#whenever he wants tea he just says that want out loud and it gets brought to him by magic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cupidsdolll · 3 months

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𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; best friend!harry x fem!reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲; time apart helps both Harry and Y/N learn more about themselves and their feelings.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 3.1k

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; slight angst? i’m pretty sure that’s it!

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬; hi hello! here’s the long awaited part two! part one is linked here for anyone who hasn’t read it yet! i hope you all like it <3

- - - -

Heartbreak is always one of the worst pains, but Harry thinks the absence of someone that’s been in your life for as long as you can remember hurts worse. It’s been a week since Y/N said she needed space after confessing her feelings for him and he’s just miserable. He’s not as happy as he normally is, and it seems as if everything reminds him of her. Even the things his girlfriend Liv does reminds him of his best friend, he’s found himself comparing the two.

He doesn’t mean any harm honestly, just sometimes Liv will do something and his mind will go back to how Y/N would do the same thing just differently. For instance, Liv is on her way to bring him some tea in hope it’ll cheer him up at least just a little bit, Harry’s excited to try her tea. It’s one of his favorite drinks if he’s being honest. A knock comes from the door and he tells his roommate that he’ll get it, he’s already standing up and making his way to the door. When he opens it, Liv is standing in front of him sporting a bright smile and happiness.

“Hi, hon. I brought you that tea I was talking about!” She says and he smiles back, a little hesitant but excited nonetheless.

“Thanks, babe. Come on in, I hope you don’t mind that my roommate’s here.” He says and she shakes her head, his mate’s never been a problem with Liz, the one thing he notices is different from Y/N. Liz is more natural hanging around in the boys’ dorm whereas Y/N tended to not want to come over. Something about the smell and how loud the halls are, he doesn’t blame her most of the time though. Liz walks over and makes herself comfortable on the arm rest of the chair Harry was sitting at before, ushering him over excitedly. He chuckles as he makes his way over, reminding him of how Y/N would act whenever she’s excited to show him something.

He sits down and she hands the cup to him, it's warm but not too hot, he’s assuming the walk here helped cool it down. He takes a hesitant sip, he doesn’t want to take too big of a sip just in case he doesn’t like it. It’s good, sweet but still has that leafy taste and it flows nicely. It’s not overwhelming with any of the tastes and it’s just.. good. He smiles as he stares at the cup, his mind wandering back to Y/N. He always enjoyed her tea, she always managed to create the perfect balance and temperature. Y/N makes the perfect tea, will always be better than anyone’s, better than Liz’s.

He shouldn’t be thinking about Y/N right now though, so he blinks twice to clear his head and turns to his girlfriend.

“It’s good, thank you. I appreciate you doing this for me, I know you didn’t have to.” He says and she just laughs.

“I know, I wanted to, H. It’s no big deal really.” She says. He feels bad, ever since he and Y/N stopped talking as much, he’s found himself comparing the way Liz cooks and acts to Y/N.

Y/N likes to wear more cozy clothes unless it’s actually going out, where she feels like she needs to impress someone whereas Liz tends to dress up all the time. She’s always dressed in nice looking clothes and adorned in jewelry and smells nice. He likes that Y/N always felt comfortable with him and didn’t feel the need to impress him, not that he doesn’t like that Liz puts forth all this effort into her looks because he does. Whenever he and Liz go to watch a movie, she normally wants to watch something with romance but occasionally she’ll tell Harry to turn on whatever he wants if she’s coming over for a nap.

Y/N usually put on a comedy movie and sometimes they ended up being a rom-com but they always alternate days so Harry can feel included. He misses that, he misses Y/N. He’s not sure if they’ll ever talk again, he thinks her dramatics are rubbing off on him. He just hates the absence of her, he never realized just how happy she made him feel. She made him feel warm and sometimes he’s got those silly butterflies whenever he looks at her, but he just assumed that was normal for how close of a friendship they had. He never realized just how much time they spent together, how special she was and how different from his other love interests he’s had.

But he’s never considered Y/N as a love interest, she’s always just been his best friend. Sure enough, he did like to flirt with her a little bit whenever he was drunk but that was only because he liked seeing her all flustered. He thought it was cute and it was hard for him to get her like that. Yeah, he loved her but in the same way friends love each other, it’s normal for them to say it before leaving or just because. They’ve always been just friends, the best of friends and that’s how they were supposed to be.

He feels a tap on his shoulder, a soft touch to bring him out of his mind, he’s been doing that almost daily.

“You’re thinking about her again, Haz. Can’t we just hang out without her taking your attention? This is good, it allows you to be your own person now.” Liz says sweetly, genuinely. She tries to be supportive, she really does but there’s just so long you can watch your boyfriend be heartbroken over a girl, especially one he never dated. They haven’t even been dating long, but they had only been dating for a couple of days before Harry told her she had to meet his best friend. Ever since Y/N shut the door on them and he had ushered her back so he could try to talk to his best friend and figure everything out with tears beginning to fill his eyes, it’s just been a repeat of the same days over and over again.

- - - -

When Harry walks the halls, he can’t help but to hope that he’ll be able to see Y/N on her way to class. He admits that it’s weird not walking her to class and being around her, it was their norm for quite a while. A part of him hopes that when he sees her that she’s just as miserable as him but he feels bad about that, he wants her to be happy. He wants to see that she’s doing well and that she’s happy. He always loved to see her happy, it just looked so good on her. So when he sees her sporting a bright smile as she talks with two people he hasn’t seen before, it makes his heart skip a beat and hurt a little at the same time. He’s happy that she’s doing well, he really is, it just hurts that he’s not the cause of the bright smile on her face.

He hopes that she’ll look over here so he can wave, just a small acknowledgment would hold him over he thinks. The halls are crowded and loud, he can’t help but to sigh as he accidentally bumps into someone. She always had this magnetic aura to her, always had his gaze being pulled to her. Ever since she called for a break, she’s all he’s ever been able to think about, the main thing he looks at and for. He wants even the smallest attention from her, it helps the pain in his heart.

He watches as her head turns just the slightest and their eyes meet, a warm feeling enveloping Harry as he smiles and waves at her. She just gives him the same smile she’s always given him, warm, friendly and loving, and waves back. The pain goes away leaving a happy feeling in his chest, he doesn’t feel bad about bumping into students in the hall. He watches as she walks away before making his way to his own class.

- - - -

Y/N doesn’t miss Harry as much as she thought she would. That’s a lie, she misses him terribly but after a couple of days moping and several streams of tears shed, she thinks she’s doing okay. He stays on her mind but she’s able to tune those memories out by doing the activities she likes. She joined some book club on campus and made a couple of friends that enjoy some of the same stuff she does, which is such a relief. While Harry listened and tried his best to participate in things she enjoyed but some stuff he just never got into the way she did.

The past week she’s been attending the book club and talking about the books they’re reading, she’s cut back on some of the stuff she used to do. She dropped out of two of her classes that she did just for fun and stopped volunteering every week to give herself more time to relax. She walks with them to class when she can, and they talk on the phone sometimes. She’s happy for the most part, happier than she thought she would be.

Don’t get her wrong, she still gets upset over the fact that Harry isn’t around all of the time, it’s usually late at night or early in the morning when she misses him the most. She misses him when his favorite song plays and when she sees him in the hallway. She feels bad then, seeing him all heartbroken and moping around. She’s never seen him so down, and she wishes she never said anything to begin with in those moments. She hates the fact that he’s heartbroken over her.

She’s happy for the break, as much time as the two spent together, the break allows her a chance to know who she is outside of Harry. She’s found ways to cope with this ache for him, playing songs he’s never heard before distracts her from thinking of him. Finding new books to read, new shows to watch. Not letting her look at him for too long whenever they pass each other in the halls, hide his clothes (minus the one hoodie she sleeps

in, she can’t bear to part with it because after all it’s not a complete end to the friendship.

She spends a little (a lot) of time telling herself that just being friends is okay, her feelings will go away and they’ll go back to being best friends. She knows they won’t go back to being where they were before she confessed, but hopefully it’ll be somewhat the same as before. She hopes with everything in her that she’ll be able to get over her feelings for him in a reasonable time, and doesn't want to drag this out any longer than what’s needed. She’ll remind herself when she starts thinking of him randomly, when she sees a picture of them in her phone. They always should’ve been best friends, nothing more and nothing less. That’s how the universe wanted them to be.

Everything was fine the way they were, now she has to get over her feelings for him in order to get him back. She sees him everywhere it seems, hard to avoid him even though she doesn’t necessarily want to, in the halls at school or passing by on the sidewalks. She’s nice to him, doesn’t want to make him feel even more upset. She can feel his eyes on her every time, a tingling feeling on the back of her neck before she turns around to face him.

She’s met with the same hurt expression, his eyes full of emotion and telling her how much he misses her. He waves subtly as if he doesn’t think she’ll see it, won’t want to see it but of course she does. She always sees it, how could she not see it when anytime they’re in proximity of each other gems all she’s able to look at. Of course she waves, even gives him a warm smile, one that has and always will be reserved just for him. She still wants to be friendly with him, to keep that door open for the two of them and their friendship.

They don’t really talk other than saying hi as they pass one another in the halls, or if they happen to need to copy notes. They got partnered once after everything, a sense of awkwardness filled the air between them and Y/N hated it. Hated that she felt like she didn’t know what to talk about, didn’t know what limits were with this weird boundary set by her. She feels like she should know, she should’ve known since she was the one who drew the line.

Their conversations were awkward and pointed, pain lingering in their voices as they mentally decided not to talk about anything personal. It’s better that way honestly, it keeps her from breaking and allowing him back when she knows she’s not ready. The wall built between them shows her just how much he’s hurting, shows her how much she hurt him. She never meant to hurt him, she knew breaking it off would cause a toll on him. She never thought it would be as bad as it is, never expected to see the bags forming under his eyes.

She never expected him to be so…torn up about it, to cave in on himself and go quiet. She can feel his eyes on her all of the time, and can see whenever he fights back tears. She watches as Liz tries to cheer him up, hugs him and runs her fingers through his hair. She watches as Liz brings him cups of whatever drink is in them, watches as he thanks her with a smile that doesn’t meet his eyes. She thought that maybe he’d continue partying like he always did, ignore her or something of the sort. He should be giving all of his attention to Liz, not moping on about losing her. His mind just always seems to be elsewhere, his gaze is always sad and unfocused.

- - - -

Two months later the two are doing just fine on their own. Y/N found out from a classmate that’s on Harry’s soccer team that Harry had broken up with Liz about a month ago. They wouldn’t say why they broke up and Y/N wasn’t going to be the one to ask. The two of them have gotten more friendly with one another, there’s no awkwardness whenever they’re paired up and they’ll sometimes sit together at lunch. Y/N thinks she’s able to be his friend again, and doesn't get the intense butterflies in her stomach whenever she looks at him.

