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obislittleone · 2 years

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House Of Memories (5/?)

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Padawan!reader

Warnings: angst, more nightmares, comfort and slight fluff if you squint

Summary: Your powers can only hold back the bad dreams for so long, and Obi-Wan finds out why they seem to be plaguing your mind.

A/n: Man, y'all really seem to be enjoying this... there will be romantic relations later on I promise but for now, it's gonna be a slow burn till I feel like it... also the age gap rn ain't rlly appropriate lol

Words: 3.1k (back to my better self tbh)

Anakin and Obi-Wan had just returned from the planet of Bracca, coming through the doors of the apartment at an ungodly hour of the night. It was Anakin's first off world mission with the order where he actually got to do something, and from the sounds of loud ruckus they were making, you'd say it went well.

You hadn't been able to sleep very well that night anyways, so you couldn't blame them fully, but it would be easier in the morning to shove off the fact that you were grumpy and restless because of them. You got up out of bed, stepping out the doors to see Anakin doubled over, laughing his poor head off while Obi-Wan smirked from the corner.

"Anakin, look what you've done," Obi-Wan gestured to you in a joking way before walking up a pretending to scold him. "You've woken up the only person who can actually get us in trouble."

Anakin stood up straight, getting out a few more giggles before approaching you with open arms. You stopped him before he could embrace you, seeing as how he looked absolutely high off of something. You knew Obi-Wan would never allow him to indulge in any sort of spice or substance, which meant this buffoon of a padawan was literally so exhausted, he began to lose it, in stitches yet again over your single motion.

"What did you do to him this time?" You asked Obi-Wan, pulling back your braid and letting it lay behind your shoulder.

"Believe it or not, our chosen one has decided to make a complete fool of himself, simply because I stepped out onto the wrong floor as we came up in the elevator."

Obi-Wan couldn't hide his subtle amusement, in all seriousness, it was funny how much Anakin was laughing now, even still after they had finally gotten into the apartment. How he was utterly tired and still had the energy to be this annoying, Obi-Wan would never know. He just hoped that perhaps he would settle down soon so you all could sleep.

"Anakin, at some point tonight, you will have to get over yourself. It probably wasn't even that funny," you complained, growing slightly annoyed with his antics. Your sixteen-year-old mood swings were far and few between, but when you were being kept up longer than you wished to be, because of your friend's stupidity, it was more than enough to make anyone moody.

"You weren't there," he had to break up his words, for now he was so delusional with laughter that he couldn't even finish a sentence. "He was so confused-"

"Yes, Anakin. Because like you, I'm tired."

Obi-Wan wanted more than anything to leave the room, to go to his own and forget about Anakin for the night... but he couldn't do that to you. Mostly because he'd never hear the end of it.

He tugged the boy from the ground, pushing him towards his room, with a soft glare. Even if you shut his door for the night, you wouldn't be able to sleep until he was quiet. Obi-Wan gave you a look that said 'go ahead, you have my permission,' before you walked up and raised your hand to Anakin's head. You used only a small bit of power, and he was out like a light, falling to the ground of his room.

"Now I feel bad, we can't just leave him like this," you pointed to all his limbs, half inside his room and sprawled out wildly.

"I'm too tired to carry him. My days of lifting him at all are probably over."

You did notice Anakin was quite taller now. Bigger than Obi-Wan, as far as you could tell.

"I'll grab his arms," you sighed, walking over and beginning to drag the top half of him into the room, your master following along with his legs.

Once you made it to the bed, you both looked at each other, the looks spoke for themselves, saying 'kriff, no'. Instead, you grabbed a pillow for his head, and a blanket, tossing it to Obi-Wan. You placed the pillow beneath him, while Obi-Wan spread the thin material over the length of his legs and body.

You ran your fingers over the boy's hair, quietly and efficiently making sure that the nightmares were still taken care of. You only sensed the glow of protection that was your signature, keeping guard over his dreams.

"You're good to help him the way you do," Obi-Wan smiled with pride at you. He was proud to call you his padawan, because he knew everything that you had accomplished over the years, under his training and mentorship. He only hoped that one day he'd be able to say he had a small part in how you had grown into the heroic, compassionate Jedi you were.

"He deserves to rest at night, the same as all of us."

Obi-Wan nodded his head to the door, signaling it was time for you to retire as well. You had tried earlier in the night, and been awoken by a small nightmare, but having them both return safely helped ease your mind. You should have no trouble in finding sleep, now.

Once in bed, you thought about your master. All the wisdom he'd been pouring into you lately was surely not by coincidence. You weren't as young as you used to be, on the verge of seventeen, in fact. You knew that whenever your master was giving you lessons on things that need be learned, usually it was followed by a test, or trial of sorts; one that could be used to learn the lesson in its full extent.

You fell asleep on those thoughts, feeling as though you were now too tired to wonder what trial might be coming your way. You felt at peace, floating in a dark abyss, until suddenly you were pulled from your bed. It was still dark, and you couldn't see anything, but the hands that grabbed at you were not familiar. You branched out with the force, trying to gain any knowledge of who was taking you. You screamed out for help, unable to control your powers enough to face them down. Were you weakened? It didn't make any sense. You were quite powerful and could usually take down an enemy, despite them having a size advantage. This time it was harder to focus on one thing at a time, because the darkness soon faded. You were brought into an execution room, with torture devices lining the walls and floors. There were creatures you'd never seen before, chanting the words of death in several languages. You weren't sure how you even recognized some of the words, but you did. Your blood boiled thick when the face of your captor was revealed. It was not human, nor droid, but a robotic mix of the two, with limbs twice as long as yours, standing as tall as a mudhorn but with all the lankiness of a skeleton. You'd heard stories about General Grievous, the tormentor amongst captured Jedi. The one who collected lightsabers from those he'd struck down. You weren't afraid of him, yet. You couldn't even say why, you just looked at him with a glare, hoping that you could be the one to destroy him.

He brought you to the center of the room, shoving you away from him, and staring you down.

"You are no Jedi. You," he used his sharp metal finger to point at you with a crooked tilt of his mechanical head, "are a pretender."

"And you are a coward, hiding behind an army of droids because you know you can't win on your own accord."

Your mind was clear, as you took your saber from your hip, igniting it to show its green glow against the otherwise dark room.

Grievous laughed maniacally, and so did the creatures in the room with him. Your lightsaber was pulled from your hands, and you were unable to stop it. Why were you so weak? Why couldn't you remember your training?

"Your master has failed you."

That was the last straw, for all the things you could take, slander against your master was not one of them. You would defend his honor with your life. Selfishly, if you had to.

"And you are about to fail him."

You froze in place. Unable to move a single muscle or even blink an eye. You were held in place and made to look at the new scene in front of you. Obi-Wan was restrained against a wall, already beaten and bloody. Your heart sank, and you tried to reach for him, but you were still frozen to your spot. The creatures that surrounded you continued to assault him, left and right poking and prodding different devices that had him crying out in pain. He couldn't even hold himself up, the only thing giving him any structure being his restraints.

"Stop this!" you somehow yelled out, gaining the attention of Grievous, while his monsters continued to have their way with Obi-Wan. "If it is life you want, you will take mine before I let you take his."

Another laugh of horrific proportions sounded in your ears, his tone of voice was so irritating, and made your skin crawl.

"You have failed."

Grievous turned back to your master, barely alive as he was, and ignited your lightsaber, before running him through with it. You watched his body go completely limp in the restraints, pulling on the wall as he hung there with nothing left. His blood ran over the floors, seeping under your feet, and you cried out, screaming into the void that soon surrounded you. You were left alone soon enough, breaking free from the trance that held you in place. You sank to your knees beside Obi-Wan, using the force to break the restraints. He fell into your arms, his body broken, and lifeless. You held him close to you, hoping and praying that he wasn't dead, that this wasn't real. You wanted nothing more than for him to hold you instead, to tell you that you hadn't failed him, and that you never would. Your tears were everywhere, mixed in with the shedding of his blood on your hands.

You couldn't bear it. You screamed out his name to the cosmic force around you, not able to feel his presence the way you always had before.

All of a sudden, you could hear his voice, and it was calling you by name.

"Master?" You begged, but it was not coming from the body you held.

"Wake up, little one."

You sat up in your bed, tears streaming down your face. Your breathing was rapid, and horribly uneven, and your face was a mess of redness and heat.

Obi-Wan was sat right next to you, his hands on your arms, trying to get you to come to for the past few minutes. It was instantly very cold all around you, like a bucket of ice water had been dumped on your head. As soon as you saw his eyes, wide and full of worry over you, you were a mess. You fell into his arms, clinging to his tunic, which he'd still not taken off for the evening. You cried into his chest, leaving stains that you hoped wouldn't stay there. You couldn't explain the relief, but also the torment it put you through, to hold onto him like this.

He rubbed his hands through your hair, placing his chin above your head as to secure you fully in his embrace. He'd never seen you so upset before. Never seen you in such distress over anything you've ever done. He knew that you'd had some nightmares in the past, but didn't think they had gotten so bad that you would collapse into his arms upon waking from them.

He'd heard you calling his name earlier... no, calling was a bit of an understatement. You were practically screaming for him in the dead of night, and it scared the living kriff out of him. To hear your anguish and see you curled into yourself when he came in the room broke his heart. Now you were awake, and his only job was to make you feel safe. You didn't care if you were safe or not, because the reason for your meltdown was not in your own interest, but his. He was here, he was alive, and you were holding onto him.

"It's alright, little one," he tried to console you, but the tears were still overpowering anything else you might have had to say just yet. It had been a while since you cried, perhaps it was good for you to let it all out now.

He climbed further into the bed, knowing he'd be here for a while if he were to ever help bring you to a point of peace. He rested against the headboard, not letting go of you as you continued to sob into his shirt.

You pulled away from him at one point, just looking up into his eyes, watching as they looked back down at you in concern. He really cared about you, didn't he?

"I'm sorry I kept you up," you apologized, sniffling the best you could so you could speak through the tears.

"You have no reason to be sorry."

He wiped your tears away, using his thumb to remove any stuck strands of hair from your face that were left in the wetness.

"I just know how tired you get, and I'm sorry I made you think something was wrong," you replied, beginning to cry a little more before he shushed you gently, holding one side of your face to make you focus on him.

"Don't worry about me. I can only rest once I know you're alright, anyway."

You nodded to him, tucking your head back into his chest, allowing his arms to encircle you once more. It was nice there. He was so strong, and made you feel like nothing could ever be wrong as long as you were tucked away in his embrace. His steady heartbeat was a testament to the fact that he was alive and well, and soon your nightmare faded to the blanks of your mind... for all of five seconds.

"Could you tell me what it was about?" He asked gently, wanting to see if there were any other ways he could help to sooth your mind.

You were hesitant at first, knowing if you shared it with him, it might seem more real to you, but with another thought, you decided he might be able to decipher your horrible dreams and maybe give you some wisdom to make them go away.

"You were being held in front of me, and they were hurting you," you had to pause and swallow your emotions down for a moment. You had stopped bawling your eyes out, and wanted to prevent yourself from it happening again.

"Who's 'they?'"

You sighed, not sure if you should tell him that part or not. It was a dream, not a vision. You may have even misidentified the villain of your dream anyway.

"I don't really know, but they had you and they told me I failed you. Then it was like I couldn't move... I couldn't help you."

Obi-Wan wasn't quite sure of how to respond yet, but you weren't done, and the last part of your words hit home for him.

"They killed you in front of me," you whispered, sending chills down his spine. "I was holding you, but you were gone."

He pulled you back at arms length, looking you in the eye and making sure you heard every word he was about to say.

"You have not failed me, and you never will. I know these dreams can be frightening, but you are stronger than they are. Do you understand?"

You nodded, looking over his face and seeing the sincerity of his words in his every expression. You noticed something you hadn't noticed before, little flecks of gold towards the center of his eyes. Pretty, and calming.

"Thank you, master."

He smiled, beginning to shift next to you, though you were still partially in his arms. You furrowed your brow as you looked up at him in confusion, before he gave a simple answer.

"You should try and get some more sleep, if you can. You have a big day tomorrow," he waited for you to respond, because he knew you would.

"Could you stay a little longer? It just makes me feel better when I know you're here," you explained, but he easily understood. He's of course had dreams that weren't easy to deal with and having the person beside you can help ease your mind into forgetting the dream ever occurred. He nodded, scooting back in next to you, this time sitting up while you laid beside him, holding onto his arm for dear life as you nestled back into an actual sleeping position.

He began humming a song that you had almost forgotten about. The one you'd both made up together in your early years as a youngling. You smiled, eyes closing as you hummed along with him until you were able to sleep peacefully. He knew you were out when he heard the soft snores, but he couldn't bring himself to leave your side, in fears that you may wake up or even have another bad dream.

He wondered if the severity of your dreams may have been caused by your decision to take them from Anakin. It made sense and was the only possible explanation for the suddenness of it all. You were a fairly happy child growing up, and hadn't ever been a bother at night to the other Masters who took care of you in your youngling stages.

He would ask you about it, but knew that no matter what he said, you wouldn't stop helping Anakin. You were too compassionate for your own good sometimes, and he worried what that might do to you in future times. You could also be naive, which didn't go well with an open heart.

He let his fingers untangle your hair while you slept, hoping that it would make putting it up in the morning easier for you. You did, in fact, have a big day tomorrow. A meeting with the council to discuss your progress with Obi-Wan's training. If it went well, you would also be allowed to accompany your master and fellow padawan on missions off world to different systems. He hoped you'd not be so tired that any type of failure came upon you. That is what you were fearing. That you would fail him. He knew it wasn't possible, because you always found ways to make him proud of you, but he worried that you still felt that way.

He fell asleep deep in his thoughts, his head against your headboard, and his arm wrapped in your tight embrace.

Tags:

@spencerrxids @sawendel @fandomstanner24 @i-shall-abide @officialjellydoughnut @whatshxrname @darkened-writer @superavengerpotter @cutiepoo16 @hypnoash @softlymellow @howlerwolfmax

#obi wan x padawan #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi #obi wan series #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi x padawan!reader #obi wan x you #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker #hayden christensen #ewan mcgregor

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ohthemis · 2 years

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hi there i see your requests are open so if it's alright can i request some sort of unrequited love with vyn because reader realizes she's the exact opposite of rosa and as we know vyn is down horrendously bad for rosa so they realize they dont rlly have a chance and was friends with vyn for a long time? maybe something like they've been working together for so long and knows each other ever since university maybe?? the ending can be up to you, thank you so much!!!

— not by a long shot

character: vyn richter a/n: this is way too rushed and i really dislike it but it’ll have to do. tw mc drinks alcohol here sypnosis: when you don’t even have vyn’s attention, how likely are you to be the one who has his heart? not by a long shot, you figure.

you watch him laugh at something she says, another small groan falling out of your lips. it’s the same old routine. he’ll invite you for shopping, and you think it might just be a date. your high hopes then get dragged down to nothing when you see rosa waiting for you two. he’ll then spend the day practically drooling over her while you stay back, third wheeling.

“ah, right! mc, do you want anything?” rosa offers, as welcoming as ever. you decline her offer, after all, how could anyone keep their appetite while watching the love of their life be so utterly enamoured with anyone.

