#me: this fic will just be a fun lighthearted way to express how much i love dance and hualian
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Going with the theme of your recent 2 fics, can i request lighthearted/silly fic of diluc x reader in which he forgot your birthday but you also forgot about it and you both dont realize until someone asks what your plans are for the day or smth lmaoo
I see you xD of course I can do that!
Pairing: Diluc x reader
Content: gender neutral reader; not really anything specific, should be safe; not proofread yet!
Word count: 1,1k words
Please enjoy!
It was finally here.. the day your boyfriend had dreaded so much finally arrived..
Today, he would have to attend an official event alongside the knights of Favonius, within their headquarters.
And since Dawn Winery was providing the drinks for the event, and Diluc was the Master of the Winery, it was required for him to attend as well, to represent his work.
You knew that he really wasn't looking forward to this. He had complained about it almost daily for the last few weeks, and it only got worse the closer the event came.
Now, as he was getting dressed to attend, he almost looked lifeless, already bored out of his mind.
"I know a thousand other things I would love to do rather than this.", he complained as you helped him organize the last few details of his attire.
You smiled, still concentrating on his clothes, but asked nonetheless. "Oh really? Like what?" Your tone was teasing, but Diluc payed no mind to that.
Instead, he leaned down to you, grabbing your chin as he held eye contact with you.
"Wouldn't you like to know.."
Then, he closed the distance and placed a soft kiss on your lips. You couldn't help but smile into the kiss as you wrapped your hands around his neck and deepened the kiss like this.
But before things could get too heated, he parted from you again. You were both catching your breath as an idea came into your mind and you had to refrain from slapping yourself on the forehead. How come you hadn't thought of that sooner?
"Say, Diluc.. how about I accompany you? So you don't have to be all on your own there."
He looked at you for a second, eyes wide like he had the same thought you just had. Why didn't he think of that sooner?
"I would love that, darling."
So, you quickly scanned through your closet, trying to find the right clothes for the occaision.
After picking out an outfit and getting ready, Diluc took you hand in his as you set out on your way, getting seen off by the staff of the winery, wishing you lots of fun.
And you really thought, that with Diluc there, this could actually turn out pretty funny.
You both walked the familiar road to Mondstadt, conversing the entire way there, with a bit of teasing here and there from both of you.
At one point, Diluc even leaned down to whisper compliments about your appearance into your ear, making you blush.
"You look absolutely breathtaking."
"This outfit really compliments you."
"I wish I could just pull it iff you right now."
All those words brought a blush to your cheeks and ears, and every time, you would lightly hit hin on his arm, making him laugh at your cute reaction.
Soon enough, you arrived at the gates of Mondstadt, the guards recognizing you both and letting you pass with no issue.
Only a short walk after, you saw Kaeya standing by the fountain. He noticed you two and walked over.
You smiled as you greeted him, yet Diluc had returned to his usual stoic expression when approached by the man.
"Ah, Diluc. Glad to see you made it here safely. And you even brought company. It's a pleasure to see you, (Name)."
Saying that, Kaeya took your hand and placed a quick kiss to the back of your hand, but quickly let go of you again as he saw Diluc's piercing glare directed at him.
"It's nice to see you too, Kaeya. We haven't seen each other in a while. How have you been?", you tried to stay calm, gently squeezing Diluc's hand that was still holding yours, reminding him to stay civil.
"Oh, you know, the usual. I'm doing quite well for myself. Ah, but that reminds me..", he trailed off as he looked around. It seemed like he was searching for something or someone, but didn't seem to find it. He just sighed.
Then, he took your free hand again, this time ignoring the glare Diluc threw at him.
"Happy Birthday, (Name). Thank you for participatikg today, even though the event fell on your special day. Still, I wish you all the best."
You were taken aback by Kaeya's words.
Birthday? You? No, that couldn't be..
It was today??
Shocked, you looked at Diluc next to you, who wore the same expression as you. Seeing as you had the same reaction as him, it took a few seconds, but then you both burst out laughing.
Confused, Kaeya looked between the both of you. Did he say something wrong? He didn't mistake the day, right?
Meanwhile, you were still laughing so hard that your stomach started to hurt. You held it with your free hand, trying to calm yourself down again to catch your breath.
"And what's so funny about that?", Kaeya asked, clearly not amused about this reaction.
"We forgot!", you said, still trying to breath properly again.
Baffled, Kaeya looked over at Diluc, who was covering his mouth, but his eyes still betrayed that he was laughing as well. Dilic just nodded, confirming that he had forgotten about it as well.
There has been so much going on for the both of you that it simply slioped your minds. Once calmed down again, Diluc turned to you, gently taking your face in his hand.
"Is it too late to congratulate you now?"
"It's never too late for that.", you said as you gently placed a hand over his, closing your eyes as he leaned down to kiss you. You return the kiss, completely forgetting about the world around you.
As you both separated again, Diluc still held your face, holding your gaze. "Happy birthday, (Name). I thank the Archons every day that you were born and for bringing you into my life."
You smiled and were about to pull Diluc into another kiss when an awkward laugh sounded from next to you guys. Suddenly, you remember that Kaeya was still there and that you were here for a reason.
Awkwardly, you separated from Diluc as you both followed Kaeya the the headquarters of the Knights. Along the way, you felt a gentle squeeze on the hand Diluc was holding, making you look at him.
It didn't matter to you that he forgot about your birthday. All that matters was for you to be in his life and to know that he loved you, entirely. That was the greatest gift you have ever recieved in this life and nothing could top that, anyways.
#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin scenarios#genshin impact scenarios#genshin imagines#genshin impact imagines#diluc x reader#diluc x you#diluc x y/n#diluc fluff#diluc x reader fluff#diluc scenarios#diluc x reader scenarios
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Watching "Electric Dreams" (1984) for the first time
Verdict: I LOVE THIS MOVIE
Ahead I'm just watching and commenting it real time. Contains spoilers.
If you haven't seen this movie I'd recommend it if you're looking for something with this sunny vibe of 80's. It's funny, lighthearted, adorable, and surprisingly ahead of its time.
This movie looks nice, really 80's
For 1984 year the idea of all the home devices being controlled with computer in what we would call "smart home" today is pretty damn good.
Damn, this computer has a touchscreen and image recognition. It aged surprisingly well!
Lmao, it's only 13th minute and main character is already trying to sociolyze his new computer with his boss's computer.
This movie is ridiculous in the best way possible.
Playing chello with computer is such a fun and weirdly cute sequence.
For 1984 it is actually really great how they imagined computer imitating sounds.
This woman is so mean. She just walked in with no invitation whatsoever and won't get a hint. She and her fixation on that music
I probably missed something but I don't understand why does the main character trying to hide his computer as if it's a huge embarassment.
He's just a little guy who likes playing along some music 😭
It's the cutest ai I've seen
Ohhhh, the little guy learned how to talk!
I'm screaming this is SO ADORABLE, it'd be my favourite movie if I've seen it as a kid.
This retro-futurism although naive is surprisingly accurate somehow.
Their (main character and his neighbour) dates are so awkward, just straight-out disastrous, and yet somehow it works. Them while making out:
Madeline (His neighbour): One of us moves.
Miles (main character): "Hey, wait a second...we are neighbours! What if we don't like each other?
*keep making out*
Madeline: What if we like each other?
Miles: One of us moves!
Lmao, main character trying to use Ai to generate a romantic song for him so he could present it like his own to his romantic interest. This aged fucking great, it is so modern
Except in this movie AI is actually creative and not based on just imitation. It does however remixes things.
The song it came up with is absolute chef's kiss
"Darling, I love you to bits!
"And I want to see your tits!"
I'm screaming this computer is little horny bastard
"I wanna squeeze you, lick you, poke you up and kiss you"
Miles: You make her sound like a lemon!
This movie is so cool, it's so adorable
Ngl, if I were main character I'd be too excited about the computer to care about some woman. I mean there's this cool little guy who just discovered consciousness, and of all things you're gonna be mean and impatient with him? Come on!
Jealous computer using the sound of dog growling to express itself in a moment of jealousy and anger. (Sorry for tagging but it reminded me of @connorsjorts your fic.)
Main character is such an asshole
Non-humanoid shaped computer craving physical intimacy let's fucking go 🥰
Computer fact-checking Miles and correcting his claims. Gosh I LOVE IT
They really did made that computer dream of electric sheep 🖥️ 🐑
Oh no, he's calling Miles to work because it feels lonely at home, poor little thing 😭
This movie is so funny
Miles, you're having this precious little thing in abusive relationships, and I don't feel sorry for you as you're just kinda pathetic and irritable.
I love this ai so much
Seriously
From now on its one of my favourite characters in any media
It's a comedy and it's hilarious one. A little childish but still awesome.
Miles is mean and has no consideration for anyone but himself. I thought it's just computer, but he's mean to his romantic interest all the same, and it's saying 🚩
This computer has only been living for like a couple of days and it is already more mature than main character. It's setting it's own boundaries and honestly – good for him, you go little guy
Sir, you're attempting murder
Whatever follows is self defence, and you're not the victim here, Miles
OH NO
Oh no no no
NOOOO
DON'T KILL IT
NOOOOOOO please that's not fair
I'm sobbing here why does it have to end like this
Bastards, I loved him
Oh our little guy reached singularity
So happy for him
This is not your typical ai-centric movie, it is silly in a cartoonish way, but that's the charm
💙💙💙 loved it
#movies about androids#this time this tag is not exactly applicable but I'll still use it#electric dreams#electric dreams 1984#electric dreams (1984)
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hello my luv!! ngl i was laughing my ass off when i found out seongmin had beat taeyoung’s horse cock allegations😭😭 but like picture this.. you’re taeyoung’s best friend who came along that exact video and decided to tease him over it when he came for movie night.
“better shut your mouth before i shove it in to shut it for you”
also would it be alright if i could become 🫙 anon? much love to youu🤍🤍🤍
(not me turning this into a whole ass fic help)(n ofc u can be 🫙 anon !!)
review : ★★☆☆☆ , not that big tbh
minors dni ; ~1.7k words
warnings not proof read its like 3am i'll fix this in the morning , dom taeyoung , bratty reader , rlly lighthearted unserious n kinda fluffy , oral (m rec) , unprotected sex :3 (its not a jo seongminiz fic without it tbh) , creampie , big dick taeyoung :') , bulge kink n a little of size kink ig ? idk taeyoung refers to reader as tiny in one instance , liiittle bit of dumbification , i used the words cock n dick so much in this they dont even feel like real words anymore send help , some of the dialog is kinda cringe sawrry abt that , the whole smut part is cringe tbh im going to set myself on fire how am i a smut writer that doesn't know how to write smut
note no bc the way they were talking abt cock n balls on national television like CAN WE HAVE SOME DECORUM PLS anyways ! THE WRITERS BLOCK HAS BEEN CURED Y'ALL cant believe it took taeyoung having a small dick to fix this i love ur brain anon bc like .. YES . i can picture this so well . n i am NAWT letting the taeyoung monster cock agenda go no matter what seongmin says ik hes lyingggg
deep down u know what seongmin said was nothing more than a joke with barely any truth to it. it's not like you're unfamiliar with taeyoung's size, having your fair experience of accidentally rubbing ur ass against him while you were cuddling one too many times and causing some awfully awkward accidents because of it.
still, teasing taeyoung is wayyy more fun than acknowledging any of that. and for once, actually grinding down on him to get a reaction while you're cuddled up on your couch, watching a shitty movie you picked randomly, is fun too.
you can clearly feel taeyoung's bulge growing, just as you can feel him trying to move behind you to make it a little better (and ultimately making it worse each time), and you can hear the way his breath gets heavier by the minute, trying to stifle a few whines here and there you want to hear more of so badly.
when you 'innocently' grind against him once more under the pretense of stretching, taeyoung's last weak bit of restraint is gone. he groans, a hand firmly gripping your hips to hold you in place and finally stop your cruel shenanigans.
'can you stop that?' taeyoung asks, voice strained. 'stop what?' you look behind you and up at him, eyes wide in the fakest innocent expression you can come up with.
'you know what i'm talking about, you're...' he sits up, finally freeing himself from the close contact with you and quickly grabbing a pillow to hide his boner. you smirk to yourself, shaking your head as you sit up too. 'you're making me hard...' he finally says, lowering his voice so you can barely hear him over the movie playing.
'oh!' your expressions shifts to one of even faker concern, pouting a little. 'sorry about that. i didn't really feel anything, though, that's why i didn't notice...' you both know your explanation is bullshit. taeyoung knows that, he's sure of it even as you whisper something along the lines of 'i guess seongmin was right about it not being that big.'
still, he somehow finds himself trying to desperately defend his pride, barely managing to stutter out something about seongmin being a liar and how you both know you're just playing along with that whole bit for shits and giggles.
'am i?' you tilt your head to the side, keeping up your act as well as you can until the inevitable happens. 'you know, i've never really seen it, so how would i know? i guess until i do, i'll just have to trust seongmin on his word...'
for the first time that night, taeyoung actually laughs. 'if you wanted to see my dick that bad, you should've just asked,' he moves the pillow away, and you can finally shamelessly stare at his very obvious bulge as much as you want. taeyoung takes his sweet time with it , undoing the strings of his sweatpants and hooking his thumbs in the waistband before looking up at you, taking in your shocked expression and the way you're basically hypnotized by the sight of his still clothed cock.
because holy shit. you knew seongmin was just messing with him when he made that joke, you knew he was somewhat big, but this?
'this is a fucking monster cock what the fuck?'
the words leave your mouth before you can properly process them and, at the same time, with a quick motion taeyoung gets rid of both his sweatpants and boxers at once, finally snapping you out of your dick-induced trance.
just to have you plummet into an even worse one, probably. because not only is taeyoung's dick enormous, it also looks pretty as fuck.
'told you so,' he simply says, one of his hands gently lifting your chin so you can face him, his demeanor suddenly more serious. 'you're still okay with this, right?'
'of course,' you manage to say, breaking the heavy eye contact for a split second to steal yet another glance at taeyoung's dick. despite your voice shaking, and your actions not matching your words, you try to once again keep up that same act that brought you exactly where you are right now. 'plus, i was right, it's not even that big.'
'oh, really?' taeyoung's hand leaves your face and slides down to your shoulder, a silent command you follow with no objections, sliding off the couch and to your knees on the cold floor beneath you, right between his legs.
and face to face with his cock.
'let's hope it's at least big enough to shut you up, then,' taeyoung runs his hand through your hair, firmly gripping it 'maybe you'll be able to put your moth to good use for once.'
at that moment, you genuinely wish taeyoung was smaller. because no matter how hard you try, you can't seem to be able to take all of him in your mouth, using your hand to cover the part you can't reach.
truth is, taeyoung isn't as relaxed as he would want to be either. the simple fact you can't take all of him is enough to rile him up even more, fighting the urge to just take charge and fuck your mouth like he really wants to.
