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wonysugar · 1 day

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close the door | hanni pham

synopsis : you had no idea what you were doing, and neither did she.

genre : fluffy smut!

pairing : non-idol!hanni x gf!femreader

tags : they’re in love your honor, lots of kissing and making out, cuddling, l-bombs, top!femreader, bottom!hanni, they’re both virgins, fingering, clit play, nipple play, neck kissing, hanni’s dogs are mentioned twice lawl, lots of comfort, lots of consent! they’re literally just lovey dovey girlfriends having sex for the first time aheheh

warnings : none :]

word count : 2.5k

a/n : if you’re rereading this and thinking “hey the synopsis changed and there wasn’t an author’s note before!!” well you’d be right I POSTED THIS IN A RUSH I’M SO SORRYYFKEJF

anyways!! this is just to say that this fic is inspired by the lovely writer that is sorry for tagging you twice ahh @facefullofsadness’s fic right over here :] sooo GO READ THAT FIRST! it’s truly lovely and i really enjoyed reading it, hence why i wrote thisskfke. thank you for readingg<33

oh how you loved your girlfriend.

you would die for your girlfriend, actually, even if you only started dating barely a few months ago. who could blame you? that’s what happens when you’ve been best friends prior to your relationship for so, so, so long. it simply started with a ‘hi! my name’s hanni! what’s yours?’ from her part at the innocent age of seven and just like that, years later, you guys were still inseparable.

so really, your life-long friendship and months-long relationship were both with the same gorgeous and outgoing girl, and the only thing distinguishing those two was the label you used to describe them.

“bro i genuinely don’t understand why he doesn’t just… run away. cause— get this, there’s obviously a murderer in his house right? and what does he decide to do about that? just stay in there. like, okay.. like i’m aware they needed plot but lord, i don’t know at least make it somewhat realistic you know what i mean—“ was what your girlfriend said, on her bed as she sat down in between your legs and leaned her back against you, her head facing forward and resting on your shoulder.

you simply nodded along to her words as you played with her hair, trying your hardest to stay focused on the piece of media before you whilst also paying your utmost attention to her, despite her constant ranting and criticizing of the entire movie. you, having originally liked the film, were now conflicted about your opinion on it. it’s not like she was wrong, her very heavy criticism had to have come from somewhere, after all, but you couldn’t help but slightly appreciate the storyline. so, you weren’t really sure what you felt about it anymore.

one thing you were certain of, however,

was that your girlfriend looked really good while passionately rambling. like, way too good. she had tied her dark hair into a high ponytail, it also looked wavy due to the rain that was pouring on you guys earlier, her messy bangs fell perfectly onto her forehead. and her smile? it always looked perfect. she always looked perfect.

and since you apparently weren’t hiding your admiration well enough, she very quickly noticed it.

she giggled teasingly. her voice sweet like honey, her australian accent more prominent than usual, she spoke up, “hello?” before full-on laughing, “were you even listening to me?”

you could only kiss her, that seemed like the only appropriate response in the heat of the moment. she, of course, kissed back just as lovingly before pulling away moments after, a curious and confused look on her face.

“no seriously, what is up with you?” she kept teasing, smiling stupidly as she kept her gaze lingering on yours for the following seconds, her eyes unconsciously drifting to your lips. “you look stupid.”

“and you look really pretty.” was what you whispered back to her, earning a shy smile and an exaggerated eye roll from her. immediately, you made your lips come into contact with hers again. it felt as if the world would stop spinning if you didn’t, like a slowly growing urge to keep touching her suddenly came over you and you needed to fill it.

“so.. so pretty.” you mumbled, so quietly that it was almost to yourself, before going back in. you allowed yourself to make the kiss deeper and slid her tongue across her soft lips as you demanded entrance. you could hear her let out slight noises, she clearly was not expecting you to do anything of the sorts, at least not right now. she was a tad bit confused, but let you in, who in their right mind would pass up the opportunity to kiss their girlfriend? immediately, your hands wrapped around her waist whilst you continued kissing her lovingly, your tongue roaming every part of her mouth.

it didn’t take long before your hands started naturally reaching under her top, caressing on her tummy and progressively going higher with each sound she let out.

you pulled away, slightly worried of going too far, “c-can.. can i continue, hanni?”

you were scared, terrified, even! despite knowing each other for years, you’d only been dating for a few months; those are two completely different things! it’s not like you see your completely platonic best friend’s naked body every tuesday. even then, despite dating, you still haven’t gotten that stage of the relationship. and on top of that,

the two of you were a proper pair of virgins. you had no idea what you were doing, and neither did she. you didn’t want to seem like an inexperienced loser to her, you wanted to take care of her and make her feel good. what if that didn’t happen? what if you made it awkward between the two of you?? it was nerve-racking.

as if barging into your mind and reading your thoughts, wanting to reassure you, she grabbed your hand in a gentle manner before nodding. then, she spoke up, “can you close the door?”

“there’s.. nobody home, though?”

she giggled, “oh i know, it’s just that i don’t want the dogs to potentially walk in on this.”

you groaned dramatically, laughing and insisting that you were too lazy to get up and that her dogs wouldn’t understand the situation if they even walked in. she, in response, just tapped your knee with a cheeky smile, encouraging you to stand up.

“come on y/n, close the door. think about milly and mia; think about their innocence!” she exaggerated.

after playfully hitting her arm and laughing along with her, you got up, proceeded to close and lock the door like she asked you to and eventually walked back to her bed, sitting back on it and positioning yourself the way you originally were, her back to you again.

“happy?” you asked in a fake arrogant tone.

she hummed, radiant, “yes, very happy.” before turning her head just right and kissing you again.

eventually back to the original rhythm of the kiss, you placed your hands back on her stomach again, slowly caressing and teasing higher and higher with time. once you reached her bra, you proceeded to impatiently unhook it, immediately taking it off of her.

her breathing got heavier with each second that passed, partially due to nervousness, probably. you’d be lying if you said that wasn’t the case for you too. the more your hands carefully roamed her body, the more self-conscious you got, you truly had no idea what you were doing.

then, as if something in your mind clicked, you had an idea. what if you just did to her whatever you enjoyed doing to yourself in moments like these? that could work.. right? maybe??

you glided your hand upwards, your finger lightly grazing her nipple. in response to the sudden movement, a lewd sound accidentally escaped from her pretty lips, her breath hitching. that sound was a small moan.

a small one, barely audible, yet it was still enough for you to feel the activation of every single neuron residing in your brain.

then suddenly, it’s like the concept of making love to her wasn’t as nerve-racking as it originally was.

“s-sorry..” she apologized, seeming slightly embarrassed.

you kissed her cheek, reassuring her, “don’t apologize, i wanna hear you.”

despite it being an accident, she seemed to enjoy the sensation of your hand on her chest, so you went back to teasing her tits and gently groping them before you eventually asked, “is it okay if i go further..?”

nodding in a keen manner, she swallowed her saliva, then breathed out her response, “yes. yes keep— keep going. please.”

well shit! even if you wanted to stop, it’s not like you could, not with how good she sounded pleading for you.

not wasting any more time, you proceeded to separate one of your hands from her chest and quickly slid it downwards; to the band of her sweatpants. now, of course, your other hand was still in its original place, working its magic, but you wanted her to feel more. so much more.

you wanted to convey every surge of affection you violently felt for her into pleasure. and, if there was one thing you surely knew how to do, it was kissing her.

so, you started kissing on her neck, which she didn’t expect whatsoever, and still heavily concentrated on the hand you had on her breast. then, you pulled on the sleeve of her tee just enough to expose her shoulder and moved your mouth towards it, nipping and gently licking it.

your hand now fully slipped into her pants, you teased her entrance through the fabric of her underwear as you kept kissing her naked shoulder. you listened to her attentively and took mental notes of her reactions; so far, her breathing got heavier, her thighs slightly clenched around your hand and she was now frequently biting her lip.

plus, her panties were wet.

did all of that mean you were doing good? …perhaps it did!

and did her drenched underwear make you short circuit? perhaps it did as well!

“d-d’you feel okay?” you asked, before going back to slowly kissing her shoulder. she threw you a quick glance, chest heaving up and down.

“s-so okay.” she giggled.

her smile being contagious, you found yourself doing the exact same thing, content with the answer she gave you.

soon enough, you traced your finger up her clothed slit before eventually sliding it into the undergarment she wore, making her shudder. after what felt like an eternity, you could feel her slick coat your digits from one swipe of the finger.

it was tantalizing.

growing impatient, you quickly yet carefully settled your middle and ring finger on her swollen clit, making slow circular motions on it, looking at her in the process. full on whimpering, this time, she stared back at you, no longer embarrassed. she wanted to let you know how good you were making her feel, hence why she was getting louder with each movement you made, and it filled you with enough confidence and adrenaline to gently push her head towards you, leaning in for a kiss.

thankfully, she kissed you back, deeply at that, her eyes closed and her quiet moans muffled.

you pulled away after a few moments, “tell me if it hurts, okay?” you reminded her. she simply nodded, brain all fuzzy from arousal.

she grabbed your other hand and intertwined her fingers with yours. “g-go slowly.” she whispered.

“i will.” you affirmed.

slowly and gently, you slid your fingers into her core, making sure not to go too fast or too rough. thankfully, the wetness was making it easier for you, and probably for her as well. every time that your girlfriend’s breath hitched, that her hand gripped harder on yours or, hell, every time that her eyes closed, you stopped in your tracks and double checked to see if you were hurting her, so it took a little while for your digits to fully penetrate her.

fortunately, she assured you that you weren’t, in fact, hurting her. some moments just felt more comfortable than others, is all.

once they were fully in, you gave her time to get used to the feeling, still double checking on her state every now and then. after a few deep breaths, she nodded.

“i-i’m ready.”

you started to pump your fingers in and out of her, taking in all of her as your speed slowly increased as time went on. naturally, as more time passed, you felt the urge to make her feel good get even stronger.

that’s when you decided to increase the pace, your fingers curling on just the right spot inside her, pumping faster and faster as your thumb played with her clit.

“is this okay baby—” you asked.

“f-fuck— yes y/n that feels good—“ was what she moaned out, cutting you off. a feeling of bliss progressively and clearly overtaking her whole body.

when you tried to look at her despite only being able to see her side profile, you could’ve sworn you saw an angel. her cheeks were slightly tinted with a pinkish color and her eyebrows were upturned, her whole face contorted with pleasure, her skin glistening with sweat. her eyes hooded with lust, hanni looked down at herself and attentively watched as you played with her. your fingers swimming in her slick, navigating in her folds the way a skilled sailor would the vast ocean, it was hypnotizing, and she realized how this was probably the way you got yourself off on a regular day, and she couldn’t help but moan at both the thought and the sensation.

you made her feel good, you made her feel happy, loved. you always did.

amidst the chaos that was her messy bed, the setting somehow looked better than every piece of artwork you’d ever seen combined. the bed creaked ever so slightly, and she looked and sounded so beautiful, especially with the way the sun set directly on her parted lips at that moment.

you were certain that your heart skipped a beat at the sight.

“i love you so much, hanni.” you softly said, kissing the back of her ear whilst you kept fingering her. she couldn’t form proper words, so she simply tightened her grip on your hand more, as a way to say it back.

then, once you picked up a stable pace for a few minutes, her back arched against you, her breathing getting heavier, practically panting. her hand’s grip on yours getting tighter, you felt her hot breath hit your neck once she settled her head into the crook of it.

“y/n— baby i think i’m- i’m— mmh—“

that was the moment she reached climax, letting out a long and loud moan as she rode out her orgasm, bucking her hips against your hand before smashing her lips onto yours. quietly, she let a few i love yous slip out of her mouth between kisses, her hand resting on your head, fingers intertwined with your soft hair.

you particularly made sure to say it back to her every time.

you pulled out your fingers and took your hand out of her pants. still coming down from her high, she smiled at you with tired eyes and kissed your cheek. you smiled back, looking at her lovingly.

“d-did i do okay?”

she giggled, “..are you seriously asking me that? do you not see me right now?”

you raised your eyebrows, playful, “for all i know you were faking it.”

“yeah, actually.. i was faking it, especially with how wet i was from the whole thing. aren’t i such a good actor y/n? it’s almost like i legitimately came really hard—”

“shut up.” you elbowed her, laughing. she gave you a cheeky smile before she got up from the bed, grabbed a pair of new underwear from her drawer and opened the bedroom door, heading straight towards the living room to pet her dogs.

“hey y/n?”

“hm?”

“wanna bake brownies in a bit?”

“uhm.. yes? what kind of question is that?? let me just go wash my hands first.” you replied, getting up and walking towards the bathroom before adding on, “unless you wanna eat very unsanitary cum-buttered brownies, of course—“

you heard her contagious laugh from across the hallway, making you smile to yourself, “you’re fucking disgusting— go wash your hands, you weirdo!”

oh how you loved your girlfriend.

#smut #kpop gg #hanni pham newjeans #hanni newjeans #newjeans smut #hanni pham #hanni pham x female reader #hanni x reader #hanni x fem reader #hanni pham x fem reader #hanni smut #newjeans hanni #female reader #kpop gg smut #kpop girlgroups

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sykosugu · 3 days

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♤♢ on the run ♧♡ | four

♤ summary: she's an infamous bank robber, and he's the only detective that's been able to get close to her. he was never apart of her plans. but he's got his clutches in her and she can't let go.a geto suguru au

♢ warnings: this story will contain descriptions of violence, destructive behavior, toxic behavior, illegal activities, sexual content, death. use of weapons. forbidden romance

♧ aw: violence, guns used, minor character death, blood mentioned

♡ currently: on going | no posting schedule

♤ taglist: open! just let me know

♢ wc: 1.9k (its short I know)

♧ carlile speaks: hi my babies. this one's a shortie, but the drama has come to a head. I hope you all enjoy. only one more chapter for our pair here! thank you all so much for coming along with me so far on this journey. it's been a wild ride and I can't wait to show you what else I have in store! <3 and lastly thank you to my love Nici for finding the amazing fanart up there. If anyone knows who made it pls let me know! Check out Nici’s story Symptoms & Causes!

♡: previous part | you are here | next part

“Surprised to see me, sweetheart?” the man before you asks. Standing in an all black suit with all black accessories. Dark pink hair spiked; face and neck tattoos fully on display.

“He’s alone. He never goes anywhere alone unless he’s dealing with a problem,” runs through your head.

“What are you doing here?” leaves your lips in a whisper. He doesn’t satisfy you with an answer, just a smile. Such a smug asshole. Always had to be the one to control everything, including conversations.

“Where were you and your new.. friend heading off to?” he finally speaks again, nodding his chin near the bags on the floor; his voice surprisingly calm compared to the look of rage behind his eyes.

“We–uh, we were actually coming to you.” you stutter a little, his questioning of Suguru throwing you off guard. “How did he know about Suguru?”

“Oh, were you now?” he asks, sauntering in a little further into the suite until he stands opposite you at the island, leaning against it with both hands.

“I–I need your help,” you admit softly, playing with your hands in your lap. He had a way of making you feel small with just a few words and a look. You were dead set on never wanting to see his face again, but he was the one to ask if you needed help disappearing. When you told him you were leaving, he’d told you that you could disappear without warning if you wanted to, you declined his offer at the time; wanting to exasperate as many banks in the area as you could; in the end, making him look foolish because his teams weren’t the ones taking the scores anymore; it was a one woman show.

“You want my help after what you did to me? You left me. You made a fool of me, and left. The king and queen are supposed to rule together, not apart,” he sneers. “You left me and made a bed with the enemy. A cop?! Are you actually that dumb?!”

“It wasn’t like that!” you yell back at him. “Not at first. I was using him for protection. I fell for him along the way.”

“Such a stupid girl,” Sukuna growls. “You think I couldn't have protected you?” “No, you would have kept me prisoner”, you think to yourself.--”Ah, but–,”

Sukuna wanted to keep you in a cage. He knew you were great at your job; but he didn't want to chance you getting the notoriety that he had. The king and queen are supposed to rule together, but the King is supposed to do all the grunt work. In his eyes at least. He wanted to keep you locked away in the Casino Penthouse where you could have your little shopping sprees, have your airheaded friends come over; whatever you wanted. As long as it wasn’t what you actually wanted. You wanted the chaos. You thrived with a gun tucked under your belt. The thrill of it all was what you wanted.

You loved Sukuna, or at least you thought you did. Sukuna could provide the life you wanted; lavish and luxury. You wanted for nothing. Anything you mentioned wanting, it was in your room the following morning in every color possible. It was his way of keeping you occupied so you wouldn't ask about a job. You itched for a job, but the parties and your “friends” kept you at bay.

Until you heard a conversation you weren't supposed to hear. “Of course she’s more than qualified, but I don't want her anywhere near the jobs anymore. I can train anyone to be like her so she can keep my bed warm every night,” you heard sukuna roar with laughter into the phone as it lay tucked between his ear and his shoulder as he typed away on his computer.

He knew you were good but wanted you away from the jobs for what? Because you were a good fuck? That’s when your plan started. You found one job you knew would make him proud and did it yourself, without backup.

Was he proud? Absolutely. But did he show it? Absolutely not. He showed anger. Irritation. “How dare you make a fool of me, doing this without any kind of backup. Have you no mind?” He roared at you. Making you feel small. It was his specialty.

“I wanted you to see how qualified I am.” You try to protest, but you’re met with a slap across the right side of your face as you fall to the floor.

“I know how qualified you are. If I wanted you on jobs, you would be,” he offers you a hand to help you off the floor. “Now, go back to being the pretty housewife I know you can be.”

And that’s when your plan really went into motion. The bank, done. Now you just needed the perfect moment to come clean, telling Sukuna of your plans to leave, knowing he’d hear none of it and dismiss you, just as you planned. But when he stopped you on your way out, he asked if this was what you really wanted, to leave. You said it was, so he let you go. Offering his help to make you disappear permanently but you’d declined at the time. You wanted some notoriety before you disappeared. You wanted what he kept from you. Wanted what was owed to you.

But now here you are, making beds and playing house with the actual enemy; law enforcement. He couldn’t let that slide.

