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peakyswritings · 2 years

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Icarus

Michael Gray x reader

Prompt: “I’ve been makin’ friends with my vices.”

Summary: Two years after Michael left the village, (Y/n) decides it’s time to look for him. But there seems to be nothing left of the boy he used to be.

Warnings: drugs, alcohol, smoke, cursing. I know that in the show Michael doesn’t do drugs yet at the beginning of season three, but it was for the sake of the story.

A/N: This is for @amysteryspot ‘s celebration! It was so fun! And Merry Christmas❤️🎄

Gif credit: @thesoldiersminute

On April 13th, 1923, (Y/n) (Y/l/n) left behind the small village she grew up in to take the train to Small Heath.

She left behind the green fields that had seen her run and play, the pretty white wishing well in which she had secretly thrown so many coins, making sure that her parents wouldn’t see her, because they would’ve yelled at her for wasting their money.

She left behind her father, who looked at her with eyes full of apprehension, knowing that he could no longer protect his little girl; her mother, who that morning had brushed her hair in front of her dressing table for the last time, just like she used to do when she was a child; her little sister, who wouldn’t have anyone else to annoy, since their older brother had left to seek his fortune in America a year prior.

She was all alone. But she wasn’t scared, for she had always known that she was meant for something more than following in her mother’s footsteps. She wasn’t scared when she stepped off the train and found herself in the middle of chaos. She wasn’t scared when she knocked on the door of the Shelby Company Limited, nor when she found herself in front of Tommy Shelby’s cold eyes, a newspaper in her hand.

“I’ve heard you’re looking for a secretary.”

Tommy blinked a few times, his mouth slightly open as he stared at her in confusion. “How old are you, kid?”

“I’m twenty. I’m not a kid.”

He didn’t reply, probably considering whether to kick her out or let her in.

“I’m qualified.” She assured him. “I’ve finished school.”

The man hesitated for a moment, then he took some steps back to allow her to enter the room. She seemed nice, too nice. No nice girl would get herself involved with the Peaky Blinders without a good reason. “Follow me. You’ll talk to Michael, he’s the one who needs a secretary.”

(Y/n) felt her heart beating louder in her chest as she followed the man in the hallway. He barely knocked on a big door right before opening it. “There’s a girl here, for the job interview.”

She knew that moment would come, but nothing could properly prepare her to see him, not even the hours she had spent convincing herself that she would find the boy she had grown up with.

But he was not that boy.

Henry - or Michael - got up from his desk. He was clean shaven, had a nice haircut and the suit he was wearing was neatly pressed. He looked confident, walking around as if he had finally found his place in the world.

But all his confidence crumbled down as soon as he noticed (Y/n)’s presence. He widened his eyes, opening his mouth to say something, but he didn’t utter a sound.

“Hello, Michael.” She said, doing her best to keep her composure. “Long time no see.”

“You know this girl?” Tommy asked him, shifting his gaze between the two of them.

“I know her.” He nodded, not taking his eyes off her. “Let her in. Can you excuse us, Tommy?”

The older man nodded as he left the room, closing the door behind him.

There was something deeply unfamiliar in the man in front of her, something that made her stomach clench. It felt strange being so nervous around him.

Everything used to be so natural between them. They knew each other, they understood each other. But now, for the first time, she had no idea of what was going on in his brain as he just stared at her.

Michael finally looked away as he took a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet behind him, pouring himself a glass. “What are you doing here?”

(Y/n) took some steps forward, taking a look around the room. It was cold and formal, she couldn’t see a shred of personal touch.

“Is this how you greet your old friend?” She casually asked, running her fingers on the leather of one of the chairs.

He glanced at her in annoyance, taking a long sip from his glass. “Answer me.”

“I’m looking for a job.” She shrugged, still poking around the office.

“Why here?”

“Why not?”

“You’re here because of me, aren’t you?”

She stopped, raising her head to look at him. “Don’t flatter yourself. A lot of women work for this company, it was the best option.”

It was true, to some extent. A lot of companies still didn’t accept women, and she had no intention of working in a factory, exploited and underpaid. She was far too smart for that.

“This isn’t the right place for you.”

He lit himself a cigarette, resting with his back on the wall behind him.

“I thought you hated cigarettes.”

“Things change.”

“I see.”

Things had changed, indeed. And it seemed like her Icarus, as she used to teasingly call him, had been successful in escaping the labyrinth he was locked in.

“We have a phone in my house. And a letterbox.”

There was an odd bitterness in her voice, a resentment that Michael had never thought she’d be capable of.

“I was busy.”

She scoffed, shaking her head with a grin. “Of course you were.”

He blew out the smoke, keeping his eyes on the carpet under his feet, too ashamed to meet her gaze. She was right. He promised he would call, send letters, pay a visit once or twice a month, but he never did. He just disappeared.

“If you’re here to scold me, you-”

“I’m here for a job interview.” She interrupted him, straightening her back. “And this,” she gestured, “this is just a coincidence. I’m not here because of you.”

“Let’s start, then.”

******

(Y/n) eventually got the job. She was smart, a quick learner, she minded her business and didn’t ask questions. And she was a nice company for everyone. Nice enough to be invited to Tommy and Grace’s wedding.

And now there she was, sitting on the floor of one of the rooms with her back against the couch. Michael looked at her from the armchair he was sat on. He was surprised to remember that she had always had that habit, since she was a child. Sometimes she would put a pillow on a carpet and take a nap.

The light of the fire created shadows on his face, giving him an almost austere appearance. But she wasn’t the same girl who had arrived in Birmingham a few months prior, the way he had changed didn’t make her nervous anymore. Sometimes she could even recognise glimpses of the boy he used to be, when he was off guard.

“I’ve heard things, about what you do. Everyone in the village was talking about it.” She said out of the blue, turning her head to look at him.

“So that’s why you got on the train to dirty, old Birmingham.” He taunted her. Her revelation boosted his ego even more. It was some kind of victory, for him.

“I wanted to see it with my eyes.” She admitted, fully aware of the fact that there was no point in hiding the truth for any longer.

He slowly got up from the chair to sit on the floor next to her.

“Tell me, (Y/n),” he started, leaning a bit towards her. “What do you see?”

There was something different in his eyes as he drew near. The way he was looking at her was captivating, hypnotising, even. Just like the scent of her perfume, which invaded his nostrils, making him want to get closer and closer.

“A reckless asshole.” She abruptly stated, watching as he widened his eyes in astonishment and moved away. “Who doesn’t understand the risks of this life.”

“What would you know about this life, little girl?” He asked, taking a cigarette out of his pocket. “You should be back at the village. Small Heath doesn’t suit you.”

He lit is cigarette, taking a first, long drag. (Y/n) leaned towards him, stealing the cigarette from his lips. “I’m not a little girl.”

He blinked, taken aback by her action. When he had convinced her to try smoking the previous month, she had sworn that she would’ve never tried again.

He waited for her to finish inhaling the smoke before taking back the cigarette. “I thought you hated cigarettes.” He stated, repeating the same thing she had told him the day she walked into his office for the first time.

“Things change.” She grinned.

They shared it in silence until it was finished. It took them back to the old days, when they spent hours in his backyard, and for a moment it was like nothing had changed.

“You said you’re not a little girl, right?” He asked her, taking something out of his pocket. In the dim light of the fire, she could recognise a small vial with some white powder in it. “So you won’t mind having a bit of fun with me.”

(Y/n) knew what he was doing. He knew her too well, he was sure that she had never even seen drugs. It was his own, twisted way of having fun. It was like he wanted to demonstrate that she didn’t belong there.

Maybe it was because of the mocking spark in his eyes, maybe it was the fact that he was so certain that she wouldn’t accept it, that she took the vial from his hand when he handed it to her.

He gestured towards the small table in front of them. She hesitated for a moment, turning to look at him. “I don’t know how to do it.” She awkwardly admitted.

Michael looked at her with a smirk, taking the vial from her hand and to spread the powder on the wooden surface. He took a bill from his pocket and formed a line, then he rolled it. “Look,” he said, leaning on the table to snort it.

(Y/n) looked at him, her uncertainty rising again. She pushed it back. He might’ve changed, but he was still her friend. She still trusted him. He wouldn’t let her get hurt.

He handed her the bill, making space for her. She snorted as well, cursing under her breath right after.

“You’ll get used to it.” He chuckled, watching as she rubbed her nose.

He knew he was right. Small Heath didn’t suit her. That life didn’t suit her. She was too good, too naive. But it was her choice.

And he didn’t mind having her next to him.

“Smoke, snow, whiskey… Your vices will kill you, Michael.”

“My vices won’t kill me.” He said, leaning back against the couch. “I’ve been making friends with them.” He murmured.

“Is it worth it?” She suddenly asked him, her bluntness fostered by the snow.

“What?”

“The risks you’re taking…this life…”

“Look, (Y/n),” he started turning towards her. “This business, the factories, the company.” He continued as his face got dangerously closer to hers. “One day, all of this will be mine.”

There he was. The real Michael. Cunning, bold and and ambitious to the core. But even she knew that it would’ve happened over Tommy’s dead body, that he was punching above his weight.

“Careful, Icarus,” she said, looking at him right in the eyes. “If you fly too close to the sun, your wings might melt.”

Tag list: @arwyn-the-cyrptic-bisexural @iamngoclinh08 @lilywinchesterlove @fandom-puff @capitanostella @caelys @lucillethings @peakyxtommy @queenofkings1212 @lyarr24

#mysterycelebrates1k #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fics #michael gray x reader #peaky blinder imagine

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writing-gifts · 3 years

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both sides of the viewfinder chp. 1

adult film star!bruno x afab!reader (they are also gn)

this is 18+ content

summary: Bruno's interested in you and you're interested in him. It's only a matter of time.

chapter 1 || chapter 2 || chapter 3 || chapter 4

------

A/N: okay so this is gonna be 3 chapters. the last chapter’s smut, but there’s pretty suggestive stuff happening in the 2nd chapter

i did research for this and wanted to try to make it more on the realistic side but there's always the chance that i messed up somewhere, so if you wanna point it out go ahead. it'll be good to know for the future!

------

This wasn't your first time filming for sex work but you felt a little out of your element. The studio that recently hired you was much bigger than what you were used to and considering that you were mainly doing freelance work before, this made everything feel much more professional and serious. Their work had to be highly produced.

"--We aren’t super strict about that, but you should definitely tell me before you go anywhere."

Right now, you were being given a quick tour by one of the people you'd be working with--the Director of Photography. Jocelyn was pretty much your manager and would be giving you most of the orders.

You continue to follow behind her as she continues to show you around. But you couldn't help eyeing the high quality lights and cameras you pass as she talked though. The equipment must have been worth a lot.

Once she has finished showing you around, she leads you back to the set filled with the crew that you passed earlier.

You listen closely as she goes over the details of the film.

"This will be the room where the main scene will take place. Today we will have you operating one of the stationary cameras, but since you’ve done stuff like this before I decided to let you do it without someone breathing down your neck. Just follow my orders."

You like the woman already. "Thank you."

"The shoot will start in--" she checks her watch, "--about an hour. Today is just filming for you but you know you’ll be doubling up as a runner when necessary. We might also have you help with other tasks while you work here too."

You nod to show you understand.

She smiles, "If you have any questions don't be afraid to ask me or any of your co-workers. Try to avoid asking the director though…."

-------

You adjust the headphones on your head as you stand in front of the camera you'd be in charge of today.

Working it should be simple enough since you didn't have to actually move. You just needed to make sure it stayed in focus so they had more options when it came to angles.

About 10 minutes later, the two actors starring today show up dressed in fairly nice clothes that they wouldn't be wearing for too long. One of them seemed quite friendly with everyone. He must be pretty popular you think.

Before you can recede to your thoughts, you recognize him.

Is that Bruno Bucciarati?

You quickly confirm that it is and turn your body away from him and towards the camera, as if doing that would hide you. You weren't necessarily a stan but you did follow him on social media. And perhaps you did subscribe to his OnlyFans. And there's a good chance you paid money for some of his work.

It wasn't your fault that he was one of the few male stars you found attractive!

You shake your head. This was work. Don't get starstruck.

Luckily, it doesn't take you long to get distracted with the camera. You rarely get to operate such expensive equipment like this so you find yourself looking at all it had to offer.

While you neglect socializing with the people you would be working with from now on, someone comes up to you.

"You look so focused."

Your eyes widen from the sudden voice and you pull down your headphones as you look to the side. "Oh sorry--" When you see who it is the rest of your statement dies in your throat.

However, Bruno isn't deterred by your abrupt stop. "You must be the new camera person."

You stare a second too long before nodding.

He holds out a hand and you have to calm your shaking one before reaching out and grabbing his. His hand was really warm.

“Nice to meet you, my name's Bruno Bucciarati."

"I'm ____. I've actually seen some of your work before! You really are as handsome as in the videos."

Even though you're straight-faced, you were regretting what you just said. It was a simple compliment but what if it was too much? His looks did astound you though, there was no denying it. And you really didn't understand how he managed to pull off that haircut.

You smile to ease the tension within yourself and Bruno returns it. Whether it was genuine or out of politeness you didn't know, but it helps you relax.

"Thank you," he says.

“Okay everyone get in your damn places! We’ll be starting soon!”

Your brows raise at the director’s choice of words.

Bruno turns back to you. "Well, let's do our best to get through this."

You nod and watch him walk towards the bed where his co-star is waiting, and the director immediately starts going over what he wants the two of them to do once he’s there.

You decide to do a quick second check on your camera to make sure everything is still working properly before waiting patiently for the director to start.

------

Between some cuts and breaks, filming’s done about 6 hours later. You’d been informed about the typical work time so you weren't surprised. The porn from this studio was highly produced, with a few “amateur” looking works thrown in, so it was the norm. But this was the longest you had worked on one film. So depending on how particular the director was, you would need to be prepared to do at least several hours of filming when behind the camera.

You rub your eyes. It's only 4 pm but you're yearning for your bed. You could only imagine how tired the actors were.

Right after you turn off the camera, Jocelyn calls you over.

"You did well today and looks like you don't need any serious training. Good job!" she praises.

You guessed you passed the new hire "test". That gave you a bit of an energy boost and you can't help the smile on your face.

While you remove the camera from its tripod, you begin to retreat to your mind. And of course, your mind wanders to a certain actor.

Bruno was good at what he did. Really good. And the other actor seemed to genuinely enjoy working with him too. For a second, you wonder what it's like.

You glance up and accidentally make eye contact with a now fully clothed Bruno. The man walks towards you and even though you had watched him just have sex for multiple hours, you feel nervous.

“What’s up?” you ask when he's close enough.

"Nothing. I like to check up on newcomers, but you must have worked in this field for a while since they usually tend to have some hang ups."

"Uh yea. I've been doing stuff like this for awhile. Good work today by the way."

"Same with you. It was long but things went as smoothly as they could."

You nod in agreement and finish folding up the tripod. “They did, but honestly that one position you were in looked super uncomfortable! Is your back okay?”

The man laughs. “I'll be fine. That was pretty tame to be fair.”

“Wow, you must be super fit or flexible then...” You notice your coworkers walking off with equipment and decide its best to end the conversation so you can follow them. "Oh, I need to put away this stuff. Thanks for checking up on me though!"

Bruno smiles at you and you scurry off with the camera and the tripod.

-----

You'd been here a week so far. Each day varied with things to do and you never really knew what you'd exactly be working on until you got to the studio.

For today you had a list of various tasks but the first one was conducting a pre-shoot interview with the actors for the porn being shot in an hour.

You look through the viewfinder at the two men sitting on the couch. You were already recording but the interview hadn't started just yet.

“It’s been awhile since I've done an interview so bear with me...” you mumble while going over the questions in your head.

“No pressure ____,” Bruno says.

The man doesn't seem bothered but Prosciutto, on the other hand, isn’t as laid back.

“You should at least have a list of questions prepared,” the blonde says.

"Yep right here!" You pull out a piece of paper from your pocket. From the list you could tell this collaboration had been long requested by their fans.

“I did my best to remember it but just in case…” You place the paper on a surface out of view.

You readjust the camera on your shoulder before speaking again. “Okay, let's start with names you say.”

You focus the camera on Bruno. You wish you had a tripod, but they were insistent on having you walk around with the damn thing to make it feel more “personal”.

"I’m Bruno Bucciarati."

You then turn the camera to focus on Prosciutto.

"I’m Prosciutto."

“So I know this is the first time you both are working together. How are we feeling?”

Bruno smiles. “I'm feeling pretty good and ready to work. How about you, Prosciutto?”

“Pretty much how I do before any shoot.”

“And what's that?” you ask.

Prosciutto crosses his arms. “Mostly relaxed but looking forward to it of course.”

"That's good. I know it'll be tiring filming and from how highly requested this seems to be, the director's going to want this to be perfect. But I'm hoping you guys still have fun."

"I'm sure we will, but I still don't know why so many people wanted us to work together," Prosciutto says.

Bruno nods. "Agreed. I feel like we’ve rarely interacted until now."

"Well people like seeing attractive people together. And I've actually seen fancams of you two interacting on Twitter. It's pretty entertaining!"

“You search those up?” Bruno asks.

“No, they just show up on my timeline sometimes.”

“...So you're a fan of Bruno then?” You weren't sure why but you sense a bit of judgement coming from Prosciutto.

"A little, but let's move on." You take a peek at the paper. "So who’s receiving and who’s catching?"

You raise a brow at how the question’s phrased.

Bruno looks at Prosciutto. “Don't you think we should let the film speak for itself.”

The blonde hums in agreement. “If they need to know so badly, they can skip ahead.”

“True. I think either way would be fun to watch though,” you say.

“Definitely. You should let me know what you think later.” Bruno says.

You don't mean to smile but it's already happening. "Sure."

“You're real unprofessional flirting with the camera person in the middle of an interview,” Prosciutto chides.

“It's just some banter. Are you jealous?”

Prosciutto tsks at Bruno's statement.

You shake your head deciding not to acknowledge those comments. The editor would have to cut out that bit. The two seemed to get along well enough for work but you had a feeling they would get on each other's nerves if they stayed together too long.

“Okay so this is definitely a good question to ask next. What do you guys like about each other? Either personality or physical wise."

Prosciutto glances at Bruno before speaking. “I can admit that the man has a nice….physique.”

You grin. "You sound like I'm putting a gun to your head."

The man fixes you with a very unamused look but you continue on smiling.

"What about you Bruno?" you ask.

“Well he has an attractive face and body, of course. His stubbornness is enjoyable at times too.”

“Stubbornness?”

Prosciutto seems to have the same question as you because he looks at Bruno for his explanation.

“Yes it's a good trait to have in certain situations.” Bruno returns the blonde’s stare. “It'll also make seeing him unravel much more interesting.”

The two of them are now looking at each other very intently and you feel like you should leave the room. But you need to finish the interview.

“Nice...so this is the last question. Is there anything specific you two are looking forward to?”

Fortunately, the two of them can still hear you and respond.

