#maybe someday i’ll be more than useful to someone. maybe someday i’ll be more than a resource | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

andypantsx3 · 2 months

Text

𝑤𝘩𝑒𝑛 𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒 : 𝑡𝑜𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑜𝑘𝑖 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑜 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 : 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑖𝑖

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: In order to placate your anxious mother, you agree to return to your hometown to participate in a mating run—knowing full well that betas rarely get chased, never mind betas nearly old enough to age out of the practice. You’ve decided to treat it like a vacation, a chance to visit with your childhood friends, the mating run itself a nice relaxing hike. All in all it’s a solid plan—until alpha Todoroki Shouto, your best friend's little brother,steps in and blows it all to pieces. 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡: omegaverse, no quirks au, alpha!shouto, beta!reader, mating rituals, age gap, best friend’s little brother, older reader, afab reader, some class differences, aged up characters, semi-public sex, slight small town romance vibes, background implied dabihawks for some reason, smut, 18+; mdni! 𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑡ℎ: 4.7k | chapter 2 of 4

Then

The Todoroki house was the most interesting place you had ever been.

At home it was just you and your mom, and most of the time she was working, or recovering from working, but the Todoroki house was packed with children from wall to wall. There was almost never a dull minute—except when Todoroki Enji came home and everyone got stiff and weird—but when he wasn’t around, you found you preferred the Todoroki mansion to the loneliness of your own empty house.

Touya seemed to sense this, and deigned to invite you over often, enough that you found yourself following him home after school at least once a week.

After the first time, you’d been introduced to his other siblings, Fuyumi and Natuso, who were both much nicer than Touya, and notably far more talkative. Shouto was a near-constant too, almost always propped on his mother’s hip when you arrived home, and always eager to be handed off to you, enough that you could tell Touya was annoyed.

“You’re not even related,” he complained, and you hid a smile at his barely-couched jealousy.

“I’m just better than you,” you told him, sticking your tongue out, dodging when he tried to grab it. You’d never had siblings, and you’d been forced to learn quickly that nothing was off-limits to people with younger siblings. Revenge would always be exacted.

Even when Shouto got older, old enough to talk in complete sentences and toddle about on his own, he seemed to prefer your company. You and Touya were almost never left alone to play on your own, Shouto always in the room with you, almost velcroed to your side.

He was on the floor next to you in the living room on one such occasion, Touya absolutely destroying you in Super Mario, when Rei called Touya in from the kitchen.

Touya rolled his eyes, pausing and flinging his controller at your head with the manner of someone who hoped it actually connected. “Don’t restart while I’m gone or I’ll kill you.”

You saluted him as he stomped out, taking a minute to stretch out from where you’d sat hunched over your controller. You bumped Shouto as you did, and he looked up at you from his coloring book, where he was shading in a pair of penguins in hot pink.

“Nice choice,” you told him, and Shouto looked a little bit like he was trying not to preen.

“Izuku in my class says penguins mate for life, like us,” he said, authoritatively.

You blinked, your brain snagging on the like us. Alphas, betas, and omegas could mate for life, and were generally expected to, but that didn’t always quite play out if you didn’t find your life mate. Your mother was a near-hand example, your father having left her while you were still in swaddling clothes, only to pass away a short few years later. They hadn’t been life mates, you’d come to realize recently—though your mother still believed in them. You hoped she’d find hers still, someday.

You thought maybe, however, that you were not going to hold out hope for your own, if it was as tricky as it seemed.

“You know not everyone does, right?” you asked, peering down at Shouto.

Wide, guileless eyes stared back up at you. Shouto had lost a little of his baby fat recently, but absolutely none of his sweetness.

“Who does not?” he demanded, sitting back on his haunches.

You fiddled with the controller in your fingers, wondering suddenly if you should have brought this up with him. “Some people. My parents didn’t,” you said, cautiously.

Shouto’s eyebrows rose a fraction of an inch. “Your parents?”

You shook your head. “Sometimes people don’t find them even after all of the mating runs.”

Shouto did not look pleased with this. His eyes roved over you, pinning on you with a sort of sudden, unnerving intensity. “Sometimes people go on mating runs. And their life mate is not there because they are too young to go yet.”

You blinked, surprised by the specificity of this conclusion. “Sometimes, probably, yeah.”

Shouto’s tiny frown deepened, and he carefully arranged himself up against your side. “You will wait though, right?”

Your hand found its way unthinkingly into his hair, ruffling it. He was a sweet kid. “I mean, people usually go through more than one mating run, right?”

Shouto pressed more insistently into your side. “You will keep going until your life mate is there, though.”

You had an image of yourself, greying and eighty, slowly wobbling on your cane through the preserve. You suppressed a laugh. “I’ll go as I can until I age out, how about that?”

Shouto nodded, satisfied. His crayon resumed on the penguins, fiery pink streaking across the page. “I will be there,” he pronounced definitively.

His decisive tone startled a laugh out of you. You grinned down at him, unable to help the urge to ruffle his hair again. “I’ll stick around until we can run together. Although you better get good at climbing trees.”

Shouto blinked, his mouth pursing in puzzlement. “Trees,” he repeated to himself.

You nodded. “If I’m not an alpha, and I have to hide somewhere, I’m going to find the best tree in the preserve and go up it and not come down until I find my life mate.”

You would not be like your parents. You would not settle, and you would be realistic about your prospects.

Shouto’s eyes tracked across your face once more, like he was committing the statement to memory.

“You’re welcome to come up with me,” you said. You couldn’t imagine Shouto as anything other than an omega like his mom, not with that sweet little face. You didn’t like the idea of some alpha trying to get at him, so it was better he stay safe in your tree with you.

The thought suddenly rankled, and you decided you were done with this discussion. Better not to think of Shouto all grown up and spirited away from everyone until you absolutely had to.

You tapped a finger on Shouto’s coloring book, turning him back to it. “Anyway. Tell me about the other animals in here? Did Izuku tell you about any of these?”

Shouto looked down at the page, his expression shifting seriously. “This is a killer whale,” he said, pointing to a corner of the page he’d colored in with a blob of forest green. “They are related to dolphins. They are the biggest dolphin in the world.”

You nodded, relaxing back on your hands, gesturing for him to go on.

Shouto took his job very seriously, explaining solemnly and in great detail all the animals on the page, the way he sometimes described all his toys to you. You let him go on, finding that you liked listening to Shouto talk—he was rarely so wordy, but he was easy and familiar and funny in how seriously he took everything.

You laid back and listened to him, hoping Touya took a little extra time in the kitchen. Shouto looked pleased to have your attention, and soon enough you found yourself dozing, your head against his little thigh, content with Shouto’s sweet little voice washing over you.

In Shouto’s company, the Todoroki house felt a lot like home.

Now

Your beloved mother woke you in the morning ramming the vacuum into the door of your old bedroom-turned-storage room.

You groaned from your air mattress, your old bed frame sold off already to pay a gas bill. You missed that thing.

“Only a week together and you were out all day yesterday,” your mother said when you emerged from your old room, shooting you a look that immediately made you feel like a teenager again. She was wearing one of your old sweatshirts, that she’d clearly commandeered because she’d missed you.

Your heart squeezed a little at the familiar sight of her, but not enough to curb your morning fussiness.

“Maybe I was out scoping alphas to pounce on during the run,” you said, shuffling towards the kitchen and the promise of coffee.

“You were out with the mayor’s son,” she said, sniffing. A small smile pulled at your mouth—she had pettily refused to call Touya by his name for years.

She’d been thrilled by your friendship with him when you were kids. From the outside, Touya had looked like a beautiful little boy from a well-to-do family. You knew she’d once held out hope for your friendship to turn into something more, to see you settled into a well-off family and taken good care of.

For your part, however, you’d been drawn to Touya but never interested in that way, and you knew Touya felt the same. And things had only gotten more complicated when Touya’s mental health had crumbled like dirt under his father’s heel, and even worse when the Todoroki family fire broke out; Touya’s extensive burns damaged his glands and destroyed any evidence of his secondary gender before he’d even presented. Though, personally, you’d always suspected he was an omega. He was showy, flashy, possessed of that classic omega need for praise and attention—not quite to your tastes.

You thought you probably preferred someone a little more lowkey, someone steady and easy. Definitely not Touya.

There was also the fact that his efforts as of late seemed directed at the one quarter of your friend group with blonde, fluffy hair. Though you knew Touya would rather burn his remaining skin off before admitting it.

Either way, your mother’s hopes of a marriage into the Todoroki family were dashed, along with her opinion of Todoroki Enji when things finally came to head, and she’d never quite forgiven Touya for it.

“Touya says hello,” you answered distractedly, fiddling around with the coffee machine, though of course Touya had said no such thing. “I saw Rei though, and Natsuo and Fuyumi and Shouto. Did you know Shouto is a firefighter now? He’s gotten so big.”

“An alpha?” your mom’s voice floated out from the living room, her eagerness not quite suppressed.

You laughed, though a tiny, strange sort of spark lit up your spine. “Mom, I’m a couple years too old for him. I’m like his grandma.”

“Oh you are not, you dramatic thing,” you heard her sniff.

“Our first date could be at my bingo hall,” you carried on over the hiss of the water boiling, the dribble of coffee into the pot. “And we could get drunk on our prune juice, and I could slide out my dentures waiting for him to kiss me—”

“I’m going to sell you,” your mother said, her vacuum starting up again pointedly. You heard the distinct thump of it being rammed into a couch leg and grinned.

You knew she wanted to see you settled because she loved you, wanted to see you taken care of in all the ways that she hadn’t been. Your father had let her down years before he’d even passed, which you thought should have besmirched any alpha’s good name in your mother’s book. But she was determined to believe in love and life mates despite it all, and you admired her for it. She was a stubborn thing.

You spent the morning helping her do chores, clambering up onto the counters and getting all the places she couldn’t regularly reach, hauling out her trash and googling your way through some low-level repairs. You shared a quick breakfast in between, dodging more questions about the mating run, before returning to cleaning.

You were covered in dust and a thin layer of Lysol by the time you remembered you’d promised to meet Shouto at the fire station for lunch. There was not enough time to change or shower if you wanted to pick something up on the way, and you supposed it was well enough that Shouto did not actually possess the level of interest in you that your mother might have wanted him to.

“Going to see my child bride,” you told your mom on the way out, laughing and dodging a sponge.

The walk to the fire station took the better part of forty-five minutes, including a long interlude spent hemming and hawing over the prepared foods section of the grocery store before you finally settled on cold soba—Shouto’s favorite from when you were younger, if you remembered correctly.

The fire station itself was an older, whitewashed multi-story building, set back from the main road. The garage doors were open in the warming spring air, the bright red of the fire engines clearly visible from blocks away. You must have been visible from blocks away, too, because Shouto stepped out as you turned onto the drive, the dark blue of his stationwear stark against his skin.

Your heart did a strange lurching motion in your chest, and you pointedly did not let your eyes linger on the way his uniform belted in at his hips, highlighting the trimness of his waist and the breadth of his shoulders. Nope.

“Hi Shouto,” you said, holding up your bag of spoils. “You still like soba, right?”

Shouto blinked, his eyelashes fluttering. Long fingers touched the bag, hefting it carefully from your grip. “You remember.”

You grinned up at him. “How could I forget? Especially because I was there when you had it for the first time. You flung some at Touya from your high chair and it ended up on me instead.”

Shouto looked embarrassed, a pink flush spreading prettily across the tops of his high cheekbones. “I do not believe you.”

“Uh huh,” you said.

Shouto’s mouth pulled into what might have been a nonexpression on anyone else, but was most definitely a pout on him. Cute.

“I can reassure you there will be no soba flung today,” he promised, his deep voice earnest. Then he paused. “Touya is not in range.”

A surprised laugh escaped you, and the edge of Shouto’s lips pulled. He looked pleased with himself for having drawn it out of you. He’d always made you laugh, even as a kid—though mostly for how incongruously serious he was as a child, even about the silliest things. But also for how he seemed able to press people’s buttons—Touya’s especially—just by existing.

Shouto gestured you inside, and you studied the firetrucks as you passed them, mostly so you did not watch the way Shouto’s shoulders shifted beneath his shirt.

When he caught your look of curiosity, Shouto led you over to one, opening the door for you to take a look inside. You peered at all the knobs and switches interestedly, leaning into the cab. It looked complex, and yet very familiar. It actually looked a lot like the toy fire truck that once spent a fair amount of time occupying the inside of baby Shouto’s mouth.

You glanced back, opening your mouth to tell Shouto as much, when suddenly two large hands were at your waist, warm and sure. They lifted you right into the driver’s seat like it was absolutely no effort.

You fell into the cab, suddenly winded. You whipped around to stare at Shouto, heart hammering with the casual display of alpha strength, unable to help the wide-eyed look you knew you were giving him. That was—that was—not allowed.

“Am I—can I be—in here?” you garbled out, trying not to make obvious the real reason for your sudden disorientation.

Shouto stepped up onto the wheel plate to lean into the cab beside you, bringing in a puff of that scent like campfire on a cold day. “Yes,” he answered, looking unbothered with how close his face was to yours.

You watched him helplessly, brain fogging with his proximity and his scent. He was very, very pretty up close. He’d grown into what had to be the most beautiful person you’d actually ever seen—his mother’s looks, dialed up to an eleven. The deliberate alpha edge to him should have been at odds with that delicate sensuality—but instead it was like his secondary gender sat on him like a beam of sunlight, highlighting his beauty.

It was totally at conflict with the round, pudgy little thing he’d been when you’d first seen him, the lanky preteen you’d left him as.

He felt so familiar and yet so strangely new. It was disconcerting.

You quickly averted your gaze, making a show of leaning in over all the dials and buttons. Shouto leaned right over your lap, his chest warm against your legs, patiently explaining what each one did in his low, calm tone. The depth of his voice was so shocking, but the tone so similar to what it had been—you could remember him explaining animals in his coloring book to you in much the same level of careful detail once.

Your head spun with the dichotomy. Baby Shouto, a lifetime away, and adult alpha Shouto here in front of you—

You hurriedly pushed the thought of adult alpha Shouto down before you could think too deeply on it. That was off limits.

When you’d had your fill and Shouto had managed to make sure you didn’t accidentally deploy the ladder in the station itself, he helped you down from the cab, his hands hot on your waist.

“I’m old but still spry enough to get myself down, young man,” you told him as he settled you back on the station floor. Your heartbeat felt like it was somewhere around your throat.

“I did not hear your bones creak at least,” Shouto said, startling you into a laugh again.

His mouth twitched as he led you further into the station, giving you a short tour of the gear racks, the office, the laundry room and fitness room stuffed with several of his coworkers, a room that smelled overwhelmingly of clashing alpha scents, none nearly as good as Shouto’s.

A cheery red head waved to you from the leg press, that Shouto introduced as Kirishima, and a blonde alpha greeted him with a towel whipped directly at Shouto’s face. Shouto ducked it with the ease of long practice.

“Oi halfie, who the fuck told you you could eat the cookies I brought in?” the blonde demanded, barely sparing you an acknowledging glace as he reracked a mind-bogglingly enormous set of weights.

Shouto introduced him anyway, in a deliberately bland tone that you immediately recognized as one he deployed to rile up Touya. “This is Bakugou Katsuki.”

“Answer the damn question,” Bakugou said.

Shouto blinked long and slow and absolutely meant to annoy. You hid a smile. “Am I expected to fight fires on an empty stomach,” Shouto said, flatter than a question.

“I’ll fucking show you an empty stomach when I rip out your—”

“You must be Y/N,” Kirishima said loudly from the leg press. You instantly clocked a beta disruption technique at work and smiled at him.

“Nice to meet you,” you said, searching for something to reply with, uniting in his peace-keeping mission. “That’s—an impressive amount of weight.”

“Thanks!” Kirishima said brightly.

Out of the corner of your eye you caught Shouto’s head snapping towards you, and you looked back to find his eyes narrowed on you.

“I can press as much,” Shouto said, his tone insistent. He crowded a little closer to you.

Your eyebrows crept towards your hairline, mystified. “I—that’s—great?”

A tiny frown pulled at Shouto’s mouth, and a disgusted sound issued from Bakugou’s corner of the gym. “You gotta be fucking kidding me. Take this shit right outta here,” Bakugou demanded.

Shouto ignored him, still staring at you. He pressed closer, his shoulders shifting so that he was angled between you and Kirishima, obscuring most of your line of sight.

“I—mean you definitely look like you can press, um, a lot,” you continued, bewildered. “The only pressing I do is, uh, french press.”

The frown evaporated from Shouto’s expression, something suddenly pleased descending over it instead. Beyond him, you thought you could see Kirishima smiling, mouthing you look like you can press a lot to Bakugou, and an answering eye-roll from Bakugou. Oh god. Had you said that?

Your face heated, and you immediately decided an evacuation was in order. “Well thanks for letting us interrupt you. Nice to meet you guys. Shouto—should we—?”

Shouto’s hand found the small of your back, gently guiding you. All thought of Kirishima and Bakugou suddenly evaporated under the feeling of that hot palm, and you barely managed another wave as Shouto shadowed you out of the room. He led you up a flight of stairs to the dorm area, where several more of his coworkers were arrayed, chatting over their own lunches.

Face still sort of warm, you helped Shouto unpack the soba and the various side dishes you’d grabbed. He disappeared further into the kitchen and returned with glasses of water and the appropriate utensils, arraying everything in front of you.

“So this is going to be your first run,” you said conversationally, after you’d taken your first bite of soba. “Got any lucky omega in mind?”

Shouto’s eyes darted up from his chopsticks to your face, grey and blue pinning you. “I have… someone in mind,” he said, after a moment.

A strange twinge made itself known in your chest again. You ignored it, shoving more noodles into your mouth determinedly.

“I am sure you will have absolutely no trouble, but I am happy to give you a quick rundown of all the usual hiding spots anyway,” you said. “Most omegas actually end up not too far into the preserve because they want to be caught, so it should be pretty easy.”

One of Shouto’s brows quirked the tiniest bit. “I have reason to believe I’ll need to follow at least a few miles.”

You felt your own eyebrows lift. Not too many omegas went super far in, unless they were looking to avoid someone or pose a real challenge. You went miles in specifically for that reason as well—to steer clear of the action, not that it was likely to find you anyway—and get up your tree before anyone came looking.

“There’s fewer spots that far out because the brush gets all scraggly at the coast,” you said. “There’s a few outcroppings though that I’ve seen omegas go for. You really think your intended will go that far?”

Shouto considered you for a long moment, those mismatched eyes roving over you. “I do.”

Whoever it was, they were going to make him work for it, huh? You suppressed a growing spot of offense on his behalf.

“And you’re sure about this person?” you asked.

Shouto nodded. “I have been sure since I was very small.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the same time as your stomach seemed to drop. That was very sweet—and also strangely disheartening to hear.

Why was that disheartening?

“Then—do you think they’re for sure your life mate?” you asked, taking a careful, studied sip of water.

“I do,” Shouto answered. The simplicity of his statement spoke for itself. You were a beta and did not have quite the same capacity to detect your mate as an alpha, but you knew alphas always knew. You wondered if he’d always known he was going to end up an alpha if he’d had that instinctive understanding since he was young.

You wondered why he’d never said anything, all those years you’d grown up together.

Your heart did a strange dip, sinking at the same time it lifted for him.

“I’m really happy for you Shouto. I’m glad I came back just in time to see you find happiness, when it feels like I have already missed so much else,” you told him.

Shouto leaned forward, catching your eye. His gaze was serious where it caught yours. “I am glad you came back, too. You have been… missed,” he said.

Your heartbeat fluttered, and you gripped the edge of the table, trying to quell the feeling. It would not do to be too overwhelmed by Shouto. Not now.

You managed a smile, and quickly rerouted the conversation back to the hiding spots you knew, and the forest trails you’d seen most omegas utilize. Shouto watched you carefully, and you hoped he was committing the information to memory.

After that the conversation turned to more innocuous topics, a rehashing of some of your shared childhood memories, some picking on Touya. The soba disappeared between the two of you, as well as all the side dishes you’d brought. Shouto was incredibly easy to talk to, you found—a fascinating blend of the earnest, slight shit-stirrer of a little boy you’d known and a blandly funny adult man. He had some of Touya’s underlying propensity towards intensity, and some of his mother’s thoughtful sweetness—and you liked the way the familiar traits blended into something faceted and interesting.

He really had grown up.

After lunch he let you explore more of the station, showing you all the compartments on the fire engines, explaining all the equipment. On the way to the door he also let you rifle through the gear bays, showing you his own rack of turnout gear.

He even let you try his jacket on, looking like he was suppressing a smile when the heaviness of it weighed your arms down, watching you flap your arms around, marveling as what was easily twenty pounds of heat-proof fabric resisted you.

No wonder he needed such an intense workout routine.

You couldn’t help but be amazed by it all—who Shouto had turned into, and the fact that he had such an impressive job, one that fit him so well. The fact that he was an adult now, with goals and ambitions that were a lot more grounded than yours. The fact that he was an alpha of all things, and could lift you up into a firetruck as easily as you’d once lifted him off Touya’s hip.

It was so much to contemplate, and you watched him, helplessly fascinated, as he led you around.

You lingered for long enough that the sky was tinging pink and orange by the time you left, and Shouto saw you to the door, insisting on plugging in his number to your phone so you could text when you got home. You could still feel his eyes on you as you turned the corner down the street, a strange warmth suffusing you as you walked. It kept you warm the entire way home, despite the cool evening air.

It was only when you arrived at your mother’s front door, shooting off your promised text to Shouto that you realized that you were mooning like a girl returning home from a date—a completely embarrassing, inappropriate tact for your mind to take with someone who had been your childhood friend. Your childhood junior.

Besides, Shouto had explicitly said he had someone in mind already, someone he intended to follow during the run. And you were too old for him, and a beta as well. Alpha-beta couplings were rare—and if Shouto had known who his life mate was since he was very small, and never given any indication it was a beta—well that spoke for itself.

