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army-author · 2 years

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jin scenario | ugly sweater weather

❝ kim seokjin is the most popular boy at your school. you think he’s stuck up and entitled, until you run into him at the clothing store you work at, and find him purchasing an unholy amount of ugly christmas sweaters... ❞

➸ prompt: i lost a bet and have to wear an ugly christmas sweater every day till christmas. you work at the clothing shop i keep buying them from and you’re super cute! i swear i don’t have such terrible fashion sense normally! it’s just for a bet, okay!

➸ pairing: jin x reader

➸ warnings: profanity; terrible puns

➸ requested by anon | 4.2k words | fluff, high school au

If you hear this song one more time you are going to scream.

When you first decided that you were going to work at a clothing store to make a little bit of extra money during the Christmas break, your friends had warned of tiring hours, unhappy customers, and low wages. What they had not warned you of was the fact that the same ten Christmas songs would be on repeat throughout the store for the entire festive period and it is now driving you loopy.

You heave a sigh as you fold a pile jumpers that have been rumpled into a mess by customers searching for the right size without any regard for the neat display you had set up only hours earlier.

“Cheer up,” you hear the voice of your impossibly sunny co-worker (and also best friend) beaming across to you, as he walks past with a handful of shirts on hangers. “Why the long face?” Jung Hoseok gives you grin as he passes, unrealistically happy.

“You know exactly why, Hoseok,” you pout, setting down another neatly folded shirt that you know will be unfolded again as soon as the next customer arrives. “I’ve told you that if I hear I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday one more time I am going to loose my shit.”

“Where’s your festive spirit gone?” Hoseok tisks, as he arranges the shirts on their respective racks.

“I‘ll tell you where you can shove your festive spirit,” you retort, “Right up your a-” You break off when another customer steps into the shop with the sound of the door opening a shutting, and you immediately switch on your polite shop worker smile.

Only for that smile to waver, when you spot who it is.

Kim Seokjin.

You blink a few times, unsure if your eyes are tricking you, as he steps into the shop, pushing his coal black hair back off his face, surveying the store, before he heads for the men’s section.

You glance across at Hoseok, eyes wide, and he mirrors your gaze, a smile tugging on his lips.

Kim Seokjin is one of the most popular boys at your school, and for obvious reason.

With a face that looks like it belongs on the cover of a magazine, and an athletic build and wide shoulders that look like they belong to a marble statue of an old god, Kim Seokjin has got the girls and boys at your school drooling all over him.

You’ve never actually spoken to him yourself, and never had much care to do so. He seems like the kind of person who would be up his own ass, dripping with self-congratulatory affirmations, knowing the affect that his has on other people. You would have assumed he would shop at expensive luxury stores, which is why you find yourself slack jawed and speechless to spot him standing in your local mall.

Unable to stop yourself, your eyes follow him as he makes his way around the store, picking jumpers off rails, checking the tag, and then slinging them over his arm into an ever growing mountain of festively coloured wool. Despite your own misgivings about the guy, you cannot help but admit he is attractive as you watch him, hands frozen over your task of folding, as he makes his way around to the table you’re working at.

You find him staring at the clothing in your hands, and you clear you throat, “Did you want to look at these as well?”

He blinks, eyes drawn from the jumper you are holding, up to the owner of the voice, gaze coming to rest on your face, as if he’s suddenly just noticed your existence. “Oh, yeah, thanks.”

You move out of the way for him as he looks through the jumpers you had been organising, picking out yet another piece to add to his growing collection.

“Do I know you?” he wonders as he glances up at you again, brow furrowing.

“Um, I think we go to school together,” you say.

He thinks it over. “Oh right. You have Mrs. Davis for maths, don’t you?” He smiles, happy that he finally remembered where he knows you from.

The older student has the same teacher for maths, and you’ll sometimes see him leaving the classroom before it’s time for you to enter. You’re surprised he remembered at all.

“Uh, yeah, that’s right,” you nod.

Jin grins at you, “Yeah, I knew you looked familiar. God, Mrs. Davis is scary isn’t she?”

You can’t help but chuckle when he brings up the old woman, imagining the stern fold of her brow as she scowls around at students about to go on another tirade about the importance of completing homework on time. “Yeah, she is.”

Jin nods, before heading off to another section of the shop, and you let go of a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding. It turned out that not only was Jin handsome – he was actually a nice person as well. That was so much worse than you had been anticipating. Why couldn’t he just be an asshole? It’s not fair for the universe to grant someone a good face and a good personality. Your cheeks have gotten hot during your exchange with the older boy; you hurriedly start folding jumpers again, trying to distract yourself. You stare down at the jumper Jin was looking at last, sporting a woollen dog in a scarf, with the text above it: “Feliz Navi-dog!”

“Lame,” you mutter, as you fold up the shirt, and set it back. You look up, and notice that Jin is now making his way towards the tills.

Glancing around, you see that none of your co-workers are at the checkout area. You look across at Hoseok, and tilt your head towards the till meaningfully – a silent plea that he goes and deals with your latest customer.

Hoseok, very unhelpfully, gives you a devilish grin and shakes his head, mouthing, “You go!”

Rolling your eyes, you relent, and head towards the checkout area, ducking behind the counter, while Jin waits.

“Hi, there,” you smile at him, putting on your most polite tone, “Let me just get those for you.” You offer for him to set down his mountain of Christmas jumpers on the counter so that you can scan them through.

He does so, leaving a mess of wool in front of you. He’s somehow managed to choose the ugliest pieces the shop sells, opting for jumpers dripping with Christmas puns, bedazzled with tinsel and sequins – one even has a set of lights that switch on when a button in the sleeve is pressed, flashing lights as bright as a rave until they’re switched off again. Those ones have been particularly irritating to you, as almost every kid that comes into the store ends up switching on the jumper, and it’s always you that has to go and switch it off again.

As you stare at Jin’s ridiculous selection of clothes, you cannot help it – you start laughing.

The eclectic collection of ugly jumpers juxtaposed next to the demure Kim Seokjin, staring at you over an abomination of wool, is just too much for you to handle. Cackling, you duck below the counter, trying to force on a more professional smile, but to no avail. Tears are streaming from your eyes, as you stand up straight again. Trying to keep your lips pressed together to hold back another fit of giggles, you begin scanning the tags on the jumpers. Your shoulders are shaking uncontrollably, and you can feel the corners of your mouth pulling up again.

“Sorry,” you wheeze as you scan the last item, “I’m not laughing at you… It’s just… These jumpers… they’re so bad.”

Jin stares at you over the counter, a pout forming on his face. “It’s not that I like them either,” he says, his cheeks turning red as you continue to fight your giggles. You feel bad as he begins to get more and more flustered in front of you. “I lost a bet,” he explains, “And that means that I have to wear an ugly jumper every day until Christmas. I wouldn’t just go out and buys these on my own free will.”

You wipe a stray tear from your face. “Oh, that’s so ridiculous,” you sigh, trying to fight off another wave of laughter, “What did you bet on?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he shrugs, “I lost anyway...”

You count out the jumpers you had just scanned through for him. Five… Six… Seven… And it was only the fifth of December. He was going to need a few more jumpers to make it to Christmas.

“Well, we’ve got some new jumpers coming in next week if you need any more,” you say, as he holds up his card to the chip and pin machine, and you begin bagging his jumpers for him.

“Oh, that’s good to know,” he says, with a smile, “Thanks.”

With a wave, he takes his bags and exits the shop, leaving you reeling at the whole strange interaction.

“Seems like you two were hitting it off,” Hoseok says, as you duck out from behind the counter, walking back to the display you had been working on, “What was all that about?”

“Oh, I just had a good giggle over the jumpers he was buying,” you smile, “He has some terrible taste in clothing.”

Hoseok raises his eyebrows at you, “Oh yeah? Because from where I was standing, it looked like you were flirting.”

“I was not,” you say, giving him a warning glare, “Cut it out.”

Hoseok shrugs, “I’m just saying. Lots of girls and boys in our school would murder to even have Kim Seokjin look at them, let alone talk to them.”

“Well, he’s just human like the rest of us,” you say, “I don’t get what the appeal is at all.”

But even as you say this, you are slowly beginning to understand the allure yourself, thinking back to the conversation you just had with him, and his glowing cheeks as he had explained his predicament to you.

As you return to folding clothes, even the repetitive Christmas tunes blasting from the shop’s speakers can’t sour the smile on your face.

- ✻ ✻ ✻ -

The next week, you’re in the middle of setting up the display for the shop’s main window, placing Santa hats on the mannequins that wave out to the passers-by, when Jin walks into the shop again.

His face is turning pink with the dropping temperature, his plush lips a shocking red against his face as he steps in from the cold, fixing his wind wrecked hair. You can see he’s wearing one of the Christmas jumpers that he bought at your store earlier, with the caption, “Yes, Queen, Sleigh!” over pink wool below a picture of Santa’s sleigh.

Trying not to cringe internally at the terrible pun, you wave over to Jin as he steps inside, “I see you’ve returned. Back for more crimes against Christmas jumpers?”

Jin looks down at the jumper he’s currently wearing, rubbing at the back of his neck with an awkward laugh, “Guilty as charged.”

You smile, “Our new selection is over there.” You point out the new arrivals to him.

Giving you a thumbs up as thanks, he wanders over to the sweaters for a browse, while you continue working on the display, adjusting the mannequins poses to ensure they look just right.

With the display looking how you want, you take a step back to admire your handiwork, and forget that there’s a step down from the window.

Your heart jumps into your mouth, as you fall backwards. You wince, ready for the impact of the floor. Instead, you find yourself steadied by someone’s arms, and look up to see Jin peering down at you, his arm around your waist, holding you back from your unscheduled meeting with the floor.

“Woah there,” he chuckles, as you blink up at him, “That was almost a disaster.”

“Um, yeah,” you blunder, lost for any sensible words as you stare up at him. How had you never realised how attractive he really was? Sure, he looked like a movie-star or a musician, but you’d never been able to see his appeal beyond that until now. It’s the realness of him - beyond the parts that remind you of Hollywood – the lines that form on his forehead when he frowns, the slight blemishes on his skin when he flushes, the golden flecks in the chocolate of his irises, all of it coming together to form a person beyond the persona you’ve heard of at school. You find yourself entranced, stammering over your words, as you straighten up again, pulling away from him.

“Um, are you ready to pay?” you ask, brushing your hair off your face, and straightening your shirt, as if nothing out of the ordinary happened, as if you didn’t just fall straight into Jin’s arms, and straight into a crush in the process.

“Oh, yeah,” Jin nods, holding up another pile of jumpers, “Got some more.”

You wrinkle your nose at the gaudy jumpers invading your vision. “You say this is all for a bet, but are you sure you don’t just secretly love ugly jumpers?” You squeeze past the boxes cluttering up the way behind the counter, and begin scanning through his newest haul for him.

“I promise my sense of fashion is better normally,” Jin insists, as you choke back a groan at a particularly egregious sweater that shows an elf with a smartphone saying, “Let’s go take an elfie!”

“I’ll need to see some proof of that,” you tell Jin as you wait for him to pay, “Because at the moment, your taste is looking questionable.”

“Just wait until Christmas is over,” Jin says, “I’ll come back and actually get some nice clothes for myself.”

You chuckle, “Well, I look forward to seeing that.” You flush at the insinuation that suggests you’re looking forward to seeing Jin again. Perhaps you are, but you don’t want him to know that. You don’t want to just be another person falling under the charms of the most popular boy in your high-school. As you pack up Jin’s clothes into a shopping bag, you say, “I really am curious what bet you could loose that would cause you to go through with all of this.”

Jin pushes a hand through his hair, “Well, if you really must know, I lost a bet with my friends that I’d actually get a date before December.”

“Really?” You lean back, eyes widening, “I find that very difficult to believe.”

“Why’s that?” he asks, wrinkling his brow in confusion.

“I mean, come on – look at you,” you wave a hand at him, “You’re Kim Seokjin! You’re the most popular guy at our school! You’re handsome, and funny, and kind. I know so many people who’d give anything just to have a chance with you! And you say you can’t get yourself a date?”

“You really think I’m handsome, and funny, and kind?” he asks, a twinkle in his eye.

“Well...” You find your cheeks burning as you realise what you’ve just said, “Everyone thinks that!” You stumble over your words, trying to justify them, but the more he stares at you, the more you find yourself rambling, body growing hotter with embarrassment. “I’m just saying that it’s weird that someone like you can’t get a date.”

He nods in earnest, “But I really can’t. I wouldn’t be forced to wear all these ugly jumpers otherwise!”

“But I swear, anyone you asked would go out with you,” you continue, as you hand him his bag of shopping, stuffed to the brim with atrocious Christmas jumpers.

“Even you?” he asks.

You pause, unsure if you’ve heard correctly. “What?”

“Would you go out with me if I asked you on a date?”

You blink at him, unsure if he’s joking or serious. “That – that depends… Are you going to be wearing one of those awful sweaters on the date? Because if so, then… no.”

His mouth pulls into a teasing frown, “I didn’t realise you were so shallow.” He shrugs, “Okay then. What if I asked you after I’ve proven that my taste in fashion isn’t quite so terrible?”

You shrug, toying with the idea, “I guess you’d just have to try it and find out.”

“I’ll take that as a challenge,” he grins as he turns away from you, heading towards the door. You stare after him, finding a cheesy smile glued to your face that you can’t get rid of, watching him leave the shop.

“And you say you weren’t flirting...” Hoseok chortles behind you.

You spin around to find him squeezing behind the counter to grab some spare clothing hangers.

“What?” you say, fighting the heat that’s rising to your face, “I wasn’t flirting.”

“Suuure,” Hoseok chuckles, as he walks off humming along to the Christmas tunes playing through the shop.

You turn back to the door, where you see Jin waving back at you through the window, before he continues out of sight, his bag of monstrous sweaters in hand.

You smile after him. Maybe Hoseok’s right. Maybe you were flirting… Let it be flirting. With Kim Seokjin, who can blame you?

- ✻ ✻ ✻ -

The next few weeks at the shop go by without incident. As Christmas creeps closer, you keep an eye out for Jin, but he doesn’t return to the shop as the days count down. You cannot help but feel disappointed.

You only have this part-time job until the end of the Christmas holidays, as the manager only needed an extra helper during their most busy period. As your time in the shop creeps closer to its end, you wonder if Jin will show up again. You had enjoyed your little chats over ugly Christmas sweaters.

However, as your final day at the store rolls around, just after the New Year, with no sign of Jin, you decide that it was wishful thinking to imagine seeing him again.

