#and his weird younger brother pebble

[evilautismcrusades]

The Trials and Tribulations of the Jebble Sculpture

Once upon a six hours ago, I had a dream. It was a dream of creativity, of beauty, and of my beloved insane jester. It was a dream of cherishing him, a wish to hold him in my hands.

I didn't yet have access to getting my grubby mitts on an official Jebble talking plush, but what I did have was clay.

My first attempt begun smoothly. I had forgotten at the time that I owned oven-bake Sculpey polymer clay, and as such I used the more obscure Sculpey air-dry clay for my creation. I worked slowly, tediously carving each and every silly detail into his goofy round face, delicately attaching the pupils to his eyes and the ears to his head.

Working slowly was my mistake.

As I soon realized the fate to befall him, I began to panic, hastily kneading bits and pieces of clay in an attempt to finish forming him before he became too solid to work with. My efforts were for naught; in fact, in my rush to put on his features, he began falling apart, his features now messy and his body covered with divots from my nails. It was too late for him. There was nothing within my abilities that I could do to save him.

Thus, I had to make the difficult choice to abandon him. He sat on my dresser overnight and, in the morning, was as hard as plastic. His strained expression demonstrates his eternal misery, having to live with a half-finished body, wearing a half-finished outfit, covered in dirt and cat hair from the stickiness of the clay, but alas, there was nothing to be done.

This is how Pebble was born.

I wasn't satisfied with the outcome of my efforts. All this time spent on a dud, and for what? To leave him to sit barely right of my keyboard, forever gazing into my soul?

No. I had to try again.

That moment was when I realized how to do Jebble justice. I dug through my drawers, moving aside long forgotten craft books and papers, and pulled out my old box of Sculpey oven-bake clay.

When I say old, I mean old. I'd had this clay since four, maybe five Christmases ago, and that didn't make working with the already tough material any easier on my hands. It was dense, crumbly, and disheveled.

By some miracle from Toby Fox himself, I managed to make it work. Using the same original formula I had for Pebble, albeit at a slightly larger scale, I began sculpting. Two balls, one on top of the other.

The further I progressed, the more hopeful I became, but I tried to keep my expectations low. I hadn't sculpted anything since I was eleven, and most of my memories of it were the sadness that accompanied my beautiful pieces breaking.

And yet, I couldn't help but think he was turning out splendidly for my first time in so long. Even if his gums looked unnatural, and he had no bottom teeth, and he was currently little more than a slightly detailed head atop a sphere, he was beautiful. Surely nothing could go wrong...

I worked on him more and more throughout the evening as I binge watched Matt Rose and Jeaney Collects videos, often looking back at his ingame sprite for reference. He wasn't perfectly accurate, quite stylized in fact, but what did it matter? I loved him all the same.

It was here I realized I would have to make some further stylistic changes to his design, both for his own safety and for my own convenience. I knew from my own experiences that Sculpey's oven-bake clay could be fragile, especially without glaze (which I didn't have) or an internal wireframe (I did have crafting wire, but nothing to cut it with, so he unfortunately went without any). If I wanted to keep him for longer than a month in a house with my clumsy self and a cat who loves to knock things over, he would have to be optimized.

So, such changes were made. I decided to skip out on giving him arms, for the amusing rotund aesthetic it provided and to minimize the parts on him that could break. His legs would be simplified and his body would simply be placed directly atop his shoes. Black paint would be used to add the illusion of shorts. His tail would be made short and thick, curled closely to his body so nothing poked out too much. His ears and the bells of his hat were his only particular weak spots, but they looked nice as they were and couldn't be modified too much without rendering them unrecognizable.

He was still fugly, but it was a start.

I then would hit another roadblock: his collar. At first, it's quite difficult to distinguish just what it is based on looking at his sprite, and his other official depictions don't make it any easier; on the official Jebble plush, he dons the typical scrunchie-like poofy collar, but on the rest of the merchandise, including shirts and posters, it's more flower-shaped, for lack of a better word.

Personally, I am on the side of Jebble fanartists who portray him with the former, but I was quick to choose the latter for my sculpture for the sake of my own sanity; delicately folding all those ruffles would have been painful, and making and attaching a bunch of little triangles was infinitely easier.

Thus, this was his final design. Simple, skrunkly, and round.

Here's him fresh out of the oven, lightly toasted and ready to eat paint.

Getting paint to match his colors was quite an experience, helping me to remember just how blue he is canonically, despite how often he is depicted as purple. I, too, am guilty of making his blues warmer than they are, but what can a guy do? It looks good with the yellow and green.

Regardless, I wanted to stick to the canon colors for him, so I dug up my old bag of paints and mixed them up. Painting him went quite smoothly, and he was almost finished, but then...

One minute, I was holding him with confidence, taking care not to touch any of his still-wet paint as I added slightly darker shades of blue to his face.

The next, he had fallen face-first onto my desk with a loud thud.

My heart was broken, and yet it was still racing in my chest as I internally hoped that nothing had fallen off of him, that none of his paint had been smudged in my panic to pick him up, but even then I knew hoping was worthless. In this horrific accident, he had lost a good chunk of his right ear and one of the bells from his hat. How could I let this happen to him? How could I let my confidence do this to my beloved boy?

I didn't have glue to repair him, and for a moment I sat there on the brink of tears. All of my efforts really were for nothing after all. I'd might as well hit him with a hammer so he wouldn't have to suffer the same fate as Pebble.

Somehow, through the fog of desperation and sorrow, an idea came to my mind. I still had the pieces that had broken off, and maybe, just maybe, I could reattach them with the air-dry clay.

I stuck small blobs of it to the places that had broken and squished them tightly together, then smoothed out the edges to somewhat blend it in with the rest of the clay.

Thank the stars it (mostly) worked. The bell that had fallen off was too small to reattach, and had to be remade entirely from the air-dry clay, but it worked. He was fixed.

Recovery was a longer journey for him than it was for me, but thankfully he had his beloved hubby and weird brother to comfort him in these trying times.

He even got to wear Spamton's jacket, which was somehow simultaneously too big and too small for him, and he wound up looking like he was T-posing.

But after all this, once his repairs were dry, I repainted him and he was finally finished.

Behold him in all of his demented gremlin grace.

To top it all off, here's a doodle of him happy and recovered. <3

#deltarune #jevil #spamvil #spamvil isnt at all the focus of the post but tis mentioned so i thought id tag it for ppl who cant stand the ship #i am a tumblr newbie im sorry if this is reprehensible behavior #clay sculpting #sculpey #jevil deltarune #and his weird younger brother pebble #we dont talk about him

[corrodedcoffins-blog]

So American

masterlist

note: if i ever stop writing nonsense outros... check up on me

warnings: suggestive (sex jokes)

word count: 1.5 k

♡ summary: Y/n invites her brothers and her boyfriend to one of her concerts

♡ Nico Hischier x Hughes!singer!reader

request ✗

It was night one in Michigan, which meant the whole family was here, for the first time. Of course they’ve all seen her perform before but never together, Ellen was the most outspoken about her excitement in seeing her baby girl with the family, but she knew everyone else was just as excited too.

But as the opening piano played, the soft melody as the woman of the hour stepped out, singing the first verse before the lights begin flashing purple and red when the beat drops.

“Forgive and I forget!!

“Forgive and I forget!!

I know my age and I act like it!

Got what you can’t resist,

I’m a perfect all-American-”

She continued the song jumping and thrashing around the stage, getting close to fans and singing the lyrics to them while they screamed them back. And when she famously changes the lyric to “perfect all-American tits!” She made sure to face away from where she knew her family and friends were sitting, though they could still see on the big screen it didn’t matter. She just didn’t want to see her brothers and parents standing next to her boyfriend while she lifted up her shirt to an area full of people.

The song faded to the next and when she finished that song, out of breath, the girl starts dragging the microphone stand to the center of the stage, “So um- my families here tonight-” The girl was cut off by the crowd cheering loudly, “-yeah, so you guys are sooo lucky to have still gotten that lyric change.” She said, chuckling, though it wasn’t a joke.

The night continued on, Y/n played songs from her album and some from her first EP, Trevor and Cole were really having the time of their life, being twins with Jack basically meant that all their friends were each other’s friends, that very thing was the cause of the relationship Jack hated most, Nico and his sister.

He loved his sister, and he knew Nico was a good guy, but something about the fact that his captain was sleeping with his sister weirded him out. He hated even more that Nico would take Y/n’s side all the time, something the girl took advantage of, she also loved to tease Jack by saying she could make him do extra laps if he pissed her off. She had Nico wrapped around her finger. Y/n had just finished singing teenage dream, a slower song that she performed sitting down on a large crescent moon, leading herself into another slow song directly after.

“I spy with my little tired eye”

Tiny as a firefly

A pebble that we picked up last July

Down deep inside your pocket

We almost forgot it

Does it ever miss Wicklow sometimes?”

Y/n had written this song during her and NIco’s first summer together, when they went to Europe, they went to stay with his family before heading on a trip around Europe, just the two of them.

-

Hand in hand, the couple walked along the water in Wicklow, they had just come from dinner and were walking back to where they were staying. Taking their time, they looked at the mountains and hilly landscape. 

Y/n rested her head on Nico’s biceps that was hidden under his jacket, her hands encompassed his own, his other hand was holding their leftovers in a to-go bag. 

Something colourful caught the younger girl’s eye as they walked, it was an earthy orange in a sea of grey. Y/n stopped abruptly, something she did a lot when they walked together. The man has started to get used to her short and easily distracted attention span.

“Look at this rock, Neeks.” He nodded, a loving smile on his face. Nico was a man of few words, it used to be something that annoyed Y/n, she thought he just plain out didn’t like her and that was why he didn’t talk much. But she’s since learned that some people just didn’t have to be talking non-stop, could never be her, but she’s grown to love that about him. And he about her non-stop chatter.

“I like it, I’m gonna keep it.” She went to put the small pebble in her pocket when she  realised her jacket had no pocket. Looking towards Nico, he already had his hand out for the rock to hold onto, she placed it in his hand that was holding the leftovers and he placed the pebble safely in his jacket pocket.

-

“On the way home

I wrote a poem

You say, ‘what a mind’

This happens all the time”

-

Nico and Y/n were driving back to their hotel in London after a date, Nico’s left hand was resting on Y/n’s thigh. Her hands were holding her phone that was open to her notes app, while she read off a poem she had just written, “-like perfume that you wear, I linger all the time, watching hidden in plain sight. What d’ya think?” 

Nico was speechless, how could someone just come up with something like that? So beautifully written, it had just come to her mind and she could perfectly write out the thought immediately? And it be that beautiful? What a mind.

“What a mind you have.” His words had made her huff out a small, “Stop it.” “No really, schatzi, it’s amazing. You always impress me with what your brain can come up with.”

What she didn’t tell him was her brain had come up with so much material from just his couple kind words.

-

When the song came to a close and Y/n stepped back onto the main stage, Jack decided to shove his captain a little to gain his attention, “Yes?” Nico said, glazing at Jack before bringing his eyes back to his girl.

“I know I act like I hate you and my sister.. But I’m really happy that you make her happy and feel safe.” Nico brought all his attention to the boy now as Y/n began ‘Talk too much’ “Thank you, Jack, it means a lot. She cares about your opinion more than she likes to admit, so that will mean a lot.” “‘Course.”

The boys were cut off by Y/n singing the chorus, “Ooh, I think I talk too much”

“At least she knows it.” Jack joked, and even though Nico loved hearing the girl talk more than anything, he laughed.

The song ended, and this was when Y/n would play a different song every night before the closing song, and most nights she would talk to the crowd and explain a bit or just talk about the song. Yet this night was different as all she said was, “This one is for all my girls who dreamed of having a foreign boyfriend!” And began singing.

“Driving on the right side road

He says I’m pretty wearing’ his clothes

And he’s got hands that make hell seem cold

Feet on the dashboard

He’s like a poem I wish I wrote

I wish I wrote!”

She wrote this one while Nico was in the shower the night he said, “What a mind” in London. Sitting at the small hotel desk, the original draft of the song was written on hotel stationary.

“And he says I’m so American

Oh god I’m gonna marry him

If he keeps this shit up!”

It only hit Nico now, that his girl was singing at the top of her lungs to an area full of people that she was going to marry him. Her family, her brothers, her friends, his family, and the rest of the world knew it. That she was going to marry him. 

When the song came to an end, Ellen and Jim left saying they were heading backstage, everyone knew it was really because Jim hates the next song. Not because it was bad or anything, just because it was his little girl.

“Think I only want one number in my phone”

It was hard for Nico to keep a smirk off his face, especially when Trevor and Cole made such a big deal at any line, they loved teasing their best friend and her boyfriend and it was even better when she wasn’t there to get mad at them. But when it got to the point where the girl sang her unique to ever show outros, the two shut up.

“How quickly can you take your clothes off?” “POP QUIZ!!!”

“He’s so cute he calls me schatzi, even better ‘cause he understands me. My brothers may not like it but I am carefree.”

That night proved she was carefree, when she and Nico spent their night in her room of the lake house, in her bed, and on the floor, and in her bathroom, mostly the shower. Luke, who shares a wall with the couple, ended up sleeping in Quinn’s room with him that night.

#nico hischier #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier x famous!reader #nico hischier x fem!reader #nico hischier x fem reader #nico hischier fic #nico hischier fluff #nico hischier fanfiction #nico hischier x hughes!sister #nico hischier x hughes!reader

[soursvgar]

Levi (is being the stan culture unofficial bf you may or may not have always wanted and) drags you to an adventure in the human world, you drag satan into this and yall end up wet ?! not clickbait

gn! reader, once again with the poly, a short fluffy fluff

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"I can't believe you talked me into this." you grumble, nestling deeper inside your thick coat. Leviathan had convinced you to accompany him on a trip to the human world because he just had to be the first to score concert tickets of his favorite human world idol girl group, and who knows better about the human world antics other than you? Albeit the adoration of your expertise in how to socialize with your own species, Leviathan had forgotten to mention one tiny detail. You had to line up outside the entrance of the store along with other fans, in minus some degrees. Something your fragile human body wasn't too used to, specifically not after spending a good couple of months in the very depths of hell.

"Hey, it's not like I'm enjoying being out of my room either. If I could do that online, I would. But their fans crashed the servers on the day of the online sale, so this is our only option." Leviathan shrugged, unbothered by the low temperatures. After all, being a supernatural entity comes with its own perks, having a hardy body is only one of many.

"Your only option." You corrected, your shivering becoming more unbearable by the hour.

"What I can't understand is-" Satan unwraps his scarf from around his neck and gently ties it to yours, supplying you with at least some degree of comfort. "What am I doing here?" He heaves a sigh, kicking a pebble on the ground. Satan was promised a delightful trip to a famous cat cafe in the area, with plenty of fuzzy felines to pamper. Not camping in the cold weather with a bunch of strangers- and Levi.

"Well... I needed a responsible adult in case Levi gets approached by a human and says something weird, or decide to attack them over polarized opinions about their favorite member of the group." You fumble with the ends of the scarf, nuzzling your face into the soft fabric.

"And you thought Satan of all demons will be your guy?" Leviathan sneers, earning an exasperated look from his younger brother.

"He was the easiest to convince... with the exception of paying Mammon, but I feel like it would've been even more chaotic with him around." The two of them look at each other and then at you, defeated. They definitely have no argument to contradict that statement. "And I did mean to go to the cat cafe! I just didn't know we will have to be standing here for hours before we can get those tickets."

And then without a warning, the deafening rolling of a thunder booms and the heavy droplets are not late to follow. The rain is pouring cats and dogs (but not literally, to Satan's disappointment), drenching the three of you from head to toe. The shop owner announces the delay of the sale, requiring the now displeased attendees to leave the premises.

"This is so unfair! Who cares about a small drizzle? I need my tickets or I will simply combust." Leviathan whines at the failed attempt.

"It looks like a big storm is approaching, we should find a shelter." Satan exclaims and grabs your arm to lead you away while Leviathan trudges behind the two of you. You pass a few full cafes before stumbling upon a small, cozy looking book cafe. "This will do!" Satan asserts, definitely without a bias. You wriggle your way inside the cafe through the crowd of umbrellas, finally able to take the soaked garment off of you.

"This might not be a cat cafe, but it has heating for our shivering human so I guess that's good enough." Satan offers you an apologetic half smile. "I'll go get us some hot tea; you find us a place to settle down."

"Well, I always thought about the human world but you know, the devildom isn't exactly the worst." You return the smile, hoping to lighten up the mood.

"I mean... a place for us to sit, y/n. But I will take note of that comment." Satan chuckles, appreciating the sentiment. You then scope your surrounding in hopes to find a vacant table, spotting a fireplace across the room. Naturally, you walk over and place your hands in front of it to regain back some of your body warmth.

In the meantime, the shadow of one particular loner is quietly following your footsteps all the way to the fireplace, waiting until the two of you are secluded from the rest- and from a certain blonde haired demon. Leviathan practically clings to your arm to stop you from advancing any further.

"Hey, aren't you forgetting something? I mean, I know it's just me and I'm not worthy of anyone's attention but... your exchange is making me feel kind of... disposable." He gushes all at once. "I'm sorry if I made it look like the tickets were more important than your health, it isn't!! not to me! it's just that I've been wanting to watch their concert for so long and since it's a human world group it's not like I can see them whenever I want- augh, my point is, I'm really sorry. Please don't be mad, you're my best friend in the whole three worlds except Henry and-"

You peek at him, his cheeks are flushing as he keeps slurring his words incoherently, obviously too nervous for his own good.

"Levi!!! calm down. I'm not mad." You respond loudly enough to halt his word vomit.

"Woah what a reli-" And before he manage to complete his sentence, you pull him close, squeezing him in a tight hug. He would blame it on the heat omitted from the fireplace, but the sole reason behind his rosy cheeks is the heat of your body enclosing on his own.

Still jittery, he pulls away when he hears a cough. Satan had returned with three cups of green tea, placing the tray in front of you.