Bruno hums, “I suppose it's been awhile since I've given a blowjob, so there's that.”

"...And I'm looking forward to receiving one."

You let out a chuckle, “Okay, Prosciutto I see what you're about.” You quickly skim the list of interview questions. "Well looks like that's it! You guys ready to go?”

They both give you their positive answers.

“Then let's get you guys ready for the shoot."

Bruno smiles while Prosciutto's face stays neutral.

After that statement you stop recording.

“Okay, nice job guys!” You look at the clock on the wall. “That went pretty fast. So you can go ahead and head to the set.”

Prosciutto nods and exits the room but Bruno stays behind.

“Are you going to be helping film for the shoot?” he asks.

You gently place the camera down on the table where you left the paper.

“No, I have to go out and buy some things for something being filmed later this week. And then I have to go do some other stuff around the studio…” You laugh, “They really have me running around!”

Bruno looks slightly concerned. “You’d prefer to stay behind the camera the whole time right?”

“Yep but that's okay. I already knew what I was getting into, and I get paid better pretty well for it.” You look back up at the clock. “I’ll definitely be back for the interview after filming though so I should see you then.”

Bruno nods. "Okay, good luck with your errands."

----

By the end of the day, you're exhausted. Your list of tasks wasn't hard, you just ended up moving a lot more than you planned. You even almost forgot to take your break in your hustle.

When you return to your apartment, you eat something and take a quick shower before dressing up for bed. And once you're snuggled up in your covers, you decide to check your Twitter to see if anything interesting has happened.

While scrolling through the random posts retweeted throughout the day, you happen upon a pretty suggestive picture of Bruno in lingerie. He posted it not too long ago.

Nice.

You click on his icon to check his page to see if there’s anything else new, and under his username notice the words follows you.

Your eyes widen and you double check and refresh to make sure you're not seeing things. You go into your notifications and see that he followed you a couple hours ago. You really weren't sure what to do. It would be weird if you messaged him, right?

You take a deep breath and decide to take the chance. Bruno probably got hundreds of messages so it shouldn't be a big deal.

hi, i saw that you followed me. just making sure you didn't make a mistake lol

Before you can overthink it you send the message. After that you go back to his page and like and retweet the lingerie photo, but you still need a distraction so you wouldn't obsess over a possible reply. When you're thinking of getting out of bed, a message from Bruno pops up.

You quickly open it to see the full message.

No mistakes here. I searched you up and saw that you already followed me so I wanted to follow back.

It's not the first time you've been followed by pornstars or coworkers you worked with, but it was honestly still rare. And something about it being Bruno made your heart beat faster. You momentarily think about everything you retweeted in the last hour, before sending a message back.

oh okay, thx! i'll try not to bother you too much, you probably get a lot of messages

A few seconds pass before you get another reply.

Not necessarily. I have DMs off for people I don't follow. I love my fans but they can get...rowdy. Either way, you can message me whenever you want.

Wow, what would you even talk about with Bruno outside of work related things...

oh, that makes sense. well i guess i’ll take you up on the offer ^^

You see the three dots going for a while before another message appears.

I saw you retweeted my picture.

Your heart skips a beat.

oh god, now i feel embarrassed all of a sudden!

No don’t be. I'm glad you like it.

You smile to yourself.

yea, you look really good in lingerie ...you look good in anything tbh or without anything lmao

You feel like you're about to say something really embarrassing if this conversation continues and quickly type up another message before he can respond.

i’m really tired so i’m going to get ready for bed

The three dots disappear for a moment before showing up again.

Shame, I would have liked talking more. But I understand, you looked really exhausted during the post interview.

yea i was but it’s no biggie and we can message later ❤

Okay then, sleep well ____.

good night 😴

You close out of the app after that and honestly, that went way better than you were expecting.

#n$fw #not sfw #bruno bucciarati x reader #bruno buccellati x reader #bruno x reader #reader insert #x reader #jjba x reader #i actually had fun writing this #im still writing it actually but im mostly in the editing phase ;(

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maraudingthrough · 4 years

Note

Hi! Can I ask for prompt number 4? The one with the hugging with Sirius and female reader? Thanks !!

It's been a long, long time.

Sirius Black x Female!Reader oneshot

Words: 1.114

Warnings: Reader is a healer (for the mini-plots sake), spoilers? if you haven’t seen the movies? I hope you have?!

A/N: Hi Anon! I hope you are talking about “a hug after not seeing someone for a long time”. This calls for a big post-Azkaban scenario 😭 full of angst and fluff, hope you enjoy!

“Is this twisted sick prank?” she asked to no one in particular, the letter from Remus dropping to the polished hospital floor. The poor letter detailed the truth of what happened in Godric’s Hollow 12 years ago, or was it 13 now?

She remembered how she had woken up late the 1st of November, she had almost fainted when she reached her flat on Halloween. Going on missions for the Order wasn’t always that taxing, she usually had time to sleep in near the location, but seeing as she had to go into the deep woods to look for special plants for potions and ointments needed in the order. The war was starting to look particularly nasty on their side, and as the most qualified healer in the Order she was to roam around the woods and up the hills looking for the bloody herbs and as cozy as the woods were (obviously they weren’t), it was highly dangerous to sleep, not only because of the creatures, but because of the death eaters and she had no partner, so she had to be extra cautious.

Therefore, she was woken up not because of the rays of sun coming through her window, but because of the hurried knocks on her door. Warily she opened the door, Remus, her best friend looked defeated, pale and horribly miserable. Her gut knotted in anticipation, expecting bad news.

Nothing could have prepared for what Moony had to say.

Lily and James were dead, little Harry was with Lily’s awful side of the family, Sirius, the love of her life (although he didn’t know) was on Azkaban, Peter, squeaky and innocent Peter was dead as well. And everyone was happy, because the war was over. To say that (Y/N) was falling in a deep pit of depression and hopelessness was an understatement.

Then, she had parted ways from Remus. He thought Sirius was the awful coldhearted mass murderer everybody said he was. She was sure, so goddam sure it was impossible. Padfoot had defied all his life the beliefs of what the Black family, what Voldemort, believed in, blood supremacy. It didn’t make sense, no matter what witnesses had witnessed, it didn’t sound like Sirius. “You know Padfoot! As well as I do, how can you believe what anyone says!” She had told Moony, tears in her eyes.

“You are letting your stupid sentimentalism get in the middle of your reasoning!” He spat back, enraged on how blind his best friend was.

Needless to say, they never spoke again. Of course, until the unexpected happened. She saw all the tabloids, it was the only thing anyone in the wizarding world would talk about. Sirius Black, the mass murderer, gone from his prison cell in Azkaban. (Y/N) was able to live her life as she had till now, without too much excitement on her life, apart the long shifts at St. Mungo’s, of course.

She wrote back to Remus, asking for a further explanation, maybe they could get together for tea or something, it had been quite some time and she missed her best friend. Her shift was over, and decided to get home, deciding to dine some take out, her comfort food to be specific.

She was humming to an old song from the 70s, one that particularly reminded her of Sirius, of course she couldn’t get him out of her head. She almost dropped her take out upon looking at her door, where a black dog sat with his tongue out. He barked at her and wiggled his tail, walking to her and nudging her leg. She couldn’t even say hi, she just opened the door and let the dog in, closing the door behind her and walking to the kitchen. She heard human steps behind her and she forgot to how to breath when she turned around.

Sirius Black past glorious appearance was completely lost. The mischievous glint in his grey eyes was lost, his once silky hair was mated, knotted and reached his elbows, his body skinny and frail. His once healthy pale skin now looked sick, yellowish pale skin and dark circles down his eyes, talking about the horrible treatment he received all this years because of those foul creatures that surrounded Azkaban.

And maybe this was the worst state Sirius had ever been, but (Y/N)’s eyes twinkled and filled with tears, and she was sure she had never loved someone so much as she loved Sirius in that exact moment. Meanwhile, Sirius was afraid she was frozen in her place out of fear, but soon felt relieved when she lounged at him, wrapping her arms around him, embracing him and crying loudly. She started repeating I knew it, I knew it over and over again. She pulled back and pecked his lips, then caressed his cheeks smiling at him. “You look terrible.” she told him, a pitiful smile scanning his face.

“Yeah, I know.” he rasped, his hands had fistfuls of her jacket, holding her close to him.

“Do you need anything? Food? Water? Do you want me to fix your hair? Clothes that can warm you properly?” She asked, looking around and thinking. His lips corners twitched, and nodded.

“A shower sounds nice.” he muttered, squeezing (Y/N)’s hands. She nodded eagerly. Although she had her comfort food waiting for her, she cooked something quick and warm for Sirius. Then she rummaged around her wardrobe for his old jumpers she used to sleep, and had to Engorgio some warm sweatpants for him.

Maybe Sirius took a little too long in the shower, but she expected it mostly because of his long hair. When he emerged from the bathroom his cheeks were flushed because of the warm water and he had a towel around his waist. The witch blushed and gave him the clothes she could offer, asking him to please change in the bathroom.

After a warm meal, (Y/N) took a brush, some scissors and turned on the muggle radio she loved, because they played music from when she was in Hogwarts. With a little bit of work, she recreated a similar haircut to the one he had before. She ran her hands through his hair, it smelled like her shampoo.

“There, handsome as always.” She commented smiling brightly, sitting beside him. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it, she looked at him and was almost hypnotized by his eyes. He pulled her close and kissed her deeply.

“I missed you, love.” he muttered, kissing her again. “I missed you, so much.”

That night, they both slept together hugged and tangled, whispering sweet words to each other, and how much they had missed each other.

#sirius black x reader #sirius black #harry potter

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yodawgiherd · 3 years

Text

Cabin at Daytime

>>>Read on AO3<<<

You thought that you could escape EM cottagecore in a modern AU? Fools!

Eren was poked into consciousness by gentle yet unyielding fingers. Sitting up, he saw Mikasa watching him, eyes shining with tears.

“Another nightmare?”

She nodded.

“I know the continuation of the story, wanna hear it?”

Looking over her, Eren saw some major differences from the last time. Mikasa had tears in her eyes, but she wasn’t crying, her face had a sort of acceptance written into it. Her dream must have been bittersweet because she had a strong feeling of melancholy about her. Sad, but not terribly wrecked by it. Something happened, but it was bound to happen, and it was the best outcome of the events she was stuck at.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Eren gave her a warm smile, hoping to make her feel better.

“Of course. Told you that I’m on the edge of my seat.”

“Okay..”, she drawled, “But I have a condition.”

From the way her teeth shone in the darkness, Eren had a faint idea what Mikasa might want at three in the morning.

“Is it pancakes?”, he tried.

It was pancakes.

Fifteen minutes later, he was standing in the kitchen and preparing her sweet treat while Mikasa sat at the counter, bare legs swinging freely. Her hands were wrapped around a fresh cup of coffee that she was sipping in order to wake up.

“So?”, he asked, sprinkling the chocolate chips in, “Going to tell me while I cook?”

“Sure.”, Mikasa took a deep breath and looked Eren straight in the eyes, her voice serious, “I killed you.”

Not that surprising, considering that he was the big bad evil guy in her dreams.

“Again? Didn’t you dream about that already?”

“I did, but It was different this time.”

“And didn’t Armin off me too?”

Mikasa shook her head, the moonlight reflecting against her midnight bangs.

“You got up from that.”

“Guess I could have seen it coming, I’m nothing if not stubborn.”

She giggled at that, small simpers escaping through the tears that were present on her face.

“I cut off your head.“

“How?“

“With a sword.”, she reached over, dragging a single black fingernail over Eren’s throat, “Riiiight here.”

“Ouch.”

“And then we kissed.”

“Uhm...”

Mikasa fell silent, pondering what she just said.

“Well,”, Eren began, “Did I see you before you killed me?”

“Yea…”

“All good then.”

She looked up, a question on her face.

“What do you mean?”

“If I got to die while looking at you, then there is nothing more I could wish for.”

A sniffle.

“There was no other way.”

“Of course. I told you – that mess must have been my fault, I do not blame you in the slightest. Although there is one thing I’d like to say.”

“Yes?”

“I think that I prefer kissing you while my head is attached to my body.”

Finally, she laughed out loud, scooting over on the kitchen counter to be closer. Taking a gentle hold of his head, Mikasa angled it properly, bowing down and pressing her lips against his. So warm and gentle, as only Eren could be, it made her eyes flutter close from the pure sweetness of it. His were closed too, she noticed, but he was very much alive against her mouth. Mikasa tasted like the coffee she drank and combined with the natural sweetness of her lips, it was downright delicious. Nip here and there, Mikasa was sighing into the kiss before she realized it.

“As much as I adore kissing you, I should finish the food.”, Eren murmured against her addicting lips, “Might burn it.”

Mikasa loved Eren’s chocolate chip pancakes and burning them was heresy. Releasing him, she sat back, leaning on her arms and watching him work.

“You know, maybe it’s not so bad that you cut my head off.”

“Eren, what in seven hells are you on about?”

“Well, even as a head I could be of service to you,”, like a damn snake, he wiggled his tongue at her, “You do adore my oral skill, don’t you?”

She did, but Mikasa also strongly preferred having all of Eren to enjoy, not just a damn head. That joke went overboard for her because she remembered the kiss from her dream which was so tragic and so far from what Eren was suggesting. Filled with a wave of slight nausea, Mikasa let her disgust show on her face.

“Fine, I’m not talking to you anymore. Even better, I’m breaking off our engagement and I’ll be moving out in the morning. Good day, sir.”

With that, she turned away from him, closing her eyes and overall just being done with Eren Yeager. Seeing it, he realized that he might have overstepped his boundaries, and the last thing he wanted was to have his angel mad at him. Turning the heat down for a moment, he leaned closer, gently nudging the collar of her too-large sleeping shirt down her shoulder with his nose. Once her porcelain skin was bare to him, Eren kissed it gently, moving his lips over the pale expanse. At the same time his hands got adventurous, one starting from Mikasa’s knee and moving upwards, kneading those wonderful thighs of hers. The other circled her unresponsive form, a finger tracing the curve of her spine. She didn’t pull away but didn’t react to him either, marking his efforts as inefficient for now.

“I’m sorry, it was inappropriate.”

Nope, nothing. Very well then.

Eren moved up, focusing his kisses on her neck now, gently biting into the skin. His hand also slid up to Mikasa’s inner thigh, caressing. Finally that coaxed something out of her, a tiny moan that escaped her lips.

“I’m very sorry, Miki.”, he repeated between the kisses, “Please forgive me.”

Even while apologizing, he couldn’t help himself when his nose was pressed right against her skin. Her scent invaded his mind, gliding around the familiar place, reminding him of everything good that was in his life.

“God, you smell so good.”, he murmured.

She snickered, and the combination of joy and pleasure produced by Eren was enough for Mikasa to forgive. She turned towards him, grey eyes sliding over his face.

“Eren, I love you, but please don’t say things like that again. That kiss was so far from anything even remotely sexual that…”

“I know, and I won’t. I’m sorry, again.”

“Good.”, leaning close, she pecked him on the lips, “Now get back to cooking, I’m supposed to get my pancakes.”

With a grin, Eren let go of her and returned to the task at hand. Turning the heat up, he watched the pancake simmer into existence, all under Mikasa’s hungry gaze. She loved chocolate, and Eren made sure to put an extra portion of the brown chips into the next pancake he began creating.

“There was something else.”, she said, “Like a dream within a dream.”

That piqued his interest.

“Do go on.”

“The other Mikasa…”

“Dreamkasa?”, Eren offered, making her frown.

“Shush.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Dreamkasa. Almost as bad as that incredible nickname she had, Gothkasa. Pfff…

“She had a vision or something, of her living together with the other Eren, in a cabin.”

“Sounds peaceful.”

“It was. But at the same time…”, Mikasa rubbed a hand over her temple, trying to remember, “It was sad because they gave up something very important to have that life together. Still, he was so sweet to her, it was a wonderful experience.”, a memory coming back made her smile, “He caught fish for her.”

“Damn, I better step up my game then. But isn’t dream Eren a bad guy?”

“I don’t rightly know, the details escape me. I do remember how she felt about him though.”, Mikasa’s fingernails scratched the kitchen counter when she shifted her position, “She loved him, loved him so much. It reminded me of how much I love you.”

“Well, I can’t speak for the Dream Ere-,”, a grin, “Dreamren, but I love you to death. Not sure about catching, but if you want, I’ll buy you the biggest fish I can find.”

She smiled at that, softly.

“I’ll keep that in mind. I think that Eren loved her too, in his own way. It was the world that didn’t allow them to be together.”

“That’s a tragedy if I ever heard one.”, Eren flipped the pancake, “If the world was keeping me away from you, I’d be pretty darn pissed.”

“I don’t think that I would let anything keep us apart.”, Mikasa interjected, unconsciously flexing her impressive musculature.

“And to think that we almost broke up in the past over such stupid stuff.”

“Did we really?”

“Uhm…”, Eren looked up from his work, “You don’t remember?”

“I do, but I’m not sure that it was a breakup. We both felt terrible during it, didn’t we?”

“It was the worst time of my life.”, Eren immediately confessed.

“Same here. My point is, I doubt that we could ever stay apart, we craved each other so much.”

“Makes sense. Somewhat.”

“Yet all these problems and issues we have seem so trivial compared to what she went through. War, apocalypse, fighting for her life every damn day.”, Mikasa shivered, “She was a real hero.”

“Well, I for one am glad that no man-eating giants are chasing us around.”, he put the pancake on the growing pile, making another one right after, “I strongly prefer having you for myself and kissing you while not being dead.”

Stealing the fruit of his labor, Mikasa popped it into her mouth. Chewing, she had to agree with Eren on this one. Living like this was much better than the daily nightmares she had to go through in her past life-or-dreams. Here, Eren wasn’t threatening to destroy the whole world and she wasn’t forced to kill him to save it. Here, she could kiss him as much as she wanted to, their first kiss was very far from being the last. Here, they could get lost in each other’s bodies and consummate their love physically, without a worry in the world. Here, she could fall asleep in his arms every night and wake up to his yawning every morning. Here…. Here was everything she could ever ask for.

With the pancakes gone they settled on the couch, Mikasa lying down with Eren on top of her, tangled together. His head was in her hands and she ran her hands through his hair, once again getting too long. She should cut it. The thought of a haircut brought back yet another slight headache and a new memory popped up, again of the cabin. Mikasa looked at it, inspected the picture in her mind. There was something about that place, the simple wooden building was drawing her in. Maybe she should see it for herself, experience that dream within a dream. Giving in to her temptation, Mikasa spoke up.

“Eren?”

“Yes love?”

“Could we also go to a cabin for a few days?”

“Well aren’t you easily influenced.”, despite the tone of his words, Eren was smiling when he said them, “But I don’t mind, I should take a break from work. We’ll look for something in the morning, it will be nice to leave the city behind for a spell.”

Yet while running away from everything was cool in the concept, they both had several obligations to fulfill. Realizing that, Mikasa’s nose scrunched in irritation.