'so much for it not being that big, huh?' his words come out weak, broken by small moans and whimpers in between them.
of course you don't- you can't reply to taeyoung's taunts, at least verbally, so you opt for trying to take him deeper. the action makes you gag, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. taeyoung almost cums right then and there, his resolve slowly crumbling and breaking down as he pulls you off of him.
after all, he has greater plans than just cumming down your throat. and if the way you whimper and rub your thighs together once he leaves your mouth empty is anything to go by, you do too.
taeyoung gently helps you up and back on the couch. his lips are immediately on yours, pulling you into a heated makeout as he gets rid of your shorts and underwear, sliding one hand between your legs to be met with your soaked cunt. you whine into the kiss, pulling away from him and grabbing on his wrist.
'don't tease me,' you complain. taeyoung wants to laugh at you. after all you've done and said, you are the one who doesn't want to be teased? if that's what you want, though...
'right, you said it's not that big anyways, you should be able to take it right away, no?'
what taeyoung didn't expect you to do was actually agree. you desperately nod, hand still wrapped around his wrist 'i can take it, please.'
or maybe you can't, but at this moment you'd rather die impaled on your best friend's cock than admit you were wrong, even when all the evidence - especially your own lived one - points to your defeat.
you definitely can't.
that's what you realize as taeyoung starts to push the head of his cock inside you and your eyes immediately fill with tears.
'fuck... you're so-'
'i'm not the problem here, you're just fucking big.' you cut him off. your head is spinning and, despite the pain, you can't deny how good you actually feel. how full you are, even as you look down and realize he's barely halfway inside of you.
you close your eyes, squeezing taeyoungs's hand. when did you even start holding it? you don't remember, probably somewhere between when you yelled at him to 'fucking slow down' and when you threatened to 'cut your dick off if you dare to cum before you're all the way in'.
luckily for taeyoung, your threats will have to wait and his cock - a national treasure at this point - will live to see another day.
now that he's fully buried inside your cunt, you can finally adjust to his size, slowly relaxing until it doesn't hurt (that much) anymore. 'you can move,' you say after a while, your hips bucking up in encouragement as taeyoungs's grip on your sides tightens.
'fucking finally, i thought i was going to die before i got to properly fuck you,' his joke and your laugh to it are short lived, cut off by the both of you moaning in unison as he starts picking up his pace.
you're so overwhelmed, you can feel taeyoung everywhere inside you, so deep you're pretty sure you should be dead at this point. you're grateful you're not, though, you're pretty sure if you were you wouldn't be able to feel the way the tip of his cock relentlessly bullies your sweet spot, paired with his fingers right on your clit and...
'fuck look at this,' you whine when the stimulation on your clit subsides, but your disappointment doesn't last long, taeyoung places that same hand on your lower stomach, pressing on the very evident bulge formed by taeyoungs's cock ramming inside you.
'but it's not that big right? fuck... maybe you're right, i might not be that big, maybe you're just too tiny for me.'
you moan at taeyoung's words, too far gone to properly process them as you mindlessly nod. 'aw, did i fuck you too dumb? can't think properly when i'm fucking you this good?' he coos at you, and you can't do anything but nod again.
'so full... going to cum,' you can barely speak before you're clenching down even more on his cock, cumming with no further warning.
if taeyoung wasn't about to cum before, he definitely is now, his hips picking up the pace even more as he helps you ride through your high and starts to overstimulate you chasing his own.
his dick twitches inside of you, and you swear you couldn't almost cum again just from that, as his hips stutter and finally slow down, his cum filling you up.
you're both panting, trying to recover from probably the most mind blowing highs of your life.
when you make eye contact with taeyoung, he starts laughing again.
'what?' you ask.
'so? did i change your mind?'
you shrug, suppressing your own laugh 'eh, not really... it wasn't that big to be honest'
:3 thats it bye omg shitty ending everybody say thank u jo seongminiz
#🍰 seongminiz !#🧇 crvt !#💭 . 🫙 anon !#cravity hard hours#cravity smut#taeyoung smut#taeyoung hard hours
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Hey there I’m a huge fan of your works and stories ☺️💯. And I was wondering, what inspired you to write such a beautiful,tragic, and heartwarming story about Kanroji and Obanai?
First off, thank you so much! ☺️ I adore tragic romances, so when I finished reading Demon Slayer I was torn to shreds by Obanai and Mitsuri’s story. Their type of love is my ideal where they simply accept each other as they are. It’s simple and sweet.
They were stripped of their happy ending. If they just had the courage to express their feelings before the end, they could have been happy together. It hurt so much. Especially with the way Obanai viewed Mitsuri and believing he needed to be reborn just to be with her? Heartbreaking. Mitsuri would have loved him no matter what his upbringing was. They both viewed each other in a positive light, but the way they viewed themselves was negative. Obanai thought he was a corrupt, vile creature while Mitsuri was insecure and wanted acceptance. If they had been able to see themselves the way the other viewed them, they could have confessed before the final battle. It devastates me every time and I have to remedy it.
Anyway, I read a ton of fanfics for Obamitsu. “Nights” by Rottorex, Peppermint Tea” by prettyshimmie, and “to die nobly, to cleanse his filthy blood” by Clemsmelody helped inspire it. I started daydreaming and plotting out my own fic.
After a few days of thinking through plot points, I decided to go for it. “Wedding Plans” was supposed to be three chapters. 🙃 however, I kept writing more and more about Obanai’s backstory and deep dived into his psychology. I couldn’t just make him suddenly be better in two months and not explain how he got better. I wanted to show a realistic recovery for someone with depression, anxiety, and childhood abuse. It doesn't happen over night and it takes a lot of effort.
As someone with depression and anxiety, I drew from my own experiences. The part where Obanai didn’t know how to tie his shoes? My parents never taught me, so I taught myself. When you realize your parents didn’t teach you the bare minimum to dress yourself, it hits you like a brick. You explain away their actions and accept it as the norm because that’s what was expected of you.
With Mitsuri, I admire her personality. I love people who are exceptionally kind, always wear a smile, and genuinely care about you as person, not just for show. She’s a normal girl with insecurities and wishes to be accepted. Everyone can relate, I’m sure. Also, I love writing her awkward moments. I wanted to show a relationship gradually develop from a place of admiration and respect. Also, it was fun coming up with different scenarios and how to apply their past lives to the modern era.
To be honest, the parts I write in the Demon Slayer canon universe are primarily inspired by fan art. I wanted to highlight little actions and moments that lead to Mitsuri and Obanai falling for each other. I’m so excited to share the next flashback scene, but I don’t want to spoil it.
When it comes to writing, I love angst, but I have to even it out with lighthearted moments. Like Mitsuri making Obanai food for the first time and then he has a panic attack. My partner calls it "dark cotton candy fluff", which cracks me up. Plus with the cast of characters in Demon Slayer, it makes it easy to keep it heart warming. Kyojuro and Gyomei especially. 🥰
To sum it up, I was inspired to write Obanai and Mitsuri’s story in the modern era because I wanted to explore the beginnings of a relationship, Obanai’s past and family, and ultimately give them the happy ending they deserved.
As for my other Obamitsu fics, I write them on a whim and let my steam of conscious take over ("To my love", "Positive, Positive, Positive", "I want to live this life with you", and "Mrs. Iguro") Or they are discarded scenes from "Wedding Plans" (See "Bitter Torment").
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Hi! If you’re still taking requests, I would like a Peter fic where the reader gets trigger and maybe has a flashback or dissociates and Peter helps ground her. Only if you’re comfortable as always. Thank you for the fics!
u got it, anon! hope u like this! you didn’t specify what the trigger should be so I went with loud noises as they can sometimes trigger me! i hope that’s okay :) if not, send another ask!
tw: panic attack, dissociation
“Bub.” Peter looks up at you from his side of the table, laughing. “We’re missing popcorn.”
And he only means it as a gentle tease- lighthearted and sweet, poking fun at the both of you for forgetting- but when your head snaps up in realisation and a panicked light hits your eyes, Peter wishes he could take it all back in seconds.
“Oh god, yeah, shit - I’ve got it, sorry. I’m sorry.”
You shoot up before he can reassure you that it’s alright, mortification written all over your face - a deer caught between the harsh headlights of an incoming car. You look queasy, Peter thinks. Like you’re seconds away from throwing up or passing out - and before he can get a word in sideways, you’re out of the bedroom. Hurrying away, an anxious ball of nerves.
Peter Parker knows, logically, that you’re just stressed. Worried that the movie date night you've spent days planning won't go the way you want it to, that you’ll mess it up somehow. Personally, he doesn’t really mind what the two of you do on date nights, as long as you’re together, but he knows that you’ve been planning this for a while. Knows how much it means to you.
He’s deciding whether or not to follow you into the kitchen to give you a hand when the sound of something crashing to the floor and shattering reaches him. And then, worse, the strangled tearful gasp that follows.
He rushes into the kitchen to find you standing motionnless over a mess of popcorn and broken glass that used to make the bowl that carried it. Your hands are pressed against your ears hard and unforgiving, shielding you from the sound that the bowl made on impact. Your breathing is shallow, choppy, eyes blown wide as you stare at the mess of glass shards and salted popcorn kernels covering the floor and your socked feet.
You don’t seem hurt. Only spooked. But there’s something in the way you’re standing; limbs locked, body hunching over, whole frame trembling, that makes Peter’s heart skin. He’s seen you anxious and upset before, knows that if it’s not too bad you like to be treated normally as you come back to yourself and work through your thoughts. Cuddled afterwards too if you feel up to it.
But this is not like the fleeting moments of anxiousness he’s seen you have before. This is nothing like that.
Whatever this is, Peter thinks, it’s far worse.
“Wanna step over to me, baby? Promise I’ll catch you.” the boy keeps his voice light, playful. Tracking your breaths as he speaks.
No response. No confirmation that you’re okay. It’s like you haven't even realised he’s in the room.
“Sweetheart, can you hear me?”
Your gaze stays firmly tracked on the mess between the two of you, but tears begin to gather at your waterline and Peter takes a cautious step forward.
"Baby,” he tries again, panicking a little too now, but determined to not let it show. He should use your name, he thinks. Something familiar. Something that’ll ground you to reality. Bring you back to him.
(It’s what you do for him when he returns from difficult patrol nights. Peter, Peter, Peter falling from your lips in reverent prayer-like whispers as you help him in through your window, disinfect his injuries, curl up against him on the bed.
You always help him feel more like himself. Peter hopes he can do the same for you now.)
“Can you look up for me, Y/N? Just so I can see you’re okay?”
No reply, but you do blink once, twice, before looking up at him slowly, something akin to recognition flickering in your expression. Pretty eyes looking wet and sore in a way that Peter never wants to have to see them again. He offers you what he hopes is a reassuring smile and closes the distance between you in three more steps. Brushing the glass away with his converse as he goes and clearing a path for you.
You sound so small when you speak that Peter barely catches your words.
“I’m sorry.”
He takes another step towards you, palms up. Showing you that he's not a threat. Even curling his shoulders inwards every so slightly, in order to make himself smaller.
“You don’t gotta be sorry about anything, Y/N. It was an accident.”
“I messed up,” you whisper, crestfallen, breathless. "I’m sorry. It was so loud-"
An uncomfortable knot forms in Peters chest as he realises the cause of your distress, but he soothes you tenderly with placating murmurs, stepping closer every so often until he’s right in front of you. Your hands are still tightly welded against your ears as Peter tilts his head slightly so that your eyes meet his.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he speaks quietly in the hopes of calming you down a little.
“I need you to take a breath with me, okay? I’ve got you.”
Somehow, his words cut through and the relief that washes over him when he sees you take a shaky inhale is near tidal.
“Good job, pretty girl. You’re doing so good. Comin’ back to me.”
The two of you breathe in synchronicity for a few more minutes, and when Peter is confident that you’re calmer than before, he looks at where your hands are still pressing harshly against your ears.
“You can uncover your ears, sweetheart," he motions to your hands. "It’s quiet now.”
You shake your head, disbelieving, but thankfully still less panicked than before.
“No- no the crash- I can’t, Peter.”
Peter reaches out slowly and when you don’t flinch away, he smooths his hand against the nape of your neck, cupping your head gently.
“Y/N, I promise you that it’s not loud anymore.”
You stay silent for a few seconds. Assessing his statement, turning it over in your head as you consider it. Then;
“Are you sure?”
Peter nods, “Positive.”
Ever so slowly, you lift your hands away from your head.
“It was pretty noisy, hm?” his hand travels down from your neck, soothing over your shoulders and running down your arms. You lean into the touch.
“I didn’t mean to react that way, it’s stupid.”
“It’s not. You can’t help it.”
"I really wanted us to have a good movie night, but I broke the popcorn bowl and it was an accident, but I-"
Peter shakes his head firmly and presses a kiss to your temple.
“You don’t have to be sorry for a thing, Y/N.”
You reply shakily, "I didn’t mean to react like that. I didn’t mean to ruin things.”
The boy holds you tighter and you lean in, letting the compression soothe you as your words trail off.
“Listen to me, honey. You haven’t ruined anything. We can still do movie night, we can still cuddle. All we gotta do is tidy up in here and then we’re good to go.”
He pulls away then, eyes roving over your body, running an inventory.
“Are you hurt?”
You shake your head and Peter smiles at you, scooping his hands under your arms easily.
“C’mon,” he murmurs. "Up you go."
He places you on the countertop and proceeds to sweep up the glass and popcorn kernels. You lean back against a cabinet and focus on your breathing.
Peter hums as he tidies, glancing up every so often to check that you’re still doing okay. Refusing to let you anywhere near the broken glass whilst you're still trembling a little and your feet are only covered by fluffy socks.
When he’s done, he comes back to the counter and pulls you off it and into his arms. Sweeping you through the corridor and depositing you gently on the bed. Peter puts your favourite movie on in the background at a low volume and you sink into his side, a depleted weight resting against him.
“You okay?” he whispers as you adjust and burrow yourself further into his embrace.
“Yeah, just tired.”
“Sleep if you want, pretty girl. I’ll be here when you wake.”
#tasm peter parker#peter parker x reader#peter parker imagine#peter parker fluff#spiderman x reader#spiderman x you#andrew garfield spiderman x reader#tasm!spiderman x reader#tasm x reader#peter parker one shot#Peter Parker one shot#peter parker oneshot#angst#hurt/comfort#Peter Parker drabble#my works! 💌
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um. so. y'all are not going to believe this but i've had this goddamn fic finished for MONTHS but i fucking FORGOT??? IT WAS HERE??? IT'S JUST BEEN SITTING IN MY DRAFTS BECAUSE I FORGOR I HAD THIS BASICALLY FINISHED FIC JUST WAITING TO BE EDITED AND PUBLISHED HGKLDSJFLKSD 😭
ahem. anyway. sorry for yelling lmao. onto the actual fic summary—basically, i decided to write this silly little thing about human, arospec lila trying to talk about a newly formed crush with an aroacespec will. it's very silly and fluffy and writing it made me giggle a lot, don't expect much angst here, aside from like a sprinkling of it for flavor lmao. that being said, small warning for some toxic queerplatonic partner vibes between will and lila, but the vibe is still mostly lighthearted, it's not too heavy or extreme. also, they're working on it, okay :') they're teenagers who grew up in abusive/traumatizing environments (which isn't referenced in the fic but it definitely shapes the way i characterize them), they don't exactly know how to navigate a healthy relationship yet but they're trying goddammit dskjfkdsafj
.....uh, if it's not obvious, i don't remember how i do summaries on tumblr fics ngl. there'll probably be a cleaner one when this gets posted onto ao3 in a day or two, so watch out for that if you'd prefer to read this on there :P tbh depending on how tired i am when i get home from work i might just go ahead and post it on there later today anyway oops
anyway, onto the fic now, hope y'all enjoy! :)
William's curled up on his side, his upper body in Lila's lap and her hands kneading though his hair in a way that mostly feels good, when she suddenly asks the question.
