#cause if hes not coming then i could bring my guitar teacher instead | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

you-did-well-moon · 3 years

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Day6 Reaction to s/o learning their instrument while they're away

Type: Fluff, angst in Dowoon dont know what happened wasnt me

Word Count: 2.865

A/n: I took some creative freedom with why they were away but that is it. Keep in mind, I have no experience with instrument except for when I played the piano in 5th grade for like two weeks. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! - Moon

TW: small cuts, fight, second hand embarrassment

Sungjin

Sungjin was absolutely and devastatingly exhausted. His own guitar case felt like it was weighing him down tremendously, and he had a huge headache. Jae and Wonpil arguing in the back of the car was not helping in any way. It has been going on since they left the airport. He rubbed at his temples tiredly pressing his head against the cool window from his place in the passenger seat next to their manager.

Still, he couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips as he thought about seeing you, probably curled up in the couch cheeks puffed from the snack you were inhaling. The pounding in his head lightened at the cute sight he would soon get to enjoy as he played with the loose threads of his old button up shirt.

True to Sungjin’s imagination, your form was sitting on the couch. Not true to his imagination, you were actually bent over something in your lap, lightly humming and bopping your head to the rhythm being produced by your still clumsy fingers. The guitar in your lap had gotten lighter as the days went by without your boyfriend, and in replacement of his touch, leaving your fingertips warm and tingling, it was small cuts you hadn’t bothered to bandage as it disrupted you when playing.

You missed Sungjin an abnormal amount. The cold spot in the bed or him making weird faces at you through the mirror in the mirror when brushing your teeth. You missed all of it. With a slight tremble in your chest you started playing the chorus to “You Were beautiful”.

You were so focused on trying to get it right you didn’t notice the door closing only to startle when you slightly looked up through your lidded eyes seeing the shadow looming over the coffee table. With a small yelp of surprise you jumped immediately looking up only to find your boyfriend staring at you with wide eyes.

His surprised expression made you shrink into yourself. You threw your head into your hands in pure embarrassment letting the guitar gently slide off your lap, hitting the floor with a soft thump. “Can you just pretend you didn’t see that I can’t believe I even tried learning all that by myself I” you cut yourself off with an un-pleased sigh shaking your head and looking at him with pleading eyes.

Your boyfriend continued in his frozen state for about five seconds before breaking out in the biggest smile rushing around the coffee table in which you panicked trying to get away from him with a squeal, but being too slow im the excitement that was usually in a much dormant state in Sungjin. The wrinkles near the corner of his eyes deepened adoringly, and his chest shook with soft laughter while he held you close.

There was a fond twinkle in his eye as Sungjin forgot any tiredness that clung to his bones and kissed the tips of your fingertips while maintaining eye contact. He kept your hands encased in his when scolding you for having such low faith in yourself and softly encouraging you. He would probably put little stitch band-aids on your fingertips and continue teaching you, sitting you on his lap and scolding you when you lose focus with a sharp poke at your ribs smiling when you giggled. This man just fell impossibly more in love with you.

“You shouldn’t say those things, look at you love, learning all alone and doing so well. I'm so proud. Would you rather have the elmo band-aids or the stitch band-aids… I don’t know about you but Elmo kinda creeps me out. Just five more minutes little love then you can go mug Young k with Dowoon. Don’t look at me like that! You finally have a teacher and you take him for granted. The audacity-”

Jae

Jae was a thin hair away from just ripping his hair out. He didn’t believe the kpop industry would take very kindly to him going bald, but he had come to a point where he didn’t really care about what people thought anymore. But thinking about you not being able to play with his hair anymore while he drifted off to sleep with his head on your chest severely upset him.

Jae had gotten stuck in another limbo, stuck in the studio and in his own head desperately trying to finish any of the unfinished songs left in his computer files. He missed you so much, he eventually called it quits, deciding to go home to you, who he hadn’t seen in days.

Just the thought about seeing you energized his previously exhausted self. He never could get sick of you. Every day, every week was a new adventure, a new chapter, all with his favorite person in the world. The night sky, although beautiful, seemed to mock him, reminding him of how late it was, meaning you were most probably asleep.

Opening the door to his apartment, he heard soft music. He briefly recognized “I Need Somebody”, and thought you were playing it from your phone. All his thoughts came to a halting stop when he saw you perched on the bed, in his shirt, playing the melody of the previously mentioned song.

You had hair falling into your eyes with your eyebrows slightly scrunched trying not to mess up and heavily focused. Jae had loudly yelled in surprise, causing you to flinch and look up shocked at the sudden surprise. When you saw it was just him, you had comically thrown your hands in the air yelling at him about how it was supposed to be a surprise.

The irritated look on your face vanished as you went up to give him a light hug with a kiss, softly smiling at him. Meanwhile Jae, was completely out of it, lovestruck eyes while he instinctively returned your affection.

“Come Jae, you look like you haven’t slept in ages, your eyes are so sunken babe”, you had softly whispered to him, rubbing the soft skin under his eyes, the way you were always soft with him when he came back from the studio. You slept in the same bed for the first time in what had been days, Jae tightly clutching on to you.

He may have not been completely there at the moment, but in the morning when he had time to process everything, he was a changed man. He wouldn’t stop laughing and giggling excitedly, eagerly wanting to hear everything you had learnt. He even poked fun at you when you made a mistake. But it was all lovingly as he also praised you non stop while looking at you with his messy hair and big smile next to you on the couch. He had so much inspiration now. To finish what had been left behind.

“Pop off queen who gave you this much talent, you couldn’t even tell me what bass was last time we talked, which was like a week ago. Might just make you play when I don’t feel like playing. Give you a wig and people won’t know the difference! Why are you booing me, I'm right?”

Young K

Young K’s foot tapping on the floor of the car was the only sound that filled the car aside from the soft sound of the car’s engine and tires. He was absolutely spent, having to have stayed in a different city for a show he was invited to that was filmed far away from his home.

Far away from you. Young K could tell his manager was starting to get irritated, but Young K was already massively annoyed and too far in his own world to really care. He missed the pine scent of his sheets, and he missed you.

It was not a good combination. When he got to his place he quietly thanked the manager, getting his bag before trying to ignore every urge telling him to run into the building and fall into his soft bed with you in his arms. When he opened the door, your keys were there, so he knew you were in the building. That thought filled him with more relief than it should have.

He did have to admit, hearing “I smile” this early in the day was odd as you usually saved the more mellow songs for later in the night. Young K told himself he had many euphoric moments in his life, but seeing you staring at a sheet of paper with so much determination and a bass guitar in your arms came pretty close to the top.

The absolute warmth that exploded in his chest was a feeling he would not forget in a long time. He could feel his lips slightly curl up in fondness as your hands shook while your eyes wavered unsurely between your hands on the strings and the video on your laptop sitting further on the edge of the bed. Your face scrunched up before you sighed and stared dejectedly at the instrument on your lap.

“Why so sad love?" His voice made you instantly sit up, pushing the instrument gently off your lap. You crawled to the edge of the bed where Young K had already gotten closer where he met you tenderly running his hand through your hair, and he curved his hand around the back of your head bringing your forehead to his abdomen.

He brushed his thumb over where your hairline met the sensitive skin of the back of your neck immensely enjoying being back at your side. Your hands were clutching the back of his shirt, and your simple touch brought a warm feeling to his chest. You both leaned back as Young K’s chest started to rumble with laughter “You should have waited for me, it would have been easier if I could teach you”, he softly said, pushing your hair back from your face causing you to lightly laugh.

“I wanted to surprise you, but I didn’t get that far anyways. Can’t become a prodigy in one day I guess”. Young K smiled again, promising to himself to help you as much as he could as he put his hand fondly on top of your head.

“You’re doing so good, just move your finger up a little, you’re plucking the c chord instead of the e chord during the chorus, don’t look at me like that i’m trying to help?! I wouldn’t put you on my level, but I think you’re doing really well. I’m hungry now, what do you want? No- What do you want? I am okay with anything just tell me-”

Wonpil

Wonpil was trying his hardest not to think about you. From the way you got excited when you got to see the moon in the cloudy sky to the way you smiled when you saw the neighbor’s cat while getting the mail.

He was happy to be on a trip with her sister, he hadn’t had much time to be with her in recent, well forever really. While you had been invited, you hadn’t been able to attend due to work. Wonpil did his best to keep his mind off you and enjoy the trip, he just hadn’t spent this long without you in a while.

Even so, he still had a fun time with his sister and her boyfriend creating many memories. He didn’t regret it, but he was extremely happy to come back to you. Opening the door to your apartment, he dropped his suitcase by the door, an excited smile tugging at his lips as he traveled through the apartment with his arms spread knowing you would embrace him as soon as you saw him. He felt so giddy, he didn’t even notice the broken keyboard sounds ringing throughout the living space.

His smile fell in a comical way, his face morphing into one of confusion instead. He recognized a broken rendition of “Mary had a little Lamb”, and tilted his head as he opened the door to your room seeing you with really big headphones on your head staring down at the keyboard with the most offended look on your face.

How dare this keyboard not give you its secrets! Wonpil couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his chest, not mocking you, but he just thought you were so cute. He lightly touched your shoulder causing you to jump, and the slight movement of your head caused the headphones to slide off your head. It didn’t matter much. You instantly dove into his arms, pressing the side of your face against his chest.

He felt warmth flood his chest as his hand encased the back of your head while he pressed his lips to the top, closing his eyes in bliss enjoying having you in his arms again. He leaned back from the brace as his eyes flashed with amusement and yours with slight embarrassment. He lightly laughed, eyes crinkling. He cradled your face in his hands, a teasing lilt to his voice, “What were you trying to do, hmm?” He could feel your face grow hot under his finger tips.

“I was just trying to surprise you. I felt bad for not being able to go with you”. He shook his head, hands playfully pinching your cheeks as you whined. “You shouldn’t act that way, I understood from the beginning. It must have been hard for you. Here, come, your lovely boyfriend will make this easier for you”.

“Y/n the keys will not bite prEsS dOWn, no, no keyboards do not have to be oiled, this is a musical instrument not a mechanical vehicle. You are so cute. What am I gonna do with you? No, you can not play the keyboard with your forehead, DO NOT put your foot on the keys. I don’t care if it’s for the vine.

Dowoon

Dowoon was beating himself up. Looking back at what happened a few hours ago made his chest tight. He couldn’t help but wince at the words both of you had thrown at each other. You had been with each other for so long, and when his lovely mother asked him when he would propose, although with good intentions, it put pressure on him.

He was still young. He had mentioned it to you in a joking manner, but there was a misunderstanding and you thought he was blowing it off as he didn’t see a future with you.

Somehow feelings were hurt, and the fight escalated. And Dowoon decided he was a coward because it was when you had started stuttering through your words and avoiding eye contact, he knew. He knew he had pushed you across a line that might not be able to be crossed again.

He panicked. He was really good at doing that wasn’t he? He left. He took a bus and went to the nearest hotel he could find. There he was sitting on the edge of the too perfectly made bed with his head in his hands.

Had he just ruined his precious relationship because he was scared of what the future could or could not hold? Why did he have to run away? Why couldn’t he just stay? Most importantly, how badly had he hurt you?

With a sigh he stood up, and he got on the bus back to your apartment. Staring at the door, the fact you were just on the other side and hurting is what pushed him to open it with the key you had given him. Opening the door, he was met with silence and darkness. Have you already gone? He walked through the apartment, hope dwindling with every step.

Then he heard a soft thump thump thump. His heart seemed to match with it, and as he walked to his studio which held his spare drum set, he thought of what he could say to make it better. Opening the door, he saw you softly hitting the drum with one stick, as if testing the waters and humming along to “When you Love Someone”. Dowoon couldn’t fight the sad smile that broke out on his face, and the absolute warmth that filled his chest.

Why did he ever even doubt your future with him? There was no person more perfect for him than you. He stood next to you, softly taking your hand in his and guiding your hand to the right beat, although a bit broken. When your sad eyes looked up into his, forgiving in nature but still frustrated beyond belief, he knew he could still fix things. You were you, and Dowoon was Dowoon. You always somehow found your way back to each other.

“No no, put your hands higher on the stick, no lower, now higher...a bit lower. No, Y/n drum sticks do not belong in my throat. What do you mean I have no room to talk, I thought we were over the fight. I would marry you in this life and the next! Why are you looking at me like that? I am not cute, I am handsome and overflowing with testosterone. Oooh are those gummies?

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ncssian · 3 years

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A Favor: Bonus Scene Two (Gwynriel)

Masterlist

a/n: this picks up right after nesta leaves gwyn’s apartment in Part 24. warning for discussions of sex, obviously.

***

As soon as the apartment door shuts after Nesta, Gwyn releases a breath and turns to Azriel with a wide gaze. “Do I really have to teach you guitar?” she says.

“Of course not.” He rolls his eyes. It was a throwaway line meant to get Nesta off his back, and even she didn’t entirely believe it. He moves toward the kitchen to get a glass of water, still shaken from Nesta storming into Gwyn’s bedroom like that. Not that she interrupted much. Gwyn still has a long way to go before she can handle anyone touching her between her legs, Azriel thinks.

He never asked Gwyn what a twenty-seven year old woman was so afraid of sex for when she first suggested her proposal to him. She looked so scared that he would question her that he couldn’t bring himself to poke even a little bit. Not that he needs to poke. He’s not a fucking idiot, and Gwyn’s thighs had been trembling in involuntary fear under his hands earlier. She’s been hurt.

For her sake, he pretends to remain ignorant and incurious, but right now his grip on the glass in his hand is so tight it might shatter. His face remains cool as he pours himself water.

“Why didn’t you tell her the truth?” Gwyn hops up onto the kitchen counter and swings her freakishly long legs. “About what you get out of our deal?”

“I don’t expect you to teach me sex for free, obviously,” Gwyn blabbered the day after they got back from the ski lodge. “You can ask for something from me, too. Even money, if that’s your thing.”

Prostitution was not Azriel’s thing, though he wouldn’t knock it. The truth was that his brain had started turning as soon as Gwyn told him about her idea, and now it couldn’t stop. Oddly enough, this opportunity was perfect.

“Tell Nesta that I’m using you as a rebound?” Azriel nearly snorts on his water. “Did you miss the part where she almost cut my dick off and choked me with it?”

Gwyn hums noncommittally. “Being a distraction from your ex is better for me than it is for you. It’s insurance that you won’t get any funny ideas.” She narrows her teal eyes at him. “If you find yourself moving on from Nesta’s hot sister, you better tell me right away. I’ll end this whole thing quickly and cleanly.”

“Why?” He thought moving on from Elain was the goal, one he was unlikely to achieve.

“You know.” She crosses her arms in an X over her chest like she’s warding him off. “You might catch—feelings for me.”

This time Azriel really does snort on his water, hard. His laughter turns into coughing when it slips down the wrong pipe, and liquid dribbles onto his shirt. Gwyn just sits there and stares at him in vague disgust.

When he’s done choking, he wipes his mouth with the hem of his tee and gasps, “Even without Elain, you wouldn’t need to worry about that. Trust me.”

Gwyn wrinkles her freckled nose in distaste. “I would be offended if I wasn’t so relieved.”

He’s still chuckling when Gwyn says cautiously, “By the way…” She chews on the inside of her cheek. “Did you really ghost Elain?”

Azriel is no longer amused.

“When you said you broke up with her, I thought you actually broke up with her,” Gwyn continues. “I didn’t know you were one of those guys.”

Shame tinged with embarrassment floods Azriel, and he doesn’t have the slightest idea why. Why does it matter what Gwyn of all people thinks of him, especially when she doesn’t have all the details?

He thought he was making things easier for Elain by leaving without a word. He thought she would let him slip out of her mind after a couple of weeks just like he slipped out of her life, and that it would be better than having to hear him dump his insecurities on her.

He knows now that he was only making things easier for himself. Knows that if he had stayed and talked things out with Elain, she would have convinced him to stay. If he had called her at all in the past two months, he would have gone running back to Velaris like a sailor answering a siren’s song.

She’s always been a siren—which is why he can’t regret doing what would have happened eventually anyway. Even without that Vanserra bastard or some other man, Elain could never have been a permanent fixture in Azriel’s life. Little details sprinkled throughout their time together confirm that for him now.

That doesn’t mean Elain deserved it, or deserves it now. Azriel knows that.

But all he can think of to say to Gwyn is, “Yeah, maybe I am one of those guys.” He puts his glass in the sink. “You still want me as your teacher?”

Gwyn shrugs, looking away. “It’s not like I’ve got any other choice.”

Azriel would disagree. He says what he’s been thinking since they got back from Cassian’s birthday trip. “Wouldn’t you rather do this with someone you love and trust?”

“God no,” Gwyn snorts, providing no further explanation.

Azriel can understand being hesitant to admit sexual inexperience to a crush, but it doesn’t stop him from judging Gwyn’s new man. If this coworker of hers is so great, wouldn’t she be able to trust him unabashedly with her insecurities? Wouldn’t he readily accept her for all that she is?

Ugh, he’s been dipping into Nesta’s reading collection too much lately. “Alright, then.” He leans against the counter opposite Gwyn. “Let’s talk about learning. You clammed up in bed back there after ignoring my suggestions and shoving my head between your legs.”

“I clammed up because of my best friend barging into my room and catching us together,” Gwyn defends.

“Your pussy was dry as bread before that,” he retorts. Ooh, now he wants toast.

Gwyn turns a furious shade of red while Azriel starts looking around for bread. He finds it sitting by the toaster. “Can you not say that?” she hisses at him.

“What?” He looks up from dropping bread into the toaster.

“You know…” She glances around cautiously as if someone might overhear. “Pussy.”

“Pussy,” he says again, just to be annoying. Gwyn’s shoulders turn inward in embarrassment, and he has to hold back a grin. Yeah, she’s definitely not ready for oral.

He finds a butter knife and some peanut butter. “I told you to start easy and you ignored me. You tried jumping into the deep end without learning how to tread water.”

Gwyn scoffs. “And what does ‘treading water’ entail again?”

Azriel shrugs, plucking up his finished toast. “Making out, heavy petting, freshman-year-of-high-school kind of stuff.”

“I’ve done that before,” she mutters indignantly. “Maybe not in my freshman year, but I’ve done it.”

He wonders how long ago that was, or if it was before she was—hurt.

“Besides,” Gwyn goes on before he can push the matter further, “I’m not budging on kissing. I want to save that for the man I actually like.”

“You don’t like me?” Azriel raises a brow, slathering peanut butter over his toast. “You definitely don’t act the same with me as you do with other men.” Or at least that’s what he assumes. Up until a short while ago, he never would’ve been able to imagine timid Gwyn having the guts to ask anyone for sex ed. That’s got to make him special, right?

But then Gwyn waves him off and says, “That’s ‘cause you’re not a real man. I knew you before puberty.”

Azriel nearly drops his toast. “Wow, the nerve of this woman,” he mutters with wide eyes. If she keeps this up, he’s going to start regretting ever going to the same school as her. “That’s not what you said when you were going on about how attracted you are to me.”

“I said you were attractive, not that I was attracted.” Gwyn’s blush is more from irritation than shyness now. “You do the job, but you’re no Max.” She giggles at saying his name. Actually giggles. “I’ll only kiss Max.”

“What kind of stupid ass name is Max?” Azriel grumbles through a mouthful of peanut butter.

“It’s short for Maximillian.”

He chokes. “Jesus, that’s even worse.” He’s doing all this work for some guy named Maximillian. Maybe he should just go home and let Nesta give him the beating he deserves.

Except thinking about Nesta only reminds Azriel of what a coward he is, because he fears facing her again almost as much as he fears facing Elain. “By the way, could I…” he starts hesitantly.

Gwyn gives him a judgmental sneer. “You don’t want to go back to the cabin, do you?”

He shakes his head.

“You can’t stay here,” she responds, crushing his hopes. “I have plans tonight, but even if I didn’t, I wouldn’t let you be such a wimp.” She hops off the counter and comes over to him, surprising him by grabbing both of his shoulders. “Azriel,” she says somberly.

He swallows his toast roughly.

“You have to grow some balls,” she continues. “Not just for your sake, but for the sake of every poor woman in your life. Also, all this drama is personally a turn-off for me, which is detrimental to my sex education.” She wrinkles her nose. “Do better and all that, you know?”

Damn, okay.

Instead of standing there like an idiot, Azriel manages to say, “Fine, I’ll go.” He shoves the rest of his toast into his mouth and dusts off his hands, heading for the living room.

“Wait, you don’t have to leave right now—” Gwyn follows after him. Azriel is already on the couch, pulling a stray notepad and pen on the coffee table closer to himself.

He clicks the pen. “When’s that library guy planning to take you out?” he asks, starting to write.

Gwyn hovers near him, watching the notepad over his shoulder in confusion. “Um, this Saturday. Just a casual coffee shop thing.”

“Then I’ll see you on Friday.” He scribbles down some bullet points and labels the page LESSON PLAN. “Until then, think about a way to enjoy foreplay without kissing. Here are some suggestions so you can practice.” He tears the lined paper out of the notepad and hands it to Gwyn.

Her eyes skim over the page, brows rising with each point she reads. “Is all this really necessary?”

Azriel remembers how he barely brushed his lips against Gwyn’s core before having to pull away and kiss her quivering thigh instead. He can’t have sex with an unaroused woman, and he definitely can’t do it with a terrified woman. “Foreplay is absolutely necessary,” he says, getting up from the couch and stretching to his full height. Where Elain used to only reach his chest, Gwyn’s head almost reaches his nose. It amuses him for some reason.

“Do you like movies?” he adds. “I’ll take you to the movies on Friday.” Preferably something boring and played out, so the theater will be empty and she won’t be paying attention.