You shook your head as you let yourself in through the door, trying to slough off the feeling as you called a greeting to your mother. It was sad you’d never get to haul him up a tree after you, the way you’d promised when you were kids. But such was life, you guessed.

Shouto may have grown up into an admirable man and a beautiful alpha—but he was off limits to you. You’d make sure you treated him with nothing but the respect and friendly fondness he deserved. Nothing else.

Absolutely nothing else.

#todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #shouto x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #todoroki x you #todoroki x y/n #todoroki x midoriya #todoroki shoto x reader #bnha x reader #shouto x y/n #shouto x you #shoto x reader #shoto x you

1K notes · View notes

spaghettiposts · 6 months

Text

An Outlaws Christmas

Cowboy!reader x Wanda Maximoff

Summery: Wanda’s father has never liked you, but that won’t stop you from delivering a special gift this season.

Warnings: Mentions of firearms, fluff, Bucky being dramatic.

Words Count: 3.5k

“Bucky I swear to God, you better keep this thing steady.” You muttered between cold breaths, raising your foot to the next step, sensing the ladder tremble beneath you. Your eyes whipped downward, glaring at the cowboy.

He huffed, gripping the ladder tighter. “You just- had to date the rich girl with a four-story mansion didntcha?” He seethed, shifting his weight to support the item. “It’s fucking freezing man.”

Indeed, it was freezing. The middle of December in Fort Worth brought snow gleaming in the streets, covering trails and displeasing the horses. Which you had to use to get here in the first place, Wanda’s house that is. More precisely her fathers house, who wasn’t so keen about you. Why were you here? Simple.

Christmas, the season of giving, in any weather condition. And in any condition you always wanted to visit Wanda, even if Bucky complained about it. Especially tonight, when it was Christmas night. Where family’s would spend their nights together, huddled by the fireplace. Something you wanted to share with Wanda someday.

Something an outlaw like you couldn’t have, but you tried anyway. You tried for her, tried to change your rugged ways. Formerly around this time of year you never would’ve imagined a reason to celebrate this holiday. There was nobody special in your life, no family, and Bucky never liked Christmas ideals.

Now there was Wanda to be that someone. Beautiful, intelligent, amazingly talented Wanda. The girl who went for someone like yourself, a lowlife criminal trying to mend their ways. She saw the good in you, that you failed to see in yourself. And bit by bit she brought it out of you. Blackmail Barnes would constantly use on you, mocking you as the ‘cowboy who got whipped’ or ‘cowboy gone soft’ and his personal favorite ‘Casanova’. Despite the smacks you gave him each time he dared to use those terms, secretly you didn’t mind, it just meant you were closer to change than before. With that in mind, you didn’t let the opportunity to make Wanda your girlfriend pass by you, despite her parents disapproval.

Maybe if you got a better job, in time that would change too.

“Just keep the ladder steady Barnes, I’ll be finished quick.” You hollered over the wind, climbing up with haste. Looking through the windows you recognized them as the third floor, for the servants Wanda had told you. Rich people had rooms for everything nowadays.

“Quick my ass..” He scoffed.

“Was that sarcasm James?”

He let out a groan, pounding his fist on the ladder. “Just get your girl already”

“Alright alright…” You chuckled under your breath, hurrying up the ladder. You didn’t want to risk his impatience, the last thing you wanted was for him to throw you off. Fortunately, with the heavy snowfall, you’d probably only break one rib.

Although Wanda wouldn’t be happy, so you wouldn’t risk it.

Finally, the ladder came to an end, perfectly syncing with Wanda’s bedroom window. You were grateful to Mr. Williamson, your local carpenter, took your request for a 40 foot ladder seriously. Raising up your fist to knock–as you had done so many times before–you found yourself plagued with…hesitancy.

Pulling the poorly wrapped package out of your interior coat pockets, you examined the item. Its contaminants inside were beautiful, even you could admit, but the outside? Poorly wrapped crumbles of brown lunch bag paper with white string holding all the mess together? Was what was on the inside enough for Wanda?

Feeling another shake on the ladder you turned your head down, meeting the eyes of Bucky. He motioned to the window with his head, shooting you a thumbs up. You mouthed a small ‘thanks’ to him, right now wasn’t the time for insecurities. You’re sure Wanda would love the gift, or at least appreciate the gesture.

Clearing your throat, you tapped on the window, announcing yourself, “Wanda! It’s me! Do you mind opening the window?” You asked, waiting for the velvet curtains to part. In all honesty, you weren’t quite sure she was there at the moment. You knew the tendency her parents had of venturing off into parties, dragging her along into them and you assumed Christmas parties were a thing.

A couple of seconds later, you heard shuffling from inside, the curtains opening and your smile widening. Wanda looked through the window, searching for you till her eyes landed on your figure covered in snow. Her eyes widened, her hand lifting up to her chin in shock, “Y/n?”

“Hi Darlin’.” You shot the bewildered woman a toothy grin, lifting your hand to wave at her. Carefully she opened the window slowly, making sure not to knock you over in the process. Her shock eventually subsided into worry, grabbing you by the wrist to pull you inside.

“What are you doing here? It’s cold out, you’ll get sick.” She fretted, patting your forearms to shake off the snow.

“I’ve got my jacket,” You shrugged, her hands staying on your chest. “and I’m here for you. I brought you something for Christmas.” You smiled, digging through your pockets, Wanda tilted her head curiously. Pulling out the paper present you presented it to her.

Her eyes looked down at the gift fondly, she could tell you had wrapped it but thankfully found it endearing. Her fingers ran delicately through the string tying it together, as she turned to look at you with soft eyes and a tender smile tugging at her lips.

“Really?” She whispered, rubbing her hands on your chest before letting them hang on your shoulders. Her smile turned into a small smirk at the way you clearly leaned into her touch. “You didn’t have to Y/n…”

Truthfully you didn’t have to, Wanda had expressed how she was fine with you not celebrating the holiday, knowing how different your childhoods had been. She didn’t expect anything from you, a problem you wanted to change. You were capable enough for her to depend on you.

You blushed, enjoying the feel of Wanda’s fingers caressing the back of your neck. “But I want to, it’s custom to give your loved ones gifts and you’re mine.” You said sheepishly.

Wanda’s face softens at your words, keeping her gaze on you, searching for something more. And you think she’s going to close the distance but instead she moves her gaze to the door, squeezing your shoulders.

“Okay, but I’m afraid this’ll have to be quick.” She sighs “My Fathers due to be back soon, and you know how he feels about our relationship.”

At the mention of her father your expression turns into a slight grimace, the man was a governor, rich beyond belief and trying to get rid of old fashion ways. Including individuals such as yourself, outlaws. He had reason to, but still the thought of him left a bitter distaste in your mouth.

“He’ll learn to love me eventually.”

Wanda lets out a breathy chuckle, shaking her head in denial. “I highly doubt it, he’s very…traditional.”

Traditional. You hated that word.

“I could be traditional.” You tried to reason, even though you were the least bit traditional. It was worth a shot.

“With that rustic drawl of yours I’m not too sure Detka.” Wanda teased, leaning up to place a kiss on the corner of your lips. You wanted to correct her but she continued, “But that’s okay, personally I find it very charming.”

And then she closed the distance between you, savoring the way you let out a small sigh. You missed this, you missed her, you especially missed her touch. The way her hands guided yours down to her waist, encouraging you.

Wanda appreciated your kindness and respect towards boundaries. Making you all the more attractive in her eyes, the way you’d ask before anything, even hand holding, your charming gentleman like behavior. God, she wanted to rip those jeans off you.

You felt Wanda try to deepen the kiss which you eagerly gave into, granting her tongue permission. Her hands slipped inside your shirt, scratching the skin softly, causing your breath to hitch. Pulling away from the kiss with a gasp, resting your forehead against yours, catching your breath.

Wanda snickers between stolen kisses. “Damn it Wands…” You mumble affectedly, “This was ‘post to be about you.”

Pulling her head slightly away she stares up at you, a mischievous grin playing at her lips. “We have a couple minutes to spare, me and you.” Her hold tightened on your neck, pulling you in for another kiss. “I’ve missed you.”

Taking everything in you, you slow down the kiss much to Wanda’s disappointment. You chuckle shyly, remembering how she told you to be quick, ironic. “I’ve missed you too but not- today” You shudder with all seriousness, removing your hands from her hips.

“Mkay, I suppose we could wait for another moment.” She says, releasing her hold on you. “Besides you know I like taking my time with you.” She winks, laughing at your reaction.

“Quit teasin’ me…” You sigh, trying to shake off the blush dusting your cheeks, something that tended to happen with Wanda. The brunette only shrugged, feigning innocence. She took a hold of your wrist pulling you towards her bed, taking a seat and then patting the space beside her. Eagerly you settle in beside her, placing the gift on her lap.

“Open it.” You smile, anticipating the reaction.

Wanda fiddles with the present, tilting her head. “What is it?”

You snort “Well you won’t know until you open it Wands.”

Pursing her lips Wanda tugs on the strings, delicately unwrapping the gift which you didn’t really get, considering it wasn’t some high class material but kept quiet. Once the paper wrapping was off it revealed a rectangular shaped black leather box, it looked rather expensive. Feeling the leather Wanda confirmed her thoughts with widened eyes. Pure rich leather.

Her fingers traced the fabric, turning to stare at you. “Y/n what is this…” She whispered, you urged her to open the lid. And when she did the gasp that left her lips was almost comical. “Oh my gosh.”

“It’s a pendant.” You pointed out, feeling a little uncomfortable under her strong gaze. Did she like it? If only mind readers existed.

“Yes I know but, how?” She questioned, picking up the necklace before frowning. It was beautiful. “Detka…I don’t need you spending this much on me. This looks far too pricy.” Came her response, you sucked your teeth already expecting that answer from her. Wanda was never one to let you spoil her, knowing how much you made, odd considering you made a good amount…with a gun.

“Saving up money isn’t that hard, you’ve just gotta kill the right men to get it.” You smile sheepishly, a poor attempt to lighten the mood.

“Y/n.” Wanda glared, disliking your joke.

“I’m joking! Honest.” You laughed, putting your hands up in surrender. “Actually this jewel wasn’t so hard to find.”

“You found it?”

“Yup, mined it straight from that rock. Me and Barnes were chasing after a guy…” You hesitated, her raised eyebrow challenging you to finish that sentence. “To talk, down in the mines, when I found it. It reminded me of you, just like your eyes. So I plucked it open and took it to a jeweler. All's fair, no shooting involved.” You swore, crossing a finger across your heart.

Wanda just shook her head, rubbing her temple with her hand. You could tell she was upset at the revelation, she never appreciated hearing stories that could’ve killed you. Another thing you were trying to change, this one was more challenging as there were many people who wanted you dead, the difficult part was getting Wanda to understand that.

Both of you were stubborn that way.

“Does that…make it worse?” You asked carefully, debating whether to put a hand on her back, eventually deciding against and placing it back on your side. You didn’t want to overwhelm her. “I could get you one from the store if you’d like. I saw some real pretty ones there too.”

“That makes it all the more special to me, you mined it straight from the rock and fixed it up but you know how I feel about your ‘talks’.” She ended with a slightly twinge of annoyance. “I just worry about you and your job.”

You fiddled with the sheets underneath your fingertips, unsure what to say about that besides an apology. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to worry you.”

Worrying was something no one had ever cared to do for you in your lifetime, not until Wanda. The feeling was strange…and something to get used to. You tried to be more understanding towards Wanda’s feelings, having picked up a book or two on how to maintain a healthy relationship, and Wanda was gladly by your side throughout the process.

“Its fine really, so long as you come back to me alive.” She empathized the last word, giving you a stern look. You nodded your head, agreeing with her. Lifting up her chin, carrying a satisfied look by your response, she trusted you. “If not I’ll come back and kill you myself.”

“Honey, me and you both know that you don’t know your way around a revolver.” You teased, leaning in forward to grasp her hand and place a small peck on the back of it.

“Just like you don’t know your way around the kitchen?” She retorted smugly, causing your eyebrows to furrow.

“I know my way…my meals are cooked with the intent of survival.”

“Clearly taste isn’t a part of your ideologies of ‘survival’.” She sneered, you tried to hide your smile but ultimately failed, laughing along with her.

The atmosphere had shifted, no longer holding that same tension as it did before. Worries and insecurities had left you, laughing along with the girl you had grown to love. You loved moments like these, carefree ones. Ones where you didn’t have to worry about wild snakes or bandits trying something. Ones where you could be happy with the person you loved most.

Admiring your girlfriend you couldn’t help yourself but to lean forward and cup her chin, connecting your lips together. It was a quick kiss, one you pulled away from as quick as it started, not permitting Wanda the chance to kiss back.

Instead she stared at you in shock, cheeks red. You had initiated something. Feeling flustered from the attention you looked down at your lap in embarrassment, which was quickly overtaken by Wanda who threw herself on you in glee, pampering kisses all over your face.

“I love you.” She whispered, kissing your cheeks. “Even if you’re a reckless idiot who climbs up four story mansions, and is a part time bounty hunter.” A kiss to your nose “But you’re my idiot.” A kiss to your forehead “Forever.” And finally your lips.

“Forever?”

“Mhm, mind putting this on me?” She requested, grabbing the necklace chain. You nodded happily, watching her shift in your lap to get a better view. Gently you pushed her hair aside, bringing the jewelry round her neck. It took a couple of frustrating attempts to get inside the clasp but eventually you managed, closing it.

Wanda thanked you with another kiss before moving herself off your lap and standing to get a view of the necklace in the mirror. Pushing yourself off the bed, you followed your girlfriend into her closet, admiring how divine the jewel looked on her.

“You look gorgeous.” You sighed, hearts racing at just the sight of her.

Wanda smiled, toying with the jewel. “It’s very pretty, I love it, thank you.” She reassured, placing a hand on your shoulder and giving you a loving kiss on the cheek. You smile back at her, taking the initiative to bring your lips together this time, sharing a loving kiss. That’s all it was, love.

Wanda smiled happily into the kiss, proud of you for taking initiative again, slotting her arms back on your neck. Tilting her head to deepen the kiss she pulled away, “But you know what would’ve been nicer?”

“What?”

“A ring.”

“A ring?”

“If this was your way of claiming your mark on me, it was a nice attempt but usually people settle for rings.” She replied, playing with the baby hairs on the back of your neck. “Which I’m still waiting for, maybe that way you’ll have a reason to put that gun down for once. A family to come back to.”

A family.

Oh gosh.

Hoping it wasn’t embarrassingly obvious how much you enjoyed that idea, you barely managed to squeak out a small, “But you like the necklace right…?”

“Of course, it’ll be hard to take it off of me now.” Wanda retorted playfully “Unless you’re willing to try?”

“I um.” You swallowed dryly, definitely now you knew your face was looking as ripe as a tomato.

At your expression Wanda let out a hearty laugh, furthering your embarrassment. She slapped an arm at your chest playfully, “I’m just teasing Detka, breathe. Although I’m serious about that, I’ll wear it forever.”

“I’m glad you like it. Like really glad, I wasn’t too sure and Bucky wasn’t much help.” You said, recalling the way Bucky had fallen asleep midway through your shopping session in search of something for the girl.

“I can see that he's never been the romantic type, unless you count that disastrous encounter with Natasha as romance then, maybe.” Both of you cringed at the memory.

Sputters of a car garnered your attention distracting you from the girl in your arms. The noise sounded suspiciously like her fathers new automobile, quickly you removed your hands from Wanda’s body. Wanda too, let you go at impressive speeds, rushing to take a look outside the window. Peering outside she was met with the sight of her father, who was kicking the tire of his car, muttering curses under his breath.

Oh shit her father.

Oh shit Bucky.

“Bucky.” You gasped, collecting your things. “Shit shit shit, Buckys still outside.”

“My fathers here.” Wanda said through gritted teeth, your eyes widened, rushing to get out of there. Before you could get too far Wanda stopped you with a tug at your forearm, smacking a box at your chest.

“What’s this?” You questioned, eyebrows furrowed, pushing the box back to get a better look at it. Quickly Wanda tugged your chin to meet her, placing one last peck on your lips before pulling the window open.

“Christmas gift.” She explained, “I don’t like what you do, and this isn’t me encouraging it, but you’re my girlfriend and I love you. So that’s that, now go before I change my mind.”

You nodded your head dumbly, unsure what she meant by all that, but climbed out anyway, waving her goodbye with the box secured in your hands.

Once you reached the bottom it was only then that you realized what she meant by those words, a new rifle stood in your hands. One of the best models out there. Grinning widely you took no time in ripping it out of the box, oh how you loved this girl.

—

“Fouty fucking minutes.” Bucky snarled, still shaking the snow off his body. There wasn’t a single part of him that wasn’t white from head to toe. “Forty! You left me in the cold for Forty minutes!!” He shook his leather hat violently, slapping it around.

You sighed, taking the hat off your head and dusting yourself as well. In contrast you weren’t so full of snow, which just upset the man more. “I’m sorry Buck, I didn’t mean to take so long, but it was amazing.” The last part came out in awe.

Bucky placed his hat back on firmly, throwing a glare at you. He knew that voice, that puppy love coded tone of yours that only ever arose to haunt him when you were on the verge of an hour talk about Wanda. He debated shooting you right now before you started again.

“Forty minutes…I could’ve gotten frostbite you know, then who’s gonna cover you? Wanda? Like hell.” He muttered, narrowing his eyes at you when you pulled out your new rifle. One of the newest models too, he had to admit he was quite envious.

“She’s so amazing…”

“Are you even listening to me?!” He said exasperated, throwing his hands in the air.

“She gave me a gun…” You sighed dreamily, hugging the firearm to your chest. “Not just any gun Bucky, but a Winchester Model. The expensive good kind too.” You exclaimed, shaking him by the shoulders. His face scrunched up, smacking you away.

Bucky huffed from beside you, continuing to walk since you were too lovesick to lead. The building wasn’t too far from here. “She got me a good revolver too, you ain’t special.”

“Yeah but…mines better.”

“That doesn’t even- whatever you still took too damn long in there.”

“I haven’t seen her in weeks!” You whined, trying to defend yourself.

Bucky let out a grunt, rolling his eyes. “Yeah and you won’t see her in weeks, with all that back pain you’re gonna get.”

“What?”

“I call dibs on the good mattress, you fucked with me too much this time.” He shrugged, opening the door to your shared building.

“That’s not-”

“And by the way, I can still see her lipstick all over you.” He motioned to your face, before pointing down your neck. “You might wanna cover up those hickeys too, Bottom.”

“James!”

#wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x you #wanda x reader #wanda x y/n #wanda my beloved #wanda imagine #wlw post #cowboy au #cowboy #Wanda is rich rich #she’s sugar mommy material 🤞#but not in this story unfortunately 😔#Wanda’s worried girlfriend material here

521 notes · View notes

slasherbvnnie · 1 year

Text

Until We Found You | Part V

Part V is finally out!! I enjoyed writing this one a lot! I still have some more chapters in mind, especially for the big reveal. Not sure how many I can write out, but I don’t see it happening anytime soon. Sorry it’s a bit short this time! The next part is going to be longer. As usual, heed the tags

Modern Day College Scream AU, Obsessed AFAB!Reader, Eventual Poly!Ghostface x reader, Eventual NSFW, All characters 18+

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX

word count: 1836

“Don’t you know the trope of never having sex in horror films?” The other line asked you, making you laugh, “you didn’t kill me the first time, why would it be any different now?” You asked as you sat out on your front porch, taking a seat on the bench outside. “What if someone else made you star in their movie, huh? Wouldn’t you be part of their film instead,” they said as you laughed, “yeah, but then it could be some big cross over. Like alien versus predator or king kong and Godzilla, I would kinda like to see that, my two boys fighting for protecting me.” You teased as they chuckled.

“I heard you wanted both of us there tonight,” they hummed, making you smile, “so you’re the one who makes the calls?” you asked before continuing, “I want you both here…alongside a new lingerie outfit too, you boys are really racking up a total. You two should take me shopping sometime.” You suggested playfully, wishing that you could go out in public with the two. “Maybe someday,” they said, sounding a little more somber now. “Will you two ever let me know who you are?” You asked, it had been on your mind lately, but the silence gave you your answer. “I guess you still can’t trust me, huh? It’s fine, I’ll find a way to prove it to you two.” You said, hearing another phone call coming in. “I have to let you go now, one of my friends is calling, I’ll see you two tonight, right?” You questioned, “we’ll be a little later tonight but don’t worry, we’ll be there.” They promised you before hanging up. Y

ou smiled, answering the new call coming in. “Hey! Me and Stu were gonna head out for lunch soon, did you wanna join? Sid’s gonna call Billy to see if he wanted to go,” Tatum’s voice said, you debated for a moment before agreeing. “Great! Me and Stu will pick you up, we can pick up Randy too afterwards,” she said as you hummed. “Sounds good, I’ll get ready now,” You said, hanging up after saying goodbye. Your eyes lingered out into the street, you couldn’t help but feel as if there was someone watching you, wondering if your secret stalker was watching over you right now. Part of you wished they’d just come out and reveal themselves to you, pull off their mask and show you their faces. You let out a sigh, getting up from the bench and heading back inside the house to get ready.By the time Stu’s car pulled up to your driveway you were ready, hair and outfit finished along with just the right amount of makeup for you.

You could hear the music playing from outside, wondering at which point in time Stu would finally lose his hearing, you gave him another 10 good years. You texted your parents that you were going out with your group again, promising them to be home before curfew. Curfew had bummed you out recently, you made a mental note to tell your masked killers that you were mad at them for making Woodsboro go under a curfew, everything sucked now that nothing was open past 6. “Hey Macher, calm it with the stereo,” you said as Stu chuckled, “can’t help it, I like making my presence known,” he said as he turned up the music louder. You rolled your eyes, chatting with Tatum as you all headed to pick up the others.