–”Ah, but if you hadn’t left me in the first place, you wouldn’t have needed his protection,” sukuna says under his breath.

“What do you mean?” you ask a little too quickly, almost embarrassingly fast.

“Sweetheart, who exactly do you think is the one that’s after you right now?” Sukuna tilts his head to the side.

“T-Toji.”

“Mm, not quite. How would Toji know what to tell an assailant on how to find you at the bank yesterday? Why would Toji care about your treasonous act? Toji knows of my plans, but does not exactly agree with them. But he’s sworn to secrecy. I know how.. friendly you two were.”

Toji was supposed to be your best friend. He was the only one of Sukuna’s business partners that was always nice to you. He’d been your friend long before you became the red queen; long before you’d joined Sukuna and had been operating on your own. Toji was your ally before he was Sukuna’s. So to hear of his betrayal like this has your heart in shambles even more than when you thought Toji was the one behind this.

As your thoughts begin to take you hostage, you notice the door start to creak open. Sukuna is fast on his feet, pulling his gun from the holster across his chest, quickly firing a shot into the door. The person behind the door groans, falling forward into the wood making it fly open. You meet Suguru’s eyes as he falls into the room; his eyes look panicked.

“Well, that solves one problem,” Sukuna says before pointing his gun at you now.

Satoru bursts into the room, taking Sukuna off guard. Satoru lunges towards, fighting Sukuna for his gun. You survey the scene as safe to move, so you rush to Suguru's side, making sure he’s still with you. Suguru grins at you as you look at him with sad, teary eyes. Begging him to stay with you. “Why are you laughing?” you ask him, panicked. Suguru pulls his dress shirt from its tucked position in his dress pants as he reveals the bulletproof vest he doesn't leave without these days.

“Can never be too safe,” he whispers out.

“So you weren’t hit?” you ask, tears flowing from your eyes.

“Nah, just had the wind knocked out of me,” he forces out a laugh.

“Stay here for just one more second,” you grab his gun from his holster, standing quickly and ducking behind the counter. You poke your head around the corner, to see Sukuna’s back towards to, and satoru in front of him, as they fight for the gun in Sukuna’s grip.

Standing up, you take aim pointing directly at Sukuna’s back, and take the shot. He howls in pain, falling to his knees on the floor. “You bitch,” he roars out. “You metaphorically stab me in the back, and now this?”

“I don’t like unfinished business,” you seethe out, shooting him again execution style; his blood splattering on your front as his body falls lifeless on the floor.. Satoru just watches with widened eyes as you drop to the floor next to Suguru as if nothing just happened.

“Swear you’re not hit?” you pull his shirt open, surveying the area.

“Promise,” he winks at you.

“I was prepared to bring you back to life just so I could kill you again.” you slap his chest, “Don’t you ever scare me like that again.” Scolding him felt right; the look in his eyes when his knees hit the floor took your breath away as much as the bullet to his chest took his away.

“Swear i won’t get shot by your psycho ex again,” he holds his right hand up as he speaks, “Mostly because you just killed him.” he attempts to chuckle, but it turns into a coughing fit.

“Sugu, he was the one after me, not Toji.” tears begin to form in your eyes as you help suguru to his feet.

“So what does this mean?” he asks, leaning his weight into the island, taking his gun back from your extended hold.

“It means our plan just changed. I want revenge.” you wipe the tears from your eyes, looking over at Sukuna’s body on the floor.

“What kind of revenge?”

Satoru clears his throat in the corner, pulling both of your attention to him in the middle of the room. “So I was right?” he smirks.

“Of course you were right. You’re always fuckin right, Satoru. Why do you think i was so pissed you were put on the case with me?” Suguru turns and faces his friend, and colleague. “You gonna turn me in now? There is a right answer by the way.” Suguru pushes you behind him as he talks to Satoru.

“Oh, Is there?” Satoru asks, reaching for his gun, leaving it in his hand at his side.

“Indeed.”

“And what would that be?”

Suguru cocks his gun in response, “I’ll let you decide that,” he raises it slowly, pointing it at the man in front of him. “You won’t take her from me.”

“You’re playing a very dangerous game here, Detective Geto,” Satoru grins, “You won’t shoot me.”

You emerge from behind Satoru, your gun pointed directly at his head. “No, but I will.” Forever the ninja.

“Woah now, let's all calm down here,” he raises both hands up slowly. “Nobody has to shoot anybody. Except that guy, you already shot that guy.” he attempts to make the situation lighter.

“Twice.”

“Right, twice, how could I forget. I’ll help you with whatever you need, just make sure I get home to my girlfriend, Nici, afterwards, alright?”

“Right, I should believe that why?” Suguru questions.

“I did mention my girlfriend, right?”

“So, you’ll help us?” you lower your gun, still keeping it pointed in his general direction

“So long as I never see either of your faces around here again, I’ll help you.”

“Well, that’s all a part of our plan anyways.” you tuck your gun back into your waistband, taking a stand with Suguru at the island. “And now i have a new plan,”

“Well, let me hear it,” Satoru joins the two of you at the island.

♡ tags: @celestie0 @lostfracturess @carlacujo @alwaysfreakingout @shervinss @jaelahh @gojolvrr34 @shesplendl @phoenix-eclipses @nanasukii28 @mylifetold @bakuhoethotski @4y3sh4 @whereflowerswenttodie @drakenswifeyy

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olderthannetfic · 11 hours

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I always see people who have never been antis, talking about/questioning how some antis even ARE antis when you look at their taste in media - ie the ever famous joke of "Hannigram is #problematique" "but it's a show where he eats people" or whatever.

I thought I'd weigh in as someone who could, hypothetically, be called an ex-anti (which, thankfully, nothing ever really came out of it - it was just very 2014 keyboardwarrior-esque behavior of me being a chronically online young adult who would share posts in a group chat making fun of certain shippers, or reblog posts about how 50shades is The Most Problematic Media Ever to exist -- basically I was an anti with anti-lines of thoughts, but i never, like, a ran a Shipping Discourse Blog or whatever)

For me, personally, it was a few different things. I can now see how it's incredibly hypocritical that teenaged me shipped Light/L, while still thinking that Dramione was Bad And Abusive. It ultimately boiled down to a) being pretentious, and b) just not understanding media or what proshippers REALLY believed, with a side of c) not realizing that nuance exists. like i was pretty late to join tumblr, I think I immigrated here during PEAK "yourfaveisproblematic" era which definitely did have an impact on my opinions and my tastes.

to elaborate, a.) being pretentious. i mean this one just kinda goes without saying. "I engage in media in a way more intellectual way than you do, don't you know that? You're a filthy and disgusting person who writes Snape/Hermione because you're an actually disgusting pedophile IRL who would probably date your own student that you're abusing if you could. Meanwhile, I'm a very smart, good, and pure person. When I read Uncle Vernon/Harry, I'm doing it in a G-d honoring whump way that clearly condemns abuse, incest, and rape. Unlike YOU who only writes harmful stuff as a way to get people off :/"

(as an aside, i think this line of thinking will ALWAYS be present in fandom and popculture in some way, sadly. ie the recent trend of people hating on booktok bc the books are 'trashy' and how these porn addicts should read real classic literature instead.)

as for b.), not understanding media - i cannot emphasize enough that i was GENUINELY stupid and disconnected enough to think that proshippers REALLY WERE pro-All Of The Degenerate Dead Doves That They Wrote.

why did i feel this way? why did i understand that Lolita clearly isnt pro-pedophilia, but for some reason i thought that someone shipping weecest was? well, first of all, i think that fanfiction is (generally) seen as Less Serious than classic literature, and fandom is a fun place, so i guess i somehow thought that every fanfic/fanartist who wrote Problematic Things, especially Problematic Things that they portrayed as Sexy, really DID enjoy the thought of that Actually Happening To Real People.

and i think THIS is the bulk of why antis ARE antis. i'm not calling them all stupid - i do think BEING an anti is stupid, but at the same time, there are people who are truly smart and good-intended people who just have some really off color opinions about, like, homestuck ships or whatever. Lawlight is okay because notebooks that kill people don't exist so it's IMPOSSIBLE for the Harmful Aspects of Light/L to be romanticized! but schoolyard prejudiced bullies DO exist and are a REAL problem so Drarry is BAD (*truly completely unaware of the fact that there's 'realistic' aspects of the Light/L dynamic and 'unrealistic' aspects of Drarry - such as, for example, Hogwarts arguably being even MORE of a fantasy setting than DN is.*) I know that media literacy is the hot buzzword of the year to throw around in 2024, but, like, i really did not have media literacy.

as for c.), not realizing nuance exists - ok "nuance" might not be the best word here, but i dont know how else to describe it. like, each time ive typed the word "problematic" out in this ask, i've done so in a very tongue in cheek/ironic/retroactive way, but, like, those posts about how Everything Is Problematic, Including Your Fave ARE true. and i didn't like the fact that my favorite media or favorite person might've Made A Mistake! i need to Talk About Its Issues Because I'm So Betrayed That My Dear Sweet Comfort Media Would Do This To Me. I Need To Prove I Clearly Condemn It.

like, i legit morally could not justify reblogging a twilight post without adding in the tags '#this is my guilty pleasure it sucks that the books were so racist though' or whatever. Most people were lucky enough to avoid that line of thinking, but there was an actual group of people who felt a genuine need to virtue signal all the time, partly bc, hey, they WERE passionate about talking abt #issues in media, but also bc of a subconscious fear of If You Reblog A Singular Piece Of Hetalia Fanart, You're Literally A Nazi And Will Get A Callout Post Written About You.

and during all of this i was at the tail end of my high school experience (yes i know im younger than most of your audience, ha). i was going through A Lot emotionally, going through a lot of life changes, and lived in a very . . . interesting household/place where i couldn't do ACTUAL good in the world that i was passionate about. so to make up for the fact that i was genuinely in no place to do legit activism, clearly i had to save the gay community by arguing about johnlock queerbaiting or whatever.

^ and honestly i do think that is the position of most antis. theyre isolated and cant seem to do Enough in the Real Scary World so they have to resort to talking about how bad of a person someone is for "shipping abuse", bc theyre not in a situation where they could, for example, ACTUALLY fight the good fight to end abuse or raise awareness for it.

There was way more to it and way more that I could say, if I wanted to, but this post is long enough as it is and probably doesn't make much sense.

I feel bad for antis, honestly, or at least the ones who are antis in the way I used to be.

Oh yes, passionate young fools who think they can at least fix the internet if not their lives make up most of the cannon fodder. Some of the ringleaders are just mini dictators and wannabe cult leaders, but most anti-leaning types are just traumatized or clueless, even a lot of the ones who do serious damage and don't just mock shit in private with their friends.

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steviewashere · 9 hours

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If Found, Return to Me

Rating: General CW: Implied Sex (Mild), Mild Panic Attacks Tags: Post Canon, Post Season 4, Established Relationship, Humor and Hijinks, Eddie Munson is a Little Shit, Steve Harrington is a Little Shit, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Panic Attacks, Dork Eddie Munson, Dork Steve Harrington, 3+1

Okay, the idea was going to be a 5+1, but I couldn't get past three ideas without feeling the crawl of burn-out, so I lowered it to three. But this is based on This Post from @apomaro-mellow

👕—————👕 1. He grips the hem of his shirt and tugs. Chin tucked into his neck so that he can read the text, which is bold and black and dark on the white background. ‘If found, return to Steve.’ Eddie groans. “Do we seriously have to wear these?” He whines.

Steve stands in front of him. Hands on his hips. One foot cocked. “Yes, Eddie,” he answers emphatically. Even a little annoyed. Which, sue Eddie for having to ask over and over, but it’s sort of embarrassing. Especially when his boyfriend is wearing a similar shirt that just reads: ‘I’m Steve’. Makes Eddie look sort of childish, if you were to ask him. “If I’m taking you out of town, to a place I’ve never been before for a convention—something I’d probably never even go to—you absolutely have to wear that shirt. Knowing you, you’ll see some action figure stand and I’ll be abandoned by the comic books.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Or, y’know, we can just link arms and walk around the convention center?” Steve only widens his eyes and raises an eyebrow. He groans again. “Okay, fine! We’ll wear these stupid t-shirts.” His head tilts back, eyes to the ceiling of their hotel. Huffs through his nose. “I don’t even know how you got these,” he grumbles, “I’d rather not know.”

Sure, Eddie’s prone to running off. He gets excited, okay? Especially when it’s something he knows a lot about, or something he’s been hunting down for literal years, or if it’s a thing he can surprise the people around him with. Thinking of the last time he wandered off and Steve had to practically scruff him, it’d been while he was purchasing a dice set for Dustin’s birthday. So maybe Steve has a point. And maybe it’s sort of a genius idea. Eddie just wants to be stubborn about this, it’d save him the humiliation.

Except, he’s still wearing the shirt (Steve in his matching one) when they finally get through the doors of the convention center. There’s people in costumes all around them: Spock and Kirk, Marty McFly, Indiana Jones, Predator, and a few kids with their dads all dressed like those ponies that Erica likes. Something in Eddie trills. And he’s already a few steps ahead of Steve before he knows it. Steve trails behind him, wonder and awe shining in his own eyes, trying to keep up with Eddie’s frantic nature.

But then they’re not even close to each other. They buy lunch a couple hours in. Steve gets a large lemonade and downs it like he’s never had something to drink before. And then Eddie’s being told, “Please wait here by the bathrooms. Don’t go do anything stupid.”

He’s leaning against the wall that reads: ‘Restrooms’. Arms intertwined over his chest. Legs crossed on one another. In the distance, his eyes lock onto a Dungeons & Dragons booth. There’s tall shelves stocked with every mini figure he could ever pray for. A few long tables that showcase various maps, dungeon master screens, and little trays for dice. However, there’s an odd rack in the booth. A hat stand. And on it, he spots the perfect thing for Steve. It’s probably expensive, Eddie debates with himself, but it’s Indiana Jones’ hat. His feet are moving before he registers the people walking past him.

And then he’s there. Holding a classic fedora hat between his hands. Turning it around in his hold. Thumbing at the material; marveling at how smooth and buttery soft the fabric is. He spots the price tag, ‘$8.00’. It’s not a terrible price. Isn’t damaged in any way. So he keeps it in his left hand, grabs a paladin mini figure in his right, and purchases both items. Bag in hand, he moves to leave the booth, but is stopped by a gentle hand tapping on his right shoulder.

He turns and is met with a girl. She’s level with his chest, eyes wide and calculating, hand retreating back to her side. “Hi—um—you don’t know me at all, but I found somebody named Steve looking for you,” she states, “I saw your shirt and figured you were the guy he was talking about.”

Eddie slumps. A part of him can’t believe the stupid shirt even worked. “Yeah, it’s probably me that he’s looking for,” he sighs. “Take me to him.”

She’s hard to follow in the crowd of people. Shorter than most and extremely quick. But she links his arm with hers and practically drags him back towards the bathrooms. And there he is, Steve Harrington with his hands on his hips, a furrow to his brow, mouth thin-lined. “Eddie,” Steve greets. He smiles, though it’s not all that sweet, but kind enough for this stranger that had to shepherd Eddie. The girl leaves them. And Steve steps closer to Eddie, crosses his arms over his chest, and then has the gall to snort. He raises a hand and plucks at Eddie’s t-shirt, directly on the word: ‘Found’. “Looks like my stupid t-shirt worked,” he snarks. The sass to this guy is unbelievable.

“Yeah, har har, laugh it up,” Eddie says dryly. “Maybe you don’t want the little gift I got for you.”

Steve perks up. Eyes glowing with curiosity. “What’d you get?”

Eddie rolls his eyes and smirks. Digs into his bag and flaunts the hat. “Saw it at a D&D booth, surprisingly. Probably would’ve been something we walked by, had I not…wandered.” He steps a little closer into Steve’s space, sets the hat on top of his head, and nods in approval. “Think that this purchase was a success. You look dashing, Mr. Jones.”

In a flurry of movement, Steve snatches the hat from off the top of his head. Gaping at it. “Eds,” he breathes, “this is so fucking cool.” He places it back where it was, pulling it tight to his hairline, and grins brightly. “Thank you, but also please don’t leave me alone here,” he says, “I got worried.”

“Sorry,” Eddie murmurs sheepishly. “Just thought about how excited you’d be about the hat and couldn’t resist. Won’t happen again, promise.”

Steve chuckles. “I know it will, but that’s what the stupid shirts are for. Anyway…Can we go look at the Lego set-up that we passed by in hall E? I think I saw a spaceship and—“

“Lead the way, Indy.” He might have to buy his own shirts with how Steve bounds away from him.

——— 2. “If…Lost?!” Eddie exclaims. “Steve, what the fuck? Why—How—Where the hell are you getting these t-shirts?” He asks. They’re at Steve’s house, getting ready for a day trip in Chicago. And, sure, Eddie’s never been in his life. Doesn’t know the streets of Chicago like the back of his hand. Maybe Steve does know more about where they’re going, but that doesn’t change just how ridiculous this shirt is. How it glares at him in the bathroom mirror.

Steve sidles up next to him. His t-shirt the same as the one from the convention. He wraps an arm around Eddie’s waist. Rests his head on his shoulder. “I have my ways,” he states ominously. “And, again, I know you. Your sense of direction is practically non-existent. You can’t deny that, baby. The only reason you found Skull Rock is because you stumbled upon it.”

“I was on the run, couldn’t exactly look at a map,” he grumbles. “But do we have to—“

“Yes,” Steve sighs. “Now, can you come out to the car with me? I’m ready to go.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, but does as he’s asked. Sits in the passenger seat. Shuffles through the radio stations. Teases Steve for his taste in tapes. But then they’re parking, getting out, walking around the city.

He follows Steve…for a while. Into a record shop. In the back of a diner, playing footsie under the table. Then he goes down a side street. Following a guy in a white t-shirt, hair high on his head, Adidas sneakers on his feet. However, the guy turns slightly. And…that’s not Steve. Eddie’s not sure how long he’s been following this stranger, or when he started, or from where he started from. Tries to rake through his brain to the last time he heard Steve talk about the street they were originally on, but there’s nothing. The words and names escape him.

