#it's embarrassing to be called immature because i got in a bad mood | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gildedmuse · 4 years ago

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Hey, everyone.

So recently I've (predictably) very not well. Actually, whenever I don't post for long periods, just assume my body is trying to kill me. But I've gotten messages from three people asking if I. Okay, which is super sweet. I am actually trying to work on the next All Hearts, a really long ZoLaw post and two request fics, but mixing chronic kidney pain and capitalist society's mandate to work 40+ hours is not recommended.

But to prove I'm okay and still me, here is some Shanks antics with him being a total slut while Mihawk and Beckman just roll their eyes and go along with it. [Shout out to @jhaernyl who not only listens to me ramble about this stuff, but actively encourages it]. I also have many thoughts on the latest episodes and so many screenshots it's embarrassing. Hopefully, when I'm in less pain, I'll get around to actually posting those. Otherwise I just look like an insane person who literally takes by the second frame shots every time Zoro is on screen.

.... What is that? I look like that anyway? Fair.

Shanks Is A Bad Influence

It feels like Buggy and Shanks split up after Roger's death (the crew was told to, and they are the only ones who went to his execution) and I find it impossible to think Shanks didn't immediately set out and find a crew; like, pirating is the only thing this kid knows in life. This means two things:

He set out from East Blue. Also, he seemed at ease and familiar with the East so it's possible he spent like a year there getting everything together. Maybe he even played around in the other blues for a while before heading back to the Grand Line. I say this because his crew is from all over so either he found and recruited them in the Grand Line or visited various blues. Either way, I'm gonna say it took him about two years before getting a 'proper' start. In that case, he would have started out properly at the age of 17 and we know One Piece likes it's parallels.

That still puts Shanks at 17 to Benn Beckmen's 28. How the fuck did Shanks manage that? I'd call it grave robbing, but let's face it, the little tyke probably got up to some actual robbing of graves as well.

My point being everytime Shanks teases Mihawk about keeping this 19 year old kid on his personal island, mostly shirtless, Benn Beckmen just lifts an eyebrow.

Excuse me, captain, who had prefected the 'opps still don't have my sea legs' trip-and-fall into their first mates lap by the age of 17?

Shanks: Beckmen, you caught me! *Shamelessly nuzzles up* Thank goodness! I could be a devil's fruit user after all and - Ahh!

Benn: *Drops Shanks straight over the side of the ship into the water*

Shanks: *Sputtering* What what that!?

Benn: Checking to see if you had eaten a devil's fruit on us, Capatin.

Benn: You didn't.

Smart ass. But he can't resist Shanks forever. Shanks will wear him down eventually.

Next time Mihawk tracks him down for another match - because you know he gets bored way quicker than he'll ever admit and Shanks is at least amusing a challenge - Shanks makes a big deal out of how Mihawk follows him around, "accidentally" revealing they slept together, sighing about how it's so hard to resist him.

Benn Beckmen is just leaning against the side of the ship, sipping his booze.

Shanks: -and I can't stay for hours like last time!!

Mihawk: Are you quite done?

Shanks: *whispering* Does Benn look jealous?

Mihawk: He looks bored. Much like I am. Is this some strange attempt to get out of my challenge, Akagami?

Shanks: What? No, come on I told you I was game. But, hey, could you do me a favor? Maybe like try and kiss me or something? Like take a swing like your going to hit me but then stop shot and grab me by the waist instead.

Mihawk: .... Trickery is beneath you. Besides, you're absolute rubbish at it.

Shanks: Oh, come on, I would totally help you get laid if you asked!

Mihawk: .... *Sigh* I want a proper match afterwards.

Mihawk: *In a forced, monotone voice* After this I will take you to my lair and have my way with you, Akagami.

Mihawk: ... My lair? Really?

Shanks: *Holding up cue card with quickly scribbled line* What? That is how you talk.

Mihawk: I can't believe I wasted precious hours of light tracking you to this atrociously rural port.

Shanks: See? Now, read the next one.

Benn: Captain? If this is going to take all night, I am going to go join the rest of the men in the tavern.

Shanks: Huh? Wait! Benn! What if Miha really stabs me this time!?

Benn: *Salutes Shanks with his bottle* Sounds like that is his plan captain. Have a good 'challenge'.

Shanks: What? No... *Reaching out hand, like he might die if Benn leaves, looking completely devastated* Not even a little jealous...

Mihawk: You couldn't have thought that pantomime would actually work.

Shanks: Benny, don't leave me.... *Turns to Mihawk, immediately brightening* Oh, well, there's always tomorrow. Hey, Miha, guess whose free all night and horny as a pirate in the calm belt?

Mihawk: .... *Sigh* Very well.

Mihawk might as well get something for the trip he made. Although, he's reconsidering if the sex was actually worth the trouble after he ends up listening to Shanks worry half the night that Benn is shacking up with someone else (after a couple hours of rough and raw fucking, admittedly).

Is it the hat? He likes his captain's hat. Miha, you think his captain's hat is sexy, don't you?

Mihawk: It's utterly ridiculous.

Shanks: ....

Shanks: *Smile* Ahh, Miha, I knew you liked the hat!

Shanks: What do you old Northerns find sexy?

Mihawk: I am only four years older than you.

Mihawk: And silence.

Trying to convince Mihawk to go spy on Beckman for him. Shanks doesn't actually care if he does sleep with someone else, it's more that Beckman didn't immediately turn angry and jealous like Buggy would have that has him paranoid.

Mihawk is going to fuck this annoying red head again just to shut him up.

Mihawk: Maybe he doesn't like red haired boys who don't know when to be quiet?

The next morning Shanks is pacing among his poor crew that's gotten stuck listening to Shanks obsess about Beckman again. IS IT REALLY THE HAIR!?

It's not even a matter of Shanks's age (or obvious immaturity). I mean, Beckman got on board and stayed, didn't he? Beckman just enjoys watching Shanks try so hard to get his attention. Like Benn's attention isn't constantly on Shanks. He had to when his captain is always one step away from disaster.

He only left him with Mihawk because it was clear Dracule is not a real danger to Beckman's captain.

Except maybe insulting him to death. But Beckman is pretty sure Shanks can handle it. He's met Buggy. He's suspects Shanks LIKES it if anything.

It gets to the point where when they dock somewhere and see Mihawk waiting, or come back to the ship and spot his familiar silhouette, most of the crew goes off somewhere for another drink (sometimes the newer kids will stay to watch such an awesome fight, everyone else is like... Look, you'll have plenty of opportunities later. This is not a one off.)

Benn just takes a look around, nods to Mihawk (a silent signal for, "he's all yours, do with him as you please, if anything happens to him I will track you down and make sure your last few hours on this blue world are as painful as humanly possible") and heads off.

Oh, it's just the Hawk boy.

That's fine then.

Benn use to be a sailor on a trade ship between the North, East, West and Grand Line. He's seen it all.

They called him The Gun Slinger BEFORE he joined Shanks's crew and became a pirate.

So this young, broke ass kid from the streets of some near artic northern island trying to pass himself off as a Lower North rich type has a thing for his captain? Not really enough to keep Beckman up at night, no matter how good at swords he's supposed to be

Besides, he's pretty sure for the kid to keep tracking down Shanks, he must be bored out of his skull. He's not going to do anything to endanger their captain.

Not if Shanks is the only thing he can find to keep him entertained.

One day, Mihawk is going to be waiting on the dock when a bunch of Red Haired pirates are stumbling home, laughing and chattering amongst themselves (Shanks's crew always seems to be in a good mood). One of them will catch sight if Mihawk and walk by with a smile, patting him on the shoulder.

The captain's occupied. Seems likely he'll be 'occupied' for a good while, too.

Mihawk won't smile, but he will think "So you finally warmed him up to you, Akagami?" and snort lightly.

Poor Benn, though. Mihawk could never imagine being with someone so much younger than him. Shanks is only four years his junior and already it strains Mihawk to put up with his occasional moments of "youthful whimsy" (aka being an annoying, immature child)

"A young, cocky pirate with strangely colored bright hair"

Mihawk just putting that on his Not To Do List.

That lasted until Roronoa.

(Mihawk just looking at Zoro knowing this is bad news.)

Mihawk: *Takes list from Benn*

*Cross out, scribbles*

*Hands back to Benn*

Do Not Do:

- A young, cocky pirate with strangely colored bright hair a silly hat, who is overly dramatic and in any way, shape or form related to Gol D Rogers.

Ace: Hey what's up?

Mihawk: *Takes list from Benn*

Go ahead, Benn, laugh it up. Mihawk is aware he has a type. Young, pretty, and utterly insane.

After that night where Shanks was otherwise 'occupied', it's over six months before Mihawk sees his friend his rival again. He is, as expected, far too smug and proud looking.

Shanks: Oh, Miha, so sorry you came all this way, I'm-

Benn: Well, I'm off, captain.

Shanks: What!? But we, you, I... Benn, hessoeexyarentyouworriedforyourcaptain?

Benn: *patting Mihawk on the shoulder* Have fun with him. Don't forget to return him by noon tomorrow, we have a schedule. Oh, but if you can babysit him for at least four hours? That would be great.

Shanks: BABYSIT!?

Mihawk: I suppose I can be troubled to do so.

Shanks: TROUBLED!?

Benn: Thanks, Hawkeyes. I owe you.

Shanks: *Fake tears clinging to his lashes* You two are so mean!

No, don't feel bad for him. Shanks is just trying to guilt the two of them into bed at the same time, and they both know it.

Thanks no thanks, they're not into that. But Shanks can be pretty cute when he's trying so hard (Benn) and at least he's not as boring as everything else in this world (Mihawk) so they allow him to keep up the act

Shanks: *looking at Zoro's wanted poster over Mihawk's shoulder* But I feel like you'd gladly go to bed with him and his captain if he asked. That doesn't seem fair to me. You'd never go that far with me and Benn.

Mihawk: *Eyes Benn*

Mihawk: *DEAD. ONLY.*

Mihawk: I have my reasons.

They can and do agree on plenty of things, including reciprocally not being that attracted to each other.

Shanks: Sounds fake to me

Shanks: But guys!

Shanks: This isn't about you

He's gonna need you guys to drop the egos and focus on what HE wants. I.E., being in the middle of two sexy Northern men.

Honestly, so mean to poor Shanks!

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seokstrivia · 4 years ago

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And So It Begins | jhs

✽ Summary: You thought you had missed your chance, but you’re just an idiot and Hoseok is bad at communicating

Or, Hoseok lets you know he’s single

✽ Teacher AU | word count: 6.1k

✽ Jung Hoseok x Reader: fluff, angst, friends to lovers, implicated cheating, but no cheating, pining, slow burn, hoseok is soft, namjoon is your brother and jungkook is a child with taehyung, including a lot of frustration

A/N i havent wrote in ages, but i hope this one is as enjoyable as it was when writing it! please let me know what you all think and thank you for reading<3

The sun was bright as it shone through the orange-coloured leaves. It was warmer than usual, even though the air was still crisp. Your classroom was brightly lit by the natural light seeping through the wide-ranging windows, accompanied by the sound of children playing outside.

A sigh parted your lips as you continued to mark the tests you had handed out that morning. The complaints and whines from your students were still buzzing in your ears making you smile. You loved your students; they were always so full of life and eager to learn.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” a familiar voice drew you out of your trance.

Hoseok. Jung Hoseok. A colleague— a fellow teacher you had been working with for almost three years. He was sweet, always knew what he was doing and was always so helpful.

“I am in a good mood, thank you,” you answered with a cheeky smile.

He returned the smile with a fond gaze in his eyes, talking to you always cheered him up. Just seeing you seemed to lighten his day, and you would’ve thought or felt the same if he didn’t have a girlfriend.

It was your own fault; you missed the chance to go on a date with him because you were sick and busy grading papers. However, what made it worse was that you couldn’t even hate the girl he was with because she was so sweet to everyone.

Two-faced as fuck, but you had yet to witness it.

“Do you want to have lunch with me?” He asked, shyly.

Another smile made its way to your lips as your eyes made contact with his. A red hue accommodated his cheeks while he waited for a response. It was easy to say yes to him, easy to give in and have lunch as friends and nothing more. But when he was with the woman he was with, then it wasn’t that easy or simple even.

“I’ll have to get back to you. I think Mr Park and I are having a meeting,” you told him.

The way the smile fell from his lips made you feel so guilty. You weren’t lying but it wasn’t the truth either, Mr Park, better known as Jimin, wanted to meet you after school not during lunch.

“I’m sorry,” you added before he could leave.

Hoseok seemed to avoid you after asking you to lunch, Jimin didn’t seem too pleased with you lying to him. It seemed like he told Hoseok the plan was to meet after school hours.

It was your own fault for lying and beating around the bush. More so, it was childish and immature, you could’ve just said yes like you wanted to and then dealt with his girlfriend later.

Too late now. You sighed.

“Parents evening is coming up,” Namjoon said trying to lighten the dull mood.

He was a single dad to a beautiful girl; he was also your older brother who seemed to know every little thing about you.

“Did Yerin remind you?” You smiled.

Namjoon shook his head in full offence, “I remembered by myself,” he berated like a small child. “I have a good memory.”

You chuckled at the scowl on his face making him smile in return. The atmosphere did lighten up thanks to your brother, and the sour memory of Hoseok avoiding you was quickly forgotten about as the night went on.

“So… has she been a good girl?” He asked quietly.

The coffee on your desk was getting cold, but that was the last of your worries. One of the students in your class was beginning to slack in terms of homework.

You weren’t one to tell children off for not doing their allocated work at home, especially when you never did yours as a child. However, it was worrying when the smartest kid in class was falling behind.

Hence why, when the end of the day bell rang, you were quick to call him over before he could leave. There was a sad look in his eyes and you instantly knew something was wrong.

The talk with your student went on longer than you anticipated, but when he told you how he felt and what was going on, you didn’t have it in you to tell him to stop talking.

He trusted you.

“Is it ok if I call your dad and speak to him?” You asked, carefully.

Jungkook slowly nodded his head, his eyes were brighter as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, miss!” He beamed as he left the classroom.

A sigh of relief parted your lips as you watched him run towards his dad. The clouds were grey and dull, but that didn’t seem to faze the two standing outside, and when it started raining, the smiles on their faces only seemed to grow wider.

When Namjoon called you that night to see how you were doing, you were more than happy to tell him you were doing great.

After that, things seemed to be going well until you ran into Hoseok. He was holding two small boxes of art materials and was out of breath from running down the flight of stairs.

It was awkward but at the same time it wasn’t, just because you didn’t speak to each other anymore, didn’t mean you were now nothing but strangers.

At the end of the day, you were both adults and he was your colleague. One little mistake shouldn’t ruin what you two had, hence why an apology was in order and maybe lunch to make up for things.

“Would you like some help, Hoseok?” You offered with a smile.

Hoseok seemed hesitant at first, but he nodded his head, answering with a short, ‘yes, please.’ You took the box on top before following him to his classroom, it was now or never.

After placing the box on his desk, you turned around to face him. There was still a friendly smile on your lips, but he could tell you had something to say.

Hoseok was different from your other friends, he was sweeter than honey and brighter than the sun. He was careful with his words and actions, more so, he was loyal.

“I’m sorry for lying to you. I hope I can make it up to you by… maybe… buying you lunch?” You offered.

The way his face lit up at your words caused your heart to jump to your throat. This would’ve been so much easier if you didn’t have feelings for him.

“I’d love that, y/n,” he beamed.

You returned the smile before telling him to text you a day and time. That night, you went home with a light heart and skip in your step.

“Auntie, are you ever going to find a boyfriend?” Your niece asked you.

Namjoon choked on his chicken, eyes wide in surprise, he never thought his daughter would ask such a question. But you didn’t seem surprised, instead, you laughed in response and sent her a wink.

He wasn’t sure what that meant, but Yerin seemed to like the answer since she winked in return.

Namjoon sighed, girls were a mystery.

“Does Yerin know something I don’t?” your brother asked while washing the dishes.

You retired your chin on your hand while you watched him. He was bound to drop a plate or glass soon, it just meant you would need to finish off the dishes and clean his mess.

“I’m not going to drop anything tonight,” he declared while turning his head around.

There was a frown on his face as he glared at you, and It reminded you of the times your mum would tell you off or the times she would shout at Namjoon for breaking something.

“Do you remember when mum would get us in trouble for silly things, like laughing?” You reminisced.

Namjoon chuckled in return as he nodded his head. Of course, he remembered. While raising his daughter he’d come to learn that he was very much like his mum.

“I got Yerin in trouble for whistling the other night,” he snorted making you laugh.

“Mum would be so proud of you, Namjoon.”

He gazed at you with so much parent-like love, “and you.”

The rest of the night was spent looking through old albums and laughing at embarrassing photos while drinking wine and wishing time would slow down.

Winter was right around the corner; nights were colder, and the days were shorter. Now school was the last thing on children’s minds as they spoke about Christmas, and what they wanted from Santa Clause.

You smiled as you listened to your students talk about candy canes and finding the perfect Christmas tree. It reminded you of the times you would go sledging with Namjoon and have snowball fights with Yoongi.

“Miss, what are you doing on Christmas?” Taehyung urged with eagerness.

His question seemed to pique interest in the whole class as they had stopped colouring in. Their eyes were shining under the bright lights as they waited for you to answer his question. Truth be told, you didn’t have an answer. Well, you didn’t have one that would satisfy their minds or excite them further.

“She’s having dinner with me.”

The girls squealed at Hoseok’s’ answer while the boys sniggered to themselves. You playfully shook your head while asking them to quieten down so you could speak to Mr Jung. They were quick to do as they were told, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t try to listen to your conversation or watch on with eager eyes.

“What can I do for you?” You greeted as you approached him.

“I don’t know if you remember, but you offered to buy me lunch,” he stated.

The few giggles heard behind you made you laugh to yourself easing your racing heart. You didn’t think he’d take the proposal since it’d taken him almost a month to get back to you.

“You’re right, I did offer,” you nodded.

“How’s Friday? I know it’s late but—“

“Friday is fine,” you cut him off before he could apologise or give an excuse for why he’d taken so long to get back to you.

His smile was contagious enough to make your class smile. But it wasn’t enough to make you forget about his girlfriend, the one woman you were trying to stay clear of.

It was when you were walking to your car you felt a hand on your shoulder. There was a strong feeling in your gut telling you not to turn around, but you still did.

And there she was.

“Hi Irene, can I help you?” You inquired politely.

She shook her head while slipping her hand into her pocket. Her long eyelashes fluttered over her tinted cheeks as she blinked. She was annoyingly very, very, pretty.

“I know you’re getting lunch with my boyfriend. So, I am only here to remind you that he is taken, and he’s mine,” she told you.

You were slightly taken aback by her strong demeanour, but it was a given that this would occur. You even had nightmares about it.

“I’m not going to steal him from you. He wouldn’t cheat on anyone and I would never do that to anyone,” you replied, trying to remain calm.

There was a smirk on her lips as she flicked her hair over her shoulder and fixed the scarf around her neck.

“As if he would want you anyways.”

The snicker that followed her words, in the process of her turning around and leaving, caused a heavy shiver to shoot up your spine.

You had a bad feeling about this.

Namjoon was rambling on about how Yoongi and Jin kept arguing about shoes when your phone buzzed in your pocket. You weren’t shocked to see multiple texts from Jimin but when you saw Hoseok's’ name, you felt yourself stop breathing.

A part of you knew it was a text to cancel plans, you didn’t want to believe it, but you knew. So, when you opened the message to read the text, you weren’t surprised.

However, you were disappointed.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Namjoon urged, softly.

You shook your head in reply and shoved your phone in your pocket. There were two ways to deal with this 1) to become really angry and never talk to Hoseok again, or 2) pretend you’re ok and move on.

He wasn’t single anyways; he was just a friend.

“Nothing, it’s just Jimin and his workload,” you lied while keeping a small smile on your lips so he wouldn’t worry.

Namjoon didn’t believe you, but he didn’t question you further either. If you wanted to talk, you would and he, of all people, knew that.

Still, at this point, option number one seemed to be better than the one you picked. But, at the end of the day, you were an adult with a full-time job.

And it sucked.

“I wish I wasn’t at home sick the day Hoseok asked me to dinner,” you voiced. “We wouldn’t be playing this stupid game and I wouldn’t have missed my chance.”

