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deceasedanddesist · 3 years

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stuck in detention ( james potter )

this is for @ladyvesuvia’s 400 follower writing challenge! although she has 700 now :)

pairing: james potter x ravenclaw!reader

gender neutral!reader: if you see any mistakes let me know and i’ll fix it

warnings: none

notes: if you saw this when i accidentally posted it unfinished….. no you didn’t. also this is unedited and i wrote it on my phone so my grammar is going to be shit.

word count:

heres the thing;

you never actually meant to get detention, you swore to merlin himself that breaking your boyfriends ( who, conveniently, is now your ex boyfriend ) nose was a completely an accident.

it seems as though saying your “hand slipped” didn’t really sell it to professor flitwick, and to ashton davies, who now has an undeserved vendetta against you.

so what? in case he forgot, he was the one who cheated on you, and didn’t even seem the tiniest bit remorseful about it! but it didn't bother you, if anything, you knew it was coming. after months of him telling you how you were too intense, and making you suppress your personality because it was “too suffocating for him to be around”. you just got so sick of it, rightfully bloody so in your opinion. but because professor flitwick didn’t agree, you were stuck in detention during the first quidditch game of the year! your team, out on the pitch, without their captain, against gryffindor of all houses.

curse james potter and his stunningly good training regimen, you figured he was basking in the glory of not having to deal with you. he’s probably gloating to his team right now, and you could picture the frustratingly fit face that is going to be haunting your brain after ravenclaw looses.

its not that you are not confident in your team, because, you were very proud of their progress and you were very sure they are capable of kicking gryffindors arse. but at the end of the day, at team is like a puzzle, if one piece is missing, there is no way for it to become cohesive. and without their team captain, you really couldn’t predict the fate of your team.

thats why, you were in a pretty glum mood on your way to the library. you figured flitwick took pity on you when he gave you library duty, after all, it probably was the only thing he could see you enjoy doing for detention. not that you were always reading or something, that was the most hated stereotype among most ravenclaws. most of you guys don’t even read, but you can find a certain kind of solace in a good book that you don’t get with anything else.

walking in, you greeted madam pince with a small smile before continuing to the back where you knew a giant stack of books were waiting for you to organize.

as you made your way through the shelves, you heard a loud yelp, but when you looked back at madam pince she was just staring at you with a watchful eye.

you cautiously continued, but you speed up into a jog when a groan followed. you whipped around the corner to come face to face with james potter himself, flailing his limbs under a pile of books.

“potter?” you questioned, “you’re supposed to be on the pitch acting like an idiot, why are you doing it here?”

the boy on the floor scoffed in reply, holding his and out to you.

you stared at it awkwardly, brows furrowed.

“mind giving me a hand here, (l/n)?”

“oh!” your hand shot out to help haul his body up, you were pretty much half of his size so you didn’t know why he reached out to you.

“so, what are you in for?” he joked, but looked as if he was expecting an answer, so you gave him one.

“slept in.” you shrugged.

hey, you didn’t say you would tell him the truth!

“i find that hard to believe,” james huffed, “(y/n)(l/n), sleeping in? right before the first quidditch game of your seventh year?”

you wanted to be mad at him, but for as much of an airhead he is, the boy read you like a book. there was no way, rhyme, or reason you would be sleeping instead of going over quidditch plays or berating your team.

perhaps intense was the correct way to describe you after all, and fuck ashton davies for making you realize it after he cheated on you. you honestly wouldn’t of had a problem with it if he had decided to man up and actually break up with you before he slept with someone else.

you must have been lost in your thoughts for a minute, because james was snapping his fingers in front of your face.

“hello? earth to (y/n).”

“sorry. but enough about me,” first you lie, and if that doesn’t work ( it usually does) you evade further questioning. “how did you get in here, don’t act like i’m tougher on my team than you.”

“yeah, we’re both hard-asses.” he agrees, “i accidentally set someones hair on fire in transfiguration.”

you opened your mouth to ask, but ultimately ended up keeping it yourself, james seemed to approve.

“you don’t want to know.” you nodded, and that was that.

you began to pick up the books from the floor and place them back into the boxes that james seemed to have knocked over. they were labeled and you probably would have thought it was fairly easy at first glance, but judging by the amount of boxes and your clumsy detention partner, you estimated it would keep you for at least a few hours, if not the whole day.

after you filled the potions box with the correlating textbooks, you made your way to the designated section of the library. you started to place the books in alphabetical order by author, and just when you placed ‘advanced potion making’ by libatius borage on the shelf, it immediately flung off the shelf and straight into what would have been your face if you hadn’t moved at the last minute.

after you got over the shock of an almost broken nose ( which you found very ironic ), your head whipped around to a very shocked james at the end of the isle you were standing in.

he visibly got paler once the realization of what happened set in, but before you could confront him, he had set of into a run.

so, you did what any sensible and composed person would do, and you chased after him.

although he has longer legs, your endurance was unmatched. and this was proven when he started to slow down after five minutes, but without realizing you were right on his tail, he stopped. you sucked in a breath to brace yourself before you collided with him, and the next thing you knew the both of you were toppling to the floor.

james groaned as you rolled off of his chest and onto the floor beside him as madam pince rushed over to find out where the commotion was coming from.

“its actually surprisingly clean down here.” you noted as madam pince stared down at you and james with upmost displeasure.

she muttered something along the lines of “why did i take this job” and “i hate children” as she walked back to her desk, still shaking her head.

james waited until she was out of sight before bursting out into laughter.

““its actually surprisingly clean down here”? really?” the boy was practically crying now, a great contradiction to your pure confusion. you had never made someone laugh like this before, your friends only ever giggling out of pity at your odd observations.

when his fit was over, he cocked his head at you and made a face. albeit, you were probably looking at him weird, but who wouldn’t be. you only ever knew him as an opponent, as the two of you shared the same position in quidditch. chasers were a pertinent part of the game, and you and james potter were both the only second years accepted onto the house teams. it made you wonder if you were just imagining all of competitiveness, and now, in the midst of your very last year, just realizing it.

“what?” he looked more confused than you at this point, so you decided to let him in on your thought process.

apparently, your mouth had other plans, because what came out of it was “i punched ashton davies in the face.”

“what!” he yelled, resulting in a ‘shhhhhhh’ in reply from pince.

“thats why i’m in detention, i broke his nose.”

to your surprise, he smiled “i knew you didn’t sleep in, you wouldn’t let down your team like that.”

you scoffed, “it doesn’t matter james, i still let them down. i should have controlled my anger.”

he shook his head, “look, i don’t know much about you, but i do know you’re a reasonable person.” you sighed, so he continued, “let me rephrase: if you broke someones nose, there has to be a good reason, because theres no way you’d miss your last first game.”

“yeah, you’re right.” you said as you got up, brushing yourself off before holding out a hand to him, “he deserved it.”

another laugh from the boy behind you, “i’m sure he did.”

you smiled, checked the time, told james your time was up, and headed back to the front of the library. though, when you guys turned the corner both of you were faced with flitwick and mcgonagall, who told you that fooling around wasn’t to be tolerated and the two of you would be spending your weekend in detention to finish the job.

as you left, you found yourself in the best mood you’ve been in all year, and to your surprise, you found yourself actually some what excited for this weekend’s detention.

#james potter #james potter x reader #marauders era #hogwarts #harry potter

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damn-stark · 3 years

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To new friends

Chapter 6 of Different Light

A/N- So I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before, but I am going to have some events from the books in this series, just to add more angst and more fun. So if you read parts that don’t show up in the movie, it’s becaue it’s either what I wrote, or something that happened in the books 👍🏽 hope you guys like the chapter and don’t be afraid to leave your thoughts!

Warning- Angst, SLOWBURN.

Pairing- Harry Potter x Malfoy!reader, Fred Weasley x Malfoy!reader

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

As the blissful daze of the Yule ball night passed, the last few free days passed swiftly, taking the memory of Fred’s kiss on your lips with it. Leaving nothing behind but the mental memory of such a delightful moment.

Albeit it was also a moment that wasn’t talked about any day after, classes started again and days would get busier for both Fred and you. Of course you didn’t want to force him into talking about it, you wanted the topic to come out, just effortlessly. Fred treated you kinder; that’s something you noticed, he was way more touchy than before. Usually before when you would sit next to each other, there was no contact whatsoever—sure your arms, or thighs brushed against each other’s, but that was it.

Now when Fred sat next to you in the great hall, or really anywhere else, he would place his hand on top of yours, or hook his pinky fingers with yours; sometimes he would place his arm on top the seat you were sitting on, but that was about it. Fred didn’t try and repeat what happened that night, or try and gloat about it. He simply just didn’t talk about it.

Which led you to think; what did he intend with that kiss?

You want to ask him, but then again you fear the answer he could give.

It’s not like you could ask George. One, because he was Fred’s twin brother and two, you didn’t want to put George in that position. It’d be better if he wasn’t in the middle, things would just flow much easier that way.

You still wanted help, but from who? Narcissa? You could specifically leave Fred’s name out and just ask for advice, but as you further thought about it, asking your mother wasn’t the best option; yet.

That left you with the lingering question of, who then?

“Y/N.”

At the sound of the small, sweet voice calling to you, you’re thrown from your train of thought and left to look over your shoulder and notice, Hermione Granger, striding towards you. At first you don’t know what to do, you’re actually utterly confused on what to do and why she has called you. But realization hits you as she finally falls by your side and offers you a small sweet smile—you had helped her that night of the Yule ball. She said words you’d never forget.

Regardless you didn’t really think you helping her that night was enough for her to reach out to you now. Maybe just simple “hellos” when you passed by the halls, but you didn’t think she’d actually call your name and hurry to reach you. That gesture was still so unfamiliar and new to you.

You smile and greet her however, regardless of how your thoughts churn. “Hello.”

“I saw you pass just now and thought it’d be nice to walk with you to Arithmancy.” Hermione explained kindly. “Is that alright with you?”

Of course!

You smile shyly and nod. “Yeah that's alright.” You feel your cheeks burn and a need to just walk in silence, but you also were desperate to make friends who weren’t just Fred and George—“I never got the chance to ask, did you enjoy the Yule ball? Before everything went down I mean.”

Hermione smiles wider and nods. “Yes it was absolutely great. I had a lot of fun. What about you? Fred mentioned he was going with you, how was that?”

“Oh well,” you smile shyly at the memory of that night. “It was amazing, Fred was a good partner.”

A new thought then invades your mind—you could ask her for help. Even ask her if she heard anything Fred mentioned of that night. After all they were part of the same house. She’s got to know a thing or two, right?

“Do—”

“Fred said you were a great partner too,” Hermione mentions as if she has read your mind. “He said he enjoyed that night with you.”

At the sound of her comment, you feel your cheeks burn increasingly hotter. You’re left stunned for a moment, left giddy and speechless, left trying to collect your thoughts and like you could explode from the inside—you had heard him say he enjoyed that night, but hearing that he had said that to other people just made it seem even more special. The knowledge of what he said made you smile wider. It made you want to know more.“Did he say anything else?” You turn your head to look at her and you see her shake her head.

“No, I’m sorry. He and his friends moved away before I could hear more.”

You hum softly and assure her. “It’s okay, thank you for telling me what he said though.”

Hermione just smiles as response before she changes the subject, not giving you the chance to ask for her help in your still troubled dilema. “What are you reading?”

You look down to the Daily Prophet in your hand and shrug. With all your running thoughts, you didn’t have time to read what you had in your hand. “I don’t know, I haven’t had time to read what,” you lift the newspaper and scoff, “Rita Skeeter wrote it, probably just rubbish anyway.”

Just as you’re about to shove it in between your books, Hermione stops you before snatching the paper from your hand. “Wait, what does this evil witch have to say now.”

Out of new grown curiosity, you look over her shoulder as she begins to read the paper outloud; “DUMBLEDORE'S GIANT MISTAKE

Albus Dumbledore, eccentric Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has never been afraid to make controversial staff appointments, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. In September of this year, he hired Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody, the notoriously jinx-happy ex-Auror, to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, a decision that caused many raised eyebrows at the Ministry of Magic, given Moody's well-known habit of attacking anybody who makes a sudden movement in his presence. Mad-Eye Moody, however, looks responsible and kindly when set beside the part-human Dumbledore employs to teach Care of Magical Creatures.

Rubeus Hagrid, who admits to being expelled from Hogwarts in his third year, has enjoyed the position of gamekeeper at the school ever since, a job secured for him by Dumbledore. Last year, however, Hagrid used his mysterious influence over the headmaster to secure the additional post of Care of Magical Creatures teacher, over the heads of many better-qualified candidates.

An alarmingly large and ferocious-looking man, Hagrid has been using his newfound authority to terrify the students in his care with a succession of horrific creatures. While Dumbledore turns a blind eye, Hagrid has maimed several pupils during a series of lessons that many admit to being "very frightening."

'I was attacked by a hippogriff, and my friend Vincent Crabbe got a bad bite off a flobberworm," says Draco Malfoy, a fourth-year student. "We all hate Hagrid, but we're just too scared to say anything—”

Your eyes widen at the sound of your brother's name and anything else read after that just tunes out. The news of Hagrid being a half giant doesn’t even bug you, or register in your mind as someone dangerous (because he wasn’t). All you focused on was what lies your, weasel of a little brother had to say. It makes your furious, feel steam come out of your ears and feel your fists shake. The news on the paper even makes Hermione upset; albeit her reasons differed from yours.

Clearly—“how-how did she find out!” Before you could give your opinion, Hermione quietly seemed to ramble to herself, only raising her voice at specific points. “Maybe she heard him telling Madame Maxine at the ball—but no, they would have seen her, she’s not even...” her voice goes quiet again and you’re left looking at her bewildered and still taken back yourself. As well as intrigued by what she had to say. Surprised by her suddenly asking you a probing question. “Did you see Rita Skeeter that day of the ball?”

You blink out of surprise, but manage to shake your head. “No, I didn’t. But maybe she was hiding in some bushes, like an odd-ball.”

Hermione bites her lip and shrugs before giving an opinion herself. “Maybe she has some type of invisibility cloak?”

You shrug, “maybe. I mean to get such a scoop on people, she’s got to have something up her sleeve.”

Hermione's eyes narrow and she seems to go into deep thinking before she comes up with a suggestion that surprised you even more. “We should try and figure it out. You’re smart, I’m sure if we got together, we’d figure it out.”

You scoff lightheartedly and stop before entering your intended class. “Why the need to get the scoop on her?”

“Because,” Hermione blurted passionately, “it’s not the first time she’s done something like this. Mysteriously getting news on people. She’s wicked and needs to be stopped.”

You smirk at her fiery spirit and can’t help but give in without much need of further convincing. “Alright, I’ll help. It sounds like fun.”

——

The day of the second game came and you couldn’t be dreading this one more. It was too cold and what was the point of having an audience? The players were going to be underwater and if they somehow have a way for you and the rest of the students to look in the depths of the lake without having to go in along with the players, then what was the point?

You were just going to unnecessarily freeze to basically watch players dive.

“ANY BETS! ANY BETS!”

“PLACE YOUR BETS!” George and Fred shouted in a booming voice to the passing students.

Yet with all you’re complaining, here you were, still teamed up with the twins trying to take bets from students.

“THREE LADS!”

“ONE LADY!”

“FOUR ARE GOING DOWN!”

You would’ve joined into their tactics, but you didn’t feel like screaming, so instead you held onto the box for them, watching them as you moved up and the students moved down towards the boats. Stopping only when their sister shoved past them and stopped to remark their rude persuading screams. “Don’t be so mean.”

The twins and you looked back to Ginny and you couldn’t help but agree, but the twins on the other hand turned back around and continued screaming to try and convince others to place bets. Stopping only minutes before the last boat could leave the dock.

“Finally,” you groan as you close the box and shove it in George’s hands. “I thought we’d never finish.”

Fred scoffs, “come on, you’ve got to admit that doing this makes the games more fun.”

“Hardly.” You retort as you shove your hands in your jackets pockets, “freezing to watch water is something I would hardly call fun.”

“You’re in luck then.” George assures you, “the game should be an hour long.”

You groan one last time before you reach the boats, looking to Fred as he pointed for you to get on first. “Ladies first.” He smirks before he follows after you, waiting lastly for George to go on before the person driving the boat began its short trip to the already packed and rowdy stands.

Luckily not having to wait too long for the game to start and beginning to watch with much more anticipation and stress than you intended after you watched Harry clumsily fall into the lake. While Draco, who was two people away from you laughed and pointed at Harry’s clumsy fall, causing you to shoot him a side glare. One he didn’t catch, but you meant with a burning dedication. He only shut up when Harry shot up after his worrying fall into the water, causing an uproar from the students rooting for his win. Albeit seconds after he splashed in, everyone, including yourself were filled with stomach twisting anticipation for anyone’s resurface from the water with their special lost thing.

You were also left with waiting, and endless waiting, growing colder as time ticked.

“Cold?” Fred asked you.

You looked to him and shivered slightly at the feeling of the bitter wind hitting your face. “what do you think?”

A half, smug smile tugged on his lips and he shrugs. “No, I don’t think you are.”

“Then there's your answer.” You cross your arms over your chest and look out to the lake, feeling your shoulders jump slightly moments later when Fred wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer to him.

“Better?”

You feel your cheeks burn and your heart skip a beat. It’s hard to think of what to say at the flustered feeling you got at the interaction, but you somehow manage to respond. Albeit stammering and sounding like you were terrified. “Y-yes, much better.”

You didn’t see but Fred grinned at your response. Choosing to stay quiet for the remainder of the game until the first contestant surfaced from the water; Cedric Diggory and Cho—you clapped, but didn’t feel much excitement like others did. Instead you felt as if your stomach twisted tighter knowing that the game was close to over and Harry hadn’t surfaced yet.

Krum and...Hermione surfaced and you clapped excitedly for her, but you were still left with the increasing worrying, glancing repeatedly at the time and waiting as others did. Hearing whispers and the excitement for the game dwindled the more time passed and Harry showed no sign.

The worry now surrounding the crowd was replaced by short relief when Ron and a little girl surfaced, but that was short lived since Harry’s presence was lacking. It made you part from Fred’s side and grip onto the railing to look down into the water to watch and wait—and yes he was just a boy you hardly knew, hardly talked to and just thought of as cute and nice, a bit clumsy and dorky, but...you couldn’t help but worry and—

Before you could get deeper into your thoughts, Harry Potter shot up from the water and finally relieved the worry and stress that had grown increasingly higher those past few minutes. Making you push yourself off the railing to finally clap and cheer, turning to celebrate the win with the twins for a brief moment before you’re interrupted by Dumbledore's booming voice. “Attention! The winner is Mr. Diggory!”

The crowd for Cedric erupted with claps and cheering for him and his win. All them were forced to quiet down though as Dumbledore continued. “Who showed the need to command of the bubble head charm. However seeing as Mr.Potter would have finished first, should it not been for his determination to rescue not only Mr. Weasley, but the others as well, we’ve agreed to award him second place! For outstanding moral fiber!”

Again the crowd erupted into a roaring cheering, causing the twins to five each other and you in a form to celebrate. Ignoring as Draco, bitterly stormed off after the announcement of his rival's achievement. While the three didn’t waste a second for the twins and you to push through the crowd to walk down to where Harry, and the other contestants and the people they saved were.

The twins rushed first, greeting Harry with loud congratulating cheers and a tight hug that they backed from after feeling Harry all wet; letting them turn to their brother and in their own foolish way, worry over his well-being. Letting you be face to face with Harry and instantly feel a hotter heat crawl onto your face before and while you found the words to talk to him.

“That was amazing Harry! You did great!” You grinned, stepping into wrap your arms around him, but stopping as you took in his soaked figure.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, “I wouldn’t, I’m soaked.” A timid and wobbly smile tugged on his lips and he continued. “Thank you though, y/n.”

You offer him another warm smile and last lingering stare before you rip your eyes away and turn your attention to Herimone next to him.

——

“Right on, all that moral fiber, eh?” George teased Harry as he walked onto the deck.