“Kiyomi won’t be pleased.”

“Neither will Erwin or Levi.”, Eren shrugged, “They’ll survive without us.”

This careless Eren was charming, and Mikasa found herself liking it.

“Okay. Let’s have a romantic getaway then.”

“Following the footsteps of a war hero and man who committed genocide.”

“They were quite the pair.”, Mikasa agreed, “But that only made their love that much special.”

“Let’s see, maybe we will get a whiff of it at the cabin.”

Plans made, dreams explained, pancakes eaten, they were tangled together in that comfortable silence achieved once a pair knows each other inside and out. The sun was slowly rising behind the windows, the night retreating. It was the incredible comfort and warmth Mikasa had in this love, it echoed through her entire being. Realizing it made her smile like an idiot because she and Eren were so lucky that they had each other forever. Although, if those dreams were truly her past life and she had to go through that much shit to get here, this love they had was well deserved.

Hundred times over.

In the end, it was surprisingly easy to arrange their little getaway. Erwin was happy to give Eren time off, Kiyomi would do anything for her star girl, and while Levi complained, he was secretly glad that Mikasa is taking a break. Sure, training was important with the Colosseum closer every day, but mental health was important too, and his sister more than deserved to have time for herself. And that fiancé of hers, Levi supposed. A tiny obstacle arose when Eren tried to pick the location because Mikasa was hard to satisfy.

“Not that one.”, she shook her head, “too modern.”

“Not this one either, I want to be close to the ocean.”

“Nah, not this, It has to be somewhere in the mountains.”

In the end, Eren gave up and let her search by herself while he packed. It didn’t take him long, as they needed just a few necessary things, the rest could always be bought. As he was zipping the bag closed, a sound of joy came from the table.

“Eren! I got it!”

He walked over to her, frowning at the cabin she picked. It looked archaic, old, and wooden, located away from any civilization.

“Looks savage.”

“This is the one. I’m sure of it.”, Mikasa was decided, and Eren wouldn’t argue.

This whole operation was her idea, after all. Mikasa’s cabin had an interesting rental system - once Eren paid the required amount the key would be waiting for them under a doormat. Guess it made sense, considering that there was literally no one around the cabin, and animals could hardly pick up the key and unlock the door. Unless they tried hard, that is. With the money transferred, all that was left was to get dressed and pick up the bags Eren packed, putting it all in the car. It was go time.

She was watching him from the passenger seat, he realized, her grey eyes studying from the dark shadows her makeup created. With a ruffle of her short, red pleated skirt, Mikasa put one foot up, the bottom of her white sneaker sinking a bit into the seat. The sunlight streaming in through the windows shimmered at her jewelry, the earrings and piercings, the studs in her choker, all the necklaces and most prominently on the silver cross that was snug between her breasts. Couldn’t forget her rings too, Eren reminded himself, watching as she smoothed a few bangs back behind her ear. Right, he should be focusing on the road, not on the way Mikasa dressed. Sure, the long black top was nice and all, hell, her whole outfit was amazing, but that was Mikasa for him. Beautifully pulling off the style that made Kiyomi’s teeth grit, because goth was dead but her top model didn’t care in the least.

Wondering if she will say what’s on her mind, Eren focused on the road, only sometimes stealing sidelong glances at her. He watched as Mikasa put one hand up to support her head, the sleeve of her shirt riding down and revealing the netted fingerless glove underneath. It was easy to know why she dressed up like this, even when they were going to a cottage in the middle of nowhere. Goth was her comfort clothing, she knew it inside out and put it on to prevent herself from being nervous. The makeup and jewelry were a routine that calmed her, her armor, it put her mind at ease. Eren knew why the cabin getaway put Mikasa in such a state, it must have been the dream. They worried her, even as they were approaching the romantic alone time, most likely because going there was triggered by them. To get her mind away from it, or offer encouragement, Eren spoke up.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

She stared at him for a moment, one black fingernail tapping at the corner of the dark red painted lips.

“I feel strange.”

“Strange good or strange bad? If it’s bad I’m turning the car around.”

“Neither, just strange.”

Talk about lack of information.

“Do you want to go back?”

Mikasa considered it for a moment but shook her head after, the inverted crosses in her ears swinging.

“No.”

The word had a finality to it, and Eren didn’t question it. Mikasa was an adult, she could decide on where she wanted to spend her time. Focusing back on the driving and away from the alluring goth visage on the passenger’s seat, Eren gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter and the car ate away at the distance.

The cabin was everything Mikasa wanted it to. It was wooden, old and looked as if it would fold by a stronger gust of wind. It was perfect. She almost ran to the door, the grass sliding beneath her sneakers, found the key under the doormat and unlocked. Yes, she thought to herself with eyes wandering, this was so close to her dream it was unreal. Almost as if the cabin was torn from her thoughts and put into reality. Eren came up behind her with the bags in his hands, breathing slightly faster than usual. He insisted on carrying everything like the gentleman he was, knowing that Mikasa could carry both him and the bags and not even get winded.

“You like it?”, he asked, putting the burden down and looking over the interior himself.

“It’s amazing, exactly as I wanted it to be.”

Sure, it was rundown, dirty, and probably very far from the health standards Eren would want, but Mikasa was happy. And that’s what mattered.

“Spectacular.

With a smile, Mikasa went out, soaking in the sunrays. Noticing a bench under the window, she crossed the distance to it, running a hand over the aged wood. But just as her skin made contact with the coarse surface, something happened. Splitting headache brought Mikasa down to her knees, eyes watering from the pain. She could see it now, clear as day, a scene unfolding in front of her. Eren was sitting at the bench, strange markings on his face, almost like scars. She, or the other version of her, was standing in front of him, her hair longer than what Mikasa’s current style was. She leaned forward, gently taking Eren’s head in her hands. He looked at her, and the tiredness in his face, that hurt to see. The scene was so painful that it tugged at Mikasa’s heart, the ache only intensifying when the other girl spoke, so softly. She spoke to that tired man and his face lit up as if her words could take away the pain and suffering he was experiencing. As if her voice was that of an angel, sent to finally free him from his torment.

“See you later, Eren.”, the other Mikasa said before planting a kiss on his lips.

Her vision blurring, she clutched her head against nausea, the scene evaporating into nothingness.

“Hey, Miki? Miki are you okay?”, a shuffle of boots on the ground and suddenly there was a presence next to her.

That was Eren, her Eren, the one with a manbun and no scars on his face. She leaned onto his body for support, closing her eyes and breathing evenly, the headache slowly fading.

“Is something wrong? Are you sick?”, the doctor in him was out now, hands gently gliding over her face to check. She opened her eyes, letting him see her pupils.

“I’m fine.”, she said, “Just a headache.”

He wasn’t satisfied with that.

“And I saw a vision.”, she added, making his eyes widen.

“Vision? Like your dreams?”

“Yes... But I’m not asleep, am I?”

Gently as he could, Eren walked her over to the bench, the same on the other Eren was sitting at. There, she told him everything she saw, down to every tiny detail.

“I guess being here is too similar to what the dream was about.”, she concluded, “It must have triggered my “memories” somehow.”

“Do you want to leave?”

“No.”, the answer was immediate, “I might get more visions, but I feel so peaceful here, it’s beautiful.”

Eren chewed his bottom lip, obviously worried about her wellbeing, but Mikasa was determined. Leaning closer, she kissed him, trying to put his fears to rest.

“I promise that I’ll tell you when I feel unwell. Okay?”

Maybe moved by the kiss, or just because he was very bad at saying “No” to her in general, Eren agreed.

“Let’s stay here a while.”, he said, most likely to make sure that Mikasa was all right, but she didn’t complain.

Leaning on his shoulder, Mikasa felt his arm wrap around her as he pulled her close, and they sat together on the bench, staring over the never-ending ocean. She was right, it was beautiful.

#eremika #fanfic #snk #cottagecore

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yakuzacasual · 3 years

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I need you to know I read that Daigo post liek 6 times in the past 12 hours. Imagine Daigo going about his business when he remembers something he said and he just out of fight or flight responses crushes whatever is in his hand (usually a pen or box of cigs) or if he’s friends with the person, they might lowly say one of his pick up lines to him in his slurred tone and he’s hit w flashbacks that make him wanna run. Any thoughts? I have so many ideas if you ever want to discuss🥰

PREFACE

Good day, we continue on our endeavour to bully Daigo.

Idk how I feel about the result of this one, especially since I was writing it during a lecture and half-alseep, but it definitely was fun. The idea was *tries to correctly spell out gorgeous a few times because life imitates memes* gorgeous and I am forever in your debt. Hope you’re having an amazing day!

DAIGO GETTING TEASED FOR HIS “PHASE”

This scenario is kind of a follow up to THIS.

With how dignified and confident he acts, everyone instantly assumes that Daigo Dojima is constantly at the top of his game. What they don’t realize is that underneath that very well-maintained facade he’s been keeping up for years now, there is still a simple, self-loathing man, forever burdened by all kinds of stupid shit he has done in his youth. Being a god awful flirt is one of them, as previously explored, and now that he’s got a living, breathing proof of this past misbehaviour by his side, controlling the sudden waves of shame has gotten harder than ever. You have seen him at the pinnacle of his worst, at the lowest he could sink with the slurred flirting and wandering hands. And yet, after the somewhat weird reconciliation, you’ve still accepted him as your friend. He regrets that now, albeit only a bit.

At times he just randomly remembers bits and pieces by himself. Maybe it’s a box of cigs that reminds him of a brand he used to smoke back in the day, maybe he accidentally stumbles upon a nice, white jacket and his mind wanders to the puffy monster he once owned? All sorts of things may end up being his spark, even most random ones that none would ever suspect. The result, however, is always the same. It’s always a raging fire inside of his brain - a scene straight from Spongebob really, if you know, you know - and a look of absolute apathy on his tired face, as he takes out his embarrassment-turned-anger on whatever he has on hand. The cig box? Squished. The pencil? Broken in half. The phone? Cracked and his hand is now bleeding, stabbed with small glass bits and he doesn’t even realize it until someone points it out. Please help this man. The reaction is but an instinct and Daigo doesn’t control it well, if at all. He’d literally bend a road sign if that’s the closest thing he has. No aggression against living beings, though. Should he only have, say, a stray dog at hand, he’s going to gently pet the heck out of the lucky pup and, as he discovers, it’s even more therapeutic that way. He may even adopt a few strays into his office, without Kashiwagi knowing of course, and treat them like royalty while they help him unwind.

Sometimes you take it upon yourself to tease him mercilessly, to the point where you’ve almost perfected your impression of his broody self. And by gods, nothing gets his goat quite like this does. He knows you don’t mean anything by it, you don’t do it out of spite, you just want to get a reaction. Still, it immediately awakens the fight or flight response and you do not wish to fight him. The flight response, though? Probably exactly the thing you would expect and want, which is Daigo’s ears going red - see, the emo haircut would’ve come in handy now, aye? - some nervous line barked right back at you, one that most likely makes no sense and then just one spin of the heel and he is GONE. With the long strides of his legs he is out of sight and out of mind the moment you blink and you can be sure he’ll stay away for the rest of the day, seeking for ways to alleviate the stress you’ve inflicted upon him. Now, all of the family is giving you nasty looks, knowing very well what went down, again, and expecting to end up as the collateral damage of the boss being in a bad mood, again. Should you make the teasing your MO, you’re going to be both the most beloved person amongst the lower underlings - your guts are just something else, they concur - but also the number one public enemy of anyone working directly under Daigo. And of that he is well aware, so he makes absolutely sure that no one tries anything stupid.

In his free time, he is trying to prepare for the future instances of your teasing. He has full out conversations with himself, preparing for a variety of different things you may such just so that he has a properly witty response, while also sounding like he just came up with it on the spot. He puts a lot of effort into playing out the scenarios, sometimes even getting some closest friends to support him. Unfortunately, it hardly ever pays off. Most of the time you just end up surprising him to the point where he forgets his lines and becomes a bumbling mess instead. It makes him ditch the initial idea of training all together, grow a few more silver strands and also form a fresh furrow on his forehead.

While it may not seem like it, Daigo is not mad at you for the teasing. If anything, he considers it to be a good way to get over his anxiety and slowly stop caring about the stuff that he can’t really change. You may want to gift him with things such as these anti-stress balls that you can squeeze in your hands, he’ll be absolutely elated to know you care, but do be prepared to have the ball jokingly thrown at you whenever you start your shenanigans again. With time and practice he may even join the banter, maybe even have some competitions for the worst pickup lines amongst his closest friends or best impressions of himself. In general, thanks to this influence, he starts to embrace the weird phase he’s always been ashamed of as an integral part of who he is today and learns how to change it into a joke. He won’t stop occasionally crushing shit, though.

#yakuza #Ryu ga Gotoku #rgg #rgg x reader #yakuza x reader #yakuza 2 #yakuza kiwami 2 #yakuza 3 #yakuza 4 #yakuza 5 #like a dragon #yakuza imagines #x reader #daigo dojima #daigo x reader #imagine #Headcanon #request

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adenei · 3 years

Text

Finding My Way To You - Ch. 8

AO3 // FFN

Adjusting

“Mum, I really don’t think all of this is necessary..” Hermione said the following day. Her parents had both taken the day off to spend time with them, and Jean had whisked her daughter away for lunch and an afternoon of shopping.

“What? Being able to spend time with my daughter? When’s the last time we went shopping together? Hermione, dear, you are desperately in need of some new clothes! Plus, I want to help you find something special for your date tonight,” Mrs. Granger smiled knowingly.

Hermione sighed. Her mother was right. The clothes she did have were ragged from being on the run for almost a year, and it was nice to be able to spend time with her again. This was the kind of thing she’d hoped to do with her mother before sixth year started, when she thought she and Ron may be on the verge of something then. Speaking of…

“Mum, what did Ron say to you last night to change your mind about things?” she asked again, hoping she’d crack on the fourth try.

They’d been out much longer than Hermione had expected, which made her nervous, but when they’d returned, Ron looked relieved and Mum had a smile on her face. Hermione looked at her dad for help in gathering an explanation, but he simply shrugged. Even Ron was tight lipped about the exchange last night. That annoyed her, and subsequently cut into their ‘getting to know you’ time she was hoping for.

What Ron did admit was what her mother was planning for tomorrow evening. “She called to make a reservation at some posh seafood restaurant for us tomorrow evening.”

“All four of us?” Hermione asked for clarification.

“No, just you and me. She wants us to go on a proper date. Said something about checking the cinemas, too, whatever that means. Would you be alright to join me for dinner tomorrow evening, say, around 6:30?” he said with a chuckle.

“I’d be delighted,” Hermione played along. “But I’m not sure I have anything to wear,” she frowned.

“Right, I forgot that bit. Your mum’s planning to be here around eleven tomorrow to take you to lunch and shopping.”

Hermione smiled at the recollection as she browsed the current boutique they were in. They already had several bags between them of new clothes for Hermione. Several new shirts and jumpers, a couple pairs of jeans, trousers and skirts, and even new undergarments, which Hermione had been resistant towards at first. She was secretly happy, though because when she was ready to take that step with Ron, she wanted something cute or sexy and not just plain old boring cotton. Her cheeks flushed at the thought of wanting to be ‘sexy’ for someone.

She’d even caved and allowed her Mum to purchase a new swimsuit. It felt like ages since Hermione had worn one, not since their trip to France all those summers ago, and it took several choices (of both her own and others her mum tossed over the dressing room door) before Hermione had decided on a bright blue two piece with white polka dots. The top was modest enough with a twist front that had string ties in the back, and the bottom was somewhat high waisted, which made her feel more comfortable. Her mum had also picked up a couple beach towels and insisted Hermione buy flip flops, or thongs, as the Aussies called them.

“The weather is supposed to be beautiful tomorrow. You and Ron absolutely need to experience a beach day, so you’ll be prepared!”

Hermione couldn’t help but laugh. “Mum, are you trying to plan the rest of our stay here?”

“Of course not! I just want you both to experience everything we’ve grown to love about this little corner of the world. Plus, you both deserve a bit of a holiday after everything you’ve been through.”

“Thanks, Mum,” Hermione said, as she felt an overwhelming need to hug her mother right then and there.

Their last stop found Hermione the perfect dress for her date tonight. It was teal, and flowy with wide straps and a keyhole opening. A satin band gathered at the waist to provide some shape on her body, and the flowy skirt came to her mid thigh. It was the perfect balance of elegant, yet beachy, and her mum had found a wedge, peep toe sandal to finish off the look.

“Thank you again for all of this, Mum. Even after everything I did…”

“Hermione, you’ll always be our daughter, and I’ll always love you. I only want the best for you, and even though Ron’s made mistakes in my eyes, he’s certainly proved to me that he’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy, and I respect that.”

“Sometimes I think I don’t deserve him.”

“It’s all about balance, my dear. Tell me, did you ever apologize to him about the canary incident?”

Hermione felt as though ice had been poured down her back at her mother’s words. She knew that she and Ron had gotten past the whole Lavender debacle, but thinking back on it, she realized that there never was an explicit apology for that.

“I- erm-” she stuttered.

“You really should. I raised you better than that.”

“You’re right. And I suppose I probably should apologize for attacking him when he came back as well..” she hesitantly admitted.

“Excuse me?” Her mother stopped on the sidewalk and looked at her. “I did not raise you to react with violence, young lady.”

“I know, I know! I just- I let my emotions get the best of me. I promise I’ll do better about keeping them in check.”

“I’m not the one you should be making that promise to, but I appreciate the intent.”

“You’re right.”

“Dare I ask what you did to that poor boy when he came back?”

“Umm, I used him as a punching bag, as Dad would say,” Hermione admitted.

“Oh, Hermione..I know you inherited my anger, but please don’t take it out on him like that.”

“I won’t. Not anymore.”

She knew it was wrong, and even though it wasn’t something she talked about often, she was ashamed of her actions. Pride and embarrassment had forced her to ignore bringing it up, but if they were going to start off their relationship properly, it needed to be discussed.

Hermione noticed her mum checking her watch. “We’ve got just enough time to get you cleaned up and ready for your date. I had your father bring a few items over to your flat when he went to pick up Ron.”

“Items? What do you mean?” Hermione asked curiously.

“Hair product and makeup, of course!”

“But-”

“No buts! We have an hour to get you ready before Ron’s due to pick you up.”

“He’s not already there?” Hermione was having trouble keeping up with her mum, both in walking speed and conversation.

“Heavens, no! It’s a proper date, remember? Now, let’s go!”

~o~

Ron was standing in the guest bedroom of the Granger’s home. He was looking in the wall mirror at his own reflection. His afternoon had been spent out with Hugo. He’d gotten a haircut at a local barber, found swim trunks for their ‘beach day’ tomorrow as Jean kept calling it, and an outfit for his date tonight. He was wearing a nice pair of trousers with camel colored dress shoes. His shirt was light blue with faint, thin pinstripe lines to give the illusion of texture.