Sid and Billy met you at the restaurant, already sitting down at a booth when you all arrived. It was about an hour later, everyone finished with their food and just spending time chatting about whatever came up. “Did you guys hear about Oliver?” Randy asked as Tatum nodded, “Dewey said it was even worse than Casey and Steve, said you couldn’t recognize him at all,” she added in as your eyebrows furrowed. “Sid said the neighbors tried getting the killer, did Dewey say anything about that?” You questioned as Tatum shook her head, “no, he said the neighbor tried to shoot at them but they missed. Said they took off into the woods,” she said, you growing worried if they had been hurt. They didn’t mention anything on the phone so you assumed they weren’t, making you relax a bit. “Maybe it was your mystery date,” Randy teased, making you glare at him, “I mean we were talking about him yesterday, maybe your boyfriend got mad about him and decided to off him as some romantic present,” he added as you laughed. “Right, cause I totally want to be an accomplice,” you joked as you rolled your eyes, but you did wonder if that was true.

Oliver had bullied others as well, so you didn’t put it past them to have also been one of his victims. Though, the thought that they did it for you made your heart beat faster. “I think you cracked the code Meeks,” Billy teased, noticing your reddening cheeks, “are you all forgetting she was almost killed by them?” Sidney brought up as Stu hummed, “well she is still alive, maybe Randy was right with them doing it to cover up their tracks,” he said as you scoffed. “Can you jackasses back off before I take my turn at you?” You said jokingly, waving the butterknife on your plate around playfully.

Later that night you sat in bed, rewatching the Texas Chainsaw Massacre on your laptop with Irena purring and fast asleep on your lap. You snacked on some popcorn as you watched the movie, looking to your side as you saw Tatum calling you. You hit pause on the movie and answered as you ate another piece of popcorn, “whats up, Tate?” You asked as she quickly spoke, “holy shit! They almost got the killer!” she yelled into the phone, making you sit up. “What?” You questioned as she laughed. “The killer! They were going after some of Oliver’s friends. They were having a celebration for him and one of the guys actually fucking stabbed them! Dewey said they were chasing them down but lost them a few moments ago, they said the police are gonna be waiting at the hospital incase anyone comes in with a stab wound,” she said, you carefully moved Irena off your lap and set your laptop on your vanity as you looked out your window. You could see the black outfit moving and struggling to climb up, “shit, that’s awesome Tate, let me know if Dewey calls you again, I’m gonna go tell my parents,” You spoke, hanging up the phone and putting it down as you pushed your window open.

“Seriously? Going after the whole fucking football team?” You asked angrily, putting your hand out to help them inside. You shut the window after they got in, seeing them collapse onto the floor. “Shit, hold on,” You said as you rushed to your bathroom, grabbing the first aid kit and rushing back to their side. You were about to lift up the robe before they grabbed your wrist, pushing your hand away. You felt a little hurt that they still didn’t trust you, but pointed in the direction of the restroom. “You can patch yourself up in there, my friend said the police are going to be at the hospital, you can’t go,” you said, seeing the flashing of police lights pass by outside. “Is the other one okay?” You questioned them, getting a nod as they hubbled to the bathroom. After half an hour they emerged from the bathroom, taking a seat on your desk chair. “Are you okay? Did the bleeding stop?” You fretted over them, getting a nod as they motioned you over. They grabbed your wrist, holding your hand up to their chest so you could feel their steady heartbeat. You relaxed before pushing on their chest, huffing at them. “The whole fucking football team, you’re actually fucking crazy,” you huffed out before gently rubbing where you had pushed them. “The other one, he got away okay?” You asked, smiling when you got another nod. “You can stay as long as you need tonight, the police are probably out searching for you,” you said, sighing softly as you looked to them. “Don’t think I forgot about that lingerie set either, it was pretty expensive,” you said jokingly, earning a laugh from behind their mask. “I’m gonna head to bed, I have an exam tomorrow,” you said, giving a little kiss to their mask. “If you wanna join at least take off your clothes, I won’t look, I promise. You can even blindfold me if you don’t trust me,” you offered, heading to bed. They followed after you, you laid down and closed your eyes, facing them so they could see that you weren’t looking. They began to shuffle out of the costume, going to your door and locking it before heading back to your bed. They laid down behind you, wrapping their arms around you and holding you close.

You fell asleep easily in their hold, relaxing in their arms throughout the night. A few hours later you woke up to muffled voices in the bathroom, you sat up and rubbed your eyes as you looked to see the morning sunlight lighting up your room. “I’m fine, just spent the night at her place,” you heard coming from the bathroom, your groggy mind a bit too slow to recognize they weren’t using the voice changer. You did your best to not pay attention, not wanting to betray their trust by finding out who they were too soon. You laid down again, closing your eyes when you heard the door open. You felt their hand tracing your face before they planted little kisses on your cheeks before planting a soft and loving one to your lips. They pulled away and pulled the mask on before tapping you, you pretended to stir awake, blinking up at them. “You’re leaving?” You asked as they nodded, “be safe, okay? I would rather prefer finding out who you are when you trust me and not through some Gale Weathers interview,” you said as you leaned up, planting a little kiss on their mask just like last night. “Be safe, both of you,” you said as they nodded and began to climb out your window.

An hour later Tatum came to pick you up in her little red beetle, driving both of you to class. You met up with Sid and Stu, who had his arm wrapped around Tatum. “Where’s Billy at today?” Tatum asked as Sid sighed, “said he came down with a major stomach bug. He said he was sick all night and didn’t even sleep, his dad told him to head to the doctor instead of class,” she said as you turned towards Sidney. Stu became aware of your glance at her, his eyes widening in surprise when you made eye contact with him.

2K notes · View notes

thebrightsilverlining · 1 month

Text

P5X and the Importance of Community

There’s something interesting about how P5X is handling confidants. Obviously, I’ll have to wait until it gets officially localized, but there seems to be a running trend in regards to community.

See, X is different from P3,4, and 5 in that the protagonist did not move before the start of the game. There’s no adjusting to some new environment and meeting a bunch of people there. Wonder has lived here all his life. So making friends isn’t about becoming a part of a new place. Instead, it’s a signifier of Wonder’s change in attitude.

Wonder’s whole deal is that he was just kinda coasting through life. As the lyrics of Ambitions and Visions points out: “Act like I don’t care. Why even bother? That’s what I though then. Just another bluffer.” He was a go with the flow guy who couldn’t be bothered to put in the effort whose bitterness and lack of ambition was the reason why things weren’t going the way he wanted in life. A fact that he didn’t really want to admit.

But that changes when he becomes a Phantom Thief and he begins to actually put effort in and start caring. The whole idea of the Phantom Idols is that Wonder’s connection to the Sea of Souls allows him to see the potential in people. To see who they could be. Meaning he’s learning to shed his previous ambivalence and see people for who they really are and who they could become.

This becomes even more impactful, because he’s not in some new place with new people. He’s in his home, with most of the people having already been living there alongside him. So it’s not a matter of the world changing. It’s his perception of it that changes. It’s him realizing that the people he’d written off are actually pretty amazing.

So one of the confidants is his next door neighbor and his mom’s friend. Someone who was always around but he never bothered to really get to know. It’s his mom’s friend and they’re both old, what could possibly be interesting about that? They probably talk about whatever it is middle aged women talk about. Boring.

Except she’s not. Once he starts paying attention he finds out that she used to be a fashion designer. And she was good at it!? Not to mention those photos of her when she was younger. Who knew that Mrs. Tomiyama was COOL?!

And hey, did you know that she also has a nephew? Yeah, he’s only like a year older than you and he wants to be an actor someday. Gonna star on tv in Featherman and make so many people smile. If you’re getting to know Mrs. Tomiyama you should probably get to know him too. Who knows? You might even become friends.

And hey, what about that girl that’s always helping her father with running the local bar? You must’ve passed her by a million times by now and you’ve never spoken a word have you? Did you know that she wants to be a nurse when she grows up? Or that she’s planning to simply stay home instead so she can take care of her father with his back problem?

Or what about Yaoling Li? Did you even know that a college student from China had moved into the neighborhood? Right next to the Fujikawa residence! You know, where Yukimi lives? She’s your age, why did you never even try to become friends? But maybe it’s time to remedy that, especially if you’re both gonna befriend Yaoling, who is still struggling with the signage at the local market.

It’s all about the community. That community that’s always been there, that you just never bothered to pay attention to. The people so unique and varied, with dreams and aspirations and lives so complex you can barely imagine. That you could get to know, so long as you were willing to put in the effort to do so. And maybe, if you did, you might just find your life is better for it.

It’s a concept I find incredibly interesting, and one I really hope is done well in P5X. Because, if so, it might just be my favorite handling of confidants/social links yet.

#persona 5 #p5x #persona 5 the phantom x #wonder p5x #yaoling li #reo kamiyama #kayo tomiyama #yukimi fujikawa #minami miyashita #p5r #persona 5 royal

100 notes · View notes

thebestofoneshots · 8 months

Text

Gilded Constellations | wolfstar x reader

Series Masterlist | The Interlude | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 6.3 K Warnings: None Prompt: New Friends, new adventures to come and one Halloween Party to prepare. This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.

Chapter 16: Boogie Wonderland

The next day, you charmed your restricted section book cover, just like you had done with the spicy one, making it look like another casual spell book. You then spend most of your classes devouring its content, it was way more than the two pages you’d found on the 5th-year DADA book, although a good deal of them focused solely on how to defeat a werewolf.

Tips on how to kill werewolves, spells against werewolves, weapons against werewolves, a particular line irked you so much –if you see a werewolf hex to kill, don’t bother incapacitating– that you were about to throw the book on the ground and cast incendio on it. But it wasn’t until about the second half of the book that it finally started to talk about its qualities. Especially with the section titled “How to spot werewolves in your daily life”. Of course, while most of the things in the book were about spotting and hurting them, you were more focused on learning which things you should never do.

On a small piece of parchment, you started documenting everything that you had learned so far. You’d even use a codeword to refer to Remus, in case your note was misplaced or lost.

My Knowledge on WW:

Silver burns them (throw away or alter the ring mom gave me once Puppy returns it).

Silver and Dittany could save someone after being lethally bitten by a werewolf, turning them into one regardless.

Bites are contagious only if the werewolf bites someone in werewolf form, not outside of it (Luna could bite whoever he wants without turning them, as long as they’re in human form, maybe they’d get a bit of a raw meat affection for a couple of days, but nothing more). Why is this relevant to me?

Werewolves do not remember who they are once transformed. They can be very aggressive, and they have killed friends and loved ones in wolf form; they will remember what they did once they’re back in human form. If Luna turns into werewolf form and you’re around, turn the fuck away.

Any bite or scratch obtained from a werewolf, whether in human or animal form, would leave a permanent scar. (Luna probably has a bite mark somewhere. I wonder where?)

Werewolves rarely have children. If a werewolf has a child with another werewolf while in wolf form, they’d have a normal wolf, except they’d be beautiful and nearly as smart as a human.

Werewolves don’t really attack animals, they seem to target exclusively Humans.

There’s little to no medicine developed to help treat werewolves. -> Racist wizards going at it again.

They can be a little aggressive, touchy or moody as the full moon approaches.

They have a crazy good sense of smell (even in human form apparently; maybe I’ll get to ask Luna about it someday)

THEY AREN’T ALL EVIL.

You read through your list a couple of times, wondering if you’d missed anything from the book. But you were certain you had narrowed down the most important clues the book had. There was a section of the book that had a couple of spells to defend yourself from werewolves, but they were all incredibly aggressive attack spells, most of them to severely damage or kill the werewolf, when you finished reading you ripped the page from the book, threw it on the floor and whispered “incendio,” contemplating how the fire slowly consumed the old piece of paper. You might have not been able to burn down the entire book, but that was pleasing enough. And you had to get rid of it before anyone read through it and tried to use it on Remus, or any other good werewolves. Because no matter how many times the book tried to frame Werewolves as being inhumane, and immoral beasts, incapable of feeling remorse, you knew it was all bullshit.

Remus was kind, gentle, and incredibly caring, he’d been the first one to approach you when you were feeling off after divinations, he’d shared chocolate with you when you were injured, he’d held you when a quaffle had been thrown your way, and he’d even taken you to his quiet spot when he thought it might help you feel better. Remus had, even in the short time you’d met him, always been there for you, and you wanted to be at least half as good of a friend as he’d been. Remus was nothing like the harrowing picture the book painted of werewolves. And while you were sure actual evil werewolves existed, you’d heard of them in the news, with wolves like Fenrir Greyback and its followers, you also knew there were evil and good wizards. It wasn’t a matter of what you were, but a matter of who you were. You’d know, your mom had told you about the hard times her mother had had with her being half fairy, the Wizarding Community just wasn’t very accepting of diversity.

As you walked back from the courtyard where you were reading, book back in your backpack and parchment gently tucked in the book you had in your hands, you accidentally bumped into someone, and whoever you bumped into had been walking with so much force, the books you were holding fell to the ground. The boy –a Ravenclaw you hadn’t met– leaned down and helped you pick your stuff. But the page on your book had slipped and fell a little further from your grasp, he walked towards it before you even had the chance to react, and he eyed it as you gulped. Thank Merlin you’d used codenames.

“You’re into werewolves too?” He asked.

You frowned, thinking of a quick excuse, say it was an assignment, say it’s homework, a part of you said. On 6th year? about werewolves? who would ever believe it?, responded the other. But there was something about the question that caught your attention then, “What did you say, sorry?”

The boy turned to you, “Oh- um… I asked if you were also into werewolves…” he said, as he handed the parchment over to you. There it was: also into them.

“Uh… yeah, I’ve been doing some research.”

He nodded, and motioned to the paper, still in your hands “Who’s Luna?”

You were caught off guard again “It’s a… character, from a story.” You said, making it up on the spot “I’m writing it, the story… I’m writing the story.” How on earth did I become such a shitty liar?

“Oh, that’s amazing! I’m actually really interested in them as well.”

“You are?”

He nodded “Yeah, I’ve been working with Professor Slughorn to develop a potion.”

“To make them human again?” You asked with a frown.

He shook his head “It’s… That’s impossible… But Slughorn and I think It’s possible to create one that will allow them to remember who they are while in wolf form, to reduce the risk of attacking humans.”

“What really? That’s brilliant! I’d love to help you!” You said, almost a little too excitedly, so you cleared your throat “I mean, it would be a really good way of getting knowledge for my story…”

“Really?” He asked, with a smile “You’re (Y/N), right? New transfer student? Gryffindor’s new keeper?”

You nodded “I’m afraid I don’t know your name…”

He extended his hand, and you shook it “Damocles Belby, most people just call me Kless, I’m from 7th…” he seemed to think about the next thing before deciding to ask “Are you really as brave as they say?”

“They say I’m brave?!” You asked, in disbelief.

He nodded “You stood up against some nasty Slytherins in class, and they say you fly like a daredevil, or so I’ve heard…”

“Well, I –gossip sure travels fast here– Why?”

“I’m more of a books and potions kind of person, you see…” he started, moving one of his arms up to the back of his head, to scratch it, it looked like Kless wasn’t too eager to ask for this particular favour “…but I really want to test out the effect of Moonflower on the potion, see if it helps. The issue is, and you might not know this but Moonflower–“

“–only blooms in full moon.” You finished.

He exhaled, “Yeah, and I’ve been told that there is a chance to find them in the forbidden forest.”

“You want me to get it for you, don’t you?”

He nodded, “Only if it wasn’t too much trouble. And if you helped with it, I could finish the first draft of the potion in a couple of weeks and we could probably test it together, and if the position works, I could get a brilliant recommendation letter from Slughorn to study at Cauldronwell, the School of Advanced Potionry. Maybe we could even get one for you.”

You took a deep breath, considering the situation, the forbidden forest must be forbidden for a reason, and the boys had warned you about it too. Eventually, you spoke again “If I do this, will you let me have some of the potion?”

He looked at you, as if thinking about it, probably wondering if he should ask why you’d need the potion, but in the end, he only nodded “Deal.”

You smiled at that, pleased with the answer he’d given you, “Pleasure to meet you Kless, I’ll see you around.” You said before waving at him and resuming your way to the common room since you’d be helping Remus and Sirius finish up the decorations for the party. But just before turning on the corner you turned your head towards him again “I’ll find you when I get it.”

He nodded, “I’ll send you a copy of my research through owl mail.” He responded.

Sirius and Remus were already in the common room when you arrived, you smiled and took the book with the parchment, grabbing the piece of paper and hiding it deep within one of the pockets of your backpack. While you were busy, still packing stuff inside your bag, you felt Sirius’s arms wrap around you as he hugged you from behind. He placed a quick kiss on your cheek before pulling away again, grabbing a piece of candy from the bowl next to your bag on the table and popping it into his mouth. “What were you up to?” He asked, noting you were late.

“Sorry, got really caught up in this book.” You told him with an apologetic smile as if Sirius could actually be angry at you. You then looked around, the boys had already gotten a head start. James, who was supposed to help, was still locked up in his room, adding some final details to his Hamlet costume while Peter was in the kitchens, making sure the treats were ready for the party.

“Marlene’s gone to get a fog potion,” Remus said, as he grabbed onto a piece of cloth neatly folded on the table, “Beth and Tom went to Hogsmeade to buy some last-minute treats.”

You paid close attention as he started to unfold the cloth “Is that the banner Lily made?” You asked, walking closer to him, Sirius was looking at you with a smile as you moved towards his friend.

Remus nodded and said a quick “Yeah.” Handing a corner of the cloth over, so you could help him, the two of you extended the banner together, finally opening it up. The Banner was long and, it was black with orange letters over it, and it had two Jack-o-lanterns on each side that screamed “Happy Halloween” when you looked directly at them.

“It’s brilliant!” You said with a smile, as you helped Remus levitate it closer to the ceiling near the entrance. Sirius was busy placing the jack-o-lanterns you had carved during the week all over the common room. Once the banner was hung, you walked towards the table and pulled out a bag you’d left there a couple of classes ago.

“What’s that?” Sirius asked, walking closer to you again, shoulders brushing against yours. You smirked, and took a skull from the inside, throwing it towards Sirius, he easily caught it and looked at it, before turning back to you.

“You thought it would scar–“ he started, but then, out of nowhere, the skull started laughing maniacally, Sirius jumped and let it fall on the floor.

The skull said “Auch,” while you and Remus started laughing.

“Did you see his face?” You asked him.

“Absolutely priceless, wish I’d gotten a picture of it!” Agreed Remus.

Sirius just looked at you both with a pout as he picked the skull back from the floor and gently placed it on the table. The skull started to laugh again and Remus silenced it with his wand “You planned this, didn’t you?”

Remus shook his head, and you answered “We just took advantage of the opportunity to test them. Rem and I’ve been working on them for a while.”

“Them?” He looked at the bag wearily “How many did you make?”

“About a dozen,” Remus answered casually. You opened the bag again, and you carefully took the skulls out. You then handed them to the boys, who started to place them all over the common room, one near the sofa, one close to the fireplace, some over at the stairs, and in general, just spread out in rather inconvenient places, the kind of places that would have people jumping from their skin when they started screaming at them. Sirius decided it would be a good idea to have one floating over the fruit punch, and he placed it in the bowl before adding the fruit juice. You saw him take a bottle of rum out too, and pour about a quarter of it onto the drink.

You shook your head, a little smile playing on your lips as he did “Why not add a bit more?” you teased.

“Sirius!” Remus admonished him. “What did we say about adding alcohol to the main beverage? Last year it was chaos!”

“It was only a little bit,” he retorted, and then turned to you “Barely a trickle, right Statshine?”

You nodded “Not even a quarter of a bottle.” Remus shook his head, looking at both of you disapprovingly. “Come on Rem,” you said persuasively “let’s leave it like that, you don’t want to throw out such a good punch do you.”

“She’s right, Moons, come on,” Sirius said, now he was standing next to you, both looking at the taller boy with puppy eyes.

Remus looked at the two, both so pretty trying to convince him to do something, he almost couldn’t think of anything else. In fact, he wasn’t sure there was anything in the world you’d ask of him that he would deny, not with that expression on your faces. He took a deep breath, trying not to focus on the fact that he had somehow developed a crush not only on his best friend (which he had been pretty aware of already) but on his girlfriend as well, “Just so you know, I still don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Both you and Sirius smiled broadly, looking at each other and throwing a high-five between yourselves. “You’re the best Rem!” You told with a dashing smile and then you walked back, pulling the bag up.

“There’s more?” Sirius asked Remus, he shrugged in response, he didn’t know.

Slowly, you pulled out a whole skeleton from it. “What the hell?!?” Asked Remus surprised, “You didn’t tell me you also had one of those…”

“I didn’t have it, I found it.” You told him “It was in one of the old classrooms on the 3rd floor.”

“Is it… real?” Remus asked cautiously.

“Didn’t ask him,” you responded with a shrug while looking at the skeleton. Remus raised his eyebrows, amused at your answer.

And a diverted smile appeared on Sirius' lips before he asked. “Did you charm it as well?”

You ginned “‘Course I did! Who do you take me for? I’ve got a whole plan for it.”

“And where are you going to place it?” Remus asked, from next to you now as he curiously looked at the skeleton.

You turned your body a little, shifting the weight of the skeleton onto one of your arms, and pointed at a wardrobe in the far side of the room.

“In the closet?” The taller boy asked in disbelief “You’re going to put the skeleton in the closet?”

“It’s a joke in and of itself,” you said with a smile “every now and then the skeleton will drop smoke or random sounds, that way guests are inclined to investigate. And then boom, the skeleton in the closet will jump out and scare the shit out of them.”

“That’s wicked…” Said Sirius, a smirk playing on his lips “See Moony? I told you she was like us!”

“I was certain when you told me about the day of the library,” Remus said simply.

You looked at Sirius, eyes wide in shock “You told Remus about the library?”

“Of course I did, your Howler was genius!” Sirius responded matter-of-factly.