He’s stranded in a city he’s never been to. Down a street he should’ve never come across. Wearing the most humiliating t-shirt known to mankind. Somewhere, again he’s not sure, behind him Steve is probably standing by some shop entrance, hands on his hips and a scowl perfectly framed on his face. And Eddie can’t help but panic. Standing with his back against the nearest wall. Breathing through his mouth like he’s about to beef it on the sidewalk. Eyes darting over and under and left and right. Trying to find semblance of normal, any little speckle of Steve. Something.

It’s not until he’s nearly sick to his stomach, churning and flipping and knotting, that a different stranger makes their presence known. They gently invade his space. Voice soft as they notice his panic. “Hey man, are you Eddie?” They ask. He nods way too quick, but sidelines the blur to his vision because talking to this stranger seems hopeful. Especially since they know his name. “Okay, cool,” the stranger mutters, “I ran into your…friend. Steve was on the verge of a nervous breakdown when I spotted him, said he couldn’t find you, but didn’t know where to look. So I volunteered to find you. And—well—judging by your shirt, I can gladly and safely reunite you guys. If you…If you wanna follow me.”

“Please,” Eddie murmurs, “I don’t know where I am.”

The trip back to Steve is arduous. Through crowds of people and past noisy cars. Bustling shops and the waft of various seasonings from a number of restaurants. But sure enough, Steve is on some precipice. His hair a mess and face pinched nervously. Then, he spots Eddie. Eyes lighting, clearing and glistening. A look of ‘I want to touch, but know I can’t.’

When he sidles up next to Steve after the stranger leaves, he carefully joins their hands. “I followed a complete stranger for probably thirty minutes,” Eddie admits, whispering. “His hair looked similar. And he was also wearing a white t-shirt. I got so scared, Steve.”

“Well, at least our stupid shirts worked again, right?” Steve asks, breathless and still verging breakdown.

Eddie squeezes their hands. “Can we go home, please? This is gonna sound crazy, but I think I prefer middle of nowhere Hawkins. At least I know where everything is.”

Steve nods rapidly. “I need to touch you in ways I can’t right now. Let’s go.” And then he tugs their hands, pulling them along sidewalks and through groups of people, down a couple side streets. It’s partially worth it, in the end. Definitely with the way Eddie’s skin is now decorated with Steve’s love, sticky and warm with it, too.

——— 3. The shirts end up following them to the Indiana State Fair.

Steve stops them at the front entrance, right after the ticket booth, and makes Eddie face him. “Listen to me,” he murmurs, voice low and near demanding. “If I turn my back for a second and you are gone, I will lose my absolute shit. Got it? Do not make me have to keep a rope tied to your belt loop.”

Eddie groans. “I get it, Steve. Can we at least try and enjoy ourselves?”

And they do for the most part. Steve plays at a few game stalls. Eddie carries the prizes. Their legs interlock underneath a picnic table, sharing greasy funnel cake and way too sour lemonade freezes. They watch a few performers, pet some fair animals, judge prized pigs like they know what they’re doing.

But then the ferris wheel comes up and Eddie sees an opportunity already forming. Like dots connecting or the stars aligning. He wants to drag Steve through the line and sit with him in one of the seats, wait for the wheel to stop at just the right height, and kiss him as the lights dim low and the darkness of the sky envelops them. Though, because he always misses a few steps in his plans, he doesn’t tell Steve that they’re going to the ferris wheel. Just starts walking. Shoving past other couples and accidentally sidelining a couple kids. He sneaks around large families. Maybe bribes a few people to let up on the ride’s queue.

Then, Eddie turns to his left. Where Steve is.

Or…Where Steve should have been.

“Shit,” Eddie spits. “Steve?” He calls over his shoulder. Frantically, he whips around in line. Eyes wide over people’s heads. Shoving them out of the way, albeit a little rough. Spreads the line into two little rows. But he comes up unsuccessful.

Until, right on cue, a stranger is tapping on his shoulder. Instead of letting them go into their whole spiel, he just sighs defeated, “Take me to him.”

There are no words exchanged. Not when Eddie follows behind, head bowed to the ground, dragging his feet like a petulant child. And then he stops where he sees Steve’s shoes, the bright blue Adidas sneakers he’d recognize anywhere.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “Thought you were with me.”

Steve just sighs. Something kind of disappointed that shrivels Eddie slightly. “Where’d you even go?” Steve calmly asks.

Eddie finally looks to him, his eyes pleading. “The ferris wheel, but…But! In my defense, I thought you were with me. And I was going to get us a seat on the ride. Was gonna wait until it got up to the highest point and do something cheesy like kiss you…or blow you, whatever. But I—“

“Why didn’t you just ask me, Eds?” Steve laughs with his full body, deep from within his stomach. “We can do that, babe. All you gotta do is ask, y’know?”

“I didn’t think—“

“I know you didn’t,” Steve teases. “Seems like my stupid t-shirt idea worked again. That’s three times, you dork.” Eddie can only groan. He knows that he has a bad habit of wandering, doesn’t mean that the idea is any less annoying or dumb. “Come on, Eds. Stop throwing a fit. Let’s do your thing.”

“You sure?”

“Eddie, if you don’t kiss or blow me on that ferris wheel, I’m banning D&D at my place for a month. Let’s go.”

When they get off and start walking back to the car, Steve tugs on the back of Eddie’s jeans. He yelps, startled, but quickly shuts his mouth when he’s faced with a stern look. “You know what I just remembered?” Steve asks him. There’s mirth in his eyes. Eddie doesn’t trust this at all. “Earlier, when I was telling you about wandering, I mentioned maybe tethering you to a rope. I might have to do that. Since you can’t behave.”

Eddie heats from the inside out. A coil tightens in his stomach. “You couldn’t even if you tried,” he bites back.

Later, he finds out, Steve is exceptional with rope. What a fucking boy scout.

——— +1 The Mall of America didn’t earn its title for nothing. The place was huge, that much Eddie could discern. Which made perfect sense when buying the new and improved: ‘If found, return to…’ shirts. However, this time, it was Steve with ‘If Found’ t-shirt.

At first, Steve didn’t know how to feel about the new shirts. Simply because he didn’t seem to see a reason for why he’d get lost or wander or be found in any capacity. But given the surprise Eddie had for him, the reason definitely fit the bill.

What Steve didn’t know, that Eddie one hundred percent knew, was that a Lego store was opening up at the mall. Or, has been opened at the mall. It was the perfect time for a little road trip. A little Fall of 1992 trip to Minnesota. Driving by trees and such. Parking in the Mall of America’s lot. Figuring out what stores to hit first, what food they wanted to eat, where the bathrooms were located. Typical day out sort of things.

However, one moment Steve was with him and the next…Eddie was scouring the food court for his fiancé. Trying not to throw up the meager lunch he just had. Swallowing down panic after panic after panic that rose in his chest like tsunami waves. This place was too big for either of them to wander or get lost or have a mind of their own. Not with the way they impulsively purchases things, an awful habit they both exuded—today is the worst day to do just that.

Which leads him to tapping on the shoulder of a guy around his age. Who’s carrying two large yellow Lego bags. Just sitting back in one of the food court chairs, minding his own business. Until, he whips around to find Eddie startled and red faced. “Uh…Can I help you, man?” The stranger greets.

“Sorry, hi,” Eddie says. “I just—You look like somebody who can maybe help me. I’m looking for my…friend, his name is Steve. Uh—White, around my height, dirty blonde hair. He’s wearing a pair of near skin tight Levi jeans, light wash and a white t-shirt that matches mine. Except, his says ‘If found, return to Eddie’. I’m Eddie, by the way. Anyway—Uh, you probably just came from the Lego store, yeah?”

“Sure,” the guy says, completely unsure of this interaction. “Why do you need to know—“

“So you can like lead me there? I’ve never been there. And like he’s really obsessed with those damn sets and like that’s really cool or whatever, but I need to know where he is because we’re from out of town and I have no fucking clue what I’m doing in this mall or where to—“

“Alright, dude, calm down,” guy placates. “We’ll find your friend. Just…That store is pretty fucking busy. Really popular, you know? I’ll take you there, but with how panicked you are, it would be best if you waited by the entrance of the store. Is that…”

“That’s perfectly fine to me!” Eddie nearly shouts.

He follows on this person’s heels. Bobbing and weaving through crowds of other over-consumers. Maybe shoving a few of them out of the way just so he can stay with that guy. But eventually, they make it to the outside of the rather precarious Lego store. Its yellow storefront nauseating to Eddie. Almost—Genuinely frustrating him beyond belief. And he sees Steve. Standing near the back of the store. Staring up at one of the shelves, but he lets the stranger he found grab Steve for him. Because no way in hell is Eddie going to survive being swallowed up by the awfully large crowd swamping the store.

Steve emerges from the crowd, a bit offended and a lot upended. But then has the gall to appear sheepish when he’s led directly to Eddie. With a nod and a tight smile, Eddie waves the stranger off. Almost wants to run back and get his name, send him a thank you card from the Hallmark store he saw on their way there.

He turns to face Steve, though. Leans them into the wall. “Jesus, Steve,” Eddie groans. “Is this what you put up with?”

“Is what—“

“The fucking panic? The—The whirling around and checking in the weird obscure places? Tapping on stranger’s shoulders only to see if they have a single goddamn idea where anything is…ever? Like—“ He sighs. “I thought that I’d never find you, Steve! You could’a at least told me you were going to go somewhere on your own. Maybe give me an idea of where you’re going?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Oh, so now that’s important to you?” He petulantly mutters. “Can’t go off and have fun without being pestered—“

“I’m not pestering, Steve!” Eddie grits. “I’m being concerned! I’m—You scared me,” he admits quietly. “And you ruined my surprise.”

“Ruined?” Steve echoes, confused. “What do you…oh. Oh. I—“ Then, Steve looks down to the floor. Eyes ashamed and arms tight to his body. “I didn’t…I was just excited, I’m sorry. The store was on the directory when we first came in and I like—“ He chuckles a little bit, loosening up. “—I fucking memorized where to go. What path to take. Because I just really wanted to look in there. They’ve got—Eddie, they have this one set in there, it’s a freaking spaceship and it’s called the…The Galactic Meditator or something? I can’t—That doesn’t matter,” he rambles. Takes a deep breath and pushes himself tighter into Eddie’s space. “I’m sorry, baby,” he murmurs, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Eddie gives a single nod. Closes his eyes and staves off the rest of his panic and anger. He’d be a hypocrite if he lashed out right now. He knows that. And, honestly, seeing Steve geek out about toys…of all things…is kind of endearing. Maybe even doing something for Eddie.

He puts on his best smile, something genuine and pulled from within him. “It’s alright,” he whispers. “I—I should’ve known that you were going to come over here.”

“I mean, you did a little bit, right? Had to find somebody that led you here?”

“You got me,” Eddie breathes. “Y’know all my tricks.”

Steve hums beside him. “I’m actually sorry, though, that I ruined the surprise you had in mind. This is a pretty cool thing.”

Eddie smirks. “Steve Harrington admitting to a geek thing being cool…When did the tables turn?” He teases. “Seems like God has heard my prayers,” he jests. With a quick sneaky look around, he grabs Steve’s hand. Squeezes firmly and exhales the last bit of his panicked nerves. “Does my fiancé want to…Oh, I don’t know…Get a Lego set?”

The hand in his tightens with a harsh, unbelieving amount of strength. He almost winces. “Really?” Steve asks, perking up. If he had a tail, it would most definitely be wagging. “Can we actually? I really want that one that I found in there, the uh…Galactic whatever it was called. I’m bad at the names, which is weird because I’ve been building these sets for a while, but I always seem to get the names wrong and I—“ Eddie interrupts with a squeeze to his hand again, a smile bright and plastered to his face. “Sorry,” Steve sheepishly says, “Let’s go in there. I can show you and maybe…you can get one of your own?”

“Lead the way, sweetheart,” Eddie murmurs against Steve’s cheek, leaving a very chaste but all the same kiss there.

The panic was worth it in the end. Because watching Steve in his element, nerd-ing over toys and how to best put them together, really makes Eddie’s chest warm. In a way that tells him he’d put up with wandering all his life, if only to get Steve to smile the way he does when proudly displaying his new spaceship.

👕—————👕

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #3+1 #humor and hijinks #humor #or at least an attempt at humor #mild hurt/comfort

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that-bwitch · 2 days

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london boy

am I in my lover era? probably, but am I ashamed? no, not really. but just a warning, I won't even try to commit to posting this often. literally just a burst of inspiration (and taylor swift).

london boy by taylor swift as inspiration sirius x muggle!reader warning: prolly nothing, it's just fluff wc: 2,2k

From your very childhood up to your late teens your parents really liked bringing you to London with them from time to time. It was a truly beautiful city to be a tourist in. You’d been there so often that you felt like some sort of an expert. You could recite the history of any major landmark, just point at, say, the Tower, and one could hear a whole lecture from you about the fortress, the prison, the ravens, all the good stuff. You got cocky at times, thinking you could easily become a tour guide. Your friends back in your hometown rolled their eyes every time you even mentioned London, and the level of your excitement grew every single day throughout the month before you finally moved there.

Turned out, London wasn’t so great to live in. At least that’s what you thought on your first day, when you paid thrice the price you expected to pay for the cab taking you from the airport to the hotel. Then, the hunt for a rental began. The hotel started to get expensive day by day and soon enough you really lost your spirits. You didn’t have enough money to pay for a room and a real estate agent, so you resorted to looking through tons and tons of newspapers, hoping that an advertisement of a one-bedroom would at some point catch your eye. It wasn’t working as well as you expected, so one gloomy rainy afternoon you found yourself just walking through a random neighbourhood looking at houses and thinking that cooking some hot soup on your own stove sounded really nice at the moment. You realized that your exterior was pretty miserable for someone who couldn’t hold in an excited shriek right after buying a ticket to London last month. As if to confirm your assumptions, a sudden laughter disrupted the cacophony of raindrops hitting the ground and wind howling between the branches of nearby trees.

Oh, god.

“You aren’t from ‘round here, right?”

A motorcycle rolled from behind you along the roadway. You continued on your way, thinking it was just some creep who noticed your vulnerable state and decided to, well, be a creep.

“Hey, hey, ma’am, you don’t have an umbrella and I do. Pretty sure I win.”

“Ma’am? Really?”

You stopped at last to see who had the audacity to just ride up to you like you were their longtime friend.

“Bet that’s what you think us Brits talk like, foreign girl.”

The rider took off his helmet and you saw what was probably the best sight you had a pleasure to witness in the entirety of London. The young man was truly divine: his dark hair barely reached his shoulders and was a bit messy from the helmet; he had a stubble that was too short to be called a beard yet, but it was getting there; when he smiled, you could see small dimples forming on his cheeks. You felt stupid staring at him like that but couldn’t help it at all. With his stunning looks, the obvious accent you immediately took notice of sounded even more charming.

“Alright, not a talker, I see.”

The man stood up from his vehicle, pulled out a kickstand so that it wouldn’t just roll down the street and walked up to you, pulling up the collar of his leather jacket to shield his face from the rain.

“You said you had an umbrella.”

Kind of stupid of you to say, but you couldn’t really make up anything else that wouldn’t give out your infatuation.

“Just like that, huh? Could at least ask my name, you know.”

He didn’t wait for your response, holding his hand out to you.

“Sirius.”

You shook his hand, although yours was already pretty numb from the cold, and introduced yourself as well. You had to say something at that point because you started to look weirder and weirder by the second.

“That’s… an interesting name.”

Oh, come on. This is all you have?

“Bit rude, darling. What did you think it was?”

“Like… Matthew?”

The man laughed, just like you heard him laughing minutes ago. He wasn’t taunting you, no, on the contrary – he was rather amused by your mild naivety.

“Oh shit, do I look like a Matthew? I’m gutted, I have to say.”

You couldn’t help chuckling at his words. The rain didn’t feel so bad anymore, now that you had someone to share it with.

“Hop on. I have to get you to a pub, or else you’ll turn into a bloody icicle.”

He helped you get on his bike and soon you were riding straight through the streets of London with your hands wrapped around Sirius’ body. You felt it was a wee bit inappropriate for someone you met, like, five minutes ago, but you couldn’t say you didn’t like it. What is more, you expected raindrops to become some small annoying mosquitoes who would relentlessly bite your face during the ride but surprisingly, it didn’t happen. It almost felt like you actually had an invisible umbrella above you, because you glanced at a sleeve of your coat and it had become much drier than it was before.

The pub Sirius took you to looked like one of those places you saw on TV when the setting was supposed to be the UK. Lots of wooden furniture around, lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling and emitting warm and rather dim light. In the corner you saw an old record player with a small TV on top of it. You saw it as a symbol of modernity overtaking the old school, which epitomized London itself, but decided not to voice your thoughts in order not to appear as a nerd.

“Fancy a beer?” Sirius asked, leading you to a large counter.

In your mind you would much prefer some tea to warm yourself up, but the stranger was already too kind for you to make any extra demands of him. So, you just nodded and let him have free reign over the type of beer for you.

“We come here with my mates sometimes,” Sirius explained, having made an order while you made yourself comfortable on a bar stool.

“That’s nice.” You felt a bit awkward and out of place, but Sirius didn’t seem like the shady type, so you felt more comfortable with him than you would have likely felt with anyone else. “Do you watch rugby here?” You gestured towards the TV.

“I mean, if it’s on…” Sirius tried but failed to hide a chuckle. “That’s what the rest of the world thinks of us English lads, huh? That we hang at pubs and watch rugby all day?”

“To be fair, you took me to a pub.” You felt slightly embarrassed but attempted not to show it.

“That much’s true.”

You took a small sip out of a glass mug of beer placed in front of you. It wasn’t that bad, to be honest – a bit too bitter for your personal taste, but you could see yourself finishing the whole thing.

“Is this a British thing, beer in the afternoon?” you asked, looking at a huge grandfather clock behind the bar and remembering that it was, in fact, only midday.

“I guess, but I’ve always thought of it as a me thing.”