Gwyn’s eyes widen. “Is going on dates also part of foreplay?”

“It can be,” Azriel shrugs. It will be when he does it. He drops a hand onto Gwyn’s head and ruffles her hair. “I’d love to stay and help you study, but I have to go and grow some balls.” He mock-frowns at her as he heads for his shoes and keys. “See you later, Gwyneth.”

***

a/n: wait why do i wanna write the movie theater scene now… pls help me im just trying to finish this damn fic im getting too old for this

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#ncssianwrites #gwynriel #a favor #bonus scene

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missmitchieg · 3 years

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I.... Wanna talk about Bobby and his... Ehh, "friendship" with the boys, Bobby's feelings about his place in the band, and their feelings about him postmortem.

So in Whatever Happens, Luke was super dismissive of and straight up violent with Bobby for a while there and Alex and Reggie both took Luke's side in the Emily argument and were literally just casually betting on whether Luke was about to clobber Bobby, Reggie straight up said Bobby's not that good at guitar, Luke only sat next to him in the van not because he wanted to, but because with Reggie being Reggie, he had no other choice and he was ignoring Bobby for his journal, and with Bobby, who is probably the only one that can both drive and owns a vehicle, Sunset Curve looks like a "real" band. Bobby said he felt like he wasn't really a part of the band or their friendship and knew he wasn't as good as Luke at guitar.

In We Got The Music, Julie hates him for stealing Luke's songs and questions if they were really friends, Luke says Bobby sucks at rhyming and karma's going to get him, the guys made a list of haunting ideas, they all agree Bobby's unforgivable, and they drew devil horns and a tail on him.

In The Edge Of Great, Luke describes Bobby-Trevor as "greasy-haired" when they go to the mansion. He's doing the absolute most to mess with Bobby, traumatizing him in the process. Then when Julie shows up, Luke admits he's already more concerned with her and her happiness and trust in them than he is with anything else. But he still wants more revenge, so he asks Alex about Willie, who says he'll talk to him. At the club, Luke says they'll do whatever it takes to get back at him. After Julie quits, all Luke cares about is apologizing to Julie and getting her back in the band. Reggie just wants to go back to the club to eat pizza. When Julie does come back, they all care more about Julie and not messing up again than anything.

In Wake Up, none of them were like "aww, you don't have to get a hot dog. You can just hang with us." and they all just left without a second thought to Bobby and he was like "cool, I'mma hang out with the pretty girl". After they die, Julie never asked about the fourth member of the band and the guys never brought him up, either.

In Bright, (ooooohhh Bright) Alex put Bobby in an entirely separate category to both 'friends' and 'family' because he was neither a friend nor family to them. Now, an argument could be made for that meaning he was putting Bobby in a more important category, but an argument could also be made for Alex putting him in the least important category that was just an afterthought to friends and family. Also, Reggie entirely forgot that Bobby existed until Alex brought him up. Luke says with his whole chest "I'll tell you what we had. It's what we've had since the day we came together. Boys, we have us. We're the only family we're ever gonna need.", like, as if they're not literally missing 1/4th of their band. As if their not missing their other best friend. And then they just had a song about this band is back and were singing and dancing ll around the beach, and then they performed with Julie for the first time, with a Sunset Curve song they had planned to perform at The Orpheum together.

In IGTM, we find out that apparently, none of the boys have ever talked about Bobby to Julie to find out that he became Trevor Wilson and took a lot of Luke's music for himself and the gang only found out after... What, a week of knowing each other? Two weeks, at the most? So first, we hear Alex refer to Bobby as "our rhythm guitarist". Not, like, "our rhythm guitarist, our best friend", or like, "our little brother", just "our rhythm guitarist". Nothing more. Then Reggie says Bobby looks "old", Alex says he looks like "a substitute teacher", Luke instantly hates him for not mentioning them, and Reggie's pissed that Bobby didn't help their families with money and they go to revenge-haunt him. Reggie huffs and puffs and harrumphs about Bobby being the type that wears sunglasses indoors and says he can't stand him. Luke says it's "time for his past to haunt him." They moon him.

In The Other Side Of Hollywood, Alex introduces the guys to Willie who takes them to meet Caleb so they can get even more revenge on him. Instead of doing that, though, Caleb redirects their attention to food and music, doing Bobby a massive favor. Like, who knows what more those boys would've done in a wrath fueled second haunting of their most loathed ex guitarist?

In Finally Free, Reggie was pissed as all Hell at Bobby while Luke just completely stopped giving a shit about a large part of this fandom's favorite rhythm guitarist with a pretty voice, solely because Luke's insistence on getting revenge on Bobby made them miss a gig and it made Julie frown so he was like "Well, I never wanna be the reason for that happening ever again, so." and chose to remind Reggie, who calls Bobby a "jerk", to take Julie's words to heart and focus on the music they were making with her.

Then after that, the guys just kinda... Never bring up Bobby again? He's just kinda irrelevant to them and to the plot until the finale.

In The Edge Of Great, Luke's concerned with Nick's crush on Julie, finalizing the setlist for the garage party, cheering Alex up, and Julie. Alex is concerned that Willie suddenly changed his mind about him, and then sad that Willie broke up with him. Reggie helps Carlos prove a point to tia Victoria and then helps Luke cheer up Alex, then performs at the party.

In Unsaid Emily, Alex and Willie sort of make up, Reggie's just sort of bonding with Ray and he and Alex say they're gonna miss the Molinas, and Julie & Luke visit his parents to make things semi-ok again.

In Stand Tall, the guys commit some crimes to get the band to perform at The Orpheum and cross over. Reggie's mourning the Molinas and wondering if he'll still be with Alex and Luke in Heaven. Julie's morning her eventual inevitable loss of the guys. Then they perform and have the time of their life/afterlives and Julie removes Caleb's brand.

No one cares about Bobby Trevor anymore except for Bobby stans and, in a way, Bobby antis. 'Cause the stans are all like "wtf #JusticeForBobby!" and the antis are like "loooool the guys like Julie more than they ever liked Bobby. Sucks for him."

So now, Bobby is so far removed from the guys and so far from Julie that no one's thinking about him anymore. At all. They're only thinking about themselves and each other, like Julie and Caleb told them to. Even Carrie's more preoccupied with herself and Julie than her father. The only one thinking about Bobby is himself. Even then, he's also losing his shit because "The boys are back. Why are they back. They're supposed to be dead. What's going on. What is my life. Is this karma for taking Luke's music. I'm going to see my therapist, but first I need to lie down."

Every piece of canon content just constantly reiterates that Bobby was the guys' friend but the guys were not Bobby's friends.

#julie and the phantoms #bobby shaw #julie molina #luke patterson #reggie molina #alex molina #i'm about to ruin every Bobby stans mood

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morceid · 4 years

Text

Peppermint Plucks

SPENCER REID X MALE READER

read on ao3

Summary: When Spencer Reid starts to feel more lonely than usual, Penelope suggests he picks up guitar. Unexpectedly, he finds himself with a crush on his teacher.

Category: fluff

Warnings: implied sexual content

Word Count:1720

A/N: requested by @riley-killjoy ! thanks for the request :)

Garcia noticed first. Spencer had been more absent minded at work recently. He barely finished half of his case files before lunch anymore. Giving his troubling past, it was cause for worry. So she was going to do something about it. After most everyone left the office for lunch she walked into the bullpen and sat on his desk.

“Hey, boy genius, what’s got you slacking recently?”

“What are you, Hotch?” He retorted.

“Come on, I’m being serious! It’s lunch and you’ve only finished a third of your paperwork. What’s going on in there?” She ruffled his curls and pushed them out of his eyes.

“I don’t really know. I’ve just been feeling kind of lonely recently.” Spencer shrugged.

“What are you talking about? Emily brings you coffee once a week, Derek gets you food from that Thai place you love when you're working late, and we invite you out for drinks every Friday. You’ve got people that care about you, babes.” Penelope rubbed his knee as she spoke.

“I know. I guess I just want something more? I don’t know.”

“What do you mean?”

“I wish there was someone with me all the time. Someone to wake up to. Someone to go to sleep with. Just.. something.” Spencer fidgeted with the pen in his hands and looked at his feet.

“Aw, Spencer, you don’t need someone.”

“But I want someone.” He looked Penelope in the eyes almost urgently.

“Hey, since you spend so much time alone, why don’t you use your time to learn something?”

“Not sure how that would help seeing as I think I’ve learned just about everything, but go on.”

“You remember my ex Sam?” Spencer nodded. “Well, we got together because I started taking uke lessons after I got dumped. He was my uke teacher. He doesn’t teach anymore, but when I took lessons from him I used all of the time I could’ve for crying and I used it to play. Why don’t you give it a try?”

“Fine. I’m not playing ukulele though. Totally not my style.”

“Totally not your style. Got it. Your first lesson on whatever string instrument you please is on Friday.” She got up from the desk and walked towards the elevators.

“Hey, Pen?”

“Yes, sugar cakes?”

“What’s the name of your current teacher?”

“Y/N!” She called as the doors of the elevator closed.

“Y/N..” Spencer repeated to himself.

On Friday Spencer showed up to Penelope’s apartment at 5:30, 30 minutes before Y/N would get there. As Penelope tuned her ukulele Spencer rambled about the history of string instruments and their improvement through the years. He jumped when there was a knock at the door.

Penelope opened the door and Spencer thought he was dreaming. Y/N seemed to be glowing before him. His smile was soft and kind.

“Penelope! Good to see you again. I see you have a friend today.” Y/N said as he hugged Garcia.

“Yes! Y/N, this is Spencer. Spencer, this is Y/N.”

Y/N reached his hand out.

“Oh, he doesn’t-”

“Hi! It’s good to meet you.” Spencer took Y/N’s hand in both of his and shook gently, surprising Penelope.

“You too. Penny told me you’re looking for something other than a uke, so I got some other instruments in my car, but here’s a guitar for now. Pen, why don’t you start showing him some chords as I get the other instruments?” He slipped the guitar case off of his back and gave it to Penelope.

They sat on the couch together and Penelope showed Spencer the chords and how to play them.

“So, what do you think?” Penelope asked.

“About what?” Spencer wondered if Penelope could sense his nervousness that easily. He didn’t normally believe in true love at first sight, but holy hell did Y/N make him. When he shook his hand warmth spread through Spencer’s body and he swore that you could see his eyes turn to hearts. God, he hoped it wasn’t just him being lonely that caused him to think like this.

“About the guitar, silly. What else would I be asking?” Penelope chuckled.

“Yeah, of course, uh, the chords are really easy. Did playing come to you this fast too?” Spencer quickly changed between hand positions and mouthed the letter of each note.

“Definitely not! It took weeks to teach Penelope just two chords.” Y/N laughed as he brought in a violin and cello, each held in cases on his shoulders. The sound of his voice caught Spencer’s attention. He loved how he articulated his words. “Why don’t you try strumming on that?” He threw Spencer a pick.

Spencer gave an experimental flick on the first string before going across all of them. The sound came out strong. Penelope looked shocked as a perfect E flat tone rang through her apartment.

“Whoa! You’re really good. You sure you’ve never played a guitar?” Y/N asked.

“Well, my roommate in college played pretty often but I never learned from him. Always stayed up late because of his playing though.” Spencer said.

“Makes sense.” Y/N sat on the couch next to Spencer. “He ever let you try?”

“Nope. I guess I just memorized what chords he played for fun.” Spencer nervously smiled.

“So, you gonna go with the guitar?” Penelope asked.

“Yeah. It’s familiar. Easy to learn.” Spencer strummed again.

“Okay, well I’ll go practice in my room so I’m not disturbing you.” She got up and ran to her bedroom.

Y/N went over the correct way to strum in order to produce the correct sounds and Spencer got a hold of it fairly quickly. Over the next few weeks Spencer would go to Penelope’s apartment at 5:30 every Friday. Soon enough he began to learn his own song. Lessons would be an hour with Spencer and then an hour with Penelope.

One Friday Y/N stood behind Spencer and guided his hands to the strings. Spencer lightly gasped and tried to seem at ease as Y/N’s fingers touched his own. He smelled like peppermint and sweet candies to him.

“I think we’re alone now.” He whispered.

“What?” Spencer turned his head to look at Y/N in confusion.

“Uh, the name of the song. It’s uh- It’s by Tiffany Darwish.” He took his hands off of Spencer’s and leaned down to shuffle through his sheet music.

“Oh. Okay.”

The next Friday Y/N suggested they go on a little field trip to a guitar shop. It was time that Spencer got his own guitar instead of always using Y/N’s. They found one that fit comfortable in his arms and with the permission of the owner had his lesson in the store. Seeing as they all went in the same car, Y/N would drop off Spencer and then he would go to Penelope’s and they would have a lesson.

Y/N walked into Spencer’s apartment with him. Penelope stayed behind in the car.

“So, this is your apartment? Why haven’t we had a lesson here?” He asked.

“Guess I just never thought to ask.” Spencer laughed.

Y/N moved behind Spencer and brought his hand onto his hip. Spencer turned around swiftly. Now Y/N was holding the small of his back.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

“Yes.” Spencer breathed out.

“I’ve liked you for a while now, Spencer,” he took the pale man's face in his hands. “Can I kiss you?”

Spencer nodded and pressed his entire body up to Y/N’s. The kiss started slow and innocent, but Spencer loved the taste of Y/N’s peppermint chapstick and they slipped their tongues in eachothers mouths. The intrusion made them moan and Y/N pushed them against a wall.

“What will we tell Penelope?” Spencer said as Y/N moved his kisses to his chin.

“Why do we have to tell her anything?” He sucked hard onto Spencer’s neck, where any marks would be hidden just under the collar of a work shirt.

“Oh…”

Monday was the worst day for the weather to be hot. Y/N’s hickeys still hadn’t faded from Spencer’s neck and if he changed into a regular t-shirt from his go bag they would definitely be visible. Against his better judgement, Spencer changed in the bathroom. He’d rather die of embarrassment than heat.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. What you got goin over there, pretty boy?” Derek laughed as Spencer sat back down in his seat.

“Leave me alone, Morgan.” He scoffed.

“Nuh-uh. No way. If you got a girl I wanna be the first to know.”

“Not a girl.” Spencer mumbled.

“What was that?”

“He’s not a girl.” Spencer said clearly.

“Hey gu- Whoa! Spencer what is that?” Emily walked in with her coffee.

“Pretty boy has a boyfriend.” Derek stated.

“What?! Why didn’t you tell me? Aw man now I feel bad about setting you up on that date last week.”

“THAT was a DATE?” Spencer nearly screamed.

“Yep. And she’s still wondering why you haven’t called her back. So, what’s his name?” Emily laughed.

“I can’t say it. Also, he’s not a boyfriend. At least not yet.”

“Why not? Too embarrassed?” Now JJ had joined in the conversation.

“No! It’s just-”

“What is it, Spence?”

“He’s Garcia’s ukulele teacher..” He sighed.

“Wow, pretty boy. Wow.”

The next lesson progressed the same as it had two lessons before. Penelope was practicing in her room.They sat on the couch, Y/N’s hands guided Spencer’s on the guitar, and they pressed their bodies together. He showed how Spencer’s hand should pluck at the strings and once he got the hang of it they began singing the lyrics to “I Think We're Alone Now” together.

“I think we’re alone now..”

“There doesn’t seem to be,” Spencer spoke the next lines into Y/N’s lips, “anyone around.”

They began kissing, slow and deep. They pressed together and as Spencer turned more towards Y/N he dropped the guitar on the ground. The sound alerted Penelope and she rushed to the living room only to find Spencer pushing Y/N into a lying position on her couch with his lips. The second they heard her gasp they pulled away from each other.

“Sorry, Pen. He’s just too damn cute.” Y/N laughed.

#spencer reid #reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x male reader #gay spencer reid #penelope garcia #derek morgan #y/n #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #jennifer jareau #fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fluff #fluff #fluff fanfic #pluto writes

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90sbokuto · 3 years

Text

— “ haikyuu characters as stereotypical u.s. students ”

including: kuroo, hinata, kenma, tanaka, and nishinoya

genre: crack, humor, fluff(fish?)

tags: crack, just jokes, u.s. high school stereotypes

warnings: language

a/n: lmfaooo I've been seeing a lot of people doing this on tik tok and thought it was HILARIOUS 😭 imma give it a shot but be warned some commentary may only apply to california 💀💀

— kuroo tetsuro

- okay so kuroo gives me very much ap student who gets along with all the teachers, y’know?? he probably has perfect attendance too 👁

- and not in a cocky “teachers pet” way, but just cause he does his work, sometimes comes to teacher’s office hours, asks how their day went 🧍🏾‍♀️

- on the downlow though, he HATES having to do some of the work and will definitely slide the answers to you if you had a hard night

- he IS a pretty boy however, and I could DEFINITELY see him getting sent tons of those little gift baggies for valentines from “secret admirers”

- he’s just chill with everyone and comes off as the secretly soft nerd that would have a long term girlfriend similar to him

- his bio probably looks like this: 17. student-athlete. NHS ‘12 🎓;; can’t really see him using social media except to send kenma memes and post occassionally

- general conclusion: 4.5/5; kuroo probably would be intimidating if you just transferred but after being in a class or two with him, it'd probably be chill asf, y’all would wave at each other in the hallway and probably have an inside joke or two going on..

— shoyo hinata

- WHEW,, HINATA

- he’s giving me very much LINK CREW VIBES DJFNSDFKJ-

- sidenote: if you don't know what link crew is, it’s like a peer mentor group where the seniors and juniors mentor incoming freshmen and have them do fun lil activities

- all of the teachers just find him so sweet, since he’s just like the extroverted golden boy of the grade

- dear lord his locker... it’d look absolutely fucking atrocious 😭 yachi probably would help him clean it out before winter break,,,

- he’s literally the perfect target to get adopted by a bunch of seniors,, gets rides home from them, he’s invited to the parties and they’d for SURE bring him snacks when he has game days

- i simply refuse to believe he’d have a bio,, and if he HAD to though, it’d probably look like this: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) next tiny giant!! 💯

- general conclusion: 4/5; having him as a linkie or simply as a friend would always be exciting and it’d always feel good to have someone by your side! his morning routine would probably consist of trying to race some of the seniors to the parking lot on his bike 👁👄👁

— kenma kozume

- ngl, he’d be a link crew leader,,

- and before you ask, kuroo forced him to do SOMETHING when volleyball season isn’t going on that isn't gaming club

- he has that specific teacher that he likes, probably like an elective teacher or that ONE history teacher that everyone migrates towards

- he’d have a group of friends that play genshin impact with him at lunch,, and I could see some of the freshmen wondering how he got his hair like that

- NOW I KNOW KUROO GETS LOVE LETTER BUT SO DOES KENMA, STOP SLEEPING ON MY BOY! 😤

- his normally come from some of the underclassmen, a small handful being some of the freshmen, but he doesn’t know how to respond and neither does he really believe them sometimes?? it just doesn't phase him,,

- it literally takes this little freshman to come up to him and give him a little baggie of candies for him to be shook to the core 🥺

- he wouldn’t have a bio,, it would probably just be a link to his discord group

- general conclusion: 4/5; he’d be cool to be around and be paired up with in groups cause you’d get the work done and you’d probably be invited to play games if he likes being around you! it is hard to get to know him however but he’d smile at you in the hallways!

— tanaka ryunosuke

- PLEASE HE’S DEF ONE OF THE LOUD BASKETBALL/SOCCER BOYS 😭

- all of the teachers like him except the sticklers and he’s JUST like kuroo but in a more boisterous way, he’s for sure the kid that gets sent to other teacher’s classrooms to give something to them and he just goes around the WHOLE school on the way 😗

- he’s the one that takes all of the freshmen in and terrorizes them, him and noya do it every year whenever a freshmen either the basketball/volleyball/soccer team

- he’s deffo a “where my hug at?” type guy and everyone’s just kinda cool with him!

- he can give bokuto (you’ll see in pt.2) and noya a run for his money when it comes to prom king, they’re like the universal upperclassmen that everyone know and love 😀

- his bio FOR SURE looks like this: “310📍ALL EYEZ ON ME 💯” he posts those generic “game day 🥶” posts, sends memes, has a million group chats and 500 unread messages

- he never gets his little valentine’s day gifts, girls just always come up to tell him straight to his face and ask if he wants to do something that weekend; he always says no, and asks kiyoko though 🥺

- general conclusion: this may be a bit biased cause it’s either hit or miss for a lot of people with those type of friends but a personal 4.5/5, simply because he would LEAVE you on read but it’d never be on purpose! he’s a blast to be around, especially as teachers get more leinent when you’re a senior;; it’d be sad to see him graduate and leave :(

— nishinoya yu

- he’s the aesthetic edgy rock kid,, plays drums, the guitar, etc and the choir/music club wants him to play but he refuses 🏃🏽‍♀️💨

- him and tanaka became friends from volleyball but originally knew each other cause tanaka got stuck in the band for a period and the music teacher was trying to convince noya to play 👁

- yes .. they fool around the WHOLE damn time LMSDNJFSADFB-JUST IMAGINE NOYA PLAYING THE PH INTRO DURING CLASS 😭😭😭

- gets mistaken for a freshman a lot... similar to tanaka and kuroo, all of the teachers seem to like him!

- similar to kenma and kuroo, he gets sent tons of love letters but he can never trace them back to the original sender and it’s hilarious cause it always ends up with him having a date for the valentines day dance either way

- his bio most likely looks like: “rolling thunder ++ 🖤🎸🏐” he’d kinda use social media on whatever basis, like he’ll occasionally post on game days and then sometimes he’s only on tik tok;; it’s really just a tossup

- solid candidate for getting nominated as prom king! everyone knows him and just enjoys the vibe

- general conclusion: 5/5; would’ve made classes worth it just to hang around him! he’d see someone sad in the hallway and attempt to cheer them up instead of just leaving them there and would love to go to parties! he’d for sure be comforting!