“Certainly,” Remus agreed.

Right, the Howler, he told them about the Howler, not about the snoging. “It was just, a spur-of-the-moment idea?” You said, tugging in a hair behind your ear shyly as you walked towards the wardrobe with the skeleton –Steve– as you’d named him. You knew how seriously the boys took their jokes and escapades, if Sirius and Remus were complimenting you on something, they weren’t just sweet-talking you. You slowly but surely accommodated Steve inside the wardrobe and closed the doors.

“What are we missing?” Asked Remus as he looked around the common room, trying to get a look at the big picture.

“Marlene’s still coming with her smoke potions, right? Spooky music? Maybe…”

“Got that taken care of,” Sirius said, and waved his wand, on the corner, a small violin, a flute and what looked like a piano started playing music.

You were surprised “where did you get those?”

“Stole them from the music room last year,” Sirius explained “It was a dare to prove to James that Remus was way stealthier than him, even if he’s taller.”

You nodded, a little impressed, you then heard the portrait open, Beth and Tom walked inside with bags filled with candy; from slug worms to dancing skeletons, all the Halloween theme candies from Honeydukes were there. Tom walked all the way to the table with the punch and emptied his backpack there. Beth, on the other hand, started to neatly arrange the candies she’d gotten into different vases and floating trays, she ended up also taking the stuff Tom had dumped and finished decorating the sweet’s table, as she’d prompted everyone to call it that from then on.

“You guys did a brilliant job,” Tom said as he looked around in awe, there were spider webs coming from the ceiling, shiny black and orange streamers swirling in the air, black flamed candles levitating all over the ceiling, cauldrons filled with candies. The skulls you and Remus had charmed together still lurking on certain spots, a table filled with potions, “for potion pong,” as Beth had told you, and overall, an eerie but fun atmosphere. You had even told Moaning Myrtle and Richard Jackdaw to come over as special guests, even if you warned them not to tell any other ghosts about the party, especially Peeves, who would definitely attempt to make some kind of prank, or tell the teachers about your shenanigans. Suddenly he tilted his head. “Do hear that?” He asked.

Beth frowned “Hear what?”

“It’s uh… coming from…” Tom started walking towards the wardrobe. You threw a look at the boys, Sirius held your stare with his icy grey eyes, the hint of a smirk drawing on his lips. When you turned to Remus, he was also looking at you attentively, eyebrows raised, clearly looking amused.

As you exchanged glances with the boys Tom approached the wardrobe “None of you hear it?”

You shook your head, it wasn’t a lie, the spell only worked for one person at a time, so really, not even Beth would hear the same thing Tom did. Tom was now right in front of the closet, and he hesitantly placed his hands on the handle, like he was considering whether he should open it or leave it alone. But Tom was curious, almost too curious for his own good and in a fast pull, he opened the door.

The skull jumped out and clang onto Tom, eyes glowing a shade of green and screaming so loud even you winced, perhaps I overdid it, you thought. Tom screeched, jumped back and ended up on the floor, fighting to get the skeleton to unwrap its bony arms off his shoulders. When he finally did it, he threw it to the side and crawled away from it while looking at it with dread. He stayed there, panting as Steve finally shut its bony jaw, the screams and shrieks slowly dying out.

Everyone started to laugh, including Beth, who had been just a little scared at the beginning. Still with his eyes open wide, Tom turned back, a slight frown on his face as he turned to Sirius “What the fuck mate?! That was bIoody horrifying, what did I ever do to you?”

Sirius raised his hands and shrugged, “That wasn’t my prank.”

Tom’s frown deepened and he turned to Remus “It was you?” He asked again, still trying to gain his breath. Remus shook his head as a reply, there was no way it’d been James or Peter, Tom knew they’d be pretty busy today so he slowly turned his head to you, almost unsure “(Y/N)?”

You took a deep breath, raising your shoulders, lips tightened in a line before, letting a bit of a smile appear. Guilty, you looked guilty. “I see you’ve met Steve.”

“You gave that horrid thing a name?” You shrugged, nodding your head as an answer. He sighed “Why me?”

“Oh, that’s on Steve, he chooses the person he calls, not me.”

“You put a randomizer spell on it?” Remus asked then, surprised. You nodded “How? I’ve been trying to master those for a while…” he said, walking closer to the skeleton.

“I found it on The Refined Art of Mild Hexes, it’s somewhere on the first couple of pages,” you told him, and then started waking towards Tom and helped him up “Sorry bout that,” you said, giving the curly haired boy a light pat on the back, he just stared at you, squinting his eyes in distrust, he then scoffed, shaking his head as he looked at the skeleton on the ground.

“Looks bIoody realistic,” he said, the edges of his lips finally curling into a little smile.

“Yeah, Remus thought the same, and asked me if it was real.”

He turned back to you, a slightly concerned expression on his face “Well… Is it?”

“She’d got no clue,” Sirius answered for you.

You nodded in agreement “Found it lying around in an abandoned classroom.”

“And you just took it? What it if was a ghost’s or something?”

You shook your head “I asked Richie Jackdow, and he said it didn’t belong to any of the ghosts in the castle.”

“You really have gotten accustomed to Hogwarts, haven’t you?”

You smiled “I guess you could say I have.”

The portrait opened itself again, and Mary and Marlene came inside. Marlene carrying a tray with potions and Mary with some more treats, this time saltier stuff from the kitchen. “I brought the fruit for the punch,” she said as she walked towards the sweet’s table.

“Great, you guys prepare that, Sly sprite,” he said turning to you “You’re helping me with this,” he said pointing to his canines, he’d asked you to turn them into fangs earlier that week, when the party was being planned, you’d both found a spell that would be useful, and had decided it’d be the one you’d use.

“I think I left the book in my backpack,” you said as the two of you walked towards a further away table.

“Sly sprite,” Sirius scoffed, he was standing next to Remus.

The taller boy raises his eyebrow “You jealous?” he teased.

“Of Tom?! No way!”

“Why not?” Remus asked and turned to you and Tom at the table where you’d left your backpack, you had one hand on the book and the other on your wand, Tom was staring at you attentively “Tom’s handsome, maybe just as handsome as you.”

Sirius frowned, “You’re not helping,” he added flatly.

Remus knew very damn well you had no interest in Tom, but he was enjoying himself while looking at a jealous Sirius, thinking back of all the times he’d been jealous himself. “I’m just saying… he’s charming, comes from a wealthy family, and his curls are really nice.”

“Remus!” Sirius whined, turning his back to look at the hazel-eyed boy instead of at you since you already had both of your hands on Tom’s face as you pulled it back to check on his canines.

“Do you know what this is for?” Asked Mary, taking a potion bottle with a golden cap. Remus shrugged.

“Must be the sugar syrup for the punch,” Beth said “I asked Peter to bring it over in the morning.”

Mary looked at it, swirled the liquid around inside the bottle, and uncapped it. She gave it a whiff and shrugged, it certainly smelled sweet enough. She didn’t think it twice, and dumped the entirety of the contents inside the punch, then grabbed the bottle and placed it on the potions table, since it fit the aesthetic.

Meanwhile, you and Tom were still working on his fangs, “Stop moving for fucks sake,” you complained, as Tom looked at himself in the hand mirror he took from your bag.

“But make them longer, yeah luv?” He answered, his voice already had a little lisp from the fangs.

“They’ve got a great length Tom, you won’t be able to eat!”

“Food doesn’t matter, aesthetics do!”

You sighed, “Don’t dare come whine with me if you cannot eat.”

“I swear I won’t Sly Sprite,” he said while placing his right hand over his heart. It made you wonder: If both Sirius and Tom entered a drama contest, would they tie? Eventually, you nodded and performed the spell again, grabbing the mirror and placing it in front of Tom’s face. He smiled, checking himself out as he slid his tongue under the fangs and winched at how sharp they were. You gave him an “I told you so” look, but he just shook his head. “Aesthetics (Y/N), aesthetics!”

You just rolled your eyes and started to stand up but he stopped you by grabbing your arm “Hold up! Man liner!”

“Man liner?” You asked with a frown.

“Yes! Eyeliner for men, like rock stars! Would you mind doing it for me?” He then looked through the pockets and pulled out an eyeliner pencil.

You shrugged and nodded, taking the pencil from his hand, and leaning closer to Tom’s face, “Don’t move, all right?” He nodded and you started to line his water line. Softly gliding the pencil. When you were about to finish the first eye you felt someone looming behind you. When you turned you realised it was just Sirius, and you gave him a quick smile before going to line Tom’s second eye.

Sirius was attentively looking at you as you lined Tom’s eye, both curious at the way you did it and also pretty jealous of how close you were to the other boy. Which prompted him to walk even closer. Once you were done you smiled and pulled away from Tom “There you go Mr. Vampire.”

“Brilliant!” He said, placing both hands on your shoulder “Thank you Sly Sprite!”

Sirius cleared his throat from behind “Mind if I borrow my girlfriend away for a minute.”

Tom, being as oblivious and carefree as he was, nodded with a smile “I’m actually going to go change.”

Once Tom was gone, you turned to Sirius with a quizzical expression “What was that about?”

Sirius, who had spoken without thinking, was taken aback by your question “I… uh— Can you line my eyes too?” He improvised.

You frowned, “What are you dressing as?”

He was about to open his mouth, but shut it before he could speak. “What are you going to dress up as?”

“Oh… that’s right. You haven’t guessed. You get 3 more tries,” you told him playfully, as you placed your hand on his shoulder, guiding him to sit on the same chair Tom had been in.

He sat there and looked up at you, your breath got stuck in your throat, how was it possible for a boy to be this pretty? You leaned in closer, a lot closer than you had been to Tom, which made Sirius feel a lot better already. “Look up at me, All right?” You told him softly. He did, and you swore you felt your legs wobble, but you took a deep breath and while holding his chin with one hand, you gently placed your other hand on his cheek, to stabilise it while you lined his eyes. You were a lot more careful than you’d been with Tom. Softer, taking a lot longer to drag the eye pencil under his lower lashes. You honestly enjoyed being close to Sirius, more than you’d ever dare to admit to his face, especially since it’d go straight to his head, feeding his already pretty big ego.

“Are you gonna be a mermaid?”

“No, I’m not.” You replied and continued with your task.

“What about a princess? You certainly fit the look.”

“Puppy stop moving!” You reprimanded, as a blush threatened to spread on your cheeks, “And no, I’m not going to be a princess, that’s two tries out of three.” He huffed, he really wanted to win the bet “What about you? Are you gonna be a rockstar?”

“Nope.” He responded, “3 tries for you too.”

You leaned in a little closer, narrowing your eyes as you tried to be as accurate as possible, “Will you come as a prince? It’s also something that would suit you.”

He shook his head “I’m letting James take the spotlight with the mediaeval clothes… You think I look like a prince?” He asked, a little smirk playing on his lips.

You rolled your eyes, “Everyone thinks you look like a prince, Sirius.”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure you just said you think I look like a prince.”

You playfully hit his shoulder before going to the other eye. Almost losing yourself in the frosty blue of them before focusing on your task again. Sirius was still looking at you attentively as you continued to paint his waterline. “Aren’t you gonna try and guess again?”

“I’ve only got one try left.”

“And you’re not planning to use it?”

“I am… just– I want to… think it thoroughly.”

“You know, you could just tell me whatever your wish is.”

“It wouldn’t be the same thing,” he retorted. “You should also do Remus’ man liner since he’s going to be a pirate.”

“I’m not sure he’d like it…” you said, a little insecure about it.

“I think he would, we should tell him,” he said, very sure of himself. “Hey, Remus!”

“Mmmm?” the mentioned boy asked from the sofa, where he was arranging some more cauldrons filled with treats.

“Come over! Will ya?”

Remus turned to the boy, gave him a look like he did not want to move, but stood up and walked up to the two of you.

“You’re up next,” Sirius informed him.

“For what?”

“(Y/N) is doing your manliner.”

“If you want to…” you added. Finally separating from Sirius since you had finished, smiling at how handsome your boyfriend looked.

“It’s for your costume.” Sirius said, “It won’t be finished without it.” He then stood up and placed Remus right on the chair in front of yours.

Remus just took a deep breath as he stared at his friend, before turning to look at you, expectantly.

“You sure you’re ok with it?” You asked, with a little frown. There it was again, the concern and care you always seemed to show Remus, the same concern and care that had his heart fluttering from how close you were standing to him. From how close both Sirius and you were to him, in fact.

He cleared his throat and nodded, and you leaned closer to him, grabbing his face just as carefully as you had grabbed Sirius’. His skin was a lot softer than you’d imagined, you unintentionally brushed your fingers over one of his scars, but Remus didn’t flinch, which surprised him, since he usually detested when people did it. In fact, he remembered a particular time when he was making out with a boy and he snapped at him for touching his face.

“Look up at me Rem,” you told him softly, he complied, looking at you through his lashes, Sirius was right next to you, Remus could see his satisfied expression from the corner of his eyes. You finally leaned in, and started to glide the pencil over his lower lashes. You somehow ended up focusing on his eyes, how they had these little specks of amber tones in them, they were bigger, and somewhat softer than Sirius’, very doe-like, in fact. “Tell me if it hurts,” you added later. Remus was nothing like Sirius, the latter would make a fuzz if you pricked him on the eye accidentally. Remus, on the other hand, he’d probably endure it without even wincing. He nodded, and you had to quickly pull the eye pencil away from his face. “But don’t move!” you admonished, grabbing his face a little more sternly now.

“M’sorry,” he mumbled.

“What do you think (Y/N)’s costume’s gonna be?” Sirius, who was still very close to the two of you, attentively watching the way you lined Remus’ waterline, asked. He seemed pretty content, falling to notice you were standing so much closer to Remus than you had been to Tom.

“You haven’t guessed yet?” Remus asked, a diverted smile playing on his lips “That’s unfortunate for you.”

“MOONY!” He whined, “I asked you to help me choose, not to make fun of me.” Remus shrugged. “She said she’s not gonna be a princess, or a mermaid, also not an alien, or an astronaut, from what I asked yesterday. Mmmm.. and she also said she wasn’t dressing as a superhero, though I’m sure she’d look great as Wonder Woman.”

“Who would’ve thought Sirius would be into costumes…” you teased. Remus instantly chuckled, but it took a little longer for Sirius to understand the joke.

“Hey! I’m not– I– I just want my prize!”

“Well then guess by yourself, If Remus guesses for you, he gets your prize.”

Sirius gasped “You wouldn’t.”

“I so would,” you teased again. Then pulled back from Remus “There we go,” you smiled at your work, slowly letting your fingers glide over his skin as you pulled them away from his face, Remus really did work that man liner out.

“Damn, mate!” Sirius said as Remus stood, looking up at him “You look absolutely dashing, and you don’t even have the rest of your costume on.”

“He’s right,” you nodded “Remus’ getting bitches tonight.”

Remus gave you a reproachful look, but nodded, “I think everything’s pretty much handled already.”

You saw Tom walk down from the stairs in a puffy shirt and a dark green vest. He’d brushed his curls back, only one gently falling on his forehead, he was definitely working that vampire costume.

You approached him quickly “Tom! It’s brilliant you’re ready. Deal with everything while we go change, yeah?”

He nodded, and then smiled mischievously. “I’ll go find the potion, I probably left it somewhere when I dropped all the candies on Beth’s Sweets Table.”

You raised your eyebrows “Just don’t down it all in one go. Save some for the rest of us.” He winked as an answer. “Tom’s taking care of this, we can go change,” You said, turning to Remus and Sirius, who were just a couple steps behind you.

Sirius approached Tom first, and handed the eyeliner over “Your eyeliner.” He said icily.

“Thanks for borrowing it,” Remus added politely afterwards, feeling like he wanted to punch Sirius for being such an idiot to Tom. You clearly weren’t interested in the boy, in fact, anyone would tell him how head over heels you were for him, but he had such a thick head he dared to be jealous. Maybe it was from how much hair he had.

Tom, being Tom, just smiled, almost mischievously. “No problem, you both look smashing, by the way…” He then eyed the taller boy up and down “Remus,” he said with a nod, before walking away to the centre of the room.

You frowned slightly at the exchange, remembering Tom’s words: “You’d be surprised, most of them hide it quite well though, you wouldn’t expect it.” Would it be possible that Remus was also-

You felt a hand press to the small of your back, “let’s go, love,” Sirius said, as he pushed you up the stairs.

“Uh.. yeah sure,” you said, allowing Sirius to guide you, turning your head back towards the front.

“Are you gonna be a lady knight?” He asked as you walked up the spiral staircase, Remus trailing behind just a little.

You shook your head “But that would’ve been a brilliant idea!”

“Well, you’d certainly look great in silver armour,” He replied with a little smirk. You playfully shoved him off as you rolled your eyes.

“Will you be… a prisoner from Azkaban?”

“I would look great in those white and blue stripes, wouldn’t I?” He teased confidently “But no… I’m not gonna be that!”

You sighed “We both lose then. What was your wish?”

“I’ll tell you later,” he said with a wink. Eventually, you parted ways, waving a hand as the boys walked toward their rooms while you walked to yours.

Series Masterlist | The Interlude | Next Chapter

TAGLIST: @rayrlupin @callmelovergirl @warcelia @ireneop @endversewinchester @moonyunebi @smuttysluttybitch @mazzymoons @drugs-for-memes @sofiacblair @vmpir3lvr @remuslupinisbae @rabluver @willgrahamisalesbi4n @thatobsessedreader @orkwardx0 @itskailey24 @hell0-kittie @belovedmoony @blacksgarden @loving-and-dreaming @cassie-love20 @starchaser-lily @zucchini-queenie @springflwer07 @sseleniaa @cometsghost @orkwardx0 @imdoingbetternow @sbrewer21 @remuslupinsbae @maxinehufflepuffprincess @wifiatthetrainstation @unstablereader @mablacklupin @oliversaurus

Leve a comment telling me if you wanna be tagged on Gilded Constellations

Want to support me? Like and reblog this post (reblogs are extra nice since they help me get my work to more people), also guys, I absolutely love reading your comments, so do throw them my way if you have any!

Raead more Marauders Fiction

222 notes · View notes

jo-harrington · 3 months

Text

Unsolved (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Pairing: Kas(?)Eddie MunsonxSupernatural!Reader

Summary: It’s their job to meddle with the unknown, and it’s your job to fix it.

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings/Themes: Supernatural experiences, unseen demonic entity, angst, fluff towards the end possible? Hurt/Comfort, Open-Ended Ending (ask me if I’ll come back to this in a year)

Note: OK this idea has been in my head for a while, but I had no motivation or vehicle to write it so thank you @bettyfrommars @allthingsjoeq and @somnambulic-thing for your Stranger Prompts event. Because I got to fuck around with this idea. No intention to make it longer than this but maybe someday; it was fun regardless.

So for your enjoyment, please enjoy my take on Prompt #13: You're switching stations on your radio when you pick up the signal of someone on a Walkie Talkie. They say they're in trouble and give their location.

You can find more on my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

Nighttime. Darkness.

"There is it, you ready?"

The spirit box oscillates through channels.

"Can you hear us? Kas?"

Garbled speech, the sound of wings, and then the shrill crescendo of a guitar.

"Of course they're up to no good, they're cultists."

The flashlights flicker, then die, and someone screams.

"Join us on the next part of our ongoing investigation into the question: are ghosts real?"

Hawkins, Indiana - October 2018

Your boots crunch on gravel and dead leaves as you step out of your car and take in your surroundings.

You’re in the middle of a country road, surrounded by a forest; you passed a vast cornfield just a few minutes ago, and you know instinctually that there’s another farm ahead. It's as unassuming as most of the midwest is.

You know better though.

You've been called here.

Not by phone or letter, but in the way dark calls to dark. Now that you’re here though, you yearn for a chance to taste it. To possess it.

You spend most of your days alone and in silence, as bleak of an existence as you'd ever heard, but it's safe and it's yours. Painfully lonely, hermit by chance, not necessarily by choice, but you know it’s for the best. Better lay low until something greater than you rips through the fabric of reality to demand your action, as it did the other day.

Your television had turned on of its own volition and you watched two idiotic and painfully mortal boys fuck with something beyond their understanding, as they disturbed something that was better left alone.

Hawkins.

You'd knew of it, heard of it. Knew to leave it alone.

Something had happened here, something forgotten. Forbidden. There were phantom scars in the earth itself, but the wounds that left those scars didn't exist. They never existed. It was almost like nothing ever happened, like someone turned back the clock to prevent said nothing from ever happening in the first place.

Idiots.

There were rules to those kinds of things. Even you didn’t know them all and you were most likely to die long before you could.

Fucking with time was a delicate practice, and if one wasn't careful, some things would inevitably get left behind. Like a child's chalk that got left between cracks in the sidewalk after an afternoon of play. Little remnants of times forgotten—times abandoned—meals left uneaten on tables, houses built on the graves of people who'd never even existed.

Vans left abandoned on the sides of roads by someone that seemingly never owned a van, and plates that had never been registered with the state of Indiana.

You'd watched the boys play with their little instruments, fuck with powers they didn't understand, and wake something that was meant to be dormant. As the episode ended with them leaving their broken toys behind and your television screen went dark, you felt the call to action.

The need to go and fix what had been disturbed.

The need to pull whatever darkness that bled through the curtain of reality into this world fully.

Just like you’d been pulled through once upon a time.

You’d been chosen for this for a reason.

What would await you this time?

"Alright," you mutter to your master, its presence simmering beneath the frequency of this reality to ensure you didn’t fail. "I'm here. Let's get this over with."

You don't have far to walk before you see the van, but suddenly your surroundings transition from the bright peak of afternoon to the hazy darkness of dusk.

It’s disturbing but these things happen the easiest under cover of night. So you’re grateful for whatever wicked curse hangs over these woods.

The mortal boys on the television arrived to their destination at night, so you'd only seen the vague idea of a van through their green glowing infrared recording, but in person it is much more unsettling.