She doesn’t want to kiss him as much as she used to, although the urge still comes up whenever she thinks he’s being the cutest boy ever. She decides to bring it up as they sit together during lunch.

“Hey, Harry?” She asks and he hums in response to her.

“I think I’m ready to be your friend again.” She asks and watches as his face lights up. His eyes brighten and a huge smile appears on his face.

“Really?” His voice is full of excitement and she smiles as she nods.

“Yeah, I think so.” He immediately wraps her in a hug and she melts into it.

“I missed you, honey.” He says and she smiles as she responds.

“I missed you too, Haz.” He squeezes her tighter, as if he wants to remember the feeling of her body pressed against his.

“Those three months without you were absolutely horrible. I want to apologize again for leading you on unintentionally, but these three months have shown me something.” He says as he pulls away.

She stares at him confused, he’s already apologized numerous times so she’s not sure what else needs to be said.

“What’s that?” She asks and he smiles.

“I can’t imagine a life without you by my side. I missed you so much and hated not being able to just come over and talk to you. I like you. I’m sorry for not realizing it sooner and I know it’s a terrible time to say it now that you’re back in my life. It’s perfectly okay if you don’t feel the same way anymore, but if you do I’d love to ask you out and take you out properly.” He says and she almost wants to scream.

She spent so much time getting over him and now he just wants to spring his feelings on her now? She thinks the whole situation is absolutely absurd and the two of them have terrible timing of their feelings. She sighs tiredly as she stares at him.

“When did you figure this out, you dummy?” She asks and he shakes his head, as if he’s in disbelief.

“Uh like a month and a half ago, I think? I’m not quite sure when exactly it happened. All I know I spent my whole relationship with Liz comparing her to you and I missed you entirely too much to ever risk losing you again. The whole like high school years up until three months ago, we acted like a couple unknowingly. I know we just labeled it best friends, but normal best friends don’t act like we did. I’m sorry once again,” Harry says as he watches her in hopes he’ll be able to read her.

She just smiles softly at him, her eyes so full of emotions that it’s hard to read which ones are in them.

“You better be glad my feelings for you didn’t go away completely. Yes you can take me out, Harry. It’s okay, I’ve missed you too.” She says and immediately his hands make his way to her face and he slowly begins to move closer. He wants to allow her time to say no, to change her mind but it never comes and he smiles briefly before their lips meet in a soft tender kiss. A kiss so full of love and warmth, making up for all the years missed and tears she cried unknowingly. It fills both of them with happiness as she giggles into the kiss and pulls away.

“Does that mean I can call you my boyfriend now?” She asks and he nods.

“Baby, you can call me anything you want now,” He says and she laughs, a mischievous flickers passes through her eyes.

“Even my best friend?” He immediately shakes his head and laughs.

“Anything but that.”

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry edward styles #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles fan fic #harry styles au #harry styles fanfic #harry #harrystyles #harry styles oneshot #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #best friend!harry #my writing

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givemea-dam-break · 1 year

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hello my love <3 can i request fluff with lockwood where y/n is sick and she also has injury on her hand (something like lucy's maybe?) and when lockwood wants to clean it she's not happyy about that 'cause she only wants to sleep and he's like "i'm your fully qualified doctor, remember? you have to listen to me, love", btw i absolutely adore your stories, keep writing cause you're amazingg, mwah <3

a/n: of course!!! domestic lockwood is the best in my humble opinion. and im so glad you like my stuff so much, love you my dear <3 also taking this as an opportunity to apologise for the terrible titles for most of my fics i spend ages thinking but can never think of something good lmao

warnings: minor injury detail gn reader

Perfect - Anthony Lockwood

The library is the warmest room in the house, and by far your favourite, so it's no surprise when Lockwood finds you there, curled up on your designated armchair close to dozing. He smiles at you as he steps in, carrying a tray of something or other that he places down on the little coffee table before sitting in his armchair.

There's something about him today that makes you want to laugh. Maybe it's the way he's been mothering you all day because you're ill. Maybe it's the lack of Anthony Lockwood professionalism he has today, what with his crinkled hoodie and pink fluffy socks - aren't those the ones George has been looking for? He's so unlike his usual self today, but also inadvertently just like himself. A walking anomaly.

"How are you feeling now?" he asks quietly, as if your ears may explode if he speaks too loud. "Any better?"

"No better than I did seven minutes ago," you say with a laugh. "Lockwood, you don't have to keep a constant eye on me. You've got things to do."

"One of which being to take care of you," he says. "Which reminds me, are you finally going to let me take a look at that cut on your arm? It needs cleaning."

"I trust you with my life, but I do not trust you with the first aid kit. You'll shove half a tube of Germaline on it. Besides, I want to go to sleep, and here is cosier than my room."

He gives you a look, but it's halfhearted. "You can sleep once I've cleaned it. I've brought you some of your favourite biscuits and a brew in return."

You lift your head from where it had laid on your arms. "Doesn't sound like a very fair trade for you."

"Ah, I'll cope."

"Well, it doesn't hurt anymore. I'm sure it's healed amazingly and then I'll be back to my wonderful self in no time."

"I'm not leaving until I've at least taken a look at it. Then after that, you can have your tea and go to sleep." His grin is dazzling then. It's the kind he always uses when he's trying to get his way. "I'm your fully qualified doctor, remember? You've got to listen to me."

If you could be bothered, you could push for him to leave you in peace, but your head feels like it's full of water and you want to go to sleep. So, begrudgingly, you shift so that your arm hangs over the armrest of your chair.

The gentleness of Lockwood's hands as he takes your arm and slowly, carefully peels off the plaster you haphazardly placed on shocks you. His fingers are soft, holding your arm as if it's a delicate thing that could break at any moment.

He takes a minute to just look at the gash on your forearm. It's no longer than your index finger, cutting diagonally across halfway up, and it's still oozing some blood. The plaster is covered in it, and he deftly throws it into the bin before taking his little first aid kit from the tray he brought in. Its original purpose was for you to use it on him whenever he got banged up on cases, which was more often than not, but there's something strangely special about him using it on you now. It makes you feel a little giddy.

"You got this from a glass door, right?"

You're acutely aware of his touch as he shifts his grip so as to clean the cut. "Yeah. George knocked me into it by accident. I'm surprised this is all I got out of it."

His reply comes in the form of a quiet hum. As he cautiously cleans the wound, you watch as his brows furrow a little with concentration, creasing a little line between them, and his top lip twitches a little bit. A little quirk, you've noticed, when he's particularly invested in something. Usually, it's the latest gossip rag, in which he always loses sight of the real world, but now it's you. A small flutter arises in your chest.

He wipes over a small part of the gash, and you suck in a sharp breath. The sound makes him falter, the wipe hovering an inch above your skin as he looks up at you.

For a moment, then, you forget about the pain. Through his thick lashes, his eyes are brimmed with worry and apologies, but after insistence that you're fine, he continues to clean the fresh blood away.

"Let me put the cream on the plaster," you murmur. "You'll put way too much on."

He smiles. "Who's the qualified doctor here?"

"In all honesty, Skull is probably better at this kind of thing than you are."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that."

"Do."

But, even still, he passes you the tube of Germaline and a long plaster. A moment later, you pass it back, and with delicate hands, he places it over the gash. It stings a little, and you hiss at the sudden cold, but the feelings are gone before the minute is even over.

"Perfect," he says with a soft, private smile. "All sorted."

His hand lingers, still holding your arm, and you suddenly feel more awake than ever. It's as if the tiredness has just melted away into the cushions of the armchair and down into the floor with only his touch, and you yearn for him to not let go. To stay exactly where he is.

And, as if having read your mind, he does.

If someone were to walk in, the scene would be strange. You, curled up in your seat with your arm hanging over the armrest, head resting on your own shoulder, and Lockwood, holding your arm as if it's some valuable thing, and simply looking at you with those expressive eyes of his.

"How do you feel?" he asks. His voice is a little breathy.

You're trying not to focus on the feeling of his fingers slipping down your arm until they almost - almost - slot in between yours. You shift slightly so that your head is in a position that isn't causing a crick in your neck, and it only grants a better view of him. His dark hair glowing bronze in the firelight, the ever so faint freckles on his nose, the dip in the left corner of his lip that insinuates another smile.

"A little better." The words almost catch in your throat when his fingers curl around yours just so. They don't hold yours, but they're so, so close. You can feel his pulse - or is that yours beating wildly out of control? "Do you have any paracetamol?"

He takes a second to realise what you've just said, and his hand leaves yours as he rakes about in the first aid kit for the painkillers. Out of pure mothering ability, he pops two out of the packet and hands them to you along with your mug of tea. Not the nicest thing to swallow them down with, but it'll do.

"You need to be more careful on cases," Lockwood says.

"Tell that to George. He's the one who bumped into me." Then, you shrug. "I suppose I shouldn't have gone when I've got the worst head cold I've had in yonks."

A breathy laugh escapes his lips, and you notice how he's looking down at your hand.

It's a bold move, completely unlike you, but you reach for his hand, looping your fingers through his. His hand is warm and, yes, that's definitely your erratic pulse.

It takes a lot to catch Lockwood off guard, but that does the trick. For a moment, it's like he can't decide whether or not to look at your linked hands or at you, and you laugh at the sight of it.

"This is wholly inappropriate," he jokes. "Doctors and patients shouldn't do anything remotely like this."

You must be out of your mind entirely because you lean over and press a kiss to his knuckles. "What about that?"

The expression on his face reminds you of when the TV signal has gotten busted, and the four-person-army of Lockwood and Co, plus a glowing and crude Skull, are sitting around it angrily waiting for it to stop buffering. When the picture freezes, glitches a little bit, and buffers for even longer. You can almost see the buttons and wires in his mind, struggling to compute what you just did.

That's not to say you aren't the complete same. Truthfully, you shocked yourself with the kiss, and you sit here now, staring at the spot where your lips touched his skin.

You're ill, you remind yourself. Maybe he'll pass it off as delusion.

"Would you mind if I weren't your doctor for a little?"

Frowning a little, confused, you say, "No...?"

You've never seen a person move as fast as Lockwood does then. Before you know it, he's leaning over your entwined hands and his lips are brushing yours so softly, giving you room to move if it's something you don't want. But you do. You want it more than anything.