“That’s great.” Fred chuckled.

You smirk and tag along with the teasing. “All that moral fiber.”

“Blimey, even if you go wrong it turns out right.” Ron voiced with a slight smile.

“Well done, moral fiber.” Fred teased before lightly pushing Harry and then walking off with his brothers, Hermione and you, leaving Harry behind.

You wanted to look back, but before you could Fred’s hand on your arm interrupted your attempts before you could accomplish them. “So, y/n, I was thinking,” he began to say in a soft voice that was rare for him to speak in and off putting for you to hear. “How about we go to Hogsmeade together?”

You blink and begin to fall behind from the group, parting your lips to speak, but coming out with nothing but a breath of air. Proceeding to instead gently rub your arm nervously and letting your eyes flicker from the ground to Fred before managing to speak just as nervously. “Like George, you and I?”

Fred chuckles and shakes his head. “No you goof, just you and I.”

Your cheeks burn again and you giggle and whisper, “oh,” before smiling warmly and nodding. “Sure I like the sound of that, when?”

Fred shrugged, trying to hide his cocky smile. “I’ll let you know, alright?”

You nod, “okay.” Before you both catch up to the group you had been with, picking up your pace smoothly, so you could catch up with a grinning Hermione that already knew by the smile on Fred and your faces what had gone on.

In that moment letting a thought begin to unroll in the back of your mind. Not one having to do with Fred, nor George or Harry. But about Hermione. Odd thing especially after getting asked out by Fred, but it was a thought that just grew; even if Hermione and you had just started talking and a friendship was beginning to develop. It still felt refreshing, assuring and exciting that you had someone else as a friend. Someone who could relate to you in other ways Fred, or George couldn’t. You felt happy that you were beginning to be her friend, that she viewed you like hers and not like the other girls would in Durmstrang. She viewed you like a friend now. She viewed you differently.

——

“HARRY POTTER IN A BURNING LOVE TRIANGLE

A boy like no other, perhaps - yet a boy suffering all the usual pangs of adolescence, writes Rita Skeeter. Deprived of love since the tragic demise of his parents, fourteen-year-old Harry Potter thought he had found solace in his steady girlfriend at Hogwarts, Muggle-born Hermione Granger. Little did he know that he would suffer through a trouble bigger than any he has faced, choosing who to love and who to leave behind broken hearted.

In the recent events of the Triwizard tournament, Harry has been spotted in the arms of new transfer student to Hogwarts, Y/N Malfoy. At first it had seemed that it was nothing but platonic, but their affectionate embrace and caring and lovable words told us otherwise. Yet as loving as they are, Harry is still caught in the middle between Herimone Granger, who is not innocent as she portrays to be.

Miss Granger, a plain but ambitious girl, seems to have a taste for famous wizards that Harry alone cannot satisfy. Since the arrival at Hogwarts of Viktor Krum, Bulgarian Seeker and hero of the last World Quidditch Cup, Miss Granger has been toying with both boys' affections. Krum, who is openly smitten with the devious Miss Granger, has already invited her to visit him in Bulgaria over the summer holidays, and insists that he has "never felt this way about any other girl."

However, it might not be Miss Granger's doubtful natural charms that have captured these unfortunate boys' interest.

"She's really ugly," says Pansy Parkinson, a pretty and vivacious fourth-year student, "but she'd be well up to making a Love Potion, she's quite brainy. I think that's how she's doing it."

Love Potions are, of course, banned at Hogwarts, and no doubt Albus Dumbledore will want to investigate these claims. In the meantime, Harry Potters well-wishers must hope that he opens his eyes and sets his heart upon his Slytherin lover.

No. No. No. This can’t be happening. No. Your father...your mother….your father. He’s going to kill you before disowning you. No. This isn’t what you wanted. Even if it was false information when it came to your part of the paper, it was still going to get to your parents before you had the chance to explain. You’ve done good to hide the truth of your friendships from them when Draco snitches, but this...this can ruin everything and take you back to Durmstrang.

“If that’s the best Rita can do, she’s losing her touch,” Herimone says, beginning to giggle and causing you to snap your head from the paper to look at her with a perplexed, widened gaze. “What a pile of old rubbish.” She proceeds to take the paper from your hands and throws the paper into an empty chair. The action leaving you shocked and speechless—wasn’t she worried to?

On how Rita Skeeter found out about the obvious private conversation that went on between her and Krum? Why wasn’t she worried like you?

“Why-why are you so calm?” You manage to ask with your perplexed and widened gaze.

Hermione looks over to a group of Slytherins to see if they’d be upset by the article. Hermione gave them a sarcastic smile and a wave, and turned back to pretend to focus on the parchment in front of the both of you to finally talk without giving your question an answer. “There’s something funny though, how could Rita Skeeter have known?” Her face went red and she pressed her quil to her chin. “How did she know Viktor asked me to visit him in the summer?”

You shrug and push your worry aside for now, “maybe someone’s her spy?”

Herimone shakes her head, “no, couldn’t be, he pulled me away from the judges after we got our blankets and we were in a spot surrounded by his friends. They’d never do anything to Viktor.” Her face grew increasingly more red and her eyebrows furrowed deeper as she mindlessly pressed her quil on the parchment now. “But how could Rita have heard. She wasn’t there...or was she? Maybe she’s got an invisibility cloak?”

“Perhaps,” you muse along with her, “but there were too many people on that platform, someone would have bumped into her and found her out.” You tap your fingers on the tabletop as you begin to brainstorm a possibility, muttering to Hermione as you did so. “What exactly happened after Krum and you got out of the water?”

Herimone began to explain every exact detail of the events after Krum got her out of the water. Every single detail from climbing onto the platform, to mentioning that Krum flicked a beetle off her wet hair and lastly the moment you had finally come along.

“Hmm,” you rest your elbow on the table and rest your head on your hand as you continue to think and throw out ideas that came to your mind. “Well there wasn’t much room for her to hide at all. She couldn’t be under the water, and it’s doubtful she used polyjuice.”

“You’re right.” Hermione agrees.

At a incoming thought you begin to snicker, “maybe she temporarily transformed into your towel.”

Suddenly Hermione shoots up and her eyes gleam with what seems to be excitement. She steps towards you and manages to pull you off your chair to hold your hands in hers and basically shout out. “I’ve got it!”

“Hermione Granger and Miss Malfoy, please be quiet unless you both want detention!” The professor scolds you, making Herimone quietly apologize before she pulls you back to your seat and continues quietly. Disregarding the warning you both had just gotten.

“She couldn’t have turned into a towel, or risked using polyjuice, but she could have transformed into something else. Something smaller and easy to blend in and be disregarded by any person.”

You blink in astonishment by her quick thinking and fast investigating skills. You don’t say anything, just listen completely mesmerized.

“Rita Skeeter was the beetle in my hair,” Herimone whispers in a loud excited whisper, “of course I thought nothing of it before because it was just a bug, but now it all makes sense; how she can catch all the scoop and hide without without being seen. She’s an animagus.”

You smirk and squeeze in your own thoughts. “Probably an unregistered one too, or else Dumblrdore would have taken extra precautions to keep her off the castle grounds.”

“Yes!” Hermione exclaims with a joyful and yet mischievous grin, “she kept her secret well until now. I’m going to make sure that she doesn’t have another chance to spread any more cruel, dishonest stories.”

“What do you mean?” You gasp with a deeply puzzled and slightly fearful face.

“I’m going to make sure she doesn’t write any more stories from here until the tournament ends. I’m going to catch Rita.” She explains in a loud whisper once again with a dangerous mischievous look still painted in her eyes. “Do you want to catch her with me?”

“I,” you pause to think before you have the chance to abruptly answer. Beginning to go over the fact in your head, that Rita didn’t also make a lie about Hermione, but one about you. One that could cost you heavily. And the days before Herimone asked about helping her, you were down to pair up with Hermione because you didn’t want to lose a friend. Now you were doing it because, well you didn’t want to lose a friend and two, you had motivation of your own.

A smirk creeps onto your face and you meet Herimone’s gaze to share that same dangerous mischievous gaze. “I’m going to catch Rita with you.”

Even if you knew you were still going to get hell from your parents….especially your father.

Tagged- @peter-laufeyson , @swiftlymoniquesblog , @spideyyypeter , @gsvshsjsbs, @accio-prozac , @cherriesanwine , @kokomaesadie , @april-14-blog , @prettypinkpeachh , @pest-ill-ence , @ilovespideyyy

#Harry Potter #harry potter and the goblet of fire #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter x malfoy!reader #fred weasley x malfoy!reader #fred weasley fanfiction #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #harry potter x you #harry potter x y/n #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagines #different light #Draco #Herimone granger #Malfoy!reader #angst #SLOWBURN

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taexual · 4 years

Text

i’d love you to stay but that’s simply insane // JJK (11)

jungkook is an uncontrollable lead vocalist of the campus band, and you’re a goal-oriented top student that’s known his rich and complicated family since childhood. you don’t want anything to do with each other, until each other is exactly what you want to do.

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: college au

warnings: some angst and irrational jealousy

words: 5.2k

chapter eleven

Your presentation with Namjoon the next day was a success – which was almost a given, considering how much work the two of you had put into it – and, to celebrate that it finally ended, you went out for some coffee in the afternoon. The campus café was packed at a time like this but both of you were still buzzing from the adrenaline of having to present in front of the whole class, so you barely noticed anyone else.

“I’m so glad we presented last,” you said and then sighed in content after you tasted your caramel beverage. “That left no time for anyone to ask any questions since everyone just wanted to go home faster.”

Namjoon chuckled. “I know. That’s the only benefit of having to spend the entire class stressed and anxious.”

You groaned at the realization of how many nerve cells you’d lost today. “Thank God that’s over now.”

“Yeah, it’s—” he started to say and was suddenly cut off by a sharp flashing sound from somewhere behind you, accompanied by a bright flicker of light that illuminated—and blinded—the boy in front of you for just a second.

You blinked in shock – both from the flash and from the realization that someone had just taken a picture of you two – and turned around, your eyes widening in surprise.

Behind you, a group of flustered freshmen huddled close to each other as they sprinted out of the café, their phones in hands. They looked back at you as they went, quickly turning away as soon as they caught your eye.

“What the hell was that?” you asked, turning back around.

“Some wannabe paparazzi, I’m assuming,” Namjoon said, rubbing his eyes with the pillows of his index fingers, “with some audacity. They didn’t even bother to check if the flash was on.”

“This whole week has been very weird,” you said, glancing over your shoulder again, so you could watch the group through the window – they had piled together in the front-yard of the café and were, most likely, adding unflattering filters to the picture they just took – and then you returned your attention to your friend, all while shaking your head, “but that still has to be the weirdest thing that happened to me. Why would they do something like that?”

“Hard to find a sensible reason,” Namjoon said, his voice empathetic, “but if I had to guess, then I’d say they’re trying to stir something up with that picture.”

“How?” you asked and then realized. “Oh, because I’m here with you?”

“Yeah.”

You rolled your eyes, finding it hard to believe that you were in your final years of university, and the people around you – albeit younger than you – still behaved like they were characters in a high school drama.

“Jesus,” you mumbled dejectedly and took your paper cup of coffee into your shaky hands, sipping it slowly in hopes that the hot liquid would calm you down. You set the cup back down again after a minute, however, because it had no effect on your nerves at all. “Are there no clubs they’d like to join? Nothing else they would want to spend their time doing? I mean, how bored are they?”

Namjoon cleared his throat, feeling awkward for not having suitable answers to any of your questions and for putting you in this position in the first place. “I, uh—yeah. Very bored, probably. I’m sorry.”

You gave him a perplexed glance – his apology had confused you – and noticed how uncomfortable he looked as he avoided your eyes and drew indiscernible patterns on the table with his finger.

“Why are you apologizing?” you tried asking softly. “This isn’t your fault.”

He knew that, of course, but that didn’t alleviate his discomfort. “No, I just feel like I’m partially responsible for that picture because I suggested we get coffee here.”

“You could have never guessed that people would be weird enough to do this,” you countered, feeling even worse now that this incident has made him wish he hadn’t come here with you. “If anything, it’s me who should be apologizing for dragging you into this. I’m honestly struggling to understand why they care so much but I shouldn’t have—”

Namjoon protested, “no, don’t feel guilty about this.”

You stopped to really consider his words.

The two of you were sitting here, apologizing to each other, when, the truth was, neither of you was responsible for the sheer shallowness of the people around you. You had no influence when they were placing their priorities and you couldn’t be blamed for what happened just because these people valued a good campus scandal more than an A in Calculus.

“Yeah. You’re right. I didn’t do anything wrong,” you declared, “and neither did you. Do you want to take a walk instead of sitting here?” you asked then, relieved that you chose to get your coffees to-go instead of drinking them from those pretty but very fragile-looking porcelain cups that several girls were snapping pictures of a few tables away.

An impressed smile appeared on his face after your suggestion; you knew your self-worth. And Namjoon – in the least condescending way possible – admired that greatly.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” he said with a nod at the window of the café. “The weather’s nice.”

Thankfully, the incident at the café did not repeat itself when the two of you strolled around campus, talking and drinking your coffees in peace. You ended up getting into a conversation so deep – Namjoon was telling you about how his roommate, Seokjin, had purchased an unidentified plant from the flower shop off-campus and was convinced he was now growing marijuana in his room – you didn’t even notice when you finished your drink and it was time for you to say goodbye and head back home.

It was very nice to talk to someone – other than Inna – who shared your point-of-view on most things, but still remained calm and respectful when the conversation turned to something you didn’t exactly agree on. You weren’t used to that. Even Inna, who was normally understanding and open-minded, had a strong opinion on certain things and, sometimes, she got defensive if you disagreed.

Jungkook was a whole different specimen: if someone said something he didn’t like, he was going to defend his stance with impressive – and, frankly, intimidating – fury. Being near him could always make your blood boil, your pupils dilate, and your heart start skipping beats.

Talking to him could sometimes make you wish you could jump off a building – just so you wouldn’t have to look at his shit-eating grin anymore – but it also reminded you that you were alive. It was like bungee-jumping. Like swimming with the sharks.

Apparently, you were an adrenaline junkie, and – as you reluctantly admitted to yourself – he was the adrenaline fix you needed.

When you got back to your building – still thinking about Jungkook even after you’d spent half a day with Namjoon – and entered the elevator, you had your mind set on watching a distracting movie so you could push Jungkook out of your thoughts. You haven’t seen him these past few days and, clearly, it was starting to get to you.

And that was precisely when you nearly fell right back into the elevator cabin after you stepped out and saw the sight in front of you – you thought your abstinence from Jungkook had caused you to hallucinate.

“Oh, you’re finally here.”

Jungkook stood up from the spot next to your door when he saw you emerge down the hall.

You hadn’t expected the boy that haunted your mind to manifest himself right in front of you, so you couldn’t form a single coherent sentence. But you still tried, “w-what are—w-why—”

“I called,” he said as a way of explaining. “You didn’t answer.”

You remembered hearing this when he showed up at your dorm the first time, prompting a very awkward three-way exchange between him, Namjoon, and you. Granted, now that the awkward component was out, this gesture could have made your heart flutter but, really, it felt more like a—pleasant—stab into your chest.

“I, uh, I left my phone in the dorm,” you said, your hands seeming useless when you had no device to hold. “You have to stop coming here whenever I don’t answer my phone, though.”

A confident grin appeared on his lips but his eyes – the true mirror into his heart – were begging.

“Why?” he asked only half teasingly as his gaze seemed to pulsate with need to hear you say that you wanted him here. “Am I not welcome?”

You remembered – and instantly discarded – your plan to watch a distracting movie, and shook your head.

“No,” you said. You wanted him here. It was any thought or activity, distracting you from him, that wasn’t welcome. “I just feel bad for making you wait.”

Pleased with the answer – and not even trying to conceal it as the warmth on the edges of his pupils spread like honey throughout both of his eyes – Jungkook pushed his hands into his pockets.

“It’s fine,” he said and then added, almost carelessly, “I thought something could have happened to you. You’re not one to forget your phone. So, I came to check.”

“Yeah, I was in a hurry this morning—”

“But then I heard it ring inside when I tried calling you from here, so I figured what happened.”

You blinked at his interruption. “Wait, so you knew I left my phone? Why did you wait then?”

“Well, I still needed to talk to you.”

The unapologetic tone of his voice made you inhale sharply and take an unconscious step back as a protective means so you wouldn’t throw your arms around him like your heart wanted you to. You lowered your eyes.

“Okay, but you could have—I-I mean,” you didn’t know why you were still talking. It was obvious that he didn’t mind waiting. And yet that was somehow so impossible to believe. “What if I would have been gone longer?”

“Then I would have waited longer,” he shrugged like it was obvious, his eyes analyzing your confused features. “Why are you so bothered that I’m here?”

“I’m not bothered, I’m just—” truly, relentlessly falling more and more in love with you. “I was just surprised. Sorry I made you wait. What did you want to talk about?”

You gave him a weak smile as you tried to use the business tone you reserved for almost everyone but your voice still came out sounding meek and uncertain.

Jungkook just chuckled – not at you but, rather, at the the obviously nervous state you were in right now. While he always—secretly— appreciated your witty banter and sarcasm, he couldn’t help but feel proud to have this disarming effect on you.

“Straight to the point, huh?” he ribbed. “I thought that, after I’d waited for you for thirty minutes, the least you would do is invite me inside.”

“You waited for thirty minutes?”

“More or less.”

“Shit,” you were done for and you hated that it took this little – just some dedication to wait until you returned – to win your complete devotion. “I’m sorry.”

You walked past him – trying almost desperately not to breathe but still getting a whiff of his cologne and clenching your jaw as you refused to let the intoxicating smell affect you – to unlock the door.

“It’s fine,” Jungkook said, watching you and marveling at how completely unaware you were about the effects that the smell of your hair – as it lightly brushed against his chest when you walked past – had on him. “I don’t mind.”

You turned the key in the lock, the warmth from inside of the room hitting your already warm face as soon as the door opened.

You moved to a side and looked at him.

“So, uh—come inside, then.”

He did. And the room felt suffocating with him in it – but not in a painful way. It was just unusual: like you’d been transported into a different realm where breathing was no longer necessary to keep you alive and yet your body – so used to the way things were before – was still fighting it.

It was a useless battle.

You couldn’t breathe around him anyway.

“So, I received a picture today,” Jungkook said as he followed after you and took his shoes off by the door.

“Received a picture?” you frowned at his wording, lifting your eyes from your shoes to his face. “I hope you don’t mean in the mail.”

“No—” he paused to laugh. “I mean someone sent it to me. Well, to this groupchat I’m in but they tagged me.”

You placed your shoes in their rightful position by the door but chose not to return your eyes to his because you had a feeling where this was going.

“Right,” you said, not encouraging him to go on but knowing that he would anyway.

“It was you and Namjoon,” he said.

You nodded – which surprised him. “So, the picture reached you.”

For a moment, Jungkook tried to look for hidden hints in your voice – hints that would indicate where your knowledge about this had come from and, more importantly, why you looked so defensive all of a sudden, crossing your arms over your chest as you eyed him from the other end of the hall – but then he settled on just asking.

“You know about it?”

“Do you know who took it?” you countered, surprising him further.

“Uh—no, I just know who sent it,” he said. “Why? What are you going to—”

“I’m going to complain,” you decided.

Even though you’d suspected that the picture was going to be sent out and not kept as a private artifact, hearing just how quickly it reached Jungkook – and that it was, apparently, directed at him but not sent privately to him – pissed you off.

It was like showing the picture to Jungkook was only one part of this masterplan and this part was a small one. Because another part – the big, important one – was making fun of him in front of every person that was in the groupchat he’d mentioned.

“You don’t take pictures of people in public without their consent, not even celebrities,” you began, “and with a flash on, no less! Like they weren’t even trying to be secretive about the whole thing.”

“R-right. That was disrespectful,” Jungkook agreed, puzzled to notice that the same frustration he’d felt when he saw the picture, was now mirrored on your features. “But I mean… we’re supposed to be dating, remember? That’s why they took the picture.”