It sits forgotten amongst a thicket of trees and aside from the places where Ryan and Shane disturbed it, nature has decided the hunkering beast of a vehicle belongs to it. Rust eats away at vulnerable corners, moss and leaves and a thick coating of pollen layer the body, and overgrown roots wind around the wind around the tires, rendering it inert.

A thick branch has pierced the windshield, and as you pace the perimeter of the van, you see it's impaled the drivers seat too.

You're about to reach out to touch it, almost compelled to, when your boot crunches on something.

Your eyes slide in their sockets languidly, down, until they hone in on the object of intrusion.

A radio.

"Spirit box," you whisper into the dead air.

You don't deny yourself the morbid curiosity; that's why you're there, right? To put an end to this so the disturbance is eliminated for good? So no one fucks with it again and makes it worse? You'd have to start in one way or another; it might as well be this way.

The plastic case is cracked from the boys desperate getaway, but as you fiddle with buttons and knobs, the LED screen turns on, and there is a startling crackle of static that shaves a year off your life.

“Shit,” you curse. You’re usually not this jumpy. But there is a heavy anticipation hanging around you.

Another button is pressed and the device begins its rapid-paced oscillation through one radio frequency to the next. You catch faint snippets of commercials and shock jocks and jingles, but nothing discernible.

"Is there anyone there?" you say aloud, parroting what you'd heard on the television, and you waited.

"Hey," comes the warped speech over the din of the channels flipping. You flinch and curse once more. You resolve not to show such weakness again. "Didn't...t'scare...you."

"You didn't scare me." It's true. Just startled. "There are far scarier things out there."

Your master is one of them.

"Monsters…here too.”

“I’m sure,” you mutter. "And where is that?"

No answer.

"Where are you?" you clarify.

"Upside." There's a pause and the spirit box warbles and crackles. "Down."

You think back to the Unsolved episode, the interviews, flashes of images as they explored around Hawkins, the spray painted side of a church: Cult of Kas. Lord of the uʍop ǝpᴉsd∩.

There is a brief triumphant feeling inside of you that you'd found the right spirit, the right moment. This will be over soon. There is a reason your master prefers you over the others.

"Are you Kas?" you continue, fueled by your hubris. "Kas? Do you know who that is?"

There's no answer, and that confidence disappears.

A name. Your master hisses right below your conscious thought. It's in a name.

You feel a sense of brief annoyance thrum through you now, either your master's annoyance with you, or yours with it. It's cloying, and you can feel it permeate from you like a death rattle as you continue your task.

"What's your name?"

There's a beat.

You wait.

It needs to work this time, otherwise you'll--

"Eddie."

Eddie?

"Eddie...Munson."

Just like the supposed owner of the van? The man that Ryan and Shane interviewed before their excursion to this cursed place. Surely not the 50-something tow truck driver that said vans weren’t his thing in the 80’s, that he only ever wanted a motorcycle.

There's an instinctual hitch in your brow as you contemplate the implications of an Eddie Munson here...and an Eddie Munson there.

Then again, you were someone somewhere at some point. Now you were here and you were somewhere else. And the you that you had been and the you that you were now coexisted beautifully.

That was your master's vision after all and, you assume, is the reason you've been led to Hawkins. History repeats itself. Like calls to like.

Suddenly there's a crackling, roaring crash that transcends every oscillating channel. It is the only broadcast now.

"Help, please help me." Eddie's plea is steady and clear. "It's here. It found me."

And you don't hesitate. Because those same words came from your mouth once, before you were saved.

The spirit box is forgotten but still clenched in your hand as you reach out and touch the branch that broke through the windshield, and from there, the cold metal of the van itself.

And you see.

A man and a monster, a rift, a creature. A bat, a bat, and a bite.

You see everything that never happened, happen. Everything done, then undone. You see the rift being created and this remnant—man and van alike—left over in a nether space that tied the two worlds together.

There’s a screech of a guitar over the spirit box now, different than the choppy messages or the fearful pleas that have come through already. It's a broadcast that steadily increases in speed and volume.

A rapid crescendo of fingers pounding on frets and plucking at strings. You can feel an ache in your teeth as if you were gritting yours together, and maybe you are as you try to hold on to an entire world that both existed in its own right and never existed at all.

Hold onto it. Open a door to it.

The van begins to burn.

The cold metal starts to glow--orange and hot like the flame of a candle--beneath your touch and slowly the glow spreads until the entire van is engulfed.

You hold on until you simply no longer can; where your control ends, your master's begins, and your visceral need to save this poor soul now becomes curiosity. What does this Eddie Munson that's about to emerge from the void look like? His name might not have been Kas...but was he a monster?

If he wasn't already, he'd be one soon enough.

The form of the van breaks and embers begin to flake off; the shape of this portal changes from a hulking thing to something much more refined. Legs and arms and wings.

Your heart stops in your chest with anticipation for a moment.

Would you have some glorious nightmare to ferry through a brave new world after all?

But soon the wings seem to burn away leaving nothing but the glowing form of a man and you try to stifle your disappointment.

Nothing fun ever happens to you.

This is the moment, you feel it linger and simmer just beneath the surface of reality. Your master and Eddie coming to a decision together, whether they realize it or not. It is a sight to behold and one you can barely remember when it happened to you, when you were given the choice to accept this fate or die.

You feel your hand instinctually crush the spirit box as the burning glow dissipates, the final connection to this displaced realm severed as a decision is made. As this being finally comes into being once again, as his hands continue to move up and down the strings of a guitar that is no longer strapped to him and would never be ever again.

He falls to his knees once the final bit of fire burn out, and once he realizes that he's alive, he pats his hands down his arms and legs and torso. He lifts his shirt and inspects swaths of skin, fingers scratching at, what you're sure are, phantom wounds.

"You're alright," you tell him and he startles as he notices you. "You're alright."

"What happened?" he asks rapidly. "O-one second I was, and then...Henderson..."

He frantically observes your surroundings, the trees, the leaves. It doesn’t seem like he knows what’s happened to him.

Interesting, you'd never seen that happen before. Even you had been painfully aware of your…departure. Arrival. Whatever it had been.

"Henderson! Dustin!" he yells as he tries to get to his feet, but his body is weak from being stuck in that perpetual time loop--an eternity that he's had to experience in the span of possibly a few minutes--and he falls to his knees again.

You hold your hands out to show that you mean him no harm and you close the distance. He is grateful to accept the help from you as he rests his weary form against yours, but he continues to asks questions.

"Where'd they go? Where are my friends? The bats? Vecna? Where are they? Where am I?"

"You're safe," you assure him. "For now, that's all that matters."

You try to keep him calm, try to answer his questions.

Fuck, but is he chatty though. This is the most you’ve interacted with another living being in a long time, the most you’d spoken in years.

You briefly consider killing him if he doesn't stop with his frantic whining and explanation of a Chrissy and a Hellfire and a Henderson. But then his hand clutches yours and there's a pause to your fragile patience and his frantic worry; there's a warmth that singes the lifelines as your palm rests against his.

No, he belongs here. With you? Possibly. For what, purpose? You cant be sure quite yet. All will be revealed in time.

The disturbance is resolved. But something still lingers, unsolved. Your master looms for reasons unknown, and the anticipation is unsettling.

You feel the shuddering breath shake through his form as he panics, finally feeling the external presence, but you calm him.

You school your face into the gentlest expression you can and he clutches your hand tightly, clinging to the comforting warmth.

"Eddie Munson." You try to smile and his eyes soften. "Welcome to the future."

Tagging @deathbecomesthem because this definitely falls in line with their Estate Sale fic, so if you enjoyed this, please go check that out as well.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie Munson angst #strangerprompts #Stranger things fic

129 notes · View notes

macsimagines · 8 months

Note

👉👈 I know you mentioned getting asks with similar themes but I can’t help but ask for more because god damn is the angst just… -chefs kiss-

Can the girlies (and by girlies I mean me 😔) get that Kanto!Mikey, Shion, and baby boy Shinichiro headcanons about their s/o trying to leave them because their s/o doesn’t feel good enough?

I swear I’ll give you a better idea someday 😭😭😭.

I did Mikey in a seperate post because his got out of a hand and waaaaaaaaay to big sorry I didn't give these two as much love.

TW: YANDERE BEHAVIOR, MINORS DNI, PHYSICAL VIOLENCE, STALKING, GASLIGHTING???

Yandere!Shion Madarame

He knows you're insecure, and he loves you, he really does, but he uses it to his advantage. Shion is more worried you're going to be scared and try to run, not like he'll ever let you, but still is very worried about what you might try so he does attempt to play into your worries to make you stay.

"I mean, ya, you can be a pain, but I still like you," he tells you after listening to you fret over how maybe he shouldn't be with someone so weak. What he doesn't say is that he wants to protect you, to guard you and love you because you're just too precious to let go.

But then you go and pull some bullshit. You actually try to break it off... "I-I can't do it anymore, Shion. I just know you need someone who can do more for you and I'm not that person..." and you actually walk out on him like that.

Now Shion would sooner tear out his own eyes than ever hurt you, but your 'breakup' isn't sitting well with him. You figured as much when you see him watching staring at you from your apartment window. He even waves.

And it gets worse from there, because now there always seems to be beatings where ever you go. The nice clerk at the corner store you visit regularly ends up being robbed and thrown out of a window, the jogger you pass by and smile to in your neighborhood ends up being jumped with his kneecaps broken, and even your coworker that always brings you coffee has somehow ended up in accident... People are dropping like flys...

Shion pays you a visit one day. He's actually sitting in your apartment when you get off one night. You're already not happy because you just heard an old friend from high school had somehow ended up with a cracked skull...

But you find Shion just sitting at the foot of your bed... With hands caked in drying blood, smiling at you like you just told him he had won a million dollars.

"How many more?" he asks you, "Wh-what? Shion what're you-" "How many more people are in our way, Y/N? Tell me so I can take care of 'em."

Yandere!Shinichiro Sano

Oh how much this one loves you could bring all the greatest of romantics to shame. Too bad he's such a goofball. And honestly, that suits you fine. You two are perfect for each other like that.

You're both playful, a little silly, and you two have fun together. But then you see it. The importance of Shinichiro Sano. Men, powerful men, come to him for guidance and respect his own authority.

That makes you feel so small. You actually can't believe how many influential people he has at his beck and call, the ones that call him a leader. And where could someone, who's a little bit goofy and a lot of bit awkward possibly fit into his world.

You tell him as much and it almost brings him to tears. "You're just... you're so much more than I am-!" "I am nothing without you! How could you even think that!?"

And you two argue like that all the time, back and forth, about how you know he's too important to waste his time, and how you're too important to loose. But boy does he feel like he's loosing you....

"I gave it all up. I don't need that if I don't have you." "You had it before me, you can't just stop being so important." But he isn't important, you make him feel important...

Once, you tried to mention that maybe he could do better and he reached hysterics. It honestly terrified you, not because he was violent but because you saw that he had the potential to be.

Grabbing your arms in his hands with a crushing grip, one you knew could break bones if they really wanted to, and holding you so tight that you couldn't even budge if you wanted to.

"I don't want anyone else!" he had hissed, "I don't need anyone else! This is it! For you and me!" its no longer comforting words but demands of submission now. Like he needs you to top bringing the topic up altogether.

And you do. Not because you want to or because you're suddenly convinced. But because you're too scared now. You've noticed eyes on your everywhere you go, you even tell Shinichiro about it.

"Oh? Him? He worked under me back in the day. Told him to keep an eye out for you." "Wh-what!? Why!?" "Keep you safe. Keep you from doing something stupid."

You figured you're not the only insecure one....

#yandere tokyo revengers #yandere shion madarame #yandere shinichiro sano

230 notes · View notes

shawtythatluvsurgut · 5 months

Text

gunna have a video of me feeding my feedee up on my onlyfans soon. i’m thinking about starting it back up while i take a break from college because it was kind of empowering to get to own my kink in such a way. I also enjoy sharing that side of myself with all of you. subscription price will be between $8-$10/mo since my feedee is going to be collaborating with me on certain pieces of content. i will maybe begin gaining again once i get my health back in check, we’ll see. i want my muscle mommy build back, and to get that back i’ll have to pack on some weight. so we’ll see what happens with that. ;)

in the meantime and between-time, stay safe. especially on the internet. all of my old rules still apply for messaging me, but i will gradually get back to making regular content and posts. now that i am taking a break from school, i’m working more, but I also have free time on my hands when i’m not working. it feels really nice to get back into the swing of things. I’ve missed you all and I’ve missed the positive aspects of this community.

going forward, i’m just going to block people who talk shit to me or delete their comments (unless it’s of actual importance to discuss). i’m just done engaging with that shit. idk, i’m on new medication that seem to be actually working and i feel stable, so i feel ready to re-embrace this community with open arms.

a special thank you to everyone who continued engaging with me and communicating with me during my break. i appreciate all of your kind words more than you know, and if i didn’t respond to you it was because i didn’t want the answer to “hey how are you?” to be “i’m miserable. how are you?”. but I saw all of you - each and every message, comment, text, etc. - and i just want to say thank you. the people who still proceeded to message me with positivity are the reason I have decided I want to come back.

With all that being said, I hope you will all accept me back. I understand that some of you were upset that I left and didn’t understand my reasonings, but I hope we can reconcile our differences and i can gain your trust again. I’m not the angry person that I became when responding to hate messages, and that also influenced my time away. I could see that my demeanor on this hellsite was changing and I was getting more upset, angry and, honestly, afraid of going on here (let alone posting myself on here). However, that has changed. I’ve been working on being more optimistic and caring less about the negative opinions of others. Frankly, if someone doesn’t like me or my content they should just be an adult about it and either reach out to discuss that or ignore me. If they can’t do that, I believe they are childish and need to get a grip. There are some key things I’ve learned in life that I want to share with people who are as I described above:

- your comfort is not someone else’s responsibility. if it makes you uncomfortable, then don’t engage. It’s as simple as that.

- no one has to cater to your interests. everyone lives on their own agenda. your wants and desires do not take priority over the wants and desires of others. sure, there are some people who will cater to your every wish, but i’m definitely not one of them.

- similarly to above, your desires do not take priority over someone’s health. that includes both mental health and physical health. (death feedism is a thing if you are interested in someone wanting to gain while not caring about their health. this is not a death feedism page and i suggest you go search in the tags for that if it is what you are looking for. I do not want to kill my feedee, nor do I want him or I to gain enough weight to become immobile or at risk in any way. As hot as the idea is to me at times, we are both too active and work in active careers for that to be a realistic possibility for us. maybe someday i’ll get a stay at home job and get really big, or maybe someday he will. only time can tell. sorry for the length, i’m high. i’ll stfu now.

- people don’t care. no stranger online owes it to you to care that you don’t like their body, or that you don’t like this or that. it doesn’t matter because that person does not know you. there’s no point in wasting time caring about your negative comment unless it’s actually useful and constructive commentary.

So anyways, i’m back in business again. gonna post some FA art soon + start uploading to my OF again. I thank any of you who read this far and again I hope you can accept me back into the community.

Thanks,

Nico

#female feeder #ffa #nico speaks #i’ve wanted to say this for a while now #and i’m high enough to not fking care anymore #i’m back babey!!1!1!1!!1!1!!!!!1!1!1!!!!

78 notes · View notes

dozing-marshmallow · 9 months

Note

i absolutely loved how you wrote my previous request! (them headcanons had me giggling and swinging my feet) soooooooo im back with another request! (if thats alright w chu of course) how about some jealous chris headcanons? maybe with a reader that points out attractive people a lot, like "oh damn he's kind of hot" "she's really pretty" (i realized i do this a lot so thought it might be a fun request)

Awwww I replied to your comment on that post, thank you so much for your kind words❤️!! I’m so happy I was able to provide headcanons that you loved and thoroughly enjoyed! I hope you feel the same with this one! :]

And not a problem! I can definitely assure you this was a fun request to write for!

JEALOUS CHRIS MCLEAN HEADCANONS

Chris Chris Chris.

What he wouldn’t give to be the sun of your life.

It depends on who you interact with and what you’re talking about, but most of the time he’ll tighten the grip he has on your hand or shift so close, his stubble would rub on you.

“(Y/N)... You still love me, right?” He’d ask, voice muffled from his face down on his bed.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

He lifts his head up, looking straight at the wall,“I...just have this aching feeling.” clutching a pillow to his chest, his doubt oozing from his lips,“Every time I see you talking to other people, I always feel like eventually you might think they’re much cooler...than me...and leave me...and I’ll be alone...”

“Aww Chris.” You came over to kiss him,“I would never do that to you. You know there’s no one else like you, and you’re cool the way you are.”

He wants to believe you, but his doubt worsens when you both get invited to the Oscars as guests where you’re in a room of nothing, but other superstars.

“Hey Chris... Who’s that over that?”

He sees you’re interested. So, for obvious reasons, he’s remains completely vague,“That’s the lead star for that upcoming movie.”

“No way! Savannah Michael in Nightly Guitar?” So much for that,“I never realised how attractive she was!”

“Yeaah... Not more attractive than me though, right?” He’d plaster a smile at first. You’ll kiss him and tell him of course and he’d have nothing to worry about!

But you don’t. Instead, you ignored him and dug deeper,“Wow...she has that sparkle in her eyes.”

“Sparkle...? I have that in mine too...” he gently pulls his eyes down, somehow thinking you’d see whatever there was to see better that way. What was the point when you weren’t looking at him?

Instead, you were listening to her answering an interviewer with a sugarsweet answer of gratitude,“The way she cares for her fans is so sweet! I wanna be like her someday.”

That was the final straw. This time he doesn’t try to top it off- he grumbles and pulls you away,“Alright, that’s enough of her.”

“Woah, Chris! I still wanted to see her!”

“No! You’re supposed to be with me! I’m supposed to be your boyfriend.”

You sighed,“Chris, can’t I admire someone without liking them? Not everything is about you.”

You appeared to read his jealousy as simple annoyance that you weren’t glorifying him twenty four seven...which might have been the case too.

So Chris decided to show you he can be as sweet, in case some mutant hunk tries seducing you with flattery and care, you would already be used to it from him. No receiving the prickly end of his treatment for you!

But then, you’re gone. He looks around: you were at the other side of the room.

What were you doing over there? He makes his way to you,“Heyy (Y/N)!”

“Oh, Chris, hi! Whatcha doing?” You chirp.

From where he found you from, he didn’t get the full picture that you were in the middle of talking to someone. That someone? Daniel McNally.

He shuddered...similar last name? No biggie...

“I was just about to ask! How come you didn’t tell me you were going to speak to the uh, awesome Daniel?” He queried through sucking teeth,“He’s not bothering you, is he?”

“Oh, no! I knew he was going to be here tonight so I wanted to ask about some of his movies! I did tell you, but I must’ve said it as I was going over to him. Was there something you needed?”

Dang it,“I see... Well, now that I’m here, I’d love to hear more about it, and maybe try contribute to this civilised conversation.” He glares at Daniel in the eyes, but kept his tone the same,“That alright with you, (Y/N)?”

You kiss him on the cheek,“You’re always welcome!”

He saw the annoyance flash in Daniel’s eyes, and winked in response.

Well. He grew increasingly bored with the conversation- saying that though would lose his reason to be close to you, so he stuck to nodding.

“Woaah, getting a bit too close there, buddy. Be careful, it’s not guy code to go after someone else’s partner.”

“Chris?” That caught you off guard. He wasn’t even standing close! You grab his hand and pull him away into a space empty enough for a private talk,“Alright, what’s the matter with you? Why did you assume he’s trying to move to me?”

“Assume? No no no. I know he is. I see the way he’s looking at you, how he’s trying to impress you. And I don’t appreciate it.”

You don’t believe him,“Chris, you talk and boost to your admirers every chance you get and you don’t hear me complaining.”

“That’s different!”

“How?”

“I’m making it clear that we’re exclusive.”

“Yeah and clearly he knew that, before you came...” you fold your arms, slightly unhappy,“This is sounding more like you don’t trust me enough to have a civilised conversation.”

By reusing his words, you cause his focus to shift away,“Chris.”

“You can’t blame me, okay? A cold hearted guy like me doesn’t deserve the warmth of a reincarnated sunflower... I guess I wanted some reassurance that you still love me the way I do you is all.”

“Is that seriously what this has been about?” You shake your head in dubiety. You don’t know what to say. Out of all the days to be jealous.

“Do you think...we could leave early? Pleaaaase?” He tightened his arm around you.

Shameless man. You sigh. That seems to be the only thing that’d make him feel better so you comply. You mainly came for the food anyway.

Bonus:

Looking back at it, for someone like Chris to be so worked up about securing his place in someone’s heart, was...adorable. Everything he did that night was just him displaying how proud he was to have you as his significant other, and subsequently how paranoid he was in losing you.

But he did steal one of the only chances you’d get to talk with your idols.

So you decide to do a little payback by pulling that joke on him where people would make a PowerPoint about who they would replace their loved ones with.

He was frowning when you set your laptop in front of him,“(Y/N)...” he must have read the title Guys I would leave my boyfriend for

The corner of your lip curves upwards, pressing forward to the next slide saying “No one.”

“See Chris. I wouldn’t replace you with anyone.”

He breathes out in relief, and starts smiling,“Whoo! That feels good to-“

“Yeah!” You interrupt him to get the punchline in i.e the next slide. Daniel McNally,“Uh...” you dramatise your expression as though you didn’t know how he got there.

The smile Chris had withered away into a quivering mouth,“I knew it...” Oh dear.

Turns out he didn’t know that this was a trend.

Either way, this wasn’t what was meant to happen!,“Chris, no! I-I don’t actually like him nor would ever leave you for him! It’s a prank people are doing! I’m not being serious, you know I would never do that to you!” You started shouting whatever came to your panicked mind, praying that one of those things would have him cured from his tears.

“So...you won’t leave me for him... What about...”