You held your mug in front of your face so that Sirius wouldn’t notice a huge smile forming on your face. You found everything about him irresistibly attractive – his voice, his mannerisms, his whole presence was alluring in a very authentic kind of way. It was obvious that in front of you he wasn’t pretending, he was just being himself.

“How did you know I wasn’t from here?” You finally had the courage to ask the question that had been pestering you for a while.

“Oh, it’s obvious,” Sirius replied, taking a swig of his beer. “You can always tell, it’s just how us Londoners are wired.”

You couldn’t really retort.

“Are you on holiday, or…?” Sirius went silent, letting you fill in the gap.

“I moved here a week ago,” you explained, feeling a very annoyed expression taking over your face. “Been trying to find an apartment but no luck so far.”

Sirius frowned a bit, thinking about something.

“I reckon I could help you, darling,” he finally told you with a playful smirk on his face. “I’d have to ask you for something in return though.”

“Oh, sure, I’ll pay!”

And you were ready to, because you had heard from someone that word of mouth was actually the best way to find an apartment on a budget these days. It’s just that you didn’t have this mouth before.

Sirius just grinned in response.

“Hey, that’s on me.”

He stopped your hand as it was reaching into your purse to take out your wallet and pay for your beer.

“Really?”

“Well, I dragged you here, so it’s only fair.”

Afterwards you stepped out of the pub to see daylight again. Fortunately, you discovered that it stopped raining and the sky was of a much lighter gray than before. Sirius caught up to you and stretched out his arm, wrapping it around your shoulder. You didn’t mind at all but were still quite stunned because, well, a teenager in you woke up and started internally screaming from this handsome stranger’s closeness.

“A nice weather we have here, darling. Which is super convenient as I don’t prefer driving drunk.”

Sirius looked like someone who would gladly drive drunk, you thought, but instead simply asked about the bike.

“A friend will take it,” he gave you a rather nonchalant reply, already headed somewhere to your left, with your hand now in his. “Come on, London doesn’t wait.”

“What if I have plans?” you tried to retort but your feet still carried you after Sirius and you weren’t going to stop them.

“Really? You just moved here, can’t find an apartment and you have plans? Don’t believe it.” Sirius didn’t leave any room for objections as he was absolutely right. “Come o-o-on, darling, I know you want it.”

And for god’s sake, you did.

—

“So… Is this the part of the day when we say goodbye?”

All of a sudden you felt a wave of sadness coming over you. This day turned out to be truly magical and the last thing you wished for was for it to end. Sirius showed you everything, and you meant everything. He had his ways around the city that you would never even think to take, but they worked wonders, almost like some kind of portals transporting you from one place to another (but of course, it was just Sirius). Soon you could take pride in having explored pretty much all the central boroughs from inside and out. You, once again, had a very tourist-y experience of eating fish and chips in Hyde Park, and Sirius showed you an amazing little Chinese place where you promptly had dinner. You couldn’t have been thankful enough when he told you he would take it upon himself to look for an apartment – sorry, a flat – for you, but when you tried to give him some cash, he adamantly refused, so you were left wondering what he meant when he said he would ask for something in return. But most of all, you couldn’t really understand why he would do anything for you at all.

“I guess it is…” you mumbled, wishing with your whole heart you were wrong. But it was late, the sun hid behind the horizon hours ago and your eyes became increasingly more and more itchy.

“Well, we’re meeting tomorrow, so… Not so bad, huh?”

Sirius didn’t seem tired in the slightest, so you decided to just fire away and ask the question that had been swirling in your mind for the whole day.

“Why are you doing all this?”

“What do you mean?” Sirius raised his eyebrow and, judging by the look on his face, thought you were making a joke.

“I mean, you saw me on the street and just… took me under your wing, I guess. I wouldn’t have all this experience without you, London boy. And this apartment thing… It’s too generous. You don’t have to.”

“I know I don’t have to.” Sirius had the widest smile on his face. It was captivating and you didn’t even notice how you started smiling yourself. “But I want to, that’s it, darling. I really, really want to.”

His hands kept yours warm while he spoke. You had a sudden urge to do something you might or might not have regretted in the future. You stepped closer to Sirius, getting up on your toes and pecking his cheek ever so slightly, as if you were afraid to scare him away. Then you leaned away, staring at his face with worry in your eyes. Sirius slowly ran his fingers along his skin, where your lips just were, like he couldn’t believe what happened. Then, much to your surprise, he got closer and before you could realize it, your lips met his. They were a bit chapped, but the pleasure they brought you couldn’t have possibly belonged on planet Earth.

“I fancy you, foreign girl.”

Sirius pulled back and looked deep into your eyes. His gaze was so tender that you understood that from now on, London wouldn’t be such a bad place to live.

#sirius black x reader #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black imagine #the marauders #the marauders era

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blasphemecel · 13 hours

Text

Michael Kaiser — Takotsubo Cardiomyopathy

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 1.3k TYPE: Angst, Post-break up WARNING(S): Don't read if you're sensitive to medical stuff, also tw for KAISER-TYPICAL MELODRAMA

“Are you fucking kidding me? That just sounds made up.”

“Sir,” the doctor, who’s been having to deal with Kaiser acting like the hospital is a debate club for the past fifteen minutes, says. Then he lets out a sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose. In all honesty, he does not want to deal with this. “While there’s an existing argument about the classification of broken heart syndrome, it is a real thing that happens. And you have it as we’ve deduced.”

“I don’t have health problems,” Kaiser says. Of course, those words fly out of his mouth without trouble even when Ness had to call an ambulance on him and everything, since he looked like he was on the brink of death today at practice. “Much less from bullshit reasons like a broken heart.”

“You don’t need to take it literally. That’s just the name. The trigger for the stress varies from case to case.”

Kaiser hopes his defensive statement didn’t reveal anything too personal, and decides to throw off any suspicion by staring down at his lap while frowning like a kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. At least the doctor doesn’t seem to care because he’s not prying for unnecessary details. Not yet, anyway.

“For how long have you been ignoring the symptoms?”

“I haven’t been ignoring anything,” Kaiser says.

Sure, he was dizzy a few (many) times and short of breath, and disregarded it. And while he can sense the tightness and pain in his chest each time, a recurring physical and tangible ache, Kaiser interprets the experience as some kind of metaphor for the figurative stabbing he was a victim of. The arrhythmia is a natural indignant response to whenever your irritating face pops up in his imagination, since you’re the perpetrator.

All this over some shitty break up. While it’s stupid for someone whose career is in sports to shrug off such obvious signs, until today Kaiser never truly thought it was serious enough to warrant such an overreaction from his body. You shouldn’t have this much power over him. He’s going to kill you next time he sees you for doing this to him.

He’s deep in denial and the grave he’s been digging with his stupid lies is shallow in contrast, inefficient. Can’t even deceive himself.

“It’s most common in people over fifty.”

Kaiser rolls his eyes. “Thanks. I really needed to hear that.”

“What I’m saying is, I assume you’ve been ignoring this for some time and it escalated to a bad attack. So, do you recall if you’ve gone through severe stress recently? Anything traumatizing even, either physically or mentally? When was it? If you could be exact, that’d be helpful.”

Traumatizing? Traumatizing? Is this man fucking kidding him right now?

Kaiser stares at the doctor as if he’s the stupidest person alive. Forget a person, he is a bug for such a suggestion. Through grit teeth, he relents, “There was something two weeks ago. By the way, it wasn’t traumatizing! That’s ridiculous.”

What’s even more absurd is the notion Kaiser wouldn’t know how much time has passed with perfect accuracy. Fourteen days he hasn’t been sleeping well, hugging his pillow and crying like a loser, cursing you, wanting you back, both a worshipper and a heretic.

What was he feeling at that moment, when you broke things off? Was it overwhelming anger which got him to this point? Though he’s been reliving the moment over and over, Kaiser still can’t identify it. Just something intense zapping him through his veins, a devastating shock, a surge of adrenaline. But surely it was resentment at your audacity to throw him away like disposable trash? He doesn’t like the thought that he’s been so pathetically sad, he got sick because of it, so this is what he’ll go with.

Thinking about it is enough to make him start picking at the skin on his neck like he’s trying to peel the ink off. It’s almost vile. At least he retains the common sense not to squeeze it in front of a medical professional who can send him away to a psych ward with ease.

The doctor, too, looks at Kaiser like he is an insane person. Good thing they pay him enough for this — otherwise, he doesn’t know how he’d deal with having a strange man with a bizarre haircut give him attitude over his diagnosis when it should be reserved for his barber or whoever is responsible.

“Two weeks ago, okay,” he says, writing it down. “Lucky for you, this is temporary and reversible unlike most other things we checked you for. You’ll be fine in about two months with the treatment.”

“So, like I thought, it’s not a big deal. I can still play football, right? Don’t need to lay off or anything?” Kaiser asks.

The doctor sighs. Again. He wants to measure the circumference, thickness and density of Kaiser’s skull. “You’re not listening,” he says, clearly exasperated, but still trying to exert patience. “Your heart is weak and not functioning properly at the moment. You can’t immediately jump back into living the way you usually do. It’s still serious no matter what you say and it can cause complications.”

Kaiser makes an annoyed expression like this is all one big inconvenience rather than a threat to his quality of life. “Are you serious? You’ve got to be shitting me.”

“I’m honored you seem to think I’m a hilarious comedian, sir, since this is your nth time asking, but it’s not the case,” he says levelly.

“Don’t get clever with me.”

A sharp inhale through the nose and the doctor’s back on track, maintaining a feeble grasp on his inner peace, at least enough not to snap. Then, after this brief recollection, he reaches out to grab something, then holds it up. It’s a picture that looks either like an abortion-to-be or a black and white photo of lasagna… maybe. “This is your heart.”

Kaiser almost forgot about the ultrasound or whatever since he was strung out and sedated- relaxed throughout that whole ordeal. At the sight of it now, always theatrical, he decides the best course of action is to wrinkle his nose and say ‘eww,’ even though he’s not squeamish. But treating the matter seriously means admitting he has a problem, and he can’t have that.

The doctor pretends he can’t hear anything and points at the relevant area with his finger to illustrate the crux of the matter better. “You have apical ballooning. Do you get it? Even if it’s temporary, you can’t treat it lightly. So-”

Kaiser tunes out the rest of the explanation. Blah, blah, he could harm himself, very original. His gaze is stuck on the echocardiogram, though, and this time he’s nauseous for real, the tiniest bit. It strikes him as particularly ugly and deformed. Organs are repulsive to begin with, anyway, but this… thing is his, and he’s seeing it now. In any case, nothing so disgusting is worth loving or treating with care.

Is this how you’ve come to see him? What does Kaiser look like in your eyes? Ugly and maladjusted on the inside? Someone who likes laughing at other people’s misery, but can’t take even the slightest puncture? So out of touch with his emotions — and of his own volition —, he’s started experiencing them in the most visceral way possible. His desire for you: torment, a disease.

Would you find him dramatic? Maybe, but at least you’d make him laugh and smile and anything else his troubled mind has decided he needs at the moment, from you alone. Doesn’t matter, though. He’s not privy to that kind of thing, not anymore.

There’s a sting in his eyes and Kaiser wipes away his tears with a hasty swipe, though a few more stream down his cheeks. He doesn’t even know what he’s crying about again.

The doctor observes the display with the distanced apathy of someone who’s watched people die and shit themselves.

He gets discharged with a prescription and elaborate instructions on how to go about his physical activities until it’s deemed he’s fully healed at the later check-ups.

Great. Pitiful.

___

What's funny is that Y/n's probably having a good day while all this is going on

#michael kaiser x reader #blue lock x reader #kaiser x reader #blue lock x you #bllk x reader

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f4iry-bell · 1 day

Text

@emelia07 sorry i couldn't directly answer the ask, my stupid ass accidentally posted midway editing. ANYWAY, this quite long for an one shot and there will be a part two (for the lovers part). lowkey longan huntzberger vibes

She drove him to the absolute end of the world. And with just two sentences, it's all Jameson Hawthorne has been thinking about. Jameson likes to party, in his own way, not the silly college parties that he gets invited to. But he was in college, and is in college to meet people, make friends, and have fun. Maybe these people can learn a thing or two from him.

So he accepted an invite and went to a party. The biggest mistake he made since he joined college. Because that's where he met her.

Being in a party full of stupid men was enough to piss Y/n off, on top of that she saw a man with probably a narcissistic personality disorder. There was a group of people talking, one of them was her friend, her friend called her over and got her involved in the conversation. She was surprised how many people were interested in Jameson Hawthorne.

“Have you smoked weed”

“What is the most expensive thing that you own”

“What is do you like”

Tons of questions were asked to him.

“I’m a man of riddles and games. There isn't a single riddle that I can't solve” He told them with a confident smile.

Y/n didn't know much about this man, but she had the urge to humble him.

“I have a riddle for you.” She said, grabbing his attention.

Jameson liked it, a challenge. He thought, a random girl at a random college party, how hard the riddle could be?

“What has no wings, but flies. Has no eyes but knows every colour” She said. Everyone was confused, including Jameson himself. He tried to think of an answer but he didn't get one. He tried to think of something mythical, something metaphorical. But he couldn't get anything that fits.

“Quiet now, are we?” She smiled so proudly of herself. Jameson didn't answer, just stared at her intensely. She was the one to break eye contact and leave.

Jameson spent days looking for an answer, he even asked his brothers for help. None of them could figure it out. He was not the type to give up. But there's a first time for everything, he thought. He headed to the girls' dorm and knocked on her door. Going to parties come handy, you can easily find any girl’s dorm room.

She opened the door. “You need something?” She asked him.

“Answer” It was all he said, his pride was too high to form a complete sentence.

“For what? We don't take any classes together” She acted like she doesn't know what he's talking about.

“Quit the act. You know what I want” He said calmly.

“Oh, you mean the riddle? I thought you could find the answer to any riddle” She smirked.

“Well, since last week I can't. Now, answer.” He asked.

“Where are your manners?” She raised an eyebrow.

Jameson rolled his eyes. “Please?”

She smiled. “The answer is; nil”

“Nil? As in nothing? Doesn't make sense ‘What has wings but can't fly—” He was cut off by her.

“Yeah, yeah. It doesn't make any sense because there is no answer. I don't know the answer either, I just randomly made it up without having an answer.”

Till this moment Jameson was amused and intrigued by this girl. But now? He was frustrated. He was speechless.

“Do you know how much time I spent on this ridiculous so-called riddle?” He was mad.

“Wah, wah, wah. I don't know and I don't care. You got your answer, now bye.” Then she slammed the door.

Jameson calmed himself down. It's just a stupid thing. He can't let it get to him. But it did, she did.

He tried hard not to think about her, and how she played him but he failed every time. Sometimes he even admired it. But he wants to get even or a step ahead of her. So, he joined her journalism class and sat right next to her.

“That's my friend’s seat” She told him.

“Not anymore” He smiled.

“You're not even in this class” She stated.

“Not anymore” He gave her a cheeky smile.

“You're interested in journalism?” She asked.

“I'm full of surprises”

“Whatever”

Jameson learnt that she is on top of the class, and likes to stay that way. So he decided to compete with her, he has barely any interest in journalism but he wants to get back at her. Finally, there was an actual competition between them. There was only one spot left in the Yale newspaper. The editor said whoever writes the best article gets the spot.

Y/n had too many ideas to write about but she finally settled on writing about the secret society, but she needed information and it's already too late. Tomorrow is the submission, so she sneaked inside the library at midnight and even picked the lock of the restricted section to get access to the newspapers there. She found nothing except a Yale newspaper which had a bunch of suspects on who could be that year's members of the secret society, and she headed towards the library exit. To her luck, Jameson Hawthorne was standing right there, he looked like he was waiting for her.

“Too late to be here, don't you think?” he asked. “I must let you know, I do admire a good lock picking” He said leaning against the door frame.

“I could ask you the same question” She said ignoring the last sentence.

Jameson smirked. “I was just wandering around the campus and found the library door slightly open and look what I've found inside”

“You're seriously not going to tell me, are you?” She asked. “We're not like in 4th grade or something”

“It'll get you suspended, and I’ll get the spot” He shrugged.

“Oh, so this is how you want your win? By getting me suspended?” She chuckled, she knew by now that Jameson Hawthorne likes to win but he also likes to play.

He raised his eyebrows and nodded. “Very well. You still haven't answered my question.” He noted.

“I came to look for information for my article. Not that it's any of your—.” She stopped her sentence midway and took a look at his outfit. He was wearing a suit with a tie which had blue and white stripes. He was also holding a hat and it looked like something was inside the hat. Who would wear a suit with Yale colours and hold a hat on a wednesday at 12:45am?

“Wait, you're part of the secret soceity, aren't you?” She asked, curiosity filled.

“One never tells” His eyes drifted to her hands which held the newspapers. Jameson smirked and then spoke. “Good night, Ace” And then he left.

“Wait!” She called and ran after him. “Tell me about it,” She asked.

“Like I said, one never tells” And then he walked away.

Two days later Y/n searched for Jameson everywhere and found him in the cafeteria mixing up random drinks. She slammed a paper on the table.

Jameson looked at it. “Mm, I see you've read my article” He smirked.

“You stole my idea!” She tried not to yell.

“Really?”

“You don't even care about this paper, or the spot.”

“Listen, Ace. We both wrote about the same thing, one just did it better than the other. And the better one gets the spot.” He explained with a sly smirk.

“Because you are a member! Obviously you'd know more than me!” She pointed.

“Better luck next time” He was still smirking.

“Screw you” With that she left. Jameson obviously didn't know why the spot meant so much to her.

Jameson noticed that she didn't sit at the usual spot, instead she sat at the back of the class and she looked so tired, almost like she had been crying. He wanted to go and sit next to her but what's the point? He won the game. She is no longer a part of his life, right?

#jameson hawthorne #jameson hawthorne x reader #the inheritance games #the brothers hawthorne #the grandest game #grayson hawthorne #xander hawthorne #avery kylie grambs #nash hawthorne #the hawthorne brothers #avery grambs

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notakoala · 24 hours

Text

Title cover by me, please ask for permission to use. Not the panel but the editing :)

—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–——–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—

Todoroki's sick?