For the first time since Bill and Fleur’s wedding, he was proud of the way he looked. Mr. Granger had a knack for muggle style, and even though he was older, Ron trusted his judgement. He reminded himself of one of those business lads that flooded the sidewalks on the morning and evening commutes. He felt bad, and had tried to pay for the clothes himself, but Hugo had insisted. Mr. Granger had offered to purchase more for Ron when he caught him eyeing a new pair of trainers, and jeans that might actually fit his long legs, but Ron politely refused.

“Ready to go?” Hugo called from the bottom of the stairs, drawing Ron out of his thoughts.

He couldn’t wait to see Hermione. It’d been a long afternoon without her. Especially because he’d grown accustomed to being with her day in and day out. They made the short drive over to the flat, where Jean was waiting by the door. She held the door open for Ron as she wished them well for the night and reminded him of how to get to the restaurant, which was about five blocks away.

He watched them go and then bounded up the stairs. He was about to just walk into their shared flat, but paused and remembered that this was a date, so he knocked on the door. Ron barely had to wait for Hermione to open it.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but the sight of her in front of him made his jaw drop and he was pretty sure his heart stopped briefly. She was gorgeous. Her mum had no doubt helped her tame her wild curls, and it looked like she was wearing just enough makeup to accentuate her features. Not like the grams of it Lavender would plaster on her face every day. Her chocolate brown eyes were brought out by a light layer of deep purple, which were staring at him in much the same way he was looking at her, with adoration. And Merlin, that dress. She wasn’t one to wear dresses casually. Not that this was casual or anything, but he’d only really ever seen her in her school uniform or formal wear. He needed to say something to snap himself out of it before he lost his senses completely.

“You look beautiful,” he said.

“And you cut your hair,” she responded. “It suits you. You look really nice in muggle clothes.” Hermione smiled shyly at him.

Ron smiled back at him as he rubbed his neck awkwardly. Why did this feel so weird? This was Hermione, his best friend. “Should we, er, get going? We’ve got a bit of a walk.”

Hermione nodded as she grabbed her purse and locked up. Ron held out his hand and she took it as they made their way down the sidewalk towards the restaurant. They were quiet for a while, until Hermione finally said, “Is it just me, or does this feel…”

“Weird?” Ron finished.

“Yes!” Hermione said through an exhale.

“Yeah...what’s wrong with us? We haven’t changed or anything,” Ron joked.

“I know,” Hermione said. He noticed her blush in the soft glow of the streetlight.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know, it’s just that- nevermind, it’s rubbish,” Hermione talked herself out of saying what she was thinking.

“No, tell me. Please?” Ron urged gently.

Hermione took a deep breath. “I guess I’m just worried I’m going to mess this up. I don’t want to do or say anything wrong,” she admitted.

“Me too,” Ron agreed. They walked another block or so, double checking street signs so they didn’t miss a turn.

“Do you think it’s like this for all couples who were friends first?” Hermione asked him.

“Er, yeah, could be. Never really thought about it, though.” Ron admitted.

“So, then, maybe we should just act like nothing’s really different. Let’s not put extra pressure on anything,” Hermione suggested.

Ron chuckled. “That works for me. I think this is it.” He pointed to a sign just up ahead.

They checked in at the hostess stand and were seated at a table on the edge of the main dining room. It felt more private than some of the other tables in the center of the room, and gave them a spectacular view of the ocean lit up by the moonlight.

As Ron began to look at the menu, he noticed the prices. It was expensive. They ordered their drinks from the server, and then they were alone again to look over the menu.

“Er, Hermione,” Ron said, getting her attention. She peeked at him from over her menu. “I don’t know if I have enough to, er…”

He saw her eyebrows raise in understanding. “Don’t worry, Mum gave me her credit card. It’s taken care of.”

“But your parents have already done so much for us,” Ron protested. “And it’s our first, er second, date. I should pay..” That’s what a true gentleman did, wasn’t it?

“Please, it’s okay. They want to spoil us,” Hermione told him.

He sighed and gave in. It was either that or insist they leave, which could cause a scene and he didn’t want that either. “So then, what would you suggest for a meal?” he asked her, looking at the varieties of shellfish that he’d never had.

He ended up settling on a pasta dish that included a variety of seafood. Scallops, shrimp, and clams in a light wine and butter cream sauce. Hermione had chosen a salmon dish over risotto, and they’d split an appetizer of crab stuffed mushrooms. The meal was delicious, despite Hermione having to help guide him through eating so he wouldn’t accidentally consume any shells.

They were browsing over the dessert menu as Hermione said, “Seafood always tastes better when it’s fresh, don’t you think?”

“I’m sure it does, not that I have much to compare it to. We’ll have to find a place when we’re back in England so I can see if there’s a difference.”

His heart skipped a beat as he watched her face light up at his suggestion. “I’d like that.”

Their desserts came shortly after as they talked about what they wanted and needed to do when they got back to England. Ron had opted for a chocolate mousse cake, while Hermione chose creme brulee. She began picking at it about halfway through.

“Everything alright?” he asked her.

“Yes, of course! I’m just getting full, that’s all.” He could tell when she was lying because she didn’t make eye contact.

“Hermione…”

“I’m sorry about attacking you with the canaries sixth year,” she said through a grimace. “It was, um, brought to my attention that I never actually apologized about it.”

“That’s what was bothering you? It’s ancient history, Hermione, it’s fine.”

“See, you always say that, but it’s not. I can’t just physically hurt you when I’m angry at you. Like when I punched you after you came back to the hunt..”

“It’s...alright. I was a prat, too,” Ron tried to make her feel better.

“Yes, but you’ve never physically hurt me. I promise I won’t do that ever again. I’ll keep my emotions in check.” She met his eyes this time, indicating her sincerity.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Ron smiled. “Now, can we discuss something a bit more light hearted?” He suggested.

Hermione smiled gratefully as she took another bite of her dessert. “Did you want to go to the cinemas?” She checked her watch. “If we hurry, the one Mum suggested starts in twenty minutes just down the street.”

“I don’t know. As much as I’d like to experience it, I think I’d rather take a walk on the beach if you wanted to.”

“I like that idea so much better,” Hermione smiled. “Mum will forgive me for not following her plan completely, I’m sure. Besides, I’m sure some movie will be playing on the telly when we get back.”

“Brilliant!”

After they paid for their meal, they exited the restaurant and crossed the street to one of the many public entrances to the beach. They chose to walk along the water where the sand was a bit harder, and headed in the direction of their temporary flat. Hand in hand, they meandered along.

“The waves are so much calmer here than at Shell Cottage,” Ron remarked.

“That’s because the weather is much nicer. Every body of water can be rough and choppy or smooth with gentle waves,” Hermione explained.

He knew that, of course, but sometimes he loved to listen to her explain things. It had become a sort of comfort to him years ago. He just pretended it annoyed him to get under her skin. “Do you know how many times I hoped that we could experience something like this, but was convinced we’d be dead by the end?” he asked softly.

“I know. We nearly were...several times,” Hermione said.

“How’d we make it out? How’d we get so lucky. We shouldn't have..” Ron had to catch himself before he went into a spiral as he was reminded of who they’d lost. Fred, in particular.

“Don’t think like that,” Hermione said gently as she squeezed his hand. “We are still here, and you know he would want us to make the most of that.”

She somehow always knew what to say when it counted the most. Ron felt a rush of emotion flood over him. He loved her so much. His feet stopped right there, and he pulled Hermione back when she kept walking and was caught by her fully extended arm, their fingers still intertwined together. “You’re right. And I’m the luckiest bloke alive to have this chance with you.”

The setting was perfect. Sand beneath their feet, the moon and stars shining down on them, creating a soft glow of light, and the gentle crashing of waves close by. He pulled her close to him, bending down to kiss her. Ron felt her arms snake around his waist, while his own split duties. One hand cupped her face while the other snaked in her hair.

He deepened the kiss and allowed himself to forget they were on the beach as he became lost in her. All he could feel was her, as he hesitantly grazed her bottom lip with his tongue. She opened her mouth further, granting him entry, as his tongue gently moved in and explored her mouth. She eagerly met his tongue with her own as Ron’s hands began to move down her body.

He wanted more. Not that he wanted to rush things, but he was so overcome with want that it was hard to think straight. It took a car horn blaring from the streets to draw them back into reality. They reluctantly broke apart as he sought her eyes with his own.

“I think we should get back to the flat,” Hermione said breathily.

Ron simply nodded, not trusting his voice. They’d have plenty of time on the beach tomorrow.

#ROMIONE #hp post war #hp australia #Ron Weasley #Hermione Granger #ron x hermione

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soft-glitch · 3 years

Text

Through Thick And Thin

Fandom: Sonic the Hedgehog

Type: hurt/comfort, platonic fluff

Word count: about 2700 words

Author’s notes: this year was a mess. But I’m grateful for a few things that happened to me in 2020. One of these things is getting into the Sonic fandom, which helped me find joy in being creative again. Another is a budding friendship with someone really cool, that I can only hope will last for a long time.

This fic is kind of a gift to that person for New Year’s Day. To everyone, but especially to you O, I wish a happy new year and many good things to come.

- - - - -

It was not an easy morning.

Shadow had always been an early bird. He never needed much sleep compared to other mobians, thanks to his bio-engineered origins. This was both a blessing and a curse, depending on the days.

Being able to stay up most of the night during missions proved useful more than once. On the other hand, when ugly thoughts would assail him and sleeping them away was not an option, well… It was suddenly much less interesting.

On this last day of December, the hedgehog could not shake uneasy feelings. Between Eggman’s plotting and his own personal issues Shadow always had rough times, but this year had been… a lot.

Walking silently in the empty corridor, careful not to wake up anyone in the household, the dark mobian reached the kitchen and started preparing hot chocolate. Since most of his friends knew about his sweet tooth he didn’t bother hiding it anymore, and Rouge always made sure they were stocked up on cocoa.

While waiting for the milk to warm, he glanced at the clock on the wall. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The eerie calm of early hours often made Shadow slightly uncomfortable. Despite his introvert side enjoying the peaceful solitude, it was also a moment where his thoughts would simmer in his mind, either awoken by confuse dreams or simply emerging as the day started. He would often put some music or read a book to avoid thinking too hard about it.

Didn’t always work, though.

Taking a deep breath the hedgehog felt some relief at the sweet scent of chocolate. He took a small sip before moving to roll himself in blankets on the large couch. With a long and noisy yawn he reached for the remote and pointed it at the large TV screen in front of him. Maybe there was something nice to watch while waiting for his roommates to get up.

- - - - -

When Shadow opened his eyes again, sunlight was gently glowing through the translucent curtains of the living room. Which meant it was probably kind of late already. It seemed he fell back asleep at some point.

With a frown, he rubbed his dishevelled quills and took a look at his phone. Almost 11am, and no sign of Rouge or Omega... This was odd, especially since they planned on spending the New Year’s Eve together.

That’s when he noticed an envelope lying on the small coffee table, next to his now empty mug. It was plain kraft, with a small card inside that only offered an address and the words “At noon, don’t be late hun”.

Obviously from Rouge. She loved putting mystery and drama in everything she did. Shadow huffed and shook his head.

Irredeemable.

Did that mean his friends got up without waking him and prepared some kind of surprise? However silly it was, this simple envelope brought some warmth to the hedgehog’s heart. He got up to take a quick shower and prepare for the day, a small smile peeking at the corner of his lips.

- - - - -

The location was one Shadow didn’t particularly recognise, a small intersection in a popular part of the town. Since Team Dark lived in a suburban area and their job at G.U.N was usually all over the world, his knowledge of the city was lacklustre. Right as his phone displayed 12pm a text popped up on the screen.

Rouge Right behind the shoes store, a cafe.

The striped mobian rolled his eyes with a hint of amusement. Even for something as simple as a New Year between friends, the bat couldn’t help making some kind of fun game to play. Shadow would gladly proclaim it futile and childish, but he actually enjoyed these quirky adventures his best friend always peppered in his life.

What he saw next filled him with pure joy. Of course Rouge wouldn’t choose a random cafe to meet. She had to make it extra one way or another, and she just knew how to please him.

The Gentle Garden Chao Café & Flower Shop

Almost giddy at the idea of having some sweets surrounded by chao, the ultimate lifeform stepped into the small establishment. A quick glance around made him happy beyond words: soft muted lights and warm colours complemented vintage furniture, large potted plants adorned all sides of the place, and —most importantly— chao of every kind were all over the place, either walking, being cuddled by clients or sleeping on small pillows.

In the back of the room was a large counter, behind which a massive chalkboard displayed both the cafe menu and prices of various flower arrangements.

Before Shadow could go and talk to the barista, a familiar face caught his attention. Rouge was there, sitting nonchalantly and sipping some drink in the most ostentatious way possible.

The hedgehog smirked and sat in front of her.

“So...?” he started with a raised brow. “So what? Did you think I’d let you stay home for this special day?” Rouge huffed between two exaggerated sips. “It’s just New Year’s Eve, not an anniversary or something...” Shadow said, glancing at the table.

He realised an order of white chocolate cappuccino —his very favourite drink— and forêt noire —one of his favourite sweets— were set in front of him. For a second he felt something rise in his chest. A mix of gratitude and that odd yet pleasing vulnerability he could only feel with his closest friends.

“I know it’s just the new year.” the bat leaned on the table, her eyes both tender and serious. “I also know you haven’t been doing great lately. It’s been a difficult time, and of course it won’t magically be over as midnight comes, but...”

She looked in the distance, her eyes piercing through the windows and their cold winter lighting. Shadow could very clearly feel the bittersweet essence of her expression. This year had also been hard on her.

“We’re in this together, y’know.” she resumed, turning a gentle smile towards him. “And while I can’t resolve every problem we have, I can at least invite my emo bestie to enjoy some chao and indulge in sugary treats!”

The hedgehog chuckled at this, then raised his cappuccino mug. “Let’s have a good time, then. To us bitches.” he said with a knowing grin. “To us bitches!” she exclaimed happily. ”Now drink that ‘ccino, we have chao to cuddle.”

Some laughs and friendly banter later, two chao had found their way on Shadow. One was sleepily nested on his legs while the other was playing on his head, brushing his quills curiously.

“You really have your way with them, just like Omega...” Rouge remarked. She loved the little creatures very much, but she never seemed to attract them as easily as her two partners. No one really knew why and she honestly didn’t mind. It was fun enough to observe them from a distance: no risks of ruined haircut or having one mess with her wings.

“This is the best.” the hedgehog whispered, his voice full of emotion. His friend chuckled. Shadow was endearing in many ways, but his love for plants and creatures was unparalleled in an extremely wholesome way.

“Did you ever consider adopting one?” she asked before biting into her remaining pastry. Shadow’s expression became slightly somber as he looked at her. “I…” he sighed and scratched the sleeping one’s head. “I always wanted to, I guess. Even on the Ark, once we learned about them with Maria, we used to pretend having one. There was a plush, I don’t remember its name. We would play parents, bring it along for walks across the Ark, this kind of things.”

Rouge nodded sympathetically. Maria was less and less a sensitive subject as years went by, but Shadow was still defensive about these memories. Sharing them was one of the most intimate things he would do, and she felt honoured every time it happened.

“Maybe one day.” the hedgehog shrugged with a tired smile. ”Right now our lives are too dangerous. I can’t raise one properly as long as we keep fighting and going on missions Chaos knows where. – Let’s hope we get Eggman and his clique once and for all, then!” Rouge said with a grin. “Can’t wait to have you pester us with photos of your ugly little baby.”

The genuine laugh that followed made the bat beam with happiness.

- - - - -

The very specific atmosphere of New Year’s Eve was not lost to the two mobians as they strolled in the city. Streets were bustling with activity, but in a way that felt distinct from other winter holidays. The ambient anticipation was less frantic, almost… solemn. Instead of rushing for gifts and food, people seemed determined to enjoy the final hours of this year.

Shadow found it interesting, not without its charm. He was more used to strolls in mountains, lonely forests and small paths undulating through fields. The buzzing activity of the city was something else —very nice, though. Plus Rouge knew every neighbourhood surprisingly well, and offered him little fun facts and stories about all sorts of buildings and places.

“It’s a real shame we don’t get more free time between G.U.N and Eggman.” the bat lamented. “There are so many nice spots I’d love to visit with Omega and you. – We do have vacations once in a while.” Shadow replied. “Yeah, but they’re either ruined by some apocalyptic event or by an intense need for rest.” she sighed. “We can’t enjoy the Museum of Arts if we’re falling asleep every two paintings.”

The dark mobian nodded. Technically Omega and him didn’t need a lot of sleep, but being world-saving heroes brought its own kind of mental fatigue. Moments of calm and respite were too few and far between.

“Well. Next time we have some days off we’ll organise a Team Dark afternoon.” Shadow offered. “An exhibit or two, some games at the arcade. Maybe a small concert at a cafe. – Oh my. Hun, I’m impressed to see you take this kind of initiatives.” the bat replied.

The hedgehog gave her a friendly nudge. “Shut up, can’t let you make all the decisions. – I don’t see why not.” Rouge shrugged with a knowing smile.

They suddenly stopped. Without really realising it, the duo had reached the large avenue leading back to their house. As they exchanged a glance, Rouge winked. “Omega must be waiting for us. Let’s move!” she said cheerfully.

- - - - -

An immediate wave of relief filled Shadow as soon as they passed the front door. “Finally some warmth.” he sighed, removing his large coat and thick scarf. “I was expecting your lowered body temperatures.” Omega’s robotic voice answered from the kitchen. “Hot tea and biscuits are ready for immediate consumption. Made with love.”

Rouge snickered and Shadow repressed a chuckle. Both knew Omega was absolutely unable to cook anything without setting fire to it, so the biscuits were probably store-bought. They still appreciated the gesture greatly.

Everyone gathered around the table, remembering stories about the now-ending year and its numerous developments. Adrenaline-filled fights, obscure investigations and exhausting assignments went alongside hilarious mistakes, glorious teamwork… and even celebratory moments with all the other heroes of Mobius.

“Okay, but the award for the best party of the year still goes to Knuckles’ surprise birthday.” Rouge said confidently while helping Omega put on a colourful crochet beanie. “Ughh please. Let’s not talk about it.” Shadow groaned, knowing exactly where this was going. “It was extremely fun. The fireworks accident made it over 200% better than any other celebration.” the robot insisted. “Oh right, I almost forgot about that!” the bat laughed. “Poor Knuckie, having to deal with a fire hazard on his cherished island…”

Memories of the furious echidna shouting frantically brought a grin to Shadow’s face. “But!” Rouge added, ”I mostly remember someone having a few drinks too much and— – NOPE!” the hedgehog exclaimed as he brandished his hands. “No talk of this specific event shall happen in this house. Ever.”

Omega tapped his fingers on the table as he eyed his smaller friend. “It is a shame I did not record it for ulterior viewing.” Shadow’s glare was so intense the former badnik recoiled slightly.