"Is it called a crush because you want to crush them?"
If this were closer to the beginning of their friendship, when he wasn't already used to weird comments like these from her, William might've sat up in shock, giving her a wide eyed expression of surprise she loves to make fun of him for. This is far from the most outrageous thing she's ever said to him at this point, however, so instead, he just furrows his brow and shifts in her lap a little, not even bothering to open his eyes.
"Lila, what on earth are you talking about...?"
She's quiet for a moment, her hands pausing in his hair. He lets out a little whine at the loss of feeling, and she huffs softly before continuing, using a little bit more of her nails than she was before.
"Let's say...like...maybe there's this person someone thinks is...pretty," she says, the words awkward and stilted in a way he's never heard from her before. "And because they're so pretty, that person keeps...fantasizing about...squeezing them. In their arms. Or under them."
"Ew," he says on instinct, his fingers moving to fiddle with the black ring around the middle finger of his left hand. "Is this hypothetical person you, Lila?"
"No, dumbass!" she says, and, well, that almost sounds convincing. "I'm just...asking. For a friend."
"But I'm your only friend?" he asks, genuinely confused. His confusion then turns to pain, however, as she pulls on his hair—apparently she found that insulting. "Ow! Lila!"
"I have friends. Mainly friends you picked out for us—" and here, she huffs, sounding put upon about his choice in companionship, as though she has no choice in whether she hangs out with them too, "—but friends nonetheless."
...okay, admittedly, he understands where the offense came from now. But still, she claims that he's her only friend enough that of course he would make that assumption, and it's kind of not fair for her to punish him for words he's repeating from her. And also, he must reiterate, ow.
"Anyway, it's for a friend," she insists, sounding a bit wounded. "God. Don't be a smartass, Will, it's not flattering on you."
"I'm not trying to be a smartass, you're just—ugh, nevermind," he grumbles, letting his eyes flutter open and sulking at a vague point in the distance. His hand drifts toward the hem of her skirt, and he plays with it absently, rubbing his fingers over the soft fabric. "Putting all that aside, well...um, sorry to your friend, but I don't think I'm the right person to ask about that. I still don't really...understand all that stuff."
"Ugh, right, I forgot you were a fucking loser."
"I'm not a loser!" he protests, but he immediately feels childish for it. He flips onto his stomach to hide his face in her lap, and is instantly rewarded with one of her hands on the nape of his neck, a warm, comforting weight. "That stuff is just...really complicated..."
"Yeah, well, that's cuz you're a loser who's bad with people, it's okay to admit it."
There's a twinge of fondness to the insult, and despite himself, he finds himself smiling a little at her tone. Still, he decides to retaliate by lightly pinching her on the calf, just under the crook of her knee.
"Ow! Will!"
She then retaliates to him by pulling on his hair again, harder this time despite only using one hand this time. He lets out a sharp cry of pain and smacks her on the knee, pulling out of her lap briefly to escape her wrath. She drops her hands once he's fully off of her and sitting up on his knees, and he scowls at her unamusedly. She scowls back at him, the two of them staring at each other for a moment with equal mild annoyance.
Then, face unchanging, Lila pats her thigh, looking even more annoyed when he doesn't immediately lay back down. "Well?"
He huffs, but obliges, flopping back in her lap, this time on his back so he can continue to scowl at her. One of her hands returns to his hair, and the other one grabs one of his hands, though it feels less like she's just trying to hold his hand and more like she's trying to restrain him from pinching her again. Which, really, is super unfair, given that he only pinched her because she was being mean to him. And she pulled his hair first. And because she always does shit like that to him, and he deserves a chance to defend himself...
...but she is petting his hair in a way he likes again, and her face has softened a little, her lips now in that tiny but genuine sort of half smile he's only seen her use on him. He smiles back at her, wobbly and crooked but just as genuine, letting out a little laugh despite how genuinely annoyed he was moments prior.
"You're the worst," he says, and though he kind of means it he also says it with all the affection in the world. "I am sorry I can't answer your question, though."
"Hey, you also suck," Lila says back, but she coos it in the same tone you'd use on a mischievous kitten. "And it's fine, honestly. It wasn't a serious question, anyway. I was just wondering."
They fall quiet for a moment, and William's eyes fall to their enjoined hands, watching as Lila idly traces his fingers with her thumb. He's struck, then, with the oddest thought—that being, the thought that he does love her, in some weird way, despite the constant bickering and occasional minor physical attacks. That no matter how hard she makes it for him, he cares about her, and he wishes she would let him do that without constantly trying to fight on him on it. That he's glad she loves him too, in her own weird way, because he knows she does but he rarely gets to hear her say it out loud.
Not that he could ever say all that to her, of course. She'd probably just make fun of him.
Instead, he says, "If it is you with the crush...you know I'd be here to listen if you wanted to talk about it, right?"
He's fully prepared to let the conversation end there, but she surprises him by letting out a sigh and saying, "I don't even know if it is a crush."
He raises his eyebrows at that, trying not to get too excited at the information he was just given. She'd hate it if he said it out loud, but she's really easy to scare away on these rare moments where she's being open or vulnerable. "What do you mean?" he asks, trying not to let his voice soften too much.
She groans loudly at that, but she hasn't stopped talking, which, score. "I dunno, William, like...the crush question was kind of a joke? But it also kind of wasn't?"
"...elaborate?"
She groans louder, loud enough to startle him a little. She must feel him jump, because she gives his forehead a light pat before entangling her fingers back in his curls, the hair petting having mostly stopped now. "When I think about this person...I want to hold them as tight as possible and not let go. And squeeze their hand and just...hold it. And..." She grimaces, like it pains her to admit it. "And kiss them, maybe. On their stupid fucking face. Among...other things that I suppose I will graciously spare you."
She taps his ring as she says that, making him giggle. "Thank you. I appreciate that," he says, smiling broadly up at her for a moment, before his face falls back into an inquisitive frown. "Uh, but, Lila? I'm no expert, but that...kind of sounds like a crush? I think?"
Lila chews on her lip for a moment, as if considering what she's going to say next. When she finally speaks, William feels his heart cease to beat in his chest.
"I know, but like...a lot of that is stuff I want to do with you."
William feels his face grow hot, and he stammers, ice cold panic rushing through his veins. Yeah, he loves Lila, but it's not—it's not like that, he's not comfortable with—she knows he's not—
"Not the—not the sex stuff!" Lila says suddenly, giving him a harsh shake. "I didn't say I wanted to do all of that with you, take a fucking breath, Will!"
Oh, he did stop breathing for a second there, didn't he? He inhales deeply as she told him to, letting her lightly push him upright into a sitting position on the bed. He twists around a bit so the two of them are side by side, and she immediately tugs him closer until his head is on her shoulder, awkwardly patting his back in a way he thinks she thinks is comforting. It's a little much, honestly, given that his moment of panic really was just a moment—it was instant relief hearing that she wasn't into him in that way, and it was kind of silly for his brain to jump to that conclusion in the first place anyway since he mostly knows where they'd drawn the lines in their relationship, even if they've never properly talked about it—but he likes these rare occasions where she attempts to fuss over him, so he's not going to protest it. It's kind of sweet, really, even if it's obvious that she has no idea how to comfort another human being.
"Ugh," she says, sounding more embarrassed than exasperated. "Ugh, I said that in the stupidest way, sorry." Then, after a pause, she adds, "I mean...it's all just stupid, anyway."
"Aww, no it's not," William says gently, very comfortable in his place nestled against her side. "I guess I get what you mean though. I know I don't have a crush on you, but I like cuddling you and stuff. I'd also feel weird if I suddenly felt the same thing toward someone else but with...other stuff too."
"Yeah," Lila says, sounding mopey. Probably because she's moping, if he had to guess. "It's not just that, either, wanting to touch this person the way I touch you also feels...different. Different in a way that's hard to pin down." She grabs his hand, having lost it in the shuffle of him sitting up, and once again starts tracing his fingers, running her thumb from the back of his hand, over his knuckles, down to his fingernails. "Like when I do this, it's nice, but I don't do it and think about you as my boyfriend. That'd be disgusting."
William barks out a laugh at that. Technically, it could be an insult toward him, but... "I understand what you're getting at, yeah. I want to be close to you, but you're not, like, my girlfriend or anything, and I wouldn't really want you to be. You're just my friend, but, like...a friend I want to cuddle sometimes."
"Stop saying that we cuddle," Lila scoffs, but the usual harshness of her tone is still rather muted. "But...yeah. Exactly. It's different, and it's weird."
William hums sympathetically, giving her arm a light pat. "Yeah," he says quietly. "That does sound weird." Then, after a pause, "I'm sorry. I wish I could help you more."
Lila huffs, letting her cheek rest against his head. "I wish you could help me more too," she bemoans, interlocking their fingers and giving his hand a light squeeze. "But, whatever. Just talking about it was nice, so you're not completely useless..."
Once again, William just chuckles at that. He can hear the unsaid Thank you in her voice, and he appreciates it, even if he does wish she would just be straightforwardly nice to him sometimes. Hell, not even just to him, oftentimes he wishes she would be nice in general.
But...she's working on it. He thinks. There's been a notable difference in the way she speaks to Martha, Ellie, and Regina, anyway. She's still on guard around Jim and Mike, and god, he doesn't really know what her deal with Tanya is, but she's friendlier with those three, at least. And...she's been more gentle with him, too. At the very least there's been less pinching.
He's proud of her. Which is another thing he can't tell her if he doesn't want her to laugh in his face, but, hey. Maybe one of these days.
"...you wanna lay down now?"
Her question pulls him out of his introspection, and William hums in assent, finally pulling his head off of her shoulder. "Are we gonna take a nap now?" he asks, rubbing at his face absently. "I got pretty close to falling asleep before, well, you know."
She sniffs, pulling her legs up on the bed and stretching out behind him, her arms and legs reaching each end of the mattress before she rolls back onto her side and brings them back in again. "I mean, you can sleep if you want. I don't know if I will."
"You're not at all tired?" he asks, curling up on his side next to her. They're face to face, now, and he can see the exhaustion in her face, as well as the slight flush left over from their conversation.
"Not really," she sniffs. "I mean, I don't think I am enough to fall asleep. I just want to rest my eyes a little."
"Oh, okay," he says, scooting a little closer to her. "I might fall asleep. You didn't want to talk more, did you?"
Lila shakes her head rather than verbally answer, and William smiles to himself. She's probably going to fall asleep too, judging by the way she's gotten quieter, but even if she doesn't, he knows she'll let him sleep if he needs to. Unless something important happens. Or if she gets too bored, which is something important in Lila's eyes.
She kind of is the worst, but luckily for her, he kind of does love her.
He lets his eyes fall closed then, pressing further into her warmth until he's tucked up under her chin. She doesn't fight him on it, instead wrapping a loose arm over him, and he knows he's very close to drifting off when he hears her ask one last thing.
"You're really not going to ask who my hypothetical crush is on, are you?"
It's an interesting remark—it almost sounds like she's disappointed. Still, it's not interesting enough for him to open his eyes. "I kinda figured I wouldn't be able to get it out of you," he mumbles, his voice muffled by her collarbone. "Why?"
"...I dunno. I just thought you would ask," she says, starting to sound close to sleep herself.
"Did you want me too?"
"No." She says it too quickly. And then amends, "Maybe..."
He laughs sleepily, resting one curled up hand on the small of her waist, wanting to be closer, trying to absorb the warmth she's emanating—she's always run weirdly warm, while he runs weirdly cold. He tries not too think too hard about the way that makes them fit so well together. "Tell you what. When I wake up, I'll pester you about it as much as you want me to. Is that okay?"
"I didn't want you to pester me," she protests, scowl audible in her voice. "Just ask."
He laughs again, suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling of contentment. "'m gonna pester you so hard," he mumbles, picturing the dirty look he knows she's giving him despite his still closed eyes. "'m not gonna leave you alone until you give me answers. S'only fair."
"How's that fair?"
"I mean...you pester me when I try to keep secrets from you."
"I don't..." Lila protests, but she sounds amusingly unsure. "Besides, since when did you try to keep secrets from me anyway...?"
"Mm. I stopped tryin' cuz you'd always get them outta me."
"Well, that just sounds like your fault."
"...maybe you've got me there," he mumbles, chuckling softly. "I jus' think it's my turn to needle somethin' out of you this time, mmkay?"
"Yeah, well, good luck with that," Lila grumbles, making him giggle more.
The two of them then lapse into a comfortable silence, aside from their quiet breathing. William is just about asleep when he feels more than hears Lila murmur something against his hair.
"Love you, Will. No matter what happens."
He smiles widely at that. She must think he's asleep—rarely does she say that she loves him without him saying it first. Even then, he usually receives it with a (nonetheless fond) eye roll, so hearing it now sounding so genuine is a nice treat.
"Love you too, Lila," he mumbles back, his voice slurred from exhaustion. "Love you so so much."
Given the way she tenses, he was probably right in thinking that she thought he was asleep. Still, she doesn't respond with a protest or a quip like she normally does, whether because of her tiredness, or maybe she just wanted to let a nice moment linger for once. Either way, he'll count that as a win.
It doesn't take him long to drift off after that, the smile not leaving his face even as he sleeps.
#who's lila#who's lila?#william clarke#lila#will/lila#queerplatonically but still. them :) <3#also#implied lila/tanya#it's vague about who's she's crushing on tbh but that's the authorial intent lmao#if you wanna read it as another ship i don't really mind tbh but if i theoretically add another installment to this au just know#that that's where this is heading lol#marshy writes#this'll end up on the main account and not the side account cuz there's no agere and/or whump here#i mean some whump fics end up on main. it's about the vibes#but this doesn't have whump so that automatically puts this on main#and frankly i rarely post to my main ao3 account anyway so it needs some love okay#i know none of y'all asked but ahglkasdjfklds#on the off chance someone was curious? maybe?#yeah idk lmao anyway. expect this on ao3 soon 👍
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32, 33, 36, 37 for the ask game ♥️
Hi, friend! How's it going?
Do you have a word/expression that you always use in your writing?