"I see you two were having fun... are you all nice and toasty by now, y/n?" He hums, sitting near you. Despite his nonchalant attitude, you sense the pang of jealousy in his voice, knowing you'll be trapped in a sticky situation if you make the avatar of wrath angry- or the avatar of envy, envious. Most definitely if it takes place in a small cafe in the middle of the human world. You decide to act quick, switching to sit in the space between the both of them.

"Hey Satan, I'm sorry we didn't get to go to the cat cafe... but at the very least, there is a cute cat in this cafe."

"Where??" Satan looks around frantically, is it possible he had missed such a majestic creature laying around this wee lodging? Laughing, you reach your hand to tuck a loose lock of gold behind his ear, lightly scratching behind it before you place a fleeting kiss to his forehead.

"Right here."

#one day ill get better at writing endings i swear #to be honest this whole thing came together because i wanted satan to be petted like a cat and was looking for an excuse #obey me #obey me mc #obey me scenarios #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me satan #obey me leviathan

[kisskissjk]

What are BTS energies like ?

thanks for the ask! im gonna describe them like an aesthetic and then give a small description

jin-a water fountain, crisp spring air, cherry blossoms, orange slices, sweet tea

he’s very refreshing and open minded. he’s like a cute, shy, nerd.

yoongi-the smell of money, exotic plants, tiaras, a french kiss

“i’ve done it all” reminds me of a teenage older brother

jhope-stone wall, penguins, rain boots, muddy sneakers, the smell of nail polish

he’s closed off at first but once his inner child trusts you, he’s very excitable and loves talking bringing up random things. random and weird.

namjoon-golden retriever, posh british accent, humidity after a shower, grapevines

namjoon is a natural mentor. he instantly got me to relax in his presence. knows people and i would say psychology really well.

jimin-glitter, a pirate, ray of sunshine, singing in the shower

he’s a good best friend, loves to ramble, like a cute younger sibling

taehyung-warm soup, a tiger, fresh cut grass

he’s playful and tries to come across as cute but he has a fierceness to him. trickster.

jungkook-dawn soap, clean blankets, pebbles, a rain shower

he’s intense and affectionate

take NOTHING i say negatively. i love bts more than anything.

#bts tarot #jin tarot #yoongi tarot #jhope tarot #namjoon tarot #jimin tarot #taehyung tarot #jungkook tarot

[unhonest-iago]

Pebble

Inspired by this drawing

'Touya, please!' Shouto had been begging his older brother to teach him to skate, thinking Touya was so cool. His eyes beamed in admiration whenever their mom would force Touya to take Shouto with him. Skating at a slow pace so that Shouto could keep up when walking. 'Fine, go get dressed. But if you get hurt, you can't go crying to mom, okay?' Nodding, he ran upstairs while Touya tied his beaten up converse. A fanny pack filled with band-aids, knowing his younger brother would break his promise. Not that he minded, he truly loved Shouto but he couldn't understand why he looked up to him. A question he planned to ask when they were both older. One that he'd never get to ask.

'Why aren't we going to the skate park?' Shouto felt weird not following the familiar routine he'd fallen into with Touya. 'Because that's not the best place for little novices like you. But you'll get there.' Touya had taken Shouto to the supermarket parking lot. 'You remember that god awful surfing movie dad had us watch?'

'Yea, what about it?' None of the Todoroki siblings paid full attention to it, as it'd just become another extension of the awful man that was their father. But it was good reference material for explaining. 'The part where they were practicing getting on the board and falling off in the sand—we're going to be doing that but the grass is our sand. Make sure your stance is good before letting you go off on your own.' Placing his board in front of Shouto's, he got on. 'You're gonna put your left foot forward, right foot behind it. Gonna want both of them angled a little bit outward.' Giving Shouto his hands to use for balance while he clumsily put his feet where Touya directed. 'Alright, I'm gonna let go of your hands.' Touya having him practice pushing off with his right foot before finally deciding he was ready.

Touya took this opportunity to show Shouto around the neighborhood, the boy never focusing on anything for too long. All going well until Shouto’s skateboard hit a pebble. ‘OW!’ And here come the waterworks. Stopping the board before it went out of range, Touya hopped off, crouching to Shouto’s level. ‘Hey, it’s just a small scrap. Nothing too gnarly.’ Shouto letting out a watery laugh when he mimicked that same shitty movie. ‘How do you deal with this?’ Touya acted as if he was deep in thought so he could pull out the band-aids he’d brought with him. ‘Good choice. But to answer your question, you brush it off and get back on. Wasn’t lying when I said it wasn’t too bad.’ Shouto had picked a Hello Kitty band-aid over a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle one.

Squeezing his hand, Touya gave Shouto a piggyback ride back home. The boy sound asleep atop his older brother’s blankets. ‘Sweet dreams, pebble,’ Touya whispered before placing the board back in his closet.

#iago writes #not x reader #not a ship #bnha #mha #my hero academia #bnha todoroki #bnha dabi #mha todoroki #mha dabi #shouto todoroki #touya todoroki #todoroki siblings

[garbageforyou]

Me with Fanon Saeran: Aww, he’s so cute and sweet! I love him and will protect him and bring him flowers and ice cream everyday.

Me with Canon Saeran: I’m literally terrified and I will have nightmares if he shows up and gives me a bad ending. 

But like, when I played this when I was younger (too young to play honestly) I had no idea there were bad endings! So of course the day 5 bad ending shows up and there’s the creepy “We’re Machines” chatroom in the middle of the night, so I’m like “that’s weird.” Here enters Unknown and his creepy theme and it FREAKED me out! I uninstalled it, I never looked back, I couldn’t sleep that night, all because of this gothic fruity pebbles man.

Now, I love Unknown, he’s my favorite Saeran cause he’s such a good villain. The more you dive into his background, the better he gets. Because you understand why he’s the way he is. His brother abandoned him and it led to people (*loud coughing* Rika) taking advantage of him, which of course we know that Seven was also taken advantage of (*loud coughing* V), but it still doesn’t change that Seven LEFT. No matter his good intentions or that Seven was told this would be better for Saeran, Seven still made the choice to leave his brother. So we as the players are like “I totally get why you’re all big and bad, support you boo, but also you can do better than this.” 

Saeran is just such a fun character and all his themes are such BOPS! (Yes even the scary one, I get so excited when I hear it and he shows up.) So yeah, my childhood nightmare went to my adulthood's hunky red flag, and that is the funniest thing to me

#mystic messenger #mystic messenger 707 #saeran route #mysme saeran #mysme unknown

[mychemicalrachel]

i just saw the behind the scenes fic asks but!! 30, 12, and 18!

Honestly that's my bad for reblogging an ask game on Christmas Eve and expecting anyone to see. Thanks so much for asking!!! 💕

[Behind the Scenes writer asks]

30. Tell us an idea for a longfic you want to write in the future.

Oooh, well I was thinking recently about the potential of a Rovinsky fic where Niall and Aurora are still alive and Ronan starts seeing Kavinsky. I want to deal with Ronan's coming out, Kavinsky's influence on him, how Ronan's parents perceive their relationship, them getting to know and accept Kavinsky. I don't know if I'll ever get around to actually writing it, but I think it would be fun!

12. Is there a trope you haven’t written yet but really want to?

So many!! So so many!!! Time travel is probably top of the list, I love time travel fics. The only reason I haven't yet is because I get too caught up in the semantics, figuring out the miniscule details of how time travel works and the effects it has, the things it changes, etc… Daydreaming about a time travel fic is easier than executing it.

18. What is a line/scene you’re really proud of? Give us the DVD commentary for that scene.

I love this question so much. This is gonna be a kinda long answer but you literally asked for it, so 🤷

So the part I’m gonna ramble about right now isn’t actually one scene, but two different chapters in Magnetic that have a lot of really clear parallels and I don’t think enough people noticed it, so I need to talk about it.

It all kind of starts with this scene outside the church in Chapter 34, after Ronan decides to get sober and breaks up with Kavinsky;

Matthew's gaze bounced between Ronan and Declan and he kicked a pebble, watching it skitter into the road, then he settled that frown on Ronan and asked, “Is it drugs?” "Yeah, Matthew,” he said, “it’s drugs.” Matthew nodded. He had expected as much and his stoicism didn’t falter. “Is that why he’s here?” It’s a wonder they had missed it before, following Matthew’s glower to where the Mitsubishi was parked across the street. Sat on top of the hood, just watching, waiting, was Kavinsky. He was a statue like the one of Mary inside the nave, unwavering and stonelike, an observer to the Lynch family drama. “I thought you said you broke up with him,” Declan said. “I did.” “Well does he know that?” Ronan couldn’t take his eyes off Kavinsky. The church reflected in his white sunglasses-- a massive, grandiose edifice like staring into the depths of whatever soul he had left-- and it was odd to see the things he’d once worshipped together like that; two fragmented gods. Now they both lacked any sort of appeal.

It’s not noticeable until way later, but it’s a direct parallel to the flashback scene in Chapter 55 when Ronan talks about when Kavinsky outed him to his brothers;

“It was after Mass,” Ronan said. “K and I had only been together a few weeks and it was still new and weird. We were figuring it out. But I came out of church one day and he was there.” Ronan could imagine it; Kavinsky lounging against the side of the BMW, cigarette between his fingers, those soulless white sunglasses in place. He was stunning and for a moment Ronan could only watch, mesmerized. Kavinsky would stop anyone in their tracks. He had that effect on people and Ronan was far from immune. “Declan saw him leaning against my car– our dad’s car– and he got all pissy, first at Kavinsky, then at me.” “You’re hanging out with junkies now?” Declan demanded. “Ronan, this isn’t like you–” “Fuck you, you don’t know anything about me.” Which was stupid. There was a time when Declan knew him better than anyone. Only he didn’t. Not really. Not anymore. “Lynch!” All three brothers looked up. Kavinsky grinned. “Who’s that?” Matthew had asked. “Nobody,” Declan said, and then, “Ronan.” His name was a warning, a caution, a swear. Kavinsky pushed away from the car, sauntered their way. “Older Lynch,” he greeted Declan, then Matthew, “Younger Lynch,” and then Ronan, “Sweetheart.” There was a terrifying second when he leaned in to press his lips to Ronan’s and it felt as though he short circuited, shocked and electric, frozen in place. It was over quick, a fleeting kiss, chaste even, but it replayed over and over again in Ronan’s head. An endless loop. Kavinsky kissed him. Kavinsky kissed him in front of his brothers. And just like that, Ronan’s worlds collided.

It's basically the beginning and end of Ronan and Kavinsky's relationship. And it’s SO IMPORTANT because it shows the ways Ronan has changed. In the flashback scene, he left with Kavinsky, but in Chapter 34 he actively decides to ignore Kavinsky. It shows how he went from consistently choosing his relationship with Kavinsky over the relationship with his brothers and how he’s finally choosing to be honest with his brothers and making the decision to leave Kavinsky behind.

Then there’s this part in Chapter 55 when Ronan is talking about the anniversary of his parents’ death and how he handled it;

“I didn’t want to be alone,” Ronan said, “but I didn’t want to be with my brothers either. K and I spent most of the day out at the fairgrounds, same way we used to. Making out, drinking. But I needed… more. I couldn’t close my eyes without seeing my parents. I couldn’t stop thinking about them. Like,” he shifted forward, pulled his legs up onto the couch with him, trying to make himself smaller, “what would I be doing right now if they hadn’t died? And instead of being at tennis practice or going to the movies or cooking dinner with my mom, I was having drunk sex in the backseat of my dad’s car. I was fucking mad. At my dad, and my mom, and Declan, and Kavinsky, and myself. You know that phrase, blood boiling? That’s what it felt like. It was like I was feeling so much and I just– I needed to let it out.” “Through sex?” “When that wasn’t enough, I started a fight. I don’t even remember what I said to him, but I kept shoving him. I knew if I pushed him far enough, he would snap and I just wanted him to hit me... He was usually easy to piss off, but I trusted him. He wouldn’t hurt me more than I could handle. But he didn’t hit me. He kind of just… shut down. He went blank. And he left.”

And the parallel in Chapter 34, after Ronan broke up with Kavinsky, after he fought with Declan, he was upset and uncertain how to deal with his feelings, so he tried to do the same thing by kissing Adam and then, when that didn't work, starting a fight;

“I’m not fucking drunk,” Ronan snapped. “I’m sober. I mean, I’m getting there. Withdrawals are a bitch, but I just-- fuck, I need this, Adam.” Catching Adam’s lips again proved more difficult this time as Adam saw it coming and he barely managed to reach him when Adam was pushing him away again, standing up. The suddenly empty space next to him immediately felt cold. “Ronan!” Adam said and it sounded like an exclamation, like help or stop. It chilled Ronan to the bones. The warmth from before was gone. “You can’t do that. You can’t just show up here and kiss me like that. I don’t--” “Don’t say you don’t want this,” Ronan interrupted. He stood too and hated the way Adam stepped away. “We both know that’s bullshit. You wanted me to kiss you.” Adam had wanted it nearly as long as he had, maybe longer. He’d said it himself. But the furrow in his brow deepened. His jaw worked and, shaking his head sadly, he said, “Not like this.” “It’s not like that, Parrish,” Ronan said. “You know I care about you.” “I know,” Adam said. “I just think you should go. We can talk about this later.” “Adam,” Ronan said, a question and a plea wrapped into one simple word. He reached out and saw Adam pull away, felt it like Adam was ripping away one of his own limbs. “I wouldn’t hurt you.” “I know.” “Adam,” Ronan said again. “Please. I’m sorry.” “I know,” Adam said. “Shit, Adam, say something else,” Ronan pleaded. "Yell at me. Tell me an asshole. Tell me you didn’t want me to kiss you. For once in your goddamn life, Adam, stand up for yourself.” When Adam’s tongue flicked across his lower lip, Ronan wondered if he tasted him there. “I don’t want to fight,” he finally said. But Ronan did. He wanted to fight because fighting was easy, mindless and numbing. It was hard to feel pain when anger was overwhelming. “You need to leave.”

These two scenes are so good. It not only shows the similarities between how Ronan treats both Kavinsky and Adam when he's distressed (side note; I’ve gotten comments about how Kavinsky is abusive (we all know that) but nobody wants to acknowledge that Ronan is also abusive and this paints a really good picture of how he uses Kavinsky and, in this case, Adam, for his own benefit without considering how it affects them and that is another whole post, but I won't go into that right now) but it also shows the comparisons in how Adam and Kavinsky reacted to it. In both scenes, Adam and Kavinsky chose not to indulge in the fighting, they walked away. When Kavinsky turned him down, that was the first time Ronan tried to commit suicide. And when Adam turned him down, Ronan went back to Kavinsky which is essentially a metaphor for suicide because he’s reverting back to his old self.

#thanks so much for asking #❤️❤️❤️❤️ #Magnetic #pynch #rovinsky #ask game #there are actually so many good parallels in Magnetic #and i could talk about them forever

[julyzaa]

This is what i had written before my mom told me tenoch huerta sorta looks like one of her younger brothers when he was in his 30s

Cw: refrenced suicide, possible murder

Pilar holds the little space pebble close to her heart. It had been a tiny meteorite that fell in the ranch once owned by her grandparents in Morelos. Her mother had inherited it from her mother and given it to her at her fifteenth birthday.

This she had inherited with the family business of taking tourists to where the asteroid that killed the dinosaurs fell off the coast of Yucatan.

Well, that and occasionally picking up or delivering extra passengers ---and occasionally drugs--- because that was the deal they had with the local cartel.

Rafael Senior had met and knocked up her mother, Alma, though his work, they tried to make it work but Pili’s mom had her life in America and when she learned of this deal he had with the cartel, she took Rafa and Pilar and left.

Now with Rafa gone, her father too sick to work, it fell on Pilar ‘Pili’ Rosales to take over the Marimar and keep things going.

Difficult thing because only sleezy men, weird scientists and drunk people who wanted a tour of the exact coordinates where the asteroid had hit.

The meteorite she wore was the key to that. It resonated as if it were coming home whenever you got near it.

But something had driven Rafa to jump off the boat last year. He had the second half of the necklace; he hadn’t been wearing it when the rescue team found his body.

So now, whenever she has time, Pili goes through his notes and tries to crack the mystery of the meteorite.

The people of Wakanda claimed vibranium only existed where they lived, but how can you explain that the asteroid that fell in Yucatan has its same properties?

How can you explain that the tiny pieces that fell in some forgotten ranch in Morelos were also of the same metal?

The metal vibrates against her chest and it feels louder than her heart beat as she goes forward to the place calling to the stone on her neck.

“You should stop.” A voice says in the dark.

Unsurprisingly the voice emanating from the ruins of Mayan civilization speaks Spanish. Typical of the Spanish to thoroughly infect the places they took over.

“Are you going to kill me like you killed my brother?” she asks the voice.

“I didn’t kill your brother.” The voice leaves the ocean and gets into the little cabin cruiser Rafa had bought for personal trips. Said he wanted to live in it, little did he know he was going to jump off it.

“Then who did it, are you not the God Chaac? Or do you prefer Tlaloc?” she asks turning around.

Her father said the Mayan God of Rain lived here, he had seen him once, with wings on his feet and decked out like an emperor of old.

But mother said it was the Aztec God, Tlaloc, and that they stood in his realm, Tlalocan.

“I am both, and neither. My enemies call me Namor.” He says as she turns.

“What do your friends call you?” she asks and takes in the sight of the water god.

“You first.” He smiles in amusement and reaches out for the necklace she wears.

“Pilar, everyone calls me Pili.” She says as she slaps his hand away.

#oc fanfiction #mcu namor #namor x oc #mexican!oc #oc: Pilar Rosales Garcia

[spideyspeaches]

Gorgeous ↬ b.b

A/N: Props to @thefallenbibliophilequote​ for getting me into bucky XD (fic lowkey based on Taylor Swift’s Gorgeous.)

Warnings: smut :) very smut and nudity.

MINORS DNI

WC: 2.5k+

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Peter Parker & Reader (Platonic)

Masterlist || Taglist 

“Do you think he has a girlfriend?” You asked, sipping at the fairly bitter beer in your hand. Looking over your shoulder, you sighed, slumping on the counter of the bar you were in.  