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ps-i-dont-even-know · 3 years

Text

Devil may cry headcanons

You know I wasn't expecting you put a lot of Kyrie stuff in this one but I couldn't help it. Also there's dadgil in here because I really love it, sorry for no young Dante and Vergil I'm running out of ideas since I can't remember most of my childhood. Also for those who are interested, I’m thinking of starting taking request/ask for headcanons and writing, possibly drawing but their not the best, but I need to work stuff out at the moment.

Sometimes when Vergil has a mission near Nero and Kyrie, he stops by their house

The first time he did this was shocking to Nero, not only was Vergil there, but V and Urizen was there too, and it was going to be extremely ridiculous to explain this to Kyrie

And he knew how this was go and how she is protective over Nero since losing her brother and nearly losing Nero.

"Nero, who's at the... door", " Oh, um Kyrie I would like to introduce you to my dad, er … Dads?", "Your, Dads?", "Look its complicated and a long story, anyway this is my main Dad, Vergil, he's kind of nice but doesn't really talk that much. This is my dad's human half, V, he's nice, likes poems and has animals, strange one that is. And lastly is my dads demon half, um I'm not sure if he's nice or not since he raised the demon tree", "Oh that's nice, by the way which one was the one that hurt you", "Wait, Kyrie, No!"

Nero has to hold Kyrie back from trying to attack Vergil, mostly for her safety. Of course she doesn't forgive Vergil at first, because of what he has done and while she gives off a nice demeanor, her glares and scowls are anything buy warm and welcoming. Which Vergil approves of Kyrie dating Nero, having someone who will fight for you instead of turning tail when something bad happens

After a while Kyrie finally forgives Vergil, because she shouldn't hold grudges that are already in the past, and to move on. But she does tell him that if he were to do something like this again she would not hesitate to hurt him, and Vergil knowing that it would be impossible for her to hurt him agrees. And the tension is finally gone and she is more welcoming to him. Which is great for Nero's case since he felt like he was being smothered in between all their glaring and the tension.

Kyrie also makes apple pie when Vergil visits, since apples are one of his favorite fruits and because the one time he visit she made some for the orphans and she asked if he would like a slice and at first he said no, but soon gave in and had a slice, well maybe two or three but he wont admit to it.

He will also go grocery shopping with her when he has free time and Nero is busy, only to help find ingredients for new food Kyrie wants to try, and to get to know each other better.

On holidays when Vergil and Nero will help Kyrie cook some of the food. Sometimes Dante will try to sneak some sweets only for his hand to be hit by a spatula as Kyrie tells him, he needs to wait or he'll spoil his dinner. In which Dante's pouting, Nero and Nico are giggling, and Vergil is smirking.

Nero has Kyrie fix his jackets when he comes back from missions sometimes, normally he will tell her he doesn't want to put work on her, but she wants to do something nice for him. She also teachers Nero how to sew and stitch so when there are days she can't fix he can do it himself, which took a while but he got it down and not only does he fox his jacket but also helps make clothing for some of the kids, sure his stitching or sewing not the best but they love it nonetheless. Kyrie has also has sewn cat like ears on one of Nero jackets without him knowing until Dante was laughing at him, he chewed him out but still kept the ears on his hoodie because he likes it.

Kyrie got Nero into cooking and remodeling house shows, sometimes he’ll turn it on just to see how the house changed and kind of debated on doing it with their house. What surprised him was the time he came into the living room where the tv was and saw Kyrie watching crime investigator shows, saying she finds its interesting about how they solve the problems, which Nero also got into, along with most of the kids.

The kids will dog pile both Dante and Vergil, Dante loves it, play fighting with the kids and stuff. Vergil on the other hand he doesn’t expect it and isn’t used to the contact, so he gets stiff and weirded out.

Dadgil

He got a school suspension, because well doing his first judgement cut on an apple sitting on a desk while cutting the apple but also the desk was something he wasn't supposed to do, and also because there not supposed to bring weapons to school

Nero had brought the Yamato, Cerberus, Nevan, and Agni & Rudra to his school show and tell, because he want to knock the socks off the kids who brought in pets, toys, or food from a different country

Vergil was frustrated that he had gotten a call from the school that his son brought weapons to school and was being suspended because of it and was mad that Dante let the Nero bring the weapons to school in the first place because it was Dante’s day to take the kid to school and he was busy

He was proud that Nero had done a judgment cut for the first time even if it was tiny and told him not to do this again.

Nero technically has two dads. Vergil and V, he loves when V visits him because of his strange pets, and the way he acts, he's mysterious but kind and loves his poems

Nero will not sleep unless V or Vergil reads him something be it a poem or story, and will try to stay up when Vergil is out on a mission. Being read to helps Nero sleep

On that subject of sleeping, Nero has frequent nightmares. It might be something he has gotten from Vergil, but there will be times where Nero leaves his bed and walks to his dad's room asking if he can sleep in bed with him, and half awake Vergil will agree. Sometimes Vergil will softly sing to Nero because after his nightmares it takes him a while to get back to sleep, and god forbid if Dante heard him singing he knows that he will not let him live this down.

Nero wanted to learn an instrument because his dad knows how to play a violin, and his uncle knows how to play both the drums and guitar. Though the problem was he didn't know which one to go with, there was many to choose from, he kind of stuck with a trombone since it slides a lot and the style is kind of it is great, also he can get away with spitting on Dante.

Nero has only two fears, spirits/ghost and frogs. Its mostly Dante's fault for letting Nero watch paranormal horror movies at night. And Nero doesn't know why he is afraid of frogs, maybe its the way they look or something he doesn't know nor care.

When he was at the park with Nico and Kyrie, did his fear of frogs really show. They were over by the pond and Nico comes over to Nero with the frog in her hand, only for him to scream and start running, while Nico chase after him giggling. Kyrie was also giggling watching Nero run from Nico was too funny.

Nero also begged his dad and uncle for a pet, he didn't care what it was as long as its not a frog. Dante was close to getting Nero a hellhound or Cerberus, but Vergil literally had to stab smack some sense in his brother. They decided on ferret, they didn't want a cat or bird because V has one and they weren't sure if its territorial or not. Hamster and Guinea pigs are tiny and live I cates not much fun there same with Lizards. Dogs are a hassle and no one wants to clean up after it, so a Ferret is what they decided on.

Nero absolutely loves it and its a noddle he can wrap it around his neck and wiggle the creature. He decided on naming it Furret cause it looked like the Pokémon and he couldn't think of anything else

Every year for fathers day Nero will try and make Vergil something, he's make weird cup looking thing that you cant drink out of it because of holes, macaroni art, drawings, cards filled with glitter galore, paper hats, the list goes on and on. But he tried making those flower thing Dante makes, he asked him how he did it and Dante responds it comes to him naturally which doesn't help at all. So he tries only for nothing to appear to his disappointment, he tries and tries until he gets the tiniest and wimpy looking thing. But happily gives it to his dad who really appreciates it.

Vergil's refrigerator is covered with child like drawings given to him from Nero, he loves them and encourages Nero to do more and that he will be the greatest artist.

When Nero first met Patty was the same day Dante was given the mission to babysit her. She was kind of bratty and annoying at first and he didn't like that she would take all of Dante's attention. They argued a lot and Dante would yell at them to stop because it was giving him a headache and they should try to get along. After having to take Patty to retrieve her family money he did start to get along with her and they started to both annoy Dante together.

Nero absolutely loves dinosaurs and has loads of toys of them, and when he was going to the Zoo with Vergil he told him he was excited to see Dinosaurs there. Only for Vergil to tell them that there aren't any dinosaurs at the zoo. (This happened to a friend of mine).

Trish and Lady likes to take Nero out shopping, normally he doesn’t mind going with them, as long as he gets something out of it. Poor Dante and his debt when he finds out how much stuff they bough for Nero

Dante watching Nero while Vergil out can lead to many, many, different ways, and Vergil dreads all of them. Dante could feed Nero only sweets and junk food instead normal healthy food, Dante could probably lose Nero somewhere be it the park or his own damn shop, Dante could probably get Nero in danger because of the demons that show up to his shop and destroys it.

Nero does get into a lot of fights at school, half of them are kids making fun of him others are he’s a hard head and doesn’t let go of grudges. The school is very frustrated in how Nero always gets into these fights, but are nervous of his dad, because of his stubbornness and how he knows that half the time its not Nero’s fault. Like one time a teacher and Nero argued about how Demons do exist and how his dad, uncle, and two aunts go out and defeat. It resulted Nero getting embarrassed in front of the class and being sent to the office and a very angry Vergil that nearly killed the teacher.

#devil may cry vergil #vergil devil may cry #devil may cry #devil may cry headcanon #dante sparda #dmc dante #devil may cry dante #dante son of sparda #vergil dmc #vergil sparda #vergil #nero sparda #nero imagine #nero devil may cry #dmc nero #nero #dadgil

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ajbwasntwriting · 4 years

Text

Daughter!Reader X Negan, Reader x Daryl: Chapter 1. Darling Princess

After the sneak peak tested well I decided to post the first chapter. I have many more already written and in the making but I’ll only post them if this gets a good reaction so please if you enjoy this please heart it, reblog it, and/or reply to it. Interaction inspires.

Sucking on another cigarette the stale tobacco burned your throat in a way you would’ve been disgusted by years ago. You looked out your window down at the gate, walkers pulling at it to try and get in. It had been a couple of years since Negan took power and more than long enough for you to feel trapped. You held the smoke in your lungs, a small part of your brain wishing it would ignite inside you and let you combust, before letting it out slow and smooth. Luxuries like this were meant to last. Another luxury was the leather loveseat you were sitting on, and the black and blue mosaic coffee table your feet and ashtray were on, and the acoustic gibson on your lap.

You placed the smoke between your lips to free your hand so you could strum the strings. You were playing an old rock balled your old man had taught you what felt like a life-time ago. He didn’t teach you to play guitar but when you came back from scouts playing campfire songs he insisted on teaching you some real music. You thought back on how many of his guitar strings you broke before that Christmas he bought you your own Washburn. The strings seemed to break less when the instrument was more your size. Those memories felt so distant now. As if they belonged to another person or were part of a movie you watched. The lyrics of the tune you were playing were on the cusp of coming back to you when your door opened violently somewhere behind you.

“My dearest daughter” Negan spoke as he entered your private room. You likened his new way of talking to that of a TV presenter. Always having to keep people on their toes. You used to think it funny when you were a kid but it wasn’t part of his personality then. “What are you doing here? Dinner was half an hour ago.”

“I’m not hungry” you shot back not even turning to face him, which would have been easy since the chair sat with its side to the window, but the walkers chewing on the fence were far more interesting.

“Y/N, don’t lie to me. You said the same at breakfast.” He sauntered over. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Lucille wasn’t with him.

“Food I didn’t earn doesn’t sate my appetite” you shot back, leaning forward to put out your smoke in the ashtray. That must have stirred something within him because the next thing you know you were grabbed by your arm and dragged out of your room, the guitar hitting the ground with a sorry sound. You let him drag you without protest, knowing better.

You were pulled into a plush dining room, immaculately furnished with white cushioned chair and a long oak table, set with silver cutlery. There were five sets in total for you, your father, and three of his ‘wives’. You figured this was some sort of ‘happy family’ play he’d act out but you didn’t know who the viewer was. You? The wives? The men? Or maybe knowing you didn’t want to be here was entertainment enough.

You were shoved into a chair next to the head of the table across from Frankie. She looked comfortable while nursing her drink but you reckoned that wasn’t her first. In front of her sat a bottle of vodka, distilled on-site by worker number 12. Fat Joey was filling the bowls with soup when your father shoved your chair in. He plopped himself into the chair next to you at the head of the table.

“Now isn’t this nice. A big happy family dinner before your old man takes off tomorrow.” You didn’t dignify him with a reply, instead motioning to the bottle of vodka in front of you.

“May I have some, Frankie?” she looked at the bottle then smiled at you

“Go ahead, Princess”. You picked up the bottle and filled your glass half-way to spite her for that nickname.

“Thank you” you tried to be civil, as badly as you wanted to just walk off with the bottle, you sipped your glass instead.

You silently started the soup. The veggies were cut into large pieces. Perfect, chewing gave you a reason not to talk to the dickhead to your left. Your eyes were too buried in your soup to see the other two wives staring at you and your father who was boring holes into your head with his eyes.

“How was your day, Y/N?” Tanya perked up

“Same as yours” you replied with a mouth full of carrot and potato

Silence

“Where are you going tomorrow Negan?” Nicolle added.

“Ladies.” Your father spoke out, his tone showing his distinct lack of patience. “I’m not an idiot. I can tell that our darling daughter doesn’t want to share our company.”

“I made that obvious in my room.” Your spoon fell gracelessly into your bowl. “Why am I here?!”

He reached over and rubbed your cheek affectionately. “Because I love you. And!” he punctuated the final word by raising a finger in front of your face, a silent cue to wait. He stood up from his chair and took off out of the room and down the hall. You took this moment to talk to his wives.

“You don’t have to be nice to me,” you said before starting to shovel soup into your mouth.

“Like hell, we don't.” Frankie retorted, earning a short child from one of the others. You chuckled and swallowed the food in your mouth. You picked up your glass and gestured it at Frankie

“Take notes, Ladies. Frankie doesn’t try bullshit on me” Frankie gestured her glass back. You guessed she’d been in a similar situation, forced to get along with people because it was easier. She didn’t try to be your friend because you knew you wouldn’t appreciate it, which in a weird turn of events you appreciated.

Your father arrived back. It was now you noticed he was a lot cleaner than usual, even the signature leather jacket had left him. Now you were alarmed. In his hands was a pink box with a purple bow. He placed it in front of you and kissed the top of your head. “Happy Birthday, Y/N.”

“Is it my birthday?” you asked, not quite sure. Time had become a blur since the end of the world. You pushed your bowl away to bring the box in front of you.

“Give or take a few months. I know I’ve missed a couple what with...everything...so this will count for at least one of them.” He placed a hand on your shoulder giving it a little squeeze, your own hand finding its way on top “There’s a lot more gifts coming for my princess, don't you worry.” You couldn’t help the smile that came to you, giggling slightly. You looked up at him, seeing nothing but unconditional love being sent back your way

“Dad, it’s alright.” You smiled and turned back to your gift. The wives were now watching, captivated by this little bit of humanity at the end of it all. You gingerly opened the bow and lifted the lid off.

Inside lay a military knife, clearly hand-made on-site with a beautiful leather handle and your name carved into the side in cursive. You released a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. You picked it up, finding it fits in your hand perfectly.

“It’s beautiful” you near-whispered, watching as the candle lights hit against the metal. In a moment it was lodged in the table a mere inch from Tanya’s hand. You kicked back your chair, making your father step back, and grabbed the vodka bottle in one motion. “Now if only I had a reason to fucking use it” you spat as you stormed out of the room.

Back in your room, you sat in the corner with your head against the cold-glass window, looking down at the dead, only illuminated by the moon. You had killed so many of them before arriving at Sanctuary. Hell, you’d say you saved your old man’s ass more than he saved you...but he was a people’s person. Ruthless. But a people’s person. ‘Let me do my thing and I’ll have these assholes sucking my dick in days’.

That was a different age. Back when your father was a teacher. Back when your mother was sick. Back when your father cheated on her with anything with a pulse and she took it out on you. Back when your mother’s treatment and your father’s lifestyle drained your college fund and you had to enlist. Back when she’d attack you, both emotionally and physically, and you took it cause you knew she was in pain. Back when you had come home from a 16-month mission because her condition had worsened. Back when the world went to shit. Back when you had to put her down because your sleazeball of a father wasn’t man enough to do it. You looked down at the dead and thought, if you reached your hands through the wires...you could be back with your mom.

Your door opened slowly, heavy footsteps coming your way. There was no need to look. Only one person would enter your room without knocking. “You scared Tanya back there, Princess.” your father spoke in a low voice.

“She can take it” you croaked, a clear sign you had been crying. He kneeled down beside you. In the reflection of the window, you could see him holding out the knife.

“Please take it.” You turned around, your back now pressed to the window.

“Why?”

“You need to be able to protect yourself”

“Give me a gun then”

“No.”

“Why? Scared I’d leave.” You took a swig of your drink.

“I see you’re upset-”

“Do you?! Do you really?” you cut him short, stumbling to your feet using the window to push yourself up. “Why am I upset? Because I eat food I don’t deserve? Because you make people die for me? Because you have me trapped in a fucking tower like Repunzel or some shit!?” That earned a chuckle from him, which only served to piss you off. “I should be down there earning my bit just like everyone else.”

“Do we have to go over this again?” He sighed dramatically. He cupped your face, the knife now dangerously close to you. “You're my daughter Y/N. My darling baby girl. My precious princess”

“I was twenty-six when this shit hit, dad” you mumbled through your squished cheeks. He gave them a little loving slap.

“You're valuable to me, which means some people might want to hurt you. You eat to stay alive, people die because they’re stupid, and you live in this room on this floor so you can be kept safe.” you blew him off with a wave of your hand and an angry sigh. You pushed passed him to your bed, twirling to sit on it and start taking off your combat boots. He walked over and lodged the knife in your headboard before kneeling down to look up at you. “I have to go out for a while. Find this Rick Grimes asshole and get some payback for the fifteen men he killed at our outpost.”

A chill went up your spine “The one near the hilltop settlement” you whispered.

“That’s right.” You looked him in the eye, not noticing how your lip quivered.

“You don’t have too.” you didn’t know if it was the booze or genuine worry for human life but you found yourself begging. “We have more than enough peo-” he shushed you soothingly, his hand coming up to your cheek, rubbing soothing circles.

“Oh but you know I have too, and while I’m gone I don’t want anyone to get ideas on what they can do to you so” he nodded towards the knife. You pulled it out of the wall, looking it over before nodding, mouthing ‘okay’ and depositing it in your nightstand table. He kissed your forehead before leaving, wishing you a good night. Once again alone you took two large gulps of your drink and laid down.

Edit: For creative reasons Y/N is now 26 at the beginning of the apocalypse instead of the original 24

#daughter x negan #daughter reader #daughter reader x negan #twd negan #the walking dead negan #the walking dead #twd #twd reader insert #twd imagine #twd y/n #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfic #twd fanfiction #the walking dead tv #twd tv #slowburn #AJ's Negan's Daughter AU

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bunnys-beetlejuice-blog · 3 years

Text

bangs pots and pans together loudly FIC UPDATE COME GET YALL SOME JUICE

Apparently the vital, missing component to enjoying school was having a friend there. Go figure.

He and Kevin only have that first period class together, but they make the most of it, passing notes back and forth between the two of them, the teacher too tired that early in the morning to notice, or care. Lunch isn’t depressing anymore. They sit together under the shade tree, and Kevin does seem to also appreciate the view. “Can you even imagine working up a sweat, on purpose?” Betelgeuse pats his gut. “You know I can’t.”

“I can’t believe how little the track shorts are. That’s obscene. You think I’d look good in them?” “You join track and I’ll come to every meet, an’ it won’t be for th’ love of th’ sport.” He doesn’t think normal friends talk to each other like this, but he doesn’t actually know. Does everyone flirt with their friends? Are friends just cool people you wanna fuck but haven’t yet? Is it demon hormone bullshit, making him read into everything? Unclear.

It’s all going so good, until it isn’t, suddenly.

One lunch, two months into being there, Kevin pulls a huge and impressive old book from his backpack. “Look what I goooot,” he sing songs, waving it in Betelgeuse’s face, and he sneezes in response. “Smells old.” Emily and Lydia would love it. “It is. It’s very old,” Kevin confirms, and he moves so he’s sitting next to Betelgeuse, shoulder to shoulder, both their backs to the shade tree. “It’s about demons.”

Betelgeuse loses interest immediately, and focuses on not going pink at their shoulders touching, instead. “Z’at so?” he grunts. Kevin doesn’t seem to pick up on his moodiness, though. “It talks about all these ancient beings,” he explains, flipping pages. “Their summoning circles, their aspects,” he gives Betelgeuse a nudge at that, “all the things they can do for you, and the boons they grant.” He feels uncomfortable. “What’s with this? You obsessed with me, or somethin’?” He tries to play it as a joke, but that glint in Kevin’s eyes is back, and he doesn’t like it. “Of course, who wouldn’t be obsessed if they learned all this shit is actually true? It’s like there’s a whole secret world behind a locked door, and I’ve got the key.” Kevin looks back up at him.

He gets the feeling he’s the key. It’s not a good feeling.

“Where’d you even get this fuckin’ thing?” he lifts a finger, and the book slams closed in Kevin’s lap. His friend huffs. “Internet, of course.” “No, I mean… why were you lookin’ for somethin’ like this?” “I want to learn more. Don’t you?” Kev presses, and reopens the book. “I mean, what if there’s something amazing you can do, and you just don’t know, cause you’re not bothering to try?”

“So I’ll never know, so what?” Betelgeuse feels like this is a losing argument, but he tries anyways. “What’s so great about bein’ weird? You’re lucky you’re human.” “Dude, don’t even start with that. You can fly.” “So can humans,” he points out. “Wh- A plane and fucking levitating for fun are not the same, and you know it, BeetleJerk.” Kevin honestly can’t understand why he’s not excited over this. “I just mean… I’d rather be human, than this.” He blinks at his own words, because he’s never expressed that out loud before, ever. But it doesn’t feel untrue. “You’re out of your mind, more so than usual. Every human alive wants to feel special, and do the stuff you can do. Why are you acting like it’s so miserable all of a sudden? You use your powers all the time, I’ve seen you literally teleport five feet because you’re too lazy to walk.”