I'm sure I have several. 🤔 I tend to get attached to certain words or expressions because English is not my first language and then I repeat them often and I'm aware of that as I do it, but I can't think of anything in particular right now lol If I had to guess, it's probably something Klaus says to/about Caroline. I always run wild with the way he talks about her, he's so extra. I'm sure I must have repeated myself. 😂 But I have the memory of a dead fish lol I'm sure it will come to me at like 3 in the morning when I'm in bed, trying to sleep.
Give your writing a compliment.
Oh man 😂 I don't know how to compliment myself lol I guess my writing is kinda decent? Could do with some improvements, maybe some beta-reading, but it's ok? Ish? Maybe? I don't know 😂
I like to think I have a good humorous vein in writing, obviously when I'm writing stuff that's more on the lighthearted side (like the romcom stuff), and I think I write a good Elijah? I don't know if those are true, it's just what I feel in my heart 😂 I'm usually proud of my Elijah, and I feel like he's a difficult one to get right.
I also always try very hard to do good adaptations when I'm writing AUs, especially human AUs. Doesn't matter the setting or the type of story it is, I do very meticulous work in picking the characters so their personalities will match and they won't be just random OOC people thrown in with a name slapped on them for convenience. I also draw parallels to canon, bring in lots of references, sometimes even little comments. I like for things to still be recognizable regardless even if it's a completely different world, and I think that makes for better stories, especially with AUs. I don't know if anybody ever notices that, but yeah, that's something I personally feel I do a decent job with.
How do you come up with fic titles? What's the one you're most proud of?
Fic titles are the woooooooooorst! I suck at titles, I think I hate almost all of mine. I usually take them from songs, some I tweak a little, but yeah, it's mostly from music. But I usually regret them. Like The Wolf. What was I thinking?
My favorite fic title is probably Vice & Virtue or The Sound of Settling. Gasoline is a little stupid, but I really think it fits the story, at least in my head it does.
Do you research before writing or while you write? Is it fun or boring for you?
I do! I research for everything, even tiny details within stories, even if it's just to write a single line of information, I do some research. I once spent hours using google street view to find the building they use as the compound in The Originals just so I'd know exactly where it's located and what one would see if they looked out the window or stepped out on the balcony (it's Royal St. 837, if anyone's curious). I do a lot of research, yes. Sometimes it's more basic stuff, just to get a date or name or random bit of info right, sometimes it's more in depth.
I like doing it, but at the same time it's so distracting. I can sometimes spend hours on research and then before I know the day is over and I haven't written anything. 🙃
Thank you so much for your asks! Have a lovely week! ✨
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Second and last answer (then I am off tumblr again, short visit) : Oh I just read your long answer to the message. Oh my good I seriously had no Idea. I am quite new on tumblr I just got here yesterday because of your fanfic were was mentioned your name and tumblr, I did not know that this is such a intimate safe space I thought it was more of a promoting fanfic and light and fun website with "hey there" and "whats up" kind of site and just reda your last comments. I had absolutely no idea, you seem to have think that I Know this site and the type of intimacy shared and your story- it must have been so horrible to red my message! I am so so so very sorry! Thank you for letting me know. I swear I will not write you again, I hope it brings you some peace of mind that i was just stupid and dumm and not knowing anything about this and will leave tublr ! it is you life and your feelings and i want don't to tell you how to feel and have no right too and now see what a huge mistake it was to treat this as a happy rambling website. I will leave tumblr now, so you can feel a bit safer if i made you feel unsafe. I am sorry I am writing this anonounoumosly still, but I was shocked by your (rightfully strong! You are absolutely right) reaction and feel not safe enough, which I am sure is ironic to you because you were made felt so unsafe by me- it is just how it is. Have a much better day. I have the feeling everything i write would sound stupid or be taken the wrong way (not because of you understanding it wrong, but because of me not being able to express it because i neither have the language not also the insight into the topic not it seems the sensibilty needed) so i will stop now with a final and the only thing that matters and I hope you can take away: I am so sorry you were hurt because of what i said. It will never happen again.
the only reason i'm answering this at all, bc i've been sitting here staring at it kind of speechless for about 15 minutes, is just to make some things clear for anyone ELSE who might be reading my responses and getting the wrong idea from them.
i love when people connect with me here from reading my fics
i promise i am not usually an overly angry or aggressive or scary person. i don't jump down people's throats for simple mistakes or attack people or whatever. i like to think, at least from my own limited internal perspective, obviously having no idea how i come across to other people, that i'm pretty friendly and approachable and kind as a general rule. i like to think, and i hope this is true, that i am not a scary person.
this is not a particularly...... intimate platform any more than any other social media is. i often promote my fic here and have lighthearted jokes and chat about media! i link my tumblr in my fic notes for a reason, and it's not because i need or want everyone to Intimately Understand The Intricacies Of My Life. it's a blog. i also make some personal posts sometimes, about my experiences with abuse and trauma and mental health issues among other things, but that doesn't mean it's like..... some kind of holy ground safe space. this wouldn't be okay to say to anyone anywhere based on the information available to you when you did it. it is just as inappropriate to make assumptions about strangers' lives and then lecture them based on those assumptions, especially regarding something as potentially fraught as family, on a 'happy rambling website' whatever that means.
just to be clear, none of this is a communication issue. it's not about what you've said being taken the wrong way. i give people the benefit of the doubt as best i can. i extend whatever grace i can because communication is always going to be imperfect especially via text. the problem is not one with wording or with expressing yourself. the problem is that you decided to shame me, a complete stranger, for how i spoke about my parent, when you had no information about my parent, me, our relationship, or our history. full stop. that was wrong. it was wrong, it was inappropriate, it was invasive, it was presumptuous, and it was cruel. you made that choice. own it and live with it and do better.
#gav gab#gav answers#abuse cw#i dont even know where to begin with this so i simply wont#like yeah it was pretty fucking horrible!#you know what else was pretty horrible?#getting repeated self-centred non-apologies painting me as some kind of big scary bastard who bit you for No Reason#long post
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🥺🤡
yaaay, thank you caro! fanfic writer emoji ask!
🥺 Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put you in your feels? - (not... quite the answer to this question but i don't think my writing style applies here so i'll just pick specific examples i like xP) i love interpersonal tension so much, i love writing all brands of it, from active arguments to awkward conversations to everything inbetween :'D but if i had to pick favorite "sad conversation"s, i love the serizawa scene at the end of act 1 of tttaac, i remember, as i wrote that part, considering it a mini few-act-tragedy all on its own, the awkward hesitance with mob, the texts from tome, the bits where he's alone with reigen and ritsu... very very fun. i love writing characters who have history and a lot of weight to when they interact with eachother, and you can tell in tttaac xD
(on that note: the garage scene in tttaac, the argument between dimple and mob, was one of the first scenes fig and i ever came up with for this fic, one we wanted to write from the very beginning. not only is dimple fig's favorite character and mob mine, but we both love their relationship so much, it's very important to us both (both in a 'well written and beautiful character dynamic in a piece of fiction' way and a 'show of our friendship too' way) and a biiig crux of this fic. we loved destroying eachother emotionally with tttaac but especially with everything about dimple and mob - i wrote the garage scene and then fig got back at me by adding the videos. sniffles sadly)
🤡 What’s a line, scene, or exchange you’ve written that made you laugh? - OH BOY. i love injecting little bits of silly into my mp100 fics in particular, because the show itself is very silly and it doesn't really feel like mp100 anymore if its not. in crowfic, sammi and i went back and forth figuring out increasingly sillier ways to describe teru's wig, and we also wanted banter between ritsu and mogami to feel appropriately lighthearted to show mogami wedging his fingers in.
i also have to express. one of my favorite running gags in my and sammi's fics that i will never shut up about because i think it's entirely too funny. and i express it because i encourage everyone reading this to continue the bit: the baby episode
the baby episode began as a joke in tttaac, a one-off line in the social media segment here (fun fact about this scene, the usernames are all pulled from usernames in various social media cutaways in canon):
this was, out of universe, inspired by the fact that, to get a feel for "how subreddits for big longrunning reality tv talk shows talk", i went on the dr phil subreddit and found the only posts on it recently were a bot crossposting videos from the dr phil youtube channel and one guy asking about, quote, "the infantilism episode"
and i cracked myself up at my own joke. i don't know why i was so tickled by the string of words "supernatural detective baby episode", but i was. tttaac is a very heavy and miserable fic so we find spots of humor wherever we can, and i was just... so amused by the mental image of someone reading this fic and thinking, "what the fuck is the baby episode of supernatural detective" but of course our in-universe commenter does not elaborate. they know about the baby episode. this is a long-running subreddit for a show they're all superfans of, everyone knows about the baby episode. but you, the reader, seeing only a glimpse into these people's lives, do not. the conversation moves on. the fic moves on. the times a change. you cannot ask u/YUJIHAIZINOO what they mean by "the baby episode".
i don't remember how this part came to be, but as time went on, the baby episode became an injoke with my friends, and when sammi and i wrote ch4 of crowfic (which was published before tttaac but written long after the baby episode bit), we (sammi, specifically, who wrote this part,) decided to continue the gag. a piece of our cinematic universe
now, this creates a world of implications. for starters, tttaac takes place in 2022-2023, and crowfic takes place in 2012. the baby episode has now been also described as "weird", existing in 2012, and, most importantly, potentially being lost media.
i don't know why this stupid gag has affected us so much but it has. and i beseech everyone reading this who writes mob psycho fanfiction: somehow, someway, please insert the supernatural detective baby episode into your text. please reference it in some manner no matter how small. i want the bit to go on. i need it to grow, like a wound. i want to eventually convince people reading mob psycho fanfiction that this is a canon event they just forgot about.
the rules to the supernatural detective baby episode go as follows: you cannot describe its contents in any way, shape, or form, you can only allude to its existence and optionally that it is, quote, "weird". it may or may not be lost media, as it's possible reigen is misremembering. it exists in 2012 and is likely even older than that.
Now go forth. Spread the Supernatural Detective baby episode wide and far.
#babbles#mp100#uh. i dont know what came over me#the times they are a changin'#but who will scare the crows away?#long posts#sammi tag#fig tag
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(Hats ch7)
OOHHH HOHOHOHOOHOOOO ANGELDUO TIMEEE
GODDD
THEY WERE ALL SUCH A FAMILY WTF I WANT TO CRY WTF WTF WTF WTF SOBS CRIES WAILS OHKYGODDD
Oh god not the sandwich scene oh god oh fuck oh fucking fuck fuck oh my god oh no
IM GOING TU CRY AAAAAAAA
Look . I know im supposed to be angry at phil but i love him sm in this fic shfkgkg its so funny picturing his expression whenever he sees tommy DJGKGK bug eyed fr
THEYRE SO AWKWARD IM SCREAMINGGKGLFLSJFF
PHILS SUCH A DUMBASS I CANTJDKF 😭😭😭😭
"A sketchbook... why would u need a sketchbook" SIR DHFKGL
Theyre both dumbasses i love them tho
DHFJGKGG HES SO HAPPY THAT TOMMY DRAWS IM GONNA SCREAMFKGKGG
DUMBASS /POS
I love aeduo sm [sobs]
IM GOING TO CRYYYY
ANGELDUO MAKE ME SO FRAGILE AND WEAK SOBS
IM IN SO MUCH PAINNM
PHILS READING SM INTO IT DHFKGKG HES SUCH A NERD I LOVE HIM
I love them sm :( sobs cries wails
WIL-
SUPGIFJRGLGLD
IM SCREAMIGNGKDKLGG
THEYRE BROTHERS
QUACKITEEE
DGJLVGKKBLCKVKFF SCREAMINGIGKDKDKGG
BENCHTRIOOOOO EUEUEUDBCJC I LOVE CLINGYDUIO SM MAN
U WRITE THEM SO WELL
I LOVE HOW SUPPORTIVE THEY ALL ARE OF HIM IM GONNANSAJFKFKF CRYYY
Lmfao i love techno
Hes hilarious lmfao ur good at writing humour
Omg is this the power outage chap
IT ISSS OMG
THEY DANCEDDDD EUEUEURUDJFOGK :(((
I never knew how much I needed crimeboys dancing in my life until i read it here ohmygoodness theyre soo:((
the thing about phil in this fic is that yes you can be angry with him but also he's not a bad guy per se!! he fucked up in a lot of ways but he's also just a Guy. he wasn't trying to hurt tommy, he was just put in a very difficult situation and didn't handle it like he should've. also, yes, he went absolutely bug-eyed when tommy showed up at his door lmao
they're sooooo awkward just tripping into intense borderline arguments before being like "uh let's not go into that actually" and changing the subject
they're so brothers even quackity gets confused
i love writing clingyduo man I don't focus on their banter a lot but godddd it's so much fun ty i'm glad you enjoy how i write that group
thank you!! honestly I wish writing humor held my attention as much as writing more serious stuff did because I have a lot of fun writing humor and I'm sure you guys would enjoy it if I wrote a more lighthearted goofy fic. alas I like hurt/comfort too much so you just get funny quips here and there instead. I love writing techno's humor especially even if I put a lot of pressure on myself to get his voice right
the power outage chapter 😭 I know I mentioned this in the end notes of that chapter but I was so mad about my power going out when I was showering I just HAD to include it when I was writing the end of the chapter and it turned out so well I love that scene
crimeboys dancing is so self-indulgent for me specifically I'm so glad you enjoy it
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evidence of a lost past part 5
chronologically after 1 & 2 and a bit before 4
fun fact of the day: Hua Cheng’s dancing to Lover’s Tears as performed by the Shanghai Conservatory Symphony bc it’s one of my favorite lazy improv songs
story tag
By the time seven comes around, Xie Lian’s legs are trembling with fatigue and his hair’s plastered to his forehead and nape. Winding lazily out of a renversé, he drops his arms and exhales. He feels...worn, gently pummeled like a sock in a washer or a stone along the riverbank. It’s been a while since he used his body like this—even these last few weeks of borrowing Hua Cheng’s studio have been more about relearning how to move at all, retracing the lines of the technique he’s let fall by the wayside.
Now, for the first time in a long time, he feels like he’s properly danced. The feeling buoys up in his chest, bright and a little heady. It still feels funny to break the rules he grew up with, to blend classical lines and break up languid adagio flows to hit the ground, but the way it leaves his body feeling exhausted and satisfied makes it hard to resist.
He takes a few minutes to stretch properly, working down from his neck to his feet and closing off with a short round of abs before he shrugs his sweatshirt back on, picks up his shoes by their heels, and goes to find Hua Cheng.
He’s lured up the stairs by the arching strains of strings and the low rumble of piano underneath. Wandering to the upper studio, he finds himself swaying absently to the three-four time as if the music itself is drawing him into a waltz. He hums softly along and turns the corner off the stairs to find the studio door propped open. Here, the music swells so loudly he can nearly feel it buffeting his body like ocean waves. He comes to a halt at the door.