This is just a drabble for the moment but if I post this hooray you get to see what sort of lovesick lonely relationship I want.

ITS A COMPLETE SLOWBURN PLEASE DONT HATE ME

Contains: Vomit, Illness, Spoilers.

Todoroki gets sick? Thank god your there to help him you pitiful bastard.

Your in your last year of U.A, just after your exams he gets sick. Where did Shouto go?

—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—

"Todoroki Shouto." The same monotone voice came from your tired teacher, had his eyebags dropped even more? His eyes had surely gotten more red. He looks stoned, you wish you could be too.

Zoning out for a second too long you feel a glare from your teacher who had probably said your name mote than three times by now, flicking his scarf to slide right past your ear, a whooshing sound which jolted you out of your zoned out state.

It was the same silence, the same silence that had gone on for the past three days. Time doesn't normally matter to you, the world moves either to quick or too slow so you do your own thing.

"Focus or I'll make you run laps."

You flinch and look directly at your teacher who had moved towards your desk, black eyes slowly emitting the gloomy red that scared you sometimes. Sitting up straighter then you had ever sat you gave him a small smile before nodding a small apology. Thank god he was tired or he might have probably killed you by now.

"Ah, [Your Name]. Is there something bothering you?" Uraraka asked beside you quietly as you all began writing. To which you turned to see her eyes locked with yours.

You respond with a quick 'hm' shaking your head trying not to worry your friend, shifting your focus back to your writing as you tried not to think about specific things.

'I wonder where Todoroki is...'

'Is he with his dad? Maybe his mum...'

You shake your head and pinch your arm to refocus feeling a hint of heat on the tips of your ears. Your eyes staring intensely at the word 'mixture'.

'Fuck, that's also like him.'

Rubbing your temples now, and running a hand behind the back of your neck and pressing down on the sore spot that had grown increasingly through the pressure of homework and assignments, Hero work too.

A low muttering came from Midoryia, he was back to his usual ways even while Mr Aizawa spoke in his colourless voice. And Ashido and Kaminari were whispering to each other trying to get some form of idea as to what to write.

If you were completely honest you didn't know what to write either, the work was something about Physical and Quirk development, which was a pain when you had learned majority of it in middle school.

Yet you didn't know what to write, even if you knew about what you were learning, you still didn't know what to write. Maybe it was the three assignments that you turned in earlier today, maybe you were just burnt out.

Aizawa's words were now muffled through your thoughts as you doodled over your pages of lined, neat work. They weren't the best but they were cute enough to stay in your book.

"But sir this is too difficult!" Mina and Denki whined in unison, snapping you out of your stage of drawing and listening into the bickering, Bakugou yelling at them from across the room.

"Shuddap. If you werent so stupid maybe you would understand!"

Aizawa sighed yet again, sleep deprived probably, maybe an insomniac. "Bakugou, get back to your own work."

After a miniature altercation between Aizawa and Bakugou, it ended with Bakugou going quiet and grumbling as he continued working and Aizawa scolding Mina and Denki.

Uraraka was giggling beside you, covering her smirk and lowering her head further than what it usually is and trying to compose herself. Her brown hair was definitely longer than what it was in your first year, down to her shoulders now.

She complained that it was getting too long and that she needed to cut it but she didn't have the money, so when Momo offered to pay she declined and said that her hair was fine the way it was.

Even if she was your friend she's a little too anxious about money, even if it was ten dollars. You knew it was because of her background but she's going to be paid a shit ton in the future, if she continued with her path of being a pro.

You ponder on the small parts that you were thinking of before. 'Three days.', was the main thought as you were distracted yet again, which ended with the sake old lecture about listening and paying attention by Aizawa.

***

"[Your Name!" Tsuyu and Mina ran after you, the entire of U.A walking the same paths as the rest of the years. It was your last year, last year of all of this. It sparks an anxious pain in your chest but at the same time motivation.

You turn to face your two friends and Mina practically jumps into your arms and nearly takes the both of you to the floor. And now your winded as Tsu drags Mina off you.

"Are you going to come to dinner tonight?" Tsu asks, her croaky voice comes from her, shorter than Mina and you but thankfully taller than that purple balled idiot. He hurt your neck often when he gave you creepy smiles and all his perverted stuff.

A shrug comes from your shoulders which ends with a pampering Mina begging you not to stay cooped up in your room for the rest of winter holidays. A short answer came from your lips and Tsu's tongue was sticking out as she smiled warmly.

"Probably not, I gotta get this resume in."

Tsu nodded and pulled at Mina's shirt and trying to usher her away as to not hold you back any longer. She might not have spoke many words but she's very expressive through her emotions.

Eventually she was picked off bit by bit, and the dormitory was around a minute away walking. You were tired, but now having to write up a resume that you were planning on doing a week earlier, didn't happen. The procrastination got to you before you even started.

So you began walking, thinking about how to start on your resume even though it was simple, obviously you had to start with your full name, address... 'Would it be the dorm number or just U.A?' The thought ran through your mind before getting thrown into the many other thoughts.

You gave a small wave to Sato who was watering some of the flowers that the class planted earlier this year. He waved back only a few seconds after you, and by then you were already at the steep of the stairs. Pushing the doors open to the smell of Bakugou's food.

Ignoring the smell you looked at the elevator before taking the stairs, you were only on the first floor anyway. It was a flight of stairs, the least you could do is not be lazy.

When you unlocked your door, the small 'rodent' so you claim it to be meowed and purred against your leg.

"Hey Asana, what'cha doing pretty?" You ran a hand along the curled soft hair of your cat, you weren't really supposed to have pets in the dorms but they didn't have to know about him.

Sure, Asana was a male cat with a girl's name, but he didn't know that. He can't understand English, sometimes that makes you suspicious of him. So you shut the door behind you, picking him up and smooching his head three times before he places a paw to your nose.

"You stink."

Asana responded with a long meow, of course. He wanted food, you place him on the ground and sort him out. Flopping onto your bed with a groan of relief when the softness of the cushion collides with your back.

In less than a second, the little rodent you loved so much had jumped on you and was making biscuits on your chest, putting all his weight on his front paws, making you wheeze in pain, how could a cat be so heavy?

He purred loudly and soon after fell asleep on you, which left you scrolling on your phone and typing up this resume that you definitely needed to do before you left school. And of course it would probably take three seconds to finish, but you had sooooo many other things to do. One of them was steal Bakugou's recipe cause damn his cooking is amazing, he would mind so you would have to do it in secret.

Did he even have a recipe to follow? It would surprise you if you didn't, maybe Sato could help. Bakugou never seemed to mind him helping with cooking, he'd prefer him cleaning or doing something else. But only a grumble would be his response.

Thinking over your plan you knew it wouldn't help, you were already on social media and Mina had posted a class photo, Sato was there as well. Damn, he probably ran so he wasn't late.

It was already dark, maybe you could order in. You didn't have much energy to cook anyway, Bakugou definitely wouldn't waste his precious time cooking for you anyway, you were 'a pain in the ass'.

'Ah, I forgot about Todoroki.'

The thought that crossed through your mind from earlier today had reached you again, Midoryia said that he wasn't out with family. Iida said that he had probably become ill, with his continuous efforts at school.

"Asana, should I message him?" You ask your cat, he wasn't going to respond. Either a meow or his ears twitching would be the response.

He was dead asleep. On your chest, curled ears twitching when you sighed deeply and looked at the name on your screen, 'Shouto'. He had a small emoji next to his name, thanks to your creativity of putting what their quirks were as emoji's.

After a long groan and thinking you fumble around messaging him quickly.

'Hey Todoroki, I was wondering how you are doing since you haven't been at school.'

Sent.

Fuck.

Squeezing Asana'a pretty white fur he responded back with a low purr. Three minutes go by, feels like forever and the embarrassment of messaging someone you don't usually message. Ah, this is shit.

Your phone lights up, the notification carxges your eye.

Shouto 🧊🔥

'I'm unwell.'

Dry text. As usual, it didn't bother you as much as it used to, he's gotten better since first year.

'Would you like me to get you something?'

You message back immediately, the heat rushing to your face.

Shouto🧊🔥

'Porridge and Orange juice?'

Was all he replied before you sat up, Asana jumping off and getting comfy on your bed, maybe you should change. Sweats and a singlet? Yep.

Grey pants and a black singlet was what you wore, bringing up a hot bowl of porridge and a carton of Orange juice that was in the fridge, wasn't yours but you'll buy another one for whoever complains.

He was on the fifth floor, wasn't a preference, you would complain if you had to go up five floors.

You reach his room that was labelled with his name, Todoroki. And you knock on the door, it was dead quiet. Usually you would be able to hear Jiro playing her instruments but she was gone as well.

The door clicks open and you see Todoroki, taller than you. His hair a mess and both of his hair colours mixing with eachother, he has showered. But he looks like a mess.

"Can I come in?"

You ask quietly and he covers his couch with his elbow, nodding and turning around so you can go inside his dorm. Very traditional, you saw it a few times while studying with Sero. He cleans regularly, but it's gotten messy since he's been sick.

There was a bucket next to his bed, has he been really sick? Maybe Gastro.

"Sit back down I don't wanna make you run around or something." You usher him back to his futon, you have the kindest expression on and aren't trying to push him around too much.

The room has a hint of sickness in it too, maybe you would get sick too. Oh well.

He sits down with his legs crossed and looks up at you, his face puffy and his hair still a mess, he looks like his gaze is a blur and you gently give him the porridge.

"Have you been eating?"

This is awkward, first you had to message him and now your stuck in his room, with him when he is sick. Your eyes wander and he eats the porridge slowly, blowing on the spoon a few times and switching off his phone. He nods to your question, responding back in a sick and croaked speech.

"Mhm, not much."

Your breath tightened, his voice was usually deepish and monotone but when he's sick. Jesus, gonna take the life outta you.

In less than a second that all changes when he leaps towards the plastic bucket beside his futon and gags profusely, throwing up the porridge he had eaten mere seconds earlier, his stomach trying to throw up on an empty stomach now.

You quickly make your way towards him and kneel down beside him, he puts a hand out to stop you but you move his hair out of the way. It had gotten longer throughout the years but your pretty sure he's been missing his hair appointments.

"Come on Todoroki! Why didn't you let us know." Grumbling beside his ear, he wipes his mouth before sitting back up again, washing his mouth out with the cut of water beside the bucket and spitting it into the bucket.

He goes to stand up, but you keep him sat down, giving him the carton of orange juice that you had brought earlier, were you holding that while keeping his hair out of the way?

"What are you doing?" He asks in the same groggy probably drugged up voice while watching you pick up the vomit filled bucket and taking it to the toilet in his room.

You look back at him, pushing the toilet seat up and pouring the foul substance into the toilet. Flushing it before closing the lid. "You need to rest. Your not getting up unless I'm gone."

Strong tone and using the shower head in the bathroom to rinse the bucket, you turn your head to see if he agrees.

"It's only a stomach bug."

"A stomach bug that makes you look like your about to die."

"Every illness makes you look like that."

"Your not getting up unless you need to go to the toilet. Your quirk is going to drain your energy so don't use that either."

He sighs, not wanting to argue and knowing you were kind of right, he hated to admit it but he actually liked that you cared for him like that. He had gotten used to looking out for himself but when his friends and classmates helped him he realised he also had to look out for others.

"Fine."

He couldn't help it however. He wasn't that sick, right?

You sit down beside him on his futon and look at the half eaten bowl of porridge, he was drinking the juice in hand and staring at you with those oh so beautiful eyes. But it's when he leans over and rests his head kn your shoulder that makes you freeze.

"Thanks."

Was all he spoke before closing his eyes and breathing in your scent, you were confused as to why he had done so. Maybe he liked you? Is he clingy when he's sick?

You chuckle and pat his back, he was already relaxed into you but your physical touch made him melt, his body weight becoming evident on your body. So you use majority of your strength to keep sitting up, while adjusting to his weight.

His eyes were closed against you and his breathing became quieter and quieter until you almost could mistake him for being dead. It was soon you realised you were both breathing at the same pace. Did that always happen when two were so close?

Spotting a damp rag on the floor, you pick it up to feel if it is still cold, it wasn't. You couldn't move yet because he was practically attached to you. Jolting when you moved even an inch, so now you were laying down beside him on the single futon. His head against your arm and his arm along your waist.

This wasn't like him, for sure. Was he mistaking you for someone else? Your hoping he's not, cause whoever he would be thinking about like this. Wasn't you.

"It's cold." He speaks quietly, it's only then that you realise the chill in the air. It was already night? But the sun was up, you checked your phone that was sat in your pocket. Your eyes widen at the time. Two hours?!

Two hours had gone by and you could have finished this resume. You couldn't have wished for anything better, or worse? Todoroki Shouto was asleep on you, but you needed to finish this resume.

"Todoroki-"

"Shouto."

"Uh- Alright then. Shouto, I have to get this resume done."

He grumbled and geld onto you tighter, looking up at you, oh lord, he was adorable. Looking up at you with his opposite coloured eyes and pouting ever so slightly.

"Just do it in here."

"Ok then."

Why would you want to argue with him like that? You felt a sense of pity because he was sick, but also because he actually wanted you to stay with him? Your living a dream that you so desperately don't want to end. Maybe if he was well this would send you head over heels.

***

"Hey Todoroki! Where's [Your Name]?" Mina asks with her usual bubbly attitude, staring up at the taller boy with her 'raccoon eyes' as others have said.

Todoroki looks up from the book he was writing in, locking eyes with Mina, Asui was standing next to her with her frog-like tongue sticking out as he responded, scratching the side of his neck.

"She's not feeling well."

"What?!" Mina exclaims, her hands coming to the top of her pink curls quickly as she looked shocked. "She didn't even go anywhere! How did she get sick?"

"She came to visit me when I was sick." He replied back in a monotone speech and got back to writing whatever was on the board. Not knowing how excited Mina looked when she turned to Asui and giggled running off.

'Did I say something wrong?'

—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–——–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—

This story is officially FINSIHED! I know I definitely lost some sort of motivation towards the end, I hate slowburns but I do say so myself. This is alright.

Will be proofread later!

Thank you for all the support I have been getting! d=(^o^)=b

#mha #mha headcanons #mha x reader #mha fluff #shouto todoroki #shoto todoroki #shoto x reader #todoroki x y/n #todoroki x you #todoroki x reader #shouto x reader #bnha shouto

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getinthefuckingcarkitten · 1 day

Text

Ok now i'm thinking about Robin again bc of that post... And Robin and my PC's relationship.

Like imagine you have a friend. She's your best friend in the whole world. You grew up together and have always been there for each other. You were never as brave as her who kept picking fights on your behalf, but you were the only one who could give her some comfort, who ever even really saw that tough girl cry. As you guys grew up, though, things started to change.

You have always slept in the same bed and cuddled up together, right? But now it feels so different. You notice your heart speeds up when she hugs you. One day you wake up and she's staring at you in a way that makes you blush and hold her tighter to hide your face.

You know she'll always protect you and pick fights on your behalf just like when you were kids, though, so for a while you hide it when things get bad. You have to make money so you sell your most beloved belongings. She notices and for a moment you fear she's going to do something stupid, but she just takes on your burden and happily tells you you don't have to worry anymore.

You realize you're in love with her. You might always have been in love with her. You think about all your moments together, and wonder if she could feel the same.

When you decide to tell her, though, she shows up with a girlfriend. A scrawny girl from her English class who everyone avoids at the hallways.

"She's bullied a lot." Your friend says, showing her savior complex. "I had to help her."

"Did you have to date her, though?" You try not to let the jealousy show in your voice. "I mean, do you even like her?"

Your friend stays quiet, and that's the end of the conversation as she presses to load your save on Castlevania. You don't mention her girlfriend again.

Then, she starts showing up a bit later to the class you have together. She's always at the library, and you naively hoped that she had just been picking up her studies since she had always been a slacker. Key word, naively. Once the librarian's assistant kisses her cheek on her way out of the canteen, you snap. You leave her behind and don't even care when her weird, jealous girlfriend slips on your table and starts clinging to your friend. You just go to your class, pretending none of this is real.

That doesn't last, and you knew it wouldn't. She knocks on your door at night, looking weary from her waitressing job and saying she was worried you wouldn't let her in.

"She's a friend." She explains, talking about the librarian's assistant. "Like, come on, you know how religious she is. She wouldn't even look at me that way..."

You don't buy it, but you find it strange that she's bringing it up to you. You ask her why she's even explaining herself, and for the first time in forever, you see her hesitate.

Then, she kisses you. It could have been the best day of your life, and it briefly was, but then you remember she still has a girlfriend. She tells you that the note you put in her room and then took away as soon as you came back from school, she read it. She knows how you feel, and she feels the same. She was just afraid of it seeming like she was taking advantage of your reliance on her. You could cry, then.

It's only after you two let out all of the tension that had been building up inside of you both for years that she shatters your world.

"I'm not breaking up with her." She tells you, no longer hesitating after you ask if her girlfriend isn't going to be upset if they break up. At your flabbergasted expression, she continues. "She needs me."

"What about me?" You allow yourself to be selfish again. Don't you need her?

"...You know me." She smiles weakly. "You're always first to me. But... I can't let people push her around again. I just can't."

You wonder how having her tongue deep inside that girl's throat does anything to stop the bullies, but you don't have the courage to say it with your chest. You've never been as brave as her. That's the end of the conversation, and you know you'll ruin it, the thing you've dreamed of for so long, if you push your luck too far.

So you try to make amends. You can have her every day, most of the time, you try to remind yourself, and her so-called girlfriend only clings to her for a few minutes during lunch time. That's bearable. You can do it. You can do it to sleep with her every night, to kiss her every morning. Keeping that girl safe is important to her, so you bear it even if you don't get it.

So you bear it. You bear it when she definitely seems much closer to the librarian's assistant now, as they leave you to stare at her girlfriend stab food with a fork during lunch and then you see them in hallway as they giggle with their arms intertwined, sharing a milkshake like you used to do with her. You even bear it when she starts getting friendlier with that one bully who has always made your lives hell. And you bear it as you see her girlfriend taking your place in her bed as you try to slip into her room, knowing you can't say anything about it.