You feel particularly glum as you pace around the store, picking up the Christmas decorations that adorn the displays, your manager asking you to move them out of the way now that the holidays are almost over.

“Hey, stop pouting over there,” Hoseok calls as he walks past you with a box of Christmas decorations, “You’re making the whole shop feel gloomy.”

“I’m not pouting,” you pout back at him.

“Uh huh...” Hoseok does not believe you. Setting down his box, he threads his way through the clothing racks to where you’re stood, “Come on, what’s wrong? I though you’d be happy now that you don’t have to listen to Christmas tunes every day.”

“I know,” you blow a sigh past your lips, “I said I’m fine.”

Hoseok considers, “Is this because you haven’t seen Jin in a while?”

“What? No way,” you shake your head, as you stretch to pull down a piece of tinsel from one of the mirrors.

“Oh hoh...” An evil grin spreads across Hoseok’s face, “I think that’s what it is! I think you’ve got yourself a crush.”

“No I don’t! Shut up,” you hiss, your cheeks flushing, betraying your true feelings.

“Don’t worry,” Hoseok says, “If he shows up in the store after you leave, I’ll be sure to give him your number.”

You sigh, “You can do whatever you want Hoseok. But like I said, I don’t like him like that.”

As you stomp away, tinsel in hand, you can still hear Hoseok snickering behind you.

- ✻ ✻ ✻ -

You don’t think much of your exchange with Hoseok. It doesn’t even cross your mind again until that evening, when you’ve finished your final shift, leaving Hoseok to work the last hour in the shop before closing. The air is frigid as you walk back down the street, heading home. You wonder if Jin would ever go back to the shop looking for you. It’s a silly idea. You try to shake it from your head.

As it was your final day, you’d been gifted a few things by your co-workers – some ‘Sorry to see you go’ cards, along with some cake, the remainders of which are weighing down your bag as you walk up the street.

You feel your phone vibrate in your coat pocket, and fumble, pulling off your gloves to swipe the pattern on your lock screen with your numb fingers.

You see a text from Hoseok in all-caps: “GET BACK TO THE SHOP”

Wondering if you’ve forgotten something, you turn on your heel, heading back the way you came. As you pace back, you go over the possible options of what you could have missed. You remembered to give back the shop keys before you left, and you took your last pay slip from your manager. What could you possibly have forgotten?

As you walk back down the high-street, filled with straggling shoppers, you see the lights of the mall, and hurry forward, curiosity burning.

Inside, you take the familiar route through the ground floor, back to the shop, where you see Hoseok waving at you from the door. You follow him inside.

“What is it Hoseok?” you ask, breathless from your hurried walk back, “What did I forget?”

“Nothing,” Hoseok says.

“Then why did you call me over here?” you demand, “You seriously gave me a heart attack when I saw your message.”

Hoseok glances to a spot behind your shoulder, then back to you, and you turn around to see where he’s looking. There, stood behind you, is Kim Seokjin.

Any questions you have for Hoseok are blocked in your mouth as you stare at Jin. He’s not in an ugly sweater any more. Instead, he’s dressed in a well fitting shirt, with a sleek jacket over the top, and jeans that show off the athletic legs you’ve heard the girls cooing over during gym class.

“Hi,” he raises a hand to wave at you.

“Um, hi,” you say, turning back to look at Hoseok, “Is this why you called me back?”

“Yep,” Hoseok grins, ��Jin said he wanted to speak to you.”

“Did he?” Turning back to Jin, you find yourself suddenly shy.

With some unexpected tact from Hoseok, he says, “I’ve actually got some chores I gotta do in the stock room. I’ll be in there if you need me.” As he walks to the store’s back room, you find yourself alone with Jin.

“I told you my sense of fashion wasn’t usually so bad,” Jin says, indicating to his outfit.

You have to admit, he certainly does not look bad. Actually, he looks really good. “Okay,” you relent, “So when you’re not sporting Christmas sweaters, I’ll confess you don’t actually look awful.”

Jin grins, “So are you willing to admit my taste isn’t as bad as you thought?”

“You might just have picked out a good outfit by mere luck. But you do look nice without those god-awful sweaters.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, heart thudding as you wait for Jin to speak. He takes a breath as if he’s ready to respond, but then he doesn’t say anything.

“Hoseok said that you wanted to see me?” you press him gently, “Was there something you wanted to say?”

“Yeah,” Jin runs a hand through his hair, suddenly looking bashful, “Actually… I… wanted to ask if you wanted to go on a date with me?”

You blink, unable to process this. Your brain seems to be blue screening.

Worry floods his face. “Sorry, did I get the wrong idea? Am I creeping you out?”

You shake the fog from your head, “No, no, it’s fine. I’m just surprised. I didn’t think you were actually being serious.”

“Of course I was serious,” he sticks out his bottom lip in a slight pout, “I like you. And you said you’d consider it if I could prove my fashion sense wasn’t terrible… so?”

You chuckle, “I suppose I did say that, didn’t I?” A pleasing rush of heat sweeps through you as the reality of the situation clicks, brain finally catching up. “Of course, Jin. I’d love to go on a date with you!”

His face breaks into a beam. “If only you’d said that a month ago. Then I wouldn’t have had to go through the embarrassment of wearing all those sweaters.”

“Yeah, but without those sweaters, you wouldn’t have got to know me,” you counter.

“That’s true.”

“Admit it,” you grin, “You do like those jumpers.”

He raises his heands in defeat. “Alright, so sue me. I think ugly sweaters have a certain charm.”

You laugh, “I suppose I can see that charm too. If it’s you wearing it, I can see the appeal.”

- THE END -

➸ author’s note: thank you for reading. i really hope that you enjoyed it~ feel free to leave a message letting me know what you thought :)

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solarsleepless · 3 years

Note

what r max's stims? :)

SHSHJSHJSJSJSHJSH

okAY yes i have many thoughts abt adhd max i am vibrating rn

okay so first of all theres the average well known "flappy hands"

but she really likes it when she has sweaters with longer sleeves because then she can just flap them around

leg bounce leg bounce leg bounce

cracking her knuckles. she does this SO often its unreal

she doesnt have many vocal stims but she goes "ba ba ba" or just humming and singing sometimes

also running her hand on the bottom of her skateboard, and/or rolling the wheels

just being on her skateboard and swaying is a huge stim

chewing her shirt lmao

im also gonna say that she also stims by pressing on buttons and other stuff in the arcade. its just Nice To Do

also stims by kicking off of the ground on her skateboard. very nice

well this is gonna turn into adhd max rant get ready

she had adhd combined (like yours truly) and finds it hard to concentrate in class

she totally hyperfixated on video games at some point

and comics probably

and skateboarding too

she is a VERY picky eater. like she could barely eat stuff in california, so when she moves to hawkins it only gets worse

sensory issues my abhorreeed

can't stand too-loud noises (b!lly of course knows this and turns up music in his car so that he can't even hear himself)

that being said she cant STAND the silence and always needs background noise (she and el bond over liking white noise from tv)

SHE LOVES TANGLERS SO MUCH

goes nonverbal sometimes because of the fear that if she says anything itll just make things worse. the party + steve is very concerned at first, then learn to live with it

WHISTLE STIM WHISTLE STIM WHISTLE

she has so many weighted blankets. she couldnt actually use them much because it was too hot in cali but then in hawkins she used them all the time

SPINNY CHAIR SPINNY CHAIR

undiagnosed

loves fluffy jumpers. she never really used or felt them earlier because of the hotness of california but when she was cold and lucas lent her his fluffy jumper...

well let's just say he didn't get it back

rubbing her hand over lucas's knuckles :)

i know i've already said singing stim but just imagine her singing 'material girl' or 'old time rock and roll'

echolalia! only sometimes tho

like erica will go "hey max me and lukie are gonna make a cake wanna help?" "cake?" "cake" "cake!" "cake!" "cake"

also the sinclair family is so accepting. they're confused but they just accept max and thats okay

once the party started looking up what adhd was, max brought it up once and immediately they all went 'that's only for little boys'

(which is bullshit obvs)

remember that sleepover scene where max is dancing? yeah that but its a stim

the party + the teens have a running joke of max being moth because she stares at lights so much. visual stim

she scratches as a(n unhealthy) stim but it gets worse after billy's death

hates it when people shout, usually goes nonverbal if it's directed at her

jumps when she's happy!!

you know how she just wears basic and unlayered clothes? yeah she chooses them on purpose because tight stuff feels Bad

she hates labels with her entire being

she seems like the kind of gal to bite her nails

also adopted dustin's "grrr" as a stim

"hey max- grrr" "...what was that?" "...grrr" "could you teach me how to do that" ".. o k a y ?"

will and max (i hc will as autistic) both have lil stimming sessions! they just notice the other stimming and join in, just leaving them laughing at the end!

lucas is super understanding of her stims

he learnt to recognize when she's understimulated and gives her fidget toys!! and if he doesnt have any then he'll just straight up grab her hand and start rubbing his fingers against the knuckles

i'd like to say:

*SLAPS ROOF OF MAX MAYFIELD* THIS BITCH CAN HOLD SO MUCH RSD

she wasnt doing so good in the first place

thinking stuff like

"maybe if i wasnt born then my parents wouldn't have divorced"

and stuff like that

(billy intentionally makes it worse because of course he does)

but then it gets so. much. worse.

you know mike said "because you're annoying" in s2?

YOU CAN BET THAT TRIGGERED HER RSD SO HARD

and also when el just walked past her in s2? yeah well

that didn't go off well with her rsd either

lucas has to reassure her that she's not a mistake, she's not annoying, he doesn't secretly hate her, etc etc

he doesnt think he'll ever forgive mike for triggering her rsd so badly

this has so many hurt/comfort possibilities in fic holy fuck-

lucas immediately shuts down her deprecating comments

like IMMEDIATELY

he wont stand for that shit

he is glaring so badly at anyone who triggers max's rsd

unless it's someone they love (like erica) who doesn't actually know what they did wrong and want to make up for it

once erica activated her rsd by accident

just with a lil lighthearted comment

"ugh i hope you arent as annoying as lukey's little friends on the walkie talkie"

once erica finds out abt what she did she feels SO bad. babey

she does everything she can to make up for it

apologizes properly when they're both brushing the barbie's hair

she finds out max stims by brushing barbie's hair when max has to look after once

so when she can see max is understimulated she'll just toss a barbie and a hairbrush her way

also likes max's echolalia (can you hear that? its the sound of max's euphoria boosting)

erica learns to lower her voice around max

max can't watch anything without subtitles btw

she just cannot

she'll watch it and cause she's smart she'll figure out what's going on

but often has to turn to lucas and go "whats going on???"

she loves the feeling of snow thru her gloves

maybe its the cold but still. very Nice

uhh i have more but i cant be bothered also this is too long already

#max mayfield #adhd headcanons #stimming #stranger things headcanons #max mayfield headcanons #lucas sinclair #erica sinclair #sinclair family my beloveds #max is bi and has adhd change my mind :)#max mayfield my beloved #itstiger720 #lumax the beloveds

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sugarmaplewings-fics · 4 years

Text

Hoodie Headcanons

Pairings: BNHA Boys x reader

Warnings: None, just more fluff from me!

Characters: Midoriya, Bakugou, Todoroki, Shinsou, Amajiki, Kirishima

A/N: I highly recommend listening to Jacob Sartorius’s Sweatshirt song while reading ;)

꒰ෆ❛ั ु▿❛ั ु꒱ ٩꒰• ε •꒱۶

Midoriya:

● I wanna start this off by saying that Midoriya unironically likes that song ^^^. There's nothing I can do, it's canon.

● That said, he's super chill about you stealing his clothes

● Already owns a crap ton of hoodies and loose t-shirts, so you have quite the number to choose from

● Understands completely how you like the way they smell

● It was initially his idea to offer you his hoodie one evening when you looked cold

● After you put it on, he just couldn't stop staring at you

● You were so cute !!! and wearing his hoodie !!!

● 100% a yes from him when you asked to borrow it for a while longer

● And any other time you so happened to want to snatch one

● Wearing some of his clothing is def a cuddle turn on

● Your relationship in general is just soft vibes and fuzzy sweetness, but Izu will get nearly twice as tender curled up next to you in his hoodie

● A forehead and cheek kiss simp all the way, just smothering your face in little pecks

● Fall and winter only gain more appreciation from him, since it's perfect sweater weather and time to share warmth any way he could think of with his cutie (that's you (*~‿~))

● Is also down to see you in his t-shirts when it gets a little warmer

● It makes him feel some sort of way when he sees you in one of his old All Might tees

● A good way, mind you

● Maybe it's the nostalgia of the shirt seen on his favorite person

● Literally two of his top three favorite people right there in front of him for him to hold (but only one in the flesh. Both would be weird)

____________

Bakugou:

● We all know Baku's fashion sense is on point

● A lot of his clothes aren't for comfort, but he does have some baggy tees to sleep in

● Actually, not anymore

● Because they're all gone

● He feels like he's going crazy, trying to figure out how he's misplaced so many shirts

● Until one day when he catches you in the act, rummaging through his closet for another t-shirt to add to your collection

● "So that's why I haven't been able to find any of my clothes!"

● His voice makes you jump, whipping around to meet his triumphant expression

● So he wasn't just a dumbass who couldn't keep track of his own pajamas. That was a relief

● But then . . . you'd taken his stuff, and acted like he was crazy when he'd mentioned it missing in passing

● Now he's a little pissed

Your back was to his closet, guiltily holding a black t-shirt. "Katsuki, I—"

"Where's the rest of them?"

"Huh?"

"I know what you've been up to. What have you been doing with my clothes?"

You sheepishly lead him to your room, opening a drawer in your dresser where you'd been storing your stolen goods.

Katsuki looks into the nearly full drawer, then back at you, and you can't help but notice a hint of respect flickering on his features.

"You're pretty good," he admits, putting a hand in the drawer and pulling a shirt out at random. "I didn't even realize I was missing this many."

"I was going to give them back," you try to explain, now attempting to hide your face with your hair, "but they still kinda smelled like you, and they're so comfortable to sleep in—"

"Oh, so that's what you do with them." Katsuki's frown deepened, letting the shirt fall back into the pile. "Why don't you just come see me?"

You averted your eyes, shrugging. "I don't know. You just go to bed so early and sometimes I have to stay up and study but I still miss you, so having your stuff is really nice because it's like . . . you're there . . . ."

Katsuki sighed and pulled you into a hug, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I'm here for you, babe. You don't need a piece of cloth when you can just ask."

"But what about when you're not here?"

