#the way they're messed up all angry and tears and yelling and making up again
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laurel and susanna's kids all have at least some portion of the moms in them: laurel's get-shit-done mindset and susanna's vision for finding magic in the everyday. (they also have the temper and the strong feelings that they dive headfirst into, not to mention this immense pressure of living up to a legacy they love. but that's part of what makes them a little impossible to look away from. they commit pretty intensely, and they make you want to commit too.)
belly's got it in spades, but so does jeremiah, steven, and conrad. they take chances and pull through. they try to do right by each other. they listen and are scathingly honest and gentle with each other, with comfortable familiarity. they care so much. they've got this magic of the summer they love, and they invite other people into it so they get to feel it too. it's what they've done every year, during this one season of open possibilities and love and grief and every messy thing in between, and they will have it for the rest of their lives, memories and habits and the joyfulness.
these four kids have got a sense of family between them that's real special. I would like this show to end with their summer still as magical as they always remember it: together, and having fun.
#the summer i turned pretty#tsitp#belly conklin#conrad fisher#jeremiah fisher#steven conklin#my thoughts#it's the way belly and steven and jeremiah have a way of dragging other people into singing along to songs#it's the way conrad will let them do anything#the way they apologize for not being there and trying to be there the next time#the way they're messed up all angry and tears and yelling and making up again#I genuinely think they are always gonna think of each other as family#they're gonna make so many mistakes but they'll fight each other through it somehow#they only see each other for a part of a year but it's the part of year that they can be the most themselves#I think that love's the lasting kind#I hope they can still have the best summers (sure the highs and lows might swing a bit extreme sometimes but you never forget the highs)#I can't believe I'm saying this about a het love triangle show but#they're magical and I love these characters#you can tell I watch this show for the friendship of these endearing idiot geniuses#two of them are trust fund white kids and all of them are privileged first world teenagers but this is rich teen fantasy show so
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I keep seeing takes about how the Roy/Keeley reunion was too sudden, or too manipulative, and how Roy hasn't been working on himself at all. Since you guys clearly haven't been watching the same show I have all season, let me do a quick run through:
3x2 - Roy's WHOLE SPEECH about leaving Chelsea early because he could see the end coming and didn't want to drag everyone down and become an embarrassment was such an obvious metaphor for his relationship with Keeley that Trent points it out to us IN THE EPISODE. His wistful (for Roy at least) thought that maybe he should have just stayed and enjoyed it while he could is equally painfully obvious regret that is even MORE obviously for Keeley ends with "but that's not the kind of man I am." (Not a direct quote, but an accurate paraphrase). As the season continues, we will see that that isn't a line of arrogance. It's a line that highlights the fact that Roy's self esteem is complete shit.
(Before you argue with me, let's go back to his confrontation with Trent earlier in the episode. Would someone with GOOD self-esteem carry a negative review about himself in his wallet for DECADES? Not as some kind of motivation, but as something that genuinely upsets him to this day? Can you picture Sam doing this? Or Dani? Or even Isaac? I absolutely CAN picture Jamie doing this, but frankly that only confirms the picture of a cocky man whose self esteem is secretly garbage.)
Speaking of Jamie. The show has paralleled the two men the ENTIRE TIME, and it's quite possible to say that Roy's growing acceptance of Jamie goes hand-in-hand with a growing acceptance for his inner self. His agreeing to train Jamie in the face of Zava's Zava-ness is a recognition of Jamie's value (and maybe in some distant way his own), and even though he's very brusque about it that's also how Roy's been treating himself all season.
Then we get to 3x6 and Roy's insight about how never learning to ride a bike was probably an insult to his grandfather's memory. Rephrased, it hits Roy that a time he shut down because of strong emotions (in order to protect himself from those emotions) would have hurt a person he loved very much. (This will be important later.)
(Also in this episode -- Rebecca's comment to Roy about "someone who feels they're worthy of her." Rebecca has read him like a book this WHOLE TIME. Their friendship is such an underrated treasure.)
Then we get to 3x9, and Roy's talk with Isaac about how he isn't really angry about this, and how he needs to fix it before it screws up something he DOES care about. Roy's speaking from personal experience here, and what's the big thing Roy has screwed up this season?
Also in that episode, Rebecca yelling at Roy about the press conference. She tells him to pull his head out of his ass, and once again talks about Roy not feeling like he's worth anything and how he needs to accept the fact that he deserves good things. He then proceeds to deliver such a fucking beautiful press conference that it brings a tear to my eye just thinking about it. One he was apparently capable of this whole time. He was just so focused on escape before that he'd never let himself.
And in 3x10. To clarify -- neither the letter or the realization was about getting Keeley back. He said he was a mess, and the nice teacher lady said she hoped the mess didn't cause any damage. In that moment, in part because of everything that had come before, he realized that him trying to keep his mess away from Keeley might have caused her damage instead.
(Should he have figured that out well before now? Of course he should have. But when your self-esteem is garbage you don't see depriving someone of your presence as damaging them. In fact, you might even think of it as making their life easier.)
The letter was apologizing for THAT. And he was planning on just leaving it under her door, since a genuine apology demands no response. In fact, he probably kind of hoped he WOULDN'T be there when she read it, but his terrible handwriting made it impossible. And when he's done yes, he does stay a bit, because who WOULDN'T hope that Keeley Jones would suddenly fall into their arms. But when she doesn't, he goes. And if Keeley hadn't called him back, he would have kept going.
You just have to LOOK.
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A Closer Look At: Jisung and Aurora (#RoJi)
Dance Instructor
Aurora is Jisung’s one and only dance student.
After learning a new dance, Aurora will take time after practice to go through each and every move until it's burned into her muscle memory. Sometimes the pace of regular practice is too fast for her but no one complains. Usually by the third practice Aurora had everything down.
That is all thanks to Park Jisung
While all the boys offered to help Aurora learn each dance, Aurora always refused. Citing that Jisung was already helping.
Aurora couldn’t explain. Maybe it was the way Jisung broke down the dances for her. Maybe it was the comforting presence Jisung had in her life. Maybe she just trusted him the most out of all the members. She didn’t know and she didn’t care to find out.
Fans often caught Aurora pulling Jisung aside to ask him for help on a move right before pre-recordings or backstage at festivals.
The cutest times are when Jisung can predict what Aurora is going to ask. He’ll just randomly dance to one of Dreams songs, Aurora will nod going on to do said move perfectly.
One time, between Boom!era and Ridin!era, Dream had a new choreographer who didn’t understand Aurora methods. For an entire practice, he just nitpicked her constantly.
The members all looked around at each other not really knowing what to do. Something like a mean teacher was usually handled by Mark but he wasn’t here.
After the twentieth time Aurora looked like she was ready to shed tears. Jisung had enough stopping practice to yell, “Look, I will help Aurora after practice and she will have it down pat by the next one. Just leave her alone.”
The rare sight of an angry Jisung was enough to fluster the choreographer. For the rest of practice, Jisung stayed close to Aurora making note of every step she messed up on to help teach her later.
Roji Time
Aurora and Jisung have their own pair name and it’s Roji or Rosey in English
This is based of the unconfirmed/confirmed nicknames the two have for each other: Roro and Jiji
These two will just disappear and hours will go by before the older members of AG and Dream realize they sneaked away.
At first, the groups freaked out searching every corner of each dorm before finding the two maknae’s playing games in Aurora’s room, their feet hanging in the air while their backs lie on the floor.
After this, the members made up a special signal to warn them of the maknae’s slipping away for some quiet time. It was two rapid taps then a flick on one of their older members shoulders.
Months after the code was established all of NCT (at the time) gathered at the 127 to hang out. Hours in, Taeyong looked around and did a head count as he often did when surrounded by all his kids. When the number was short, he did it again and was two members short again.
Now, some panic sets in. This time he walked around the dorm counting the members loitering around and still came up two members short. Somehow, in his own dorm mind you, he lost the maknaes. Real panic set in now. Taeyong stopped all the conversation and asked everyone, “Has anyone seen Jisung and Aurora.” When all he got for answers were shugs and puzzled looks, Taeyong’s panic was about to hit the ceiling.
To fend off an impending search, Mark spoke up, saying, “Oh they just snuck off for Roji time.” This caused Taeyong to ask more questions. Only to be placated by Moxy “Don’t worry they're fine. They’ll come out when they're ready or hungry…..or both.”
Minutes later the two silently walked to the kitchen, grabbing all the snacks they could carry then snuck back off. Only then did Taeyong finally breath.
First Kiss
Like the name implies, Jisung and Aurora had their first kiss together
And Chenle can’t stand it
“I just don’t know why you didn’t come to me?!”
Anyways, they both figured ‘When would they ever find the time and somebody they actually liked to share this with?’
“I would rather do this with someone I’m comfortable with than wait my whole life for the right person to come along.” As Aurora explained, Jisung nodded in agreement, not noticing the look Aurora was giving him
“Oh you mean me………..OH! You mean me??!”
Jisung was reasonable concerned about their friendship if this were to happen but Aurora helped him relax
“Jisung do you in any way, shape or form have a glimmer of feelings for me?” “No.” “Jesus you didn’t have to say it so fast!”
It went by quickly. A light press of lips with no pressure of moving past this level.
They both moved on like normal. It was everyone else’s reactions that were abnormal.
A week later, Aurora was over at the fifth floor dorm to bother Haechan, as one does. The other member’s were dishing about their first kiss stories. All the boys cringing at their own horror stories then Aurora interrupts
“How can a first kiss be so bad? Me and Jisung kissed a week ago and it wasn’t anything like that.”
It only took a couple of seconds before the dorm exploded.
“A WEEK AGO!”
“YOU AND JISUNG!”
“I KNEW HE HAD FEELINGS FOR YOU!”
Needless to say, it was a long night of explanations for NCT’s maknae line.
“We both just wanted to get it over with and No Jungwoo oppa, Jisung and I have no feeling for each other whatsoever.” Aurora explained after her older members stopped freaking out.
Protector
Everyone know that’s Jisung always walks between his hyungs at the airport and Aurora always follows after him
That’s because Aurora is glaring at any “Fan” that gets too close to her maknae line friend (Fan is a word I just loosely in this situation)
Ssaengs always try to use this as a way to lob hatred at Aurora for her “‘mistreatment of fans”
Whenever some isn’t deterred by Aurora death glare she always assures Jisung of what she would do to protect him
“Next time one of those girls gets in your face, I’m laying them out and nobody can stop me” “You can’t just punch people in a public setting Roro.” “I can. I will and I dare ANYONE to stop me.”
During their first Dream Show Tour, a girl somehow got past security and ran at Jisung. Aurora saw and moved Jisung behind her (Which is funny to think about. Jisung’s tall body protected by Aurora's smaller one). Aurora just glared the fan down until security came and moved the fan back. The rest of the way, Aurora dragged Jisung by the hand through the airport
Jisung alway laughs off her bursts of violent protection talk but in his head it’s nice to know what the younger would do to anyone that made him uncomfortable. It made him feel safe
Silent Comfort
Where Aurora is violent, Jisung is quiet
Aurora know that’s Jisung will be there for her without a shadow of a doubt
For Jisung, he knows Aurora already has ten older brothers willing to drop anyone who puts a frown on her face. Jisung didn’t want to make a place for himself in those ranks.
So jisung made use of his quiet.
Jisung is Aurora’s rock. Always there to support and help the younger anytime the stress of being a young idol in the spotlight became to much
Like when Aurora (rightfully) freaked at her original outfit for the Work It music video
Jisung stayed put, even though he himself wanted to go after that stylist like their elder members. He took Aurora’s hand and sat by her side until their noona’s and hyungs took care of the problem.
Jisung is one of the only members who can approach Aurora when she’s having an AB (NCT code for Aurora Breakdown. Did I mention NCT has group wide codewords? cause they doo!!!). Jisung will sit until she’s ready to talk to one of their hyungs. Jisung, even though he’s scared, will sit with his phone and the rhythmic tapping of him playing a game helps Aurora breath and relax.
A perfect example was during Aurora’s last year of Korean middle school. She was studying for her final exams while working on NCT 2018 promotions. It was a hectic time. Taeyong and the hyung line constantly tried to get her to sit out of rehearsals and take a break. Stubbornly, she refused. Running herself ragged until a week before exams.
Aurora sat at the 127 kitchen table working thru a study guide a friend put together. Everything was quiet until the residents of the dorm heard glass shatter. They ran into the kitchen to find Aurora, surrounded by water and glass shards, curled up in a ball shaking. Silent tears rolling down her cheeks. Her only request, “I want Jisung.”
For the rest of the night, Jisung sat next to her as she worked. Holding her left hand until she fell asleep, face buried in her notes. Johnny and Jaehyun were called to move them into Taeyong’s room for the night. None of them having the heart to wake them.
#NCT AG#NCT AG.Aurora#NCT AG.Writing#NCT AG.Info#NCT AG.Facts#nct female unit#nct female addition#nct female member#kpop!au#kpop!fakegroup#kpop addition#kpop!addition#nct female subunit#kpop!oc#nct female oc#kpop female member
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HEAD CANNON STORY:
Curly's Redemption
Reader witnesses some cowboys bullying an innocent man...
What does Curly Bill do?
What does Johnny Ringo do?
Do they admonish their companions?
How do they feel when they see how upset you are?
Where does it occur?
Why are you upset with JR or CB?
Did they do anything to discourage it?
How do they respond when seeing you so sad and angry?
What will they do to make it up to the man and to you?
It's no secret that the Cowboys like roughhousing. When they're not roughing up other outlaws or even friends, they're creating chaos amongst each other. Sometimes it's all in good fun and the only side effects are a few black eyes or some cuts and bruises. They're cowboys and don't possess culture and are barely civilized.
Their idea of a good time involves plenty of liquor and doing whatever they damn well please. When a self righteous resident demonstrates their disapproval or scowls at the Cowboys with disgust, the boys colorfully show the poor fellow to the exit of the establishment or maybe knock him around a little if he's big enough. They tend not to go after people weaker than them, but then again, they're not the best at understanding boundaries. So when they take it too far and trip up a man in a wheelchair, they are completely unprepared for your explosive response.
Frank McClaury and Ike Clanton exit the Silver Slipper saloon and walk drunkenly to the next bar to continue their party. Unbeknownst to them, you're standing a few feet away and their intoxication deadens their senses and they don't see you. Curly Bill, Ringo and a few other cowboys follow Ike and Frank and are also under the influence of whiskey.
An older man, pushing his way through the side of the street with his wheelchair, finds himself directly across from the two cowboys. A look of fear falls over the man and he desperately tries to push the chair, but the wheels become stuck and he cannot pass. Instead of helping, Frank McClaury stands with his hands on his hips and Ike stands there laughing.
"Get outta our way, you damn cripple!" McClaury shouts while Ike howls with laughter. "Yeah, outta our way! Don't you know who we are?"
You can hear the commotion and you move closer and see Curly Bill although in his drunken state, he doesn't see you. At that moment, Frank motions for Ike to help him move the old man themselves.
"No, please!" The man begs.
Frank and Ike take the chair and dump the man out if it and he falls helpless to the ground while Ike and Frank point and laugh hysterically at their fun.
You run over before Ike and Frank get a chance to head into another saloon.
"Are you alright!?" You shout running to help the old man.
You look at Ike Clanton who although is a drunken mess, at least has the capacity to see the hurt and anger in your eyes.
"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" You yell at the top of your lungs, causing more of a commotion. A few townspeople along with Curly Bill quickly move towards the helpless man. To Curly's shock and surprise, you push Ike Clanton and he falls over and then you deck Frank McClaury so hard, he trips over a step and lands on the ground alongside Ike, who's brushing himself off.
The Cowboys stare at you as you stand with such anger on your face, they're taken aback. Curly's mouth drops and he's not sure what to do at that moment.
"Please! Let me help you!" You help the man into his chair and Ike looks over at the other cowboys who are shaking their heads.
Once the man is secured and safe in his chair, you ask him again if he's alright.
"God bless you," he responds and you tell Frank to get the hell out of the way so the man could get through. Curly Bill moves to take your arm in an attempt to calm you, but to his shock, you pull away and his heart aches when he sees the disgust in your eyes.
"Get away from me!" You shout at Curly, who almost falls backwards. In his intoxication, Curly tries to approach you again and you back away, tears in your eyes.
"How could you?" You yell at the old rustler. Curly's confused look turns to sadness and he looks over at Frank McClaury and Ike Clanton.
"What the hell is goin' here! You boys think that's funny?" Curly bellows at the top of his lungs, causing citizens to glance over at the commotion. Curly hopes your demeanor towards him changes, but you still stare at him, your expression bordering in disgust.
"Come on now, YN! I didn't do nothin' to that old timer." Your eyes flood with tears that stream down your beautiful face and the look you give to Curly is one he will never forget and it breaks his heart that you looked at him that way; with disgust and fear and bewilderment.
"You!" You shout and Curly wouldn't be surprised if you slapped him. Curly Bill tries to reason with you, but your refusal to ever let him near you causes him to move away.
"You're in charge of them! And look what they did! I hope I NEVER see you again, Curly Bill!"
Curly watches helplessly while you run off, bumping into a few people. He moves to go after you, but Ringo stops him.
"Johnny! Why's she so upset with me? I didn't do nothin'!" Curly takes his hat off and runs his thick fingers through his unruly dark hair. "Well, shit!"
Ringo shakes his head. "YN is very sensitive and caring. We're a bunch of rustlers who don't deserve to walk on the same side of the street as her. I'm sorry, Curly, but I don't think she's going to have anything to do with you now."
"Hell! She knows I'd never do nothin' to hurt her. I'd do anything just to protect YN. I was hoping she'd be my girl!"
Ringo lights a cigarette and slowly blows the smoke out, choosing his words carefully. "You'll have to give her time to think it over."
Curly Bill grows angry. "I'm gonna beat the hell of Ike Clanton! Iffin he ruined my chances of makin' YN my girl, I swear, Juanito!"
"Don't forget Frank McClaury. He needs to be slapped around a bit."
Curly Bill puts his hat back on and looks up. Frank and Ike already left, fearing what Curly or Ringo might do.
"Did you see the way she looked at me?" Curly Bill asks, his face to the ground.
Ringo takes another drag of his cigarette and nods. "Yeah, Bill. She looked more confused than anything." Ringo throws his cigarette on the ground and crushes the cherry with the boot. "I think that's the proof she does care about you, Bill."
Curly glances over at Johnny who knows how much Curly cares for you. Curly has had a major crush on you since he first saw you and has been desperately trying to court you. But now he feels he has lost you and all because of his unruly cowboy crew.
"I gotta find her! Show her I ain't like that. Hell! I ain't never done nothin' to no cripple and I wouldn't! I ain't got no beef with them!"
Curly Bill eyes Billy Breckenridge and leaves Ringo to talk with the young deputy.
"Billy!" Curly shouts which causes Breckenridge to turn around.
"Howdy, Curly."
"Billy, you see where YN ran off to?"
"Yeah, she went home I'm guessing. She was moving pretty fast in that direction anyway. Why?"
The old cowboy removes his hat and begins to rock on his feet as he does when anxious or uncomfortable.
"My boys did somethin' real stupid and she all thinkin' I ain't good no more. Damn McClaury and Ike Clanton! Pushin' an old man out of his wheelchair and then havin' a laugh about it right in front of her."
"Shucks, Curly Bill. I sure am sorry. I guess I can always talk to her for you."