You wish you could stop, but it's all you can do. She still gives you strength, she tells people off when they make fun of you for dressing like a boy (like yourself, you try to say, even if no one listens), she protects you from worse threats on the daily. Bearing it is maybe the least you can do.

You turn your anger outwards. The first time you hit someone with a book for giving her pain, she looks at you differently. Maybe that was what you were missing all along. When you slip into her room that night, she seems much eager to have your body as close as possible to her own.

You stare at the little owl her girlfriend gave her, and disgust that can only be washed away by her sweet kisses fills your mouth. You really wish you didn't have to bear it, especially not in your own home. You wish that creepy girl had to be the one to see the person she loved clinging to someone else, for a change.

Ah, yes, how you wish she'd see it.

#i got possessed to write this #@dolxiba this is ur fault. btw #dol robin #ronnie the prince #dolgl

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thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 1 day

Note

Do you think Tom getting Hagrid expelled was probably the best thing to happen to him? Because, assuming the Chamber of Secrets fiasco never happened, Aragog would have got out of Hagrid's trunk and he would have killed someone eventually.

It was probably pretty clear to everyone that Hagrid didn't open the Chamber and Aragog didn't attack anyone, as why would a Acromantula petrify a bunch of students and kill only one without eating any of them? Hell, Acromantula's can't even petrify people, so Aragog's clearly not the culprit. But, they were just the covenient scapegoat to make it seem like they were doing something.

It must have been pretty easy to justify Hagird remaining on school grounds as gamekeeper since he was just the fall guy and to everyone else the real culprit must have either got cold-feet after Myrtle's death or got killed themself by whatever monster they were using since the attacks stopped after that.

But, without the Chamber opening, Aragog would have no doubt escaped sooner or later and would have made lunch out of some poor little first-year. If that happened, Hagrid would have probably ended up in Azkaban.

There's a lot to unpack here.

What I Think is the Going Theory By People

At first, it looked like a prank, a very terrifying and unsettling prank but a prank. Someone rights blood on the walls that The Chamber of Secrets is Open, Enemies of the Heir Beware. And just. What the fuck.

The prank continues to get worse as several students are petrified. However, there's a key thing there, they are petrified and not killed. Petrification is a terrible but very reversable process with no after effects going by what we see in canon. It's just a pain in the fucking ass and you better hope you have enough mandrakes on hand or else it'll take for fucking ever to order them all.

Because of that, while it is terrifying and harmful, it's not quite the same as say when Katie Bell was cursed by the amulet in HBP where she had to go to an intensive ward in the hospital for months.

It still I imagine for most people falls in the realm of 'really stupid, dangerous, awful, what the fuck prank that some pureblood idiot thinks is funny'.

I imagine there's increasing speeches of "please knock this the fuck off whoever is doing this" at dinner in the Great Hall from Dippet and him only getting blank stares in response as the vast majority of students is not the ones doing it.

I'm sure like in canon people outside Slytherin blamed the most Pureblood Slytherin they could find (like how Harry assumed it was Malfoy at first), Dumbledore blamed Tom because he always does/he knows Tom is the Heir of Slytherin in actuality and that there might very well be a Chamber of Secrets or even if there isn't Tom would sure use the mantle if he ever found out about it, and I have my thoughts for what the Slytherin's thought but that's another post for another day.

Then a girl dies and suddenly this isn't a prank. There's a period of panic when the school is considered being shut down by the board, maybe there really is a Chamber of Secrets, and then they find a likely culprit, Rubeus Hagrid who has an Acromantula wandering around the school and has a history of bringing in extremely dangerous creatures into the school.

The thing is, I think most people at the time, and even later (barring those we see in canon who for their own reasons do not believe this) think it was Hagrid and a no brainer.

He has a creature whose bite causes death wandering about the halls and then shock of all shocks a student dies. True, while Acromantulas don't petrify, it's entirely possible that the petrifications/blood on the walls wasn't Hagrid and an unrelated stupid Pureblood prank. Added to this we don't seem to get much of a sense of forensic investigations/autopsies when it comes to wizarding world crimes (note that crime scene investigations is never really mentioned and there's only Aurors who come up whose job is just to catch dangerous Dark Wizards, not figure out what the hell happened at a place). So, I'm not sure that they could conclusively say what Myrtle had or had not died from/if they did an autopsy. For that matter, I don't know if it's common enough knowledge of what death by Acromantula looks like in a body after X hours have passed.

It's also not clear, I'm sure to most people given that Hagrid seems to be a pioneer of studying creatures, how Acromantula's feed and how they behave. Do we know that Acromantulas under threat don't poison their victims then scamper away? Do they always bite to feed? Since we know the spiders are sapient this has an extra layer of spice as well--humans certainly don't always kill to feed.

Which makes the defense of Hagrid of "but Acromantulas don't cause petrification!" or "An Acromantula would definitely eat that person it came across and never kill them in any other circumstance" very thin.

I imagine it depends who you ask but there's probably a few prevalent theories on how this all fits together:

Hagrid's spider killed Myrtle, but the blood and the petrifications were an unrelated stupid prank and no one wants to stick their nose into it after a girl died. After Hagrid's arrested/the death, all of it stops anyway so let's not think about it.

Hagrid's spider killed Myrtle and Hagrid had prepared for this eventuality by writing blood on the walls and petrifying students via some other method left and right so that people would think it was a Pureblood Slytherin. Hagrid has notably had run-ins with Slytherins before (see Tom noting the werewolf cubs under the bed/presumably having clashes with Hagrid) and it's possible he already resented them and that this was a ploy to frame someone else for murder/the spider's activities.

Hagrid was innocent! Someone else unrelated used some other monster that then never struck again and was never seen again and was never found in fifty years since to kill Myrtle and petrify those students! Sure, Hagrid has a bad history of bringing in dangerous creatures, doesn't get along great with other students who keep narking on him, and has been quite isolated and admittedly resentful of Slytherins but he's innocent! Because he's a good person who'd never harm a fly! (Except that there's the possibility this was unwitting manslaughter because Hagrid was letting a spider roam the halls)

I don't think anyone thinks Hagrid's actually the Heir of Slytherin or that the Chamber of Secrets even really exists. There might be some, but they'd be considered very stupid.

He has a creature whose bite causes death wandering about the halls and either the petrifications/blood was an unrelated prank from someone who was very unfunny or else Hagrid did it to cover up for himself/out of gleeful preparation for when his spider finally did kill someone. I imagine it depends who you ask, some will think Hagrid only did the death, some will think he did the whole Chamber of Secrets thing as well.

I imagine several don't even believe the Chamber existed or was opened at all but that Hagrid was definitely 100% guilty.

That is, unless you're Dumbledore, in which case it was that fucker Tom Riddle and you know it, you know it in your bones, you can smell it in the air, you just can't fucking prove it. But one day, Tom. One day.

Was Hagrid a Scapegoat/Was it Clear He Didn't Do it?

Honestly, I don't think he was. I think they honestly and truly believed that he was the one responsible because of what's outlined above. Added to the fact that arresting him caused it all to stop when the spider disappeared... it's not a good look.

A scapegoat is one thing, but very important people's children all go to Hogwarts, and people like the Blacks, the Malfoys, so on and so forth don't want a scapegoat they want this stopped. If it was just Dippet appeasing them then I imagine there'd be a lot more pushback for investigation. I think the Board of Governors believes it was Hagrid as well as does the Wizengamot at large.

So, no, not a scapegoat, they 100% thought he did it.

Similarly, I think pretty much everyone except Dumbledore believed Hagrid was responsible. No, it wasn't obvious that Hagrid didn't do it (for much the reason it wasn't obvious to Harry and Ron after Riddle told them. Harry didn't want to believe Riddle, Hagrid's so nice, but it... tracks...)

The them getting killed themselves by the monster is... well... who is missing aside from Myrtle? And why would that stop the monster from rampaging? The spider's gone and we know it's gone so kind of makes sense that everything stopped when the spider's gone.

Was it Hard to Hire Hagrid?

I imagine it was actually quite difficult for Hagrid to be hired on as assistant groundskeeper. I think what saved him there was Dumbledore really going to bat with him for Dippet using the "this poor orphan boy with no prospects and I personally think he isn't responsible for reasons I can't get into because no one will ever believe me" and Dippet feeling sympathy and telling himself "okay, Hagrid had his wand snapped, he is an orphan with no prospects who will starve if we don't employ him here, and his supervisors can keep an eye on him to make sure he doesn't do anything".

I imagine a lot of the students and the Board of Governors were very leery of Hagrid being hired/in proximity of the students but some combination of Dippet and Dumbledore brushed that under the rug.

By the time we get to canon enough time has passed, enough has happened, that people have kind of forgotten about this as shown by it not being discussed until the Aurors arrive for Hagrid because "wow Hagrid, this is exactly like fifty years ago, you're still here, and we have you on record saying things like 'all Slytherins are evil at birth', are we doing this again, Hagrid?"

Would Hagrid Have Ended Up in Azkaban if the Spider Had Killed Someone?

Honestly, I don't think anything would have changed from what happened in canon. Because this is what people thought happened.

If there was no Chamber of Secrets debacle and this just randomly happened I think Dumbledore would still go to bat for Hagrid and get him the groundskeeping job (as it seems Dumbledore must have covered for Hagrid in the past). Dumbledore would probably blame Tom Riddle or else quietly admit it was probably Hagrid but Hagrid's just so sweet and it was clearly an accident.

Given that this is exactly what the Wizengamot/greater Wizarding World thought happened, I think Hagrid would be given the same punishment of expulsion and wand snapping, probably because it's manslaughter and he's a minor.

It was only when we went for round 2, fifty years later when Hagrid's an adult and it's looking very purposeful/not like manslaughter, that Hagrid got his stint in Azkaban.

And at this fucking point--

Well, @therealvinelle and I have an @rankheresy episode planned. I'll just leave it there.

#harry potter #harry potter meta #harry potter headcanon #the chamber of secrets #rubeus hagrid #anti rubeus hagrid #meta #headcanon #opinion

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jooba · 21 hours

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wolfman x reader

"Imagine getting the great news that you're one of a million civilians chosen to go to a distant planet, to intermingle with the local aliens. Unfortunately, your online friend doesn't exactly seem to like that idea."

TW: MDNI, reader referred to as 'girl', sexual desires, anxiety, neurodivergent reader, reader big dumb, licking, 'virgin' reader, hand appreciation

wordcount: 2,388

Three words: Civilian Space Program. The most incredible opportunity of a lifetime (for an average Joe like you).

One word: Congratulations! The letter you held in your shaking hands almost didn’t seem real. It was glossy, professional, and signed by someone so important that it was a 100% probability that you would never breathe the same air as them. Congratulations! But it was real, and your life would never be the same. You were going to space. To meet aliens. Your poor little heart almost couldn’t take it. Breath labored, you quickly snapped a picture of the letter before posting it to all of your socials. Quickly, friends and family bombarded you with questions and excitement, just as in disbelief as you are. Several phone calls later, and plenty of assurances to those with concerns, you fell back onto your couch, still clutching the letter. In just a month, you would be boarding a vessel with 14 other civilians, shipped off to the planet Geron 6GI, and left there for 3 years to “create relations” and “cultivate a human lifestyle”. Whatever that means. All you knew was that you… were a monsterfucker… and… well… aliens are sort of like monsters too.

In your elation, you nearly missed the newest comment on your Instagram post. It was Peter, an online friend whom you had known for years. It simply said, “call me.” Peter knew about the program and how badly you wanted to be in it, but he was pretty adamant that your chances were too low. Smiling, you dialed his number. He answered on the first ring, speaking before you had a chance to.

“This is serious? You’re serious?”

“Of course! I’m freaking out, Peter. I’m going to SPACE. I’m going to fuck so many aliens, you don't even know. Well, you do know, but-”

“You’re leaving in a month?” He asked. You kicked your legs in glee, squealing.

“Yep! 3 years in space and depending on how the program goes it might go on for longer. God, should I bring my toys? Do you think they’ll even be allowed on the flight? But what if the aliens have toys that I can buy…” Your breath hitched just at the thought. There was silence on his end for a few moments.

“You’re a virgin.” Cheeks turning red, you scoffed into your phone.

“So what?”

“So you’re giving yourself away to some random alien?” He hissed the word lowly, talking in a manner you had never heard from him before. You take a second to collect your thoughts, not understanding where his aggression is coming from.

“Peter… we live in the 21st century. Virginity is a stupid construct. Besides, I uh... I’m not really a virgin, you know.”

“What?”

“Ugh, can we not talk about this? So embarrassing…” You mumble, turning to a more comfortable position on the couch. There was silence as both of you struggled with what to say next. It wasn’t like you were actually embarrassed talking about sexual things, but Peter had a way of making your stomach flutter. It was awful having a mini crush on someone online, and even worse when he insisted on hearing all the details of your life. All the details.

“I’m going to come see you.” He said, sighing into the phone. You froze, blinking in surprise. The two of you had never met in real life before, you’ve never even seen a picture of him! Sometimes, you would discuss meeting, but he lived a long flight away and schedules never seemed to work out. Over time, the thought of seeing him in person became too daunting, and you always shot him down. What if he thought you were too ugly to be friends with? What if the two of you couldn’t get along in person, and he lost interest?

“A-are you sure, Peter?” You could hear the smile in his voice as he responded.

“Of course.”

You stood nervously in the airport, shifting back and forth. People kept glancing at you, giving you curious glances. Avoiding eyes with an old troll whose beard desperately needed maintenance, you wiped the sweat from your face with your sleeve. Maybe you’d be less nervous if you had brought a friend with you to pick up Peter… Your phone buzzed with a text.

landing now

You watch as the terminal quickly fills up with tired travelers. Eyes swiping back and forth from person to person, you attempt to pick out a man to match Peter’s description of himself. But his description was so vague, all you really knew was that apparently he was tall and had brown hair.

Someone bumps into you, and your phone clatters to the ground. They quickly apologize but scurry away too quickly for you to get a good look at them. Grumbling, you bend down to pick up your phone, dusting it off and checking for cracks. When your eyes lift, your heart explodes in surprise at the wolfman standing before you. Hot! Inner you squeals. Standing nearly two heads taller than you, he’s lean and dressed very cleanly. Chestnut-colored fur streaks around his cheeks and neck, speckled with darker colors around his hairline and dipping underneath his shirt. Black eyes peer at you, squinting slightly.

“Oh, um. Hi!” You laugh nervously, tugging at your hair. “Just dropped my phone.” You wave your phone in front of you, but then quickly tuck it away when you realize how dumb you probably looked. The wolfman’s mouth slowly curls up into a predatory smile, top lip slightly gaped to allow for pointy fangs to peek through.

“You’re cute,” he says quietly, eyes appraising your figure. You have to desperately ignore the urge to cover yourself from his evaluating gaze. You laugh weakly.

“T-thanks.” You give him a small smile. The two of you stare at each other for a moment. He hikes his backpack up over his shoulders, raising one eyebrow at you. Does he want something from you…? Oh god. Despite his good looks, it’s not the best time to be flirting with someone: not when you’re waiting for Peter.

“I’m sorry. I’m.. uh… picking up a friend. Sorry.” You glance away from him, pretending to search the crowd for Peter. Why is he taking so long?

The wolfman grumbles with quiet laughter, almost a mixture of a purr and low-pitched whine. It's a rather charming sound. Suddenly, his clawed hand is on your scalp, rubbing against your hair to mess it up. He tugs certain strands this way and that, causing an absolute mess. You gasp, pulling away, quickly attempting to fix the mess he just made.

“You’re even denser in person than I thought you would be,” he says, looking extremely satisfied at your misery. His ears twitch slightly. You pause, squinting up at him in irritation.

“Well, that’s rude. And please don’t touch my hair, I don’t know you.” You take a step back away from him in caution just to be safe.

The wolfman huffs, rolling his eyes slowly. “That’s the thing. You do know me.” He pulls his phone out, and types onto it quickly, before looking at you expectantly. Your phone buzzes. A message from Peter.

right in front of you. so dense.

You can’t quiet the gasp that leaves your mouth in time. You gape up at him, astonished.

“You never told me you were a wolfman!?!”

Heart racing, you bring your knuckle up to your mouth and light chew on a finger. All these years, all the calls and long talks and he never thought to mention his species?! Oh god, you have said so many embarrassing things to him: things you would never say to a non-human. Things about giant monster cocks and clawed hands and fluffy sensitive ears and oh my GOD. You swear heat is steaming out of your ears with how embarrassed you are.

“Didn’t think it mattered,” he shrugs. He reaches up to lightly scratch at one fluffy ear, maintaining eye contact with you. It twitches at his touch, apparently sensitive. You want to coo and squeal at how cute it is, but you restrain, just barely. Gnawing on your finger, you avert your eyes. You must not look at the handsome wolfman. Must resist. Must get Peter home without drowning in your drool…

One car ride home, hours of gentle ribbing and teasing, a desperate call to the nearest fast food joint, and a change into pajamas later, you find yourself sitting on your couch, a bowl of popcorn in hand, waiting patiently for Peter to join you. He’s taking a long time in the bathroom, but you’re not too worried. It seemed your apartment was a bit too small for him, and he was constantly ducking his head and squeezing past your furniture. Admittedly, it was really charming. You can’t help but shovel popcorn into your face as you wait. You can’t wait too long, otherwise the popcorn will get stale! In the middle of licking your fingers free from butter and salt, Peter plops down next to you. You slide down the couch and end up sitting right against you. He wraps an arm around you on the couch, hands already playing with your hair. He’s dressed in loose pajama pants and a t-shirt that says ‘You are fang-tastic!’ in faded letters.

“Really couldn’t wait for me, huh.” You smile in embarrassment, pulling your fingers out of your mouth. His dark eyes quickly zero in on your glistening fingers. Grimacing, you go to wipe them on your pants, but his hand wraps around your wrist before you can. You immediately notice how much bigger his hand is than yours, and how fur wraps around his knuckles but his fingers and palm are bare.