He paused, realizing you had a point. "You can keep some," he finally grumbled. "But for heaven's sake, not so many! I'm running out of things to wear. If you need another one, tell me."

"Thank you." You hugged him back and finally watched as he lugged an armful of t-shirts out of your room and back to his.

● Eventually Bakugou realized that seeing you wearing one of his shirts oddly boosted his ego; especially seeing you so often, now that he knows your secret, more than happy to wear his clothing while the two of you hung out together

● He starts to insist that you wear some of his t-shirts around the common areas, letting people see you in them

● But before you get the chance, he makes sure to wear it frequently so everyone knows it's his, and then gives it to you to wear so everyone knows you're also his. It's just one of his pride things

● You soon start to expand from just shirts, eyeing the singular hoodie at the back of his closet

● He doesn't think it really fits his vibe, only having worn it alone in the confines of his own room when he was cold

● You insist that you want it, though, so he grumbles and starts wearing it in secret so it can smell like him for you

● He has to admit you're freakishly adorable in it, even though it's not really oversized or anything

● This prompts him to wear it more often, just not in front of anyone other than you

● You finally buy him another hoodie for his birthday, although it's more of a gift for yourself than him

●And now we move on to: Bakugou's baggy pants

● Maybe our favorite explosive blond boy likes his tops to be a little more put together

● But dang, do he got those loose-as-heck pants

● You steal them out of spite mostly, just to see his reaction to your hips filling out his pants

● Boy does he like it

____________

Todoroki:

● "Why are you taking my clothes? Do you not have enough of your own?"

● Doesn't really own hoodies, per se, but definitely has a steady supply of jumpers, knits, and turtlenecks

● Or, he used to

● Until you came along

● Is kinda confused at first, completely baffled at where all his clothes were going

● Then he finally caught you, recognizing one of his sweaters on you while you made a quick trip to the kitchen for tea

● Legitimately does not know why you'd take it, surprised that you'd steal from him

● You hastily explain that it's normal, and that you only do it so you can have something that smells like him for when he's not around

● After that, he kind of understands

● Took you shopping with him once, just to see what you liked. He thought he'd be buying you some sweaters of your own, but instead ended up purchasing his first oversized hoodie (with a few extras to share) (who wants a quick Buying Hoodies with Shouto drabble?)

● Now you're both obsessed with the hoodies, Shouto being surprised at how comfortable they are

● Loves showing up for cuddle sessions in a hoodie, pulling you close to him so you sink into the soft fabric

● 100% Shouto's new favorite clothing item

____________

Shinsou:

● It started out when you took a nap together for the first time at his house

● You'd asked to borrow one of his larger shirts to sleep in, feeling a bit uncomfortable in the top you had worn that day (I for one cannot sleep in my day clothes. I don't know why, it just feels wrong. Does anyone else feel like that too?)

● He let you wear a large, gray tee, which was so big on you it fell around your thighs

● He thought you looked so cute in it, especially since it mostly covered your shorts

● Thus began your obsession with wearing his clothes whenever possible

● Pajamas, t-shirts, and hoodies are your prime targets

● Totally wear them to bed whenever you're not sleeping with him (as in sharing a bed, not that)

● The scent makes it feel like he's right there with you

● Shinsou noticed immediately what you were doing but never made any moves to stop you, thinking it was cute

● Absolutely loves seeing you in his clothes

● You look so cute but also it's low key hot, jus sayin 👀

● I've briefly mentioned this before, I think, but 'Toshi has some nice pajamas

● Nothing over the top expensive or anything, no

● I'm talking peak COMFY

● Ya ever see the pants with fleece lining and stuff?

● Mmm *chef kiss* do he have a pair of those fo sure

● Also, many with cat themes!

● Seeing you in his purple cat PJ pants only solidifies further for him that you're his Kitty

____________

Amajiki:

● Gets kinda flustered but at the same time is super flattered

● You actually ask to 'borrow' one of his sweaters, and he lets you, blushing as he watches you slide it over your head

● You're so frinking cute in it, and he feels this almost foreign sense of possessiveness wash over him because you're there and you're adorable and you're in his sweater and all of you is his

● Spontaneously hugs you and is even brave enough to press a few little kisses all over your face

● You wearing his sweaters and hoodies becomes a regular thing; asking every few weeks for a replacement top and him obliging, letting you pick something from his closet

● This doesn't stop you from occasionally stealing his clothes anyway, him sometimes catching you in one of his jumpers and briefly wondering if he'd ever actually seen you choose that particular one before shrugging and brushing it off

● He never fails to provide you with extras whenever you have to be apart for whatever reason, trying to help so you don't have to miss him so much

● Is 200% more inclined to hug you when you're wearing them. You just look so soft and warm, which he quickly finds out for himself that you are

● Definitely has thought about trying on one of your hoodies, but is a little too scared to ask

____________

KiriBaku:

● You alternate between wearing Bakugou's hoodie with Kirishima's sweats and then vice versa

● Neither of them can handle how cute you look practically drowning in hoodies that they bought oversized for them

● They're just that much bigger on you, especially Kirishima's since he's more willing to buy baggier hoodies than Bakugou

● If either one of them catches you wearing their clothes, they will literally just flop on top of you, overwhelmed by how much they want to hug you

● Even Bakugou will drop what he's doing just to go give you a hug, pulling you onto his lap for a minute and giving you a sweet kiss

● Eijirou will straight-up full-on tackle you, peppering kisses all over your face while he hugs you close to him

● If it's both of them at once though, get ready

● An impromptu cuddle sesh is guaranteed, most likely starting with Kirishima picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom while Bakugou follows close behind, ready to jump into bed with you

● Like I said way up top, Bakugou wasn't super into hoodies at first, but once you start stealing Kirishima's along with the one or two he does have, he starts buying and wearing them for the sole purpose of seeing you add them to your collection

● Bakugou's are better for going out in since they tend to fit you a little better, him opting to buy hoodies a little closer to his size

● Kirishima's are great for hanging out around the house, snuggling into the excess fabric and inhaling his scent while you wait for him to get home

● The two of them eventually start to just wear each other's hoodies interchangeably too, to the point of nobody really knowing who's hoodie is who's anymore

● E: "I'm pretty sure you got me this one for my birthday."

● K: "No, I bought it for myself, and then you decided to steal it on your birthday."

● Before all the confusion, though, you would rotate, having little hoodie parties where both you and Bakugou would wear one of Kirishima's hoodies while Kirishima wore one of Bakugou's

● Bonus: Kirishima has 100% decided to repay the whole clothing stealing thing and took your leggings, wearing them around the house just waiting for one of you to notice

● "Are those my leggings?"

● "Yeah."

● "What the hell."

● You just roll your eyes and go back to what you were doing

● Not ten minutes later, from another room—

● "EJIROU, WHAT THE FUCK!"

● "What?"

꒰ෆ❛ั ु▿❛ั ु꒱ ٩꒰• ε •꒱۶

Author's Note:

I will be posting a quick Eijirou drabble about him catching you stealing his hoodie, so expect that soon (find it here!). Also I didn't do TodoDeku but that was because I ran out of both motivation and time so ╮ (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.) ╭

Writing these made me realize how few hoodies I own. Also how single and alone I am.

*Waluigi voice* WAH

-Sugar

#izuku midoriya x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #hitoshi shinsou x reader #tamaki amajiki x reader #kiribaku x reader #bnha x reader #sugar hcs

826 notes · View notes

ive-tumbled-down-a-rabbit-hole · 3 years

Text

Heather

A one shot based on Conan Gray's Heather song.

First attempt at writing since an early teenager so apologies if it's a little disjointed. And thank you @boldlyanxious for your encouragement to take the plunge and actually get this idea out my head!

Also to @zambie-trashart @loveswifi for being amazing and connecting people ❤️

Masterlist

..................................................................................

Damian and Jon were a dynamic duo. Best friends. Super sons since they were “forced together” Damian taking the lead with Jon following shortly behind. Damian’s brothers liked to tease him, that Jon was like a puppy dog, with his “adoring eyes” only for Damian. ‘Tt’ thought Damian. Jon was his acquaintance and team mate of course he would follow him. They were a Super Son duo team; it was them against the world.

Jon and Damian were in the training room when Batman and Wonder Woman wandered with an unknown person.

“Robin, Superboy, this is Ladybug, Wonder Woman’s apprentice.” Batman said when Damian and Jon had paused from training. “She will be joining you on your next recon mission. She has just rejoined the world from being in Themyscira for a while. Working with you two will help her readjust to working with the Justice League.”

Jon, rushing up to the newly introduced Ladybug “Hi there, I’m Superboy! WOw you’ve been to Themyscira? What is it like?? Do you have super powers! We have a briefing on the mission in an hour, have you been shown around the base yet?”

Damian turned to Batman and hissed “Can we trust her? We don’t know her at all. She will be a liability” not impressed by the surprise new element and glaring at her when he got the chance.

“Robin” growled Batman, “She can be trusted, you will work with her nicely”.

Wonder Woman observed the situation with mirth while Ladybug just looked overwhelmed with the conflicting energy pulsing between everyone.

Diana’s apprentice, “Ladybug” was a similar age to them and after that initial mission she ended up joining them on other missions.

Damian wasn’t happy with this initially, but he slowly started to warm to her. Ladybug held secret identities in high regard and never tried to “uncover” his or Jon’s, she took missions seriously, far more than Jon, and was apt at strategizing and working with the bare minimum. She didn’t demand their attention, monopolise Jon or try to be best friends with them. She needed work on her fighting technique outside the suit and had trust issues too, but eventually she grew on Damian. It helped she listened to his critique and responded accordingly as well as took any opportunity to train especially with him and Jon. Compared to others Damian and Jon could have been paired with, she was adequate.

Jon welcomed her too quickly from Damian’s point of view, but he followed Damian’s lead for the most part when socialising with her, though always friendly didn’t reveal too many secrets unintentionally. On the positive, Jon had ‘finally learnt’ some etiquette with others. Jon didn’t drape his arm over her shoulder or continually try to initiate his tactile friendship with her like he had with him. Damian would rather not scare Ladybug off with Jon’s annoying need to hang off people. After the last mission when paired with a Green Lantern, he’d rather work with her than be paired with someone else, she was tolerable at least.

….....................................................................

Damian had been noticing a shift occurring in his best friend over the last year or so. At first, he was finally learning how to tone down his tactility with their friendship. Damian was pleased with the result as Jon was finally growing up, though he did miss the warmth of Jon’s arm over him occasionally or the enthusiastic hugs when they met up, especially when it was just the pair of them. He would never admit it out loud, but the hugs were something he never thought he would miss. He missed Jon lean his head on his shoulder when they watched films together. The sleepovers had subtly reduced too. That Damian really did miss. At least Jon’s social etiquette had improved though.

Well, that was Damians originally though, more recently he had noticed Jon was slowly losing his newly gained etiquette with Ladybug. His tactility was starting to return around her, and it was very unbecoming. Damian had sworn Jon had finally been trained out of that, what was worse though, was Ladybug started to respond in subtle tactility too. Not as extreme as Jon’s and was, a hand on his shoulder, a 'la bise’ when greeting, all within socially acceptable etiquette, but it should be frowned on. They were professionals. She was encouraging Jon’s behaviour to return. Damian did note that it seemed only with her though, he couldn’t make that out. Part of him wanted it to return with him too or only him maybe.

….........................................................................

Damian was sulking down in the Batcave when his “idiotic” brothers found him.

Upon seeing Damian growling at the computer searching through a case “What’s up little D? I thought you usually patrol with Jon tonight” echod around the cave. Damian glared at Dick “He cancelled. Jon said he is training Ladybug this evening”.

Jason whistled “So he finally got over his crush on you and moved on to Ladybug huh!”

Tim replied “Kon says he doesn’t shut up about her at home.” putting on a ‘high pitched voice Tim continued “‘Oh, what blue eyes she has’ ‘Oh, how strong she is’ ‘how pretty her smile is’”

Damian turned his glare to his other brothers. “Tt, Drake stop with that infuriating voice. Todd, Jon does not have a crush on me! That is ridiculous! He is training with Ladybug to improve her fighting skills and strength. She is overly cautious when in her suit with those without super strength therefore Jon is the perfect candidate. And Drake you are being ridiculous. If Jon and I mean IF he likes her it should be for her hero professionalism not for her looks! Tt'' rolling his eyes at the absurdity of the situation.

“Oh please! Jon has been flirting with you for years and not got anywhere. Ladybug turns up and responds to his flirting of course he’ll move on and want to spend time with her. He is using the training as an excuse to be close with her ALONE. If he really wanted to train, he’d have invited you too for feedback.” Jason snarked back.

That got Damian to pause for a second, though still scowling at his siblings. ‘Why hadn’t he invited him along to help train. He was always up for training and was happy that Ladybug had started to get Jon to consider training more seriously… wait, what if Todd was right and that wasn’t what Jon was after…. And Jon flirting with him... when did he do that???’

“Please tell me, you knew Jon was flirting with you right! That you were ignoring his advances due to being uninterested and didn’t want to hurt his feelings more than you were. Don’t say that you are pulling a Bruce and being dense on the emotion spectrum” supplied Tim.

“Jon has never flirted with me Todd! Drake! He is my best friend that is all and being a good partner to Ladybug” spat out Damian and looked as if he would reach for his katana any moment now.

Dick taking pity on Damian, stepped in before any maiming occurred and the conversation got any more heated. “Little D, you do realise that there are other methods of flirting other than the ones we typically witness at Gala’s where people ‘thrusting’ themselves on to us. That there are different languages of love? Jon’s most obvious ones are spending time, touch… I’d agree with Jay and Timmy. Jon did have a crush on you with him following you around all the time, even at his own inconvenience. His constant touch and being near you. The puppy dog eyes which he only gave you. You must have noticed this. And this had started to decrease before Ladybug’s arrival. I’m betting he got fed up with waiting for you to notice him and started noticing others. Ladybug has just kick jumped his next crush, and I’m guessing, and I do mean I’m guessing, but based on the facts and observations she returns his feelings.” Dick then turned and grabbed Tim and Jason and started drag them to change for patrol, “We’ll leave you to process”, frowning at Tim and putting a hand over Jason’s mouth when they looked like they wanted to say something more.

Post patrol Damian went to do research in his room on his ‘secret laptop’, he did not trust Tim not to try and hack into his known tech. Damian looked up “flirting techniques”, language of “love”, then “how to tell if someone is flirting with you” “how to tell if you like or love someone” and “how to interpret your own feelings”. Dread built in his stomach.

When Damian did fall asleep it was not fitful slumber at all.