Curly Bill looks at the young officer. "Iffin you do that and she lets me see her again, I'll be real grateful to you, son!"
"I'll ride out first thing in the morning. Give her time to sleep on it. Maybe she'll feel differently in the morning."
"Well, I sure hope so. I gotta find them cowboys!"
"Ike and McClaury are at the Dead End saloon."
"I was wantin' YN to be my girl and now I don't think she likes me anymore and well, maybe she never did like me all that much. Guess she deserves better than me." Curly Bill shakes his head. Breckenridge watches the old cowboy walk down to the Dead End saloon confront McClaury and Ike Clanton. He enters through the batwings and growls, "I got beef with you cowboys! What the hell is a matter with you boys? I oughta shoot both of you, GodDamit! You go ruinin' my chances of making YN my girl since you were funnin' with that old timer and that ain't right iffin' she's there or not!" Curly bellows loudly. He walks to the bar and orders whiskey. "How's bout I whoop both you boys?"
"We didn't mean nothin', Curly!" Ike whines.
"I'm gonna bust up this whole place with your head!"
"It ain't no big deal and he was alright," McClaury states.
"That don't don't make no nevermind!" Curly howls. "You hurt that fellow and you did that in front of YN and now she may never talk to me again and iffin' that's what plays out, I'm gonna kill both you boys!" Curly downs his whiskey and orders more.
Back at your home, you lay on your bed, your eyes tired from crying. You care about Curly Bill and even thought about letting him court you, but now uncertainty swells in your heart. You make yourself some tea and sip it slowly, tears streaming down your face. You fear that Curly Bill is just like the other cowboys. You hope he'd be different; kind and even loving...You slowly begin to consider not spending anymore time with Curly.
Curly Bill drinks himself into such a stupor, he can barely get on his horse. He rides back to camp to sleep and when he succumbs to his fatigue, he can see your beautiful face in his mind. Your smile twists into a frown and the same look you had when you told him you hoped you'd never see him again showed on your face. He jolts awake and falls back to sleep.
The morning sun fights through the ragged clouds that lay sadly in the Arizona sky. Curly can smell the bacon and biscuits and knows he should get up. Today, Breckenridge would hopefully get you to change your mind about old Curly and Billy's all too willing to oblige as he enjoys the company of the cowboys.
Curly Bill sips his coffee and munches bacon and biscuits while thoughts of you flow through his mind. He shakes his head and looks around. He can see some cowboys are still sleeping off their barrel fever and he can hear some snoring or farting. He can't get over what you witnessed the day before and how upset it made you. Maybe Ringo was right; you do care about him and that caused your confusion. He desperately wants to ride out to you and beg for your forgiveness, but can't bring himself to. The idea of you slamming the door on him shook the old cowboy. Or reminding him that you no longer wish to see him. If he walks down the street and sees you, he fears, you'll ignore him or worse, scowl at him as a reminder to leave you alone. His throat tightens and he sips his coffee. Once he finishes his meager breakfast, he washes up and rides into town, hoping he could win a few rounds of poker and down more whiskey.
Breckenridge pulls the reigns in on his horse before getting off and securing his animal to a nearby tree. He walks up the front porch and knocks on your door. When you open it, he can see how tired your eyes look and it's clear you've been crying.
"Hi, deputy," you respond.
"Can I come in?" He inquires, taking his hat off.
"Sure. Have you had breakfast?" You begin. "I made some hot cakes. And I have coffee."
The young deputy nods and sits at your table. You bring two plates over and set them down. You pass some syrup to Billy.
"Thanks."
You nod and slowly fall into your seat. Billy can see your eyes swell with tears and they begin streaming down your face. Breckenridge sits helplessly watching, knowing it was what Curly told him the day before that has you so upset. It's clear you care about Curly Bill or you wouldn't be experiencing so much feeling.
"I'm sorry, YN. What's wrong? Billy takes a clean handkerchief from his pocket and hands it to you.
"Thank you," you whisper drying your eyes.
"I can't believe what those cowboys did to that poor man. And to laugh about it!" You wipe your tears and attempt to eat your hot cake.
"How could they?" You close your eyes.
"Who was it? I mean, what exactly happened?"
"Ike Clanton and that Frank McClaury, Tom's older brother. They pushed an old man out of his wheelchair and the man fell and...." Billy leans in towards you, intently listening.
"So, just the two of them? I can't see Ringo or Curly Bill doing anything like that," Billy begins to feel important and hopes you'll change your mind and Curly will always know that Breckenridge was the one who helped you change your position about seeing Curly.
"Yes," you respond.
"So, did Curly Bill see what happened?"
"I'm not sure."
"I'm sorry. What are you thinking? What are you going to do?"
"I don't know. Just...I just don't know."
"Have you talked to Curly?"
You lower your head and stare into your coffee cup. You slowly shake your head. "I was so upset, I just left!"
"Are you mad at Curly Bill?" At that point, Breckenridge feels he'll be able to shift your focus.
"No. I don't know...I'm confused. He's in charge of them so, I just thought... Maybe he wouldn't care what they do. You don't think Curly Bill would ever hurt a crippled man?" Your eyes turn liquid and tears appear in them.
"Of course not!" Breckenridge answers, sitting up straight. "Curly Bill doesn't allow any of that. I'm surprised he didn't beat Clanton and whoop Frank's ass right there!"
You smile for the first time since Billy walked in so he continues with confidence. "Really?"
"Sure! One thing I can tell you about old Curly is that underneath it all, he's a good man. He would never let his cowboys rough me up. Before a drive, he knows exactly how many cows and horses there are, he can shoot and rope better than most and I can tell you for certain, he would never lie. I remember when a couple of his cowboys stole a heffer from a farm where a few children lived. Curly got so mad at those boys, he forced them to return the cow and told his cowboys they will never steal from children or women or anything they don't have an issue with."
"Curly Bill did that? He really did?" You wipe your eyes.
"Of course! I know Curly and Ringo well. They probably both feel terrible about this. If they know how upset you are, they'd be wanting to fix it for you. Next time you see Clanton or McClaury, they may have a few bruises or black eyes."
You chuckle and run your hand through your hair.
"I care about him. Curly Bill I mean." Your smile turns to a frown and you take a deep breath before finishing your thought. "I just do."
"Do you want to talk to him and Ringo?" Billy inquires.
"I told Curly Bill that I never want to see him again." You begin to cry again.
"Oh. Is that true?"
You shake your head. "I want to see him again because I care for him."
"Maybe we could go into town later. I'll take you. I can walk back, you can ride my horse. It's not that far. Maybe Curly could take you back?"
You nod your head. "I think I would like that." You stare into your coffee which went cold.
"Whenever you're ready," Breckenridge responds excitedly. He can't wait to see the look on Curly's face when he sees you.
"I'll go get cleaned up." You answer, getting up. You clear the dishes and put them into the sink and pump some water onto them.
You disappear into your bedroom, clean yourself up and put on a little makeup and brush your hair, leaving it down. When you emerge from your room, you look refreshed.
"You look lovely," Billy announces.
"Thank you. I want to look nice for-" you pause for a moment. "For Curly I mean. Everything you told me is true about him?"
"Of course! Come on, I'm sure Curly is already in town. I know he likes to go to the hotel for lunch."
"They don't serve lunch for another hour." You add
"That's alright. We can still find him and maybe you can talk with him and see that he wouldn't hurt you. I know old Curly."
The two of you leave and Breckenridge walks while you ride his horse. When you get to town, you dismount and wait for Billy to take his horse to the livery. You look around and scan the area to see if Curly is close, but you don't see him. Your heart races while you glance over the front porch of the Silver Slipper where Clanton and McClaury pushed the old man out of his wheelchair. You bite your lip and hold back your tears.
"Why don't you go to the hotel lobby and have a seat? I'll find Curly."
You nod and Billy tips his hat before heading down Allen Street. Billy can hear Curly's voice booming from down the street and he hurries towards the Dead End saloon where Curly is admonishing Frank and Ike.
"I told you boys already! Iffin' I can't be with YN because of you two, I'll bust both you fools!"
"Curly, why are you so worked up like a damn hen? All since YN showed up you're like this!" McClaury announces. "You just want her to be your girl!"
"Damn right, you sapheads! I reckon she ain't my girl and now she may never be my girl since you two boys went on actin' like damn fools pushin' some old timer around like that! What the hell you boys thinkin' raising sand with some cripple? Don't go tellin' me you was too roosters neither!"
The Cowboys turn when they see deputy Breckenridge move through the batwings.
"Howdy, Curly," the deputy grins, tipping his hat and feeling mighty important that he's the man Curly Bill wants to talk to.
"Billy! How is YN? She real mad?"
"She's at the hotel." Billy answers.
"You better not be joshin', boy!" Curly Bill growls.
"Come see for yourself," Billy responds, moving towards the batwings.
"She better not be mad at me no more and iffin' she ain't gonna be my girl, you ain't gonna like what's going to happen!"
"What she say, Billy? Does she want to talk to me?" Billy can't recall a time when he saw the old cowboy so vulnerable and desperate and the young deputy relished in the fact that he brought you into town so Curly Bill could make things right with you.
"She was crying, Curly. I won't lie."
Curly's heart sinks. He removes his hat and holds it in his hands.
"Does she want to see me? Yesterday she told me she hopes she never sees me again and well, I guess I can't blame her. But I just wanna make it right that's all well with YN so she don't go hatin' me."
"Like I said, Curly. She's waiting at the hotel. She said she wanted to talk with you."
Curly replaces his hat and looks at Clanton and McClaury.
"Don't you boys go forgettin' what I said!" They watch him leave with the deputy.
"Curly ain't never been like this before. It's just because of that YN that's makin' him feel like this gettin' his all dander up over some lady!" McClaury grumbles.
"Curly ain't kiddin', Frank," Ike scoffs. He's gonna give both us a good lickin' YN don't want to see him no more. We's like brothers to old Curly and now he's gonna whoop us for hurting some old fellow. Iffin' she never saw it, old Curly wouldn't care none!" Ike shakes his head and continues drinking with the others.
Curly and Breckenridge walk to the hotel and Curly can feel his heart beating in his chest and fears the young peace officer may hear it. He whistles to himself and tips his hat to a few residents who stare at the cowboy. The jingle of his diggers echo on the porch steps. Curly looks into the hotel and sees you sitting in one of the chairs, playing with your hair and looking down at the lavish carpet underneath. Curly swallows hard and walks in, his eyes on you. Billy walks in front of the old rustler and moves to where you are sitting.
"Hi YN," Breckenridge utters.
You look up and see him and Curly Bill, who removes his hat when your eyes lock with the old cowboy's.
You stand, your eyes never leaving Curly's and he can see strong emotions coming from you suggesting you probably cried through the night. He sighs and looks down, unable to meet your gaze out of the shame that floods his heart.
"Uh, well. I gotta get back. Old Fred is waiting for me. I'll leave the two of you alone." You watch him leave and then turn your attention to Curly Bill.
"YN, you don't need to talk to me if you don't want to. I reckon you got good reason to not want to be around me. Iffin' you give me a chance, I want you to see I ain't like that. What my boys did was real bad and I know that." He shakes his head and motions for you to sit. "Will you at least talk to me and then you can go on actin' like you don't want to see me no more and I won't never bother you again. And I mean that. A lady like you deserves better than what this old cowboy can give you."
To his surprise, you sit and gesture for him to do the same. He sits down slowly, not taking his eyes off you. You nod and tears begin to flow again. You take the handkerchief that Billy gave you earlier and dry your tears with it. At this point, all Curly Bill wants to do is hold you close and wipe those tears so you can feel better. Since he never had anyone to care about and nobody to care about him, his feelings wash over him like an unfamiliar storm that won't stop howling. He adores you for your sensitivity towards others and that if someone did anything to him, your response would mimic the one from yesterday; you would admonish anyone for hurting someone who did not deserve it. He also loves how you look out for those less fortunate and that your heart swells with sadness when you witness oppression of any kind. A woman like you doesn't come along in a man's life; you seem to possess every quality Curly loves about women. You usually ignore it when his boys behave in an obnoxious manner, but this time, you had good reason for your reaction.
"Please don't cry, YN," Curly implores.
You dry your eyes and suck back your tears. "Ok," you respond and Curly can see how you're fighting against your urge to cry, but you stop simply because he asked you to and although he wants you to be free with your feelings, he cannot stand watching you like this and knowing that his friends caused it.
Curly takes your hand and feels elated when you don't pull away.
"I guess I ain't good with words," Curly mutters. "But I really care about you and I told my boys iffin' you was still wantin' to stay away from me that I would whoop their hides just for you."
You smile and his heart lifts and he chuckles for a moment. "I ain't joshin,' I'll lick both them cowboys real good!" He continues.
"Curly Bill," you begin. "I do want to see you. I want to see you," your voice falling into a whisper. He brushes the hair away from your face.
"You do? You ain't kiddin'? Cuz this old cowboy would be real happy if you'll let me see you." He puts his hands up as if surrendering. "And I won't let my boys so nothin' to ever upset you since those boys should know better that to make you sad. Maybe I'll just have to whoop them boys right in front of you!"
You cover your mouth with your hand and begin laughing and that makes Curly so elated, he grows enthusiastic and feels relaxed again knowing that he still has a chance of making you his girl and maybe even make you his wife.
"It's a deal," you answer, squeezing his hand.
"Well, then I'm gonna make them boys apologize to you right now since I know where they are!"
"I'm a little afraid of those older saloons, Curly Bill." You answer in a fearful voice.
He looks at you and helps you out of your seat. He kisses your head. Then he cups your face in his clumsy hands and looks into your eyes.
"You ain't never got to worry about anyone hurtin' you as long as old Curly is around! And those boys are gonna know they're gonna answer to me they do anything to bother you. Iffin' it ain't me, you know Ringo would take care of them boys real good for you."
The two of you walk out together and when the other cowboys see you and Curly enter the Dead End, they all stand as if at attention.
"Boys! You better listen up,"Curly bellows, his arm around your waist.
"Iffin' anyone bothers YN again, you will answer to me or to Ringo!" Curly glances at Ringo, who is standing with his arms folded, watching the scene before him.
The cowboys take their hats off and bow their heads in your presence.
"You got somethin' to say to YN, don't you boys?" Curly growls, his arm still clinging to your waist.
Ike Clanton moves forward, playing his the hat in his hands. "YN, I'm real sorry for hurtin' that old timer. I ain't got no words, but I'm real sorry." Ike looks at Frank McClaury who appears a bit less concerned until Ringo moves and stands next to the younger cowboy. Frank glances at Curly and then at Ringo and swallows hard.
"I'm real sorry, too." He bleats.
"I'm makin' somethin' real clear to you boys right now! Iffin' you ever upset her again, you ain't gonna be above snakes for long and I promise you that!"
Curly Bill takes you out of the Dead End and asks you where you would like to go and you tell him you'd prefer a walk outside of town.
"I'll get my Appaloosa from the livery," Curly answers. "And we'll go for a ride together. How'd that be?"
You nod and kiss him on the cheek which causes Curly's grin to grow into a wide smile. "You're mighty special, YN, you know that?" He tells you.
"I don't know what you see in this old cowboy and everybody 'round here seems to want to remind me of that. Old Fred told me he don't know what you like about me and well he all but said out loud that I ain't good enough for you and I know that. You could have your pick of any man here and you like old Curly Bill Brocious and hell, I can't even figure that!"
"I've always liked you, Curly Bill," you confess. "There's something about you that I don't see in other men. You're so strong and brave and well... I've never known a man so strong." You whisper, looking shyly at the ground. Curly Bill lifts your chin so he can look into your large, liquid eyes. Eyes so full of wonder and love. "You're so..." You laugh at your own shyness. "Manly. You're so manly, Curly Bill and then you're so gentle with me. You can do things most men are too afraid or too weak to do. You just do it because you're so strong and brave and daring. So manly and then so gentle. It's the perfect combination! And well, I just never met a man like you before, Curly Bill Brocious, King of the Cowboys!"
"That's about the nicest thing anyone's ever said to this old cowboy," Curly Bill answers, taking his hat off and beaming from ear to ear. "Damn, you sure got a way with words, YN! I don't know what to say cept you're so sweet and special to me!" Curly Bill shakes his head, the smile never leaving his face. "Just about the most special person in my whole life! Any man would be damn lucky and over head and ears you were his girl. I guess what I'm tryin' to ask you is," Curly stumbles over his words and starts to feel his face grow red. "Well, YN, I was thinkin' and hopin' that well, you'd be my girl." Curly Bill takes his hat off again and waits for your response. You smile and hug the rustler tight. He can't believe that just a day earlier, you told him you never wanted to see him again and now, he's got you in his arms, hoping you'll agree to be his one and only.
"Oh, Curly Bill! Really? That would be just fine with me!"
Curly Bill guffaws loudly and picks you up so he can hold you. You take his face and kiss him. He brushes your neck with his mustache.
"Your mustache tickles!" You laugh loudly.
"Well, I'm gonna tickle you all over," he guffaws.
You share your first real kiss before he escorts you safely home.
#tombstone cowboys#headcanon#tombstone movie#curly bill brocius#wild west#love#western fiction#what would curly bill do#Curly Bill
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hello my love !!!
this is me begging you to talk about ralbert from the small town au. anything. everything. whatever your mind comes up with. they’re My Boys and i wanna hear all your thoughts on them
i love you so so much mwah mwah <333
oh boy oh BOY
for those of you who aren't versed in the small town au, the gist is:
Race is a barrel racer in the rodeo circuit and his family owns a ranch.
Albert is a "junior" mechanic at his Uncle's shop and specializes in fixing up trailers and trucks.
they're dating! in secret! and they love each other!
and i have been having a LOT of thoughts about their relationship, specifically because of how they're hiding it.
who knows if i'll ever actually write this, but i think that their coming out scene would be a pretty big deal. my last one shot for them left off with Race confessing and asking al to go to a rodeo in Montana with him, so i think their coming out scene would be there?
just picture it: Race has just hit his all-time best run, coming in at about 14 seconds instead of his usual 16, and they're celebrating. i think they'd sneak off to the trailers and kiss; al would hold him, race would be a giggly mess, and everything would be perfect.
but Race's dad is at the rodeo, too; he came to watch Racer compete and meet up with some old buddies from college, and now he's stumbling across his son kissing another man.
i have a lot more thoughts about the aftermath of this, so feel free to send asks!!
***
"Racer? Are you back here-- Oh, what in the... Anthony?"
And the moment is ruined.
Race's eyes widen as he pulls away from the kiss, instantly pushing Albert back; his heart pounds in his throat as he spins around, facing his father. A big, tough man. Hardened from years of ranch life. Brutal when he wants to be
Race stares at him like a deer in the headlights and can already feel the earth shifting beneath his feet.
"Pa," Race chokes out, eyes wide. "This- This ain't what it looks like, I swear, we was just--"
"You were kissin' DaSilva," his father says evenly, taking a few steps forward. "Anthony..."
With one glance to the side, Race sees the panic written all across Al's face: wide eyes, furrowed brows, his chest rising and falling so fast he may as well just finished a marathon.
Race takes in a shaky breath. "Don't- Don't hurt him, Pa, it's my- it's my fault, I kissed him and he didn't want it and- and it ain’t gonna happen again, I'm sorry, I- I just--"
"Tony," his father cuts him off again, and Race flinches when he sees one of his father's hands raise. His dad has never laid a hand on him, has never so much as yelled at him, but Race has seen the news. Read the articles. This might be the straw that breaks the camel's back.