Namjoon remorsefully shook his head and hauled you in for a hug. He was quick to kiss your forehead and rub your back in comfort.

“If all these thoughts are coming from Jimin’s workload, you better ask him to stop messaging you,” he joked trying to lighten the mood.

It didn’t work of course, but it did bring a genuine smile to your lips. Hoseok would always be just a friend, and that was something you had to accept.

The very next day you were back at work, and so far, it seemed to be going okay considering you’d yet to come across Hoseok. However, for whatever reason, it seemed like he was avoiding you.

…Which was fine since you didn’t really want to talk to him, even though it was kind of childish…

“Auntie, I forgot my lunch,” a small voice spoke making you smile.

You felt the need to coo at your niece for being so adorable, but that would embarrass her, and then you would never hear the end of it.

“Come here, your dad texted me this morning. I picked up your favourite sandwich and drink at the supermarket before coming to work,” you grinned seeing her eyes shine at the sight of food.

“Thanks, Auntie!”

Yerin was quick to hop into a chair at one of the many desks in the room and eat her lunch. She would chat with you almost after every bite and tell you about her day like she would at home.

It was nice having company… maybe you should ask Jimin to meet you for lunch, it does get a bit lonely sometimes.

“Mr Park said he has a someone special,” Yerin voiced with a mouth full of food. “He said she works here.”

You rolled your eyes at the little girl; she was just as bad as her dad.

“Yerin-ah, you were supposed to eat the sandwich, not destroy it.”

She giggled in response while hopping off her seat, “thank you, auntie! I’ll see you at home time.”

You watched her throw her trash in the bin before running out of the room. It made you feel a little sad to see her leave, but there was nothing you could do about that.

“Hey, you,” Jimin beamed when you stepped into his class.

He was marking papers, something you should’ve been doing too, but you didn’t want to sit alone anymore.

“Let’s get dinner,” you proposed just as you stood in front of his desk.

The sun was setting behind Jimin producing golden hues. It made the room look different, more intriguing rather than dull and boring. Jimin stood up and stepped around his desk after reaching for his coat. He must’ve agreed to your suggestion because he was already walking towards the door.

“What are you waiting for?”

His smile made his eyes disappear, and it made you laugh to yourself as you remembered him complaining about how he couldn’t see whenever you made him smile.

Jimin was a good friend, he always would be.

“Nothing. Let’s go.”

When you invited Jimin to dinner, you didn’t think he would invite Hoseok and his… girlfriend. It’s not like this was a double date, more so, you just didn’t want to speak to them.

The sun had set long ago, the stars were shining, and the moon long replaced the sun. A sigh parted your lips as you felt cold air seep through your coat. Maybe you could cancel last minute and go home. They would understand since you took care of Yerin a lot when Namjoon worked.

Another sigh left your lips.

“Are you okay?” Jimin asked with concerned eyes.

You smiled at him and nodded your head. He must’ve known you were lying, or you’re just a really bad liar because he was quick to pull you aside.

Why were you so easy to read?

“Is it because I invited Hoseok?” He questioned further.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s really immature but I just— I can’t,” you told him.

What you said didn’t make sense, but Jimin seemed to understand.

“Let’s go somewhere else. Wait here.”

You watched him step towards the couple, watched him take Hoseok aside and tell him he was taking you somewhere else. Hoseok’s smile fell as his gaze met yours, he didn’t question further but you knew he wanted to.

Jimin didn’t say anything when he led you out of the restaurant. He didn’t say anything when he ordered the food. He didn’t say anything when he paid for the bill.

You were thankful that he didn’t pry into your mind, to be honest, you didn’t have an answer yourself. Maybe you were jealous of Irene or maybe you hated yourself for not trying with Hoseok.

It was too late now anyway.

“Thank you for dinner, Jimin,” you beamed. “And for taking me somewhere else.”

He shyly shook his head, eyes small crescents as he smiled widely.

“It’s ok. I’m sorry I invited them without asking you,” he replied sheepishly.

“It was my fault. I shouldn’t have acted the way I did.”

Jimin was sweet and careful with you, his touches were soft and words sincere. Sometimes you wondered what it would be like to be in love with him. However, in the end, you really just wanted him to find the perfect person, someone who would love him forever.

“I hope you work things out with Hoseok,” he shrugged, hand rubbing the back of his neck.

You disregarded what he said. Instead, you smiled at him again and kissed his cheek before thanking him once more and letting yourself into your home.

It’s not that you didn’t want to ‘fix’ things, it’s just that you didn’t know what needed fixing. Was it miscommunication? Or were you simply overthinking everything?

Probably the latter.

“Namjoon-ah, I’m home.”

“Enjoy your Christmas break, class, and don’t forget to leave out cookies for Santa,” you winked as you dismissed your class.

They happily said goodbye while they trailed out of the room, one by one. You could see Hoseok down the corridor waving bye to his class too. It had been a while since you spoke to him, to be honest… you missed him. A lot.

He made eye contact with you before stepping back into his room. Hoseok looked good in a suit and tie. But he looked better with a smile on his face and you hadn’t seen one in a while.

A deep exhale left your lips as you pulled your phone out of your coat pocket. There were multiple texts from Jimin and a few from Namjoon; as usual.

However, there was also one from Hoseok.

From Jung Hoseok:

— I was wondering if we could talk.

— Maybe over a cup of coffee?

You were nervous. Really nervous.

To Jung Hoseok:

— Make it a hot chocolate and you have a deal.

From Jung Hoseok:

— Done ;)

Sometimes you wondered what it would feel like to belong to someone. Other times, you wondered what it would feel like to belong to Jung Hoseok.

“Thanks for meeting up with me.”

You blinked out of your daze when you heard his voice. It took you a few seconds to realise you’d reached the chosen cafe.

“It’s ok. I really needed a hot chocolate,” you chuckled nervously. “So, what did you want to talk about?”

Hoseok seemed nervous, well, more nervous than you. He had a woolly scarf wrapped around his neck while a black coat engulfed his body. It made him appear smaller. Cute.

He didn’t say anything for a few minutes, but he kept his gaze locked on yours. As if he was studying you, memorising your features to secure it in his memory forever.

It was a comfortable silence. Almost.

“I—Well… I wanted to talk about us,” he muttered, eyes dropping to his hands.

You nodded your head, silently prompting him to continue. However, you had a few things to say too.

“It’s just that… We used to be such good friends, and then I asked you out and everything kind of… fell apart? I don’t know,” he sighed in frustration as he thought about it. “I’m sorry if I ruined things, I just, I guess I wish you told me how you felt sooner.”

Now it was your turn to be frustrated, not only because of the obvious miscommunication between you too but also because of how stupid he was. It was almost as if he didn’t know anything.

“You didn’t ruin anything, Hoseok. I explained why I couldn’t meet you that night, I really wanted to, but I was sick,” you told him.

Hoseok seemed even more confused than before, he couldn’t get his head around what you’d just told him. Mainly because he didn’t receive a text from you that night.

“I didn’t get a text.”

That couldn’t be right. You remember sending a text to him because Namjoon told you to stay home. So, how?

“I really didn’t, y/n. If I did and if I’d known you were sick, I would’ve come to see you,” he added.

“It’s ok, I believe you. I’m just confused.”

He nodded his head in relief and finally smiled at you. Everything seemed to be making sense between you two. The only thing left to figure out was how this miscommunication occurred.

“Me too,” he chuckled breathlessly. “But it’s weird because Irene turned up out of nowhere.”

Your eyes were quick to meet his, to see how he felt about her as if you could. It was strange because he didn’t seem too pleased about the way her name rolled off his tongue.

“Are you two… like… a thing?”

It was a stupid question because everyone who worked at the school knew. But they’d all heard from Irene, that was one person. That was one side of the story, no one had ever heard anything from Hoseok.

More so, your question seemed to throw Hoseok off guard.

“We’ve never been a thing!” He suddenly argued. “Why would we be when everyone knows I like you?”

“I’m sorry! There’s no need to get angry, it’s not like it’s my fault. You never told me how you felt.”

He scoffed in annoyance while rolling his eyes, “y/n, I asked you out on a date! That’s bound to tell you something.”

You’d never seen him angry before. Hoseok didn’t even get angry at his class when they misbehaved.

“I didn’t know, okay. Irene told everyone you two were together,” you muttered under your breath.

Hoseok shook his head in disbelief, you didn’t know if he was angry at you, Irene or himself. Maybe it was your fault for believing someone like Irene. You sighed.

This wasn’t going as well as you thought it was. The guy you liked, liked you back but you were too oblivious to see that and now, now he was leaving.

You wanted to cry. Why was the universe never on your side?

To Joonie:

— Can you pick me up? Please.

From Joonie:

— I’m on my way, love

What a great start to Christmas break…

“Y/n, you need to get out of bed,” Namjoon scolded once again when he opened the door to your room.

He had been trying to get you out of bed for two days now, but you weren’t listening. A deep exhale parted his lips when he saw you pull the covers over your head.

This was ridiculous.

“What kind of example are you setting for your niece? This is not how you deal with your problems, now get up before I drag you out of bed.”

You groaned at his words and reluctantly threw the covers off when you heard him walk away.

“At least shut the door, you asshole!”

“Language!” He yelled back making you cringe.

This was not going to be a good Christmas break, and to make it worse, you still wanted to cry.

It was nearing 4pm when you finally dragged yourself out of bed. The moon had already replaced the sun, and a thick white blanket covered the city.

You felt like going back to bed and never waking up until you really needed to. But you opted for your phone instead since Namjoon was extra scary when he was in mom mode.

From Jimin:

— Text me for plans!

From Yoongi:

— I think we need to organise a horror movie night!

— But just us… if you know what I mean ;)

— Jokes… text me!

From Jung Hoseok:

— We need to talk.

From Irene:

— You made Hoseok cheat on me!

— You said you would never do that. Lying Bitch.

Wow, okay.

To Jung Hoseok:

— Screenshot sent.

You didn’t get a reply when you sent the screenshot, not even hours later. To be honest, you tried not to care.

But it was hard not to.

“Good to see you’re finally awake. Come and eat something,” Namjoon shot without giving you a second glance.

At least your brother cared about your well-being.

Christmas break was going as well as you expected it to. Most days were spent having coffee with Jimin; small outings with your friend… which he called dates. You didn’t think much of it, friends could have friend dates, right?

But then, then, after one too many coffees, he asked you to be his date to his parents Christmas party. Something about wanting to introduce his favourite person to his family. You didn’t know what it meant—what he meant, but you couldn’t say no.

Namjoon was over the moon when you told him. He said something about finally getting over a long crush and moving on. He was wrong, you weren’t moving on. The last few days had been somewhat like an out of body experience, leaving you confused and annoyed.

You don’t know what you were doing.

“Wear a nice dress for him,” Yerin voiced while she watched you raid your closet.

“I don’t have any.”

She clicked her tongue as she slid off your bed. Yerin was a sweet little girl, but sometimes you believed she was an old soul. The way she spoke or acted only proved your assumption.

“Auntie, wear the dress you were going to wear on your date with Mr Jung.”

You let her move you out of the way and observed her draw out a bag from the back of your closet. It was buried away so you would never need to see it again, not like you had anywhere to wear it anyways…

“Here,” she forced, giving you the bag.

Sometimes Yerin reminded you of your mum.

“Thanks,” you muttered, earning a smile in return.

The dress fit better than you remembered. It looked nice. Who were you kidding? It was perfect… just perfect for the wrong guy. Still, maybe dating Jimin won’t be hard.

You say that while your heart sinks at the sight of Jung Hoseok.

Jimin didn’t tell you Hoseok was invited, he didn’t tell you he would wear a black suit with a tie that somehow matched the colour of your dress, he didn’t tell you he would smile and shine.

More so, he didn’t tell you that Hoseok would avoid you.

There was nothing you could do about that though. If he wanted to avoid you so be it… the whole situation, however, annoyed you more than you thought it would.

“You look beautiful, y/n,” Jimin complimented.

He reached for your hand and interlaced it with his. Your eyes caught Hoseok’s before you turned your attention to your friend.

“Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself,” you teased making him laugh.

“I need to be honest with you,” he sighed with a small smile. “I didn’t invite you to be my date. I invited you because you and Hoseok need to talk and sort out all the misunderstandings.”

This wasn’t the first time Jimin had been so serious, but it was the first time he had been serious with you. More so, he was right.

You really wanted to talk to Hoseok and ask him what his problem was, because who acts this way with the person they like? But then again, you didn’t tell him how you felt, you were too worried about Irene. Someone who meant little to nothing to Hoseok.

The whole thing was really fucking stupid.

“Okay, thanks for being honest, Jimin,” you replied.

He drew you in for a hug before pushing you towards Hoseok, “talk it out and thank me later.”

It was awkward for about five seconds, but then it seemed like things were going to be okay when he smiled at you. Not at Jimin or Jin but you.

There was no exchange of words for the first few seconds, it was obvious a lot had to be said but the two of you didn’t know where to start. First of all, there was the situation with Irene. Second of all, there was the screenshot and then, then there were your feelings.

“We have a lot to talk about,” Hoseok finally addressed.

You nodded your head, “I know.”

He held onto your hand and led you into Jimin’s room. He closed the door before stepping onto the balcony for fresh air. It was stuffy inside, and the air was nice and cool against your skin.

The stars shone brighter than the city lights– the city which seemed to go on forever over the horizon. It made you feel small and incapable. The world was a big place waiting to be explored.

You had a lot going through your mind, but you didn’t know what to say.

Although it was Hoseok who spoke first. He had his hands in his pocket as he stared at the city ahead.

“I’m sorry for ignoring you. There was a lot to deal with after we spoke, even more after you sent me that screenshot,” he spoke quietly as if afraid to wake the world.

“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have acted the way I did.”

Hoseok turned around to stare at you– properly stare at you. It’d been a while, he regretted not speaking to you sooner. So much went through his mind when Jimin told him you two were meeting up for coffee or lunch.

It annoyed him when Jimin called them ‘dates’, but there was nothing he could do or say… until now.

“Irene won’t be bothering you anymore, I sorted it all out,” he said while gazing into your eyes. “You won’t need to worry about her.”

“Tha–That’s good.”

He nodded his head before dropping his gaze. So far things were going well, so far it seemed like it would go back to normal. But then, then you hadn’t really voiced your mind or told him how you felt.

You didn’t know if it was a good time. He deserved to know, of course, he did. How would you tell him though? Hey, I’ve liked you for so long now? No, that’s embarrassing.

“You don’t need to force things to get better or be okay because I know they will be,” Hoseok voiced as he offered a smile.

It was almost funny how he always seemed to know what to say.

You presented a smile in return as you asked him to dance…

Namjoon was as dumbfounded as was your niece. They stared at you with wide eyes and dropped jaws. This wasn’t the reaction you were expecting on Christmas Eve when you told them about your talk with Hoseok.

“You didn’t confess?” Yerin almost screeched. “What kind of romance drama is this?”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, “this isn’t a romance drama. It never was.”

“Watch your tone Yerin-ah,” Namjoon added in a stern tone.

Yerin was quick to shut her mouth, she knew not to get her dad angry. However, she also knew when she was right, and exactly what to say; it was a similar trait to your mum.

“I just think auntie should go and confess. Like, now.”

Namjoon stared at his daughter for a few seconds before turning to stare at you, his expression told you everything, and it was hard not to roll your eyes.

“It’s Christmas Eve,” you deadpanned. “He’ll be spending time with his family.”

Your brother shrugged his shoulders at you as he drew Yerin onto his lap. She was smart for a seven-year-old it was scary.

“You might never get the chance again,” he told you matter-of-factly. “It’s better to say it than regret it later, isn’t it?”

“I hate when you’re right.”

A lot went through your mind when you texted Hoseok. So much more rushed through your mind while you waited for him next to the Christmas tree. There was no one at the park except you and the fear of him not showing up.

It was nearing midnight. Three more minutes and it would be Christmas. Three more minutes and then you were leaving. He wasn’t going to show up. He wasn’t coming.

“Why are your eyes closed?” Someone asked,

A long exhale, you didn’t know you were holding, escaped your lips while you slowly opened your eyes.

“I was scared you wouldn’t come.”

He smiled his bright smile making you blush.

“That’s silly. We have a lot of missed time to make up for, so here I am,” he winked.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Sure, he was right about all the chances you missed, but did he know you liked him? Surely, not.

However, the smile on his lips and the gaze in his eyes said otherwise. He had to know… if he didn’t before he definitely did now. You asked him to meet you at night, next to a Christmas tree because you had something to tell him.

How obvious could you be?

“Hoseok, I think you already know… but I like you too.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he chuckled. “I already know.”

You laughed in return earning a soft gaze from the man in front. It kind of was like a romantic drama as your niece had said, just one with a little less drama. It was nice especially when Hoseok tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before kissing your cheek.

“Merry Christmas, my love.”

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everythingsinred · 4 years ago

Text

Let's Talk About NatsuMikan: Natsume (pt. 6)

Last time, we talked about Natsume's growing crush on Mikan. As the festival continues, his feelings will only grow. Today we'll discuss how these new feelings will affect him, and particularly how they have the potential to create tension in his friendship with Ruka.

Chapter Twenty-One

Mikan is guilty for not having already gone to Iinchou’s haunted house in the latent ability class area. So they end up going together. Although Mikan is easily distracted and wants to try everything in the latent area, Natsume is strict on going straight to the destination with no tangents.

Iinchou lets them in right away without having to wait in the hour-long line. Mikan puts on airs about being a country girl and, just like she’s unafraid of bugs, she’s also not afraid of ghosts. Except she totally is.

Ruka and Natsume don’t seem particularly scared of the haunted house so far, but Mikan is, and she clings to Ruka, desperate not to be left behind, even if it means she hurts him with her grasp.

The person who posted these TokyoPop scans forgot a couple pages so for the longest time the beginning of the chapter was so confusing to me...

Natsume looks behind to see them and is jealous, yet again. Just like with Tsubasa, Natsume is unhappy with his fate to be the bad guy in general. He goes out of his way to look bad to protect people and as a result will not be the one clung to. It’s different from Tsubasa though, because this isn’t some nameless middle schooler that Natsume can take his anger out on: this is his best friend, somebody he’s never felt anything but affection for. Natsume doesn’t want to hurt Ruka; he’s just sad that the situation is so messed up.

Lucky for Ruka, Natsume gives up before there can even be a competition.

It’s for the best this way, after all. For Ruka to be happy, for Mikan to be with somebody kind who deserves her, and even for him, because maybe this way Mikan won’t be used against him like everybody else he cares about.

Natsume makes this decision without talking to anybody and before anyone can even figure out that there’s a choice to be made in the first place.

Then they run into a crawling hag and nobody’s immune to the terror that being chased after by that demon brings. All three of them run for it, but they end up in a new spooky room, which freaks Mikan out so much she screams and faints, foaming at the mouth, causing Natsume to fall and twist his ankle and for Ruka’s rabbit to run off. He chases after it, leaving Natsume and Mikan alone. Iinchou breaks whatever causes the electricity to run in the building and now they’re trapped alone in the dark, unable to get out.

Mikan tries to figure out a way for them to escape, but climbing the wall is out of the question since Natsume’s ankle is twisted. He suggests that he blow up the wall, but Mikan is adamantly against that idea because the latent students worked hard to make the mansion. Natsume acquiesces. That’s fine. He doesn’t mind spending more time with her. It just means she’ll have to stay in the dark for longer.

She is very clingy when she’s scared, and although he complains he doesn’t really make any moves to get her off. I mean, why would he? This is exactly what he wanted, though he did only get it because he was the only person around that she could cling to. There’s a moment where he spooks her, perhaps so she would hug him more, but then she whines for him to stop scaring her and the panels are quite sparkly. Natsume is distressed about his new crush and the effect it has on him. Really her whining and puppy-dog eyes are not any less powerful on Natsume than they are on Ruka. He’s just better at hiding it.

He looks at her softly and then has a moment where he looks almost peeved to have felt so fond at all... but it won't last. These days he has more affection for her than irritation.