“you should eat something, mc.” you fight the urge to deck him straight in his stupid face, but you just resign to a simple shake of your head. he nods, letting his eyes linger on you before resuming his chat with rosa.

that night, you find yourself struggling to contain your thoughts. you scroll down, smiling at the photos you two had taken. you reminisce the memories, the moments long before rosa, in true little-miss-perfect fashion, sucked vyn right out of your life, the same way a magnet would do a metal.

and you’re guilty, of course. you feel guilty that you hate rosa so much for being so good. you hate her for being everything you aren’t, hate her for doing things you can’t, hate her for having things you don’t, but most of all, you hate her having vyn.

so when vyn asks you to go out again, you find it in yourself to refuse him. somewhere between the blinding lights of the party you two were attending and the bottle of alcohol you just drank, you find it in yourself to refuse him the pleasure of your pain. he doesn’t get to enjoy your grief anymore.

“are you sure you don’t want to go?”

“no thanks, i-”

“rosa will-”

“why do you still invite me?” you ask, your heartbreak masking itself as courage. a small nagging part of your soul relishes the way vyn looks so caught of guard.

“what do you mean?”

“you’re smart vyn. you know when people lie, you know when people are sick, so humor me, you really can’t tell how much i like you?”

“mc, i didn’t-”

“what is it about me, vyn, that makes you hate me so much that you want to watch me suffer? is it because of the things i say? the way i act? or is it because i’m nothing like her?”

“mc, i didn’t know.”

“god, i keep fucking myself over. i’m leaving.” you pick up your bag, you day exponentially getting worse by the second.

“no, no, no, no-, mc, you can’t just leave!” vyn rushes out, fumbling over his own words. you don’t think you’ve seen him this distraught since the time he accidentally hurt you in high school.

“why can’t i leave, vyn?”

“because you think i don’t like you, and that’s not-”

“i don’t think you don’t like me, vyn. i think you really, really hate me.”

he takes a step back, and you feel pity for the man, but it’s far from enough to stop you from walking away from where he stood. and when you heard a small whisper of your name, you pretend you never heard it. you’d never been happier to just go home and sleep.

of course, that didn’t save you from the impending hangover and the way your phone blew up. memories come rushing back at you and you might just swear never to drink again. you, however, lose all train of thought when you remember how you massively went off on vyn the night before. in lack of better judgement, you decide to just call him to get it over with.

he picks up and before you can speak, he throws out a “i’m coming over” before hanging up. at least it wasn’t just you who knew how to act shameless. you focus on getting your place half decent. you wash up, throw on a new set of clothes, and busy yourself with laundry so you don’t have to think of vyn.

while you press the last button on the washer, you hear the sound of doom. alternatively, you hear your doorbell ring. no need to guess on who that could be.

“can i come in?”

“yeah, of course, just sit.”

you don’t remember the last time the air was this thick around you two. he keeps his eyes trained on your carpet, so you decide to speak up first. “about yesterday, i’m really sorry. i wasn’t thinking-”

“you said you liked me. is that true?”

he still doesn’t meet your eyes, but you can see the way his movements falter from where you’re sitting next to him. “vyn, i was out of it-”

“were you telling the truth yesterday?”

“yeah.” you hear his breath hitch, and you keep listening for more signs that you’ve just totally ruined your friendship with vyn.

“and when you said you thought i hated you, was that...”

“oh god, no. not ever. i don’t think you hate me!” you quickly respond.

he turns to you, and in the light taint of his cheeks and the way his lip trembled a bit, you find yourself back in your high school shoes.

vyn came up to you, shy and jittery. you've never actually talked to him before, but you knew very well who he was, despite him being from a different class. “hi, vyn!”

“hi, i was interested in your project. could i see it?” he mumbles the last part, his nerves getting the better of him.

“you wanna check it out?”

“yes, if that’s alright.”

“it’s fine! you don’t have to be so formal with me!”

“i apologize, i just really admire you.”

“alright then, admirer, get prepared for the most awesome project ever..”

“mc, i really love you.”

“what?”

“i’m always bringing rosa along because i didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable around me. i was scared to mess something up with you, so i had her tag along. but i could never like anyone more than you, mc.”

“i’m sorry for yesterday, vyn. i was just so out of it. you know, alcohol and everything.”

“don’t apologize for that. tell me if i make you feel like i dislike you. if you think i could ever hate you, i’ll make it up to you.”

“yeah, i will.”

silence sits between you two.

“hey, vyn?”

“yeah?”

“you didn’t get any sleep did you?”

“it’s difficult to get a good night’s rest when you’re worried that the person you’ve liked for so long thinks you hate them,” he responds. you let out a light chuckle, pushing him to your bedroom.

“get some sleep, vyn.”

“stay with me, please.”

“i will, admirer.”

#vyn richter #tears of themis vyn #vyn x reader #Mo Yi #mo yi x reader #Tears of Themis #tears of themis x reader #tot x reader #tot #tw alcohol

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saikos-pleb · 3 years

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hi!! i love your writing let me just say. i was wondering if i could request aiura, saiki, and aren with an s/o who is really into musical theater, and maybe seeing them perform for the first time? hopefully its not too much, xx

them with a theater kid s/o

mikoto , saiki, kuboyasu

gender neutral

[note]: hi! thank you for requesting (: idk much about theater but i will try my best :D. i came up with an extremely stupid musical because idfk any other then hairspray 😭🤚

—————-

mikoto

- the first time you met actually was when you were leaving your theater class :D

- and since then she has been supporting you 100%

- every year at pk the theater class does a huge original musical and this year it was a musical called “soap” that was written by a few 4th years

- you wouldn’t let her come to your practice because you wanted it to be a surprise

- she was rlly annoyed but she listened anyways

- this would be the first time she sees you perform so you were extremely nervous

- not to mention you got the lead roll so you were extra nervous

- as she expected you were great

- she actually started crying because of how good you did

- she takes you out to dinner afterwards

saiki

- you guys had been dating for a few months when one day he heard you (in your head) talk about how you wanted to join theater

- he has never been in interest and he has never heard u think of anything about it

- that same day you had joined theater

- a few months go by and the yearly musical comes around which you audition for

- you end up getting the lead characters love interest

- but the lead characters love interest is *the opposite of your gender, and if you non-binary just pick something 💀*

- when you told kusuo he laughed for a good 5 minutes

- but regardless he was proud of you

- performance day comes up and he was one of the first people to get there (mostly because his parents came too and they wanted to see you)

- if you messed up at all he makes everyone think that. you didn’t

- afterwards you go back to his house where his parents have so many presents for you (“:

kuboyasu

- you were a theater kid before you guys even met

- when the musical comes up you audition

- you get the lead characters… dad (regardless of your gender)

- even though you were aiming for main character you were still excited

- and if you’re excited aren is at least 500x more excited

- he helps you practice your lines

- “we’ll since you’re the dad, let me pretend to be the mom and we can.. make a baby”

- you hit him on the head

- anyone would hit him for that

- poor aren, he keeps getting hit in all of my headcannons 😭

- when performance day comes he helps set up the stuff

- he watches you and he says the lines under his breath since he pretty much memorized them

- afterwards he takes you on a motorcycle ride to a drive in theater and you guys watch a movie ((:

#anime #saiki k #saiki x reader #the disaster of psi kusuo saiki #the disasterous life of saiki k #headcannon #saiki #shun kaido #aren kuboyasu #aren kuboyasu x reader #mikoto x reader #airua mikoto

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sinnergetreadymp3 · 3 years

Text

CHAMERON FIC CHAMERON FIC CHAMERON FIC

Uhhhhh I feel like I should give this a title but I have no idea what to call so uh, nevermind !!

Anyways,I finally finished the fic I said I was writing like,a month ago lol. All my Chameron stans out there this one's for u,I rlly hope at least one person enjoys this,I rlly enjoyed writing it !! Ok sappy stuff outta the way,here it is:

As rain pounded against the window Charlie sent what was probably the thousandth crumpled ball of paper across the room.

"Jesus Charlie,is your arm not getting tired?"

Charlie smirked at that, clearly preparing to make a dirty minded joke,but a thoroughly exhausted Richard Cameron was already one step ahead.

"You know what,forget I asked, you're gross."

Getting up from the seat at his desk and ignoring an indignant retort from Charlie, Cameron thought of the rest of his friends,out for the weekend. Todd and Neil celebrating their one year anniversary, Meeks and Pitts embarking on a two day road trip,for what they still claimed to be, entirely platonic reasons (although the rest of the poets were all too aware of the almost palpable romantic tension between them). Even Knox had found something to do with himself on this miserable Friday night.

And here Cameron was,stuck in his dorm with nothing but stacks of extra homework and his obnoxious roommate to keep him company.

Speaking of that obnoxious roommate, "Oh come on Cam,you're not seriously going to bed already,it's barely eight!"

"Shut up Dalton,I'm tired."

Refusing to admit defeat, Charlie sprung from his own bed into Cameron's, attempting to wrestle the poor boy from his comfortable position.

"Charlie,get off you psycho!" Cameron managed to get out, already laughter threatening to give away just how welcome his friend's childish antics were.

After a few more minutes of "fooling around" as Charlie insisted on calling it (mostly because of how profusely it made Cameron blush),the two boys lay breathless beside each other,trying desperately to think of something else to do that would ward off impending boredom.

After a few moments of comfortable silence,Charlie suggested,looking expectantly towards the ginger, "Wanna go to the cave?"

With extreme,mind numbing boredom as motivation, it was inevitable that Cameron would say yes. It certainly helped that Charlie was gazing at him with those oh-so convincing doe eyes of his. Charlie Dalton and his stupid,gorgeous eyes. And his stupid,gorgeous smile,which Cameron was abso definitely not thinking about as he got up and grabbed his coat.

The two boys trudged through the woods,bickering lightly when Cameron complained of the cold that Charlie apparently couldnt feel at all,but always with an unusually friendly air between them. Before long they were sat together in the middle of the cave,sharing an apple that Cameron had managed to salvage from somewhere (a feat Dalton was of course impressed by),and trading stories of girls and parties galore. In Cameron's case, the stories of girls were few and the parties were from years long before even middle school,so Charlie did most of the talking.

After a while though,the boys came to discussing their friends,and the luck they all seemed to have in finding each other so easily. Charlie, ever the romantic,made no waste of his extensive vocabulary,tediously lamenting on all the opportunities of love he had missed and the everlasting loneliness he was doomed to,all because his dashing knight in shining armour would never come to find him and-

"Why dont *you* just find somebody?"

Charlie,still sprawled dramatically over a rock ,and mildly offended at the interruption,indignantly questioned "What do you mean?"

"What I said? You dont just have to wait around for somebody to come find you and fall madly in love. Why don't *you* just find somebody?"

He thought for a moment,taken aback by the ginger's harsh words,but eventually decided to humout him for a moment.

"And where exactly do you suggest I find him then, hm?"

Cameron shifted in his seat,not expecting to be taken seriously and certainly not prepared to be giving advice. Especially not *this* kind of advice. Especially not to *charlie*.

"Well,uh," he looked up to see the other boy looking at him expectantly,with that ever-present smirk on his face that, oddly enough,made Cameron feel a little more comfortable.

"Maybe,you could,I don't know, consider that the guy you're looking for has been here the whole time?"

"Wow Cam,Pittsie and Meeks' radio must've really gotten to you. All those love songs have turned you into a big softie." Charlie joked,grinning and nudging Cameron playfully.

Through a soft laugh,Cameron continued, "No I'm serious man,I think you're making this whole love thing way harder for yourself. I mean- and be honest with me, what's actually wrong with the guys at our school?"

"Other than the fact that about three quarters of them are raging heterosexuals?"

Laughing again,Cameron replied "yeah,other than that."

After about zero seconds of careful consideration,he had come to a conclusion, "Well,I guess nothing,but I dont know? Cameron, I don't see how this changes-"

"It *changes* things because clearly you don't anything about half the guys at our school. And you can't write off people you don't even know." At some point, Cameron had gotten up and started pacing around,but with the end of this triumphant speech,he finally sat down,a little closer to the other boy than he had been before.

Charlie looked across at Cameron and was suddenly met with a wave of fondness. Weird,how all it took was to sit and talk for a while before someone you thought you near hated,started to feel like your favorite person in the world. And,was he going completely crazy or Cameron at his most comfortable, without the fear of a teacher lurking nearby,without the stress of constantly trying to prove himself,was he... A little..... attractive??

All at once,Charlie made a decision,partly to try and prove himself wrong,but also because hey,if Richard Cameron was the surprise love of his life,what better time to figure it out than right now?

"So how,sir Richard Cameron,do you propose I get to know all these charming suitors?"

Cameron, completely in the dark about Dalton's recent epiphany,was still stubbornly trying to explain how much easier Charlie's love life could be,if only he would let it.

"Well,maybe by actually talking to them? Y'know,kind of like,What we're doing right now."

"So,what you're saying is,*you* could be my knight in shining armor," he said with a smirk.

"Well,that's not what-"

"No,no it's fine,as long as we're talking about this version of you. Regular Cameron is kind of a buzzkill but Cave Cam is actually a kind of.... And I can't believe I'm saying this but,in here,like this...well. You're actually a little hot."

After this, overwhelmingly romantic confession, Charlie was certain he had completely stuffed it,and sure enough,

"Gee Charlie,thanks. Really makes me wanna ride into the sunset with you." To say Cam's ego had been hit was an understatement,but before he could make a swift exit from the cave and lock himself,alone,in his dorm for the rest of the weekend,of course Dalton kept talking.

"God,I'm sorry,that was, I have no idea why I said that. I thought I was being funny but out loud- god I'm so sorry," while he had initially been mad,seeing Charlie fucking Dalton blush (and because of *him* no less) was rather funny. And sure,a little cute. So Cameron decided to hear him out.

"Can I start over? You're not saying anything so I'm gonna start over. I,uh, I really do think you're hot. Like really hot. And not just right now,all the time,like that time we were at rowing practice and I started pushing you around and we ended up on the floor and I saw like,a single sliver of skin because your sweater had ridden up,and I couldn't stop thinking about it all day,which I thought was a little weird but then-"

"Uh,I think I get it,Charlie." Now Cameron was the one blushing.

"Uh,sorry. What I meant was,that I *do* think you're hot l-"

"As you've said"

"Yeah,yeah,but it's more than that. Like,when I realized we'd basically be spending the whole weekend alone together,I was actually sorta excited for that,even though I knew I'd just be sitting by you while you did homework the whole time,I like,wanted to do that. And tonight,I haven't talked like this with anyone who isn't Neil like,ever. What I mean is,I guess,is that,I think that uh,"

Deciding to lighten the mood,Cameron tried for a little sarcasm, "Wow,Dalton, stuttering? I must be superman or something."

"I'm trying to be romantic here Carrot top," Charlie said with a grin,

"Listen,I don't really know what I'm doing here,but I think it might be kinda nice if we tried having a little romantic weekend of our own. Just to try it. If it totally sucks we can pretend it never happened and the others don't have to know about it and-"

"Charlie."

"Yeah?"

"Relax," Cameron said with yet another laugh ,he didn't think he laughed like this since... Well,he couldn't even remember.

So with a radiant smile on his face,he said,"A romantic weekend of our own sounds amazing. Gotta warn you tho I'm not a great kisser."

"Well, lucky for you I am a great teacher," Charlie replied,with a somehow even bigger smile on his face than Cameron's,

"Why are you laughing,I *am* a great teacher!" Unfortunately for Charlie,his indignance only made Cameron laugh harder.