But instead of a fist making contact with his face, all Race feels is a hand on his shoulder, pulling him into a tight hug.
His father sighs, and Race can feel the way his grip tightens. "I'm sorry, son," He says in that gruff, accented voice of his. As he pulls back, Race looks up, and sees a look of sincerity written all over his father's face, visible even under all of the dirty blonde facial hair he has.
"Sorry?" Race repeats, gulping. "What- What'd'ya mean?"
"I'm sorry you felt like ya had to hide," He answers, then glances to Albert. "Look, I... I ain't gonna lie, this'll take some gettin' used to, but... but you boys are okay in my books."
"Y'ain't mad?" Albert’s voice, sounding shakier than usual, says from thr side.
Race's dad shakes his head. "'Course I ain’t," He says, then looks back down at Race. "Look, just... just be careful. I'm proud of you."
Race hugs him, and lets the few tears he's been holding back fall, digging his fingers into the back of his dad's pearlsnap Wrangler shirt.
Once he pulls back, he instinctively reaches for Albert’s hand. Race leans into his boyfriend's shoulder as his dad watches them, looking... confused, but not angry.
"How... How long have y'all two been together?" He asks.
Race and Al glance at each other, and Al finally meets Mr. Higgins' gaze. "Since eighth grade, sir."
"Since eighth-- Christ almighty," He whispers, rubbing his forehead, before nodding. "And y'all have had to hide it for this long... Christ, I'm sorry, boys."
"It ain’t your fault, sir," Al says with a gulp. "We, uh. We knew what we was gettin' into."
Mr. Higgins sighs. "Do your folks know, Red?"
"No, sir. They... wouldn't take it as gracefully as you have," Albert admits with a sigh, squeezing Race's hand.
"Them sons of bitches can kiss my ass," Mr. Higgins mutters. "You're always welcome at the ranch, okay? And if they give you any shit, you best tell me. I'll set 'em straight for ya."
Albert smiles and nods, not trusting his voice to work with the tears slowly welling up in his eyes. He looks down at Race, who stares up into Albert’s eyes with his signature grin.
And things will never be perfect.
They're sure as hell getting better, though.
#chandler ilysm#theres not many headcanons in this but. you know where im coming from#ily !!!#ask a jac !#jac writes#chandler tag#newsies#livesies#newsies musical#newsies live#racetrack higgins#albert dasilva#ralbert#spam ralbert gang
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Just wanna say your and your twin's blog is great. I'm a secret Anna x Johan gal so gotta stay hidden for now lol. My writing prompt idea is set after Monster. Anna gets a job on the side of her studies and one day when she makes her way home she swears she spots Johan's silhouette. Next time is when she goes to a bar to pass time and he confronts her when they're alone and specifically makes a point on her revealing outfit. He decides to kidnap her out of possessiveness to "protect" her...
🌿OffChara🌿
OH THIS IS GOOD... Imagining Anna in this beautiful but kind of revealing tight dress, and she looks absolutely gorgeous, plenty of eyes are on her. But it can't be too revealing, it has to be something she'd be comfortable wearing. Something short, but not too short, cut from the front so it exposes her cleavage nicely, all black, maybe a nice dark green? With long sleeves, exposed shoulders, the fabric hugs her body perfectly. It's a bit out of her comfort zone but she ends up loving the way it looks on her. The only thing I'm going to change about your request is the kidnapping part, I'll take a different approach to it.
🦋
"Where in the world are you taking me?!" She was mad, actually, she was absolutely livid. One moment she was chatting with some girls at a nice bar, the next, she sees her brother for the first time after months of searching for him, because one day he woke up from his comma and disappeared from the face of the earth. But she knew that wasn't true, she always felt a shadow in the corner of every building, a pair of eyes glued to her back every now and then. She knew Johan didn't go too far.
Now, here she was, sitting in the passenger seat of his car, shock, disbelief and relief swirling inside her head "Where have you been?! Answer me!" She's been yelling at him ever since they left the bar, and of course she had willingly let him lead her to his car, she was not planning on taking her eyes off him. She doesn't want to lose him again "Johan! Stop the fucking car! Now!" To her surprise, he does, he pulls over to the side of the road and puts the car on park.
"What were you doing there?" Johan finally speaks up.
"I could ask you the same thing!"
"Since when do you enjoy going to bars?"
Anna scoffs, "Are you kidding me? Who cares! Johan where- where have you been!? Answer my goddamn questions!"
"I care" Johan sounds like he's holding back, "What are you wearing?"
Anna is so mad he's ignoring all her questions, she's almost shaking with how angry she is. She clenches and unclenches her fists, and takes a few deep calming breaths "A dress, Johan... I thought it was obvious"
"I can see your breasts" He comments and it makes her look down, it's true, it's a bit too revealing but it looks amazing on her, "Yeah, so what?"
"It's too revealing"
"Are you serious? Are you honestly more concerned about the dress I'm wearing right now than the fact that I haven't seen you in seven months after you escaped the hospital... Johan, I've been waiting to talk to you for so long I..." Choking up is inevitable, she wants to slap him so hard right now but she won't, she can't bring herself to ever hurt him.
Johan takes his coat off and hands it over to her, then brings her in close gently and slowly, giving her enough time to pull away before he wraps his arms around her tight. He thought he'd be too weak to initiate anything himself, but he knows that looks on her face, she's about to cry. And he's been looking forward to holding her for so long.
Anna quickly wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly close, quietly sobbing against his ear. It's warm. The closeness makes them feel whole.
After what feels like an eternity, Anna pulls away from the hug gently to wipe away her tears. Her mascara is ruined and she knows that she looks like a mess.
"You look gorgeous in that dress" It's almost a whisper, "And this will sound selfish, but I'd like to be the only one to see you dressed in it" He sets his eyes on the road now, pulling away to start driving again.
#anonask#anna liebert#johan liebert#johan x anna#anna x johan#this was very fun aaaa#Message me whenever for more!
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𝐂𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐃𝐞𝐤𝐮, 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐨
𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐊𝐔.
→ Okay. Izuku Midoriya? A sadist.
→ And you've been a brat all day, because he's been busy fighting crime as a newly debuted pro hero, and you can't help it if Izuku's new suit fits him a little too well.
→ And of course, the one day he finally has time to take you on a date you two go to the mall, only to be swarmed with thousands of Pro Hero Deku fans buzzing with requests for photo's and autographs and other bullshit and you just want to clobber them in the head and spit the ugly truth in their faces—that at the end of the day, their lovely Deku comes home to you, and sleeps next to you, and the fact that they can steal his attention away from you is absolutely outrageous. Blasphemy.
→ So naturally, you start acting up. You roll your eyes at the next fan who asks you to take the picture and you scoff at the next fan that announces their love. You pile them on, offense after offense, and by the time you get into the car, Izuku's practically vibrating with anger.
"Say one word and I'm bending you over the hood."
→ Oh.
→ Needless to say, you're squirming the whole ride; though you're unsure if it's from his words, the dead silence, or the tight grip Izuku has on your thigh but either way, the trip back home feels painfully long.
→ The second you two get through the door, he's cornering you into the living room and bending you over the arm of the couch without a second thought, big hands yanking your hips back so your ass sticks out just the way he likes it.
"Bratty doll...you wanted my attention that bad, huh?”
→ Izuku exaggerates every other word with a harsh spank that has you whimpering behind a bitten lip. Though eventually, he deems your muffled moans not enough and aggressively yanks your bottoms off, stuffing his fingers into your mouth.
→ Once they're wet enough, he slides a finger in, (because no matter how angry he is, you’re still his baby). But once you're ready? It's game over.
→ You figured Izuku was going to be a tease about it, but once he sits you on his cock and doesn't move, it has you squirming in confusion. What the hell could he be waiting for?
"Awe, what's the matter, doll? Did you want me to move?"
→ The hold his hands have on your waist is tight enough that you can't even twitch your hips—and the grip only gets tighter the more you wiggle in protest. Izuku tuts, landing a slap to your bruised ass that makes one thing clear: You’re not moving.
→ The green-haired bastard turns on the tv, for fucks sake. And has the audacity to pretend like he's paying attention to whatever's on—because it's not like you're paying attention, too preoccupied with the cock in your guts. You can't squirm because something tells you that'll only lengthen the punishment you've been sentenced to, but by the end of the first episode, it's a little hard not to.
→ Izuku caves the second you start begging. Mostly because it was what he was waiting for, but also he's probably struggling worse than you while he watches you whimper and squirm in his lap.
“Fine, doll. Since you waited so patiently, I guess I can make you feel good.”
𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈.
→ 100% your idea
→ And he had absolutely no warning. The Bakusquad decided to hold a movie night in the common room on a random Saturday evening when the dorms were pretty much empty. Katsuki didn't even want to be down there in the first place, but after you winked so prettily and promised he'd get a treat if he came, he didn't grumble nearly as much.
→ But what he didn't know was that you meant right now.
→ Katsuki knew something was up the second you sat in his lap and asked Denki for a blanket—that's rarely your Bakusquad move night cuddle position, plus you're always saying how you never need a blanket because Katsuki runs so warm.
→ And he definitely knew something was up when you started grinding against him, not even ten minutes into whatever shitty action movie Denki and Eijirou convinced the group to watch this time. His hands rush to your hips because if Katsuki Bakugou is anything, he's not a goddamn exhibitionist.
"Oi, the fuck are you doing, dumbass? They're gonna fuckin' see."
→ But as always, you take his words with a grain of salt, already blindly fiddling with the buckle of his belt despite his threats (AKA, I'm gonna fuckin' kill you, you fuckin' heathen). The metal clinks for a second and both of you tense, but it seems no one hears it over the movie, so. You relax.
→ Katsuki does not.
→ You wait for a loud crash from the television speakers and you're sinking down on Katsuki's cock, his teeth tearing into your shoulder as he holds back a moan. Both of you let out a shaky breath when you bottom out.
"W-Well? You gonna fuckin' move or what?"
→ You shake your head.
"No? Fuck."
→ And honestly, all is well until about twenty minutes into the movie. At this point, Katsuki's semi-comatose, eyes half-lidded from the surprisingly peaceful warmth you're both encompassed in. But unfortunately, this peace is disturbed by a rude awakening that comes in the form of none other than Denki Kaminari.
→ All he does is mention how Katsuki looks much too out of it, owing it all to "y/n's juicy caboose," but it has your boyfriend practically rearing on his hind legs in fury either way.
→ In the middle of all the commotion, you take the opportunity to wiggle your hips a bit, rendering the majority of Katsuki's arguments repetitive and ineffective. The bickering blond's shut up once Mina calls for it, and Katsuki returns to whisper-yell threats in your ear again.
"Do you want us to get fuckin' caught? Huh? I ca—fuckin' hell—stop movin’!"
→ But you giggle, having a little too much fun with this. The death grip Katsuki has around your thigh implies he’s closer than you thought, and the moment the action in the movie starts to pick up again, so does the steady roll of your hips.
→ Katsuki practically whimpers into your ear, body shaking with restraint because he lacks the proper space to “put you in your place” or however he wants to put it. You know he’s teetering on the edge when he resorts to something Katsuki Bakugou never does—begging.
“Babe—babe c-c’mon please, I don’t wanna—”
→ Katsuki’s nails dig into your thigh and he shivers as he fills you up, bottom teeth digging into his swollen lip. His quiet moans push you off the edge as well, adding to the mess under the blanket as fake explosions emanate from the tv screen.
→ That was...something.
“I hate you so goddamn much.”
→ You snort, rolling your eyes at his overdramatic ass. But?
“...But that was the hottest sex of my fuckin’ life.”
𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀.
→ You and Hanta definitely do this once a month. At least.
→ Getting high with Hanta as your boyfriend is probably one of your favorite things. He's got snacks, cool LED lights, a monitor that constantly plays animal planet while the speakers play lofi. It's an experience.
→ And of course, you two get horny—though sex is a little hard when you're feeling fuzzy. Hanta's a high-functioning stoner but frankly, you're not, and even he gets a little fumbly when it comes down to it. Cockwarming seemed like the only viable option.
→ Half of the time, it's not even that sexual. Watching otters chase each other with his back pressed up against yours as you bask in a familiar warmth that only comes from true human connection is nice. Feeling his lips place butterfly kisses against the column of your neck is nice. Just...being with Hanta is nice.
→ But tonight? Tonight it's definitely sexual.
"So warm, Princess. You know your body does things to me, don't you?"
→ You didn't, but the way he says it definitely makes you believe him, and so does the way he rubs his hands up and down your sides. Hanta bites into your neck and you stifle a moan, balancing yourself on his knees.
→ You jump when his hand ghosts your inner thigh, and he chuckles when you bite your lip, eyes trained on the hand moving between your legs.
"Like it when I rub you like that, Princess? Like it when I turn you into a messy little puddle in my arms, hmm?"
→ You whine and nod, chest shuddering with the threat of an impending orgasm. Hanta curses behind you, the hand holding you steadily by the waist tightening.
"Shit—keep clenching like that and you might make me cum, Princess."
→ Hanta huffs out a laugh but you can hear the genuine implication behind it, can feel it in the pant of his breath against your neck. The thought of making him cum from something so simple has you hurtling towards your orgasm at an alarming speed, nails digging into his forearm as the weight of your marijuana-laced orgasm hits you like a fucking freight train.
→ Hanta moans breathily, eyebrows knitting as his own orgasm catches him by surprise. His hips twitch and it almost sends you flying off his lap but somehow, you don't go tumbling—though you might owe that to the vice grip Hanta has on your hip.
→ You two come down, basking in the gentle blue of the ocean as the chatter from the Australian narrator about the Humpback whales and their baleen teeth fills the room. You move to get up but Hanta whines, hands keeping you still via your waist.
"Lemme stay inside for a bit...'S warm."
[a/n: thanks for stopping by angel, and let me know who you want to see next <3. see you soon!]
—ᴛʜɪs ɪs ᴀɴ 𝟷𝟾+ ʙʟᴏɢ. ᴍɪɴᴏʀs ᴅɴɪ
#— 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈#— 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀#— 𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐊𝐔#bnha headcanons#bnha smut#bnha fanfiction#bakugou headcanons#bakugou smut#bakugou x reader#deku x reader#deku headcanons#deku smut#sero headcanons#sero x reader#sero smut
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im in love with you, sorry; deku
prompt: there's this boy. he's an angel. he's always helping the people around him, just for the sake of seeing them happy. and when you met him, it's almost impossible not to fall for this boy. the only thing that is stopping you from confessing, is him. "you have constellation in your face"
genre: angst
reader: gn neutral
tw: angst, unrequited love, swearing, deku being totally oblivious, reader is really sad lol, regrets, humiliation (not by deku but the reader gets into awkward situations), injuries (not that bad, reader just faints) mentions of killing reader (just once and it was a joke)
note: hiii, this is my second angst lmao, please don't expect too much. english is not my first language so I'm pretty sure i'll be messing up with some grammar. sorry!!
if you could turn back time, would you have the courage to tell him the truth?
maybe everything would be different.
or maybe not.
you felt the sweat rolling down your face, the weather getting cold and the roughness of the floor. everything was blurry, and the only thing that you heard, was his voice.
"[name] can you hear me?!"
"open your eyes please!". you thought he was crying, and the last thing your blurry vision could see, was those beautiful green eyes, staring at you with so much fear. then, everything became white. the smell of medicine and the feeling of being stuck between your body and your mind, was suffocating. you're in the nursing. there's no noise around you, just a messy green hair that peeks over the couch.
"deku?"
he wakes up almost immediately as you say his name.
"dear lord! [name] are you okay?!" he approached your bed and his bright eyes let you know how concerned he was.
"what happened to me?"
"we were training in the gym, and it seems that denki was going really hard to you" his lips pressed between them and a sad face painted his beautiful features "and you fainted. we were so worry about you".
his voice. his words. everything was magical when it comes about him. you felt your heart ache when his calloused hands touch your face.
how he would react to your love towards him. would he accept it? would he reject you?
you'll never know.
"did I scared you?" you asked.
"i almost faint too. don't push yourself too much. we care about you"
'do you care about me just as much I care about you?' you asked to yourself.
"even kacchan tried to get into the room to check on you" his beautiful fingers were running in your hair, so delicately that you think you're about to fall asleep again. his shining eyes were staring at you. even his freckles looked like a constellation.
"your frackles are like a constellation. you have stars in your face"
and as you pronounced those words, his face painted in a vivid red.
"don't say something like that"
'does your heart beat as fast like mine?'
"please rest a little. I'll be checking on you"
"you don't need to. you have stuff to do, Izuku"
he moves his head in disapproval. "nothing is more important than your health and your life. stuff can wait"
you want to kick him. how is it possible to him to be so kind with you? he makes you feel like you're the most important thing in the world. he makes you feel special, loved. but behind his lovely words and actions, you know that he's being just kind. he's being friendly. he's just a good boy.
your boy with stars in his face.
"can i ask you something?" he nods at your question. your blood rushes all over your body so fast, that you feel your body getting cold. maybe it's the medicine. maybe the pain in your back as you try to reach his face.
"i think I caught..."
the door crashes with all of your classmates.
"[name]! thanks god you're okay!" mina run into your bed almost crashing your bones into a tight hug.
"you're gonna hurt them" kirishima giggles.
then, you see a blonde boy coming to you. kaminari checks on you and your bruises. his face turns pale and his eyes starts to lose the light.
"I'm so, so, so sorry for everything I've done to you. I didn't realize how rough i was fighting. I've never wanted to hurt you. please forgive me" he says, at the edge of crying.
you laugh at his guilty face. "it was a mistake" you smiled at him "and i forgive you. you didn't kill me after all. but I'll get revange"
he chuckles and nods.
"you asshole" scoffs bakugou at the back of the room.
after everyone checking on you, every single person leaves the room, except for Izuku. who takes a little bit longer to see if you fever was rising.
"i'll talk to them and i'll be back. don't move"
"as if I could" he giggles.
his presence fades between the door and the corridor. you rest your head in your pillow, thinking about your almost-confession.
'i think i caught feelings for you. i'm in love with you, sorry'
you were about to open your heart, just for him. you wonder about his answer. you wonder how his hands could cup your face while staring at you with so much love. you want that. you want him to love you. you want him to hug you tight before heading to the dormitories. you want to run your fingers over his fuzzy and messy hair.
you want him so bad that it hurts.
your face turn to your right, just to see mina's backpack in the floor. you think in the important homework that aizawa talked in the class, and you worry about your friend. you try to get up, even with your sore legs. you rush over the door, hearing their voices in the next corner. you were about to yell your friends name, when you hear your own.
"i feel so bad for [name]. i didn't want to hurt them. i swear"
"we know, kaminari. it was an accident. shit happens" says mina.
"talking about [name], how's your relationship with them going on, midoriya" you think this voices is from sero.
"relationship?" asks.
"yeah. you're a couple, right?"
Izuku keeps quiet. you would like to see his face.
"im not in a relationship with them. we are friends"
"i thought you were together. i mean, they're always staring at you like your are the most beautiful thing in the whole world" kirishima voice echoes in your head.
your blood is running even colder than before. even your legs shakes a little.