“Nooo, no one!” You pull him into your arms, his sobs wetting your shirt,“I’m sorrrry, it was a joke, I swear! I would never ditch you for another celebrity!”

Ah it feels great to have you hold him this way. :).

#td chris #chris mclean x reader #request #td chris mclean x reader #chris mclean #tdi x reader #total drama chris mclean #total drama island chris #total drama headcanons #tdi

172 notes · View notes

supernaturalscribe67 · 10 months

Text

Just Like Mama Used to Make

Words: 6,178

POV: 1st & 3rd Person

Pairing: John x Son!Reader - Dean/Sam x Brother!Reader [Platonic]

Warning(s): Language, John Winchester, Fluff, Mention of Childhood Trauma, Mention of Death, I think that's it??

Summary: Taking inspiration from his father, the reader starts his very own journal. For his first entry, he recalls some of the memories that shaped him into the hunter that he has become.

Request:

Hello, hope you are having a good day/night

I was wondering if I could request John/Dean/Sam Winchester reaction to having a brother who looks like their mother and picked up hunting like breathing?

@xweirdo101x

A/N: My very first request! It kind of got away from me, but I really hope that I was able to do your request justice. Hope you like it!~

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

Hello

Hey!

Dear Diary

SEPTEMBER 2014

To be honest, I have no idea how to start something like this. I was never one for writing, nor have I been one who can easily express my emotions. I guess I got that trait from the Winchester side of my family. Still, I have thought a lot about Dad’s journal lately. The things that he wrote down. It’s not detailed. It’s nowhere near what it was like growing up with him, but it still provides Dean, Sammy, and me with some information and nostalgia from time to time.

So, I figured ‘Why the Hell not’, I might as well write down some things in my own journal. I’m going to die someday anyway, and I want people to read this and be able to see what my life was like. From the good times that I spent with my family to the bad times when I lost my family. Hell, maybe this journal will get me into a history book someday when someone else discovers the Men of Letters Bunker. Who knows. Maybe I’ll be famous after I die, or perhaps it’s just wishful thinking.

This journal has already turned into a clusterfuck. I don’t even know what to write about. I can’t even think of things to write about. Should I say things about my life? Should I just write down random things I think of throughout the day? I don’t know how to do it. Even when I look at Dad’s journal for inspiration, there’s nothing to inspire in it. A lot of it is notes on how to kill monsters and other stuff is just a bunch of personal bullshit he was going through.

Well, we were all going through it.

I guess I’ll start by writing down some of the memories I’ve had. If I don’t like it, then I’ll throw this journal away and start another one. I don’t want future historians to think of me as some scatterbrained moron, despite what Sammy and Dean say at times. If you’re reading this now, I’m actually the smartest Winchester brother. Don’t believe a thing Sam and Dean say. I’m the brains of the operations and our day-to-day lives. I’ve saved them more times than I could count.

Then again, they’ve probably saved me just as much.

Alright, I’m getting side-tracked. I guess I’ll just start writing.

Should I introduce myself first before I do so?

My name is (Y/N) Winchester. I’m a hunter.

This is my story (God, that was terrible)

AUGUST 1991

I remember the first time I mentioned to my father that I wanted to be a hunter, just like him. I was six years old. Dad didn’t take it very kindly. He yelled, a lot. Screamed sometimes. I never truly understood why he would always get so upset whenever I would ask him to teach me how to hunt.

It wasn’t until I was a man that I understood why.

I look just like my mother.

I don’t know how I could have been so blind all those years. I have her hair. I have her face. I have her smile. All of these things have been said by my father before. Not necessarily when he was sober. I was always the one person that reminded my Dad of his wife. Of my mother. I think a part of him wanted to keep me safe, just so he could always look at me and remember what she looked like. Even when I was a child, though, I could see the hurt behind his eyes every once in a while when he would look at me. It made me feel guilty.

Still does.

I know that none of it is my fault, that he made himself hurt.

Still…

For months, I would ask my Dad to teach me about hunting. To teach me about the monsters that crept through the darkness. Each time I asked, he would reject my request and I would get scolded for asking such a stupid question.

So, one night, around the age of seven or eight (one of the two, I can’t remember exactly), I decided that school wasn’t very important. There were occasions when I snuck out of classes to go to the library of whatever town we were in at the time to search the limited amount of lore books that they had. There were times when I got caught by Dean before I was able to sneak out. Other times it was by Sammy. Sometimes, my father would get a call from the school because I had been reported missing.

I was a problem child, as you could tell.

It’s not that I hated school.

It just wasn’t my favorite.

And I wanted to hunt.

So, anyway…from town to town, I would skip class, go to the library, and learn everything that I could learn about hunting if there was anything to learn. Sometimes, I would ask Dean questions. Sometimes he would answer, other times he told me to not worry about it and to mind my own business. It used to hurt whenever Dean would reject any of the questions that I would ask, but I know now that it was so he didn’t get in trouble with Dad. I remember giving him a hard time about it, about not answering me. Dean, if you’re reading this, I’m sorry for being a jerk.

Then again, Dean, if you’re reading this, you shouldn’t be reading this and expect some glitter to appear in your body wash.

No one knew about my secret research. No one knew the reason behind my skipping classes. I would constantly make up lies, most of them being about how much I hated moving around and just wanted to rebel against my father. Typical kid stuff.

It wasn’t until August of 1991, when I was ten years old, that I was finally able to put that research to use.

(Y/N) stared down at the paper that rested on a notebook in his lap. His eyes were wide and filled with stress, fingers tangled in his short hair, his back slouched ever so slightly. Dean sat a couple of inches away from him near the end of the bed, his homework in his lap, while Sam leaned against the headboard, a book in his hands that he had gotten from the school library. Dean looked up from his work, noticing the look of despair on his brother’s face before he glanced down at his worksheet. Dean grimaced and let out a hiss.

“Multiplying fractions?” He asked, a hint of sympathy in his tone.

Without looking up, (Y/N) gave a short nod. Dean pressed his lips together in a thin line before he set his pencil down beside him.

“Do you need help?” Dean offered.

(Y/N) lifted his head and looked at his older brother, giving a small, soundless nod. Dean offered a smile as he moved closer to him so that they were sitting next to one another. Dean craned his neck to be able to look at the paper, tilting his head as he studied the equations.

“Which one are you having problems with?” He asked.

“All of them,” (Y/N) answered.

Dean snorted. “Okay, so, it’s easy-”

“Wow, Dean thinks math is easy?” Sam mumbled, a smirk playing on his lips.

Dean lifted his head and glared at Sam. “Shut up, bitch,”

Sam shot a bitch-face towards Dean. “You shut up, jerk,” he retorted.

(Y/N) let out a frustrated grunt. “Will both of you assholes shut up!? I don’t understand this!” His voice was filled with annoyance and desperation.

Dean and Sam shot their brother a look. Sam rolled his eyes as he returned to the book. Dean looked back down at the paper, mumbling an apology under his breath. He then began to help (Y/N) with his homework, walking him through all of the problems that he had. (Y/N) still felt as if Dean was speaking in a foreign language, but he could understand the homework a little easier.

When the paper was halfway finished, the door to the motel room suddenly burst open, causing the three brothers to jump, their eyes wide as they turned and looked at the person who had just entered. John stormed into the room, slamming the door behind him. He stomped over to the couch that sat in front of the small television set and plopped down on it. He ran his hands down his face and let a small growl emit from his throat.

Dean, Sam, and (Y/N) shared a glance, almost as if they were communicating telepathically. After a while, Dean and Sam both turned their attention toward their brother, their eyes locked on his. After looking back and forth between the two, (Y/N) let out a soundless sigh as he set his homework beside him. He moved off of the bed and padded across the aged carpet to the couch. Slowly, he walked around the sofa so that he could see his father.

John looked tired. Dark circles were prominent underneath his eyes. One of his legs was propped up on the couch while the other lay bent in front of him. His elbow rested on the arm of the sofa, his cheek placed against his right hand as he stared at the television in front of him. Nothing played. When (Y/N) came into view, John glanced at him out of the corner of his eye for a brief moment. He said nothing.

“Hey, Dad,” (Y/N) greeted. “Um…how were the, uh, interviews with the victims’ families?”

John shook his head. “Not great, kid,” he grumbled.

“No?”

“No.”

As (Y/N) stared at his father, he timidly moved over to the couch. John hesitantly moved his leg as (Y/N) sat down next to him.

“Did you…learn anything?”

“Why aren’t you boys in bed?” John grunted.

“We’re finishing our homework.”

“Then shouldn’t you be working on it?”

(Y/N)’s shoulders slouched. “I just…wanted to see how it went is all…”

“You want to know how it went?” John’s voice got deeper. “You really want to know how it went? Fucking terrible. That’s how it went,” John straightened himself out on the couch before he stood up. He began to pace around the room, his tone of voice getting more and more irritable. “I thought I had a good fucking lead going. All of the victims went to the same fucking bookstore a couple of days before their deaths and got the same book. Seems like a fucking coincidence, right? Then I go to the goddamn bookstore to see what the book was and all it was was something called Aradia or some shit like that. Some type of foreign book bullshit, I don’t fucking know.”

(Y/N) furrowed his brows as John continued to rant. He looked down and away from his father. He got lost, deep in thought, the words that John was speaking irrelevant to him now. Finally, he turned back to him, kneeling on the couch as he raised his brows.

“Did you say Aradia?” He questioned in the middle of John’s rant.

John stopped pacing around the room as he looked back at (Y/N). Dean and Sam’s attention immediately turned to him, their eyes wide. John’s jaw was clenched, the anger and irritation still emanating from him. “Yeah,” he replied deeply.

“Aradia…” (Y/N) trailed before he shook his head. “That’s not a foreign book, Dad! That’s only the first half of the title. The full title is Aradia or the Gospel of the Witches. It was one of the most influential pieces of literature in the nineteenth century to witches! You’re dealing with a witch!” (Y/N)’s eyes widened as a smile appeared on his face.

John’s expression went from furious to confusion. He narrowed his eyes. “How do you know about that book?” He questioned.

“I read about it in a library a little bit ago.” (Y/N) answered quickly.

John pressed his tongue into his cheek as he slowly nodded his head. He looked at Sam and Dean, who were still staring with wide eyes at their brother, and then back at (Y/N). He ran a hand down his face stressfully.

“You boys finish your homework,” he mumbled as he walked towards the door. “I have to make a call.”

Without allowing anyone to respond, John left the motel room, closing the door behind him a little gentler than when he entered. (Y/N)’s smile faded as he watched his father leave, his shoulders dropping. The three brothers sat in silence for a minute before they looked at one another.

“Come on,” Dean said as he patted the spot on the bed next to him. “Let’s finish these math problems.”

Even though Dad never told me, I knew I was right. I knew it was a witch that he had dealt with. We didn’t even get to go to school the next day. He had found and killed her before I was able to turn in that math homework. What a waste of time.

I would like to think that Dad was proud of me in that situation, but he never said anything. He never brought it up again as far as I can remember. It was something that he had put in the past, along with all of the other hunts that we had been on. However, even if he wasn’t proud of me back then, I was proud of myself. Proud that I was able to help my Dad even if I wasn’t beside him when he took that bitch down.

God, I hate witches.

MAY 1993

I didn’t touch a gun until I was twelve years old. By that point, I had stopped begging Dad to teach me how to hunt, because it seemed that the only answer I was going to be getting was ‘No’. I figured that I would go to the next best person for the job.

I had to ask Dean.

Dean was very protective of Sammy and me when we were younger. He still is super protective of us, even in our ripe old ages. But because of how protective he could get, he was very hesitant about teaching me how to shoot a gun. However, with Dad talking about Dean going on hunts with him more and more by then, I knew that I would be left alone with Sammy. I used the excuse that I needed to learn how to shoot a gun eventually so that I could protect the two of us when we were by ourselves. I couldn’t be expected to be safe when the only two people who knew how to shoot were away.

That reasoning caught Dean’s attention.

After the fifth or sixth time asking him, Dean had finally agreed. A couple of days passed and, when Dad was a couple of towns away gathering information for a hunt, Dean and I skipped school. Shocking, right? I think Dean used the excuse that I hadn’t been feeling well and he had to take care of me. He even wrote out a fake doctor’s note and everything. Back then, you could get away with a handwritten note. I’m not too sure if you could now.

Once Sammy had been dropped off at school that day, Dean and I walked to a creek a couple of miles away from the school. He had set up a couple of cans on a log, some recycled stuff that he had picked up along the way. He had brought one of Dad’s small handguns with him. When he gave it to me, it felt so surreal. So different.

I never really understood what the big fuss was about, though.

Shooting a gun was easy.

“No, you can’t have your hand that low! You have it that low and the gun is going to come out of your hand when you shoot it,” Dean grumbled.

Dean took (Y/N)’s hand in his and adjusted it so that it fits perfectly onto the grip of the handgun. He then took his other hand and placed it on top of the one that was already on the gun. (Y/N) furrowed his brows as he looked at the way his hands nestled against one another.

“This doesn’t feel right.” He said. “Why can’t I just hold it with one hand like the cops do in the movies?”

“Because you’re twelve, dummy. You’re not in your forties and have years of experience under your belt,” Dean rolled his eyes. “And that is exactly how you should hold it if you don’t want to get hit in the face with your weapon after you fire it.”

(Y/N) listened intently to what his brother was saying, giving him a small nod before he straightened his back up.

“Stop.” Dean held up a hand.

(Y/N) shot Dean a confused look. “What?”

“You’re standing wrong.”

“I’m standing wrong…”

“Yeah, here,” Dean walked over, pressing his hand against the top of (Y/N)’s back ever so slightly, leaning him forward. “If you have your back too straight, then you’re more likely to fall backward. You also,” Dean kicked (Y/N)’s feet apart. “Need to have your feet apart. Keeps you more ground.”

(Y/N) looked down at the ground for a moment, taking in the appearance and feel of his stance. The way his back leaned forward and the way his legs were spread. He nodded.

“Okay, now I shoot?”

“Is your safety off?”

“Safety?”

Dean sighed, moving back over to him. He took the gun from (Y/N)’s grasp and flashed the left side of the gun. “You see this little trigger?” When Dean received a nod from his brother, he continued. “If it’s facing side-to-side, that means the safety is on. That means the gun won’t fire. All you have to do is flick this little switch,” Dean turned the safety off. “Once it’s up and down, then that means it’s ready to fire.” He handed the gun back to (Y/N). “Now, get back into position.”

(Y/N) glanced down at the safety mechanism on the gun for a moment before he nodded. He got back into the position that he was in, spreading his legs apart the same length Dean had and slouching his back forward ever so slightly. Once he received a nod of approval from Dean, (Y/N) lifted his arms, cocking his head to the side. He aimed at the can farthest to the left. He closed his left eye and placed his finger on the trigger.

“Stop!” Dean said more abruptly.

(Y/N) jumped and moved his finger off the trigger, standing up straighter to face Dean. “What!?” He asked exasperatedly.

Dean shook his head. “You can’t have one eye closed.”

“Why not? Snipers do it!”

“Because snipers are far enough away from combat. They need to look through a scope to get a good shot. You, on the other hand, are feet away from whatever monster you’re dealing with. What happens when you’re facing more than one monster? You leave yourself open to being taken out on your left.” Dean’s tone was stern, yet calm. His arms were crossed over his chest.

Slowly, (Y/N) nodded as he grasped an understanding of Dean’s thinking. “Both eyes open?”

“Both eyes open.” Dean backed up a bit. “Back into position.”

(Y/N) let out a shaky breath before resuming his position. Legs spread, back bent, arms up, head tilted, both eyes open. His goal was to hit the used can of peaches that sat on the outside of the log. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest from anxiousness and anticipation. He was surprised the gun wasn’t shaking in his grasp.

His eyes were on the cartoon peaches that were etched onto the label of the can. More specifically, the pit that sat in the center of the peach. He wanted to hit the pit. He never moved his eyes from the pit as he took a deep breath, his shoulders rising. Finally, as he exhaled, his shoulders dropping, he pulled the trigger.

The can flew into the air and seemed to dramatically and unceremoniously fall into the creek. A small splash echoed in (Y/N)’s ears, accompanied by the ringing of the gunshot.

One thing that (Y/N) noted was that his hands ached, both from the vice grip he had on the gun and the recoil that he hadn’t expected. Sure, Dean had informed him about it before, but he wasn’t sure how it would feel. His hands would definitely bruise.

(Y/N) lowered the gun, looking over at his brother to see that Dean wore a stunned expression on his face. Dean’s mouth hung open as his eyes were glued to the can that lay in the flowing water. (Y/N) watched in silence as Dean walked over to the can. He reached down and picked it up by the opening, wincing from the heat of the bullet hole before he swapped hands. He studied the can. It seemed like too much time had passed before he turned the can so (Y/N) could see.

(Y/N) had gotten it on his first try.

The bullet hole?

Right in the pit.

(Y/N) raised his brows, a mixture of pride and surprise coursing through him. A wide smile appeared on his face. Similarly, a smirk appeared on Dean’s lips. Dean chuckled before he tossed the can into the water.

“Beginner’s luck,” he said, brushing his hands onto his jeans. “Let’s see if you can hit the other ones.”

I shot through the rest of the cans, the same as I had done for that can of peaches. Not to toot my own horn, but I was a natural when it came to a pistol. I don’t mean to sound egotistic about this, but Dean can back up any statement that I’m making about this story.

I could tell that Dean was proud of me that day. He never said he was, but the way he looked at me and the way he treated me afterward told me things that words couldn’t. It’s hard to describe, but it almost felt like he had gained some respect for me that day. It felt good. Even as I am writing about this story, I can’t keep the smile off my face. I always looked up at Dean, so it feels great to think that I had done something to bring a smile to his stupid face.

My hands hurt like hell after it was all said and done. I had gotten a couple of bruises near the thumb on my right hand that I brushed off to my Dad as something that I had picked up when I got into a fight at school. Dean had backed me up when Dad got on my ass about it. Dad told me that I had to get along with the other kids so I didn’t give the wrong impression at the schools I went to. It wasn’t like they would remember me anyway. Of course, I didn’t tell him that. I knew when to bite my tongue.

Dad never found out about the shooting practice. I get a feeling that he had a sneaking suspicion as soon as he took me to practice himself years later, but I never told him about it. I never told him that Dean had been the one to teach me how to stand correctly, or where to find the safety of a gun. I know that he knew it was Dean. A part of me wonders if Dean ever got in trouble for it, or if it was something that Dad even brought up. I would never ask Dean about it now, though.

Some things are best to be left in the past.

NOVEMBER 1999

By the time I turned eighteen, I had already been on several hunts with Dad and Dean. The majority of the time, though, I would stay back and watch Sammy. Even though he was a teenager and had the capability of taking care of himself, Dad expressed that he was still a kid and needed to be looked after. A part of me thought it was bullshit at the time, but another part of me was glad that I was able to spend time with my younger brother.

Now, I know the real reason behind my staying with Sammy was because some of the hunts that Dad and Dean went on were ‘rough’. A little ‘too hard’ for me.

Dad didn’t want to lose the son that reminded him of his wife.

At least, that was what Dean told me, and I believe him.

It was a blessing and a curse, come to think of it. There were times that I stayed behind and Dad called me up, needing me to do some research for the case that they were working on. He had said it would be faster if someone was working on the research while he and Dean were out taking interviews. In the end, it was more efficient. I would gather the necessary information and hand it off to him and they would be back at the motel a lot quicker than if they had been the ones to look up the information.

That was the system that we worked with for a while. After a couple of months, Dad informed me that he didn’t want me to do the research anymore. He wanted Sammy to be the one to do it. I remember him saying that Sammy needed to focus more on the hunting aspect of his life. That school was just a waste of time at that point. He was old enough to get into it.

Sammy hated the idea when I told him. He loved school. He was always such a nerd. Still is. An even bigger nerd if you can believe it. I knew how much school meant to him, and I didn’t want him to be discouraged from doing his schoolwork. He shouldn’t have been forced to do anything that he didn’t want to. So, I decided that I was going to do the research and just tell Dad that he had been the one to do it. Sammy was thankful.

That was until Dad called.

Dad wasn't as stupid as I took him for most of the time. He knew that Sammy hadn’t done any of the research, that I was the one that did it all. By the time he and Dean got back, he gave Sammy a verbal lashing. I tried to defend him, but nothing worked. In the end, Sammy gave in. He would do the research for the next hunt.

Like clockwork, when the next hunt rolled around, with Sammy and I staying back at the motel, Dad had called. He had given Sammy the information that he needed to research and we headed off to the local library. Once we got the necessary books, we took them back to the motel and he began to work.

I could tell that it wasn’t going well.

Sam sat at the small table near the motel room door, two books placed in front of him. His back was slouched as he looked from one book to another, flipping through pages frantically. He had been going at it for several hours by then, evident by the bags that were present underneath his eyes and the redness around his pupils. (Y/N) sat on the couch, watching some old western show. Now and then he would look at his little brother. He could see how tired and stressed he was about the entire situation. (Y/N) had never seen Sam that stressed out before, even when he was studying for a test in one of his AP classes.

Eventually, Sam pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes, lowering his head, as if accepting defeat. (Y/N) studied his movements, and, after he saw that he had not moved in a while, he decided the best thing to do was to help him out. He picked up the remote and turned off the television before tossing it aside. He stood from his spot on the couch and walked over to the table. He grabbed the spare chair, pulled it beside Sam, and sat down.

“Having some trouble?” He questioned.

Sam’s shoulders rose and fell as a sigh escaped his lips. He removed his hands from his face and placed them into his lengthy hair. His eyes were cast down towards the table. He stayed in the same position for some time before he looked up at (Y/N).

“No,” he answered, pulling the books towards him. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“I said ‘I’m fine’,” Sam repeated through gritted teeth.

(Y/N) studied him with an expressionless face. Sam kept his eyes down, looking from one book to another. (Y/N) was able to see the stress that was emitted from his brother even better with how close he was sitting. He took one look at the books before he shook his head.