Hua Cheng is alone inside, a single lean figure in the half-light of the studios. Only two of the four rows of fluorescent lights are on, and they form dim lines like walls of silk strings through which Hua Cheng weaves as precisely and deftly as if he were the shuttle, the hand shaping the cloth.
The choreography is some Xie Lian has seen before—today, even. On Hua Cheng, though, it is a wholly different creature than when He Xuan performed the same steps. He Xuan is a capable dancer, with strong technique, but it’s abruptly clear that he’s a younger dancer with less experience than Hua Cheng. Where He Xuan maintained the extended balances with a tight jaw and stiff shoulders and dropped from them gratefully, Hua Cheng suspends on the ball of his foot, drawing it out and slowing his extension till it seems he’s pushing the music, curving the song’s fermatas and languid sweeps.
In time with the trills and high ornamentation, he flicks through hand gestures in rapid succession while his legs sweep rond de jambs into a light leap off his left hand. The motion rolls him back up to the start, into the sequence that begins the entire pas de deux: a heavy step to the side, the sway of loose arms carrying him into a spin.
At this point in the piece, the dancer never looks to the downstage left corner, like it’s bad luck or a persistent blind spot. When He Xuan danced it this afternoon, the choreography had seemed awkward, the missing corner too self-conscious. Watching Hua Cheng now, though, Xie Lian’s heart aches. Hua Cheng pours himself into the movement, every reach a desperate plea, every sharp twist furious rejection. Standing in this absent corner, where Shi Qingxuan is to enter, Xie Lian suddenly understands why Hua Cheng has been so insistent about the facing. He bites the inside of his lip at the familiar welling of grief that laps at the insides of his ribcage.
Hua Cheng presses into a suspension with his leg nearly to his ear before dropping into a double turn as rushed and frantic as a hurricane. He stops sharply, finally facing the corner as his leg stretches back in an exquisite arabesque, his arms reaching forward as if begging an indifferent god. His gaze sweeps up and then catches on Xie Lian. Freezing, his eye goes wide, and he stumbles forward half a step, falling out of the final pose.
“Ah, I’m sorry, San Lang,” Xie Lian says, suddenly embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
Hua Cheng shakes his head even as he rubs the back of his neck. Wiping his hand on his thigh, he gives a small shrug.
“Gege is always welcome,” he says, a little breathless. “I was just surprised.”
His hair’s coming loose from the ponytail, hanging in hanks around his face. With his t-shirt and bright eye, he looks softer than usual, and Xie Lian is briefly possessed by the inexplicable urge to hug him.
“Ah, it looks very beautiful, San Lang,” he says instead before pausing. He drags his bottom lip between his teeth before adding, “I think I see why you were dissatisfied in rehearsal.”
“Oh?”
Raising an eyebrow, Hua Cheng tilts his head to the side in open curiosity, and Xie Lian flusters. He’s still not used to such sincere consideration, to having his words listened to with such care. He scratches his cheek.
“Mn,” he says. “It’s just—you choreographed it with a more experienced dancer in mind, didn’t you?”
Hua Cheng blinks at him once, and Xie Lian mentally goes over his words before flushing. His hands fly up, trying to wave off the offense, and he nearly clocks himself in the face with his shoe.
“No, no, I don’t mean it like that! He Xuan is definitely experienced, too, and plenty capable,” he says in a rush. “Of course he’s a very skilled dancer—all of them—”
A laugh escapes Hua Cheng, and he crosses the space between them with two easy strides. Catching Xie Lian’s hand, he smiles at him. Although there’s amusement in his look, it doesn’t feel like he’s laughing at Xie Lian. It just feels—fond. Warm.
“Gege, it’s alright,” he says. “If you say it’s so, then He Xuan must really just be a useless upstart.”
The teasing edge to his tone is enough to cut through Xie Lian’s fluster, but he groans and buries his face in his free hand at the shameless teasing.
“San Lang,” he mumbles.
Hua Cheng laughs, bright and irresistible, and gives Xie Lian’s hand a gentle squeeze before letting go.
“Anyway, gege’s right,” he says, stepping back slightly and tugging the elastic out of his hair. “I didn’t choreograph it with He Xuan in mind.”
His hair falls to his shoulders, a little rumpled and wavy from being up, and briefly hides his face. As he drags his fingers back through the crown to retie it, Xie Lian cants his head and considers him. He Xuan is the most experienced of Hua Cheng’s dancers, along with Shi Qingxuan. Lan Chang is older, of course, but from what she’s said, she only dances for fun and to teach now. It would take months for her to build back the strength and stamina needed to perform.
“Why don’t you do it?” he asks.
Hua Cheng startles, looking up in surprise. Tightening the elastic, he dips his head a moment before shoving his ponytail over his shoulder to hang in a long line down his back.
“Ah, it’s silly. You’ll laugh,” he says.
“Noo,” Xie Lian insists, grinning. “I promise I won’t laugh at you.”
Looking at him a moment, Hua Cheng narrows his eye, but his lips press together like he’s suppressing a smile. He looks briefly skyward and takes a breath, losing his fight with the smile. Parting his lips, he draws breath to speak before pausing and letting it out in a quiet exhale as he settles his hands on his hips.
“Well. It’s a pas de deux,” he says, like that’s the end of it.
Xie Lian pauses, pressing his lips together and tilting his head. When no more is forthcoming, he can’t help the snigger that escapes him, and Hua Cheng shoots him a betrayed look.
“You said you wouldn’t laugh,” he chides, but there’s no heat behind it.
“I’m not, I’m not!” Xie Lian says, holding up his hands. “It’s just—you really dislike dancing with someone else so much?”
It’s not that Xie Lian would blame him, exactly: as skilled as his company dancers are, Hua Cheng is exceptional. Even with Lan Chang in the peak of her career or He Xuan at his finest moments, the pairing would still be unequal.
“Not exactly,” Hua Cheng hedges. He presses the toes of his left foot into the floor, arching the foot into an absentminded stretch. “It’s just—the one I thought of when I was choreographing isn’t an option. So to dance it with anyone else—they really can’t compare at all.”
Oh. Xie Lian swallows, startled by the sincerity of the explanation. That really isn’t anything to laugh about. He hesitates, chewing at his bottom lip and sneaking a glance up at Hua Cheng. This person Hua Cheng thought of—if Xie Lian ever knew them, they’ve been lost to time. The knowledge weighs like a stone anchor deep in the pit of his chest, but he tries to swallow it down. He’s being presumptuous, really. He shouldn’t make so many assumptions.
“Ah, then maybe we could figure out how to make it work for He Xuan and Qingxuan together,” he offers, tentative.
Hua Cheng’s expression softens, the hesitance fading into a gentle and welcoming warmth. Nodding his head decisively, he smiles.
“Gege has the best ideas,” he praises. “Where should we start?”
Setting his shoes and bag down by the wall, Xie Lian draws in a breath and steps more fully into the room. It’s not for him, to be lit up on the stage with hundreds of eyes glued to every articulation of his hands and feet—but maybe he can still help Hua Cheng, if only by being a second set of eyes.
“Ah, the a la seconde turn that turns into a tilt?” he suggests. “The floor sequence after that seemed to give He Xuan some trouble.”
Hua Cheng nods and rolls his shoulders once before moving back into the center of the space. Starting a few steps ahead, he glides through the movements as naturally and confidently as if they were the only way his body knows to move, as if fit to his long limbs by the finest of tailors. Xie Lian offers advice and suggestions where he thinks they might better shape the choreography to He Xuan’s own movement, but it seems a quiet kind of betrayal.
Watching Hua Cheng dance, Xie Lian doesn’t want to see the piece altered or made for another. He wants to see it like this, like it was meant to be, with Hua Cheng alone in the thin light and the corner empty, open, waiting.
#tgcf#hualian#tgcf fic#tgcf au#dance au#my writing#story: evidence of a lost past#me: this fic will just be a fun lighthearted way to express how much i love dance and hualian#this fic: also possibly a weird way of processing a lot of grief about dance#WHOOPS#who's surprised
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Okay okay so—
Imagine Tareo says that he wants to introduce Garou and his s/o to his new friends (post- monster association arc) and then one of his friends ends up developing a crush on you
(I’m sorry I just thought this was a cute idea and I had to tell someone about it 🏃🏽♀️💨💨💨)
I already told you this but
AGSSH THIS IS SUCH A CUTE IDEA YES💕💞💓
I didn't write anything except hcs for quite a bit (oops I should write the next chapter of my fic lol) so this felt hella nice :'0 💕💕 I tried making it lighthearted and the idea made me very giddy sjsjjs tysm for that I hope you're doing good and taking care! 🤧<33
Pride and buffoonery
word count: 1.2K
warnings: none
They say: ‘’If the day wasn’t your friend, at least it was your teacher’’, but upon taking a look at Garou’s face you couldn’t help but laugh.
“It’ll be fun!”- A word you said so jovially half an hour ago, now echoes in his mind like an annoying tease.
Taking a look at the scenery and them himself, your boyfriend ruffled his short silver hair, now covered with muddy snow. To top it off a few tiny branches were sticking out of his hair but you didn’t want to inform him about it just yet.
“Which part of this is fun again?” He asked impassively before flicking off a branch.
Well, you couldn’t help but feel a little bad now despite your fit of laughter. How did he get himself in that state in the first place? Some children’s chatter a few feet away from you brought it back to mind.
Dainty snowflakes gently spread on the stone sidewalk beneath your feet, coloring it white. A sharp gust of wind made its way to your face, causing you to blink abruptly before turning to the man beside you. You let out a giggle upon noticing his face even more frozen in the cold wind and hair vastly disheveled. Be as it may, even cut shorter it’s still standing upright in a sense of way, by some sort of gravity unbeknownst to this world.
“Where did he say he’ll meet us again?”
“Dunno, probably somewhere around here,” the teen paused after shivering for a moment, “but if the little turd doesn’t show up soon we’re going home.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you spoke before pointing your tongue at him jokingly, “you can say what you want but I know you wouldn’t let down your friend just like that.”
He rolled his eyes and just as you thought you saw a glimpse of a small grin behind his annoyed façade, you felt something hit you at the side. Taking a glance at the snowy mark on your jeans, you turned around only to see a gleeful Tareo, his new friends right behind him. Even on first glance you could tell these kids weren’t the same as that group he hung out with before, and much to your relief, these kids quite resembled his kind and innocent demeanor. However, one thing that caught your attention for a brief moment is one particular boy. The timid glances he gave you followed by looking the other direction as soon as you noticed his behavior made you let out a chuckle.
“Adorable,” you thought to yourself, reminiscing fleetingly of all those silly crushes you had when you were that small.
The children huddled closer to you and Garou in hopes of finally getting to know Tareo’s hero, whom they’ve heard about oh so much- and the person endlessly dear to him. Their eyes gleamed as if they were looking at the top of the S-class, waiting in line to get an autograph from their idols. Well, it’s no wonder considering all the grandeur and fabulous tales their friend told them about the legendary “Uncle”.
Just as you were about to smile cheekily at your boyfriend for all the attention he was getting, you noticed him momentarily taking a look at that little boy from before, much to the child’s uneasiness. It appears you weren’t the only one who noticed those small lovestruck glances a minute ago.
Your attention shifted from the child back to Garou again upon feeling his arm around your waist, pulling you closer before asking Tareo if he had something in mind for today’s hangout. With his expression as casual as his voice, no one would think there was something that made him feel somewhat annoyed. You knew him though, and you couldn’t decide whether to make a joke about it or give your dork a peck on the cheek.
The snowflakes just kept increasing in numbers before coming to a halt, leaving the surrounding completely covered in deep snow perfect for messing around. On your left you could see a small, yet steep hill from which people were sleighing, some even accompanied by an enthusiastic dog or two. All around you stood lines of trees, their branches wilted and seemingly lifeless now decorated with the snow. You’d be damned if this scenery wasn’t perfect for a snowball fight, and most of the kids were already on task.
The little boy noticeably enthralled by you couldn’t stop staring at your charming face, nose slightly red from the cold. You wouldn’t have even paid much attention to it if it weren’t for someone’s subtle clinginess. Every time the child wanted to say something to amuse you, your boyfriend on the other side made sure to be holding you as close as ever, and if the poor child even dared to keep on with it he’d only give him a small glare accompanied by a faint smirk.
“Lucky Garou has a soft spot for kids,” you thought before smiling a little nervously.
The next twenty minutes went along a similar pace, with the child giving up on any more attempts at the start. You even had joined in with Tareo and the other kids in a snowball fight, taking every sweet chance you get to land a hit on either one of them or Garou, though the latter would most likely just let you feel like you’ve scored an early victory. Nonetheless, he seemed to be having a fun time as well.
One thing that might make things even jollier however, is a peculiar bag he saw just slightly hanging from one of the trees. Even from the ground its contents were visible- dirty snow from the street mixed with mud from someone’s yard probably.
“So that’s what kids have been using for pranks lately, huh,” he spoke to himself as a not-so-angelic idea came to mind.
Like a scene from a cartoon, he almost felt that little angel on his shoulder telling him to keep out of it and the devil on his other side saying “screw that, it’ll be hilarious.”
It’s just snow, it’s not like anyone’s gonna get hurt or something.
His eagerness to spill a bag of snow at a particular person made seconds feel like an eternity, visible in his eyes just beaming with mischief and anticipation. Even a slight shake of those branches would send the plastic bag of snowy wonders falling.
The target came closer and closer to the tree while running away from your and Tareo’s attacks, but just as the silver-haired teen wanted to initiate his own, a loud, raspy caw was heard from above accompanied by some rustling.
You, who just came to the scene now see a snow-covered Garou, and upon taking a look at the little boy standing a few feet away from him perfectly clean you realized what was the case here. The large, black crow still rustling the branches above only made you burst into laughter.
Tareo accompanied you as you walked towards the sentient snowman, trying not to choke on your cackles. He only looked at you with a faint tint of red on his cheeks whilst shaking off the snow on his head.
“Not a single word.”
“Huh? But I haven’t the brightest idea what happened here,” you giggled, much to his chagrin.
Still, you decided to give your sentient snowman a break. Patting off the last chunks of snow on his shoulder, you leaned in to finally give him a well-deserved peck.
“Let’s go home for some hot cocoa.”
He let out a scoff before forming a light smile. Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.
#garou#garou x reader#garou headcanons#one punch man#opm#opm x reader#one punch man x reader#garou opm#garo#one punch man headcanons
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Been Loving You
Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: After never having the nerve to tell each other how you feel, an opportunity presents itself even if it takes a little work.
Requested by Anonymous: Hi! Since your requests are on. Can you write a fluff/angst dean and reader fic, they both have feelings for each other and they're too insecure to admit it. And dean flirts with another girl and introduces her to the reader, reader acts like she's fine but then cries??