"we are just friends" he says putting a little bit more of enphasis in his words. "i think of [name] as a friend. maybe a sibling. they're important to me, but I don't think I could ever date them. it's not my thing and I'm not looking for a romance right now in my life. i want to do other things that are more important, than a romantic relationship"
you alredy knew. you knew he couldn't love you, but still, you hoped that maybe, and just maybe, he would feel the same way.
it hurts.
"oh, come on, midoriya. they're a good person. i think they would be a great partner"
"even if it's like that, im not interested. i love them, but in a different way"
you felt the knob choking your throat. the warm and salty tears running all over your cheeks. you want to be alone. so you return to the room, walking as fast as your pain let you. at this point, you don't even know which part of your body hurts the most. your legs. your back. your arms. your heart.
you can't even see clearly with the tears blurrying your vision. so this is his answer.
but you still feel stupid. because you knew. you alredy knew he couldn't love. he couldn't be the izuku that you want him to be. you wish you could change your heart. just for another one. another heart that doesn't love deku so deeply.
you feel again the comfortable pillow behind your head, hugging you or so you felt. you can't stop thinking about his words. you can't even be angry at him, cause he's not a bad person. you can't blame him just for not corresponding your feelings. you can't be that selfish. he's only working over his dreams.
and sadly, you're not one of his.
but his one of yours.
the door opens, his face tired and big eyes stared at you with worry.
"[name]! what's going on? do you feel any pain? i'll call the nurse. don't worry. just don't cry please"
and you can't help but cry more.
he's a truly angel. even when he broke your heart, he still worries about you.
"im in love with you. sorry"
OMG! i wrote that. i hope it was sad enough. i also think I messed up with a lot of grammar, but i think it's understandable lol.
thank you for reading!!
#mha angst#Izuku angst#my hero academia#deku angst#bnha angst#Bnha x reader#deku x reader#bnha fanfiction#my hero academia angst#denki angst#boku no hero x reader#mha deku
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Day in the Life of a Single Dad with a 2 Yr Old
This was requested by this anon.
AN: let me know if you guys like fluff fics & i'll try to write them as frequent as my smut & sicfics. also couldn't come up with a better title so... yeah the title is a lil iffy.
Things to help you understand this story better:
(Harry is a single parent/Harry is 25/Harry is a healthy eater/Loves his daughter so much)
Harry is peacefully sleeping in his bed alone. Covers to his chin, curled up on his side. That is until his beautiful two year old daughter comes barging in there to wake her daddy up. He shouldn't be asleep she thinks. It's too late. In reality its only 7 am on a Saturday, but to an early riser like her, he should be awake and playing with her. Or making her breakfast.
Her little feet pad over to her daddy's side of the bed. She can barley reach him due to the height of his bed, but manages to stretch her little arms up and taps on Harrys face. "Daddy, wake up." she speaks in her little British accent. Harry slowly opens his eyes and immediately squeezes them shut because of the sunlight coming from the window blinding him. "Daddy!!" his daughter says a little louder.
If his daughter was any older, Harry might tell her to wait a few minutes or go back to bed because it's too early, but he knows she's only 2. So he forces his eyes open again and reaches down to hook his hands in her tiny arm pits to lift her on the bed. "Why are you awake so early babe." he asks in a gravely voice, while placing her on his bare chest.
"I hungry." her tiny voice replies.
"Mhmm what would you like?" Harry mumbles sleepily.
"Sweets." she says innocently.
"I don't think so love. We don't eat sweets for breakfast. It will give you a tummy ache. What about a healthy fruit salad. We have some Watermelon and Strawberries in the fridge." he replies to his daughter who's straddling his chest.
"NO, I WANT SWEETS! I WANT SWEETS!" she yells back with angry tears threatening to escape.
"D/n, we do not yell!" her father speaks firmly. "We can't have sweets but we can have something other than a fruit salad if you want. Lets go down and see what we have." With a tight grip on his upset daughter, Harry gets out of bed and makes his way down the spiral staircase and into the kitchen.
This wasn't something new to him. Ever since his daughter turned 2 in August, she's been acting up a lot more than previously. You could say it was the terrible twos everyone talks about. Harry tries his hardest to teach her the proper ways to behave but it's been proven to be a lot more difficult than anticipated. Especially hard when he's busy all the time and isn't with her 24/7 like stay-at-home mums are or stay-at-home dads were. He's a musician. Not a so called musician that gets excited to book a Friday night at the local pub. No, Harry is a international pop star.
When he ended up getting a one-night stand pregnant, he told them they could do what they wanted as far keeping the baby or not. Harry has always been one to agree that its a women's choice. But his one-night stand wanted to have the baby. Honestly, you'd think Harry would get angry that she decided to keep it, but he wasn't. Maybe it wasn't the ideal situation to have a baby from a one-night stand that he had on tour, but he being the loving Harry everyone seems to know and love, of course tried to look at it as a positive thing. But when his daughter was born, his one-night stand got her minute of fame by saying she had Harry Styles baby and left. Abandoned her own blood. Harry had to get full custody of his daughter and ever since then she's been living with her daddy.
It was really hard the first few months of her life. A baby needs their mothers comfort and warmth and she had none of that. She never got the opportunity to breast feed or feel the love of her mother, and Harry feels sick just thinking about it. So Harry put his career on hold for a few months to take care of his daughter and show her that someone cares for her. He never wanted her to feel unloved. It was his biggest fear. That's why every day since the day she was born, he tells her how much he loves her. Shows her how much he loves her.
He did all her nightly feedings with warmed up formula in bottles. He changed her diapers at all hours of the day. He gave her baths every day to make sure she smelled nice and clean. And when she turned 1 years old and was getting more active, he took her to the studio with him and let her play her toys.
Just because Harry is a single parent doesn't mean he doesn't have help or support. He has a lot of help when it comes to taking care of his daughter. His sister Gemma babysits all the time for him when he's got something very important to do at the studio where he'd prefer if his daughter wasn't there. Harry's mum watches his daughter frequently when he has a interview he needs to attend. Even some of Harry's friends watch or take care of her when needed. Especially some of his ex bandmates that have kids of their own now. Harry's daughter has playdates with Bear, Liam's son about once a month. They're about the same age and their dads are friends so it works out great. His daughter has even played with Freddie, Louis's son. Not as much because Freddie lives in America but when he comes to England to spend time with his father they hang out. Freddie and Harry's daughter are quite similar. They were both created due to a one-night stand. The only difference is Freddie's mum wanted him. Didn't abandon him. So he has a relationship with both parents. Needless to say, besides all the things a mother can give to their child, his daughter has a good life. People love her, and once again that's all Harry could ask for. People and himself to love his daughter.
After fighting with his daughter about what to eat for breakfast, she finally settles for some Strawberry pancakes as long as they have chocolate syrup on top. Harry gives in and allows a little chocolate for her to have with breakfast. She sits in her high chair munching on the pancakes while Harry cleans the mess from cooking. Like washing the pan and wiping the stove off. When he's finished cleaning, he notices his daughter has stopped eating and is just making a mess with her food at this point.
Walking up to her high chair, Harry bends down and lifts her sticky body up and says, "Alright, time to give you a bath little one."
"No bath daddy! Me no want a bath!" she yells and attempts to kick her fathers legs but Harry grabs ahold of them in his big hand and stops her movements which makes her small body more angry. She screams very loud in his ear and pounds her baby fist in his shoulders, expressing her anger. Harry really wants to get upset. But what he's read in parenting books is that if you ignore their behavior and act like you don't see their tantrums, it will make it better and they'll give up on trying so hard to show their anger. Because most toddlers have tantrums to try and get attention from their parent(s). By ignoring it, you're not feeding into it.
"I'm sorry but you have chocolate all over you love. Need to get you clean because I need to take you to the studio for a few hours with me today. How does that sound?" trying to make bath time and going to the studio sound fun.
After fighting with Darcy to get in the bath, Harry finally got her in the tub. He struggled to wash her curly hair due to the fact she wouldn't sit still, even after he gave her a rubber ducky to play with. Once he's washed her hair and chocolate covered body, Harry picks her up and wraps her in a big fluffy towel, then takes her to her room to get changed. He manages to get a pull up on her, (still trying to potty train), and puts a lovely red track suit on her with some Gucci shoes. Then he carries her in front of the bathroom mirror to brush her hair.
"Be good for daddy and let me brush your hair." Harry tells his daughter in a gentle manner.
As soon as he passes the brush in her hair, his daughter screams, "Owww, it hurts daddy!"
10 minutes later, Harry has brushed her locks and put her hair into some cute pigtails. With his 2 year old crying in the process. He's pretty good at doing hair because he used to have longer hair himself. Then he picks her up off the counter and places her on the ground, walking her to his bedroom.
"Can you lay in my bed while I get ready? I'll put on your favorite show." he questions calmly.
"Peppa Pig, Peppa Pig, Peppa Pig!" is daughter chants.
"Alright, alright." He picks up his baby girl and sets her in the middle of his bed. Then he grabs the remote to turn his wall mounted tv on. He scrolls on Netflix and finds Peppa Pig to keep her occupied. Then goes to his bathroom to get dressed and ready to head to the studio.
When he exits his bathroom fully dressed and ready to leave, he finds a sleeping toddler on his bed, snuggled into his pillow. Her perfectly outlined lips slightly parted. Harry can't help but smile. He loves his baby girl with his entirety and seeing her peaceful like this makes him so happy. He turns the tv off and carefully picks her up into his arms and heads down the stairs to his car in the garage. But not before stopping by her room to pick up her mini backpack that holds extra pullups and a sippy cup full of juice, with some of her toys as well. Her tiny face is stuffed into her daddy's neck and Harry can feel light puffs of air hitting his skin. He puts his daughter in her car seat and buckles her up properly. Then gets in himself to drive to the studio.
About 5 minutes away from the studio, Darcy wakes up from her late morning nap and whines out, "Me wanna go home and play with you!"
"I'm sorry but I have to work for a little bit. I'll play with you when we get home later. How does that sound Hmm?" She was not satisfied with her fathers answer and starts wailing. Hot salty tears run down her little cheeks and she makes exaggerated sounds to emphasize her crying. She kicks at the seat in front of her and balls her fist up as if she's going to hit something but unfortunately to her, she can't reach a single thing due to her seat belt. Once again, Harry just ignores her cries of anger and turns the radio on loud to block it out.
By the time they arrive at the studio, Harry's daughter has calmed down. She's still upset but at least she isn't crying and that's progress in Harry's eyes. He parks his car in a secluded area to hide from potential paparazzi and unbuckles her. Then shields her face form potential cameras and make their way into the music studio. Harry has to record some audio for his newest album so that's why he needed to come in today. They enter the studio where the rest of his solo band is. He prefers to record the instruments live instead of manufactured drums and guitars.
At some point when he was getting ready in his home bathroom, Harry had called his assistant and told her he needed to bring his daughter in to the studio with him so she could watch her while he's busy. She agreed but being Harry Styles assistant, it wasn't really an option. Not that Harry would force her but she's an assistant for a reason. To do jobs Harry assigns her. In this case babysit his toddler while he records a song. He doesn't have anyone else today and unfortunately can't leave her at home with a mummy like many other fathers can. He's just happy his job allows his daughter to be somewhat a part of it. Not in the spotlight because he keeps his daughters identity a secret from the public for her protection, but as far as her going to the studio with him or when she gets older, she can come on tour with him.
Harry's assistant takes his toddler and her mini backpack full of her essentials. They hang out in the open area, out of the way from his band and he himself so he can get what he needs to get done so they can wrap everything up for the album. Harry's daughter actually loves his assistant. They have grown quite close over the 2 years of her life. But because she's going through her terrible twos, the toddler didn't want to behave for anyone today.
About an hour into Harry's work, he's interrupted with a frantic assistant that has a screaming toddler in her arms. "I'm sorry Harry but she's been crying for about 30 minutes and I've done everything I know to do to get her to calm down." Harry isn't upset his assistant came to him for help with his baby. That's not the type of guy he is.
Harry takes off his headphones and walks over to them. He picks his little girl up into his tattooed arms and questions, "Love, why are you upset for? If you keep crying, you'll end up with a tummy ache."
She just hugs around her fathers neck with her little arms and says, "Want you daddy." Those words almost breaks his heart. Harry doesn't know where this sudden want for him has came from.
"You can have me all you want when I'm finished working, alright. I'll be done shortly." He struggles to pass her back over to his assistant, but finally manages. "Maybe she's hungry. I'll give you a few pounds to take her through drive thru at McDonalds. Would you like McDonalds d/n?" She just nods her pigtailed head. He would suggest for them to go inside, but the public knows what his assistant looks like so they'd know that was his daughter. The daughter that has her identity secret for now. His assistant takes the toddler to the McDonalds drive thru and orders her some chicken nuggets. Even through Harrys pescatarian, he still allows his daughter to eat meats. Then Harry goes back to work in the studio.
Around 2 in the afternoon, Harry and the two year old make it back home. The rest of the evening was a little hectic with a few tantrums here and there. Harry cooked them a nice meal for dinner at about 6 and played dolls with her in the short period of time she wasn't upset. Then comes the dreaded bedtime.
Harry changes her into some pjs and helps her brush her teeth. Then when he went to put her in bed, she started crying for the 100th time today. "Me sleep with you daddy." she cries out. There's a part of him that wants to say yes and cave in, but the parent part of him is saying no. She needs to learn to be a big girl. Harry really doesn't understand why she wants to sleep with him all the sudden. She normally has no problem sleeping by herself.
"No baby. You need to be a big girl and sleep in your bed sweetheart. I'm right next door if you need me though okay." His daughter clings to his body and cries fat tears. Harry decides to stay in her room until she falls asleep. So that's what he does. When she subsumes to sleep, he lays her down in her bed and pulls the covers up over her frail body. Then exits her room quietly.
Harry changes into some comfier clothes himself and goes down stairs to get himself a glass of wine. Then he sits on the sofa and turns a series on to watch before bed. Times like now is when he wishes he had a wife. He'd even take a girlfriend. Just someone to hold him late at night and cuddle with him. Even have some type of intimacy. Ever since he found out about his daughter, Harrys game of sleeping around stopped. He didn't want to keep sleeping with random girls when he was becoming a dad. He was raised better than that. So needless to say he was lonely. In every way possible. Mentally, and physically.
Whilst in the middle of the show he's watching, Harry is brought back to reality when he hears a blood-curdling scream from up the stairs. He rushes to set his wine down on the coffee table and runs to his daughters room. When he walks in there, his heart sinks. The toddler is crying so hard she's gasping for air. It's a different cry that he's seen through-out the day. Unlike her terrible twos tantrums, this cry sounds like she's scared. Harry runs to her and picks her up. "Hey what's wrong my love? Tell daddy what's wrong." he asks of his child, soothing her to his chest.
As her tears slow down in the comfort of her daddy's arms, she mumbles, "You left me." Once again Harrys confused because she never acts like this.
Harry walks out her bedroom and goes to sit with her on the sofa downstairs. Then he turns her around on his lap to look at her face more clearly. "Baby, you need to tell daddy why you got scared or why you want me all the sudden."
The little 2 year old takes a deep breath and speaks in her little accent, "On Peppa Pig, they...they said kids like me are supposed to have a mummy AND a daddy. They said daddies can't love their babies like mummy's can. Me was scared you don't love me anymore." Her voice cracked saying the last bit with fresh tears running down her face and Harry has glossy eyes looking down at his distressed but beautiful mini twin. That's right. They look almost exactly alike. He thanks God every day for that because he doesn't want to look at his daughter and be reminded of a one-night stand that's a piece of shit of a mother.
"Look at me d/n. I love you so so so much. I will NEVER stop loving you." at this point he has to take a deep breath so compose his emotions, "And not all kids have mummies. There are a lot of kids who just have a daddy or some just have a mummy. But it doesn't mean I love you any less. Okay?! Don't listen to what they said in Peppa Pig. They were wrong." Finishing his speech, Harry pulls her tiny body forward and hugs her to his warm chest. He has silent tears running down his face. Both hands spread over her boney back. He thinks tonight is appropriate enough to allow her to sleep with him. She needs comfort. "Would you still like to sleep with me?" he asks in a whisper.
"Pleaseee." she responds while crying. Harry stands form the couch, turning the television off and abandoning his barley touched wine glass, and goes to his bedroom. The turns the overhead light off and walks over to the bed. Peeling the covers back, Harry and his daughter, whose on his chest, slide under the warm blankets together. Now she has just about stopped crying. Just little whimpers leaving her body, along with a few hiccups. Harry reaches over to turn the lamp off, leaving the room completely dark. He shushes his baby until her eyes slowly close and she falls asleep with her face burred in his neck and arms around his neck. Her short legs lay limp over his stomach.
Harry has a difficult time falling asleep that night. He feels sorry for his baby girl because he worries that movies and shows with two parents will make her sad and left out because she doesn't have a mummy. He just prays she will see all she'll ever need is her daddy to protect her and love her for the rest of eternity.
MASTERLIST & My Favorite Harry Styles Fics MASTERLIST
#fluff#harrystyles#harrystylesoneshot#dad!harry#dad harry#dadharry#dadharrystyles#harry#styles#singleparent#harrystylessingleparent#comfort#terribletwos#ddm#daddydaughtermoments
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hiya lol could you write a bakugou x reader and (they're dating already) and he's just being soft for her and cuddling in his dorm and he starts tickling her and she's screaming n stuff so the class rush in and are totally not expecting to see bakugou practically sat on reader and tickling her, lol no pressure obvs lol
Ahhhh thank you so so much for the request,lovely!! I really enjoyed writing this one so I hope you like it! Soft boy Bakugou has my whole heart! I’m very slowly making my way through my request inbox, but feel free to send me more prompts to get the creative juices flowin!
Bakugou Katsuki was never one to show affection so openly like his other classmates would with their significant others. He was a reserved person, and the idea of PDA had always embarrassed him. So when the two of you had started dating, you were very aware of how he reacted to being touched, and respected him enough to never poke or prod in public. What took you by surprise though, was how different he was in your private company. The once prickly and standoffish boy couldn’t keep his hands off of you. At first it was jarring, his warm arms around you feeling so foreign and new, but you couldn’t help but relish in it. Sometimes you even found yourself teasing the poor touch deprived boy to see how much he needed your body against his. It was cruel, sure, but also incredibly validating to have Bakugou huff and puff until you paid attention to him. Today was one of those days.
Bakugou made his way to your dorm room after class as he did everyday, his textbooks from class slung over his shoulder in his book bag, fully intent to study and spend some quality time with you. Just being in your presence always had a calming effect on the explosive boy, so he found himself drawn to you every chance he got. He knocked once on your door before letting himself in, tossing his bag to the floor and locking his crimson eyes onto your form. You were already sitting at your desk, head buried in your book and head nestled in the palm of your hand. You made no movement in his direction, instead keeping your eyes glued to the pages before you.
“Hey, Suki.” You smiled softly at his presence, earning a grunt in return. He threw himself onto your bed, looking over at you longingly but still said nothing as he pulled out his own papers and got to work. The two of you sat in silence for a bit, a smirk ever present on your face. You could feel the boy's frustration radiating off his body and knew that it would only be a matter of time before he got sick of the lack of contact. Bakugou cleared his throat and you lifted your head ever so slightly.
“You okay? You need some water or something?” You teased, finally turning to look at him over your shoulder. He was looking at you with furrowed brows, a light flush spread across his cheeks.