“Let me,” he purrs, eyes drooping into half lids. He opens his mouth and a long, pink tongue rolls out. It’s rounded at the end and fades into a slight purple the further back it gets. You’re instantly drawn to it and watch in stunned silence as he brings your fingers up to his mouth. He licks a long stripe up your fingers before twisting and turning them to lap at every inch. Quickly, your fingers become drenched in hot saliva. You clench your thighs, wishing he would put that tongue somewhere else… A soft noise leaves you, and he meets your eyes again. You mentally berate yourself for having dirty thoughts about your friend. He nips gently at your pointer finger. You squeak and pull your hand away, face certainly red. You hold your hand to your chest limply, now drenched in saliva. You blink at him, words caught in your throat.

“Mmm… tastes good.” Right. Good popcorn. Ha ha… ha… The TV blares and the two of you startle at the noise. Peter is quick to grab the remote and mute it. He watches the quiet television for a moment, throat bobbing.

“Let’s talk for a moment, space girl.” His voice is almost... uncertain. You grin unabashedly at the nickname, pleased. It immediately calms you down and you find yourself relaxing.

“Sure!” You place the popcorn down and turn on the couch, facing him directly. He turns to face you as well, one leg crossing over the other. The arm around the back of the couch begins to tap on the cushion.

“Just let me talk for a moment, no interruptions, okay?” He raises an eyebrow when you open your mouth to respond, and you huff, but stay quiet.

“Honestly, I thought I was being pretty straightforward with you all this time, but with this space fiasco, I knew you weren’t exactly getting the message. Had to talk to you face-to-face. I’ll make this short and sweet, easy to understand. I don’t want you going to space.” He raises one hand when you look like you are about to object. Breathing deeply, he continues.

“Don’t go to space. Stay here. I’ll give you all the monster cock you want, promise… I’m not usually one to wait so long, but I knew during our first call I would have to take it slow with you. I’ve been biding my time all these years, slowly getting to know you, waiting for my chance. And then I saw your post. When I saw that, it left me ‘peterified’.” He chuffs at his joke, pleased.

“So yeah, I’ve got feelings for you. And a lot of them revolve around ramming my cock down your throat. Or god, knotting you,” he sighs wistfully as he speaks. He looks like he wants to say more, but stops himself.

Ho….ly…. SHIT! You’re frozen on the spot, mind racing with a thousand dirty thoughts. You’ve dreamt of this moment, dreamt of a monster desiring you. And now…now you’re presented with an opportunity.

“F-forget space! Oh my god. Peter? Peter!” You’re squealing now, your body shaking with excitement. You stand up and begin pacing, not even really aware of what you’re doing. Peter relaxes on the couch, mouth tilted up in a sly smile.

“This is crazy. Are you serious? He’s serious. I-I need to shave! And prep! Oh god, I don’t know if I’m ready for this…” You bite at your finger nervously, the beginnings of nausea twisting your stomach. Who knew that aching and wanting something for so long would have you feeling so sick?

Peter tugs at your hand, slowing your pacing.

“You’re getting ahead of yourself, you nut. Just breathe.” He breathes in deeply, and you copy him instinctually. He guides your breath into something much slower, much more manageable. You smile at him gratefully, falling onto the couch.

“Sorry, this is just… a lot,” you sigh out. He shakes his head.

“Not at all. Just take it easy.” He nudges your knee with his. “Just think about it, yeah?” You nudge him back, eyes twinkling.

“So, all this time you’ve…” you question. He simply nods his head.

“But you didn’t even know what I looked like?” You're surprised when his face starts to turn a gentle shade of red. He coughs into his fist, looking away. He speaks, in a cool tone that doesn’t match his cheeks, “Yeah, I knew right from the start. Your looks are just a plus.”

Aaand now you’re looking away, embarrassed.

“Oh, okay,” you mumble.

#suggest TW #monster fucker #wolfman x reader #monster x reader #sorry #hmmm should i write more for Peter?#x reader #not a werewolf #MDNI #monster/alien/human society #not proofread #its 2 am

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goodluckclove · 11 hours

Text

Various "Failures" From My Google Docs

Good morning! I'm at my usual coffee shop and got inspired by the troubles of a few friends to embarrass myself.

Sit down with me. I'm enjoying my usual blended chai. There's room on the couch if you'd like to join me.

So I've written thirteen novels. I think thirteen, I've actually lost count. Let's say, like, five full-length plays and twelve to fourteen finished novels. Impressive, right? Maybe. I'm realizing that I consider that not much of a brag, if only because I know the amount of trips and stumbles it took to get to one completed project.

I've ditched a lot of ideas. A lot. If I need to I can dig into my old hard drives to find all the doc files from my youth, but I also have the same Google Docs I've had since middle school.

It's mostly plays and ghostwriting assignments, but if you did you'll find some snippets from my constant attempts at growth.

Some stuff like this is okay. The line "hair slicked back/suit black silk" is pretty good, but a little too the writer thinks they're clever for me now. I don't really remember where I planned to go with this. I think the narrator was somehow going to be given the identity of Roy Fontaine. I was really fixated on the surname Fontaine at the time. I don't know why.

But then there's also a lot of stuff like this:

Hey look it's Fontaine again! I guess he's a doctor, too! Also I am astounded by how casually the main character just pulls out the Necronomicon. He pulls it out? From where? His pocket? Is it a zine?

I don't know why, but something about how suddenly this jumps in terms of dropping specifics makes me think that Sonic the Hedgehog is about to show up. I can't explain it.

This is the only thing in a Doc titled "Psychosis". I have zero memory of what I was planning on doing with this. What's kind of crazy though is that I wrote this in 2014, and six years later I'll use essentially this exact bit in a finished novel without even realizing it.

Another bit from 2014. No clue what I planned to do with this. It's hilarious to me that something stopped me from finishing the sentence. What am I, Franz Kafka writing The Tower? I didn't die. I wasn't raptured. I just apparently tried to think of something a large oak door would do and immediately gave up. It was 2014 I had finished, like, four novels. And this idea was fully stalled by what had to be a fucking huge oak door.

My favorite part of this radio play I tried to write is that somehow, believe it or not - when I wrote this I did not fully understand the Quantum Suicide thought experiment. And for along time I still kind of thought that this could be salvaged into a good idea, until last night when I asked my wife to put on a video describing the experiment and I immediately found it so dumb. Just ridiculously stupid. The only good thing about Quantum Mickey is that the title kicks ass and I'm definitely keeping it for something.

I've written a lot. A lot. I've earned the severity of carpal tunnel I currently have. If I had to put it into a statistic, I'd say maybe seventy percent ends up finished. fifty percent ends up polished to be read or published. Thirty percent actually ends up being read or published. I'm okay with this, because I enjoy the work. But for me, part of enjoying the work is not panicking when a project doing work.

If I need to end a project in the middle of a sentence, I do. I've clearly proven that I do. Sometimes I write for thirty pages and lose interest, other times I get a paragraph in and get distracted forever. That's okay.

That's okay. As long as you're doing something.

I could've included segments of Carnation, my first novella that was supposed to be a novel but I never finished it. But I fucking guess that's getting it's own post when I hit 150 followers so I hope you're prepared for what the type of stuff I enjoyed in middle school.

There's an Irish child that speaks exclusively in slang. You aren't ready.

#writeblr #writing community #on writing #writers on tumblr #authors of tumblr #writing #writing advice #writing tips #writing inspo #writing inspiration

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buddieisgoingcanon2024 · 1 day

Note

I hope this doesn’t come across negatively but probably more realistic with a lot of hope, but I don’t think we’ll get too many more hints of buddie this season.

Also buckle up fellow buddies as this is a long post!!

I think some of the scenes where Tommy says Chris loved Buck and that he’d never come between them alongside dialogue about ‘jumping ship’ and Eddie wanting to scrap relationships and ‘hang with the boys’ are supposed to keep the coming out arc Buck centric whilst also leaving Easter eggs for future buddie.

However I think there are a few things that will mean we won’t see much progress until maybe even the second half of season 8:

1. Whilst as a queer person I hate to say this, I do see execs saying no to two characters who to the GA have only been straight presenting so far coming out as queer being an issue at least to do so close together. However, I fully think the show has backed itself into a corner and see it being endgame but definitely not this season or early next.

2. I think the catholic guilt story line is the perfect way for Tim to keep an Eddie coming out story alive in the background. I can see them keeping Eddie single while playing out that arc on things outside of his sexuality until they get a go ahead. (I do also think they might do a Demi sexual and asexuality spectrum sort of thing for Eddie which could be cool as they’ve only had him canonically sleep with 2/3 women and so could pull off a story line where Eddie hadn’t realised his feelings for Buck because he doesn’t understand his own sexual attraction and romantic attraction)

3. Realistically Lou is likely to have less and less time available for 911, I also don’t think they’ve introduced him with enough back story (plus glossing over the not so nice bits which means they can’t even bring that back up) to be more than the usual LI. I also do think it would be great to see his and bucks relationship play out and end amicably to really cement a change in Buck. I think they’re setting him up for Buck to learn a lot from him and I think it 100% fits Buck’s character for him to not be endgame with the first man he dates.

4. I think they’ve dug themselves a hole and buddie is the only way out. Tim admitted that he felt Buck was stuck in a hamster wheel and this arc was part of his way out. I would argue that Eddie’s character is getting there too. He tries a relationship, it fails (for honestly such stupid reasons lol) and then he has this whole ‘are romantic relationships even worth it’ attitude for seasons at a time.

5. Almost all long term arcs seem like they’re going to be ending this season. Henren adopting, Madney getting married, Bibuck finally no longer stuck on a hamster reel. I can see them making someone like Ravi a main (to and then starting buddie as a long term arc next year.

I’m so glad we got bi buck but let’s be honest, the hints for some sort of sexuality arc for Eddie have been way stronger. Lou already said that the original arc was for Eddie which shows that they think they’ve left enough easter eggs for it to make complete sense. They could have stuck Buck with a woman as endgame and denied all bisexual hints and the GA would’ve bought it because Buck always chases relationships. But I think they’d really struggle to do the same for Eddie.

That was a great long ask. Thanks anon. Those are awesome points you’ve made as well.

#buddie #oliver stark #ryan guzman #eddie diaz #evan buck buckley #911 on abc

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levi501ackerman · 8 hours

Text

Living In A Dream | Levi x Reader Pining

Levi x Reader Pining

Summary: Levi refuses to date a subordinate so instead he pines over you. Kind of ridiculous how much he overthinks every interaction with you.

Word Count: 2.6k

Author's Note: Song that I correlate this one shot is "Dream Girl" by Crisaunt if you were wondering. In all writing, I typically get hung up on a lyric or a rhythm thing. 2nd fic. posted: 4/17/24. Writing more.

Levi and the other section commanders sat at a table dining and chattering about the new scouts. Erwin was discussing, negotiating, and dividing the recruits under different leaders. A few went to Levi, some under Miche, and some to Hange.

The scout regiment was having dinner and he was looking around the room for you. He noticed that you have not come in yet. You usually were with Sasha, Jean, and Connie and they were not at dinner yet. Sasha, Jean, and Connie were moved to Levi’s special operations squad. Honestly, he was worried that you would be placed in his squad. Levi felt that if you were his subordinate, he wouldn’t be able to focus or speak clearly.

When you were around, he was too nervous that he might say something that made him seem stupid. The few times you talked to him, he stuttered and felt embarrassed. Levi could not help but look at you all the time. He could not help but search for you during mealtime or outside. He thought you were pretty cute when you would laugh with Sasha, Jean, and Connie. He also thought it was cool how you could make a whole table laugh. He felt it was wrong to find you extremely attractive. Levi pondered about possibly asking you out if you became a squad leader or section commander.

The first time he heard of you, was when Hange showed Levi and Erwin a hilarious comic drawing you drew. The comic was being passed around and shown amongst the scouts getting a little laugh from others. It was funny and relatable to being a scout.

“A new scout drew this,” Hange said to Levi and Erwin. The drawing made Erwin chuckle and he passed it to Levi who slightly smiled.

“Who was the scout?” Erwin asked.

“I think her name is Y/N,” Hange said and pointed to the open field where the scouts were hanging out. “That’s her over there next to Sasha and Christa.” Erwin and Levi glanced in your direction. Levi noticed your hair and then your laugh, then you pushing Sasha. Who shoved you back and the girls laughed at whatever. Your smile is what drew him in.

You had a great smile and the few times you smiled at him when speaking he would forget what he was saying. Then he recalled and then stuttered out his words. When Levi noticed the confusion on your face it made his face hotter. You never pointed it out or asked if he was okay which made him think you were kind enough to ignore his embarrassment.

The other time you made him really nervous was the day he wore a dark green shirt. Levi barely wore green unless it was the scout cape. But he did that day. Hange and Levi were walking by you and you pleasantly greeted them.

“Hi Hange, hi Levi,” you said brightly.

“Hi Y/N!” Hange greeted back.

“Levi, I’ve never seen you wear that shirt before,” you started and Hange smiled and looked at Levi, “green is your color.” You and Hange smiled and looked intently for Levi’s reply. He was taken aback by the compliment. When was the last time he heard a compliment about his appearance? He thought that maybe you found him attractive. Though did you really say anything about his looks? Then he remembered that you pointed out that you had never seen him wear this shirt before. Which he came to the conclusion that you may have been watching him as well? Which could mean you liked him. He knows that people do that when they find others attractive. Levi looked at you a lot when you’re not looking. Possibly you’re observant. Which is a great quality for being a scout. He thought he recalled seeing your file that you scored great during the ODM assessment. He wondered what rank you were. Not that it mattered but he was curious. Then he remembered how the green shirt he was wearing was the shirt he wore on his first expedition. Has Y/N been outside the walls yet? He was trying to recall if he remembered seeing you at all before knowing you as the comic drawer.

“Levi?” Hange asked.

“S-sorry I’m not feeling well. I feel like shit.” As soon as he said that he regretted it because he knows sometimes girls don’t find cussing attractive. If cussing made him unattractive then does him wearing the green shirt level it out? Though you never said you found him attractive. Just that green was his color. But no one owns the color green. But the way you said green was his color could be interpreted as looking good in green. Levi was trying to think about if he ever heard you cussing before. Then he remembered your comic he was trying to remember if any of the captions had a bad word. He couldn’t remember. Maybe he won't cuss in front of you until he hears you cuss. Maybe you cuss sporadically. Or maybe just when you stub your toe. He thought about how you possibly paint your toes. But he won't know because the uniform has boots. If the cape is the same color as his shirt technically he wore green every day. So that could mean that you never look at Levi. But sometimes Levi doesn’t wear his cape. Maybe you meant that the shirt he was wearing was nice. But then again you didn’t say anything about the shirt itself. If green is Levi’s color and he barely wore the green shirt that had to mean you were talking about the cape.

“Oh no, I’m sorry.” You said sweetly.

“No problem,” Levi said back stupidly. After all that Hange and Levi had a moment’s silence while walking away from you. Then Hange softly laughed.

“Levi that was painful to watch.” She said.

“What do you mean?” Levi asked.

“Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Except you couldn’t think straight after Y/N said you looked nice.” Hange nudged Levi. Technically you told him that green was his color. He didn’t want to talk about it at all.

“Really Hange I’m not feeling good.” Levi restated.

“You love sick?” Hange teased.

“No. And no I am not.”

“Well, you were normal until Y/N complimented you,” Hange continued. Levi deflected and brought up a different topic. You did not compliment him though you just said green was his color.

“Lastly F/N L/N,” Erwin said and Levi stopped looking at the dining entrance. “At first, Levi, I put her on your squad but H—”

“Levi I really want her! She seemed really interested in my research! Y/N gets along with Moblit’s and I's work style! Not only that she can draw! She sketched a titan chart for me really well! I saw that Erwin was going to put her on your squad and when I asked if I could have her he said we would have to discuss it! I really want her!” Hange enthusiastically said. Levi felt bittersweet about you not working with Hange and Moblit. He could still have access to you, but not always be around you. His nerves went away.

“Have her,” Levi said.

“THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU!” Hange threw her arms in the air. Levi saw out of the corner of his eye that the entry door opened and his heart rate increased slightly when he saw Sasha. Then Jean. Then Connie. And finally you. You met eyes with Levi and he immediately whipped his head back. Hange, Erwin, Miche, and Moblit all noticed Levi was blushing. He met eyes with Hange who raised her eyebrows twice, playfully. He knew that she knew he was blushing. Levi refused to look at anything besides his tea. “Y/N!” Hange called for you. “Y/N!” She waved you over which you came. Levi thought it would be a good excuse to look at you especially since Hange called you over. So most likely the whole table would be looking at you. He glanced at you and caught your eye again, but this time you looked away. “Guess what!?” Hange exclaimed

“What?” You asked

“You’re in my squad!”

“No way!”

“This is gonna be really great! We’re going to figure out the secrets of the titans together! I really wanted you especially since you told me you were interested in researching the titans! Moblit also enjoys working with you so this is really great!” Hange and Moblit gave you a group hug. You had a big smile on your face. Levi thought about how endearing it was that you and Hange were becoming quite close. He wished you two could be close.

After you left to get food. Levi noticed you also got the mashed potatoes. He liked the mashed potatoes too. You put gravy on yours. Levi did the same too. Cool. Levi saw you say something to Connie and then Jean, Sasha, and Connie all burst out laughing. He wished he heard what you said. He thought about how everyone he sees you with always are enjoying your company.

The following day Levi decided to wear the green shirt and wanted to walk by you so you could see him wearing it. He saw you later in the day with Hange and Moblit on a bench. He thought it would be a great opportunity to approach you because Hange was with you and he knows she could mediate the conversation. You were so pretty because of the way your hair was placed on your shoulders. So cute how focused you were on your research. When Levi approached the three they all looked up and smiled.

“Hey,” Levi said to Hange and Moblit, “hi Y/N.” Hange and Moblit looked at each other knowingly. Then Hange smirked at Levi.

“Hey Levi,” you said.

“How are y-you?” He tried.