You had been dragged along with your neighbour- Peter Parker, also known as the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man, to a club right after an Avengers mission. You were no avenger, just a run in the mill overworked and underpaid preschool teacher. 

It had become customary for you to tag along with him to bars with the other Avengers, after you had discovered about his spidery abilities. You had always been close to him, he was your brother in everything but blood. You were after all, his bonafide babysitter/best friend. 

The others in his team had accepted you with open arms, a weird bond forming between you and them, accepting you as more than "Peter's hot neighbour" and more like a part of their team. 

One particular person seemed to have caught your eye. 

Cranking your neck to see his slumped figure, you smirked at his back, eyes tracing his broad shoulders and newly buzz cut hair. You hadn’t talked to him much, but from when you had, you found him to be very sweet. He was shy, rarely spoke and always in his own shell, cheeks rosy pink whenever you conversed. So different from what the media portrayed him as that you found it utterly confusing that such a man could be brainwashed and used as a murder machine. 

Your heart ached for him, for how misunderstood he was among the antis. You just wanted to hug the man and give him one big forehead smooch. But, oh were you brought back to reality with a hit that you couldn’t really do that without looking creepy.

"Who? Bucky?" Peter smirked, interrupting you from looking at him. Your willed your heart to stop racing and plummeting in your stomach. 

“I thought his name was James?” You said, tilting your head in confusion. From what you had read in a source, his name was James Buchanan Barnes-

“Yeah but Steve calls him Bucky, so everyone does too.”

“Oh, Bucky. Has a nice ring to it.” You nodded, ignoring his smug expression, “answer my question though. I’m not gonna hit on him if he already has a girlfriend. Wouldn’t be surprised if he did.” You grumbled the next part, trying to ignore the flare of jealousy you felt in your chest.

Peter had made it very apparent to you that he was fully aware of your humongous crush on the winter soldier. And that little shit never let go of it, even when you weren't anywhere near the vicinity of said winter soldier. 

"Why do you think I would know?" He scoffed, going back to sipping his own bottle of beer. Scowling at him, you opened your mouth, inhaling sharply. 

"I don't know, cause you practically live there?" You shrugged, trying to feign indifference. You knew he looked right through it, if his shit eating grin and flushed cheeks were anything if not confirmation. 

"Bold of you to assume he even talks to me. And anyway, he hates my guts, him and Sam always prank me, it's practically a routine." He said, rolling his eyes, swirling his bottle lazily, "why do you want to know that anyway?" 

"You know why." You hissed. Turning around, your breath hitched when you saw him staring at You, wondering if he was just staring at your general direction and if you were going to embarrass yourself by waving at him. 

Apparently he was looking at you, because you swore saw a tiny wave coming at your direction, a small smile playing on his face. 

“And what if he did?”

“What is it to you, kiddo?”

"You both disgust me. Bucky with his constant questions about you and you with your constant questions about him" Peter muttered sarcastically. Ignoring him, you sighed dreaming, slumping on the barstool, "don't you already have a boyfriend anyway?" 

“And what about him?” You grumbled, rolling your eyes at the mention of him. He was hardly a boyfriend, more of a fling, an excuse to stop the pain of being single (you were dramatic, you knew). You were over him, broken up not long ago, but Peter didn’t need to know that. You wouldn’t want Peter siccing himself at your worst enemies.

“What I know is that he’s one son of a bitch who doesn’t deserve to be anywhere near you. Why are you dating him again?” Peter said, snapping you out of your daze.

“Do you kiss your girlfriend’s pussy with that mouth?” You scowled, huffing pettily.

“I’m sorry, who’s girlfriend’s what?” Tony said, appearing out of thin air, his mouth hung as he gaped at you and Peter. You snickered at Peter’s flushed and stuttering form, counting that as one win tonight. 

“My girlfriend’s lips. Y/N’s stuttering cause she’s too busy staring at Bucky.” Peter said, fixing you with a look, his head tilted adorably, jaw clenched like the way it did when he was done with your bullshit.

“Hey I’m not staring at him! He’s just so gorgeous- look at him!” You giggled, watching him stumble from his stool, the alcohol in your veins making you braver than before. You had endured more than one round of teasing from the team about your very obvious crush on one Bucky Barnes, yet you went on with your babbling.

“Yeah yeah, you’ve said what what- oh a million times before!” Peter shrieked, hands up in the air, nearly dropping his bottle. Snatching his bottle, you drowned the remaining liquid, dropping it on the counter with a scow, “are you even old enough to drink?”

“Hey! Let me tell you, I’m turning twenty one in a week, or did you forget?” He said, ignoring Tony, who was shaking his head and grumbling something about being too old for this shit.

“Of course I didn’t forget kiddo.” You said, smiling sadly at him, ruffling his messy brown hair. Ever since you met him, you always loved playing with his hair. They were fluffy, just like your cat’s, “Who allowed you to grow up so fast?” 

“Y/n/n! I’m only four years younger than you!”

“Ugh don’t remind me.” It still iffed you to no end that the boy who was once nine years younger than you was now 4 years younger, nevermind that he was mature much beyond his age. Mind briefly averted from one Winter Soldier, you didn’t notice him sit down next to you, startled when he called for you. You didn’t even notice Peter giving you a look before Tony dragged him somewhere.

“Hey, you’re Y/n right? Peter’s-” He started, your brain short circuiting when you saw his piercing blue eyes- the most beautiful shade of blue you had ever seen, staring at you, a small smirk playing on his stubbled jaw. You gulped internally, clearing your throat and sitting straight.

“Neighbour? Yes that’s me.” You nodded enthusiastically, smiling as much as you could without cringing at your ecstatic behaviour. 

“I know.”

“Cool.” 

Shuffling in your seat, you opened your mouth to speak, only for him to speak before both of you were interrupted by your laughter. Getting yourself together, you gestured for him to talk, “go ahead.”

“So, should I buy you a drink?”

“Only if you let me buy you one.” 

And that’s how it started. One drink turned to another, and next thing you knew you were kissing him, his hands in your hair, the cold of his metal arm placed firmly on your bare waist as he bunched your t-shirt up in a fist.

For a moment you weren’t aware of your surroundings, the only thing you could feel was his t-shirt fisted in your hands, his freezing palm causing an eruption of goosebumps on your skin as the cold air of the room hit you full force. Panting, you scrambled for the door, holding his hands in the darkened room as you followed him blindly.

Crashing your lips to his once again, you moan under your breath, chest hitching as you scrambled for your shirt and bra, pulling it over your head as you watched him do the same, smirking at the very apparent bulge on his blue jeans. 

“Do you have a condom? You panted, tracing his biceps with your nails as you pulled him so that you were chest to chest, your nipples hardening as your bare chests made contact. You could feel your pussy throbbing, groaning at your already growing lady boner, the place between your thighs slick with wetness.

“In my pocket.” He answered, lifting you up as you wrapped your legs around him, throwing you on the bed with questionable stains. You moaned as he dropped his weight on you, his hands burning flames on your skin as he traced patterns on your bare arms, kissing you with a vigor. 

Your hands reached for his jeans pocket, fumbling to find the packet of condom while he traced his lips on your neck, nibbling at the curve of your shoulder, making you shudder with excitement.

“Are you sure you-”

“Yes. I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

“Whatever you say doll.” 

Your stomach coiled when he called you that, groaning in pleasure as he roughed you up with his hands, his jeans sliding off, leaving his bare thighs barely visible to your eye. His eyes were somehow still illuminated in the dark room, leaving you even more wet than before. You never knew his eyes could turn you on so much that he made you come even before he could slide inside you.

Thrusting your hips, you watched impatiently as he slid the condom on his hardened dick, asking you for permission once more before sliding into you, his hips thumping with yours as he gradually increased his pace, hitting your spot.

“You’re so beautiful, so pretty under me. Perfect little wet pussy you got there doll.” He whispered, closing his eyes as you continued to run your fingers through his hair, holding onto his back with one of your hands, nails digging into his flesh, unable to form any words.

“I’m close.” You moaned, rolling your hips with his as he continued to move, panting, one hand on the headboard and the other on your boobs, keeping you firmly planted on the shitty pub mattress as he kneaded the soft skin, the brush of his fingers on your pebbled nipple your last straw as you finally gave into your climax.

“You good?” He asked, his dick still inside you as you came all over him. Sliding out, you lay on the dirty sheets, your bare body shivering with the excessive hormones that took over you, realising that you had just fucked James Buchanan Barnes. 

“Yeah, I’m good, Great. Amazing. Wow I can’t believe this happened.” You said, holding the thin sheet up to your chest as you saw him in the dim lights. His chest was glistening with sweat, his hair stuck to his forehead as you saw him discard the condom in a bin. Biting your lip, you tried not to stare at his bare ass, clenching your thighs. 

He gave you a friendly smirk when he caught you, thankful for the dark room, for you couldn’t stand him looking at your burning cheeks. 

“You know you can look right?” He smiled, holding your cheek in his cold palm, your own palms sweating as he straddled you, his frame encompassing yours as he towered over you, your thighs already pulsing, begging for a round two as-

“Oh, oh jesus you have nice fingers.” You giggled as he inserted his two fingers in your pulsing core, jerking your hips as he navigated through your slick folds. 

“It’s actually Bucky, but Jesus would do too.” He said, silencing you with another kiss. He gave a throaty growl as you kissed him harder, slicking back his hair with one hand, scratching at his scalp with your nails. Smirking under the kiss, you continued to do so until he increased his pace, your throbbing core giving in to the stimuli.

It was somehow easy for you to forget that the man you barely knew had made you come twice in the same night.

“Do you- do you want to go out sometime? Preferably without that Parker kid trailing behind you like a puppy?” Bucky huffed, ceasing his movement to look at you, your mouth open, wiping the smudged lipstick with a finger. 

“Aw he has good intentions.” You smiled, licking your lips teasingly as he rolled his eyes, “admit it he’s a good kid.”

“Are you really talking about Parker while I’m fingering you?”

“What? Ew. No, just, he thinks you hate him.” You giggled, shifting on the sheets a little to release your straining pelvis from cramping. 

“I don’t hate him, he’s a good kid, but he’s also a little shit at times.” He said, a fond look in his eyes. Your heart clenched at his expression, slowly pulling out of his grasp as you flopped on the bed, turning and looking at him. 

“He do be like that sometimes. But to answer your question, yes I would love to go on a date with you.” You smiled, burying your nose in his neck, not even caring that some drunk people might walk in on you two. No one had so far, so you didn’t really care.

To say that you were whipped would be an understatement. You started visiting the compound more often, came to movie nights, spent more time with everyone (especially him). 

“No!” You laughed, giggling as he picked you up bridal style, “Bucky! Jeez put me down right this instant or I’ll stick fridge magnets on you!”

You were instantly dropped on your feet, sighing when you felt his arms circle your waist, pulling your back to his chest. The tower was empty, everyone going back to their respective workplaces. It was only the two of you. You could hear him hum under his breath.

“Fridge magnet? Are they those sticky things that stick on fridges?”

“Yes Bucky, that’s exactly what they are. I thought they existed in the 20s?” You scoffed, turning around, falling on his firm chest. Circling your hands around his waist, you pondered at how close you had gotten with him in just a few days. Heck, every time you visited, it felt like you were just growing closer, until you felt your relationship tying in a tight knot. With a snap, you realised that your life might as well be in ruins was he not yours at this moment. 

“Only rich people had them.”

Maybe you were going overboard with your feelings, maybe you were rushing things, but you didn’t mind. Getting close to people wasn’t always your strongest suit, but with this man, you didn’t mind having silent conversations. Until you could feel his fingers on every inch of your being. 

With your heart thudding in your chest, you realised that you could spend your entire life tightening the knot of your heart with his, listen to him breathe as you laid by his bedside, play silly games with him. You were in love with this man.

“What are you thinking about?” He smiled, still swaying in your embrace.

“Nothing much.”

A/N: the ending is a little questionable but lemme know what you think! Requests are open! :)

#fml it's not showing up in tags T_T #okay here we go last attempt- #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x reader smut #peter parker x reader #platonic reader #spideygirl writes

[fruitcoops]

ok so firstly I love any loops and jules fic but secondly could we have one where jules is having a really tough time (either missing loops/ picked on etc. ) and then we see loops (not coops) surprise him and is just so protective - just sibling fluff that’s it

Oh Jules, I’m sorry I did this to you. What a wonderful prompt, though! I’m always down to write sibling fluff! SW credit goes to @lumosinlove <3

TW for bullying (older kids picking on younger kids)

Contrary to popular belief, Jules didn’t brag about his brother every minute of every day. There was no point, and he wanted to be known for his own talents rather than living in Remus’ shadow for the rest of his life. Unfortunately, some people didn’t seem to understand that.

A balled of lined paper smacked into the back of his head. “Heads up, Loopy!”

Jules threw the ball back; it bounced off the end of the table and hit the ground pathetically. “Nice shot,” Aidan snorted as he passed, bumping his shoulder against Jules’ and making him stumble. Several people laughed. His face burned with embarrassment.

“Yeah, I bet your brother’s really proud of that,” Luke sneered. He was a big kid, far bigger than Jules both in height and muscle even though he was only a couple years older.

“Don’t talk about my brother,” Jules said, much quieter than intended.

Luke raised his eyebrows. “What’re you going do about it, Loopy?”

“Just shut up.”

“Who’s gonna stop me?” He leaned across the cafeteria table and Jules fought the urge to back away. “Huh? Your brother? He’s never around.”

“He’s busy.”

“He doesn’t want to be here.”

“He does,” Jules insisted, feeling his throat tighten. “He does, he just doesn’t have time—”

“He’s a celebrity, dude, no wonder he doesn’t want his tagalong brother around.”

It’s not true, Jules told himself. It’s not true. Time and time again, Remus had told him that hockey came second to family, but after months of not seeing him it was starting to feel false. “Shut up.”

Luke shifted in his seat and folded his hands. “Face it, Loopy: your brother’s not around because he’d rather spend time with his cool friends than an annoying little kid.”

“Leave me alone.” Jules’ voice cracked and Luke grinned.

“You’re gonna cry?” he asked, full of false sympathy. “Aw, poor baby.”

“It’s not true.” It was getting harder to believe the words. “He visits whenever he can.”

The lunch bell rang before Luke could retaliate; he ruffled Jules’ hair too hard to be comfortable and left, already laughing with his group of friends. What a dick, Jules thought as he swallowed down the tears.

He made it through the rest of his classes in a daze and walked home on muscle memory. It was a cold day for April, but maybe he could blame his red-rimmed eyes on the wind. Maybe Luke is right, part of him argued. There wasn’t a lot of evidence, but it was enough to make him want to throw up.

“Hey, baby, how was your day?” his mother called when he opened the door.

That was the tipping point, the tiny pebble that shattered the cracked glass dam holding back his tears. Jules sobbed once, dropped his backpack on the floor, and ran for the safety of his bedroom. “Jules—” The slam of his door cut his father’s concern short.

He grabbed the family picture off his wall and threw it across the room—there was no glass or frame, only tape, so seeing it flutter to the ground was far less satisfying than he had hoped. Remus had him on his shoulders for the picture; they all looked so happy. Jules sat down on the other side of his bed and buried his face in his arms, letting the emotions he had been holding in for three full hours flood out.

Deep down, he knew Luke was a liar and a bully with nothing better to do than pick on younger kids. That didn’t mean his words hurt any less.

A few minutes later, there was a gentle knock on the door. “Go away!”

There was a brief pause, then another knock.

“Just—just please give me a minute, mom!”

“I’m not mom.” Jules’ heart skipped a beat. “Can I come in?”

You’ve never been around to help me before. Anger reared up in his chest. “No!”

Remus hesitated for a moment. Jules hoped he was shocked, stunned, hurt. “Okay.”

There was a rustling noise; he looked around the foot of the bed to see a shadow in the crack beneath the door. “Are you—what are you doing?”

“Sitting down.”

“Go away.”

“No.”

“Mom, make him go away!”

“What did I do, Jules?” Remus sounded sad. There was none of his usual teasing in his tone. The anger twisted around in Jules and he scrubbed at the tears and snot on his face.

“When did you get here?” He knew he was being rude; his mother would have given him a pursed-lips look if he talked like that to anyone normally.

“A couple hours ago. It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“It’s a terrible surprise. Go away.”

“Not until you tell me what I did.”

Jules took a few shallow breaths before answering. “You’re never here. Never.”

“I know. I’m s—”

“I hate you,” he sobbed, bringing his knees tighter to his chest. “I hate you so much.”

There was a long stretch of silence on the other side of the door, but the shadow remained. “That’s fair,” Remus said quietly.

“No, it’s not!” Jules clambered to his feet and stomped over to the door, wrenching it open. “It’s not fair! I shouldn’t hate you, this is your job! You should—you should—”

Remus looked up at him from his crosslegged seat on the carpet. “I should what?”

“You should yell at me. Or make me open the door, or do anything that makes me angry at you.” He sniffled and hugged himself.

“When have I ever yelled at you?”

“The rat. And the water balloons. And when I stole your sticks. And when I froze your underwear.”

Remus winced slightly. “Fair point. I don’t keep yelling once you’re in the room, though, right?”

Jules deflated. “No.”

“So I’m not going to yell at you. Also, your bedroom smells weird, so I don’t want to go in there unless I have to.”

A smile tried forcing its way out and Jules covered it with his best scowl. “My room doesn’t smell weird.”

Remus sniffed the air, then shrugged. “Whatever you say.”

“Why are you here?”

“Mom said she was getting ice cream.”

Jules perked up. “Did she?”

“No.” Remus held up the car keys. “We can fix that problem, though. Go get your shoes.”

“Can I drive?’

“If you can convince dad, sure.” Remus stood up and mussed his hair; his hand was gentle, though, unlike Luke’s. It was a welcome change.

He grabbed his sneakers from under his bed and hopped down the hall as he pulled them on. “Dad, can I drive?”

His father didn’t even look up from the paper. “When Hell freezes over, buddy.”

“Lyall,” his mother scolded from the kitchen, though her eyes crinkled at the edges. “Remus, remember not to swear around your brother!”