“You don’t get it.” He’s feeling sullen now, and he wiggles a little away from Kevin, and crosses his arms. “BJ, come on-” Betelgeuse teleports away to under the bleachers, and he eats his lunch there, until the bell rings.

He’s waiting for Emily after school, not feeling particularly friendly, when Kevin approaches. They stand there awkwardly. It feels tense, and weird, and he waits to see what the breather does. “Don’t be mad,” Kevin says, finally. “M’not mad.” “You sound mad.” “You know what mad on me looks like,” he finally turns to look at his friend, amber eyes burning with irritation. “First hand.”

Kevin looks down, and kicks at a rock that might not actually be there. “I thought you’d be excited. BJ, come on, I don’t wanna.. Not be friends over this.”

Betelgeuse signs, and scratches at the scruff on his chin. “It’s not like that,” he relents after a moment. “I just, I don’t care about that stuff. An’ I don’t wanna sit around, focusin’ on it. I don’t exactly like feelin’ different. Yeah, I do tricks an’ use my magic an’ stuff, but it’s hard to control. I lose my temper once an’ I could seriously destroy somethin’, or hurt my family. It doesn’t exactly feel good, knowin’ that. No one else my age can stand me, cause they can tell I’m weird. Before you, it was fuckin’ lonely, Kev.”

He feels a familiar pressure, because Kevin has taken his hand, and the human gives it a squeeze. He accepts it, melting a little against the other boy. “Still friends?” Kevin asks, and Betelgeuse purrs in response, resting his head on Kevin’s shoulder.

It’s not till later, at home, that he realizes Kevin never actually apologized.

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It’s like that, for a while. He knows Kevin still has the book. He knows he’s reading it, and sometimes Kevin will bring up demon stuff, but Betelgeuse has almost exactly a minute and a half of patience for answering questions or hearing about it. Still, Kev doesn’t stop. He might feel angrier if the breather wasn’t so god damn cute.

The air is starting to go cold, and leaves are beginning to fall. October is settling in, getting comfortable, and mom’s starting to break out the Halloween décor. It’s the middle of a kind of gloomy, Autumn day, when things get weird.

Kevin has the book open, much to Betelgeuse’s annoyance, and he’s blabbing away about a demon that supposedly grants wealth- “Do you think you could do that?” -when Betelgeuse looks down at the book, and sees Juno looking back at him. It’s not really her, it’s an illustration, but he’d recognize the bitch anywhere. She’s ink, glaring up from the page, those same age lines etched into her face, confirming his private theory that she’d been an old hag even when she was young. The slit neck is prominent, and as he stares, he sees smoke billow out of it. Oh, fuck no.

He grabs the book and slams it shut, startling Kevin, and then he teleports it directly under them, a mile down in the rock of the earth. Kev blinks for a moment, confused, before looking at his friend. “Wh.. Dude, WHAT?”

“Possessed book,” he croaks out, feeling tense, because he can smell cigarette smoke. “And you’re afraid of it? Why? You are also a literal fucking demon!” “That’s why I’m not messin’ with it!” Betelgeuse stands up, uneasy. The ground around the tree feels weird, now. He doesn’t like it here anymore. “Cause I actually understand why it’s a bad fuckin’ idea! God, you should have instincts that tell you not to mess with this stuff! You’re deficient, Kev, seriously.”

“Me deficient? Seriously?” Kev snaps, which hurts in a new, unexpected way. “Whatever, asshole. Give me my book back.” Kevin stands up, too, but he’s not uneasy, he’s angry.

“It’s better off where it is.”

“Which is where?”

Betelgeuse glances down. The grass around the tree is starting to wither. Kevin follows his gaze, but doesn’t seem to notice the dying vegetation. “You buried it? Come on!”

“Leave it, Kev.”

“This isn’t just your cool secret, anymore, it’s mine too!” Kevin glares at him. “You can’t keep me out of it, BJ. That’s not fair. God, at this point, I know more than you! You should be listening to me!”

He feels his volatile temper flare.

“Ex-fuckin’-scuze me?”

He waits for Kevin to take it back. Instead, his friend doubles down. “Demons have to listen to humans,” Kevin crosses his arms. “If they’re summoned. It’s in the book.” “Nobody summoned me,” Betelgeuse snarls, letting his real snake eyes show, an intimidation tactic that works for about half a second. Kevin’s too used to him, at this point. “I’m up here on a deal.” “Bet I could do it. I bet I could summon you. Then you’d have to listen to me.” “Yeah? Well, good luck without your stupid book!” He storms off, leaving Kevin standing there.

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The rest of the day sucks. He’s moody all day, annoyed in the car, grumpy in his room. He cranks metal and wishes he’d learned to play a guitar instead of his rinky, happy sounding ukulele. The instrument isn’t going to produce the noise he wants to express himself, right now. He throws it across the room, into a wall, where it smashes, and reforms a minute later, because… it’s still his favorite, after all. Even if it’s no good for expressing his teenage angst.

He can hear shuffling, and talking, outside his room, though he can’t make out what’s being said over the music. After a moment, though, there’s a knock at his door. “Hey, Bug?” Emily calls. “Can you come give me a hand with something?” He wants to tell her to piss off, go away, to leave him the hell alone, but.. It’s Emily. The CD player lets out a strangled choke and suddenly stops, and the door swings open, all without him moving from his flopped position on the bed. “Sup, ma?” he grunts. Emily peaks her head into the room, and smiles when she sees him, the expression radiating warmth and adoration and.. Oh, God/Satan, bless his sunbeam of a mother. “Just wondering if you’re free to do a little decorating?” She reaches behind her and grabs a fake severed bloody limb from the box he assumes she’s dragged into the hallway from the attic. “Don’t you worry it takes away from the “wow factor” to do Halloween twice a year?” He asks, standing and stretching, before apparating in the hallway behind her, and giving the decor box a nudge with his boot. “What? No way, there’s never enough Halloween!” Emily grins. “Get that, please.” The box floats along behind him as they head downstairs. They pause in the entryway, as Emily thinks out loud. “So, maybe the kitchen should be-” “Functional as a kitchen, please,” Charles calls from the living room. Emily rolls her eyes. “Okay, fine! Spoilsport! We’ll focus on the entryway for now,” she decides. “You wanna put up cobwebs in the rafters?” She gets on tiptoes to reach into the floating box, and he lowers it a bit for her, as she grabs the fake webbing. “I could just instantly decorate the whole room,” He takes to floating next to the box. “Could make sure it’s all normal human stuff, too,” He adds, before she can respond. “I know you can… But I like decorating,” Emily says brightly. “It’s not about getting it done quickly. It’s about, you know, doing it together.” “So why are dad and Lydia slacking?” Her smile doesn’t falter, but becomes softer. “It kinda felt like you needed some mom time, today,” She says simply. God, she can read him easier than Kev can read his stupid book. “We got in a fight,” he admits. She hums at that, because he only has one friend. It’s not hard to guess who he could possibly mean. “I’m sorry, Bug. What over?” He hesitates. So far he’s not let any of his family in on this book business. He’s been sort of hoping it could just go away on it’s own, and not be a thing. Kevin’s made it into a thing, though, and not telling even his mom feels… bad.

“He’s really into demons. Like, really, really into em,” He rasps, floating up and beginning to put up the spiderwebs, as his mother takes down the usual, sort of spooky wall hangings and trades them for her very intentionally spooky Halloween ones. “He’s got this book, an’ it’s all about demons an’ like, how to summon them, an’ their powers, an’ stuff… Sometimes th’ way he talks, it’s like.. Are we friends cause we’re friends, or friends cause you think I’m gonna be... useful?”

Maybe that doesn't make any sense, but that’s how it’s been feeling, like there’s an invisible shoe hanging midair, and it’s about to drop. His mother waits until he’s finished before looking up at him. “And you fought over that?” She prods. “Not exactly.” How the fuck can she even tell that, though? Damn her mom powers. He really, really didn’t want to talk about this, not to her, but… “I saw Juno. In th’ book,'' He lowers back down to the floor, and digs through the box, pulling out fake body parts. Back up he goes, to stick these in the fake webbing. “It was just a drawing of her, but it started like.. Billowing smoke-”

“From the neck,” His mother remembers, suppressing a shudder.

“Yeah. I could smell the smoke. So I got rid of the book, buried it in th’ school yard, but Kev got all pissy about it. He thinks he’s an expert on this shit, an’ he’s gonna mess with somethin’ big if he keeps this up.” “I’m sure you’ve told him that.” “He doesn’t listen. He gets this look in his eye, like it’s a game, or like… I dunno. Feels sometimes like he thinks he’s…” He searches for the words. “Like he thinks he oughta be the boss a’me, or somethin’.”

He rubs absentmindedly at the moss on his nose. It clings, stubborn as ever, same with the patches by his hairline, and he’s found it’s easier to just add another little layer to his glamour than try to do anything about it.

Maybe that’s indicative of a bigger problem. It’s easier to do a bit of magic and make everything look better than to actually fix the underlying problem. Ugh, introspection, how absolutely miserable. He wants to keep thoughts like that locked away tight, but they have a habit of slipping past his mental defenses and making him feel worse. Absolutely no one can make him feel shittier than he himself can. He sinks to the ground, going purple, and he’s instantly wrapped in his mother’s arms. “It’s okay, Beetlejuice,” Emily has both her hands on the back of his head, and he pushes his face into the crook of her neck. “I just.. I’ve only got the one friend,” he groans. “I don’t wanna stop bein’ his friend, but.. Fuck, ma.”

“I know.” Her voice is a soothing balm. She works her hands through the mess of purple hair at the back of his head. “I know, sweetheart. I know it’s lonely at school, but school isn’t forever,” she tries to assure him. “If your friend is treating you this way, well.. He’s not a very good friend. Do you want to be around someone who makes you feel this bad? Does it feel worth it, to you?”

He knows the correct answer is, “No,” but he’s not sure if his self esteem is high enough for that.

“I like him a lot,” He grumbles, and she hums again. “He’s handsome,” She says, and then pulls back far enough to pinch his nose. “But not as handsome as my son, of course,” and it’s silly enough to help knock away his mood, so that’s something, at least. “What should I do?” He doesn’t pull away from her, just soaks up the mom energy for as long as he can. “I think you need to have a talk,” Emily tells him. “Lay out how you’re feeling. Try to get his side of things, and make sure he hears your side, too. Then, at least you both tried, you know?”

It’s such a mom type answer. He groans again.

“I was worried you’d say some shit like that.” She fuzzes his hair, and he feels the tingle in his scalp that means it’s changed colors. Back to green, he assumes. “You know your moss changes color along with your hair? And your creepo-stache?” “Leave the stache alone, it’s tryin’ it’s best,” He pretends to be defensive.

“It makes you look like the founder of a forum for people who marry their cars,” Lydia offers, from the bottom step of the staircase, where she has apparently been just chilling and listening.

“Wh-! Mom, it’s not that bad, right?” Emily tilts her head to the side and gives what can only be described as a condescending smile. “Oh, you’re both in for it now.” He brings the various decor items to life to terrorize them, and then Charles joins his side, sympathizing with his son vis-à-vis bad teenage facial hair, and by the time the whole squabble is over, hardly any decorating has gotten done… But he does feel better. His family’s good like that.

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Monday rolls around, same as it always does, but there’s a weird feeling in the air. Halloween is a week away, barely missing getting a weekend date, but there’s some big Halloween bash the school is apparently throwing. There’s fliers for it everywhere, plastered all over lockers and bulletin boards. He’s not much of a participator, though, and his reaction to his locker being plastered over with invites to a party he doesn't care about is to snap his fingers. All the fliers on all the lockers up and down the hall, all instantly fall loose at once, littering the floor. A few students jump back, but no one looks his way, because why would they?

He’s grabbing his history textbook when he feels a tap on the shoulder, and when he turns, it’s a girl he recognizes, but her name is absolutely lost on him.

“You’re BJ, right?” Miffy askes, and he nods. “Yeah, s’right,” and Margo seems to wince at how gruff his voice is, before continuing. “Um, you and that guy Kevin, you’re like…” Milicent trails off, waiting for him to finish her thought, but sorry, baby, he can barely finish his own. “Like…?” He says, with his gravel voice copying her tone and inflection, and she huffs. “Together?” Marge asks, “Like, all of the time?”

He cocks his head, and squints at her, hands t-rexing at his sides, as Lydia likes to say.\

“Usually,” He concedes, and he gets the feeling he’s dragging this out much, much more than Mango clearly wants, because he spies a group of girls a little ways off, waiting for her. One of them is staring intently, more focused on him, but he pushes that thought aside.

“Look, okay, he’s gonna be out for a few days, and I’m just trying to see if you can take him his homework,” McGrubber has grown tired of having to stand here, talking to the chubby goth loser, apparently. “I’m a student aid in the office and they’re trying to make me do it, but I have track practice!” Thaaaat’s where he knows her from. She looks different, not bouncing and sweating and also not half a football field away. “Sure, fine, I’ll make sure Kev gets his work. Wouldn’t want you to miss out on running in a fuckin’ circle, Maria.” Her face sours. “It’s Blair.” So close. “Who fuckin’ cares,” He replies, and turns back to his locker. He can hear her rejoin her friend group, all of them fawning over her harrowing experience of having to speak to him in public. The last thing he hears from Blair is, “He’s just so goddamn weird,” and then the group rounds the corner.

He closes his locker harder than he maybe needs to.

Kevin isn’t in class that day, or the next, or even the one after. The shade tree has withered and died completely, it’s color sapped and gone, and even walking near it makes him feel uneasy. His new lonely lunch spot is under the bleachers, which feels even more voyeuristic of a spot to watch the track team, but even that activity feels tainted, somehow. He’s back to being lonely.

He can’t stand being lonely.

It gets so bad he contemplates sitting, wait for it, on the bleachers, and maybe even trying to strike up a conversation, but he’s too chicken shit. He’s been going to school with these kids for the past three years, and no one’s wanted to talk to him or chat with him in all that time. He can’t imagine that’s about to change.

Still, on Thursday, miserable and lonely, he gives it a try.

Sitting up here sucks. It’s just a hard metal seat on a gloomy day, and when he’d ventured up and sat down, other people had slowly moved away from him, until he was sitting by himself, all the breathers huddled in a different area, away from him. He'd tried talking, but hardly had a "Hey, how ya doin'?" grated out before the migration began.

Figures.

He finishes eating and lies on his back, resting his hands on his chest, eyes closed, and after a while he feels someone standing over him, and something laid over his hands. He opens his eyes. There’s the most beautiful girl staring down at him. She’s got long, bleach blonde hair, darker at the roots, which is hanging down in a halo around her face, and the biggest, clearest blue eyes he’s ever seen. He glances down, to see she’s placed a daisy over his hand. He looks back up at her, amber eyes questioning.

“You looked so still,” She smiles. Her voice is like music. He thinks he can hear harps. “With your hands folded like that. Kind of like an open casket.” He’d been forgetting to breathe, apparently, which happens sometimes. She thought he looked like a corpse, and she placed a flower over him.

“Sorry, if that’s weird. You’re.. BJ?” She asks, and he picks up the daisy, sits up, and nods. “Yeah, you’re…” “Barbara,” she fills him in. “You’re not so good with names.” “Mmm. Buffy tell you that?” He recognizes her now, from that group of girls. Barbara sits next to him, which makes zero sense. “It’s Blair,” she corrects him gently, but not without a giggle in her voice. “Oh, right.” Her name could be fuckin’ Moonpie and it’d make the same amount of difference to him, but he’d agree with anything Barbara said, if it meant she kept sitting there, talking to him. “Are you going to the Halloween party?” She asks. “Supposed to be pretty killer. It kind of seems like your scene.” “I’m not exactly a social butterfly,” which is the understatement of the god damn century, honestly, but she laughs and nudges her shoulder with his. “Well, I think you should come. I bet you’d have the coolest costume. Maybe think about it?”

“I guess, maybe..” He says lamely, because his brain is short circuiting from that small touch.

“Barb, come on!” someone calls to her from a ways away, on the track. Lunch is nearly over. She stands, and smooths down the long skirt she’s wearing, which is modest but flattering. “Later, BJ,” she smiles, and just like that, she’s gone, like an angel going back up to heaven in a beam of light, off to rejoin her friends. He can hear what she says to them, though. “You guys are mean, he’s not so bad. Just shy.”