Mikan tries apologizing about getting angry with him at Anna’s cafe, but he pretends like he has no idea what she’s talking about. To me, this cements that Natsume wants to look bad to her in particular. He doesn’t really want her to figure out that he’s kind deep down or that he’s selfless 99% of the time. He doesn’t want her to think he cares at all because it’s best for him to continue being the same jerk he has been for the past twenty chapters. He’s okay with her hating him, because that way she won’t become the new Ruka, used by the academy as a pawn to get him to jump through more hoops.

She tries to make him smile and that’s another big deal. Most people think Natsume is cool for being so unaffected. His fans think he’s the man, a tough guy who frowns all the time. Even Ruka’s approach to this issue was to stop smiling too.

Mikan’s approach is to tell jokes.

Of course, it doesn’t work, and the jokes aren’t any good, but Mikan is trying something nobody else has done: instead of looking up to him or going down to his level of misery, Mikan’s trying to lift him up. She wants him to smile and be happy and that sets her apart. She’s immature and childish and that brings out the childishness in him too. And like I mentioned a while ago, childishness in Natsume is a good thing. With her, he can bicker and argue and tease like he used to before he came to the academy. She has no idea what he’s going through and her mood changes so quickly she can’t even stay mad or upset. She’s just a joyful and loud girl who rubs off on everyone she meets and Natsume is far from being an exception.

He can just mess around like a kid for once. He doesn't have to be serious around her all the time.

Thus, the next important thing in regards to analyzing their relationship is that the last page of the chapter has him teasing her and then smiling at her reaction. We’ve only seen Natsume smile twice before: with Youichi for a brief moment, and then with Ruka on the cover for Chapter Sixteen (Natsume's evil smile when Mikan gets bullied by middle schoolers doesn't count as a real smile). This officially adds Mikan to the incredibly short list of people who can make Natsume smile. She’s angry with him, arguing, but being able to let go of all his darkness and just tease a girl and have her act with such strong emotions is enough to make him happy. And that’s what this is: Natsume is happy.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The musical creates some tension between Natsume and Ruka, as expected, because liking the same girl can make rifts between friends. On the other hand, this isn’t your typical love triangle. Usually in love triangles, the two guys are already positioned against each other. Though Natsume and Ruka may be opposites in many ways, they are not rivals at all. They love each other, and that love is not at all damaged by the conflict of falling for the same girl; it just becomes tense between them.

In fact, the beginning of the chapter has some Class B pals eagerly going backstage to find Ruka before the somatic ability class musical. When they find him, Natsume is the only one to not laugh at or tease him, and seems to be the only one really concerned with Ruka’s feelings about being cast as Snow White.

When the sticky ball incident occurs, there’s a lot more damage done than there is in the anime. In the anime, some cast and crew get stuck, but ultimately nobody was in any real danger of being hurt. In the manga, there were potentially catastrophic consequences for the blast and a lot of equipment got damaged in the process. A somatic child playing one of the seven dwarves is about to be hit by a stagelight when Natsume rushes to get him out of the way, resulting in them getting stuck together. If Natsume hadn’t stepped in, that kid could have gotten really injured, at least.

As a result of Natsume’s heroism, Narumi suggests that he dress up as a forest friend. When Natsume refuses, the child is to be kicked out of the play, and the seven dwarves will be changed to six. Natsume sees the kid pout and with absolutely no more need for convincing he goes to get changed into a cat outfit.

This is noteworthy because the cat outfit is humiliating (not that Natsume hasn’t worn similar things in official art… just saying) and it’s something he truly does not want to do, but he does it, even though he doesn’t even know the kid. It’s some random somatic kid, not Ruka or Youichi or even Mikan, and yet he goes out of his way to do something truly selfless so that the kid can perform what he’s practiced. Natsume is kind in quiet ways, and not just with the people he cares about. Like with Anna, Natsume puts the needs of someone he isn’t close to in front of his own reputation.

Now, Natsume is in a horrible mood, embarrassed to be seen in the costume, and Ruka is confused why he’d even bother, until he sees the smile on the little kid and everything snaps into place for him. Mikan is a very intuitive and emotional girl who can sense things about all sorts of people, but when it comes to Natsume, nobody knows him better than Ruka, who can tell right away the motives for any of his actions.

I work at a restaurant and kids Natsume's age will be like, "I don't want a kids' menu" and act all grown up and then see how big the adult portions are, so they end up eating the Cub Pancake anyway LMAO. Do you want extra whipped cream and chocolate chips, Natsume?

Onto the actual NatsuMikan portion of this analysis, at long last, Mikan is overjoyed to see how adorable he is in his costume and she is the only one who won’t hold back from saying so because she’s not scared of him. I’ve seen someone complaining that Natsume says “Don’t call men cute,” but I always found that line funny because Natsume is a literal ten-year-old boy… He is not a man at all. It’s the sort of thing you’d expect a kid to say, especially one who wants to be a grown-up as soon as possible, which makes the line endearing to me, but that’s my personal feelings about it. (Like the above caption, I find it very amusing when little kids pretend they're all grown up.)

Anyway, Natsume is as much an idiot as he is in the anime, volunteering Mikan to be the prince, even using one of his three wishes to make it happen. This is all motivated by his feelings of humiliation, and he’s taking it out on her, arguing that he doesn’t want to wear the outfit for no reason so the show has to go on no matter the cost--but this will bite him in the ass sooner rather than later.

Chapter Twenty-Four

The chapter begins and Mikan is very nervous about playing the prince, particularly about looking the part as she is very uncomfortable with her hair down.

This is actually the first time we see Natsume’s feelings about it, but he’ll only make it more clear in about ten more chapters. Here, Mikan wonders if she should put her hair back up and Natsume snaps, “No!” before walking away in a huff. It’s a small scene, and it’s even told through tiny text, but it’s enough to let any reader paying attention know that Natsume also thinks Mikan looks cute with her hair down. Yes, he’s embarrassed to have said anything, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t say it.

Don't worry about him, he's just in a bad mood.

Natsume mainly observes, and nothing noteworthy happens. He eventually goes and gives his line and his aura alone is threatening enough to discourage anyone from laughing or “aww”ing.

The next important moment is when Mikan sees the stage direction to kiss the princess directly on the lips. Narumi says it’s because he’s trying to make up for the loss of sizzle due to the accident, but knowing him, there’s probably more to it. Naru likes stirring the pot and causing drama, although I can hardly tell what his motives are half the time. Truly, I believe he is the most mysterious character in the whole story.

Natsume does not allow this to happen, so he throws something at Mikan’s head--some random box thing--and Hotaru shuts off the lights.

Natsume does something kind of selfish here. He didn’t want them to kiss, so he stopped it. The fact that he grabbed the first thing he saw meant it was a sudden choice to chuck it. I wonder if he had any intentions of just toughing it out and dealing with it, but eventually jealousy won out and he did the selfish thing.

When I say selfish, I don’t mean “bad”. I just mean that for once Natsume is acting based on what he wants, rather than what will make somebody else happy. When it comes to this kid in particular, I actually want him to do selfish things more often, because he very rarely does. He’s been selfless and heroic enough for one day, having saved a kid from getting injured and then wearing that embarrassing costume. He’s allowed to have done this one thing for selfish reasons.

It’s not like it was a bad thing to do either. It would have only benefited Narumi, and possibly the somatic class to have a spicy musical kiss, but it wouldn’t have been good for Ruka or Mikan. Having their first kiss under such conditions, especially when Mikan was just doing the class a favor by acting in the play to begin with, would have been sad. Natsume essentially saved her from the consequences of his own actions, because it would have been his fault if they’d had no choice but to go through with it.

Moreover, like I said earlier, Ruka can simply tell what Natsume’s motives are from a single look. It’s more obvious in the anime, of course, but I still think manga!Ruka is aware that Natsume intervened. He knows Natsume better than anybody, and he’s too smart to think that box came out of nowhere.

This is just the beginning of a long-standing tension between them, one that they will dance around and pretend isn’t happening for quite a while before actually addressing it properly. For now, they have undiscussed feelings and jealousies that will go unchecked and unresolved for some time, building an even deeper divide between them. After all, Natsume and Ruka have enough of a gap on account of Natsume’s missions and his general feelings of not being able to fit in with anybody. This only broadens the gap.

Chapter Twenty-Six

The dance will be very fun to analyze from Mikan’s perspective, but we’re not nearly finished with Natsume’s, so that will have to wait.

For now, we’ll discuss Natsume’s softening, which Permy points out bitterly on account of being surrounded by closet fans. Previously, she says, they were terrified of him, and why wouldn’t they be? We talked ad nauseam about Natsume’s first thirteen chapters of misery and coldness. He was a scary and unkind guy, definitely unapproachable. Even his admirers in Class B were scared of him, equal parts affection and terror. In a very short time, Natsume has softened and it’s obvious. He even dressed as a cat for the somatic musical! His reputation for being cold and dangerous is softening and the girls who used to fear him are now flocking to him to ask if he’s willing to accept their last dance proposals.

But with all this talk about romance and dancing, Mikan feels left out and can’t relate. Her frustrations only grow when some girls start gossiping about her and she ends up taking it out on Natsume, saying she would never ever wanna dance with Natsume for the last dance. He brushes this off, but he still pouts, obviously affected and a little hurt. Their relationship was on the rise, after all. They were starting to hang out more and were bickering often, something Natsume doesn’t make a habit of doing with most people. But just because Natsume is feeling more fondness for her, that doesn't mean she feels the same way.

He expects this in some way, of course, because it's partially his intention. He expects that she would only tolerate him after everything that happened with them, but that doesn't mean he likes the feeling of rejection.

They're so cute when they pout!

Having a crush is bad enough, but hearing that girl shout that she’d never wanna go out with you is even harder, even if you were maybe purposefully making her angry with you to try and protect her. It would be a tough emotion to bear, especially for a kid unversed in romance. He proceeds to be just as huffy as her.

And as twisted as it is, I’m happy for him.

Natsume was cold and mean and difficult to talk to before he fell for Mikan. Now he’s way more approachable and expressive, willing on occasion to show an emotion that isn’t rage, like hurt or grumpiness or amusement. He can now sit at his desk and pout, something he wasn’t doing before, like a kid throwing a fit.

At the actual dance, Natsume is still hurt, still pouting. It doesn’t help that Mikan glares at him upon spotting him. It’s interesting to see how much this affects him. One girl said something harsh in the heat of the moment and he is taking it so personally. Of course, he gets hurt or angered by many things. Upperclassmen bully him and call him a murderer and he simply uses his alice on them to shut them up. He keeps his face straight, moves on, and forgets it. Naturally, the hurt and resentment sit there in his gut to torment him, because he’s a kid and they’re awful things for anyone to hear, but he’s not acting like that here. Here, he’s grumpy and pouty. His feelings are hurt but they don’t come with urges to punish like being called a murderer does.

And it’s obvious he has no genuine hard feelings because Natsume then shoves Ruka onto Mikan, since Ruka was being transparent about his gaze. He goes on to dance with someone else, anyone else, because Mikan made it clear that she too would rather dance with anyone else, just as long as it wasn’t him. He’s clearly still in a bad mood, though.

He's so used to not getting what he wants that he will do all of Ruka's work for him, so that Ruka can get what he wants.

Later, when Mikan and Natsume are singletons in the middle of the dance floor, they notice each other. Here would be a perfect opportunity to dance, but she made it clear she hated the idea, and he’s not about to embarrass himself to ask. Hence, he huffs again, pouting because there’s no way he’ll ask her to dance once she’s said such harsh things. They stand in silence for just a moment, until he finds some other girl to dance with and leaves Mikan all alone.

They’re both grumpy over the way they’re being treated by the other. Natsume is being immature and petty with his feelings, almost childish (heehee it's all I want for him!). With all the dark and depressing divide between Mikan’s academy life of fun and laughs and Natsume’s life of secret missions and physical abuse, he’s somehow found a way to wedge himself into hers. He’s taking something so minor so seriously. He’s been on the front lines, used his alice to hurt enemies and been hurt by enemies and dangerous ability types alike. He is literally dying and he’s aware of it! But he’s still pouting because the girl he likes was a little mean to him.

But the dance with the girl obviously wasn’t much fun, because Mikan quickly finds him again, away from the party, along a secluded path by some trees. He’s in a pouty mood and obviously needs some time alone with his thoughts.

It shows that he’s done some thinking because he doesn’t even mention her angry words from earlier.

Instead, he just calls the whole festival stupid.

We’re reminded here of a scene from way before they liked each other, when the festival was first announced. Then, she also found him playing with a dog, all on his own, using anger to mask his feelings of hurt. He said the same thing back then, that the whole thing was stupid and it was dumb to get all worked up about it. He’s doing it again now, but it’s a little different this time. Their relationship has changed, improved. They actually care about each other now, and although Natsume starts off just talking through his anger, he eventually turns honest.

The truth is that these periods of childishness will always have to end. It’s just an extended version of the dodgeball game. No matter how much emotion he puts into these experiences, they will be overshadowed by his real life. Now matter how much fun he has, he will always have to stop smiling and go kill himself on Persona’s orders. And even more honestly, the more fun he has, the harder it will be on the people he has fun with. It’s not enough for the ESP and Persona that Natsume completes his missions and does all his work; they find pleasure and relief in his constant misery. The second he cares about something, they use it against him. His joy is never meant to last and will always have consequences for the people he loves.

I hate tumblr's 10 image limit. I hate it. I despise it. I abhor it. I cannot come up with a caption. So instead I'll say again. I hate the 10 image limit.

And so he explains, for once, that he’s simply different from everyone else. The festival is something that doesn’t belong to him. He’s merely been an observer this whole time. He’s never actually been a part of it. And then he tells her that she should stay in the light, stay out of the dark. He calls her naive, but it’s not as much an insult as it used to be.

She is childish and loud and optimistic and annoying and a little sweet and even though he hated all these things about her before, he now realizes that these traits are things to be protected. The more she mingles with him, the darker her life will be. After all, her light is not the only thing that’s contagious: his darkness rubs off on people too, and in his mind it will only hurt her to be involved with him. She should stay in the light--in the shiny, sparkly side of the manga, where everyone is concerned with sports and coming up with ideas for the festival--and keep out of the dark--where there’s murder and blackmail and danger and death. It’s bad enough he can’t keep Youichi or Ruka out of it: Youichi is already in the DA class and Ruka came running after him. He can’t distance himself from them. The most he can do is protect them and raise their star ranks or keep them off of dangerous missions. But with Mikan he has a chance to really protect her, prevent her from being used against him at all. Ideally, she’ll stay away and he won’t need to worry about her as much.

And he wants her to be safe and gone, so when she asks what he means, he changes tactics and decides to be rude and mean instead, telling her to get lost and insulting her. She gets angry and it almost seems like it’ll be another bickering match, where they will both be childish and hurl insults at each other, but he doesn’t take that path.

She is complaining about how he doesn’t seem to know that she has a name, thank you very much--and then he calls her Mikan. He concedes to her demands. He does what he perceives to be the mature, adult thing, ending the argument so she will leave for good. When she has nothing left to argue about, she will have no choice but to walk away, and she does, once he makes it clear that his last command is for her to stop complaining about what he calls her.

Natsume chooses to do the selfless thing again, and gives up the first thing in a long time that made him happy. He barely had any time with her at all, but he lets her go, because she can only continue to be sunny and cheerful away from him. He’s giving up before anyone can tell that something was around for him to give up.

He has no idea how much one word has affected her.

Conclusion

Natsume is a selfless kid. He gives up on what he wants very easily, but especially because he knows that the second he gets what he wants, those things could be destroyed, just by association with him. He just wants the people he loves to be happy, even if it means he could never be.

In the next segment, we'll talk about what Natsume is willing to do to protect Mikan, even if it means being cruel and hurting her. NatsuMikan is the living embodiment of the "break her heart to save her" trope, and I very much adore that trope with my whole heart, so we're going to be having a LOT of fun with the next essay!

Also, disclaimer: I'm not smart. I refuse to take responsibility for any mistakes I make in these essays. There also are no mistakes. I've never misspelled a word in my life.

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catxsnow · 5 years ago

Text

YOU NOT HIM T.D.

Request: Can i request reader liking dick but he reject her because she is too young or something lol. But then tim has a crush on her and she slowly starts to fall for him. Then dick regrets it. Pretty please? 🙏 Thanks!

Warning: angst, mentions of blood, if you squint really hard mentions of sexual content, fluff

A/N: This might be one of my favourites 🥺🥺

Word count: 5.1k

Bruce Wayne was somehow able to adopt all attractive children. Every single kid that he had living under his roof turned out to be ridiculously handsome later on in life. Dick, the oldest - a ladies man through and through. Jason had his whole 'bad boy' persona - though you knew him well enough to know he was nothing but a sweetheart.

Tim was nothing but lovable. He was kind and sweet to you since the beginning. Even Damian who was still young was going to grow up to be just like his father. They were all incredibly good looking people - all of which had made you weak in the knees.

You had been running alongside Bruce and his family for a couple years. Long enough to have known their identities and long enough to be an equal with them. It was had being a sidekick to the great Batman, but you had made do. Being partners with Tim worked fine, but the moment he left, you did too.

Years of training, hard work, and pining over Dick Grayson. The only problem being - he was twenty-six and you were just past the age of eighteen. Far too young for him and in his eyes, way too immature. That didn't stop you from liking him more and more every time you saw him.

You had even gone out of your way to move to Bludhaven to be closer to him. Working more cases in the night with him, getting every chance that you got to be with him. You were hopelessly yearning for him.

Dick Grayson was perfect. He was kind, patient, a total badass. In all your time of knowing him, he always took his time with you no matter the situation. If you couldn't get a proper training move down, he'd stay with you until you got it. Having trouble with your school work - he'd sit with you and figure it out.

He truly was the perfect man, and you wished nothing more to know if he felt the same way. So, the next time you saw him - you risked everything. You told Dick of your feelings for him, how you wished to be together and be the one to love him. You spilled your heart out to him, hoping that he would accept you.

As you should have known, he didn't. Dick saw you as nothing but a little sister he never had. You were far too young for him. His love for you was always there, just not in the way that you had hoped. Heartbroken, you assured him that you understood him and that everything was okay. As long as you didn't lose him forever, that was what mattered the most.

You were thankful that Dick didn't make things awkward between you. Every time you saw him it seemed just like old times - but now you knew not to get your hopes up anymore. Dick had made his choice, and he wasn't going to change it.

With a broken heart, you moved back to Gotham. Back to working with Batman and Robin- neither of which you were fond to be back with. Things weren't the same, Bruce and Damian didn't need you anymore. You would fly solo unless it was some sort of big raid - often times having to go home to an empty apartment where you would have to sew your own wounds.

You missed what your life was like in Bludhaven. Going back would be too hard, you needed to distance yourself from Dick, let these feelings simmer away until there was nothing left. At least, you hoped that was what was going to happen.

Another night of Gotham and another night of blood soaking through your suit. It had only been a few weeks since you had been back but it felt like a lifetime. Gotham was draining and you forgot how terrible it treated you.

"Heard you were back in town," a voice called out. You were in the bathroom, trying to stitch up the cut along your torso. The sudden arrival had caused you to jump, making your wound even worse. "Oh fuck, sorry."

Tim Drake stood at your door. He wore jeans and a t-shirt that showed just how much stronger he had gotten since you had last seen him. You glared at him between winces of pain. Tim carefully grabbed the needle and thread from your bloody hands, wordlessly taking your place and finishing the job.

"What the fuck, Tim," You snapped. Since being home, you were in no mood to speak to anyone of the Wayne family. It was nice being on your own for a while. Besides, he was supposed to be with the Teen Titans right now. "What are you doing here?"

"Heard you were back in Gotham," He repeated earlier. His stitching jabbed you a little too violently and you jerked at the pain. Without realizing you had latched onto his thigh to try to dim the searing hurt that ran up your body. You never noticed Tim's breathing catch in his throat and the heat that crawled up his neck. "Thought I'd come by and see you."

"How'd you find me?" You asked. You never told anyone where you had set up your new home. Tim only gave you a look - of course. He knew how to find you, he could find anyone if he so wanted to it wasn't too difficult. You appreciated him for going out of his way to meet up with you.

Tim finished the last stitch and wiped away the rest of the blood that stained your skin. He placed a white bandage over it and stretched his back from being crouched for so long. Without missing a beat, he followed you to your room, watching you rummage through your drawer to find a t-shirt to wear.