Everything seems to melt away at the moment you press your lips firmly onto his. The library, the fireplace filled with dancing orange flames, your horrible cold, the sting of anti-septic cream on your fresh cut. You're aware only of his lips on yours, his fingers twisted in yours, the warmth of his hand. Every nerve in your body feels as though it's about to combust. Your heart is practically beating through your chest. God, your hands are awfully sweaty.

Only a moment later, he pulls away, but his face stays so close to yours that you can feel his breath on your cheek.

You want to say something romantic, maybe something smart or snarky like you usually would, but all you can think of is, "You're going to get a cold now."

"It's just as well we have Skull, then, huh?" His laugh is soft and airy, and you could catch it between your lips if you so wished. "I'm sure I'll be fine."

His gaze flickers between your eyes and lips, and you're positive that if he weren't holding your hand right now, you'd implode in a burst of sparks and fireworks.

"Well, if you're so sure -"

Knowing where the sentence is going, he presses his lips to yours once more, and it's perfect.

#anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood x reader #lockwood and co x reader #lockwood and co fanfiction #lockwood and co #lockwood and co netflix #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #george karim #x reader #fanfiction #givemea-dam-break

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some-beans · 1 year

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I’m in a mood babe. I gotta write, but I’d be hella inspired if you wrote like a hot MHA pro hero teacher Y/n (if its not too much both male and female, its okay if you only do one, no pressure!)

Just the pros thirsting 🧘🏾‍♀️

— Love you ⛹️🏾‍♀️

you got it babe 💃💃 imma do both

✎...pairing: pro heroes x pro hero!teacher!reader ✎...themes: chaos, pro heroes are down bad, seen as romantic ✎...notes: i want reader, reader is thick for both male and female bc i can, reader's quirk is up to your imagination, though reader teaches health, can you tell which characters are easier to write ✎...enjoy !!

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

𝐅𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

gonna be real with y'all

a hot mess

like he's a highschooler giggling and kicking his feet

blushing and shit

i feel like it starts off as a crush from respect and slowly turns southwards when he manages to find you beaten to hell and back with your costume wrecked to shit

bc just like megan said, body-ody-ody-ody-ody-ody-ody-ody

but also

women with muscles 💕💕

but besides that, i feel like due to how he constantly trained, all might legit has rizz ー with that ass ー but has no idea how to use it

also, with his skinny form, self-conscious baby 🥺

𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

now, it takes him a lot longer to develop these feelings bc i kinda see all might as a ❛traditional man❜ but not in a religious way

like, in a sense he would do old fashion things to woo someone

anyway

like earlier, all might would have to be sat down by someone and have it told to his face that he finds the health teacher attractive

cuz god DAYUM you're yummy

your costume hugs and accentuates all of your muscles

especially your tiddies

definitely uses the excuse to work out with you just to see those muscles move

same goes when you help him out with his classes

that ass is muy caliente

𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐑

𝐅𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

the only chance he'd see you would be out on patrol or if it had something to do with shoto

however, after his divorce and now trying to rebuild his connection with his family, he does end up talking to you

this is bc shoto won't shut up about you to fuyumi or natsuo ー yes, he was eavesdropping

manages to catch you while on patrol

it was very awkward

manages to watch how you easily interact with kids

and how caring you are to shoto ー caring enough to make the boy smile

. . . why did his heart flutter??

𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

same with the female reader, the only chance he'd see you would be out on patrol or if it had something to do with shoto

i feel like for a male reader, endeavour would have to build up respect for you before feelings ever get involved

but when you got hit with a quirk that made your costume melt

. . .

he can get behind the gay agender

totally doesn't use his power to ask for you to work on cases with him

totally not

ahem

if your costume happens to have a boobbie window, he will be staring

𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃

𝐅𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

y'all

this man right here, closeted simp

hands down

does all the small things that make your teacher workload easier

like he would organise your desk, make sure you have pens, coffee/tea/energy drink at the ready etc

present mic brought this up

he lost his loud noise privileges

anyway

as i said he will do anything for

like a n y t h i n g

. . . a tad bit yandere if you ask me, guys

𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

definitely acts like a grumpy cat when you first meet

tends to be wearier of male pro heroes as they don't really have the best representation in the media and in his eyes

eyes you off whenever you're around

however

that broke when sneaked in the new kitten you got into work and let's just say aizawa is very interested

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐌𝐈𝐂

𝐅𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

bashful, blushy and stumbling mess

may or may not have accidentally activated his quirk when he's around you

god, is just like when first got it

folds like an omelette when you smile or call him ❛honey❜

well, it could be any pet name, but that one just

*internal screaming ensues*

𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

man is open to anything

look me in the eye and tell me this man hasn't drabbled in the fruit salad

tries to act suave and confident, but folds like origami whenever you smirk at him

y'all he turns into a puddle when you give him any attention

like, even a crumb

laps that shit up

𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

𝐅𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

yum yum

loves a strong, independent woman

thighs thighs thighs

wants them to be wrapped around her head

earmuffs forever

very vocal about you just destroying her life

and stepping on her

very big fan

𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

yum yum part two: the electric boogaloo

sure, she's got all might's and vlad king's muscles to look at, but yours??

dear GOD

she just wants to

*chomp*

also

when his dick slaps when he walks, i shall listen when he talks™

epitome of that^^

ceo actually

𝐇𝐀𝐖𝐊𝐒

𝐅𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

down bad horrendously

mummy issues who??

now, considering how he grew up, has zero ideas of how to woo you besides using his natural bird instincts

which is very cute

especially if you're taller than him and he tries to make himself look bigger by puffing up his wings

swoons and almost cries when you show him gentle affection

that was a surprise and a half

𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

down bad horrendously part two: the electric boogaloo

daddy issues who??

typically does the whole bromance thing that board line has everyone assuming you two are actually dating

he may have friend zoned himself for that in the beginning and does the arthur fist whenever he remembers that time in his life

has one of his feathers following you when you're on patrol just to make sure you're safe

even tho you kick ass and will most likely be fine

𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐊𝐎

𝐅𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

fruit salad 🎵 yummy yummy 🎵 [ iyk where that's from, i love you ❤️ ]

flirting is 100% on

maximum rizz game

mirko is going make it known you're a tall of water and she's thirsty

will 100% be staring at your tiddies and thighs

also very much keeping her hands on you whenever she can

𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

legit

looked you up and down, and said ❛aight❜

she can get behind it, but don't expect her to be a shy blushing mess

will be coming in strong and she will be jazzed you return the same energy

lowkey digs the height difference *cough cough size kink cough cough*

#💌 some beans requests !!#bnha #mha #my hero academia #my hero academy x reader #mha hawks #mha endeavour #all might #eraserhead #present mic #mirko #mha midnight

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levmada · 1 year

Note

how do you think levi's insecurities about becoming a father would manifest itself? (action wise bc i don't think he'd outwardly say as much given it's levi, but maybe you could make sense of him verbally expressing his insecurities?? seeing as you give the best levi analysis imo)

the baby's sex here is male for jus practical reasons btw🙂

writing this gave me baby fever

//self-doubt/hatred

He wouldn't say much at all, that's right, but considering he's at a point in his life where you carried his child and brought new life into this world with him, Levi would try his best to communicate his feelings instead of pushing them down. The fear of doing something, anything, to hurt his son or give him less than the best is paralyzing for Levi. And for the majority of his life, whenever he has any fear, he avoids it/buries it. That's not an option anymore. If he doesn't act, that'll hurt both you and your child.

Levi is the type of person to read all the pregnancy books and even take notes. He bought and did more than everything you ever needed during your pregnancy, and that doesn't stop when the baby is born. Him learning about SIDS was a mistake because for the first 6 months of the baby's life (the timeline in which it's most possible to happen), Levi stood pretty much sentry whenever your baby lied in his cradle. You can't stop Levi when he has that look in his eye, when he's not only determined, but desperate, so you can at least stay up with him as long as you can, bring him tea, rub his shoulders and tell him he's doing a good job. It's hard for Levi to believe in compliments toward himself, but he really really needs the assurance as far as being a father goes, though he doesn't convey it out loud.

He runs himself ragged very quickly. It doesn't matter how much the advice says that no one is a perfect parent, Levi is determined to be. He's not only new to parenting, to being a father, but the very idea of what being a father means. Kenny didn't make any effort to father Levi so to speak (he was more of a teacher), but he was all he had, as the worst-possible example. He just can't mess this up. The only reason something bad could happen, would be because of him.

Thus he overcompensates for his insecurities by completely burning himself out. He's determined to prove himself, which hurts you in the process, because he becomes distant, and turns into a bit of a control freak. One day you just have to take him by the shoulders and shake him, you know?

"I've never seen you so scared," you tell him, using that forbidden word. Levi, according to him, doesn't get scared. But he's going to make things worse if he deflects from now on.

When he tries to express his insecurities verbally, he needs a lot of time, sometimes minutes, to collect his thoughts between explaining. He speaks slowly. Tries to make you understand that he never understood the love a parent has for their child until he held yours for the first time, but he still feels like he has no idea what he's doing even after going out of his way to learn, and in fact has only ever learned the wrong things to do.

"Hurting you... wasn't my intention. I want. To do well. And give him a different life from what I had."

He doesn't realize how good it is to get it off his chest until all this invisible weight feels like it slides off his shoulders. Even though he isn't used to being comforted after talking like this, when you embrace him tightly, he brings his arms up after many seconds and hugs you back. You promise that you're a team; that there's no way he can be perfect, but he's doing a perfect job; you can keep Levi in line if he does get something wrong. His eyes sting.

It's hard to change the way he thinks. He's still almost always the one to get out of bed if the baby starts to wail in the middle of the night (unless the baby's hungry, in which case Levi brings your son to you so he can breastfeed), and you both spoil the baby rotten, but he starts asking for help for once if there's something about the baby he's not confident managing on his own.

"How do I... turn the mobile?"

Poor Levi doesn't know how to wind up the mobile above your baby's cradle. He had no idea little music would start tinkling out as the moon and stars dangling from the strings whirls round and round, much to your son's little giggles (which is music on its own). You smile down and Levi can't help matching it. Every time he beholds his face and the tussock of hair beginning to appear on his head, Levi's stunned both by awe and fear how you made this little life together, the way he resembles him as well as you. Part of Levi hopes that that only extends as far as the good qualities about his appearance goes, and most of your traits. He doesn't want him to grow up to be bitter or sardonic or awkward—but even if he does, he can't imagine feeling anything other than love for his son.

(Okay I went on a bit of a tangent there.)

Levi... never rocked the cradle on his own because he struggles to be gentle, and he was paranoid of hurting him. You show him how to gently rock it side to side, and eventually his hand appears beside yours. He doesn't realize he's holding his breath until you chuckle and remark that the baby is falling asleep.