I still remember the third of December, me in your sweater

You said it looked better on me than it did you

Only if you knew how much I liked you

But I watch your eyes as she

Walks by

What a sight for sore eyes

Brighter than the blue sky

She's got you mesmerised while I die

It was at the Justice Leagues winter party; Jon was wrestling Damian into an old Christmas jumper of his. “There! See. It looks fab on you. Actually Dames, I’m pretty sure you wear it better than I did'' Jon stated with a cheeky grin. Damian “Tt, the jumper is hideous” fighting a subtle blush by looking away with Jon being so close. “C’mon Dames. It’s Christmas. The jumpers aren’t meant to be ‘tasteful’ and whatever. It's meant to be....” Jon tailed off. Damian looked back at Jon to follow his line of sight. Ladybug had entered the room with Diana. Damian finally got what his brothers meant with “puppy dog eyes” Jon’s whole face softened as he smiled and waved her over. Damian’s stomach clenched.

Why would you ever kiss me?

I'm not even half as pretty

You gave her your sweater, it's just polyester

But you like her better

Wish I were Heather

Jon greeted Ladybug with a kiss on her cheek, “M you made it! But where’s your jumper?!”. Ladybug replied with a smile “I said I would be here Jon.” then uncharacteristically nervously stated “I wasn’t sure about the jumpers though. It was so open ended” before going into a ranting “Did you mean thick ones, or thin ones, sparkley, tasteful, ugly! Urgh! AND you didn’t respond to my messages to help!”

Damian felt the girl was a whiplash of emotions at times. Jon laughed kindly while semi leaning on Damian though put his hand on Ladybug’s shoulder “Calm down M, here take mine. I brought lots with me as I knew Dames would potentially kick up a fuss. His is the fifth one he tried on”

Jon took his jumper off and handed it to Ladybug. As soon as she had it on Jon fussed over her “We need to have you looking perfect! You pull this jumper off amazingly” causing Ladybug to sport a faint blush.

Damian felt sick. It hit him. Jon liked Ladybug. Jon knew Ladybug’s identity. Jon had liked him, but he only was realising now that he liked him back, but it was too late. Jon was moving on. And Damian couldn’t even blame him. Ladybug was objectively pretty, but she was more. She was a good hero, not just a vigilante but a hero. He’d seen her on missions, and she cared about others, civilians, her team and even criminals and villains she took done with force but strange care. It made sense that Jon would move on with her.

Watch as she stands with her, holding your hand

Put your arm 'round her shoulder, now I'm getting colder

But how could I hate her, she's such an angel

But then again, kinda wish she were dead as she

Walks by

What a sight for sore eyes

Brighter than the blue sky

She's got you mesmerised while I die

From there Damian witnessed Ladybug holding Jon’s hand as he dragged her around introducing her to other members of the league she’d yet to meet. Jon draping his arm over her shoulder, while they held conversations. ‘Just like he used to do with me’ Damian’s brain supplied.

“Hey Brat, how you holding up? You’re looking pretty glum here without Jon and the others keeping you company” Tim surprisingly snuck up on Damian. “Tt, I’m fine Drake. Jon is introducing Ladybug to everyone and ensuring her first party isn’t unpleasant.”

“That doesn’t explain why you aren’t there with them”

Damian looked at Drake with narrow eyes trying to figure out what he was digging for.

“Look Damian. I’m probably not the best here”

“Tt, I’d agree to that” snapped Damian rolling his eyes

“Oi Brat! I meant comfort, support and what not. That’s Dick’s department really” Tim sighed “Damian! Look I’m offering a listening ear, as unfortunately for the pair of us you are my brother, and you look like you need to talk to someone.”

Damian looked at Drake for a moment and contemplated what he wanted to do, other than grab his katana and maim someone. Preferably Drake or... maybe Ladybug, which was a surprising thought.

“I want to hate her, but I can’t as she is a literal angel, and she makes Jon happy.” Damian quietly disclosed to Tim before wandering off to avoid the bombardment of questions that potentially could follow. ‘At least Drake is better than Grayson or Todd to admit that too, his form of torment is less overt’.

Why would you ever kiss me?

I'm not even half as pretty

You gave her your sweater, it's just polyester

But you like her better

I wish I were Heather

Oh, I wish I were Heather

Oh, oh, wish I were Heather

Damian now wasn’t sure whether wondering off from Drake was a good idea after all. He had sneaked out of the main hall where the party was to try and find somewhere quiet to untangle his increasingly chaotic thoughts. Unluckily for him though, he’d stumbled upon Jon showing Ladybug the stars from the gallery room. Before Damian could react by letting them know of his existence or get away, Damain witnessed something he really wished he could unsee. Jon gently lifted Ladybug’s chin and slowly kissed her. He had given her every chance to move away if she had wanted too but she hadn’t.

The nausea and pain returned by the time Damian slipped away from them.

Jon liked Ladybug; Ladybug liked Jon. They were kissing.

‘I wish it was me instead’ ‘I like Jon’ ‘Jon likes Ladybug’ ‘I missed my chance’ whizzed around Damians head.

Damian thoughts spiralled from there. He reviewed his interactions with Jon. He could bash his head against the wall with his obliviousness. Damian took a deep breath and schooled his icy façade back into place. He re-joined the party like he hadn’t witnessed Jon kissing Ladybug and his heart was finally admitting to hurting.

When Jon joined him later, Damian kept his hurt locked up with Jon bounced with happiness in front of him.

“I asked M, I mean Ladybug to be my girlfriend. I was so worried she’d reject me, but she didn’t! She said Yes Dames! M said yes. To me Dames, she actually likes me! Oh gods I didn’t imagine it did I”

Pushing down the hurt, Damian replied “Tt, tonight is real Jon, and she would be an idiot to reject you” ‘like me’ left unspoken.

Why would you ever kiss me?

I'm not even half as pretty

You gave her your sweater, it's just polyester

But you like her better

Wish I were

#maribat #maribat au #marijon #marinette x jon #jon x marinette

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mollymauk-teafleak · 3 years

Note

"you're in no condition to be walking around" + ThanZag

Mermaid AU!!!! Thought it was time to roll this one out, I’m just super feeling mournful Thanatos on a break from his hectic city job post nervous breakdown, out in an isolated cottage by the sea, falling in love with a mermaid Zagreus he’s been secret friends with since they were kids.

and some Angst

Please leave a comment on Ao3 if you like this!

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

Three days wasn’t late.

Thanatos told himself that every morning and evening, when he would pull on the largest and thickest of the sweaters his mother had knitted for him, shove his bare feet into boots and take a tin mug of coffee out onto the little jetty to wait for Zagreus. He told himself that every hour as the waves rolled in and out without so much as a ripple or a flash of a scaled tail like fire in the water. He told himself every time he had to trudge back to his lopsided cottage on the fringe of the pebbled shoreline, cold and probably soaked to the bone, to start work or to sink into fitful dreams, still with that question weighing him down inside like a ballast stone.

But three days wasn’t late. He’d been gone for longer stretches than this. His people ranged far, travelled long distances for forage and food or on sheer curiosity. Hadn’t Zagreus shown him fossils he’d rescued from deep coves or necklaces ancient with tarnish he’d scavenged from shipwrecks older than both of them, hadn’t he been widening his friend’s eyes with stories of underwater volcanoes and tropical waters warm as blood and dodging ice floes in arctic waters, since the two of them were children? Three days was nothing. Three days wasn’t late.

So why weren’t the words any comfort?

Because every other time, he told you when he was going away, Than catalogued his reasons for anxiety miserably, sitting on the end of the jetty in a misty drizzle with his eyes fixed out to sea. Because even if he was going ranging, he’d swim back at twice the speed to come and see you. He sipped his now cold coffee and tasted rainwater. Because the storms have been bad recently. He bleakly noted that it was an hour past sunset, their usual meeting time, and he should probably be going inside. Because you have a really bad feeling you just can’t shake.

Thanatos pushed a hand through his silver hair, feeling the raindrops caught in it melt and run down the inside of his wrist. He was beyond exhausted, it was a fog in his mind, but something kept him pinned to the edge of the rickety little pier, swinging his legs like he used to when he was a child. Maybe if he acted like he did back then, Zagreus would just appear with that same, bright grin on his face, as unexpected and magical as the first time.

Eventually the ache in his joints grew impossible to ignore and the damp in the seat of his jeans reached an unbearable level of discomfort. Than swallowed his disappointment and upturned the dregs of his coffee into the sea, wincing as he hauled himself back onto his feet, carefully so he didn’t slip on the slick, half rotted wood and end up tumbling into the slate grey water. He sent one last, longing look out across the waves, straining for a flash of black hair or scales like flame. When there was none, he sighed and turned back to his cottage, a smudge of shadow through the hazy rainfall.

Four days wasn’t late.

The wind was starting to pick up, promising another storm close on the heels of the one that had just broken the day before. It’s low, threatening murmur was almost loud enough that he didn’t hear the wild, desperate cry of his name. Almost.

He whirled and saw it, out where the waves were starting to roll and surge, a good few yards out from the end of the jetty. In between the rising peaks of the water, only visible when they fell away, a pale, shaking form, waving desperately. And, visible even from here, a mouth tight with pain and a pair of mismatched eyes large with panic.

Thanatos barely paused to think. Only to remember the many lessons his mother had drilled into him and his siblings when they would visit in the summer and to realise that the heavy wool jumper and the clunky boots should be pulled off and left behind. Once that was done, he was running, slipping into a smooth dive as he launched himself off the end of the jetty.

As soon as he hit the water, all of his senses went dead for a moment, only to flood back with screaming alarms of panic and pain that threatened to pull him under. But at the last moment he managed to enter that strange, eerie headspace of total calm he could summon when things seemed most dire. He sunk himself into the rhythm of his strokes, the pull of his muscles, the swell of the water around him, the burn as his head broke the surface and he dragged in as much air as he could before plunging ahead.

Thanatos had always been the strongest swimmer of his brothers and a childhood spent trying to keep up with Zagreus had only sharpened those skills. The water was a bitter, sullen force around him, wanting to draw him everywhere but where he needed to go, angry at his intrusion. But Than managed to be stronger, closing the distance between himself and his friend as quickly as he could.

Zag’s mouth was open and faint, frantic words were coming out but Than didn’t waste time listening.

“Go limp!” he called over the crash of the waves around him, slipping his arm around Zag’s chest, tipping him back so he could drag him along.

He heard an unmistakable yelp of pain from his friend and felt a wetness on his side far warmer than seawater but Zag did as he’d asked and towing him back to the shoreline was surprisingly easy, now the shock of the cold was over, now that he could feel Zag’s terrified heartbeat against his arm. Now that Thanatos could feel how much his friend needed him, it was a simple task.

The last part was mostly an ungainly dragging and hauling act as Than laid Zag down as far out of the surf as he could stand to carry his weight. Against the stones and silt and sand, he could see how deathly pale his friend was, how sharply the blood stood out against his skin from the tear in his side. It was like the colours of his tail were running in the water, leeching up

“Zagreus…” he panted, teeth starting to chatter.

“Sorry I’m late,” Zag choked out, his voice a faint echo in his throat.

Than cursed, forcing his burning muscles to keep moving, sliding his arms under Zag and managing to lift him. He wasn’t as heavy as he might have been, built lithe and sleek for a life of swimming, and he wasn’t slimy the way a younger Thanatos assumed fish would feel. But neither was he warm, the way he was supposed to be, and he had the heaviness of someone truly exhausted.

“Just stay with me,” Than ground out, carrying him the last of the cold, windy way to the cottage, “You can be as late as you bloody well please if you just keep talking...do you have enough to change?”

Zag tensed in his arms, grimacing before going limp and shaking his head, “Sorry…”

“Don’t you dare,” Than didn’t even stop, shouldering the door to his home open and just carrying him straight up the stairs to the bathroom, “Just talk. Tell me how it happened.”

Zag swallowed hard and turned his face to Than’s shoulder, clearly trying to bear the pain from the jolt of the steps, “I...I wanted to visit but the storms...and then we heard word of hunters coming into our territory…”

“Hunters?” Than frowned, kicking down the door to the poky little bathroom, “You’ve not mentioned hunters?”

“Half fishermen, half pirates,” Zag’s grip on Than’s shoulders was like iron as he laid him down in the tub, voice tense and tight, “They want our scales. Jewellery and stuff. Or else put us on display in shows. It’s death or captivity if they catch you and we heard they were in our waters. That they already had some of my people.”

Than murmured soothingly as he tried to get him comfortable, wrenching the tight, temperamental old faucets into life so water could pour down onto him, keeping him going until he could summon the strength to shift.

“Let me guess,” he sighed, “You went on a rescue mission. By yourself.”

“Not by myself,” Zag muttered sullenly, as Than moved his arm so he could properly see the gash in his side, “Father’s guards were right behind me. I just got there first.”

Than nodded, unsurprised, studying the wound. It wasn’t clean, the edges were ragged and it was deep. He’d need to stitch it shut, he realised. He could, of course, anyone in his line of work knew basic medical things like that, he’d just need to steady his hands first.

“And did you get them back? Your people?”

“I did,” Zag’s face twisted into a triumphant kind of grimace, “Just got a harpoon in the side for my trouble.”

“A harpoon? Blood and darkness, Zagreus…”

“Sent me right over the side of their damned boat,” he hissed as some of Than’s cleaning came too close, “Storm was up by then, I lost sight of everyone else and...and…”

Than looked up, curious, “Zag?”

“And I ended up with you,” his friend’s voice was faint, his eyes more distant, “I guess the currents just took me where I wanted to go.”

Than’s hands stilled, everything seeming to pause for a moment apart from the rushing of the water from the taps and Zag’s laboured breathing. But the moment passed and he set it to one side, focusing on that calm, the stillness that allowed him to do what needed to be done.

“Well...you’re here now,” he murmured soothingly, “And you’re staying here for the foreseeable. You’re in no condition to be walking around.”

Zag gave a thin laugh, flapping his red gold fins weakly, “You’re telling me.”

“I was more thinking of your oversized new gill,” Than rolled his eyes, “I’ll stitch you up, bandage it and you can shift. Then you’re sleeping for a very, very long time.”

“Aye aye,” Zag murmured, head lolling back against the rim of the tub, “Thanks, Than...and I am sorry I was late. I hope you weren’t waiting for me.”

Than exhaled softly, reaching over and brushing sodden hair back from his forehead. Already he was starting to warm, in from the cold and the wind. Warm and safe and sound.

“Not too long.”

#thanzag #mermaid au #injury mention #blood mention #please comment and reblog!