"I'll believe that when I see it."

"If you shut up and stop laughing,maybe you'll get to." After this was all it took to get the ginger to sober up, the look on his face pushed Charlie to make his final,but (in his opinion) most important decision of the night.It was high time he flirt with Cameron way more often (which was *very* difficult to explain to the other poets,at least the first time).

#yh i did proofread it #yh there probably r still mistakes #i was very nervous so #but yh uh #chameron #dps fic #dps chameron fic #dead poets society chameron #idk how to tag things properly if u couldnt tell from my other posts lol #anyway !! bye

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perhapsthanatos · 3 years

Text

10:32 pm with yuta ♡

nct’s yuta x fem!reader (got inspired by a dream of mine & found the idea really cute)

alternate title: be the james dean to my audrey hepburn

genre: fluff. a pinch of angst. non idol au. badboy!yuta au.

word count: 1400~

playlist: chinatown by wild nothing, lover’s rock by tv girl & work this time by king gizzard and the lizard wizard.

warnings: featuring johnny (not a warning though). smoking cigarettes. cursing. lowercase intended. not proofread.

a/n: hi i was supposed to post a vampire!haechan fic but i really wasnt happy w it in general :( the plot or overall idea of the fic was really good, but i just felt as if i didnt do it justice so here we are :( but ngl, i kind of like this concept more? maybe bc i can see it more vividly? idk, i feel like my writings r getting repetitive & its getting on my nerves lmaoo this is getting long im sorry do u guys even read this part anyway? i would also like to apologize abt the amount of projecting im doing lmao ive been having some rough days & i love my sister but hate being compared to her so often so this is a way for me to rant abt it ig? also so sorry its coming out a little later bc i woke up late today (& procrastinated for the rest of it so here i am posting really late at night) & decided to go to the convenience store to get ice cream (& a ton of other bad shit pls dont do this its rlly unhealthy) for breakfast bc i can :) any who, enjoy lovelies <3

“oh my, y/n! you’ve grown up so well! just like your sister!”

“oh! i’m sorry i’ve almost mistaken you for your sister! y/n is your name, correct?”

“y/n, darling, you are looking so dashing! you really do resemble your sister, don’t you?”

“ah, you must be y/n! i’ve heard all about you and your sister from your father!”

you swear that your reddening cheeks are threatening to fall off any moment now from all the fake smiling. the hundreds of superficial compliments, the insincere flattery and the need for these people to constantly compare you to your godforsaken sister makes you feel even weaker than you are. it gets harder and harder to keep up with a big persona that isn’t at all you. as lucky as you are to live such a lavish lifestyle, you can’t help but hate how your family has to be so perfect. you hate how you have never fit in with them, even if you are so good at faking it. you hate how you have always been stuck in your sister’s shadow, constantly haunted with the reminder that you yourself aren’t good enough. you hate how you now have to entertain the rich and brainless guests at your parent’s gala because she’s gone for some stupid prodigy competition and everyone is only talking about her in front of your face. so what if she’s better the better sister? you still have the right to earn respect, right?

you’re exhausted from all the small talk. your facade gets more brittle by the second under all the pressure. your body feels as if it's gonna give out due to your brain shutting down after all that interacting. you try to keep on going with the night as it unravels itself by being the perfectly poised poster child, trying to make your parents proud. but alive yet almost completely devoid, you decide enough was enough. what if you left right now? no one would notice, would they?

after pulling up your phone discreetly to send a few text messages, you pass through lots of people dressed in gold and finery in a way that wouldn’t have you noticed right away. keep your head down and don’t you dare make eye contact with anyone. nearing the end of the room, grabbing the first glass of whatever alcohol you see and downing it in one gulp, you start walking away as quickly as possible from the ballroom. “ignorant privileged fucks,” you angrily whisper to no one in particular, setting the now empty glass on whatever surface and begin to head to the main exit where no one could spot you running away.

“and what do you think you’re doing here, miss?”

a voice interrupts you, looking up you see that it is your father’s head butler; johnny. he is dressed in a simple black suit that makes him appear taller than he is. his long brown hair is slicked back and his bowtie seems brand new. you have known the man since he started working in your household less than ten years back. you were a reckless child, often trying to find ways to sneak out, finding a way to escape from this life and he sympathized with you. after all, he could barely imagine living your life, never catching a break for yourself and always pretending to be someone you weren’t. he often helped planning when you would sneak out into the night, scheduling things like what time you should leave and what time you should be back, more specifically a time when no one would notice. he would take care of your form of transportation and have your location on at all times, just to be extra safe. as much as he wants you to have fun and have a bit of freedom, he still worries that something might happen to you. because of all this, you two have grown to have a very strong bond. you could confidently say that he is most definitely a parental figure in your life since your parents (and even your sister) are often overseas for work.

“what do you think i’m doing? you think i wanna be in a room with those half-baked bipeds? fuck no!”

“i know, i was just joking. you looked like you were about to explode in there, i wish i could help.” he laughs, pulling out his phone preparing what you might need. “so what will it be for today? the driver? we just need to pay him to keep his mouth shut. a taxi? it’s cheaper than paying the driver, but you still need to pay… not like that’s a problem for you though. maybe an uber would be good enough—“

“actually, i got myself covered. thanks.”

his jaw slightly drops and his eyebrows furrow. he looks straight at you in shock. “what do you mean you got yourself covered?”

you look down at your feet, a nervous habit. “i got myself a ride, you don’t need to help me. i’ll be back as soon as dawn comes.”

he raises his eyebrow. “who’s your ride?”

“doesn’t matter,” you glance down at your phone seeing a notification and wave a goodbye, leaving rather suddenly. “i gotta go, i’ll text you when you need to open the gates!”

“y/n! wait! who’s your ride— and she’s gone.” johnny sighs, watching as you run towards the front gates, tossing your stiletto heels away on the grass while you’re at it. he heads back inside, silently hoping you’ll be fine.

knocking the window of the old black mustang parked outside behind the big bushes, the driver rolls down his window and sends the most charming smile.

yuta in his black beanie, long blonde hair, worn out doc martens, signature leather jacket and black skinny jeans. it almost makes you laugh on how he wears the same thing almost everyday but still manages to look so good.

he is most notable for having a big bad boy reputation and you knew that he was the breath of fresh air you needed in your life. a person who can understand having the pressure of having to be or to fulfill your persona. a person you can completely be yourself around. a person who is full of warmth no matter how cold he may seem on the outside.

“get in, princess.”

and that was all you needed. you tiredly walked to the other door and sat yourself in the car. rolling his window back up, he looks at you. you are wearing a simple yet stunning black dress along with silver jewelry adorned on your neck and wrists. your makeup is perfectly done but still struggles to hide the fog in your eyes. he has the sudden urge to clear them away. he softens at the sight of you. no one is perfect, but he finds you being perfect enough without ever having to dress up.

“where to?” he asks as gently as he could. he knows that you are most vulnerable during these moments and that it is hard to finally break down your walls after a day full of stress, so he doesn’t pry immediately. all he wants to do is to keep you here, safe and away from your burdens and for you to stay comfortable with him, even if it couldn't be for long. but is that too selfish of him to ask? he hates how you hate your life and it is taking every bone in his body to not run away with you. but who is he to tell you what to do or what to change anyway? all he can do for now is try to find a way to make you genuinely smile.

“take me anywhere,” you whisper to the latter. “i just want to be as far from myself and my life as possible. miles away or the nearest convenience store, just take the long way home before dawn.”

you look down at the cup holders, spotting an open cigarette box. you tug one out of the nineteen and light it with the lighter you kept in your pocket. you lean back and close your eyes. he only admires as you bring the cigarette to your lips, exhaling a cloud of smoke afterwards. letting the radio play quietly, he starts the car and begins to drive away from the mansion. he can’t help but wonder how you (an elegant daughter) and him (a bad boy) are millions of worlds apart, but more similar than you think.

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fweasleyswhore · 4 years

Text

F.W. Who We Are

Chapter Two: Your Least Favorite Color

Chapter One

a/n chapter two my lovlies!! i rlly wanted to pump this out p fast bc ive been having so much fun with it and i hope you are too!

summary: fred and george tell you their plan for their prank. fluff with a pinch of angst.

word count: 3k

warnings: some touching??? uncomfy situation??

tags: @you-make-children-cry @levylovegood @bohemianspacebabe

comment a request to be added to my taglist !

“Snape’s least favorite color?” I laughed out. “I think you mean, like, any color. I mean has he ever worn anything that isn’t black?”

I was now seated in a small semblance of a circle on the floor of the Gryffindor common room, Fred and George in front of me. It was most definitely past curfew but because tomorrow was Saturday I really didn’t care, the time was the last thing on my mind. The most present thought I had was how the hell Fred and George were going to change the color of all the cauldrons in Snape's room and get away with it.

“Well, now that you bring it up, I do believe I saw him in robes that looked rather navy instead of black.” George pondered, looking up to the ceiling and tapping his chin as if he was deep in thought.

“Oh bug off!” I laughed and smacked him on the arm. He looked at his arm with wide eyes, his smile gone. Before I could ask if I was too forceful he was pretending to cry, a little too loud than he should’ve considering it was well past 12 and I am technically trespassing. None of us cared though or even thought to care as we watched George grasp onto his brother’s arms like it was the last thing he would ever do.

“I-I don’t want to die Freddie.” He whispered. His grip tightened onto his brother as he spoke again. “Freddie, I…” He then let out a loud, fake sob. “There’s so much I haven’t done.” He dropped his head and shook it. I rolled my eyes, how long was he going to keep this up?

Fred brought his hands up to cradle his brother’s head. “It’s ok George, you can let go, it’s ok.” He looked into his brother’s eyes tearfully, “I’ll help you…”

Before George could react Fred lifted one of his hands and swiftly flicked him on the forehead. George let out a loud groan and spasmed a bit in Fred’s arms, I watched with narrowed eyes as he seized up and shook.

“You look more like a fish out of water than a dying man,” I said smugly. George rose up and fixed his hair. He looked over to me with a glare and his tongue out. I laughed fully, the situation and everything, as well as some sleep deprivation, catching up on me. I threw my head back, clutched my stomach, and rolled around for what felt like hours. Once I had started I couldn’t stop.

“I didn’t think it was that funny,” George whispered to Fred. “Maybe we have finally broken her?”

“Maybe…” Was all Fred was able to say back, too caught up with the beautiful girl in front of her to even fully process George's words.

Finally calming down due to the sharp pain building up in my stomach from laughing so hard, I painfully pushed myself to sit up straight. Leaning on the couch behind me I tried to catch my breath while gripping my stomach. I could feel my face was flushed, my hair was a mess but I couldn’t care. Although the pain that coursed through my body, I was still smiling, looking at the two boys in front of me. Focusing on George I saw that he looked at me with a look of disbelief and amusement, rolling my eyes at him I focussed on Fred ready to be met with the same expression.

What I was met with nearly made me roll over again.

The way he looked at me made the rest of the world evaporate. I lost my breath. He smiled at me, but it wasn’t amused or disbelieving like George, he smiled at me with pure content, like watching me writhing around on the floor was the best use of his time. His eyes flickered with something, his usual gleam of mischief no longer evident but what was currently being held I couldn’t decipher. My whole face flushed even more if that was possible, I was praying in my head he didn’t notice it. I diverted my eyes from his gaze, trying to hide my red face as I adjusted into the position I held before I broke out in laughter.

“Maybe red?” I tried to steer the conversation back to its previous topic, my voice quivered, making me cringe and I hope that the boys didn’t notice or just wrote it off.

“If we make them red he will know a Gryffindor did it, that’s the equivalent of a murderer leaving a ransom note with his name on it.” George retorted. I sighed, relieved he didn’t say anything. Bringing my gaze up to meet theirs I looked between them, they were both staring at the floor, obviously lost in thought. I brought my gaze to the fire behind them. I pulled my lip in between my teeth trying to focus on a specific color that would make the blood drain from Snape’s face.

Snape was the head of the Slytherin house, and though that relation, I absolutely despised him. He was terribly rude to Gryffindors for no bloody reason, being that my friends mostly consisted of Gryffindors, he was terribly rude to me as well. He never took points away from me specifically, knowing it would reflect badly on him, but he took the absolute piss out of any Gryffindor around, often even subjected me to long detentions for minor offenses. I have to watch my step around him, even my breathing could set him off, send a nasty glare, or even grade my way. Being a Slytherin though, there was not much I could do about it except accept it, and that made my blood boil under the surface.

“Perhaps,” I started, my gaze was still trained on the dancing fire behind the boy. “Hot pink would suffice?”

Lifting my gaze from the fire I glanced between the two.

“Wicked.” They said in unison. They had these stupid grins on their faces that made me giggle.

The rest of the night was spent actually completing the plan, or trying to and getting distracted. The day before we leave for Christmas break we would sneak into his room, Fred and George would hide in the back of the room while I waited for Snape to arrive. I would ask him to help me find a book in the library about potion making because “I had really been struggling this past year in his class”. Total lie, I knew what I was doing Snape just hated to give me the grade I deserved.

Considering Mrs. Pince was on maternity leave he would have no option but to say yes. The boys would hex the cauldrons then run back to the Gryffindor common room where Harry and Ron were ready to provide an alibi. It flowed well, the potions section of the library was in the back and far up, Ron and Harry were more than happy to take the piss out of Snape, and Snape knew that because I was in his house I would never do anything directly against him for fear of being expelled.

Although I knew there would be no evidence for Snape to use against me I was still quite nervous but the thought of the shit eating grins it would provide the twins gave me enough courage to agree. They always made me happy, it was only fair I do the same for them.

Once it was mildly solidified in our brains we let the conversation drift, topics from quidditch to the worst animal to transfigure as filled up what should’ve been a quite common room at that hour, and never once did I feel bored.

The feeling of someone shaking my shoulders brought me back to reality. I opened my eyes to a rather bright and blurry mess of red around me, quickly shutting them again I groaned, swatting at my attacker. My lazy attempts fell short never actually hitting anyone.

“That was lame.” Hermione laughed.

I opened one eye to glare at her. “Considering I was blind I think they were ferocious.” I shot back.

She laughed again. “Well I don’t know how late you stayed up, but it’s quarter to 9. Breakfast ends at 10.”

“I have so much time, why must you hurt me ‘Mione?” I huffed running a hand down my face.

“Because Saturday is blueberry pancake day!” She said half singing. “Also I figured you would want to shower and get ready before we go to Hogsmede.” I groaned again but I knew she was right. I threw my hands over my face and rubbed my eyes before opening them, this time the brightness nor the redness of the room affected me.

“What would I do without you?” I asked sitting up. Now in a seated position I could see my surroundings. I was laying longways on the couch, a robe sprawled over me like a makeshift blanket. Hermione stood behind me, her hands rested on the armrest that my head was just against.

“Probably dead, due to these two.” I couldn’t see her but I knew she was talking about the twins. I turned my head around and smiled at her.

Squinting around the common room I could see George curled up in a loveseat by the fireplace, he sat sideways, his head against the back of the chair while his arms hugged one of his legs tightly to his chest, his other leg was thrown over the armrest. I giggled at the sight of him in such an unnatural position, it could not be comfortable with his long limbs. I searched the room for Fred. He wasn't in the other seats by the fireplace or the other couch pushed against the wall.