You entered the bedroom and he hesitantly trailed behind you.

“That’s not an excuse,” you said.

“Of course, it’s not,” he agreed. “But I kind of get it. I mean… well, how do you think it makes me look when you’re—”

You stopped in the middle of the room and turned around, finding it difficult to fathom how he was capable of defending these people, when they were so dead-set on humiliating him by showing everyone a picture of you with “some other guy”.

“Jungkook,” you said sternly. “That’s exactly why they took the picture. To make you look bad.”

“And they succeeded!”

You frowned. “Doesn’t that piss you off?”

“No—I mean, yeah, obviously, it does. I came here because I was pissed off,” he spoke, his eyes jumping from the window behind you to the posters hanging on Inna’s side of the room. “But I had some time to think about this while I waited for you. I’m actually more pissed off about you being with someone else than I am about getting embarrassed in front of others.”

You thought you misunderstood him. “What?”

The last time Jungkook panicked this much was when he’d been caught red-handed stealing his father’s Jack Daniels from the pantry in eighth grade.

“I… I meant—I’m pissed off about you hanging out with someone else,” he said, rolling his eyes for more effect as he tried to make it seem as though he’d just phrased himself wrong before.

Both of his hands were behind his neck as he stretched – a nervous habit – and you watched him battle his inner discomfort for a minute as you debated which part to focus on. Maybe he really didn’t mean to say what he said.

“Jungkook,” you finally said. “With all due respect, I’m not going to stop hanging out with my friends just because your two-faced friends want to mock you.”

He groaned – growing genuinely irritated now – and turned his back to you. “It’s not that they’re mocking me—”

“Don’t defend them!” you protested.

“I’m not!” his voice had risen to match yours. Slowly, he turned around and dropped his hands to his sides with an exasperated sigh. “I’m just saying, it’s not about them trying to mock me.”

You didn’t believe him. “So you’re saying you would have still been pissed about this if they sent the picture to you personally instead of showing it to everyone?”

“I would have been pissed about this even if there was no picture,” Jungkook replied.

“What are you saying?”

He sighed again. He thought it was fairly obvious what he was saying.

“We’re fake-dating, right?” he asked and it felt like he was deflecting. “So that means people are going to do this. They’re going to talk, even take pictures—”

“I know that,” you said. “We already talked about that.”

“Yes, but… I know that this makes you uncomfortable. And I hate that, really, I do. I’m grateful that you’re helping me in spite of it.”

Waiting for him to get the the point, you tapped your foot impatiently. “Okay.”

“I…” his eyes fell to the ground. The creaking floorboards under your feet distracted him. “What I’m trying to say is that, other people are going to be talking about what’s going on. And these types of things,” he meant the picture as he waved his phone around, “are just going to make them even more curious.”

“You’re suggesting that, by hanging out with my friends, I’m giving them something more to talk about?” you tried. “Even if they don’t take pictures.”

“N-not with your—well, they don’t know he’s your friend.”

“Actually, they don’t know you’re not just my friend, too.”

Jungkook winced – but it was a momentary reaction and, afterwards, you weren’t sure if he really did wince, or if it was just a stray ray of sun that passed through the curtains on your window and blinded him – and then cleared his throat.

“Well, exactly,” he said. “They don’t know shit. They assumed we’re dating and we decided to go with it. And now they see you with Namjoon and, remember, they don’t have confirmation that we’re dating, so, naturally, they start to speculate even harder.”

You had to give it to him, he may have had a point. Maybe people weren’t actually trying to mock Jungkook. Maybe they weren’t laughing about how his “girlfriend” was “cheating” on him with someone else.

Maybe people were genuinely curious whether he was dating you or not and, perhaps, they hoped that by pushing him into the corner with this piece of evidence – that was obtained through questionable means but this wasn’t a courtroom, so everyone fought dirty – Jungkook would finally give them some answers that they craved.

“I’m—” you sat down, too overwhelmed to finish a full sentence. “This is so childish, my head is starting to hurt.”

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook said and then took the liberty of sitting down next to you.

“No, it’s—I get what you’re saying,” you told him, turning your head so your eyes would meet and catching the sharp sound of him inhaling as he realized how close your faces were. You flushed and turned away. “I-I was just—I don’t know, I guess I got sensitive because of the way they handled this. I mean, when they took the picture, I knew they were going to show it to you, that much was obvious. But I thought it was going to be one of those “hey, just a warning, but I saw your girlfriend out with some guy today” type of texts, you know? One-on-one.”

He fisted the sheets of your bed when you referred to yourself as his girlfriend. Sitting here next to you – so close he could now make out the specific notes of your scent; he loved the smell of menthol in your hair – was going to kill him.

“Yeah,” he said as he exhaled. “With us, it’s never one-on-one. When they’re not sure about something, they argue about it in front of everyone.”

That sounded terrible. It even reminded you of a prison – with no private space and everyone constantly sticking their nose in each other’s business.

“Why do you hang out with these people?” you asked. “They’re always looking for ways to humiliate you.”

You thought Jungkook was going to defend them again and insist that they were like this with everyone, not just him – and you would have had no choice but to take his word for it, since you didn’t belong to the inside crowd – but, much to your surprise, he just shrugged his shoulders and looked down.

“They’re—yeah, I can’t explain that,” he said, suddenly sad. “They clung themselves to us – to t-the other members and me, I mean – and we didn’t bother to shake them off.”

Of course, they didn’t. Parental Advisory – and Jungkook in particular – loved being the center of everyone’s attention. And it made sense. Who wouldn’t love being loved?

You swayed your head thoughtfully but did not say anything else for a while. When you finally felt his shoulders relax and poke yours, you finally spoke again.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” you said.

He didn’t blame you for it – which was unexpected but perhaps you’d misjudged just how self-aware about the situation with his friends he was – as he smiled softly. “That’s okay. I shouldn’t have come in here, demanding you stop spending time with your, uh, friend.”

He hated describing Namjoon in this way and he couldn’t hide it – not that he tried.

“I understand where you’re coming from,” you told him.

“Thanks.”

You nodded in response, the argument finally settling down. Only, you still needed to make a decision how to proceed – choosing to “just go with it” hasn’t exactly gone very well.

“So, what are we going to do about this?” you asked, careful so as not to make your voice sound too strict.

“You said you were going to complain,” Jungkook reminded you.

“I did,” you nodded, already seeing yourself knocking on the door of the dean’s office in your mind. “But it’s pointless, isn’t it? It won’t change anything.”

There were only so many things the dean could do, and controlling a population of nearly twenty-thousand students on campus wasn’t one of them.

“No, probably not,” Jungkook confirmed.

“So, what, then?”

He looked at you. “I have a plan. But you may not like it.”

You swallowed, aware that there wasn’t anything that you wouldn’t have done for him.

It was scary when you realized just how much control over you he still had, all of these years later. You briefly wondered if he’d ever cease to affect you this much.

“What is it?” you spoke.

“Come with me to our party this Friday,” he asked. “It’ll be a great way for us to express our anger about this in a more socially acceptable way. We’d sublimate, so to speak.”

You looked away. He had the power to convince you to do anything – you did not doubt that – but, God, you really didn’t want him to convince you do to this.

“Jungkook—”

“We wouldn’t have to stay long. Just—”

“Just so they’d see us together?” you cut him off and the sharpness in your voice wounded him because that wasn’t the only reason. “Just so we could respond to their incessant nosiness in this passive-aggressive way?”

“Well, yes,” he admitted. “But also because I want to hang out with you there.”

You thought that was just an excuse – a way to soften the blow after he confessed that he only wanted you to come to strengthen the image of your false relationship – so you didn’t catch the vulnerability in his voice.

“If that’s the case, then we could hang out—” you tried to say but Jungkook beat you to the end of your sentence.

“Here, I know,” he finished for you. “Or anywhere else that’s private. But I’m asking you to hang out with me there.”

You stayed quiet.

You weren’t saying no but Jungkook could see that you didn’t want to do this. He realized, in that moment, that he could convince you to come if he put his mind to it, but that would mean that you’d be doing something you didn’t want, all for his sake.

He couldn’t do that. He didn’t want that.

Standing up from the bed, he said, “I’m going to go.”

You followed him with your eyes, the sudden announcement taking you off-guard. “What?”

“Yeah,” he said, not turning around but stopping in the middle of your room nevertheless, “or I might start throwing things.”

“W-why—?”

“Because I want to spend time with you and you’re rejecting me,” he explained in haste, his words sticking together and making it nearly impossible for you to understand him. Not to mention, your heart was now beating so loudly, you were partially deaf to all other sounds. “I guess, you could say it’s bruising my ego. I have to—”

“No, Jungkook, come on,” you stood up, too, not really willing yourself to. Your body seemed to follow his automatically. “You know I want to spend time with you, too.”

He didn’t know, actually. But hearing this was enough to get him to stop and reconsider – clearly, he didn’t really want to leave.

“But do we have to go to that party?” you asked after he didn’t say anything.

He counted the dents on the wall next to your bed before finally saying, “what have we got to lose? People are talking anyway, so why would we stay home?”

A sad smile appeared on your face – you didn’t like reminding him of this; it felt like you were reminding him of your own name – as you replied, “you might find it surprising, but staying home isn’t actually painful for me. I enjoy that.”

“No, I… I know that,” Jungkook said, bringing a hand through his hair. He regretted standing up now. He worded himself better when he was sitting. “But… Okay. W-we could go to the party, hang out there for a little bit, and then we’ll head back and hang out at your place. What do you think?”

That was supposed to be a compromise but it felt too much like he was trying to do you a favor, but not really succeeding at it. Because the core reason why he wanted you two to spend more time together was still laced with his need to prove a point -- and the point was that you and him were more together than you and Namjoon.

“Where’s the catch?” you asked, not seeing how the return back to your place could have benefited your fake relationship.

“There’s no catch,” he said. “I genuinely wish to be—wish to spend time with you.”

That was a good response – he could tell he’d chosen his words right by the way some of the pressure seemed to leave your shoulders when you exhaled.

“And,” you said, “how much of that wish is influenced by your need to prove to everyone that I’m not cheating on you?”

Jungkook smiled.

“Only a little,” he said.

“Well,” you grimaced – and his smile widened at your obvious dramatics – and then turned around to look out the window, “at least you’re honest.”

“I promised I wouldn’t lie to you,” he said.

You watched the students pass by your building outside while you considered your options. There weren’t many. You could either give in and agree to go with him now or you could spend another ten minutes listening to him try to convince you to come, only to agree then.

It didn’t seem fair to make him beg you to come – you didn’t think your company was worth that much and, in any case, you did want to spend time with him, even if you had no conditions of your own and would have gladly remained unseen by anyone else – so, choosing to give in now rather than later, you turned to face him again.

“Okay, fine. I’ll go to that party with you,” you said and your words lit his eyes up. “But you won’t let this get to you anymore, okay? Because our plan was to let people think whatever they wanted to think. You said so yourself -- they’re going to talk no matter what we do. So, promise me I won’t find you by my door, all frustrated and determined to wait for thirty minutes until I come back so we can argue about this again. Okay?”

He was already burning with anticipation for Friday night – and most definitely imagining all sorts of scenarios of how the two of you were going to arrive to the party together – but he sobered up enough to react to your request.

“I can’t promise that,” he said.

“Jungkook—”

“No, I can’t promise that I won’t care,” he added, not letting you cut in, “but I promise I won’t do anything about it or… ambush you like this again. Or argue with you about this.”

That was good enough – better, actually, as your stomach contracted in tandem with your chest; it was like your entire body was vibrating now – and you decided that the worst was already in the past, so you sat back down on your bed.

You hadn’t gotten him to promise you he wasn’t going to care about the people you spent your time with -- because, what he should have cared about, was the way his own friends treated him -- but partially getting through to him was still more than you expected from talking to someone as stubborn as Jungkook.

“You didn’t ambush me,” you said softly. “It was nice of you to come and, uh, talk to me in person. Nice but unnecessary since there was nothing to talk about. But still, thank you.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook – who loved being appreciated, even as dismissively as this – suddenly turned bashful and tried to do some damage control by finding a yet another excuse for showing up here and waiting for you. He felt like he’d revealed all the most vulnerable parts of himself to you today, and he didn’t know how to walk away from that now, “I just wanted to figure out what we were going to do.”

You scoffed but not cruelly. “I don’t think we figured anything out. We’re still going wherever the circumstances take us.”

“Yeah, I guess, we are,” he agreed and then added the one epic excuse that would always extinguish the burning feelings in your chest, “but, at the end of the day, the only thing that really matters is that my parents believe we’re together.”

You were fine when you heard that his reasons for wanting to hang out with you involved proving a point to your peers.

But hearing that the “only thing that really mattered” wasn’t actually enjoying each other’s company but, rather, convincing his parents that you were dating, hurt surprisingly much. You knew it shouldn’t have because it was true, that was what mattered, but you still found it hard to breathe for a few seconds after he said that.

“Right,” you muttered, your throat dry as you pretended not to be surprised by how quickly you went from “I want to spend time with you” to “I’m only doing this so my parents don’t disown me”.

“Yeah,” Jungkook said, watching you avoid his eyes and fearing that he may have taken his personal damage control too far. “Okay. So, it’s settled then. I’ll pick you up at eight?”

“Yeah,” you said, your chest – so full a minute ago – hollow now, “eight is fine.”

keep reading | masterlist

#bts #bts reactions #bts college au #bts fanfiction #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fanfiction #jeon jungkook fanfiction #jungkook fanfic #fanfiction #jungkook college au #college au #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bts au

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just-a-random-cipher · 3 years

Text

!Theories about Gravity Falls!

Enjoy Reading:)👁

I recently came to the understanding that some people in the Gravity Falls fandom are slightly confused as to what little the fandom knows about Bill Cipher’s past. Everyone who watches the show knows he comes from another dimension known as the Nightmare Realm, which is decaying and fated to be destroyed by its very own mechanisms. However, given the release of Journal 3 by Alex Hirsch and Disney, and a rather interesting and hidden page on the Disney XD site (found here), Bill’s background is obviously not as simple as him being a megalomaniacal, dimension hopping villain.

Let’s start with the Axolotl.

Most people know this amphibious being from the last few seconds Bill is alive. He says something close to, “Axolotl, my time has come to burn. I invoke the ancient power that I may return.” If you want to hear it yourself, check out any of the YouTube videos on the subject. However, this seems to point out that Bill knows of, or somehow personally knows, the Axolotl. This is where the hidden link comes into play. Below is a picture of where the link leads to.

Take note of the first highlighted section. Dipper is asking what the Axolotl knows about Bill Cipher. Now, seeing as the Axolotl resides in the “time and space between time and space,” it could have the ability to see and know all of what happens in other places of time and space. This would give the Axolotl a distanced, somewhat unbiased view of what happened in Bill’s original dimension.

The riddle that is boxed gives some insight into Bill’s past from what the Axolotl knows. The first two lines refer to Bill - proof of him being an equilateral triangle due to the three sixty degree angles the Axolotl describes.

The third and fourth lines explain what happened to Bill’s dimension. The dimension burned, and he misses it. The “can’t return” at the end of the fourth line seems to hint that he is trying to get back to his dimension, or is trying to undo its destruction. Also note that Bill watched his dimension burn, meaning he was likely already outside of his dimension. Say this was his first time dimension hopping, and his first time leaving his dimension had some kind of effect like Weirdmageddon did on Earth - only, instead of there being weirdness waves that changed the environment, it was something much worse which basically rendered the entire dimension uninhabitable or entirely wiped it from existence.

Moving on, the Axolotl implies that Bill is lying to himself about being happy, and possibly other things. “Blame the arson for the fire” could have several meanings at this point. Was there someone else who actually destroyed Bill’s universe? Should we be blaming Bill because he is the arson? Does Bill blame someone else who is the true arson? Seeing as the word “Blame” is a mere imperative verb that is ordering a person or thing to do something, and there is no other person or personal pronouns given in the sentence, it is hard to say who the Axolotl is ordering. If it was “blames,” then it could be derived that it means “Bill blames” since “You blames,” referring to Dipper and likely the only other person the Axolotl could be thinking of in this context, doesn’t make grammatical sense.

The seventh line seems fairly obvious, and the only questions left are: who is Bill shirking the blame to, and what blame precisely? He has supposedly committed hundreds of atrocities and probably broken all the laws in every universe just to say he did, so is he putting the blame for all of his actions on someone else, or just a singular time where he was to blame?

The eighth line likely connects to Bill’s last moments in Stan’s mind. As stated before, Bill says “Axolotl, my time has come to burn. I invoke the ancient power that I may return.” Notice how Bill uses Axolotl’s name, and later says invoke. Kinda obvious connection there. But also note how Bill says “my time has come to burn.” Now, we do see literal fire taking over Stan’s mind, but we never see him actually burn. Of course, this could also point toward a more metaphorical description or that he just needed to rhyme, just as the Axolotl did in answering Dipper’s question, in order to truly invoke the Axolotl.He could also be referencing that he is dying, and that he probably should have died ages ago with the rest of his dimension which burned, but hey. I look for double meanings everywhere. Especially with Bill Cipher.

As for the last two lines… The fandom can only speculate on it. Bill can only liberate himself by doing one singular thing. And apparently a different form and different time are involved. That could have many different meanings. “Different form” could be physically or mentally - Bill could be a different shape, could be reborn as another species somehow, could reaffirm himself and admit the truth, or he could simply get some kind of interdimensional cold and be “out of shape.” The other half seems pretty obvious: “a different time.” It could be the future, the past, the present, the in between times, or even the second or third or hundredth time he tries to make amends.

A different form and time could also refer to a different universe, which holds a different form and different times, or himself entering Gravity Falls’ dimension and gaining a physical body (new form) and trying to start a new reign in another dimension that (this time) won’t just collapse someday without warning.

Basically, the Axolotl states that (in my own opinion) Bill possibly had a hand in the destruction of his home dimension, but likely tried to stop said destruction and failed. He misses his home and can’t return, but is still trying to find a way back to it. He’s lying to himself and someone is definitely to be blamed for the destruction of his universe, but he won’t admit to it. Bill needs the Axolotl in order to put the blame on someone else, and there is only one way, in another time and another form, that he can free himself from the blame.

Alright. Onto The Oracle. Finally.

In the Third Journal, Ford explains what exactly what happened for those 30 years he was missing. After getting attacked in a 2-D Dimension, he met The Oracle in Dimension 52. She knew all about him and his “mission” to defeat Bill. She was the one who helped Ford get a metal plate in his head. She also was the one who told Ford about Bill’s past.

The first few things I want to go over is the page in which Ford depicts The Oracle. She stands, staring with crossed arms partially obscuring an amulet, in front of what seem to be tapestries of the Axolotl. Bubbles and/or orbs seem to be hanging from the ceiling and rising from the floor in front of the tapestries.

The Third Journal does show that some people in the multiverse know of the Axolotl and the Oracle seems to have some kind of psychic power, evidence when she knew Stanford’s name, his purpose, and what he was destined to do. So perhaps that isn’t as interesting as it first appears. The amulet is also rather intriguing… Could it be in the shape of an eye?

But what about the bubbles and orbs?

I kinda feel like I’m looking too deeply into this, but the only other time when bubbles seem to be important is during Weirdmageddon when Bill uses a bubble to trap Mabel and unleashes weirdness bubbles on the town. It seems somewhat weird that the person who gives Ford all the answers seems to have some kind of connection to Bill - albeit a stretched connection with just these pieces of information in hand. It just seems too much like he’s being used again, which I’ll get into later.