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omnivorousshipper · 3 years

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Request Friday: Omni we desperately NEED the Shaw Sibs stealing Luke’s oversized hoodies and wearing them.

I’m talking, well-worn, super soft, slightly frayed cuffs, old jerseys from high school/college, REC Leauge sport teams, shirts with stretched out necks, DSS shirts, hoodies with faded “HOBBS” on the back, and the Shaws refuse to admit that this piece of clothing isn’t their own.

Roman freaking out when Owen wears one. Ramsey jealous and wanting one of her own. Deckard smol and tiny, swimming in it and daring to look Luke in the eyes and deny deny deny “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

YES!! I ABSOLUTELY NEEDED THIS TODAY!

This idea just warms my heart so much!! I have so much love for this!!

Just the idea of the Shaws absolutely loving Luke and trusting to the point that they willingly share his things and feel safe in them

And the added bonus of Roman's and Ramsey's reactions?! Magnificent!!

~~~

The first time any of the Shaws wore anything of Luke's was after Deckard stayed over after a night of passion. Luke thought he would have left in the middle of the night

Instead, Deckard had fallen asleep in his arms and they had woken up together in the morning. But when Luke got up and got dressed, he saw that Deckard shivering

Luke had been confused as to how Deckard was shivering in LA weather, but nonetheless he had opened on of his dressers and found a hoodie for Deckard

"Here." He called out and threw the hoodie. Catching it easily, Deckard blinked up at him in surprise. "Wear that."

Not saying a word, Deckard quickly did so, letting the large hoodie fall over him

Smiling, Luke liked the picture he made

The hoodie was huge on him, almost swallowing him whole. The sleeves covered his hands and the bottom of it reached the middle of his thighs. The large DSS logo was loudly presented on his chest, and Luke knew that "HOBBS" was plastered all over his back

"Got something to say, twinkletoes?" Deckard snapped, crossing his arms and glaring

"No." Luke chuckled. "You can keep that if you want."

He would soon learn that was the worst thing he could ever said

---

It had been half a year since then, and Luke never wore that hoodie ever again

But Deckard's brother and sister most certainly have

The first time Luke saw Hattie wearing his hoodie, he nearly fell over laughing. If he thought it looked huge on Deckard, it looked even bigger on Hattie

The collar was stretched and showed off one of her shoulders, while the sleeves completely engulfed her hands

She had glared at him hard when he let out a loud snort of laughter

"Bugger off, I'm cold!"

"Sorry, sorry." Luke tried to contain his chuckles, but was mostly unsuccessful. "Want me to get you something else?"

"Sure."

Picking through his closet, he found a faded, but still warm sweater. It fit her much better

Good thing it wasn't one of his favorites because he never touched it ever again

---

When he had seen Owen wear that hoodie for the first time, he almost bit his tongue off

Who would ever have predicted that Owen Shaw would wear his name on his back?

Owen was grabbing down a bowl to put popcorn in and Luke could clearly see "HOBBS" written on the hoodie

"Got that?" Luke called out

Pulling the bowl down and turning around, Owen narrowed his eyes

"I can reach stuff," he snapped. "I'm not Deckard."

"True. But you're still pretty small." Luke shrugged

"Compared to your arse, I am." Owen snorted. "Make sure to keep your ego in check, Hobbs."

"Hmm." Luke hummed thoughtfully. "I don't think I can when you're wearing my hoodie."

Owen froze in place at that

"It's warm." He mumbled and booked it out of the kitchen, popcorn and bowl forgotten

"Didn't say you couldn't wear it!" Luke called after him, chuckling

Yet another thing he would regret

---

Now, standing and looking over his wardrobe, all of these memories slammed into him

Not only had he willingly handed his clothing over, he had given clear permission to the Shaw siblings that they could wear it

Looking at his half empty closet, Luke really wished he hadn't

He hadn't seen a hoodie in months, along with his sweaters. Meanwhile, his jerseys and long sleeve shirts had started to disappear as well

Luke was getting sick of having to buy more and more clothing

Because where the fuck was it all going?

Surely the Shaws couldn't be taking all of it

Right?

Shaking his head, Luke left his bedroom and walked into the living room. All shoved onto the large couch were the Shaw siblings

Looking at them closely, Luke's eyes narrowed

They were each wearing one of his hoodies

Deckard was wearing a different DSS hoodie, while Hattie was wearing one of his old wrestling hoodies from college, and Owen was wearing his favorite Lakers hoodie

"Alright." Luke said loudly and stood in front of the siblings. "I didn't think I'd need to do this, but I need to set some ground rules with all of you."

"What's wrong, love?" Deckard asked, a hint of worry in his voice

"What's crawled up your arse and died?" Hattie drawled and shared a smug look with Owen

"You three stilling my shit." Luke snapped at her

"What do you mean?" Deckard questioned. "We don't steal your stuff."

"My clothing?" Luke said dryly

"What does that mean?" Owen snorted

"You're all wearing my hoodies right now!" Luke gestured wildly at the three

"I don't know what you mean." Hattie said, voice entirely too innocent sounding

"Yeah, I think you need your eyes checked, Hobbs." Owen nodded along

Deckard suspiciously said nothing

"Look, I don't know why you're wearing them, but stop taking them. I'm running out of clothes." Luke sighed

"That sounds like a you problem." Hattie shrugged

Luke narrowed his eyes dangerously

None of the Shaws blinked an eye

---

Walking out of his kitchen and holding his and Owen's drinks, Roman could help but keep smiling

It felt like it had been forever since he and Owen have gotten a proper movie night

Roman opened his mouth to ask what Owen wanted to watch first when he spotted his boyfriend standing in the living room

With his back to Roman

That clearly had the name "HOBBS" written on it

Roman froze and nearly dropped the drinks in his hands

He could only stand there and stare

Why the hell was Hobbs' name on his boyfriend?!

The question kept going through his head, going in circles. Until...

"Ro?" Owen called out, taking the drinks from Roman's hands. "You good?"

Roman choked on his words and shook his head

"Hoodie."

Owen frowned

"What about it?"

"Why-why are you wearing it?" Roman yelped

"Because I'm cold...?"

"But why are you wearing Hobbs' hoodie?" Roman nearly shouted. He couldn't help waving his arms for emphasis

Owen's frown deepened. Twisting his back, he looked at the hoodie and blinked

"Oh."

"Oh?!" Roman snapped. "What the hell does that mean, Oh?"

Owen shrugged

"Guess I took it when I was visiting Deck. What's the big deal?"

"You don't wear another man's name on you, Owen!" Roman yelped. "You should be wearing my name!"

"But your jumpers aren't as big." Owen said

"Then I'll buy you big ones!" Roman said exasperated

"Really?"

"Yes!"

"Thanks, babe." Owen smiled and gave him a kiss before sauntering back over to the couch, Hobbs' name still evident on his back

Roman could only shake his head

---

"Hatts?" Ramsey called out, her words almost muffled as she tried to stiffle her laughter. "What the bloody hell are you wearing?"

"A hoodie." Hattie said simply

As if the piece of clothing almost covered half of her body

Curled up in a chair, Ramsey couldn't believe how adorable her girlfriend looked

"But why is it so big?"

"Cause it's Hobbs'." Hattie shrugged

Ramsey nodded. That made since, especially with how big the man was

Looking Hattie over, Ramsey's smile grew bigger

"Want to snag me one sometime?"

Hattie's eyes lit up

"No need. I already have a dozen."

Ramsey could only laugh

~~~

I hope you enjoyed friend!! I love this idea so much!! I will always include the Shaws wearing Luke's clothing in all my fics!

#shobbs #rowen #rattie #deckard shaw #luke hobbs #owen shaw #hattie shaw #roman pearce #Ramsey #hobbs and shaw #asks #omni answers #omni writes

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elysicndrcvm · 3 years

Text

━♡ guess the 23 YEAR OLD FEBRUARY baby just arrived to dallyeog! it makes sense, because CHU EUNHA is just as BEDAZZLING as the month of FEBRUARY. wait, why do they remind me of JACOB BAE? beyond that, they seemed JOYOUS and SAVVY upon first glance. i heard someone say they’re sort of DELICATE and QUIXOTIC though. i hope they get acquainted here in COMPLEX 1 / APARTMENT 0215 / FLOOR 3 ; HE seem(s) to have a lot going on with HIS job as a PATISSERIE OWNER/NUTRITIONAL SCIENCE STUDENT. ( ez, 21, she/they, gmt. )

well hey there !! im ez but you fellow dallyeogers can call me ezzy, i have been in dallyeog before so some may remember me as having someone v different to my new bb i bring u now, i joined before with miss tam carmen !! anygays i return with this lil angel who i am all ‘ i say that’s my baby and i’m proud ’ over already even tho i literally came up with him like two days ago. you can find his pinboard here ( which btw i fuckeN love like he’s so aesthetic to me u go king ) and i made him a lil playlist which u can vibe to here. you can learn more about him under the cut but he’s a super soft-hearted gentle dove of a muse and quite...simple for me ?? sdhdh that’s not the right wording but U GET IT djjflg he isn’t super full of angst or trauma he’s just kinda viBIN livin his best life so that’s fun !! but ye without further ado:

so as u kno from his app he owns a patisserie, it’s his lil babey and he is very dedicated to his craft and makin sure all his ideas for the place and the baked goods he sells are like rlly quirky and avant-garde. like he is so passionate about it u dont even KNOW, he tries to make sure most of the stuff on his menu is something like fun and new u wouldn’t get at just any old patisserie or cafe and that it’s super varied and also kinda aesthetic af? the place is very like trendy. it’s called patisserie d’elysian cause ya know he’s an extra biTCHH and proud.

he has three pupperino’s. all as adorable as each other, snickerdoodle is his golden lab and often ppl shorten it down to snickers, butterscotch is his dapple daschund pup, shortens the name to scotchie often. toulouse is his fancy toy poodle boi, shortens the name down as toto. if u are on the shortened name basis with his pups then u can consider urself one of his close pals.

he’s actually adopted by his aunt but she raised him like she was his mother so that is what he considers her, she’s on his mother’s side but they are half-siblings. in terms of first name reasoning as well she just liked eunha as a name and didn’t even think about how it is traditionally for a female, she liked that it meant gift from heaven so it stuck. his father is still around, he’s just quite elderly so it felt like a better living situation for him to be raised primarily by his auntie. unfortunately his mother has passed on but no tragic story, she just went peacefully in old age.

he dyes his hair quite often, it’s currently like a really pastel blue with black streaks consistently throughout like lil ones so it looks super cool. but he’s also had it be a more electric blue, lilac, and a duck egg kinda faded silvery blue. it’s naturally dark brunette. has brown eyes kind of a hazel hue.

his style is kinda androgynous ig?? he just lives for soft retro fashion, lots of color in his wardrobe but also lots of tapered short and t-shirt fits frequented, sweater vests, rolled up jeans, high skater boi socks, soft jumpers with shirts, shirts in bright colours or satiny texture worn over plain white t-shirts, cardigans, pastel denim jackets, jeans with printed patterns on like clouds, flowers etc, favors yellow and blues. sometimes does eye makeup, occasionally wears heels bc he’s a baddie or super heeled boots/chunky shoes.

obsessed with music, can play violin and guitar. he’s a big mitski and rina sawayama fanatic, likes anything that sounds peaceful or calming or has like a good fun vibe to it. also likes the trademark gay icons like carly rae jepsen, lorde, etc. he’s not ashamed. obsessed with mamma mia movies. but also likes rap which is rlly funny cause its like the bad bitch female rappers only and like he’ll listen to it while arranging his sock drawer or making his bed or something ajdjdj it’s like hype anthems for being a baddie and a hoe and he’s just doing his night sleepy routine adkfkf.

showers, blankets, music, baked goods especially bagels are his happy places.

very much a sensitive lil romanticist, falls in ‘love’ like five times a day, he just likes to giggle and smile around pretty people and admire the artwork hnghdh, he’s like yeARNS though ya know?? like he’s all i will flirt by making prolonged eye contact, i made you a playlist, this song makes me think of you etc. it’s either memes as flirting with him or elaborate love letters u never know what ur gonna get akdkd.

awful sense of humour, loves his friends more than anything on earth except his pups, would fully live in a huge house of just like his pups and all his closest buds for all eternity. likes fruits way too much, enjoys puns about fruits way too much. milkshakes, sushi, orange hues and bus rides are some of his absolute favorite simple pleasures of life. clouds, flowers, salt lamps, the sunrise over the sea, skateboarding, fresh soda, teddy bears, busy street markets, parasols, fish tanks with exotic fish, sorbet, bike riding, polaroids, record players, rain at night against floor to ceiling windows with a fresh steaming pot of tea on the desk beside it and warm fresh sheets from the laundry on his bed, ponds, skateboarding. all little joys in life that give him like the biggest pleasure dopamine hit in the world.

his cousin actually owns a florists so he has flowers just littering his apartment like a lot and it just looks like he has ten million suitors from the late eighteenth century attempting to court him but no all these flowers are from him to him or worse from his aunt djfjg she sends him some for valentines every valentines, pls help him, pls send him flowers.

studies nutritional science and he fucken hates it. do not ask him shit cause he doesn’t KNOW OKAY? he doesn’t understand it either. he took it because he needed something to go alongside the passion for baking that was a real ‘qualification’/job so that is the only reason he’s doing it. no point doing a baking degree after all when he’s already a baker with a business, he’s super young still he gotta keep his prospects open. so YAH. he’d rather be doing culinary arts but eh. nutritional science sounded better and more logic based. the real miracle is he still gets top grades all the time even tho he spends his life like wtf am i even doing is this even legit akdkdk. school is the worst thing in the world for him watch his mood instantly deflate the second its brought up.

despite being a quixotic, he’s a lil afraid of intimacy. like oh god does he love it, those small touches and acts of affection u kno? the subtle things that normally go unnoticed, eye contact, brushing of hands, linking of little fingers, rubbing a thumb, kissing eyelids or foreheads or palms or shoulders in little gentle pecks, back massages and rubs or finger tracing patterns absent-minded, shoulder massages, laying your head on someone’s shoulder or on their lap, knocking knees together, exchanging a small glance only the two of you get before bursting into laughter, smiling into kisses, napping together, having blankets placed over you warm and fresh, or towels put ready like it, someone making you something they know you like a lot. that’s his sHIT. but like he’s terrified still, someone skimming their fingers on his skin makes his breath hitch like he’s a scandalized and alarmingly aroused victorian woman sjdjd. he’s literally still a virgin, he hasn’t even had his first kiss okay my baby is delicate be gentle with him akdkd but he still LIKES PASSION AIGHT kfkf.

real soft spoken, honey tinted voice like i shit u not this boy talks like he’s an angel sent from heavens above to guide you to the paradisaical garden of eden or some shit akdkd. ur gonna fall in love with eunha’s voice before u even fall in love with any other part of him like his adorable beaming smile or stunning eyes akdkf.

has dance parties around his room when getting ready in the morning, listens to bella’s lullaby unironically yes from twilight yes u heard right, bit of a himbo streak sometimes in his obliviousness djfjf. quite silently subtly funny actually much like jacob himself.

he is gay, afraid of driving, cannot do math, blanks out often and he is valid for all of those things. has a collection of cartoon and disney animal movie dvds. has a dream notebook. always has blue painted nails in some kinda shade.

does not enjoy turning in assignments bc he is scared he’ll fail, avoids looking at his grades for weeks after they’re released and hates knowing that they’re out.

cannot dance, dances often. collects vintage stuff esp clothes and mostly sweaters. likes midnight trips to corner stores and fields where he can just lay and look at the stars. makes friends rlly easily but has super bad performance anxiety. cannot ever have a messy room like even the tiniest bit messy. even like clothes being stacked on a chair instead of away.

bakes peanut butter, banana and choc chip muffins (they r called monkey bites normally) whenever he’s super stressed. if u want to cheer him up when he’s anxious or stressed then u should give him french lavender honey, chia seeds and caramelized pear on toast/bagel. it is his comfort food. he fancii when he needs a pick me up. treat urself and all that.