My heart plunged into my stomach at the thought that he went up to his dorm, I wasn’t completely sure why it hurt me so much. It made sense for him to have left, but part of me just felt pained at the fact that George stayed and not him. Of course I liked George but not in the way I liked Fred. George was like a brother to me, he was a best friend. Fred was something more than that, not that he knew, I would never admit it to him much less our friends, but that didn’t stop the longing I felt for him, hoping that he felt the same way too.

Finally I found him and all the doubts I had before were void upon seeing him. He laid on his stomach on the floor next to the couch. One arm under the pillow supporting his head that was facing me and the other thrown across the floor. He didn’t have a blanket on him and his robe wasn’t in sight. His hair was slightly brushed in his face and I had to refrain from leaning down and brushing it out of his eyes. I let out a small laugh realizing he was using the pillow that I threw at George the night before.

Turning around again to Hermione I spoke again. “You’re completely right.” She rolled her eyes with a smile before exiting the common room muttering something about the work she needed to do that day.

I stretched and readjusted, pulling my legs to my chest while figuring the best way to get up without disturbing Fred. I balled up the robe that was laid across me, still trying to figure out how to navigate my way out of the common room.

There was a small space near his arm on the floor, taking it as my best shot to then jump around him. I carefully placed my foot down, making sure not to step on him. Shifting my weight onto that foot I began to move my other leg to go around his back.

Slowly crouching to get some momentum I jumped, but before my foot could even leave the ground a strong arm grabbed my ankle. Taken by surprise I let out a small shriek before falling onto the couch and then sliding onto the floor.

I was met with Fred, smirking at me with half lidded eyes.

“Trying to sneak off with my robe are you?” He said smugly. His voice was deeper and raspier than it usually was and had an immediate effect on my body, my legs weakened and my face burned. I was thanking Merlin I was already sitting and flushed from the fall.

“What are you on about Weasley.” I whisper-yell at him.

He released my ankle, something I hadn’t even noticed he was still holding until I felt uncharacteristically cold where his touch had been only moments ago. He used his now free hand to point at the balled up robes in my arms.

“You did not just make me fall on my arse only to accuse me of stealing my robes!” I whisper yelled again, although a tad louder than last time.

He cocked an eyebrow at me. “Your robes? I wasn’t aware we had joint custody over my clothing Y/L/N, but since you want them so bad I suppose you can keep them, red looks good on you by the way.” He shot me a wink at the end of his remark. His confidence and cockiness just upset me further. Although he was unnervingly annoying I couldn’t help the grin that split onto my face at his own stupidity.

I rolled my eyes and unbunched the robes to show him the green that adorned them, but once they were unrolled I saw the red fabric. My eyes shot wide open, I could feel my eyebrows scrunch together in confusion.

“But…” I couldn’t even form a whole sentence, this didn’t make sense. “You hexxed my robes!” I shot at him. It was the only logical conclusion I had come up to that he had planned this.

The laugh he was holding back erupted from his mouth. His morning voice made it much deeper than his actual laugh. The rings of his laughter normally made my body hot but this was a whole new level.

He didn’t say anything, just brought his hand up to my collar and tugged. Looking down I saw that I was still wearing my robes. Never took them off.

I groaned and threw my face into my hands which only made him laugh harder. He peeled my hands away from my face and held them in his much larger ones. “I would never hex your clothes,” I could feel my face heat up at his words, the genuine tone and the lower octave of his voice sent shockwaves through my whole system. “At least not red, I’d make them purple!” He stuck his tongue out at me and I playfully swatted his shoulder. He knew that was my least favorite color.

I stood up and threw his robes at his face. “See you in the Great Hall.” And with that I grabbed my shoes and walked out as quickly as possible. I could hear him still laughing as I got to the portrait hole but kept going trying to calm down and get the flush off my face, both from our proximity and embarrassment.

I had thrown on my favorite muggle outfit. Going to Hogsmede was a tradition but the excitement was still there which qualified for a little dressing up. It wasn’t anything special, just plain light wash jeans, a white turtleneck and an oversized orange button up I managed to steal from the twins. All pulled together with a little accessorizing I thought I looked rather good.

Walking out of my dorm and into the Slytherin common room there was an evident pep in my step. I was happy but a fool wouldn’t be. Stepping towards the exit of the common room someone just had to ruin my fun.

“Not going out with the Weasels again are you Y/L/N?” Draco drawls. Turning I see him snickering with Crabbe and Goyle before standing and waltzing up to me, arrogant as ever.

“What is it to you Malfoy?” I spit at him. I was not going to let him ruin today.

“Well you got so pretty today, Weasleys do not know how to appreciate such expensive things, they can’t afford them, how would they know how to? You deserve someone who knows how and can express their appreciation in equally expensive ways.” He laughed out. He lifted his hand to caress my cheek. His touch made me cringe, his hands were cold and his demeanor was uninviting. Everything about him made me recoil.

I grabbed his wrist and threw his hand down. “I hope you don’t mean someone like yourself Malfoy. I’m not sure how you even know how to use a hand like that, it looks as though it hasn’t done a day of work in its life. Is that something you are really proud of?” I threw my words at him like daggers. Steam rolling off of me. I could see him change under my glare, his confidence shrank and his anger grew, his relaxed expression was soon replaced by his snarl he adorned everywhere Harry was near, his back stiffened and his fists balled up.

“Never, touch me again Malfoy.” I turned on my heel and stormed out. Before reaching the exit I thought of something though.

“Future advice,” I turned again so I was facing him. He hadn’t moved and still looked at me venomously as before. He lifted an eyebrow at my comment, urging me to go on. “Money can’t buy consent.”

His face darkened and I had to turn quickly to stop myself from all out laughing at him. I’m sure that if I stayed I could have watched him have his temper tantrum but frankly I wasn’t interested. My interest laid with the redhead waiting for me at the doors of the Great Hall. The same one who smiled at me as I walked up to him and poured my juice for me when we sat down. Fred Weasley had me totally, inconceivably, and utterly smitten, and I was completely ok with it. The harder I fell the sweeter it would feel when he caught me.

Or I hoped.

#fred and george #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #harry potter #weasleys wizard wheezes #george weasley fluff #fred weasley fanfiction #the weasly twins #fred weasley fluff #fred wealsey fic #harry potter characters #harry potter fanfiction

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kafka-ish · 4 years

Text

the act of being a boy-friend | r.t.

y/n’s plan to make her crush, or ex crush, jealous backfires when she realizes she’s been the jealous one all along.

word count: 6.7k

warnings/included: fluff, losers aren’t friends anymore, fem!reader

a/n: i just rlly love writing love triangles hgeoigso also fake dating tropes ftw🥳

“What’s ruh-ruh-wrong? Juh-juh-hust tell me what I can do, and I’ll ff-fix it.” Bill sat next to y/n on his worn sofa. The two were watching a movie but he couldn’t put a pin on what was wrong until he noticed y/n wasn’t making her usual commentary. y/n always talked whenever they got together to watch a movie—either letting her petty remarks be known to the rest of the viewers or judging the style choice. And if she wasn’t talking, her face was stuffed full of popcorn or sour candy.

But y/n wasn’t doing either of those things.

She sat in a ball—her bare feet on his couch and her kneecaps digging into her stomach. Her eyes were wide and focused on the screen ahead of them that blared ET. Her nails that were in tip-top condition when she first showed up to Bill’s house, neatly trimmed and polished with a layer of topcoat were now bitten to the bed, ragged and raw.

“Why would you think something’s wrong?” y/n said, surprised that she was able to even squeak out the words after zoning out for so long. Something was wrong. But it wasn’t like y/n would tell him. This is what she wanted, right? Just the two of them—Bill’s arm wrapped around her while she pressed into his side while the only light in the room came from his television set.

So why did everything feel so wrong?

Richie and y/n had dated two months prior. Well… ‘dated’. The relationship wasn’t real, but the butterflies whenever Richie called her a dumb pet name or kissed her on the cheek (because kissing on the lips was too far) certainly felt real. And the heartbreak that came from him talking about other girls felt more real than the time y/n got stood up at the eighth-grade dance.

“I don’t wanna be your fuckin’ boyfriend,” Richie protested. His mouth was full of the turkey club sandwich he snagged from a detention buddy and his perfectly straight nose was now scrunched in disgust at the absurd idea his friend had to offer.

“I don’t get why you’re being so pissy about this.” y/n took the sandwich from him, taking a bite of her own and cringing at the taste of mustard that was hidden under the lettuce.

“Grow up.” Richie laughed at y/n who was using a napkin to wipe the tangy aftertaste off her tongue. “You know.” He took another bite. “This sorta shit never ends well.”

“What shit?” y/n prodded. She was still hooked on the idea of getting Richie to play house with her.

“The game where you and I pretend to be boyfriend and girlfriend and eventually one of us falls for each other.” Richie was taking an oddly rational approach to y/n’s suggestion. But Richie was logical in a sense where he just knew.

“Who says I’d fall for you?” y/n poked at his shoulder. One of her eyebrows raised because in what world would she let herself catch feelings for Richie Tozier?

In this world. In this lifetime, y/n would let herself fall for one of her best friends, only to be dating her longtime crush.

“How could you not?” Richie smirked but y/n could tell he was just joking. “I’m irresistible, love.” His stupid British-man Voice made yet another appearance and y/n had to refrain from hitting him.

“What about me?” y/n didn’t care whether or not Richie found her attractive, but to say his response never left her mind after that day would be an understatement.

“Well, just look at you.” Richie put the sandwich down. “If it’s anyone, I’ll be having a harder time.”

“So does that mean you’ll go through with it?” A new light hit y/n’s eyes; the sparkle almost blinding Richie who was shaking his head.

“I don’t get why you’re so hung up about this.” He sighed. y/n could tell he was getting annoyed, but y/n was also persistent. If she wanted something, she’d get it; careless about the lengths she’d have to go through for her fantasies to become a truth. Her truth.

“I’m just saying there are benefits for both of us.” y/n’s head tilted to the side, trying to get a better glimpse at Richie now gnawing at his lunch like an animal.

“Benefits?” Richie asked mid-bite.

“Yeah. I can make Bill Denbrough jealous and he’ll fall madly in love with me. Same for you and your ex.”

“Bill Denbrough?” Richie ignored the mention of his ex-girlfriend. He was fifty-percent sure he was already over her, but the other fifty percent of him still stole glances in her direction and kept a copy of her school picture in his wallet. But Bill Denbrough? y/n had a crush on the Bill Denbrough? Richie had to take a moment for his ears to adjust to this staggering news.

Bill Denbrough was a baseball player and Richie’s old childhood friend. Him, Bill, Stan Uris (who was coincidentally also on Derry’s baseball team), Mike Hanlon (who didn’t play baseball but football), Ben Hanscom (he was on the track team), Eddie Kaspbrak, and Beverly Marsh were all a group back in middle school. And Bill and Richie went way back—back to elementary school. It was until the end of freshman year when Stan tried out for baseball (Bill tagged along but made the team anyway) and Mike brought up how he wanted to go out for football next year.

Everyone’s interests started to diverge. Everyone started to diverge. They still went to Mike’s games at the beginning of their sophomore year, but their lunches together only seemed to happen on Wednesday and their afternoon hangouts at the quarry turned into just Richie smoking puffs on the edge; the only company being his portable radio.

Richie befriended y/n sophomore year, around the same time he and his friends fizzed out in January’s crisp air. He met her in his new art class when Derry High released students’ new schedules for the second semester. They’d stayed friends ever since; sharing their lunches and staying after school to finish up on a Social Studies project that wasn’t worth the grade they received. y/n was the one to comfort Richie after his breakup with Vanessa Jennings, but this was the first Richie had ever heard of y/n’s crush on Bill. He didn’t even know she knew Bill.

“You like Bill Denbrough?”

y/n nodded. “So, what do you say? Partner…”

Richie gave in. Although it wasn’t in his interest to get back with Vanessa, he’d still go along with y/n’s scheme.

He’d pick her up at her house before school at seven o’clock sharp—whether it was in his dad’s old Chevy or by foot in his red Converse.

y/n rushed to her front door as soon as she heard a ring. Her hair was half done, and she hadn’t had enough time to do her makeup yet. Luckily, she was already dressed in her school clothes—the denim of her jeans scuffing together when she walked, and her red blouse having to be pulled down every time she rose her arms.

“Morning, sugar.” Richie’s lazy grin and tired eyes never failed to bring a smile on her face even before they started ‘dating’. His hair wasn’t brushed at all, making y/n feel better about her appearance. His body leaned slanted against the doorframe while he waited for her and the white tip of his Converse made its attempt to dig into the porch.

“Sugar?” y/n asked, bemused. She grabbed her keys from the table next to the door, using them to lock the door behind her.

“You look different today.” y/n’s head raised from its once concentrated position from the lock on her door.

“Different how?” She inquired, mostly wondering if this difference was a good or bad thing.

“You look good.” y/n’s cheeks couldn’t help but heat at the compliment. Richie was always calling her cutesy names or saying shit like actually, now that my glasses are on, your ass does look good in those jeans. This should be no different, right?

It only felt different because they were… an item is what y/n convinced herself somewhere along the drive to school. Richie opened the door for her when she got in (and out), but in return, she’d have to let him play his favorite station.

“it’s only courtesy, babe.” Richie shrugged but his eyes kept on the road. “I scratch your back, you scratch mine.”

But two weeks in, y/n found out she liked what this rock ‘n roll guy had to offer. She liked the loud beat of the drum and how the guitar sang in her ears. She liked Richie’s voice that overpowered Elvis’s when he sang along to the lyrics, knowing every word by heart.

“I don’t get why you’re taking me anywhere,” y/n said. She sat in the passenger’s seat of his car like she usually did. “We don’t have to pretend unless we’re, like, in public.” Her voice became small, almost regretting the words that came out of her mouth. Secretly, she hoped Richie wouldn’t turn the 1965 Chevrolet Camaro around.

“It’s not like we aren’t friends.” Richie’s thumb made a tap, tap, tapping sound against the steering wheel. “Friends hang out, right?”

y/n smiled but didn’t answer. It never occurred to her that they weren’t dating. After a while, it just seemed so natural; the hand holding under lunch tables; the way he held her binder for her.

“Is that heavy, sweetheart?” Richie stood next to y/n, intently watching as she struggled with her books in one arm: her other hand turning the combination lock. His gaze never left her figure. He was thoughtful, caring…

“Kind of, but you don’t need to—”

Ignoring y/n, Richie took the books from her hold. He already had books of his own to carry, but he couldn’t let his girlfriend struggle with hers.

“Yeah… friends.” y/n couldn’t seem to face him while uttering the words. Friends. The declaration felt so distant. After all, they had been more than friends—or pretending to be more than friends. But at the end of the day, y/n didn’t know if she wanted to be just friends with Richie Tozier. That was new considering, she never saw Richie as something else. Something that greeted her with flowers before school and held open the door for her. Not until now, no. Richie was always… Richie.

Richie Tozier who was always caught doing his homework last minute in art—because that’s the easiest class, babe. Richie Tozier who liked detention because he could catch up on a few extra minutes of lost beauty sleep. Richie Tozier who stopped bringing his lunch to school because you’re the only sugar I need.

y/n rolled the window down, letting a breeze sweep through her hair and tickle her skin. She needed a distraction because the recent epiphany of the boy next to her being the reason for her heart palpitations was something to need a distraction from.