“I won’t, I won’t,” he said, holding the door open for Jules as he shrugged his coat on.

They drove in relative silence, save for the Top Rock Hits of the Eighties cassette that they had each heard half a billion times. Remus pulled into the Dairy Queen drive-thru and rattled off Jules’ favorite without even having to ask. Somehow, that both soothed him and upset him even more. He handed the cone over carefully, stuck his blizzard in the cupholder, and started driving in the opposite direction of the house.

“Are you kidnapping me?” Jules asked, licking a stray drip of vanilla off the cone.

“I don’t think I can, seeing as we’re related.”

“You can. You don’t have custody.”

“Why do you know that?”

“Why don’t you, Mr. Fancy Degree?”

“This might surprise you, but they don’t exactly cover the intricacies of kidnapping in PT school.”

“Shame.”

Remus made a noise of agreement around the straw of his Blizzard as they rolled to a stop at the red light. “So, are we going to talk?”

“We already are.”

“Dude.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“Yeah, I figured.” He made a face when a chunk of Oreo got stuck the straw. “If you get that out before the next light, you can have a sip.”

Jules took it and squeezed the thin plastic. “Luke Sanders is an asshole.”

“Language.” The car stopped again and Jules showed off the unblocked straw. “Do continue, though.”

“You’ve hit every red light since we left the house. That’s got to be a curse.” He took a long sip, then handed it across the console. “You like hanging out with me, right?”

“Obviously. You’re, like, my favorite person.” Remus gave him a confused look.

“Okay, cool.” Jules felt his hands start to shake again, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t from his ice cream. Just hearing him say that made a tsunami of relief run through him. “Cool.”

“Did Luke Sanders tell you I didn’t?”

“He said a lot of stuff.”

Remus pulled into a parking lot, then took the key out and turned in his seat. “Like what?”

Jules shrugged one shoulder. “That you don’t want to be here.”

“And?” His voice had softened.

“And that it’s my fault, since I’m an annoying little tagalong.” Jules picked at the paper wrapper around his cone and didn’t look up. “He’s got a p—”

“If you say he’s got a point, all your underwear is going in the freezer.” All traces of gentleness were gone from his tone, leaving tightly-controlled fury in its place.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t—” Remus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Please don’t apologize, Jules.”

“You’re upset.”

“Yeah, because some little shit was picking on my brother and I wasn’t there to kick his ass.”

“I can handle it.”

If anything, that seemed to upset him even more. “Does this happen a lot?”

“Sometimes.”

“Have you told anyone?”

He shook his head. “I don’t want to be a tattletale.”

“Jules, there’s a difference between being a tattletale and reporting a bully.” Remus tipped his chin up. “Hey, what’s going on?”

Jules’ lower lip wobbled. “I missed you. I always miss you, but he’s been really awful recently and he keeps saying the same stupid stuff over and over.”

Remus’ nose and cheeks reddened. “I missed you, too. If I could be here all the time, I would.”

“I know it’s not your fault, and I know you’re busy.” He wiped away another tear and tried to pull himself together. “But it’s not fair.”

“It’s not,” Remus agreed. “It’s not fair that I’m gone nine months out of the year, and it’s not right that people are making fun of you for it. Hang on for a second, okay?”

Jules nodded, still drying his cheeks. Remus got out of the car and jogged to the other side, then opened the passenger door and gestured for him to get out; as soon as his sneakers touched the ground, he was lifted almost a foot into the air. “I’m sorry for yelling,” he managed, burying his face in his brother’s neck.

Remus kissed the side of his head and held him close. “I’m sorry I’m not around more.”

He hooked his chin over Remus’ shoulder. “Can you promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“Will you be here whenever you can? I know that might not be often, but just…when you can.”

He felt Remus’ chest hitch against him. “Always,” he whispered. “Always.”

[forthehpfanboys]

Gold Strings & Red Picks- PT 1

Pair: Ron Weasley x Reader; he/him.

Summary: The Weasley's invented a band! Having a band, means you need a band manager; someone to help find venues, gigs and sponsors. After finding one, Ron seems to be hopeless drawn toward them.

Warnings: flirting, swearing, bickering, sexual tension??, Punk Pining Ron but also Smug Ron, naming a guitar ‘Cherry Popper’, dm me if I missed any.

Notes: I plan on having some chapters kinda spicy. I made an entire gif for this and yes it is Rupert playing 👀 and god is this self indulgent. Hope you guys like it!

~DO NOT REPOST ANYWERE~

-

It was a Friday morning when you quit the Static Dragons and posted the news on every piece of social media you had. It didn’t take long for you to edit your bios to state you were looking for a new band, and it managed to catch someone's eye just as quickly. It was Monday evening when you got a dm on Instagram from a user called ddchrmrs-official. The user basically sent you a paragraph about how he was the lead singer of a band he and his siblings threw together and they were looking for a new manager. You agreed to meet with them and talk about the potential of the band and he agreed, using more than a few explanation marks after his reply. He even sent you a few of their songs once he deemed you worthy enough.

So, you found a dining hall, an equal distance from your house and theirs, and with the lead singer's approval, Fred, you booked it for Tuesday afternoon. Fred even made a post explaining the good news- why he was acting like one of the Weird Sisters followed him back, you weren’t sure. You couldn’t help but be excited too. The songs were good- more punk-rock than you assumed from the band's name. Something about the name Daydream Charmers gave off a softer, boyband type.

The day of the band meeting couldn’t have gone much worse. You missed your morning alarm, you couldn’t find your laptop charger and the clothes you picked out the night before ended up covered in stains from breakfast. GPS even gave you the fastest route and you still managed to be 10 minutes late, but you managed to find the right hall. It was a bit different compared to the pristine image shown on the website.

The roof looked like it was caving under an invisible weight and the actual size of the hall looked like a small barn. The walls were made of red and black bricks, most of which seemed to be chipped, broken or bending, like it was being crushed. The door frame was slanting, the door’s white paint was chipping, the sidewalk was splitting at almost every corner. You were desperately hoping the building was enchanted so it was bigger (and nicer looking) on the inside.

You parked your car on the pebble covered asphalt, right next to an equally old and rusty blue car. You had no idea how four people, a sound system, a bass, an electric guitar and a full drum set fit inside of the small wagon, but figured they managed to spell the inside bigger. You weren’t bothered by it- how could you be? You felt your wand hit your laptop inside the bag as you threw it over your shoulder after climbing out of the car. Shutting the door, you hurried up the broken concrete, shoving your keys in your pocket.

You chewed on your lip, adjusting the collar of your shirt as you approached the door. A smile pulled at your lips at the refreshing sound of genuine laughter and bickering. You had an internal battle of whether you should knock or just barge in. It sounded like they were having their fun and you didn’t want to interrupt anything. Soon enough, the laughter was dying down and someone was strumming a bass quietly, practicing a few chords from one of the songs Fred gave you. You raised a fist to knock on the door and the silence that followed was close to defining. Soft footsteps followed the silence and you swore you could hear soft breathing behind the door before it was yanked open.

“Hey! You made it! We were worried you got lost on your way here.”

You weren’t expecting to be face to chest with an individual. Their band's logo was printed across the front, red letters with a gold outline that clashed drastically with the bright orange fabric of the tight shirt. You tilted your head up, meeting cocoa brown eyes and a crisp white smile. His ginger hair was spread across his shoulders, his ear lobes were pierced with two shiny black flat stud earrings and the little white nostril piercing on the left side of his nose was reflecting the sunlight.

“Fred?” You asked, matching his smile. You could tell he had fun, you could sense it. His arm raised, inadvertently showing off his muscles, and rested against the door frame. 

“The one and only.” He grinned, clearly just joking. Before he could say anything else, he was rudely interrupted by a foreign voice behind him. Fred’s smile dropped into a frown like he was suddenly slapped across the face.

“Is it the pizza guy?” The voice asked from somewhere behind him, excitement clearer than crystal. Fred looked over his shoulder to respond.

“No, Ron. That’s not for another twelve minutes.” He rolled his eyes after looking back at you and letting out a loud sigh. “I’m sorry about him. His appetite is larger than Big Ben and it literally never stops. Anyway, I hope you like pizza! I tried to message you about it.” He pulled his phone out of his front pocket, unlocking it and scrolling through his messages and swiping right on notifications he didn’t care for.

“I was using my phone for GPS. Must’ve missed the messages.” Your hands slid into your front pockets, your weight shifting between your feet as embarrassment began to settle in. Maybe this wasn’t the best first impression. Before you could think about it too long, a low whistle was resonating from beside Fred.

Without warning, Fred was being nudged aside by a slightly shorter ginger, his piercing blue eyes staring into yours. They didn’t stay there very long though. They slowly dragged down your body, taking in your form, and his head tilted in appreciation.

“Oh.. I’m not gonna complain about the pizza when Merlin delivered us a cutie.” He gave you a dizzying side smile. “What’s your name, sweetheart? Surely, it’s something as handsome as you are.” Just as quickly as he appeared, Fred was pushing him back, faking a gag while driving the unnamed individual back with Fred’s hand against his forehead. 

“Ew! Ron, down! Seriously? Keep your yap shut! He’s our new band manager and I’d actually like to keep this one, thank you.” Fred groaned, a sneer pulling at his lips. He blocked the smaller ginger from the door with his body before turning back to you with a sigh. “I’m sorry. He’s usually not like this. Usually he’s moping about his ex-” You could see Ron jumping behind Fred to get another look at you. The reaction had you snorting into your hands.

“Fred. Fred, move, mate. I wanna see ‘im again!” The ginger whined, tugging at his older brother's t-shirt. He was dodging around Fred’s constant moving hands to get one more peek at you.

Fred let out a groan, his head falling backwards in agony before letting out a loud “George, please help!”

“Wait! Wait, wait!” Ron’s voice matched the panicked hand trying to hold onto the door frame before it was hilariously slapped off the wood and was dragged into the mystery hidden behind the lead singer. His begs and pleas began to echo and soften which you thought caused you to giggle a bit. 

“I’m sorry. We’ll put a muzzle on him or something. Come on in, I’ll introduce you to everyone.” Fred shifted out of the door way, allowing you to enter the hall. It was bigger on the inside than the outside, that much had you relieved. Fred shut the door behind you with a satisfying click and let you soak the place in while he sat himself down on a velvet red coach. It was dimly lit, about half the lights were on, and the walls were painted a light tan, which easily could’ve been mistaken for white, if white wasn’t used for the tiling. 

Next to Fred on the couch, was a girl with long, slightly darker, ginger hair. Her hair went well past her shoulders, and a bright orange base sat on top of her crossed legs. She had gone back to laying a few chords once you entered, just relaxing as her two brothers basically wrestled each other.

“Ginny, this is (Y/n).��� Fred spoke up, pointing from his sister to you, then back to her. (Y/n), this is the youngest Weasley in the family, Ginevra.” Fred smirked, but it turned into a pained expression when she landed a hard slap to his chest.

“Except if you call me that, I will break your legs. It’s Gin or Ginny, nothing else. It’s nice to finally meet you, (Y/n). Fred hasn’t shut up about you.” She smiled at you, reaching a tattoo covered hand out to shake yours. 

“Really?” You couldn’t help but grin. You shook her hand proudly, knowing it was probably your reputation that kept the oldest Weasley in the band chatting up a storm. “It’s nice to meet you too, Gin.” You gave her a cheeky grin before turning to the other side of the hall, noting another Fred standing in front of Ron, who was sitting in a chair quiet grumpily. 

The double picked up a deep red guitar covered in stickers and shoved it into Ron’s lap, causing the younger to gasp out a wheeze. It was obvious he had chewed Ron out for his behavior, but nevertheless, he gave his unplugged electric guitar a few strums, which seemed to satisfy Fred 2 because soon enough he was storming back to the couch, shaking his head the entire walk there.

He sat himself down on the arm of the couch, right next to his doppelganger. His arms crossed back over his chest once again. Fred 2 had the same length hair, different piercings though. He only had one set of black earrings, but had an industrial across his left ear. He had a straight line of freckles across his cheek bones and right across his nose. The spots went down his neck and across his forehead. 

“He’s bloody useless.” He grumbled out, his snake bite moving to the right as his tongue ran across it. “Oh, hi!” Fred 2 scooted over to the edge of the arm rest, reaching his hand out to shake yours. “You must be the band manager! I’m George, Fred’s twin bro-”

“Younger twin. I’m the oldest.” Fred interrupted, smirking again as he pointed a thumb to himself. His smirk dropped when he was smacked in the chest again- by both George and Ginny. 

“I’m his twin brother. Ignore him, he has a God complex.” George rolled his eyes, smiling at you while he shook your hand. He pulled his hand away before scooting back to rest his back against the back of the couch. You could tell he wasn’t comfortable, but  he seemed dedicated to the spot. “I’m sorry you had to meet Ron the way you did. Usually he’s tamer than that.”

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh, your gaze turned down to your shoes. Your cheeks were beginning to heat up as his flirting rebounded through your head again.

“Nah, he wasn’t that bad.”

“I wasn’t?” Ron’s sudden voice behind you had nearly jumped out of your skin. You spun around, your backpack strings nearly catching on one of Ginny’s bass strings. You swallowed down a squeak. “Georgie was trying to convince me I was being inconsiderate and rude and that mum would smack me if she saw.” He was still holding the guitar by the neck, and that was when you noticed the bright gold strings with a red pick trapped between them.

“Well, it’s not like you were asking about my shoe size… “ Your eyes landed on the hands holding the black neck of the instrument and you couldn’t help but gawk at them. Rings covered his finger knuckles, veins popped out from beneath his skin. “Wow.” You didn’t mean to verbally gawk over the hands, so you had to force your gaze down to the instrument and ignore the urge to stare at the pale, freckle covered skin that was making your mouth dry. 

You shook your head, looking at the shiny strings. You had you stop yourself from reaching out and caressing the polished neck, the textures strings and hidden pick. It was clearly loved and carefully taken care of.

“Beauty, isn't she?” Ron grinned, showing off the red body drowning in decals- most of which were bright orange Quidditch themed or terrible chess puns. You almost forgot to check if they were a muggle band, but this told you enough. “My best friend got it for me, he’s a blessing. Mum didn’t approve, of course, said we all had better purposes, but dad said rock on.” 

“She really is. I’m guessing you named her?” The second the question fell from your lips, the three sharing a spot on the couch groaned in agony, but Ron was grinning in pride.

“Of course I have! Her name is Cherry Popper and she’s the love of my life. Unless,” Ron was taking a step closer to you, a twinkle in his eyes as he continued speaking, “you plan on cha-” His flirting was cut off suddenly.

“And that’s enough of that! Please sit down and, for the love of Merlin’s beard, rename the damn thing!” Ginny cried out, almost knocking her own instrument straight into the tiled floor. She ran a hand through her hair, her free hand holding the bass hard enough to make her knuckles pure white.

“I mean, come on! Name it something classic like ‘Bertha’ or ‘Jasmine’, or, and here’s my personal favorite, don’t name it at all!” Fred waved his hands while he spoke, counting the names on his fingers before doing jazz hands at ‘don’t name it at all’.

“Fred, that’s hypocritical. You named your mic.” George spoke up, pulling two white marble drumsticks from his jeans pockets and began to spin one between his fingers. 

“That was a joke.” Fred stuck his tongue out at his twin. “At least I don’t do it seriously. And leave Echo out of this.” Fred ripped the non spinning drumstick from George’s hand, holding it out of his twins reach.

“Shut up and give me Crystal back!”

“No, if you wanna talk about terrible names, we can talk about the band's name! Merlin, Fred, were you sky high when you made it?” Ron shot back, his arms crossing over his chest, one still holding the guitar.

Knowing this kind of fight could go for a good while, you slipped past him, patting Ron on the shoulder while you walked past while a pained gasp rented the silence that flooded the hall. You set your backpack on the white table, opening the zipper and pulling out your laptop. You sat down, pulling the laptop onto your lap before opening the notepad application.

“I made the name! And dammit, I think it was clever! It even has a unique backstory! At our school, we had a um- small business and it was quite successful. By ‘we’, I mean George and I and by successful, I mean we run an online joke shop. I thought it fit the shop pretty well.” Fred held a look of pride- a smirk was, once again, drawn across his lips as his eyes twinkled.

“Mate, it’s horrible.” Ginny spoke up, not even bothering to throw the truth as a curve-ball causing two of her older brothers to nod in agreement. She copied Fred’s movement by yanking the drumstick from his hand, but handed it to George, smiling at him. 

“Why couldn’t it have been something cool? You named your shop something cool. Why’d you give the band something’ shitty?” Ron rolled his eyes, leaning his back against the door, the guitar balancing on his sneakers and leaning against his ripped jean covered legs. His attention didn’t stay with his siblings for long. Soon it was shifting over to you, like he was naturally drawn toward you. He grinned at you, sticking his tongue out. The little gold ball stamped into the middle of his tongue had your full attention.

You swallowed thickly. The ball and his guitar strings were the exact same color and reflected the same light. You felt butterflies fill your stomach from the simple action and noticed, almost suddenly, the ginger was actually quite attractive and funny. You sucked on your tongue, hoping the blush across your cheeks didn’t give too much away. Ron looked back at his brothers, his side grin screaming he basically saw your body temperature rise.

“I was led to believe you all loved the name, but no! I’m starting to think you guys are just trying to embarrass me in front of the (Y/n), but since you think it’s so easy, come up with a new one.” Fred cried out, crossing his arms over the printed long sleeve t-shirt, and was pouting like a child now, sinking lower into the couch.

“It makes us sound like a cheesy boy-band going after 12 year olds.” Ginny scoffed, propping her bass up against the couch. She looked over at her slightly older brother, nodding her head in Fred’s direction.

“It does. We could’ve been Fire Wicks.” Ron pointed at Ginny and the teaming up began. “Or like Solar Skips.”

“Or The Red Bloods.” Gin nodded, pointing back at Ron while her other hand pulled out her phone. The game was ‘Who-Cares-If-It’s-Bad-Let’s-Prove-Fred-Wrong’ and you could tell it was for shits and giggles. You were going to pitch in an idea, but someone beat you to it.