"I'm guessing you didn't just come for a visit," You continued. Tim leaned against your door, arms crossed over his chest. While he explained himself, you went out to clean up your weapons used from the night, something to keep you busy and your mind off the idea that he might bring up Dick's rejection.

"I came to see if you wanted to join me," He announced. You raised an eyebrow at him. So many times you had explicitly stated that you wanted no part of any team. After learning everything from Batman, you picked up on his undesirable trait of not wanting to be part of a team. Whether it was the Justice League or the Teen Titans.

You scoffed and pushed past him to retrieve your bloody suit. It would need to be fixed and cleaned up before tomorrow night. Tim followed you through your small home. He had wanted you to join for a long time, now that you were done your little escapade in Bludhaven, it was the perfect chance to convince you.

"Come on, you're coming home with wounds every night and I'm worried about you," Tim tried to change your mind. Your eyes narrowed at his words - this hadn't been the first time that he had seen you in Gotham.

"You've been following me?" You asked, but more so looking for confirmation. Tim hung his head in shame. He felt like an idiot for letting that slip - you shouldn't have known about it. It had been several days that he had been in Gotham. Bruce knew, he never told you until now.

"I was worried about you," Tim confessed. "I heard about what happened with Dick and I didn't want you to do anything drastic." More like he was hoping that he could be the one to swoop in and win your heart. You were only a year older than Tim, but while you were pining after Dick, he was pining after you.

Those years as being partners he had fallen in love with you. He loved the way that you were so excited to save people, how you were so easily able to solve problems, and the way you smiled when you were excited. This whole time, you hadn't noticed because you were so busy with trying to sway Dick.

You cringed at him revealing knowing about what happened between you and Dick. That was the last thing you wanted to hear come from him mouth - it was embarrassing. You didn't even want to think about what it would be like if Damian found out what had happened; he would never let you hear the end of it.

"I'm not going to work with a team of kids," you kept up with your answer.

"They - we - aren't kids. I just thought maybe you'd like some fresh faces," Tim argued. The selfish part of him wanted you to come just because he wanted to see you. He wouldn't tell you that, not yet anyways.

You had to admit, the idea of getting out of Gotham and seeing some fresh faces sounded a little too perfect to you. It would be nice to put Batman and Co. on the back burner until this stupid flutter in your heart for Dick went away. As much as you didn't want to join a team, it was your best option.

The bloody suit in your hand dropped to the ground. Maybe it was time for a completely new revamping. New name, new suit, new team, new city. You had been the same vigilante for years - Dick, Jason, even Tim had all grown out of their original stage and into something new. Maybe it was time for you to do so too.

"You know what? Fuck it."

"Tim!" You screeched. Your face was bright red from all the blood flowing to it. Everything was viewed upside down and you were starting to get dizzy.

It had been well over a year since you had joined the Titans. They were all excited to see you there, many faces that you had never seen before and even more that you liked to consider friends. Bart, Kon, Cassie - you were all so excited to see them. Joining this team seemed like a pain but the second you stepped into the tower you knew you made the right choice.

Your new persona made you feel alive again and you were more ready than ever to get back out on the streets to kick some ass. This new life that you created here, it was something that you never thought you would be able to do. For the first time in a long time, you felt happy, at home. Something that never truly happened at the Manor.

"Tim! Let me go!" You laugh echoed through the massive room. The two of you had been training - though at that moment neither of you were taking it seriously in the slightest. Tim had grabbed you by the thighs and hauled you over his shoulder, running around and not letting go.

You slapped his ass, hoping that it would be enough to get him to let you go. Instead, he slapped yours even harder. Thankfully he set you back down on the ground, but didn't considering letting you out of his hold. Tim pulled you against his chest, kissing you long and sweet to make up for his behavior.

"Sorry, my love," Tim smirked. No he wasn't.

Maybe the reason that you were so happy with you new life was because of Tim. Tim Drake had been the one to convince you to change homes, and the one to wiggle his way in to mend your broken heart. He had stood by your side through thick and thin, doing everything in his power to make you feel better.

Along the way, he had also gotten you to fall in love with him. Dick was out of your mind, every thought now consumed by Tim. The first year you were there, it was incredible to see such a change within you. Everyone saw it - Bart making the most fun of your growing feelings for Tim. Feelings that you denied for a very long time.

Everyone could see how hopelessly in love you were with each other. You hadn't been able to believe if for a long time. Tim was your friend, your partner - not a lover. There was no way that you saw him like that, right? You had never been so wrong in your entire life.

Maybe these feelings for Tim had always been there. Maybe you were just too busy following Dick around that you didn't have the time to realize it. Or maybe he had brought out a side of him that you hadn't realized existed. You saw him differently than you had when he was Robin.

It was one night that the two of you were alone in the tower - a first since you had been there - that had gotten you to admit your feelings. The night was calm and you guys took the opportunity to play a movie on the big screen. Unfortunately for you, the whole movie you had been consumed with the idea of kissing him.

A perfectly timed sex scene had given you a strange amount of courage. You couldn't take this tension with him anymore. So, you had nearly leaped on top of him, pressing your lips against his. Tim didn't hesitate to react to it, kissing you back and pulling you onto his lap. You straddled him, fingers threading through his hair as he desperately tried to peel your clothes off.

After a very embarrassing, almost naked, confrontation with your teammates that had suddenly arrived, you and Tim became inseparable. Several months of dating and you knew that you had made the right choice with him. Tim cared about you in ways that you never thought a man would do for you.

"Yeah, yeah," You waved him off. Your face was finally going back to normal as the blood flow balancing out. "There's a lot of ways you could make it up to me, you know?" You grinned, hands trailing up his bare chest.

"Oh yeah?" Tim placed his hands on your hips, pulling you completely flush against him. He trailed soft kisses up your neck, eager to hear what you were thinking. "What'd you have in mind?"

Suddenly, your foot hooked into his ankles and you pulled his legs out from right under him. Tim groaned as his back painfully hit the training mat and a disappointed look filled his eyes. "Buying me lunch."

Tim didn't let you get very far. He pulled the same move as you did and brought you down on the mat. Tim trapped you beneath him, his legs on either side of yours and hands by your shoulders. You could get out if you so wished - but you didn't.

You were thankful he let your hands free. You placed them on either side of his face and pulled him down so you could connect your lips. There were many times that you would be in the training room, Tim convincing you to make out and every time someone would walk in. This time you felt dangerously brave.

Tim gasped as your hands trailed down his chest and towards his shorts. "You really want to risk that right now?" He asked between kisses. You responded without words, and instead adding pressure to your hold. Tim groaned into your neck, there was no way that he could say no to you.

"Tim!"

You had never seen your boyfriend jump off of you so quickly before. The voice hadn't belonged to any of your teammates and the tone of it wasn't scolding, it was excited. Whoever it was, obviously hadn't fully seen what had been going on. You should have expected that you wouldn't get what you wanted.

"(Y/N)?" Dick Grayson faltered in his spot. It was the first time that he had seen you since he had let you down. Nearly two years without seeing how much you had grown. He had heard that you had moved into the tower, but it had been a long time since you had gone home to Gotham.

Tim went without you, working with Bruce for a few cases here and there. No one had visited the tower while you were there and you had to admit that you were thankful for it. Leaving your past behind - besides Tim - it was refreshing. Seeing Dick again had brought back a tug in your heart that you thought was long gone.

"Dick," You half smiled. His hair was shorter than last time you had seen him. Muscles more defined than ever. The bags under his eyes were worse but his smile was still the exact same. Dick hadn't expected you to be with Tim, not romantically. You never seemed interested in him growing up.

Your breathing caught in your throat. After seeing him for the first time in a long time, you didn't realize the wave of emotions that would come. You were confused by everything flooding your brain - hope, guilt, desire, even anger.

"You look great," he complimented, bringing you in for a hug. It was true. You had grown a lot in these two years. Different hair, more fit than you ever been in your life. Being on this team had done you good in more ways than one.

"What're you doing here?" Tim asked. Dick stared as you interlocked hands with your boyfriend.

"I'm, uh, taking Kori's place as team leader for a little while," Dick explained. Kori had mentioned before that she was going to need to take some time away. She never said what for or when, but she must have had to leave sooner than anticipated. "You guys are together?"

"Yep," your voice strained. You never imagined that this reunion would be so tense. It was easier to see Dick right after he had let you down than it was now. For some reason, his appearance had created a tension. You weren't sure if it was from you, or if Tim was suddenly jealous of his older brother, or Dick was just uncomfortable with it all.

"Congrats," Dick nodded. He awkwardly scratched the back of his head. A sudden noise came from outside the room. "I'm gonna go see everyone else I guess. See you later tonight?" You and Tim both nodded in sync. It seemed like the moment that he stepped out of the room, you both let out a breath of air.

"That was weird, right?" You asked, staring at the door that Dick left from rather than up at Tim. You couldn't have been the only one to find that whole confrontation painful. Tim nodded in agreement. His jaw was tight and he glared at the door Dick just left from. "Wait a second, you're not jealous of Dick, are you?"

"No!" Tim defended. Unfortunately for him, you could tell that he was lying. "He was your first love! It's only been two years since he told you he didn't feel the same way. Besides, you didn't see the way he was looking at you. I just..." He trailed off, unsure if he was willing to say what was on his mind.

"You're worried I still have feelings for him," You finished. Tim wearily nodded. You placed your hands at the base of his neck, thumb brushing against his jawline. Tim was forced to look you in your eyes, as much as he didn't want to at this moment. "I love you, Tim. Only you. You have nothing to worry about."

You pulled him down for another kiss. Tim finally melted into your hold. He knew that you loved him, genuinely. However, it was still hard to have Dick be living in the same home as you once again. He felt childish for being jealous for no reason. Dick had already stated that he didn't have feelings for you - he didn't need to worry now.

At least he hoped.

Apparently Tim did have something to worry about - and it wasn't you.

Dick's time in the tower extended longer than he imagined it too. He was only supposed to be there for a week or two, now it had been nearly a month. While it was nice to have him around, especially on missions, Tim was eager for his brother to leave them again. He hated when the two of you spent time together.

Maybe it was just him being jealous, maybe he was paranoid. Either way, whenever it was the two of you alone, Tim got antsy. Kon was the first to notice. He assured his best friend that he had nothing to worry about - as far as his Kryptonian sense could tell, you didn't have any feelings for Dick.

Tim found himself spending more nights in your room, keeping you in bed longer than he normally would in the mornings. He even held hands with you more often; you had enjoyed his affection, even though you knew where it had stemmed from.

It was an afternoon of training did he finally have enough. Dick was using you as a partner to show off some new moves for all the team to learn. The two of you danced around the mat, anticipation running high. You were both drenched in sweat, breathing heavy from your previous spar.

"Come on, Big Bird," You taunted. Dick hated that name, it only reminded him of Sesame Street. He hadn't heard that name in a long time - not since he had seen you last. For some reason, it had caught him off guard enough for you to make your strike. Dick reoriented himself rather quickly.

Instead of you taking him down, he had roughly slammed you to the floor. Dick hovered over you, eyes soft as he met yours. Ever since he had been back with you in the tower, there was something eating him alive. Guilt? Shame? He tried to blame his feelings on those but he knew what it was: regret.

Dick regretted letting you go all those years ago. When he was asked to take over the Titans Tower, he was excited to see you. In two short years he had hoped that you hadn't moved on. Not seeing you nearly every day left a hole in his chest and he didn't realize what it was until seeing you again.

Upon realizing that you were with Tim, he felt his heart crack. Of course he had lost his chance with you - and it was no one to blame but himself. Dick pushed you away because he thought you to be too young, when in reality he was just scared of hurting you.

"Dick!" Tim's voice echoed throughout the training room. There was a harsh tone to it, full of jealousy and frustration. It had broken him out of his trance. Dick hadn't realized just how long he had been pinning you down. You tried to wiggle out of his grasp but he was far too strong to get of without hurting him. He had been completely lost in thought being that close to you again.

He shook his head to rid those thoughts, thoughts of you. Dick pushed himself up off the ground and stuck his hand out for you to grab. You didn't take it. Instead, you moved back to Tim's side. He instantly swooped down to kiss your lips. Dick knew what Tim was doing - he was being possessive of you. It was easy to notice with the glare that followed.

"That's it for today," Dick announced. He left the training room, followed by the rest of your team. It was only Tim, Bart, and Cassie that knew about your history with Dick. Bart and Cass both gave you a weary look as they walked by you. For once, you felt uncomfortable under their gaze.

Finally, it was just you and Tim left. He stared at the floor, thoughts running through his head and keeping him in this trance. What was Dick thinking? Why was he acting like that? Like he regretted his choice with you? He was beyond angered at his brother for looking at you like he was.

You grabbed both of his hands, staring up at him as if he was the only thing that mattered in this world. Tim's gaze where Dick hovered of you wouldn't falter - and sadly you had known exactly what he was thinking. Dick was a ladies man, he knew how to flirt his way through everything and he certainly knew how to flirt with you.

If there was one person in this world that could convince you to leave Tim, it was Dick. He was the one to have your heart first, not Tim.

"Babe," you finally spoke. Your hands slid up his arms until cupping his face. Tim finally met your eyes with a broken look. "I love you, and only you. I need you to know that."

"I do," he whispered. It sounded as if he didn't believe himself, and in some ways, he didn't. All his life he grew up wondering how Dick got women so easily. Now, as soon as he finally gets you, Dick comes back with god knows what intentions. "I love you, too."

"Big Belly Burger?" You offered. Tim hinted at a smile, somehow you always managed to make a dark room light.

"You're buying."

You had managed to avoid Dick for the rest of the week. Patrol was exclusively with Tim, training you were paired with Cassie, even at dinner you would sit as far as possible from him. Whether it was because you were good at avoiding him, or if he was putting in the effort as well, you didn't mind the space.

It was your teammates that would catch Dick glancing at you at random points in the day. No one would ever say anything about it, but they all knew that something was going on between the two of you - or something had gone on. In all your time there, it seemed like Tim was the only one on your mind, they didn't think Dick had an important role as well.

It wasn't until the end of the week did Dick corner you. It was late at night, Tim was asleep in your bed and the others were all in their rooms. You found yourself in the kitchen for a late night snack and some tea. One of the few times that you were alone, he knew that he needed to talk to you and set things straight.

"(Y/N)," Dick startled you. Your back was towards him and the sound of his voice had caused you to jump - along with spill boiling hot tea on your hand. "Shit, sorry," he apologized. Dick ran cold water on the tap and gestured for you to put your hand under. Instead, you turned the water off and dried your warm skin.

You didn't want his help.

"What do you need, Dick?" You asked. Tired bags were under your eyes as you looked to him. What he had done at the start of the week had been keeping you up all night.

"I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry," Dick began. "I'm sorry for hurting you all those years ago, I'm sorry for the other day, I'm sorry for not realizing your feelings sooner... and mine. I didn't realize how much I cared about you until seeing you again, or I guess seeing you with Tim. I know that I'm a day late and a dollar short, but I needed to tell you."

"Tell me what?"

"Tell you that I love you," Dick revealed. His arms were crossed over his chest and he avoided your gaze. It took him two years to realize his mistake of missing out on you and he regretted it. He wished that he hadn't been so ridiculous to think your age mattered - now when in the grand scheme of things it wasn't even a big age gap.

Your breathing stopped for a second. Two years ago you would have been ecstatic to hear those words come from his mouth. That was all you wanted to hear from him. Now, now the words sent a chill down your spine and left you with a dry mouth. You didn't want to hear that from him anymore.

The grip on your mug tightened until you swore the ceramic was going to crack. You let out a huff of air, frustrated with his words. Why was he telling you this now? To ruin your relationship with Tim? To win your heart back? You loved Tim, and that was the end of the story. Dick was your friend, that was all.

"I think it's time you head back to Bludhaven, Dick," You met his eyes once more. The team would do fine without him or Kori for a few more days. Right now, you just wanted him gone. You didn't want to have to look Dick in the eyes knowing that he loved you and you no longer felt the same way.

The distance apart had done wonders on you, now he needed to do the same. Forget about you, find someone else. You wanted Dick to be happy, to be in love. He was still basically your family, you always wanted what was best for him. Being around you after this revelation? That was far from what was best.

"I'm sorry," Dick apologized once more.

"So am I," you placed a hand on his shoulder as you walked by. You paused at the doorway, debating whether or not to tell him that you wished him all the best. In the end, you decided against it and walked back towards your room.

Tim was still asleep in your bed. His back was exposed and the covers were down to his waist. Snores filled the silent room, muffled by the pillow that he was hugging. This was the love of your life. You were always meant to be with Tim, never Dick. It might have taken you over half a decade to realize it, but it was well worth the wait.

The mug of tea that you had made for yourself was set on your desk and long forgotten. Instead, you slipped into bed with Tim, who stirred at your appearance. The pillow he was hugging was replaced with you and he snuggled into the crook of your neck. Tim sleepily left a kiss against your skin, too tired to fully wake.

"I love you, Timmy. More than anyone," You whispered. He was already back asleep, unaware of the words you spoke. Unaware of the conversation that you had with Dick. It was best that he didn't know. You and Dick were adults, there was no childish rivalry needed. You didn't want to be the one to ruin a brotherly relationship.

Tim had you, that was all that mattered.

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yanderecandystore · 4 years ago

Note

can we get the bullies with a male slasher s/o?

I swear like-

I swear I already did something like this?? But maybe no??¿? XD

So anyway- Alright boo, let me see what I can do- Sorry but I decided to take liberty and… Make this one be very stupid XD

TW/Tags: killer reader :3 // mentions of death // mentions of h o r n i n e s s // I have no like- Idea how to make this work so- Let's just go with it lol // low-key based on dbd, although I never played the game I know only a bit about it- // REALLY silly :P

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Horror Movies Cliches [Yandere!Bully OCS x M!Slasher!Reader - Headcanon]:

🎇 Let me set the stage for a quick sec!🎇

Let's just create a bit of context- Imagine the most over the top horror movie cliche you can think off- Some teens, hanging around a haunted place, everyone is organizing a creepy party while also trying to prank one another. The twins are part of this party because duh- They're popular? Rich? Pretty af? Everyone wants a piece of them tonight, especially you.

Although technically, not in the same way the horny bastards around here want to. While some are trying to impress them, and others try to prank them and humiliate them for at least once in their lives- You're looking for something more, well, important. You were done with being the one left behind, always ridiculed by the twins and their mob of "friends".

You wanted nothing more than sweet revenge tonight, and it didn't matter which rich asshole's blood would be spilled tonight- And even if your plan wasn't exactly foolproof, you were still going to go down and smash their skulls.

With a mask covering your face, gloves to cover your fingerprints and a baseball bat- You were ready for your first hunt tonight. What could ever stop you if not God itself?

Maybe you didn't calculate all possibilities of what could go wrong today, perhaps you should have considered that you weren't the only one bloodlusty in this party.

→ Adrien Coldwell:

Adrien is not really a- Adrien is-

What can I say about Adrien? Adrien is not the best at survival, or trying to survive, or wanting to survive-

Adrien is too lazy for this- He doesn't really put an effort in trying to hide himself, since he is sold 100% that this is just another prank. The only thing stopping you from finding him and smashing his bones is his natural luck which is conveniently protecting himself from being found.

God, this party is boring.

You would probably find Adrien by accident, just- Eating some snacks as all the other participants of the party were already dead. However- You weren't so lucky when you tried killing him right there, he ran away before you could grab him.

Now noticing how real the situation was, he was ready to find any means of communication to call for help, but it seems like all possible means of easy and quick communication has been cut off.

Adrien can either hide and pray for someone to come help him, or try to fight you off and stop you from hunting him. And of course he ain't fucking attacking you, what do you take him for?? Insane?? Dumb?? Nah bitch, he is hiding.

Up until this point, Adrien had no idea you were the one behind the mask. He thought you were a random creep that went insane and decided to take his anger out on some rich people- Which could mean he is half right and half wrong!

But honestly though, you're the last person that he imagined being capable of killing so many people in one night! He didn't even know you were invited to this party, which makes this so unfortunate to him, he could be wearing a cuter outfit if he knew you would be here!

One would assume that after showing their true identities to their victims before their death would cause their victims to become even more frightened and beg for mercy!- In your case though? Nah, that ain't happening.

Adrien is treating this situation with much seriousness as one would imagine he would- With none. Knowing that you're the one killing everyone with a bat is kinda pathetic if not hilarious to him.