The sky bled orange and purple—the colors perfectly melted into one another—and y/n wondered if this wasn’t their world after all. Maybe they were being controlled and the puppeteer behind her was playing some sick joke by making her catch feelings for Richie Tozier. y/n didn’t even notice they came to a stop until the click of Richie’s seatbelt grabbed her ears from their trance.

“You comin’?” Richie asked from outside of her side of the car. He was hunched down, his forearm resting on the door to help prop him up.

“Yeah.” y/n swallowed but it hurt. It felt like acid ripped through her esophagus but the only thing she had to drink that day was water. She reached for the door handle, but Richie was faster, already opening the door himself. “Such a gentleman,” y/n snickered.

“Of course.” Richie stayed behind to lock the doors.

“So, you drove me, just a friend, all the way out to the best milkshakes in town?” y/n asked, eyeing the neon-lit sign that read

Hwy 90

The highway to your stomach.

They served other things, but they specialized in milkshakes—something neither Richie nor y/n would care to pass up. But nothing y/n would drive thirty minutes for just for some glorified ice cream in a glass.

“It’s the least I could do.” Richie opened the door for y/n once again. The entrance door to the diner made a jingling sound as the top corner hit the bells which hung from the ceiling.

“The least you could do?” y/n wondered aloud, but Richie wasn’t given the chance to answer her question when a waitress scurried up to them, a stack of menus in one arm and a bundle of silverware in the other. She was taller than y/n but shorter than Richie and she wore black and white bowling shoes to match the wide-legged jeans and polo underneath her apron. “Is it just you two?” She asked sweetly, hiking the pile of menus up higher on her arm.

“Yeah,” Richie said. He stuffed his hands in his back pocket, not knowing where to put them.

The waitress showed them to a small booth that sat in the corner of the brightly lit restaurant. It was too bright for y/n’s eyes under the red, blue, and pink hues that reflected across the shiny white tile, But the corner table the girl had brought them to would do. There was a certain coziness to it, or maybe it was the thought of sitting so close to Richie in a public setting that settled y/n’s eyes.

“I’m Annie. I’ll be your server today,” the girl said as soon as Richie and y/n slid into their respective sides of the red pleather seats. She was fast-talking and all shades of nervousness as her left hand went to grab the number two pencil that fastened the blonde curls that were pinned in a knot on top of her head. “Can I get you anything?”

“A menu would be nice,” y/n said. In front of them sat a table, salt and pepper shakers, and a half-empty Heinz ketchup bottle. Annie had forgotten to give the two a menu.

“My apologies!” She exclaimed, bashful. She handed them each a menu to sift through.

“Don’t sweat it.” Richie winked in her direction and y/n felt herself grow… what was that? Anger? Annie’s pale skin blushed a bright red and y/n could tell it wasn’t the apron making her feel hot.

It took Richie a full-fledged thirty seconds and two skims through the laminated paper for him to decide what he wanted, and it took y/n at least two minutes. “I’ll have a Cookies n Cream. Extra sweet.” Just like you.

y/n was biting her thumb and still reading over the same three flavors that caught her eye while Annie stood patiently waiting for her response. Richie was messing with the saltshaker. His leg found hers under the table and gave it a quick kick.

“Ouch.” She looked up from the menu, averting her attention to the boy in front of her with a fix glare. “Can I have Vanilla? With a cherry on top?”

Annie scribbled down both of their orders in messy writing before making her way across the floor and to the kitchen.

“Vanilla?” Richie laughed and y/n didn’t know what was so funny. “’Cause you’re vanilla?” He covered his mouth with his hand before another fit of laughter would consume the table.

“Shut up.” Swiftly, y/n’s leg propelled into his which caused Richie’s laughs to die down, replaced by a single yelp.

“So…” Richie’s eyebrows wiggled. His nails, which were painted a shade of deep blue by y/n and already chipped, thumped against the surface of the table. y/n could tell whatever he was beginning to suggest wouldn’t be something she liked just from the tone of his voice.

“So?”

“Why Bill?” Oh.

“I don’t know what you mean.” She knew exactly what he meant.

“Why do you like ole Big Bill?” The nickname had slipped out unconsciously. The nickname Richie hadn’t heard in years. The nickname Richie hadn’t said in years. It felt exotic on his lips, but comforting, like a hug from his mom.

Why did she like Bill? y/n asked herself silently. She was gnawing on the inside of her cheek when the question popped up again and the sound of Bill’s voice startled her.

“What’s ruh-ruh-wrong? Juh-juh-hust tell me what I can do, and I’ll ff-fix it.” What was wrong? Seemingly, everything was perfect. The boy y/n had been crushing on for years was finally in her reach—her grasp, even. Bill’s head turned to face y/n, but his arm stayed tightly coiled around her side. It wasn’t the same as Richie’s possessive hold from two months ago. His hand that played with the fabric of her shirt felt cold. Bill felt cold.

It couldn’t be that she missed Richie, no. Richie was busy—probably swapping spit with one Vanessa Jennings. Vanessa with the light brown hair and curls that framed her not-too-big head ever so perfectly. Vanessa who never needed a tan. Vanessa with the long legs that were probably wrapped—

But it didn’t matter. y/n was busy, too. The Bill Denbrough was at her side and she couldn’t have asked for anything else. She didn’t need anything else. Not when his red flannel hugged her torso because are you could? My parents won’t let me turn up the heat, but I can offer you this. Like a gentleman, he proceeded to strip the flannel from his bodice, leaving him in a white baseball tee.

“Why would you think something’s wrong?” y/n looked at Bill then looked down to see the nails she had just painted were now ruined. She looked up again. “Nothing’s wrong,” she assured, not all convincingly.

“You just… yo-you ha-haven’t-t s-s-said anything since you cuh-cuh-walked in.”

“I haven’t?” y/n asked, now picking at the tip of her thumb, hoping what had taken two weeks to grow out would magically regrow in seconds. Saving his voice, Bill only shook his head.

“You nuh-know you can tuh-tell me. Ruh-right?” y/n nodded but what could she tell him?

Sorry I’ve been holding a massive crush on you for years like one holds a cleaver over their head but all of a sudden I’m into this guy I met in my art class who never brushes his hair and writes ‘smoking and smoking hot’ on his college resume.

“I think I’m just tired,” she lied while also feigning a yawn. She covered her mouth when it opened, pretending to be sleepy.

“Do-do you want me to tuh-take you home?” Bill asked. He was just as thoughtful as Richie. He was just as handsome as Richie, maybe even more. So why couldn’t y/n bring herself to like him as much as Richie? His arm left from her side and he used it to pick up the remote, turning the tv off. The worst part was, that when Bill’s hand stopped playing with the fabric of the flannel she wore and his arm left her frame, she didn’t feel a coldness that would usually wash over her when Richie’s arm left her. She felt free.

“I don’t want our afternoon to be spoiled,” y/n said. Her eyebrows furrowed and even though she knew she was lying through her teeth, she wanted to make this work. After all these years of pining for her study partner and favorite Derry High baseball player, she needed for this to work. To see the vision she’d created in her head, just a mere two years ago, collapse in front of her very eyes broke her. But at the same time, she was indifferent. Why should she care about the boy in front of her when the boy she actually wanted was a neighborhood away?

“Tr-trust me. It-it’s not.” Bill shrugged. He stood up and offered y/n his hand which she didn’t take. Instead, she sat there, planted in her same seat, waiting for him to continue. “I can tuh-take you home. And wuh-we can hang out to-tomorrow. You nuh-know when you’re well rested.” All of the sudden, this felt very real. Hanging out with Bill felt real. Being at his house felt real. And though his efforts were valiant, y/n couldn’t accept the offer.

A smile graced her lips and Bill mirrored that. “Yeah, okay. Uh, take me home—please.”

y/n stood up and Bill guided her to the door and to Zach Denbrough’s car as if she hadn’t had the place memorized from when she first came over for a History project they’d been assigned to do.

What did she ever see in him?

“I don’t know.” y/n’s shoulders bopped up and down and even though her figure was hunched, Richie still thought she looked graceful.

“Are you just sayin’ that or did you end up falling in love with little ole me and you can’t think of anything?” Just then, their milkshakes arrived. Both in frosted glass and both with a cherry on top. A feeling of relief swallowed the lump in her throat, or maybe that was the taste of vanilla ice cream now that she was given some time, and a reason, to stall. y/n hated how on-the-nose Richie could be. But she also loved that about him. He could be so, so unexpectedly smart about some things. Things that were right in front of her that she’d never even notice until Richie pointed it out. “Oh, come on.” Richie’s words would’ve sliced through the silence in the air if it weren’t for the chatter of other people and jukebox playing in the background. “Seriously, y/n/n, there’s gotta be something that drew you to him.”

“Well… he’s nice.”

“Okay cut the crap.”

“What?” y/n asked, finding herself annoyed that she not only had to reveal her feelings to a boy she may or may not like but also because he’s nice apparently wasn’t a sufficient enough answer.

“I need an actual answer. Not some bullshit response like he’s nice or he’s funny. Anyone can be nice or funny, y/n.”

“Well, whether you like it or not, Bill is nice. He’s genuine, and cares about the people around him… Selfless.”

Richie was upset at her response. Not because y/n countered his argument in a way he was left speechless but because she was right. Bill was the nice guy and Richie… wasn’t. Bill was the one who looked out for others, making sure they were okay. He was the one who made sure no one got left behind. He was the one everyone looked up to—not Richie, Bill. It was always Bill. Whereas Richie’s just the guy who stands in the background making funny noises only to be told to shut up.

“Yeah… Bill is nice.”

“Don’t tell me you’re my competition, Tozier.” y/n laughed at the oddity of fighting with Richie for the chance to be with Bill.

“Nah,” Richie shook his head, his hair flying in any direction possible. “You’re lucky I’m not, though. You wouldn’t have the chance, babe.”

y/n wanted to eat her heart out at the usage of babe in such an informal setting where they didn’t have to pretend, but the maraschino cherry resting on top of the pile of whipped cream would suffice. “Do you still like Vanessa?” The words tumbled from y/n’s mouth like they were nothing. But embarrassment replaced the blood flowing through her veins once she was aware of what she just said.

“It’s… complicated,” Richie said honestly, not caring that y/n might’ve crossed boundaries just then.

“What’s complicated?” y/n cocked her head like a puppy questioning why its master was making weird hand motions.

“You’ll understand when you’re older, kid.” Richie didn’t mean to come off as condescending, but he did.

“I’m the same age as you.” y/n crossed her arms after pushing away the half-empty, frosted glass in front of her.

Ignoring the red straw in his drink, Richie brought the edge of the glass to his lips and swallowed the thick shake. “Here’s the thing. Vanessa and I go way back.”

“How far is way back if you only dated her for four months?” y/n regretted even bringing her up. Maybe it was different back then, back when the two were actually dating. But now, y/n couldn’t remember a time when someone said the name ‘Richie Tozier’ and her heart didn’t feel like it would explode into a collision of fireworks.

“Four and a half,” Richie corrected with a grin breaking out on his lips. “But I dunno. She’s just special.”

“Special as in…?” y/n probed, and she hated herself for her big mouth that wouldn’t stop applying lemon juice to an obviously open wound.

“I love her.” Richie took another drink of Cookies n Cream, which was more cream than cookies, and y/n sat there in shock. She would be silly to think that after all these weeks, Richie would feel the same way about her. After all, he had a life outside of the fake one they’d construed. Or maybe Richie was just less emotionally confined to these sorts of things. He knew better than to get caught up in a fake relationship. Of course he would.

But knowing Richie still loved his ex, struck something in y/n’s core. And the fact that he was able to say it in such a nonchalant manner—such casualty—only dug deeper at the pit in her stomach.

“You love her?” y/n asked, her mouth still full of the sweet treat he’d pay for later in the evening.

“Love. Loved.” Richie shrugged like this was nothing—well, maybe this was nothing. Maybe y/n was the speck of dust on his shirt and him shrugging was the last of her existence from his being leaving. “What’s the difference?”

“There’s a big difference.” y/n wanted to scream. Luckily, she had enough self-perseverance to keep her composure. She swallowed. “One is past tense, and one is present tense.”

“How ‘bout I put it this way.” Richie set aside his drink so now nothing was blocking his view of y/n. He leaned forward and rested his hands on the table. “I don’t like…” He paused. Revealing that he had no intention in getting back with his once first love would possibly wreck this whole thing. “If Vanessa asked, I’d probably get back with her,” Richie finally said, thinking that must’ve been a suitable way to word the jumble of letters floating around in his head like alphabet soup.

“You would?” y/n asked, feeling like a little kid all over again.

Richie didn’t say anything.

“Do you and her still…”

“Still what?”

“Talk, I guess is what I’m trying to say.” y/n messed with her fingers, pulling at a hangnail she’d know she’d regret doing when it got to later in the night.

“Nah. But don’t worry about it, sweets.” Richie took out his wallet only to be met with a picture of the dreaded girl they’d just been talking about. He gulped. His spit tasted like Oreos and he knew he’d have a stomachache later. Richie thumbed out a ten-dollar bill and five ones to keep Alexander Hamilton company. “Ole Vanessa could never get in the way of you if that’s what you’re wonderin’.”

It was what she was wondering.

But she’d never let Richie know that. y/n crossed her arms tighter around her torso because right now it felt like Richie could see right through her.

Richie drove her home in the same way Bill would a month from that night. But Richie had a better taste in music and y/n was actually sad to part from him when he left her at her doorstep.

“I’m really sorry I had to cut our time short,” y/n said. She was sorry.

“It’s ff-fine. I al-already sai—”

“Yeah, but I feel awful, Bill.” y/n finally mucked up the courage to look him in the eye. Those blue eyes that’d been searching for hers all afternoon. “This was probably like… the worst first date in the history of first dates.”

“Ih-it’s not so bad. But that duh-depends on how muh-many first dates you’ve been on.” Bill laughed and y/n was trying to figure out what was funny about what he said.

“You’ve been on worse ones?” y/n asked anxiously.

“Luh-let’s just say th-they duh-didn’t get a second date.”

y/n nodded while her hands started to search for the keys in her purse.

“I’ll ss-see you tuh-tomorrow?”

“Or at my funeral. Whichever comes first.” For a moment, the bad thoughts cleared from the surface of y/n’s head. Laughter was the only thing she was aware of for a moment.

“Bye, y/n/n.”

“Bye, Richie,” y/n said bashfully. Her hands were strewn behind her back because she didn’t know what they would do if they weren’t. He was about to walk off—off into the moonlight. And y/n would have to wait until Monday to see him again. It was one day too long because she knew even though the two of them had nothing better to do tomorrow, he’d see it as just friends whereas y/n would see it… differently. “Richie, wait!”

“What?” Richie turned around. His hands sat inside of his front pockets and his posture was slumped, as always.

“Thanks… for tonight.” Richie nodded, and validation from him served as a sick kind of ego booster that egged y/n to keep going. “They really are the best milkshakes in town.”

“Yeah.” Richie’s scratchy voice soothed y/n under the frosty air that came from winters in Maine. y/n stepped closer, her hands still behind her back.

“Did you have a good time?”