“why the fuck are you still sitting over there?” He asked, trying his best not to sound desperate, but a little seeped through. You could’ve melted on the spot from his tone.
“I’m doing my work.” You stated plainly, turning your back to him once more to hide your smile. You could hear him growl at your response.
“Yeah no shit dumbass, but why are you doing it over there? You don’t want to spend time with me or somethin?” He tried his best to look anywhere but you, feeling the embarrassment overtake him. You could hear the distress in his voice and you couldn’t help but let out the laugh you’ve been stifling. He was so needy and you loved it. You put down your pen on the desk and turned completely in your chair, finally facing your red faced boyfriend.
“the fuck you laughing at?” He looked confused, trying to flesh out the meaning of your behavior.
“Aw what’s the matter, Katsuki? Does someone need attention?” You teased again, your head cocked to the side toyingly. You saw his demeanor change immediately. The once confused expression was replaced with a devious grin as realization hit him like a ton of bricks. You were fucking with him.
“Oh, you little shit!” Bakugou jumped off of his place on the bed and rushed at you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you from the chair roughly. You couldn’t stop the loud scream that escaped your mouth, echoing throughout the room and cascading down the hallway of the dorms.
“Tryin to mess with me, huh?” He snickered into your ear, holding you against his body tightly as you tried to fight against his hold. Laughter bubbled out of your throat as Bakugou picked you up with ease, slinging you over his shoulder and making his way back to his previous spot in the room. Despite your kicking and playful fighting, Bakugou’s grip on you barely wavered. He slammed your body down onto the bed and climbed on top of you, a shit eating grin plastered on his face.
“Well now I’m gonna make you pay for that.” His voice was sinister, dangerous, and you had no doubt that he meant business. Panic washed over you, and your fighting against the blondes grip got more frantic.
“No no no!” You laughed nervously, the sound mimicking that of a person in immediate danger, a scream of terror, but you were smiling and so was your boyfriend.
“Too late, you made me mad and now you’ve got to pay for it.” He let his hands live on your hips for a second, relishing in the feeling of your presence, before digging his calloused fingers into the sides of your body. Bakugou’s tickles were vicious, but there was still a certain softness to his hands. He let them roam your body, feeling every curve and smooth expanse of skin. His laugh cascaded around you like snow flurries, beautiful but bitting. To everyone but you, the sound was devious, Filled with malicious intent, but you knew better. So you laughed too. You laughed so hard that you could barely breathe.
“S-stop! Stop please, it hurts!” You felt your lungs burning, your chest tightening uncomfortably as Bakugou’s tickles only got more intense. You let out another scream, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you tried to fight off the strong blonde boy on top of you. It was no use though, he easily overpowered you in your current state. You thought about using your quirk to get him off of you, but honestly you didn’t really want him to stop. You loved feeling his hands wander your body, feeling his hot breath against the crook of your neck. It was intoxicating.
“In your dreams, y/n! You’re fucking dead!” You screamed once again, this time much louder, cowering from the anticipation of his punishment, but it never came. Instead you heard your door swing open, hitting the wall with some force. Both of you jumped at the sudden noise, and the sudden appearance of some familiar faces standing on high alert in your doorway. Bakugou made no motion to move from on top of you, instead shooting a dangerous glare towards the four idiots that had just made their appearance, their voices ringing in his ears like gunfire.
“Y/n?? Are you okay?” Mina’s voice echoed throughout the room immediately
“We heard screaming! Is everyone alright?” Kirishima spoke up next, his voice laced with obvious concern. The four figures froze in the doorway as they took in the actuality of the scene, a blush fighting its way fervently up Bakugou’s neck. Kaminari and Sero attempted to stifle their laughter, but to no avail.
“Oh ho ho, shit!” Looks like we had the wrong idea!” Kaminari snickered, bumping Sero in the side with his elbow.
“Damn, you two sure do have a weird way of gettin it on!” Sero chuckled, causing Kaminari to laugh even harder.
“Come on man, don’t kink shame them!” Kaminari’s stupid voice had Bakugou seething with rage.
“DON'T YOU FUCKERS KNOW HOW TO KNOCK?” Bakugou’s voice bellowed throughout the room, causing you to wince just from sheer proximity. Your face was a light shade of pink from being found in a compromising position, but Bakugou’s was fire engine red. Kirishima shifted awkwardly in his spot, bumping Kaminari hard in an attempt to get him to stop laughing.
“We’re sorry, Bro! It just...sounded like Y/n needed help! that’s all! We were all chilling in Mina’s room down the hall and heard her screaming!” Kirishima pleaded apologetically, clearly shaken that he had overstepped in such a personal way for the angry blonde. The last thing he ever wanted to do was make his best friend angry or uncomfortable.
“JUST GET OUT BEFORE I KILL EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU!” Bakugou yelled again, this time effectively stifling the laughter coming from Kaminari and Sero. Mina let out a soft giggle, ushering the terrified boys out of the room in one swift motion, feigning confidence to hide her own fear of being blown to bits.
“Alright guys, nothin’ to see here! I think we should give these two love birds their privacy.” You could feel Bakugou growl softly at her words, causing you to chuckle into your hand. Mina gave you a wink and a flirty little wave as she closed the door behind her, leaving you and Bakugou alone once more. Bakugou quickly took a pillow from your bed and chucked it at the door as it closed as hard as he could, making contact with a loud thud and earning a screech of terror from the other side of the door.
There was a moment of silence between the two of you before laughter cascaded from your lips. Bakugou looked back at you with wild eyes, clearly confused by the sudden noise of happiness.
“The fuck are you laughing about now?” You shook your head and wiped your eyes before looking back at him, a smile ever present on your face.
“It’s just...of course they had to barge in like that! They never cease to amaze me. ” You let your smile fade slightly as your hand reached out to caress his cheek. He hesitated for a second before allowing his form to melt into your touch.
“I’m sorry, Katsuki. Are you okay? I know you don’t like letting people see you like that. ” Your soft voice enveloped him, causing him to nod ever so slightly into your hand.
“M’fine. Those dumbasses just get under my fucking skin.” You let out a soft laugh, nodding with him.
“I mean, at least we know they’d come save me if I was ever being murdered.” Bakugou let an exhale of breath from his nose, the corners of his lips upturning ever so slightly.
“I’d get there first.” His confident tone was masked with warmth, a tone you recognized all too well. It was the same tone he talked in when he talked about your future together. It was filled with love. You rolled your eyes, but you still let the smile rest on your lips. You pulled Bakugou down next to you, keeping your eyes locked onto his crimson ones.
“ I know you would.” You whispered before bringing your lips to meet his in a loving kiss. It was short-lived contact, but still sent a shiver up Bakugou’s spine. He never expected to fall in love, never once imagined he’d let himself be so vulnerable in front of another human, but there was something about you that broke him down. Every single wall he had made that he believed to be impenetrable, you demolished with a single kind and understanding smile. And while Bakugou never imagined himself falling in love, he had unequivocally and irrevocably, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He pulled you in close to his chest, letting you rest your head there as he let himself savour the gentle sounds of your breath. He ran his hands through your hair gently as he felt you speak up once more, the words escaping your mouth causing a surge of pride to rush through the blonde boy's body.
“you’re my hero, after all.”
#bakugou#katsuki bakugou#bakugou x reader#bakugou imagines#bakugou katsuki#bakugou x fem!reader#bnha imagines#bnha#mha imagines#mha#bakusquad imagines#bakusquad
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Brothers and a Broken Bone
An OM! GN! MC fanfiction (OM! Brothers & Now-dateables + Luke)
2.42k words
Genre: flangst probably
Trigger Warning: blood, broken bone, violence (probably) Self depreciation? Still, read at your own discretion.
A chaotic family. A fight broke out and then... "Snap!"
They were on the way to the Demon Lord's Castle. Being like their usual selves, seven demons of varying personalities is chaotic.
"I'll definitely kill you Mammon if you're not able to get my platinum Seraphim figurine back!"
"Stop fussin' around already! It's just a figurine—"
"Just a figurine?! That's the last limited edition platinum Seraphim figurine released during the final episode of Seraphim of the End! There are only 5 of it ever produced in the whole three realms!" ...extremely chaotic.
"Shut it, you're so so damn loud."
"Loud?! Then let me rip that useless ears off you!" Whilst just a few blocks away from the castle, the purple demon suddenly transformed and spring towards his scummy brother.
"Stop it already. You're making a scene—" Before Satan could finish his sentence, the book he's holding was hit by Mammon's stray hand and flew, knocking Beelzebub's burger off his hands.
"My... Burger..." Losing concentration he lost grip of Belphegor, who is on his back.
On his fall, Belphegor squash Asmodeus to the ground, who then broke a nail.
"My book..."
"My beautiful nails..."
"Mngh... the hell..."
A burger splattered on the floor. A dented book coated with mayo and ketchup. A broken nail. An interrupted sleep.
... Extremely chaotic indeed.
Simultaneously the demon brothers transformed, ready to join the brawl.
"Stop this, you fools!" A riot is the last thing Lucifer wants a few blocks away from Diavolo's abode. Yet, his words falls on deaf ears, causing a set of horns and wings to sprout from him.
And the eldest joins the battle.
Then there's MC, a mere human. "Hey! No fighting guys!!" ...with no one who want to listen to.
"Don't hurt each other!!" Still nothing.
They move closer and took a deep breath, but this time, they're eager to use a bit of force through their pacts. "CUT IT—Aww." yet before they could, they fail miserably. Knocked by whoever the brother is, MC lost their balance.
They twist to hopefully resist their fall. Still, MC's footing failed and instead fall face first.
Snap!
As if a twig cracks, Leviathan and Mammon's attention was drawn to the unsettling sound. And as if on cue— Lucifer, Beelzebub, Satan and Belphegor's eyes followed.
A few feet away from them sits MC, blood profusely dripping off their nose.
MC rose on their feet but in a second, "Ahh..." They glanced on their lower right and lift their arm, as if nothing is bleeding.
Following the human's line of vision, blood suddenly drained from everyone's face. Well, except for the human themself.
"AHHHH!!" A shriek from Mammon and Asmodeus.
"Y/N!?" A shocked yell from Lucifer, Beelzebub and Satan.
"..." And a choked silence from Leviathan and Belphegor.
"...It broke." at the end of their arm limply dangles their forearm from the elbows. MC just looked at it as if nothing's out of place. They then glance to the stiff brothers a few feet away from them. "So, y'all cool down a bit?"
The brothers are anything but cooled down. They are so terrified they couldn't even move on their s spot.
And as if to trigger the demon brothers alot more, they swish their arm a little bit, the dangling forearm swinging like pendulum.
The first one to return to his composure is Lucifer, pulling out a handkerchief to stop the bleeding of Y/N's nose.
Satan followed, removing his blue jacket and sling their right arm around their neck. "I can't find anything hard to support your arm so please make do with this for now... damn, that fucking hardbound book's useless..." He mumbled the last phrase gritting his teeth.
"... Let's head to the Demon Lord's Castle first." Lucifer may looked he is composed outside but inside, he is a total mess. Everytime he loosens the pressure of his hand on their nose, blood will come dripping off with no sign of clotting at all. Just a bit more of ant stimuli and he will certainly be panicking like his brothers.
Noticing it, MC took the handkerchief from Lucifer and hold it in place themself.
Beel on the other hand towers over them and carry them.
"Does it hurt? Am I the one who hit you?" A crying Mammon hovers over them, hesitant of touching a single strand of his human.
"O-Of course it hurts, you idiot! We just broke MC's arms!" Leviathan is also a crying mess, standing beside Mammon.
"Not really. It is throbbing but numb." They reeled their arm once more, alerting everyone.
"DON'T DO THAT!!" They all yelled in sync.
"Hahahahahaha!! Looked at that priceless faces. Are you in a choir?"
"Hey, no fooling around! You're injuries are serious!" Asmodeus snaps.
"What if you worsen it?! You want to lose your arm, huh?!" Belphegor added.
"Why would I listen to any of you?" MC raised an eyebrow.
"Stop being childish and unreasonable. We're just thinking about you."
"Ohoh~? Did I heard it right? Childish and unreasonable? Aren't you describing yourselves awhile ago before injuring me with your bickering?" Condescending laugh. They received an insulting laugh from a mere human, yet no one utter a single word for defense.
Amidst the chaos, three forms appears opposite to their destination. "Hey guys, aren't you going to the Demon Lord's Castle too? What are you doing in the middle of the road?" As Simeon, Luke and Solomon approached the frozen brothers, MC jump off Beel's grasp and went to them.
"MC, what's with that jacket?" Luke held the hem of their shirt with a concerned look.
"It's nothing, just broke my arm. Come on, let's go to Diavolo and leave that matured and reasonable bunch." MC is smiling but the three could hear the spite in their voice.
"Wait—You WHAT?!" The eyes of the three almost bulged out of their skulls in surprise.
"Don't worry, I can't feel it. Let's go before the numbness disappears."
Through Solomon's magic, they manage to stop the bleeding and hold the arm from swinging. The four arrived at the the Demon Lord's Castle safely, leaving the brothers behind.
"MC, what happened?" As soon as he sees their state, Diavolo react fast and guide them to the nearest sofa.
"It was an accident. Is it possible to fix this?" Barbatos entered the room from a door different from what they used. He is carrying with him a first aid. Their guess is either— he left the room as he saw them or, he already predicted this will happen and came prepared. Either way, he didn't questioned them and instead act calm and efficiently as ever. Though when MC look closely, they can see an ever subtle crease between his brows.
Shortly after Barbatos appeared, the seven brothers arrived to the room, silently stayed in the corner.
"Solomon, I believe you have knowledge of healing spells, don't you?" Barbatos asked, wrapping the injured arm carefully yet fast.
"Yes, but it will take a few days to completely heal a torn ligament."
"I also have some speeding-up spells under my sleeves. I think combining it will heal MC's arm by daybreak." After Barbatos patch them up, Luke approach MC, with Simeon a step behind him.
"Are you o–okay? Does it hurt?" Teary-eyed he hold their knee, looking into their eyes.
With their uninjured hand they caress Luke's cheek, wiping the tears off his eyes. "It doesn't hurt at all. I will be alright in no time. A sweet little angel is blessing me after all."
"That's right Luke. Solomon and Barbatos are also forming a spell to return MC's arm to normal."
"Now, listen everyone." Diavolo stood in the middle of the room, calling everyone's attention. "I believe MC and the brothers have something to discuss in private. While Barbatos and Solomon are constructing a spell in the next room, I hope Simeon and Luke to come with me to give them privacy."
"I bet they are the one who caused MC's injuries! I don't want to leave MC alone with them!"
"It'll be okay Luke. They will be careful and won't do it the second time. Am I right, guys?" Simeon spoke calmly to soothe Luke but a hint of distaste still managed to reach the ears of the brothers. "Now come, let's leave them for a while." A reassuring smile from MC to Luke, and a thankful nod from Lucifer, to Diavolo and Simeon are passed before the others left the room.
"MC..." Approaching them, the brothers line up in row a meter away from them, Lucifer speaking in the middle of the line. "We would like to apologize for our... foolishness. Won't you forgive us? We're ready to do anything to earn you again."
"... I'm not really angry with you guys. Just upset and disappointed, with myself. Well, maybe I'm also sad because of you."
"MC..."
"Quarrels are normal with siblings. But it hurts to see you guys on each other's neck, ready to kill each other any moment. I mean, we're family. I should be able to stop you guys from doing something you'll definitely regret later. Yet here I am, a mere weak human who couldn't even do anything about it."
"It was like you guys calling me a family is nothing but a title. That without the pact, I am but a useless design that would crumble at a slight flick. I'm so weak and useless it's so upsetting."
"You're not weak nor useless!!" Mammon yelled.
"Yes I am. Look at this arm that snapped like a flimsy twig." MC slightly raised the arm with broken bone, which is starting to throb in pain. Pain that will definitely cause their tears anytime soon. Yet despite the pain still not surfacing completely, a greater pain within their chest caused tears to fall anyways.
"Look at me MC," Lucifer knelt in front of them, wiping the tears away from their eyes, "You, by any means, are not a weak person."
"Staying by our side after everything that happened, shows that you're a strong person." Satan strokes their head, smiling.
"That's because I really love you all. Because I want to be with you."
"We love you too, MC." Asmodeus also knelt beside Lucifer, taking their hand to his lips for a kiss.
"You're the most precious person to us, MC. We don't want you sad so please smile."
"Y–You know you're the Henry of my life! I vow I won't cause you pain. No–I'll protect you from all the sufferings in this world the best that I can!" Standing behind Lucifer, Leviathan fist-pumped.
"You're the best cuddle partner for me. Get well soon so we can take a nap without any problems." hugged MC from behind, burrying his face on the crook of their neck.
Mammon had enough. "Let go, you pricks! No touching to my human! What if you worsen their injury, huh?!" He especially tried peeling the fifth and seventh born from their intimate touch with MC.
"You're just jealous you couldn't hug them."
"Or kiss their hand." Asmodeus planted another peck onto their palm.
"N–No, of c–course not!" Mammon blushed profusedly while he held his hands over Asmodeus to stop him the third time.
"Pfft—Hahahahahahaha!" Being able to lift the pain off themself and hearing the brothers cheer them up, MC laughed with light heart, also lifting the veil of sadness and guilt from the brothers' chests.
The room was filled with smiles and laugh, fortifying the bonds of the big family they have.
"I'm sorry for interrupting everyone,"
"GWAAAHHHH!!" Leviathan and Mammon screamed in surprise as Barbatos appeared in the room with neither warning nor sound. Not only the purple and whitehead was taken aback. Everyone went stiff for a second except MC who is facing the door directly and saw Barbatos enter.
"The spell is done in the other room. If you may allow me, I would like to take MC."
On the doorway stood Solomon, holding back his laughter from the scene, engraving the comical shocked faces of everyone to the back of his mind.
"You could've knocked before entering you know..." Satan sighed.
"Forgive me for my rudeness, but I would like to bring them as soon a possible." Barbatos slightly bowed with his usual formal smile.
"... I see. Please do." Lucifer held his temple for a second before rising on his feet and giving way to the butler. If he knew, the butler definitely did it intentionally as a payback.
"If you'll excuse me." Barbatos took MC's other hand and in a snap, sling it to his nape, carrying MC in his arms like a princess.
"Oi! Let go! I'll carry them myself!" Mammon yelled at Barbatos' action. "I'm afraid I can't let you do that."
"Yeah, you might drop MC from being too flustered." Asmodeus agreed, squealing at the thrilling sight before him.
"Beel, you carry MC." Belphegor nudged his twin. "Okay, I will."
"No, I don't think that's possible." Diavolo entered the room, interrupting any more attempt of the demon brothers of taking MC. Simeon is with him, while Luke made a beeline to his baking teacher and MC.
"Now that you settled everything with MC, we will now discuss your punishment for the incident."
"...What?" Belphegor and Satan raised an eyebrow from the Crown Prince's statement.
"Yes. Punishment. I entrusted MC in your care thinking you can protect them. Instead you caused them pain. I'll be lying if I said I'm not disappointed."
Although Lucifer thought of the possibility of punishment but to hear the word disappointed from Diavolo's lips, directed at him, his loyal prospect hits him hard.
"...Yes. I understand, Diavolo."
The stunned faces of the brothers, including Lucifer pulled the last string of composure within Solomon, freeing the dam of his loud laughter. Simeon also chuckled with him.