“Oh well, it’s all in the past now.” Rouge mused teasingly. ”Good times, good times...”

- - - - -

The closet was absurdly full of useless trinkets and Shadow was very, very close to “fix” it with a Chaos blast.

Of course he wouldn’t, knowing how preciously Rouge kept all those odd items from her past. Jewels, foreign souvenirs, postcards, old plushies, photographs… All her memorabilia was kept there, in a mismatched mess mixed up with cleaning supplies, spare beddings and various tools.

“They should be somewhere near the bottom!” the bat shouted from across the flat. The hedgehog growled, his eyes desperately scanning the clutter in front of him. Finally he found what he came for.

Fairy lights. The essential accessory to any LRCS —Living Room Camping Session.

Shadow walked back to the main room, where a drying rack and several chairs formed a structure covered by sheets and blankets. Omega was evaluating whether the improvised tent was big enough for him. “It is perfect, Rouge. We will be able to fit within the designated comfy area.” he said before crawling underneath the colourful construction.

The hedgehog carefully hung the string of lights around and inside the tent before plugging it. Rouge grabbed some snacks and scuttled against the large robot, who fiddled with the remote until a title screen showed on the TV.

“Are we really watching this?” Shadow asked hesitantly. “Shadow. We all know your inclination for romance between organic beings. Please come cuddle so we can start the movie.” Omega said. “Don’t tell me you suddenly decided to hate cheesy fiction, sweetie.” Rouge added. “I would rather perish than lose your snarky remarks and teary-eyed spee— – Alright, I get it, I’m coming.” the hedgehog replied with a frown. “This better be good, though.”

It was everything but good. Outbursts of laughter and incredulous stares followed one another as the movie —a romantic parody of the famous blockbuster Attack On Mobius— kept getting more and more absurd. Omega threatened to turn himself off as he struggled to find any reasoning behind what was happening, and Rouge almost choked on her pop-corn near the end of the second part.

When the credits started rolling, the three buddies snuggled together. The winter night cold was no match for a group hug and thick quilts. Shadow eyed his phone and hummed.

“It’s almost midnight. – Does that mean we have to prepare a wish?” Rouge asked in a sleepy voice. “We don’t have to.” the hedgehog replied, glancing at his two friends.

Has to be an odd sight, he thought. A haphazard team with so many differences, united by pure luck in a challenging world. Chilling together in a makeshift tent in the middle of a flat like nothing else mattered. He closed his eyes and took a moment to appreciate the warm feelings. Being surrounded by such amazing souls for whom he really mattered. Knowing all the affection and dedication hidden behind that seemingly cold name, “Team Dark”.

“I wished for a pony.” Both Omega and Shadow looked at their bat friend with tilted heads. “What? They’re cute, I dunno.” she shrugged with a shit-eating grin. “What would you guys wish for? – Dual plasma swords.” the robot replied. “Maybe I should ask Miles when we cross paths again.”

Rouge rolled her eyes, then shouted curse words as she realised midnight was mere seconds away. Omega startled, making the whole tent fall on the team. The striped hedgehog quickly covered his muzzle with his hands, trying to suppress an irresistible laugh. No matter how hard life was, no matter the obstacles in his way, one thing was certain as the year came to an end.

Friendship was all he could wish for.

#sonic the hedgehog #sth #rouge the bat #shadow the hedgehog #e-123 omega #fanfic #team dark

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emmy-writes-sometimes · 4 years

Text

Seeing Green

When your dad forces you to come to a movie premiere with him, you get more hatred than you bargain for.

“Do I have to go?” You groaned, “can’t Grandma be your date again or something?” Your dad shook his head as he struggled to tie his tie in the mirror of his bedroom. It was the Los Angeles premiere of his newest movie, and normally he flew out one of your aunts, Scott, or your grandparents to be his date. But suddenly you were watching him try on a suit that supposedly matched a set of dresses he wanted you to wear because for some reason, he was determined to make a father-daughter date out of it.

“Nope. She didn’t want to fly out last minute since they’re watching your cousins for the weekend already. Go ahead and start getting ready and I’ll leave the dress on your door,” he instructed. You wanted him to believe that the only reason you didn’t want to go was because it was last minute, but that was a bit of an exaggeration. You didn’t want to go because you absolutely dreaded what the world would say. They already looked at you with sympathetic eyes because of who he was, and because of the situation with your lack of a mother. But lately, since you were getting older and couldn’t pull off the cute kid look anymore, things were getting harder. The press was suddenly watching you. If you gained a few pounds and your dad posted a picture of you, they were watching. If you got a bad haircut, they were watching. If you were doing anything except being Chris Evans’s perfect daughter, they were watching you. And you hated it. You just wanted a normal night in with your family, but that was obviously not happening.

“I hate you,” you joked in response. Your dad just chuckled.

“Yeah, I love you too.” You walked away and started getting ready, taking a long, hot shower before doing your hair and makeup. A blue, floor-length dress with flowers on the skirt was hanging on your doorknob by the time you were ready, and to no surprise, it fit perfectly. Your dad had people come measure you every time you grew a single inch just so that you always had clothes that fit properly.

“You look beautiful,” your dad insisted as you walked out of your room, carrying your heels so you wouldn’t have to put them on yet.

“I’m only going if you promise to buy me Fatburger after,” you responded, crossing your arms over the dress. It was pretty, but the chest area was definitely itchy. You much preferred one of your old t-shirts.

“I will buy you all the Fatburger you want,” he chuckled. “Thank you for coming with me.”

“You’re welcome. I guess it looks stupid if you’re alone.”

“I hate going to these things in general, you know that.” That was definitely a lie; he was a people person. He loved any kind of human interaction he could get. And he was fueled by all of the positivity that came out of it. That was another reason you were dreading going – you didn’t want him to know what people were saying about you, even if it took everything in you not to go cry to him about it.

You just didn’t respond – you scrolled through your phone and took a few funny pictures to send to your friends until the car got there. The entire time, your dad was coaching you like he hadn’t made you go through media training when he got you your first phone and let you get social media. You knew who not to engage with. You knew not to wander off unless you were with someone from the theater or from his management. You knew to walk a few feet behind him until he asked you to stand beside him. You knew all of that already. It didn’t stop the anxiety, though, when the car pulled up to the Dolby and you saw the massive crowd. You fiddled with your phone until it was time to put it into the small bag you brought.

“Okay, how do I look?” Your dad joked as he prepared to get out. You just gave him a thumbs-up and watched as he got out first, then came to your side and got you out of the car. You tried to ignore the cameras, sucking in your stomach, trying to stand taller, making sure your hair was on the right side of your shoulder. You watched your dad work the carpet like he was born to do it, which he was. And then he held out a hand and you walked toward him, taking his hand.

“Smile, babe, you look gorgeous,” he insisted. So you did. He walked up to the area where fans were allowed to wait and you stood beside him, watching him sign autograph after autograph.

“Who’s this?” One reporter asked Chris as he signed autographs.

“My daughter, Y/n,” Chris smiled back at her. “Y/n, babe, stand here.” He instructed you to stand closer to him as he started walking again. You could feel the anxiety building up when you saw more reporters, but your dad knew how to get you through it. You grabbed onto his hand and finally followed him into the theater. It wasn’t quiet in there, either, and you could feel yourself going into overload as you got your first social media alerts of the night.

“You okay?” Your dad asked you, squeezing your hand. You nodded. “Alright. I’m gonna go say hi to some people. Seats should be reserved in there so you can go ahead and sit down.” You nodded again and brushed past him, walking into the screening room and sitting down. You opened your phone to see a few headlines containing your handle.

Chris Evans takes daughter Y/N on date to the Dolby!

Chris Evans’s Daughter is All Gown Up!

The first few weren’t particularly terrible. They were just pictures of you that had somehow already made it online. But then you noticed the people were actually mentioning you, and that was where it got bad.

Is he really so desperate to take her? Yikes…

Literally forgot he even had a kid...

If only she wasn’t ugly af

You could feel the tears coming to your eyes and shoved your phone back into your purse, putting it on the ground beside you. The last thing you wanted was for your dad to see any of those, and thankfully he didn’t check Twitter very often.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked as he finally took a seat next to you.

“Yeah,” you lied, “just a little overwhelming.” He put an arm on the back of your seat as you waited for the movie to start. It was a good movie, one of the best he’d been in. At least in your opinion. The role had been really hard on him and he played it so well that you could barely even believe he had been able to come home at the end of the day without it affecting him. But the entire time, your attention kept getting pulled to the messages you had seen earlier. You ended up shaking your leg so much with anxiety that your dad put his hand on it to make it stop, only removing it when you mouthed to him that everything was fine. You were just worried that they would multiply and get worse and worse and worse until it was impossible for them to ignore. You didn’t want him to be ashamed of you, but some twisted part of you thought that maybe the internet could convince him to be.

“I’ll meet you back at the car,” you said as soon as the movie ended. You stood up shakily, grabbing your purse, and only then did you realize how hasty you were being. Your dad, poor guy, was confused as hell.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“I just don’t feel good,” you lied. “I’ll meet you back at the car.”

“Text me when you make it there. I’ll see you in a few minutes.” You felt like you were going to throw up as you walked out of the theater, past the cameras that wouldn’t stop taking worthless pictures of you, and one of the security guards directed you to the car that was waiting to take you and your dad back home.

Made it to the car, you texted him. He responded with a thumbs up, which meant he was too busy to text. Another alert popped up on your phone and, exactly like you were worried about, your mentions were flooded with comments. So many of them were nice – saying you looked just like your dad, saying that you were so pretty, but others were terrible. And those were the ones that got you. They got you so hard that you were sitting in the back of the Tahoe, crying all of your makeup off. You didn’t even realize you were letting it all out until you heard the door open and your dad got in, immediately noticing something was wrong.

“What’s wrong?” He asked. “Are you sick?” He extended a hand to check your forehead, and you just swatted it away.

“People are just fucking mean,” you responded, half frustrated. He must have notice because he didn’t comment on your bad language one bit.

“Give me your phone,” he ordered. You did, unlocking it for him, and he scrolled. He chewed on his lip as he did, looking from your crying figure to the phone and back again. And eventually he just shut it off and put it back on the car’s floor. You didn’t say anything, but you didn’t have to.

“You realize these are people who are just bored, right? They’re bored so they’re picking on you?” He sounded angry, but he played it off well.

“But…”

“They’re just jealous of you, that’s all. They’re being mean because they can, and you’re letting them.” You sniffled a little. His voice softened and so did his face, and he quickly took your hand and squeezed when he realized he wasn’t helping.

“Then why do I feel so bad?”

“Because. You have to stop letting these people get the better of you.”

“But…”

“No buts. Promise me you’ll just stop looking at these? Or at least taking them seriously? I don’t want you to think any of these matter because they don’t. Stop crying over people who don’t even know you.”

“Thanks, I’m cured,” you grumbled. You tried to smile, but another tear fell from your eye.

“They’re just seeing green, honey. They’re just pissed ‘cause they don’t have a cool dad like me.” You laughed this time, letting your dad pull you in for another hug. “Now. Are we still getting dinner, or are you going to let the internet convince you we shouldn’t?”

Hope the person who requested enjoys!! ❤️

#chris evans x daughter!reader #chris evans x teen!reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans fluff

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joshslater · 4 years

Text

Cheat Day

This is a rewrite of a story I read like a year ago and forgot to bookmark in any way. Please sent a note if you know where to find the original... Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

Michael stared at the door. There was still time to back out. To go back home and accuse Tom of cheating. Although Michael was assertive, tough even, he didn’t like confrontation. Not real, emotional confrontation. As soon as he saw the text he knew it wasn’t just another Grindr hookup. He and Tom decided very early on that sex and love were two very different things, and whatever they did to each other in the bedroom would only get better if they had inspiration from other encounters.

Still, looking at the door it felt like cheating. He had been pacing the apartment for minutes in a mix of emotions. Sadness, anger, jealousy, disbelief. He had opened all the hookup apps he had in an impulsive fit of desperately seeking a revenge fuck. A revenge fuck with someone else. It was only minutes later that he had found Jonathan, who appeared as eager as him, nearby, and with a matching profile. Gay bottom who needed a quick fuck.

Now in front of the door he wasn’t at all as sure anymore. Standing someone up wasn’t cool either. At the very least he should say sorry in person. He rung the door.

Almost instantly the door flung open and a revealed a good looking guy a year older than Michael, according to his profile. “Hey, big dude”, he said and placed a long, sloppy kiss on Michael. There wasn’t really any size difference between the two. In fact, apart from their faces they looked pretty much alike. Two skinny guys in their late twenties with a few days shade, similar haircuts and tattooed sleeves that looked the same if you squinted a lot. They even dressed alike, tight jeans and casual, high quality untucked shirt, rolled sleeves and not buttoned all the way up. ”You’re really gonna like this.” he said when he finally peeled away from the kiss. Michael could nothing but agree.

“I’m Michael. I guess I should ask if you are Jonathan, but with that greeting I would be very disappointed if I had to leave.” Jonathan smiled a wry smile. “Trust me, you are not leaving without my permission”, and he placed another slobbering kiss.

“I like your hair. I guess you need something practical with all the gym time you clock. Fits with the whole dumb jock image you’re going for.” If Michael had a dumb look, it was because he had no idea what Jonathan was talking about. He hadn’t been in a gym for months. He could live off donuts and coffee and still not put on any weight, try as he might. Jonathan’s hands were all over him, while he kicked the door shut. “I bet it takes a lot to keep such a muscled body. I bet you meal prep twice a week, eat five times a day, and stay off all processed food, all sweets, all alcohol. That takes some serious dedication.” Oh! Michael could see what he was doing. He was setting up a role playing scene.

“Lifting is life, bro” Michael tried. “There’s my fucking gym bro. It’s all about the gains and looking good naked. That’s why you shave everything below the nose, right? To make the muscles show better.”

Jonathan smiled and kissed Michael deep again, while his hands where all up inside Michael’s shirt. Michael had never shaved anything except for his face, and recently he hadn’t bother with anything but running a trimmer a few times a week.

“It’s time for your post-workout shake, right? Best time while you still have that after sweat glow. I have it ready in the kitchen for you.” “Thanks. Sure is, bro”

Michael couldn’t remember when he last had one. Years ago at least. It was chalky and not at all something he would ever ask for again. He followed Jonathan into the kitchen, and as soon as he entered Jonathan threw a plastic shaker at him. “Catch! Chug it! You’ll love it.”

It tasted like vanilla. Strangely he did like it. Had he even had lunch, or was that forgotten too in the whole text message and cheating business? Something about Jonathan made both his dick and thinking really hard. No other bottom he’d met had ever been so assertive, so in charge. But bottom and sub were different things, and he couldn’t deny that it made him want to fuck his brains out all the more. So when Jonathan led him to the bedroom he was actually worried the amount of pre-cum would show.

“Let’s stop cosplaying and get this shit off you!” Jonathan said and ripped Michael’s shirt open, sending buttons in all directions. “What the hell, bro?” “You know anything with buttons are too inconvenient. You never use them.”

He unbuttoned Michael’s jeans for him. “Get naked and get in bed.” Confused he did as he was told and kicked off his shoes and slid down his jeans and boxers. Not only was his dick and balls slippery and shiny of pre-cum, but all of his body was glistening of sweat in the dim bedroom light. As he stepped out of the pile of clothes he realized he was completely smooth. Not a single hair as far as he could see. It made sense, since he was playing jock and it would make the muscles really pop, but something about it wasn’t right. He reached for the socks, but Jonathan stopped him. “That’s enough! On your back!”

Michael might be playing a dumb jock, but he knew something was terribly wrong. Very slowly he sat down on the bed. His arms looked pathetic. The rest of the body too. But that was just disappointing, not really something to be alarmed about. Jonathan stepped forward, grabbed both his legs and raised them from the floor, forcing Michael on his back.

“Let’s fuck you into shape, shall we?” he said and thrust his dick into Michael’s ass. Michael wasn’t prepared at all for the onslaught and sounded an indiscreet yelp. His brain was going through questions, looking for the right one. Why was he lying down while Jonathan was standing up? And again, a second thrust. Why was he almost naked while Jonathan had only unbuttoned his jeans? A loud belch escaped from him. He could feel his stomach churning. Why was he the one getting fucked and not Jonathan? As the third thrust hit he could feel an ache reverberate through his whole body.

“Tom likes being the big spoon, doesn’t he? He likes that while you are the one bossing him around, he is the bigger one, the one that protects you while you sleep, even though he doesn’t have much muscles.” Wave after wave of pain was flooding Michael. He felt like he really ought to know who Tom was. It was somehow important. Jonathan was fucking him with, deep, slow strokes. “He doesn’t like big, bulky muscles. They gross him out. The upper body is the worst.” Michael wanted the pain to stop. It felt like he was being stretched on a rack. “Big, bouncy pecs that puff up and out the chest. Big delts that makes the shoulders look wide and clumsy. Huge traps that misshapes the top of the shirt. And worst of all, big, bulging biceps that strains the fabric of any normal sleeve, and risk tearing it if you bend your arm. He hates it all.” The pain was ever shifting for Michael. The bone crushing pain mutated into a burning sensation. He let out another long burp. What was Jonathan talking about again? It was so hard to concentrate.

“And legs! Big, thick thighs that makes it impossible for you walk properly and pushes your junk out, so it looks obscene whatever you do. Tom would be disgusted. The massive body and legs makes your average dick look small. Your massive balls just makes it look even smaller. And veins. Big irregular veins snaking up and down the arms and legs, like an erect dick.” Jonathan was pumping furiously now, getting close to climax. Michael’s head was spinning. He was just happy the pain had subdued into a tingling sensation. Then Jonathan just stopped and there was a second of calm where Michael couldn’t think of anything. Then they both exploded, Michael pumping squirts after squirts of warm cum up in the air, while at the same time he could feel Jonathan emptying his load inside of him. Both of them appeared to have limitless supply. Michael felt something else as well, how the body was shifting. It felt like he was moving around, or like the sheet was being pulled from under him.

No, he wasn’t moving. He was growing, he realized. It was as if Jonathan was inflating a balloon with his cum. He himself was emptied his balls all over himself in an uneven smattering of sticky frosting. He realized everything Jonathan had said about Tom was true. He was rapidly turning into the kind of body Tom would laugh at. Mock. Be repulsed by, even. “Please. Please stop. Whatever reason you think you have for doing this, it’s wrong. This is all wrong.” Jonathan raised an eyebrow while shooting a last few shots of cum into Michael.