“I’m sorry Dad’s making you do this.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. You shouldn’t be doing this alone the first time…” he trailed. “But if Dad found out I helped you-”

“You’d get in trouble, and so would I. Yeah, I know.”

(Y/N) pursed his lips. “You know, it took me a little over a year to get comfortable with translating Latin. I sometimes screw up from time to time.”

“Still?”

“Yeah, still,” he chuckled. “That’s why I got something that helps me out now and again.”

With that, (Y/N) stood from his spot on the chair and waltzed over to the bed in the far corner of the room. Beside the bed sat his black duffel bag. He picked it up and placed it on the bed. He began to rummage through it, sorting through clothes and weapons that rested at the bottom. Wedged into the corner of his bag sat a book. He picked it up and brought it over to the table. He took a seat next to Sam once more and placed the book in front of him.

Sam furrowed his brows as he studied the cover. It was a Latin-English translation book. It looked rather similar to the one that he had picked up at the library. The only difference was the color of the cover was a little faded and, along the outside of the book, between all of the pages, were multi-colored Post-it notes. Each Post-it note had different letter combinations on it, as well as notes written on some of them. Sam opened the cover and he raised his brows when he saw that the first page was replaced by a notebook-sized piece of paper, taped to the front page. There were multiple words in English on the left side with their corresponding Latin translation on the right.

“What’s this?” Sam asked.

“It’s a translation book I picked up a couple of years back at a bookstore. I figured since there were going to be a lot of things that needed translating, then I was going to have to make it easier for myself to find the words. The only problem is that most of these translation books are so damn compressed that it’s hard to find certain words without getting blurry vision. So, I took the liberty to mark down all of the times when the letters change in the words. For example, when the words that start with ‘AB’ transfer to words that start with ‘AC’. It always made it easier to find. Plus, I made a page at the beginning about common words that I have found in my research so that it would be easier to translate them.”

As (Y/N) explained, he gestured with his hand toward the book. Sam listened intently, taking in all of the information that he was given, nodding his head. Once (Y/N) was done talking, Sam looked down at the book and then back up at him.

“You did all this?”

“Yeah,” (Y/N) chuckled. “Crazy, right?”

Sam snorted. “Yeah. Wish you put that much effort into your homework when you were still in school.”

“Hey,” (Y/N) leaned back in his chair and lifted his hands in mock surrender. “School was fine and all, but this is something I enjoy, and I’m good at it. I’m good at hunting research and you’re good in school.”

“And what’s Dean good at?”

“Being a pain in the ass.”

Sam smiled widely, his dimples more prominent than (Y/N) had seen in a while. After a beat or two of silence, the smile faded as he looked down.

“I wish Dad could see that I’m good at school.”

The corner of (Y/N)’s mouth curved downward. It was his turn to look down at the table. He reached over and placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder comfortingly. “I know, kiddo,” he mumbled. “But Dean and I both see how much of a nerd you are. Don’t worry.”

A smile returned to Sam’s face, but it wasn’t as happy as the last one. They sat in silence for a little bit before (Y/N) lowered his hand and Sam moved back to the books.

“You got it from here?” (Y/N) questioned.

“Yeah, I got it,”

“Great,” (Y/N) said as he stood from his seat and patted Sam on the back. “Call me over if you need anything.”

“Yeah, I’ll make sure to call you over when I get to the part about multiplying fractions.”

(Y/N) glared at Sam and crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“No, no I’m not.”

Sammy still teases me to this day about not knowing how to multiply fractions. Even though it was decades ago at this point, he still likes to tease me about it. Little shit.

With my help, Sammy was able to get the translations done a lot faster than he expected. I remember seeing the relief on his face when he had finished. Poor kid was so exhausted. Dad was more than pleased when he called and asked about it. Dad never found out that I had helped him out a bit, and neither Sammy nor I were planning on telling him. I just wanted Sammy to have an easier time than I did when I was first learning about research, specifically translations.

In the end, I would have to say that Sammy is better than me when it comes to research. He’s taken the reigns on many different hunts because of how proficient he is with technology. I’m good with old-fashioned ways of research, but Sammy’s the nerd when it comes to computers.

Sammy has told me once or twice, though, that I was the one that helped him the most when it came to his knowledge of research. That, without my help, he wouldn’t have been as good at it as he is now.

I call bullshit. Sammy has always been a smart kid.

He could do anything he put his mind to.

SEPTEMBER 2014

This is all I can write at the moment. Dean called me to the kitchen a couple of minutes ago saying that dinner was ready. I need to wrap this up before he or Sammy comes in here and sees what I’m doing. I know that I would get endlessly teased about keeping a ‘diary’. I need to make sure to hide this in a good enough place where neither of them will find it if they go snooping through my room.

Sam, Dean, if you guys are reading this, I’ll get you back.

But if you’re going to read it, I just want to let you know that I love you guys.

Not that I’m into chick-flick moments or anything.

I’m just glad that I have you guys as my brothers. No one could ask for a better family than you two.

Okay, that was cheesy. I wish I wasn’t writing this in pen so I could erase it.

Dammit.

I’m not too sure how to end this, so I guess I’ll just write again sometime when I can. Perhaps I could do like Dad did in his journal and write about all of the new monsters we have discovered over the years. Or maybe write more memories down. This journal is going to be so cluttered that no one is going to want to read it. There’s no way I’m going to get famous from this.

Dean just called me to the kitchen again.

Until next time.

Happy hunting. (That was stupid, think of something better).

WE LOVE YOU TOO - SAM + DEAN

230 notes · View notes

davekat-sucks · 2 months

Note

Okay! Hi! So I have something fun to say! I read the anon talking about Karkat being headcanoned as ace. It made me remember the person who runs this blog saying Dave is uncomfortable with sex. I have a narrative reason as to why Dave would be uncomfortable with sex. Two actually! I decided to reread a certain chapter and I realized something. It’s big! The biggest scoop this fandom has ever had!

I think you guys would love it! The fandom is going to have a rude awakening someday. You guys are going to be SO HAPPY! Let’s watch this thing burn down together and hold hands singing Kumbaya My Lord Kumbaya! Fuck I’ll bring stuff to make s’mores!

This me going off about the homestuck epilogue DaveKat scene again and there is some brutal topics covered in here, you’ve been warned. I imagine Dirk was in control of the some of the narrative when Karkat and Dave had sex. I think Dirk had a lot of control over what happened but not all of it. Free will is still a thing. Here is Dirk saying as much! He says he likes using persuasion!

Did you guys catch a certain part of this when reading it? The non stop animalistic fucking part I mean. That’s weird to say about your family. Moving on.

Dave and Karkat don’t really admit that they like each other romantically… seems like they don’t want to. Right that’s what the fandom must have picked up on. It’s hard for them to date because of the Ace/Aro thing. Or. They DONT. They don’t want to date. They never did. They’re forced to. In meat, it looks like Dirk just wants Dave to top this guy.

Here. Read what Karkat says.

Then Karkat says “I’m glad you’re my friend.” “I don’t have to wonder what is missing!” Karkat doesn’t have to wonder what is missing! We’ve got everything we need here! But wait! they’re not just friends! They are… best… friends? Karkat sounds unsure of what to even say here? He sounds like he doesn’t know where this is going. What he’s even being pushed to say. He said what he meant already. Dave is the one asking him if they are more than friends.

Look. If someone with the powers of a god is compelling them to talk about their feelings and this is the most Karkat can say, it means there is NOTHING ELSE THERE. Dirk is losing his shit here.

Here’s an excuse! “Maybe relationships isn’t a thing Karkat does!” Hold on to that thought Dave! If it makes you feel better about having animalistic sex with a guy! I’ll come up with anything to make you think that.

“HE WANTS IT! YOU WANT IT!” Karkat wants it! You want it too, Dave!

It’s nothing to worry about Dave! You two can do it right here on the couch if you want! Please want that! I mean he loves you so much! See you two are so so so close! He’s going to bust it open for you! Dave he wants it! Dirk wants it. He is excited at the idea of it. Karkat doesn’t seem to care and diving into Karkat’s head to convince him he loves Dave isn’t Dirk’s goal. Karkat falling in love has nothing to do with anything. Why would Dirk even care? Dirk only cares about Dave having sex here. Dirk isn’t really influencing Karkat either, he doesn’t get into his head at all.

I don’t know how much Dave wants Karkat. I’m not able to really discern that. Though I wouldn’t count this as a confession. Dave is drunk! Or at least tipsy. He has someone else chatting in his head. He can even hear hear what Dirk is saying.

Dirk is saying all sorts of things in Dave’s head. Dave is stressed to the point of sweating. What was Dirk going to say before he was cut off? A threat? It sounded like a threat. Is it supposed to be encouraging!? Either is fucked!

The let me do this myself bit reads more like an act of defiance. Let me see if this is right or not, Dirk! Though if you’re under the influence and someone has been fucking with your mind to fill it with what they want for you, do you think that isn’t ABUSE?! Brainwashing? Do you think Dave is being lead to believe Karkat actually wants to date him? I think all of those things are true here.

It all reads like Dave and Karkat are forced together. Like that’s even what the writers are trying to fucking say. It reads like they are spitting on the couple and using them as a narrative tool. Someday in the future they have to address Dirk and Dave’s relationship.

When I read this line it conformed for me something I was certain of before and I’m certain that is what is being said here. I think there is a clear reason as to why it was put into this chapter. What Dirk’s intentions are. Read it and see if you can catch what I’m going to point out.

There it is. This is what the epilogue is going with.

Born again virginity. Dave didn’t have his virginity before he died at 13. Why even bring up a line like that if meant nothing. If was a joke?

Why was Dave willing to pay Dirk respect for killing himself in Candy?

For that matter! Why is Dirk so into Dave topping some guy? Isn’t Dirk a bottom? Why is Dirk so into talking about his son and/or brother having animalistic sex with one of the few male characters left alive? Karkat is someone the fandom would have loved to see Dave end up with since they smiled at each other once in Act 6.

So. Here’s what I want to get at. The to long didn’t read version of what I wrote!

What’s the two narrative reasons Dave doesn’t want to have sex?

1. Dave doesn’t want to have sex with someone if Dirk is just going to come into his head and get off to it.

2. Dave isn’t comfortable with having sex because of unresolved trauma.

What was the scoop? The big scoop that would tear the fans apart?

Karkat and Dave aren’t in love. They never were. Karkat wanted to say he appreciated having someone who put so much faith in him. It meant something to him. He said he feels content with that. He doesn’t have to wonder what is missing.

Karkat is Dave’s best friend. They are close. I love that. I want them to have a normal relationship, but they don’t. And they can’t. Even the running for president plot line was introduced so we could have Dave backing Karkat and giving him support. But that, once again, may have just been the narrative fucking with them, setting them up to have a moment like this. This is the problem with meta fiction. How much of this is the characters? The writers? The gods overseeing them? They have Calliope and Dirk picking at these assassinated characters like vultures. Just like how Calliope had John and Terezi get with each other in his dad’s car. John might have liked her but he was dying in that moment. Narratively, that was setting Terezi up to want to bring him back to life. To think they could be lovers in some way, and maybe they can. I don’t know. How much of that was John being fucked with? This story is a horror story. No one here is happy. Nothing here is good. Nothing is clear.

The one thing I am sure of is that born again virgin line meant something. Dave was holding onto his new founded virginity. Maybe he didn’t even feel comfortable saying he liked men because that is like saying he might have in someway enjoyed what Bro did to him. Maybe he didn’t want to have sex because of a terrible experience he had. Maybe the writers of the new homestuck content will pivot, maybe they will undo all of what is being set up here. But why do that? They like the drama!

I can see them containing with this theme. Dave was molested before homestuck even started. That is what is being said here. Bro molested him. Dirk feels horrible for it. He wants Dave to be the one to decapitate him too, like it’s closure.

The true to long didn’t read is basically this: Dave and Karkat is only canon because it’s forced. The writers are even announcing it! Thanks for the years of us having to listen to people falsely celebrating DaveKat! Now we’re going to just sing our hymns and celebrate their destruction.

That actually makes sense. It is fucked up if all along that Ult Dirk and by extension Hussie, WhatPumpkin, James Roach, HICU, and the fanbase itself, are forcing the two without their consent and they can't escape it.

It was so obvious from the start and yet people accepted it for what it was. This kissing in the laundry scene now gives a different meaning now that these boys did not actually want this but are forced to anyway without their say.

38 notes · View notes

lovevuni · 1 year

Text

Double Dare Romance : Enoch O’Connor x Reader : Part 2 Success

Warning: Flirting, Fluff, slight dirty flirting (like two bits), Slow burn

Summary: You take your new challenge into effect, taking every oppurtunity to flirt with enoch to get him flustered in order to soften him up. Your only goal is to get under his skin and have him admit defeat. Is this when you succed?

A/N: Again I hate using Y/N but sadly have to. Enjoy~

Part 1: Challenge Accepted

You are unpacking your luggage in your room Miss Peregrine has assigned to you.

“Ah, Y/N. Always one step ahead of everyone else. I must say, I admire your tenacity.” Enoch says as you are unpacking causing you to look at him.

“tenacity?” You question not understanding the word.

“Yes, tenacity. Despite our initial differences and the challenges that arise when you’re around, you never give up or lose sight of your goals. Whether it’s advancing your mission or getting under someone’s skin, you always keep pushing forward. It’s an admirable quality, even if it does drive me mad at times.”

“The only thing I want under is you pretty boy.” You tease him causing him to raise an eyebrow at your amusing words.

“Ah, I see you’re still trying to rile me up. Well let me tell you, Y/N, there are much more effective ways to get under my skin than cheap taunts and insults.”

“I bet there is, but this is a lot more fun” You wink.

He chuckles at your antics, “Indeed it is, Y/N. And who knows, maybe someday you’ll find a way to genuinely get under my skin. But until then, I suppose I’ll just have to content myself with watching you try.”

Claire walks into the room announcing that it was time for dinner before skipping out of the room. (I love claire)

“The night is still young, Y/N. Perhaps we could continue this conversation over dinner? My treat, of course.” In your head you roll your eyes knowing Miss peregrine and the children make the food.

“We shall” You say as you grab his arm for him to escort you down to dinner.

He smiles as he takes your had, leading you out of the room and towards the dining hall.

“A charming lady like yourself should definitely make the most of social situations. Who knows, perhaps tonight will bring about a new opportunity to annoy each other further...or perhaps something more meaningful may come from it? Only time will tell.”

“Oh I plan on it” You finish the conversation as you take a seat next to him, planning your next attack.

He takes a sip of his drink looking pleased as ever, “You know, Y/N, sometimes I wonder what motivates you. Is it simply the thrill of the chase, or do you truly wish to engage in meaningful discourse with me? It’s hard to tell with you; you’re so elusive and unpredictable.”

“I’d never tell you” He grins at this.

“Of course not, Y/N. That would defeat the purpose entirely. Part of the fun is trying to figure you out, to test your boundaries and push your buttons. And yet, despite our differences and opposing viewpoints, there’s something about you that draws me in.”

You decide to end the conversation there and move your focus to Millard, conversing with him about different books you both enjoy.

Enoch watches as you begin to speak with millard about literature, “ Ah, a love of reading. How quaint. I must admit, though. I’m suprised to see you conversing with such a lowbrow individual as Millard. Then again, perhaps you seek to prove some sort of point by associating with those beneath you?”

You decide to ignore him and continue your convo with Millard.

He seems offended but stays silent as you converse with Millard, but continues to watch you carefully.

As you finish talking and begin to eat Enoch takes this time to try and speak with you again, “So, did you enjoy your chat with Millard? I must confess, i found it somewhat amusing to observe.”

“You’re observing me now?” giving him a shocked look knowing full well he was.

He smirks, “Indeed, I find myself fascinated by your every move. Perhaps it’s because we have such a strong connection. Or maybe it’s just that I enjoy pushing your buttons. One cannot be sure in these matters. What do you think drives your interactions with me Y/N?”

“You believe we have a connection now? If I were any better I would say your catching feeling now Enoch” You say teasingly as you run your foot up his leg under the table making sure non of the children see what is happening.

He laughs as he glances at your foot on his leg before meeting your gaze once more, “Oh, I know you are much too good for me, Y/N. But perhaps there is something about the way I challenge you, the way I push your boundaries, that appeals to you on a deeper level.”

“I wouldn’t say that now” You continue to move your foot up his body to a more intimate area of his, still making sure no one else can see.

He smirks leaning closer to you, their voices low enough not to be overheard, “is it possible that part of you enjoys the thrill of danger, the excitement of exploring forbidden territories? Are you secretly drawn to the darkness withing me even though it terrifies you at times?”

“there is nothing intimidating about you my boy, I’m just trying to prove that I can get under your skin” You whisper with your hot breath in his ear.

Gasping with shivers down his back as he feels your warm breath against his ear, “You certainly succeed in getting under my skin, Y/N. And yes, I admit it - there is something about the darkness inside of you that draws me in like a moth to a flame.” SUCCESS!

You laugh as you completely pull away from him in a succeeding manner, “told you I would get you”

He laughs, “Well played, it seems our little game has become quite heated. Shall we continue?”

“why should we, when I have already won.” You get up in victory from the table to help Claire get ready for bed, “Come on Claire, time for bed.”

He watches you leave the table and take care of Claire, feeling conflicted emotions swirling within him.

“Intrigued by your wit, intelligence, and hidden desires. Driven by the need to understand you better, to uncover the depths of your soul.” He says to himself.

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

Part 3 : Only Fun

#enoch #enoch o'connor #miss peregrines home for peculiar children #enoch o'connor x reader #millard nullings #Claire #enoch x reader #enoch mphfpc #mphfpc

192 notes · View notes

furiousgoldfish · 2 years

Text

How a friendship (or a relationship) should NOT make you feel:

What if I’m not good enough to be their friend/partner?

If I keep doing everything in my power to please/impress this person, then maybe they’ll someday acknowledge me and like me

I’m not worth their attention. I was stupid to expect them to care about me. I should have known I’m not special to them from the start.

What they just did crushes me inside and makes me feel invisible/worthless/forgettable/abandoned but I know it’s my fault for being like this and I can never bring it up or they’ll think I’m a freak

I should stuff my feelings down and accept that I’m just not that important and that if they accidentally walk all over me this is fine and I have to find a way to be at peace with it

I wish they would give me at least half as much attention as I’m giving them. But if I bring it up, they’ll think I expect too much or that I’m keeping count and I shouldn’t. Maybe one day they’ll return the attention.

I don’t feel cared about at all. I feel just as lonely as when I didn’t have anyone, but now also scared that it’s my fault.

I’m scared of what they’re going to think of me if I say how I feel. I’m scared what they’re going to think if they find out more about me.

I can tell I’ll be abandoned as soon as I confront them about anything unfair and painful they’ve done to me.

I want to have someone but this is painful.

I don’t think they realize my feelings are real, and that I’m a real person who exists even at time when they don’t need me. I don’t think I can explain this to them.

I feel used, but it’s my fault for allowing them to use me. I need to figure this out myself.

I feel that for every good thing I do for their life, they make mine more painful and unbearable. They don’t even notice it because they don’t know what I’m going thru. And I don’t dare to tell them.

If I tell them what’s painful for me, when they inevitably do it again, I’ll know they knew they’re hurting me. I wouldn’t be able to stand it.

Would they just be happier without me?

I’m spending more time fretting and over-analyzing what they’re going to do than enjoying their stay in my life..

I don’t think this person ever cared about me. They only saw what they could get out of me.

I feel like crying repeatedly when I remember things they did and said to me

I feel that they want to keep me even when it’s incredibly painful for me to endure it. I want to be set free. Why won’t they let me go.

If this is your experience in a friendship or a relationship, it’s not love and care that you’re getting out of it. These situation should not happen in a loving, healthy and mutually caring friendships or relationships.

It’s unlikely that you feel slighted by things that aren’t meant to slight you. Being ignored, neglected, left behind, manipulated, used, lead on, groomed, shamed, forced to fear what their perception of you is - those are all scenarios that would upset and bring pain and misery to every single person. You’re not irrational for feeling this, and you don’t have to hide it. If someone is repeatedly making you feel this way, you’re more than justified in leaving. You don’t need to endure this for anyone.

#toxic friendships #toxic relationships #abusive friendships #abusive relationships #emotional abuse #psychological abuse #fear of showing emotions #fear of showing that you're in pain #hiding pain to preserve relationship #minimizing your feelings to enable selfishness and lack of empathy #friendships with no compassion or mutuality #being stepped on and feeling guilty for it

933 notes · View notes

pinkrose787 · 14 days

Text

Amnesia! Branch AU Chapter 2

AO3: Link Part 1: Here

Summary: Branch wakes up in a world that he doesn't fully understand, and finds that everything has changed.

Chapter 2:

The hospital is so bright and loud. The fluorescent lighting that illuminates the ICU hurts his eyes. And these machines won’t stop beeping. Each beep is like a knife into his brain. A far cry from Branch’s dark and quiet bunker. He can feel the IV digging into his skin, shifting every time he so much as breathes.

But even with this sensory hell, all he can think about is Poppy. Dr. Moonbloom referred to her as queen, a title that Branch dreaded Poppy getting for years. And the way that she acted. Hugging him, holding his hand, being there by his side. It’s a way that Branch had dreamed of her acting for a long time. Did they start dating? No. That’s impossible. There’s no way Poppy would ever be with someone like him. Besides she likes Creek. Not him. Never him.

Then his mind wanders over to his brothers. Are they really beyond those white doors waiting for him? Have they really cared enough to reconnect with him? And what of Spruce? Poppy mentioned John Dory, Floyd, and Clay, but didn’t mention Spruce. Maybe he really died like he always assumed his brothers did. Damn. He hopes not. Even if he’s been angry at them for almost his entire life, he never wished for death on any of them.

Dr. Moonbloom checks up on him. “How have you been feeling?”

“Confused, mostly.” Branch says. “I don’t understand what’s going on.”