Ford, on some level, seems to notice the connection between the Oracle and Bill. The symbols underlined above the circled Axolotl can be decrypted to read, “The opposite of Bill.” This seems to make sense with what little we know of her. She seems to know all, but never tells Ford that she is indeed psychic or omniscient - notice how Ford states, “Whether she was psychic or had just read my wanted poster is hard to say,” implying that he doesn’t know how she knew about him. She is also noted to be “calm” when talking about her desire to end Bill’s reign. However, Bill seems to believe himself to be omniscient due to his ability to peer into all realms from his Nightmare Realm. But he constantly doesn’t foresee issues - Mabel knocking the safe’s code out of his hands in Dreamscaperers and outsmarting him in Sock Opera, the Weirdness Containment Bubble around Gravity Falls, the dino-arm pulling his eye out, the Stans swapping clothes. He also is known to be rather hotheaded and, as many people in the fandom point out, likely to be insane.

Now, you might be wondering where all this comes into play, right? Well, if you look at the second page, where Ford details their encounter a bit more, he says that the Oracle told him that Bill was power hungry, which caused him to burn his dimension and everything and everyone in it.

That doesn’t sound like what the Axolotl said, right? Which is why people are conflicted on what, or rather who, to believe.

But why would she shape her words into something that Ford could easily misinterpret? Well, first things first: she’s an oracle and prophecies can be easily misinterpreted. But that seemed to fit a bit too easily, so I looked a little harder at the wording of the document and came to one conclusion:

She wants Bill dead and out of the picture.

My reasoning? 1) Look at the line “She spoke of him without anger, but with a calm, steely, clinical resolve to see his reign end.” Pretty straight forward. Ford can tell that she doesn’t like Bill’s reign and will not stop until he is stopped. 2) “She… said I had the face of the man who was destined to destroy Bill.” She said destroy Bill, not Ford’s constant “defeat” that he mentions throughout the series. Destroy means to utterly annihilate, reduce to nothing, ruin emotionally and spiritually, to kill. If this is what she said to him, then she obviously wasn’t just messing around. 3) Ford and her spent the entire night partying after she revealed this. They were partying about someone’s death. Kinda harsh

There is one other point that really hammers it into me that the Oracle was manipulating her own words: her own name. The first paragraph reveals her name to be Jheselbraum the Unswerving. The Unswerving. Which means that once she’s dedicated to something - like destroying a dimension hopping demon by the name of Bill - she will not stop until she succeeds.

Seeing as Ford mysteriously found himself in another dimension after he and the Oracle partied together, it’s pretty obvious that she didn’t tell Ford about him being destined to defeat Bill until that last day. You’d expect someone whom could pull someone out of another dimension into their own, whom knew who Ford was way before they met, whom already had a difficult surgery in mind to aid Ford, and whom was obviously invested in taking Bill down to simply tell Ford that he was the multiverse’s savior, right?

She instead kept it all a secret until the last day, at which point Ford was even more resolute to kill Bill instead of just defeating him and keeping him out of his dimension.

So who do you trust more? Or do you trust no one? On one hand you have a mysterious being that answered Dipper’s question with a riddle instead of a straight answer, and said riddle could be seen in a variety of lights. On the other, you have an equally mysterious Oracle who might have manipulated her words to ensure Ford’s resolve against Bill.

It's just my opinion! So you don't have to say anything about it! :)))

#gravity falls #gravity falls theory #gravity falls bill #axolotl #dipper pines #mabel pines #digital art #drawing #bill cipher

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stillness-in-green · 3 years

Note

If it's any consolation, I'm sure that the Advisors and the rest of the MLA (Re-Destro, Trumpet, Geten) will show back up sooner than the final arc, just because we're going into Year 2 and the students would find great 1 on 1 or team opponents with the Advisors. Re-Destro and Geten are heavy hitters (and Geten could be tied to Dabi, Shoto and all that somehow) and they were locked up with Mr. Compress and Machia, but who do you want to see first from the Advisors?

Thanks, anon; I certainly do hope we'll get to see more of them. Admittedly, my main concern is that I so liked what was going on with the Paranormal Liberation Front that even if we do see all of the MLA types again, if it's only in the context of speedbump battles for the students, that's still going to be a letdown. Better than nothing, to be sure, but I really do want them to join back up with the League, even a League that's confused and out of sorts under All For One's hand. I love RD's big spiritual-awakening-flavored crush on Shigaraki, the cross-organization tensions and relationships, just as much as I love the depth the MLA brings to the world outside of just what's going on with the heroes.

I'm fairly frustrated with how the MLA fared during and after the raid, largely because it's awfully hard not to conclude that, if what we have right now is all the erstwhile-MLA are ever going to come to, Shigaraki would have been significantly better off if he'd just killed them all and shacked up with Ujiko for four months. And that would be such a waste! The end of My Villain Academia was such an enormous triumph for Shigaraki! I want his victory to amount to something more than what we've seen, something that shows that both his strength and his mercy will pay off for him in the long-term, will be a concrete benefit to him rather than, with the benefit of hindsight, the reason everything went so wrong.

Particularly with Re-Destro, since Horikoshi saw fit to have Dark Shadow all but one-shot the man, and Edgeshot defeat him off-panel, it's really not going to mean much to me for him to have a big fight with students unconnected to anything else. The drama's rather gone out of it at this point. That's particularly the case since, if he's no longer connected to Shigaraki's plot, it's that much easier for him to just be off-paneled and forgotten about. But, if Rikiya gets looped back in with the League, if his gratitude and admiration of Shigaraki mean he still has a role to play in Shigaraki's arc, that makes it much easier to get invested in any fights that role will lead him to. Ditto the MLA more broadly; it's categorically ridiculous to present that organization with the kinds of numbers, breadth of influence and legitimate grievances they have, only to try to sweep them back under the rug exactly like Shigaraki accuses heroes of doing with everyone they can't save.

To say the least, I'm pretty invested. But I appreciate your consolations and am trying to hold out hope that we'll get some good stuff with them yet!

My anxieties aside, and to hit the other portion of your ask--who would I like to see first among the Advisors?--hit the jump:

(All nicknames and shorthand are taken from this post.)

Well, it'd be nice if they could all get at least as much to do as the Eight Bullets back during the Hassaikai arc, seeing as they got a similar splash page spread introducing all their faces. There are considerably more than eight of them, of course, but even if they never get more attention than e.g. Galvanize or the hose-faced guy who iced Midnight did, at least then we'd have some idea of their power sets and at least one angle on their personality.

Assuming we aren’t going to get full breakdowns on every single one of them, there are still four things I'd really like to see happen with the MLA/the Advisors: the student fights we're expecting, the jailbreaks we're being told about, the reunion with the League I'm praying for, and for literally anyone in the in-world media to try and get their side of the story.

Student Fights: Seeing the guy who killed Midnight again is as sure a bet as any of these get. Momo is an important enough character, with enough sustained arc, that she will have to get something else to do before the series is over. Taking command of a group battle against real opponents--ones with more responsiveness and agency than Gigantomachia--would be in-line with what she's been moving towards so far. I would, however, love it if that fight would be more challenging than a straightforward battle of tactics.

I headcanon Hose Face and Scarecrow as, respectively, an ex-con and a dude with physical disabilities--both people who have ample reason to want to change the series' status quo irt human rights abuses in prison and overly restrictive quirk use laws. I'm not expecting the canon to validate me on what amount to wild guesses, of course, but I want those Advisors in particular to have motivations more nuanced than, "They're quirk supremacists; who cares why they're willing to put their lives on the line over this?"

A feel-good revenge match in which a bunch of teenagers lay the smack down on characters whose humanity the audience is asked neither to know nor care about would be lazy, and counterproductive to the series' current thematic concerns. Give Momo her victory, by all means, but don't give it to her easy. A confrontation like this would be a good way for the less central Class A students to begin wrestling with the question of who, exactly, heroes "save" and what it is that people need to be saved from, exactly the way Deku and Uraraka and Shouto are now wrestling with these questions.

As far as other fights go, I'd also love to see Brand and The Question pop up again. They're probably the two I'm most curious about purely in terms of what their quirks are. Why does The Question wear a mask, and what's he like that he wound up in Mr. Compress's chain of command? And with Brand, what kind of quirk does he have that's powerful enough to land him a ranked position in the Guerilla Warfare Regiment but indirect enough that he fights with a sword?

Prison Breaks: I wouldn't expect this to be particularly involved, probably more of an aside than anything, but I want the Bindi Ladies to spring Hole Punch Face, thus getting us an angle on what's going on with that particular trio. Aviator Teeth can come too because I want at least some hints about what his deal is.

I'd also love to watch Horikoshi even attempt to retroactively justify some of the logistics of the single-day capture and subsequent detention of 17,000 super-powered, combat-trained people.* I mean, I don't think there are any feasible explanations for that, but I'd be curious to see what he'd come up with, especially if every possible answer just makes Hero Society look worse! We have only ever seen Tartarus as an example of the prison conditions in this country; I'd love to hear more, and an MLA-focused jailbreak would be a great way to show it.

PLF Reunion: Of course, my number one thing to see with a reunion is Re-Destro being just as dismayed as Spinner is over Tomura's possession. I crave more serious attention being paid to Rikiya's profound awe over Shigaraki's freedom, and would love to see his reaction to Shigaraki apparently losing that freedom.

Aside from the obvious, though, if the PLF does start piecing itself back together, I expect to see Sanctum again, given the attention he's gotten so far, and the fact that he's now the highest-ranked member of the Tactics Regiment. It'd be great to get some explanation for how he can possibly be "the longest-serving member of the Liberation Army," given that the Army was generations old already when Re-Destro was just a child. (If we do get that information, I imagine my own explanation will be jossed hugely, so I would also be happy to take time with Sanctum that doesn't explain the discrepancy but also doesn't invalidate my headcanon.)

In the context of the regiments reforming, I'd also like to see Nimble and Aster, both because this manga needs more women, and because I'd like to see more of how Spinner and Toga interact with the people they were nominally commanding.

Media Attention: Trumpet's my number one hope here--the lack of any look into the state of the government in HeroAca Japan has been a total let-down since his introduction**, but I was particularly annoyed that the last time we saw him he was smiling (albeit in a fairly haggard way), giving me hope that we might next see him doing his part to portray all of this in a light that would sway public opinion. And then literally one chapter later, we get prison guards talking about how the Hearts & Minds Party, a perfectly legitimized political party with representation on the national level, has been perfunctorily dissolved less than twelve hours from when the raid started. How is there even an argument that the system heroes were upholding desperately needs to change?

I'm very tired of the media in BNHA only ever showing up to beg for/demand that heroes tell them what’s going on, particularly those damn press conferences. Journalists do investigative work! Newspapers employ reporters to actively seek out news! Reporters in free countries don't just sit around waiting for the government or heads of major industries to graciously hand them press releases! For heaven's sake, Trumpet was the head of a major political party. People should be foaming at the mouth trying to get a statement from him!

Especially with public trust in heroes breaking down, there should absolutely be intrepid reporters out there looking to get to the bottom of any of the layered conspiracies the public's just been hit with and told to just write-off as a bump in the road on the return to normalcy.

Anyway, Trumpet's the obvious choice, but if I could be sure the manga would validate my headcanons about Nimble and Scarecrow's disabilities, I'd be happy to put them in this position, too. Trucker Toad would be another good candidate, if there's any basis to my idea that he is or used to be a transport driver who's seen a lot of the country outside the areas e.g. the Top Ten Heroes are patrolling. He's obviously a good candidate for getting back to that idea of anti-heteromorph bias, too. But really, I'd take anyone who can give a cogent explanation of the MLA's position on self-determination and the various ways Hero Society has exacerbated quirk-based discrimination.

Anyway, that's about where my thoughts are on where I hope the MLA people are and what we might see of them. Thanks for the ask!

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

*Or as many as 100,000 more than that, depending on how through the statement, "Their bases around the country were also attacked, and their supporters rounded up," was meant to be. An influx of 116K people, incidentally, would triple Japan's current carceral population.

**Why! Why would you introduce a politician and then never even glance at your setting's political situation??

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha spoilers #meta liberation army #paranormal liberation front #stillness-answers

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midnight-in-town · 7 years

Note

I feel that the relationships between all the Quinx members are those of strong friendship & familial bonds. But I think there must be something wrong with me since I'm the ONLY one who feels this way lol. I just think losing Shirazu made them treasure one another ALOT. And I don't feel that Urie has a crush on Mutsuki or that Saiko has a crush on Urie, or Mutsuki on Kaneki etc...wanting to save/ have someone back doesn't equate to romantic feelings to me?

Hello Anon! Well, first of all, it’s not because you happen to think differently from the majority that you should feel out of place, especially if your point of view is not a completely negative one and also especially since you agree that they all care a lot about each other in the first place. :)

Anyway, maybe the “issue” here (if you don’t mind me calling me that, but it’s more of a divergence in opinions really) is that you can’t see any hints of a possible romantic love because these relationships aren’t yet as fleshed out as they could be, or aren’t as healthy as romantic love is ideally presented to be in fiction most of the time:

take Mutsuki and Kaneki for example

Mutsuki’s dangerous jealousy towards Touka

Mutsuki claiming their love for Sasaki back in ch114

Mutsuki then engaging in what looked like intercourse with Uta’s clone of Sasaki)

these are all reasons to think that Mutsuki sees themselves as “in love” with Haise. It’s subjective and you might not think that it is love considering how unhealthy it is (because of Mutsuki’s issues and way to… act on their feelings), but from Mutsuki’s point of view they are in love with Sasaki and that’s what has been conveyed for a while now (from the very first :Re chapters actually, even if it got emphasized on mainly in the last arc).

now take Mutsuki and Urie

their relationship has kept on developing ever since the auction arc

a good part of Urie’s character arc is all about finding someone to belong with

a good part of Mutsuki’s character arc is to understand that love has nothing to do with what Torso and their father did to them

Urie never used the words “love” or “romance” (or any words really) to describe his feelings but still, be it in the omakes or in the chapters we saw so far, his behavior and fondness towards Mutsuki is different from how he acts towards Saiko or any of the Qs (even if he cares about them a lot as well)

even in the latest chapters, Mutsuki was able to be honest with Urie (to the point yelling and admitting their love for Haise) which is something that they avoided at all costs to do with Saiko or that we never saw them do with Aura or anyone else

now though, Mutsuki’s issues and Urie’s uncertainty are making it hard to see exactly whether or not this currently awkward relationship will keep on developing in a positive way (towards a more defined romantic love maybe), which could be why you’re having a hard time seeing it as possible romantic love whereas other readers think the feelings are there.

See Anon the thing is, reading and understanding/interpreting a story is all subjective: that’s why there are always many different theories, many different ships for one character even, so I’m even not going to try and convince you if you say that you never saw hints of a possible romance between any of the Qs. :)

To give you another example, I think it was when we were in the middle of the arc about the raid on the CCG lab (the last arc, so to speak) that I received an ask from an Anon that was asking me about “hints” showing that Kaneki and Touka possibly had something romantic going on ever since TG, because they had never seen it while reading the manga. Again, it’s all related to how readers interpret a story so it’s not particularly about being “right or wrong”, but when you see where we are now with Kaneki and Touka in the story, I think this is supposed to show two important things:

Even though a lot of readers always considered that we had hints about possible romance between Kaneki and Touka for a long time, some other readers also never interpreted it that way because interpretation is subjective and thus can be correct or not, depending on the author’s narrative choices.

Even though something did happen between them, Kaneki and Touka’s relationship is far from being the ideal love that’s often depicted in fiction (especially between main characters)

because they still need to act on this relationship and grow both in and outside of it to develop some more (otherwise they’re bound to make the same mistakes that they already talked about in ch122)

because Ishida writes his characters realistically and love/romance IRL is… far from being simple, idealistic and 100% perfectly fleshed out and making sense for all the people involved.

TL;DR maybe you not seeing any possible romance for now might be due to having precise ideas/expectations about how “love” is supposed to be clearly depicted in fiction, as in, so that not a single doubt will remain about the characters’ feelings (since for now you said that you could interpret it in different ways). However, that has never been Ishida’s game when it comes to how he writes his characters and their dynamics with one another, and that’s true for any canon romance in TG so far, amongst other things.

So, again, there is absolutely no problem with you not seeing any hints for a possible romance between two or three of the Qs, you’re free to have your own opinions since you have your own way of interpreting TG and it’s all fine (as long as you don’t go and ignore canon if it doesn’t turn out to be “what you wanted” afterwards). xD

I have no idea if this helps, but please don’t ever assume that you’re out of place for thinking differently from the majority, especially when anything has yet to particularly happen between any of the Qs (a few years ago I was also “out of place” for thinking that romance was possible between Seidou and Akira, just saying, so feeling out of place simply because you have unpopular opinions really shouldn’t be a thing. If you’re right, you’re right and if you’re wrong, well, then it’s an opportunity to change your understanding of the series and that’s always interesting). :3

I don’t know if it helps :/ Sorry for the long ramble in any case, and thanks for passing by!

#tokyo ghoul #mutsuki tooru #urie kuki #yonebayashi saiko #mutsurie #urie x saiko #kaneki x touka #anon #answers #this is just my opinion but my (albeit probably confusing) answer is the reason why i think ship wars make no sense at all #as in they make even less sense than people disliking a character or strongly disliking a theory

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saiilorstars · 3 years

Text

Familial Bonds Pt. 1-One Shot

Companion to Dare To Forget Me || Montserrat’s masterlist

Pairing: Rafael Barba x OFC

Summary: Thanks to Casey Novak, Detective Montserrat and her brother have an argument over their family's hurtful past. While Casey tends to Montserrat's brother, Rafael has his go at Montserrat with the intention of helping her make a decision.

Taglist: @ocfairygodmother @anotherunreadblog @maaaaarveeeeel @stareyedplanet @perfectlystiles @averyhotchner

“Montse, please, it’s ridiculous! Why should we even entertain the idea of visiting her? We don’t even know her!” the loud voice of a man pulled several customers’ attention from other tables.

“Gael, that’s the whole point of visiting her!” Montserrat tried to argue in a normal tone but her brother was just being plain annoying. Gael Novak had that talent since she could remember. “I don’t know how she got my number but I’m glad she did. She just wants to know us, Gael.”

“I don’t want to know anyone from her family,” Gael’s spat made Montserrat flinch in her chair. “And you shouldn’t either-”

“-now hold on-”

“-she’s her mother- ”

“-and your grandmother!”

“Only biologically!”

As the two siblings went back and forth, their loud voices progressively drew in customer’s attention. Just as the manager was going to go talk to them - since he knew the Novak family quite well - he spotted the third, eldest Novak coming in through the doors. He hated to have to call her in, especially when she wasn’t alone herself, but things were getting pretty rowdy.

“Casey,” the manager smiled with relief as he came up to her. “Rafael, nice to see you again.”

The two ADAs smiled at the man, but they both faded when they heard the ongoing argument towards the back.

Casey closed her eyes, letting a sigh slip through her lips. “Please don’t tell me those are…”

“Detective Novak and the contractor?” Rafael finished for her, still feigning thought about the voices. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure it is. She’s shouted enough for me to recognize her.”

Casey inwardly groaned. She put a hand on the manager’s shoulder and promised him she would get the two to be quiet or leave.

“...I think it’s a waste of time! And honestly, the fact you’re not giving my opinion a decent consideration is offensive!”

"Bold of you to think I would care!” Montserrat’s shout was the last response of the argument.

“Would you two please be quiet?” Casey’s presence startled the two, even more so when they saw Rafael. “The entire block can hear you.”

Montserrat busied herself with a chip that she aggressively plunged into salsa. “If Gael wasn’t being so-”

“-oh, what? What am I being, hm?” Gael snapped but Montserrat purposely remained silence. She just took a bit of her chip and chewed. “Don’t give me the silent treatment! We’re not kids anymore!”

“No, you aren’t, so be quiet,” Casey warned the two to listen to her. “Just tell us what the hell are you two arguing over?”

Montserrat reached for another chip but instead of eating it, she just cracked pieces off. “Our...grandmother...called me. I don’t know how she got number, but...she called.”

“Grandmother? Wait, didn’t you mention…” Rafael trailed off when Casey made a cutting motion across her neck.

Montserrat looked up at the two suspiciously. “Mention what?”