"Okay, let's start. Barbatos, Solomon, proceed to the other room to tend MC's injuries. Simeon will also help with the discussion."
"As you wish, Young Master." "Okay." Barbatos, Solomon and Simeon replied simultaneously.
"Will do. How about you, Luke?"
"I'll go with MC."
"W–Wait! Can't we just settle this without any punishment? MC did say they're fine already. Right, MC?" Mammon held Barbatos halfway to the exit.
"As much as I want that, I can't really oppose Diavolo's decision. And you did dig what you sow, so... Condolence, I guess?"
"You heard her." Diavolo added.
"B–But, BUT—"
"MAMMOOOON..."
"EEK—!"
And thus, the trial begins.
I dunno why I wrote this seriously 😂🤣 I just thought I want to write a comedy fanfic with all the characters but I just noticed my plot is a bit dark to make this a comedy at all. So I made it a fluffy angst instead sksksksk 😆😆✌️
Also posting A Smear of Blood soon after.
Masterlist
#obey me fanfic#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor#obey me diavolo#obey me barbatos#obey me solomon#obey me simeon#obey me luke#obey me#obey me shall we date#om!#obey me swd#obey me masters#obey me boys#meenah-chan~~
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Tf2 headcanons? Aw yeah! So let's say a new merc joins the team. They're a total asshole: Cocky, sarcastic, overconfident, refuse help. But both Spy and Scout see right through that, it's a defense mechanism. How do they go about making this person comfortable enough to not be an asshole?
*chanting* HURT COMFORT HURT COMFORT HURT COMFORT HURT COMFORT HURT COMFORT HURT COMF
Okay, jokes aside, this is one of my favorite tropes. Maybe I’m too naïve to believe that some people are just mean to be mean, or maybe it’s a sort of comfort to know that even the worst people can be understood, but either way, WOOOOOOOOO!
*****************
An Ass For An Ass
Headcanons
Scout:
To be honest, Scout’s threshold for asshole-ery is pretty high. Growing up with eight brothers will do that to you.
But when the new recruit came around, something immediately rubbed him the wrong way.
Recruit always stole his thunder with the crass jokes and over-the-top displays. Every battle turned into a competition, which messed with Scout’s system of fighting. He never had to focus much on his own team before, and now he had to worry about keeping his own reputation upheld while trying not to get stabbed, shot, or blown up.
Recruit also kept hitting on Miss Pauling - even after reminding them again and again that she was lesbian, and was not and never will be into dudes.
“Come on…you just haven’t been with a real man yet…”
“No, no, I’ve been with a lot of men. Real men. I just wasn’t into any of them. After a while, it was kind of obvious.”
But what really pissed a lot of people off was Recruit’s fighting style.
They were an absolute monster on the field - that’s why they were chosen - but every interaction was treated as some sort of survival scenario.
One would think that would be a good thing, but Recruit was ridiculous.
No matter what the situation was, he was fine, he was okay, he could take it, he could fix it.
He could be killed only inches away from a Medic because he would never yell for one. Sometimes Recruit would even show visible anger at being healed. It got to the point where Medic didn’t heal him at all, and just allowed him to die as to not waste time he could give too more grateful patients.
Missions were even worse.
He followed orders to a T, but Pauling had to beg him to leave a failed mission, or to leave without completely destroying the site.
Everyone just took it as Recruit showing off, or having something to prove as a rookie.
It was annoying, but ultimately harmless in most circumstances.
However, it all came to a head when Recruit tried disengage a sentry by himself and was severely injured.
Both Engineer and Medic, who had had to fix most of Recruit’s past and current recklessness, ripped him a new one, one chewing out after the other.
“What we’re you thinkin’, son?! One crossed wire and you woulda blown the whole base!”
“Zhe only reason you are allowed in my lab at all is because it’s in my contract. Personally, I vould have rather left nature to it…”
Since then, Recruit did exactly as he was told, and nothing else. And most of the team liked it that way.
But Scout recognized some warning signs immediately. Fatigue, near silence except for missions, self-isolation, snapping when people got too close…it all paved the way for a pretty nasty (and, for Scout, very familiar) result.
One night, Recruit was sitting on the balcony, and Scout came out with two bottles - a beer for Recruit and a root beer for himself.
(Scout can only drink on the weekends because one, unlike most, he can’t go to work hung over because his job requires a lot of movement, and two, he has no restraint and can’t stop once he starts.)
“What do you want?”
Scout shrugged. “Depends.”
“On what?!”
“What are ya willin’ to tell me?”
Recruit just looked at the beer and sneered.
“Can’t we just skip this?” Scout said. “Maybe get to the part where you tell me what kinda Sally Sob Story we’re dealin’ with here?”
Recruit looked away.
“Aw, c’mon, don’t tell me you don’t got one. ‘Cause you do. I can see it a mile away. So what happened? Pop leave? Somebody died? Lotta brothers and sisters? Ma had a few too many and smacked ya around?”
Recruit didn’t turn around, but Scout could tell he was crying. He had hit a sore spot. Hard.
“Hey, pal, listen…”
Scout trailed off, then slowly began again.
“…the only reason I know is ‘cause I’ve been through it, ‘kay? Outta everybody I knew, I only trusted me. And that was great when I did a good job, ‘cause I knew I put me there.”
Scout opened his bottle of root beer and took a long swig.
“But when I screwed somethin’ up, it’s like everybody I ever knew just let me down. The one thing I could count on was gone.”
Recruit looked at Scout with tears in his eyes.
“But ya can’t do everything by yourself,” Scout continued. “Believe me. I learned that the hard way.”
Scout laughed, but it was mostly to clear the air. He didn’t get serious very often.
Recruit hadn’t touched his beer, but was leaned over the balcony with his head in his hands.
Scout sighed and looked up at the stars.
“But here’s somethin’ that nobody told me - it gets easier, y’know that? You just gotta relax and cut yourself some slack.”
Recruit shifted uncomfortably. “But the Administrator said…”
“Yeah yeah yeah, I know what she said. Gave ya that whole speech about how bein’ part of the team means discipline and focus and whatever. It’s all bull crap. She don’t know the first thing about bein’ on the field. If she did, why’d she hire us?”
“Sh-she said my perseverance was an asset to the team.”
“Perseverance, my ass. You know what would be an asset to the team? Stayin’ alive for more than fifteen minutes!”
Recruit looked at his feet. He had blinked away his tears, but he still looked on the verge of falling apart.
Scout put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it a little.
“You’re a great fighter, Recruit. You’re one of the best…that’s why you’re here. You got nothin’ to prove to nobody. Not to me, not to the team, not to the Administrator…not even to yourself. You’ve made it, kid. You’ve made it.”
Scout slid his hand off Recruit and started to walk away.
“Hey.”
Scout turned to see Recruit in the process of opening his beer.
“Thanks.”
Scout smiled. “No problem, pal. Plenty more under Demo’s mattress.”
“No, I mean…for that. I needed that tonight.”
“Oh…yeah! Sure. Don’t worry about it.”
Scout went back inside and to his room - but not before checking the cameras on the balcony a few times. Just in case.
Over the next few months, Scout kept helping Recruit break some old bad habits.
Recruit learned to take criticism without getting angry, to leave tanked missions, and to take care of himself.
He still occasionally flirted with Miss Pauling, but it was now more of an inside joke than anything.
Recruit still isn’t perfect - he still cringes a little when he’s healed, and falls back into survival mode when times are stressful - but he is now a much happier, much healthier person.
Spy:
Spy’s asshole wasn’t a merc, per se.
They were more of an informant, usually giving out important facts about locations, missions, and a target’s history.
Sometimes they would even use the Administrator’s PA system to announce new rules and reminders.
This would be perfectly fine - after all, you get kind of tired of hearing the Administrator all the time - except for the fact that Informant was the most sarcastic, most nasally, most apathetic, most matter-of-fact person on earth.
Even outside of a work setting, which was rare because they stayed in their office most of the time, Informant would go out of their way to be as condescending as possible.
Especially to whoever they considered to be in the “less intelligent” category: Heavy, Pyro, Scout, Demo, and Soldier.
To all the “others,” he turned every briefing into a contest to see who knew more at any given time…which, of course, usually meant he won.
“Now, does anyone know where his address is? Come on, any takers? Yeah, I thought so.”
Unlike Recruit, which would only warrant a few grumbles here and there from the team, Informant was the subject of a lot of hissed complaints and terrible rants from even the calmest of members.
Informant was the only one who could get under Heavy’s skin - a personal pet peeve of his was being considered less intelligent or less of a human being because English wasn’t his first language, which Informant chose to remind him of constantly.
It began with a few simple jabs at his grammar or word structure, but once Informant figured out that Heavy wouldn’t hurt a fly outside of battle, the taunts grew more and more daring.
Heavy would usually ignore Informant, which would only exacerbate their need to be noticed. This led to some pretty nasty interactions - from spouting the statistics of Russia’s average intelligence to even saying Heavy was a disgrace to his country by being a literature major.
“How’s that Russian literature major treating you? You know - in America.”
Sniper and Medic had tried to set Informant straight, but Heavy refused to accept any help. This was something that was his to bear, and his alone. He knew that they both took their own helping of harassment.
But one day, Informant went a little to far.
He did the one thing you should never do: insult Heavy’s family.
“You mother and sisters can’t do anything more than wait for you. No wonder you’re the only source of income.”
Before he knew it, Informant was against a wall, struggling to breathe, blood running into his eyes.
Heavy walked away after the incident, and told Medic about it, but he refused to heal him. Informant had called Medic a Nazi on more than one occasion.
This, finally, is where Spy comes in.
Spy was walking by Informant’s office, when he heard a strange sound - barely suppressed hiccups and sobs.
Despite his aversion to displays of emotion, the promise of seeing one of his greatest enemies as their lowest was too amusing to resist.
He knocked lightly on the door, then slowly opened it - always the master of drama.
Informant was under their desk, bloodied and bruised, sobbing into their knees.
Spy entered noiselessly, sitting in Informant’s office chair and lighting a cigarette.
It was only when Spy made a dramatic exhale of the smoke that Informant looked up, tears streaking their face.
They stared at each other for a moment, and then Spy finally spoke.
“Oh, how the mighty fall. Flown too close to the sun, have we?”
Informant couldn’t do much more than snivel and retreat farther below the desk.
“Who did it?” Spy asked. “I want to give them my regards…and maybe a bottle of wine.”
“H-Heavy…”
“Oh? Well, if anyone can bring him to blows, it’s you.”
Spy put his feet on the desk and continued to blow smoke out of his nose, thinking.
“It’s strange,” he said. “Most offices have at least a few pictures of family. A trip to the beach, perhaps the zoo…?”
He took a quick glance around.
“No children. No army mates. No graduation photos or a large catch at a local lake. The only personal item you have is this…”
Spy picked up a Rubik’s Cube. The plastic still around it crinkled.
“Unused.”
Informant looked at the floor.
“I like to keep my personal and professional life separate.”
Spy pursed his lips and squinted.
“How noble of you. But I don’t think that’s the case. You know what I think, Informant?”
Spy took his feet of the desk and bent down, looking Informant in the eyes.
“I don’t think you have a life.”
Informant’s eyes went wide for a moment, then his face immediately crumpled. Bullseye.
Spy smirked and got up from the chair, starting to leave.
Informant’s sniffling turned into sobbing, and before Spy could put his hand on the doorknob, muffled wailing filled the office.
Spy closed his eyes and clenched his teeth. He was trying not to remember something. But the imagery was too strong.
He remembered hiding under a table, like Informant was. People screaming and cursing at each other in French. His knees all scarred and his nose runny from a cold that should have resolved weeks ago. Waltz music coming from next door, trying to drown out the fighting. Glass breaking. Biting his knuckles so he wouldn’t whimper or cry.
Spy’s hand closed into fist. He took a deep breath, and turned to face Informant again.
“But to be fair…”
He walked towards the desk, putting his hand in his suit pocket. He got on his knees and pulled out a pink handkerchief.
“…I don’t have one either.”
He offered the handkerchief to Informant, who put it to his face, still staring at Spy through red eyes.
The pair were silent for a moment, with Spy putting out his cigarette and lighting a new one while Informant cleaned themselves up.
“But the difference between you and I,” Spy said, his voice wavering a bit, “is that I am a Spy. If my information got into the wrong hands, it could be the end of me and my team.”
He tapped his cigarette on a nearby trash can, letting the ashes fall into it.
“But what are you hiding from?”
Informant took a shaky inhale, the handkerchief still covering his nose and mouth.
“W-what?”
“Why do you feel the need to be, as Scout puts it, a tier five jerkazoid?”
Informant sniffled. “I…I didn’t think I took it that far.”
“Took what that far?”
“I just…snrk…I thought that’s what I had to do to get them to take me seriously.”
Informant laughed, but their heart wasn’t in it.
“I’m five foot four with red hair and freckles. I look more like someone’s Andy doll than a contract killer. I thought maybe if I knew everything…I’d be worth it.”
They shrugged.
“At best, they’d be impressed. At worst, they would never get close enough to me to know the truth: the only reason why I’m here is because I can rattle off a few names and that I had good grades in school because I had nothing better to do.”
Spy’s chest ached. He didn’t know why, but it was a strange feeling to him.
“Mon ami…”
He cleared his throat.
“If half of the team is any indication, you don’t need to be Nikola Tesla to be hired. Hell, the fact you can read is an anomaly in itself. But there is something you must understand…”
Spy cleared his throat again. His voice had gotten quite unstable all of a sudden.
“Intelligence is measured in different ways. Scout could never read even the simplest of children’s books, but his physical intelligence - reflexes, spatial awareness, aim - is phenomenal. Medic would have to put my spine back together if I even attempted to do what he does on the field.”
Informant snickered at the joke, or perhaps the image it conjured.
“And me,” Spy continued. “I can speak almost any language, adjust to any social setting, charm anyone, fool anyone…kill anyone. Just like you, I can remember, and I use the information I absorb mostly to show how superior I am to all my lowly colleagues.”
Spy furrowed his brow and looked away.
“But I know less about myself than even my enemies. I have hidden it so deep within my mind that I can hardly remember…or perhaps would rather not remember…who I was before this mask of mine.”
Informant hesitated. “I…I’m sorry, Spy.”
Spy sneered and puffed a few smoke rings.
“I don’t want your sympathy. I want you to have some self-respect - and respect for my teammates. Because next time you are beaten within an inch of your life, you might catch me in a less generous mood.”
With that, Spy got up, reached into his suit pocket and presented a small MediKit, which he tossed to Informant.
“I’d suggest freshening up before going to any more briefings.”
Informant nodded, and set to work healing himself.
Spy started to leave, then stuck his head back in.
“And hang a few posters, would you? Your office looks like a prison cell.”
Finally, the Frenchman took his leave, adjusting his suit and nodding solemnly to the team members he happened to pass - or scowling at them, depending.
He glanced over the security feed, and once he was satisfied, made his way to his smoking room.
Spy closed the heavy oak door, poured himself a small glass of scotch, and sat down in his chair next to the fireplace.
He put a magazine on his knee and began to flip through the pages, but his gaze soon started to wander.
He closed the magazine, tossed it into the fire, leaned into his hand, and wept.
…So what became of Informant?
Well, after a reluctant heal from Medic and a few well-deserved apologies, Informant began to try and break the cycle of self-sabotage.
The process took a lot longer than Recruit’s did - especially since Informant’s transgressions were a lot more egregious - but, little by little, they began to heal.
A lot of the time, the other mercs would have to tell them to tone it down a bit, or to cut him off completely if necessary.
Informant still almost has a panic attack if he doesn’t have the right papers, and his office is still pretty bare, but he took Spy’s advice - a few AC/DC posters hang on the leftmost wall.
As for Spy, well…he needs to have a talk with Medic.
******************
I am so sorry…this is all so messy and weird. One is so much longer than the other, and I’m not even sure half the dialogue sounds right.
The two headcanons were just typed out at different times, the first where I had less motivation and the second when I had more motivation. This wasn’t on purpose, it just happened.
I hope you still like it, though!
#tf2#tf2 fandom#tf2 ask blog#tf2 headcanon#tf2 headcanons#tf2 spy#tf2 scout#scout tf2#spy tf2#tf2 mercs#headcanon requests#incorrect tf2 quotes#humor#funny post#funny content#just for laughs#funny#send asks#dank humor#ask blog
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Mob!Tom is a little mad at you for something n the reader is keep on saying sorry but he's just too hurt to let this go rn. Then reader tries to kiss him but he turns away but she begs him to kiss him n in the end he gives in and kisses her really hard n he's like you do something like that ever again I'll never forgive u n they're both in tears n then they kiss each other n cuddle for hours.
cute! also sfw! contains mob themes and brief references to violence.
— it’s mob monday !! —
“Tom, I’m sorry.”
Silence.
“Tom? Tom, c’mon. Look at me.”
There’s a frown on your face, and as you reach out to rest your hand on your boyfriend’s shoulder, a soft sigh slips past your lips. Tom’s blanking you - sitting on the edge of the bed, looking straight at the wall. He gives no indication that he’s listening to you - shows in no way that he feels your fingers as you press them to your shoulder. He is, simply, ignoring you.
“Seriously? The silent treatment?”
You’re frustrated now, tetchy and curt. Pushing back the irritation that simmers in your chest, you release a breath and kneel at the bottom of the bed, shifting your hands to his knees. The material of Tom’s expensive jeans feels nice beneath your fingertips, and for a few moments, you drag your touch over his thighs.
“Please, baby.” You look at him with as much strength as you can muster. “I’m sorry.”
It’s only when you reach up to touch his face that Tom snaps to action, one of his hands going to wrap around your wrist and keep your palm away from his cheek. His fingers are cold, but his grip is soft, and the pained sigh that slips past his lips makes your heart pang.
“Stop it,” Tom says. He looks at you, eyes cool, lips pulled into a straight line. “I don’t want to hear it.”
You grit your teeth. “I don’t understand why you’re making such a huge deal out of this,” you mutter. “I didn’t do anything that you haven’t done before.”
Tom’s eyes bulge, his eyebrows shooting up his forehead. “Are you being serious?” He drops your hand, standing from the bed. You move out of the way, sitting up on the edge of the mattress and watching as your boyfriend paces the carpet in front of the bed. It’s late - 11pm, the outside world shrouded in darkness. Tom’s in a bright white shirt, bloodstains marring the fabric over his right arm and chest. The stains match the blood on your dress. He’s breathing heavily, running a hand through his hair, Rolex glinting.
“Tom,” you try again. “You’re blowing this out of proportion-”
“Am I?” Tom pauses, turning to face you. He pulls his arms across his chest, looking at you with such an intensity in his gaze that it makes your guilt increase by tenfold. “You- you- went straight in there and tried to take out a fucking dealer, love. You almost got yourself killed.”
You wince. The evening… Well, the evening hadn’t exactly gone as planned. Your fault? No, but neither was it Tom’s.
You’d gone as his plus-one to a club, and things had been fine until one of Tom’s rivals had come out of nowhere and pulled a knife on him. Forgetting rule number one of dating a mobster - always wait for backup - you’d stalked right after them. You’d swung a very expensive bottle of champagne at the goon’s head, and then spent a terrifying five minutes with Tom as their backup had arrived, and he’d tried to keep you from falling victim to their attempts at retribution.
So maybe it’s fair that he’s angry, but you’d done it for him, out of love and concern.