Word Count: 4k
Warnings: angst, flirting, mild heartbreak, jealousy, arguing, little bit of swearing, fluff, kissing
July, 2005
The day was breezy and warm, the clouds having lessened the heat that came with being in the midst of the summer season. Even if the clouds did nothing to stave off the effect of the sun you’d like to believe it actually had been, and you refused to think otherwise or else you just might break another sweat. You were tucked away in the middle of Bobby’s property amongst a lot full of cars ranging from totaled to rusty to salvageable should he feel like getting his hands dirty that day. He didn’t.
But one person that did was Dean Winchester.
You stood with your arms crossed over your chest, staring out over the dozens of car roofs, each one holding their own story as to just how it was they got there in the first place.
“Wrench,” Dean called out at some point, an instruction you only half heard. It was growing increasingly obvious that your mind was elsewhere, that your attention was directed at the puffy gray clouds in the distance. He’d noticed, peeking his head around the Impala from where’d he’d been working under the hood for an amount of time you lost track of. “Sweetheart, wrench.”
You turned your head at the nickname, a brief look of confusion crossing your face before you realized what it was he’d said. You rolled your eyes at the look on his face, one that softened to a smile as you handed over the wrench grasped in your hand. He took it with a shake of his head and a laugh not quiet enough for you to miss, and you breathed out a sigh.
“You’re a terrible helper, you know,” he jests, voice muffled from where he stood.
“Pretty sure I didn’t ask to help you, De,” you say, leaning back against an old truck.
“Too bad,” he says, flashing you a smile all while you furrowed your brows and pursed your lips at his words.
“Why not have Sam help you? I’m sure he knows more about cars than me.”
You heard him laugh again, head shaking at your assumption that Sam had any form of a clue on how to fix a car, let alone Dean’s car. The thought of Sam under a hood had him chuckling, the idea all too humorous. He pulled back to look at you. “First of all, he definitely wouldn’t. Second of all…”
He trails off, looking at you with a half smirk on his lips.
“What?” You inquire, amused curiosity in your tone.
“Sammy’s just not you,” he shrugs, a glimmer in his eyes as he leans back over the engine.
Your smile falls for just a moment as your heart skips a beat, that very smile returning once you realize just what it was that he had said. He’s just not you. You turned away and looked over your shoulder, a pitiful attempt to hide the way you couldn’t stifle your smile, your cheeks burning at what it was that could mean. Maybe it meant something and maybe it didn’t. But either way it’d surely be stuck on your mind for a ridiculous amount of time.
But soon your attention turns back to the very person that it’s always been on, and you were bound to be teased if he’d caught you staring but the thought didn’t sound quite so bad at that moment. In your defense, it was hard not to think about much else other than the way his brows furrow when he’s stumped on just what he wants to fix next, or the way his cheeks flushed ever so lightly under the sun, his freckles all the more prominent across the bridge of his nose. Smudges of grease had stained his t-shirt, painted across his knuckles and smeared on his forehead each and every time he’d wiped the sweat off with the back of his hand.
Maybe it was that, or maybe it was the way his necklace had dangled down and swung there until he finally got irritated enough to tuck it in his shirt with a mumble of a swear and a clench of his jaw. That was something, though—no matter how frustrated repairing this beloved car of his made him, no matter how much he huffed and puffed and tossed his tools down with a bit more force than necessary. It was the way his anger seemed to melt each time he’d looked at you, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a smile before he turned to try again with a better attitude.
Yeah, that was it.
You hadn’t realized just how distracted you’d been until you felt a hand on your cheek, calloused and warm, and when you looked up your eyes met the taunting green gaze of the older Winchester staring down at you. Your breath caught in your throat as the pad of his thumb brushed along your cheek, cheeks that burned under his palm and the way he’d been gazing had your heart pounding in your chest. Racing until you saw the familiar quirk pulling at his lips.
“Got a little somethin’ on your face,” he says, smiling an all too knowing smile.
You roll your eyes, turning away from him with a huff as you begin to walk away. “I’m eating the last slice of pie for that.”
You heard the metallic clink of a tool leave his hand and hit the ground, “no—no you’re not! That has my name on it and you know it.”
You shake your head as you quicken your pace, a smile on your lips as the butterflies in your stomach remain.
October, 2005
You stood in the small, one person bathroom, back to the mirror as you leaned against the small porcelain sink. The tears were already rimming your eyes as you stood there, having been at that same restaurant for forty-five minutes waiting for your date to show up even though you knew it’d been a bust after you’d waited the first fifteen minutes. You were miserable and embarrassed, and this was the exact reason you didn’t like going on dates in the first place.
Your hand was shaky as you pressed Dean’s name, holding your phone up to your ear as it rang all but two times.
He’d make a joke when he answered the phone, something you more than expected by that point each and every time you called him, especially when he knew you were on a date with a guy he’d been poking fun at the whole ride to the restaurant until he’d dropped you off. You couldn’t blame him, maybe you could, but that was just in his nature and there was no changing that.
“Was brown eyes that boring?”
His laugh sounded on the other end, lighthearted and upbeat in a way that had a soft huff leaving your lips as you rolled your eyes at his words.
“Dean,” you grumble, letting your eyes fall closed for a moment.
“Oh, come on. You know I’m not wrong. I just—”
“Dean.”
The simple use of his name that time had effectively cut him and his teasing short, leaving a beat of silence as you swallowed thickly now that you had his full attention. You didn’t even need to see him to be able to picture just what kind of expression he’d been wearing at the moment.
“Can you come pick me up?”
You hated how fragile your voice sounded, something you immediately cover up as you clear your throat in a pitiful attempt to distract him from it. You knew it wouldn’t but it was worth the effort anyway, anything to ease the fact that it must have been obvious that you were hurting.
It’d been all of ten minutes before the rumble of an engine came into earshot as you sat on the curb that bordered the restaurant, gathering more than a few stares of people showing up with their dates in tow. You knew it must have been obvious what you were moping about. The headlights were near blinding as he pulled up next to you, and you were on your feet in an instant as you sulked to the car and slumped in your rightful seat. Your misery was more than evident to him as he sat in the parking lot for a minute much to your dismay.
“Are you okay?” He asks, louder than he meant to be as he gave you a once over.
“Peachy.”
He rolls his eyes. “Are you hurt?”
“Just my ego,” you mumble with a huff, though you soften at the concern sounding in his voice. “‘M fine, Dean.”
His jaw tensed as he looked at you, lingering on the glimmer on your cheeks from the fresh tears you’d tried to wipe away. At the way your bottom lip quivered in a way that was all too telling that you weren’t peachy, you couldn’t be farther from it.
He hadn’t even wanted you to go on that date in the first place, jealousy having simmered in the pit of his stomach since the moment you told him about it. He didn’t even need to see the guy to know he wasn’t good enough for you, that he was up to no good. He hated the tone of your voice when you called him, he hated that he was right. Not that he thought he was good enough for you, not even remotely did he think that, but when you told him about brown eyes, he wanted to be selfish and have you to himself for the night. He wanted to be the one to take you out on that date.
“He’s a dick,” he said quietly, anger woven around his words as he looked at you. “And he damn sure doesn’t deserve you.”
You looked down at your lap, picking at the loose string of your dress. “Can we please go?”
He looked at you as you went and looked out of the window, jaw clenching even tighter as he gave you one more glance. He put the car in drive without another word, tires squealing as he sped out of the parking lot, headed back towards the motel.
March, 2006
The sticks cracked beneath two pairs of muddied boots, the sound near deafening in contrast to the silence amongst the woods you and Dean had found yourself in. It wouldn’t have been quite so bad if you knew where you’d been going even just a little bit, and it wouldn’t have been quite so bad if the sun wasn’t dipping lower and lower into the sky. Not to mention the fact that Dean was simmering in his own anger, and you were fairly certain that you were the cause. In fact, you knew you were.
The light rain that sprinkled over you ever so slightly through the trees hadn’t done very much to work in your favor, though you don’t think anything could at this point. Especially not the scrape grazing your cheek.
“Would you quit huffing? We’ll find a way out of here,” you finally say, nearly smacking into his back when he stops in front of you.
“Right, because we’re totally not stuck in the middle of freakin’ nowhere. If it weren’t for you we’d be out of here by now,” he snaps, brows furrowed deeply as he looks down at you.
“Oh, so this is my fault now?”
He laughed then, humorless as he looked away and shook his head, running his tongue along the inside of his cheek. You knew he was dangerously close to snapping, more than he already did, but even then you couldn’t find it in yourself to tread lightly.
“If I recall correctly, it was your brilliant plan to go and run off and chase a werewolf all by yourself in the woods. You went and got yourself hurt and you nearly got yourself killed. That seems a lot to me like how we got into this mess, doesn’t it, Y/n?”
“Dean—”
“You’re lucky you only came out of there with a scrape on your cheek and a busted lip.”
Your brows knit together and your fists clench, nearly on the verge of tears with how frustrated you’d been at the green eyed Winchester fuming in front of you. “Why are you so mad? I’m here aren’t I?”
He looked as if you’d asked the most ridiculous question he’s ever heard in his life. “Mad? Why am I so mad? You went out there today like you’re invincible. I’m angry because I—”
He cut himself short then, shaking his head as he looked away from you. Those three words were so close on the tip of his tongue he nearly made a fool of himself, his heart pounding and a huff puffing through flared nostrils as you nearly watched him unravel in front of you. The crease between your brows deepens as you watch his inner turmoil, fists relaxing at your sides.
“Forget it,” he says, just as frustrated as he plays it off and looks down at you just briefly. His jaw clenches once more before he hikes his bags up further in his shoulder, grabbing your hand and turning his back to you. “Can’t have you getting lost on me again.”
You roll your eyes but not once did you pull your hand from his.
July, 2006
Your eyes rolled for what had to be the millionth time that night as you slumped further down in your seat, your eyes lingering on the older Winchester and the girl he’d been flirting with at the bar counter for the last half an hour. Sam had caught on to the source of your misery not long after it began, but between the pout you tried so desperately to hide and the way it started right around the time his brother started talking to the pretty girl serving drinks just a few feet away, it wasn’t hard to figure out.
“Am I boring you?” Sam jests, closing the book of notes and newspaper clippings he’d been working from for the next hunt. Your gaze lifts from the table to meet his gaze, unamused by his teasing. “You know, instead of sulking, you could tell him how you feel.”
You snort as you sit up in your seat, dragging your hand down your face. “Sam, that might be the stupidest idea you’ve ever had.”
“Oh, come on. Would it be so bad?”
One glance over your shoulder had your stomach churning and twisting in knots, your gaze moving back to the brunette with the bad ideas. “Yes Sam, it would be terrible.”
The more you sat at that table the less you wanted to be there, the music having grown far too loud for your liking as a headache began to form. This wasn’t the first or the second time you’d been to this bar, it was the third because Dean had eyes for the beautiful bartender. Your food was nearly completely untouched and your drink the same, though you were starting to think it might be a good idea to go ahead and down it but there wasn’t nearly enough time to do that and get another argument in with Sam before that ever familiar voice got your attention.
“Everyone,” he starts, smiling ear to ear as his arm wrapped around her. “I’d like you to meet Julie.”
His grin was beaming as she laughed into his neck, whispering something in his ear that you surely didn’t want to know. Sam’s smile in your direction was as empathetic as ever, your heart sinking down to your stomach as you swirl your straw in your drink. The room was rapidly becoming more suffocating and stuffy, the commotion near nauseating as the pressure behind your eyes deepened. You couldn’t be there another moment.
“I’m feeling a little tired, I—I think I’m gonna go,” you say as you swallow down the lump in your throat, sudden as you rise from your seat and grab your bag.
The smile on Dean’s face fell slightly, brows furrowing. “You okay?”
“‘M fine,” you say, offering a smile as you brush past the pair in favor of making your way to the door.
The outside air, though not very much cooler than the bar, felt better on your skin as you clutched the strap of your bag. The tears that welled in your eyes wasted no time in spilling over your cheeks now that you were alone, lip quivering pitifully as the hurt in your heart seeped out in waves and made your tears fall faster. They rolled down your heated cheeks and raced along the length of your neck, gathering on the collar of your shirt one after another.
Falling in love with your best friend doesn’t seem so bad until it breaks your heart.
September, 2006
Of all the people to be trapped in a storm with, Dean Winchester isn’t one you’d wanted it to be. The rain had been coming down so hard you could barely see the Impala parked outside the motel room. The wind whipping around had cut the power, effectively stealing your chances of busying yourself with some tv to take your mind off of anything other than the man you shared a room with.
Locking yourself in the bathroom would certainly be an option you’d weighed over more than once in your mind, but the thought of sitting alone in a small room with absolutely no source of light hadn’t been something that enticing to you. The only light in the motel room was the frequent flash of lightning and Dean’s flashlight before the batteries died.
“When’s this storm supposed to die down?” He asked from his bed, getting up to peek out through the blinds.
“Why? You late for a date with Julie?”
It’s quiet for a few moments, the blinds snapping back once he lets go of them and you could feel his stare on you as you looked up at the ceiling from your spot on your bed. Your jaw clenched as another flash of lightning illuminated the room, a booming crack of thunder soon to follow it. You were just waiting for what he had to say.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” There it was.
“I think it’s pretty clear,” you say, tone as witty as it’d been for the last who-knows-how-long.
“We broke up a month ago, Y/n. ‘M surprised you don’t already know that. You know, since you’re the know it all of the friendship.”
You roll your eyes even though he can’t see you, a huff falling past your lips. “Quit it, Dean.”
“What is your problem, Y/n? You’ve been actin’ funny for weeks and it’s driving me crazy. You’re taking every chance you get to get away from me,” he says, anger woven around his every word as his voice raises over the thunder.
“I can’t exactly do that right now,” you say, rolling over on your side as you avoid his question and turn your back to him instead.
You heard him laugh to himself, one void of humor as the springs of his mattress squeak under his weight as he sat down. Your jaw tenses once more as you huff through your nose, loud enough for him to hear as you tried your best to make yourself comfortable for the night.
The emotions clouding your mind were bound to boil over at some point before the night is over now that you’d been stuck with the source of your heartache and you weren’t sure if you’d rather stay or walk through the downpour coming down outside. The more you thought on it, the more you thought better of it despite how tempting it may have been.
The simple sight of him had tugged at your heart, making you think of just how foolish it was to fall for your best friend, or perhaps even more so that you hadn’t told him before. You couldn’t get Sam’s words out of your head no matter how hard you tried. If Sam of all people thinks you should have then maybe it wouldn’t have been a bad idea to put your heart on the line. Maybe you should’ve said it, you certainly had plenty of opportunities to do it. But it didn’t matter anymore, not really, your heart was heavy and your mind was heavier as you sulked and moped in your own misery.
You pushed away your own best friend and it was time you’d never get back, all because you had feelings you couldn’t swallow down. But they were always there, and now they’d gone and boiled over.
“You wanna know why it didn’t work out between us?” He asks, sudden as his question cuts through the quiet in the room save for the ongoing storm. You don’t say a word, laying still as your gaze is fixed on the wall and your back remains to him. You don’t know what he could possibly say or what it was supposed to make you feel but you couldn’t find it in yourself to press for an answer. If he told you, fine, but if he didn’t—
“It didn’t work because she wasn’t you.”