“Or FireBolt Bitters.” Spoke up George, who was now gazing up at the ceiling, shaking his head in mock shame, but you could see the edges of his smile growing at the corners.

“Ooh, I love that one!” Ron leaned over, stretching his arm as far as it could to give  George a high five, before turning to look at you. He grinned at your confused expression. “Are you writing these down?” He pointed at your computer before giving you a wink. The butterflies came back, doubled in strength, and you couldn’t help but laugh. You shook your head no, laughing louder when he waved his hands in a panicked manner. “Write them down, mate!”

You rolled your eyes, typing random shit down just to please the younger one. Your eyes trailed across the dumplings, noting three quarters of them were smiling. Fred’s crabby expression made it was clear he didn’t get picked on very often.

“Charlie texted saying ‘The Copper Horntails’ would’ve been better.” Ginny said, looking up from her phone. She dropped the phone onto her lap, wincing a tad when the device collided with the instrument on her lap. She quickly forgot the pain and leaned back, enjoying her brother's pain.

“You asked Charlie?!” Fred squealed loudly, his hands holding his head. Right beside Fred, George had begun to tap his sticks together, improvising a beat to go with the arguing.

“You know what? That’s a great idea! Let’s ask Percy next-” yelled Ron over Ginny’s laughter and Fred’s agonizing scream. His smirk only grew when Fred tossed his head back. 

“Ok, damn! I get it! But I already made t-shirts so deal with it.”

“Fred, we have magic. We can always change the print.” George piped up, tapping the white wooden sticks against his thighs in some random pattern, his head nodding to a beat. He shrugged his shoulders, not focusing on his words all that much,

“George!” This time it was Fred’s turn to smack George in his chest. He glared at him before leaning over to whisper in his twin's ear. It was something you couldn’t make out, but you figured they were debating over your status. You rolled your eyes, reaching behind you.

With a clear of your throat, you gained their attention before pulling out your wand from your backpack. While waving it, you locked eyes with Ron, playfully chewing on your lip to try to hide your smile.

“But-” Fred scrambled to grab his phone. You knew he was going to pull up one of your profiles to show none of them mentioned magic or wizarding or anything.

“The quidditch stickers were a dead give away.” You pointed to Ron’s guitar with the tip of your wand before putting it back in your bag. “That, and the tiny blue car that somehow carried four band members, and all of their equipment even though, that should’ve been impossible. I do enjoy Firebolt Bitters, though.”

Your own smile grew when the siblings broke out into loud snorts and sniggers, save for Fred’s. Ron walked over to you, and you were sure his cheeks were hurting from how hard he was smiling. He laid his arm across your shoulders, pulling you into his side as he faced his band members.

“I like this one.”

A smile stretches across your face as your cheeks get warmer. Out of everything to come out of today, this was something even the strongest and most willed seer’s couldn’t have predicted. It wasn’t even half past noon and you’d already started to develop a crush on a punk guitarist who shares a band with his siblings. You were clueless on how you were going to do your managing and keep it strictly platonic when he grinned at you like you were everything he wanted.

#Ron Weasley #ron weasley x male reader #ron weasley imagine #hp x male reader #x male reader #male reader #ron weasley smut #hp imagine #hp fic #punk!ron weasley

[seiyasabi]

Ugly Bastard

(This is a Yandere Milluki Zoldyck x Rabbit Female Darling :))

I’m really sorry if this wasn’t what you wanted, but this is my interpretation of his character, and my interpretation is that he’s considered the ugly bastard and a neckbeard :/ I hope you enjoy this. 

TW: Aged up!!, Forced heat!, !technically noncon!, !dubcon!, He’s rlly gross!, daddy kink!, objectification!!, breeding kink!, typical neckbeard behaviour, mate literally doesn’t wash himself (I’m so sorry) or clean his room!, he fucks you while you hold a comfort object, etc.. 

I don’t normally say this, but please, please proceed with caution! This got really dark and disgusting :/) 

-

Giggling to himself, the short haired man holds a glass vial up to the light, the amber liquid inside sloshing violently. A grotesque smile paints his chubby face, thick fingers holding it so tightly that his knuckles are turning white, “Thank you, Illu-nii! She surely can’t resist me now!” 

The oldest Zoldyck looks down at his younger brother with disgust, wondering how exactly he became this way, “Of course… But, if she was giving you so much trouble, why not take her-?” 

Milluki shakes his head, holding the vial close to his breast, “No! I can’t do that, are you crazy?” Illumi raises a perfectly shaped brow, unimpressed by his grease ball of a brother, “I’m not the ugly bastard in this story! I’m her handsome prince-” 

Illumi tunes him out, rolling his eyes. Of course his brother doesn’t have morals, he just wants you to bow to his every whim. 

Although the eldest brother couldn’t critique the younger too much, he still couldn’t shake the overwhelming repugnance he feels towards him. 

He’s seen the room you’re trapped in, seen the harsh way Milluki tugs on your ears and tail, seen the- he shivers at the memory of the short haired man forcing you to feed him. The excessive way he chews with his mouth open, trying to get a reaction out of you, makes the tall man’s blood boil. He has no idea how you’re able to keep calm, but he can applaud you for it. 

“-So this is my last resort! Thanks to you, Illu-nii, we can now continue to Zoldyck like!” Illumi can’t help but shiver in disgust at the idea of Milluki reproducing. 

“Yes, yes, of course. You go do that,” With quick feet, the slim man hurries away, hoping to escape this conversation as quickly as possible. 

Glancing at the vial in his hand, Milluki squeals in delight, a gross smile on his greasy face. 

Tonight is going to be a night to remember. 

-

Hearing the door open, you immediately look up from your clean spot on the bed. In your arms you hold your stuffed rabbit, cradling it to your black bodysuit clad breast. 

Seeing your captor waddling into the room, you jump to your feet to greet him. Putting on a fake happy smile, lifting your ears, and shaking your tail, you start to gush over him, “Daddy, welcome back! I’m so happy to see you!” You hop over empty Mountain Dew Liters filled with piss, wrappers of empty food containers, broken games that disappointed Milluki, and his dirty clothes. You try to clean up, you really do, but Milluki is one of the sloppiest people to ever live.

His ugly face grins at your beautiful form, your pretty face, and cute voice, “What a good bunny, coming to greet her Daddy!” He opens his arms for a hug, making you breathe through your mouth. Landing on his large stomach, you lay your head against his breast, trying your best to block out his grease, musk, and food stains. 

This bastard fills you with so much disgust and anger. He tells you that you need to lose weight, dress up pretty, put on a lot of makeup, keep clean, and be well shaven. Yet, here he is, looking like a goddamn catastrophe. 

“I missed you so much! Me and Hoppy,” You raise their stuffed animal, “Were waiting for you all day!” 

He rubs a sweaty hand over your exposed shoulders, “You’re so cute, Bun. Daddy has a special present for you today,” He uses the hand that once rubbed your shoulders to reach into his pocket, withdrawing a certain amber filled vial, “Be a good girl, and drink this all. You’ll do that for me, right?” 

You pull away from him to look at what he’s offering, feeling dread weigh down on your heart, “What is it, Daddy?” 

He tuts condescendingly at your question, releasing you from the awkward side hug you were in. His thumb and forefinger grip your chin, a suddenly serious look on his face. Fuck, you forgot that rule, “Bun, you know how Daddy feels when you question him! Good girls don’t question their Daddies, we always know what’s best for them.” 

You want to scream ‘no’ at him, but unfortunately, you’d rather not receive a brutal punishment tonight. Nodding your head, you smile up at him, “Okay! I’m sorry for questioning you, Daddy.” 

He squeezes your tail, before grabbing your hand, and forcefully placing the vial into it, “Good, Bun Bun! Now, drink this!” 

Rolling the warm glass in your hand, you scrunch your nose slightly at the weird smell of the contents inside. But, feeling his warning glare on your figure, you quickly uncap it, and throw it back like a shot. 

It tastes horrible! 

You can’t help but gag at its vomit esque taste. Covering your mouth with a hand, you stare down at the vial in both shock and disgust. Luckily, you’re able to choke it down, but you’re only barely able to. 

“Good Bunny, I’m proud of you,” He runs a moist hand through your hair, making your stomach lurch. 

“Thank you, Daddy,” Milluki drags you to his bed, disregarding the trash you have to step on with your bare feet. Once at the bed, he tries to push you onto his side. You don’t allow yourself to fall forward, instead opting for your designated sliver of the bed. No matter what you try, no matter how many times you change your sheets, Milluki’s side always ends up absolutely filthy! His grease, food stains and…… unspecified stains discolour any colour of sheets, even black ones! So, you only stay on your side, trying not to get a skin infection. 

He makes a noise of disapproval behind you, but quickly flops down on his side, his arms squeezing your middle tightly. His right hand lays over your tummy, squeezing slightly. Thinking that he was going to critique your looks, you whimper slightly, “I’m sorry, Daddy, am I gaining weight? I can go on another diet-“ 

“No! No! You’re doing great, Bun! If anything, I think you’ll need to be a little bigger…” He trails off, increasing your nerves. Is that why you’re sweating? It’s suddenly very hot in here. 

“Daddy, is the heater on?” You lay your free hand on your forehead, the other gripping Hoppy in an ironclad grip. Are you getting sick? That could be a problem. Your diet since getting here has changed drastically, along with your sleeping pattern, cleanliness or your environment, and your stress level. Hopefully he’ll cast you into a separate room, leaving you to your own devices. 

“No, why?” He removed your hand from your forehead, and replaced it with his own. Is this supposed to happen? He isn’t too sure how heats are supposed to happen. 

“I-I think I’m getting sick, Daddy. Should I go take a cold bath?” 

“No! I mean, uhm, no, that won’t be necessary. Just stay right here,” He tightens his hold even more, you can feel your ribs creak underneath his fingertips. 

You say nothing, starting to curl into yourself at the feeling of cramps in your abdomen. Could you be starting your period? 

“I think I started my period,” You don’t see him look at you in disgust, but you can feel it. 

“Then get up, I don’t want you dirtying the sheets,” You had to stop yourself from laughing. You? Dirtying the sheets? Says the man who has turned them rancid! You set your bunny stuffie on your clean pillow, trying to keep it away from any dirt. 

Hurrying to your feet, you move quickly towards the bathroom. Once inside, you flick on the light, showing its pristine condition. He almost never comes in here, leaving it clean. 

Unzipping your outfit, you pull your tail out of its hold, and shuck it down your legs. Once bare to the room, you open the toilet seat lid, and sit. 

Once done with your business, you wipe, expecting something to be different, but not what you see. The piece of toilet paper is absolutely drenched, and not in what you think. 

You slick is practically drenching your entire hand, scaring the shit out of you. What on Earth is happening to you?! And why did the feeling of your wiping feel so good?!

Grabbing baby wipes, you wipe down your pussy and ass, cleaning yourself up as much as possible. You stand up on shaky legs, closing the lid, flushing the toilet, washing your hands, but the pain becomes too much.  Tears bead your eyes as your fear and pain take over, causing you to curl into a ball on the marble floor.

A burning feeling of arousal pools in your belly, making the urge to touch yourself grow exponentially. What the hell did Milluki give you? And aphrodisiac? You’ve never had a heat in your life! 

Milluki knocks on the door after a long period of silence, the only thing he hears is your crying, “What’s wrong, Bunny? Is everything alright in there?” 

You whimper in response, prompting him to open the door. The sight of your naked body made him do a double take. And, upon seeing a growing puddle of arousal around your hips, he can’t help but salivate. 

“Is my little one in heat? How precious! Cute little bunnies need their Daddy, and if you ask nicely, I’ll be happy to assist you!” Milluki bends down to grab you, but finds difficulty when his large stomach stops him halfway. Grunting slightly, he crouched down, finally able to grab one of your arms and heft you into his own. Once secure, he stands to his feet, stumbling to your bed. 

He tosses you in the middle, much to your disgust, and flips you onto your back. He gazes down at your perfect body, practically salivating at the sight of you. 

Your pussy is drooling onto the dirty sheets, cleaning away his dirt in its midst. Perfect teats are pebbled, chest heaving in deep breaths. Your ears hang high above your head, curling slightly, looking adorable. Your little tail above your cute butt looks so nice to pull. A thin sheen of sweat is present on your skin, and as much as he wants to be disgusted, he can’t. You’re just too perfect like this. 

“Do you need Daddy’s help? Come on, you need to beg for him,” Your body locks up in revulsion. You don’t want his nasty cock anywhere near you! For all you know, he’ll give you a bacterial infection! 

“Nu-no, Daddy. I just-I just need to sleep, I think!” Looking over your shoulder, you see a dark present on his face. 

“Are you disgusted by me?” His voice comes out deeper than normal, anger slowly starting to become apparent. 

“No! No! Nothing like that, Daddy!” You force your aching body up, crawling towards him. You’re on your knees before him, holding onto his dress shirt pathetically within your pretty hands, “I just-you know I want to wait until we’re married,” You look down in an attempt to be bashful. Telling him that lie at the beginning really saved your ass, but right now, it seems that he’s tired of waiting, “I promise that that’s all! Because what if I get pregnant? I want to ensure my baby is taken care of-“ 

He grabs your hands, yanking you towards him, your naked chest smashing into his fat. He cups your face with gross hands, gaging your reaction. When all he sees is anxiety, he sighs overdramatically, “There’s no need to worry about all of that. Mama said I can marry you, so we can make a baby now!” His words make you gush with unwanted arousal, the last thing you want is him to fuck you, “See?” He releases your face with one hand, using the other to scoop up some of your arousal, “Why are you stopping yourself? Daddy’s cock is more than sufficient to fill you up.”

Try as you might, the smell of his arousal and your heat clouded mind are starting to drive you wild. He’s the closest fertile male, making your instincts go into overdrive to mate. 

A pathetic whine leaves your throat, making him giggle horribly, “Even all teary eyed, you still look so cute. Good thing all of your makeup is water-proof, because if they weren’t, you’d look so ugly right now.”

You’re so aroused, that his words don’t make you furious like you usually would be. 

“Now, take out my cock, Bunny. Suck me well, and I’ll breed your pretty pussy well,” In your mind, you don’t want to. You don’t even want to touch him with a ten foot pole. But, instinctually, you’re ready to jump his bones. 

With shaking hands, you grab his belt, unlooping it with ease. Sliding it off, you move to his button and fly. Unbuttoning his pants is a bit difficult, due to it barely containing his large body, but you manage. Once done, you move on to his drawers, gross, white stains cover the front of them in a crusty topcoat. 

Shivering in disgust, you pull them down, revealing his decent sized cock. Milluki smiles down at you, and grabs your ears in a makeshift ponytail, egging you on. 

Deciding not to look to close at his repulsively unwashed cock, you close your eyes, and suck on his precum coated tip. It tastes awful. If you thought that heat inducing elixir was awful, this is 100 times worse. 

Withholding your gags, you take him further down your throat, praying you don’t get strep throat. Using your tongue, you rub the vein on the bottom of his shaft. Hollowing out your cheeks, you suck him hard, bobbing your head quickly in the hopes of him finishing. 

Gripping your ears even harder, he groans and pants as he bucks into your mouth. Milluki can’t believe it! His waifu is sucking his cock willingly! 

That thought has him busting a fat, chunky load down your throat, causing you to almost throw up for real this time. He quickly pulls you off by your ears, looking down at you in awe. 

The puddle around your cunt only grew bigger, and your fucked out expression is so endearing! 

“Good girl for making Daddy cum! Do you want him to cum in that cunny? To make the hurt go away?” You nod eagerly, making a piggish smirk cross his features, “Beg for me, Bun Bun, beg for me nicely, and I’ll do it.”

 You grasp his cloth covered hips in a tight grip, resting your chin on his large stomach, “Please, Daddy! Please make it stop! Please fill me!” 

“Hmm, I’m not sure if I’m convinced,” Whining at his words, you turn around in his hold, pressing your slick cunt against his already hardening cock. Rubbing lightly, you keen at the pressure. 

“Please, Daddy, I’m begging you! Please fuck me!” Milluki can’t hold back anymore, immediately forcing his cock inside your soaked pussy. Screaming in pleasure, you push yourself harder against him, tail tickling the underside of his tummy. 

“Shit, you feel amazing,” He bucks his hips into yours hard and fast, not caring about your pleasure, “Don’t you see? This is your purpose; a little Bun like you is meant to be my cock sleeve, my little baby maker.”

You can’t bring yourself to respond, only pathetically fucking yourelf into his thrusts. He groans at your tight and wet walls, loving the way your cute, bunny body clings to him. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” He lifts one of your ears to whisper into it, “You want my babies? You want me to cum inside?”

You nod your head rapidly, disregarding the slight pain of his tugging, “Uh-huh, please fill me up, Daddy! Make me your house wife! Make me have your baby!” 

Your words send him over the edge. Slamming himself deep inside you, he releases his disgusting cum inside your womb, bloating your tummy slightly. 

The large man leans on your smaller form, smushing your face into the dirty sheets. Within moments, the burning feeling and pain is gone, leaving you disturbed and revolted. 

“Wha-what do good girls say to their Daddies?” You wanted to throw yourself out of a thirty floor window. 

“Thank you, Daddy. Thank you for giving me a baby,” He pets your head with a moist hand, rolling out and off of you, in favour of lying behind you. He wraps an arm around you, pulling you close to his soft body. 

Milluki falls asleep quickly, allowing you to cry quietly to yourself. 

Outside the door, Illumi stands motionless. He can hear your crying, and for the first time in his life, he truly pities someone. 

He can only hope his father will reject you as Milluki’s spouse. 

Otherwise, you’ll be stuck with the ugly bastard for life. 

Requester: @milluki-simp--i-guess 

#yandere hxh #yandere milluki #milluki hxh #milluki x reader #hxh x reader #yandere hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter x reader #tw: noncon

[marahuyos]

anon asked: Could I request the reader being childe’s younger sister/sibling but she’s the second youngest so in her earlier teenage years and maybe sneaks out one night doing something dangerous like fighting a bunch of ruin guards with friends or something like that

*:･ﾟ✧ takes place during childe’s story quest!

f!reader

platonic relationship!

tw: none

You tugged your sibling closer, not wanting to let him go as you explored this part of Liyue. The greenery was a completely foreign site to you, the warmth of the sun almost weirding you out because you weren’t used to have a sun shining down on you. You didn’t have a shining sun giving warmth to the frozen lands of Snezhnaya so having short clothes is so... different.