He keeps the daisy in a little glass of water on his dresser, and strums love songs on his ukulele.

```````````````````````````````````````````````````````

Thinking about Barbara and her smile and the way she nudged him is a fun distraction, at least for a little while, but when it’s Saturday, and he still hasn’t heard from Kevin, he decides it’s time to demon up and see what the fuck is happening with him. He’s been just teleporting Kev’s homework inside his room, and he’s sure it’s falling into a pile on the floor each time and startling him, but no one ever said how he had to deliver it. Today though, emboldened by the pretty girl on the bleachers, he appears at Kevin’s front door instead, holding Friday’s work, and he knocks. It takes a moment, but Mr. Loh answers.

Betelgeuse hasn’t had much chance to interact with Kev’s dad. He looks like a normal, tired dad, wholly unimpressive, and kinda short. Chuck could wrestle this guy to the mat, no problem.

“Oh, BJ,” Mr. Loh says, and then glances at what’s in his hands. “Kevin’s homework? Thank you. He’s holed up in his room… won’t come out.. Maybe,” and he suddenly looks hopeful. “You two are friends. Maybe you can try talking to him?”

Well, that’s what he was there to do anyways, so sure. “I gotcha, Mr. L,” he nods, stepping inside, and heading up the stairs and down the hall to Kevin’s room. The closer he gets to the door, though, the weirder he feels. Something stinks, figuratively and literally. It smells like… It smells like the waiting room. It’s that same, veil is thin type air that he can smell on Halloween night, but how the fuck is he smelling it here? He bangs on Kevin’s door. “Hey, Kev, it’s the B-Man,” he calls, trying to keep his tone playful, but he feels like he’s doing a poor job. What the hell is going on? “Come on, man, open up!” He tries again, when he receives no response. He thinks he can hear a shuffle behind the door. “Dude, I will bust this fuckin’ door down,” He growls, all the play gone from his tone. “You know I will. Better yet-”

He appears inside the bedroom, just in time for Kevin to slam shut the closet door. Kevin turns to look at him, back pressed to the wood. There’s a beat, both teens staring at each other, wide eyed, Betelgeuse in that weird way he does, and Kevin looking frazzled. “What,” the demon grates out, “the fuck, are you getting up to in here? It smells like the netherworld, Kev.” Unfortunately, that makes Kevin’s face light up. “It does? Oh my god, that’s perfect! It must be starting to work!” He crosses the bedroom, going to his desk, where an old book is sitting open. It’s not the same one he took from his friend, it can’t be, that book is still a mile down in presumably solid rock. “Another musty ass tome, great,” he growls, but Kevin ignores him, flipping through the book.

He hates feeling ignored.

A black and white striped arm sprouts from Kevin’s desk, and slams the book shut, which makes the breather turn and glare at him. “Get out of my room, BJ,” is all Kevin says, and Betelgeuse ignores that, instead crossing the floor to get a look at that book. “Where th’ hell do you keep finding these fuckin’ things?”

“This one I bought from a one armed man living out of a 1973 Oldsmobile Delta 88 Royale,” Kevin recites. Betelgeuse squints at him, top teeth over bottom lip. “You’re too gay to know what that means,” he says, plainly, and Kevin shrugs. “He wouldn’t stop talking about his stupid car. I now know more about that antique than I know about geography.” It feels fun, for a second, like this drama isn’t happening, and they’re just having a conversation. It doesn’t last, though. He can’t let Kev off the hook.

“So you bought a second cursed book, this time from some amputee homeless guy, and you’re just, doing the rituals inside of it? And this seems like a super good idea to you?”

“I’m practicing,” Kevin replies.

“So what’s in the closet, Kevin?”

“Get out of my room, Betelgeuse.”

The way Kevin says his name is weird. It doesn’t feel like how it normally feels when a breather says the full thing. He shakes it off, and gives his friend a defiant look, before waving a hand and throwing open the closet door. There’s a cleared spot, in the middle of the closet floor, and a fucking summoning circle in what smells like, “Pig’s blood? Couldn’t get human?” He turns to look at Kevin, who is glaring at him intently. He matches the look.

“Betelgeuse Shoggoth, get out of my room.”

That gets his attention. It feels like an invisible hand is pushing him, and he stumbles back out of the room, confused. “W-what?” Kevin is just standing there, staring at him, and Betelgeuse stares back, eyes wild. “You motherfucker,” he hisses, eyes in snake slits, teeth sharp, claws extended. “You wanna do that “real name” bullshit with me? That the choice you’re makin’ here, Kev?”

Kevin doesn’t even look phased. “I’m working on gaining a bit more control, but looks like that works, for now.”

“You’re cracked!” Betelgeuse growls, absolutely furious. “You’re really tryin’ to summon me? Are you out of your head!?”

“You’re wasting your powers,” Kevin storms forward. “You’re a supernatural being, and you go to school and play your stupid ukulele, and don’t even try to do anything bigger. You could be stepping on everyone under you,” his former friend is going red in the face. “You could be leading, you could be ruling, but you just jerk off in your room and play pretend at being human. But someone might as well profit, here. Why not me?”

“I thought.. I thought we were friends,” is all the demon can say, lamely, and Kevin’s smile is the meanest thing he’s ever seen on a breather. “Once you’re fully listening to me, we can be friends again. Betelgeuse Shoggoth, get out of my house.”

He feels that same invisible pull, and he thinks maybe if he was stronger he could resist it, but a demon’s true name is like a lead on a dog, meant to control them, and unfortunately, Kevin has a tight hand on his leash. He makes it to the front door, and stumbles out, covering his face until he can calm himself enough to reapply his glamour.

Shit, he thinks, straightening up, and staring up at Kevin’s bedroom window. He is so fucked. ``````````````````````````````````````````````` Posted this chapter and another over at Ao3. You can read it right here

#beetlejuice fanfiction #beetlejuice broadway #lydia deetz #emily deetz #beetlejuice fic #beetlejuice the musical

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machine-gun-casie · 4 years

Text

Teach Me?

(not my gif, found it on google can’t find who made it)

anon: Hey I'm so happy to know that you accept requests about Rook cause he needs more love. I love your imagine of Colson teaching the reader guitar. Could you possibly do the same with rook and the reader except with drums. Like maybe she was watching him practice or something and then he teacher her maybe her sitting on his lap? Idk just some really cute stuff.

a/n: thought this was kinda cute but i didnt wanna make it too similar to the colson guitar one so no established relationship

wc: 900+

“Stop staring, you’re being creepy.”

“What?” You asked, sitting up from your slumped position on the couch to face Colson who was next to you.

“You’re staring and it’s creepy. Stop.” He chuckled, not looking up from his phone.

“Am not.” You mumbled.

“Are too. The only reason Rook can’t tell is ‘cause he’s really into it.” Colson said, pointing at the drummer in question.

Rook was going crazy on the drums, in-ears in place and head banging with the beat. You had been watching him for who knows how long, it was so hypnotizing. And also you might have a little crush on him but that didn’t matter at all.

“I wasn’t tryna be creepy, it’s just that-”

“He’s drumming, I know.” Colson rolled his eyes with a smirk on his face. You had been friends since Colson’s first tour and your bias towards drummers didn’t go unnoticed by him. “Go talk to him and stop being creepy.”

“But-”

“Go! If you don’t, I’ll set him up with someone and you can spend the rest of tour being a little bitch.”

You gasped and narrowed your eyes at him. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Watch me.” Colson smiled devilishly, eyes sparkling. “Hey Rook!” Your eyes grew wide at his words. Rook obviously heard nothing, but Colson loved watching you try to figure out what to do. “If you don’t do something, I’m gonna keep calling and you know he’s gonna hear me at some point.”

You looked at Colson and then over at Rook, and then back at Colson and back over at Rook. You rolled your eyes and let out a little sigh. “I fucking hate you.” You groaned as you stood up.

“You love me.” Colson laughed, taking a pillow off the couch and throwing it at your ass as you walked away. “Go get ‘em, tiger!”

You threw your middle finger up at him as you walked over to Rook and you could hear Colson cackling behind you.

When you approached Rook, you couldn’t bring yourself to interrupt him. You were satisfied with just watching him bust it out on the drums, it almost felt like you were living vicariously through him. But staring up close was even more weird than staring at him from the couch, so you shook yourself out of it.

“Rook.” You said, hoping to get his attention, but that didn’t seem to work. “Rook!” You raised your voice. Still nothing. So you tapped his shoulder and that seemed to finally get his attention.

It was almost like he was woken up from a trance the way he got so confused and looked at his surroundings. But when he looked at you he smiled so big, like he was glad it was you interrupting him and not anyone else. “Hey, y/n. What’s up?”

“Uh, so…” You started, not knowing where to go with this. “I’ve been bugging Kells to give me drum lessons for ages, but he’s an asshole. I was hoping maybe you could teach me?”

“You wanna learn how to drum?” Rook asked, standing up and taking out one of his in-ears.

“Yeah, I’ve always wanted to but I’ve never really had the chance.” You shrugged.

“No shit. I’d love to teach you. Come here.” Rook leaned back and pulled an extra stool out from behind him and put it right behind the first one. He sat down and patted the stool in front of him. “Sit here and we can start.”

“Oh right now?” You asked.

“Yeah, right now.” Rook chuckled. You giggled and sat down in front of him, trying so hard not to overreact when he pulled you closer into his chest. He placed his drum sticks in your palms and took out his phone. “Alright, so I’m gonna play a song and I want you to listen carefully. Try to connect what I hit on the drums to what you hear in the song, okay?”

You had never thought of it like that before and it made you want to try your hand at it even more. But your heart fell into your stomach when Rook took your closed fists into his hands to start. You knew it was coming but damn, those hands were something else. You were never one to drool over a guy’s hands before, but wow.

As he led you with each beat of the drum and each crash of the cymbals, you almost forgot of his hands holding yours and his chest behind you. Actually sitting behind the drum set this time instead of watching from afar was blowing your mind. You always wished to understand how Rook felt on stage every night and you could almost taste it.

When the song was over, you felt yourself start deflating before you realised what just happened. Rook held you practically in his arms for three minutes and seven seconds. You let go of the drum sticks and let them fall into Rook’s hand and turned to face him.

Before he could say anything, you put your hand on his chin and led him into a kiss. His eyebrows shot up at the surprise, but he was anything but against it. He let the drum sticks in his hands clatter to the floor as he pulled you closer to him.

What you would later come to find out is that Colson was filming this entire interaction.

“Ay, watch this shit. I’m a fucking matchmaker, dude! Hit me up for all your matchmaker needs, I’ll hook you up.”

#rook #rook x reader #r00k #rook cappelletty #jp cappelletty #jp cappelletty x reader #jp cappelletty fluff #jp cappelletty fanfic #jp cappelletty fanfiction #rookxx #rook xx #rook fic #rook fluff #rook fanfic #rook fanfiction

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aerisahale · 4 years

Text

Dance Lessons

Notes: I couldn’t stop thinking about how Sara learned to dance the tango, so here is the League teaching Sara to dance.

Summary: Learning to dance is part of the League’s standard education. Turns out, Sara is not so good at it. Or, perhaps, she just needed the right partner.

Pairing: Nyssa x Sara

Words: 1,546

Sara’s steps slow as she is ushered into the room by the deceptively strong hands of her newest appointed teacher, an older woman she has never seen before. She was disbelieving when she had been introduced to her that this woman could fight. Surveying the room of half a dozen pairs and cementing the conclusion that this woman wasn’t a fighter, Sara says skeptically, “I can dance at a club, but the tango is not exactly in my wheelhouse.”

The music cuts off as the older woman gives out a few instructions. Al Raqisa is hearing none of her protests as her teacher physically moves her into a starting position with a partner she snatches from somewhere nearby. The man nods at her, one hand coming to rest at her back, the other taking a gentle hold of her hand. She is instructed on her own hand placement and the music picks up again.

At first, she is yanked around by the lead of her partner. It takes a few halting steps before she catches on to the rhythm of it—at least, she thinks she is taking the correct steps until her foot lands on something and her partner grunts as he lurches to the side. With more grace than Sara would have, he catches himself and proffers his hand, even as he arches a brow at her.

She tries again, steps this way, then that way, then twists. She stumbles and is caught by Al Raqisa who presses them closer to each other. “Closer, this is not a children’s dance. This is a dance of passion!”

The third attempt is a complete disaster. Being closer than she was at first causes Sara to constantly step on or trip over her partner’s feet. The man disengages after the fourth time she’s squashed his toes and shakes his head at their teacher. “It seems Ta-er Al Sahfer is only interested in assassinating my appendages.”

“Why do we have to learn this?” Sara growls. “I was under the impression we are assassins.”

“Assassins often go undercover and you never know what skills you may need, so the League strives to ensure a well-rounded education,” a smooth voice calls.

Everyone in the room kneels, heads bowed in deference as the Heir to the Demon strides in from one of the side doors. She crosses the floor and pushes open a window, taking a moment to look out it before she turns back and sweeps her gaze over Sara.

They have stolen a sincere moment here and there since Nyssa first saved Sara from the wreckage of the Amazo and Sara holds each one close to her heart, closer still after dark falls and she can admit to herself that for the first time she thinks she might feel the stirring of real feelings in her heart. When she allows them, each memory she holds stokes the flames of her feelings hotter than the adrenaline of her secret relationship with her sister’s boyfriend, hotter than any boyfriend before that.

While Nyssa checks on her progress occasionally, her progress has always been in pursuit of combat, something she found herself naturally excelling at. Embarrassment colors her cheeks as she is clearly failing at dancing of all tasks. Privately, she wonders if Nyssa does that for all her recruits or if Sara is special. Every time the thought comes to her, she hopes it is the latter. Sara risks peeking up at Nyssa through her eyelashes and she is caught in more ways than one when she is pinned by dark eyes. The simple black outfit that matches the one Sara wears does nothing to diminish the beauty the woman possesses, and Sara is not unaffected by it.

Nyssa turns towards Al Raqina. “I will personally ensure that my recruit is better prepared the next time she graces your dance floor.”

Motioning with a jerk of her chin, Sara hastens to follow after Nyssa’s quick strides as she leaves through the same door she came in. They go through passageway after passageway and turn after turn until, even after three months, Sara is lost and can not find her way back to the room they started from. They come out into a greeting area, a couple couches press against the walls and two guards stand at either side of a double-doored entrance.

Upon seeing Nyssa, the guards open the doors for her and the pair climb the steps into a lavishly decorated bedroom, a far cry different than the bunk room Sara shares with the other trainees. A desk is pressed against one wall and upon it sits one simple picture of a dark-haired woman, smiling softly. An article of clothing is thrown haphazardly on the bench at the end of the draped four-poster bed, and it seems at odds with the picture of perfection Nyssa builds, or perhaps that is only Sara’s perception.

That is all Sara gets a good look at before she is further led out into a courtyard, warm under the Tibetan sun despite their elevation. The courtyard is walled off and private, a small pond in the corner, a carefully manicured tree at the edge. A table and two chairs occupy the corner closest to the doors to Nyssa’s bedroom, but the rest remains open, paved with the same stone the League compound is built from. Nyssa comes close and Sara eyes her warily before the taller woman holds her hand out in an exact imitation of her dancing partner from minutes ago.

“There’s no music,” Sara hears herself say, even as her blood thunders in her ears and her thoughts are occupied by thoughts of being pressed close to the woman who saved her, taught her to fight.

This earns her a smile. “Listen.”

Sara quiets and does as she is told, awareness extending outward until she takes in the staccato beats of a guitar filtering up and over the walls of the courtyard. The elevation of Nyssa’s bedroom allows her a clear line to the open window of Al Raqina’s dance studio. It brings a smile to her own face, despite the wash of self-consciousness as she wonders if Nyssa was watching and sought to save her—or perhaps her dance partner. Nyssa takes her hand and presses a hand to her back, pulling Sara tightly against her. “The ballroom is truly not that far from here. It is a winding path between the two from within, but a straight line outside. Now, instead of attempting to mimic what you see, feel how I move.”

Nyssa leads them, stepping forward and back. Sara is dragged along but thankfully does not embarrass herself any further by stepping on the Heir’s feet. It doesn’t take long before she finds a better rhythm with Nyssa than she did with her previous partner. She feels her move in a different way than she did with him. That synchronicity doesn’t take long to allow Sara to find the steps that don’t make her feel like she’s being dragged through the dance.

The music slows into a different tune and so do their movements, but Nyssa holds her closely for a moment longer than Sara had thought she would and the blonde finds herself holding the Heir even tighter, comforted in her closeness, in her scent. Nyssa pulls away sharply, quickly, turning her back to Sara.

“I am not good at dancing around subjects… With that in mind, I would like to make it clear to you that you owe me nothing. I am not oblivious to this pull between us. Once my father accepted your apprenticeship, your debt is to the League of Assassins and my father.”

Nyssa’s gasp when Sara grasps her wrist and turns her back toward her is almost a sob and it breaks Sara’s heart. Not the perfection of Sara’s perception after all. “Anything I choose to do, I choose. No one makes me do anything. Not anymore. I’ve spent three months here learning to fight. Obviously, I can’t be doing that terribly since someone sees it fit that it’s time for me to expand my knowledge.”

“It is my position as the Heir that I wish not to pressure you with.” Nyssa still won’t meet her eyes.

Sara comes closer, presses herself into Nyssa, holding her tightly. She whispers in Nyssa’s ear, “When your father sought to intimidate me, all I could do was laugh. It was nothing compared to the horrors of Ivo’s ship. Believe me when I tell you that I would never give more of myself than I wanted.”

Sara can feel Nyssa shaking as she says, “You are quite stubborn.”

“Besides, we are simply dancing. Let’s just enjoy the moment. I feel we may not get that many.”

Sara guides Nyssa’s arms back around her, leading them into a simple sway back and forth, content to just enjoy the press of their bodies, head resting on Nyssa’s chest. It is the most at peace Sara has felt since she boarded the Queen’s Gambit. Her heart flutters when the Heir rests her chin on her head. At some point, she realizes the music has stopped, but there are birds chirping, the sun warms her back, and Nyssa is in her arms.

#Nyssara #nyssa x sara #Nyssa al Ghul #Sara Lance #Arrow #femslash #fanfic #fanfiction

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samwrights · 4 years

Text

Pining After You pt. 4 [hc]

Yall really love these?! 🥺 y’all are incredible. This one was requested by @xhanjisungiex thank you for challenging me out of my comfort zone and I hope you like it bb! 🖤

Kinda warning?: Semi is aged up so mentions of alcohol consumption!

Goshiki;

Oh this poor confused boy.

If y’all already thought he kinda acted a fool before meeting you, you can imagine how he is after he decides that his other life goal is to date you.

Obtaining that was the issue.

Shirabu lowkey thought he was pathetic that he couLDN’T TALK TO A GIRL IN HIS CLASS.

But it seemed his typical tactics of trying to be the center of attention just wasn’t working—no matter how many times he raised his hand to answer a question just to get you to look his way or trying to be lab partners.

All your friends snatched you up, proving to make the task more difficult.

So for now, he continues to just admire from afar. He paid attention to the way you interacted with your friends very closing, noticing you were a very physical person; touching people when you laughed or patting them on the head in mock comfort. Goshiki wondered how you would interact with him if ever given the chance.

He noticed little details like the way you would drum your favorite colored mechanical pencil against textbooks, drumming to an imaginary song or beat while moving your lips to sing lyrics that weren’t there.

Goshiki noticed when you weren’t your normal self. You would cross your legs at the knee from time to time, rather than resting them flat on the ground, when you were tense in your desk. There was no drumming or rapidly swinging your pencil between your fingers. Just arms folded over your chest as you stared out the window.

In second year, he noticed that the happy, touchy girl that he had found himself unabashedly staring at for a third of his day wasn’t herself anymore.

The bright shine of your hair had dulled and thinned, and your lab partner was no longer any of your friends, but a boy you had started dating at the end of first year.

Goshiki would be lying if he said he didn’t imagine punching the dude once a week.

Your smile no longer squished your cheeks towards your eyes—it was no longer genuine. Your legs were now always crossed at knee, no longer relaxing with your feet flat on the floor.

There was no more drumming or lip syncing to imaginary music, and your eyes had harrowed in more. It broke his heart to think that the girl he had initially fallen for no longer existed.

When you return from winter break, Goshiki notices that while your physical features had remained the same, you and your lab partner boyfriend no longer speak to each other if necessary. Perhaps a break up? He could only hope.

Or so he thought until he heard the venom in his voice when he spoke to you. You had miscalculated the needed elements in your current lab experiment, causing the contents in the beaker to boil over and release a foul order. “This is why I fucking dumped you.” Goshiki heard the boy snarl as he began cleaning up.

You tried not to cry.

That was it, that was all that Goshiki could take. He approached your work station, eyes locking with the boy. “Excuse me, I’m Goshiki Tsutomu. Would you like to switch lab partners?”

“Dude it’s the end of the year, little late for that.”

“I don’t care.” Goshiki snapped before turning to you, the look in his eyes softening by the slightest calibre. “My partner would like to switch places with you. Would you be okay with that?” Who was this angel swooping in time save you??

The science teacher actually approved the switch, considering your grades were not exactly where they used to be. Maybe Goshiki could help bring your grade up by the end of the year.

On the first day of the two of you being lab partners, you thanked him profusely for rescuing you from the situation, which made his swell immensely.

He still may be a ways away from succeeding in his goal to date you, but having to interact with you for the rest of the year was a step in the right direction.

But more importantly, he had come to terms with the fact that while you dating him may never happen, Goshiki finally got to see your trademark smile return to your features, your cheeks squeezing shut slightly at the genuine gesture. Your feet were planted on the ground.

He would be okay with whatever happens, as long as you never lost that smile.

Semi;

I totally should have used Semi for my Punk!AU series that I’m writing 🥴 Hindsight is 20/20

SO we’re gonna go a little left field with this one, bare with me friends.

You and Semi are in a band together—with Semi Semi as your drummer and you as the vocalist.

While you two don’t hate each other, you have a strange rivalry over trivial things. Your band HATED it because they really just wanted you two to get over the sexual tension and bang.

He had to better than you at everything else besides singing.

You shotgunned a beer? Semi’s gonna do two in a row.

You got a high score in guitar hero? He was gonna play the same song and break the record.

Y’all went out to a buffet as a band and you cleared 5 plates? He was gonna have 7.

You get the point.

He would never admit to being in love with you first—it was the one thing did he didn’t want to beat you in.

But there were nights when it took everything in him walk away from his drum set in the middle of a show or practice, grab you by the waist and just give you a big ol’ smooch for hitting that high note that you had been struggling with.

Sure, he was in absolute denial about his feelings, but he could never not watch you, especially during shows.

The way you would sway around and move on the stage, the smallest wriggle of your hips, or the way you would stand back to back with your guitarist as the two of you harmonized. Made him regret offering to be the drummer when he could play guitar just as well.

He definitely imagined fucking you on his drum set

Band practice was always at his house due to the fact that he had his drum kit there and it was a pain in the ass to transport. Some days, you’d show up to Semi’s house before everyone else just to have some peace and quiet while also having access to multiple instruments.

Today was one of those days, but you were early. Like by hours. For a minute, Semi thought someone broke into his house until he heard your voice accompanying a soft ballad he had never heard before.

Quietly, he tiptoes down the steps in hopes the stairs don’t creak and give away his position. Despite the genre in which you guys were classified, your voice was the most hypnotizing thing to Semi.

You’re still lost in song when he joins on the couch, cautious so as not to disturb you while you concentrated. When you finished playing, he reached for the guitar, already memorizing the simple chords you strummed.