She writes that down in her clipboard. “Well, that stands to reason. You’ve lost the last four years of your memory. Now, I would catch you up on what you have missed, but I have a feeling that Queen Poppy would prefer to do that herself.”

It’s so strange to her Poppy referred to as Queen Poppy. He guesses that it’s just something that he is going to have to get used to. But he still doesn’t fully understand why Poppy is so insistent on helping him. As much as he wants to spend all his time with Poppy, he isn’t sure if could handle it. He looks up at Dr. Moonbloom who stands there with her trademark indifferent expression. “When am I going to be able to go home?”

Dr. Moonbloom looks back down at her clipboard. “Well, given the injuries you sustained we want to keep you here for a few days for observation. After that, you’ll be able to go back to your bunker.”

His bunker! If he’s not there who’s going to maintain it! He’s never been away from his bunker for more than a few hours. Being here in the open, injured, and surrounded by strangers, makes him want to get up and hide in his bunker. But these damn IV lines in his arm won’t let him. “I’ll be here for a couple more days?” He asks. The thought of being in this overstimulating hospital ward for another few days makes him wish he’d have died out there.

“Yes and no. Given your stable condition you’ll be moved to your own personal hospital room at the request of Queen Poppy. Now, I have other patients to attend to. A nurse will be here to move you shortly.” Dr. Moonbloom leaves Branch lying alone in the hospital bed.

There it is again. Poppy is referred to as queen. It was something he knew would happen someday, since she’s King Peppy’s only child. But he never expected it to happen so soon. Does that mean King Peppy is dead? He hopes that Peppy simply stepped down. He’d hate for Poppy to have to feel the pain of losing someone close to her.

It isn’t long until Dr. Moonbloom’s words come true. A couple of nurses come and help Branch into a wheelchair. Apparently, they don’t trust him enough to walk. There’s something strange about one of the nurses helping. She looks just like Cooper except different. In fact, as they wheel him to the room where he’s staying, he notices a lot of different trolls. Some are like Cooper and the nurse, others are small and gold, a few are fish-like, some are half-horse, and there are multiple trolls that have more muted colors like him but have much sharper features. He wonders if he doesn’t have memory loss but was rather knocked into some sort of warped nonsense dimension.

The hospital room he was moved to is incredibly nice. It’s so spacious, even though Branch isn’t going to be moving around much. A nightstand next to the bed with a lamp on it. There’s a small couch and an armchair meant for visitors.

Normally, Branch would assume that he won’t have any, But with Poppy and his brothers, he might actually have someone come visit him. That’s such a foreign thought to him. Frankly, he isn’t sure he welcomes it. He’s gotten so used to going through everything alone that the mere thought of someone being there for him when he’s at his weakest makes him anxious.

What really catches his eye in the hotel room is the window. It’s large and lets sunlight stream into the room. And it has an amazing view of Troll Village. Looking through it he can see all the different pods hung up on the branches. There’s all sorts of trolls going about their daily lives. It’s a world that Branch feels like he can never truly be a part of.

It isn’t long before there’s a knock at his hospital door. The door opens to reveal Poppy standing in the doorway. She’s holding a tote that’s so heavy; it’s causing her to lean. “Hey Branch!” She says. Her voice is excited and perky as it always is. She’s smiling so wide. If it weren’t for her eyes Branch would assume that she was happy. They are red and puffy. The mascara and eyeliner around them is smudged.

“Have you been crying?” Branch asks. Never in the entire time of Branch knowing her has he ever seen her cry. She’s always been so happy and upbeat. The thought of her being sad enough to cry is unnerving.

“What? No. I’m fine,” Poppy says. Her smile falters a little.

“Okay…” Branch doesn’t believe her. But he doesn’t want to push the issue. He knows how much it sucks for people to try and get you to tell you what’s wrong when you do not want to. He glances down at the tote. “What’s with the bag?”

Poppy perks up again. “I brought scrapbooks of everything that’s happened!” She pulls the armchair to Branch’s bedside. It makes a low groan as it scrapes against the floor.

He looks at the tote again. It’s almost ripping at the seams from the weight of all the scrapbooks. “Looks like there’s a lot,” Branch remarks.

“There is!” Poppy sits down in the chair next to Branch. “We’ve done so much over the last four years.” She pulls out a couple of scrapbooks and shows them to Branch. “These are the three really big ones where our lives changed the most.” The scrapbooks are labeled “Befriending the Bergens”, “Troll Tribe Togetherness”, and “BroZone: Here we Bro-again”.

“Befriending the Bergens?” Branch repeats the title of the first scrapbook. He looks up at Poppy with a skeptical expression. “There’s no way we befriended the Bergens. Did you forget that they used to eat us every year?”

“No, I didn’t. Besides they all agreed to stop eating us two years ago! And ever since then we’ve all been friends!”

“There’s no way that I would ever be friends with a Bergen.” He crosses his arms.

“Well…” Poppy chuckles. “You did.” She opens up the third scrapbook. On the first page is Branch in a suit standing next to a Bergen. Poppy points to the picture. “That’s you and King Gristle at his wedding! You were his best man!”

Branch cannot look away from the image. There he is. Next to the Bergen king. Someone he swore would always be his enemy. “There is no way that’s real.”

“It is.” Poppy puts down the scrapbook. “I know that us befriending the Bergens is going to be hard for you to understand without your memories, because I know that what happened with your grandma deeply affected you.”

Branch’s blood runs cold. Poppy knows his most deeply held traumas. All the years and all the effort of hiding himself from her were undone in just four years. “I told you about my grandma?”

“Yeah, in a pretty dramatic way actually.” She grabs the first scrapbook. “I detailed it in here. If you read it, you’ll see that it happened in the past. Things have changed. You’ve changed.” Her voice is soft.

For a second, Branch doesn’t respond. He doesn’t know how. His gaze goes to the wall across from him. A flurry of thoughts fly through his head. He’s felt more emotions in the couple of hours since waking up than he has in years. Was that good? Was that bad? He isn’t sure. What he does know is that he doesn’t like it.

Poppy gently takes Branch’s hand. “Hey, we don’t have to go through this all right now. That’s why I brought the scrapbooks. So, you can read through them at your own pace.” Branch looks up at Poppy. She has a soft smile on her face. “Though if you want, I can go through them with you. Fill you in on all the little details the scrapbooks miss.”

“I… I.. guess I do have some questions,” Branch says.

“Ask away!” Poppy says.

Branch takes a second to think. There’s a million questions buzzing about in his brain. There is one that keeps showing up in his mind. One that he’s been having trouble getting used to. “When did you become queen?” he asks.

“A couple of years ago. Right after we befriended the Bergens, my dad abdicated and gave the crown to me!” Poppy says. She opens up the first scrap book to an image of her and Branch holding hands and standing on top of a toadstool. “You were actually right there beside me at my coronation.”

Poppy smiles gently as she brushes the picture. “Actually, you’ve been by my side for pretty much my entire reign as queen,” she says. A lone tear falls down her face.

There’s a bit of pain in Branch’s heart. He’s happy that Poppy didn’t have to lose her dad. But she lost him. Or at least she lost the troll that he was before he lost his memory. It’s strange to the see the woman you love mourn you while you’re still alive “I wish I could remember it.” Branch says.

“I wish you could too.” Poppy wipes away the tear. “But we’ll work on getting those memories back!”

There’s that typical Poppy optimism that has pestered Branch for years. The optimism that made Branch fall for her in the first place. Though Branch doesn’t feel as optimistic about him getting his memories back. “Something else that’s been on my mind.”

“Yeah?” Poppy asks.

“What were we? Before I lost my memory, I mean.” Branch takes a deep breath. “Because it seems like we were more than friends.” Though Branch doesn’t really hold hope that she ever returned his feelings.

Poppy pauses at that question. Her eyes start to well up with tears. “We are… well…” She takes a deep breath in and blinks away the tears in her eyes. “We were dating.”

Branch’s heart almost stops at Poppy saying that. They were together. And he doesn’t remember a damn thing about it. This feels like another joke that the universe has played on him. “We were dating?” he repeats lightly. “How? And since when?”

Poppy picks up the “Troll Tribe Togetherness” scrapbook. She turns to the very end. On that page there’s Poppy, Branch, and a bunch of other trolls that Branch doesn’t know standing in a coliseum. The little Branch and Poppy scrapbook characters are holding hands. “It was right after Barb tried to steal all the strings. After I smashed her guitar and temporarily destroyed all music, we sang a song that brought music back to the world. And there on that stage is when you said, ‘I love you’ for the very first time and that’s when I said it back to you. After that we were always together.”

Branch is quiet. He wants to say something, but what? What could he possibly say to that? That sounds like such an amazing moment, like something out of Branch’s wildest dreams. And he doesn’t remember it.

Rage wells up inside him. He’s had so much stolen from him over his life. His parents, his brothers, his grandma. And now he’s had four years of memories stolen from him. Memories where he lived a happy life. A life that he thought would never be possible. He wants to rage against everything. He wants to tear everything apart. He wants to scream and scream and scream. But he can’t. He doesn’t want to say anything to hurt Poppy.

“Do you want to see my favorite scrapbook?” Poppy says.

This snaps Branch out of his own mind. He looks at her. She has a soft smile on her face, though her eyes are still misty. “Sure,” Branch says.

Poppy pulls out a brown scrapbook. It’s unlike all the other scrapbooks Branch has seen. The construction is shoddy. On the front there’s a poorly drawn image of Branch and Poppy inside a heart and written in abysmal handwriting is “Branch and Poppy’s Great Adventure”.

He stares at it for a second. “This is your favorite scrapbook? Why?” Branch asks.

“Because it’s the one you made for me,” Poppy says softly. She caresses the cover with a smile on her face.

“I made that for you?” Branch asks. Truthfully, he should have figured that out. He might know how to make traps that can catch anything and build a functional survival bunker, but crafts have never been his strong suit. It’s hard to focus on gluing paper together when you feel like any moment a Bergen is going to pick you up and eat you.

“Yeah, you did.” She hands the scrapbook to Branch. “I think maybe it’s best if you see what happened from your own perspective. Maybe that’ll wake up your memories!”

Branch opens the scrapbook. The construction of it is not any better on the inside. There’s so many little drawings of them, going on adventures, being with each other. The page that strikes Branch the most is near the beginning of the scrapbook. Him and Poppy are standing on top of a mushroom and holding hands. Written above them “You make me happy.”

Such as simple statement. But it feels like a stab in the heart. It’s a sentiment that he’s never expressed out loud, at least not that he can remember. Poppy makes him about as happy as he can be, which usually isn’t very much. But it seems like Poppy managed to break through every barrier he had set up over his life.

But without his memories, all those barriers are back-up. It feels like Poppy teleported behind them, and Branch doesn’t like that. As much as he loves her, as much as he wants to be close with her, having her be behind all his walls makes him feel panicked.

Branch looks over at Poppy. Her face has such a soft smile, one that Branch would hate to see go away. But they have to face reality. The one she’s smiling thinking about isn’t him. He looks away from her. “I know you want me to say that I remember everything now, but I don’t. Nothing in this scrapbook is familiar.”

For a millisecond, the smile on Poppy’s face fades. But she forces it back up. “Well, that’s okay! No one expects you to remember everything right away!” She takes Branch’s hand. “And while you get your memories back, your brothers and I will be here every step of the way.”

Oh, that’s right. He’d been so distracted by his forgotten past with Poppy; he forgot that his brother’s came back. “I can’t believe it. I thought I’d never see any of my brothers again.” Branch looks at Poppy. “It’s not some prank right? They’re really here?”

Pranks have been pulled on him in the past. A lot of them were cruel and meant to stir up his paranoia about the Bergens returning. But Poppy never pulled them on him. Usually, she would get on the case of whoever was pranking Branch. “It’s not a prank. They are really back. If you want to, you can see them. They’re actually in the waiting room right now.” Poppy says.

Truthfully, he still doesn’t know if he wants to see his brothers again. It seems like past him did. But from what he’s seen past him had a whole better life. All the anger at his brothers is still so fresh. He glances down away from Poppy. “I don’t want to see them.” His voice is angrier than he expected it to be.

“That’s alright. You can see them when you’re ready.” Poppy says. She gently smiles at him. “Meanwhile, I’ll be here for you.”

Branch looks at her. Even though she’s smiling, he can tell that she’s struggling to keep up this façade. “Is anyone going to be there for you?”

Immediately after asking Branch feels a little dumb. Of course, there are going to be people there for her. She’s the most beloved troll in all of Troll Village. If she so much as sneezes, the entire village loses their minds.

Poppy puts her hand on Branch’s. “Don’t worry about me. Viva hasn’t really left my side, since you were hospitalized.”

“Who’s Viva?” Branch asks.

“Oh? Yeah!” Poppy perks up. “I forgot to tell you! She’s my long-lost big sister!”

“Wow.” Branch really cannot think of anything to say to that. “You have an older sister?”

“Yeah, I know. And my dad never mentioned her...” Poppy starts to go into a speedy talk about her sister. Branch is barely catching any of it. He’s hearing Clay’s name mentioned a couple times. But he isn’t sure in what context it’s being mentioned.

A sharp pain shoots through Branch’s head. “Augh!” he exclaims.

Poppy stops mid-sentence. “Oh my goodness? Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Branch presses his hand against his head. “My head just hurts.” It could solely be from his head injury, but the insane amount of information and emotions that he’s had to process in the last hour definitely have not helped.

“I should probably let you rest.” She gets up to leave, but leaves the tote bag filled with scrapbooks behind. Before she turns the door handle, she looks back towards Branch and smiles. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back tomorrow!”

With that statement, she leaves Branch alone in the hospital room. While Branch is sad to see Poppy go, he’s also relieved. Now, he can sit and process every thing without worrying if what he says is going to hurt Poppy.

____

Closing the door, Poppy feels a wave of exhaustion wash over her. She knows that she should have expected Branch to figure some things out. Nothing prepared her for the conversation about what the two of them were. Reminiscing on her and Branch’s relationship with Branch was one of the most painful things she’s ever experienced.

Right now, she just wants to go home and collapse. Well, what she really wants to do is collapse in Branch’s arms, tell him all about the day she’s had, and let her exhaustion melt away. But that’s not possible. She needs to be strong for Branch. Just as long as it takes for him to get back to how he used to be. Hopefully, that won’t be too long.

Helping Branch catch up isn’t the only tough job Poppy has to do. Now, she has to be the one to tell Branch’s brothers that he doesn’t want to see them. It’ll break their hearts, but it needs to be done.

Poppy takes a deep breathe to compose herself, and heads towards the waiting room.

#Branch #Poppy #Trolls #Branch Trolls #Poppy Trolls #Broppy #Groppy #Amnesia! Branch AU

26 notes · View notes

zhonks · 1 year

Text

- Valse sentimentale - Fyodor D. x ballerina!fem!reader

When Fyodor meets a charming girl who asks him to play cello for her

Words : 1414

Warning : none

Tags : fluff ? She/her!reader Falling in love/ love at first sight, cringe and cliché, Mentioned Nikolai, tried to make it romantic. Maybe a little bit OOC.

A/N: There will probably be some mistakes in this fic I apologize! English isn’t my first language 🩷

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

Fyodor wasn’t the type interested in romantic relationships, that was before he met her, in a music shop. He was searching for a recording of his favorite Tchaikovsky songs when his shoulder bumped into hers, causing him to drop the CD he was holding. She apologized immediately, worried she could have hurt him.

“- Oh ! I’m so sorry ! Are you okay ? Wait let me get that for you!”

Before he could even respond she was kneeling to fetch all of the fallen CDs.

“- No need to apologize dear, I should’ve been more careful” he lowered his head, bowing a bit as to excuse himself.

She handed him the CDs, allowing Fyodor to see what music she had purchased, he smiled :

“-Tchaikovsky, huh ? Good taste”

She glanced at his pick,

“-So you’re also a fan ?” She laughed.

“-I guess you could say that” he retrieved the CDs from her hands.

The girl felt a chill go up her spine as her hand brushed his, of course, he noticed she tensed up at his touch.

“-I actually really enjoy playing the cello myself, Tchaikovsky’s works are definitely my favorite to play. Just the way his pieces move and speak to your emotions is just incredible.” He continued.

“-Ah really ? That’s awesome ! For how long have you been playing ?” She asked excitedly.

“-A really long time, he said with a breathy laugh, perhaps over 10 years now.

-10 years ? Wow that’s so so so amazing ! I’m sorry I’m just really happy to meet someone who enjoys cello as much as I do!

-Do you play yourself ? He asked curiously

-No, hahaha, actually I’m a ballerina” the girl smiled.

“-you know what ? Maybe we should do something together someday!” She continued.

Fyodor’s eyebrows rose, his interest was picked.

“-Dancing with a beautiful ballerina is something I would definitely be a fan of,

he said with a grin, it seemed he really enjoyed the idea of that,

Do you perform at dance shows? I’d definitely love to come and see you dance.”

She looked away in embarrassment, slightly blushing from his words :

“-I’m not, I’m more of a solo type of dancer… Sorry if this sounds weird, I was thinking about maybe just meeting up.. the two of us ?”

He could tell by her flushed face that she was clearly flustered, this made his heart flutter with joy. The idea of a pretty girl like her dancing for him made him so happy. It was almost too good to be true. He just couldn't help himself, he was truly in love with this idea, even if he indeed thought she was a bit naive, asking such a thing to a complete stranger. Luckily for her, he had no ill intentions.

“-Yes, please. I would absolutely love that.”

“-Cool ! I’m so happy ! I’ll let you know when I’m ready is that okay with you!”

she said fidgeting with her skirt

“-Yes, that is more than okay with me. I will be waiting, just let me know when you are ready.”

he said in a warm and understanding tone.

The two of them exchanged numbers before parting ways.

Fyodor’s heart felt strangely light the days following their encounter. That was so out of character that Nikolai noticed immediately during the decay of angels’ usual meetings.

“-Dostoy, you seem out of it these days ? Did something happen” the clown asked, leaning over the table.

His chin resting in his hands, he answered blankly:

“-No, nothing. Let’s focus on the meeting shall we”

Of course he was lying. She asked him to meet just after the meeting and his usual icy heart felt like it was slowly melting from the inside every time she came in his mind. Everything about her, her bubbly and charming personality, her beautiful hair swaying in the wind, her eyes sparkling when she smiled. She was just oh so lovely, he couldn’t believe he was feeling this way towards another human being. She must’ve been an angel, sent for him down on this filthy earth and he was the only person who could protect her from the disgusting corruption of this world. The meeting came to an end, Fyodor adjusted his coat on his shoulders and politely excused himself. Leaving Nikolai even more suspicious, as Fyodor usually wasn’t the first person to leave.

They had agreed to meet in an abandoned church near the music shop where they met. When he arrived, the girl was already waiting at the door, typing nervously on her phone.

“-Hi there my dear [name]” he smiled

“-Fyodor ! Hi !” She greeted back.

She was holding a bag in which he assumed was her point shoes. She had black tights under black shorts, her top was a sleeveless black leotard.

She was really fearless, such a pretty girl meeting a stranger in this part of town during night. He admired her boldness but worried about what could’ve happened to her if she came to someone else instead of him a few days prior.

Once inside, she took a few minutes to warm up and get her point shoes on, when she came back to Fyodor, he was waiting sat on a chair with the cello he had previously been carrying on his back resting between his legs.

The moment she came back into the room he could feel his heart racing in his chest from the pure infatuation he felt for her at that moment. She was so stunning and beautiful, she left him speechless. Fyodor was hypnotized by her, He couldn't quite describe it; even if he were to try. She was definitely an angel.

She was playing nervously with her hair ;

“-So what song should we do ?” She asked.

Fyodor got the impression that she was more than a little flustered at the moment, he could tell from the look she gave him.

“-How about... you pick?”

He said in a warm voice, looking her in the eyes as he smiled lovingly. Her blush was so beautiful, he found himself so enamored by her beauty. Just looking at her left him in awe. He didn't know what she chose, but he was excited to see her dance to any music. She took a minute to think, then her eyes glowed as she answered with a lovely smile :

“-Do you know Valse sentimentale ?”

Fyodor chuckled softly :

“-Yes I do, it is one of my favorite songs to play.”

“-Awesome !” She responded happily.

As she got in position, he warmed up a bit, sliding the bow delicately on the chords. The church’s high ceiling made its sound resonate beautifully in the building.

When they were both ready, they looked at each other. Fyodor counted :

“-3, 4..”

He began to play the song. His soft fingers danced across the strings and his bow flowed gently across the chords of the cello as he played beautifully. Fyodor was just so immersed in the music and how the ballerina in front of him accompanied the notes, she was uniting with the melody, her movements were mesmerizing. The piece he was playing was just so beautiful, almost as much as her. In this moment, everything felt so perfect, the way both of them were so lost in the music, the sight of her dancing, the sound of the cello, it all just was truly beautiful.

The music ended, she looked up at him with a smile. They stared at each other for a bit before she adverted her eyes.

“-That was truly beautiful, I mean it” he complimented. Her cheeks heated up at his kind words.

“-Your music also is, it’s unbelievable how good you make it sound”

The whole situation was truly magical.

“-You are like a flower, so beautiful and elegant. There aren't enough words to describe your beauty. Your mere touch is enough to make my whole soul feel alive my dear” Fyodor smiled lovingly, as he took her hand in his, causing her brain to disconnect, she felt like she was going to explode.

“-So that’s what you were thinking about during the meeting Dostoy, why didn’t you tell me it was all about this cutie right here” a teasing voice echoed on the rock walls of the silent church.

They turned their heads towards the origins of that voice. A certain white haired clown grinned at the two of them from across the room.

#💜🐦‍⬛-Fyodor #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor x reader #fyodor x y/n #bsd fyodor #fyodor headcanons #fyodor x you #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #bsd #bsd x reader #fyodor fluff #bsd x you #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #Spotify

177 notes · View notes