After all, it's just "you". What evil can you do? Honestly, you came all the way to this place to make him "pay for his actions"?? Don't you have anything better to do on a Saturday night, honey?

To be fair- He kinda digs the "unhinged maniac" look you have going on, blood suits you so well. Hell! He bet it would suit him just as well too.

Your night was supposed to be one of pure gore and carnage, revenge against those that have harmed you- Yet here you are, being flirted with by Adrien, who is getting a little too into the "killer x victim" dynamic going on.

Ugh, you don't feel in the mood anymore… It feels so wrong when he keeps flirting about it.

In the end, you two have inverted the roles in a way. You were trying to get away from Adrien who was chasing you and making you embarrassed with as much flirting as possible.

Such an unfortunate night.

→ Alexandra Coldwell:

Alexandra would think this is all an elaborate spooky prank, yet she would be lying if she said she didn't find this all…. A bit too much.

No, s-she isn't scared! Just frustrated that this party sucks! It's so immature to just- Try to humiliate her by making her scared! Is such a low move.

Alexandra wouldn't do much effort into hiding since she doesn't think there is any danger nearby. You would have found her very early on, and you can imagine how frustrating it was to see her escaping from your grasp- You have forgotten how athletic Alexandra is, of course she would have ran away faster than you could snatch her.

Now noticing how real the situation was, she was ready to find any means of communication to call for help, but it seems like all possible means of easy and quick communication has been cut off.

Alexandra can either hide and pray for someone to come help her, or try to fight you off and stop you from hunting her. And of course she'll be fighting you- Pfft, what? You think she'll chicken out?? You literally made her break her nail- You psycho!

Up until this point, Alexandra didn't know you were- Well, you! She thought you were some random ass psycho trying to ruin some teens party for some "revenge" bs. So maybe she was half right, and half wrong!

Alexandra would have never ever imagined that you were the killer! Were you even invited to the party?? Why has nobody told her? She could have chosen something more cute for you, damnit!

Alexandra just laughs it off and treats it like every school day- Belittling you while all's giving mix signals of affection.

She isn't afraid anymore, why would she? You're just a little wimp who thinks that getting a wooden bat and dark clothes makes you scary. Dearest, you have forgotten who is the bigger dog around here-

You wasted your whole night just to make her terrified? Honestly, you need a better hobby- Obsessing over your bully is such a loser move on your part, although she would be lying if she said she doesn't appreciate the fact you care so much about her.

Alexandra was getting a little too interested into this "roleplay" going on- Wanting to be your final girl, after all it didn't sound half as bad. Maybe she has been a little too into those slasher fanfics she has been finding around- But damn, you look almost acceptable while drenched in blood.

Her lack of care or empathy towards those who have been brutally killed, while also drooling over you, reminds you that- Honestly? Fuck this. You should have expected a Coldwell to be a morally fucked up person- Why are you surprised?

You've been trying your best to go back home, but being constantly followed by an overly affectionate Alexandra is just as bad as being humiliated by an overly sadistic Alexandra. You got no rest that day.

Such an unfortunate night.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

#yandere #sheep's stuff #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere twins #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc headcanon #yandere x male reader #yandere bully #yandere bully x male reader #yandere bully x reader #yandere bully x killer reader #killer reader #male reader #special delivery headcanons #special delivery request

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problematicfavesareproblematic · 5 years ago

Text

You Can Just Stay (Under This Weight)

Joe Toye x Reader One Shot

Requested?: lol nah fam. I’m just a sucker for soft intimacy in the middle of violent conflicts

Warnings: potty words, a messy attempt at describing hair brushing, a most likely shoddily written Joe Toye, like a skosh of angst, 90% just wish fulfillment and fluff (sorry)

Ya girl listened to Lullaby by Mary Glenn while writing this nonsense, a perfect song to sway to alone in the dark (but like in a dreamy/fun way?)

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

With a final grunt of frustration, you threw the paddle of your broken hairbrush across the room, causing Perconte, Bill, Luz, and Joe Toye to startle as it clacked loudly to the ground.

“Gees, Y/N,” Bill snapped, hand on his chest as if he could manually slow down his racing heart. “Don’t do that shit- fucking thought we were under attack—”

You didn’t bother to listen to the complaining sounds of upset coming from the men sitting to your left, snatching up your gun and bag before storming out of the room and heading towards the bedroom you and Joe had been assigned to for the night.

Part of you felt bad for scaring your friends by your childish outburst. The logical part of you knew that throwing your broken hairbrush had been unnecessary and needlessly disruptive and loud.

But the other part of you- the part that was sick of feeling like a goddamned invalid since you’d been shot in the hand?

Well, that part of you wanted to cause much more destruction than that.

When you got to the room dropped your stuff unceremoniously to the ground and grimaced at how loud that was, too.

The whole thing was ridiculous, and if you weren’t so frustrated with yourself you probably could’ve kept your immaturity in check.

But, after catching a stray bullet through some of the meat of your right hand from some ammo-wasting sham of a shooting competition between some drunk NCOs, you had found yourself in a bad mood that not even Luz and Liebgott could shake you from.

You were a sniper, your whole life was tied to your right hand and it’s steadiness in the field. Having that taken away, even for a little while, just served to remind you that that was about the only thing you were good for:

Shooting, reloading, firing.

Without your gun, you were just another mouth for the mess officers to feed.

Just a stupid woman, in the way of the ‘big, brave men’ of the Airborne.

Looking down at your bandaged hand, you sighed with defeat.

Roe had already been on your case about taking it easy, adamant that you shouldn’t push yourself lest risk further injury.

But tonight, you hadn’t even attempted to do anything high risk.

All you’d tried to do was brush your hair- something you had been attempting (and ultimately failing) to do for the past four weeks. Tonight you’d finally managed to get your hair out of it’s matted braid, your left hand managing to finger comb the three knotted sections apart with limited assistance from your right.

The moment you had tried to detangle the mess you’d realized you were going to need to utilize your right hand more. Of course, when it became painfully clear that your hand wasn’t yet up to the task of even holding on to the ratty ends of your hair, you’d allowed all of the frustration to boil over- lashing out like some toddler being denied their juvenile demand.

Now you were stuck with your tangled hair hanging around your face, unable to either brush or rebraid it.

You hadn’t realized that someone had come in until you hear the click of the door as it closes, and when you whip your head around you realize that you’ve started to cry.

“What?” you asked harshly, voice softening at the last moment when you came face to face with Joe Toye.

He had an uncomfortable look on his face, and quickly you brought your left hand up to wipe the evidence of your tears away.

“Oh, sorry Joe,” you muttered, sniffing pathetically before clearing your throat and moving towards the spot on the floor you’d claimed earlier to be your bed for the night. “I'll get out of your way—”

“Y/N”

When you turned back to look at him you saw him holding up the still-surviving paddle of your hairbrush, a tight smile on his lips.

You grimace, looking away for a moment before meeting his gaze once more.

“Great, thanks….”

When you step closer to reach for it he hesitates, moving the brush infinitesimally away from your reach and looking at you worriedly.

“Are you okay?” He asks, and when you open your mouth to dismiss his concerns he furrows his brows and shakes his head. “And don’t tell me you’re okay or fine or whatever you were gonna say, because I know it’s bullshit.”

You scoff, chest feeling tight. “Joe—”

He gives you an exasperated look, crossing his arms across his chest and peering down his nose at you.

Great, the Toye Staredown. As if i didn’t already feel like a petulant child…..

“I’ve known you for two goddamn years Y/L/N. I may be stupid but I’m not an idiot.”

Holding his glare, you sigh heavily and wipe at your runny nose.

“If anyone in thisroom deserves to be called a stupid idiot, I think I’m the more fitting candidate.”

Joe’s glare turns into a look of concern. One of the things he’d first loved about you was your quick wit and your refusal to bend under his good-natured ribbing.

Seeing you look so defeated scared him.

When you made to poinch the bridge of your nose, Joe stepped in and caught your elbow. At first you were confused until you realized that you’d been about to use your right hand.

You bark a humorless laugh, letting your head loll back in rueful amusement.

“For fuck’s sake….”

Rough hands find your cheeks and tilt your face back so you’re looking at him again, and he murmurs something under his breath when he sees tears reforming in your eyes.

“What’s going on, huh? Talk to me, Y/N/N—”

“I’m useless.”

Like some dam bursting, you find yourself weepily confessing how useless you feel you’ve become, how you were questioning everything you’d once assumed to be true about yourself.

How horribly painful it was to hear about the replacements who were dying in your place while you were being kept in the relative safety of the XO camp.

To his credit, Joe didn’t interrupt you once.

He’d listened as attentively as he would during a mission objective briefing, emitting a small tsking sound whenever your voice broke with a fresh wave of tears. Through your senseless babbling, you realized that this was the longest you’d ever seen him go without interrupting someone.

You hadn’t been able to mask your embarrassed scoff when you admitted why you’d lost your cool earlier, face hot with more than just shame.

When you’d finally stopped, Joe had nodded and taken a deep breath.

“What can I do?”

Closing your eyes, you shake your head. “No, no, no! Joe- that’s not why….I don’t expect you to do anything—”

His thumbs wipe at the tear tracks under your eyes before he whispers your name and cuts you off, quietly telling you to look at him.

Joe’s gaze is unbearably soft, more gentle than you’ve ever seen it.

“Go sit down.”

You furrow your brows, but when you go to ask what he was planning he takes one of his hands away from your face to point towards the pile of blankets the two of you had gathered earlier.

“Drink water while you’re at it, you’ll give yourself a headache.”

Aah, there he is. There’s the Mama Toye I remember from Toccoa.

When he gave you a look that made it clear that he wasn’t going to take no for an answer, you sigh and walk over to where he’d directed you and sit heavily in the pile of blankets.

You sip from your canteen as you watch Joe shrug off his overcoat and pull off his knit cap. You couldn’t help but smile as he finger combed his dark hair back into place, finding yourself admiring how handsome he looked with it slightly overgrown and smoothed away from his handsome face.

Ever since he’d kissed you in the middle of the Eindhoven liberation celebration, you couldn't deny that things between the two of you had ….changed.

Nothing had been established, nor had either of you spoken about it. Yet there was certainly a closeness that existed where there hadn’t been before- a sort of mutually understood agreement that you’d pair up for patrols and eat meals together.

Each night Joe would ensure that you slept by his side, and by morning you always woke up with him curled around you protectively. If the others noticed, they made no mention of it- which, considering Joe Toye’s fiery temper, was probably more for their sake than for yours.

And even if they did, you got the feeling Joe wouldn’t change a thing.

He catches you watching him and smirks, shooting you a wink as he strides over confidently.

“At least buy a guy dinner first before eye-fucking him like that….”

You shot him a glare that only served to make him grin wider. “Thanks Joe, I’ll try to rein it in.”

He snorted a laugh as he came to sit behind you, his right leg kicked out beside yours while he scooted closer.

You turn to look at him curiously over your shoulder, unable to stop your cheeks from heating up when you see that he’s got your hairbrush in his hand.

“Uh, what’re you doing back there, Joseph?”

He leans to the side a bit so you don’t have to strain as hard to look at him, mirroring your curious expression.

“What does it look like? I’m gonna tame this rat’s nest you’ve been growing for the past month.”

You blush in earnest at that, mouth going dry when he picks up a knotted tendril and brings your brush to the ends.

With a gentleness that you hadn’t expected, he dutifully begins to patiently detangle the strands, pinching the hair’s shaft to ensure you don’t feel any tugging or snags.

Well…..This certainly was not how i thought things were going to go down tonight….

After sitting in stunned silence for far too long, you finally will yourself to speak.

“Uhh, you’re brushing my hair.”

He hums. “That’s right. Good observation.”

“But….you are doing it, um, well?”

“Wow, you shoulda been in intelligence- nothing gets past you.”

You huff at his snark and shoot him a baleful look.

“Joseph.”

His dark eyes meet yours with a slightly inpatient glint in them.

“Are you going to let me do something nice for you, or are you going to overthink and fight about it?”

Before you can respond he’s resumed his gentle brushing, and with another deep sigh you resign yourself to your fate.

It wasn’t as if you didn’t like it, or that you didn’t whole-heartedly appreciate Joe’s kindness- in fact, you were beginning to get anxious that you may enjoy it too much.

It’s just….you couldn't remember the last time someone had touched your hair, let alone brush it for you. Maybe childhood….? Certainly long before Toccoa. It felt so intimate now- nearly as intimate as that kiss you’d shared.

And, if you weren’t mistaken- Joe seemed to be aware of the intimacy as well.

Every so often his eyes would find yours and he’d look at you warmly, the small smile on his lips growing whenever you unintentionally shuddered as the brush scratched deliciously across your scalp.

When he finished brushing your hair out, he surprised you further by instantly beginning to resection your hair and french braid it.

“How did you….how long have you known how to braid?”

He chuckled at that, bringing a hand up to turn your head away from him before continuing to twist and weave your hair into what you suspected to be a pretty adequate braid.

“Well, i may or may not have figured it out while sitting behind you during lectures back in Toccoa, but don’t —”

“What—?!”

“....get weird about it….” he sighs, holding his hand over your shoulder palm up and wiggling his fingers impatiently until you gave him a hair tie. He wrapped the elastic around the ends before smoothing his hand down the braid, allowing his hand to drift to your shoulder so he can knead into the tense muscle.

The moan you emit is near pornographic, and a laugh catches in your throat when Joe curses under his breath like you’ve punched him.

“That feel good, Y/N?” he teases good-naturedly, but simultaneously brought his other hand up to massage at the other shoulder and made you groan again.

“Don’t know, ask me again in five minutes.”

The two of you chuckle before falling into a comfortable silence, the only sound being your quiet sighs of pleasure and his echoing hums of confirmation.

After about ten minutes of having his hands exploring your upper back you hesitantly sat back slightly so you could lean into the strong plane of his chest.

“Joe, thank you.” your voice is slow and heavy, and you feel more relaxed than you imagined possible considering the circumstances that brought you two together in the first place. “I….you are nicer to me than i deserve—”

He snorted at that, wrapping his arms around you and resting his cheek atop your head. “Shut up and let me enjoy this. It’s been too long since it was just us….”

You blush at that, glad he can’t see your face as you smile privately.

“Didn’t know you, uh, wanted there to be time with ‘just us’.”

Joe moved his hold on you so he could look down at you, a look of amused confusion on his face.

“What’re you talkin’ about? Course I do. You think I would follow you ‘round like a goddamn lovesick dog if I didn’t at least enjoy your company a little bit?”

You feel a dumb smile cross your face, and before you can reply he pinches your chin lightly and angles your face up a bit more so he can kiss you soundly on the lips.

Just like the last time, everything around you seems to fade into insignificance, and all you can hear and smell and feel and taste is Joe Toye. You part your lips and deepen the kiss, carefully moving your injured hand up and over his shoulder so you can wrap your arm around his shoulders.

With a happy hum, Joe nibbles on your bottom lip and smiles.

“I’ll take this as a good sign, as far as the kissing is concerned?” he half asked, moving to twist your bodies so he’s leaning over you while simultaneously laying you down softly against the blankets.

You took a deep breath, looking up at him with so much love and affection it makes your chest ache.

“How observant you are, Mr. Toye. Should’ve been an intelligence officer.”

The look he gives you is wicked, and when he ducks down to kiss your cheek he lets his lips linger at your ear. “Maybe you’ll let me show you all the other things I’m really good at sometime, huh?”

Letting the fingers of your uninjured hand bury themselves in his dark locks, you croon a warm affirmation.

“Oh, you can count on that, handsome. Just wait till I get the okay to use my other hand, I’ll return the favor.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“Or you could hold me now—”

He cuts you off with another overwhelming kiss that promised so much more.

“Ma’am….you’ve got yourself a deal.”

~ ~ ~ ~~ TAG LIST: @mrseasycompany @itswormtrain @mrsalwayswrite

Per usual, thank you so much for reading my mess! Let me know if you wanna be tagged, or if you’ve got any requests (barring Perconte and Sobel)

#band of brothers imagines #band of brothers x reader #joe toye x reader #joseph toye x reader #toye x reader

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fandomlovingfreak · 4 years ago

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Take Two (1/?)

Fred Weasley/Reader

Rating: E for everyone

MasterList Link I AO3 Link I Wattpad Link

Summary: Quidditch rivalries can cause tension between the houses but nothing is like the rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Fred Weasley and (y/n) take Quidditch rivalries just a bit too seriously.

Disclaimer: Fred Weasley (George Weasley, any of the Weasley Characters, Harry Potter etc) is a character from Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling. I don’t own Harry Potter or any of it’s characters, and I do not profit financially from any of my posts. (This is a transformative fair use work in accordance with Section 107 of the United States Copyright Act.)

Notes: Sorry for being the queen of trying to juggle multiple series at one time. I just get excited aha! Also, so excited to start a Fred series!

Enjoy

"That was a bad call, and you know it!" Fred Weasley lands nearby me. He looks furious, his freckles nearly disappearing under the redness of his face.

"So what if it was? We still won! Get over it, Weasley." I'm prepared for him to drop it and sulk off into the locker rooms, not come closer to my face to continue the argument.

"Can hardly call it a win when you didn't deserve it."

I glare at him. Who the fuck did he think he was? Deserve it? We bloody well deserved it. "Deserve? Don't you talk to me about deserving anything, Weasley. Gryffindor's get special treatment constantly because of Potter. We won this game. Get over it." I amplify my final words with a poke to his chest.

"Oh please," he's gotten even closer to my face. His normally amused features are marred with rage, "Don't start that sob story with me (y/l/n). You Slytherin's are all the same."

I've never liked Fred Weasley, but right now, I think I completely loathe him. "Yeah? We're all the same? What the fuck does that mean? Are you implying something?"

He snorts, "You know exactly what I'm implying, (y/l/n). Thought you were smart and wouldn't need me to spell it out for ya."

"You're an ass. What do you gain from this? Proving that your team is a bunch of sore losers?" I take a step towards him, completely inflamed with anger now. If I had my bloody wand, I'd hex his sorry ass into next week. I've never been a fan of Gryffindor's infamous pranksters, finding them to be completely immature.

"Maybe if you and yours didn't cheat--"

"Cheat?" my voice almost squeaks from the amount of outrage I feel at this accusation, "You're so incredibly thick-skulled, Fred Weasley! What do you want? To fight me? Duel me? You'd find yourself on your sorry ass before you could best me!"

"Lucky for you, (y/l/n), I don't hit girls." He says with one of those obnoxious Fred Weasley smirks.

"Unfortunately for you, Frederick, I do." Our teammates all collectively 'oo' impressed with the quip. I can't help but grin as his face burns wildly as he steps back. Fred turns on his heel, walking away towards the locker rooms without another word with George and the other Gryffindor’s trailing behind him. Yes! I beat him at his own game for once.

My teammates all clapped me on the shoulder, laughing at Fred and congratulating me over shutting him down.

"You really got him that time (y/n)," Adrian laughs with the rest of the team.

"I did, didn't I?" I grin at my teammates, "Great game, guys."

"It was, but that little spat was the highlight of my game." Graham grins, placing his arm around my shoulder. I shrug him off, not in the mood to combat his bothersome "flirty" behavior.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm glad I'm here for all of your entertainment." I grin at the rest of the team, "I'll be in the locker room. We're throwing some sort of celebration in the common room, right?" They all nod, talking animatedly about the liquor one of them has stashed away for this sort of moment. I turn, ready to take a scorching hot and relaxing shower. The thought of the deliciously warm water running over my body has me rushing towards the locker room. I deserved this.

***

Freshly washed and completely relaxed, I find my way back to the Slytherin Common room, where the party has already begun. Some of my housemates are already moderately drunk. I suspect the culprit of this is a flask (or three) being passed around the Slytherins in the stands during the game.

Some fourth year hands me a glass of an unidentifiable liquid with a quick, "congratulations (y/n). Saw you really give it to Weasley after the game." I laugh, throwing back the contents of the glass. Whatever was in the glass burns deliciously as it rushes down my throat. It's got a slight cherry taste that sticks around a few moments before dispersing on my tongue.

"You were amazing!" My best friend Carina wraps me in her arms, her dark brown hair tickling at my nose

"Ya think?"