“Do it like this.” Semi’s voice was soft as he nestled the body between his chest and leg as he strummed the same chords, but with a half-step difference. He nodded towards you to sing, before he joined in harmonizing. By now, you were somehow in harmony with two completely different lines overlapping, his words a product of his own creativity.

As the song ended, the two of you just stared at each other, knowing full well your feelings were intertwined with every word.

He couldn’t fucking take this anymore—he had to kiss you, had to let you know that despite the petty competitions, he was in love with you.

But you let it happen with ease, allowing Semi to set the guitar down before cupping your cheeks to pull you on top of him. “You lose.” You tease when you pulled away for a breath.

“Nah, I win. I’m not in denial anymore.”

“No, I win. I never was.”

Futakuchi;

When Futakuchi became captain, he really regretted how much of a dick he was when he was “younger”.

Included in his list of regrets was how he treated you back when you used to come watch matches for Moniwa.

As the captains best friend, Futakuchi used to treat you like the team lackey.

“[name], why don’t you go be useful instead of gawking at Moniwa and fill up our water bottles?”

“[name], instead of just standing there, you could help us clean up the gym.” Etc. Even if he was technically your kouhai, he literally could not stop himself.

But when you stopped coming around, thanks to the third year’s retirements, Futakuchi realized he missed the one sided banter.

He supposed he missed it because you never gave in to his coaxing, only fueling him to try harder to bait you to fight back. All he wanted was to see you get flustered and red because of him.

Why, he didn’t know but all he did know was that he wanted to see your perfect skin covered in warmth and embarrassment. Ofc he knows why

“Maybe she stopped coming because she didn’t want to see you anymore.” Aone had told him once when it was just the two of them cleaning up after practice.

“No, her friends aren’t here anymore. Why would she come here when she has no reason to?” Was he trying to bait Aone or himself? He was unsure.

“You’re an idiot.” Was all he said in response.

During the spring high preliminaries, you decided to join your retired third year pals to watch the tournament. “Y’all really decided to give the team to Fukatuchi?” You asked in surprise.

“As shocking as it is, he’s actually doing quite well.” Moniwa says from beside you. While you hadn’t seen Fukatuchi since your friends’ retirement, you had a tough time believing his word.

After the loss to Aoba Johsai, you joined the other third years in saying hello to the team, though you would have been fine if you could have avoided the new captain.

You take the time to introduce yourself to the first year, Koganegawa, encouraging him that he did well despite being new and made sure to congratulate Aone as well. You did always like him.

“Oh? What about me?” Fukatuchi said from behind you, for which you were grateful because you were free to roll your eyes without him seeing. With the fakest smile you could muster, you turned around to greet the new captain.

As you opened your mouth, finally ready to give him a piece of your mind since Moniwa technically no longer needed to deal with him, you stopped when you noticed the serious expression on his face. “I’m sorry.” Was all he said.

“W-what?” Fukatuchi looks to his team and they all seemed to understand what he was silently telling them: leave.

“I’m sorry for the way I treated you when you used to come and watch.” What. WhaT. You.exe program not responding.

The two of you are just awkwardly standing there, alone, with the sounds of the current match running somewhere in the distance. Fukatuchi is unsure if he continue what he intiallity prepared himself to say. Biting the bullet, he caves and continues speaking. “You never took my hooks. They’re the only way I know how to pull people in.”

“Fukatuchi, that’s so stupid.”

“Wow thanks, [name].” Was all he could reply with a grimace.

“What else am I supposed to say? ‘I miss you picking on me—‘“

Fukatuchi used Kiss. It was super effective!

“Ah, so that’s how I’m supposed to get you all hot and bothered.” He smirks, noticing the blushing cascading up your neck. He may have apologized, and he may have missed throwing little quips your way.

But now that he had finally seen the way you looked when you’re embarrassed, it was his end game to see it over and over—prompting him to kiss you again. “What the hell was that even for?! You’re so confusing!”

“Aw come on, you know how the saying goes. Boys pick on the girl they like.”

Wanna see a specific character? Or a different head cannon? Want to see a whole story?

Send in requests!

#haikyuu!! imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagine #shiratorizawa #goshiki tsutomu #goshiki x reader #haikyuu goshiki #semi eita #semi semi #semi haikyuu #eita semi #semi x reader #futakuchi kenji #futakuchi x reader #why do i make these so long #i’m sorry

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havethetimeofyourstyles · 5 years

Text

You and Me

Thank you to @msmarian94 for requesting this!

This was kinda rough lol, but hope you all enjoy!

*gif not mine*

You’ve kind of always been the shy type.

Ever since you were younger, you’ve always sat on the sidelines, watching your classmates play on the playground as the teacher’s encouraged them to “stop running!” You’ve developed some sort of FOMO (fear of missing out) from being so shy and socially awkward.

Social anxiety really got the best of you during middle school and high school. Although you’ve made one good friend, Isabel, that stuck with you through it all, you’ve never really branched out to make new friends because you didn’t know how or what would be a good conversation started.

You were gorgeous—are gorgeous. Many people knew that too. You were a bit oblivious to it all; how people would stare at you, and many guys you used to go to school with, used to try and talk to you. And oblivious to just simply how gorgeous you are. But then again, your social anxiety got the best of you.

Then came around college. You didn’t have to freak out just yet because you and Isabel were going to the same college for only two years, but it’s when uni started that made you freak out a bit. Isabel was going to school in Ireland for business as you were still in London studying for journalism.

Uni was the time you had to break out of shell. It was definitely hard to though. It wasn’t as easy as it seemed. You’re practically in a new environment and you knew no one. Everyone that you passed by seemed like they knew someone. That made you a bit sad and frustrated.

Your roommate was nice to you, that was a plus. She would always invite you to parties on school night, which you kindly decline, saying you had a paper to write or a book to read, which is true 90% of the time. Other 10% is that it’s not really your scene. You’d rather stay in than go out, and you don’t see a problem with that. You’d also get a chance to call your family almost every night, and you can admit you’re getting homesick.

“Love, you need to go out! Stop trapping yourself in that dorm of yours or you might go crazy.”

“I-It’s hard, Mum. You know how I am.” You frown to yourself as you hear your mother sigh on the phone.

“I sure do, but how will you ever get out of that shell if you don’t try?”

You were sat outside of a cafe that’s close to the dorms. Your last class had cancelled and so you decided to take advantage of the nice weather London offered only a few times of the year. As you scanned over your notes and back to your laptop, someone cleared their throat causing you to cut your focus.

“Uh, hi. I don’t want to be that person, but seeing as there are no seats available inside and your table seems like the only one with a chair empty. D-do you mind if I sit here?” The stranger smiled softly. He was very attractive, you have to admit. He had a bit of a softness to him that you liked. This also could be a very great opportunity to practice your social skills, and who knows, maybe you’ll befriend this guy.

You nod. “Sure!” You say too excitedly for your liking. “I-I mean, yeah, okay, uh, yeah.” You say in a more lower tone. He chuckles a bit at your fumble of words and takes a seat. You quickly move your folders and book out of the way and set them on your lap.

“I’m Harry, by the way.” Harry reaches out his hands, which you gladly take, proceeding to tell him your name and that it’s a pleasure meeting him. In which, he smiles.

“What are you studying for anyway?” Harry asks.

“Oh, uh, basically reading stuff about American literature. Proper boring if I’m being honest.” You say shyly.

“Yeah, I remember taking American literature. Wasn’t my go to, that’s for sure.”

“What about you? What are you studying?”

“Actually, I’m not in school anymore. I graduated about 2 and half years ago.” Harry says and you’re shocked. He looks about your age and he looks insanely good.

“What? What are you blushing about?” You hadn’t even realized you were blushing, making you blush even more out of embarrassment. “C’mon, tell me.” He says as he flashes his beautiful, dimpled smile at you.

“Uh, it’s embarrassing.” You put your head down, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Alright, I won’t push ya to it.” He smirks.

You simply went to the cafe to utilize the extra free time you had for studying and writing your paper, but that time was used talking to Harry and getting to know him, and vice versa. You’ve come to find out that he’s a sweet and down to earth person. He doesn’t push or nag you about personal things that people love to talk to strangers about, and you appreciate that.

Instead, you both talk about school and work, which you’ve come to find out that he works in a big marketing business. And you realized that he’s kind of perfect for that job. He loves to talk and talks with enthusiasm, which you think he’s fit for. You talk about hobbies: he loves to write and read on the side, and he loves to sing and play the guitar. The taste in music and movies: he loves the oldies. Anything from Fleetwood Mac, The Rolling Stones, Donny Hathaway, Van Morrison, you name it. He’s also a sucker for a good romcom.

You realized that it was getting rather late, and as you were collecting your stuff, you were getting a bit sad having to leave and stop talking to him.

“It was nice talking to you.” Harry says as you stand up and give him a smile

“You too, Harry.”

“I’ll see you when I see you.”

It was two months later when you saw Harry again. You decided to take a stroll in the park, thankful for the sunny weather again. Your earphones are in as you listen to a recent podcast you found interesting on the science of being transgender. It was something your friend sent you and it’s always great to be educated.

You take in the scenery in front of you with your hands in your cardigan pocket as you walk on the gravel cement. You people watch as you watch parents play with their kids and people jogging passed you. And a specific person you think looks very familiar.

A person looking very familiar walking towards you.

You take your headphone out. “Uh, hi Harry.”

He looks at you with bright eyes and gives you a big smile. “Oh my god, hi! How are you?” He gives you a hug, which you gladly to hug him back.

“I’m good, I’m good. Just here for a walk. How’ve you been?”

“Likewise, but I’ve been okay. To be honest, I was kind of regretting not asking for your number after we met.” He says shyly.

You blush. “Oh, wow. Uh, did you still want it?”

“I’d love to have it.” You gladly exchange numbers and proceed walking together in the park.

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” You look at him with shocked eyes.

“Y-you want to go on a date? With me?” You say nervously.

“Just said that, didn’t I?” He chuckles.

“Okay. Yeah, sure. I’d love to.” He smiles.

“Great.”

You’d thrown clothes and put them back on the hangers until you found the perfect outfit to wear. You wore a simple black, two piece skirt outfit with a chunky cardigan, and a bit of a heel. Makeup was always minimal, sticking to only mascara and eyebrow gel, knowing full well you don’t know how to do a full face.

“You look amazing tonight. I mean you look great all the time, but you really do look great.” Harry says as he’s sitting across you with a menu in his hands.

“Thank you, Harry. You look great too.” He smiles and looks back down at the menu as you do too.

“This place is quite the scene.” You say.

“I wanted it to be perfect for you.”

“You could’ve taken me anywhere and I would’ve loved it.”

You notice some people look at you in the most rude way possible, knowing you don’t fit into the scene. Harry notices the way people look at you, and you noticing how they look at you both.

“Hey.” You’re quick to bring your attention back to him and turn your head to look at him. “Don’t worry about them, okay? It’s just you and me tonight.” You nod your head and smile at him. It’s just the two of you.

After a successful first date, you’re giddy about him. I mean, who wouldn’t after? You’ve come to find out he’s a bit older than you. As you’re only 20, you find out he’s 25, working for a big marketing company. You’re slightly intimidated by that, but he reassures you it’s just fine, and he likes you for you, not your age.

After the second date, you feel as if you’re falling for him. It’s quite early on, but you’ve never experienced this before and with texting him almost every second of the day, you can’t help it. At the end of the date, he drops you off at your dorm.

Harry on the other hand, has quite fallen for you too. People are always so skeptical about ages, but he simply doesn’t care. That’s just something people are going to throw at you both if you proceed to date. It’s been quite a while since he’s done the whole dating thing, and he thinks it seems so right with you. Even though it’s only the second date.

“I had a lovely time tonight. Always do when I’m with you.” He says as holds your hand and doesn’t let go, as you’re both standing in front of your door.

“Me too. Thank you for tonight.” He brings your hand up to his mouth and kisses it. You smile, which then leads to him smiling. He pulls you in for a hug and you hug him tightly, not wanting the night to end. Harry pulls back and brushes the hairs out of your face and behind your ear.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispers as he looks at your lips. You’re frozen, shocked by his request.

“I-okay. I, uhm, I’ve never actually kissed someone before.” He looks you in the eye, finding some sort of lie in them, but finds that you’re actually telling the truth.

“No worries. I’ll just kiss you here,” he kisses you on the forehead. “And here.” He moves down to your nose. “And here.” He shifts to your left cheek. “And another one right here.” He proceeds over to the other cheek. Harry pulls away and look at your with glimmering eyes; the one that you’ve fallen for and it makes your heart burst. And the next thing you know, you’re pulling his arm and your lips connect with his. The kiss lasts for about 7 seconds. You’re both just enjoying the feel of each other with the most romantic gesture. You let go and open your eyes, seeing as he’s slowly opening his. He gives you a smile as he caresses your cheek.

“I’ve been waiting for that.”

Just a week after, you and Harry went on your third date to the local fair. It was by far your favorite date as you ate kettle corn, funnel cakes, and anything greasy you can imagine. You both played games and went on rides. After you won the round of shooting the water into the little hole, he saw the bright look on your face and how you lit up when you’re happy, so he couldn’t help but ask.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” You stopped jumping and looked at him.

“Did you just ask what I think you asked?”

“I sure did.”

“You want to be my boyfriend?” He nods happily. “And you want me to be your girlfriend?” He nods again.

“I really like you. I want to be able to call you my girlfriend. So...”

“Yes! Yes, of course!” You throw your arms around him and give him a big hug as he kisses your shoulder.

A few months after you and Harry made it official, you both couldn’t get enough of each other; always finding time to hang out with each other and go on dates. You’ve learned so much about him and he, you. It was pure bliss and happiness. You’ve never been so happy before. Naturally, your parents and Isabel asked you questions about him. Of course, mentioning the obviously that he was a bit older, but you shook it off because Harry is overall such a gentleman.

You and Harry were leaning on about a year and two months of being together and you still can’t believe the love he gives you. It’s definitely something you’re still not used to. You truly could not have asked for a better boyfriend.

Harry feels over the moon about you. He would do anything and everything for you without hesitation. Even though you would tell him not to, he doesn’t mind. He loves spoiling you with the love that you deserve. He loves everything about you. From when you blush shyly at the compliments he showers you with to the way you look when he’s deep inside of you, making you feel amazing.

He was kind of on the edge when you told him that you wanted him to make you feel good and finally have sex since it was your first time, but you reassured him that you’d want him and only him to make you feel at bliss.

Harry had invited you to a work party as his company was celebrating 40 years. To say the least, you were nervous. You had to make a good impression on his co-workers and his boss. He’s a big name of the company and has brought many successes over the years of being there, so you have to make yourself worthy of the big shot that he is.

The venue was rather nice. It was decorated with pretty light on the ceiling and dim lights with music playing in the background. People dressed amazingly as they held their drinks in one hand and greeting people with the other.

“Ah, Harry! There you are, was waiting for you to show up.” A man with black and gray hair, and beard greeted Harry.

“I’ve made it and I’ve brought the girlfriend. Daniel, meet my girlfriend.” Daniel put his hand out. “This is my boss.” You gladly shake his hand.

“Harry’s good at what he does. Keep him on his feet, will ya?” You chuckle.

“Will do. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Well, gotta go say hi to more people and make my rounds. Harry, lets have a drink later. And the missus, it was a pleasure.” You and Harry smile and bid him a ‘see you later.’

An hour or two into the party, you encouraged Harry to go and mingle, saying you didn’t mind sitting here. He gives you a kiss, saying he promised he would be back in 30, which you tell him to take his time.

“So Harry, how did you meet your girl?” Daniel asks as he takes a sip from his drink.

“We met outside of a cafe and I asked if I could sit with her. Then I saw her again two months later, and asked her out on a date.” He smiles, thinking back at the memory and start of your relationship.

“Ahh. That’s nice. Cliche, but nice. What does she do if you don’t mind me asking?”

“No, not at all. She’s actually still in school. This is her last year before she starts working, but she does intern at the publishing house.”

“Oh. She’s still in school?” Hart nods. “How old is she anyways?”

“S-She’s 21. Why?” Harry asks skeptically.

“It’s just that—don’t you think she’s a little young for you?” Daniel raises his eyebrows.

“Young? She’s only like 5 years younger than me.” Harry tries to stay calm as he explains, even though he knows he doesn’t have to.

“I’m just saying. What will happen if you’re what, 30? What will happen if you want to settle down and she doesn’t? She’d be at the peak of her life! She wouldn’t want to settle right away anyways. You’re obviously not getting any younger. All I’m saying is that: do you see a future with her and if she’s even worth it to wait for?”

The last part seemed like it was shade thrown at you. Harry is a very patient man. It takes a lot for him to get mad—furious. He clenches his fist, trying to maintain an appropriate attitude. He could say a whole lot to his boss right now, but again, that’s his boss. So Harry just stays quiet, hoping you’re having a better time than he is.

And you’re not.

During that time Harry was talking to Daniel, you were glad Harry was mingling at his work party while taking sips of his drink. Two ladies took a seat right next to you and you turn to look at them.

“H-Hello.” You say nervously. One of the girls raised her eyebrows.

“Are you Harry’s girlfriend?” The other asked.

“Yeah, I am.” You give them a soft smile.

“Tragic.” She replied with a low tone, but you heard her clear.

“I-I’m sorry?”

“I said that’s tragic.” She says in a more loud and clear voice. You give them a confused look. “It’s only tragic because he could do so much better than you.” She looks you up and down, and your face drops and you wish Harry could come over and interrupt. But they’re not wrong, are they? These two girls are drop, dead gorgeous as they wear low cut dresses that hug their body making them look even more sexier—attractive. And then there’s you.

You thought you had cleaned yourself up pretty well. You decided to step it up in the makeup department and tried out some basic eyeshadow. You still stuck with mascara and eyebrow gel, and finished it with a gloss. Your dress is a white halter dress that goes just above your knees as it shows your back, and flows out slightly. Your shoes are 2 to 3 inches of nude heels.

“And aren’t you a little too young to be in this place? You’re, what, 18?”

“I’m actually 21.” You say softly.

“Aww, that’s cute! Barely pass the drinking age in the states. Very cute.” They say sarcastically. You frown, trying not to cry. This is part of the reason you hated social events or parties. People can say some really rude shit and you’re there to just take it. You’ve never been a fighter and you don’t want to be, so you’re sat there, not trying to make a scene.

“Ladies.” Harry thankfully arrives just before you’re about to burst into tears. “How are you doing? Jenna, Mila?”

“We’re doing great, Harry!” Their voice suddenly changing. “We’re just having a chat with you’re lovely girlfriend.” They look at you in an almost threatening way, but back at Harry with dreamy eyes.

“Lovely, isn’t she? Beautiful thing, she is.” He looks at you with admiration and love, and it’s comforting—familiar.

“The loveliest.” They say in a fake tone.

“Well, we’re just about ready to head out. Hope you both enjoy the rest of your evening.” Your mine blocks out whatever they had said and whatever had happened from the time you left the party to the time you arrived at Harry’s.

“Did you enjoy the party?” Harry asks as he turns over to you in the bed. You turn to face him and only give him a nod, not trusting your voice.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Do you ever regret being with me?” Harry looks at you with shock.

“Why would I ever regret being with you?”

“I don’t know. I’m younger than you. You’re a handsome, sweet, and charming man, and could possibly be with anyone. I’m just me.” You say with a sad tone.

“If you need to know, no. No I don’t regret being with you. I will never regret being with you.” You only nod.

“Jenna and Mila brought this up didn’t they? I was watching you from the bar, and noticed that your face dropped and that you were about to cry while they were talking to you. So I had to get my love out of there.”

You sigh. “I appreciate it, Harry. But yeah, I just don’t want you to miss out on opportunities, you know? I don’t want you to regret being with me for a more classy and experienced person. I understand-“

“Stop. Please. Look, I don’t want you to ever think that, okay? Who said I was missing out on opportunities anyways? I love experiencing new things with you. You mean the world to me and I love you so much. You’re the first person to make me feel something. I don’t give a fuck what they think. You’re only five years younger than me so I don’t see what the problem is. All that matters is you and me, got it?” That made you feel extremely better. The reassurance he made you feel is 10x more relaxing.

“Thank you, Harry. I love you too.” You give him a kiss.

“You know, Daniel said almost the same thing.” You raise your eyebrows. “Said that if you’re even worth the wait if I wanna get married or some shit like that.” You stay silent, not knowing what to say. I mean Daniel was somewhat right. If I don’t want to get married right now and Harry does, it’s only natural it won’t work out. “That doesn’t matter what he says anyways.”

“Why?”

“Because love, I would wait for you until you’re ready. Sure I want to get married and have kids with you, but I know you’re not in a rush to do so, and I’m not either anyways. And if you don’t want to get married then fuck it! We don’t have to put an official title of Husband and Wife on us. I don’t care as long as I’m with you.”

“Harry, that’s so sweet. And just to clarify, I want to marry you and luckily have kids with you too.” Harry blushes at your words.

“I know we’ve only been together for a little over a year, but when I know, I know. And all I know is that I want that future with you. It’s just you and me.”

“And I know too.”

“Good.” He pecks your nose.

“Do you remember when we met; how you caught me blushing and I turned all red?” Harry chuckles.

“Yeah, I do. Still don’t know why you were so embarrassed.”

“You had just told me that you’ve graduated about 3 years from that time and I remember thinking how insanely attractive you look because I thought you were my age.” Harry lets out a loud laugh. “Hey! It’s not funny!”

“You know what? Fuck age! If my girl thinks I look good then that’s all that matters.”

feel free to send in a request!

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles one shot #harry styles ff #1dff #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #older!harry #harry styles au #older writings

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arlakos · 4 years

Text

Things that I feel would have made Miraculous Ladybug a better show.

A Comprehensive Guide to what I would fix with Miraculous Ladybug, with 10 different Ideas.

WARNING: long post for mobile users

1. Combine the Riposte and Captain Hardrock episodes to introduce Luka and Kagami and have it be strictly a civilian episode.

After 3 seasons of Miraculous, I can safely say that I don’t care much about the whole lovesquare stuff, and to be frank I hate the fact that Luka and Kagami were added into the show just to be alternate love interests for the heroes.

I mean, Kagami gets a pass because she has a unique personality, but Luka is literally just every guitar teen ever, and is more one dimensional than season 1 Chloe.

EDIT: It really doesn’t help that because of these new ships, there is even more ship teasing that before, making the whole romance side of miraculous rather boring and filled to excess with ship teases

HOWEVER, if you really wanted to introduce these characters as alternate love interests, why not do something unique with it and in a way that won’t go over so long?

My idea is as follows

1. Have Adrien meet Kagami at fencing and Marinette meeting Luka with Kitty section.

2. Have the two main characters interact with these new love interests and learn more about them.

3. NOT have Hawkmoth come and akumatise anyone, because akuma’s shouldn’t be the only reason and/or way to progress the show or make it interesting.

4. Have the new single episode be about Adrien and Marinette falling for new people.