“You know I always have a good time when I’m with you.” Richie nudged y/n’s elbow with his but was taken aback by her hands that now gripped his shoulders and how suddenly close she was against him.

y/n kissed him on the cheek, not daring to go for his lips because who’s ever heard of a kiss goodbye on the cheek? Is probably what Stacy Howards would retort back to her after she’d spill the happenings of Saturday night to Derry High’s favorite cheerleader in study hall.

His cheek tasted like salt and Irish Spring—that is, if she knew what Irish Spring tasted like. Which she definitely didn’t.

She didn’t linger long. Richie wished she stayed longer. The kiss was short and sweet and the taste of vanilla on her lips replaced a fraction of his cheek that tasted like body wash and sodium chloride.

“Goodnight,” y/n said, now finally coming to her senses.

“Ye-yeah.” Richie blinked, an alternative to pinching himself in front of the girl he’d been pretending to date. “Night.” But after pretending for so long, Richie couldn’t help but notice the less it felt like pretending.

y/n closed the door behind her with a slam, making sure to lock it in case intruders were in the neighborhood. Now that Bill was gone, her first instinct was to call up Richie—tell him that the date went well, and how he was such a great friend, and thanks for the help. But there were only so many times she could lie to a boy she felt feelings so deeply for. The first, coincidentally, was when Richie had asked how things were going with Bill.

“Make any progress so far?” Richie asked with a face full of ham. They were eating lunch together, per usual. But this time, unlike the many times before, the hand that wasn’t holding his sandwich was rubbing circles on y/n’s small hand that Richie’s swallowed.

“Comme ci comme ça.” y/n smiled to herself at her basic understanding any French One student would master. “It’s going alright…” y/n had never been a natural liar. Whenever she told her parents she had cleaned her room when she, in fact, didn’t, the hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention and her forearm broke out in an itch she could never quite scratch. But her internal biological workings had given her a break today. There was no itch and her hairs stayed in place from when she styled her hair that morning.

“What’s alright?” Richie questioned, though it sounded more like an interrogation.

“He started talking to me more.”

“He didn’t already talk to you?” Richie’s eyebrow rose because how were you supposed to fall for a guy you barely talked to?

“Well, yeah, he talks to me.” The pad of Richie’s thumb that was drawing slow circles onto y/n’s knuckles turned into lines. Back and forth. Back and forth. “But he used to talk to me about classwork and… you know, like, school.” Richie smiled when she talked. He was happy for his friend. He truly was. But he couldn’t stand the fact that the guy she was talking about wasn’t him—let alone, his former best friend. “And in APUSH, instead of asking about my grade or whatever, he… asked about me.”

“What’d Mister Charming have to say?”

Mister Charming sat two seats away from y/n. But that didn’t stop him from talking to her. Every now and then, Bill would steal glances at the girl from his peripheral vision. Sometimes, if he were feeling bold, he’d turn to face her—but that action only occurred when she was speaking. Today, however, was different. Today he’d talk to her.

Lucky for Bill, the pencil sharpener sat in the back of class—close to where y/n’s seat was.

“Hey.”

y/n looked up from her textbook. She didn’t want to assume the hushed voice was for her—but she had to figure the tap on her shoulder was.

“Hi.” She set her pencil down and folded her arms flat on the desk. “What’s up?” y/n swore she sounded insane. Who says what’s up—

“Th-the sky.” Bill’s smile made cloudy days seem cloudless. “I was wuh-wondering ih—” He swallowed the trail of saliva that gathered in the back of his throat. “If… are yo-you and Ruh-Richie like…”

“No!” y/n said quickly and a little too loudly.

“Good.”

“Good?”

“Muh-maybe we cuh-could hang out… This Saturday work?” A stroke of nervousness flitted across his features for a second even though Bill didn’t have anything to be nervous about. The rest of y/n’s words got caught in her throat and she instinctively found herself writing down her number on the scratch piece of paper Mr. Ferguson passed out for notetaking.

“Call me.”

Bill did call. Which was precisely how y/n was stuck frozen in time; her back slanted against the door and her thoughts racing against one another.

She had two options at hand. Call Richie. Find Richie. Or wait it out for tomorrow when Bill’s same car would be in her driveway, waiting for her.

But a third option was already at y/n’s doorstep, contemplating ringing the doorbell.

Richie Tozier stood outside of y/n’s front door, palms sweaty and unusually anxious for confrontation. His pale fingers knotted together. It was their way of stalling from interacting with y/n for as long as possible—or as long as curfew would allow him to.

“Hey.” His stalling attempt was left unsuccessful when y/n opened the door. Ironically, he was just the person she had hoped to run into. “What are… what are you doing?”

“Me?” Richie’s eyebrows stitched together, and he pointed to himself with his index finger.

“You’re the only one here,” y/n deadpanned.

“I was just in the neighborhood, y’know. Doin’ neighborly things.”

“You don’t live in this neighborhood.” Richie feigned laughter but this time y/n didn’t laugh with him. “Seriously, Rich, why are you here? You knew I had my date with Bill and—”

“And what?” His tone grew firm, like it had grabbed her by the hand and urged whatever was eating at her insides out of her.

“And I don’t think you should be here, after I just got done with my date with somebody else!” y/n said with a shaky breath. She could feel her heartbeat almost burning through her chest that rose and fell harshly.

“How was it? Your date?” Richie had calmed down, but y/n didn’t.

“It went bad. Is that what you wanted to hear?” y/n muttered, but it could’ve been mistaken for a yell.

“No, why would you think—hold on. What’s up with you?” Richie’s hands stuffed themselves in his front pocket. His posture was hunched over, and his face now screwed together, trying to understand the girl standing before him.

“I don’t know.” The flame that had once ignited y/n’s lively spirits had died down. “I just. It didn’t go well, that’s all,” y/n said, unable to coax the words she actually wanted to say out of her lips.

“He wasn’t an asshole, was he?” Richie’s tone was protective—nothing y/n would expect from him two months ago when she’d gotten themselves into this mess.

“No! No.” y/n was complicated. First, she’d spew off about how her date was bad and now she was defending said date?

“God, y/n/n, can you just make up your mind?”

She could do that.

“You were right,” y/n declared.

“What?”

“Don’t make me say it again.” Her voice lowered to a whisper, but Richie could still make out what she was saying.

“Well, I’m always right, toots. I just need context—”

“About the fake dating thing. How eventually one person’s bound to fall for the other…” Her toes curled from under the white Converse she hadn’t had time to slip off. They were worn and the bottoms were yellowing from the number of times she’d matched them to an outfit. “And you don’t look like you’re on your knees, so.”

“So, what?” y/n didn’t notice the smirk edging on the corners of Richie’s lips.

“Tozier, don’t make me say it.”

“You have to, or God knows how long we’ll be standing on this fuckin’ porch,” Richie said patiently. Patient. Richie was never patient—always the one to urge his friends to hurry the fuck up, always the one to ask are we there yet? But this time he was. His figure stood still and ominous, like Santa on Christmas Eve. His breathing held steady in his lungs that had seen more smoke than his mother’s kitchen and his feet stood planted on the concrete stoop of y/n’s house and they’d stay there until she told him the very damned thing she didn’t want to.

“I like you, okay?” y/n knew if she blinked, the dam of tears in her eyes would finally burst and the last thing she wanted was having Richie Tozier see her cry. Well, second to last thing. The first thing on that list had already happened. “Look, I know you’re still in love with Van-Vanessa.” It hurt to say the girl’s name because she wasn’t just a girl, she was Richie’s ex. “But you asked me to say it and I did. So there.”

y/n was about to turn back. Back into her house and back out of this friendship. It was only because Richie laughed that y/n stopped. His chuckle was like music, not the kind that Richie blasted in his car with the windows down, but like a symphony. And if y/n were any less mortified right now, maybe she’d stop to admire it—him—for one second more.

She was about to ask why. Why are you mocking me when I’m so clearly in a vulnerable state right now? Why are you mocking me after I’d just shared something so deep and personal with the likes of you? About the likes of you? But y/n didn’t get the chance when Richie surged forward and pressed a kiss against her lips. She could feel her heart pick up even more at the taste of him: spearmint and tobacco. She thought it’d stabilize itself once his lips left hers, but it didn’t. His taste lingered and at the time it felt permanent, like a red stain on white furniture.

“Like I said. Ole Vanessa could never get in the way of you.” His breath hit her face, warm and intoxicating, and y/n could only think that kissing Richie on the lips was way better than kissing him on the cheek.

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heavvyweather · 3 years

Text

You’re my Idol! ~ ☆ Chapter 3

Mista x Trish _______________________________________________________________________ a/n - this chapter contains mentions of attempted sexual assault towards trish. if that makes you uncomfortable, please skip this chapter! i’ll leave a censored summary at the end for anyone who would like to keep up with the series but isn’t ready to read this chapter. stay safe and have a lovely day! <33(also this chapter is lowkey rlly angsty so uh . prepare yourself for that jhrgdhnb) _______________________________________________________________________ Mista sat back on the couch, more content than ever. Trish’s return had instantly cheered everyone up, making mundane daily life bright and lively. Nightly card games and harmless pranks became a common occurrence with Trish around, bringing laughter into the once dull household. Everyone in the base had been enjoying every moment spent with Trish, Mista more than the rest with Narancia coming in at a close second. Though, her constant performances and need for time alone made taking her out on the town a rare occasion. Tonight contained yet another of those exasperating performances, but she’d be home any second now. Mista counted down the seconds as he anxiously waited for her return, buzzing with excitement to see her again after a long day. Mista nearly jumped out of his seat as he heard the sound of the door, before sitting back down and doing his best to seem cool and collected. Trish stepped inside, tossing her purse on the counter and kicking off her shoes before shuffling inside. “Hey, look who’s back! How was your day?” Mista wrapped the girl up in a warm hug, burying his face in her shoulder. “I bet your performance was perfect, you always manage to be incredible-” Something was up. Mista stepped back and scanned Trish’s face, immediately struck by the dark exhaustion covering her face. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Mista gently tucked a loose strand of pink hair behind her ear, worry filling his gaze. “Was it your performance? Did something go wrong? You look so upset...” His voice trailed off as Trish looked up at him. “I’m fine.” Her voice was weighed down and bleak as she brushed past him, walking towards her room. “Nothing happened.” “Woah there!” Mista jogged to catch up to her, stepping up the stairs in sync with the girl. “Something’s definitely wrong here, are you sure you’re okay? You don’t seem too good, did someone bother you? I can take care of it if you need me to, I’ll do anything, really!” “No. Like I said, I’m fine.” They reached the top of the stairs and Trish made a sharp turn into her room, Mista right on her heels. She sat down on her bed and sighed, doing her best to ignore Mista’s worried line of questions. “Trish.” “What?” Mista sat down on the bed next to her, taking her hand in his and looking into her eyes. “What happened?” He asked one last time, a distraught expression on his face. She covered her face with a hand and exhaled, frustration and sadness working its way into her voice. “There was a guy at the show tonight.” Mista watched her as she struggled to explain, searching her face for answers. “He um, well after the show, he like… This guy came backstage, and he started getting really close to me and he made some gross comments and, like, security took him away before he could get too close but,” she paused, “it was uh, a little scary.” She laughed weakly. Trish sighed and sat back on her bed, staring at the ceiling. “Just another day in the life of a star. Nothing I haven’t seen before.” She looked back towards him. “Well, I should probably get to bed now!” A fake smile was plastered onto her face as she pretended to be happy as could be, though she was still visibly shaken. “I’ve had a long day and more work to do in the morning, I’ll see you tomorrow-” “Trish.” Mista’s voice shook as he once again took her hand. “That’s awful, I can’t believe that happened. You said this was normal in celebrity work?” She looked at him quizzically. “Well, yeah. Stuff like this can get pretty commonplace, but it’s really no big deal. No need to get worked up about it.” She smiled gently at him, the action undermined by her soft hands shaking in his. Mista’s heart nearly broke. “Trish, you can’t do this to yourself.” His voice was hoarse as he looked at her. “You work so hard, and people treat you like this? I mean, you fall asleep in the middle of our card games sometimes from the exhaustion, you’re out every night and I just…” His gaze dropped to the floor as words ran through his head. I love you. “I’m just, I’m so worried about you.” He looked back towards her, completely helpless as to what to do. “You should quit. Stay with us, we can take care of you-” Trish pulled her hand out from under his, suddenly defensive as if a switch had been flipped. “Are you kidding me right now?” “No, I’m telling you it’s dangerous out there, that guy tonight-” Her voice cut like steel. “I worked my entire life for this. I escaped Passione and the clutches of my father and worked my goddamn ass off to get here, and now because of one little incident you want me to quit?” “I-” “Mista, this was my dream.” She smiled sadly at him as her voice began to waver and a tear streaked down her cheek. “Yeah, it’s hard, but I can’t just give up on this. I just, I can’t.” “Trish, you could’ve been hurt tonight!” Mista’s voice raised an octave as his fear became masked with anger. “I mean, I can’t let that happen to you. Not a chance. You’d risk your safety for all this, what, a silly fantasy? Yeah, you’ve worked hard, but you’ve done enough already! You have a dedicated fanbase that adores your work, you could retire now and live with us, without a care in the world!” You could live with me. Trish’s face hardened as she stared him down. “You just don’t get it, do you. This is my life, Mista. Sure, shit sucks sometimes! It does for everyone! But that doesn’t mean I get to turn tail and run away, I mean, my job is everything to me. There are some rough moments, sure, but I love my work, and my fans, and I won’t drop something I’m passionate about just because you think I need you to protect me.” Mista threw his hands up in the air and stood up. “Fine, do whatever you want! It doesn’t matter anymore, you could go back to America for all I care. Follow your stupid dreams wherever they take you, Trish. Just leave me out of it.” His vision blurred as he held back tears. Trish’s voice became ice cold. “I think you should go.” She glared towards him as he stomped towards the door. “Gladly.” His voice was bitter as he slammed the door behind him, not caring who it woke up at this hour. Everything was a blur as he made his way to his room before he sank down against his bed, tears rushing down his face as his body was racked with silent sobs. Fuck, what have I done?_______________________________________________________________________ a/n - summary of the chapter for those who skipped it: trish had a rough night at her performance, and did her best to brush it off as just the hardships of her job even though it heavily affected her. this rlly upset mista, who told her that it wasnt worth the risks of putting her in danger. this made trish angry bc her job is incredibly important to her, and the whole convo ended in a huge argument between the two. __________________________________________________________ the chapters in the future won’t contain content of this nature and warnings will be listed where needed! that’s all for now, thank you for reading <33

#mista x trish #Jojo Part 5 #jojo golden wind #jjba #fanfic #guido mista #mista #Trish Una #trish

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unfortunatelyilikebnha · 4 years

Text

Oh boy that post I reblogged about Todoroki and Iida understanding memes & pretending not to got me INSPIRED so here r some Izukrew groupchat/meme headcanons:

Everyone thinks the bakusquad chat is crazy and while they’re right, the izukrew chat is just as wild

They have probably planned acts of vigilanteism in here I mean what?