Casey purposely ran a hand through her hair, gaze shifting on the ground. Rafael was just confused but he ultimately elaborated a little. “Casey mentioned something about a grandmother of yours earlier. The only time I’ve seen her happy after losing a case.”

Casey shot him a mock glare. “Thank you. I see why Montse complains about you.”

“I didn’t know it was a secret,” he shot back.

“Casey, what’s going on?” Gael asked from his cousin. She wasn’t usually one to get into familial problems like this.

“Nothing,” Casey tried to be casual about it but her awkward shifting was enough to put both siblings in further suspicion.

“Rafael, you seem to know,” Montserrat looked at him sharply. “And if you don’t tell me what it is I’ll make sure your time with me becomes even more unbearable.”

“That’s possible?” he raised an eyebrow at her.

“Try me.”

Now, the reason he decided to ultimately share was not because of the threat Montserrat imposed on him - maybe like 10% of his reason - but instead it was for the sheer fact that Montserrat looked genuinely upset. He’d seen her angry on occasions but it was always due to their challenging cases. This was something more personal, and he didn’t quite like seeing her this way. Besides, what Casey did didn’t seem to be bad in his perspective.

“She just...she just said she gave your grandmother your cell phone number,” his words may have well been the words of war. Gael fixated a deep glare on Casey but Montserrat stayed quiet, frozen even.

“Casey, what the hell!?” Gael shot up from his chair. “Why would you give that woman Montse’s number!? Tell me you didn’t give her mine !?”

“I thought it would do you well - both of you well,” Casey’s honest answer pulled Montserrat’s gaze up to the woman. “I know your mother’s side of the family isn’t one you speak to but she sounded genuinely curious about you two. I didn’t see any harm-”

“-you shouldn’t have done anything!” Gael continued to shout. “This isn’t your problem, Casey! Do us the favor and just keep your nose in your cases!” he grabbed his jacket off his chair and stormed towards the doors.

“Gael, wait!” Casey left her things on the table in a hasty manner. She put a hand on Montserrat’s shoulder, lowering herself for a quick moment. “I just wanted to help.” She pulled her hand back and hurried to catch up with Gael on the street.

Montserrat shook her head and started dusting her hands off from the crumbles of chips. “I’m sorry,” she said so hushed Rafael could barely hear her. She was getting ready to leave, but she seemed nowhere near herself.

“Montse, hold on,” Rafael put a hand on her arm to keep her in her chair. He slowly took the chair next to her, motioning he was just going to talk, though she wondered if this was just going to be another session of poking fun at her like it usually was. “Whatever this whole thing is about, I can personally vouch that Casey did seem to have the best intentions. She was excited to know what you would say.”

“I don’t doubt that she did this in good faith, but Gael was right. It wasn’t her place,” Montserrat reached for her purse hanging on her chair.

“M-Montserrat, please talk to me,” Rafael’s request came as unusual for Montserrat. He knew that too which was why he added on, “I like to think that despite our...rockish...moments, we are indeed friends.”

“Rockish,” Montserrat repeated with the tiniest of smiles, but for Rafael is was a start.

“C’mon, talk. Casey’s coming back so we’re not going anywhere,” he made himself comfortable in his chair. As Montserrat reached for another chip he smacked her hand away from it, making her roll her eyes.

“This is our maternal grandmother we’re talking about-”

“-kind of figured,” Rafael said through munches. “Casey Novak loves to talk about her grandparents.”

“After my mom walked out on our family my Dad moved us to a whole new neighborhood so we wouldn’t have to see any of her family again, and much less her. That’s just the way things were until today,” Montserrat sighed. She finally grabbed a chip but she just toyed with it at the plate’s edge. “I acknowledge that my mother doesn’t love me nor my brother, but that doesn’t have to extend to my grandmother, right?”

“Shouldn’t have to, but you knew that already,” Rafael flashed her a smile. “It’s why you came to talk to Gael, right?”

“Correct,” Montserrat sighed again. “I thought maybe...maybe the both of us could visit her. She lives in the Bronx. She sounded sweet on the phone - but nervous, she was so nervous too. She wants to meet us. It caught me by surprise but...I don’t know-” she shrugged ever-so-casually, “-it felt nice. She spoke to me in Spanish, you know I don’t know that.”

“Oh, I know,” Rafael didn’t hesitate to confirm that. Despite her Latin side on her mother’s side, Montserrat didn’t own a drop of the Spanish language.

Montserrat smiled out of embarrassment. “She was so sweet I just...I couldn’t help feel curious myself. Who is my grandmother, you know? What can she teach me? Will she love me despite never meeting me?”

“Well, I have to be honest,” Rafael dusted his hands off from the chips. “It takes time to get used to you-” Montserrat sarcastically tilted her head at him, “-but after some time, you get to realize that you are a good person. And you deserve to be happy.”

Montserrat’s face softened, albeit a trace of surprise still made an appearance. “Who are you and what have you done with Rafael Barba?” He rolled his eyes at her but she swore she saw a tint of a blush on him for a second.

“I mean it, Montse. Take it from someone who’s already lost their grandmother. Don’t let a potentially good relationship slip from your hands. This woman found Casey just to find you. That alone should show good intentions.”

“But what if Gael was right? What if it’s just a waste of time?”

“Do you think it’d be a waste of time?”

Montserrat took in a breath while she thought. “My Dad said that my mom’s family was big. I have aunts, uncles, cousins...all these people I’ve never met before. I’d like to get to know them. And my grandmother…” she got lost in thoughts only to be pulled back when Rafael placed his hand over hers on the table. His warmth provided a support she didn’t even know she needed. It just felt pretty good. “Gael is going to be pretty mad at me for going…” she admitted it troubled her to know Gael would probably shout at her all over again.

“You don’t have to tell him right away if that makes it easier on you,” Rafael suggested. “Take your time, get to know this woman who - for some reason - wants to meet you…”

Montserrat rolled her eyes at his smirk. She tried to pinch his hand around hers but it ultimately turned into a tighter grip between them. She took refuge in it and wondered if it would be ridiculous to ask if she could talk to him first after meeting with her grandmother.

#ocappreciation #svu #rafael barba #svu imagines #rafael barba imagines #fd: svu #oc: Montserrat Novak

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fluffnstuffq · 3 years

Text

Overdue Update (Important!!)

So.. it’s been a while since I’ve written a long “essay” type post here..

Sadly, this isn’t a discussion about alterhumanity. I… have some things to admit, to explain my absence and such.

Please try to read all the way through. If anything is misunderstood or unclear, I will try my best to answer any questions on the matter.

In around mid-October, the activity on my kin blog dropped off, and while I apologize sincerely for that sudden impromptu hiatus, I felt that I should at least clarify a few things before formally returning.

Recently, I came to the conclusion that I am plural. Specifically, a traumagenic system with four members as of now.

I’ve always been a system despite not initially realizing it (or at least have been since early childhood), don’t get me wrong. I just began really realizing something was off slowly throughout the course of the summer/fall.

Sudden lapses in my sense of time/train of thought accompanied by my mannerisms/speech patterns/personality just seeming to change drastically. I had no idea what was happening, and admittedly, these lapses caused me great distress that spilled over into my everyday interactions with others. I was more on edge, more paranoid, all around stressed for a long while, wondering “why can’t I control myself in confrontations, why don’t I know who I am?”.

For a while, I even dropped the name “Qwerty” because I didn’t feel like I even was Qwerty anymore..

And in a way, how right I was.

As you may know, around mid-June, I began identifying as otherkin/fictionkin, with three kintypes (Blixer, Marx from the Kirby series, and some sort of cryptid/alien). Like many otherkin, I experience mental and phantom shifts, as well as “past life memories” varying in vividness and detail. I still identify as Blixerkin and cryptid/alienkin (not entirely sure yet, to this day) and still get shifts as well as occasional memories/noema for them.

However, from the start, my supposed Marx kintype was always a tad off from the rest. In Marx “shifts”, fundamental parts of my personality and even morals changed; my very sense of identity became blurred. “I” became more argumentative, impulsive, even spiteful at times. It was far beyond just different parts of my own personality being amplified/dulled.

These so-called shifts, unlike the others, were always accompanied by a bout of dissociation. Everything was so foggy and distant, like I wasn’t in control of myself, like I was watching myself from behind a screen. I had enough consciousness to be able to essentially “internally scream at myself” to stop or change my actions if things went badly while in that “foggy” state, but it took immense willpower to even attempt to outright stop it myself.

And while I didn’t experience outright memory loss, after said “lapses” ended, I often found myself unable to sort through my thought process. If someone asked why I’d done/said something in that state, later on I’d be unable to recall my own train of thought, my own reasoning. Thus, for a while I felt utterly lost and confused, as well as frustrated with myself for things I felt I had no control over. Getting into arguments… losing or nearly losing friends… I felt hopeless. I felt like a monster. Out of control.

At first, I assumed these lapses to be merely severe, stress induced mood swings that happened to fall in line with mental shifts. I knew they were Marx; though I thought that it was just a kintype, thought they were still inherently me. However, as time went on and these so-called shifts became more frequent and longer lasting, I began to notice odd quirks. Early in October, a particularly long lasting “Marx shift” completely turned my sense of identity on its head.

Different preferred pronouns and name, different interests, sudden and intense cravings for sweets and candy (I personally can’t stand sugar, so this was the biggest shock, desiring cinnamon rolls and ice cream every minute). I’m also normally very much obsessed with keeping my diction and grammar as neat as possible. However, in this state, those who I talked to could probably attest to the fact that, for a while, that grammar had gone down utterly the drain. Lowercase letters, run-on sentences, no punctuation. This state even seemed to have differing/conflicting opinions from me; in this state “I” preferred the company of different people, spoke much more bluntly, and my empathy levels went from hyper-empathetic to… well, decidedly not.

I felt entirely, utterly like Marx. It wasn’t a shift, it wasn’t merely a change in perception. The previous perception just.. kind of went out the window entirely. The normal homesickness became all-encompassing. The normal “nonhuman” feelings reached distressing levels.

Everything that made me “Qwerty” had just kind of.. Flipped. It scared me.

I’d never felt like that in a mental shift for my other kintypes. In a Blitz shift, I was still fundamentally me, still myself, just a little more excitable and friendly. And if need be, I could usually snap out of it. Kintypes are supposed to still be you, after all. You’re not supposed to “lose control” of yourself, even in a strong shift. Sure, it can be embarrassing/disorienting looking back at what you said while influenced by the mindset, instincts, and energy level of a kintype, but it’s still inherently yourself.

Marx “shifts” were not. They were not “shifts” at all. I realized then that Marx was not a kintype and had never been one. Marx was not me. Marx was someone else, sharing this brain and body despite wanting no parts of it. (He’s doing a lot better now, but really, back then, he was just as panicked as I was, albeit expressing it differently.)

Between the change in identity, the lapses in memory, and the dissociation that accompanied said so-called shifts, by late October, I’d come to the conclusion that I was plural. Somehow. I will not get into it, but certain events that occurred years before during times of stress, trauma, or even just general discomfort aligned well with the behaviors of this alter. And, admittedly, I was initially a tad… afraid of this other being in my brain. It was no fun and games; I didn’t want to believe it.

And yet, as I began to reach out, to talk to my alter, I realized, he’s not bad, he’s not a monster, neither of us are; no alters inherently are. His frustrations, his mannerisms, his actions, defense mechanisms, they were all meant to help us survive. He’s been around for years, even if not always the exact same.

There’s four of us now, and we’re pretty solidly sure of our plurality, having known for about two and a half months now, give or take. While you likely know me best as “Qwerty”, I’m not the “real” one or the “original” or the “most important”. In fact, you’ve probably spoken to the others before on a few occasions, even before we knew we were a system. We’re technically all alters, and we’re all important to each other, as all members of a system are. (Alters should never be reduced to just “extra” or “unwanted/scary” parts, nor should they be treated like characters or a game/act, but that’s a story for another time).

We were afraid of revealing ourselves on main or any blog connected to it, so we’ve been posting on a semi-secret sideblog for the past month or so. We finally made the decision to be open about this due to the fact that it was becoming harder to keep the sideblog separate.

We could no longer post about our alterhuman experiences because continuing to refer to Marx related things as a “kintype” would be misleading and would only make clarification harder in the future.

As all this stress built up and the fear of someone prematurely figuring out who we were rose, we finally came to the conclusion that purposely revealing what we are was the only choice.

I know that, even with all this written, I probably haven’t covered absolutely everything, so once again I’ll be willing to answer questions on the matter/clarify things, for as long as I need to. We want to make sure to prevent any possible misinterpretation.

(We’ll share the name of the sideblog as well in a bit.)

#fluffywords #important #//this is incredibly important so please don't rb either haha//#//we were VERY nervous about posting this but we can't put it off anymore//

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kiarcheo · 3 years

Text

It’s All Coming Back to Me Now 5/?

To read on Ao3 click here

You can read the previous parts on Tumblr click here

‘Does this mean that I’m finally going to see you at home again?’ Catalina asks as they are once again walking back home.

‘Ehh,’ Kat grimaces a bit, ‘I’m helping Anna.’

She knows from their previous life together that Anna never learnt how to play any instrument. She could dance well enough and Kat had fond memories of that, and she had a lovely voice albeit clearly not trained, since she had been raised with the concept that music education was not proper for a noblewoman. Anna didn’t even have to say anything out loud. She just asked her when she was free to meet, the reason implicit yet understood by both.

‘That’s fine.’ Catalina bumps her hip against Kat’s. She doesn’t want her to feel bad for spending time with her friend. Friends. Family. Fellow queens. Whatever. But she misses having her around the house. ‘Just don’t forget about your old mother.’

‘You’re not old!’

Catalina would lie if she said that her heart didn’t skip a beat, dreading the last word would be two instead...my mother.

‘Anyway!’ Catalina knows from the tone that Kat is trying to distract her, probably having noticed her mood falling slightly. Perceptive kids these days!

‘I was talking with Cathy...do you think that us getting a PhD in history, Tudor history, would be cheating?’

‘Cathy, uh?’ Probably not the part Kat wanted her to focus on, but a mother has to take her fun where she can.

‘What?’ Kat is confused at first, before turning her head and seeing the look on the older woman’s face. ‘It's not like that.’

‘Okay.’ Catalina immediately accepts the answer. Not being believed is something that at best deeply upsets Kat and at worst triggers panic attacks. She doesn’t have all the details, Kat is reticent to talk about her life after Catalina’s death if not in broad general terms and Catalina has never forced the issue. She knows Kat would tell her, Kat said it herself. But every time she offers, she looks so dejected that she always refuses. But it doesn’t take a genius to connect the dots and blame Henry. It had been on her mind a lot, especially after Anne’s song and her talk with her. Whether Kat’s experience had been similar to her cousin, besides the ending, or not. Catalina isn’t sure she wants to know, to be honest. ‘But if it was...it’d be okay, you know.’

Kat shrugs, a subtle hunch in her shoulder. That won’t do. Catalina puts an arm around her shoulders and draws her in, kissing her temple. ‘Want to get a slice of cake to celebrate you writing yet another brilliant song?’ She said her piece. Short, sure, but that’s all she wants Kat to know. All the rest doesn’t matter. She’ll be there if Kat will ever want to revisit the topic again.

Right from the start it’s clear that Anna has decided to go for a modern take too. Music is once again streaming from Kat’s laptop, the young queen snapping her fingers as her predecessor sings.

Where my hounds at? Release the bitches (Woof)

Anne claps her hands, howling with laughter at Kat’s first venture into the song, which will also be all the other queens’ part. Jane shakes her head, rolling her eyes. Say one thing once and they will forever use it against you. She is ready to bet that Kat’s song will also include a swear word, just disguised enough that you can argue it’s not really swearing.

Lookin’ cute,

(Das ist gut)

All eyes on me,

(No criticism)

I look more rad than

(Lutheranism)

Dance so hard that I’m causing a sensation.

Okay, ladies, let’s get in reformation.

Anne is hollering, quickly followed by Cathy and, to everyone’s surprise but Kat’s, Catalina. Religion puns and Beyonce reference deserve a holler, queenly composure be damned.

Kat shoots a beaming smile at Anna. The fourth queen had been worried about her song not measuring up to the others, but the reactions are proving her wrong. She actually gets a standing ovation as the last ‘I’m the queen of the castle’ fades away.

‘Have you thought about choreography?’

‘Not really.’

‘Can I?’ Catalina exchanges a look with Anne. ‘Can we?’

Anna looks at the first two queens, both almost vibrating for the excitement. ‘Sure.’

Anne whoops and Catalina looks like she is one step away from doing the same. ‘It’s going to be glorious.’

‘Before we lose those two,’ they do look like they are ready to bolt, eager to start working on Anna’s song, ‘can I point out the,’ Cathy stops to look for the right word, ‘whiplash of going from Jane’s song to this. Both songs are amazing just…quite a different vibe?’

‘What about having an interlude? We would have three songs, well four with the intro. Interlude. Other three songs. Conclusion.’ Catalina proposes, her head seemingly back in the game and not on the dance anymore.

Cathy looks at Kat. They had sort of taken the lead on how to structure the musical…and Kat on writing the songs, having a hand in all of them so far. ‘We can give it a try.’

‘Also,’ Anne seems to be back among them too, ‘was that a Tinder reference?’

‘What’s Tinder?’ Jane sees the mirth on Anne’s face. ‘Wait. Do I actually want to know?’

The whole process is going surprisingly smoothly. Sure, it has been months, but considering they have no experience whatsoever with writing musicals, having 4 songs (out of 8 planned) mostly hashed out is impressive, in Cathy’s humble opinion. And that’s not even taking into consideration them being 16th-century queens reincarnated in the 21st century figuring out the modern world...and how to get along.

Unexpectedly, since she has been the one moving everything along, it’s with Kat’s turn that the smooth process comes to a halt.

‘Why the change? Not that I mind.’ Catalina specifies. Katherine had requested them to show up at a different location instead of the usual one. This one is more like a proper recording studio, with a live room with mics and instruments and a separate control room. ‘You know we have no idea how to use all of this, right?’ she jokes, gesturing to the mixing equipment. She frowns when Kat doesn’t even attempt to give her a smile at that.

‘I need you to be in another room. I know you will hate the song and-’

‘Impossible.’ Catalina scoffs.

‘I’m sure we will love it.’ All the others have joined them, and they chime in, agreeing with Jane. She has helped them all, whether with music or lyrics or both, and it is evident to everyone, even to Cathy, the only who still hasn’t worked with her, that she has a way with music.

‘No, you won’t.’ Kat is not looking for reassurance. She has no doubt about it. ‘It’s already going to be hard. If I have to worry about your reactions too...I can’t do it with you in the room. All of you.’ She had just recently managed to go through the whole song without having a major breakdown before the end.

While the first three queens appear confused, Cathy and Anna share a look. Having lived through Katherine’s reign as queen, they are the only ones with some knowledge about her past. They even had a brief conversation about it, not wanting to betray Kat’s confidence or their ‘vow’ not to look into each other’s past, but also needing to share their thoughts with someone who could understand them. Their conclusion had been easy: even if the charges levied against her had been true, which is not a given, as Anne’s example shows, considering her age she would have been a victim and not the temptress she had been portraited as.

‘Kat.’ Cathy takes a step towards her.

‘Please.’ Kat raises her hands in front of her. ‘Don’t.’

Cathy stops, nodding, slightly dejected, Anna laying a hand on her shoulder.

Catalina had noticed Kat was worried, but she didn’t think it had reached this point. And she doesn’t know what to make of Anna and Cathy’s solemn expressions. ‘Why don’t you show us and let us decide?’ She tries to encourage her daughter with a smile.

So that’s what she does.

All you wanna do All you wanna do, baby And ever since I was a child, I'd make the boys go wild

Kat had decided to use a backing track while playing the keyboard. She hopes that having to focus on playing and singing at the same time (and actually breathing, if things go as they went during her previous practices), she will be physically unable to think about the other queens being on the other side of the glass listening to her song (she angles herself so that her back is to the window and she is also physically unable to see them, even if she were tempted to look).