“I was trying to protect you,” you say. You look down at your hands and pick at the golden bangle wrapped around your wrist. “I didn’t do it to annoy you.”
Tom sucks in a deep breath, his eyes closing as his jaw twitches. He’s fuming, you can see it. See it in his clenched fists and his deep breathing and his reluctance to look you in the eye. He’s holding it back, but you can see it, burning away, bright beneath the surface. He wants to yell or storm out, but he’s staying. You take that as a sign that he’s open to you.
“Tom.” You stand up from the bed, a little wobbly on your feet as you approach him, softly. He’s still as a statue as you put both of your palms on his shoulders, but you feel him relax a little bit when you touch him. Tom opens his eyes, and you meet those beautiful golden browns, a little softer, now. “I’m sorry, alright? It won’t happen again.” A small smile finds your lips as you shift a palm up to cup his cheek, his face cool to touch but soft and familiar.
“It can’t happen again,” he mutters, voice clipped. “You can’t be so reckless.”
“I know, I know.” You’re a little distracted by the curves of his mouth, and bite your lower lip as you look up at him, smirking softly. “Kiss and make up?”
Tom frowns, his eyebrows pulling together. “No.”
“No?” Hurt seeps into your tone, and you step a little closer, puckering your lips. “Don’t you want to kiss me?” You have both of your hands on his face now, and slip one of them back to rest in his curls. Tom smells of faded cologne.
“Y/N.” Tom’s tone is still tight, and he sighs again. “We’re not finished talking about this, I’m not- We’re not just going to sweep it under the rug, you almost died-”
“But I didn’t.” You lick your lips, looking at him with wide eyes. “C’mon. Kiss me.” You need it. You need the reassurance that you can get through this, that he isn’t really mad, just upset. You feel as though you’re floating in the clouds, your mind left back in the club, caught up in the exhilarated fight. “Tom, Tom, Tom-”
Taking a shot at it, you try to dive in to kiss him, but Tom side-steps, ducking away out of your grasp as he weaves around you, groaning.
“It’s not that easy!” He says. Tom walks over to the dresser, unclasping his watch and throwing it onto the wooden desk with a clatter. He turns to look at you, fire in his eyes. “We can’t just kiss and make up, love. This is… This is more than just an argument.” Next to go are his cufflinks, shiny and bright as he presses them into the jewellery dish. “This is serious.”
Tears prick at your eyes, and you reach up to massage your temples. You don’t know what else to do. It’s been an hour since you got back from the club, an hour of trying to break him down from every angle. You’re at the end of your tether.
“Please,” you ask, voice coming out a lot weaker than you’d intended. Your tone cracks and Tom’s head snaps back up in your direction. “Kiss me.”
There’s a pause. The air between you crackles, and you find yourself rubbing at your eyes, trying to push down the nervous tears that threaten to spill down your cheeks. You can’t bear to think about what you’ll do if Tom continues to be so cold and detached, feel horrible even thinking about it. Your heart shakes in your chest.
Tom walks to you, finally, pushing your hands from your face and replacing them with his own. Two warm palms cup your cheeks, and he kisses you - hard.
It’s deep, passionate. Salty tears mixing with your mouths, a force behind his kiss so pronounced that it pushes you back a few steps. Your top teeth knock together and you whimper, grabbing onto the back of his head and anchoring yourself in his loose chestnut curls. Your fingers shake, but he continues to keep his lips on yours, his thumbs padding over your face.
Tom pushes his forehead to yours when he breaks the kiss, staring at you with deep, concerned eyes.
“I love you so much that it terrifies me, Y/N,” he murmurs. He’s speaking so calmly, so deeply, like his words are some kind of sanctified secret. “If anything ever happened to you, I don’t know what I’d do.”
Your nose presses to his as you nod against his head. “I’m sorry,” you say again. He’s holding your cheeks so tightly that they ache. “I didn’t want to mess things up, I panicked. I didn’t want you to get hurt.”
Tom hums. “I know, I know, darling.” One of his hands goes down to your waist, and he pulls you in closer, winding his touch around your back. “I know.”
You bury your head in his neck, exhaling a deep breath as Tom strokes over your back. For a few moments he holds you, but then he walks you back towards the bed. You trust him well enough to let him manoeuvre you - even go so far as to let him gently push you down onto the bed and lie opposite you, pulling you in close. It’s a tight hug, a hug with your face pressed into his chest, his arms wrapped around you, and it’s quiet. So quiet you can feel his heartbeat against your ear.
“Never scare me like that again,” he mumbles, spacing the words with kisses to the top of your head. “I will never forgive you if you get yourself hurt for me.”
You peer up, tilting your head until you’re looking at him straight on. Tom’s hair lies messily across his forehead, but his eyes are cooler now, softer. They grow warmer too when you lean in and kiss him again, the touch gentler than before.
“Okay,” you agree. “I won’t be so reckless again. Promise.” You shuffle in a little closer. “But I’m always going to fight for you, Tom. I will never, ever, sit by if you’re in danger.” When he opens his mouth to argue, you cut him off. “No, don’t you dare tell me that I’m wrong for that.” You raise a stern eyebrow. “You can’t lay there and tell me to sit by when you’re in danger because both of us know you’d set the world on fire if anything so much as grazed me.” You run your fingers through his hair. “I love you just as much as you love me, and I will never let you get hurt.”
Tom’s quiet for a moment, but then his mouth sags into a smile. He sighs, looking at you through tired, loving eyes.
“I love you,” he says, “for all your stubbornness and persistence.”
You chuckle, leaning in to kiss him gently. “You wouldn’t have it any other way,” you tease.
“No.” Tom kisses your nose, eyes sparkling. “I wouldn’t.”
#tom holland x reader#tom holland fluff#tom holland x y/n#myblurbs#tomblurbs#mob!tomfic#mob!tomblurbs#tom.sfw#ethereal-beauty-p
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Hello! If you're still taking requests for the kiss prompts, can I request 14 for Kid please? Maybe after a tough fight with some other pirates, Kid can't find his crush and fears the worst, then is so relieved when they're fine that he just can't stop himself from kissing them desperately? (Also, do you write for all One Piece characters?)
Thank you so much for requesting! Kid is one of my favorites and I have such a soft spot for him. I’m not caught up in One Piece but I’m willing to try writing for anyone and if for whatever reason I can’t I’ll always let you know that way you don’t wait around and can ask somebody else to answer your request. Hope you enjoy!
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This morning on the Victoria Punk started out as any other typical morning. With you underneath the captain. Soft and beautiful moans contrast with harsh grunts in the captain’s quarters. Every crewmember knows better than to come knocking on Kid’s door so when Heat knocked and called out “Boss,” Kid continued thrusting and ignored him. Again, Heat knocked louder with urgency, and Kid not having it shouted, “I’m fucking busy.”
The door slammed opened with a loud crack by an angry Killer and you let out a yelp in surprise. Kid immediately covered your body with his, shielding you from eyes of the masked man. “Couldn’t you guys wait” you shout in anger. If Kid didn’t have to worry about exposing your body, he’d probably throw them overboard and leave the for the sea kings.
“There’s a ship tailing us. They’ll soon catch up to us, so put your damn clothes on and be ready to fight.” With that Killer slammed the door shut and left. Kid buries his face in your shoulder before huffing out in anger. Running your hand through his unruly red hair giving it a little tug “You heard him, we better get dressed before he comes back.”
Kid answers with a growl and gives you a quick kiss, biting your lip and pulls out. He eyes you over once more and gives you a devilish smile. “Stay in bed and don’t touch yourself.” Covering yourself up with a bed sheet, you enjoy the view of your captain struggling to get dressed into his pants, no doubt from his raging hard on. He hears your muffled giggle that you try to cover with your hand and glares at you. He flips you off and heads for the door. “Don’t keep me waiting long!” He stops and turns around with that smug smirk of his, “Wouldn’t dream of it doll.”
Fluffing one of the many pillows on the bed to get comfortable, you can hear loud yelling and swords clashing. It feels kind of wrong to be lying in bed naked while the rest of the crew is fighting on the ship. You hear footsteps just outside the door and expect Killer to yell at you to come join the fight, but a stranger storms inside the cabin. He clearly sees you caught off guard and races towards you with a sword. However, he wasn’t expecting you to pull out a gun from under your pillow. Quickly you take aim and pulled the trigger instantly putting an end to his life. His momentum causes him to fall onto the bed drenching the sheet and blankets in blood. Gross. Kicking the body off the bed and onto the floor with a thump, you deem the room unsafe and decide it’s best to get changed and head out onto the upper deck to lend a hand.
Kid heard the gunshot come from the direction of his cabin and his blood runs cold. Something happened and he couldn’t see his cabin from his position. The enemy pirates took notice of his distracted state and surrounded him, but Killer was quick to jump in and intervene before they could make an attack. “She’s fine” knowing what he must be thinking. “As soon as we clear these guys off the ship you can go find her.”
Wanting to slaughter the enemy pirates, Kid summons all the surrounding metal to form a giant arm and swings it. Most die from the impact and those that did not got thrown into the ocean. He repels the remaining metal from his arm into their ship, causing it to slowly sink into the depths of the sea. A part of him feels like they got off to easy but wastes no more time heading to his quarters.
Kid doesn’t bother opening the door and smashes it to pieces. His eyes searching for you, but he doesn’t see you. That’s when he spots all the blood. “…no, … no, no” His heart beating rapidly while he tugs at the fallen strands of his hair. His brain tells him it’s not true, that he’s overthinking but he can’t deny what’s in front of him. There’s no body, but it was evident there was one laying in the bed from the pooled blood on the bedding. Right where he told you to stay.
He’s trying his best not to panic but it feels as if his heart is going to leap out of his chest any second now. Refusing to believe anything until he actually sees your body, he calls out your name and it comes out hoarse and quiet and not at all like his normal voice. How could you be gone? Where was your body? Kid tugs at his hair hard as his eyes brim with tears. He’s dreamt horrible nightmares of you meeting a cruel end. You were just in his arms this morning. You can’t be gone but he can’t stop looking at the blood that covers his bed.
The wooden floor creaks behind him but he doesn’t budge. He doesn’t have the means to turn and yell at whoever is there watching him live his greatest fear. Emotions be damned. A gentle hand was placed over his and slowly pulled his hand away from his hair.
“Kid, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”
Whipping his head around at your voice, Kid immediately grabs you roughly and squeezes a little too hard with his mechanical hand and abruptly smashes his lips on yours. You stagger back not expecting him to suddenly kiss you with such force, and he’s quick pulls you flushed against himself. Both of his hands running over your body while he continues to kiss you feverishly. You kiss him back of course but you know something is wrong. He looked so defeated when you walked inside and when he turned around you swore you caught a glimpse of tears in his eyes.
You know you need to figure out what happened, so you brace your hands on his chest and give him a light push. He pulls his lips away slowly and takes in a shaky breath before turning his face away from your sight. “Talk to me please” you coax, rubbing his arm. Clearing his throat and still not letting you look at his face “I... I thought that” he stops, not able to bring himself to say it. Kid wipes at his face and starts again. “I heard a shot. Then I saw that” pointing over to the mess on the bed, “and didn’t see you.”
Realization hit like a stab to the gut of what the scene looked like to him. “Oh, Kid I’m so sorry. I didn’t think about you finding that.” Cupping his face, wiping away a stay tear and giving him a tender kiss, you explain what happened and how you thought it’d be best to leave the room to go help fight. He gives you a quick look over just to make sure you’re not harmed and picks you up by your waist. You wrap your legs around his middle while he just holds you, tucking his face in your neck.
“There’s still the body on the other side of the bed that we need to get rid of.”
#eustass kid#Eustass Kidd#eustasscaptainkid#eustass kid x reader#kidd x reader#one piece#one piece kid#one piece x reader#kid one piece#one piece writing#one piece prompt#one piece imagine#eustass kid imagine#The kid pirates#kid pirates#kid pirates x reader
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The Missing Piece
Fred Weasley x Reader
George Weasley x Reader(Platonic)
All I Wanna Do Continuation
Warnings: Swearing. Angsty.
A/N: I know this was only meant to be a two part series...but I'm hopeless. So I present to you; Part II of (?)
It had been a couple days since y/n ran into George in Diagon Alley, revealing the hardest of truths to her long time friend. That being of her secret child to one Fred Weasley, conceived only the day before his death. The one whom she kept secret from her whole old life in London, after running from it. Marcos was the Weasley no one knew existed.
It had been more than difficult when George discovered the truth, seeing a young Fred with peircing y/e/c eyes barrell towards the two adults during a casual conversation between old friends. It'd hurt George more than he thought it were possible to hurt, no injuries sting ever coming close to the one he felt that day. However, after a night spent bonding with his newly discovered nephew and multiple nights of y/n explaining everything to him. From the night before the battle; which involved a little too much information in Georges opinion, to the day they accidentally crossed paths, he'd found a way to forgive her.
He'd been so angry in the beginning but now that they'd spoke and he saw her side none of that mattered. He couldn't stay mad. Not really.
It turns out though that y/n and Marcos had been staying in a small Muggle Inn as y/n searched for a place to relocate whilst Marcos reddied to begin his first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Something which George refused to stand for, and so that's how for the past 4 days the two had been living happily above the store of Weasleys Wizard Wheezes, number 93 Diagon Alley.
George hadn't been happier in so long, to have someone else living within the flat with him. To have someone to come home to. A family no less. Y/n felt the same way. But that didn't mean the dread of letting the rest of the Weasley family in on her dirty little secret were any less prominent in her life. Even George had to admit he was nervous as to how they'd react.
Of course since Marcos had learned of the additional family members, he were yet to meet, he'd been pestering the pair as to when he'd finally get to see them. So, often y/n and George found themselves up late planning the right way to go about it.
They'd decided on a meal at the Burrow with the entire clan present. No exceptions - meaning Dragon Boy himself, as well as the Workaholic. They'd worked out all the kinks through countless Owls flown tirelessly back and forth and it was settled.
Tomorrow at 5pm, the three (two as the family expected) were to arrive via the Floo network, in accordance with the fact Marcos had never travelled by Floo before and was eager to experience it. Though if you asked Mr and Mrs Weasley the reasoning, they'd say the pair simply preferred that way.
At 4:52pm, the day of, Marcos could be found waiting eagerly and very impatient by the fireplace of the Twins flat. "Come ooooon, Mum!" He whined staring to his uncle and mother fussing over whatever he-knows-not, whispering seriously to one another by the kitchen counter. "In a moment, bud." George answered, receiving a huff in response.
George had his hands placed firmly on y/ns arms to steady her as he spoke sternly, eyes fixed directly onto hers. "Everything is going to be okay. I'll be with you the whole time. They're going to love him." "It's not him I'm worried about." Y/n croaked, voice thickly laced with emotion, "I know this is what's right and he'll fit in perfectly, that they'll love him unconditionally. But what of me George, I kept him from all of you. How could they ever look at me again. Let me in that house again. I know it sounds selfish but I'm not worried for him at all. Because it's what's right. But just because it's the right thing to do doesn't mean it makes this whole mess any easier. There wouldn't even be a mess if it weren't for me." Y/ns head dropped, picking at her nails in attempt to distract herself from the burning that set in behind her eyes and in her throat.
"Hey." Lifting a delicate finger to the underside of her chin, George pulled y/n's attention back to him, "You did what you thought was best for you at the time. What you did wasn't easy and I understand it now, just like they will. Once you explain and they meet him...there's no way they can stand against you. Okay? It's going to be okay." The whites of y/n's eyes burned red as she held back the tears which were ready to spill. All it took was a nudge, in the form of a tight comforting George Weasley style hug, to knock them over the edge.
"Can't you hug when we get there?" Marcos groaned, rolling his eyes in frustration this causing his Uncle chuckle. Y/n pulled back and looked to the clock on the wall, 4:59pm. Wiping the few stray tears still running down her cheeks she stepped toward her son. "Sorry sweety." She smiled sadly, fixing his hair. "Why are you crying?" her son asked simply. "It's just...it's just been a very long time since I've seen any of these people. It's got me a tad emotional. Don't worry, we can go now." "ALRIGHT!" The boy yelled excitedly, jumping into the large fireplace. George placed a hand to y/ns back, guiding her in next to Marcos as he grabbed a handful of powder and stood to the boys other side.
"Everyone ready?" George spoke with a wide-eyed, unnerved expression to y/n, "ready!" Marcos bounced on the balls of his feet excitedly while his mother, unknownst to him, offered back a grimace and shrug. "Yeah that seems about right" George spoke more to himself. Looking back out over his living room tight-lipped he grasped the boys shoulder, "The Burrow." He dropped the glittering dust in a swift motion and the three were quickly engulfed in vivid green flame. Here goes nothing.
This dinner would be the first time everyone had been together in years. Since the war if you were to include y/n in the family head count, which Molly did. So as you can imagine she had been fussing over every nanodetail to ensure the whole night went perfectly.
"Molly dear, you must try to relax. You've out done yourself, everything looks splendid and they'll love it." Arthur assured his wife, with a light kiss to her cheek. "I just haven't seen her in so long, not since...well-"
Y/n and Molly had shared such a close bond as she grew up alongside the Twins. The sort of connection Mothers dream of having with their daughters. Y/n came to her about absolutely everything; classes, grades, bullies, boys. There was nothing the two couldn't talk about. So when y/n disappeared after the War, well to Molly it were as if she'd lost another part of her family: the pain she felt neared that of losing another child. That day Molly Weasley very well lost a piece of herself.
It was no wonder her emotions were currently running ragged at the thought of finally seeing her again.
"I have so missed her." "As I'm sure she has you but that is no need to overwork yourself dear, come sit in the lounge." Arthur directed his Wife back from the kitchen to where the rest of their family were gathered.
"Jeez mum, wish you loved us that much." Charlie joked over his mother's flustered form. "It's just y/n" Ron groaned. "The house looks lovely, Molly. But Arthur is right. You must relax." Fluer spoke from her place beside Bill. Though she appreciated the sentiment, their words did little to soothe her excitement and nervousness over tonight. "I know, I'm sorry everyone I'm just so excited to have her back. It's been so long after all." Arthur had his arm placed over her shoulders, stoking her arm contently as she stared to the clock on the wall. 4:52pm.
The group fell into comfortable conversation as they awaited the final two guests, all far more excited to see y/n than they'd care to admit aloud. This would be the first time any of them had seen her in over a decade.
A loud crash and a flash of green from the kitchen alerted the family huddled within the lounge just as the clock struck 5:00pm.
"Oh! They're here!" Molly spoke excitedly. George was the first to step out of the fireplace, ruffling his hair to rid the ash which coated it's ends: appearing like smoke from a flame as it hung from the ginger locks. The family moved quickly from the room, essentially jumping from their seats, to come greet them, however they were suddenly halted.
"Before you all swarm us!" George declared with palms raised towards the group, "there's a little uh-...announcement to be shared first. Or rather an introduction. You see we've brought someone with us." He looked back over his shoulder to y/n who was staring up at him with scared eyes as she trembled slightly in fear of what was to come. She glanced back to her son, hidden by the corner of the large stone wall of the fireplace before looking back up to George as if to say 'it's now or never'. "Just...try to have an open mind." His eyes were pleading for his family to understand even if they hadn't the foggiest what was going on. All their faces contorted as they looked between one another in confused anticipation.