When the baby cries, especially if you're taking the rare outing on your own (months after the birth, when you both have settled into routine), he gets nervous. One time, after he's done all he could do, Levi becomes a nervous wreck. He was never a hypochondriac until it came to the health of your baby. All through his life, he's suffered loss, and almost every time unexpectedly. He's not a superstitious person, but he never even liked to name his horses because it seemed like everyone he ever got close to dies. It's not worth it. For once, he found the exception in you, and then in your child, but he can never let himself just. Feel secure.

The baby doesn't have a fever, he's been changed and rocked and all his other needs met, but he simply won't stop crying. The only lulls in the screams are when he takes a breath in order to wail some more.

For once pacing is helpful for Levi because that should help settle the baby, but it fucking isn't, and the potential of ruining everything washes back over him in waves. How a dirty thief like him holding this innocent little bundle is tainting just through touch. He's not conceited enough to think that just because part of your baby is his that he's cursed from the womb, but Levi can't help thinking, not just how unsuited he is, but how unworthy.

He sighs in an extremely stressed way and endures the crying while doing his best to comfort him (mostly based on things you have done), but nothing is working. The baby is inconsolable.

When the front door shuts behind you, Levi doesn't know whether to collapse in relief or shame. From the instant he appears in the entranceway, holding your crying baby to his chest with total helplessness on his face, you worriedly hurry over.

"He won't stop crying. I've tried every damn thing, but I just can't seem to..."

You look intently from Levi to your baby and hum. "Have you tried talking to him?"

He somehow looks even more stressed than before, but intrigued too. "Talking."

"Yeah! He can't understand you yet, but he knows your voice, so maybe that'll help." You stroke the baby's back. "It's alright, it's okay..."

You're caressing Levi's shoulder with the baby sort of held between you as you stroke your son's back. He's still wailing louder than ever.

Levi begins softly, feeling a little lost. "Hey... did you just want to talk to me? We can talk, honey. Stop crying, you're just fine. I've got you. It's okay."

He's not the best at it his first time. It's sort of like talking to a mannequin in his mind, but to his shock and your elation, it works. His wails quiet down to sniveling weeping as long as Levi keeps talking, but not without your support too, in his opinion. Relief floods him.

There is something about your son just wanting to hear his voice that helps erase the heaviest insecurities in Levi. It's hard for him to be confident by any means, but he ends up talking to him a lot, whether you're with him or not (but usually, you are). Mostly after you put him down for the night and Levi wants to spend more time with him. It becomes one of his favorite parts of his day. He watches the mobile turn and talks idly about whatever's on his mind. Sometimes reassurance.

"Your mother and I love you. Did you know that? Well... you better remember," he murmurs. The baby just goggles up at him sleepily. "You can tell me anything... and I'll listen. Whatever you want matters, baby. You're a good boy. If anyone ever tries to hurt you... then they'll regret it. Always gonna look after you."

Unlike the life he had. But now, Levi feels confident that he can provide that for his son.

| levi masterlist | main masterlist |

#levi ackerman x you #levi fanfiction #levi fluff #levi headcanons #levi x reader #levi hcs #levi ackerman hc #levi ackerman headcanons #levi attack on titan #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman fic #levi ackerman fanfiction #dadvi

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teabreakpancakes · 2 years

Text

Wanna Be Yours Alva x GN Reader

Genre: Fluff

Alva always saw you peeking at him during his arrival at the manor—running away when he'd meet your gaze. He didn't think much of it at that time but now that you're right in front of him, he realises that there's much more to your innocent stares.

"A crush?" he mumbles under his breath, eyebrows furrowed. "What makes you think they have a crush on me?" he questioned in an intrigued manner, looking at the hunter sitting across him.

Mary rolled her eyes, "Monsieur, have you seen the look of pure adoration in their eyes?, can you not feel the love radiating from them? It's not just a crush, they're in love with you" she said, utterly exasperated from how dense the other hunter was.

"It's just that I find it hard to understand why they would" the hermit paused, fiddling with his staff. Mary sighs, "Well, I'll leave you to think about it", before promptly standing up and taking her leave.

"Why would they like me of all people? I don't see what's so good about me" he mumbled, pondering about what exactly they liked about him—but nothing came to mind.

He never pursued love, making it seem like it wasn't necessary but the truth is that he doesn't feel as if he's worthy of it. Yes, he was deemed as a "catch" by other people but he truly never saw his value in anything other than his inventions and ideas.

He wanders around the manor, immersed in his thoughts. Alva only snapped out of his daze upon hearing a soft voice he's never heard before.

"Well, I actually used to know him back then, we were still teens when I met him. I've loved him for years but he never paid much attention to anyone aside from Herman" they paused, swirling the tea in the cup they held in their hands.

Alva perked up, staying quiet—he wanted to hear more from this person that apparently loved him. A soft laugh enters his ears from beyond the tall hedge.

"I've kept it a secret for so long, so, when I was offered a chance to enter Oletus manor in order to find out more about why he disappeared, I accepted. I never expected to see him again, I was just hoping to see whatever remained of his body so I could finally tell him about how I've felt for so long" tears build up in their eyes as they hold in a muffled sob.

Mary smiles, "I know I've never experienced anything like that, but all I can do is attempt to console you, I can't do anything about your feelings dear" she soothes, rubbing their back.

"I, I know, but it hurts so badly, I've been pining for him for years. I just want to stop, it hurts knowing he'll probably never be mine." they whisper, still loud enough for the hermit to hear.

Alva cups his hand over his mouth, shock and a weird feeling of warmth taking over his body. Just how could someone feel such feelings for him?.

He could vaguely remember one of his classmates. They always tried talking to him despite being known as someone who always stayed away from everyone. He remembered how cold he'd act and how he'd brush them off every time and yet they still kept coming back with that same sweet smile.

He felt warm whenever they were around, heart racing and mind trying to focus on something else that wasn't them. He thought he was just sick, never thinking about the possibility of him having feelings for them.

Herman often brought up how he felt jealous that Alva had their attention—but of course, Alva didn't pay him attention, he thought Herman was joking.

He thought they were this friendly with everyone so he never once thought of telling them about his weird feelings.

Oh, Alva felt like a total fool. He felt as if he was even more dense than Osmium. But how would he even respond? he can't just pop out randomly and say that he accepts their feelings, hell no.

Alva eyes brightened, he's realised that he has the perfect way to confess. He had to hurry though, he had a match with them the very next day.

He quietly teleports to his room, hastily rummaging around his room in order to get the materials he needed. He had to finish before next morning, he absolutely had to.

The next day, (Name) had puffy eyes from crying so much. They kept their head down as they sat in the waiting room. How could they not be nervous, their heart was beating so fast at the thought of even seeing Alva.

They close their eyes as they wait for them to get teleported to the map. They spawn in the middle of Eversleeping Town, quickly running to the nearest cipher.

Alva connects to their cipher but instead of the usual blue connection, it was a very pretty shade of pink. Soon enough, their heart beat sped up.

They gulped, preparing to run only to be stunned to the ground. They close their eyes, waiting for the hunter to hit them only to be picked up. "H, Huh?" they squeak out, holding onto Alva's shoulders when they see just how high up they are.

"I'm not good with words, I never have been so, I decided to do this" He spoke, not looking at them in the eye. He quickly brings them up using a large electromagnetic globe, holding onto them tight in order to not drop them.

They close their eyes, not wanting to see how high up they are. Alva chuckles, slightly amused at their reaction. He sits them on his lap as they hover high above the map.

"Open your eyes... please" he whispers to them, voice as gentle as it can get. (Name) hesitantly opens their eyes only to see why exactly the ciphers were in odd places.

A large pink heart was formed by Alva's connections, the survivors setting off small sparklers on the ground as they waved up at them.

"W, What?, but," they pause, bewildered, They look to Alva, eyes asking for an explanation. Alva hums, meeting their eyes. "I have always liked you, I just never realised what those feelings were back then" he drifted off, smiling down at them.

"Will you be mine? I promise to try my best to treat you well"

#lawless.writes #idv.writing #idv scenarios #gn reader #idv x reader #identity v #identity v x reader #identityv #idv hermit #idv alva #idv alva x reader #idv hermit x reader #idv alva lorenz x reader

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phyot · 1 year

Text

Who r u again? ♡ 24. goodbyes

warning: maybe a bit angsty (not really)

This is it. Your plane was now landing and the gates were opening. Your last night in lyiue. You're gonna miss it and you're sure of it. That's not even the main problem right now. It's a shame that you never get the chance to say goodbye to Xiao. Or get Hu Tao her car-money back.

You picked up your suitcase and started heading towards your gate. You enjoyed the almost empty airport but it was yet reminding you of your current situation.

Steps echo in your head, giving the fever dream vibe while you're slowly stepping toward the end. This moment was lasting forever.

Heavy footsteps caught your attention. Well not really. They were simply there, not loud enough to catch your interest. You didn't bother looking. Maybe you should have. It caught you by surprise. His arms wrapped around you and pulled you in for a tight hug.

"Please don't go"

"Xiao? What are you doing here-"

"I just wanted to say goodbye."

"Oh... Why tho"

"Isn't it obvious? You're leaving and we probably won't see each other again"

"Don't say that,"

You let go of your bag and hugged him back

"I wish you lived here name..."

"Me too xiao me too,"

You pulled him even closer, making sure there was no space left between you two. It was so warm you never wanted to let go. The hug brought you back to that one night when he held your hand on the bus. The feeling was so familiar.

You felt that way whenever you were around him. Whenever you hung out with him it made your head spin. Whenever he looked at you, smiled, or just was there. You fell so painfully hard for him. There are no words that would explain how deep your love for this guy is. And you hated it. The only thing you have will be taken away from you.

"The gate for flight 341100 will close in 5 minutes"

"I need to go now xiao"

You pulled away from him. Looked at him for the last time. Felt like this for the last time. Tearing your heart out would be easier than leaving him there.

You stood in line while he started heading out.

"Hey xiao,"

He turned around

"Remember that one time when you asked me if I liked you? Well I lied"

Last thing you said before the lady that was checking passports interrupted you.

You didn't catch his reaction and maybe it's better if you didn't. You just wanted him to know. But deep inside this tore him apart. He promised himself that he would never let anyone do this to him and here he was. Standing in the middle of an airport, looking her way even tho she's been gone for a long time.