He just cares so much, he's devoted He says we have a connection

Her voice breaks and by the time she reaches the last chorus she is sobbing and hyperventilating. The effort required to finish the song definitely takes her mind off the others’ reactions…but everything comes crashing down as soon as the last note resonates.

She bows her head, shoulder shaking, hands frozen on the keys. She takes deep breaths, trying to calm down. Once she has it under control, or as much as possible in the situation, she pushes herself up. Time to face the music. Or not. What if she opens the door and they had left? They wouldn’t do that...right? Her...Catalina would not do that, right? She told her she would never be disappointed in Kat…but she never knew the truth...

But what if they are still there and are...disappointed? Angry? Ashamed of her? Would that be better? Or worse? One way or another, she has to know. And regardless, she has to leave the room sooner or later. It would only be delaying the inevitable.

#six the musical fanfiction #six the musical #catherine and katherine #six fanfiction #six the musical fic #six fanfic #fic: It’s All Coming Back to Me Now #my posts #mywork #six writing #six fic #six the musical fanfic #my ideas #my six posts

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rosaline-kei · 4 years

Text

Disclaimer:I do not own Shingeki no Kyojin / Attack on Titan nor its characters.

Title: Playboy no more - EreMika Fanfic ; OneShot

Synopsis: Mikasa wins the heart of a playboy who never knew he’d have wanted something so committed with someone like her.

Requested by: @eremika-forever12

Rated: T

Pairings: Mikasa Ackerman / Eren Jaeger

Read it also on / Please Leave a Review at: my Ao3 / FF net (might post there soon.)

A/N: never written this eremika trope before considering as the attack on titan series continues, Eren’s character is further explored and his decisions/character development makes me unable to picture him as stuff like a playboy. But hey, I’m open to trying I guess haha. Albeit admittedly I hated how this turned out as i lost motivation and yeah :/ My apologies dear requester; i hope you’ll enjoy anyway.

Mikasa hadn’t expect for her first kiss to turn out like this, in this sort of accidental predicament, with this person, with her on top of him—literally—on the ground.

Her lips were pressed against the school’s infamous playboy who had his eyes opened widely at her, filled with surprise at how direct she was—but more than anything, his cheeks resembled a ripened tomato while his brain was still processing the entire situation; of the fact that she—someone that he thought that not even someone as smooth as him would ever be able to get her to fall for him—kissed him.

But he wasn’t that dense to not know that it had been an accident, with her tripping, falling; falling onto him.

What he didn’t know, though, was that she hadn’t just fall on him; she had fell for him too.

It started when Mikasa Ackerman transferred to Shiganshina High.

She was fortunate to know someone from that school. That particular someone was a boy named Armin Arlert who just so happened to go to the same math tuition as her.

‘I’ll meet you at the cafeteria before class starts!’ He had texted her, leaving her to wait quietly in the cafeteria where a few students ate their breakfast or were burning the midnight oil as they dipped and curved their pens in a messy rush, desperately trying their utmost best to finish it before the bell rings.

One particular boy caught her attention, though. Sitting a few seats away was a boy who had chestnut coloured hair and green eyes that could’ve come across as striking if only she had a closer view. He wore a pitch-black leather jacket which gave Mikasa the impression that he was those typical boisterous gangsters that went around threatening people to surrender either their lunch money or answers for homework to him. Next to him was a blonde-haired girl with eyes that looked like a lovestruck puppy when he had his arm wrapped around her, and if she had to guess, they were probably flirting.

She looked away shyly, feeling like her eyes shouldn’t linger at what should be a private moment in her opinion. This early in the morning? She thought, sighing. She had heard wonderful things about Shiganshina High and its students from Armin—but it seemed that impression would soon change if there were more ‘bad boys’ like him roaming freely.

“Mikasa!” Armin called, waving his hand to get her attention before approaching and then sitting next to her. “Sorry for being a little late.” He chuckled nervously as he scratched the back of his head.

“No worries.” She assured with a warm smile. “Its good to see a familiar face… especially since I’m the new kid.” She sighed, transferring in the middle of the year wasn’t her cup of tea. But due to family circumstances, she didn’t have much of a choice and being an obedient and filial daughter, she complied without much complaint.

“Yeah. Oh and—” Armin’s cheerful look soon soured into something disgusted that confused Mikasa for a moment. He didn’t seem to be directing that disgust to her, though, but a couple that sat not too far away demonstrating PDA that Armin could only wish he could unsee; so did Mikasa, who turned out of curiosity, to flush and turn back in regret. “A-Are… all students here like th—”

“No.” He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Mostly him… that’s Eren Jaeger…”

“Oh.”

“…and its sad to say, he’s a close friend of mine over here.”

“Oh—wait, what?” Mikasa’s eyes widened in bewilderment. She knew Armin enough to be sure that these two boys were most likely living in two different worlds. She found it a little hard to believe that the both of them were best pals, especially after that revolting look he had when watching him making out with who she taught was his girlfriend.

Suddenly, she felt Armin’s hands gripping on both her shoulders, startling her slightly. “A-Armin?”

“Listen to me, Mikasa.” He took a deep breath. “No matter what you do, do not fall for him or his flirtation. Not when… he’s going through this irking playboy phase.”

“P-Playboy?” She stuttered, in disbelief that he was friends with a playboy… and more than anything, she was flustered when he even brought up the idea of her falling for him.

While she was a teenager, Mikasa was yet to have any romantic experience. And by no means did she plan to rush into it. More than anything, her priorities were her studies. Yes, it may be boring. But if she wanted to get into one of the top universities, she didn’t have much of a choice.

“Yes. Playboy.” He shook his head in utter disappointment, as if he was a father that failed to bring up his son right. “He’s a… childhood friend. I don’t know what happened along the way but he became a playboy and I can only hope one day he will stop.” He said.

All the girls who got involved with him knew of his playboy nature, and for the most part, they didn’t care so much of how he would go from one to another when he was bored. Most of them knew getting involved with him meant no commitment.

“What makes you think I’ll fall—”

“It’s just a warning. In case.” He sighed. “He has a… way with his words. Only a few people aren’t swayed by it.” He shrugged. “But he’s a good friend, so give him a chance. For the most part, I already told him about you and to leave you alone. I don’t know if he’ll listen, though.”

Mikasa had never seen Armin so done with life (or more specifically, the wild, playboy heart of Eren) until now. It was amusing, but a little worrying.

“If he bothers you, just tell me, okay?” The bell rang at the same time Mikasa nodded her head. “Yeah… don’t worry. I’m not looking for romance, anyway.” She assured.

Besides… I don’t think I’d ever fall for someone like him.

“So, you’re the Mikasa Ackerman huh?” Eren grabbed a chair, sitting himself right in front of her desk with both his arms invading a small space on her desk to rest. “The girl Armin told me about?” He queried curiously. It was break-time now, and the first time he approached her.

“Eren.” Armin couldn’t believe he had the audacity to slide right in with eyes that screamed his intentions right in front of him. “Don’t.”

“Gee, Armin, chill. I’m not doing anything.” Eren raised his hands, innocently surrendering for a brief moment before his eyes found himself fixating with her greyish hues.

“Yes… I am.” She mumbled, her own pair of eyes staring right at his to realise that yes, they were indeed as striking as she had thought. And on top of that, they had a sort of allure that were trying to draw her in more and more, trying to get her hypnotised and immersed. However, before she could, she looked away right back at her book.

Eren smirked. “Eh? Why are you looking away?” He asked with a tone so gentle, but it sounded awfully playful. His hands raised, two fingers walking close to her hand that fidgeted with a pen. “I don’t want to have a beauty like you hating me…” He mumbled, his hands finding its way to hold hers softly, causing Mikasa to flinch, let go of the pen and snap her head up right at him.

“B-beauty?” She stuttered. That was a first.

“Yea—ow!” He screeched, and let go of her hand while turning behind to see Armin with a rolled-up paper that was just used to smack his head.

“Eren.” He cautioned again, and it amused Mikasa that the brunette that had acted all slick and brave around her was suddenly looking a little fearful and nervous when he saw Armin’s stern, furious and protective look. It was a stark contrast to the bad boy image she originally had of him earlier, and she couldn’t help but let out a chuckle that didn’t come across unnoticed to both of them.

“Why are you laughing?” Eren huffed, sounding rather defeated before he stood up, hands shoving itself in his pocket as he turned away embarrassedly. “gee Armin, ruining the mome—” He saw the blonde rolling the paper tighter and shot his hand up in defeat. “Okay, okay! Ah, whatever! I’m late for a date with some other brunette anyway.” He grumbled before walking off, casting one final glance at Mikasa. “See ya around, Mika.” He nodded before he left.

“ ‘Mika’?” Mikasa murmured to herself, before meeting a pair of blue eyes that looked at her with both concern and disappointment.

“…What?”

Armin crossed his arms. “Do not fall for him.” He said before slumping onto the seat that Eren sat on earlier. “I saw you blushing.”

And the pink rose back up to her cheeks when Armin brought it up. “I… It’s just a first for me. Someone… flirting with me and calling me… that.” She answered shyly, and Armin sighed. “Well, you’re not the first nor will you be the last person he ever calls that.” He spoke, “I just don’t want you to get hurt. Those who actually, genuinely fall for him get hurt when faced with rejection. You heard him, he’s going on a ‘date’ with some brunette when he was making out with some blonde earlier…”

Mikasa nodded. Armin is right, she thought. He is a playboy… do I really want to…?

Besides. She reasoned with herself. I just met him. I don’t… really like him in that sense. He just caught me off guard with that… look and his tone. I feel so silly.

“I understand.” Mikasa sighed. “On a different note, it’s hard to believe the two of you are friends… does he leave you alone for his ‘dates’?” She asked, a small concern rising in her.

“Nah. He hanged with me more often before you came. He’s just ‘freer’ now since you’re here to keep me company.” He laughed lightly, “He’s more loyal as a friend, trust me.” He paused for a bit, and then sighed. “I hope he’d make time for you, as in, talk to you under a more friendly circumstance. He’s different, as a friend.”

And what Armin said was proved to be true two days later when he found himself sick at home with the flu.

Aside from Armin, she hadn’t made any other friends since she was still new. (She wasn’t sure if she could count Eren, since she didn’t really talk to him considering he was too pre-occupied with his ‘dates’).

She found herself huddled alone at a quiet corner in the school’s library during their break, with textbooks scattered around the table she occupied as she did her work.

The last thing she expected was for a brunette to come crashing in, legs crossed, with a smile, sitting right next to her. “Yo.” He greeted, startling Mikasa a little who gave him an odd look.

“…Hey?” She greeted back, confused by his presence. She could’ve sworn he was fooling with a girl in the morning, and had plans to continue later during breaktime. So, she hadn’t expected him to be here, and Eren took notice. “Am I not welcomed?” He asked.

“No… its not that.” She looked away, back at the annoying question she had been stuck on for a little too long. “I just… thought you had a ‘date’.”

“Eh, things don’t go as planned.” Was the only answer he gave her, and Mikasa didn’t care enough to pry. Little did she know, he cancelled his plans to keep her company upon finding out Armin was sick with the flu. While Armin didn’t request that of him, he took it upon himself because he didn’t want her to feel lonely on her first few days in school.

And while they didn’t interact a lot, he considered her a friend (even after the little flirtatious stunt he tried to pull) since she was a friend of Armin’s. She seemed like a nice girl, anyway.

“Oh.” She said, and Eren noticed that she seemed a little tensed, as if she were leaving her walls and guard up. He couldn’t blame her. He was sure Armin gave her long lectures of his… playboy nature. And while that side of him did want to play with her, since it had been a while when he last ‘dated’ the studious type, he was sure Armin would kill him.

And most of all, Eren Jaeger didn’t want to get involved romantically with girls who sought actual commitment. He didn’t want to be a heartbreaker. But at the same time, he couldn’t stay still.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to hit on you.” Eren sighed, and Mikasa looked at him, confused.

“Why’d you hit me…?”

Eren looked at her, amused at her confusion, and laughed as quietly as he could since they were in a library. “It means flirt.”

“O-Oh…” She looked away embarrassedly, and it took every ounce of effort for Eren not to continue teasing because heaven forbid the terrors Armin would bring upon him if even thought of leading her on too much.

“Yeah. Armin would kill me. I still have my youth ahead, can’t let that happen.” He said. “On a different note, is this what you do in your free time?” He asked, and his tone ticked off Mikasa a little; it felt a little insulting. “Just study? Even when you’re with Armin, I still see you studying with him sometimes.”

It was something people back in her old school often said to her before calling her things like boring and plain jane. It ticked her off, but she ignored them. Besides, she had a small friend group there to hang around anyway.

“I want to get into one of the top universities.” She defended herself, even though Eren wasn’t exactly attacking her. “So, if I can study then… yeah.”

“No need to get defensive.” Eren assured, “I understand that sentiment. Armin’s kinda like that too.” He spoke. “But you know, you can let loose every now and then.”

Mikasa raised a brow. “Let loose like you? Mr playboy.”

Now, Eren felt insulted. But then again, touché. “That’s not what I mean.” He shook his head and huffed. “Gee, what happened to that shy, easily flustered girl I saw the other day?”

Mikasa flinched, and found herself turning into that easily flustered girl again when Eren brought up how she was so easily swayed by his little compliment. “…Do you want me to call Armin?”

Now, Eren flinched and his shoulders tensed and the next thing Mikasa knew, his eyes looked at her apologetically and desperately while his tone weakened, sounding defeated and pleading. “Please, don’t.” He begged. “He’ll kill me with that rolled up paper.”

“I find that hard to believe.” Mikasa chuckled lightly, “…Underneath that bad-boy and playboy persona, you seem…” She paused for a bit, and then laughed quietly to herself at the first word that came to her mind.

“Seem like what?” His brows furrowed.

“Oh, nothing…”

He grew a little childish—a side only a few got to see. “Eh?? Don’t leave me hanging like that!” His voice was slowly raising and Mikasa instantly hushed him.

“We’re in a library, remember?” She reminded, and noticed him pouting slightly. “Yeah, yeah…” he grumbled, “What are you studying now, anyway?”

Mikasa’s focus switched back to her paper. “Chemistry… I’m not too good at it.”

“Really?” Eren said, as he moved a little closer to take a peek at the question she was stuck at. “Ah… the mol concept. It’s hard but… I can help you with this question. The answer is 3.8 mol, right?”

“Yeah…” Mikasa sounded a little surprised, resulting Eren to frown a little as he could guess what she was thinking.

“Look, not all bad boys or playboys are dumb-bells.” He huffed. “I happen to know—”

“No, no its not that…” Mikasa resisted a chuckle. “Armin just… told me you were failing.”

“Only in literature! Who the heck understands olden English language! I mean no offense to Shakespeare—”

“Shhh! Eren, we’re in a library remember?” It was only then Eren noticed the glares he was receiving from the people in the library, especially from the bookworms and librarians… and some of the girls who he ‘dated’.

Hell, did he have a bad sense of timing.

And then he heard a soft chuckle, turning around he saw Mikasa laughing lightly at him again and somehow, he couldn’t find it in himself to interrupt her again. And it was not because of the glares that were still shot at him.

Perhaps it was his playboy nature getting the best of him, but… he found her a little cute when she smiled and laughed.

One thing happened after the other, and Eren and Mikasa found themselves having study sessions together, with Eren helping her with chemistry and Mikasa helping him with literature.

Armin had been a little suspicious of this turn in events, since the last thing he thought that playboy would ever do in his free time was to have an actual study date, without the date aspect in it. However, upon joining a few of their study sessions at either Eren’s or Mikasa’s home, he realised that Eren could in fact, keep his hands and (in his opinion, sometimes cringey) smooth-talk to himself. It was surprising, definitely.

Although, it didn’t mean Eren didn’t tease Mikasa every now and then (especially when Armin wasn’t around to smack him).

And it didn’t mean his actual ‘dates’ came to a halt, there were a few times he skipped out studying and went on to have some fun.

But as days went by, unknowingly, those dates started to come to gradual decrease when he found Mikasa’s company… genuinely enjoyable—enjoyable in a way that no other girl gave him.

“Do you ever plan to stop being a playboy?” Mikasa scoffed at the brunette when he arrived at her home a little late than the scheduled time she had planned for their study session to start. While Armin was still running late, he had a reasonable reason which involved the bus he was on being caught in traffic. Whereas Eren, was on a date.

“I’m sorry.” He apologised for the tenth time, knowing that she was still irritated at the fact he lost track of time in the midst of his fun. “I mean, not really. It’s fun. You just don’t get it.” He said with a shrug, earning an eyeroll from the raven who just couldn’t understand why.

“Don’t you feel bad when you break someone’s heart?” She always felt a little iffy to Eren’s playboy habits.

“I always cut things off if I realise the girl is actually having real feelings.” He paused. “Otherwise, I just fool around. I’m just in it for the thrill.”

Mikasa raised a brow. Honestly, like what Armin had said, she hoped this was just a passing phase. “Yeah, yeah…” She sighed as she opened up her notes.

“What about you?” He asked. “Went on a date before?”

She flinched. “I…no.” She looked away timidly. “Studying is… enough.”

“Ehhh? You’re missing out on youth, Mika!” He exclaimed, before a mischievous look rose up to his face. “With such a pretty face…” He leaned in slightly, and if Armin had been there, he’d probably immediately withdraw his statement about him being able to keep his hands to himself. “You should be able find yourself a man like me—mmf!”

Mikasa pushed her notebook right up in his face, he was too close.

And a part of her hated how he gave her compliments like that, because it felt shallow with that smug, playboy tone of his. She hated how it’d make her feel flustered (and admittedly, a little happy) because he was definitely smooth with his words, especially when Armin wasn’t there to regulate his habits.

But she also liked it. The teasing; some of which she’d even return with her own playful taunts if she had the courage and wasn’t a flustering mess. It was all a first. Maybe that’s why she never exactly stopped him completely.

Maybe she just hated the fact it was all probably half-hearted, and he said all these things because he was a playboy who just enjoyed seeing girls getting all pink and red for him. Another reason why she hadn’t stop him because at least he knew his boundaries. He never touched her inappropriately nor did he ever push her to be his next new fun—and she doubted he even wanted her to be.

They were friends after all.

Friends… She thought. After spending all this time with him, something about labelling him as a friend made her feel… discontented. And she didn’t know why; not yet.

“You say that to everyone.” She sighed, and while her notebook blocked his face, she still averted her gaze away. “Everyone seems to have a pretty face to you…” It was only when she said the last sentence out loud, did she realise there was a hint of envy in her speech. She didn’t understand why.

“…Too far?” Eren asked, sounding less teasing and more serious as he gently took away the notebook that blocked her face. Honestly, Eren didn’t even know why he was teasing her (sometimes, a little more than he should in his opinion—but he made sure to never cross the line.), he didn’t plan to make her his new source of fun. That was the least of his intentions. Maybe it was because he found her reactions cute, and irresistible; and that became his fuel to joke with her every now and then.

Eren looked at her, at how her cheeks flushed and the timid look she wore as her eyes avoided contact with his. He made a mental note to dial down the teasing, but was quite reluctant.

Albeit, he rather do that than lose the friendship he forged with Mikasa in the past couple of months.

“No, not that. It’s just… I don’t know.” What am I even saying? Mikasa didn’t even know anymore, nor did she know why Eren’s eyes were suddenly fixated on her, looking at her with such softness and fondness.

“…You’re beautiful.” He suddenly confessed.

What? Was he pulling her leg?

Silence briefly engulfed the air, and Mikasa clenched her fist tightly before she forced herself to fill it.

“You’re just saying tha—”

“I’m being serious.” He cut her off.

She was beautiful. Her eyes, her smile, her cute facial expressions—but most of all, her heart. It was beautiful. She had been nothing less than nice to him the entire time. He had gotten to know her better through their study sessions; and sometimes they’d text and call afterwards. Eren hadn’t even notice he began to take less calls from his flings, answered less messages from them. Through the time they spent together, he had found out there were more things common between them than he had first thought. Through the time spent together, he made a friend that he could consider was as close to him as Armin was to him. The only difference was, after all the time he spent with her as a friend, he began to sub-consciously want something more with her. He wanted to have something with her; but it wasn’t the same way he wanted—or use to want the other girls in his life. And he was only realising this now.