“Wow...” Teucer breathed out, looking at the vast lands. “This looks amazing!”

“Right!?” You exclaimed back. “Man, seeing this is so worth being stowaways!”

“Hey!” Teucer suddenly shouted, pointing his finger at something. You followed his finger to see a Ruin Guard sitting next to a broken tower. You immediately bit your lip. You’ve seen what they actually were, no thanks to you going out underneath Ajax’s nose. But you can’t break Teucer’s heart by not going towards it.

You thought back to your training with Ajax. You were sure you can at least stall the thing, right?

You smiled back at Teucer. “Let’s go meet Mr. Cyclops!”

Teucer’s smile was all the confidence that you needed. You two hurried to where the Ruin Guard was, Teucer nearly dragging you in his excitement. The hulking mass of metal slowly made you regret your decision but you had to show strength. You weren’t going to let some rusty robot destroy your little brother’s dreams.

Seeing the thing up close though, you realized just how idiotic your plan seemed to be. You just hoped that this one was a defective Ruin Guard as you watched Teucer run up to it without a care in the world. The hulking mass loomed over you two, but Teucer doesn’t seem to care. With his arms raised in glee, he greeted the giant like an old friend.

“Mr. Cyclops!” He yelled. “We came to see you!”

So far, nothing has happened. Maybe this was a defective Ruin Guard all along?

You lowered your guard, letting a smile break free until you noticed the pebble falling off on its shoulder.

“Teucer, get back!” You yelled, grabbing his shoulders and pushing him behind you. Your polearm automatically appeared in your hands, putting yourself in a defensive stance in front of Teucer.

He calls out your name, voice quivering. “Wh-What’s wrong?”

Your heart broke that you had to break his dreams but you can’t do it. Not to him, or to Ajax.

“This Mr. Cyclops is uh...” You scrambled for an excuse. “He’s a really mean one! He’s one of those bullies!”

Teucer gasped indignantly. “Mr. Cyclops is not a bully!”

“Well, there are a lot of Mr. Cyclops’,” you continued, eyeing up at the already standing Ruin Guard, “and sometimes they can be just meanies!”

You hoped that was an adequate excuse for whatever you were about to pull. The Ruin Guard reared its arms, preparing to strike the ground. Without delay, you picked up Teucer and ran away from the strike. The ground that you were on before corroded and pulverized to dust as you hurried to a nearby forest. Spotting a thick enough bush, you tossed Teucer there, crouching down to his level with a stare that said ‘Stay here.’

Turning your back against your little brother, you readied your polearm against the Ruin Guard, it’s yellow core staring down at you like if it was capable of gloating. With a battle cry, you ran up to the thing, sidestepping its punches and piercing your polearm to where the joints are. It sparked and you could hear mechanical somethings breaking down but it wasn’t enough.

Rearing back, you stared up in horror at the sight of it’s back, missiles raring to fire. There was no way to dodge it in time and you had no idea if any of them would hit Teucer. Fearing for the worst, you shut your eyes. You hear the missiles fire and you instinctively flinched.

Yet nothing happened. You peeked with one eye and you wished you hadn’t.

The familiar red scarf fluttering with his Hydro Vision, the water blades that he holds in each hand, the orange mop that you kept teasing him that he should get a haircut. It was him.

Without warning, Ajax jumped and gouged the core with his water lance. The Ruin Guard immediately staggered back, it’s footsteps creating mini-earthquakes that you had to ground yourself. Without even grunting, Ajax managed to tear the core away from its body. The core spazzed when it was pierced through his lance. Ajax then hopped off of the Ruin Guard as it flopped down on the ground, no longer moving.

The only source of sound were the birds who flew overhead and your labored breathing. You still had trouble assessing the situation as you were still holding your polearm in a death grip. Thankfully, you didn’t have to wait too long to snap out of your stupor.

“What on Teyvat were you thinking!?” Ajax yelled, whirling back to you. You flinched when you saw his face; his eyes were positively dripping with anger and it didn’t help that his mouth was etched into a snarl. “I thought I left you back home and here you are, fighting a Ruin Guard!”

“A-Ajax...” You stammered. “I...”

“Don’t blame them, big brother!” Teucer exclaimed from his hiding spot. His arms quickly parted the bushes, leaves still clinging to him but he still hurried to your side. “It was my idea to meet Mr. Cyclops!”

Ajax’s eyes widened at the sight of Teucer before he glared back at you. “You brought Teucer with you!?”

Warmth began to bloom behind your eyes as you looked down, not wanting to meet his gaze. “I-I’m sorry...”

Your sorry state made Ajax’s words constrict in his throat. Even when you did something dangerous and trying to scold you, he still can’t feel bad about making any of his family cry.

With a sharp sigh, he brought you closer to his body, wrapping you in a hug. From there, he felt the tears stain his shirt and frankly he would prefer that over the blood that he’s stained with. Looking at Teucer, who was already beginning to cry, raised his hand to his little brother.

Questions will have to wait. Right now, Childe is Ajax.

#genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #childe #childe x reader #childe imagines #platonic #x f!reader #x female!reader

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Diary found in K---D--- : Part 2

So, here's the next little part of this :D

Imagine by @lathalea is indented!

Enjoy <3

Taglist: @shrimpsthings, @mulasawala (so you see where I'm going with this lol)

(Yes, there will be MORE artwork coming, stay posted...)

Fandom: Hobbit

Characters: Ori x OC

Rating & Warning: Fluff and silliness

His name was Ori and he was a scribe in Erebor. It turned out he visited the forest often to sketch the animals and plants. You spent the rest of the day together. In the evening, you exchanged campfire stories, sharing a meal. At one point, he shyly asked about where you came from. Blushing, he admitted, almost whispering, he never saw a person with such beautiful hair before.

You told him that you came from another world, from a region called East Asia, where many people looked similarly to you. He was very curious about your homeland, your culture and your world. You spent hours telling him everything about it and he listened to you in awe.

“Ori.” He replied, his lips quirking a tiny bit as if he was not used to speaking his own name. “I’m a scribe. In Erebor. The Mountain.” He pointed to a tree beyond the clearing.

Thankfully, I was familiar with the Lonely Mountain and did not think that he didn’t know the difference between a living organism and a pile of minerals.

“I have never seen you, neither here nor in that Mountain.” I replied, for I went into the halls sometimes to translate for travellers, but for the most part, I let the king be his grumpy, glorious self.

“I come here often, to sketch, but I seem to have lost my way.” He admitted with a tiny frown. Ah, a real dwarf. They only knew up and down seemingly and if there was no way into a hill, they’d stubbornly trek up until they tumbled off the other side again.

As if to prove to me that he was not lying – dear reader, he had a face that was utterly devoid of malice or dissimulation – he showed me rather good sketches of the fauna and flora of the dense forest surrounding us. “That is really good, Ori, the scribe, from under the Mountain.” I commented which made him blush with a fierce and, apparently, unexpected pleasure.

In an expression of indescribable cuteness, he literally wiped his face with his sleeve as if he could clean away the rosy hue like a stubborn ink stain from under his skin.

“What are you here for?” He then asked, pushing out his chest heroically. As a reminder, he was the one who had lost his way, but apparently, he wanted to defend either the forest from me or the other way around.

“I am here to think…in silence.” I replied; he retreated a few steps. “Oh? I’ll leave you to it then, I guess. It was great to make your acquaintance…”

I gave him my name, after all, he had given me his, and he chewed on it for a few moments before his face split into a smile that was like the sunlight breaking through the cloudy afternoon sky: tentative, warm, and strikingly beautiful.

“Stay. I like your face.” I heard myself saying. Maybe, it was my teasing, mischievous streak acting up, but I had liked his embarrassment so much that I couldn’t help wanting to coax more of these blushes out of him.

“My…face?” In that weird dance he had been engaged in for the last few minutes, Ori stepped closer again, shuffling his feet in the heavy boots dwarrows insisted on wearing.

No, your ass, I thought, but bit my tongue; Ori the dwarf looked like someone who would die on the spot if I said anything even remotely inappropriate…as I was wont to do when nervous.

My sarcastic thought spurred my own interest though and I examined him a little closer: he was indeed swaddled like a babe, beads of sweat pearling down his temples on account of the steep climb and the stubborn blush powdering his nose and cheeks with pink blotches.

“Sit down, you’ll get a heat stroke.” I invited him and pointed to a patch of moss beside me while rummaging in my pack for the flask of ale I had brought.

“Thank you ever so much.” He plopped down in a cascade of earthen-coloured wool and awkward limbs. He did smell warm, I noticed, a blend of cinnamon and comfort.

Also, he had one of those faces that only became better when seen up-close, I admit freely; there were golden stars dancing in the depth of his dark eyes and he had the most adorable freckles as if some outlandish fairy had sprinkled gold dust over that heart-wrenchingly handsome face.

“Are you thirsty, Mistress?” He asked, nodding at the flask in my hand.

Handing it to him rather abruptly, I realised that I had spent the last moments intently staring at his face as if I had never seen a male dwarf before in my life.

“I have work to do.” I snapped, feeling immediately guilty for taking my own embarrassment out on him, but he merely nodded and pulled his sketching supplies into his lap.

Strangely enough, Ori did not disturb me. If anything, the silence felt fuller, richer, deeper with him by my side. As I translated a letter, as a spinster I had to support my family and my insufferable sisters as best as I could, I felt like the chirping of the birds and the vibrancy of the colours around me were even more enjoyable now that I shared them with someone else.

…

The sun crept along its never-changing arc slowly and yet, much too fast.

As I looked up, I wished I was a better painter myself, for this dwarrow was made for sunsets.

The way the last golden hurrah of a perfect day exploded in a halo of warmth around his figure, the way all the greys and the blues seemed to bleed out of the world to leave nothing but warm tones behind, and the way his smile was the perfect expression of this mellow, unhurried mood…it struck me deeper and more violently than a thunderstorm in all its booming rage would have.

“Will you join me for dinner, Ori?” I asked gently, “I shall escort you back down.”

“It would be my honour.” He nodded, tearing out a page of his notebook and handing it over.

“It was an invitation; I do not demand payment.” I said seriously, for the sketch of the doe was so good, it might have been worth actual money. “Oh…” His nose crinkled at little at that.

“I wanted you to…have something beautiful. I have seen you work very hard.”

Of course, he was a scribe as well, he would consider the scribbling work, I thought and gave him a thankful smile. “You’re beauty enough for one day.” I shrugged.

He gasped, bringing his notebook up to his face as if to shield himself from my words.

“You’re having me on, aren’t you? Dori has warned me that girls do that sometimes.” He sounded utterly dejected. “I am not having you on. Has nobody ever told you that you’re handsome?” It was my turn to be wide-eyed with shock.

“And who is Dori?” I followed-up when he didn’t really reply to my question even though I thought I had seen his braids move like strings of pearls in a draft. The minutest of shakes of the head, a quiet admission of inadequacy that sunk ugly, ragged claws into my soft heart.

“He’s my brother. I have two of them. Dori…and Nori. They’re…” – “Older than you.” I completed. “Protective.” He supplied.

He was still holding his drawing out to me, and, after a moment, I took it gingerly and put it between the pages of my own writing supplies. I would hang it in my room and look at it daily.

Nowadays, there were but very few gifts for me; all the money went to my two younger sisters who were still nubile and would, if Mahal willed it so, be able to make a good match.

Busying my hands with making a fire, I asked him to tell me about his brothers.

“Oh, Nori is…agile. He’s…funny and brave and resourceful.” Ori started, his voice warm with affection and admiration. He sounded like a proper rogue to me, and as it turned out, he was, but he also deserved every single ounce of the deep-felt care Ori held for him.

“Dori is…fussy. He’s polite, he’s very caring, and he’s exceedingly proper.” Ori went on as I waved a hand for him not to stop. I enjoyed hearing about the life of other families than my own.

“So, is he the one who raised you to be this…warmly clad and gentle?” I asked, turning to place the foodstuffs I had brought up and stored in the cool lake water on spits to roast over the fire.

“Warm? Oh yes…I was a sickly pebble and he’s been worried ever since. I hope I have behaved in a way that would not make him disappointed in me.” Again, he worried his lip.

“Let’s see, you’ve startled a bird and an unsuspecting dwarrowdam.” I listed with a wicked gleam in my eyes; his face fell, and he looked properly guilty.

“Then, you’ve kept me company, and the best company I’ve ever had, it has been, on my grandmother’s grave, I swear.” I went on and that treacherous blush was back with a vengeance.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.” He then said in a low voice. “Great beauty is always startling.”

“I am hardly Thorin Oakenshield.” He laughed. Readers, you cannot imagine that sound just by reading my words. If flowers blossoming had melody, if the sun setting on the eternal sea had a song, if autumn leaves dancing on a gale had a tune, they would have sounded like nails on scree, like cats having their tails trampled, and like kettles going unheeded compared to Ori’s laughter.

“There’s beauty in the doe as much as in the wolf.” I replied gently.

“May I…can I ask where you’re from? I don’t seek to be rude, but I’ve never seen anyone quite like you; your hair looks like those fabrics the Elves weave. It…seems so soft, so liquid, so smooth.” He blushed a darker shade yet.

This might well have been the first time that someone had asked me about my origins without making it sound like an accusation; there was honest fascination in his demeanour.

“My family and I have come from the Far East. I have travelled a lot, Ori, I have seen landscapes entirely made up of rock and sand, I have walked forests so stiflingly hot and moist it felt like being underwater, and now, I am here in the land of tall trees and taller mountains.”

I said, surprised by my own frankness.

“That sounds amazing.” He took the food I offered readily enough, and I told him about the people I’ve left behind to be stranded at the other end of the world.

“This is good, is that a recipe of your homeland?” He asked, looking down on the piece of meat I had seasoned with herbs I had grown myself in our small backyard.

“It actually is. I’m glad you like it. I had not planned to have company, otherwise I’d have brought something more palatable to the local tongue.” I apologised quickly.

“No, I like it. You should definitely trade some recipes with Dori…and Bombur…oh, and if any of your delicious herbs are medicinal, Óin.” He laughed again when he saw my dumbfounded expression.

“I make a good honeycake, if I can interest you in that? Maybe…” He fell back into silence.

…

A look at the sky told me that it was too late to go down in the inky darkness.

“We’ll have to stay here for the night.” I mumbled, slightly uncomfortable at the idea of spending the night with a dwarrow who had not lost a single word about a wife.

“Are you married, Mistress? Will that endanger your wedlock?” He asked shyly.

“No, I am not and I have no name to lose…It’s a long story.” I didn’t feel like blurting out my disgrace, lest it give him strange ideas after all, especially as he would easily have been able to overpower me if he so chose.

“Neither am I. I don’t know about my name…Doesn’t look like I’m going to be married either. There’s not enough dwarrowdams as it is, and I think the royal line has a prerogative there.” There was no resentment in his tone; he seemed to accept this as a fact.

How could someone that sweet not be married, I wondered. He was courteous, he was cute, and he would have made the fortune and happiness of someone.

“Well, in that case, I think we can risk our reputation rather than our necks.” I grinned, rolling out a blanket I kept tied to my pack for emergencies and stretched out next to the fire on the moss.

“Erm, yes…Good night…” He mumbled, fidgeting around with his different layers of clothing. Apparently, he was deciding which one he needed least on his body to use it as a bedroll or blanket.

I eyed the proceedings with interest and a good deal of amusement.

“I can offer you my cloak to lie upon…the ground will grow very cold and wet soon.” He said in a low voice, not sure if I had already fallen asleep or not.

“Alright, I can offer you a spot under the blanket then?” I extended my own graciousness.

“With you?” No, with the red bird, I thought, rolling my eyes internally.

“Yes, Ori the scribe, with me. I will not eat you, as you have witnessed, I have had dinner.” Not that he did not look good enough to devour, standing there with his cloak in his hands and his face all crunched up in embarrassment.

“Hmmm…I guess.” He muttered doubtfully, spreading out the cloak and sitting down on it carefully. Impatiently, I scooted over and spread my lousy blanket over the both of us with a flourish.

“Sleep!” I commanded as I turned around only to find him staring wide-eyed at the spot where the back of my head had been only a second ago. Now that he was presented with my face, only inches away from his, his eyes grew even rounder and bigger in wordless distress.

“Friend…Have you never lain with a woman? And I literally mean, lying next to one?” I laughed for there had been friends and cousins aplenty in my own life and the feeling of having another body so close to mine was not a new experience for me.

“Well, I fell down on the battlefield once, next to a foe…I’m pretty sure that was a Lady-Orc. She was dead. There was a…” He gestured, indicating a spear or a lance sticking out of his chest and brushing against my own with the back of his hand. Dear reader, he flinched back as if I was a tiny Durin’s bane wreathed in flames.

“A Lady-Orc, indeed…” I mused; no doubt, he could hear the smile I hid in my voice for his face crunched up in embarrassment.

“I am sorry.” He sighed, rolling his eyes, and thinking – there was not a shadow of a doubt about that much – of his brothers who would have mocked him mercilessly for his stammering.

“There’s no need to be sorry” I tried to reassure him, but I admit now that there were things that I did not tell him right away then. We had only just met, and he was blessedly unaware of my shameful past.

How could I have made him understand – without hurting his feelings – how much I enjoyed that air of purity about him that I had squandered myself on an undeserving fiend? As a daughter amongst others, I had been used to dwarrows coming to court or to seduce, their eyes ablaze with greed and their hands wandering.

He would not have comprehended how much the absence of that voracious hunger that had plagued my youth and had ended up destroying my promising future meant to me.

“Sleep.” I repeated, unable to put into words how miraculous and precious the things he seemed to be most ashamed of were to me.

“Good night, Mistress.” He breathed with a soft smile that was nowhere near the wolfish baring of fangs I was used to and so, it was easy to return it.