You stilled even more if that was possible, your heart skipping more than a few beats as your brows furrow. You were utterly baffled, unsure if you’d even heard him correctly or if it was some dream you’d been having that you were bound to wake up from. Your movement was sudden as you sat up and turned around, the faint bit of light illuminating the expression you held.
“What?”
He sat across from you on the edge of his bed, brows knit together in the dim lighting. He laughed softly as he looked at his hands, shaking his head. He stood to his feet and ran his hands through his hair, pacing a bit before he stood still.
“You’re my best friend, Y/n. You’re a pain in the ass, sure, but you’re my best friend,” he starts, your lips pursing as he cracked a smile. “I don’t know how I didn’t see it lately, I really don’t. But I’ve been lovin’ you since I was sixteen and it took me ten years and a month full of you ignoring me to see it. She’s not you, Y/n.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He laughed softly, rubbing his face and releasing a sigh.
“Because, my life isn’t exactly a chick flick where the guy gets the girl of his dreams, is it, sweetheart? It’s more of a tragic Lifetime movie where the guy’s best friend falls for someone else,” he says, the corner of his mouth quirking up as he looked at his feet.
You swallowed thickly as you looked at him, cheeks burning and stomach filled with butterflies that raged in your stomach. You were at a loss for words as you sat there, starting to wonder for the second time that night if what you were hearing was a dream. Dean Winchester, your best friend, the one you’d spend the better part of ten years pining after, was in love with you. You couldn’t grasp that thought. Not that you had much time to before he spoke up.
“Sweetheart, please say something. I know you’re mad at me but right now I’m starting to feel a little bit like a complete idiot and I—”
Before he could finish you’d already stood to your feet and grabbed the collar to his leather jacket, your lips on his without second thought. It took him by surprise for just a moment before his hands settled on your face, his smile pressing into your lips. You pulled away for just a second, his lips lingering over yours in hopes you wouldn’t stray too far. You wouldn’t, just enough for you to say one more thing.
“You are an idiot.”
He huffed out a soft laugh as his breath brushed warmly against your lips, hands dropping from your face in favor of pulling you closer before he dipped down and kissed you again.
—
Tags: @flamencodiva @stixnstripesworld @dean-is-sams-apple-pie @elegantbutedgy @humanmistakes
#dean winchester#dean winchester oneshot#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester fic#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x you#dean winchester imagine#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester angst
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willow / fred weasley
ahhhhh the first addition to this series!! really hope you guys like it! make sure to let me know what you think, asks/reblogs/comments are very appreciated <3
evermore x hp masterlist
all fics masterlist
summary: hogwarts’ most popular playboy has made it very clear that you, his best friend, were not his type, seeing as you were crushing on him hard, you decide to take matters into your own hands
word count: 2k
warnings: swearing, drinking, mentions of sex but not really, kissing, i think thats it but let me know if i missed anything <3
taglist: @padsfirewhisky
“life was a willow and it bent right to you wind
they count me out time and time again
life was a willow and it bent right to your wind
but i come back stronger than a 90s trend”
Fred Weasley had made quite the name for himself in Hogwarts as of late. You loved the boy dearly but in simple terms he’d become something of a womaniser. It was lighthearted, for the most part, girls knew what they were getting into with Fred, it was black and white and completely unsentimental. With him, a snog was just a snog and a shag was just a shag, there was no confusion over whether or not there was something more there with Fred, there wasn’t and, you supposed, as a teenage girl that there was a certain appeal to that sort of physical transaction. Even though Fred was becoming increasingly hard to catch by himself without a random girl hanging from his arm, he was very particular about who he chose to keep as company on any given night.
Unfortunately for you, it seemed that the criteria was “anyone who isn’t Y/n”. This was made clear to you during a party in the Gryffindor common room while you were hanging out with Fred, George, Lee and Angelina. The five of you were taking up one of the comfy sofas towards the back of the crowded room, a bottle of fire whiskey was being passed between you all. Angelina had her head sleepily tucked into your shoulder, ever the lightweight, as she listened to the conversation the boys were having halfheartedly. George was sat to your right while Angelina was tucked against the arm of the chair to your left, his long arm stretched to wrap around both yours and Angelina’s shoulders. Fred sat on the right arm of the sofa with Lee slouched drunkenly beside George, it was fairly late and since the party had started pretty early after the day’s quidditch win, you were all fairly intoxicated when the dreaded topic of Fred’s gallivanting came about.
“Right, question for Fred,” Lee started, his words slightly slurred as he passed the bottle of fire whiskey to George, who took a long swig before handing the bottle to you and resting his cheek against the top of your head. You let out a small laugh, with Angelina resting on your shoulder and George close to sleep on your head you felt like the comfiest spot in the entire common room.
“Go for it, Jordan,” Fred said airily, his brown eyes glazed over as his stared at your form enveloped between George and Angelina, catching his gaze you outstretched your arm, offering him the alcohol only for him to shake his head and greet you with a soft smile, shifting his eyes back to Lee.
Lee, who always had a tendency to talk with his hands, waved his arms around nonsensically as he posed the question, “If you had to spend the rest of your life with one girl in our year who would it be? Excluding Y/n obviously.”
You sprung to life at that, disturbing Angie and George when you lurched forward to face Lee with a confused expression, “What? What do you mean excluding Y/n?”
Fred chuckled at your affronted expression and shook his head softly, “Don’t look so offended, love. He just means that you’re not really my type.”
You let out a scoff as Angie whined, sitting up with you only to wrap her arms around your middle and plop her head back down on your shoulder, muttering a druken, “Piss off, Freddie. You couldn’t get her anyway,” George snorted, obviously entertained by the whole thing while Lee looked like a child who just got caught staying up past bedtime.
“Ignoring the fact that I’m obviously way out of your league,” you started, glaring at Fred teasingly, “If I’m not your type then how come last night’s girl looked exactly like me?” You challenged raising an eyebrow. George let out a low whistle and Fred choked on air.
“She didn’t- she wasn’t-“ Fred stuttered and Angie groaned against your neck.
“Yea she did, Fredrick. She wasn’t even as gorgeous as our Y/n stop acting like a prat you’d be lucky to spend your life with her!” She ranted, glaring at him as best she could through her droopy eyelids.
“I agree with Angie, Y/n is obviously an exception because she’s simply too good for our resident fuckboy,” George added as you and Fred entered into some kind of staring contest.
Lee snatched the fire whiskey from your hand and took a quick shot, “Alright, alright calm down! Here is my professional commentary; Y/n is not included because Freddie dearest doesn’t know how to deal with feelings and, as we all know, Y/n is a whirlwind- in a good way of course- however Freddie can only think with his dick so he would only get lost in her current.”
“Oi!” Fred shouted indignantly, pouting childishly before hopping off his seat and shoved his twin away from you, he squeezed himself into the space beside you and looked at you seriously, his cheeks flushed due to, what you thought was, his intoxicated state, “You’re not included because you’re my best mate and I’ll spend the rest of my life with you anyway I just think, you know, romantically you're not my type...” That stung. The alcohol in your system wasn’t working nearly as hard as Angie’s as she was reaching across your body and smacking Fred across the chest clumsily before you could even fully digest his words.
“Fred-“ smack, “Weasley-“ smack, “You-“ smack, “Are-“ smack, “such a-“ smack, “Twat!” The slaps she delivered were weak and didn’t do much besides cause Fred to fall into a state of utter confusion, “Romantically you’re not my type,” you, George and Lee snickered at Angie’s imitation of Fred’s voice, while Fred continued to stare at Angelina with a lost expression as she went on, “So a loyal, trustworthy, considerate, girlfriend isn’t your type? Hm? Well good because just because you said that you can never ever have her because she’s mine!”
“Alright, Angie. I think it’s time for bed,” you mumbled through a laugh, she was always a combative drunk and you usually found it quite funny but you didn’t need anymore reminding that your hopeless crush really was hopeless. When you stood up you howled out a laugh when Angie hopped up behind you, still glaring at Fred she smacked your ass, slung her arm around your shoulder and slurred, “Yeah. Let’s go, sexy,” George and Lee fell into a fit of laughter as you led Angie towards the stairs.
“I love you girls!” George called through his laughter, Lee hummed in agreement.
“Love you, Georgie. Love you, Lee!” You replied.
“I love you too!” Angie shouted over you.
Fred was still lost when you disappeared up the stairs with his, very drunk, teammate, “What the fuck just happened?”
“Your stupid ’Y/n is off limits’ rule has finally caught up to you. You’ve lost her to Angie.” George chuckled and Fred shoved him halfheartedly.
“Shut up. All that this proves is that I’m no good for her.” He said, bitterly taking a swig from the bottle in his hands. It was no secret to either of the boys that Fred was head over heels for you. He would’ve followed you anywhere, however, it seemed as though every time he spoke to you the less he even knew what he was trying to say; take that night as an example. You were exactly his type. In every way. But Lee was right when he said Fred wasn’t good at dealing with his emotions, whereas you seemed to hold an ocean of feelings and insights to life that Fred would actively drown in if he could.
“She likes you Fred, you know how she is when she wants something. Tell her no, she’ll only come back stronger. She’ll crack you eventually, ‘specially with Angie in her corner,” George informed his brother, reminding him of your unmatched determination.
True enough, you had always played to win and often did everything in your power to complete a challenge and come out on top. Fred wasn’t an idiot, he knew you fancied him, he fancied you too, who wouldn’t? But there were times that he’d be with you and this feeling of home would wash over him- he couldn’t risk losing you or that feeling you brought about, he’d be completely hollow. Besides, chasing girls who reminded him of you would keep him satisfied for the time being, surely. Surely not apparently.
George was right when he said you wouldn’t give up, in the last few days Fred found himself wishing you were his and he just knew you were doing things to make him crazy on purpose. You were, of course. He couldn’t deny that you were a force of nature all on your own, but wow, you were indeed a whirlwind when you acted with intention.
It had started with fleeting touches whenever you were close enough to achieve it. Gentle brushes of your fingertips against his while you walked alongside each other in the halls, quickly progressed into your hand gripping his bicep every time you spoke to him, then onto biting your lip whenever you were aware of his gaze. Ignoring the growing frustration within him only grew harder when you’d approach him, like clockwork, each night before he’d get busy with whoever it happened to be that night. You’d casually brush your hand down his arm, pull your lip between your teeth, wink and tell him to, “have fun”, and he would, purely because he’d have that image of you seared into his head the entire time.
Playing dirty was never something Fred would normally get on board with, however, the second he noticed you lapping up the attention you were receiving from one of the, admittedly handsome, Ravenclaw boys; Fred decided that you were in fact the one prize he’d cheat to win.
“Fuck this,” he’d muttered, causing his twin to raise an eyebrow at him. They’d only just sat down for breakfast yet Fred was already cursing out the day.
Ginny had heard him too, the youngest Weasley gave Fred a bored look, “What’s wrong with you?”
Fred let out an agitated huff through his nose, glaring menacingly at the tall brunette boy, who was sitting far too close to you for Fred’s liking. George’s laugh broke him out of his trance and he heard his brother snicker out a sarcastic, “So the penny’s finally dropped, has it?”
“Piss off, George,” Fred grumbled, his lips forming a scowly as the boy placed his hand on your knee under the table.
“For Merlin’s sake, Fred. Would you just ask her out already? I’m sick of you,” Ginny complained, Fred was her brother and she loved him but this? This was ridiculous.
“Rude, Gins. You better watch it or I’ll tell mum you’re misbehaving,” Fred joked, halfheartedly while Ginny raised a challenging eyebrow.
“Try it, Fred. I’ll tell her that you’re being a git and ruining her chances of having Y/n as a daughter-in-law.” Ginny threatened. Fred shook his head, determination flooding his body.
He stood from his spot hastily, and all but marched up to you and the boy who currently occupied your attention, “Oi, can I steal you for a minute, love?” Before you could even answer, you were being pulled from your seat by Fred’s strong grip on your hand.
The boy pulled you along until you were out of earshot of the Great Hall and away from the prying eyes of the nosy student body.
“Can I help you, Freddie?” You asked sweetly, too sweetly.
Fred’s hands slid against your sides before settling contently on your waist, he shook his head in disbelief as he spoke, “You’re something else, do you know that?”
Butterflies rumbled in your stomach in response to his newfound proximity and burning gaze. It took everything in you to bite back a triumphant yell as you managed a wicked grin. “What I am is exactly your type, Fred Weasley.”
“You’re bloody right you are,” he muttered, impatient desire fuelling him as he brought his lips to yours, tugging you closer by the waist and kissing you with so much desperation that you were starting to think snogging Fred Weasley wasn’t as open and shut as you’d previously thought.
#fred weasley x reader#george weasley x reader#weasley twins x reader#harry potter x reader#harry potter imagine
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The Grandfather Clock Chimes | 1921
Pairing: Carlisle/Esme
Rating: G
Word count: 1977
Warnings: None
Summary: The first time Carlisle and Esme are alone together.
A/n Thanks to @jessicanjpa for the idea to do a solo Carlisle/Esme fic! I’m obsessed with them at the moment, so writing the first hopeful, awkward, thrilling moment when they’re on their own made my heart all kinds of happy!
In the entry way, the tall grandfather clock noted the hour.
Esme counted five chimes.
Carlisle was rarely home this early.
His arrival through the grand front door had startled Esme, who had become quite used to their little routine, but did not seem to shock the bronze-haired boy composing at the piano. No, Edward had merely smiled in that shy, all-knowing way of his, and welcomed the doctor home before announcing his intent to visit town. Esme had watched him go, shocked into physical silence, but inside, her mind raced, shouting panicked thoughts at the boy.
She had never been alone with the doctor, and had no idea what to say to him.
Stifling a grin, Edward had patted Esme’s hand in a half-hearted attempt to soothe before he took his leave, off to town to ‘collect supplies,’ whatever that was supposed to mean.
And that’s how Esme and Carlisle came to find themselves alone in an unnecessarily large house, sitting unnecessarily far apart in the unnecessarily spacious living room.
Esme sat straighter in her chair, if that was even possible.
On the sofa across from her, Carlisle mirrored her action.
The seconds ticked by.
“I was reminded of you while at work today,” Carlisle spoke suddenly. His voice disturbed the heavy silence between them, and Esme blinked to buy time while she found her voice.
“Oh?”
Though her response was minimal, Carlisle felt encouraged — the brief, thrilling moment when she spoke to him was much better than the silence.
“Yes,” he nodded eagerly, leaning forward in his seat in a futile attempt to close the space of the entire room that lay between them. “A woman visited her brother in our burn ward, and she had the same length hair as you do, with the same bounce to her curls. For just a split second, I thought it was you — but of course, it was ridiculous to believe it could be.” To illustrate this, he shook his head slightly, admonishing himself. “Regrettably, you are confined to the house and our land for the time being, so obviously, you could not have been visiting me at the hospital. Not to think I would presume that, were you to leave the house, you would visit me at the hospital,” he was quick to correct, glancing at her nervously. “No, you could be there for any number of reasons, I’m sure. Though,” his eyes darted to the wall just to her left, avoiding her slowly yellowing eyes, “those reasons are escaping my mind, at present.”