“I…” He sounded serious, Mikasa knew and found it hard to react to because he had always been so cheery with her. Albeit yes, there were times when he was down and she of course, comforted him. But this was different.

What exactly was he insinuating?

“I…” Flustered and unsure of what to say, she immediately stood up, turned around. She needed a moment to leave; to have with herself and sort out the sudden fluttery feelings that accumulated in her stomach “I got to—”

Eren, thinking she wanted to leave because he said something stupid, immediately grabbed her arm to stop her. “Wait! I-I didn’t mean to—”

Startled by his grip, she turned back around a little too quickly, her toes bumping and tripping on the foot of the table, and suddenly she lost balance.

Everything happened so fast, and the next thing Mikasa knew was that she had fallen right on top with Eren. Lips pressed against each other.

It was Mikasa’s first kiss. She felt her heart skip a beat before it began to race in a damn marathon. She couldn’t steady the palpitations of her heart, nor could she control the redness that illuminated her cheeks.

And she didn’t want to push away. She didn’t want to let go or remove herself from this awkward position.

Both their eyes were wide, staring at each other’s orbs; a stare that soon melted down to an admiring gaze upon realising that a particular feeling they had was mutual. However, before either of them even dared making the first move, dared deepen the kiss, a blonde burst open the door.

“Hey Mikasa! Eren! Sorry I was late. The traffic—” He stopped himself, and was utterly shocked and caught off guard by the two teenagers with their bodies almost entangled with one another, with their lips pressed against one another.

A glare slowly came forth. “EREN?!”

Mikasa had a crush on Eren.

Mikasa had a crush on a damn playboy.

Whatever happened after Armin stormed in was all blur, all she recalled was them separating, leaving and not talking about it; the kiss. The feelings.

How did it happen? Mikasa didn’t know. Armin had already made it clear to her that getting involved with Eren Jaeger as a friend was fine, but getting involved with him as something romantic was the last thing someone who wanted commitment should even consider.

Mikasa didn’t like how Eren would approach, flirt, make a move and then made out with girls; at first she thought it was because, like Armin, it was agitating to some extent watching him fooling around, as well as being a fool sometimes. Little did she know that when time went by, the more time she spent with Eren personally as a friend, did she realise she wanted—she desired something more with him. He was a different person when he was with her. Admittedly, he did throw in occasional flirts from time-to-time, but more than that, behind the playboy persona he had in school, he was a sweet and kind boy (who can be reckless sometimes; but that’s a different and another story.) when he was alone with her.

Little did she know that agitation she felt soured into envy; because she wanted something from him that she didn’t think she’d ever get.

She hadn’t spoken to him since their accidental kiss, the weekend was awfully silent, and it went by quick with only texts from Armin who checked on her after that… incident.

He’ll never like me back. She thought, recalling all the girls he fooled around with; the ‘phase’ he was going through. At least, not in the way I want him to. Not in the same way I like…

Her cheeks flushed just thinking about it. However, all her flustered emotions soon spiralled down into one thing: sorrow.

She didn’t want to be his next one-time fling. She wanted to be by his side, as something more than a friend.

“But that’s not going to happen…” She murmured to herself, reflecting to all the flings he had; how wild and (sometimes) crazy they were. She was no match. Besides, she doubted Eren actually liked her back. Why would he? He seemed like he was having fun with all the other girls, so why would he want to settle for someone as plain and boring as her?

Whatever the case, she couldn’t avoid him now. The weekend went by in the blink of an eye and now, she was entering the school’s gates (albeit, a little tentatively). Just… act normal. She thought to herself. It’s just a kiss. Eren has… kissed tons of other girls before. No… big deal. He probably didn’t think much about it either…

She had resigned to accepting Eren as her silent crush; she didn’t think he could ever be hers, not when he was a playboy.

At that time, Mikasa didn’t know nor noticed how the time Eren spent with her had increased—and that was why their bond grew stronger during the time they spent together. She had eventually gotten accustomed to it.

And most of all, she didn’t know that Eren threw away all his other time with his flings just to spend more time with her.

Eren received an earful from Armin once he somehow, successfully dragged him out of Mikasa’s house.

“It was an accident!” Eren retorted, defensive. “You saw, didn’t you?! I didn’t make the move! She was on t-…” It was unusual for him to hesitate, or even get this flustered when talking about girls making the first move on him; much less them being assertive—

“She tripped and fell!” He groaned, looking away from the blonde who was practically glaring daggers right at him; or maybe he was trying to burn a hole right at his chest. Either one of them.

After a long conversation with both of them going back and forth, Armin sighed and decided to believe Eren. He wouldn’t lie to him… at least, not to this extent. “Fine. But you better apologise to her the next time you see her.” He grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. He wasn’t sure how Mikasa was doing; he for one knew romantic relationships was unfamiliar territory to her. To think that her first kiss was stolen by a playboy sounded quite unfortunate, in his opinion at least.

Well, at least Mikasa didn’t fall for Eren (metaphorically), at least. It wasn’t like she had a crush on him; and that was why she found her on top of him, right? He didn’t want her getting hurt, after all, Eren wasn’t the type to stay still when it came to girls. So—

“…And also…” He started to speak, breaking Armin’s thoughts off. “There’s… something I should tell you.” He bit his lip, knowing that he was going to get another painful earful once those words left his lips. “I… like Mikasa.”

Armin instantly halted in his steps, turned towards Eren, stared, and wondered if this was some sick joke of his. “I’m not joking.” He added, as if he had read Armin’s mind.

“Eren.” His tone grew menacing, “I swear. I don’t bother you and your damned playboy life because that isn’t my business. But, if you—”

“I don’t want Mikasa to be a one-time fling.” He specified, eying his friend with a solemn and serious look. “I… I’m serious.” He softened. What had Mikasa done to him? “I…I want to be serious with her.”

Armin arched a brow, arms crossed. He clearly wasn’t convinced; not yet at least. “So the infamous playboy at Shiganshina High just suddenly want to quit his playboy lifestyle?” Sure, love can change people. Armin knew that. But he had to be sure he wasn’t mistaking his feelings. “Then tell me, Eren. Convince me. It’s hard to believe that you suddenly… like her. That you want her as something more than a normal fling.” He paused briefly. “What makes you think you like her?”

Embarrassing and as flustering as it was, Eren began to tell. And Armin hadn’t expected for him to sound so genuine.

Mikasa awaited behind the school, as what Eren’s note indicated. She didn’t expect the first interaction she’d have with Eren after that accidental kiss was through a piece of paper he left underneath her table. Throughout the entire day, he hadn’t even batted an eye at her at all. Is he avoiding me? She thought, biting her lip nervously. Even during lunch, he left—and Mikasa could only assume he went to continue fooling around. I should’ve known better. He isn’t going to like me back…

When she asked Armin, he only shrugged and refused to say anything. That only made her worry worsen.

Why did Eren call her to meet him at the back of the school? Did he… plan to cut ties with her? Did Armin become too protective? Was that why he didn’t say anything?

Anxiousness overwhelmed her, and despite her colourful grades, she cursed at herself for being so stupid, foolish and most of all clumsy for tripping and kissing him. What was worst was that she didn’t even immediately pull away.

I can’t believe you, Mikasa. She thought to herself. You—

Her thoughts were instantly interrupted when she heard footsteps heading her way. Her head snapped up and she watched as a brunette, whose emerald orbs only took a glimpse at her, before averting away back to the ground, made his way towards her.

She watched, and didn’t say a thing.

Even when Eren was finally standing just a foot away from her, she kept quiet; her eyes looking away on the ground. Her heart starting to race again and she hated that it did.

I should just let go. I should just let go. It’s a silly crush. She thought as the silence between them prolonged. I should say something since I was the one who—

“Listen, Mikasa…” He said in a solemn tone, and Mikasa flinched, eyes looking up once again, meeting his emerald hues that now looked her way. “I…”

As Mikasa waited for Eren to deliver his speech, she anticipated and braced herself for the worst.

“I like you!”

Wait, what?

She noticed his cheeks reddening, his clenched fist as he forced himself to continue, “I… like you.” He repeated once again, but slower. The next thing he knew, he was pouring his entire heart out. “But its different from all the other girls I fooled around with. I don’t know how—I mean I know how, like after all the time we spent together as friends I found that you were quite enjoyable to be with even if you have your nose in a book for the most part…and then I started to… want to spend more time with you rather than fooling around I… I don’t know how to explain it but something about you just…” He took a deep breath, “It’s different.”

“I thought I just wanted to be closer friends with you and that was why I hang around you more often but then after that… accidental kiss, it all clicked. It felt different than all the other girls I…” He babbled on and on, his cheeks reddening after each flustering statement he made about how his feelings differed for her when compared to the other girls he fooled with. How he wanted something more with her.

He had gotten Armin’s blessing after he told him how he truly felt for Mikasa. “But whether or not she wants an actual relationship with you is up to her.” The blonde sighed, “You have quite the dirty, playboy reputation after all.”—and what he said was right.

Why would Mikasa want to be with a playboy like him? Would she even trust his words? Would she trust him? Give him a chance?

He hadn’t exactly been in a long-term relationship before.

“…and I understand if you don’t want to be with me… in that way.” He lowered his head, biting his lip. “I mean since I’ve… fooled around a lot and… you might not trust me and… I mean I deleted all their numbers already and cut ties… but… I understand if you still distrust me, however, I just… want to let you know…and I… hope you give me a chance.” He had always been direct, confident and barely ever paused or stammered in between his sentences and yet here he was.

A mess.

He didn’t dare lift his head, and stood there, frozen and silent while he waited for her response.

However, as the silence prolonged, he could’ve already guessed her answer.

No. It was going to be a rejection; that wouldn’t be a first, he had experienced those but none as heart-breaking as this.

And then what’d happen to their friendship? For what its worth, he hoped that they could remain friends. He liked her company. He didn’t want it to be over.

If she was by his side, even if it was just as a friend and not a lover, he’d be fine. He just wanted her—

“…Yes.” Came a soft voice, and Eren snapped his head back up in utter surprise; but his surprise was no match for Mikasa.

To think he’d confess to her. Mikasa hadn’t expect that. While she felt relieved, he didn’t invite her here to break their friendship or ask her to be one his part-time girlfriends, she was at first, undeniably stunned at his sudden confession.

Stunned, but happy. And Eren didn’t manage to see how flushed her cheeks became when he had looked away earlier, how her lips parted but she was still struggling to find proper words to articulate a respond.

She had so many things to say to him—but all of them came out in the form of a singular word.

“Yes.”

He sounded genuine, and she hadn’t seen Eren this flustered before and in his emerald hues she saw nothing but pure, raw honesty when he was pouring out his feelings. To think that she was able to make a playboy to change his ways was shocking even to her.

Eren stared at her, in disbelief. And before he could react ecstatically to this, he was caught off guard when the raventte suddenly leaned towards him, hands cupping his cheek as she (this time, not accidentally), crashed her lips against his.

Blushing furiously, shoulders tensed, Eren looked down at the raven who had her lips pressed against his. Since when was she that direct?

However, he eventually found his shoulders relaxing, his hands tracing down and wrapping around her waist as he found himself returning the kiss.

“Well, at least his phase is finally over.” Armin sighed quietly to himself, having watched the entire scene unfold from an empty classroom’s window before looking away as he continued to pack his bag. “…I wonder how Mikasa’s brother going to react to her dating an ex-playboy, though.”

#i hate this its so rushed omg gah #Eremika #eremika fanfic #snk #aot #snk fanfic #aot fanfic #attack on titan fanfic #shingeki no kyojin fanfic #aot fanfiction #Eren #Eren jaeger #Mikasa #Mikasa Ackerman #My fanfic

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soft-stormcloud · 4 years

Text

Panic Cord [Part 1/3]

Synopsis: When Virgil and his fiancé, Logan, take in Virgil’s ex boyfriend Roman and his boyfriend, Patton, Virgil’s forced to come face to face with his guilt.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Prinxiety, Analogical, LAMP, background logicality

Word count: 2684 out of roughly 8791

Trigger warnings: Implied abusive parents, very heavy guilt, financial problems, potentially unsympathetic Virgil? It’s complicated, everyone makes mistakes.

A/N: this whole fic was inspired by the song Panic Cord by Gabrielle Aplin, 10/10 song

“Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

Logan gave his stubborn fiance a defiant look. “You’re serious?” He asked again, just to be sure.

Virgil nodded insistently. “Yes! Look, we play DND every week, tell me it wouldn’t be badass playing on this.”

He gestured towards the coffee table he wanted, an overdramatic, gothic table that would take up half of their living room.

Logan quirked an eyebrow. “Okay, but we eat dinner every day. Lunch, too. Imagine trying to balance a cup on one of those ridges. We might as well not even have a table.”

Virgil held his hands up. “I’d be glad to eat on the floor.”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “Then why… Are we even here?”

Virgil cracked up, too, but shook his head. “I don’t want that boring ass table.”

Logan pouted. He liked the table. It was simple, but not ugly, with dark reddish brown panels of wood and black iron supports. It was big enough for them to eat, and play DND, too, albeit a bit cramped. He especially liked that it looked easy to clean, and it was the perfect height for their couch.

�� Virgil hesitated, and then sighed as the bell above the shop’s door dinged. “Okay. Fine. We’ll get that table. But! I get to pick the next three games we play.”

Logan smiled. That meant three sessions of DND, with Logan dm’ing. “If that’ll make you happy.”

As giggling sounded from near the door, Virgil looked up and smiled sheepishly at him. Then his eyes slid over his fiance’s shoulder, towards the couple coming towards them- One excitedly pulling his boyfriend, the other nervously and subtly trying to lead him away.

Virgil ducked down and behind Logan, whispering, “Shit, shit, shit!”

Logan looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “What’s going on?”

“That’s my ex-boyfriend.”

“Which one?”

“The tall one.”

The couple stopped to admire the table Logan picked out. The tall one stared fiercely at it, eyes not moving, stiff. The oblivious one admired the wood.

Logan didn’t take his gaze off the tall one as he said, “I think they know you’re here.”

The round, freckled one looked at them with a polite smile. “Hm?”

The tall one peeked around Logan a bit and gave an awkward wave. “Hey, uh-” He almost said something else, and then just said, “Hey.”

Virgil stared at him, anxiety having frozen him solid. They spent thirty seconds in the most uncomfortable silence Logan thought he’d ever witnessed, Virgil’s ex’s boyfriend completely oblivious, until Logan said, “So, you two used to date?”

That got his attention.

“Um, yeah… I’m Roman,” the tall one said, ignoring his boyfriend’s concerned look. His hair was grown out in a messy enough way that it was clearly unintentional, faded red with inches of brown roots. His nails were painted an assortment of pastel colours. “This is my boyfriend, Patton.” Patton was dressed all in pastels, with golden circular glasses frames and platform boots. He looked familiar, but Virgil couldn’t place him. His hair was also a mess, but it was curly and looked more on purpose.

“I’m Virgil’s fiance.” Logan stuck his hand out, and Roman’s eyes went wide.

“Fiance?” He didn’t shake Logan’s hand. Patton squeezed Roman’s arm.

“Yes.” A small smile crawled onto Logan’s face as his eyes slid over to Virgil. Virgil blushed and looked away. “Fiance.”

“So that’s the name you picked? ‘Virgil?’” Roman forced a chuckle and glanced to Logan. “He was still trying a few out when we were together.”

Desperate to get the attention off of him, Virgil asked, “So are you two moving in together?”

Patton smiled brightly. “We’re trying to! But, you know, money’s tight. We figured we’d stop by here since we were close and look at some options. It’s more expensive than we thought it’d be, though.”

Logan perked up. “You know, when Vee and I started looking at options, we found this little store downtown…”

Logan and Patton got lost in conversation as Logan told him about the furniture store he and Virgil had found, and all the things they found for their new apartment. Virgil’s eyes widened as he realized he and Roman were, basically, left alone.

After thirty seconds of just staring at Logan and Patton’s conversation, he realized there wasn’t really a subtle way to get out of this situation. He turned to Roman and, after a bit to think of what to say, stuttered out, “You look like you’re doing… Good?”

A little bit of authenticity bled into Roman’s smile. “Patton’s really great. Do you, um, do you remember him?”

“Um, I think, yeah?” Virgil looked away and scratched the back of his neck a little aggressively. Shit, Patton? Patton… He couldn’t place the name. “Probably, I don’t know.”

“I met him at that Wicked showing,” Roman reminded him. “It was, like, a week before. You only met him once.” Roman’s eyes widened. “Oh- But we didn’t do anything! We only got together a year ago. I promise, we didn’t-”

Roman tended to go on and on until someone stopped him.

“After what happened, do you really think I could be mad at you for forgetting to tell me something?” Virgil raised his eyebrows. Every day he felt guilty for what he did. He would let Roman get away with breaking a thousand rules to their polygamy set up, let alone one.

“I guess not,” he said quietly. He was blushing. He let out a little laugh and shrugged. “I just… Don’t like you being mad at me.”

Virgil could tell where this headed. He rushed to speak at the same as Roman,

“It wasn’t your fault-”

“If I did anything-”

Virgil pursed his lips and Roman chuckled. “I mean…” Roman turned away slightly, peeking at him. “There had to be a reason, right? Never mind, don’t answer that.” He fully looked away, pretending to examine one of the tables. “I shouldn’t pry.”

“Vee?”

They both glanced back. Logan and Patton were standing close enough for their clothes to brush together, and they each had a little dopey smile on their faces. Patton broke off to join Roman, wrapping his arms around one of Roman’s. Roman smiled down at him.

“Are you ready to go, love?” Logan asked. Little happy butterflies fluttered around Virgil’s stomach. “I have to get ready for work.”

“Yeah, go ahead.” Virgil pointed back at the table they chose. “I'll get this to the register.”

Logan turned for a moment, before looking back and asking, cautiously, “You’re not trying to trick me, are you?”

He grinned. “Which table did we pick again?”

Logan pointed at him. “I’m trusting you.”

He went outside to go warm up the car, and Virgil reached for the box.

“Virgil, um…” Roman smiled nervously as Virgil turned back to him. “Before you leave, could I just- Could I hug you?”

Virgil’s heart stuttered. Dread twisted his stomach into a knot, but how could he say no? After what he did, if the guy wanted a hug, he could have a hug. He nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

Roman almost stepped forward, but then his gaze settled on Virgil’s face, and he really looked, and he stopped. “I know you too well,” he said with a sad smile. “But, um, here… Pat, can I borrow a marker?”

“Mhm!” Patton swung his pastel purple backpack around to his front and dug inside for a moment before producing a pink marker.

Virgil held out his arm instinctively and Roman scribbled down a phone number. “We should catch up some time, if you want.”

Virgil knew what he was doing. It was an invitation, and nothing more. It was Roman saying, I miss you, and I feel like we ran into each other today for a reason, but I would never pressure you into anything. So, if you want to, you can reach out.

Virgil was conflicted.

He just nodded and forced a smile, and then got the box with Logan’s pick to the register.

Later, while they were putting the table together, Logan said, “You know, Patton mentioned they’re still looking for a place to live.”

Virgil looked at him in confusion. “Yeah?”

He stared at the screw he was trying to fit in the wood. “They seemed like they were in a hurry.”

“I can imagine,” Virgil mumbled.

Logan furrowed his eyebrows. “What does that mean?”

“Nothing.” He shook his head. “Personal stuff. Roman’s personal stuff.”

“Oh.” Logan shrugged it off. “Okay, well. I was just thinking, if it gets too bad, we could always rent out my office.”

Virgil’s stomach coiled. “What?” He asked in panic. “To them?”

“Yes?” He looked up in confusion. “Would that not be okay?”

Virgil dropped his screwdriver. “No! No, that’s- No.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to do that. What kind of idea is that? He’s my ex.”