Jonathan withdrew and stepped back a step, panting and clearly exhausted. “Yeah, this is wrong.” With his dick still out of the jeans he climbed into the bed next to Michael. Michael wanted to shrug back, to get away, but his body just laid there like a sack of whey. Without hesitation Jonathan placed his hands around Michael’s throat and started to squeeze. “No! Please! Don’t kill me! Please, stop doing this.” The pitch of his voice was slowly going up, until the last two words when it crashed down octaves. “Please, just stop”

Michael’s voice was deep, touching on African American, but still somehow youthful. “That’s better. Now, sit up beef boy, I want to show you something.” Jonathan slapped Michael on the shoulder with a wet and meaty thud, got up from the bed, and went to the wardrobes along the wall. Michael sat up in the bed, noting that he was not only more muscled than anyone he knew, but quite a bit taller than before. Jonathan opened one of the wardrobes and revealed a full length mirror mounted on the inside of the door.

Michael didn’t see himself in the mirror. Somehow the sum of the parts made a bigger impact than just seeing and feeling them on their own. He was surprised how young his face looked. Barely twenty, he would guess. It looked utterly wrong on top of that massive body. Young, dumb, and above all immature looking. Like he went to gym instead of high school and juiced his way to his twenties. If you wanted to lab grow the antithesis to what turned Tom on, this would be it. “Why are you doing this?”

Jonathan’s face twisted into a snarl of contempt, took a step back and grabbed Michael’s head between his hands, pressed the palms into his cheeks until the lips parted and forcefully spit a glob of saliva into Michael’s mouth. He then leaned down and made another long kiss. “I’ll tell you, Brad, why I’m fucking doing this.”

Brad? Michael was sitting, slacked jawed looking up at Jonathan. He glanced down, seeing his reflection in the mirror behind Jonathan. For a short moment he expected to see Michael in the mirror, but of course he didn’t. He’s Brad. Anyone can see that. Jonathan stepped in, replacing his view of the mirror with Jonathan’s erect dick.

“Suck it! You love sucking dick more than anything, you cum guzzling bottom slut! You worthless piece of shit. You were never good enough for Tom. He’s supposed to be with me! You never appreciated the way he looked at you, the way he changed to accommodate you, to be part of your life. You’re were too fucking stupid to get that! Now you are too dumb to read a newspaper. Too stupid for any joke that isn’t practical, like pantsing someone in the weight room or squirting bronzer in their butt crack.”

Jonathan still held Brad’s head with both hands, moving it back and forth to forcefully pump his dick down Brad’s throat. Brad wanted to help, to please, but there was very little he could do, beside making gagging noises.

“You don’t remember what Tom looks like anymore. You can’t remember where you met, where you used to eat together, where you lived together. You don’t even think of love or relationships anymore. You can’t plan more than to your next meal prep, fucking loser. Your life only revolves around gym, sports and sex. Those are the only things that matters, the only things you plan for, the only things you talk about.”

Jonathan let go of Brad’s head, and was just standing there panting, dick in mouth. Brad could finally start to take an active part, letting his tongue play over Jonathan’s cock head. He started to slowly suck the dick in long, deliberate motions. Jonathan collected himself, somehow relieved to have revealed his feelings for Tom, and suddenly almost surprised to be in the middle of getting a blowjob. He sounded much calmer as he continued.

“You don’t like how you look naked. You think your dick looks ridiculous and tiny next to your giant balls, so you prefer to always be fucked wearing a jock strap. You try to keep other clothes on, like you are wearing socks now, to take attention away from the jock strap. You try to have sex where and how being partially clothed makes sense. On the bench in the gym. In an alley outside. In the bleachers. In the dugout. And your massive balls are pumping so much hormones into you, you’re horny almost as soon as you’ve cum. You’ll swallow so much jizz you put it in your weekly macros.”

Brad was fully erect again, with a dollop of viscous pre-cum visible at the tip of his cock head. Jonathan was resting a hand on his head.

“Your body is never good enough. There is always more lifting, tanning, running, shaving, bulking or cutting to be done. You always want to look ready for gym, showing off what you got. Wearing bright clothes that makes people look. You want to be noticed, the center of every room you go into. How else can you get the attention to get everyone to fuck you? Loud, happy, clueless, obnoxious.”

With no warning Jonathan came again. Only a few pumps this time. Brad could feel something warm inside of him, but unlike a coffee or cocoa, it quickly spread out into all his body, and up his neck into his head. He let himself fall backwards into the bed, leaving a trailing string of cum and saliva between his lips and Jonathan’s dick, before it broke. His head was spinning. What was he doing here again. He was having sex with someone, wasn’t he? But he was still so fucking horny. In the corner of his eye he watched the guy leave the bedroom. He grabbed his slippery dick and started to masturbate. He needed to cum so badly.

The guy came back into the room with a pile of clothes, and threw it on his sweaty and cum sticky stomach. Brad felt caught and embarrassed and put both hands over his dick.

“Here, get dressed.” “Bro, you need to like fuck me.” “Sorry dude. Not my type.” “Not cool bro. I sucked you.” “Get dressed and I’ll help you find someone.” “How you’ll do that, bro?” “I’ll set up some fuck app accounts for you. I’ll even take pics and write a bio for you.” “Dope. Hurry tho. I’m so fucking horny.”

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agerefandom · 4 years

Text

Books and Pigments

(art by @sparrowinged, story written for @sparrowinged)

Fandom: Critical Role

Characters: Regressor!Caleb, regressor!Jester, featuring Mama!Nott, caregiver!Ford, and the rest of the Mighty Nein in the background (Beau, Yasha, and Molly)

Words: 3,000

Summary: Upstairs, Jester gives Caleb a bath and they both find the process nostalgic. Downstairs, the others discuss ‘somechildren,’ people who never fully grow up. They’re well-known in Wildemount, but much more accepted on the Menagerie Coast.

Content warnings: ‘Little’ is used as an adjective, but not a noun. Caleb’s backstory is briefly alluded to, as is memory loss from trauma. There is drinking (done by adults). Nott is considered a mother and is referred to as such.

Note: I’m only on episode 47, please excuse any backstory gaps!

Nott was the last to join the table, crawling onto a chair and grabbing a drink that was already on the table, downing most of it in one go.

“Nott!” Molly greeted her from the other side of the table, raising his own tankard to her. “Are the others not coming?”

“Jester has insisted on giving Caleb a bath,” Nott said once she was finished with her beer. “I left him in her capable hands.”

“Capable at many things,” Fjord pointed out. “I hope she’s feeling kind this evening, or Caleb may be in trouble.”

“He’ll be fine.” Nott crawled partly onto the table to drag a plate of meat towards herself, tucking some of it into her pockets. “He does have magic, after all.”

“So does Jester,” Beau said from across the table. Nott flapped a hand at her dismissively.

“Caleb is better.”

“Okay, but if the two of them were in a fight,” Beau started, leaning forwards.

“Jester would win,” Yasha finished.

Nott glared at them both, crossing her arms. “You don’t have enough faith in him,” she said reproachfully. “He’s a very powerful wizard!”

“Yeah, but have you seen Jester’s biceps?” Beau asked.

Nott gave up on the battle in the interest of fitting as much ham as possible into her mouth, and the conversation moved onto arm wrestling shortly after that, shifting with the usual chaos of the Mighty Nein’s evenings off.

Meanwhile, upstairs:

Jester was gentler than Caleb had expected, double-checking the temperature of the water and adding another half-bucket before gesturing for Caleb to undress. She hovered around him, snatching his clothes as he removed them and folding them to lie on the bench by the door. Once he was naked, she ushered him towards the washtub.

Sure enough, the water was perfect as Caleb sank into it, not hot enough to scald but warm enough to turn his pale skin rosy as it met the surface.

“Look at your freckles!” Jester cooed, poking Caleb’s shoulders as she bustled around him, preparing the soaps. Caleb hunched forward, self-conscious despite himself. They had all been in the public baths together, and had helped each other with their armour many times. Nevertheless, he was aware of his scars and spots, and didn’t appreciate Jester’s wandering hands.

“Relax,” Jester ordered, as if sensing Caleb’s wandering thoughts. “I am a good girl, I can keep my hands on task.” This was apparently all the warning she deemed necessary before dumping a bucket of lukewarm water over Caleb’s head, plastering his hair over his face until he spat it out of his mouth and tried to push it back.

“Leave it!” Jester’s hands batted Caleb’s away, and she guided him to lean against the edge of the washtub, combing his hair back with sudsy hands. “You’ll just get it more dirty with your stinky fingers.” Caleb was about to protest her wording when she started to dig her fingers into his scalp, and he abruptly found himself melting into the touch. He had not had someone else wash his hair for a very long time, not since far into his childhood. He closed his eyes, although he wasn’t sure if he wanted to chase the memories or push them away. Parts of his childhood had been missing when he’d returned to himself, gaps in his memory that led to disorienting echoes like Jester’s fingers in his hair. Jester’s voice brought him back from the confusion, humming a quiet tune that Caleb did not recognize.

Caleb found himself drifting through the rest of the bath, with Jester’s hands shielding his eyes from the suds she rinsed out of his hair, guiding him from position to position so that she could rub sweet-smelling lotions into his hair, his cheeks, his back. She even washed the bottoms of his feet before smearing a handful of soap into his palm and gesturing for him to finish the rest of his body. Through every motion, her humming got louder, until she was singing little pieces of foreign songs to herself as she brought over the final bucket of water.

The washing water had become quite dirty, and Jester rinsed Caleb’s body with the last fresh water as he stood up from the tub. She wrapped a soft blanket around him and tugged him out of the bath with a giggle. Caleb followed where she led, feeling pleasantly distant and oddly content.

Jester sat him on a stool and started to comb out his hair, making tiny braids as she sang those little snatches of simple but unfamiliar songs.

Jester had been singing for long enough that her speaking voice almost startled Caleb when she put down the comb. “Do you want to take a nap?” She ran her hands through his hair. “Or I could give you a haircut.”

“Nap,” Caleb said quickly. It was the preferable of the two options: Jester had been gentle enough with the comb, but he didn’t want to test their luck with a sharp blade near his ears. “Nap is good.”

“Naps are the best,” Jester corrected, pulling Caleb off the stool and towards the door without sparing a glance at his clothes. “Come on, let’s go!”

“Clothes,” Caleb managed to protest.

“Who needs clothes?”

“Me!” Caleb managed to pull his wrist free of Jester’s grasp and scoop up his abandoned clothes with one arm. His outer layers and everything important were back in his room, but he didn’t want to leave things in the bath room to get taken.

“We’ll get fresh clothes in your room, but I want to nap in my bed,” Jester said, in a tone that invited no challenges. Caleb nodded and followed her down the hallway, watching Jester’s skirts swish as she skipped past each door, her tail bobbing behind her. She stopped outside of Caleb and Nott’s room, gesturing for Caleb to go in and get changed. Caleb wandered into the room, sat down on the bed, and decided that he didn’t want to get up. The warm water of the bath and the gentle washing had made him too sleepy, and there was no way he was budging.

“Caaaaleb,” Jester whined from the doorway. “I want to go to my room!” Caleb ignored her, leaning back on the mattress and wrapping his blanket tighter around him. It was soft and perfect and he wasn’t leaving, no matter how loudly Jester protested. “Caaaaleb!!” Although her voice was rather disturbing the tranquility of the room. “Nap in my room! Get your clothes!”

With a huff, Caleb rolled sideways off the bed and managed to collect a few items of clothing, stumbling towards Jester in the doorway and accepting the hand she had stretched out towards him. She pulled him down the hallway and into the room that the girls shared, shutting the door behind them before jumping at the double bed with an impressive leap and rolling across it in a blur of petticoats and skirts.

“Sleepover, Caleb!” Jester popped back up to sitting, and patted the bed beside her enthusiastically. Caleb wandered over and she pulled him down on the mattress with a little more force than necessary. It was very comfortable, Caleb acknowledged. Maybe even more comfortable than the bed in his room. He wiggled back and forth to get himself properly wrapped up in his blanket, and then let his head rest against the covers of the bed. Jester was arranging herself beside him, wrapping one arm over his swaddled side and pulling him back against her. She was inhumanly warm, impossibly cozy, and as she started to hum a quiet song, Caleb felt his eyes drifting closed.

“Oh, that was nothing, remember the time that she decided to drop a box of manure on that priest of the Allhammer?”

“Classic!”

“Y’all think Jester is a troublemaker now, you should see her when she’s feeling little,” Fjord offered to the discussion. “No one is safe.”

“Jester’s a somechild?” Molly asked, leaning forwards. “I’m surprised I didn’t realize sooner.”

“Oh yeah. She isn’t little often.” Fjord finished his drink and wiggled it in the air for a refill. “Sweetest thing but a handful for anyone. I met her when she was little, actually.”

“Are somechildren more common where you come from?” Nott asked.

“Yeah, the Menagerie Coast is a lot better about them,” Fjord said. “Nicodranas has a whole district dedicated to them, and it’s the loudest part of the city. Empire kids come there all the time for a break, I hear.”

“Most of the Empire’s not big on them,” Beau confirmed. “Never understood why, I think they’re sweet. And it doesn’t stop Jester from being the most badass tiefling I’ve ever met—no offence, Molly.”

“Jester can have the baddest ass as long as I have the sweetest,” Mollymauk laughed. “Also, I bet I could take Jester in a fight.” Beau made a doubtful sound. “What, don’t believe me? I’ll go and get her now, settle it here.”

“Fuck yeah!” Beau sprang to her feet. “I’ll come with you and get her.”

“Two gold on Molly,” Nott muttered to Fjord.

“I’ll take that bet. He’s gonna go easy on her.”

“You clearly don’t know him well enough,” Yasha interjected. “He doesn’t go easy on anyone over the age of fifteen.”

“Either way, I think we’ll be spending our bet money repairing the bar if we don’t convince them to take it outside,” Fjord pointed out, and made to follow the two who’d already left. The others brought their drinks, but trailed obediently up the stairs to watch the outcome.

“They only need to drink every few days, and retrieve much of their hydration from the plant matter they consume.” Jester giggled at Caleb’s fancy words, focused on the drawing that she was working on. “They can eat up to seventy-five stones worth of vegetation in a single day, but do not kill the trees they feed on.”

“They eat stones?” Jester asked, reaching for a different colour.

“Nein!” Caleb laughed. “Die bäume! Leaves!”

“Ohhhh.” Jester added a rock anyways in the grass. “Keep reading!”

“Um… The trees of the area are best known for their wide leaves, and their layered appearance.” Caleb’s voice was different when he was reading, his accent lighter with the care he used in pronouncing each word. Jester looked critically at the tree she had already drawn and was about to start on another one when the door opened.

“Here they are!” Molly’s voice came from behind her.

Jester turned with a smile, putting down the stick of pigment that she had been using to draw. “Hi Molly! Caleb is teaching me about South Marquet! Have you ever seen a giraffe?”

“Can’t say that I have, sweetheart.” Molly leaned himself against the doorframe, all sparkly and pretty. Jester wanted to draw a star on his cheek, but she would have to wait until he was asleep, probably. “Have you?”

“I saw one in a cage once! It looked like this!” Jester showed Molly her drawing.

“Hmm, that’s pretty neat.” Molly came closer to look at it. “You’re a very good artist, Jester.”

“I know I am!” Jester had to lean around Molly’s legs to look at Caleb. He was curled up on the bed with a pile of blankets around him, a big book open on his lap. He’d stopped reading when Molly came in and now he looked like he was trying to hide himself in the blankets. “Caleb, what are you doing?”

Jester received no answer, only a muffled squeak from the pile of blankets. She pushed herself to her feet, ready to go extract her friend from his hiding place, but Fjord walked in the door and she froze, tucking her hands behind her back and puffing out her chest.

Fjord’s gaze travelled over the room before landing on her, and he sighed. “Jester, you know you’re supposed to come and find me when you’re little.”

“I’m not!” Jester protested. “I’m big!”

“Uh-huh. Because I know for a fact that big Jester wouldn’t be very happy to get pigment all over her nice blue dress, and tends to use paper like a big girl, and not draw on the walls of an inn that she’ll have to pay for.” Jester glanced back at her drawing, which was indeed on the wall of the room.

“That was Caleb,” she tried. “I didn’t do it.”

“Oh.” Fjord nodded understandingly. “And did he get pigments on your dress as well?”

“Yep!” Jester bobbed her head. Thank goodness, he was going for it! Maybe Caleb would get in trouble and she would get to watch.

“Alright.” Fjord got really close to her, all unfairly tall and wide and green. “Let me see your hands.” Jester hesitated, but when Fjord put his hands out, palms-up, she obediently put her hands into his. He traced the lines of colour on her palms, showing where she had held the sticks of pigment. “That’s what I thought.” He dropped Jester’s hands and she hunched her shoulders, embarrassed at being caught in the lie. It wasn’t her fault! Fjord was just really smart. That was why he was going to the Academy when they got there!

“You ready to be honest with me?” Jester nodded her head wordlessly. “That’s good. Are you little, Jester?” Jester couldn’t help pouting at the question, but she nodded anyways. “Thank you. And why are you supposed to come and get me when you’re little?”

“Cause it’s dangerous,” Jester sighed. “And I could get hurt.”

“That’s right.” Fjord put a hand on the top of her head, right between her curved horns. “We’re visiting the Empire right now, and they aren’t as friendly as in Nicodranas, so it’s important to stick close.”

“Okay.” She didn’t know why they were visiting the stupid Empire anyways when people in Nicodranas were so much more fun. Stupid Empire. Stupid Fjord.

“Where’s Caleb gone, anyways?”

Jester lifted her head to see that Molly had left the room at some point, and Caleb had effectively hidden himself in the blankets, with only the still-open book poking out from the pile.

“He’s playing hide and seek!” She shook off Fjord’s hand and bounced towards the bed. “Caaaleb, I’m coming to find you!” Caleb stayed quiet, but Jester knew where he was. She pounced on the pile and sure enough it squirmed underneath her, trying to push her off.

“Lass den Quatsch!!” she heard Caleb protesting, and she rolled off with a giggle, helping him remove the blankets. Once Caleb was revealed, he was pouting, his hair a staticky mess from the struggle.

“Found you!” Jester pulled him in for a hug and he allowed it, wrapping his arms back around her. When she finally released him, he wriggled backwards into the blanket pile again, pulling one around his shoulders. Caleb sure liked blankets a lot!

Jester glanced over her shoulder at Fjord, who was watching them curiously without saying anything.

“Do you want to play with us? You can hide next if you want!”

Caleb made a sound like a deflating balloon and flopped forwards, his blanket covering his head.

“Stop that!” Jester pulled him back up to sitting. “You’re not supposed to hide anymore, I found you.” Caleb whined, tugging against Jester’s grasp on his blanket.

“Caleb?” Nott appeared in the doorway as if summoned by the noise, and was pushing Jester away before she could even blink.

“Hey!” Jester protested, trying to get back to Caleb.

“You were hurting him!” Nott accused, standing between them. She was eye-level with Jester like this, with Jester kneeling on the bed, and she looked super mad and scary.

“I wasn’t! He was hiding!”

“Mama?” Caleb’s voice was quiet, but Nott immediately turned to him. “She’s nice.”

“Okay. I believe you.” Nott gave Jester a second look, still not looking very friendly, and then swept Caleb up in a hug, her arms and legs wrapping around his shoulders and torso. Caleb buried his nose in her shoulder, and Jester subsided onto her butt, letting them have their moment.