The chat has definitely made at least 164 different plans to kill End**v*r, just in case. They aren’t gonna actually use them they’re just a precaution & a way to vent (probably. End**v*r better watch what he does tho). Someone in the squad had a bad day? Make a plan to kill End**v*r, you’ll feel better. Todoroki doesn’t always contribute, & they always ask him before they make a new plan to make sure he’s still okay with it, but he appreciates the support & knowing that his friends love him and have his back

[Achey Breaky 🅱️ones]: Hey Todoroki, can we make a plan to kill your dad? [Elsa But Better]: ya sure go wild [Running in the 90s]: Can Uraraka float the bastard into the sun? Discuss. [You’ll Float Too]: ive never tried to make anything go that high but for todoroki definitely!! [Elsa But Better]: ...thank you” [Kermit With A Gun]: (flamingdumpster.jpg) it is He go wild Ochako

Uraraka talks in the chat the most, followed by Todoroki (if sending memes counts as talking), Midoriya, Iida, and finally Tsuyu who lurks a lot but doesn’t respond as often as the others

They have a “days since Midoriya last injured himself” counter that they update daily. The record was 15 days. The average is 3.

They change each other’s nicknames often. They have free reign as long as it’s not too mean, and chat rules say they have to keep whatever their name was changed to for at least a week. Sometimes they match names/ have a theme. Sometimes they bring their name changes over to the main chat too.

There is a designated “Iida Appreciation Day” when the chat is especially nice to and appreciative of Iida that happens in the chat every few weeks because they realize that they as a class are a Lot to deal with & even tho Iida is way more chill in the chat with his close friends than he can be in the main class chat they know he still feels responsible for them & does a lot for them. Iida does not know about Iida Appreciation Day (but when he finds out he is super touched & maybe cries a little bit)

Todoroki is king of the really weird, really abstract memes. The rest of the squad has no idea how he finds them & is kinda too afraid to ask

He also has a reaction image for everything and like,,, he just HAS them he doesn’t look them up, which the rest of the squad realizes cause he replies way too fast to have looked it up on the internet. They are in awe of his power

Besides the izukrew gc, only one person knows that Todoroki memes, and that’s Kaminari, because Todoroki likes to t-pose & do other meme things while Kaminari is looking at him & then as soon as anyone else is about to see what he’s doing he immediately stops. Kaminari is going crazy because nobody will believe him that stoic Todoroki, who has the greatest deadpan expression ever, memes. “Todoroki? Are you sure? Kaminari maybe you’re sick, he doesn’t know memes remember? We yelled ‘this b*tch empty’ in front of him yesterday and he just stared blankly at us.” “BUT MINA I SWEAR I SAW HIM DAB!” Ashido and Sero tried to catch him doing it but gave up after a while, stating that nobody is that good at hiding their meme knowledge. The rest of the izukrew knows obviously but feign confusion because 1) it’s funny and 2) Todoroki is genuinely having fun. When Todoroki eventually reveals to the rest of the class that he can meme, he apologizes for pranking a very vindicated Kaminari.

Iida likes those memes that combine several memes. He sends reaction images that are just memes without text bc he knows his friends will understand exactly what he’s talking about

He’s also king of photoshop & totally uses those skills for evil - he’s rly good at putting Lucky Luciano into pictures, making his friends break into a cold sweat as he sends a picture to the chat that is seemingly the exact same as the one the last person sent. Since they’re so competitive they have an ongoing competition to see who can find him first (Iida keeps the score. Right now Tsuyu is winning, but the ranks change often)

He, like Todoroki, pretends not to know memes, but takes it a little further & pretends not to know teen slang either so he can misuse it in front of people & laugh at his classmates cringing (Iida: Seatbelts are important. As Ashido might say, they are “totes yeet, yo!” Ashido: //crying// IIDA NO! Iida: Does that not mean that it is very important? Ashido: //crying louder// NO!!!). Some classmates attempt to “teach” him but he “just does not get it”. Again the izukrew pretends not to know because it’s funny.

Uraraka is queen of wholesome memes. She has so many “I love my friends” memes & always has cute images ready to send in case anyone is sad or stressed. Everyone in the chat would die for her no questions asked (she will use this to her advantage one day probably).

She also really likes spongebob memes and uses them often. Her favorite is the one where spongebob is wearing those pink frilly glasses

While she is queen of wholesome memes, she’s not afraid to tease anyone & often sends smug/teasing reaction images. Nobody is safe, especially if they tease her first, & if there’s a competition in the chat she goes all in. When she wins anything it’s like “[You’ll Float Too]: (dignitylaugh.gif) whats this? it seems i have won our little competition...” (But then immediately after she sends her first victory message she’s like “lmao jk good game”)

Midoriya sends links to random ass YouTube videos to the chat at 3 am. Sometimes the videos aren’t even memes they’re all might documentaries or something he thought was interesting or thought one of his friends might think was interesting or videos someone made about how they trained their quirk that he thinks might help someone but sometimes they’re completely nonsensical. It’s like a roulette wheel every time someone clicks a link Midoriya sent. Sometimes the chat makes bets about the contents of the video before anyone opens it. Most of the time they’re all wrong.

He doesn’t rlly have a favorite style of meme, but he always has a million specific variations of whatever meme is popular at the time and all past popular memes. His phone camera is like a meme record. He’s rlly good at finding vine comps with good but not rlly well known vines.

He also infodumps in the chat sometimes bc they let him & he is really grateful that his friends are actually interested in what he has to say

Tsuyu sends memes that roast the sh*t out of everyone in the chat. When one of her friends is doing smth stupid she totally calls them out in the form of memes (she’s really good at finding those tiktoks that feel like they are roasting you specifically). She’s a comedic timing genius and knows just when to send things (& because she doesn’t use the chat as much that makes it even funnier). She also is, rather predictably, fond of frog memes

She also loves making those alignment chart type memes (& the ones with like the triangles or the four quadrants) & makes them for/about her friends & classmates often. She is scarily good at reading people and hits the nail on the head 99% of the time. Sometimes she sends them to the main class chat too and the rest of the class is like ?!?!?!?!?!?!

Because she’s a big sister, she often sends reminders to the chat to take care of bthemselves (Iida does this a lot too, but sometimes she has to remind him because he’s so caught up in caring about others he forgets to care about himself. Actually everyone in this chat is guilty of that including Tsuyu smh). Since the others make sure she takes care of herself in return, she’s really grateful for her friends

Bonus hcs:

Aoyama, once he is added to the chat, become the expert at sending selfies of himself looking directly at the camera while a member of the chat is distracted in the background, not seeing him. The chat makes it a game to try and spot Aoyama before he can get a picture, but Aoyama always wins. When asked how he can escape the detection of even those who are always on edge/have been trained to notice every little movement, he just smiles and says “it’s a secret~!”

Shinsou, who eventually replaces M*n*t* in 1A bc this is my city & grape boy is gross, does a thing called “insomniac hours” where he will send a random question to the chat at like 3 am & Midoriya, who is almost always awake then (or sometimes Todoroki Tsuyu or Uraraka if they’re up, and very very occasionally Iida), will give him a super detailed answer. Sometimes during the day the chat plays a version of this where Shinsou asks an obviously nonsensical question and the rest of the chat has to come up with long, nonsensical answers & then votes on the best ones. Many inside jokes were borne from this game.

#bnha #todoroki shouto #iida tenya #midoriya izuku #endeavor tw #uraraka ochako #asui tsuyu #kaminari denki #ashido mina #sero hanta #aoyama yuuga #shinsou hitoshi #mineta tw #have i spent over an hour on these? yeah. do i regret it? not in the slightest #(well. i do have a lot of late work but its not like i was probably gonna do rhat anyways)#this is LONG I’m sorry shaksvsjshsjsbjabsjsbs i just think the izukrew is neat

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maribvgs · 4 years

Note

Okay but this has been in my head since forever and I can't seem to be able to write it well enough. Adrien realizing he might be bi because he's developed feelings for a boy(Luka) and so he goes to Luka who is also bi(most likely tbh) and asks for advice! It doesn't have to end in a romantic way, I just rlly need to see my sons helping each other😭 I really liked your other works so ye keep it up💕✨

TYSMMM ur support and love means the world my dude also i liked writing this!

some background knowledge: reveal has happened so mari and adrien know eachother! they don’t date bc mari is dating kagami

-🐞-🐞-🐞-

He didn’t really know when it had begun. Maybe it was when he offered Adrien a spot in Kitty Section. Maybe it was when he grabbed Adrien and dragged him to safety during that one day of crazy trumpet lady attack and the Aspik mess. Maybe it was the way when he gave Ladybug back the snake miraculous who then gave it to Luka, the way he smiled at Adrien. And Chat Noir.

Yeah, it was always a smile, or a touch that sent the model into a conflicted mess of thoughts. He couldn’t like boys, right? Adrien only had liked girls before. And this definitely wasn’t a crush. No. Nah. Nope.

Later that evening during patrol, Ladybug noticed Chat’s frown. “Deep in thought?” She plopped down, swinging her legs over the rooftop to kick them. The black-clad superhero accepted a seat next to her.

“What did you feel like when you had a crush? On me, I guess.” Often they didn’t talk about their civilian lives while under the mask, nor did they rarely speak of Chat’s crush on Ladybug and Marinette’s on Adrien.

“Oh geez. I guess I looked forward to seeing you– more than I would’ve if you were Alya or any one of my other friends –the idea of romance always had me think of you. I’d think about whenever we touched, like accidentally brushing fingers etcetera. I also put all of your gifts slash anything you gave me in a special box. Oh geez, you’re going to think i’m even weirder now,” She grumbled after rambling.

“I... I think I have a crush.” Chat hesitated. Ladybug immediately turned to him, interested. “Oh? Who? Please don’t say me because my heat belongs to another,” She joked. It was a ongoing gag, pretending to confess their love for each other.

Chat just shook his head laughing a little bit. “I... Its a guy,” He admits, blushing pink around the edges of the mask. “I’ve never liked guys before so maybe it’s a fluke? Am I gay???” He panicked slightly. Adrien always like to be in control of whatever he could; the inability to eat what he wanted, go where he wanted, do what he wanted, caused him to panic over anything that he knew he could control, yet was unable to.

“You could be bi,” She said, gesturing to herself as if to say ‘like me!’

“I dunno...” she bit his lip and looked out at the city that was laid out before them.

“Maybe you could talk to Luka about it. He’s bi! And He gives the best advice. Plus, I never doubted that I liked girls, I don’t know how much of a help I would be to you.” Ladybug had suggested his crush. Of course. His life was a badly written romcom. But she was right, and logically the only person he would be comfortable in talking to about his possible bisexual awakening would be Luka. Ignoring the fact that the blue-haired boy was in fact, the reason for this crisis.

“You’ve been a big help m’lady,” Chat said. It held the truth, those words. He leaned over and kissed her cheek as a thanks, before standing. “Guess I’ve got a blue haired emo to track down.”

“I’m right here!” She joked.

“Aha! You admit you’re emo!”

“Wait- no! That was sixth grade! Chat come back! Damn weeb cat!”

Laughter filled the streets of Paris, as Chat Noir vaulted away from a gleefully yelling Ladybug.

—————

Adrien landed near the Couffaine’s, and detransformed behind a dumpster. That was seemingly becoming common for this tomcat. Figures.

Luka of course, was sitting out on the deck of the boat, playing his guitar gently. He didn’t look up as Adrien approached.

“H-Hey Luka,” he coughed. Maybe this was a bad idea. He felt his face turn as bright as Nathaniel’s hair. The poor boy wanted to hide in shame now.

Luka strummed a chord and looked up, giving his friend a classic cool Luka smile. “H-Hey Adrien,” he stuttered back. Adrien flopped besides him on the couch dramatically. “You wound me!”

“Oh do I now?” Luka grinned, setting down his guitar, turning to the blonde. “What’s up?”

Adrien cringed inwardly. He was kind of hoping Luka wouldn’t ask, and was very much regretting coming in the first place now... Besides the fact he was here, next to Luka.

“Just uh... questioning stuff,” He grumbled. Luka pulled Adrien’s head onto his lap. Crap, crap, crap.

“Like what?” It was a rhetorical question of course– Marinette texted him that Adrien would come over to talk. Given Luka’s sixth sense, he guessed it was about sexuality. He pointedly ignored the oh-so-obvious (and cute) blush of Adrien’s. The boy on his lap just whined.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Luka offered. He knew when he was struggling with his sexuality, it took him weeks to even admit he liked a boy. Even if his sister was a lesbian.

“No, it’s fine...” Adrien chewed his lip and looked up into those gorgeous blue eyes. Stop thinking like that! Focus on what you need to say!! “I think I have a crush,” he admits. Never before had Adrien felt like he was on a rollercoaster, without you know, actually being on one. “On a boy.” He adds.

Luka smiled and looked away. “What do you need help with then? Getting the lucky guy?” He teased. A small stab of hurt– like when he’d crushed on Marinette who chose Kagami in the end –nagged him. But Luka always pushed that away. If he let jealousy take control of him, he’d never forgive himself for hurting any of his friends. His friends deserved happiness. Adrien deserves happiness. Whoever that lay with was fine with him. It had to be.

“This was stupid, never mind,” Adrien said hurriedly, sitting up and looking about ready to book it.

“It’s not stupid. Hey, if you don’t want to talk, i can do all the talking.” Luka hastily dropped Adrien’s hand that he had grabbed to prevent the blonde from fleeing the boat. In reply, Adrien nodded and shuffled back to the couch to sit back down.

“I’m guessing you need to come to terms with this.”

“Yeah... It’s just. Weird for me, you know? I’ve only ever liked girls before.”

“Yeah. It was for me too. It took a while to accept myself for liking a boy and to even linger to learn and know that liking anyone regardless of gender was a thing. I can proudly say I’m bisexual now, although it took me quite some time to figure it out on my own.” A subtle dusty rose painted the blue haired teen’s checks. “You did good, coming to ask someone.”

“You’re just saying that because I came to you,” Adrien half heartedly teased.

“True, I’m touched you chose to talk to me. But choosing to talk at all is a big step in accepting yourself, or figuring stuff out. You’re not alone.” Giving that signature billion-dollar Luka smile, Adrien’s heart flutters.

“Thanks. I don’t know what to do,” he admits. He feels coy and sly and wrong for talking about his crush... To his crush.

“Ask him out maybe. Take it slow and learn how to navigate a relationship with a guy, just like whoever you date, you still have to navigate your dynamic with them.” Adrien nods. Luka is so... Wise. Or something.

“Okay... Uh Luka do you want to go on a date?” He says it in a rush, that it sounds more upon the lines of “Uh lukadoyouwanttogooutonadate”.

“Just like that! Now go ask the boy.” Adrien stared confusedly.

“Ohmygod. I’m supposed to be the dense one.”

The way Luka’s eyes widen and his face lights up red, in shock is priceless. “I’m such an idiot.”

“Is... Is that a yes?” Adrien fidgets nervously. Oh god, I just made the biggest mistake of my life.

“Yeah.” The other breathes out quietly.

“Adrien. I cannot believe how dense I am.”

“Yeah me neither.” A snicker.

“Hey!”

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send me an ask with a character/ship + angst/fluff OR a character/ship + a prompt!

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goraturtle · 3 years

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1 - 43 please!

WHEWWWWW, i told myself i’d do these questions for two of my main current ocs i play in weekly motw sessions, Astrid and Frankie, if i got any, so let’s goooooo

under a readmore bc this is long and i’m not evil

What’s the maximum amount of time your character can sit still with nothing to do?