“Yeah, I know, I heard that, Vee.” He sighed and set down his screwdriver, as well, giving Virgil his full attention. “But they need a place to live, and I figured things couldn’t have ended that badly. You guys got along fine today.”

“No- It wasn’t a fight.” Virgil pursed his lips and tried to figure out the best way to explain what happened, and quickly gave up. “It’s just- It’s not a good idea.”

Logan crawled around his side of the table to sit next to his fiance, taking his hands. “You’re talking like it’s already decided,” he said gently. “I was just asking your opinion. If you don’t want it to happen, it won’t, okay?”

Virgil nodded slowly, squeezing his hands. “Yeah. You’re right. I’m sorry, I just- I panicked.”

He smiled. “I know. It’s okay.” Logan kissed him softly, and Virgil leaned into it. “I gotta get going, though, or else I’ll be late.” He stood up and let Virgil’s hands drop from his. “Are you okay with finishing this yourself?”

Virgil picked up his screwdriver again and nodded. “Yeah. I’m off tonight. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Logan leaned down to give him one last kiss, before leaving, grabbing his keys on the way out.

xxx

A few days later, Virgil burst into their apartment after work. Logan jumped as Virgil dropped his bag on the floor and dropped himself into Logan’s lap.

“Bad day?” Logan asked, hiding a smile as he ran his fingers through Virgil’s hair.

“Whatever,” Virgil grumbled.

“What happened?”

“Just a bunch of stupid shit. I didn’t even really want to be there anyway. Apparently I made some mistake yesterday, and my supervisor, like, attacked me for it.”

Logan was immediately sceptical. “He did?”

“Yeah.”

“What did he say?”

“I don’t even remember, it happened as soon as I got inside.” Virgil sat up, feet planted on either side of Logan’s lap. “What, do you not believe me?”

“No, it’s not that.” Logan rested his hand on the side of Virgil’s face. “I just know how you can be.”

Virgil scowled and stuck out his tongue at him. Logan laughed and kissed him.

“I don’t know, I was trying to make coffee and he stormed up and started snapping at me.”

“Did you snap back?”

“Of course I did. Can you blame me?”

He shrugged. “Not really, I guess.” He tucked a loose strand of Virgil’s purple hair behind his ear. “But… I don’t know, he’s your supervisor. Is that smart?”

Virgil grimaced as chills crawled up his back. He had been trying not to think about that. “Just because he’s my supervisor doesn’t mean he can be a dick,” Virgil grumbled.

“No, I agree, but…”

Virgil sighed. “Dear God, what?”

“It sounds like he was just doing his job,” Logan said with a sigh.

He scowled. “And being a dick about it,” he said pointedly.

“Well, maybe, I don’t know, I wasn’t there. But besides that point.”

Virgil didn’t answer.

“Just think about it,” Logan said gently and pulled him closer.

Virgil easily leaned against him. There was nothing in this world that calmed him down faster than his fiance. It was how he realized he was in love with Logan, in love with him the kind of way that he knew, without him, he would just ache. The first time Logan came into the room and Virgil felt undeniable, bone-deep relaxation, an overpowering feeling of safety- He knew.

Logan was always trying to encourage him to be better; not because he didn’t think Virgil was enough, but because he saw how Virgil was constantly hurting himself, and he didn’t want to watch it.

Virgil rolled his eyes and rested his head on Logan’s shoulder, mumbling mockingly, “Should I… Apologize?” He hated apologizing. He only really did it to Logan, and that still sucked.

“It depends.” Logan kissed the top of his head. “How big of a dick was he being?”

“... Not really.”

“Then probably.”

Virgil sighed heavily. “This is stupid.”

Virgil knew what he was thinking: You need to stop getting so defensive. But he didn’t say it. Maybe because he knew that Virgil already knew. Maybe he felt like he got his point across fine enough without it. Either way, Virgil was grateful.

xxx

Virgil’s phone woke him up at 10am, and it felt like the middle of the night.

A number unknown to his phone but memorized by Virgil showed across the scene, and his heart at once sunk to his stomach and filled with butterflies. He was frozen with indecision. A mix of relief and regret swirled inside his stomach as the phone stopped buzzing, a missed call showing up on screen… And then it all shattered as it began again.

“Turn that shit off,” Logan groaned, wrapping an arm around Virgil’s waist.

Virgil kissed his hand and nudged him away so he could get out of bed. He answered the phone as he tiptoed out of the bedroom.

In their empty apartment, the world was quiet. Cars buzzed by outside, but it was muffled from so high up. The sun streamed in from the windows they forgot to draw the curtains on before going to bed, shining patterns on the carpet from the stained glass pieces Virgil had hung up.

He tried to focus on that while he answered the phone. His blooming life with Logan, and how happy it made him.

“Roman?”

“Hey!” He didn’t sound happy. He sounded nervous. “So, uh… You busy right now?”

“What’s going on?” Virgil’s eyes settled on the vase of fake roses on their coffee table. They both adored plants, but neither of them had the time or patience to really take care of any. Virgil traced the familiar petals and the child safe thorns on the stem.

“Well, you know how Patton and I were trying to find a place to live?”

“Mhm.”

Virgil expected him to ask him and Logan to help them move in, that they found a place but they happened to bite off more than they could chew and Virgil was the only person he felt comfortable asking for such a favour. However likely that was.

“Well, we couldn’t. And, uh…”

Virgil furrowed his eyebrows. Dread tangled his stomach into knots. “What’s wrong, why can’t you keep looking?”

“Well, we can! It just…”

“Give me the phone,” a soft voice said from Roman’s side of the phone, and after a moment of shuffling, the voice came out clearer. “Virgil? It’s Patton. We were just wondering if you know anybody who has a spare room for rent. Like… Today, maybe.”

“Is everything okay?” They were freaking him out.

“I ran out of rent money a few months ago, and I was hoping to get paid today, but… Anyway, I guess I overstayed my welcome. My landlord kicked me out. And Roman won’t let me stay with him.”

That much was obvious- Virgil wouldn’t let a frog stay with Roman’s parents.

“So?” Patton tried much too hard to sound cheerful. “Do you maybe know anybody?”

Virgil looked back to their bedroom, where Logan was standing in the doorway, watching him in concern. “Yeah,” Virgil said. “I have a place.”

Reblogs are better than likes

#virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #prinxiety #analogical #lamp #hurt/comfort #virgil #roman #logan #patton

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shouta-aizawow · 4 years

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I forgot what number it was, so... 3(? Bakugou loving big space to sleep. Like a queen/king sized bed, or a big couch, etc. But when he's sick he get in the most little space he can find, and if they are hidden even better. (Ex: The air conducts, the space in between the washing machine and the wall, etc). 1A finding this in the worst possible way :)

This is so CUTE 😭

Okay, so Katsuki used to like small places all the time, as in tiny rooms and whatnot, but after the sludge villain, that changed.

Then the sports festival happened.

Then the kidnapping happened.

Now, Katsuki cannot stand to be in tiny spaces and feel constricted. He’s touch-starved, but in his opinion, that is a lot better than having a panic attack or a flashback.

Some people may call him prickly, but he prefers the term “cautious”.

That all changes when he’s sick, however.

Katsuki doesn’t feel ill very often, but when he does, it’s like his mind becomes more cat than human. He forgets everything and his only thoughts are “need warmth, need comfort, small space mine”.

Unfortunately, his haze isn’t as potent as time goes on, because as he feels better, these thoughts just become an urge at the back of his mind that he is able to ignore.

But while he’s taking the brunt of the sickness, “Katsuki’s mind” becomes “Catsuki’s mind”, and he can’t control what he does during it.

So he hides under tables, sleeps in closets, and curls up in the small space behind the furniture.

That’s all fine and dandy, but Katsuki was kidnapped once, and his classmates seem on high alert every time he’s out of sight.

(Out of sight, out of mind? More like out of sight, all of mind amirite? 😎)

And because the class had never seen him sick before, when they haven’t seen nor heard from him for the entire day, well...

To put it bluntly, all hell breaks loose.

The Kamino rescue squad was suiting up to find him, Shoji and Jirou were using their quirk like it was the last day on Earth, people were destroying furniture, and some of the more level-headed ones (which isn’t saying much) went to get Aizawa.

When their teacher gets to the dorms and witnesses the absolute chaos, he’s about to nope right out of there until he notices the suspicious lack of explosions.

He immediately questions the students, and the ones closest to him answer with the sentence that had to be in the top three of “things I never want to hear again”.

“We can’t find Bakugou”, they say, unaware that Aizawa’s stoic face was just the mask covering the complete dread settling in his stomach.

He manages to continue on despite this, and quiets everyone down, pointedly not looking at the destruction.

Aizawa looks at their tense and terrified features, unsure of how he’s going to approach the situation. As soon as his mouth opens, though, the front door opens.

He turns to see who it is, and in walks Kouda, back from the vet, carrying his bunny.

Aizawa gets an idea.

Before Kouda even has the chance to look at the damage caused by his classmates, Aizawa says, “Kouda, Bakugou is currently missing. If you could get your pet to search the dorms for him, that would be much appreciated.”

Kouda wants nothing more than to curl up in bed and fall asleep after his long day, but after taking in the severity of the situation, he knows better than to ignore it.

So he nods and asks his bunny to search for “the one that smells like caramel and smoke”.

After a tense 5 minutes, the animal comes back and tells Kouda to follow her.

As Kouda starts to walk away, Aizawa and a few of the students decide to follow as well.

Soon, they come across a section in the wall that seems to have been removed. Unsure of what they’d find, everyone is fearful, but Aizawa grabs the edges of the panel and pulls.

It takes a bit of effort, but once he sees what’s inside, he sighs.

Katsuki is there, curled in a blanket, tissue box beside him, and sound asleep.

(Aizawa doesn’t get paid nearly enough for this.)

After telling the other students to go and clean up and thanking Kouda, he turns his attention back to problem child number 2 (though he’s thinking of making him number 1 after today).

Aizawa gently nudges Katsuki awake, and when his student’s eyes open and he takes in his surroundings, he’s immediately hit with a panic attack.

Now, contrary to popular belief, Aizawa cares a lot about these kids, and with that, he’s also very observant when it comes to them.

He knows Katsuki is claustrophobic, so he’s confused as to why he was, as it seems, voluntarily in such a small space, but he puts those questions to the back of his head as he starts to help the child that is struggling to breathe.

After about 10 minutes, Katsuki is calm enough to, albeit weakly, push Aizawa away.

They sit in silence for a bit.

Aizawa asks what Katsuki was doing in there, and when he hears an “I was sick” in response as if that actually answers anything, he shakes his head, rubs his temples, and says, “Congratulations. You’re number one on my list of children that give me the most problems.”

Katsuki chuckles softly and gives a better explanation.

Aizawa listens and then scolds him a bit for worrying everybody, but with a pat on his back and a “Try not to do this again next time, at least tell someone where you’re going”, he gets up and goes back to his apartment, hoping that he’ll finally be able to get some sleep.

(He doubts it, but a man can dream...

...which is probably not what he’s gonna be doing anytime soon as he gets a call from Nezu asking why there are multiple noise complaints coming from other dorms.)

DONE!!! This wasn’t how I thought it’d be when I first read this ask.

I first planned to make it like “someone finds Katsuki and uses their quirk on him in surprise, waking him up harshly, causing him to have a flashback, and getting the brunt of an explosion to the face in return” + “lots of angst and anger/mistrust on Katsuki’s part probably”, but my fingers said no❤️ and it went like this instead.

Aizawa had, like, two lines, but he’s surprisingly hard to write dialogue for (or at least in this he is). I can write characters’ thoughts and actions, but their words are hardest for me. (that’s half of the reason why there’s so little dialogue in this. the other half was that it would be too long and i didn’t feel like doing it :P)

ANYWAY!!! I HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS 💖💞💗💕💓💝

#wow! asks!#bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #bakugou katsuki #bakugo katsuki #bakugou #bnha aizawa #aizawa shouta #aizawa sensei #dadzawa #bakugou headcanons #bnha headcanons

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gallavictorious · 4 years

Text

I Would Do Anything For Love (except marry you): 10x08 Meta

Okay, guys, I need to talk about 10x08 for a little bit, because there is something weird going on with the first proposal, or more specifically with Mickey’s reaction to it.

Below the “Keep reading” you’ll find a detailed account of my reasoning but because it’s stupidly long (and potentially mostly just confusing), I’ll summarize my conundrum and theory here:

Conundrum: Since Mickey thinks that Ian killed Paula, Mickey doesn’t understand that Ian is trying to protect Mickey by proposing: he thinks that Ian is asking Mickey to protect him. Given that, isn’t it a bit odd that Mickey – who would do anything to protect Ian – hesitates over the answer?

Theory: Mickey is indeed willing to do absolutely anything for Ian, but still hesitates for a second, because he believes that the proposal signifies Ian blithely (if unconsciously) disregarding Mickey’s feelings and risking their entire relationship just to save himself from prison, and that shit hurts.

Standard disclaimers apply: I wasn’t around when the episode aired, so you might already have discussed this to death. If so – my apologies, and please direct me to the relevant meta. It’s also entirely possible that I’m the only one who had an issue with or was confused by this, but eh.

Edit: Apparently I’m not done thinking about it, because now I’m questioning whether Mickey would really think that Ian is doing this deliberatedly (he might fear it, but would he be convinced of it?), so I’ve changed the wording a bit here and there to reflect that.

Context: Ian pops the question, explaining that it’ll be good for both of them, if either of them has something on the other. He then goes on about how they fucking love each other, etc, but yeah, this is totally prompted by the whole PO murder thing and we know that Ian is doing this because he wants to protect Mickey.

The thing is, though – Mickey doesn’t know this. Mickey thinks that Ian killed Paula. Given that, Mickey is likely to believe that Ian wants them to get married because Ian wants to protect himself.

This actually makes the way his face falls ever so slightly even more credible (and heartbreaking), because imagine being proposed to and then immediately realizing that the person proposing is doing so in order not even to save you, but to save their own skin? I mean, no wonder that Mickey isn’t exploding with joy. (And that’s not even getting into all the reasons why marriage is a loaded issue for Mickey, and probably not something he will enter into lightly again.)

Still, this is Mickey, and this is Ian asking, and so it just strikes me as distinctly odd that Mickey would hesitate. I mean, sure, if he does think they were doing it for his sake, then I’d absolutely buy him having doubts, but if he thinks they’re doing it for Ian? Come on: you’re telling me that Mickey “I’ll come out for you, I’ll fight anyone who comes at you, I’ll stick with you when you get ill and kidnap my child, I’ll torture a bitch for you, I’ll go to prison for you twice” Milkovich hesitates when the love of his life straight up asks for his protection? Like, he’d rather risk Ian going to prison than marrying him?

As I said: there’s something weird happening here – or is it just me?

I didn’t really reflect on the strangeness of it at first, and I think that’s because the audience is encouraged to view this scene through Ian’s eyes, and so we understand Mickey’s hesitation the way Ian does: Ian thinks that he’s protecting Mickey and that Mickey must realize this (because Ian believes that Mickey has confessed that “he totally did it, in his Mickey way of saying he didn’t do it”). To Ian – and initially to me and perhaps the audience at large? – Mickey’s hesitation reads as Mickey not being sure that keeping him, i.e. Mickey, out of prison is the best reason to get married. Which, as noted above, seems pretty in character: Mickey has repeatedly demonstrated that his personal safety and comfort comes second to Ian’s needs.

But as I have argued, this isn’t necessarily what’s going on here. Mickey thinks that Ian killed Paula: Mickey thinks that Ian is the one who needs protection. And yet he hesitates – which is a totally reasonable thing to do, don’t get me wrong, but it just seems out of character for Mickey.

Let us contemplate for a moment the fact that Mickey must already have considered the possibility of marrying Ian as a way to protect him, since it was suggested to him just a little while earlier – and he decided against it. What gives, Mr. I Would Do Anything For Love (except marry, apparently)?

I’ve spent the better part of the day considering this, and here’s what I’ve got:

It might be that Mickey has come to the same conclusion as Terry: it doesn’t matter if Ian actually did it, it’ll be Mickey who takes the fall, courtesy of being a Milkovich. If that’s the case, and he determines that Ian has come to the same conclusion, then he might indeed see the proposal as Ian attempting to protect Mickey. In this case, Ian’s – and my initial – reading of the reasons for his hesitation still apply. Case closed. This is certainly a possibility.

Another, and in my opinion more likely, scenario is that Mickey doesn’t think that Ian gets that Mickey might well end up taking the fall, and Mickey – ever resourceful – still believes that he can find another solution, one that neither requires him to go to prison nor them to jeopardize/trivialize their relationship by getting married for the wrong reasons. Let’s be clear: if push comes to shove, Mickey is totally prepared to go down for this, and he likely considers the risk of him being locked away preferable to risking their relationship (or Ian ending up in prison).

I mean, this is insane levels of self-sacrifice and commitment, but consistent with the choices this dumbass darling has made throughout the show, so yeah, I can see it. But as I said, at this point I don’t think that Mickey has resigned himself to “taking the fall” and “getting married” being the only options available to him. (Letting Ian go to prison is obviously straight out.) He considers his family’s suggestion of getting married: he decides that this is a big step and should be done for the right reasons because his relationship with Ian means so much more than staying out of prison: he thinks he can find another way to protect Ian: if this fails, Mickey might well take the fall because that’s just the sort of grand gesture this silly fool for love would totally go for.

If this is right, Ian’s proposal hit him hard for two different reasons. First, of course, there’s the whole issue of Ian doing it to protect himself even though he should know that Mickey has a pretty bad experience with getting married just because he ‘has’ to (remember, in this scenario Mickey doesn’t think that Ian realizes that Mickey may get pinned for Paula’s murder, and Mickey sure as hell isn’t going to mention it), and secondly, this means that, unlike Mickey, Ian has decided that risking their relationship is better than risking him (Ian) going back to prison. Like, Mickey might not think Ian is doing this deliberately, but he’s not entirely sure that he isn’t, and anyway - the thoughtlesness of it is probably grating either way? (One might question how getting married might possibly be considered risking a relationship, but I think it absolutely does for Mickey – and for Ian too, ultimately, even if that doesn’t come up until later. For both of them, albeit for different reasons, getting married carries with it a whole set of expectations, memories and fears, and rushing into it seems a real risk.)

So yeah, Mickey does hesitate for a moment, because he will absolutely do anything for Ian, but having Ian be both so (seemingly) cavalier about Mickey’s feelings about marriage and prepared to sacrifice what they’ve got to stay out of jail probably stings quite a bit, especially if we take Mickey’s experience of being abandoned by Ian into consideration. But then Ian starts talking about love and trust, which sure as hell sounds like the right reasons for getting married, and Mickey is swayed. Off to the courthouse they go – only for the whole thing to blow up in their faces.

Given everything written above, the realization that Ian did think that Mickey murdered Paula and was trying to protect him rather than himself should offer Mickey some comfort, but it very clearly doesn’t. This is probably due to it being overshadowed by the fact that Ian’s assertion that getting married isn’t a hard decision if you love and trust each other in combination with Ian’s sudden hesitation over getting married very strongly suggests (to Mickey) that Ian doesn’t in fact love or trust Mickey. Also, see the previous experiences of being abandoned mentioned above. (Please note that Ian totally does love and trust Mickey – well, he doesn’t trust him not to commit murder, but you know – and his fears about marriage has nothing to do with this. But it’s not hard to understand why Mickey might not get this, considering Ian’s words and actions in this episode.)

This got long, and I can’t shake the sneaking suspicion that I’ve both got everything so very tangled (Mickey thinks that Ian thinks that… did any of it makes sense at all?) and was the only one confused about this in the first place. A reasonable person might ask why I had to write so many words to come to such a simple and obvious conclusion – but the things is, it wasn’t simple or obvious to me, and the way I work these kind of things out is putting them down and teasing them out as I write.

Anyway, if any of guys have thoughts, objections or other explanations, I’d love to hear them.

#gallavich #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #10x08 #shameless meta #meta #my stuff

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