“Do you want me to send them away?” Nott asked, her voice quiet. Jester was still close enough to hear the question.

Caleb shook his head, and Nott detached from him, lowering her feet to the mattress and keeping one hand on Caleb’s cheek. “Okay.”

“I understand why you were asking about the Menagerie Coast now,” Fjord said from behind them. “Didn’t realize you were a caregiver.”

“Mother,” Nott corrected him, stroking clawed fingers through Caleb’s newly clean and shiny hair. “I did tell you that he was my boy.”

“Right, right.” Fjord nodded. “I’m sorry for intruding, I didn’t know he and Jester were playing together.”

“He was telling me about giraffes!” Jester said, pointing to her art again.

“He’s a very clever boy, isn’t he?” Nott sounded proud. Jester thought she was probably a really good mom. She could tell those kinds of things about people.

“He can read all kinds of books and he doesn’t even sound really funny most of the time when he’s reading!” Jester said. Caleb made a ‘hmph’ sound. “I mean, he doesn’t sound funny at all ever!” she added. “He’s really smart.”

Caleb’s hands reached for the book, pulling it onto his lap and hugging it to his chest.

“Would you read to me again?” Jester asked, scooting forwards on the bed. “I was really enjoying it.”

“Do you want some paper for your illustrations this time?” Fjord asked, already holding it out in her direction.

“Yeah!” Jester stretched her arms out and waited for Fjord to bring it over. “I can make you more pictures!”

“Mm-hm.” Caleb opened the book and spent a few seconds flicking through the pages before settling on one, looking up and waiting for everyone to settle down. Fjord closed the door and took a seat on the floor by the bed once Jester’s paper had been delivered, joining the audience for Caleb’s story. Caleb glanced nervously at him, and then up at Nott standing beside him.

“You are very good at reading,” Nott told him. “But you don’t have to.”

Caleb cleared his throat, put one finger under the line he was reading, and started again. “The trees in the region are best known for their wide leaves and layered appearance.” Jester started on her drawing, all four of them settling in for an unplanned quiet evening.

#critical role agere #agere fanfiction #fandom agere #sfw age regression #sfw agere #agere art #critical role #my writing #cr #cr agere

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snakeboistan · 4 years

Text

The Couple Games

This is going to be my first attempt at crack.

This is inspired by ‘The Great Boyfriend Debate’ by doujinzii. If you’re a Haikyuu!! fan, you should totally check it out because it is a masterpiece that should be displayed in the Louvre.

“YES!” Okajima whooped, pumping two fists in the air as the black and white ball hit the net of the goal. Karma - the student who had scored the goal in the first place - smirked, saluting and winking at the disgruntled crowd of main campus students. It was one of Kunugigaoka Junior High’s sporting events and the sport that the students were currently playing was football (soccer to anyone that’s from America). Of course, as 3-E was seen as the lowest of the low, they weren’t allowed to participate during the main events and were, yet again, pushed to the sidelines and were forced to take part in the ‘Exhibition Match’ against the school’s Football Team where they were expected to be publicly humiliated by experiencing a crushing defeat - all in the name of boosting morale. How fun. However, this year the Chairman’s plan of bringing E Class down was hampered by said class’ teacher, who had more than a few tricks up his sleeve. Days of training and training and more training had prepared the student outcasts for this game of power play and they were more than ready to show the entire school what they were made of. Currently, the boys of E Class were at a tie with the Football Club members, thanks to the goal that they were just celebrating.

“Well done, Karma,” Nagisa smiled at the redhead, who was currently sticking his tongue at the glowering Football Captain, “that was an amazing goal.”

With a grin, Karma turned to face him, “it was, wasn’t it? Why don’t you congratulate me properly?”

Nagisa’s eyes widened as his face reddened. Knowing Karma, there was only one thing that he was thinking of for his ‘congratulations’. He looked away to hide his flaming cheeks, “Karma…”

Karma took a step closer to the blunette, smirking at his embarrassed countenance, “oh come on Nagisa. I worked so hard to score a goal for our class. The least you could do as my boyfriend is to give me a little reward.”

Nagisa’s twin-tails ruffled upwards at the close proximity that the two shared, Karma’s lips were so close to his ear that a millimeter closer would have them touching the skin of its shell, “Ka-Karma. We-we’re in public.”

“Oh, please Nagi~” was purred into his ear, warm breath making the shorter boy shudder and his skin to prickle.

“OI! You two,” both of them looked towards the source of the voice to find Maehara with his arms crossed, looking at them with a mixture of exasperation and fondness as he shook his head at them with a smirk, “care to wait until the game is over before you start flirting?”

“Sorry, Maehara,” Nagisa smiled sheepishly as he pushed Karma away with an extended arm, “I hope we didn’t draw too much attention.”

Karma harrumphed before glomping Nagisa from behind, “don’t be sorry, Nagi. He’s just jealous that I happen to have the best boyfriend ever.”

“Umm, exCUSE ME!” Maehara protested loudly, amber eyes narrowed at the redhead and ignoring the looks that the three of them were getting from other students, “I’ll have you know that you are very much wrong on that, Karma. You do know that I am dating Isogai, right.”

“So what,” Karma retorted flippantly, narrowing his own eyes at the golden-haired boy, “are you saying that Nagisa is not an adorable little blueberry that deserves the world and everything in it?”

“Karma,” Nagisa whispered harshly as he could tell that their conversation was attracting more attention than he was comfortable with.

Maehara waved a hand around, “well yeah sure, Nagisa is cute and all but Isogai is an Ikeman.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean.”

“It means that he’s the better boyfriend.”

Karma scoffed, “how so?”

Maehara used his hands to gesture wildly at said Ikeman, who was watching this all go down with confusion and disbelief, “uhh, have you seen him? I mean those gorgeous eyes and antennae are positively the most captivating things in existence. Not to mention how his smile can cause world peace.”

“No one cares about your stupid hair kink, Maehara. And besides, my Nagisa’s smiles are far more endearing.”

“YOU TAKE THAT BACK!”

“NEVER!”

Isogai approached them with the face of someone who very much hates his own judgement, “guys, we’re in the middle of a-”

“Nagisa is so the better boyfriend. He’s sweet and kind and an amazing kisser.”

“HA! I’ll have you know that Isogai is a far better kisser than anyone could hope to be.”

“Oh, those are fighting words.”

“What are you suggesting? That we have a kissing contest right here, right now?”

“Of course and then you’ll see-”

“BOTH OF YOU, STOP!” Isogai yelled at them in an attempt to stop this trainwreck. Both his and Nagisa’s faces rivaled the colour of Karma’s hair as they watched their boyfriends tear into each other.

“Sorry, Isogai,” Maehara huffed, “but Karma was questioning your ability of being a good boyfriend. It’s my duty to defend you and our title as the best couple.”

“OH THAT’S JUST B*******!”

All of them turned towards the voice that shouted at them, looking on in shock as Kurahashi climbed over the stands and stomped towards them with fire burning in her eyes. She went right up to Maehara and pointed a finger at his face.

“You really think that you’re the best couple?” the orange-haired girl demanded.

“Uhh, duh.”

“Well, you’re wrong. Listen here womaniser (“former womaniser,” Maehara pointed out), Yada and I are the best couple and that’s that.”

“WHAT!” The four boys yelled, Karma and Maehara in indignation and Nagisa and Isogai in incredulity.

“You tell ‘em, babes,” Yada yelled from the side of the pitch. Kurahashi smiled and blew a kiss at her, making her squeal and catch the air in front of her.

Karma, who was still hugging Nagisa, flared up, “Excuse me, what the hell are you saying?”

Maehara glared at the girl in front of him, “Uhh, I think you need to get your facts straight.”

“Yeah, Kurahashi,” Kayano agreed loudly, drawing the attention towards her, “they’re right!”

“What the hell do you mean by that?!” Kurahashi loured at her.

Yada frowned at the resident pudding-lover, “yeah, Kayano. What the hell?”

“I think that they’re right,” Kayano crossed her arms, “you guys are not the best couple. Not when Okuda and I are here.”

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME!”

“Excuse me,” Yada said, “I’ll have you know that Kurahashi is capable of charming anyone she wants to.”

“Yeah, well, my little mad scientist can make a poison that can kill a dragon.”

“Dragons don’t even exist!”

“OH, PLEASE!”

“EVERYONE SHUT UP AND JUST ADMIT THAT MY NAGI-BABY CAN BLOW YOU ALL OUT OF THE WATER. I MEAN HAVE YOU SEEN THE WAY HIS BLOODLUST MAKES HIS EYES GLOW WITH THE DESIRE TO CAUSE HARM! HE’S DANGEROUS AND ADORABLE - THE PERFECT PACKAGE! AND NOTHING CAN COMPARE TO HIS HUGS. NOTHING!”

“SO FRICKIN WHAT?! MY ISOGAI CAN COOK ANYTHING AND HE LOOKS AMAZING IN ANYTHING HE WEARS. HE COULD WALK AROUND IN A POTATO SACK AND STILL LOOK LIKE THE COVER MODEL OF A MAGAZINE! HIS TEXTS TO ME ARE BETTER THAN ANY LOVE LETTER EVER WRITTEN AND IF YOU THINK HUGS ARE SO GREAT THEN YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IT’S LIKE TO HAVE THE PERFECT BOYFRIEND RUN HIS HANDS THROUGH YOUR HAIR WHEN YOU MAKE OUT!”

“BOTH OF YOU ARE WRONG! THERE’S A REASON WHY YADA IS B****-SENSEI’S TOP STUDENT. I MEAN THAT MOUTH!”

“OKUDA CAN MAKE A CHEMICAL BOMB IN FIVE SECONDS WITH HER EYES CLOSED AND TAKE OUT EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU! WHICH I WILL GLADLY MAKE HER DO BECAUSE I AM SICK OF ALL OF YOU STOMPING ON THE TRUTH!”

Nagisa and Isogai could only watch in horror as their class erupted into the Pompeii of Kunugigaoka: Okajima was on the grass, wailing about how it’s so unfair that he’s single and has no one to defend him and Mimura was next to him, curled up in a fetal position and rocking himself back and forth, whispering to himself ‘it’s just a nightmare, it’s just a nightmare’; Sugino was slumped against a stand and was blushing madly; Fuwa and Rio had their phones out and were recording everything that was going on; Okano started rambling about how Kataoka’s front stroke was so graceful that it could put a dolphin to shame; Chiba and Hayami looked at each other before looking away and continued to observe the events unfolding; Yoshida was forced to restrain an angered Maehara who was about to throw himself at Karma; Terasaka and Muramatsu were just staring blankly into space, looking like they were ready to accept the Earth blowing up right now instead of in March; Hazama turned another page of the book she smuggled into the game; Hara tried to calm down the fight that was breaking out between Kayano and Yada; Okuda was still blushing from Kayano’s earlier declaration; Irina looked like her favourite show was on as she was gleefully clapping her hands and watching everything go down (to be honest, she found football dead boring and was very interested when Maehara suggested the kissing contest earlier); Karasuma’s hands seemed to be surgically attached to his face; Koro-Sensei was having the time of his life as he was hurriedly jotting down notes in three different notebooks and taking pictures with two different cameras simultaneously. Meanwhile, as all of this was happening, the Football team stood there awkwardly, having absolutely no clue what on Earth was going on. Araki, who was sitting in the announcer’s box, turned to Asano in bewilderment. The strawberry blonde was watching the bonfire that was E-Class in a mixture of confusion, distaste and fascination.

“Uhh, Asano,” Ren probed, “shouldn’t you do something?”

Asano shot a glance towards his father, noting the way the older man looked as if his feather’s had been ruffled and internally taking delight in the way he too seemed perplexed at the current state of events, “hmm, probably not. This is the most entertaining thing I’ve seen since Seo’s new haircut.”

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redstarwriting · 4 years

Text

Freedom

Avengers x Platonic!GN!Reader

Request: “Avengers x gn! The Avengers learn about the Reader escaping from a metahuman teen detention center (a place where metahuman teens who got kidnapped at a young age) by staging a prison riot. They also learn the r is a powerful magician, so they decide to take their powers away. They soon find the r loves to eat at a one specific restaurant. They soon decide to go in undercover to catch the r but the plan fails and a fight happens. In the end the r loses but joins the Avengers with their powers.”

Word Count: 1,434

Genre: Platonic | Kind of Angsty | The Tiniest Bit of Fluff

Warnings: swearing, kidnapping, fighting, mistreatment, a gun is mentioned

A/N: I hope this is okay! This concept really reminded me of Wanda’s son in the comics Tommy Shepherd (Speed) so along with the powers the reader has in it I decided it only made sense to have Wanda be like a whole mother. I really do love that woman, lol. This was fun to write! I’m sorry it took so long I’ve been Going Through It (that’s the best way I can describe it) but I hope you enjoy it!!

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You smile to yourself the minute you hear the screams. Not long after, the power went out, causing the back-up generators to cast an eerie light in your cell. Then, you heard the click of your door unlocking. “Tch, dumbasses,” you mumble, standing up from your bed and stretching. You walk over to your cell door, gently pushing it open. You were never more grateful for your powers than you were in this moment. Your illusions worked exactly as you had hoped, causing one of your fellow inmates to lose her shit. You knew she had a weak mind and got scared easily, and you also knew that when that happened, her powers went haywire. Her control over electricity was quite the perk.

You look around, seeing all of your peers making their way out of their rooms. “Hey! Get back in your cells!” you hear one of the guards scream at all of you, beginning to aim his gun. That’s when you look at his weapon, using your magic to cause it to explode in his hands. You make sure it doesn’t hurt anyone except him, before screaming, and falling to the ground. You feign that he shot you, and that immediately causes all of the enhanced people around you to jump into action. You snicker. Perfect.

In the chaos, you stand up again, beginning to maneuver your way through everyone. You grin, seeing everyone use their powers to finally stand up and fuck with these guards was quite literally the best thing you’ve ever witnessed. You knew it wouldn’t last forever, though, sadly. Which meant you had to get out immediately. You put your hand against the wall, focusing on manipulating the matter around you. Your powers were… interesting, to say the least. The best way you could describe your powers was the word manipulation. You knew it was more of a sorcery, a kind of magic, but the magic you possessed gave you the ability to manipulate. Whether it be someone’s mind or solid matter. Manipulating is what you did best. With that being said, the wall began to part down the middle, leading you to the next wall which you performed the same trick on. You performed it once more, before light began seeping in.

You immediately ran, not looking back. The brightness of outside hurt your eyes at first, but you didn’t care. You wanted to get as far away from that hell hole as possible. You knew they’d know you got out, and they sure as hell were going to try to get you back in.

Sure enough, the next day on the news your face was plastered everywhere.

You were angry, to put it lightly. You never did anything to be put in that place. You were taken and put in there. All because you had powers. How dare they act like you’re a wanted fugitive for escaping the place that caused you nightmares. You did nothing. Well, nothing outside of those walls. You were quite the troublemaker while you were detained. But that’s because people would try to mess with you, and you’re not one to be messed with. Ever.

Unbeknownst to you, your “bad behavior” was noted, and brought to the attention of the Avengers. They were told you were unpredictable. Too powerful for your own good, the guards said. They made it a point to let the Avengers know that you started this riot and it was a violent plan so only you could escape. Of course, they had no idea how you were treated in there. When Steve asked why you were in there in the first place, the only response he got was, “Their power is too much. If they weren’t contained, they would destroy everything around them.”

“So you want s to return them to you? Keep them contained?” Wanda asks. Your powers fascinated her, after all the same things that were being said about you were similar to what’s been said about her. “Not exactly,” the officer from where you grew up says, causing a questioning look from the Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. “We believe Ms. Maximoff can take their powers away. For good. Then we’d never have to worry about the danger they could inflict upon us.”

“Take their powers away? Because they escaped?”

“No because of how they escaped and how they acted,” the officer throws your file on the table in front of the Avengers. It was thick, and none of what was said about you was good. Although you had a reason to act out the way you did, being kidnapped at an early age and forced into imprisonment, not one of the heroes knew that. They saw you as a threat. A powerful and dangerous one at that, and they agreed to stop you.

And that’s what lead you to where you were now. Sporting a brand-new haircut and color, glasses covering your eyes, and quietly eating at your favorite restaurant. Breaking out seemed so long ago, when it reality it was only around two weeks. As soon as you were certain you weren’t followed, you altered your appearance and found someone to help you change your identity completely. That wasn’t enough to disguise yourself from the Avengers, though. You were already on edge. You felt someone’s eyes on you all day, and when you got to this restaurant, you noticed none of the regulars were here. In fact, there were only about three tables seated. This was odd, it was lunch time, and this was a popular place. Then you noticed everyone there was wearing hats and sunglasses. They were disguising themselves. They found you.

You motion your waitress over, prepared to get the bill early and leave. You didn’t want trouble. You just wanted to be free. Before she gets there, though, you sense someone running up behind you, ready to knock you out most likely. Not today. You whip around, kicking the syringe out of the hand of none other than the Black Widow. That’s when the fight begins. You begin using your powers, manipulating anything and everything you could think of. You even go up against Wanda, one on one. Hers and your power being somewhat similar caused both of you to know what the other was going to attempt to do next. Lucky for her, she had back-up, unlucky for you, you didn’t. She kept you at bay while the others managed to pin you down, defeating you immediately.

You didn’t even realize that you started crying, but you did. These guys were supposed to be heroes! Why were they going after you?! The people in charge of that corrupt facility should have been the ones getting beaten up in a restaurant, not you! You didn’t even know how to properly use your powers because of that place, the fight wasn’t even fair. “Crying? Bad people don’t usually cry after they get defeated,” Iron Man says, his mask popping up. “They’re just a kid, Tony. Of course, they’re going to cry,” Captain America says, and you roll your eyes. “Anyone would cry if they knew their freedom was about to be taken away again,” you say, utter defeat in your tone. “Freedom?”

“Yes! I’ve been in the fucking place all of my life! I didn’t even do anything to get there, they just abducted me because they knew I had powers!” you scream, struggling to get out of the grip of Captain America, but to no avail. You knew you could manipulate his mind to cause him to see something he didn’t want to, but at this point you’d be stupid to do that. Every Avenger was here. For a kid.

“They’re telling the truth,” you hear Wanda say, and the grip on you loosens. You stumble away and get ready to fight again before Wanda puts a hand on your shoulder. “Let us help you. If you tell us about what happened, we can get to the bottom of everything. I know you, believe me. Let me help,” she offers. You look at her hand, then relax. “Where do you want me to start?”

Not long after, the truth about the containment facility reached the public. Needless to say, no one was happy about young mutants being abducted from their families at a young age and locked away because they were gifted. The facility was terminated, everyone in it getting out and reuniting with their families. You were a similar case to them; the only difference is that you found a brand-new family as well. You were now an Avenger.