Previous | masterlist | next

a/n: i hate writing chapters like this 🧍ANYWAY SORRY FOR GRAMMAR MISTAKES...

summary: [name] spends every summer since 9th grade at her best friend's house which is in another country. She also helps her in one of the local bubble tea shop. One day she met a random costumer and things started going uphill after that.

taglist is open!!

taglist: @mangobee @kazekonbini @cherbyti @minkoy @plinkuro @bubblyclouds @edenwrites @lazy-sanns @lucid404 @sukunasrealgf @venus-is-incorrect @wonderland-fan @dainsleif-when-playable @pooonyo @milza12 @stanshizuki @scaranaris-lil-niko @cotton-eee @roguebox @shirmxie @layla240 @lez-zuha @zannivrs @sashiette @itsyourgirlria @skimm0nzz @sunsethw4 @dazaisfavgf

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excelsi-or · 1 year

Text

heart clench (jihoon fic)

it’s kinda wild that i haven’t really kept up with SVT much the last year outside of their music releases, but jihoon fics are still coming to me.

kinda wanna catch up on Going SVT this month now because tomorrow is the last day of grad school for me!!

w.c. 1k (fLUFF. i’m feeling soft these days)

This is always the worst part about the night. They can both agree to that.

But Jihoon had made very specific rules about seeing her.

They could spend all day together. They could stay up for most of the night. But he must go home.

Their days together don’t tend to run into the early mornings. Jihoon may be a night owl, but she is most certainly an early bird. So, as the nights get later, she starts to yawn.

“I should get going,” he murmurs now. He can feel her dozing off against him as they watch a new anime together. She agreed to watch them as long as they weren’t gory.

She hums and slowly pushes herself up to sitting. “Let me pack up some of the food so that you can take it to the dorm.”

He lets her pull him to his feet and trails after her, smiling as she yawns all the way to the kitchen.

“Do you want tea?” he asks her.

“Only if you’re going to have a cup,” she comments, her back to him as she looks for extra Tupperware.

Jihoon turns the kettle on.

They discuss mundane things. 2 AM conversations at 11 PM.

While separating food into various containers, she asks him what makes his heart hurt.

“In a bad way?” he asks. He pops tea bags into a mug for each of them. The steam from the freshly boiled water is warm against his skin when he pours over the bags, the sweet smell of chamomile mingling with the earthy smells of stew and fresh bread from dinner.

“No,” she puts the containers into a plastic bag for him, knotting it carefully. “Doesn’t have to be. Just those moments that make your heart clench.”

Jihoon brings the mugs to the table in her kitchen, taking the seat closer to hers rather than the one across from her. When she sits, the doggy bag set on his usual side of the table, their legs tangle together. He can feel how warm she is from having been curled under the blanket.

“Whenever I sing Circles in front of Carats,” Jihoon decides.

She smiles slightly. “That’s a good one.”

His heart clenches then. That little dozy smile.

“What about you?” He plays with the tea bag in his mug to avoid saying what he’s really thinking out loud.

She tips her head, pursing her lips as she thinks. “Can I be sappy?”

Jihoon chuckles. “You’re the one who brought up the question.”

“My non-sappy answer is seeing my little niece’s face light up when I compliment her artwork. The little dance she does when she gets to eat something she likes.”

“And the sappy answer?”

She gets up to grab a spare plate so that she can take her tea bag out. She doesn’t like strong tea.

“Whenever you go home.”

Jihoon’s breath catches at that answer.

She meets his eyes. A braver human than him by a long shot. He wouldn’t have the guts to look her in the eye and lay his heart bare for her. “I know you set the boundary of wanting to go home and not wanting to stay here overnight.” She shrugs, smiling as she lifts her mug. “I just like you, I guess.”

As she sips, interrupting their eye contact, Jihoon reflects on how to respond.

Early in the relationship, they’d both admitted to one toxic trait. Jihoon admitted to poor communication. She admitted to the inability to be vulnerable.

They agreed to helping each other with the toxic trait. She was the one who asked him what boundaries he knew he had.

“And don’t be afraid to voice new ones as they come up.”

Hence their agreement that he leave every night.

Jihoon had encouraged her to speak her mind. He prompts her constantly: tell me more, please explain. He feels like a shrink half the time, but he finds he doesn’t need to prompt as often. She’s willing to share pieces of herself now, requiring less walls and shields around her heart and mind.

Like telling him she actually really does like him. Not that that hadn’t been obvious, but she’s never voiced it so blatantly before.

“Do you want to know my sappy answer?” he asks.

He waits until the silence encourages her to lift her gaze to meet his.

“When you fall asleep on me. It’s comforting that you feel safe with me.”

They keep talking, their tea cooling, the night stretching on.

By the time, he gets up to actually leave, it’s nearly 2 hours later.

He pauses at the door before turning to her. She stares up at him, dozy expression but curious as to what’s stopping him.

“Did you forget—?”

Before she can finish her question, Jihoon’s lips have stolen the words from her mouth. When she melts into the kiss, Jihoon’s free hand finds the small of her back, pulling her closer to him. The lines of her body align against his, her arms snaking around the back of his neck.

“What was that for?” she breathes.

They’ve had sex plenty of times. Typically early in the night so that they can fit in another round if they want and so that neither of them falls asleep. The goodbye kisses tend to be chaste. The door’s usually open and he’s halfway through it.

“You said that your heart clenches when I leave,” he says against her lips.

She nods, still trying to catch her breath.

“I want to stay.”

“Why?”

“Because saying goodbye to you makes my heart clench,” Jihoon says. “Because getting to sleep next to you might soothe that pain in the morning.”

Her eyes flick back and forth between his, studying him. “Are you sure?”

Jihoon nods, stealing another kiss.

“So, we can go to sleep now?” she asks, her voice small. Worried that he’ll leave if that’s all she can offer him right now.

He kisses her forehead. “Go get ready for bed, I’ll clean the kitchen.”

Another quick kiss to the forehead.

Just to see the way she relishes his lips against her skin.

Heart. Clench.

#Lee Jihoon #lee jihoon scenarios #woozi #woozi scenarios #woozi fic #woozi imagines #Seventeen #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines

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minijenn · 4 months

Text

Jen Tortures Herself With Every Dreamworks Animated Movie Ever: Trolls

So uhhhhh this movie. Kind of took me by surprise??? I went in expecting to hate this, thinking it would be annoyingly loud and bright and simple. What I got... wasn't quite what I thought it would be. Let's get into it.

The Trolls are a fun-loving, happy-go-lucky race of singing and dancing creatures, though they're constantly at ends with the miserable Bergens who want to eat them to get a taste of happiness. After escaping from the Bergens 20 years ago, the Trolls are thriving, until they're discovered by the ousted Bergen Chef, who captures a handful of Princess Poppy's friends, so she sets out with the perpetually grumpy Branch to rescue them. Along the way, they discover there may be a way to bring happiness to the Bergens and save their fellow Trolls alike.

So yeah, a very fantastical, fairy-taleish plot, one that took a few actually interesting, unexpected twists and turns. Don't get me wrong, this isn't a very complicated film, it wears its message of "Happiness is inside you" on its sleeve shamelessly. And yet... I don't know how, but it managed to... genuinely engage me?

Yeah, seriously. I actually kind of liked this? I don't know if it was because the emotions actually managed to hit or if I found the Bergens to be compelling antagonists/anti-heroes or if I started to really enjoy the dynamic between Poppy and Branch or what but like... fuck. Trolls is actually kind of ok? I feel like I'm going crazy just saying that. Like LOOK at that image up there and tell me that's the kind of movie anyone over the age of 6 would enjoy. And yet... I sort of did?

The movie, however, is certainly not without its faults. Its a jukebox musical and that's really not my cup of tea. The pop songs they picked for this are... tolerable, I guess, but hearing a lot of them kind of abruptly pulled me out of the plot so damn fast. Like I said, this is also a very simple movie, one with simple humor (save for a few insane adult jokes I couldn't believe they managed to sneak in there), and simple characters.

Poppy is... ok. She's kind of a bit too perpetually upbeat and cheery for me and yet she's not too over the top like I'd feared she'd be. By contrast, I really liked Branch! He's the straight man to literally all of the other Trolls around him and his dry sarcasm brought a lot of texture to what would have otherwise been a zany, goofy cast. The Bergens do much of the same, from the conflicted King Gristle, to the lovestruck scullery maid Bridget, to our villain, the insane, girlboss Chef, who just stole the show whenever she was on screen.

The visuals in this are also really nice? Like yes, its agressively bright and colorful but it works, I think? Like everything in this world feels like its made out of felt and fabric, very soft and fuzzy to the point that you can practically feel it. The designs for some of these creatures and backgrounds is actually really pretty in their own unique way? Of course, this is coming from someone who likes a lot of color anyway. If you like something a little more grounded visually, this probably isn't the movie for you.

So yeah, Trolls was... ok. Again, I'm fucking shocked, because I'd always been lead to believe this was Dreamworks in their peak cynical cashgrab era but... there's something to this movie that I didn't expect would be there. It's not fantastic by any means, but it has... some substance. And based on what I knew about this film going in, that's certainly more than I was expecting.

Overall Rating: 6/10

Verdict: SINGING KILLED YOUR GRANDMA

Previous Review (Kung Fu Panda 3)

Next Review (The Boss Baby)

#jen watches #dreamworks watch #dreamworks #trolls #dreamworks trolls #jen tortures herself with every dreamworks animated movie ever made

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tea-and-finalfantasy · 4 months

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My Akatsuki Gift Exchange 2023 piece for @rukosband; domestic Kakuzu/Hidan with Fū as their child (and Deidara as her fun, chaotic uncle). Hope you like it and have a happy holiday season! :D

Read on Ao3 | @akatsuki-gift-exchange | @foriamproud

It’d been long enough since he’d left his home village for the trauma not to trail behind, to make marks in the dirt right beside his own footsteps, the two almost one singular thing, but sometimes he still wakes in the morning in a particular headspace, as if something lost completely to his subconscious makes him start the day out of body.

Hidan's always been more comfortable with the lively parts of romantic, domestic life: the long, enthusiastic conversations when there's a topic they're both—oddly or understandably—passionate about, like the need for better streetlights in their part of town, it being particularly out of the way and thus relegated to the dark, or whether the definition of a sandwich is reliant on the type of bread, if necessitating bread at all (would two pieces of pizza pressed insides together count as they’re bread-based? if not needing to be bread, what about lettuce as a bun substitute? if—)

Or the kind of spontaneity and innocence that comes with raising kids, especially one as rambunctiously curious as Fū, having Hidan's self-awareness—knowing exactly what she wants and being set on getting it—and Kakuzu's commanding presence, similarity solidified in their shared skin tone and eye shape, but with a loud friendliness all her own.

Whenever things got a bit too serious, being a comforting presence was difficult for Hidan, regardless of Kakuzu’s attempts at reassurance, they two entangled in their own concerns and insecurities, forming a circle where either one could feel a poor support or a burden.