"Duh! I knew you'd beat rotten Gryffindor easily." The smell of liquor is strong with her standing so close.

I laugh, "It was hardly an easy win. They are a good team."

"But Slytherin--" she giggles, "is better."

I roll my eyes, "Obviously."

"And that obnoxious Weasley boy! He had the nerve to fight you?"

"We only argued. Is there a rumor I fought Fred already?"

She pouts, "I heard you fought him! Now I'm disappointed."

I can't help but shake my head at my intoxicated friend's shenanigans, "You're disappointed I wasn't expelled for fighting on school grounds over a quidditch match?"

"You would've got detention, not expelled." she waves her hand around like this is the most obvious thing.

"I think you've had a bit too much, dear." I lead her towards the large couch in the center of the room.

"I feel fine! Tell me about the argument." She pats the spot next to her on the couch. I tell her everything, about how Fred got so damn close to me and all the things he said about Slytherin and the game.

"He so fancies you," her head lolls on the back of the couch.

I recoil from my friend, "what? Hardly. I'd say he hates me more than anything. And besides, I can't stand him. I hardly want him harboring--feelings for me."

She giggles, "It doesn't matter what you want. He's always picking fights with you. Why would he if it weren't for some silly crush? Fred Weasley never loses his cool unless you're involved."

I pull a disgusted face, "You're drunk, and that's not true. I'm sure he's a complete spaz with others. We're just not there to witness those instances."

Carina rolls her eyes, "sure. If you say so, (y/n)."

I try to change the subject because, honestly, I'm bothered by this one, "I'm gonna get something to drink. You want something?"

Carina pulls out a flask from Merlin knows where. "I'm good!" She presses the little black flask against her lips, taking another pull.

"Brilliant," I leave my friend to her flask in search of something strong. I'm in desperate need of something that'll make me forget and push away the embarrassment from that conversation. Maybe I can find Adrian and see if he's free for a moment. I could use a distraction from the excitement with Fred.

I'll admit it isn't wise to go to a teammate to fool around. Actually, it felt too weird most of the time. But, alcohol has that fantastic effect of making poor decisions seem much better at the moment. I can blame the booze once again.

I spot Adrian leaning against the wall, a pool of third-year girls surrounding him. His excessive peacocking is downright embarrassing at this point. Adrian not so subtly puffs his chest out as he flirts with the younger girls, who eagerly soak in the attention from the older boy. He hands me a bottle of something, and I take a pull before leaning towards him. In a low voice, I ask, "are you free later?"

Adrian's eyebrows shoot up before he's smirking. His arm wraps around my waist, clutching at the meat of my hip, "Always for you."

***

Adrian's got his lips on my neck, his hands roam my body.

"Don't leave any marks," my fingers pull at the roots of his black hair.

"I know," he mutters against my skin before he pulls my sweater over my head. He kisses me with just a bit too much tongue. I don't hate hooking up with Adrian, but he's a bit of a clumsy lover at times.

I pull him into the broom closet, wanting the relief of release as soon as possible.

"Eager?" He smirks.

I want to roll my eyes, "Yup." I pull at his belt, unbuckling it quickly.

#Fred Weasley #Fred Weasley/reader #Fred Weasley x reader #Fred Weasley/Slytherin!reader #Fred Weasley x Slytherin!reader #Fred Weasley x slytherin #female reader #harry potter #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fanfic #imagine #series #Take Two #fred weasley imagine #george weasley #harry potter imagine #new series

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ramblinganthropologist · 4 years ago

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MER Week #1 - “Fun” in the sun

Summary: Alistair Shepard doesn’t want to take a vacation. Unfortunately for him, Dr. Chakwas disagrees. Lucky for him, he’s at least got a buddy to complain about it with. Nothing like having your pilot there - now if only they could agree on the Normandy’s gender. Oh well, they got time until the Normandy’s fixed.

---

There was nothing like a sunny beach to remind Alistair Shepard that he hated beaches and the sun.

“Get some sun, she said, it’s good for you�� pretty sure a doctor is supposed to warn you against skin cancer, but what do I know? I’m just a medic…”

Maybe it was a little immature, but he definitely kicked at the sand in front of him. Perhaps if he had been in a better mood, he would have appreciated the fact it was blue and sparkly. However, even that couldn’t save him as he scowled down at his feet. Right then, it was just an insult to his growing injury.

He would have rather been going off and finding the collectors, but something wrong with the Normandy had led them to stopping on the planet while the techs figured it out. Even then, he would have preferred getting his hands dirty getting the sexiest ship he had ever seen airborne. However, he wasn’t – he wasn’t allowed.

Yes, allowed was the correct word this time. He may not have been under the Alliance at the moment, what with being dead and all, but Alistair still had to follow orders. In this case, they were the doctor’s. Dr. Chakwas had called him in not long after they had landed, showing him his latest readings. His stress was through the roof, and he was going through anxiety pills like there was no tomorrow.

He had, of course, tried to argue it was a result of coming back to life, but she hadn’t believed him. Honestly, he hadn’t even really believed it himself as he had said it. Lying really wasn’t one of his fortes. Fixing shit, hamsters – he was good with those. Lying, not so much. That was why people called him a boy scout. Well, that and he listened to doctor’s orders. He had only wished those orders hadn’t involved kicking him out of the airlock after making him change his clothes in the medbay. Apparently, armor wasn’t really appreciated on a beach.

Fine… if he got his ass shot, he was blaming her. Besides, she would be the one patching him up anyway. Hooray for pyrrhic victories.

“Investigate the beach my ass…” he sighed, running a hand over his hair as he sat back in his seat. From where he was sitting under a beach umbrella, it was all bright skies and warm waters. And sand. So much fucking sand. The shit was everywhere, including on him. At least the sand he was used to was pale enough to not show up against his skin. This shit, oh, this shit was going to be fucking annoying. It was making him sparkle like a fucking 21st century vampire, even as he tried to avoid it.

And even if he could, he wasn’t allowed back on the ship until it was fixed… so he was stuck under that beach umbrella, devoted to people watching and trying not to fry.

You know you don’t have to stay under the umbrella, Commander. You could use some sun.

It was rare for Dr. Chakwas to come in through his omni-tool, but no doubt she could sense a disturbance in the force. That, or she had a camera on him. Honestly, he wasn’t sure, but it didn’t put him in a good mood as he stretched out. At least the chair was somewhat comfortable, but that wasn’t saying much.

“I go out there and I’m a lobster in five minutes.” He adjusted his sunglasses, laying back. “No, Taako’s good out here. In fact, if you need me to come back and supervise the re- “

No.

Her voice was as flat as the beach and just as stinging. Alistair scowled at this as he let out a sigh. Well, it had been worth the effort. Persistence was one of his strong suits – or was it one of his flaws? Eh, it depended on who you asked. Right then, Dr. Chakwas was definitely considering it the latter of her tone was anything to go by.

Couldn’t blame him for trying though.

You need the rest, Commander. Your heart rate has been far too elevated. Even a new heart can’t take the strain for long.

“I know… but couldn’t I do it inside?” There was no missing the sulking tone to his voice as he sighed again. “At least then I could hang out with Saren.”

Grunt is taking excellent care of Saren. Now, take care of yourself. We have an estimated two hours until the repairs are complete.

“Yes, ma’am.” His eyeroll was hidden by his glasses as the call cut out. Once alone, Alistair shook his head and laid back. Maybe if he was lucky, nobody would pay attention to the sight of a pasty redhead hiding under a beach umbrella. If that was the case, he was content to try napping.

…

Well… he would’ve if he wasn’t reminded of the stupid sand, stupid water, and the fact he’d been kicked off his own ship for an enforced vacation.

“Fuck.”

“Hey, language. There are probably some kids around here. Do you want them picking up swear words from humanity’s first Spectre?”

A new voice drew Alistair’s attention as he sat up, pushing his sunglasses to his forehead. Someone had taken the seat next to him, stretching out in a way they clearly didn’t get to normally. It took him a second – normally, those hairy legs had pants on them – but he knew the face and the laugh anywhere as reality set back in.

“Joker?”

“What, did you think you were the only one to get vacation exiled? The techs said I kept interfering with their tests on the Normandy.” The pilot nudged a can over. He came bearing Sprite. This was why he was Alistair’s favorite. “Figured a peace offering would help your mood some.”

It did. The Spectre was more than happy to accept the can and take a deep sip. Something about cold sugar water did wonders to elevate his mood, and when he sat back again he didn’t feel quite as pissed. He was still pissed, mind you, but it wasn’t as bad. Honestly, he had gone to sub krogan rampage to annoyed hamster honestly.

What, the Normandy was his ship. He didn’t like people messing with it.

“Thanks.”

Joker chuckled as he leaned back, enjoying the shade. “Surprised you’re not out there swimming or whatever normal people do at the beach. Chakwas gave you the swim binder, right?”

Yes, he was wearing it underneath the short-sleeved jacket he had managed to grab before being forced out of the airlock in nothing but flip-flops and a pair of board shorts. It was just as uncomfortable as his regular one, but there was strange comfort in that. At least there was something familiar for him.

“I don’t like going around in just a binder.” His words trailed off as he felt his cheeks heat, even in the summer sun. “Besides, that way I can keep you company. Can’t have my best pilot breaking anything trying to impress the ladies.”

Next to him, Joker snorted. “Unless you’re cheating on me behind my back, I’m your only pilot. Besides, you know that the Normandy’s my only lady, Commander.”

Alistair found himself snickering as well as he allowed his sunglasses to fall back over his eyes. “That’s too bad, because I’m fairly certainly the Normandy is a man. And you can’t argue with me, it’s my ship and I get to make the rules.”

Well, at least the rules that didn’t concern throwing him out the airlock. Apparently, he could be overruled there. Wasn’t that technically mutiny? When he got back on the Normandy, he would need to look into that. Maybe he would finally get to toss some people out the airlock. Consider it returning the favor…

Wow, he could just feel the little red number in the back of his mind go up with that one.

“Damn, now you got me right in the middle of insubordination. Going to have to disagree, because after flying her, I know she’s a woman.” Joker was still grinning as the two of them did their best to avoid the sun. “You sure you’re not getting the wires crossed, Commander?

“I am the biggest fucking homosexual you know, Jeff Moreau. I know a sexy man’s energy when I see it.”

The two paused, fixing each other with a deadpan glance. The beach was now their battleground, two opposing forces meeting in the no man’s land where neither would give ground. It was an old war, one that would have no victors.

Naturally, it only took them a few seconds to break once everything sunk in.

A few seconds later, the laughter started with two octaves harmonizing in a weird staccato that made Alistair’s insides feel like something had just been scraped out. It was stupid, he knew it was, but something about the whole argument just made him want to laugh harder. For once, he didn’t argue – down he went, doubled over as tears beaded in his eyes.

Joker wasn’t much better, but he was a bit more careful. After all, the two were tied neck and neck for most ribs broken on the Normandy. Chakwas wouldn’t want him pulling ahead and obtaining the dubious honor, so he made sure not to break anything as he leaned against the armrest of his chair, turning red.

Clearly, they were both going insane. But at least they weren’t alone.

“Man energy… right.” It took a few shaky breaths for the pilot to regain his normal tone. His cheeks were still a little red, even under the beard. Of course, that was nothing compared to his commanding officer – Alistair knew he probably looked like a tomato right then. “Shit, I needed that.”

The Spectre nodded as he moved his sunglasses to wipe away a tear. “Same here. Maybe that’s why we got kicked off the Normandy.”

“No, I’m pretty sure it’s because they don’t want you crawling around and getting stuck somewhere. It’s kind of embarrassing to have to rescue your CO from the ducts.” Joker chuckled as Alistair turned redder. They still weren’t letting him live that down – it was one time! “Apart from the whole dying thing, it’s a miracle you made it to 30 honestly.”

Now it was Alistair’s turn to chuckle as he replaced his sunglasses. “I’m only 29, actually. My birthday’s not for – “

He paused, sitting up when he realized Joker had stopped talking. When he lifted his sunglasses, he realized the man was staring at him, wide-eyed like he had just announced that the vorcha had just gotten a seat on the Council. No, it was worse than that – somehow, it could be. He was downright gobsmacked.

“What, did I say something weird?”

His words snapped the pilot out of it. Joker shook his head, coming back to life. “No, it’s just… damn, Commander. You’re younger than me?”

…

“You’re older than me?”

Now they were both staring at each other, finding it hard to say anything. Alistair should have been used to this, given his rather quick rise in rank and the weird position he occupied. A number of people under him were older, probably a decade or more in some accounts. Yet he had never extended that thought to Joker, despite everything.

Shit, was he honestly even 29? He had been dead those two years and all…

“Damn, we got a kid leading us against the Collectors.” Joker chuckled despite everything. “No wonder you don’t drink, they probably wouldn’t let you in the bar.”

The Spectre resisted the urge to stick out his tongue as he returned to laying down. “Don’t hate on me, old man. I can’t help the baby face.”

“Hey, with age comes wisdom. If I had a lawn, I’d tell you to get off it.” Joker chuckled as he leaned back as well. “Guess I can tell you to pull up your pants or something. That’s what wise elders do, right?”

His pants were always pulled up, thank you very much… it kept his dick in. You try managing two pairs of underwear and a packer if your pants are too low.

Still, Alistair found himself in a much better mood as he let the heat take him over. The sound of the waves, coupled by the bubbling in his ignored can of soda, were almost soothing as he felt his eyes grow heavy.

“You look like you’re about to conk out, Commander.”

He answered with a yawn, eyes finally closing all the way. “I think you might be on to something there, Joker. Wake me up if it looks like I’m about to get roasted.”

There was a soft chuckle to his side. “Alright, but I’m taking pictures for the rest of the crew.”

Alistair could live with that. And so he did, as he felt himself drifting off to the weird dream-free zone he often found himself in. Maybe it was the sound of the waves, or the dark coolness brought on by the overhead umbrella. Whatever it was, he gave himself over to a much-needed nap time.

Somewhere, Chakwas would be proud of him. Look at him, following doctor’s orders like a good boy. Maybe he would make it to 30 after all.

#merweek2021 #this is so dumb #but it made me laugh #Alistair Shepard #ramblinganthropologist's writing #Joker has a little crush on Al he's totally admiring the view #not that he realizes that #Al is the king of bi awakenings #joker mass effect

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hollypastl · 4 years ago

Text

the disappearance of [REDACTED] ch.1

miya atsumu/reader

Summary: "MISSING: MIYA Y/N" It reads. Underneath is a picture of yourself. Age, height, weight. Everything important is listed. How embarrassing.

Genre: angst/mystery

Warnings: missing persons, time skip spoilers

Notes: crossposted on ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/28726002/chapters/70432233

chapter one: love is so short. forgetting is so long

He wakes up painfully aware that your weight is missing from his arms. It’s a little unusual. Most mornings, you two end up dragging each other out of bed. He’s not a morning person and you’re more than content to occupy him with your entire body weight. The flutter of your breath on his face and the gentle, but firm way you play with his fingers is soothing. Eventually, responsible thought wins out and one of you will bribe the other with a hot shower or an omelette. Usually.

But not today. His feet land on the floor after a good horizontal stretch and Atsumu yawns. He squints at the clock. 10:24 AM. “Hey, babe? Didja screw with my phone?” He calls, getting up from bed and heading towards the kitchen.

There’s a muffin and a bottle of iced coffee sitting on the kitchen counter, which he hungrily digs into. A part of him is resigned and ready to get caught red handed, scarfing down something which you were saving , but the second the banana flavor hits his tongue he knows it’s intended for him. Your distaste for the flavor is something even ‘Samu hasn’t been able to sway.

His eyes wander around the messy apartment you two share while he lazily munches away on his muffin and throws back the drink. Even through the mess, his gaze lands on a neatly folded slip of paper that’s stuck to the fridge with a Hello Kitty magnet. (And as much as he insisted to everyone ever invited over that it was yours, you both knew it was his. A leftover remnant of his childhood collection of random festival prizes.)

It’s a reach from his seat at the counter to the fridge, but he makes it without standing up or tipping over his chair. The coffee still slips from his grip and shatters on the floor.

“Fuckin’ hell.”

The safety hazard is ignored as he forces himself to reread it slower.

You’ve signed your name at the bottom, but the ink is blurred. It’s just a single drop, and he’s always known you to shed tears at the drop of a hat. He wonders what could’ve restrained you to not have wet stains all over the page.

It’s a joke.

It has to be.

The wedding ring on his finger suddenly feels tighter, like his blood flow is being constricted.

Your phone number is his first call.

He doesn’t know what he expects, but the vibrations of your phone on the table by the front door isn’t it. Whatever. Move on. He calls your parents house, but they haven’t heard from you. And you’re not at work either. In fact, when the boss gets on the phone, he explains he got a text early this morning that you quit out of the blue.

A myriadic list of other people to question is filling up in his head but he can’t quite bring himself to call.

The Jackal’s manager is buzzing him next. It’s rude, but he sends him straight to voicemail. Who cares that he’s late to practice?

He’s much too busy wondering where you’ve disappeared to.

Which is how he ends up nervously twiddling his thumbs in a police precinct.

The officer is rude. Actually, he’s not. He just thinks the guy is being a jackass because he’s not being particularly helpful.

“We’ll be happy to search for signs she was taken against her will, but judging by the note she left and that you found no signs of a break-in, it sounds like she left of her own volition.” And the absolute gut punch of, “Miya-san… Are you sure she didn’t run off with another man?”

He can’t wrap his head around it. The detective recognizing him barely makes him feel better. “Miya… MiyA-SENSHU? We’ll have our best investigators on this, I promise you! Can I get you a cup of coffee? Did you walk here? Someone will drive you home.”

He watches absently as the officer who drove him back pokes around the apartment. Pictures are snapped and locks are inspected. Your hairbrush is bagged as DNA evidence and Atsumu silently notices your sneakers and his favorite hoodie gone from the closet.

It doesn’t seem real. You should be on your lunch break right now, sending him a text or even calling to ask if he wants to go visit his parents next week.

When the man finally leaves, Atsumu’s pocket starts buzzing once again.

His breath catches when it turns out to be your phone and not his. The number isn’t listed and he stops breathing entirely at that. A desperate part of him hopes you’re on the other end of the line as he brings the phone up to his ear.

“Hello?”

“This is Kitano Medical Imaging Center, I have information regarding scans for Miya Y/N.”

“She’s-” He chokes from the lack of air. Isn’t breathing supposed to be something he doesn’t have to think about anymore? “She’s not available at the moment. M’her husband though, I can pass it along.”

They’re silent for a moment. “I’m sorry, but I’m unable to release medical information to anyone but the patient at this time. Thank you and good day, sir.”

He chews on his bottom lip at that. The hell did that mean? What name had they given? Kitano? Osaka General was closer.

And what about these scans you had gotten done?

Knocking at his door busts him out of his head. What was it now? He considers ignoring it but, “C’mon, open up ‘Tsum-tsum!” Bokuto isn’t one to be easily discouraged.

But the shattered glass still lying on his kitchen floor steals his attention and mutes the shouting, if only slightly. Bokuto will have questions that Atsumu doesn’t care to or just doesn’t have the answers to. Instead, he lets his teammate tire himself out while he sits at the kitchen counter, staring blankly at the hazard he has yet to clean up.

He shows up to training half an hour early the next morning, getting a headstart on lat pull-downs before anyone else has even arrived. The team trickles in slowly and it would be a lie to say he didn’t notice the little glances they keep giving him. Everyone is on edge and the scowl marring his face probably doesn’t help the mood.

“Whaddya’ mean it’s written all over m’face?” He frowned, shouldering his bag.

“Atsumu.” Even though your back was to him, he could tell you were rolling your eyes as you locked up the gym. “You’re chronically easy to read.”

“Am not!”

You rested a hand on your hip, narrowing your eyes. “C’mon, I think it’s cute how you wear your heart on your sleeve,” The door clicked shut and you swung around, keys and lanyard in hand. “If you want, I’ll let you in on the secret of how I mastered my poker face.” You offered, elbowing him.

“Hah! Yeah, right! Last week ya cried when Kita-senpai said ya weren’t good at cleanin’ water bottles.”

It was true, you had burst into tears. “Please. Fake crying is a much more advanced skill. I’m talkin’ about a good ‘ole blank and neutral expression—”

“Wait, ya mean ya did that on purpose?” He threw an incredulous look your way.