That way, the show can introduce the idea of new love interests, change the episode format so a bit so that its not so linear, and save an episode slot for a episode idea more interesting... Or perhaps instead restrict the whole alternate romance subplot to a few episodes as part of a small storyline and have the whole romantic subplot be done with instead of extending it is like with the Lovesquare over 2 seasons

EDIT: I don’t particularly like the ship, but the idea I’m proposing could be a good way to shorten it into a more coherent and more interesting plot, instead of adding another ship tease into the series that ends up tearing the fandom apart.

2. Have Season 3 be about Ladybug and Cat Noir teaching the 3 new heroes how to fight.

Season 3 is trash. There I said it. And its not just the episodes themselves are the problem. The whole season and the premises it tries to introduce are garbage as well.

Lets start with Lila.

Based off of the Chameleon episode, it was believed that Lila would be a more prominent character in the show, basically being a villain for both Marinette and her alter Ego. Despite that, her actual effect on the season was about as minimal as you could get, with her presence only being restricted to a few episodes (with these episodes more relying on everyone else being an idiot for them to work, Chameleon included). It also didn’t help that the show still stuck to the single episode format, meaning Chamelon, which was meant to be an episode that would set up a ‘war’ between Marinette and Lila was immediatly suceeded by episodes such as Gamer 2.0 and Animaestro, both of which did not feature Lila at all and took the tension out of the first episode (unfortunately not the salt though, rip Miraculous Fanfics)

Also, the Finale robbed Lila of her spotlight. Imagine being presented as the villain of season 3 only for you to be replace with a knockoff Queen Wasp 😭.

Season 3 also made the mistake of introducing new heroes into the show.

Now, I’m of the opinion that the new heroes introduce in season 3 were a mistake, because not only did the new heroes make the idea of getting a miraculous not so special anymore (with so many new heroes), but some of the designs, powers and/or Miraculous tools were not really that great. I mean, Viperion looks cool and all, but his tool is a goddamn lyre. At least a yoyo can be used to tie up people. And do not get me started on Pegasus.

Also, with all the new heroes introduced, it meant that the heroes from season 2 barely got any screentime. Chloe was made into a villain by the end of Season 3, while Rena Rouge got to appear once and my boi Caracace got only one episode out of the ENTIRE SEASON to appear.

But I do have a solution to at least on of these problems.

What if, in season 3, that season was all about Ladybug and Cat Noir teaching Rena, Carapace and Queenie how to actually be heroes and form a team of 5? It would help bring some new dynamics into the whole hero stuff, and we could potentially see more of the stuff that we had only seen in heroes day.

(Also, rewrite heroes day so that the 3 heroes don’t immediatly get akumatized and actually help Ladybug and Cat Noir. God, they got ripped off for all the hype build-up.)

It could allow for new stuff in season 3 such as:

More hero dynamics

Seeing Alya, Nino and Chloe adapt to daily heroics

Ladybug (and Chat) learning how to be leaders and mentors, which would then make the plotline about Fu passing on his title to Marinette make more sense and justified, since they didn’t do that in season 3 at all.

A more realised storyline about Chloe’s identity being public knowledge that goes on for more than two episodes

Also it means we could get rid of Lila...just saying.

3. Have Miss Bustier work to rehabilitate Chloe and have that be the starting point of Chloe’s redemption.

In recent months, there has been a lot of salt aimed at Miss Bustier, and to be frank I don’t think she deserves it. Her characterisation is honestly really heartwarming when it comes to the idea of teachers caring for their students, but her character can often be forgotten by writers, especially when they desire a story to tell. This can be seen as early as Origins, where she ignores Chloe outright bullying Marinette so the latter can stand up to her later on, but notices Ivan being angry at Kim so Ivan becomes Stoneheart. I personally think her character is lovely, and certain fanfic stories like the Miraculous World of Caline Bustier show that good side of her that so many salt fics fail to forget or intentionally ommit because of one bad episode where Marinette cries (chameleon).

However I do think that Chloe gets way out of hand in the show, and I do feel that despite her best intentions, Bustier not doing anything about Chloe for two seasons seems a bit...off putting.

But what if she did do something about it?

I think that the best way for Ms Bustier to act more like a teacher without breaking her ‘kind teacher’ status would honestly be to actually work on rehabilitating Chloe, either by working with her after school with exercises or recommending her to a psychiatrist for help. I know this can come off as dark for miraculous, but Chloe has already shown that her life beforehand has been a bit rough (even though it doesn’t nullify how she has acted in season 1), so it would make sense that Chloe would need some help with her behavoir/attitude. It would be a great way for Bustier to actually do something about Chloe’s behavoir, without compromising her kind personality. She is kind enough to care about Chloe being better, but assertive enough to do something about it.

Plus, for those who like Chloe, it could be a great way to redeem her properly without going back and forth between a ‘likable person but also bitch’ and ‘an asshole bitch with no redeeming qualities’ like in season 3. Plus it would then make Chloe becoming Queen Bee more fair instead of making it seem as if she doesn’t deserve to be a hero.

Also it would make those people who make salt posts about Bustier frick off. Leave her alone she’s a good character

4. Not having everyone immediately liking Ladybug/Marinette but not hating her either.

Ok, this is where I get really heretical with this post, especially because of how much of the fandom likes Marinette, but I feel that having every single character in the show immediately liking Marinette is a bit too much, at least for me. This sounds biased, but it causes problems for the show for two main reasons.

Marinette is kinda at this point a part-Mary Sue, at least when it comes to the idea that everyone in the world seems to like Marinette and the only ones who don’t are irredeemable pieces of trash who are probably villains (Lila and Chloe being Astruc’s favorite examples :/ ).

Marinette often has everyone agreeing with her on everything (when Lila isn’t there) and majority of the time she goes unnopossed with anything that she does, to the point where even a fireman doesn’t call the cops when he see’s her outright breaking into Adrien’s home (in Oni-Chan).

It would be more interesting (or at least more realistic given the setting) if most characters aside from a few important ones were mostly indifferent towards Marinette, aside from ones such as Alya, Nino, Adrien and Nathaniel for obvious reasons. I’m not saying they have to hate her, but it would be cooler if the rest of the class were more individuals with their own lives and focus, rather that characters with a trope who just revolve around Marinettes world.

Also those girl squad moments in Miraculous seem kinda forced, mainly because Alix, Mylene, Rose and Juleka don’t seem like the type to hang with Marinette unless the episode calls for it like in Gigantitan and Reflekdoll.

Now, lets discuss Ladybug.

To keep it simple, I think that it would make more sense if people weren’t immediately trusting of Ladybug at first, and I feel that as seasons go on, it would make sense that over time, people would eventually start to lose trust in her or start to feel angry at her for her inability to stop Hawkmoth permanently.

I mean, if you take episodes such as Syren (where said villain floods a whole city), it is likely that some people got hurt (or worse) and people would eventually start to worry that Ladybug could fail or that her Miraculous Ladybug could stop working.

It would wouldn’t help that Hawkmoth is mostly focused on getting Ladybug and Cat Noirs Miraculous, and people would start to realize that and would start to get the idea that if Ladybug and Cat Noir gave up their Miraculous, Hawkmoth would leave them alone.

Now, don’t get the wrong idea, I don’t think that this has to be a permanent thing that constantly worries the heroes like in other shows such as Ben 10, but it would be an interesting storyline for Miraculous if some people in Paris would start to get fed up Paris being used as a battleground for heroes and villains.

Also, it would make sense that the class likes Ladybug at least, especially for saving them in season 1.

EDIT: Changed my opinion, read my reblog

5. Have Adrien fall in love with Marinette and Ladybug fall in love with Chat - AKA I’m tired of the lovesquare.

I’m gonna be frank with you, I’m a little biased on this one, mainly because I can’t stand the lovesquare stuff. Its annyoing because people fight over which ship they like, and tbh it has gone on for way too long.

It also doesn’t help that it ruins the main characters. Marinette suffers because she can act like a creepy stalker at times, memorizing his schedule and even stealing his phone, yet can’t even speak to him properly (or more importantly like an actual friend) in a majority of episodes, making her look both creepy and/or idiotic.

Chat Noir also suffers, but even more so due to double standards by the fandom. I don’t think Chat is a sexual harasser like SOME might want to thing (looks at the salty side of fandom), but I do think he flirts WAY the fuck too much, to the point where it wastes most of his character. At least him making more jokes would be better than flirting.

So, my idea is to get rid of all that.

Let Marinette actually talk to Adrien, learn about him, care about him like he’s an actual human being, and actually be a good friend for once rather than being friends through Nino and Alya. Let Marinette actually be kind to Adrien and have her actions make Adrien realize that he likes her more than a friend, rather than Plagg telling him something he wants to deny.

And on the reverse note, Have Chat stop flirting and be more caring. I want Chat to treat Ladybug like she’s the greatest thing in his world, and not by flirting with her during akuma fights, but by checking how she is daily, wanting to spend time with her on lonely nights to make her feel better, and overall being more a friendly (yet lovestruck) partner than the flirty sidekick that Astruc wants to relegate him as. By all means, let him pun and make jokes during fights, that’s part of his charm, but I want Ladybug to fall in love with a Chat Noir that stands by her side, cares about her to the point of overkill and makes her always feel better no matter how down she feels.

And THAT’S what the lovesquare should be about, a story about two characters falling in love with two amazing people, not realizing they are one an the same.

I want Adrien to fall in love with the extrodinary Ladybug who changed his world forever and the simple but amazing Marinette who loves him for who he is, and not what he is. I want Marinette to fall for the sunshine Adrien that is too pure for this world and made her smile on a rainy day, but also for the caring Chat Noir that has always stood by her side no matter how dark the situation has gotten when fighting Hawkmoth, and has always cared about her to the point where cannot help but love him for who he is, puns, humor, love and all.

That’s what I think would make good romance in Miraculous Ladybug

Also Adrien doesn’t deserve that kinda salt btw. FIGHT ME.

6. Have Akuma battles actually cause an impact on the show.

Akuma’s are both a curse and a blessing for Miraculous Ladybug. A blessing because the powers can be unique and the designs are pretty to look at (minus a few), but a curse because the way they are written is responsible for Miraculous Ladybug’s stagnation and also how character issues are resolved.

Someone gets sad because a personal problem, they get akumatised, the return back to normal thanks to Ladybug, and their personal problem is suddenly resolved. Rinse and Repeat. All of the damage caused by the akumas is fixed, and no one seems to be affected by the akumas long term.

So...why not change the last bit?

I think that the akumas should do more than just trash Paris and not by being more evil, but by also have an effect on people mentally, similar to how people write about Chat Blanc causing Marinette to have PTSD. I don’t think the akumas have to be more threatening then they are, but I do wish that certain akuma’s or even the experience of being akumatized would affect certain characters more than what is shown.

Like say, how about an idea where Style Queen suddenly trying to turn Chloe into a statue, and not caring for the fact that she is her daughter, causing Chloe to straight up hate her now that her true colors are shown? Or perhaps an episode where people get hurt due to rubble from a battle, and one of the main characters sees someone greviously hurt despite them being fixed after the battle? These are just some ideas, but as is, akumas feel somewhat of a let down, because despite their cool designs, they are just one-shot glorified henchmen of Hawkmoth who are essentially forgotten after a single episode.

EDIT: I personally got some asks saying that giving characters PTSD would be a bad thing for a kids show, so Im just gonna clarify: I dont think that the characters should get PTSD, but I do think akuma battles should matter, given that some akuma backstories are made from more personal problems but are treated as with less seriousness than expected and often times fixed instantly by the end of the episode.

7. Give Luka a personality

Luka is the personification of every soft spoken teen music player ever and has the personality of the song Wonderwall. Next.

8. Have Alya not try to Figure out Ladybugs identity.

For someone who has read hero comic books, Alya should realise that trying to expose someone’s public identity is a VERY BAD IDEA.

9. Have Ladybug and Chat Noir unlock new powers on their own, rather than having to rely on Gimicky power up potions.

I’m gonna be frank, the power up potions are lame as heck. They are essentially glorified costume changes that add new stuff onto the suits, which doesn’t sound that bad until you realise that Miraculous Wielders are capable of Changing thier costume designs anytime they want, meaning more likely than not they could probably just change costumes without the potions. Even the Aqua form is pretty lame once you realise that Ladybug and Cat Noir’s tools function like water breathing devices.

Instead, I think it would be cool that as the heroes wear their miraculouses, they star to bond with them as they get close to their kwamis, allowing them to unlock new abilities over time, similar to how learning the basics of martial arts follows into more advanced styles. It would also make the miraculouses feel more magical and add more depth into them, as it turns the miraculous from magical jewellery that give powers, into a magical experience that grows and changes as the wielder and Kwami bond together on a spiritual and magical level.

It would also help to offer contrast between the heroes and Hawkmoth, because while the latter doesn’t have a timer for his powers and is stronger (for the time being), the heroes bond with their kwami’s and unlock new abilities in the process, while poor Gabe is stuck with his base powers due to forcing Nooroo against his will, only able to unlock more abilities through cheating (aka Scarlet Moth).

10. Change Hawkmoth’s story

Hawkmoth is about as bland of a villain as you can get when it comes to villainy. Even with the whole sob story of Gabe’s wife in a coma and her trying to bring him back, Hawkmoth himself has always been all over the place, especially when the writers try to bring the two sides of the character together. They want him to be unwilling to hurt Adrien in one episode, but then for him to be a dangerous and despicable villain in Chat Blanc. It gets really annoying, as they both want him to be a sympathetic villain, but also a villain who isnt afraid to be pure evil as well.

Also Mayura doesn’t help much with the story either. Before she was revealed, people were speculating that she was a new person would be the actual big bad of the show, and it was rumored that she would be Hawkmoth’s boss, and also the possible reason for Hawkmoth getting the Butterfly Miraculous, which could have been used to expand upon Hawkmoth’s character, and potentially have some sympathy given to him if the writers wanted to go that path, with Mayura being the new evil of the show. Unfortunatlely, it turned out Mayura was Nathalie all along, essentially being a glorified henchman for Hawkmoth, and not only that, but her powers were a copy and Paste of Hawkmoths own abilities (Villain infects an object, something something magic, Ladybug needs to destroy an object and purify it in order to return it to normal)

They could have at least given the job of purifying feathers to Chat, would have made him more essential in season 3 if Mayura was actually used more.

Hawkmoth’s character has stagnated, and personally, I think he needs a rewrite.

Some ideas that I have for Hawkmoth that could make him a better character better are:

Have Mayura be the actual big bad of the show (and a completely different character) and have Hawkmoth be her (somewhat unwilling) lackey. She could also be written to be crueler than Hawkmoth, and could show how Hawkmoth is a more sympathetic character by having him only focused on his son like in Gorizilla, while Mayura’s the one more likely to pull a Chat Blanc situation and absolutely torture the poor cat into being an akuma. Also, it would still allow for those Nathalie/Gabriel moments without ruining them with character changes.

Have the Butterfly Miraculous be corrupted with dark magic (thus allowing Hawkmoth to make possesed villains), but as a side effect make him more crazy, causing him to go from the kindness we see in Gorizilla to the ruthlessness seen in Chat Blanc. (On a a side note, the idea of the Butterfly Miraculous being corrupted would make more sense, given that it can corrupt people into being villains, and would also explain how something that is supposed to be used for good can be used for evil.)

(My Favorite one) Have Gabriel and Hawkmoth being entirely seperate characters. Have Gabe keep the book like in canon and have the Peacock Miraculous be broken, but Hawkmoth is for all intents and purposes a different person who is also a villain. It would allow for Hawkmoth to become an actual villain without the moral restrains made in season 2 with the revelation in The Collector, while also allowing for a story with a nuanced yet kinder Gabriel. Perhaps even a story where Adrien reconnects with his father.

I think that all of these story ideas would really help make Hawkmoth a better character, either by allowing him to be a villain that the writers want him to be like in Chat Blanc, or the sympathetic villain that wants to fix his family.

And that’s about it! Do you agree with this list? Don’t agree? Got more ideas? Reblog this post and write about what you would fix with Miraculous

#Miraculous Ladybug #List of shit i would fix with the show #A comprehensive guide to fix the show we love but also don't love #Sugar all around for these badly written characters #Chloe redemption #or more like a way to make a well written Chloe redemption #No salt on this post!#Adrien or Miss Bustier Salt can go somewhere else!#Miraculous Lovesquare

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guineapigsinwinter · 3 years

Text

Cat among the canines

Chapter two:

I'm thinking I will double this in length wise before posting it to ao3, go over the next or so,or should I just do what I have and time skip to the cannon start time?

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A week after New Year’s day, room 701.

“Ta, ta, tall, I’m the tallest!” Jack’s roommates were all staring at the dancing Labrador, stunned by the level of his excitement at the impromptu measuring results he’d excitedly demanded as soon as he as he saw Collet’s height now nearly matched his.

“Yeah.. he will likely be like this for a few minutes unless something gets his attention” Legoshi quietly said smiling, as he moved to corner of the room to check on the ant farm the others had gotten him for Rexmas, wail gently wagging.

Later that day

It was a small group making a circuit around the snow covered garden, checking which plants appeared to be fine and which had been damaged by the weather over the holidays. Susan, the Highland Cow who was the gardening club’s president was using it as a chance to catch up with Haru, Jack and Miguno.

“And it actually worked! We were able to sneak into Tem’s dorm and watched all three Lord of the Rings films, Bill had never seen them before!” Jack rapidly said, his voice matching his tail wagging.

“Really dude, you inflicted that on him? Star Wars would have been better” Miguno countered, causing a gasp of shock and childish outrage from Jack. “Take that back! Everyone knows Lord of the Rings is better!”.

It had started out when the guys had found Bill had never really read or watched much beyond what his family had approved. He had quickly fallen in love with the various science fiction shows, manga, comics and games Collet, Miguno and Voss had introduced him to. Jack, Legoshi and Durnham preferred fantasy, and the argument and had become a recuring debate in room 701 and the cause of multiple of dog piles.

“Personally, I don’t really like either, historical or modern stuff is better” Haru casually added, causing the two first years to stop and stare at her in horror.

Susan chuckled as the three younger students went into a passionate argument about films, the club president enjoying the energy and childish passion of the younger club members.

Ahh, to be that carefree and not have to worry about final year exams the Highland cow thought, before she gently ended the debate and started explaining everything she knew about the holly bushes they had reached to the young animals.

Meanwhile, in room 701.

Voss sighed as he sat down at his laptop on the table that covered Bill’s bed, the 13 year old relishing in the silence that filled the room. Bill and Collet had dragged Legoshi to their wrestling practice, Miguno and Jack were at gardening club and Durnham at the swim team practice. He loved his dorm mates, he really did, but fennec also loved this rare chance to have peace and quite to himself. Sipping at his mug of milk, he started to work on the next instalment of comic series he was writing for the school paper.

Several hours later, Miguno was the first to get back, Voss’s nose wrinkling when the smell of chlorine filled the room. “Open the window please Miguno, your making the place stink like a pool” he grumbled as he finished up the history report he had moved onto after he finished writing his comic.

“But it’s so good! You should come sometime Voss” Durnham replied, bouncing across the room as his swim bag went sailing into a corner and he opened the window, the crisp winter air flooding into the air.

“Please don’t turn into Jack and Bill, it’s hard enough with them trying to drag me to their respective clubs.” Voss replied, putting away his battered laptop, sensing the incoming storm just from the sheer energy radiated by the coyote.

Durnham’s response was cut off as the room opened and Miguno and Jack came in, the latter wearing a crown of dark plum coloured winter roses.

“Just admit it Miguno, I’m better at Smash then you.” The Labrador said laughing.

“Nuh, I beat you last week remember? You pouted all night afterwards.” The hyena bit back smirking.

“Well I’ll just have to prove it –“ Jack’s response was cut off by the door slamming open, and the last three residents of the dorm coming in. Immediately, Bill excitedly started shouting, hopping from one foot to the other.

“Guys, guys! I learned the best word today, it’s really cool!” the tiger’s ecitetment got stares from the others except for Collot and Legoshi, who just chuckled as they took their coats and shoes off.

Smiling, Jack asked “What is it?”

Taking a breath, Bill then shouted at the top of his voice. “FFFUUUUUCCCKKK!!! FUCK! Fuckity fuck!” giggling at the dumbstruck expression on the Labrador’s face, and the muffled cries of “What are you kid’s doing” from other rooms.

Jack’s horrified expression caused everyone else in the room to laugh as he launched into a rushed dressing down of Bill. “That’s a bad word Bill, you can’t use it! You could get in trouble! Please don’t use it in any essays!”

Bill continued to chant his new favourite word to Jack’s displeasure, which only grew as the other boys started to teasingly shout it out as well.

“C’mon guys! Stop using it, we will get in trouble if you use it! Jack tried to persuade them to stop to no avail. Smirking, Legoshi called out “Hey Jack. Fuck”.

The horror on Jack’s face turned to rage as pounced onto a cackling Bill, knocking him to the ground. “Stop corrupting Legoshi!”.

A month later, at spring Bio week.

This Bio week was weird for Bill. Whereas previously he and the other first year big felines had been showered in affection and attention for “having to put up with those dumb dogs” now he was alone except Tau, the panther he and Legoshi had befriended in the drama club. Anytime they approached any groups, regardless of age or species they would be ignored, and briskly told they were not wanted if they persisted in trying to join in.

It had been several hours now, and Bill was pissed, Tau was trying to calm him down when a shadow loomed over them, they turned. A large tiger who looked similar to Bill, easily at least twice their height with a unpleasant smirk had come up behind them and grabbed Bill.

“C’mon cuz, we got to talk, especially as you got Ma, your own aunt sent to jail you Rex dammed disgrace.” The tiger, Bill’s cousin Sam said, kicking Tau down as he tried to pull Bill out of the teenagers grasp before running off with him.

-----

Legoshi grinned, tail wagging as he entered the drama club room and ran up to Tem who was talking with Elis and Rizz. The bio week session with the guys had been fun, especially as he had actually felt more confident in joining in with the various games with the other canines, and even managed to get the courage to apologise to the other wolf students from hiding from them at the previous events. There was the usual small talk, but Legoshi slowly withdrew from it more and more as his old anxiety started to build up again as more time had passed without any sign of Bill.

“Anyone know where Bill is? He normally doesn’t miss this for anything, and he was fine this morning” he asked, but everyone murmured they hadn’t. Concern growing for his dormmate, the wolf looked around, and spotted Tau uncharacteristically hanging back in the corner, seemingly studying the floor.

Going over to Bill’s friend, he asked him if he knew where he was.

“N,no.. his cousin grabbed him and ran off, I tried to stop him but couldn’t, the teachers said it was just cousins being cousins..” The panther couldn’t lift his head up, the sheer sadness that filled his voice caused Legoshi to go up and hug him.

“We will look for him after this is over, the guys will help, Jack will know what to do, he always figures things out you know.” Legohsi said, trying to convince himself as much as Tau.

----

Gentle guitar music filled the garden, Miguno was practicing next to some rose bushes after having pruned them, enjoying the peace of the garden and focusing on the music. He could get this piece right except for one bit in the middle which no matter how many times he tried, he couldn’t quite get it to work.