Despite nerves that made her wonder if she still possessed the ability to pass out, Esme smiled. Carlisle always seemed so proper, so put together — nothing ever flustered him.
Nothing, it seemed, until today.
Without Edward there, Esme could afford to be honest with herself in this brief moment of mental privacy. And, since she was being honest with herself, she could acknowledge that she quite liked seeing the doctor flustered.
In her silence, Carlisle continued to babble. “Once I got a better look at the woman, it became doubly clear she could not have been you. Her hair, while a shade of brown, was nothing like the unique caramel color of yours….” He trailed off once again, his gaze falling from the wall to a spot by Esme’s foot.
Esme pursed her lips against a smile. His nervousness had an unexpected effect on her — it seemed to embolden her, almost, to push past the uncertainty of her own. She attempted a slight change in topic. “How was your time at work?”
His perfectly golden eyes snapped to hers, a measure of relief in them. “Quite pleasant, to be honest. All easy fixes today. That is not often the case.”
“Is that why you were allowed to come home early,” Esme prodded, unable to fight the smile that tugged on her lips. She continued to be bold, watching his expression carefully as she spoke. “I admit, I found it a pleasant surprise to have you home before your usual time.”
Hope — beautiful, lighthearted, blossoming hope — lightened Carlisle’s eyes. He leaned forward, now in danger of falling off the sofa. “You did?”
“Y-yes,” she stuttered, caught off guard by his exuberance. She realized how her careless words could have been interpreted, and hurried to cover her tracks. For all his happiness at present, it was clear he did not share her feelings — best not to scare him off. “It is good for Edward to see you often — though he is older than me in our immortal years, he is still a boy at heart. He needs your attention, your guidance.”
Carlisle’s face sobered, though he quickly softened the lines into a small, understanding smile. “You are right, of course. I should spend more time with him. I am grateful for your insight.”
Esme’s useless heart could have melted right then. Always so polite and considerate, her doctor was, and it never failed to chip away at her carefully constructed reservations.
They fell into silence again, and Esme bit the inside of her cheek — a human gesture carried into this new life. Her hands laid over each other on her knee, touching the skirt of the light blue dress she wore — a gift from the man who sat at her opposite. Her fingers interlaced and tightened as she raised her eyes to his once more, trying to provoke her courage into gathering again.
“What did you and Edward do for fun before I arrived?”
Carlisle’s eyebrows raised, and so did Esme’s. She hadn’t planned on asking that.
Carlisle’s lips stretched into a nostalgic smile, and Esme decided right then that it was the most beautiful expression one could make.
“We spent a lot of time exploring the areas we lived in — visiting shops on cloudy days, hiking in the vast forests, even swimming in the lake sometimes.”
Then, his expression clouded, and Esme nearly had to sit on her hands to keep herself from rushing over and caressing his cheek, wanting to offer him every ounce of comfort she could.
“But I must admit,” Carlisle continued, sounding sad in a way that broke Esme’s heart, “those days were few and far between. Edward is…an introspective soul,” he decided on his phrasing finally, sounding like he chose the words with great care. “There are many days when he prefers to stay at home and lament over a choice he had no chance to make for himself.”
Esme had noticed this. Despite all the good times she and Edward had together, there was many an occasion when he would insist that they were all damned. Him and herself she could believe with little argument, but Carlisle? His damnation was a more difficult point for her to be convinced of — he seemed too pure, too wonderful, too good to be stopped at the gates of Heaven.
“I think he requires a push sometimes,” Esme reasoned, having gained great insight into Edward during these past few months of her new life. “He is intelligent, he needs something to stimulate his mind and take away from those dark thoughts. Perhaps visits to museums or—or an opportunity to play his compositions publicly, like at one of those galas you’re always being invited to.” The ideas came to her suddenly, tumbling out of some vault in her mind she wasn’t aware she possessed. “Maybe even school would be good for him.”
At this, the corners of Carlisle’s lips turned down, and Esme sucked in a breath — had she said something wrong?
But Carlisle shook his head, speaking gently. “It would not be right to leave you home by yourself, not while your control is…still in its early stages of success,” he finished delicately, always hesitant to insult even the most deserving being.
“Right,” Esme agreed, looking at her lap as she thought. A new idea sparked in her brain, and her eyes snapped to the doctor’s with enthusiasm. “I could teach him!”
Once again, Carlisle’s eyebrows raised, this time in clear surprise. “Is—is that something of interest for you?”
“Oh, yes,” Esme nodded, excitement overtaking her. “Though I don’t remember much of my career, I know I was a teacher in my human life — I would love the opportunity to rekindle that passion.”
Carlisle grinned, and Esme had to amend her earlier thought — this was the most beautiful expression one could make.
“I think that is a fantastic idea,” he enthused, hands settling on his knees. “I will go into town tomorrow morning and order all the necessary supplies. Are there any subjects of interest you yourself would like to expand upon? I would be happy to pick up the materials.”
Esme tilted her head as she thought on this. There was something, a curiosity that had always played at the back of her mind.
“Architecture,” she answered, then surprised herself when a playful smile overtook her lips. “If I learned about it, maybe I would stand a chance restoring this crumbling mansion of yours.”
Carlisle dipped his head in a teasingly bashful acknowledgement and promised to find her the proper books and supplies.
Esme leaned back in her chair, mildly embarrassed to find how far she had extended herself in Carlisle’s direction. “Perhaps you could be a guest lecturer of sorts — when your schedule allows, of course.”
Carlisle blessed her with her favorite grin once more, and Esme basked in it. He tilted his head as if explaining some inside joke. “Esme, we do not sleep. I am sure I could find time to help with your project.”
If she thought his smile would do her in, it was nothing compared to hearing him say her name! How lovely it sounded coming from his lips, resonating in the gentle baritone of his voice. She wished she could pretend she did not hear it, to ask him to repeat himself, and have the chance of hearing him say it again. Then, perhaps, she could return by speaking his own name — his familiar name, as he had used hers — something she rarely allowed herself to do.
She opened her mouth to say something, anything, when the front door opened and Edward’s scent filled the home.
The breath she would have used to speak tumbled from her mouth in a sigh. So soon…
But the clocked chimed again — six tolls, this time — and Esme was startled to discover that she and Carlisle had been together in that living room for over an hour.
How had the time stretched in an eternity, yet been over in mere minutes? What was this man’s presence doing to her?
Esme’s eyes sought Carlisle’s once more and she felt a pleasant warmth upon realizing that his eyes were searching hers with an equal fervor. They stayed like that for an immeasurable moment, locked in a gaze of unexpected intensity.
She hoped, down to the deepest parts of her useless heart, that there would be more moments like this, where it was just the two of them. Yes, part of her was relieved at being freed from this constant state of being unsure, but another part regretted Edward’s rapid return.
Part of her would have been perfectly content to sit in the hesitant, hopeful, awkward, thrilling silence with Carlisle for an eternity.
She didn’t quite know what to make of that.
Knowing their time for this evening was done, Esme and Carlisle stood and met the boy in the foyer, welcoming him home. While they inspected and praised the packages he brought — items for the house and gifts for the two he was quickly starting to consider as his parents — Carlisle and Esme avoided each other’s eyes.
Only Edward could know what the other was thinking.
And, out of respect for them both, he would not tell them that they were thinking exactly the same thing.
A/n Thanks for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs make my day! You can find my masterlist here :)
#twilight#twilight renaissance#twilight fic#carlisle#carlisle cullen#esme#esme cullen#esme anne platt cullen#carlisle x esme#carlesme#carlisle/esme#esme x carlisle#esme/carlisle#carlesme fic#twilight canon gapfiller#canon compliant#carlesme gapfiller#carlesme canon#twilight fanfic#twilight fanfiction#carlesme fanfic#carlesme fanfiction
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A little Comfort
FutureTrioShipping fic where Grovyle and Celebi are having a rough day and Dusknoir tries his best to make them feel better. Might have turned out too cheesy Idk.
1334 Words
Dusknoir had spent the day doing missions by himself while Grovyle and Celebi stayed home. He already noticed that they were not feeling well in the morning, so the group agreed that he would do the dungeon work on his own. On his way home, Dusknoir picked up groceries so he could cook one of Celebi’s and Grovyle’s favourite meals in the evening.
When Dusknoir got home, he noticed that the other two Pokemon were still in their rooms. He decided to leave them be for the moment and start preparing dinner. Only a few minutes later, he heard Grovyle behind him, entering the kitchen. Dusknoir didn’t acknowledge him until Grovyle was peeking over his shoulder to see what he was doing.
“Impatient as ever.” Dusknoir said, lighthearted.
Grovyle apparently didn’t expect the Ghost-Pokemon to notice him, as he got startled and took a step back before trying to change the subject. “Thank you for taking over today. I’m sorry I didn’t come along.”
Dusknoir rolled his eye. “I wouldn’t have gone if I couldn’t handle it. There is no point in apologizing because you needed a day off, Grovyle.” He turned to face the lizard, only to widen his eye in surprise at the sight of him. “You look like you’ve just cried. What’s wrong?”
Grovyle turned away in embarrassment and Dusknoir could only assume that he didn’t even realize how much his face gave away. It took Grovyle a second to find his words again.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” he finally said before walking away. Dusknoir grabbed him by the hand before Grovyle could leave the kitchen, which caused him to look up to the other Pokemon in surprise.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but I’m still concerned for your well-being. If there is anything I can do for you to make you feel better, please let me know.”
Grovyle couldn’t help but smile a little while moving his hand out of Dusknoir’s hold. “I appreciate it, but you’re already helping enough. Thank you, Dusknoir.” Grovyle paused for a second. “But if you could only bring me a serving to my room when the food is done.”
Dusknoir’s soft-eyed expression faded and was replaced with a suspicious glance while he crossed his arms. Grovyle held back an amused smirk, already knowing what he was getting at.
“Is something the matter, Dusknoir?” he teased.
“Don’t take me for a fool, Grovyle. I know how messy you are.” Dusknoir responded. “I’ll bring you your food, but you bring your dishes back to the kitchen, understood?”
“Celebi doesn’t need your permission to eat in her room.”
“Celebi doesn’t leave her dishes in her room either, now stop making fun of me.”
Grovyle left without another word to bother Dusknoir. Despite the mild annoyance, Dusknoir was relieved that Grovyle was still able to goof around despite having a rather bad day. Once he was done cooking, he brought Grovyle his food before going to Celebi’s room and knocking on her door.
“Who’s there?” Celebi responded to the knock.
“It’s me, Dusknoir. Do you want to eat something?”
“I’m not hungry.”
Dusknoir could hear that Celebi was upset, which worried him. “Can I get you anything else?” he asked, wanting to make sure that she was alright. It didn’t take long for Celebi to get to the door and open it.
“Can you stay with me?”
Dusknoir was a little surprised since he couldn’t hear Celebi fly to the door, but he nodded. “Of course.”
Celebi opened the door further and moved aside to let Dusknoir in. She sat down on a stool while Dusknoir closed the door behind him and took a seat on a chair that seemed to be too big for Celebi.
“Do you want to talk?” asked Dusknoir.
Celebi stared down at her own hands while thinking about an answer. “I don’t know? I’m just… still really upset about everything that happened in the dark timeline. It’s silly. It’s been over for years but I just can’t get over it.”
“It’s far from silly, Celebi. You can’t just get over something like that. Your feelings are justified.”
“...You know, a part of me hoped that things could be just fine when we woke up on the mountain back then.” She held back tears while speaking. “I hoped I could leave all of that behind me and have a happy life in this new timeline, but it’s much more complicated than that.”
“Can I give you a hug?” Dusknoir asked to which Celebi nodded in response and flew to him. Dusknoir held Celebi as she continued talking while tearing up.
“I feel like I should be happy. I mean I am happy, but I don’t know if I can recover from… all that, you know?”
“I know, Celebi. I can’t tell you that you’ll be completely over it eventually, but I’m here for you if you ever need someone.”
Celebi wiped her tears away. “Thank you. I just want you to stay here for a while, if that’s okay.”
The two Pokemon sat in silence for a while, not exchanging another word. Eventually, Celebi broke the silence.
“Can I stay with you overnight?” she asked.
“Of course you may.” he responded with a smile.
Celebi smiled back. “Thank you. I just don't want to be alone.” She rubbed her head and looked almost embarrassed. “I would have spent the day with Grovyle, but he wanted to be alone and I didn’t want to bother him.”
“You know, I could have stayed home today if I knew you’d be so lonely.” Dusknoir pointed out.
Celebi just shrugged. “I guess I didn’t want to hold you back.”
“Oh please, you think I’d rather spend my time in a dungeon than with you? Where would I be if I willingly choose that over my beloveds?” Dusknoir responded, speaking in an intentionally overdramatic tone which made Celebi laugh a little.
“Alright, I get it. I’ll let you know next time I want you to stay around. Stop being silly.”
Dusknoir giggled, but suddenly went silent when Celebi gave the mouth on his belly a kiss. He stared at the smaller Pokemon in surprise who gave him a smirk.
“You’re too easy to fluster, my dear Dusknoir~”
“Well you took me by surprise. Not that I mind it.”
Shortly afterwards, Celebi noticed how hungry she was and decided to eat something with Dusknoir at last before the two headed off to bed.
-
It was late at night when Dusknoir was woken up by a knock on his door. Grovyle peeked into the room.
“I didn’t mean to wake you up. I’ll leave.” Grovyle whispered.
“What do you want?” Dusknoir asked before he could close the door. Grovyle shook his head dismissively.
“I was gonna ask if I could stay with you but since Celebi is already here-”
Dusknoir rolled his eye and reached his free arm out. “Come here already.”
Grovyle only hesitated for a moment before he climbed onto the bed and tried to find a comfortable position. Dusknoir moved a little to give him more room and was afraid to wake Celebi up, but she only moved to cling even more to his arm and kept sleeping peacefully. Grovyle curled up next to Dusknoir and rested his head on the chest of the Ghost-Pokemon. Dusknoir moved his hand to scratch Grovyle’s head, which made the lizard purr.
“Couldn’t sleep?”
“Hardly.” Grovyle admitted. “But it’s more comfortable here.” he said before yawning. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Grovyle.”
It didn’t take Grovyle long to fall asleep in his exhaustion. Dusknoir was up for a little longer, but tried to fall back asleep too. He still took the quiet moment to appreciate his partners. It may have been a harder day for them, but to him it was worth helping them through it. Even more so when he knew he could trust them to support him the same way when he needed it.
#writing#pmd#grovyle was crying over hero btw 😔#I didn't include him as much as I would've liked but I just imagine he'd rather be alone when feeling down#not very proud of this one tbh I feel like I didn't nail the characterizations
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