George lowered his hands with a nod satisfied no one was going to tackle them in a crushing embrace or otherwise hectic greeting typical to that of the Wealsey family. Turning to the side so he no longer stood infront of y/n and the wall of the fireplace he encouraged his friend to continue. Y/ns eyes barely left George, aside from a quick nervous flick back over the gathered audience.
Turning back determinedly she reached her arms out for Marcos to hold, helping support him as he stepped down from the slightly elevated floor. There's a kind smile on his face as he moves toward the sitting room where the family is waiting. George places an arm on the back of Marcos nudging him forward slightly, with a nod to y/n, who is staring teary-eyed at him, breath hitching as she starts to panic. "Everyone..." he turns back to his family, "this is y/ns Son, Marcos." "Hello" he says simply with a warm smile.
Everyone looks like they've seen a ghost. Staring silently with mouths agape.
Though covered head to toe in soot his firey red hair sticks out like a Dragon in a flower patch. The Weasley hair. Not just that, it's his face. His entire body. His voice. It's everything but his eyes.
Marcos is quickly becoming uncomfortable as everyone just stares at him, this wasn't what he'd expected. He looks back over his shoulder to his mother. She steps forward and grabs his hand, placing her other on his shoulder, looking to George for strength as she speaks quietly, "I know I have a lot of explaining to do" she swallows hard looking back to the pale faced Weasleys, "but this has been too long coming and it couldn't wait any longer. If George's reaction is anything to go by I know you all have quite a few words to say to me. And I'll hear them all. I deserve it for what I've done."
Marcos looks up to his mother confused, what had she done? For all he knew they hadn't met simply because they lived in different countries. That's no reason why she'd be in trouble is it? He looks back around the room then to George who smiles warmly to him in reassurance. "Sorry isn't enough I know, but I am. Truly. It's time though, Marcos needs you. He needs his family."
No one says anything. Though all silent there's a mixture of strained emotions held within the room. Many teary eyes. Some white knuckles and poorly hidden anger. But mostly it's shock.
Bill's looking around his family, worried, someone needs to say something. They can't just stand there any longer gawping. Dropping Fluers hold he walks forward, heads turn at his sudden movement. He squats infront of Marcos smiling as he shakes his nephews hand with both of his "It's nice to meet you Marcos. I'm Bill," he turns slightly on the spot to point towards his partner, "that's Fluer, my wife." She offers a small smile and wave, then Bill turns back to face him "I'm the eldest of your uncles." He states proudly, "And the coolest" he winks speaking the final line in a whisper. Marcos smiles, whispering back "But Uncle George said that he's the coolest" "yeah don't listen to him, or any of the others - there'll be a lot of that going around." Bill chuckles.
Marcos starts to relax at his uncles attempt in conversation. Y/n and George smile sweetly to one another but with nerves still evident in their expressions. "How did you get your scars?" Marcos asks abruptly. "Marc-" y/n warns, "ah, now THAT is a pretty awesome story" Bill grabs both his hands in his once more, bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet etching ever closer to his nephew as he readies to tell the story, "you see there was this fight, at Hogwarts, before the War where I was up against this Werewolf-"
"Alright, alright, Bill, don't hog the boy with your boring old Greyback story." Another redhead interrupted, walking forward from the group to push his brother to the side, Marcs face contorted in confusion, brows furrowing and head falling to the side. Did he just say his story, with a werewolf, was boring!?
"I'm Charlie" the man knelt before the boy smiling widely "and I am by far cooler than these ones don't listen to them." "How are you cooler?" Marc asked "I work with Dragons." He widened his eyes in mock surprise before smiling again. "REALLY!? DRAGONS!?" Marc lit up like a Christmas tree. Charlie turned his head over his shoulder with a smug shit-eating grin on his face as he taunted his siblings for the reaction he'd elicited from such a simple statement. "Yep. Dragons." "Do you have one!? Can I see it!? Are they really as dangerous as everyone says?" Marc was firing questions at him quicker than his breath could carry, his enthusiasm endearing and contagious as the rest of the family made their way to make their introductions.
"Move it Charlie" stated a firey haired young girl "Merlins bollock!" "Marcos, Language!" Y/n warned but her son paid no mind to the woman too engrossed in the individual before him. "I know you! You play for the Hollyhead Harpies!" It was Ginnys turn to grin smugly to her brothers as they were pushed to the side. "It's lovely to meet you Marcos." She hugged him warmly. George and y/n stepped back a couple paces to allow the family more room for introductions.
Y/n was quietly crying as George had his arm placed securely around her back listening along to the excited conversation of everyone present, her son in particular, each time he was met with a new face. Until it seemed to reach a peak.
"YOU'RE HARRY POTTER!" "There it is." George whispered amusedly in y/ns ear. "The one and only." Harry smiled, "I must say, you look so much like your father. Except the eyes of course you've got-" "-my mothers eyes. Yes. So people keep telling me." Marc nodded with thin lips, this being maybe the hundredth time he'd been told so. "Sorry, trust me, I know that line gets a bit old." Harry smiled to himself.
Y/n was wrapped up in the various pieces of conversation that met her ears as more introductions were made. She always felt something had been missing from her life, she assumed it were simply Fred. She was wrong. This is what she was missing. They were missing from her.
They were her missing piece.
"Hello, my boy, I'm Arthur - your grandfather it'd appear" he stated warmly very much liking the sound of that. "What do you do?" His grandson asked curiously. "I work with the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts in the Ministry. Tell me..." Arthur began in a firm murmur, "do you know how exactly a 'microwave' works? I've been told it is a box which produces heat a-" "Daaaad not now!" Ron had grumbled. "I'm Ron. I'm an Auror with the Ministry" "like Mr Potter?" "Exactly." "Wicked".
"Greetings, Marcos. I'm Percy" came the next, posh, voice. "Hello, what do you do?" "I work within the Ministry-" Percy began before being interrupted by a sarcastic voice, "yeah don't worry about that one, Mate. Percy is in no running for the favourite uncle." George had spoke loudly causing a wave of chuckles to issue through the room.
Everyone was so warm and inviting and excited, it made y/ns heart swell. Hand placed to her chest as the other muffled her quiet gasps as joyful tears fell from her eyes. It was perfect, until she noticed something.
Where was Molly? Her eyes scanned the room, she was here not a moment ago where had she...
George noticed her shifting gaze and tensed posture. "Something the matter?" He whispered before his own eyes scanned the crowd of people. She needn't say a word as realisation struck swiftly, causing him to straighten himself. Dread flooded his body. "Don't fret, love" he whispered once again, gently rubbing her shoulder blades before taking a step towards Charlie - the closest member of his family - tugging on his shirt sleeve. Charlie leaned himself back towards his brother, eyes not leaving Marcos, nor the smile leaving his face. "Where's mum?" George asked. Charlie shrugged in response with a slight shake of his head "no idea".
Worry set in across Georges face, caught by Ginny across the room, whose head fell to the side as she silently asked the question, mouthing a simple "what?" To this George mouthed back "Mum?"
Her gaze quickly fixed to the room, brows furrowing as she noticed her mother's absence. Ginny looked back to George, shrugging she mouthed "up stairs?" George grimaced. It wasn't like his Mother simply to disappear. He certainly hadn't expected such a reaction. Given the circumstances, she should have been the first greeting him. With a suffocating hug and some offer of food.
"One sec" Ginny mouthed, holding up a finger while she quietly ascended the Burrows staircase in search of Molly.
George placed a firm hold around y/n again as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. Ginny returned a few minutes later, arms wide with a shake of her head to let him know her search came up empty. George nodded a thank you, turning his head over his shoulder toward the kitchen. Empty. But the door...the door wasn't latched.
With a final squeeze to y/ns shoulder and a light comforting kiss to the top of her hair line he left her side for the first time since they'd arrived.
Y/ns arms wrapped around her body feeling far too vulnerable in the moment without George by her side. But she knew he had to be the one to find her.
Charlie's attention had been turned to the pair as he noticed Ginnys shrug in their direction. Looking just in time to see George walk towards the door as y/n tensed, insecurities and anxiety setting in.
He was unsure how to react. On the one hand he was ecstatic to discover he had a Nephew, one which oozed confidence and joy. One exactly like the Brother he'd lost. He fit like a puzzle piece into their lives, filling a hole they thought would never be filled. Though the cracks were still there, and he could never truly replace Fred - not that they'd want or expect him to, Marcos was the missing piece they needed in their lives. More than any of them probably realised.
On the other hand, however, Charlie was angry. Worse than angry. He was full-fledged fucking furious. Not an emotion usually acquainted with Charlie Weasley, the most carefree and open minded Weasley in the clan. To think someone he considered a friend, no. family. For years could just up and disappear from their lives, hiding this boy from them, this part of their family from them for more than a decade...it was a thought that made him sick. Feeling his throat close over and stomach turn at the disgusting lie he'd been unknowingly living. Talk about hard pills to swallow. Could he look past this?
Staring at the girl infront of him he did what he's always done. He began to reason. As painful as this is he knows there's two sides to every story and lashing out in anger is not going to solve anything. So he looks at it from her perspective; she'd just lost the man she loved. Perhaps she didn't know at the time she was pregnant? After that she ran, he remembered the last time he saw her. She'd broke down saying she can't stay in England any more, he'd thought it was just the emotions talking but she was gone days later, once everyone who'd died were buried. So she ran, and found out she was pregnant. She was alone and grieving and terrified. Still he couldn't see why she didn't think she could come to them. That was beyond even his reasoning, he assumed she'd explain all of this in due time. Until then what she really needed was for them to be there for her.
So, swallowing all those festering venomous thoughts he stepped toward her. Placing a tentative hand to her shoulder with a brief half smile. She looked to him defeated, his name falling from her lips in a sigh the beginning of an apology followed as she trembled before him. He silenced her with a shake of his head, wrapping her within his arms in a hug to let her know everything would be okay. "We're here for you" he whispered simply.
As George stepped out of the house in search of his Mother, eyes squinting as they adjusted to the bright unfiltered sunlight beating down overhead, he scanned the hills and the veggie patch - where she wasn't. Walking slowly he headed for the back garden - where she was.
Sitting with her back to him on their concret garden bench, her posture was stiffly straight but her head hung low. The light sniffle of her nose told him everything he needed to know about her current emotional state. He had been fully prepared to find her seething with anger, afterall she had never been afraid to cry infront of the family before but anger was something she rarely liked to broadcast. Unless of course a scolding was in order for her children's bad behaviour. But here she was crying.
He placed a gentle hand to her shoulder unable to think of the words to make his presence known. She jumped at the touch before placing a hand atop his own. "Mum?" He asked hesitantly, she didn't speak, only wiped the fresh tears which had fallen from her eyes with the corner of her appron. George moved to sit next to her, hand not leaving her shoulder. He patiently waited for her to speak knowing it best not to force any conversation.
His eyes travelled over her face; eyes puffy and red, lip trembling slightly. Then down to her hands which both now played tensely with her frayed appron ending. He always hated to see his mother so upset, usually he had a joke to crack making her smile but since Fred he had trouble 'picking up the slack', as it were. Never able to break an awkward silence the way Fred had. He needed that first line from another to prompt any sort of sarcastic or witty remark. Hate to admit it but he were a tad envious of his twin in that respect.
After several long minutes Molly spoke. "Oh, George..." she sobbed defeatedly. His attention was immediately back on her face, waiting for her next strangled set of words. "He-he...he's..." "he's not mine." George nudged playfully in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere but it comes out a tad sad in his opinion.
"He's so much like him. Exactly like him if not for the..." "eyes." George spoke, smiling fondly at the thought, "he has his mother's eyes." Molly faced him finally, "Why'd you leave?" He questioned. Gingerly running a hand through the hair above her sons scar she replied sadly "It was just too hard." And more tears fell.
"It's hard for all of us Mum, I know it's a lot and this would be the last thing you'd ever expect to come from the fireplace but it's what came. And through all the bad and confusing you need to see the good. You have a Grandchild. Your first. What you've always wanted." "But George, it's not-he..." "he looks exactly like Fred, sounds exactly like Fred and acts exactly like Fred. But he's not, I know. He's not Fred. But he's a piece of him. More than what we had." Molly was shaking with tears now as George spoke with her. A similar burning taking root behind his eyes, but he had to hold strong. The family needed that right now. "I know it's hard, believe me when I found out I-well...let's just say some bystanders were scared they were about to witness a murder" he chuckled. "I'd never been so angry. But y/n explained everything. She talked me through it and she'll do that with you. With everyone. You just have to give her the chance."
Molly scoffed slightly as she let out a long breath. Looking up to her son her heart swelled to think she was able to raise such a strong, passionate and caring young man. She'd never been prouder of him. Seeing how, through everything; the war, losing Fred, finding out the truth about Marcos. How he managed to stay that compassionate and loving young man she always knew...it was beyond her how he could do that.
She'd lost so much during the wars. In the first she lost her brothers, and countless friends, then she lost a son to the second. When had she lost herself along the way? It was then she knew she needed to be the mother he deserved. That they all deserved, stronger than she had been before. She had to be with her family now. The family which just grew by a member. "What do you say, Ma, Ready to meet your Grandson? Cause you know I've been telling him all about how his Grandmother is the world's best cook. Don't know how much longer he's going to be able to wait for one of your homemade apple pies I've been telling him so much about."
Molly began to smile through her light tears before her face dropped completely. "Oh no!" She'd near shouted placing hands to her mouth, jumping from her place on the bench and startling George in the process. "I didn't cook any apple pies! I didn't think to! Usually we only eat those on very special occasions and- well, yes of course this is the most special occasion...but I had no idea!" Molly paced back and forth fussing over the fact she had no pies prepared "oh, George, you don't suppose he'll be too disappointed do you? I'm sure I can whip up a batch before dinner. Oohh but I haven't any apples! I'll have to run to the store".
George sat smiling fondly as his mother twidled her fingers together stressfully. It was endearing he thought, how quickly her priorities change. It wasn't till she started running her hands through her hair and down her appron he knew she needed to be calmed down.
He stood, placing both hands to her elbows to stop her pacing, looking down to her with a grin "Mum...relax." "oh George but the pies!" "MUM! How bout, first things first...you meet the boy." Silent laughter radiated through his chest as her eyes flew open "oh of course! How could I be so selfish! Do I look okay? I don't want to come across as some nutter" "doesn't matter how you look, you'll ways be a nutter." Molly smacked her son's arm as he laughed.
Slowly the two made their way back inside, his arm tight around her shoulder. He found it concerning at how slow she were walking but knew this was a difficult situation.
As the kitchen door swung open all eyes fell to the pair. Marcos was sitting on the small coffee table of the sitting area as everyone was gathered around, filling him in on anything and everything he wanted to know. Y/n was tucked closely under Charlie's arm on the sofa. Everyone went quiet once again as the two rejoined. Y/ns eyes flew to George who nodded at her, letting her know everything was okay.
Y/n was the only one to move as George and Molly approached the group. She stood, grabbing Marcos by his hands and moving him towards his Grandmother.
He stood straightly, smiling before her as y/n knelt beside him. "Marcos, this is Molly. Your Grandmother" y/n smiled sweetly but nervous up to Molly who only had eyes for the boy infront of her. She had a hand placed to her mouth as she held back glistening tears. "It's nice to meet you" he held out his hand for her to shake, but she didn't move to take it.
"Wait for it" George smirked knowingly. Marcos dropped his hand slightly, head falling to the side in confusion. Wait for wha-
Molly instantly swooped down, engulfing the young boy in a bone crushing hug as a heavy breath left her throat. "We're so glad to have you here, my boy." She let him go, leaning back to place his face between her palms smiling brightly through joyful, unfallen tears. "Bit peaky, what's say we begin dinner" she asked warmly. "That sounds nice" Marcos mumbled through squished cheeks.
"Come, this way Dear," Molly placed a hand to his back directing him to where they'd be eating, fussing over the boy more with each step.
George and Y/n watched on as her son happily seated himself at the table and Molly began piling various foods onto his plate as the rest of the family did the same from the lounge, basking in the small moment shared between Grandmother and Grandson.
'This is how it should always have been' Y/n thought with a heavy heart. There was a calmness in her mind as she watched on, replaying the way the family had greeted the pair as they entered. Things might just work out better than she had feared. Might.
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You're Okay.
Just some sisterly fluff. I imagine Purah's eccentric shenanigans started at a young age, and probably weren't always successful.
Rated G for Girls Being Sisters.
Purah scowled at the wall, hugging her knees. It had been a while since she'd felt this upset. Of course, getting yelled at by the village elder in front of the entire town had a way of doing that. The elder's speech the need to respect tradition was one she'd heard before, but the part about needing to take responsibility for her shortcomings and their consequences was a new one. She wasn't stupid, though; she knew what the elder really meant. The whole village wanted her to stop messing around with Ancient tech. Too many things were unknown, they said. Your experiments keep going wrong, they said. Just give it up already, they said; it's not going to work. You're wasting your time, you're ruining everything. You're a hazard to everyone.
There was a knock on the door. Purah ignored it. The knock came again, but she didn't move. Something creaked, and light from the hallway spilled in, but she only hunched further in on herself.
"Purah?" called Impa. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," she snapped. "I want to be alone."
"You're lying."
Purah sighed. "Okay, you got me; I'm not fine. I did lie."
"Not about that." Impa stepped into the room, then closed the door behind her. "You're lying about wanting to be alone."
Purah didn't react. Impa had an incredibly annoying ability to know what people really meant, even the lies they told themselves. And sure enough, she felt the bed shift as her little sister climbed onto it. Two small hands wrapped around her waist and hugged her from behind. Purah squirmed a little, but not enough to break out of Impa's hold.
"You're still upset at the elder, huh?" said Impa, resting her chin on Purah's shoulder.
"…yeah." Purah sighed again. "I just… I wanted to see what the furnace could do. I didn't mean to get Kawa hurt."
"Mom said he'd be okay."
Purah squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to let the tears slip out.
"No one's gotten hurt before because I screwed up."
Shame burned in her cheeks; shame at her failure, and now at her own emotions. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat. A few tears slid down her face and suddenly she was angry. She cursed her own weakness.
"I should just quit," she muttered, hating herself for the way her voice wavered. "I'm a failure, not a genius. They're right. I should give up before someone else gets hurt." She huffed. "I'm nothing but a disgrace. I need to find something else to do with my life."
"You're lying again," said Impa.
"What?"
"You don't really want to give up learning about Ancient tech, do you?"
It really wasn't fair that Impa could see right through her, Purah thought. Life would be so much easier in the village if she gave up her experiments. She wanted to give them up, she wanted to like farming and painting and wood carving or other normal things, but they just seemed so boring. She really did want to be normal, but Ancient tech was just so interesting.
"No, I don't," Purah whispered. "But I can't keep doing it if I hurt people whenever I try."
All the shame and frustration and anger she felt concentrated into a miserable rock in the pit of her stomach. She winced and leaned forward.
"I hate myself."
She almost expected Impa to tell her she was lying again, but instead, Impa just hugged her even tighter.
"I don't hate you, Pip."
Somehow, it was exactly what she needed to hear. The miserable rock vanished and she felt her spirit lighten as it did. It wasn't enough to make her smile, but she did sit up and pull Impa into a proper hug. They laid back on the bed, arm in arm, in contented silence. As annoying and insufferable as Impa could be sometimes, Purah couldn't help but admire how much she cared for others. They drew a little closer together and gazed out the window to watch the stars appear.
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