You who may or may not have stumbled upon this ludicrous account of the most important story in an otherwise unimportant life, you shall hear another confession I did not make at the time.

I was fiercely aware that – had I but leant forward a little – I might have pressed my lips upon his; I was young still at that time and, despite what had happened, parts of me, that should have withered and died in the aftermath of my botched engagement, were much alive.

He smelled like our dinner and warmth, and the gentle reticence of the curve of his smile was more inviting than any flashing grin I had ever seen before.

Yes, in that very moment, on this very first evening, I had already been conscious of the shrewd attraction this self-effacing dwarrow held for me…and it scared me half to death.

…

Part 3

#Fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ori the dwarf #Ori #OC #Fluff #Diary #1st person

[weasleydream]

i got to say goodbye

okay so i’m really emotional with this one, i don’t know if you’ll be too but i really wanted to write this moment. 

As usual, feel free to like, comment, reblog and enjoy!

Masterlist

Fifty years. It’s something, isn’t it?

We’re used to hearing that a lot happens in a day, so how could we describe what happens in fifty years? Maybe it depends on the person. Maybe some would say things aren’t that different, same places, same people, only a few more wrinkles and memories. Maybe for others, life couldn’t have gotten more different, feeling like an eternity for them, barely remembering what days used to be, forgetting more and more about their childhood friends and simple things such as the portraits in Hogwarts’ corridors. 

On any other day of the year - or even of the last fifty years - I would have answered I was part of the first category. To me, getting old was the most normal thing, or so it had become. Everything that had happened from funding a family with George to officially letting our little Freddie run the shop in Diagon Alley, all of it had seemed to be written somewhere. No matter how heartbreaking things could be, deep inside I was convinced it was how things were supposed to happen.

But today wasn’t like any other day of the last fifty years. Today was different, an anniversary the whole wizarding world had prepared for, an anniversary I wished with all I had life hadn’t given us a reason to celebrate it. Today, George and I, along with plenty of other wizards and witches, had been invited to celebrate the fifty years of the battle of Hogwarts and the fall of Voldemort right in this castle we had loved so much. Plenty of the people we had fought with weren’t here anymore. Plenty of them didn’t want to come back, still haunted by green lights, screams and explosions. George was among them. More than anyone else, he had refused to put a foot in these corridors he had known so well so many years ago. 

“What do you want me to say?” he had replied when I had asked him if he wanted to come. “That those who died were heroes? That they are still missed today? We know that, Y/N. Those who fought with us know that and the others don’t care. It isn’t worth it, it isn’t worth the pain.” he had added in a whisper. 

But I knew it was worth it, because back then I thought it was written too. We had lived long enough to see this day, it had to mean we had to go to the ceremony, right? I had eventually convinced George by constantly arguing with him and he had finally accepted because in fifty four years of love, my stubbornness had become way too much. 

That’s how we had ended up walking between the forbidden forest’s trees, where we were currently. Written or not, neither of us was ready to actually enter the castle that had been our second home for seven years. What if it had changed so much we didn’t recognize it anymore? Worse, what if it was still the same and we discovered we were nothing more than strangers between these walls? 

The forest was another place full of memories, most of them quite painful and bittersweet as they were filled with people we loved and we had lost, but it was the good kind of pain. The one that leads you to smile sadly before laughing frankly, the one that at first you don’t want to feel but once it’s here, you open your arms and ask for more. 

George and I were both silent, holding hands like we used to when we were younger. Sometimes, one of us would stop and close their eyes, overwhelmed by strong memories, and the other would wait and remember too, only for a moment, how we used to be. George was now an old man, and I was an old lady. His hair wasn't that bright red I used to adore anymore, it was more dull, strewn with white strands. His eyes, even though they still had their famous sparkle, were showing more and more tiredness as the years went by. His hands were more calloused too, his once soft skin burnt by countless failed attempts to create the perfect product for the shop. Like mine, his face was wrinkled and he always used to joke on the first of April about where the freshly appeared wrinkle was hiding. And like mine, his shoulders were hunched. 

Maybe it was the special atmosphere of the forest, maybe it was the memories I had forgotten and slowly remembering again, maybe it was all of this or none of this or it didn’t matter, fact is that I was realizing how wrong I had been for fifty years. Our shoulders weren’t hunching underneath the weight of the years but the weight of the war we had gone through. If we struggled that much to keep our eyes open, it was because we didn’t want to see more horrors. It wasn’t the people we had gone through so much with that we were forgetting, but the pain we had felt when we had lost them. 

If our lives were really written somewhere, the author had been quite cruel with us. 

“Are you okay? Do you want to go back home?” 

George’s voice suddenly echoed and I opened my eyes. As it seemed, I had been lost in my thoughts for more than a second. 

“No, don’t worry, it’s fine. Unless you want to leave, of course.”

“I’ll be okay.” 

He smiled softly and for a second, I saw the goofy boy that had asked me out before the Yule Ball, and I couldn’t help but also think about his twin brother laughing at our clumsy steps and our red cheeks. Even if he had been gone for fifty years, the memory of him was still strongly implanted in us and when we had decided to name our first son after him, it was to make sure no one would ever forget him. Fred Weasley, first of the name, the most big-hearted and idiotic man this world had known. 

“I miss him,” whispered George. With the years, he had learnt to stop crying when mentioning his twin, but his eyes would always carry the pain he felt deep down. “It’s been so long, yet I still feel the hole he has left.”

“I know Georgie,” I said while stepping toward him. “I know. But, you know, I feel like he’s right here, next to us.”

“And making fun of our sappiness.” added George with a chuckle. 

“Probably, yes!”

George nodded and looked away, grabbing my hand with more strength than earlier. We kept walking for some time, not really caring about the fact that the actual ceremony had probably begun by now. 

“You know how I know I’m getting old?” I asked half an hour later, as we were sitting on rocks along the creek. 

George looked up to me, this playful look in his eyes showing me he was ready to say anything stupid that would cross his mind. 

“The wrinkles? The sagging skin? I know, the-”

“Your skin hangs more than mine!” I said, falsely offended. “I was talking about the fact that I’m exhausted and it hadn’t even been an hour and half since we arrived.” 

“Tell me about it, I feel like my back is going to break in two!” As if to address it, George stretched his back and several crackings were heard. “I’m still more in shape than you, though.”

I was on the verge of replying when a soft thump echoed and cries of distress arrived in our ears. I jumped on my feet - as quickly as my tired legs let me, of course - and followed George to where the noise was coming from. We discovered an empty bird nest, and a few inches away a tiny nestling calling for help. 

“The poor baby!” I exclaimed. “Come here little one, I’m going to help you.”

I grabbed my wand and changed a stick found on the floor into a sort of little board. There were feathers all around the nest; George put them back in so that the nestling would be comfortable and I helped the baby bird come back in the nest with the board. Then I made it levitate to the branch above our heads and watched satisfied as the mother of the nestling came back and checked on her baby. 

“What is this?” mumbled George. 

I looked at him. He was holding a pebble in the palm of his hand. With a finger, I turned it again and again, it had a strange shape and was really smooth and I was pretty sure it wasn’t just a pebble. I was going to say it was really weird when he appeared. 

“It’s been a while, brother.”

It was a reflex. I tightened my hand around George’s, too afraid he would let go of the stone. He wasn’t thinking about it at all though. His eyes were fixed on Fred, on his shape that looked more than real. His face was still the same, he was still the same. Tall, his hands stuck in his pockets, his hair messy and his eyes shining. George extended an arm, his hand a few inches away from his brother’s chest. Fred sighed and a crooked smile appeared on his face. George’s hand didn’t go further away. 

“I’m glad to see you, Georgie. I missed you.”

“I- Me too, I missed you too. So much.”

“I missed you too, Y/N/N.” Fred winked at me and I nodded, sure that I would explode in sobs if I said anything. 

His eyes fell back on George, and they exchanged one of these looks they were the only ones to understand. George’s hand was tense in mine, as if he was holding tight onto me not to get lost on what had always been his biggest dream. 

“That beard looks great on you,” finally said Fred with a smirk. “Almost better than the one I had after we tried to cheat to enter the triwizard tournament. You remember?”

“Of course,” murmured George. “It was stupid to try that.”

“I don’t think so.” Fred shrugged and took a step toward us. 

The atmosphere changed instantly, and what was feeling like a dream became the most real feeling we would ever experience. Fred’s aura was pure, the same as it had always been but so much stronger that it was enveloping us. 

“I’ve been here every step of the way Georgie, and you know I’ll be until the end. Love you, brother. Say hi to the family to me, would ya?”

George nodded, murmured a shaky I love you too, see you soon brother, and opened his hand just enough to look at the stone. I knew he wanted to keep it, I wanted it too, but I didn’t realize that the twins didn’t share this view. 

“It’s incredible…” began George.

“But dangerous.” finished Fred. 

He smiled, and George closed his eyes. 

The stone fell on the floor, and the forest became as silent as it was before. My eyes were fixed on the stone when George murmured. 

“At least I got to say goodbye.”

He looked at me, there was a tear on his cheek that he didn’t bother wiping away, but he was smiling more brightly than in the last fifty years. He didn’t need to justify himself, I knew the tale of the three brothers too and I knew the resurrection stone was dangerous. We had to keep it hidden here, where even us would be unable to find it again. After an undetermined amount of time, George grabbed my hand again. 

“I think it’s time for us to get in the castle.”

I nodded and followed him, the image of Fred still engraved in my mind. 

#Harry Potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley x reader #george x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x you #fred weasley

[daydream-believin]

Recipe For Disaster 2: Electric Boogaloo

Summary: Jim is NOT happy about his sister’s boyfie. (not a part two despite the confusing name)

Warnings: swearing, a gilmore girls reference, divorce kids got daddy issues

Word Count: 5560, my longest yet woohoo

A/N: here it is im finally done with this. i- im tired. i love jim he was my favorite until doux came along but he can be a little bitch boy sometimes. and the word of the day is giggle im so sorry

tags: @alovesongshewrote​ hope i can deliver now that you have expectations lmao

It was a good Saturday. The trollhunters trio had gotten an early start on training, and thus Blinky had released them for an early lunch. It was a particularly successful day, with Claire really getting the hang of the shadow staff, so they decided to not make poor Jim cook for once and go out for a treat. And Toby really wanted a sandwich from Benoit’s.

They opted to walk to downtown instead of biking, as a way to cool down. Plus, it would give them time to digest their food on the walk back, before they returned to training once again. Although that was more of a problem for Jim and Toby, since Blinky wanted Claire to start reading a certain book this afternoon. She’d be in the library, quietly sitting while the boys go back to running around and fighting. The spring flowers had just started returning to Arcadia Oaks. The flowerbeds that decorated town added a cheery air to the day. Happily, Jim ran up in front to kick a pebble as they came up towards the bistro around the corner. He stopped in his tracks.

“Is Y/n’s boss flirting with her?”

The other two teens came around Jim to see. Y/n laughed at Douxie’s dumb joke and put her hand on his shoulder.

“And is she flirting back?” Jim asked incredulously.

Claire didn’t take this the same way Jim did. “Aww, that’s so cute.”

“No it’s not. It’s weird. And wrong.” Jim asserted.

“What are you talking about,” Claire lowered her brows with an annoyed tone.

“No, no. he’s right. Y/n doesn’t flirt. Or date. I’m not even sure she crushes.”

Claire shook her head, “That can’t be true, TP. She’s like, old. You two just didn’t notice it.”

“Oh, no, we noticed it. She went to every school dance alone, even senior prom.” Toby added. “It was kind of sad to be honest.”

“Remember that time that big movie star came into town? He was the prettiest guy I’d ever seen, and Y/n was just like ‘eh he’s okay, I guess’. We literally had a fight over that one.” Jim chuckled.

“I literally can’t imagine Y/n in a relationship. She’s just too all over the place.”

Claire rolled her eyes and gestured her hands towards the scene in front of them. “Well, she seems to be doing just fine now.”

Jim didn’t know why, but this made him a little huffy. “Whatever. It’s just a crush, anyways. She’ll get over it soon enough.”

Douxie leaned over to give Y/n a quick peck goodbye before he headed into Mr. Benoit’s to start his shift. He had swapped shifts with one of his coworkers for the day, so he could have the evening off. Y/n headed back to the bookstore. She tucked her hair behind her ear as she left, smiling to herself. The three trollhunters still stood right where they were, staring.

“I don’t think it’s just a crush, Jimbo.”

Jim was outraged. How. How was this happening. He could understand her not telling her family, their mother could be a bit nosy sometimes when it came to her daughter’s personal affairs. But his sister had often said she didn’t have enough time to pursue a love life whenever their mother probed her. There was no way she just started having said time. Right? It was curious, too, that out of all the people she could have chosen in Arcadia, she chose Douchey. That guy had girls fawning over him wherever he went. There was no way Y/n was into that.

Come to think of it, Y/n had been acting really strange ever since she had gotten that job at the bookstore. It was so easy to make her laugh now. She was actually wearing her hair in different styles instead of her signature. She actually enjoyed Barbara’s cooking. Or at least complimented it a lot now. Still a baffling action nonetheless. It was if she was experiencing the side effects of something. And that bookstore reeked of magic. Magic had the power to drive people out of their minds. He’d had plenty of first-hand experience with that. This whole situation was fishy.

“Well, I think it’s so cute they’re together now.” Claire said cheerily. He loved her but she wasn’t exactly the best when it came to making judgement calls. Hell, the fact that she was dating him after all he’s put her through was enough proof of that.

“Well, I think its magic.” Jim deadpanned.

“What.” Claire snapped.

“He’s got a spell on her! Some sort of enchantment. A charm!”

Toby was too tired from training today to deal with this. “I’ll agree, he does have charm, have you had him as a waiter? But not the kind of charm you’re implying here, Jim.”

“Douxie is my magic teacher, Jim. I promise, he’s a really nice guy.”

“Nope. There’s no way my sister would be into a guy, let alone a guy like,” He tried to find the right words but just sputtered, “Like that!” he motioned to poor Doux, who was changing the specials sign out front. Douxie was one of those bistro employees who always got asked to draw up the sign because his calligraphy was so good. Doux had to admit, his handwriting was messy compared to Merlin’s standards, but to Mr. Benoit’s he was a calligraphy god.

Toby looked Doux up and down. “I don’t know man, Y/n is kind of alternative.”

“Yeah, who do you think helps me dye my hair all the time? And sneaks me into concerts?” Claire added.

“Okay. I get that. But he’s just not good enough for her.” Jim said through gritted teeth.

Toby sighed. “Then who is?” he asked wearily.

Jim got defensive. “I don’t know! A prince, maybe. One that’s in line to be king. Not one of those waiting-for-a-brother-to-die ones, but a real one.” He nodded his head like any of that was realistic. “Definitely not just some wizard who works in a bookstore.”

“She’s just some wizard who works in a bookstore, though.”

There was no getting through to Jim. “Think about it guys, my sister, suddenly getting cozy with a magic man? Bushigal. She’s under a spell. I’m going to fight him.”

“No, no you’re not,” Claire asserted, “You’re going to have lunch like we planned AND you’re going to be civil.” Claire and Toby both grabbed one of his arms and dragged him towards the bistro.

***

The hostess guided them to the table. Claire sat across from Jim and Toby. They were handed the menus. Claire showed interest in the lunch specials while Toby flipped to the sandwiches. Jim just brooded while he stared unblinking into the first page. And by chance, and by the fact that this scene would be boring and or pointless if not, Douxie was the waiter for said table. After handing off the check to one of his other tables, he waltzed over to the trio, happy to see his protégé.

“Ello lads, how’s it going? How’d that test go today, Claire?” Douxie ruffled her hair. Jim narrowed his eyes at the sight.

“Horrible! I bombed it for sure!”

Toby rolled his eyes, “You say that about every test, Claire, and then it turns out you aced them.”

“No I mean it this time, TP. I didn’t even finish the last three questions. It was so bad!”

“Yeah, okay, I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Douxie chuckled. Oh to have the problems of these youngsters. Claire and Toby got into some sort of glare match where they both just made more and more aggressive funny faces at each other. Both finally conceded and they fell into giggles. Douxie was glad to see Claire having so much fun, but he noticed someone else at the table who was not having said fun. His apprentice Claire’s boyfriend, his master’s champion, and his darling Y/n’s brother, looking like his dog ate his homework, or whatever teenagers got angry about these days.

“Cheer up, lad.” Doux grinned at Jim, “Hangry? I get that. You look like you could use a good meal.”

“Well strangely I am in a cafe”

Claire kicked Jim under the table. He tried his best to stifle the grunt of pain. “Don’t mind Jim, he’s a tad grumpy from a bad training session. And we’ll take waters all around.” She smiled. Doux hurried off to go get their glasses.

In the end, Toby couldn’t pick a sandwich. He had three favorites and couldn’t decide between them yet. Jim and Claire had his back. They both got one of them and he got the third. Then they would all share the halves. A good plan. And it was a delicious one. Toby was thankful for his partners.

***

After finishing up training and walking Claire home, Jim and Toby went their separate ways. Toby had promised his Nana he’d go with her and her boyfriend to see a play in the next town over. Jim had promised his mother he’d be home for a family dinner. He wasn’t able to be home in time to cook, so this was going to be a roulette wheel when it came to food. He was betting on Y/n. As he came to the front door, he cracked it first and smelled the air before going inside as to make sure his candid reaction wouldn’t be bad. The aroma coming from the house was heavenly. Alright, Y/n. Jackpot.

Jim swung the door open wide as he strutted in. Everyone was in the kitchen, it looked like. He put his bag up and called to his family that he was home. Which was met with the two voices he had expected, but one he hadn’t. And it was a voice he didn’t want to hear right now. Douxie. Hisirdoux fucking Casperan. In his house. In his kitchen. In his territory.

Jim immediately felt his muscles tense up. He took a deep breath and put on his best fake smile before heading into the kitchen. Y/n was sautéing something over the stove. Barbara was stirring something which meant that she had insisted on helping and Y/n had done the equivalent of giving your younger sibling a game controller that wasn’t plugged in. The offending wizard was leaning over the bar counter from the other side, chatting away as if he had any reason to be here.