Jack was beside him wearing his glasses, reading some textbooks for geography. He had just pulled out a notebook to make notes when a horrible stench hit his nose, causing both him Miguno to gag.

Looking up, they Bill belting it into the gardening shed, the door slamming behind him.

Miguno put down his guitar and ran over to the shed, stopping at the door when he heard Bill sobbing inside.

“Bill? What happened dude, are you okay?” The only response he got was continued sobbing, and after a minute he knocked on the door “Er.. I’m coming in Bill, I just want to help.”

The site and smell the Hyena got when he stepped in shocked him. Bill was curled against a large cupboard, his uniform a mess, bruises and small cuts visible, his head and tail soaked whilst the smell urine came off him.

Horrified, Miguno rushed to Bill, the tiger flinching and trying to bring his sobs under control. “S,s,s,sam.. he .. he said I, I smelled too m, much of dog a, and needed to be made a cat again..” Bill whispered, shivering.

Miguno threw himself at Bill and hugged him hard, causing Bill to freeze “He can’t get you, Rex that is so messed up.” He found himself crying, though just as much from rage as shock at what had been done to his dormmate, but not sure what to do.

Bill gradually uncurled and sat up, not leaving Miguno’s hold, still sniffing. “He.. he held my face and tail down in a toilet and flushed, h, his mates poured buckets of water and ice on me. I tried to fight back but Sam’s 15 and all his mates are so they just beat me down instead. Then said they had to get me smelling of cat again a, and pissed…”

“We’ll get them back somehow” Both of them jumped at Jack’s voice, neither having realised he had entered the shed, Miguno’s guitar on his back. Neither remembered having ever heard his normally bright and warm voice so cold or angry, the 13 year old’s body language radiating protective anger.

Taking a breath and closing his eyes, the lab then smiled weakly but warmly, and knelt before Bill, taking his hand in his “C’mon, let’s get you cleared up, I still have some of that fudge you guys got me for Rexmass and you can have some.”

Miguno texted the others, who met them at the showers after he and Jack had managed to get Bill washed and had brought the Tiger’s pajamas, the Canines forming a protective huddle around their tiger, Legoshi holding his hand, trying to distract Bill with bug facts.

As they got to their dorm, they found Tau nervously standing there, the young panther running up to them when he saw the group approach. “Bill! Are you okay! I’m so sorry I couldn’t stop him, please tell me your okay, is there anything I can do?” He spoke almost too fast to be heard, and other then Legoshi and Bill who knew him the room 701 members warily looked at Tau.

“You tried to stop him though, and you hung with me before even if it got you treated like fuck as well, thank you man.” Bill said, some of his usual confidence having returned to him and pushed out from the protective ring of canines to embrace Tau.

After they had gotten into the room, Tau still being anxious as he was dragged by the group onto Legoshi’s bunk, all of them other then Jack who pushed the battered second hand tv Collet had brought to the room after Christmas in front of it.

Handing a bar of fudge to Bill, who had been wrapped in blankets and currently had Legosh pressed up against him on either side, Voss on his left shoulder and a confused Tau in his lap, Jack sighed.

“I’m guessing if I put my vote to that stupid old dalek film Collet’s cousin sent him that wil help right?” The rest of 701 blinked, Jack never voted for any film Collet suggested, this was.. new.

Bill looked up from the bar of fudge which he had already half devoured, blushing “R, really?”

Grinning like his normal self, turned the tv on and settled next to Legoshi, leaning on the grey wolf. “Yeah, and Legoshi, you know those stink bugs you told me about a couple of years ago?”

“Halyomorpha halys? Sure what about them?” he replied, his tail becoming a blur in response to being asked the question.

#Beastars #au #fanfic #Fluff

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thejollyroger-writer · 4 years

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Heart and Soul - Part 1 - A CS Concert Series Fic

SUMMARY: Private music teacher Killian Jones wakes one morning to the sound of his ten year old neighbor playing the bane of his existence: the recorder. In order to keep his sanity, he offers to teach Henry to play any other instrument -- though partially because it means he gets to spend more time with Henry's mother, Emma Swan.

TW: mentions of alcoholism, abusive parents, backstory that goes a little deeper than necessary

a/n: This fic was inspired by waking up one morning over the summer to hear my neighbor playing the trumpet -- though, thankfully, Sam is a much better musician than a beginner recorder-player. I complained about it on discord, and bam! this story appeared, a joint effort between myself and Meredith (@captainsjedi) . Even though she was unable to help me finish it because of her busy work schedule, her ideas are riddled through the story, not to mention the incredible art she made for it.

Thanks to @csconcertseries and @clockadile, who gave me a reason to finish this story!

-- -- -- -- -- --

There aren’t many unusual things Killian truly hates.

Sure, he hates things like seeing horrific stories on the news, bigots, and people on the road who don’t utilize their turn signals. But those all seemed fairly normal within the realm of things that are passionately disliked.

The one standout thing he despises, however, is the recorder.

His animosity toward the instrument — if one can even call it an instrument — feels like a betrayal to his career at times. He spends his weekdays teaching both children and adults to play music, helping them discover hidden talents and find as much comfort and happiness within the notes as he does. The piano and the guitar are his most popular contenders among students. But he’s also had a bit of experience teaching violin and harmonica, along with one memorable incident with the drum set in his basement that resulted in several complaints from the neighbors.

Recorders? He intentionally keeps a fair distance from those.

If he’s being honest, it’s probably hindered his career a bit over the past few years. Since he moved to Storybrooke and word got out across the small town that he was a music teacher, he’s had countless parents approach him whose children had brought home recorders from school, asking him to give them lessons to improve their playing and put the rest of the family out of their misery.

Killian has always declined. He’ll offer to help by teaching the child another instrument instead, but recorders are out of the question. It’s simply not worth his time, not when there are so many better options available.

Needless to say, he’s less than pleased when he’s woken up before seven one morning by the sound of “Hot Cross Buns” being played on the dreaded instrument.

Something’s not right. He has to be hearing things, isn’t he? The house to the left of his is vacant, and the one to the right is the home of his neighbor and her son, the latter of whom should be resting as much as he can before the beginning of his school year.

What reason would he have to be playing the recorder this early in the— bloody hell, he thinks to himself. Yesterday was the first school day for the year. He should have remembered considering the extensive adjustments he's had to make to his schedule from lessons over the summer.

Killian doesn't know all that much about Henry Swan and his mother. They'd moved into the house next door last fall and the lad had introduced himself not long after. He knows that Henry is about nine or ten years old, is a student at Storybrooke Elementary School, and is a Star Wars fan, judging by the number of printed t-shirts he's seen him wearing when they come across each other arriving to and leaving their respective houses.

He knows just as much, if not even less, about Emma Swan. Only that she works as a sheriff's deputy for her older brother, and favors beanies and leather jackets during the fall and winter months. Killian assumes that she’s single considering she and Henry are the only two occupants of the house, and he’s never seen any visitors there aside from her family.

Which is a relief, because he's also infatuated with her.

Perhaps that’s a bit of a stretch considering the few interactions they’ve shared. Killian is aware that he doesn’t exactly know her well enough for any type of infatuation to really exist. But that doesn’t change the fact that she’s managed to make him feel like an awkward schoolboy who can’t maintain some sense of dignity around a girl.

Their most recent interaction had taken place the Monday prior; he was getting ready for his morning run when Emma returned from what he assumed was the night shift at the sheriff’s station. She’d given him a brief smile and waved as she unlocked her front door. He was so surprised that he tripped and almost fell over his shoelace that he’d forgotten to tie thanks to the unexpected gesture.

(It was hard to tell whether she noticed. He’s hoping the answer is no.)

All of this to say, he likes the Swans. But he’s not sure just how long he’ll be able to tolerate what has to be Henry and his recorder, especially this early in the bloody morning.

Of all the songs in the world, what would bring him to choose “Hot Cross Buns” anyway?

Killian gets his answer a few weeks later. Every afternoon since the end of the school year save one or two (plus a few choice mornings), he’s been treated to the sound of Henry attempting to play a number of different songs, each one a tad more annoying than the last. There’s been “Yankee Doodle,” “Skip to My Lou,” and, oddly enough, “Jingle Bells.”

Something has to be done before Henry tries to learn “Baby Shark.”

He knows he should act his age and learn to embrace his young neighbor’s new hobby. (Or buy a good pair of earplugs.) After all, Henry’s a child, and Killian is glad he’s chosen to dedicate part of his free time to learning music.

But he really needs to choose a different instrument.

It’s what leads him to knock on the Swan’s front door on a Saturday morning a month into the school year. Emma and Henry are both home judging by the yellow Volkswagen Beetle parked in the driveway and the squeaky recorder notes coming from an open window on the second floor.

Emma answers the door. Her blonde hair is tied into a messy knot on the top of her head, and she’s sipping coffee from a bright red mug and wearing running shorts and a faded t-shirt that he’s willing to bet are her pajamas.

He’s never felt more attracted to her. But that’s not the reason he came by.

“Oh, hi, Killian,” she greets him, eyebrows shooting to her hairline. Her reaction makes him consider if he should have given some kind of notice before coming over.

“Good morning, Swan. I’m sorry to bother you this early, but I heard the lad playing and assumed you were both up.”

“Yeah. He’s been at it for a while.” Emma bites her lower lip and glances back and forth from him to the staircase he can just make out behind her. “I’m really sorry if he’s been annoying you with the music recently. I’ve suggested he only play later in the afternoon, especially since I've been trying to have the windows open more often so we don't have to keep running the air conditioning, but he always makes some comment about liking to start his day off with music, and I hate to discourage him when he’s finally found a hobby he’s enjoying.”

Hearing these words causes Killian to feel guilty for being irritated with Henry’s playing, but it also makes the reason he came by seem even more appropriate. “Think nothing of it. I’m quite happy to hear the lad has taken an interest in music. But if you don’t mind my input, lass, I think he could do well with a more versatile instrument that allows him to explore his capabilities even further.” It’s the nicest way he can think of to discourage her son from ever touching a recorder again.

Emma is quiet for a moment, brow furrowing as she contemplates his suggestion. “I don’t think I understand— oh!” A look of realization crosses her face. “That’s right. You’re a musician, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, and he’s great!” The face of Henry Swan pops up behind his mother; he’s already almost as tall as she is. “Hi, Mr. Jones,” he says. Killian smiles at him before he turns back to Emma. “Remember, Mom? He played with some other parents at the last school fundraiser. You were there.”

Killian remembers the night in question vividly. He and a handful of other parents who played music had been asked to perform a selection of songs at Storybrooke Elementary’s annual spring event. (Emma had worn a tight red dress and heels. He was playing the piano and had come close to butchering the opening of their first song when he’d noticed her.)

She remembers the event, too, if the blush on her cheeks is anything to go by. “Yeah, kid, I remember. I just...haven’t had enough caffeine yet this morning.” She takes a long sip from the mug she’s holding as if to prove a point.

“Aye. Well.” Killian pauses, the shift in conversation having made him briefly forget the purpose for his visit. “I was just telling your mother, Henry, that I’m quite glad that you’re interested in playing music. I didn’t know how you felt about possibly trying other instruments as well? Guitar, piano, saxophone, triangle…” he trails off.

He knows the bare minimum about saxophones and doesn’t think Henry would actually want to play the triangle. But he’ll offer to give him harmonica lessons so long as he never touches a recorder again.

Henry considers his suggestion. “I hadn’t really thought about it. Miss Greene just gave us the recorders to take home so we could practice.” (Killian knows of the Miss Greene he is referring to, and resists the urge to message Tink and suggest she not guide her fourth graders in that direction ever again.) “I guess it would be cool to play something else though.” He smiles up at Killian. “Do you think if I tried to play the piano that I could be as good as you someday?”

Killian’s heart swells with pride at the boy’s admiration. Truth be told, he’s been complimented for his talent on numerous occasions by all kinds of people from different walks of life. But something about hearing his abilities praised from a ten year old with excitement in his eyes means more to him than any recognition has in quite some time.

“Perhaps,” he tells Henry. “If you utilize as much practice and dedication as you seem to be doing for that recorder, I’m sure you’ll be a seasoned pianist in no time.”

Killian is so thrilled by the smile that spreads across the lad’s face that he almost misses the wince that crosses his mother’s.

Almost.

“Henry…” she starts, her eyes turned down to the ground, and Killian’s eyes are drawn to her hands wringing in front of her.

“What, mom? Mr. Jones wants to teach me how to play the piano, please let me learn how to play the piano!”

The shadow of a smile crosses over her face, but it doesn’t stay. “It’s not—” she pulls her bottom lip up between her teeth, gently sucking on it for a moment before releasing it and finally raising her eyes to meet Killian’s. “We don’t have a piano, and, well… I don’t think we can afford to get one for him to practice on.”

Henry’s expression, his shoulders, his excitement, physically fall. “But mom, don’t—”

Killian doesn’t even let the boy pose his argument, because he already has the solution — hopefully a solution that works for all three of them. “That’s really not a problem, love,” he says, his smile growing when her bright green eyes start to sparkle with the hope he is giving her son. “As it happens, I just bought a new piano for the studio, so I have one that I’m hoping to get rid of. If you want it, it’s yours.”

It’s not quite the truth: he has his baby grand in his living room, the one that he practices on himself; and he has the two uprights in his studio, one much newer than the other, and as much as he has wanted to replace the older one with an updated model, he hasn’t gotten around to it. Getting rid of one of them wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, and it would certainly clear up some space in the basement, though it would keep some of his students from practicing while he’s in another lesson.

But with the smile that grows across Henry’s face, and Emma’s to match it, the little white lie seems like the worst of his problems. Because, gods above, he has it bad for this woman.

Moving the old upright piano from his basement to the Swan’s living room the following Saturday proves much more difficult than lying to them about it. It’s an adventure that requires his brother, Emma’s brother, and Emma — and not, he doesn't fall to notice, the man who he assumes to be Henry’s father, who shows up with the boy right as they’re struggling to get through the front door.

Killian hates him before he even opens his mouth to speak, seemingly the only one to notice his run-down dark green pick-up truck parked by the curb while he stands in Emma’s entryway, trying to keep the piano from tipping over. The only one to notice him, sitting in the driver’s seat and making no motion to get out, even as Henry jumps down from the passenger seat and begins collecting his soccer gear from the back seat.

“This thing really doesn’t look like it would be this hard to move,” Emma’s brother — David — grunts, trying his hardest to help ease the piano up over Emma’s front step.

“Oh, come on, Nolan,” they all hear from behind them, everyone else finally noticing. “You having a little trouble with that?”

“You know, Cassidy,” David calls out, and Killian notices a vein in his forehead popping out as they try to lift it from the bottom and up the single step. “You could always get your ass over here and be helpful.”

Emma laughs from the other side of the piano. “Yeah, right.”

The guy in the truck laughs louder, turning his head in a way that makes Killian sure that he’s staring at Emma. His words make him even more sure: “I prefer the view from where I am, actually.”

“Asshole,” David says, either a bit louder than he meant or exactly as loud as he meant; Killian has a feeling it’s the second.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Henry asks, dropping his soccer stuff on the porch behind Emma. At least the lad has manners, Killian tells himself, finally guiding the piano into the entryway. He gets them from his mother.

“Just stay out of the way, bud,” David tells him between gritted teeth, the three of them pushing the piano the rest of the way through the door.

“Are you the lucky lad who gets to play this piano?” Liam asks once they’ve all made it into the entryway, Killian tossing one last glare towards Henry’s father pulling away from the curb as he closes the front door. When he turns to Henry, he’s beaming.

“Yep! Killian offered to teach me so he could stop hearing me practice the recorder every morning!”

The bluntness of Henry’s statement pulls a laugh from all of them.

Henry takes to the piano like a fish to water, which doesn't surprise Killian in the least. The lad is bright, Killian has learned that just from talking with him during their time as neighbors, but when he is able to play most of his scales and "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" by their second lesson, he knows he has stumbled upon true talent.

And spending time with his mother certainly doesn't hurt, either.

(The way her laughter carries through the open windows when Henry plays through a song brightens up his days in ways he didn't think was possible anymore, as well, but that's a secret he plans to keep to himself for a while.)

But by the end of September, four o'clock on Tuesday comes by slowly, especially since his and Emma's schedules have apparently shifted so they're never coming or going at the same time, but when she answers his knock on her door, he immediately feels a calm wash over him. Sure, he feels his heart in his throat, and when she smiles at him and takes a step back to let him in the house, he can swear that he has never seen a more beautiful sight in his life.

Shit, he's in deep.

"Hello, love," he says, returning her smile as he steps through the doorway.

"Hey, Killian," she says back, leaning back against the door to push it shut. "I, uh, thought I already said something to you, but Henry's not here right now."

"Oh." He tries not to let his upset show on his face. This time that he spends with Henry Swan and his mother has become the highlight of his week, but since Henry isn't here, he assumes that means he should go home.

But neither of them move.

He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, as it does every time he's found himself in this gorgeous woman's presence, and he counts the moments that pass through his heartbeats: one, two, three, four.

"Where is the lad, if you don't mind me asking?"

She shrugs, still physically blocking him from leaving. "He's with his dad."

"On a Tuesday night?"

She looks down at the floor, holding out her hands out into her line of vision. "We’re going away next weekend with David and Mary Margaret, so it’s to make up for the time he’s missing. But believe me, he would much rather be here with you."

“I’ve only ever heard him say good things about his father.”

“Do you really think that he would tell a stranger about the bad things?” she snaps, and he reels back immediately, regretting ever bringing it up in the first place. Biting the tip of his tongue between his teeth, he tries to push memories of doing the same thing from his mind, tries not to think of all the times he wanted to tell someone other than his brother of the way he was being treated — and he, of course, remembers the embarrassment that came whenever someone tried to bring it up.

Killian thinks back to the only time he’s met Henry’s father, after helping move the piano into their living room, and he begs once again that this man is nothing like Brennan Jones.

“Of course,” he says finally, his voice soft with regret and the memory of his own father’s drunken escapades, and he swallows the memories down like bile.

A beat passes between them, long enough to make Killian sure that he should simply excuse himself and go home, but it’s the last thing he wants to do.

“Do you want to come in for lunch?” she blurts, her eyes quickly flitting away from his when he tries to find them.

“Pardon?” He’s not thrown off by the question, really, as much as he is the sentiment.

“I just — I feel bad that I forgot to tell you that Henry’s with Neal, and now you don’t have anything to do for the next hour, and I was already reheating some of Marg's soup and making sandwiches, so I can — you know what, just… forget it, forget that I asked—”

“I would love to.”

The look on her face when she finally brings her eyes to meet him makes him sure that his acceptance is the last thing she expects.

Her kitchen is much more welcoming than his, bright and colorful with the fitting smell of chicken soup wafting from it. "Grilled cheese alright?" she asks, moving past him towards the fridge after gesturing for him to take a seat at the table.

"Is it ever not?"

The twinkling laugh she lets out actually seems to brighten the kitchen even further, which he would not have thought possible.

"I knew I liked you for a reason."

If the words affect her nearly as much as they do him, she hides it well, moving daintily through the kitchen to gather the rest of the supplies for the sandwiches. He is thankful for the moment of silence that passes between them, noticing for the first time the soft music coming from a small speaker on top of the fridge — he half-recognizes the song, he thinks from Harry Potter? — as he regains his composure, settles the pounding of his heart in his chest.

"What made you start playing music?"

And just like that, the pounding comes back. It's an innocent question, one that he gets asked a lot, and one he usually brushes over with a mention of his mother and her affinity for the piano. But, in the welcoming warmth of Emma Swan’s kitchen, he finds himself wanting to tell her everything, wanting to tell the whole story for the first time in a very long time, all the broken bottles and broken promises and broken wrists, the happy songs and the sad songs and one too many damn funeral marches, the drunken spat with the drunken man that almost made him lose his hand, and the life of sobriety that he swore himself into, exchanging his hatred for one parent with his love for another.

And then he hears the words coming from his mouth, a poisonous story uninvited into this space, into this wonderful woman's life, but it becomes the edited and abridged version as quickly as he can save it: "My father wasn't the nicest man, though he treated my mum the worst of all of us, and in order to find some semblance of peace in the world, she taught herself how to play the piano. And she taught me, too. Tried to teach Liam, but he was never very good at it. So it became a stress relief for me, and I just kept finding new instruments and learning how to play those to keep myself from spiraling, and when it came time for me to figure out my place in the world, music was the obvious answer."

She hums from her place at the stove, slowly stirring the small pot of soup with a wooden spoon. The movement of her nodding head is small, almost enough that Killian wouldn’t have noticed if he wasn’t watching her so intently. Somehow, he can tell that she wants to say something, maybe has a story like his own that she’s trying to piece together into a semblance of something normal, and he doesn’t push her.

“I get that,” she says finally, still not turning her attention away from the stove. He doesn’t mind; he’s not sure that he’s ready for that level of intimacy, for looking at each other while sharing their backstories — quite the jump from the casual neighborly hello’s and short conversations they have shared by this point. “That’s why I run, even though sometimes it makes me want to die. It was the only time I had alone when I was in—younger, and it’s still the only time I can do something and not be drowning in my own thoughts the whole time.”

He wonders about her slip of the tongue, the eloquent way she caught herself — and the way she straightened her back slightly as she corrected herself.

But the last thing he wants is for her to question anything that he said, so he’s certainly not going to say anything, only watch her as she reaches into a cabinet to pull out two bowls, pouring some soup in each of them.

“That’s how I am with the piano. When I sit down in front of it, it’s like my whole brain shuts down and there’s nothing except the music. My mum told me she was the same way when I got a bit older, and it explained why I would wake up in the middle of the night sometimes and hear her downstairs on the old upright the church donated to us. And Liam says the same thing about being behind the wheel of anything.”

When she finally turns towards him, a bowl of soup in each hand and a smile on her face, he knows that he has finally found someone to understand.

And he could not be more ecstatic that it is Emma Swan.

-- Part Two will post as soon as I finish it! --

tags: @let-it-raines @shireness-says @wellhellotragic @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @kmomof4 @teamhook @profdanglaisstuff @thisonesatellite @superchocovian @carpedzem @darkcolinodonorgasm @resident-of-storybrooke -- if you want to be tagged in part two, let me know; if you no longer want to be tagged in my works, just send me a message!

#captain swan #cs fics #ouat #cs ff #ouat ff #cs concert series #music teacher! au #teacher!killian

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