#dallyeog:intro #i'm literally in love with him he's the softest most goodest boi muse i have ever made and i just #im that meme of the samari sword guy with the cat in his arms akfkfk #IVE ONLY HAD EUNHA FOR TWO DAYS BUT IF ANYONE HURTS HIM I WILL KILL THEM AND THEN MYSELF AKKDK

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extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years

Note

Bucky with a reader who has a cold with very fall hot tea and cozy sweater vibes?

(some 18+ mentions)

bucky sometimes forgets that he’s dating a regular human and not a super soldier

she’s as skilled, if not more skilled than him, steve and natasha all together having trained under the leadership of both agent carter and agent hill

therefore bucky forgets she’s not immune to things

this illusion was shattered during a late october day

bucky was cuddled up on the couch, alpine sleeping in his lap as they watched an old movie from his youth while y/n had gone out to get some apple tea because “bucky you cannot do fall without apple tea”

he offered to go to the shop and grab it for her but his girlfriend was much too stubborn to listen

as the movie came to an end, the door was abruptly open and alpine jumped off his lap to go greet y/n

he turned his head to the side expecting the hello kiss she always gave him but instead she stood there, soaked too the skin and sniffling, broken umbrella in one hand and soaked brown paper bag in another one

“doll, what happened?” “the wind was too strong, broke my umbrella” “i can see that, why didn’t you come back home” “i need ...” before she could finish her sentence, she sneezed “i needed tea” “oh, baby, come here”

bucky likes taking care of y/n and he doesn’t get many chances to do so

if they’re on the battlefield there is a 90% chance she will be the once rescuing him from a situation

if they’re cooking, well ... bucky can’t cook. he just can’t. he can do everything but cooking? he tried it once for valentine’s day and almost burned the kitchen down.

he can’t even help her zip her clothes down because she designed a method to do such thing when she was alone at shield’s academy

however, he now had a chance to take care of her, he could take care of her when she was sick

y/n, however, headstrong and independent as always decided she didn’t need any help

which ended up with her losing the strength in her legs as she leaned up to grab some cold medicine from the cabinet due to the sickness

“BUCK?” he heard her yell out his name and he got to the kitchen quickly to see her leaning against the fridge “baby what happened?” “my body betrayed me” “i thought only i could get your body to betray you” “it’s not funny bucky” “let me take care of you, baby” “i don’t need you to take care of me, bucky. you’ll get sick” “i can’t get sick.” “well i’m sure i’ll come up with a different excuse” “i’m not gonna be your burden” “you’re my girlfriend please allow me to do something for you” “is eating me out not enough?” “y/n” “fine but don’t get used to this, old man. i can still kick your ass” “that you can, baby.”

bucky drew a bath for her with her favourite salts and gels, he even got her cozy in her favourite jumper of his and then got her to join him and alpine in the couch

“is that my apple tea?” “well you did say we can’t do fall without apple tea” “can we watch letters to juliet?” “yes, doll, we can do whatever you want” “i’m starting to think i should get sick more often”

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supposed2bfunny · 4 years

Text

2doc Week Day 5-Quarantine

This one’s a tad longer, so putting it under a ‘read more.’ Just some really insipid shenanigans for this day’s prompt!

“You ready, Muds?”

“This is an astonishing waste of time, Stu—”

“On three, then?”

“…fine.”

“Great! One, two, three…go!” 2D jumped out of his room, a little confused to find that Murdoc was already standing in the hallway, staring at him. “Hey, you cheated.”

“I came out on three, you came out on go. You just said ‘on three—‘"

“Well yeah, but you count to three and then you—”

“Nevermind,” he cut him off, smirking. “Mate, you look ridiculous.”

“You’re one to talk!” 2D clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle the giggle that threatened to end the sentence in a highly undignified high pitch.

Murdoc was dressed in the clothes 2D had worn in their “Saturnz Barz” video, complete with a pair of blue trousers that looked uncomfortably tight, belted way above his paunch, and a black button-down, opened to reveal a tempting tuft of coarse hair. His chest looked alien without his usual upside-down cross. Without thinking, the singer reached up to his own chest, where the cross sat between his skin and the worn material of Murdoc’s striped jumper.

“Those pants look more like capris on you!” the bassist cackled, pointing at his bare ankles.

“Shut up! The jumper suits me quite well, don’t you think? The color brings out my hair. Least I don’t look like the male whore in some B-movie!”

“Mate,” Murdoc was still laughing, and having a hard time getting his words out. “You can’t say I look like a whore when I’m dressed as you!”

“I wore that outfit better than you!”

“Great, so can we agree that we both look completely mental?”

“I don’t think that’s entirely fair; I think I pull off your frumpiness like a model!”

“That jumper was designed for someone with a complexion more like my own.”

“Green, you mean green skin?”

“Well, I guess green is a state of mind,” he grumbled, scratching his chin thoughtfully. “So slip into that mindset, turtledove, because for the rest of the day, you’re me.”

“Oh, I’ve had two decades to observe you, Muds,” he replied casually, leaning against the doorframe. “All I have to do is act drunk, shout every hour or so about how great my band is, and go out of my way to grate on everyone’s nerves. Easy. Think that mastering the nuance of my enigmatic personality will be way harder for you.”

The bassist-turned-frontman rolled his eyes and moved to brush past him. “All I have to do is not think for the rest of the day. This’ll be a bloody vacation, pet.”

“Hey wait, before we start officially, give me a kiss,” he requested, catching the shorter man by the simple gold necklace—his necklace—around his neck, dragging him in closer and pausing as their lips hovered over each other.

“Am I kissing you as Murdoc, or as 2D?”

“As hot as a little 2D-on-2D action sounds, I want a kiss from my boyfriend.”

“Needy bitch,” he chuckled, but he obliged, pressing the taller man against the wall and kissing him languidly, reaching underneath that hole-filled sweater to trace the cross against his boyfriend’s chest. “Let’s stick a pin in that idea, huh? Now then, shall we pop off? There’s a certain drummer I’m dying to pester with my extensive knowledge of zombie flicks.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll go see if Noodle notices the difference—oh, careful!” He reached out quickly and caught the shorter man as he tripped over his slightly-too-big shoes. “Watch it, luv. Being me is a right safety hazard.”

Grinning mischievously, the two parted ways, and the man formerly known as 2D made for the living room, where Noodle could be found flipping through a magazine.

“Noods!” he crowed, doing his best to sound gruff and Stoke-on-Trent-y. “I’ve got some grrreat news! I tried a new skin-care product and it took decades off my skin. I’d say I look at least twelve years younger: what do you think?”

She glanced up and frowned. “What fresh stupidity is this?” she asked.

“Stupidity? Don’t be so rude, poppet, I look good don’t I? Don’t worry; there’s no shame in admitting that a bloke so many years your senior is more attractive than you, really.”

“2D,” she sighed. “Why are you impersonating Murdoc?”

“Impersonating? I am Murdoc!”

“Sure you are. And is Murdoc also Murdoc, or is he 2D?”

“Um…wait, I’m confused…” he paused to try and track what she’d just said, and he realized that he had completely broken character. “Sod this! Your questions just show that you’re…you’re confused by my superior genius!” Yeah, that sounded about right.

She tapped the magazine on her lap impatiently. “I’m trying to gauge my astrological compatibility with Tessa Thompson right now,” she said. “Can you come back to be annoying and strange later?”

“Er…but I…”

“Get lost, Murdoc.”

She’d done it! She’d acknowledged his acting skills! Satisfied, he pumped his fist in celebration. “Right, enjoy flipping through that trashy magazine telling you what nail polish color will make Tesla love you! I’m going to sit here and watch my soaps!”

“It’s…nevermind.” She sighed, looking like she had a lot more to say, but no energy to say it, and ‘Murdoc’ cheerfully flounced across the room to grab the remote, moving with more spring in his step than he’d had in decades.

Meanwhile, Russel was in the kitchen, preparing himself a hoagie of epic proportions, having been inspired by one of his favorite cooking shows. Just as he was debating whether to opt for dill or bread and butter pickles (or both? life was short), a nicotine-laden pair of lungs cleared themselves right behind him.

“Oh no,” he said, spinning around. “I’m having ‘me time:’ whatever stupid scheme you’re up to, it can damn well wait, Murdo—” he froze, pickle jars in hand, and after a moment, he bent over in a ground-shaking belly laugh. “You look ridiculous!”

“W-wot d’yew mean, Russ?” he asked, pressing a finger to his lips in an attempt to look juvenile. “It’s me, 2D, innit?”

“Murdoc, that belt looks like it’s constricting your ribs, and your belly is about to pop out. What gives?”

“Nuffink gives, just fought I’d try on my old cloves from ‘Saturnz—”

“Man, if you don’t stop talking like that immediately, we’re going to have bigger problems than whatever wardrobe malfunction this is.”

“Easy, easy, big guy! I’ll cut back on the Cockney accent! Fortunately I’ve picked up the ability to speak a bit better in recent years. Can you understand me now?”

“Not at all,” he said dryly. “Why are you dressed like 2D?”

“Mate, I am 2D! The adorable and absentminded singer for our band!” the dark-haired 2D insisted stubbornly.

Russel stared at him, ready to launch into yet another insult. Then he considered the two pickle jars in his hands. “So uh,” he shrugged. “What day of quarantine is it?”

“Oh, seventy-three or seventy-four, something like that. But who’s counting?”

“So you two are just messing around because you’re bored.”

“Well, it’s more fun than making a sandwich, wouldn’t you say?” he asked, smirking, realizing 2D wasn’t really the smirking type, and settling on a softer smile.

Russel weighed his options, and decided the prospective entertainment value was too good to pass up. “Well then, ‘Dee,’ do you want to make this monster sandwich with me? You can regale me with stories of what it’s like in your head the whole time.”

Murdoc—no that wasn’t right—‘2D’ beamed at him and nodded. “I’d love nothing more! Could probably use some extra calories, frail little waif of a man that I am.”

“Oh yeah,” Russel agreed, playfully patting his middle-aged potbelly. “You’re a real waif. Now grab the mustard.”

“You got it, Russ! Yellow or spicy?”

“Yes!”

Several hours later found the singer and bassist reunited in 2D’s bedroom. They sat together, swapping their clothes back piece-by-piece: first 2D pulled the striped jumper over his head, then Murdoc unbuttoned the black shirt as though he were giving a strip tease. They giggled the whole time, each looking particularly relieved when their pants came undone and they could step into comfortable sweatpants once again.

“I’d say outfit-swap was a roaring success!” Murdoc said cheerfully, grabbing a sip of a lukewarm beer sitting on the bedside table.

“I don’t know about that…I think Noodle and Russel were just humoring us.”

“Well at first, sure,” he conceded, gracing the singer with a kiss as he reverently returned his cross necklace to him. “But I think that as we really got into character, they forgot that we were simply acting. Once this quarantine ends, we should head back to LA and reconsider the whole movie star thing!”

“I’ll pass on that,” he replied, pulling a face, then falling down onto his bed, motioning for Murdoc to finish his drink and join him. The older man happily obliged, and the mattress creaked slightly at their combined weight as they cuddled together. “So…what are we going to do tomorrow to annoy the others?”

“We could speak only in riddles the whole day!”

“What if I’m not smart enough for that?”

“Was that a riddle?” Murdoc asked, cackling as he got a poke in the ribs for the comment. “Gentle, gentle! I’ve got it: let’s speak the way people write your dialogue online.”

“Not the super Cockney?”

“That’s right! Let’s speak like Dick Van Dyke attempting to sound like a proper Brit! That’ll be a right laugh!”

“You’re so cruel: what did Noodle and Russel do to deserve you as their bandmate?”

“Hey,” he teased, “you were in on today’s game.”

“Fine, I’ll consider the Cockney schtick, but I think you can do better. Keep working on it.”

“Yes sir,” he agreed, nuzzling into the singer’s neck. “So, we still have the night ahead of us: what did you want to do?”

2D was quiet for long enough that he began to get a little suspicious. “Stu? Simple enough question, luv. What’s on that pretty mind of yours?”

“I was just thinking, Muds…” another long bout of silence.

“Yes?” he prodded.

“Would you still be up for that 2D-on-2D action we were joking about earlier?”

Murdoc pulled away from him abruptly, and he scrambled to follow the bassist, to apologize for the stupid suggestion. As he opened his mouth to voice his mortification and backtrack, Murdoc caught his eye with a playful smirk and slowly pulled his necklace off. “Mate,” he said, voice unusually high, like he was trying to imitate someone else, “I fought yew’d neva ask!”

#2doc #2doc week #2doc fanfiction #sorry it's just a shitpost i'm running out of steam bigtime lol #niccalpot

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anonil88 · 4 years

Text

“This isn't prison break.”parts 1 & 2

Rue runs away for a night from rehab with a bunch of people she doesn't know. They go to a club, do some stupid stuff and adopt a cat.

wrote this and put it on AO3- lnk here- but also updating on here:

PART 1

Rue laughs absently at the other group of "degenerates" as Ali would call them. They are walking along the side of the road towards wherever a kid named Malcolm was leading them. She technically was supposed to be in her small dorm bed asleep and awaiting 4 am check in. But instead here she was being a fellow degenerate who had technically escaped the rehab facility. They all intended on going back to the treatment facility eventually. She hopes Sol would even though it meant they probably would be separated. They all just needed a night of more because everyone was on edge and needed a break. Everyone was aware that the consequences would be getting kicked out or all restrictions taken away. But, fuck it.