He tried and tried hard but Kakuzu could tell in the way he held himself—tensely, nervously, as if both on edge and unsure throughout the entire ordeal no matter how insignificant the annoyance in Kakuzu’s mind—that he was unconfident, even as he brought his partner a mug of smoked tea with frothed milk the moment he noticed the other stiff and silent in bed, unable to get up.

“Hey, I know we were supposed to go skating today but if you—”

“No, Fū’s been waiting for this all week and she shouldn't have to miss out because of me; you and Deidara will be more than enough company for her. I'll do my cooking and see you both tonight.”

Cooking. His cooking. Something with ownership and purpose and choice; a comfort, a routine, a distraction—but an involved one, not merely something he’d settle for, something that would barely beat back the anxieties, a second of lapsed focus enough to make his hands begin to shake.

Getting up was a blur, the heat of the mug the only thing to ground him and it rapidly going cold, but Fū’s voice from the kitchen broke him out of it, her footsteps clunky against the wood floor, her gait affected by the big boots, by the puffy jacket weighing heavy on her shoulders.

"Papa, Daddy says you're not coming ice skating?"

"I'm sorry, sweet pea," he says as he squats to meet her face to face, his knees cracking when they bend. He speaks quietly, these affectionate words ones only she's allowed to hear—the same reserved, shy attitude he takes when using terms of endearment for Hidan, unused to intimacy no matter his constant longing to practice it.

"Papa had a bad dream last night and needs to rest at home today. Your uncle Dei will keep you company and you make sure to tell him I said to buy you a churro and a big apple cider with whipped cream.”

She gasps and hops excitedly in place, sharing the same mischievous smile with her Papa—she excited at getting the good snacks, he happy because she’s happy (and because Deidara is paying).

"Just don’t eat too close to suppertime, ok?" he says, addressing them both, both Fū and Hidan replying in turn that they won’t, promising to be on their best behavior.

"See you later, love you," Hidan says in a low voice—comfortably, naturally, solid in routine—as he and Kakuzu peck each other's cheeks, as Hidan pulls his coat on and readies himself to leave.

Kakuzu holds Fū's frame gently as she hugs him around the calves and he makes sure to watch them carefully as they go, all the way down the driveway and then out of sight, past the trees, before settling into himself, alone.

One of the first things he gravitated towards once he moved, once untethered from the constricting expectations of his homeland, was cooking. He’s a homebody by nature so the change was immeasurably difficult at the time, softened only by the recipes he scribbled down before he left, but it ultimately allowed for much greater freedom in the long run, the ability to break the constraints of both gender and tradition.

Here, he took whatever wasn’t tainted, wasn’t molded over by abuse, and cooked the liquor off. He learned to knead and leaven like a woman of his village, learned to lay patient overnight and be rewarded for it. He stirred and sat and salted until only the good kept, added and added and added, refusing to mask the taste of his previous home or to remove it altogether, until he could taste the person he was then within the person he is now, could taste the saltwater brine of his youth amongst the garden growth curling against the windows of their home.

“Here, I’ll help you,” Fū beams, genuinely trying to help Deidara up from the ice, despite her small stature, while Hidan laughs, only having a moment to do so before he slips as well.

“Maybe you should teach us how to skate,” Hidan says, letting her help them both onto their feet and guide them towards one of the rink side benches. She’s a natural, just from the few visits here from previous years, but would’ve still benefitted from someone more skilled holding her hand and keeping her steady, picking up the slack when her little legs got tired, someone unusually skilled in many particular things, things necessitating care and meticulousness and grace—someone like Kakuzu.

But beyond the issue of it being a poor mental health day for his partner and the anxiety for both of them over not knowing how long it would span, they’d fared fine today in his absence, Fū glad to see her Uncle, glad to watch the ducks and geese on the other side of the rink’s edge, glad she could get a large drink and a snack, Hidan upholding Kakuzu’s word, even if she only finished part of each, saving the other portion for her Papa.

“That’s real nice of you, sweetie,” Hidan says, patting her head and tugging her close where she falls in height at his knee. “Are you sure you don’t want Uncle Dei to just buy another one?” he half jokes, meeting Deidara’s pout with a lopsided smile.

“No, I want him to have this one. I want to share mine with him because I miss him.”

Hidan and Deidara share a look, rubbed tender by the sentiment, and both move to comfort Fū, no matter how steadfast she is about it on the outside, Hidan smoothing a hand over her cheek and Deidara patting her back.

“Should we bring it back to him while it’s still warm then? I’m sure he’s almost done making dinner by now.”

Fū makes an affirmative noise and heads excitedly towards the concrete outside the rink as Hidan and Deidara cling to one another, mostly unmoving.

“If we ever actually make if off the ice,” Deidara says, grumbling, Hidan chuckling at their predicament, unable to make it a few strides without sliding.

Kakuzu heard footsteps outside crunching over the days-old snow and realized just how dark it’d gotten already, quickly flipping on the porch and kitchen lights, having been cooking and baking just by the inner light of the oven and the delicate decorations strung around the ceiling skirting. He takes stock of what he’s made and piles the used bowls into the sink, content to leave them until later, before sitting down at the kitchen table, humming in relief as he finally gives his shoulders and lower back a break.

“What, does bread not rise with the lights on?” Hidan jokes upon entering, finally getting the door unstuck, a comment, accompanied by Kakuzu’s (and Deidara’s) subtle eyeroll, gone somewhat ignored in favor of Fū’s firm enthusiasm, as if utterly untouched by the fatigue of the day.

“Papa, I brought you a snack! I know you said not to eat close to suppertime but you always cook for us before you eat so you must be hungry,” she says, encouraging him to have a little bite, to take a sip while it’s still warm. She insists like an old grandmother would and Kakuzu can’t help but smile, despite his neutrality on sweets, at both her caring nature and the resemblance to his own attitude, at least in proximity to the elderly.

“How’d your day go?” Hidan asks, pulling up a chair at the table while Deidara helps Fū out of her jacket and boots, letting her lead him by the hand into the other room, he just as eager to see her drawings as she is to show them off.

“Made liver pâté with mushrooms, onions, and bacon—fresh bread for it too—chicken marsala with the rest of the mushrooms as I thought you could use the carbs from the pasta after all that skating,” to which Hidan almost laughs aloud, considering he and Deidara together did about as much successful skating as Kakuzu did today, having been entirely absent.

“Some rum tile cookies but they’re still in…” he continues, rubbing the bridge of his nose and suppressing a yawn.

“But how do you feel?” Hidan asks, wanting to share in the recounting of today’s events for sure but more immediately concerned with his partner’s wellbeing within it.

“Fine. Tired. Took more on than I thought I did but I’ll be fine after a rest. Was thinking of making gingerbread too so we could—"

“Oh, I wanna make gingerbread houses! Daddy says I’m big enough to hold the hammer now!” Fū pipes up from the living room, settled neatly into Deidara’s side on the couch, the two scribbling out a game of Pictionary.

Kakuzu snorts at this, despite his lingering hesitation to give their child (their unreasonably strong and fiery child) a hammer, because not only is the point of gingerbread houses, foremost even to the consuming, the building process, Deidara put this ridiculous idea into her head that part of the fun was to destroy the finished product as aggressively as possible—something immediately solidified in their household as tradition.

“Okay,” he concedes, remaining unable to keep himself from chuckling at her outburst, “you and Uncle Dei can make a big one to smash tomorrow because it’s already late, even for Papa. But you let Uncle Dei help you hold the hammer—and tightly so you don’t get hurt. Don’t put your fingers near the flat part and make sure not to hit your head swinging it back.”

Deidara agrees to the conditions as enthusiastically as Fū does, as if similarly warned against injury, as if similarly given the go-ahead to play, and wraps her in a tight hug before being led over to her drawing table, ready to help draft designs for the most-involved gingerbread house yet.

“You must be in a better mood than I thought to give her clearance for the hammer,” Hidan jokes, taking a swig of mulled wine, just warmed, before offering the same glass to Kakuzu who takes an even larger gulp, lips laid over the afterimage of Hidan’s.

“Oh please, she begs for it year-round. I don’t even think she made any holiday wishes—just completely distracted by the prospect of wielding a weapon.”

Hidan snorts, wine threatening to burn the edges of his nostrils, and wraps an arm fondly around Kakuzu’s shoulders, taking a moment to shut his eyes, to rest his head in the crook of his partner’s neck, to feel him skin on skin at the rare section unobscured by thick, knit fabric, their cheeks overly hot from the fast transition from chill to warmth, from the overwhelming heat of the oven, high in demand tonight.

“I’ll take those cookies out and then we can start on the gingerbread. Just tell me what to do and I’ll handle it even better than I handled skating today.”

“Why, what happened at skating?” Kakuzu asks dryly, once again settling into his personal spot at the kitchen table, wood creaking comfortably, being well-used. Hidan flashes him a goofy smile, twinged with good-humored embarrassment, and lifts the side seam of his shirt while simultaneously tugging the waistband of his pants down, revealing a sizeable bruise extending from his hip to his ass.

“Safe to say Fū’s the only one making the Olympic team this year,” he says, fixing his clothes, and this time it’s Kakuzu’s turn to feel the wine prickle at his sinuses, it threatening to come out of his nose.

#akatsukigiftexchange #akatsukigiftexchange23 #akatsuki gift exchange #akatsuki gift exchange 2023 #naruto #akatsuki #my writing #my posts

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jananakookie · 1 year

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Beauty Drabble | Yoongi's girlfriend

Warnings: a little swearing

Word count: 2k

Summary: Yoongi's bumpy flirting attempt is interrupted by someone who makes it even harder for him.

☞ This is a drabble for my Beauty Series

Yoongi's girlfriend

It’s a rather slow day today, and as everybody knows, those are Yoongi’s favorite because it means he doesn’t have to take care of too many customers and can pass time in a way that’s more to his liking like taking care of the plants, rearranging things or - his favorite - sleeping in the back of the shop until you find him and yell at him for letting you do all the work by yourself.

Today is a little different, though because he has to take care of new deliveries that come once every two weeks. He’s the one who is usually in charge of it while you take care of the other things regarding the shop, and that’s fine with him.

It is probably the only physical activity here in the flower shop that he doesn't mind doing and where he takes the initiative every time and beats you to it whenever you offer to do it instead.

And although he has argued with you many times about his true intentions, he maintains that it's only because he took care of it before you got here and that he has a certain system that he doesn't want you to mess up.

It definitely has nothing to do with the fact that the supplier is extremely cute, and he likes to spend time with her. No matter how many times you tease him about it. You have no idea, okay? It has nothing to do with her. Or her beautiful smile. Or her pretty eyes.