You rolled your eyes once more. He was so naive. “Senpai did end up washing the whole crate for me, didn’t he?”

Atsumu stared at you, jaw slack.

“Atsumu?” You waved a hand in front of your face.

“Atsumu, you good?”

“Huh?”

“I asked why you went AWOL yesterday.” Meian’s brow furrowed and Atsumu forced out an answer he had decided hours ago.

“Just a family issue, sorry I didn’t get the chance to call, man.”

He could almost hear your voice now, congratulating him on keeping cool. He feels sick. Like a kid who’s eaten too much for their lil’ stomach to handle and is about to vomit all over the floor. That exact thing had happened to ‘Samu once. It was someone’s birthday in their middle school class —he couldn’t remember who— and the idiot had eaten five pieces of cake while nobody was looking.

It wouldn’t have been a problem on it’s own. The glutton wouldn’t dare waste food by throwing it up. The problem came when he washed it all down with spiked punch.

The class had gotten in so much trouble for that.

Nobody had seen it happen and the culprit wouldn’t come forward. The entire class was forced to endure cleaning duty for a month and they were banned from participating in the sports festival. He had been so pissed.

Now it’s just a bad memory in the bad of his mind. Thoughts absentmindedly trailing back to you, (like they always seem to) he wonders where you had been during that incident. You hadn’t been friends with him yet. He didn’t even know your first name at that point. But you had been in his class. He distinctly remembers arbitrarily voting you for class rep because you were pretty.

And, now that he really thinks about it, he remembers seeing your arm slowly rise.

“It was me. I did it. It was a really bad joke and I’m sorry.”

He’d been sitting a couple rows behind you, so he couldn’t see the look on your face, but he knew it must’ve been painted with shame.

Nobody believed you. Without missing a beat, the assistant principal had kindly told you it was noble to try and take the fall. Your friend had tugged on the edge of your skirt, beckoning for you to sit down. Just like that, it was over. He’s surprised he can recall it. The whole thing, start to finish, must’ve been less than fifteen seconds. He doubts anyone else remembers but you.

He considers your words from back then. How you had said it was just a bad joke.

His immature ass, having stomach pains from laughing so hard, would beg to differ. Your jokes never fall flat.

He finishes his set and moves to the leg press.

Desperately, he needs to believe the past twenty four hours have been a joke. That you just left to visit a friend, or needed some space. But the items on the list keep adding up.

His eyes start tearing up and he wipes the sweat from his forehead.

#atsumu x reader #haikyuu #Miya Atsumu #i need a beta so bad

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pbandjesse · 4 years ago

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I finally got to go to work at my new site! And I really like it! But today felt like a really long day. I havent worked 7 hours in a row for a while. So I am pretty tired.

I had a really hard time last night. I was really emotional and I didnt feel good still. I cried a bunch and I just felt really dumb for feeling so sad for no reason. So sleep did not come easy.

But I woke up in a better mood. It was a very grey day. And as I was getting washed up and dressed it started snowing again.

The apartment was incredibly hot. The heaters worked to well today. But it was cold outside. I had to leave here really early to go get fingerprinted and I was nervous about driving. And while I feel a lot better, my cough has gotten more annoying. Its just like a tickle that happens in the back of my throat and its very embarrassing because there is a pandemic happening around a cough!! So I try to keep it in and then I choke and sound insane. But I got washed up and dressed and said goodbye to James and sweetP and off I went into the wet world.

The snow was very pretty. But still a little scary to be out in. It was mostly just wet though. I got to the finger printing place and had trouble finding the front door but I did it and helped the uber eats guy find the door too. We were both confused.

The girl who did my prints was very nice and it was nice talking to her. I didnt have to pay because it was for the Y so that was cool. And it was a quick process. And soon enough I was back out into the snow. Wishing I had a hat and different shoes.

I went home and it was still early. I dont love starting work at 11. As it cuts into my art and lazy morning time. But It was only 930. So I had breakfast and watched a video. I worked on a new loom. And listened to James lead their very first substitute teaching class! It was super cute hearing them talking to the kids and I just felt all proud and bubbly about it.

I wish I could have stayed and listen longer. But soon enough it was time to walk to my new job.

And it wasnt a bad walk. I brought an umbrella, as the snow was wet and heavy. It would soon turn to ice and rain though so the site stayed open. All good. It is actually a really easy walk. And it turned out when I got lost the other day I was only one street over. I dont know how I had gotten lost but I made it there with no trouble at all.

I got inside and they showed me where the academic support area was. And I got to meet the people Ive been texting with and everyone was so nice! I had a really nice day actually! Its a much smaller group, closer to my PAL location. And there were even a few kids from my last site there! So that was a nice surprise.

I had to do some waiting and while I did I ended up buying a chair on Instagram from a local antique store and its super strange. It's a dressing chair and James is gonna pick it up for me tomorrow. I'm very excited.

I spent the first hour getting acclimated and showed around. Signing things and filling out paperwork. I was a little annoyed because all the paperwork I had gotten together and printed for the last site somehow got lost again and because I dont have access to it on my phone or tablet I would have to wait until I got home to sort it out so that was dragging on me. But honestly. It was a great time.

The kids are sweet. But it was a long day and filling in that time was hard. Especially because I was feeling a little run down. I did get to lead a art project and that was a great way to introduce myself. This site lets the kids watch some movies during lunch and pick up time. And we did multiple little projects in the afternoon and went to the gyms to run around. We had peaches and cheez its for a snack and I really enjoyed the peaches. I should buy peaches more.

I really like my coworkers though so thats pretty great. The one is a woman and Im only with her for the first hour, but she seems nice. The other I am with for most of the day and he made me feel really cool but it was also because he seemed really cool. And I hope we can work together well. We brainstormed some art projects and other project ideas. And he's much more into the physical stuff then me so it was fun to watch him come up with games and things in the gym. I played catch with some girls. I did try to do the lead stretching he had but I got a crazy charlie horse in my side that scared me so I stopped after the first couple stretches. I dont know what happened but I hope it doesnt happen again.

The end of the day I was just cleaning and making plans for tomorrows project. Im going to try to get them to sew. Well see how it goes. But I have a good feeling. Its a young group but not to immature. I think it will be good.

I was happy to go home though when the last kid got picked up. My new coworkers are a little nervous about me walking home which is very sweet of them. But the sun was still out and there were lots of street lights. And I was home quick.

James had put together snacks for me so I wouldnt get an upset belly while waiting for dinner. I got the best partner. We had little pizzas for dinner. And as we were cleaning up got a frantic call that apparently a pipe from our apartment was leaking into the girls below us. Aw man. So it was a frantic figure out where that water was coming from and James figured out it was coming from the sink. So we had to turn the water off there whille I ran downstairs to talk to our neighbors and get some duct tape. Mr Will is going to come in the morning to check it out. But water damage is my nightmare so I was a little unsettled.

Once we got it sorted out things felt okay. I went and did some organizing in my studio. Worked on some art. And now I am on the couch being sad about my mouth hurting but also just enjoying listening to James play monster of the week with their friends and weaving a beautiful story and it just makes me laugh and its great.

Now I am going to wash up and get in bed. I hope its an easy sleep. For you as well. Goodnight everyone! Be safe out there.

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ratatoongi · 5 years ago

Text

babydoll-myg- twenty

word count: 1315

a/n: I am so so so so sorry this took as long as it did, writing has never been one of my strongest skills right now cause i get to unfocused so i want to apologize for dragging this out like i did 🥺

You wait outside your apartment for Yoongi’s car to show up. The weather was warm but not too warm, there was a cool breeze but the air was still warm. You hoped tonight would be different you and Yoongi would actually talk things out and see where they go. Not that they would go anywhere you mean he just got out of a relationship, with a model. Damn did that lower your self-esteem. Yoongi’s is supposed to be here in a couple of minutes get yourself together y/n.

You obviously didn’t have a chance with him like ever. But you were okay with that. You didn’t mind it. it wasn’t a big deal.

Or at least that’s what you thought.

After a short amount of time had passed yoongi showed up. He honked his horn jokingly at you. A giggle emerged from you. You walk over to his car and he opens it for you.

“Hey”

You smile and get in the car and close the door next to you, Your seatbelt clicks and he puts the car in drive and takes off before you could even say anything.

The car ride itself was slow. The car ride was silent, not an awkward silence but a calm quiet. You enjoyed the car ride and having the window down falling the breeze hit your face. But you knew Yoongi was watching.

Yoongi wanted to say something to you. He wanted to hear your voice again. He wanted anything from you a groan, a twitch, a shake, a tap, a moan if he was lucky. There was something off in the car the tension felt thick, thick enough to cut it with a knife but even then Yoongi was still glad that he gets to see y/n. Especially like this with the wind in your face and you looking so carefree like you almost even forgot that he was in the car. His babydoll. One day he hoped.

You got there quicker than you expected his apartment had gotten messy. It had that manly musky smell. If that made any sense, but everything was still the same. He left the tv on some Disney movie. “I’m sorry for the mess haven’t really been paying attention to my home.” He said. You shook your head to try to tell him that you didn’t mind. I mean it was none of your business to know why he has been so busy to not be able to clean his house, but you guessed it was because of dance or his breakup.

“I’m sorry for pushing you away when you kissed me.”

You stared at him. I mean you were upset about it but you didn’t wanna make it a big deal if he didn’t reciprocate your feelings.

“It’s fine really, I understand.” You responded. He shrugged. “I didn’t wanna lead you on, cause it wasn’t like I didn’t have feelings for you I just didn’t want to hurt my girlfriend.” He rolled his eyes. “But I guess she ended up hurting me instead.” He laughed.

You could see behind the laugh that he was hurting so you got close to his and wrapped your hands around his waist holding him tightly. He soon after held you close. “I don’t wanna make you feel like that again y/n,” Yoongi spoke out. You dismissed his words again.

“Yoongi I’m fine sure I was hurt but what hurts me more than you pushing me away was seeing you hurt and unfocused and knowing that that was my fault.” He put his finger on your lips shushing you. “It was nobody’s fault.” You smile.

He smiled back at you and let you go and walked toward the kitchen. “You hungry?” He asked opening the fridge. You nodded.

He brought out a couple of items for a sandwich. You looked curiously at him when he picked up a plate for you and him. You smirked. “Making my sandwiches now huh yoongs?” He beamed from ear to ear.

“Do you like them toasted or not?.” He asked you. “Toasted.” You answered sitting down on Yoongi’s couch.

You both ended up eating sandwiches on his couch and starting the movie that he was previously watching before he came to pick you up. It felt like you were repeating the same night but this time it didn’t feel like there was an awkward tension or a weird sexual tension. Well, there wasn’t as much sexual tension that there was before, but they're still was that mood that lingered in the air.

“Yoongi?” His head turned and his eyebrow raised.

“Do you wanna be with me?” You asked. He looked down at his fingers and then looked back at you. “I wanna be with you Y/n but you know I wanna fully get over Yuma before I get with anyone else.” You shook your head up and down to show him that you understood.

You really did understand though, you would have wanted him to get over his ex before he started to date you so he didn’t have those leftover feelings for her. You get jealous easily you’ll admit that but it’s a different type of jealousy when you around him.

He got closer to you look at all the features on your face. He looked at your eyes but got embarrassed and started looking at your cheeks, then your other cheek, then your nose, then your lips. That what he couldn’t stop staring at, there was something about them that drew him in completely, he wanted them all to himself. And that’s what he did when he leaned closer and smashed your lips together. Not to hard that it was uncomfortable for you or him but it went quick there was no fore playing.

Sloppy, wet, teeth-gnashing together, lots lots of tongue, but slow sensual sexy porn worthy almost. He needed this more than anything. He thought about this more than anything, and your lips were so so soft velvety warm they made all of Yoongi’s senses go crazy his hands immediately went to your hips pulling you closer to him to straddle him. Your hand went from your sides to his shoulders in an instant. Your thighs muscles tightened around Yoongi.

You pulled away from each other for a second just to breathe. He kissed your neck and kissed the other side of your neck, then the asshole blew raspberries into your chest.

you giggled aloud and pushed him. “I’m sorry.” He blurted out, you stared at him. God, you wanted to kiss him again so so bad. More than he would ever know.

“Don’t be, I needed that.” You did but not as much as he needed it. He Didn’t push you off of him cause he couldn’t stand not having your skin in his even if it was a little bit. He felt so immature like a teenager needy for his girlfriend. girlfriend?

Yoongi scoffed, you looked at him questionably. “What?” You had asked him.

“I keep wanting to call you my girlfriend in my head I do I don’t want us to act like we’re just friends cause you and I both realize we're not just that, so maybe we can be boy friend and girl friend.” his smile was very distinguished, But you were beyond confused.

“Like with a space after boy and girl.” You mouthed him a-ok and chuckled. He traced his fingers up and down your sides and stoped at your hips gripping then tightly. You caught on to that.

“I love hearing you laugh babydoll.” He spoke to you slowly. You bit your lip at him needy for more than just his lips.

“If your lucky maybe you’ll be hearing more than a laugh.” You whisper in his ear. He smirked

hand and lips were back where they belonged in no time.

Series Summary

-y/n is in love. In love with ballet and nothing with come between y/n and ballet, or so you thought at one point or another.

-Yoongi is your new teacher dance teacher actually. Now you have to figure out and entire different style of dance and and entire new set of feelings that came along with. y/ns got no jams.

▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁

⇥fic type: social media au, dance partners

⇥main parings: min yoongi x you

⇥side parings: jikook, namjin, vhope

⇥genre: ballet/hip hop dance au slow burn

⇥warnings: jealousy, non-commitment issues, mature themes, potty mouths, heavy pining, past exes.