Her group of acquaintances, because they were not her friends, was made up of a random assortment of folks. One of which was some guy named Graham who was apparently the older "brother" of Angel. Angel was the only one out of the group besides her roommate who actually knew more than whatever she half assed in group therapy. Which was very little but it was enough to keep them.... interested. Rue shoves her hands in the pockets of a pair of baggy shorts that Angel threw at her in a parking lot after everyone met back up. Their escape plan was a plan but they all booked it through a hole in the fence and through a patch of woods at first. Some person named Bones, who had to at least be a sophomore in college, picked them all up in a hatchback and the Graham who opened a backpack filled with vices.

Rue steered clear of the opiates and went straight for the bottle of Coconut Rum. Even though she could practically hear the pills singing her fucking name. Most of them actually opted to be clean of whatever landed them in rehab but not sober. Not everyone though because Angel was definitely rolling a tiny bit and so were two other people out of the 5 fence jumpers. Including her roommate Sol. Rue just figured the slap on the wrist once they got back would be less harsh without a positive test. The rum was more than enough to stay kind of alert amongst everyone here. All these faces that might leave her dying face down in a ditch if she OD’ed....again.

She wasn't even in here because of an overdose. Just a basic relapse that made her mom's mind up for her and now she was forced into a stupid facility with strangers. They forced her to talk, made sure she ate, but she honestly felt worse being inside than out. It was probably working the 12 steps and quiet therapy sessions but in places she didn't see yet. This right here though the warmth of the air touching her skin as the packed car they'd all tumbled into hurtled through empty streets. Leaning her head back she mumbles along the lyrics while Sol pulls at the worn shirt collar.

"Beep beep go swerving in my, Beep been you want me riding in your...."

Rue sighs feeling sticky lips press against her clavicle and up her neck.

"Beep beep ghost busting in my,

Beep beep you want me riding in your....driving super fast."

Sol was cool people but Rue knew it couldn't be anything more than fooling around. Kissing when no one was watching or either of them came back from a therapy session sobbing. Sometimes Sol sneaking into her bed at night so they could have quickie sex sessions. This wasn't how Rue expected to explore her sexuality that was pretty dormant but it was what she had. It also wasn't with who she had in mind either. Lingering feelings aside the two of them were stuck in a juvenile inpatient program. With the same beds as the ones in college pamphlets, a no shoelace rule, and fuzzy socks ( that Rue secretly loves). This girl was like 3 inches shorter than Rue, dark skinned, neck tattoos and a short cut. Sol had been through so much more shit than Rue and it made her feel ungrateful. Ungrateful because at least she had a hard working mom who still loved her and hadn't abandoned all hope. Other people in the program who took it seriously though told her not to because her life sucked too.

Feeling Sol's lips on hers she kissed her back. She didn't feel anything but it must have felt amazing to Sol who deepened the kiss. The car swerved past what in Rue's mind had to be a pothole. Sol falls away further into her body clutching the fabric of her shirt and accidentally her chest. Rue hears Sol sigh and snaps her eyes open while Sol still kisses her. Rue grabs hold of the handle above the door and sits back up mumbling, what was that. She watches Sol roll her eyes and sit back into the tan seats.

"Oh FUCK," Bones yelled slowing the car down and pulling over. Bones had their black hair slicked all the way back and a cigarette falling out of their mouth. They were odd enough sober and everyone's dd, just a ball of chaotic a.d.d they'd laughed at her earlier as they walked her from the gas station bathroom back to the car. It was a nice gesture because apparently she seemed "kind of uncomfortable," which was true. The urge to escape herself dulled the fear of her mother's true unbridled anger. Or Fez's.

He was really upset when he found out she got a new plug after actually being clean for so long. She turns to look out the back window and sees two green eyes attached to a small grey mound in the road.

"What the....omg a cat omg," Angel is practically bouncing out of the car after pulling out a half eaten filet o fish. Rue watches him in an outfit she felt fit him so much more than the basic t-shirt and sweatpants he wore everyday. His platform sneakers lit up across the black asphalt as he inches closer to the obviously terrified animal. A glitter covered arm wove in front of him with food and Rue leans into the window in anticipation. The only thing that could make Angel seem even more angelic was wings or a halo above his half platinum half silver hair. He honestly seemed like the type to fit right into Jules's friend group. But instead he was the kind creative rave kid who drew her pictures of kandy he'd give her one day.

"Hey um...you ," she feels her shoulder being tapped. "Put this in your lap."

PART 2

"Yes! I love this song," Bones yells back rolling down the windows. The cool autumn air filling the car and the smell of weed being blown out the window.

Her heel is bouncing with a mix of anxiety and anticipation. With one more she could become triple A instead of alcoholics anonymous. She can feel a comfortable softness against her sole. It's from a piece of fabric she keeps stuffed in her sock. Her knee keeps bouncing in place with the sleeping kitten being stroked by Sol in her lap. Her current reality is so much more serene than the one she relives in her head.

Arrival nurses took her hoodie at this new place only letting it stay with her the first night. She was so fucking high on check in that she screamed please don't take my dad please as they explained it to her mom. Her mom who she clung to like they were about to skin her alive. Chest rising and falling quick enough someone said something about a shot. Too high to be cold and distant but not enough for her heart to stop. Just enough to be a paranoid fuck up. Leslie tried to calm her down but it only worked after her mom bargained with them, one night.

One night and then her mom visited the next day to say goodbye. Slipping a gray square in her pocket. It was worn in from a t-shirt that her dad wore in her baby pictures. Leslie hugged her so tight before leaving whispering we love you so much. That was the last time she'd seen her mom and every time she called Leslie said oh rue like her heart was breaking again. So those phone calls were short because her mom crying always fucks her up mentally for a few days. The silent pauses remind her of the little sister who always has faith in her but is turning into someone who doesn't even look at her.

"You okay," Sol whispers and rue nods because when was she ever. Her arm that sol is resting on is cramping but she lets it, not much arm space in this back row anyway. She should have just chosen the trunk with some 16 year old named Zach.

"On the left yesss we made it and on time too," Graham jeers next to Sol.

Rue looks at the dash clock crinoline her brow. "How is almost 1 am on time," she whispers.

Sol chuckles, "It is a club not a house party you knew that right ?" Rue bites the inside of her lip and shakes her head no. Sol puckers a bottom lip and kisses her cheek. Great pity Rue thinks. Sol leans in to whisper to Rue, "Don't worry Graham knows the bouncer. No fakes required."

Rue opens back up the glass bottle in the seat net and lets the clear liquid burn her throat a bit. Out of her realm was an understatement, house parties were something she was used to but never clubs. She didn't even know what kind of club this was but judging from the giant rainbow flag out front, angry repressed frat bros wouldn't be an issue. Which helped the nerves in her stomach unwind. The fur ball on her lap made a noise and she rubbed it through the sweater it's been laid on. Sol said the kitten was probably dumped because there was a tag scar and the kitten was super clean. But was she risking it....no.

Sol takes the bottle from her hand and screws the cap back on. "You gonna dance with me tonight Benny." Sol says as she nudges her shoulder.

"Maybe," Rue shrugs.

" Okay well how about anyone else," Sol grins coyly.

Rue looks away from her and out the window. She's more interested in the brick building as they get closer than someone's hot sweaty body. There's a line to the door with several guards standing with gloved hands and flashlights. " Idk maybe," Rue looks back at Sol who is rolling her eyes.

" Yes she is," Angel yells from the passenger seat. He's checking his makeup in the mirror and winks at rue. Which makes her tuck her hair behind her ear and cough to cover the blush. Angel turns around happily and says, "meee.'

Leaning forward Sol pecks Angel and says, " Bennett your goal tonight is to have fun, dance with someone. He, she, they, who cares, maybe you'll get a lil prison pen pal."

Rue rolls her eyes, that probably wasn't happening but it was about trying new experiences. Treatment was also not prison; it just was not freedom either. Bones pulls past the entrance and swings into the parking lot. Graham is behind them pointing as they follow directions. He's even saying fun facts like this is Knott's which Angel keeps mimicking. Bones slowly moves the car until one guard leans his hand in the window. The guard daps Graham up and they laugh for a second. His name is apparently DJ and he's their in. The only rules are no weapons.

In the parking lot they all get put and Rue notices other cars with clusters of people around them. She shakes her lap free of cigarette ash and cat hair. The cat now named sparkle is being in the trunk with a makeshift bed, a small can of tuna Bones just had and an old bottle lid filled with water. Rue leans down and ties the mismatched dollar store laces on her chucks. They had hot dogs on them which was kind of cute. A tire squeals close by of a car obviously moving way too fast and drunk singing out a window speeds past them. Idiots. Everyone else was finishing a shared bottle or blunt. Leaning against the side of the trunk she feels Sol rest against her arm warming it up.

Rue can hear a steady thump and beat coming from the brick building. It makes her head move which means the music might not be her thing but it'll be tolerable. Graham even said there's another section with actual seats that has a more contained dance floor with pop and hip-hop. Just in case she got overwhelmed by the rave scene and the lights. She doubles over as she laughs at Angel's jokes.

Kid was fucking hilarious, she stands up wiping her eyes and freezes looking in front of her.

#rue bennett #rue euphoria #jules vaughn #jules euphoria #original character #euphoria hbo #euphoria #euphoria fanfiction #euphoria fanfic #my wriitng #fanfiction #club tw #rue #jules #rue x jules

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swellwriting · 4 years

Text

death and other drugs - part one

The Destiny of James Potter

A/N: Okay so a long time ago I saw a post about a grim reaper au for 5sos, back in those fandom days and I have never been able to get it out of my head so I’m finally writing a fic that is heavily inspired by my memory of that post, though I can not find it, just know some other human has inspired me to write this, somewhere out there…also Harry doesn't exist cuz idk what I’d do with him in this story. This is modernized sort of, and it deters from canon obviously, I make my own rules for the afterlife. Reader will be in the next part!

The Marauders x Reader / Grim Reaper Au. Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: violence, death, drugs, mature themes. Mentions of drug use but I am Canadian so weed is super legal here fyi.

Destiny is a funny thing, some people believe in it, some don’t. If you asked James Potter a few days ago what his destiny was he would probably tell you something super mushy about Lily like his destiny was to find her and marry her and build a family with her, but things change and no one controls their own destiny.

The door to their small home in Godric’s Hollow is broken down with a silent bang that shakes the floor under his feet, Lily rushes upstairs to hide and James is determined to keep his wife safe. A green flash of light fills the small home and James Potter’s eyes roll into the back of his head as he hits the ground and everything goes black. He didn’t even stand a chance.

His head becomes an empty void of nothingness for what seems like forever and simultaneously no time at all.

Until he feels his soul leave his body, he feels light, he opens his eyes and he feels hollow and barely there, his feet planted on the ground but he feels as if he could fall through the ground. He holds up a hand and looks at his palm, his skin looks faded and he can see through his skin.

“James Potter, your destiny has arrived.”

“Destiny... what? Where am I? Wheres Lily?” The questions fall out of his mouth in a mess of words and worry.

“None of that matters, it’s time to face your destiny.”

A cloaked figure appears before him in the never-ending white room he appears to be in. It’s faceless and holds a scythe, almost the same appearance as the dementors from Azkaban. But he didn’t commit a crime?

“The title is being passed, it is going to you, it is your destiny to guide the dead to the afterlife.”

“Woah wait, I don't accept, I don't want that job,” he stutters in disbelief before deferring to humour not knowing how to handle this information, “that sounds like a shit gig mate, no offence. I never sold my soul or anything why me?”

“A greater force has decided.”

“A greater force? No way, this is all some stupid dream, I’m gonna wake up and Lily is gonna be okay and she will be beside me in bed and everything will be fine.” James takes a deep breath as he closes his eyes.

“It is not an option and even if it was you can never go back to that life, you are dead. Your wife is dead.”

“What?” James’ heart drops, it was inevitable that Voldemort would kill her after him, she wouldn't be able to stop Voldemort, “where is she?” James turns and looks behind him as tears fill his eyes, panic fils his voice and his heart feels like a million pounds in his chest.

“She’s already gone,” The figure, this personification of death pulls out what looks like an enchanted short scroll. “Lily Potter, witch, angel, was taken to heaven by angels two minutes ago-”

James gulps, at least she was going to heaven, at least she wasn’t in a situation like this.

“I thought it was your job to bring people to the afterlife.”

“Not my job, it’s your job now. And only some people, it’s a shared job. Angels handle heaven and demons handle hell, I do both, or you do now.”

“Great!” James yells sarcastically, he can’t even properly mourn his wife because he’s found himself in such a weird fucked up situation he doesn't even know how to react to any of it.

The figure hands James a key and he reluctantly takes it, the figure fades away and suddenly James finds himself alone in a dark room. It’s large, there are windows but no light comes in through them, it’s very empty with basic furniture and a letter and an old-looking suitcase on the bed.

He slowly turns and looks around before grabbing the letter which reads.

Congratulations you are the new “Grim Reaper”!

Your position will last until a new replacement is chosen, anywhere from 100 to 100,000 years is the usual duration.

You are currently standing in your new home/ office/ living space. Though you are not really living, you are the personification of death and this place is called the in-between. You can travel to the living world, heaven (only the gates) or to hell using the scythe placed under the bed.

The scroll inside the suitcase will tell you when your next job is, who they are, where to bring them. You won’t receive a new job until one is completed. You can also use it to see lists of the recently deceased, all older inquires can be handled at the main office.

You will also find your uniform inside the case, it is a requirement to be worn when guiding the dead. The scythe can be used as a weapon to defend yourself from the living, the dead and the various things you may encounter in between.

In this current state, you still have your magic abilities you had during life and can use them however you see fit.

For any questions or inquiries please call our main office at 1-800-666-DEAD, or email me [email protected] , ask for Lana!

Sincerely, Afterlife HeadQuarters,

- Lana Lynch, secretary.

“This is fucked,” James says aloud to himself, he took out the black cloak and holds it out. He lets the material fall to the floor before pushing the case and letter onto the floor and off the bed, lying down and bringing his knees to his chest, hiding his face in his palms and crying himself to sleep.

Not only had he been murdered by an evil dark wizard, but he was now given the task of being the Grim fucking Reaper, not to mention his wife was also killed and he didn’t know if he could ever see her again.