“Okay, I think that would be all then. I just need your signature, and then I’m on my way again,” Sunyoung smiles, watching Yoongi’s every move as he reaches for the pen in his jeans pocket and quickly scribbles his name down on it like he always does. “Unless there’s something else you want to talk about.”

Halting for a moment, Yoongi looks up at her in disbelief. Did he just mishear?

If he didn’t know any better, he’d think that she was flirting with him just now. But that can’t be. Can it?

He can already feel his ears getting hot while looking at her kind and big eyes looking at him with that beautiful smile still lingering on her lips while she’s waiting for him to say anything and probably for him to man up and stop looking like he’s peeing his pants just because a pretty girl is talking to him. Holy shit, it’s been a while, huh?

However, before he can even muster up the courage to speak, a loud scream of his name comes roaring through the whole shop before he’s almost run over by a tiny monster clinging onto his lower half, startling not only him but Sunyoung as well.

“Yoongi! Daddy brought me here! Are you happy to see me?”

He looks down to see Hyejin's huge Bambi eyes staring at him, red cheeks puffed out while she tries to blow some hair strands out of her face that have gotten a little too long, and he can’t help but grin at his little heroine and ruffles her hair. Sunyoung is still just standing there, watching the scene unfold in front of her, and she looks confused and amused in equal measure

Admittedly, the sight of Hyejin almost made Yoongi forget about her, had she not decided to speak up again.

“And who might you be?” Sunyoung giggles, watching the little unknown girl cling to Yoongi as if her life depends on it.

For the first time since coming here, Hyejin seems to notice that there is someone else with them, and she irresolutely detaches her arms from around him to slip her little hand in his instead.

“Hello, I’m Hyejin,” she politely introduces herself with red cheeks. “I’m Yoongi’s girlfriend.” And despite her having turned shy at the sight of the new, unfamiliar woman, these words leave her mouth very clearly, making Yoongi’s ears turn an even darker shade of red as he picks the girl up.

Why does she always have to introduce herself like this?

Sunyoung gasps as she looks at Yoongi with feigned surprise and a slight frown between her brows. “Girlfriend, huh?” She asks teasingly, making him clear his throat in embarrassment. “You never told me you had a girlfriend, Yoongi. I must say, I’m quite surprised to hear about this.”

“Ah, well… to be fair, I thought I got dumped,” he shrugs, playing along as his eyes wander from Sunyoung to the little girl in his arms. “You haven’t spared me a visit in a while, little heroine. I almost thought you don't like me anymore.”

Hyejin dramatically gasps, shaking her head immediately. “I wanted to come so many times, but no one wanted to bring me here, and daddy said I’m too small to come to the flower shop alone!” She groans, frustration clear on her little face.

Sunyoung can’t help but coo at her cuteness when yet another person comes walking around the corner and joins them, making himself known by clearing his throat.

“Hey, young lady. I told you to wait by the counter for me,” Taehyung sighs, giving Yoongi an apologetic look. “Yoongi is working, baby. He doesn’t have time for you right now.”

“Ah, it’s okay. She didn’t do anything,” Yoongi smiles, sending Hyejin a little wink while she tries to hide from her dad in his embrace. “Tae, this is Sunyoung. Sunyoung, that’s Taehyung, he’s ___’s boyfriend.” He quickly introduces the two while setting Hyejin down again for her to look at the pretty new flowers that have just arrived.

Taehyung sucks in a breath when he hears her name, hiding his surprise behind a kind smile when he shakes her hand. “Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you already,” he then says, making Yoongi’s eyes go big.

Great, now she’s going to think he talks about her to his friends which is not the case at all!

“Oh, you have?” She asks, of course looking surprised because why the hell should he have heard about her?

Yoongi will just have to kill him later.

Fortunately, Taehyung catches on, coughing before chuckling lightly. “Ah yes… from ___,” he evades, offering her an uncomfortable-looking smile. “She said that you’re the best when it comes to delivering new... stuff. Very punctual and very... neat and... good,” he explains, trying to save the day by talking absolute nonsense.

Yoongi mentally slaps himself, cursing him for being such a blabber mouth and also cursing you because it's clear as day to him that you and Taehyung are talking about his crush on Sunyoung behind his back. And he doesn't like that!

“Ah, yes. It’s my job, so…” Sunyoung offers him a humble shrug, not dwelling too much on his weird behavior - much to Yoongi’s relief.

“Alright, if you excuse us then. Hyejin and I have to find ___because we originally came here for her, so… we will leave you to it then,” and just like that he’s gone, taking a whining Hyejin with him in a rush, probably to give Yoongi and Sunyoung some privacy because Hyejin usually always stays with him whenever they make quick visits to the shop.

“So,” Sunyoung chuckles, looking at Yoongi when they’re finally alone again. “Looks like I met your girlfriend,” she jokes, stressing the word with a giggle, which makes Yoongi shake his head in disbelief with a timid chuckle leaving his lips.

“I hope you’re not too disappointed,” he hears himself say before cringing internally at his low attempt to flirt.

Sunyoung looks surprised as well, but it’s quickly covered by a teasing smile as she tilts her head a little. “Hm, I mean… It’s a bummer, really,” she says, mustering a small pout onto her lips. “I sometimes had a feeling that you were flirting with me, but maybe that was just my imagination playing with my head. Wishful thinking or something.”

Her words almost make Yoongi choke on his own saliva. Sunyoung has always been pretty straightforward, but Yoongi never got the impression she was actually interested. He always thought it was just her personality but… wishful thinking? That has to mean something, right?

“I—I mean… You might not be wrong about that,” he quickly says, silently cursing himself for the way his voice comes out. So weak and high-pitched. Ugh! Kinda reminds him of the way Taehyung behaved before you two got together. Fucking embarrassing!

He can see a smirk spread slowly on Sunyoung’s lips, but she quickly covers it with a careless shrug as she turns around. “Oh well. Guess, I’ll see you in two weeks then. Bye!”

His eyes immediately grow wide as she turns around, ready to leave. What exactly is she trying to do?

“Wait!” He calls after her, making her stop and turn back around with a content smile on her full lips.

Oh, alright. She’s playing with him.

But you know what? He’s up for it.

“Or… maybe we don’t have to wait that long?” He stutters out, clearing his throat in embarrassment. He’s never been that good with asking someone out, and he could kick his own ass for being so goddamn awkward, but there’s no turning back now.

He’s pretty sure this is just Sunyoung’s way of giving him a chance to finally make a move. She obviously noticed him having an interest in her, but not having the balls to ask, so this was it. This is his chance.

Raising a brow in question, she looks at him, obviously waiting for him to say the words.

“You're not going to make it easy for me, will you?” Yoongi mutters in defeat, hearing Sunyoung's little giggles ring in his ears while she shakes her head. He groans, growing pretty annoyed with himself before mustering up the courage to finally ask her.

“Would you like to go out sometime this week?”

Sunyoung smiles brightly as soon as the words leave his lips, nodding her head and thankfully not letting him wait for an answer, at all. Yoongi is beyond relieved.

“You already have my number. Just call me when you’re done for today, and then we can work something out.”

And then, after calling a cheerful goodbye to you, Hyejin, and Taehyung throughout the shop, she leaves while he’s left standing there with a stupid grin on his face and a light blush adorning his cheeks.

However, the moment is quickly over again when a loud noise directly behind him brings him out of his daydream. Unsurprisingly, he only needs to look around the corner to see what's going on.

“What the heck?! Were you spying on us?” He barks, catching you and Taehyung looking at him wide-eyed, obviously being caught red-handed, while Hyejin stands next to them with her arms crossed and a displeased pout on her face.

You and Taehyung both immediately shake your head, giving him a stern “No!”, whereas Hyejin simply barks out a loud “Yes!”, balling her little hands in frustration and a little jealousy.

The sight is cute enough to momentarily let Yoongi forget about the actual issue here.

You try to muster up an apologetic smile while Taehyung frowns down at his daughter, murmuring a silent “little snitch” under his breath, which of course does not go unnoticed by you and earns him a punch to his upper arm.

“We didn't mean to spy,” you chuckle uncomfortably, nudging Taehyung to say something as well, whereas Yoongi just stands there in front of you with a bored look on his face.

“Yea, we just... we uhm...“

“Spare me,” Yoongi sighs, interrupting Taehyung's jabbering and gradually walking towards Hyejin to try and appease her.

#taehyung imagine #taehyung drabble #yoongi #yoongi drabble #bts drabble #yoongi fluff #taehyung fluff #taehyung au

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pencilpat · 7 months

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Misc tidbits about the college AU! I'm working on the first part of the fic, but I want to share something about them

Roman and Remus's parents are rich. Like "my brother lives in the five room west wing of our mansion and I have the whole six room east wing" rich. They pay for Roman's house where they all stay and give him a monthly allowance that's a ridiculous amount. Remus, however, has been mostly cut off from funds and is treated like an outcast and disappointment. He was staying with Roman behind their parents' backs before being kicked out.

Virgil is pretty much the only one with a happy home life. His mums are genuinely so supportive and kind to him. He haaaates it though, he's definitely an angsty teen about their love, "get out of my room" and "ugh I don't want a hug" are common phrases. One of his mums is a trans woman, and he's their biological child.

Janus is a tea drinker and Remus is a coffee drinker, and yes, they fight about it often.

Logan was an alcoholic through her entire teenagehood and for a year of college, too. She's currently on five months of no drinking, though! They keep most of it a secret from everyone but Roman. Roman is also completely sober in solidarity.

Janus and Logan have one law class that's the same time slot, and they find themselves sitting next to each other and chatting most days. It's strange, with the strife in their friend group you'd think they would avoid each other, but since Lo talks to Remus sometimes to check up on him, they sort of see Janus as a friend by proxy. 'Proxemity friends', if you know what I mean.

Lo is sort of Roman's unwilling sugar baby. Roman constantly offers to pay for every single expense she has from rent on her apartment to a candy bar. They promptly remind him, "I am an adult with my own damn job," to which he pouts exaggeratedly. Logan has occasional moments of anger and annoyance when Roman shows that he was raised rich, such as not cleaning up around his house because "the maid will get it" or buying hundreds of dollars worth of clothes in one shopping trip.

Patton has sworn one (1) time in a life-threatening situation. No I will not elaborate.

Roman is the only cis person in the group and he never hears the end of it.