⇥status: ongoing

@kookiesjoonies @yoongiprint @moon-and-solar-smiles @mama-m0chi @izzyexe

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kriscme · 5 years ago

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One Life To Live

Hi Readers, sorry for the longer interval that usual. It took me awhile to work out where to go from here. The hazard of not working to a plan. Thanks as always to Ronja for allowing me to write fanfic of her Hunger Games fanfic “The Chance You Didn’t Take.” You can read it on AO3 and Fanfiction. Chapter 28 The following morning, I set out for work as usual. All is quiet in the Village. Peeta would still be sleeping off the effects of sleep syrup but there’s no sign of Johanna or Haymitch. I modify my usual route to the school and walk down the main street, curious to see if Lace is working today. She doesn’t open this early, but she can usually be seen behind her shop window bustling about, either sewing or sorting through fabrics. Today there’s no sign of her. Even more oddly, the tailor’s shop is closed. Arthur starts early and finishes late, eager for as much business as possible to fund that factory he intends to own one day. The bakery is open though. Cass and Saffy are serving behind the counter. Saffy replaced Sateen after she quit her job to marry Roy. Her full name is Sapphire and she’s aptly named with dark blue eyes and pale blond hair. She’s someone I might have been jealous of if Peeta hadn’t already been with Lace. Very pretty, she flirts with everyone, male and female alike. Peeta told me she had been training as a career before the war put an end to the Games. Her favored weapon was the bow although she admits that she was only middling good at best. But if Glimmer – also from 1 – had made it through on good looks and charm, then why not her? It’s the early morning rush and there’s quite a few people ahead of me. While I wait, I take the opportunity to examine the contents of the display counters. Bee stings must still be popular as they take up an entire shelf. Below them are apple pastries and jelly slices. Chocolate eclairs and fruit tarts, cupcakes and . . . yes, iced cookies, each decorated with a floral motif. It’s clearly Peeta’s work. In one corner of the bakery is a large glass case displaying a dazzling array of celebration cakes. “Amazing, aren’t they?” says Cass behind me. I look around and see that the other customers have left and there’s only me, Cass and Saffy, who is occupied packing loaves of bread onto shelves. “We’re really lucky to have found him. He could get work anywhere, if he wanted.” He points to the central cake, a large multi-tiered wedding cake decorated with an intricate vine design in gold. The pattern and the shape of the leaves stirs a memory, and I wonder if it had for Peeta too. “We even got an order for one just like it to be shipped to the Capitol.” “The Capitol? Wow! That’s a long way to come for a wedding cake. How did they know to look here?” Cass chuckles. “She actually came in for the beestings. She recognized us from our bakery in the Capitol. But when she saw that cake, she just had to have it. It was the strangest thing. The tattoo on her head was an exact match with the vine decoration on the cake.” “Oh, that is strange. Did she say why she was in 12? We don’t usually get tourists here.” “She didn’t say. But the beestings was a treat for her crew, I know that much. Construction, maybe? There’s a lot of that going on.” “Yeah, probably.” Despite my efforts to keep my voice even, I can’t help a sense of urgency creeping in. “Did she ask to speak to Peeta? You know, to talk about the cake?” “No. She didn’t ask who iced it.” Cass’s brow pinches in worry. “Is there something wrong?” “Of course not,” I quickly assure him. “Just curious, that’s all. I thought she might have wondered how the cake and her tattoo happen to match. But it’s probably a standard design. Peeta likely saw it somewhere from his days in the Capitol.” His face relaxes into a smile. “Well, there was plenty to choose from, fashions changed so fast. None as popular as your Mockingjay symbol though.” “Yeah, it did seem to be everywhere. Although I bet there’s a lot of people who regret they got a tattoo of it,” I say with a laugh. I search for a change of subject. I really don’t want to revisit those days. “Do you have any cheese buns ready?” “A batch is due out of the oven now. Just wait a minute and I’ll get them,” he says, and disappears into the rear of the bakery. The aroma of freshly baked cheese buns would normally have me salivating, but all I can think of is the woman who ordered that cake. Cressida! What’s she doing in 12? The last I heard, she and Pollux had been sent to the Districts to cover the wreckage of the war. This was not long after the Capitol had fallen, Coin was in charge, Snow awaiting trial, and I was in hospital being treated for burns. Maybe she’s here to do a story on District 12’s recovery. That would make sense. I just hope Peeta and I aren’t the subject. Paylor would certainly put a stop to it if we were, wouldn’t she? She didn’t want me attracting any attention when I was in 8, after all. I think as far as the government is concerned; we outlived our usefulness long ago. Nowadays we’re more of an embarrassment. The lunatic who went berserk and kicked a fellow combatant into a pod to his death, and the lunatic who executed the wrong president. I think, if the government have its way, we’ll never be heard of again. No ill will, just please quietly fade into the sunset. Max sheds no further light on the Cressida mystery. When asked if I’d missed anything while I was away, he only commented on Arthur’s uncharacteristic behavior at the pub on the Saturday night. Max describes him as an odd mixture of concern and excitement. “Like he was happy about something, but felt bad that he was happy about it. He didn’t stick around for long. Said he had personal issues to attend to.” Lace, probably. That could explain why his shop wasn’t open as usual. Arthur wouldn’t, would he? Spend the night with her? To give comfort, or maybe something more? Maybe he’s heeding his own advice: be adaptable, be open to possibilities. “Lace and Peeta broke up,” I say, and wait for Max’s stunned reaction. To my surprise I don’t get one. Not beyond a raise of eyebrows and a sardonic laugh, that is. “Did they now? Well, you could see that coming.” “How?” I ask, disbelieving. It’s so typical of Max to claim credit for knowing something after the fact. Peeta and Lace were never anything less than a devoted couple. No one could have seen it coming. I get a disbelieving look in return. “You must have been too preoccupied with making plans for your weekend in the woods with Nature Man. Because while their hands might have been all over each other their eyes weren’t. His were on you and hers were on Arthur. I was surprised Lace held out for as long as she did. If looks could kill, Johanna would have been dead a dozen times over.” Max finishes collating the work sheets on the table and sets to work stapling them together. “So, what’s between them? Obviously, they’re more than just acquaintances if he knew her secret before Psycho Boy did.” “They knew each other in 8. They’re related through marriage,” is all I say. I doubt if Arthur would appreciate me giving away more than that. Certainly not that he’s had a crush on Lace since childhood. “And stop calling people names. It’s immature. And unnecessary.” “But I like calling people names. It’s fun. You’re just jealous I haven’t one for you yet. How about The Scowler? Yes, that fits,” he says, grinning at me. I try to wipe the scowl off my face but give up. Max gives me so much to scowl at. “And now the big question is, who will she choose? Nature Man or Psycho Boy? It should be no contest but there’s no accounting for some women’s tastes.” “There is no choice,” I snap. “And mind your own business.” I plonk my still half-full cup of tea in the sink and stomp out of the staff room before remembering that I’ve just committed the grave offense of not washing my cup and placing it back on the self. Maybe I can get back in time later to do it before Mrs. Matson sees it. But I’m not going back in there right now. Not while he’s in there, no matter the consequences. That man annoys me so much. And the most annoying thing about him is that he can see right through me. Because if I’m honest with myself, the thought had occurred to me too. Which is really, really dumb. The situation bears no relationship whatsoever to the choice I had between Gale and Peeta. Because then there really was a choice. Two boys who were in love with me compared to one man who isn’t, and another I can’t say. But somehow, I sense that there’s still a choice to be made. I don’t know how, or why. Just that at one point, I’ll have to make one. If Max can be trusted with anything, it’s to spread information in the fastest time possible. By lunchtime everyone knows. I get a few looks, especially from the newest members of staff. I suppose I’d better get used to it. People will speculate and assume the way is clear now for Peeta and me. In their minds, anything other than a star-crossed lovers union is unthinkable, an aberration that shouldn’t be tolerated. It’s unfortunate for them that they’re going to be disappointed a second time. I walk home the way I came, down the main street. Lace’s shop is still closed, but Arthur is open for business. I watch him through the window as I walk past. Arthur has really only one expression, but it manifests in varying degrees according to his mood and the situation. Today it’s serious light, and if I’m not mistaken, there’s the barest hint of a smile at the corners of his lips. It’s the happiest I’ve ever seen him. Johanna calls by soon after I arrive home. Marcus isn’t here so I lead her into the sitting room where we can talk openly in comfort. “How is he?” I ask as soon as we’re seated. “Better. There haven’t been any more flashbacks, at least. I think the long sleep broke the cycle. Not that I’ve seen much of him. He kept to his room most of the day, except when he came down to talk to Aurelius on the phone.” “And?” Neither of us pretend that Johanna hadn’t listened in. We’re both shameless. Johanna for eavesdropping and me for asking her to repeat it. But justified, we tell ourselves, because we care about his welfare. Johanna’s forehead crinkles in concentration. “Well, I only heard Peeta’s side of it, of course. And it was muffled at times. But he talked about the flashbacks. That’s how I know they’ve stopped. And then about the break-up. I got the impression he must have already talked to Aurelius about the possibility, because he didn’t explain why they broke up, just that they had, and he felt badly about it. And then, all of a sudden, he started to cry. He kept saying over and over that his life was ruined and he’ll never find a love like that again and that it was his own fault.” It’s a knife to the heart. I know Peeta doesn’t love me anymore but he has some awareness that he once did, and that it was, by his own account, overwhelming in its intensity. But Lace has supplanted me in that too. She’s the love that can never be surpassed. But something doesn’t quite make sense. Why break-up with her if he feels that way? She was the one who had to be forgiven. Peeta did nothing wrong. But then I remember what Peeta told Johanna when she asked him why they had broken-up. He said they’d both lied. Could Lace have initiated the break-up? That whatever Peeta had lied about was a deal breaker for her? And then I think about Arthur and his closed shop this morning and the little smile on his face when I saw him later in the day. That’s more than relief for a disaster averted. He’s had encouragement. From Lace. Poor Peeta. Poor, poor Peeta. Everything about her he adored – her laughter, her bright personality, her ambition. He even liked that slobbering dog of hers. And after everything he’s suffered. The Games, losing his leg, his torture at Snow’s hands. And the loss of his entire family in the bombing too. He had no one except Haymitch and me – a drunk and a depressed recluse, as battle scarred and broken as he. And then he meets Lace. The ray of light in the darkness. And the amount of money he spent on that wedding! To please her, to show her and the world how much he loves her. And now, oh, how could she? “It was heartbreaking. I just wanted to leap out and tell him that little bitch isn’t worth it. But I couldn’t, you know.” No, not without revealing yourself. “But he calmed down eventually. He talked about going the Capitol for treatment but I think Aurelius persuaded him to stay here. And that’s about it. Except to talk again tomorrow. Oh, and Peeta promised to think about returning to work as soon as possible and to get out and see people. And to continue to work on his memories.” That’s similar to the advice Dr Aurelius gave me when I told I was in love with Peeta. To work on myself, to find my direction. “No, that’s not quite right,�� Johanna adds. “I left out an important detail. He promised to work on his memories with her. I guess Aurelius appreciated my input. And he did make a lot more progress once I took over. Sorry, Katniss, but he did.” I nod wearily. It hurts, but it’s true. All I managed to do was confirm what he had already convinced himself of. A disaster from start to finish. “Are you going to see him?” asks Johanna. “I think it will help him to know that he still has friends.” I want to say no. But I know that if the positions were reversed Peeta would put aside his own hurt feelings and support me any way he can. “Yes, in a day or two maybe. I want to give him time to adjust first.” It’s a lame response but Johanna seems to accept it. If I were Peeta I could leave a bag of cookies or cheese buns at his front door as a convenient way of conveying support without having to actually engage. But I can’t think of anything I can give him that he’d want so I’ll have to face him. I can’t delay it forever. I tell Johanna about the cake with the vine design and the woman who ordered one just like it. And of my suspicions of who this woman might be. “Yeah, that’d be Cressida. She’s been covering an ongoing story about Marcus and the national parks. She comes around this time, just as Marcus is almost finished wrapping things up. Although, in 7, she was almost there from the start. You know, because of all the trouble we had with the logging companies. I don’t know if you saw it, but she did a special feature on me. It was called “Johanna Mason – Environmental Activist. Her Life After the Games.” It was sensationalist rubbish really. They kept on showing footage of me chained naked to a tree. Even asked if I’d do the interview like that. I did, but I want to be clear, it was their idea, not mine. And they tried to fabricate a love affair between me and Marcus too. Marcus hated it. Especially when memes appeared on social media transposing me naked against the tree with him next to me with his hands in various places.” “But why?” I’m aghast. This is dreadful news. If they did that to Johanna, what would they do to Marcus and me? Or to Peeta and Lace? Or to Peeta and me? This is juicy fodder for the tabloid media. “I thought they wanted us to lay low. To just blend in and be ordinary people again.” Johanna looks at me askance. “Well, maybe you and Peeta. But not for the rest of us. Beetee writes for a science magazine and does frequent guest appearances on “Cool Science” and Enobaria has her own reality show. “Keeping Up with the Barbarian,” or something like that. Annie likes to keep a low profile though.” “Does Marcus know she’s here?” I barely whisper the words. Johanna shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe not if she’s just arrived. But he would have known she’d be here eventually. Marcus doesn’t like it, but he relies on the publicity. And when he goes to 13 next – “ “13?” “Well, yes. He’s doing all the Districts. You know that. And 13’s practically virgin territory. That’s one advantage in living underground I suppose, nothing on top gets damaged. He’ll want to move quickly to preserve the area most in need of conservation before developers make any more inroads. I don’t envy him though. That’s one place I never want to see again.” Me neither. There’re no good memories for me in 13. And they hate me there. I killed their president. Johanna leaves shortly after, but not before extracting from me an assurance that I’ll visit Peeta soon. I have about an hour before Marcus arrives home. Enough time to use his computer to do some research. I find the memes Johanna talked about. One has Marcus with one hand at Johanna’s crotch and the other inside his trousers, pumping away. I search Beetee’s name and find links to articles he’s written and his TV appearances. There’s very little about his personal life other than he still lives in his home district of 3 and has investments in an electrical company. Enobaria attracts the most publicity. As well as her reality show, she’s a regular on the celebrity circuit, her trademark pointed teeth bared for maximum effect. On Annie, there’s been no media reports since the War ended. And there’s none for Haymitch, Peeta and me either. I can understand why Peeta and I have been left alone. At least, I thought I did. Haymitch and Annie would be fair game though. Annie, slightly mad Annie, Victor and the widow of the handsome and seductive Finnick Odair, himself a Victor, the most notorious womaniser in Panem turned war hero. Surely the birth of their son would have garnered some attention. And Haymitch is a news story too. A popular Victor and a prominent player in the Rebellion, you’d think they’d be some public curiosity about where he ended up. But nothing. Either there’s been no interest or it’s being squelched. It dawns on me that maybe the lack of media attention isn’t just because we’re a national embarrassment. It’s because we’re being protected. Enobaria, Beetee and Johanna have chosen to be in the public eye, and they must take the bad with the good. But not Annie, Haymitch, Peeta and I. We’ve lived quiet lives, eschewing the lime-light. I let out a long breath, not realizing that I’ve been holding it. We’re safe then. Cressida will do her news story about Marcus and the new national park and then leave. Peeta and I have nothing to worry about. A door opens and shuts and there’s footsteps in the hall. I close the computer and replace everything as it was. Marcus is home.

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ghostofbambifanfiction · 6 years ago

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I found a piece of fic that I wrote ages ago and decided never to post and miraculously did not delete! Which is rare for me! I delete too much! I think it’s pretty crap but I promised an anon a while ago that if I found something like this I’d share it (and apologies if there are errors this is a completely unedited first draft of something that I never finished).

Lily Evans is thirteen-years-old when her mother sits her down and explains that her body is about to "undergo some changes."

Her active participation in such a conversation is not how Lily pictured kicking off the summer holidays, but after two years at a boarding school that keeps her apart from her family from September 'til July, her mum is chomping at the bit to delve right into the Talk, lest her daughter learn about menstruation elsewhere—or god forbid, wake up covered in blood one morning and assume that she is shortly about to die.

Of course, Lily knows what to expect from her period. She can read, for one thing, and has numerous female friends. Beatrice got her first ever period at the start of second year, and on the train to school, of all places. Lily will be fine if left to her own devices, but her mother is so excited to talk about Puberty and Buying Bras and Now You're Becoming a Woman, and Lily doesn't have the heart to tell her that she's already quite clued in, thank you very much. She doesn't think she could live with inflicting such disappointment.

There's even a shoebox of props to hand, for Grace Evans is a nurse, and she wants her daughters to have all the information that she was denied at school.

Menstruation education station, she calls it.

"Tampons," her mother tells her, slapping the tiny, lipstick shaped contraption down on the kitchen table like she's preparing to place it as a wager in a high-stakes poker game. Her hand returns to the box and draws out yet another item. "Or pads. They're your two main choices. I'll give you a good supply of both before you go back, just in case, unless—do they have some other method, at Hogwarts? Some sort of magic potion? It's a very difficult subject to research, in my position."

Lily's father walks into the room—newspaper in hand, lips pursed as if preparing to whistle—catches sight of them both, then turns and walks right out again.

"What's wrong with Dad?" says Lily to her mother.

"Men are afraid of menstruation, sweetheart," Grace tells her, with a baleful glance at the door through which her husband has just exited, "because they're weak and silly, and can't be bothered to learn."

"Oh," Lily says, then lets out a laugh. "I suppose I won't ask Professor Slughorn how witches deal with periods."

"Heavens, no, he'll faint dead away."

Lily does not add that it would be rather funny to watch Slughorn faint to get out of an awkward conversation about the miracles of puberty. She doubts that he would feel comfortable talking to the boys about such a thing, let alone a member of the opposite sex.

Puberty is so much easier for boys, she reflects, and that's dead unfair. She may be but a girl and ignorant to the inner workings of the male body, but the only visible change she ever noticed in any of the boys in her year—specifically, in her house—was a sudden onslaught of squeaky voices. To make things more unfair, that phase didn't even last very long, except for poor Peter Pettigrew, who seems to be a squeaker by default.

Now she has to deal with people like Potter—to pick a name completely at random—acting like puffed-up, macho twits because their voices have finally broken.

"I don't know what witches do normally," she says, "but I can always ask Madam Pomfrey. She's the matron at school. My friend Beatrice started hers last year but she's Muggle-born too, so she never thought to ask. Her mum just sends her pads."

"Make sure you do," says her mum, her tone almost warning. "I can send you whatever you need, but it'll be easier for you if there's some magical method you can access, especially for the cramps." She pauses, looking thoughtful. "And the mood swings. And the sore boobs—" Her eyes light up. "—which reminds me..."

Lily groans as Grace delves into the box again and extracts a small measuring tape, such as a tailor might use.

"I don't have boobs to measure," she reminds her mother, clasping both hands to her chest.

"Yet," says Grace, brandishing the rolled-up tape like a particularly tempting treat. "You don't have boobs to measure yet, but that doesn't mean you'll never have boobs." She nods down at her own chest. "I was your classic late bloomer—not so much as an insect bite until I was sixteen, then I ballooned out. Same with your sister. In any case, you've got at least enough to fill an A-cup, and you need to start wearing bras."

"I don't need a bra."

"Well, you're getting one. As soon as I've got you measured up, I'll take you to M&S and get you sorted."

"What else have you got in there?" says Lily, eyeing the battered blue box with a wary eye while her mother unfurls the tape.

"Just the essentials," says Grace airily. "Some leaflets from the hospital, panty liners, condoms—"

As if her mother has cranked up the dial on an embarrassment meter that only a parent has the necessary skills to operate, Lily immediately turns as red as her own hair. "Mum!"

"I'm not saying you need to use them—"

"I'm thirteen!"

"—but it won't hurt you to know how, for future reference!"

"Mum, no," says Lily, as firmly as she can, in her best attempt to sound as if she's taking a mature line on this, "I don't have any reason to want to know how to—how to use—honestly, no." She can't pretend. Her face feels all hot, as if it has been set aflame. Even the thought of what her mother is referring to makes her feel slightly sick. "Seriously, no, I don't want to learn—"

"You don't have to take them with you in September, of course, you're still only thirteen," Grace continues, completely undaunted by her daughter's mortification, "but it seems like you were just a baby five minutes ago, sweetheart. The time goes so fast, honestly, and it won't be long before you start to experience your own sexual awakening—"

"I'm going to my room," says Lily desperately, and shoots out of her chair.

"It's really not that bad—"

"I am grounded. I am grounding myself."

"Really, Lily, I'm just trying to help." Her mother lets out a hefty sigh. "Once we've measured you for a bra, I'll show you how it works on a banana, and you'll see that it's really not that complicated."

Lily Evans decides that she will never eat a banana split again.

***

The inconvenient, unwanted, and oft warned-of sexual awakening comes to hammer down Lily's door when she is fifteen-years-old, by which time her boobs have most certainly come in.

Despite a multitude of painfully awkward conversations with her mother—who doesn't say it, but seems desperate for Lily to fancy someone, anyone, so that they can gossip about it together—on the topic, she finds herself entirely unprepared for it.

She's unprepared because it's… weird.

Lily has had crushes before—sort of—fleeting things that seemed to exist because she thought they were supposed to, rather than stemming from any particular stirrings on her part. She's a late bloomer, just like her mum, and she knows as much. Bea and Mary have both been snogged, and Lily knew that she was trailing a little behind, but she never cared. It was fine and dandy and totally normal. She might even say that she's been lucky to escape it for this long.

It doesn't happen in the way she was expecting, not that Lily had any particular expectations, but had she ever, they would not have formed along these particular lines. It wouldn't be so embarrassing, or confusing—not the how or the why or the when or the where, but the what. The what, of all things.

The what is the thing that baffles her most, because Lily always figured that it would be some transformative, meaningful thing, like an effortlessly witty conversation with a mature intellectual—tall, dark, and a little bit older than she, a boy with soulful blue eyes and scholarly interests.

The what should not be James Potter's arse in a pair of jeans.

But it is.

The thing about the magical world at large is that the robes are basically formless—loose, large, flapping things that hide the body away and become quite annoying during hotter months—but younger witches and wizards will opt not to wear them when it isn't strictly required. Throw Hogwarts, where robes are the mandatory default, into the mix, and something as unexpectedly disarming as a structurally spectacular derriere may spend a vast amount of time being cunningly hidden.

It's the last Hogsmeade trip of fourth year—with summer looming tantalisingly ahead like a ripe apple dangling from a tree—when Lily steps out of Scrivenshaft's and finds herself perfectly positioned to spy James Potter's denim-clad backside as he walks past with his mates.

Her eyes flick over his form as she scans the general area, then Lily finds her gaze dragged abruptly back, as if she's snagged her sleeve on a nail whilst passing through a doorway.

And now she's staring.

At an arse.

At James Potter's arse, which is the worst of it. If Lily has just discovered that she is, in fact, a person with a thing for bums, James Potter's bum—a neat, compact, beautifully fashioned marvel that looks like a peach in those bloody jeans (what monster let him go out in public wearing those things?)—should not have been the catalyst for this discovery, because James Potter is an immature sod, a walking headache, and a bloody annoying git. He and his gang of mates are childish boors, and Lily considers herself to be quite above their general tomfoolery.

She doesn't want to stare, but her eyes won't cooperate.

She likes it, and as she's quite certain that she doesn't much like James Potter, that makes even less sense than the school’s policy on using quills in a world where ballpoint pens exist. Would that she could deny it to herself… but Lily is not deluded. She can recognise the pleasure she's deriving for exactly what it is.

And that is just… not acceptable.

And how dare he, really?

"James Potter," she says hotly, finding herself suddenly and inexplicably compelled to acknowledge his existence, point him out, say his name, anything, "is a complete and utter toerag."

"What?" says Beatrice, who has been counting coins in the palm of her hand.

"Potter is a toerag," Lily repeats, even as she's telling herself to stop, shut up, why are you letting these words come out of your mouth? "I can't believe McGonagall even let him come here after the prank he pulled the other day."

"He got a bunch of detentions," says Mary, eyeing Lily curiously.

"Isn't that enough?" seconds Bea.

"Why are you so angry?" Mary adds. "What's he done to you?"

"Nothing, he's just an arse."

That's an unfortunate choice of words, Lily thinks, colouring nicely.

"Right, but he's always an arse," Mary presses on. "Why are you so angry about it now?"

"Nothing," Lily repeats, "but he just walked by and it reminded me that he's been pissing me off lately."

"If you say so, I suppose," says Mary, looking nonplussed, but a giggling Beatrice sticks her free hand in the air, waving as if to signal a rescue ship.

"Oi, Potter!" she bellows.

Several heads, including James Potter's, turn in their direction.

"Potter!" Beatrice repeats, waving him over.

Lily's heart leaps into her throat, gets stuck, and slides sheepishly back down to her chest.

"What are you doing?" she hisses, taking a swipe at Beatrice's arm.

"If you're pissed off with him, you should tell him to his face," says Bea, dodging out of Lily's grasp to beckon Potter over. "More fun for me that way."

Mary snorts, while Beatrice grins like a cunning fox. Meanwhile, Potter has left his friends to wait for him outside the Three Broomsticks, and is sauntering over with his hands in his pockets.

"I hate you," Lily mutters to Bea.

"That's right," says Bea, smiling broadly, "get it all out of your system."

"I don't want to talk to Potter."

"Then you shouldn't have been mouthing off abo—hey!" says Beatrice brightly, as Potter draws level with their group. "Look who it is!"

"Hello to my adoring fans," he says, with a grin that would be charming, if only it were spread across any other face, and widens considerably when his gaze lands on Lily. "Alright, Evans?"

Potter has been doing this lately, offering bog-standard greetings to the masses, then following them up with, "Alright, Evans?" as if he’s been compelled to single Lily out.

Knowing him, there's some wildly nefarious reason behind it, and Lily persists in believing that despite Bea's insane theories pertaining to thoughts and feelings of the romantic persuasion.

"It means a lot that you don't consider me a fan," she says coolly.

"It's not my place to tell all your secrets," Potter replies. "What did you buy?"

She frowns. "What?"

"In Scrivenshaft's." He nods to the shop behind her. "What did you buy?"

"That's none of your business."

"Oh, right, because Scrivenshaft's is known for selling top secret wizarding spy equipment, and the world as we know it will end if you tell me," he says, sending her a flat look. "Why'd you call me over?"

Lily has to force the corners of her mouth to stay determinedly downturned, rather than laugh, which she really wants to do. "I didn't call you over."

"Didn't you?"

"No, you idiot. Beatrice did."

"That's strange. Could've sworn it was you." His eyes haven't budged from her face for a second, and Lily is beginning to feel irrationally fearful that he's seen her ogling his arse. "Why'd Beatrice call me over?"

"Because Lily wants to talk to you," says Beatrice.

Lily wants to die on the spot.

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