He wondered if he would have been sent to heaven or hell if this problem hadn’t gotten in the way. If he’d be an angel with Lily if they could have spent eternity together. Was Heaven nice? Was Lily happy and at peace or was she frantically looking for James just to find out he’s not even there? And he won’t be coming any time soon.

The apartment in the in-between had grey painted walls, it was the size of a large apartment, it had a small kitchen with smooth tiles, a bathroom and a living area with a large grey bed with black pillows. The decor really was ridiculous, was the grim reaper allowed to have things with colour?

James wakes up and takes a few minutes to open his eyes not wanting to accept reality when he opens them he sees the awful gloomy place, the empty side of the bed and lack of warmth beside him, none of Lily’s wild red hair tickling his face as he pulls her close.

He takes a deep breath and gets himself out of bed, he pushes his messy curls out of his face and cleans his glasses with his sweater. Figures even as the grim reaper he needs these damn things. He grabs the scroll and prepares himself to read the first name, might as well get started, there wasn’t anything else in this apartment to distract him. The scroll was a brown faded short piece of paper rolled into a silver metal tube, he popped off the lid and unrolled the paper.

= Sirius Black, Wizard, destination undetermined, to be decided upon soul retrieval. =

As if things couldn’t get any worse, James’ best friend, Sirius Black was dead. Great. James’ first job as the fucking Grim Reaper was to bring his best friend to the afterlife, even better he got to choose his friend’s fate. He didn’t know that could be part of the job, deciding whether someone got to go to heaven, this sucks.

The tears fell quickly, James was just so tired, he just wanted this nightmare to be over. He was so emotionally drained yet his body still found a way to produce new tears as he fell to his knees and screamed into a pillow.

He doesn't want to put that stupid cloak on, he doesn't want to do this but a thought crosses his mind. Sirius is already dead, from whichever means killed him, probably Voldemort, and he was just in this state of nothingness just stuck waiting for James. With that thought he quickly throws the cloak over his jumper and jeans and old scuffed up converse, he pulls the long hood over his curls and the shadow of the hood hides his face perfectly making him appear like more of an evil shadow than a person.

He leans down and pulls the scythe from under the bed gripping it tightly in his hand. He figures it works somewhat like a wand, with nonverbal magic. He holds it close and wills himself to be transported to wherever Sirius is.

There’s a quick flash of darkness before James finds himself hitting the ground outside a building, his knees ache as he hits the ground and struggles to stand up and fix his cloak.

Sirius’ body is on the ground, he was killed by the killing curse, James can just tell. He must have been doing an order mission. None of his other friends appear to be nearby which makes James feel a tiny bit better.

Sirius isn’t moving so James pokes his foot with the scythe which makes Sirius’ soul leave his body and form his ghost form, hovering over the dead body.

Sirius opens his eyes and looks around, shock evident on his face, trying to accept the fact that he just died.

“Bloody hell,” is all he mumbles.

“Are those your last words?” James asks as he pulls his hood down awkwardly.

“James...mate! What the fuck is going on.”

“You died,” James says awkwardly pointing to Sirius’ dead body

“Yeah, and you and Lily died yesterday, what is going on…”

“I'm the new grim reaper,” James states as calmly as he can and Sirius can’t help but burst into laughter, he doubles over as tears stream out of the corners of his eyes.

“The Grim Reaper!” another burst of laughter.

“Sirius this is ...serious! You died and now I have to bring you to one of the afterlife’s, you’re dead, Lily is dead and she’s an angel and I don't get to be an angel or demon or whatever this is a serious problem Sirus I’m so screwed.”

“Wait do I get to go to heaven?”

“It said undecided, it’s up to me.”

“Well then just don’t kill me mate! Easy.”

“I didn’t kill you!” James yells defensively, “but I can’t just not bring you somewhere, where will you go if I don't? I can’t bring you back to life.”

“I’ll just hang out with you, we can be inseparable just like in real life,” Sirius states so calmly, so certain that this is what he wants for eternity. The words make James break, the tears fall easily as he grabs Sirius in a tight hug and is surprised to actually be able to hold his friend and not have his arms go right through him.

Sirius isn’t as emotional, but he hugs James back and smiles to himself knowing he would follow James anywhere, even in death.

“There’s no afterlife without my best mate!”

James takes a moment to calm himself down as he works things out in his head.

“Okay I’ll just never complete this job and they won’t be able to give me a new one!” James says as he calms his breathing and rolls the scroll up sending it back to his apartment.

“So who will bring all the dead people to the afterlife then?” Sirius asks.

“I don't know I guess the angels and the demons will handle it.” James shrugs not caring about his lack of responsibility.

“They are gonna have their hands full with voldy going around, he’s killed three of us in less than two days already-”

With that realization, both young men look at each other in shock and speak in unison.

“Remus!”

James grabs Sirius’ hand and then holds the scythe, hoping it will bring them to Remus but it doesn’t budge.

“Wait, hold on to this,” James mumbles as he passes Sirius the scythe. James lifts up his cloak and Sirius bursts into laughter yet again.

‘You’re wearing normal clothes under that!”

“Well did you expect me to be naked?” James defends his wardrobe.

“No, I just thought the big bad death guy’s uniform would be more than a black bed sheet with a hood.”

“Shut up,” James mutters as he grabs his wand from his back pocket, he grabs Sirius’ hand and apparates them both to Remus’ small apartment.

Apparently it had been a few hours since Sirius had died, Remus had already heard the news that his other friend had died, he broke two plates in his kitchen, failed to be able to eat any food, made a mess of his apartment and hid himself in his bedroom to wallow in sadness and mourn his dead friends. Oh and to get high enough that everything feels numb and nothing feels real so he can pretend his friends aren't dead and he isn’t actually all alone!

His bedroom door is closed, the coloured light from his lava lamp and led lights reflect on the walls and a mix of smoke and incense fill the air making his room one big faded rainbow cloud.

Remus is sat on his bed hunched over with tears dried to his reddened cheeks, his hair is a mess. He was going to put on a record an hour ago but the one he grabbed he realized had belonged to Sirius and he forgot to give it back so he’s been sat for an hour just starring at it completely zoned out.

“Hey, that’s my fucking record!” Sirius says before even thinking of a proper thing to say to their very much alive friend.

Remus screams at the top of his lungs and throws the record into the air, Sirius catches it.

Remus realizes his dead friend is stood in front of him, holding the object he just had in his hands, his other best friend who was also dead as of yesterday is there in a weird black cloak and holding a giant scythe.

“Fuck this,” Remus mumbles and then lies down in his bead and turns to face the wall, pulling his blanket over his head wanting to just sleep off this bad high.

“Could he see us?” Sirius asks James.

“He’s not supposed to be able to, how strong is that shit he’s smoking?” James says in disbelief.

“Remus!” Sirius yells and watches as Remus brings his palms flat against his ears trying not to hear what he thinks is just a figment of his imagination.

“It’s not real, your friends are dead, it’s not real it’s not real it’s just a bad high a bad high,” he mumbles, a few tears trickle down his face as his hands start to shake.

Sirius and James sit on the bed and gently shake him pulling him to face them again. Remus’ eyes are wide and he looks horrified.

“This isn’t real you are both dead!” Remus is crying as he yells at the figures in front of him.

“This is real and yes, we are both dead...sort of”

“No, if you’re dead you wouldn't be here this isn’t real, I smoked some bad shit, it was laced, must have been I got it from Peter, never take weed from Peter!” Remus shakes his head and hides behind his hands, wiping his scared tears away with the long sleeves of his jumper.

“Remus I’m dead why didn’t you just go take my weed, it’s not like I need it,” Sirius states so matter of factly as if that’s something a normal person would do.

“Are you asking me why I didn’t steal a dead man’s drugs? Oh, I don't know I was a little busy crying over your death to think about stealing your things!” Remus yells, offended and feeling a bit crazy.

“I'm TALKING TO MYSELF!” He yells and then gets up abruptly, pushing the blankets off and going to stand up before being stopped by the presence of his two friends, knocking himself over.

He reaches out a hand and places it flat on James’ face, smudging fingerprint on his glasses. And then gasping as he pulls his hand away.

“We’re real Moony, I promise,” James confirms.

“Okay, you better tell me what the fuck is going on and make it make sense quick or I might bash my head in what the flower pot.”

“Do it!” Sirius yells.

“No merlin, no don't kill yourself for fuck’s sake, Sirius.” James rushes to correct his dumb friend.

“Then he could be one of us?” Sirius asks confused.

“No, then either an angel or a demon would appear to take his soul and he’d be gone.”

“I said make it make sense!” Remus complains, and Sirus and James proceed to sit him down and explain everything they know to him.

The trio made their way to the living room, sitting on the chairs and couch in Remus’ apartment.

“So James is the new Grim Reaper, and Sirius got killed and you are just avoiding taking him to the afterlife for as long as you can.”

“For forever!” Sirius clarifies.

“Okay, so what happens when these, angels and demons notice you aren't doing your job at all?”

“They won’t? And if they do I'm the Grim fucking Reaper, I’m their boss!”

“Are you sure about any of this?” Remus asks and both Sirius and James speak in unison.

“We aren't sure about anything!”

Remus rolls his eyes and plants his face in his palms.

“Remus don't worry about it too much, you are still alive and you just get to hang out with us all the time!” Siriustries to make this sound normal.

“I'm too high to deal with any of this right now, wait why can I see you if you are both dead?”

“We have no idea!” Sirius says with a big dumb smile.

“Great, a lot of information you guys have here.”

“All the information you need is the phone number for the pizza place across the street,” Sirius says as he relaxes back into his seat.

“You’re dead do you really need pizza?”

“I'm like half-dead Moony, please be more sensitive to my condition.”

“Fine, I’ll go get pizza, put the Jurassic park DVD on and roll these.” Remus orders as he tosses Sirius the DVD boxset and hands James his grinder and a pack of papers.

Not much had changed for the boys now that two of them were dead, the way they spent their night wasn’t any different from any of their previous hangouts, and that was the beauty of it, enjoying the little things, like pepperoni pizza and classic dinosaur movies. Maybe this would work.

#the marauders #the marauders x reader #Marauders #James Potter #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #peter pettigrew #marauders era #marauder #maraduers #the marauders era #the marauders fan fiction #death and other drugs #daod #fan fiction #fanfiction #My writing #grim reaper au

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shy-marker-pliers · 3 years

Text

Just Catholic School Things (AKA why i became an atheist at age 11)

PSA: everyone’s religious experience is obviously different. i’m just talking abt my experiences here and i’m in no way speaking for everyone who ever went to a catholic school lol.

Ok my parents are catholic and because of that i went to a small catholic school for eight years (preschool-grade 6) and hoo boy it was Something. tw for religion, religious trauma, all that good stuff.

UNIFORMS UGHHHH (the only colors we were allowed to wear were red, white, black, and sometimes you could get away with very dark navy blue)

you could choose from this wide variety of options: long or short sleeved polo shirt (has to be tucked in), black dress pants or dress shorts. sometimes they’d let you wear a sweater or cardigan but only if it was red or black. you could also wear a jumper dress as long as you had black/white tights and dress shoes. also the dress had to be black and red plaid.

we only got to go without uniforms if we were having pajama day which only happened like once a year, twice if we were lucky.

having to wear clothes like that for so long is probably the reason why i live in hoodies and sweatpants now lol

Asking my mom if she would sacrifice me if god told her to and her saying yes (i was in FIRST GRADE)

crying for hours and saying that i’m going to hell because i lied about having seen a movie (second grade)

teachers deadass saying that u only go to heaven if you’re the right religion (catholic) and even then you still had to follow all the rules or else you’d go straight to hell

having to tell a priest my darkest sins (this was not optional, everyone was required to do this twice a year)

people in my class thinking that you couldn’t be friends with someone if they were a different religion than you

having to learn cursive ughhhh (jokes on them tho cause now i can read cursive but refuse to write in it out of pure spite)

not being allowed to sing non-religious songs for our yearly christmas concert

being required to speak in church (readings, lord hear our prayer, gospel, stations of the cross, etc) which was hell for ppl that have a fear of public speaking.

also along with that we had to sing in the choir and be altar servers (again, this was non-negotiable)

ALSO ALSO whenever there was a funeral at church they would make 3 of the 5th and 6th graders miss recess and lunch and altar serve for it, and since there weren’t a lot of us we all had to do it at least once. i’m talking 10-11 year olds not getting to eat and having to spend an hour and a half plus wearing a whole ass robe in a building with no heating or cooling units full of crying people and a dead body

the only compensation i ever saw for that was a lollipop btw.

im sure that didnt affect anyone in any way

being super fucking clueless about the world around me until like the middle of 7th grade because, whether intentional or not, i was being sheltered

not knowing gay ppl were a thing until 4th grade and only because i overheard my grandma being homophobic and asked what she was talking about

having shit social skills because my entire school, from preschool to 6th grade consisted of about 80 people, including teachers and i had known the same kids since preschool, so i never had to make new friends.

we also had one teacher for multiple grades (for example, 3rd and 4th grade shared a classroom and teacher, 5th and 6th grade did the same)

going to church every week was literally a part of school. every friday we’d get to class, be there for like 10 minutes to listen to morning announcements, and take a 3 minute walk to church. then we’d spend like an hour and a half there and go back to class

and don’t even get me started on lent, advent, adoration, and benediction.

ok i’m gonna get started anyway

fyi advent is the 22-28 days leading up to xmas. lent is 40 days long, not counting sundays, and lasts from ash wednesday to holy saturday (the day before easter).

so every day during lent and advent we all had to gather in the hall or outside and say a decade of the rosary. for those unfamilliar this means saying one our father, followed by ten hail marys, and one glory be. so that’s like 12 minutes of our time that we could’ve been using to idk learn math.

and on fridays and mondays we had to do 2 to make up for the weekend so double the time wasted yayyy

we weren’t really allowed freedom of expression either. we were told what to do, when to do it, and how to do it, and that’s it. even in art class.

i understand art teachers having everyone do the same style of project (ie: make a watercolor paining, sculpt something, etc.) but ours legit had us do THE EXACT SAME THING.

like, one time we were doing origami and instead of being like “ok here’s some paper and some designs to choose from go wild kiddos” the teacher was like “make a crane, a star, and an envelope. they all have to be different colors and you can’t use white or black paper. ok go.”

total bullshit tbh

ill talk more abt her later cuz this is getting long lol

anyways thats my spicy religious trauma 4 u

but jokes on them cause now i’m an nb pan anarcho-communist lmao

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