#avengers x reader #avengers imagine #avengers reader insert #avengers reader #avengers

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ilikecowsnstuff · 4 years

Text

CHAPTER 12!!!

SUMMARY: UA Hero Course - Third Year. Shigaraki Tomura and Dabi have been classmates and rivals since their very first day at UA. But with new feelings developing how will they cope given their history of fragile and often violent encounters? Their dance begins after a partnered training exam goes wrong, leaving Shigaraki wounded and Dabi feeling guilty. AU.

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CHAPTER TWELVE – THE PROBLEM WITH RELATIONSHIPS…

Monday had ended as quickly as it had begun, Tuesday disappeared just the same and in what seemed like a blink of an eye the end of the week had arrived. Shigaraki wasn’t sure how the days had passed by so quickly - wasn’t the age old saying “time flies when you are having fun?” He was not having fun; his week had been miserable - what was the deal?

Sighing, Shigaraki planted his elbow on his desk and dropped his chin into the palm of his hand.

Aizawa was droning on about trigonometric ratios, the thales theorem and fucking right triangles - or something - words that were merging together into something that made absolutely no sense to Shigaraki because he was just staring forward and wondering just how angry Dabi was with him.

Though maybe angry was the wrong word. Disappointed? Yes, probably. Either way, Shigaraki knew he had royally screwed up. Dabi had been giving him the cold shoulder all week and the distance had been eating away at him, dooming Shigaraki into a depressive funk.

“I want to go out with you. Like officially.” Dabi had said - and for once - utterly serious.

Shigaraki shifted his lazy gaze to the front of the room where Dabi sat by the window. He wanted to believe Dabi was kidding. And Shigaraki had wanted him to take it back. But Dabi wanted an answer, and it felt like if Shigaraki couldn’t give him the right one - the answer that he wanted - well it appeared they weren’t going to be friends any longer.

Would everything just go back to the way it was?

Was that what Shigaraki wanted?

No. He hated the idea!

Habitually, he scratched at his neck, like it would give him some sense of comfort. It didn’t, of course. He still felt like the worst person in the world. A complete ass. And a coward - all of which were very likely deserving.

Ugh.

When had their simple, and, often at times, affectionate friendship become so complicated? They were just supposed to get along - to stop fighting and maybe not try to kill each other during training or exams. Now he was contemplating if he could grow the balls to be Dabi’s boyfriend.

Boyfriend. Why was that label so damn scary?

Logically, it was just a word - and it wasn’t really the title that unnerved him but instead the physical aspect that came along with it. What kind of relationship could they have if Shigaraki couldn’t even touch him properly? It’s not like Shigaraki hadn’t thought about it before, he knew that they were headed in that direction, but he was so anxious about hurting Dabi that he automatically pushed even just the idea of a relationship aside.

Until now. Now, he was actually considering what he was prepared to do. He couldn’t deny that Dabi’s absence in his day-to-day life hadn’t affected him, but could he make that one big important step? Years of dissociation and reservation were not easy habits to break but, he had to start somewhere, right?

With a groan, he closed his eyes and then brought his face down to the desk. Aizawa was going on about fractions or altitudes or some shit now. Shigaraki was trying to suffocate himself with his class notes and the fold of his arm. Maybe some unconsciousness would bring him some clarity.

He almost succeeded in his asphyxiation when Kurogiri kicked him in the shin.

Shigaraki looked up with a scowl, glaring at his best friend.

“Stop sleeping.” He said with a snicker.

“Shut up.” Shigaraki mumbled in return.

“Do you ever think that maybe if you actually slept at night you wouldn’t be so pissy during the day?”

Shigaraki wasn’t going to dignify that with an answer. Kurogiri knew that insomnia was just another part of his sparkling personality. It couldn’t be helped - and it wasn’t like he chose it to be like that, he just never could sleep for consecutive hours. Not, for as long as he could remember anyway.

He lowered his chin back against his folded arms and resumed staring at the back of Dabi’s head, wondering if he could convince the other boy to talk to him - to give Shigaraki a chance to explain his… misgivings.

The bell rang interrupting Shigaraki’s thoughts, and then Mr. Aizawa was yelling at the more eager students who were already getting up from their desk, reminding them of the homework due after the weekend. And, of course, the consequences of not handing it on time.

Of their little trio, Kurogiri was the first to get up and then Kai.

“So, what are we doing tonight?” Kuorgiri asked, slinging his bag over his shoulders.

Shigaraki wasn’t paying attention, he was too preoccupied with trying to track Dabi as everyone rushed to leave the classroom and get their Friday nights started. He hadn’t heard a word Kurogiri said.

“Please tell me it’s not another video game night.”

Kai chuckled and appropriately began to chatter in response. Blah, blah, blah. Again, Shigaraki wasn’t listening.

“I’ll ah… I'll meet up with you guys later. I’ve got… some things.” Shigaraki chewed on his lower lip, distractedly grabbing his bag and sliding out of the desk.

“What things?” Kurogiri questioned, curious.

“Things.” Shigaraki added, and then he was walking absently towards the door.

The classroom emptied out and Shigaraki turned out into the hall, searching for just one student among many. That particular someone just so happened to knock him in the shoulder.

“Careful, Mop Head.”

Dabi loomed, reaching out one hand to prevent Shigaraki from toppling off balance.

Shigaraki flushed uncomfortably, looking up at the slightly taller boy expectantly - but Dabi only offered him a quick apology for almost knocking him over, and then continued walking, following the flow of students down the hall.

What the fuck?

Shigaraki was momentarily stunned, so much so that he froze on the spot. He swallowed with difficulty, and then spun around, staring at the back of Dabi’s retreating figure. He really wasn;t going to talk to him!

“Hey!” He called out, jogging to catch up to Dabi. “Wait.” Shigaraki pleaded and when he was within grabbing distance, he carefully seized Dabi’s forearm, willing him to stop. “Please don’t ignore me.”

Dabi slowly turned.

Almost toe-to-toe, he looked down at Shigaraki, smiling affably before lifting his hand to brush the light hair away from Shigaraki’s eyes - just like he always did.

“You really need a haircut.” His fingertips brushed Shigaraki’s cheek, then swept along his jawline before his hand fell away.

“That’s it?” Shigaraki said, dismayed. He breathed in and Dabi waited, clearly expecting an explanation or an apology or some reason why Shigaraki was holding him up from whatever Friday night plans he had.

“Look. I’m sorry about earlier this week and how I… reacted.”

Dabi didn’t say anything, watching Shigaraki with what seemed to be an equal amount of hope and regret. Shigaraki could only assume Dabi had a similarly rough week.

“I was just… I got a little freaked out. But I’ve had a chance to think about it now.”

Still no response.

“I feel really fucking shitty you know.” He admitted, falling back to lean against a row of lockers and pushing his fingers roughly back through his hair.

“I do too.” Dabi admitted. “You don’t have to feel guilty, Shigaraki. I get it.”

“No, you don’t get it. If you understood why I reacted the way I did then you wouldn’t have ignored me all week.” Shigaraki replied shaking his head. “I should have explained. I didn’t say anything because I couldn’t think straight at the time. But all week I've been thinking about it and feeling like a complete idiot.”

“You are an idiot.” Dabi drawled, lip twitching. Shigaraki couldn’t help smiling back, appreciative of Dabi’s smart mouth - even during a difficult conversation. It made it a lot easier for him.

“But I think, maybe, I was being a bit unreasonable. I put you on the spot and in my mind, I already knew how I wanted it to play out. When it didn’t go as I planned, well, I got pretty bummed out. I shouldn’t have ignored you.”

Shigaraki half grinned.

“You’re not scared of anything, are you?” He said softly, almost whispering it to himself, and then shook his head. That’s not really what he meant but he was going with it. “I mean, you’re so much braver than I am. I wish… I want to be more like that - to be able to do things without worrying about…” Shigaraki paused and his chin dropped. He turned his hands over, so he could look down at his cursed palms. “It would be so much easier if I wasn’t so fucking afraid.”

“What are you afraid of?” Dabi asked, head tilting slightly.

“Of hurting someone.” Shigaraki swallowed and then raised his head, adding, “Of hurting you.”

“Do you think that’s really going to happen?”

Shigaraki nodded his head and stuffed his hands deep into the pouch pocket of his hoodie. He was absolutely convinced that as soon as he got too comfortable something would go wrong, something terrible would happen. It wasn’t like it hadn’t happened before. Even to that day, he sometimes destroyed things that he didn’t mean to. Just the other night, when he had finally been able to fall asleep, he relaxed his hand for only a moment and almost decayed one of the pillows on his bed.

“I know you would never hurt me. Not on purpose.”

“Well, I don’t want to accidently do it either.” Shigaraki stressed, attempting a shaky smile. He was incredibly relieved that Dabi still had some faith in him - all things considered, even if he lacked the same faith in himself.

“And to think, just a couple of months ago you wouldn’t have hesitated.” Dabi chuckled low. “Daily threats of death were not uncommon. I kind of got used to it.”

Shigaraki scoffed. “Shut up.” He joked, glancing away and then back again. Dabi was watching him intently, “They were empty threats.”

He nodded with a knowing grin, “I know.”

For a moment both boys went quiet, silently regarding the other – more optimistic but still unsure.

Shigaraki was the first to speak again.

“Dabi?”

“Yeah?”

Now that Shigaraki had gotten some of his worries off his chest and out into the open he was feeling a lot more confident. And encouraged. Dabi hadn’t flinched, none of the things Shigaraki had explained seemed to bother or discourage him.

“Do you still want to go ou-“

Wrapped up in their own little world, both boys startled at the sound of a door being forcefully pushed open and then slamming shut – interrupting their “moment”. They reeled back at the voice that followed, Dabi exceptionally rattled.

“Toya!”

This was no ordinary voice - it didn’t come from a student or from one of the faculty members. No, this commanding presence was not someone you expected to hear or see in the halls of UA High.

This was Endeavor! This was Dabi’s Father!

Holy shit. What was Endeavor doing at UA?

“Fuck me.” Dabi audibly sighed and stepped away from Shigaraki, crossing his arms defiantly over his chest.

Shigaraki immediately flicked his hood up over his head, glad to have the cover to hide his face behind as Endeavor stomped towards them.

He glanced over at Dabi before returning his wary gaze back to the number two Hero. Shigaraki had never met the man in person, just seen him from afar, but up this close - well Shigaraki immediately understood why he had a reputation of being so formidable. Endeavor was extremely tall, and sturdily built - his biceps alone were probably thicker than Shigaraki’s entire body.

“Hello, Father.” Dabi greeted as he approached.

“You were supposed to be outside five minutes ago.” Endeavor grumbled, shifting his steely blue eyes briefly over to Shigaraki.

“Yeah. It’s just five minutes.” Dabi replied snidely.

“Get moving. Your brother is already outside waiting in the car.” He continued to walk, heading in the wrong direction of the great outdoors, and the entrance he had just come through. Shigaraki could only assume he was going to visit the teachers while he was on school grounds. Seemed likely. He was very familiar with the school and the faculty.

“Yes, Father.” Dabi chirped, rolling his eyes.

Shigaraki smiled tentatively and then lowered his lashes - unsure what to do from this point. He still had some things he wanted to talk to Dabi about, and more importantly something he needed to ask him, but it sounded like Dabi had somewhere he had to be.

“I have to go.”

“Are you coming back to the dorms tonight?”

Dabi sighed again, like the brief interaction with his dad had exhausted him. “Regrettably, no. My mother wanted to have a family… thing tonight. For my birthday.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry. I know we were kinda in the middle of… something. But hey, I’ll see you at the party tomorrow, right? We can talk.”

Out of habit Shigaraki scrunched up his nose. Admittedly, he had almost forgotten about Dabi’s party - what with all the turmoil surrounding the week. He felt like he had lost so much time. Where had the days even gone? The party had been the farthest thing on his mind. Or maybe he had simply forced himself to forget about it.

“I should be there.”

“Good.” He grinned and then stepped into Shigaraki, curling his fingers beneath his chin and angling his face up for a kiss – but not before a subtle glance down the hall to ensure Endeavor was not paying them any attention. Their lips lightly met before that same voice interrupted them for a second time.

“Oh, fuck.” Dabi groaned. Shigaraki made a small sound in protest.

“Toya. Let’s go.” Endeavor called out. Dabi still had a very healthy level of respect for his dad and slowly started to back away, though he did so reluctantly.

“I’m coming.” He replied, and then muttered under his breath, still staring at Shigaraki. “Sorry.”

“You should probably go, I don’t really feel like getting yelled at by Endeavor today for making you late to your… thing.”

Dabi snickered. “So, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Shigaraki nodded and watched as Dabi walked off, sullen, following his dad and leaving Shigaraki to his racing thoughts.

====================

Chapter One – Accidental Attraction

Chapter Two – After Care

Chapter Three – Dazed and Confused

Chapter Four – I Like You

Chapter Five - Friends and Enemies

Chapter Six - Confrontation!

Chapter Seven - Transfer Student

Chapter Eight - A Period of Learning

Chapter Nine - Work and Play

Chapter Ten - Friday

Chapter Eleven - Extraordinary Day

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sunshine-pup-fics · 5 years

Text

T R A I N I N G // Aizawa Kid Reader

Requested by Anon: I don’t know if this is too specific, but could you write a little fic where Reader is Aizawa Sensei’s Son (looks exactly like him except Reader actually takes care of himself no dry eye, shaved, brushes hair the works) and is nice and because of that Class 1-A doesn’t realize that he’s Sensei’s son. Until that is when they move into the dorm and Reader has a really rough night (and doesn’t take care of himself) the reactions of the girl’s because let’s be honest they would find him attractive.

Heyo! Thanks for requesting this, it was something different and I enjoyed it! SO sorry it took so long, and I hope you enjoy it! I didn't end up using the dorms, and it is a little short, but I hope you like it none-the-less!

“Dad, breakfast is on the table!” (Y/n) hollered, placing the steaming plate of scrambled eggs and bacon onto the table. He slid into his seat and waited for his dad to haul his ass out of bed. He ran his hands through his hair, which was longer than most but was neatly combed and styled. Said Father eventually did emerge, looking as tired and dishevelled as ever. Aizawa slumped into his seat, coffee in hand as he stared blankly ahead of him. “You should really shave. Or let me cut your hair.” The black haired boy stifled a laugh as Aizawa shot a glare at him.

“Watch it, Mister. I’m not only your dad but your teacher as well. And maybe you should look less bright-eyed.” The boy hummed, leaning his head on his palm. “You know you can’t be biased. There’s nothing you can do.” He grinned as Aizawa sighed, slumping back in his chair, taking a sip of his coffee. “Well, I’m going to head off. Sero wants to walk to school together.” He got up from the table, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Bye, dad!” He shot a wave over his shoulder before disappearing out the door. “Dude hurry up, we’re going to be late!” Sero chimed, placing his hands in (Y/n)s back, pushing him forward up the hill. “We’ll be fine! I’ve never been late and I’m not about to start now!” The two boys continued their treck, laughing and chatting, even joining Kaminari on the way. They reached their classroom, glancing at each other as they slid the huge door open. Seemed most kids were already present, seated in their spots. Aizawa was nowhere to be seen. “See, told you we’d make it in time.” (Y/n) grinned, heading for his seat. “You’ve got some kind of luck, (Y/n). No matter when you leave you always seem to get here before Aiawa.” Sero whined, taking his seat. “Maybe you just need a better sleep schedule, Hanta.” (Y/n) shot back. ‘Though it does help when you physically leave the same starting place before your teacher... Dad could definitely beat me to school though, I’m sure.’ A few more students trickled in, taking their seats as they idly chatting amongst themselves, awaiting their homeroom teacher. Though speak of the devil, and he shall arrive.

Aizawa meandered into class, eyes surveying the class. Of course, his gaze lingered on (Y/n) for a fraction of a second more, and those who paid close enough attention could perhaps see the corners of his mouth tug up just the slightest bit, but he quickly moved on.

“Alright, let’s hurry up and get today’s news over and done with so I can take a nap”. He glanced down at the paper on his desk, before looking back at his students. “They’ll be a serious mock battle on Monday to test your skills and improvement. So considering it’s Friday, use the weekend to your advantage and train.” There was a flurry of hushed comments from the students, traded worried glances as they thought of how their homeroom teacher treated them in their first quirk assessment. (Y/n)” raised his hand. Aizawa nodded at him. “We won’t be punished with expulsion, will we?” He asked, a smug grin plastered on his face. Aizawa hardened his glare, but simply clicked his tongue. “Sadly, there will be no such repercussions if you do poorly. That doesn't give you a reason to slack off in training, however. I expect you all to train hard.” And so train (Y/n) did. He knew the seriousness of the assessment. He’d done research on the U.A curriculum, and not to mention his dad had been talking to the other teachers about it for weeks.

It’d felt a little bit like cheating, but he asked Aizawa to help him with some specialised training. He only left spare time to eat, sleep and the occasional moment of recreation. Finally, Monday morning rolled around, and (Y/n) realised that maybe he had overdone it. He barely even glanced at himself as he prepared for school, grabbing his breakfast and heading out the door with a shout over his shoulder. He dragged himself up the hill to U.A, rubbing his eyes as the wind seemed to dry out them out with every breeze. As he paced toward the classroom, he realised he’d left later than usual, no doubt his dad had left only a few minutes after him. Maybe that luck Sero had mentioned actually worked.

He took a deep breath, hauling the large door open. The loud chatter seemed to ring in his head and he let out a heavy sigh. The class seemed to go quiet. “Did you get a bad haircut Sensei?” Mina called out. (Y/n) furrowed his brows, taking a quick glance behind him before realising Mina had been talking to him. He ran his hand over the bottom of his face and was met with the prickly feeling of stubble. Of course, he’d forgotten to shave and fix his hair. And no doubt he had bags under his eyes. And after keeping his appearance so nice for so long too. “You should learn to keep your thoughts to yourself, Mina.” He mumbled. He hurried into the classroom, taking his seat. It was silent, the noise of his chair scraping against the ground was deafening. “WAIT IS THAT YOU (Y/N)!?” He sighed as the class was sent into an uproar. Ignoring his rowdy classmates he began trying his best to fix his hair. “Are you serious! He looks so much like Aizawa-Sensei!” “He kinda looks... hot... right?” “He looks so mature.” “Is he some kind of secret love child or something?” The class was again silenced as their actual homeroom teacher strode through the door. He paused when he noticed all the students gazes on him, all wide-eyed and mouths agape. He glanced toward (Y/n), who was resting his head on his palm. He nodded vaguely at his father.

Aizawa sighed, running his hand over his face. “I’m surprised it took you all so long. I should mark you all down for being so unobservant.” He continued to his desk. The class remained still. “Alright, I hope you all trained properly over the weekend. The first student to undergo their analysis will be Aizawa (Y/n).”

“WHAAAAAAAAAAAAA-“

#aizawa sensei #mha #mha aizawa #x reader #my hero academia #bnha #boko no hero academia #aizawa shouta #bnha aizawa

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