Astrid - if she’s with someone? Astrid could probably sit in companionable silence for hours, and she’s very much a “falling asleep on people as a love language” kind of person, so if she trusts u and has time to kill she Will fall asleep on you. If she’s by herself waiting for something to happen or already twitchy to begin with? she could probably stand like 3 minutes before getting agitated and pacing around or finding something to do

Frankie - if she’s ever in a spot where she can’t think of anything to do, she will Find something to do and then get so absorbed in it she won’t move an inch over the course of literal hours. either that or if she’s with people she’ll be content to just laze around and hang out

How easy is it for your character to laugh?

Astrid - not very easy at all, she’s more likely to roll her eyes at you if you try to say something funny or elbow you sharply in the ribs if she doesn’t approve of your joke lol

Frankie - extremely easy, frankie is generally pretty easygoing + especially loves to make other people laugh

How do they put themselves to bed at night (reading, singing, thinking?)

Astrid - this kid is kind of a mess so she’s very much one of those “go over everything in your head that could possibly go wrong in the future” kind of people, which, as you can imagine, doesn’t rlly help with sleep

Frankie - for plot reasons [tw terminal illness ///] (ie. Frankie is actually extremely ill and her backstory is that she came to town seeking a magical cure to save her own life) Frankie is usually so bone weary she doesn’t need a routine. From a young age she’s been good at falling asleep wherever/whenever she wants, but these days the second she hits a slightly cushioned piece of furniture, she’s out like a light (and also a very heavy sleeper)

How easy is it to earn their trust?

Astrid - surprisingly easy if you’re a decent person. she might still be slow to open up but that doesn’t mean that trust isn’t there. for all her prickliness, Astrid likes to believe in the good in people (to her frustration)

Frankie - Not that easy actually! Frankie likes to believe in the good in people too, but she tends to be highly suspicious of strangers

How easy is it to earn their mistrust?

Astrid - depends on the person, very VERY difficult if you’re someone she’s already trusted bc she has a hard time wrapping her head/heart around betrayal (even if she projects otherwise) but if you’re just some rando it’s easy to land yourself on her shitlist

Frankie - Also not easy, she doesn’t mistrust unless you give her a reason to. She’s just pretty neutral on people and tries to cover her bases until she’s got cause to believe otherwise

Do they consider laws flexible, or immovable?

Astrid - my baby was a thief for most of her life before getting scooped up and conscripted into being a superhero, so in general she does not give a shit about the law

Frankie - you know, for a law school dropout you’d think Frankie would care more about laws, but she doesn’t. not even a little bit.

What triggers nostalgia for them, most often? Do they enjoy that feeling?

Astrid - I think seeing happy families for her is a unique trigger, reminds her of when her mom was still around and when her twin siblings were babies. She was separated from the twins for years, and has reconnected with one of them, so I think even spending time w/ her little sis has been triggering major nostalgia as well. She wants to tell her baby sister more about how things were (Caroline was too little to retain most memories from back then) but doesn’t want to push too hard, and doesn’t know how to open up about memories she’s kept close for years. The feeling is painful, but little by little she’s learning to cope w/ it and appreciate it.

Frankie - Happy families is probably a trigger for Frankie as well, since she left home after highschool after getting into a dumb argument w/ her dad. She was always going to go home after getting her law degree, but got her diagnosis + discovered the existence of magic and that changed everything. That nostalgia is extremely painful for her, and she tries to block it out as much as possible, since she knows that the next time she sees her parents it’ll either be after she figures out a cure for herself or once she gives up completely and goes home to accept her fate

What were they told to stop/start doing most often as a child

Astrid - she was a bit of a gregarious wildchild so it was a lot of exasperated “get DOWN from there” “Astrid stop RUNNING” “Don’t forget to hold my hand when we cross the street!!!”s from her mom lol. poor woman.

Frankie - Frankie was a very shy little kid, so it was a lot of gentle coaxings from her parents for her to speak up

Do they swear? Do they remember their first swear word?

Astrid - fuck yeah she does, hers was probably “fuck you”

Frankie - absolutely. she probably swore the first time after hearing her dad cuss or something, so it’d be something like “son of a bitch” or something (her dad probably lost his mind laughing after he heard her say it, and her mom would NOT have been happy w him lol)

What lie do they most frequently remember telling? Does it haunt them?

Astrid - She hasn’t told her baby sister that she was a thief before her current gig, and that makes her feel bad honestly

Frankie - the lie by omission about her general health and why she came to town in the first place. it haunts her literally every single day.

How do they cope with confusion (seek clarification, pretend they understand, etc)?

Astrid - she does not ask questions, probably acts like she understands/is above the conversation but you could definitely catch her side-eyeing people or eavesdropping to try and understand

Frankie - outright is like ‘haha what’

How do they deal with an itch found in a place they can’t quite reach?

Astrid - will scratch herself on every single inanimate object she can reach, scowling the entire time

Frankie - complain very loudly to incite sympathy and help

What color do they think they look best in? Do they actually look best in that color?

Astrid - she generally wears a lot of black/dark blue. She looks good in dark blue, but she also looks great in brighter jewel tones (she won’t wear them though bc she thinks it’s ‘Too Much’)

Frankie - she wears a TON of color all the time, think tacky buttondowns every single day, but she thinks she looks best in that soft peachy kind of orange (and she’s absolutely right)

What animal do they fear most?

Astrid - *takes a long draw off an old wooden pipe* Mankind

Frankie - she was kind of woodsy as a kid, living in montana, so i don’t think she’s really afraid of any animals. maybe a healthy respect for bears? now that she’s a werewolf i don’t think she’s scared of any animals at all

How do they speak? Is what they say usually thought of on the spot, or do they rehearse it in their mind first?

Astrid - definitely an on-the-spot thinker

Frankie - she’s very careful about what she says, generally, but she can blurt stuff out if she’s feeling emotional/not in control

What makes their stomach turn?

Astrid - cruelty in general. She’s lived a hard life and isnt afraid to punch hard, but she doesn’t understand delighting in someone’s suffering

Frankie - thoughts of impending inescapable death

Are they easily embarrassed?

Astrid - depends, most things won’t rattle her but I think genuine affection when she isn’t expecting it will get her a little flustered

Frankie - no she’s a rock. the only thing that could make her blush would be like a genuine romantic confession + someone being interested in her in that way

What embarrasses them?

whoops, see above

What is their favorite number?

Astrid - does not care

Frankie - 420

If they were asked to explain the difference between romantic and platonic or familial love, how would they do so?

Astrid - she’d probably roll her eyes and be like “Don’t be stupid, do I really have to explain something so obvious to you?”

Frankie - “Well first of all if I wanna kiss them on the lips it’s romantic”

Why do they get up in the morning?

Astrid - more habit than anything most days, but she gets up for her little sister, for her teammates, and in the hopes that they’ll be able to find the other twin, her brother, very soon

Frankie - very much does not want to die or let down the people who have supported her since coming to down.

How does jealousy manifest itself in them (they become possessive, they become aloof, etc)?

Astrid - she’d get possessive but ONLY in private, afterwards. Astrid would react off the cuff and get pretty pissy, but get even angrier at herself for lashing out + leave/avoid the person for a while to try and control herself

Frankie - I don’t think she’s used to being possessive so it would take her completely by surprise. She’d get very hurt, and wouldn’t necessarily be aloof, but she’d try to remove herself from the situation so she’s ‘not in the way’. She’d probably get pissed at herself for even feeling hurt, when it’s not like she’s in any position to be laying the foundation for a future anywhere

How does envy manifest itself in them (they take what they want, they become resentful, etc)?

Astrid - thief, so. she will definitely just take that shit provided there’s nothing else to make her hesitate (ie. it’s not a special trinket/memento and provided the person she’s stealing from isn’t struggling to make ends meet)

Frankie - I can’t see her getting envious over a possession or anything honestly

Is sex something that they’re comfortable speaking about? To whom?

Astrid - yeah, why not honestly. I think she’d be fine talking generally about it w/ anyone. She does NOT want to hear any details about her two madly in love middle aged coworkers fucking, though, please no

Frankie - definitely. not a lot of romantic experience, but Frankie is old hat at hookups/one night stands and doesn’t shy away from talking about it if asked. I think she’s more embarrassed about never having been in a real relationship than she is about her sexual history

What are their thoughts on marriage?

Astrid - her mom never got married (she has a different father from the twins, and in both cases the dad fucked off and left after her mom realized she was pregnant) and she is terrified of letting people down, so at the moment she isn’t rlly excited about that kind of thing. Her ex, Charlie, also betrayed her and hurt her pretty badly, and even though they were teenagers Astrid still thought of her as being The One, so she’s doubtful about ever finding or wanting to find a replacement. She’s still young and traumatized though, and I can easily see her mind changing

Frankie - literally domestic life would be bliss for her, but she doesn’t even let herself think about a serious relationship, let alone marriage, bc she does not anticipate living long

What is their preferred mode of transportation?

Astrid - she had this shitty old 2003 chevy silverado she drove for years that she’s still got a soft spot for, even if she’ll swear up and down to any witness that she hates the damn thing

Frankie - she’s got a little prius-c bc i wanted to shove her into a clown car, but she grew up on her parents’ horse farm in montana and tbh. nothing can beat horseback for her.

What causes them to feel dread?

Astrid - these days? being alone/feeling exposed. She’s gotten used to her backup. Also thinking about her lost twin brother has been a major source of dread/pain for her lately

Frankie - when she wakes up in the morning and the body aches and chills are worse than the day before

Would they prefer a lie over an unpleasant truth?

Astrid - no and if she caught someone lying to her just to save her feelings she’d be SO mad, prepare to get ur ass beaten by this maladjusted 5′1 twenty five year old

Frankie - definitely not. which is hypocritical as hell for her, all things considered

Do they usually live up to their own ideals?

Astrid - she sets very high standards for herself that she can’t possibly meet, so no. she’s still trying to feel like she belongs as a superhero

Frankie - usually, but obviously her lying about her health is a major blind spot where she becomes extremely hypocritical

Who do they most regret meeting?

Astrid - i’d say on the surface she says she regretted meeting her ex, Charlie, but that’s not true, not even a little bit. She’s still heartsick over everything that happened between them

Frankie - there was an incident with a werewolf hunter (who Frankie had helped to save the life of) going after Lou and Selene. Lou got shot (Frankie healed him) and the two of them had to kill her, which was obviously traumatizing for them. Frankie still wishes that they’d never even seen the hunter in the first place and regrets saving her life

Who are they the most glad to have met?

Astrid - when she was conscripted into the superhero biz and given her powers, she was put onto a team with two other supers named Arsenal and Bullet (the other player characters, real names are Heather and Cyrus), who are middle aged pros very used to the field. Astrid’s only 25 so they naturally kind of leaned into the parent relationship, and Astrid loves them so much. It was rocky at first because Astrid was adjusting and wasn’t even sure she wanted to be there, but they have been so patient and kind at this point i think Astrid would literally do anything for them

Frankie - the other player characters, again (two twins named Selene and Lou who are members of the local werewolf pack. Frankie got bit in the first session to see if a werewolf’s healing abilities could cure her. It didn’t work), but especially Selene. They’ve been bonding a lot lately and as much as Frankie wants to keep everyone at bay in case she fails and has to leave town in the middle of the night, everyone she’s met in town has made a big impact on her.

Do they have a go-to story in conversation? Or a joke?

Astrid - her only ‘joke’ is that she rolls her eyes constantly. in the early games when she was still too emotionally constipated to really chat with Arsenal/Heather and Bullet/Cyrus i made her roll her eyes like every 3 seconds. She doesn’t think she’s a very funny person and spent a lot of time growing up trying to focus on keeping herself fed/safe so she feels awkward trying to crack jokes + has a (correct) feeling that most of her ‘stories’ from her teenage years would horrify Heather and Cyrus

Frankie - she’s been very cagey about details about her personal life in-game, but I am very excited for her to tell the story about when a horse kicked her and broke 3 ribs when she was like 8

Could they be considered lazy?

Astrid - definitely not. this girl would not know how to relax if you paid her

Frankie - if she’s stoned? yes. (she self medicates)

How hard is it for them to shake a sense of guilt?

Astrid - hard, but she also doesn’t seek validation from other people. A pep talk from her two favorite work parents would probably go a long way (which is probably a small reason why she doesn’t ask for that from them, since she’s a little self-punishing)

Frankie - easy enough throughout the day when she’s busy, but feelings like that tend to come for you when things get quiet

How do they treat the things their friends come to them excited about? Are they supportive?

Astrid - not used to people coming to her bc they’re excited, usually ppl come to her w/ Problems, but she’d be very supportive, if a bit awkward

Frankie - VERy supportive, 10/10, will get extremely invested for your sake

Do they actively seek romance, or do they wait for it to fall into their lap?

Astrid - she sought it out with her ex Charlie, initially, when they were teenagers, and has been kind of closed off ever since, aside from the occasional one night stand here and there. Even those, she waits for it, though. Having your ex kick you out and try to hurt you does a number on the ol’ self esteem. She’s not really interested in romance currently

Frankie - doesn’t seek it out at all except in a purely sexual context when she’s bored (w/ others strictly looking for the same) bc she doesn’t feel like she’s got enough time left to give to someone right now. Also, genuinely, she’s got some self esteem issues as well and can’t fathom someone wanting her for more than just one night

Do they have a system for remembering names, long lists of numbers, things that need to go in a certain order (like anagrams, putting things to melodies, etc)?

Astrid - nope, not at all. If she did she would have gotten a lot better grades in middle school/early high school (she dropped out like freshman year)

Frankie - she just writes everything down in a notebook

What memory do they revisit the most often?

Astrid - the night that Charlie told her to get lost and then tried to kill her. She hasn’t come to terms with it yet.

Frankie - the last time she saw her parents. When her dad lost his temper and said “If you’re gonna walk out that door then don’t come back” and she, in all of her 18 year old stubbornness, followed directions to the letter. She had a good relationship w/ her dad, they’re both just stubborn and stupid. she wishes she could have repaired things sooner

How easy is it for them to ignore flaws in other people?

Astrid - extremely easy, she doesn’t exactly see herself as having a leg to stand on.

Frankie - easy, everyone fucks up, she’s more interested in communication and willingness to make things better than she is in perfection

How sensitive are they to their own flaws?

Astrid - EXTREMELY sensitive

Frankie - fairly sensitive, she’s very self aware of her shortcomings but stays quiet about them since most of them are really only apparent to her

How do they feel about children?

Astrid - loves kids, terminal big sis syndrome. will never want her own bc she’s terrified of fucking up and thinks she would make a bad mom

Frankie - likes kids, once again doesn’t rlly think about them as being a possibility for her. When she’s cured and ready to start considering a future (the gm isn’t gonna kill her i trust her too much we’re just in this for the angst) i think she’ll really want children, she’d consider it a privilege to raise a child. Also she’d be the perfect dad joke lesbian

How badly do they want to reach their end goal?

Astrid - she went from a lonely thief to a superhero being slowly reunited w/ her family, plus she’s made a new kind of family in the process. All she wants is to find her baby brother right now, and she’ll do anything to make sure he’s safe and sound.

Frankie - so bad it hurts. what started out as her being purely scared of dying has also quickly turned into her wanting to live and stay more with these people she’s met.

If someone asked them to explain their sexuality, how would they do so?

Astrid - “Girls.”

Frankie - “Haha, why, you interested? *winks*” (but also lesbian as well)

#oc singularity #thats my tag for astrid bc its her superhero name (shes got gravity powers)#oc frankie #asks #txchallas #WOO that was fun thank u!!!!

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