Once Y/n caught sight of Jim, she bubbled. “Jim! How was hiking? You three have fun?” she knew where he actually spent his Saturdays but they had to keep up the rouse for their mom. While Y/n particularly didn’t care for the lying, she also agreed with Jim that some things are best kept from worrisome mothers. Barbara gave her enough shit already for her frequent homecomings from bars and shows in the wee hours of the morning with scrapes and bruises. If their mother knew about Jim’s marginally more dangerous late-night escapades, she might actually have a nervous breakdown.

“Oh yeah, it was great. We saw a deer. It had a baby with it.”

“Majestic.” She turned and gestured to the man at the counter, “You remember Douxie, right?”

“Of course,” Jim said through gritted teeth forced into a smile. “In fact we just saw each other at the bistro earlier today.”

A timer went off. Y/n expressed her delight that something in the oven was done. Barb got some plates out of the cabinet, while Y/n pulled the main course out of the oven. She handed Jim the plates and silverware and sent him to go set the table. Jim supposed this was better than having to talk to Douxie. Until Douxie insisted on helping him. Great.

“So, Jim, I’ve heard a lot about you-”

“I’m sure you have.” Jim cut him off. Douxie was a bit confused, but figured he was still grumpy like he was earlier at the bistro. He’d leave the moody teen alone then. Perhaps he be in a better mood after getting some food in him and spending time with his family. Doux would try for conversation again then.

Jim did not get any less grumpy, to Douxie’s dismay. And Y/n’s. Y/n really needed both her family members to like her boyfriend. They were all each other had, and any strife would put a strain on their tiny closely-knit family unit. Y/n loved Douxie, and she wanted Jim and Barbara to love him to. To accept him. It would help put a validity to her feelings. If they liked him then she had made the right choice. She could never be with someone her loved ones hated. And as a bonus, it would be nice if she could give Douxie the family he never had. He deserved as much.

Luckily, Barbara had taken quite a liking to Arcadia’s most charming waiter. Jim however, was subtly hostile. Or at least he thought he was being subtle. It was very apparent to the other three at the table. As Douxie was animatedly telling Barb some story that she was laughing very hard at, Y/n turned to glare at her brother. Jim tried to feign innocence. Y/n rolled her eyes and put some more salad on her plate. Jim noticed the bracelet on her wrist. Funny, she had never been one for jewelry before. But she started wearing this one everyday right around the time she started working at the bookstore. Interesting.

Douxie finished up his story and turned his attention to Jim. He’d try once again to engage the trollhunter. He knew how important this was to Y/n. Douxie was going to make this little man like him if it was the last thing he did.

“I saw the school play you were in a couple weeks ago, Jim. You were quite the actor, and I know Shakespeare’s tough. Have you ever thought of going into it professionally? Claire’s told me she wants to. You two could be one of those celebrity power couples.”

Jim just offered a short thanks that was less hostile but not exactly enthusiastic either. Well, at least Doux was getting somewhere. It’s a start. Y/n was content with this. Jim would warm up to Douxie eventually. It didn’t have to be right away, even if she would have liked that.

After the dinner conversation had died down and the food long gone, Y/n set out to clear the table and clean the kitchen. Barbara also went to help her, but Douxie assured her he’d take care of it. He was a world class waiter after all. He stacked up the plates as Y/n grabbed the dinner dishes. And so the two set off to the world behind the wall, to clean or canoodle or whatever. Jim wasn’t too keen on thinking about it. His mother pulled him into the living room to sit on the couch and preceded to ask him twenty questions about Claire. He was almost happy when the lovebirds came back.

And then his mother made them all play some card game for three hours straight. All while the lovebirds flirted away right in front of them. It was like they had no shame. This guy just had to have Y/n under a spell or something, Jim was sure of it. There was no other explanation. As she giggled at another one of Douxie’s stupid jokes that weren’t even funny, Jim felt sick.

Finally it came time for that douchebag to leave. Jim rolled his eyes at his mother and sister fawning over Doux as he made his way to the door. He slinked over behind them to watch the guy leave and make sure that he left. As Douxie went through the door he gave Y/n a quick peck and said the stupidest line Jim had ever heard. Who does this guy think he is. Once the door was shut and Doux had indeed walked away, Jim scoffed.

“Bet that guy has a bank of pickup lines he’s memorized. There’s no way he came up with that on the fly.”

***

Jim was furious. He fought like a madman during training. Draal was just making it worse by encouraging it; he really liked the kid’s fire today. Draal had no idea what was up with him right now, but Jim was giving it his all. The trollhunter was rarely this aggressive. Blinky looked on as Jim growled and shouted with every strike. He hadn’t seen his son frothing at the mouth like this before. It was glorious. Keep this up and Angor Rot won’t know what hit him.

Claire and Toby were also training, with Arrggh, albeit with not even half as much gusto as Jimbo. They were also a wee bit distracted, trying to wind Jim down from said gusto. He came over to where they were to get some water. Taking this opportunity, Toby tried appealing to him once again.

“Dude, give it a rest, this is just like how you got all pissy about your mom dating Strickler.” Toby was exasperated.

“Y/n can’t date guys, my mother can’t date guys, no men should be frequently invited into our household! No boys allowed! Me and Toby are the only boys allowed!” Jim growled. He stormed off across the keep to go land another hit on Draal.

Blinky blinked. He was taken aback at the hostility from his charge. “So, do either of you have any idea as to what that was about.”

“Right now the winning theory is that this is like, about how heartbroken his mother was when his dad left, so now he doesn’t want that to happen again or something,” Claire sighed. Her teacher really was a good guy. Lonely too. Just like Y/n. They were going to be good for each other. Her boyfriend should be happy for them. Jim took a particularly dirty swipe at Draal. Toby grunted in sympathy. “Or maybe Douxie just poked Arcadia’s most possessive bear.”

***

Jim and Toby were walking downtown, enjoying their free time after a trollhunting mission on this fine Sunday afternoon. That is, until they came in sight of the bookstore. Jim felt that bitter feeling in his stomach again. He knew Y/n wasn’t working today. Douchey would be all alone. Now was his chance to confront this and end it before it got any worse. Toby noticed the malice in his eyes as he stomped towards the bookstore.

“Woah dude, what’re you doing?”

“I’m just going to have a little chat with Mr. Casperan that’s all.”

Toby threw his head back in exasperation. “There no talking you out of this is there?”

“Nope”

The bell jingled as they walked in. The bookshop smelled like Christmas. And Jim was about to try and talk politics with his racist uncle at the dinner table. Douxie came over and greeted them cheerily.

“Good afternoon, lads. Looking for any book in particular?”

“I’m not a part of this. I just happen to be with him physically.” Toby quickly asserted. Douxie quirked a brow at the odd statement. Jim pushed forward aggressively. Doux had the sense to back away from the boy.

“I’m onto you, wizard. Just what did you do to my sister? Did you slip her a love potion? Is that bracelet she’s been wearing charmed?” Jim growled. Toby cringed on the sidelines.

Douxie blinked. “Excuse me?”

“There’s no other explanation for your ‘relationship’. You’ve got to be magicking her. And I won’t just sit here and let it happen. That’s my sister and it’s my job to protect her from creeps like you.”

Douxie took in the boys words, and a deep breath. He tried his best not to sound too defensive and provoke the kid further, “Okay, wow. That’s quite an accusation there, friend.” He moved away from where the boy had backed him into a bookshelf. “You know, out of all that you just implied, the part I think I’m most offended by is the fact that you’d think I’d mess with Y/n’s free will like that.”

Douxie straightened some books on a nearby display. “You know Jim, when it comes to love-” Jim stormed out of the bookstore before Doux could take his lecture any further, grabbing Toby by the arm so he’d follow. Toby mouthed a big ‘I’m sorry’ to Doux as he was pulled out of the store.

***

Jim’s pencil felt abused. He was furiously scribbling the answers to his homework with a heavy hand. He still had a lot of pent up rage, even after accosting poor Doux. After snapping his lead for the seventh time in the hour, Jim decided that switching subjects to Spanish instead of math for a bit might help him calm down. He moved to his bed to start the assigned reading. He laid on his stomach, propping up his head in his hands to see his textbook. His blue eyes perused the paragraphs punctuated by cheesy cartoons. He was halfway through the third page when a knock came at his door. Taking a deep breath, he called for whoever it was to let themselves in. His sister stepped into view.

Jim ran a hand through his dark hair. Here comes the scolding. He didn’t even have to ask if Y/n had heard about what he’d done today. If Douxie himself hadn’t told her then Tobes certainly did. Jim wasn’t proud of it, now that it was all said and done. He knew he deserved whatever Y/n was about to dish out. He sat up and crisscrossed his legs. She pulled his desk chair over and sat backwards in it so that she was facing him on the bed.

That’s it. No scolding came. She just sat and looked at him, neutral faced. He squirmed at the nothing. She lifted up the coffee mug in her hands and took a slow sip, not breaking eye contact with him. Jim began to sweat. He tried to avoid her gaze by looking down at the floor, but he could still feel her eyes upon him. Sighing, he had to admit defeat.

“Okay, so I do feel bad about what I said to Douxie today.” He looked back up to meet Y/n’s eyes. She raised a brow. “It was wrong of me to jump to conclusions like that, I’m sorry.”

Y/n appeared to be satisfied by that. A smile spread across her face and she nodded to him. She stood up, and ruffled his hair on her way out. Still refusing to break her silence, she motioned for him to follow her downstairs.

***

Y/n set her coffee cup down on the table. She pulled another mug out of the cabinet for Jim. Grabbing the coffee pot from its nest under the coffeemaker, she filled Jim’s mug and topped off her own. Sliding the mug across the table to Jim, she sat down. Jim could smell the aromas of the several colorful dishes baking that he could see through the screen of the oven door. Strange, it was already half past nine. There was cinnamon in the air, so at least one of those dishes contained dessert. Jim’s stomach growled at the thought.

“You know I’m not the one you should have to apologize to, Jimbo.”

“I know, I know,” He looked at the ground, “I’ll go talk to him tomorrow after school.”

Silence filled the kitchen again. Y/n took a sip of coffee. This conversation was going to be hard. She wasn’t particularly looking forward to it. She opened her mouth to speak, but stopped. She took yet another long sip of coffee to figure out a good enough way to word this. She took a breath.

“So, uh- listen Jimbo. I- I know it’s tough, ya know, with it just being us. And our family’s tight because of it. But you can’t get so protective that new people can’t join it. Or even try.”

Jim took a breath, “I know it’s just, I-, what happens when we, when you, get so attached to him, and he decides that he doesn’t care for you anymore. When he turns out to be bad. When he just disappears. Like- like they do.”

“Oh, Jim,” She reached across the table for his hand. “That’s my risk to take, Jim. I fully recognize that what I’m doing is hazardous and I could get hurt really bad. But I still chose to do it. I choose it every day. We all do, when we fall in love.”

Jim took a sip and lingered, staring into his cup. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” He chuckled, “I know I’d be devastated if Claire ever wizened up and left me.”

“Look, you gotta trust me okay? Douxie isn’t dad or Strickler. I promise. He’s kind. I trust him. After you apologize, I think you really should start to make an effort to get to know him. If not for me, for Claire dude. And I think you’ll really like him. Promise you’ll give him a chance?”

Jim sighed in defeat. “Alright. I promise.”

She stood up and stretched out her back, making those stretching noises that people do. She checked the food in the oven. The buns were ready, but the quiche still needed a few minutes. She took out the pans and put them on the cooling rack. After fanning them for a few seconds, she turned to Jim, “So you want a spinach bun or a cinnamon bun?”

“How is that a question?” Jim laughed.

“Spinach bun it is then,” She teased as she tossed him the cinnamon one.

“What’s all this for anyway?” He gestured to the oven and the buns.

“Oh, uh, its actually for a date tonight?” She looked warry of how he’d react.

“Okay,” He guessed now would be as good a time as ever to start letting this go, “You crazy kids have fun.” Y/n laughed, relived.

Douxie had just finished up the sweeping and was ready to close up. As he headed to towards the front doors, he took one last look around the place to make sure he didn’t miss anything. All clean and tidy. Whoever opened tomorrow would appreciate it. He flipped the neon sign from open to nope and started locking up. Which is when his girlfriend pounced on him and almost gave him a heart attack. She just appeared out of thin air to tackle him into a hug. Scared the living daylights out of him. Y/n apologized profusely when she noticed him freak out but was still snickering between sorries so she probably didn’t mean it. He asked her just what the hell she was doing here and she picked up a picnic basket that was on the ground to show him.

“I just knew a certain wizard hadn’t eaten yet tonight.”

***

Y/n felt the ground beneath her back through the picnic blanket. The new spring growth had made them a cushion of sorts. Her head rested in the crook of Douxie’s shoulder as his arm was wrapped around her. It was nice here. Comfy. She could smell his hair and feel his chest move as he breathed. Their heartbeats made a nice rhythm to accompany the cricket song and the noise of the trees swaying. The stars were so lovely tonight. Stellar.

Douxie broke the quiet. “So I brushed up on my astrology.”

“Oh yeah?” Y/n quirked her brow. Astrology was one of her biggest interests. She’d loved it since her grandmother had given her a book about it when she was small. It was a well-worn, well-loved book. Her grandmother had handwritten things in the margins too. She’d been talking Douxie’s ears off about it during work earlier that week. Something was just so fascinating about how there were gorgeous balls of light in the sky that could tell you the future. There really was magic embedded in the fabric of the universe. It was sweet that he would care enough to learn about her interests. Very sweet indeed. The fact that he went out of his way just so he could talk to her about something she loved? Tooth-rotting. She wasn’t sure if her heart sped up because she was excited to talk about astrology or because of the sugar rush he just gave her.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve needed to look at constellations, we do have GPS now, but I think I remember enough,” He pointed to the sky, “That’s Pisces, right?”

“Yes!” Y/n couldn’t stop herself from smiling so wide her cheeks hurt.

“And that’s Aries, which marks the beginning of spring,” He looked back at Y/n who nodded to him, “oh, and look! We can see Venus tonight.”

“Hey Douxie, I love you. And You’re really making me want to kiss you right now.”

He chuckled and wiggled his eyes brows teasingly, “Ah, yes, I am aware of the effect I have.” She rolled her eyes and put her hand on his face to push him away. If he saw the blush creeping up on her, he’d just get flirtier. She wasn’t sure she could handle that. Something caught her eye and instantly stole her attention.

“Look! A shooting star! Make a wish Doux.” She pointed to the streak of light that flashed.

“I don’t need wishes when I’m here with you, Love.” If her face was pink before it was bright red now.

Y/n hid her face in her hands, “No! You were supposed to say something silly,” She came back up to look him in the eyes, “not something that makes me want to kiss you even more.”

He leaned his head in closer, “Well, what’s stopping you, Y/n”

Well, that was obviously a dare. She couldn’t not kiss him now. So she did. They melted into it instantly. At first it was sweet and slow, but they got a bit hungrier, and the kiss got a bit sloppier. Douxie smelled like the bookstore, Y/n loved the smell of the bookstore. It was everything safe in her life. He was everything safe in her life. Her best friend. He brought his hand up to cup her cheek. He loved how her lips just fit together with his perfectly. Y/n Lake was everything he’d been waiting for all these years. Soft and kind, with such a beautiful heart. Not to mention, a badass. Yet, even with all his ancient baggage, she still cared for him. Made him feel like new again. Out of all the wizards of Arcadia Oaks, she chose him. He still couldn’t believe it. They pulled apart way sooner than either of them wanted, but they did have to breathe, so it had to be done. Locked in Douxie’s gaze, Y/n broke the intensity to giggle.

“But really, I was setting you up for a joke. You know what you could have done with that, Doux?” She teased.

“I’ll remember that for next time, Love.”

“Ah, they’re super rare. This is the first time I’ve ever seen one in all my stargazing years.”

“Well, we’ve got plenty of time to see the next one. And the next one. All the shooting stars you want. Only seeing them every few decades could make them a special little thing for us.” He said so nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t just implied that he expected their love to last for countless decades. As if it were a given. Suddenly it hit her. She could live thousands of years by his side. She would live thousands of years by his side. This was it. She wasn’t even sure humans could turn this vivid a shade of red. Y/n’s heart was gonna pop if it beat any harder.

“Stars, are you just hellbent on making me combust tonight? It too hot out here for this.” Douxie just laughed, a twinkle in his eye. She focused on her beloved stars to calm her down. She sighed, “The stars really are beautiful tonight.”

“You know what else is beautiful?”

“Me?”

“You- aww, you’ve heard that one.”

Y/n’s snort rung in the air. So, he does just have a bank of pick-up lines he’s pulling from. Interesting. Guess it must be tough having to be Arcadia’s most charming waiter. They stilled again. The comfortable silence embraced them. And they could have basked in it all night, if Douxie had not a burning question he had been waiting to ask his beloved.

“So- uh,” She looked to him expectedly, “Do you think there’s life out there?”

Y/n tried not to laugh too hard with Douxie’s very serious tone, “Yeah, yeah I do.”

Now it was Douxie’s turn to smile so wide his cheeks hurt. “Really?”

“Yeah,” She said, “I think it’d be kinda arrogant to assume that with all that vastness up there that we’re the only ones who exist.”

“That’s a really good point.” Douxie said excitedly. He pulled her tighter into his embrace and snuggled. “I think I’m going to use that on Zoe next time she tries to tell me that I’m crazy and aliens aren’t real.”

“Yeah Babe! Win that argument!” Y/n encouraged.

She peppered his face with kisses. That big smile stayed on his face as he closed his eyes in delight. He repaid her with a nose kiss. And she repaid that by starting another snogging session.

***

Little did they know that shoot star was really aliens akiriddion spaceship crash 3below wait shit the akiriddions landed in like season two and ive set this in one ugh just pretend like this makes sense hfhadhiufs

#douxie x reader #hisirdoux casperan x reader #hisirdoux x reader #douxie imagine #douxie casperan x reader #hisirdoux casperan imagine #hisirdoux casperan #douxie casperan imagine #lake!reader #toa douxie #douxie #douxie casperan #my writing