“We’re so close to getting somewhere but I keep fucking up my drawing.” You said frustratingly. Levi noted that you did cuss. This meant the time he cussed you must not have cared because you just cussed now. So he can cuss in front of you and you won't find him unattractive. Meaning maybe if he got to know you more and if you worked hard and then you became a section commander one day and you were still alive, then he could ask you out.

“Oh fuck,” he said.

“Yeah I know,” you roll your eyes with frustration.

“NO! Your drawing is great!” Levi vomited out.

“Oh um . . . you haven’t even seen it yet . . .” You said slowly. Then Moblit handed Levi the paper of the start of your drawing. Hange and Moblit were done evaluating the work she had done so far. Levi’s face went red. There’s no explanation for this. You were going to figure out that him showering you with compliments meant he had a crush on you. Which is not good because you are a subordinate and it wouldn’t look good if you two dated. He thought about how well you two would make a cute couple together but what would the others think? Erwin might think Levi is a sleaze for dating someone not in his rank. He thought that some scouts might think you were trying to work your way up to the top. He didn’t want anyone to think poorly of you. Levi didn’t want anyone to think poorly of him. This was just a stupid crush and eventually, he will get over it. He’s an adult he shouldn’t be acting like a schoolgirl with a crush.

“I show Levi all your drawings.” Hange saved the day.

“All . . . two . . . of them?” You questioned not entirely believing Hange. Hange and Levi locked eyes. They panicked. Levi did not know what to add. Hange’s temperature started rising. If Hange said anything that would give you the impression that Levi had a crush on you. Then humanity’s strongest soldier might kill her. Then she wouldn’t be able to be alive to find out where the titans are from. Hange wouldn’t be able to know how they came to be. And Levi could make it look like an accident. Levi could also make it look like she went missing. He used to be a criminal and Levi kills every titan he wants to kill.

“We saw your comic and we kept all the sketches you created the few times you were with us. Everyone thinks your drawings are great. Right, section commander? You shown the leaders all of Y/N’s drawings?” Moblit said.

“Yup,” Hange said quickly.

“Anyways I have to go—um—go. Just wanted to say hi to you—all of you!” Levi walked away. He’s an idiot.

During his meeting with his squad, he did his best to confidently create plans for the next expedition. He was trying to think of all the creative plans he could muster so that he could say it in front of Sasha, Jean, and Connie. Then they would think Levi was smart. They might talk about their day later with you and they could possibly slip in that Levi created a smart plan. He just couldn’t think of a smart thing to offer. Armin was saying all the smart ideas. Levi’s gotta say something smart. Because if he doesn’t then Sasha, Jean, and Connie might only talk about Armin’s smart ideas when they talk about their day with you.

Later in the evening, Levi saw Sasha, Jean, and Connie sitting at their table with friends, but you were nowhere to be found. You must be with Hange and Moblit in her office. Time went by and still you, Hange, nor Moblit showed up. It was getting late and he thought you would think he was kind if he brought food for you. They had mashed potatoes and gravy as a side again. So when Levi was making you a plate. He was sure to put some mashed potatoes and gravy on it. But this time there was beef gravy and turkey gravy. There were two gravies. He stared at both of them. Which one would you like more? The beef gravy was the one available last night. But what if they don’t serve turkey gravy again for a while and you were looking forward to it? Okay. Beef? Yes, it makes the most sense you had some last night. Then Levi thought about if he ever heard you mentioning liking the turkey gravy. Turkey? Seems to come around less often and he didn’t want you to be disappointed with your dinner. Okay, Both. He made sure to put the two gravies in separate little cups so you could choose which one you wanted.

He took the plate to Hange’s office and his hunch was correct. You, Hange, and Moblit were in Hange’s office working.

“Hey, Levi.” You said.

“I—uh—brought you food because you weren’t at dinner.” Okay shit. He just told her that he noticed her not being in the dining hall. Which is going to mean that she knows he’s looking for her and then she’ll—WAIT. When you said he looked good in green you mentioned that you’ve never seen him wear that shirt before. Meaning you were watching him. He just said something like that too . . . She said it first. So she won’t think anything of it? Cool.

“Thank you, Levi!” You said. “You didn’t have to.”

Levi smiled and then looked at Hange who had her arms crossed and her eyebrows raised with a knowingly look. Moblit had the same expression on his face.

“It’s for all you guys!” Levi blurted out.

“Oh um . . . I don’t think there’s enough for us to share.” You said.

“ . . . I brought both gravies,” Levi said.

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seungmoonandstars · 6 hours

Text

𝐼'𝓂 𝓈𝑜𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓈𝓃'𝓉 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒

Kim Seungmin/female reader

wc: 3.1

synopsis: someone is cheating // pt 2

rating: angst/sort of fluff ꩜ -`♡´-

⤜ · · ♡ · · →

Now Seungmin remembers just how lonely he can get

The dorm is silent. It’s late and everyone is asleep, but he didn’t realize just how late it had gotten until he closed the door a little too loudly. He drops his bags and pulls off his clothes as he makes his way to the bed, tossing them and leaving a trail as he goes. Typically, he throws them right into his hamper, or folds them neatly on his chair, but tidyness is far from his mind right now—almost everything is.

But still, his mind is racing. It’s spinning and it’s aching, and his heart is, too. He feels outside of his own body as he replays the last hour in his head, and he just wants to wake up from this nightmare.

Seungmin crashes onto the bed. He hasn’t been here in a few weeks, at least not to sleep, and the bed feels all wrong. The thought of being here, and not where he’s supposed to be breaks him, and his breath catches in his throat as he desperately holds everything back. But it’s too much, and he has to cry. Silently, though—that much he can do. He turns and pushes his face into the pillow and lets go.

A text comes through, and the first thought that runs through his head—it’s you, it has to be. Pleading for forgiveness, and throwing I love you’s in every direction. It’s not until he looks at the screen that he remembers the shattered remains he left on the floor. But you have other ways; your laptop, mainly. If you really wanted to, you could reach him right now with no trouble.

This text is from Jeongin.

min is that you? I didn’t think you’d be here. Everything okay?

As quiet as he was, that was all kind of ruined when he had to blow his nose and breath properly again. And there’s something about a post-cry nose blow that’s just…obvious.

yeah I’m okay

Everything will come out in the morning anyway.

If you say so…we can have a drink and watch something if you want to talk

Jeongin isn’t just perceptive; he knows Seungmin well, and he knows when something is off.

we can talk tomorrow, I should sleep

Seungmin has no hope of sleep tonight.

· · ♡ · ·

The broken phone at your feet blinks pathetically, trying with everything it has to hold on and buzz a text message in. You don’t care, though. You don’t need your phone if Seungmin isn’t texting, or calling, and only realizing that now is your problem. You got complacent—apathetic over the months you’ve been with him. Unbelievably stupid. You’ve ruined the best thing that ever walked into your life. All you can think of now is every word you want and need to say to him, but you can’t.

No, you can. Your laptop is right there, on the coffee table. If anything, you can gather and organize your thoughts, because you can't imagine him wanting to hear from you tonight. Getting him back might be impossible, but this still feels necessary. Sending it off in an email is something morning you will decide on.

Minnie, I’m sorry it’s come this—I’m sorry you have to feel the way you do right now, and I need you to know how much it kills me that you’re hurting. I’m sorry that I’ve done so poorly as your person, something I should be better at by now, that I have to write to you this way just hoping you’ll read it. I’ve failed you, because I should have been stronger, and I should have been there for you when you needed me the most. Not stronger, no, just better…more perceptive and more understanding. I do know how lonely it gets for you, because you have mentioned it before, but I’ve been so selfish for so long. Getting to be yours for the last 2 years has been a dream. I never thought someone as sweet, and funny, and loving, and as beautiful as you would ever come into my life. I won’t try to explain my actions, because there is no explanation. I don’t deserve you, or your forgiveness. I broke your trust. I broke everything. I felt entitled to fix my loneliness when you were suffering with it, too. But you didn’t hurt me. You’ve never hurt me. I want you to know that I love you, though. I love you more than anything. You are irreplaceable and I will suffer without you, because I should.

Three, four times you read through it before deciding to hit send. It can’t wait until you decide to wake up in the morning, because sleeping tonight will be difficult—but crying is exhausting. You doze off for an hour, then jump out of it abruptly for no reason. Panic takes over, and your heart feels like it might explode as you orient yourself in a tangle of sheets. Seungmin isn’t here, and it takes a moment to remember why.

You smack the keyboard of your laptop until it wakes up, and the new email at the top of the pile makes the panic even worse.

RE: (no subject)

Twelve minutes ago.

You click it and brace yourself for more heartbreak; more difficult truth. An end.

· · ♡ · ·

Seungmin does decide to get up and get a soju, but he does it alone. He needs something to help him relax; numb things a little, and make his eyes a little heavier. The time between is spent looking through old messages between him and you, which is not making things better, but Seungmin wants to figure out where things went wrong. He gets as far back as four months of texts when a notification pops up on his phone.

You did exactly what I thought you would, he mumbles to himself. It’s an email, no subject. Before the little banner disappears, he opens it, and he devours every word far too quickly. Seungmin’s heart races and his stomach swirls as he scans each paragraph, and then he immediately goes back and starts again, slowly.

Now he has something more to dwell on. He gets up and heads to the kitchen for another drink, and when he returns, he just starts typing:

I love you, too. Before I say anything else, I want you to know that. I keep reading your email over and over as I type, because my head is a mess and I can’t focus much right now, but your words ground me. They always have. It’s been a while since you’ve given me a hand written letter, and this, of all things, made me miss that. You have a way with words that I just can’t seem to replicate. I’m hurting like I don’t remember ever hurting before. I feel opened up and ripped apart. I feel like I’m not enough, or I wasn’t enough. I was scared of a relationship because of this, I guess. Being away, not being enough, because I know I’m bad at expressing myself sometimes. Most of the time. Not being with you much makes it even harder. So I feel at fault, too. I need to own up to not always being there when you need me, even though it came with our type of relationship. I’m sorry it’s so hard for us to talk like this face to face…or for me to, I guess. I didn’t give you a chance.

· · ♡ · ·

That’s it.

You’re relieved, but you’re not sure if you should reply again. Leaving it at this until morning might be the best option. But what happens in the morning? Does Seungmin come back home? Will he reply if you email him again? Maybe he’ll sleep in late, leave again, leave you waiting for a message just like you did to him. You think back to the last time he was home, and how you weren’t even here because you ignored his text. Not just ignored, but didn’t even look at it to see that he was waiting and wondering why you weren’t there to greet him.

It feels like your heart is being squeezed just imagining his confused face. And then your mind moves to him…the other one, and it makes you sick thinking of him now. It should have done that before. Irreplaceable is exactly what Seungmin is, that was no exaggeration.

Luckily, you fall asleep with his words in your head; the I love you, the possibility of another chance. And your guilt, still, of making him think he hasn’t been enough.

· · ·

There’s hardly a chance to think of replying to Seungmin. You don’t sleep long, because once you’re awake, you’re awake. Showered, dressed, coffee slowly dripping in the glass caraffe. You prep enough in the hopes that he’ll have some, too, but that’s mostly wishful thinking—a desperate attempt at a manifestation.

A reply has been rolling around in your head since last night, and it formed into a solid set of paragraphs as you took your time in the shower, now you just have to sit and hope it comes out just as well. And you do open his email, but instead of typing, you grab a pencil and a piece of stationary from the desk—stationary you bought just for his letters. You haven’t touched them in at least a year.

It actually comes out easier this time.

Seungmin,

Might as well start properly.

You’ve always been enough. I see you struggle every day with balancing your work and your regular life…me, us. I don’t know what that’s like—

The sound of keys makes you stop. The slide of metal against metal as it’s pushed in and turned; every bit of it is so, so loud. You look again at the broken phone on the floor, not forgotten, but not even deserving of a place in the trash can. You couldn’t bring yourself to touch it.

When you look back at him, the first thing he does is find you, and then he looks to the aftermath of his out of character temper. Then back at you.

You set the pencil down and stand, but you don’t take a step toward him. Every part of you screams to be closer, though.

“Hi,” he takes a few steps inside, kicks off his shoes next to yours. “Morning.”

It’s nearly noon, but you can pretend you didn’t stay up and sleep in late. You haven’t had coffee yet, anyway, so that’s what you do—you force yourself to the kitchen and pour a mug, and then you pour the rest over ice for him.

He watches, but looks at what you were working on as he gets closer to the coffee table. You don’t say anything when he picks up the piece of paper and reads it, rereads it. “I got you something,” he says as he places it back on the table.

“Uhm…you did?”

Why would he do that? You don’t feel like you deserve his gifts at the best of times, so you certainly don’t want anything now.

Seungmin digs in the shopping bag and pulls out a little white box, opens it, and then hands you your new phone.

“I was out of line last night, when I…” he looks at it on the floor again, “I’m sorry.”

“No, Minnie…you weren’t, at all”

“You didn’t deserve my anger”

“I did, I needed it. I want it. Please don’t be nice to me.”

“Okay, if you really mean that…” He walks over slowly and picks up his glass, takes a long sip... “I’ve never felt so angry at you before. I didn’t think I could feel like that, honestly. And I was still holding back.”

“I could tell. Part of me wanted you to let go.”

“Let go, let go how? I could never hurt you.” His touch is a relief—the gentle slide of his thumb across your skin, his hand closing softly around your neck. A much different touch than last night. “Phone, yeah. Him, maybe.”

“That person is gone”

“Did it help…did he help? Were you less lonely with him?”

Thinking about it isn’t really necessary, but you take a long moment to look at Seungmin—his eyes are big and wet, and they’re puffy from not getting enough sleep, or crying. Most likely both, though you can only remember seeing Seungmin cry once in the time you’ve known him. And it wasn’t over you.

“No, I wasn’t. I think it was making me feel worse.”

“I’m irreplaceable, right?”

The tease in his voice is obvious, and his little laugh breaks every bit of tension in the room. You need to pull him in and kiss him, but whether or not you’re there yet is still a mystery. Instead, you shift slightly closer.

“Yes, you are”

He smiles. You’ve seen him smile like that before, and it’s always when he’s in a certain mood. Seungmin sets his glass down and takes yours from you.

“Seungmin”

The desperate whine just makes him smirk.

“Please, Minnie…I need you, so much”

“I know you do, I know.” But he grabs your wrists and stops you as you move toward his hips. “You have me. And I need something to.”

“Of course, anything”

“Can you finish your letter?”

· · ·

Seungmin is never fast in the shower, especially not after he’s been away for so long. There’s no need for him to rush around now—he knows he has plenty of time, and plenty of hot water no matter how long he takes. Typically, you leave him alone when he’s in there, despite the occasional urge to go in.

But this time, of all times, you decide to act on that urge.

There he is, behind the glass partition. Steam chokes the air, and condensation keeps his body mostly hidden from you, but he’s tall enough that you do get a peak—back turned, head twisted to the side so the water can beat down on his neck and shoulders. He rolls them, groans with relief, and sighs. It makes you dizzy.

Then he finally opens his eyes and sees you staring at him. He smiles so wide, with all of his teeth, and it’s the most beautiful sight. It’s as if nothing bad has happened, and nothing is slowly tearing the two of you apart.

“I think I’m finally losing hot water,” he muses, mostly to himself, but he doesn’t turn it off. What he does do is turn to you and fold his arms over the partition. He’s just tall enough. “Hi, do you have something for me?”

You nod, shyly, and you don’t know why. The way he’s looking at you seems brand new, and it feels so intense.

“Seungmin…” you start, paper clutched in one hand. You don’t think you even need to read from it now.

He doesn’t interrupt, but he nods and gives you another little smile.

“You’ve always been enough. I see you struggle every day with balancing your work and your regular life…me, us. I don’t know what that’s like. I don’t know how difficult and tiring it is to be on all the time, and to switch off when you walk through that door to me. I have it so easy—I get to hide away from everything, and then at the end of the day, or the end of the week, month…I get you, I get to hear your voice, and see your face, and I couldn’t ask for anything better…”

He ducks away, and the water is turned off as one more big plume of steam rises up and starts to clear. You reach for his towel, hold it open for him, and wait patiently as he drips and shakes his hair. It’s cute, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him do it.

“…because there’s nothing better”

Seungmin steps out and lets you wrap it around him. The water beading down his chest is too much, and as he’s tightening it around his waist, you lean forward and kiss him there. Muscle flexes as you pull away and place another one, and then another until your lips close around his nipple.

At any moment, he could pull away from you, because he hasn’t made his intentions clear yet. He could stay now, for a while, for the last time, or he could leave as soon as he’s dressed. The letter is written and read to him, though it was short, and maybe that was the last of your say on the subject. Maybe that’s why he showed up—that, and the phone.

No. Seungmin wouldn’t put in this much effort just to turn around and leave. He’s still upset, and he’s still confused.

He looks down at you and closes his eyes, savoring the warmth of your lips on his cool skin. It might be too much right now to touch again, but he wants to.

A hand up your back is all it takes to get a sound out of you.

“Hey”

“Yeah?” Your forehead presses against him and you avoid his gaze.

“Everything you said, just now and last night…” he stops and hmms to himself, musing out loud again, “and what I said. Why can’t we say those things to each other. Why did it take this, after so long?”

“Because we’re both afraid of being vulnerable with each other, at least on our feet.”

Seungmin laughs at that. “Yeah, I guess it’s a little different during sex, but even then…”

“Are you saying you want—“ you stop, but not because he interrupts you. You stop because you’re terrified of his answer.

“…to work on it?”

He can still finish your sentences. Maybe that’s part of the problem—thinking you can read each other’s mind, even though sometimes you absolutely do.

“I can feel your heartbeat”

And it feels like it could stop at any moment. It feels like you’re standing on the edge of a cliff, preparing to jump…to get pushed.

Seungmin pulls you even closer, and you wrap your arms around his waist.

“Is that what you think we should do?”

“I just want you to trust the person you give yourself to”

“Is it silly if I still trust you? I know you want me to stay, but the way you talk makes it seem like you’re pushing me away. Like you’re giving me an out.”

“No, it’s not silly. I don’t want to push you away, but I do hate myself more than I ever thought I could.”

“Maybe we’ve talked enough today. We both need more sleep…can we do that?”

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