Janus was alone through most of her early school life until she met Roman and Remus by chance. At first, they bonded over similar appearing skin conditions, which quickly developed into friendships. When she and Virgil met through the twins, they hit it off instantly. They genuinely got along and related on a lot, at least the things Jan would share. Her lack of sharing any details of her personal life was concerning to all three of the others. Whenever they'd ask to hang out at her house, she'd drive them to a random place instead and say there was a change of plans. Virgil definitely noticed the sleeping bag and clothes in the back of the car. He never brought it up.

Patton and Virgil are so different, it shocks most people that they're dating. But they love each other and love just watching each other engage in their hobbies. Patton will be knitting on the couch while Virgil cuddles them and just watches how good they are at their craft, admiring them. Patton goes to every show Virgil and Roman manage to book, and they cheer so loud they lose their voice! They may be different, but their love is built on watching each other create and grow. And cuddles. Plenty of cuddles.

#college au #tss au #sanders sides au #sanders sides

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peachyninjago · 2 years

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Lloyd and Morro + bucket

listen. is this over 500 words? maybe. just a lil. just a smidge. anyways followers c'mere come get your gc juice :)

tw: none! there are like two swear words ig?

"This… this is ridiculous."

"I'm telling you, Sensei Wu gave this test to all of us."

"I thought you said only the water-girl was subject to this torture?"

"...Yeah, at first. Then she yelled at Wu until he agreed to do it to the rest of us. Nya's scary, Morro."

"I don't disagree, but still-"

Lloyd and Morro stood out behind the old tea shop, where its shallow pond was overflowing with Koi fish. Morro didn't really understand Lloyd's reasoning to come here, (He doesn't have many good memories associated with the place. Lloyd shouldn't either, really.) but the golden boy insisted that it's the only place they can complete this 'exercise'.

Morro brought his hand to his face to pinch the bridge of his nose, already feeling a headache coming on.

"So, let me get this straight. You want me to fill this bucket-" He lifted the bucket he was holding, it had a hole in the bottom. "-With my element? With wind?"

"Yup!"

"Why is there a hole in it?!"

Lloyd sat on a stone in the middle of the pond, the Koi fish around him darting to-and-fro whenever he jostled the surface of the water.

"The hole is there because Nya insisted it to be. Trust me, I didn't get it either. Still don't, actually."

Just as Morro was about to make another comment on how ridiculous this is, Lloyd looked at him with a cheeky grin, making said wind master's pride do a double take.

"Then again, that doesn't really matter. Hole or not, none of us could figure out how to fill it with our element until Sensei Wu told us…"

Lloyd's grin went from cheeky to smug in a matter of milliseconds.

"...But, since you're sooo much better than us, you surely gotta be able to!"

Suddenly straightening, Morro felt his pride hit his heart with a spiked bat.

Even by just listening, is he falling right into Lloyd's trap? Probably.

Is the temptation to be better at something that not only Lloyd, but all the other ninja couldn't do too strong to resist? Definitely.

Closing his eyes, Morro threw the bucket over his shoulder with a smirk. He heard the beginning of Lloyd's outcry, 'Hey-', but the rest of his sentence was cut-off as Morro caught the bucket mid-air.

He didn't even turn to look at it, arms crossed smugly. The soft whirring of wind he could hear rotating around the old object made Morro even more prideful.

When the ex-ghost opened his eyes, Lloyd's wide-eyed expression made him lift a finger to idly toss the bucket around, wind whipping it back and forth. The blond's impressed expression made Morro happier than he'd ever admit outloud.

Keeping the bucket rapidly rotating in one place, Morro pointed to it over his shoulder.

"What, like it's so hard? One bucket of wind, just as you requested."

"Mmm… That's cool, but nope!"

"Wh-? What do you mean, 'nope'?!"

"Nope! That's not a bucket of wind."

"How?! It is literally full of wind!"

"Well, not really. The bucket itself isn't full of wind, it's just surrounded by it."

"Oh, don't be so damn critical!"

"Hey, hey, calm down! I'm just doing what Sensei Wu did! He was even harsher, I swear!"

Letting the bucket drop with a loud 'clunk', Morro plopped onto the grassy floor with a huff, face red in anger. (Or maybe embarrassment?)

Lloyd didn't say anything, only sighing in amusement as he parkoured over wet stones back towards Morro. Stopping when he was right in front of him, Lloyd crouched down, meeting the ex-ghost's eyes with a kind (Albeit smug) smile.

"Not so easy, is it?"

Morro refused to speak, face beet-red.

Instead of talking this out and responding like a normal person, Morro chose to smush a hand against Lloyd's face, sending him falling backwards before standing with a huff.

The Oni-hellspawn let out a squawk of indignation as he partially fell in the pond; recovering only to stumble towards Morro and shake off all the excess water on him.

"Ack-! Oh my F.S.M., Lloyd! What are you, a dog?!"

"Eh, sure, why not? BARK BARK BITCH!"

Lloyd yelled this with a wide, competitive smile on his face, darting forward to wrap his arms around Morro's waist and do a backwards dive-bomb into the shallow pond. (Don't worry, no Koi fish were harmed in the creation of this prank.)

Morro shrieked as he fell, elbowing Lloyd in the stomach as he refused to let go.

"AGH- YOU! LET GO, YOU IMPUDENT BUFFOON!"

"Haha-! Oh my First- Morro, calm down! The water can't hurt you anymore, remember?"

At Lloyd's words, Morro stopped writhing so much, going uncharacteristically still. His face was quick in once more becoming beet-red, almost getting lightheaded from the sudden bloodrush.

"...Shut up. I hate you. I hate this. And I absolutely despise that bucket."

"Hey- What did the bucket ever do to you?"

"Exist."

"Pfft, and you call me a child?!"

Morro groaned one last time as he finally got himself off of Lloyd and out of the pond, wringing out his hair as he stomped towards the bucket. Lloyd did nothing but watch, letting out small bouts of laughter when a few particularly curious Koi fish came nipping at his clothes.

Lloyd's head turned towards Morro as the latter let out a loud 'ahem.' He stood right next to the battered-bucket, eyes bearing a glint so mischievous that Lloyd immediately shot up, the poor affectionate Koi fish darting away. The golden boy's eyes squinted in distrust and mild intrigue.

"...What are you planning..?"

The only response he got was a quiet chuckle from Morro right before the wind master brought his leg back, kicking the bucket forward and sending it absolutely flying. (To whatever poor citizen that bucket landed on in Ninjago City, Lloyd gives you his deepest condolences and apologies.)

Now. Unknown to Morro, Lloyd knew what he wanted to see. He knew he wanted to see the Green Ninja throw a temper-tantrum because his beloved bucket was kicked-to-the-curb.

Lloyd, however, refused to give him that satisfaction.

Instead, he just stood with a smile, letting water roll off him as he exited the pond towards Morro. When they were face-to-face, Lloyd lifted a finger to press against the center of Morro's forehead, a toothy grin working its way onto his face as his cousin's indignation showed through.

"Damn, guess the bucket really kicked the bucket, huh?"

Lloyd, barely keeping back ear-piercing laughter, saw a shadow fall over Morro's eyes. The Oni-hellspawn broke, letting go of his condensed joy as Morro lifted his finger off his forehead. They stayed like this for a near-minute until Lloyd regained the ability to speak, wiping overjoyed tears from his eyes.

"Whoo, okay, haha! …Ha…ha… Hm. How… How long do I have to run?"

"...Fifteen, fourteen, thirteen…"

With a half-nervous, half-excited yell; Lloyd made a sharp U-turn, beginning to run towards the old tea shop as Morro's counting became louder and louder..

"Six, five, fourthreetwoone. GET BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE SHIT!"

As Morro began sprinting after him, Lloyd couldn't help but giggle at the absurdity of the situation. The bucket was probably still flying…

…And Morro didn't even realize that he filled it.

#ninjago #lloyd garmadon #lloyd ninjago #morro wu #morro ninjago #green cousins - lloyd & morro tag #my writing #gonna start posting these on ao3 now that i have enough of em done

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sparguscityangel · 1 year

Text

and i’m used to that (but i can get used to this)

I got hit with some Jak/Keira feels recently and I had to write something short and fluffy about my kids ;u; I might upload this to AO3 too, I haven’t decided yet so I’ll post it here. Rated G for because they’re kids and I wanted to write some wholesome teen friendly romance.

Warning: Mentions of physical abuse from Jak’s time in prison.

Title is from Monster by Olivia Olson from Adventure Time: Distant Lands - Obsidian. This whole fic is inspired by that song, it was hard picking which lyric to put aurhgaliurhgaerg

Enjoy!

Rain in Sandover was always cause for melancholy for Keira. It meant staring out her window with her chin in hand and watching the water pour over the village in fat drops. It meant the stench of wet yakkow wafting from the east and soggy straw threatening to collapse above their heads. It meant being unable to meet up with Jak and Daxter as they were forced by their guardians to hunker down indoors. Rain brought depression and loneliness to the village, groans and moans as the denizens scrambled to figure out how to avoid the water from flooding their homes despite the barrier of sand bags plopped at every entrance. Keira always felt the loneliest during those days. It helped having books and inventions to tinker with on rainy days, but it was nothing compared to running barefoot on the beach as the sun bestowed more freckles on her shoulders.

In the last two years, Keira has grown used to the ache in her chest when she thought of all the times she didn’t appreciate Sandover to the fullest capacity, but sitting in her apartment with a hot mug in hand and looking out at the neon lights of Haven reflecting off the rain, she supposes nothing really changes. Not completely anyway. Not without retaining at least something of what once was, a ghost of the past that never really goes away nor would she want it to.

She has a hard time with that, doesn’t she? Change. Everything changed so quickly, she’d barely allowed time to get her bearings before the next shift began and she’s planted again at square one. It happens so suddenly, too. Abruptly and violently, like a balloon popping if left out in the sun for far too long. There’s no warning that it’s about to happen, and you are barely able to move out of the way before … POP. She thinks of all the people she never got to say goodbye to, all the artifacts and technology that were lost once more to the passage of time, to Chompers the plant that withered away to nothingness in her father’s hut as it awaited a caregiver who never returned. She tries not to think about it.

Keira took a sip of her tea. It was lukewarm now, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. The warmth of the mug brought the feeling back into her fingers, so it served its purpose in the end. Despite the warmth combating the chill in her bones, Keira couldn’t find it in herself to go to bed just yet. She knew it was late, and she’d have to get up early in the morning to head back to the garage, but she felt unusually alert. The city, thought active and bright, felt sleepy all around her. She leaned her head against the frame of her window, debating on whether to close the open orifice, when something down below in the street caught her eye.

It moved slowly toward the entrance of the building, casting glances over his shoulder whenever the clanking of armor against armor drew too loud. His head was wrapped with a scarlet scarf, only his darting eyes visible, and his hands were tucked into the pockets of a racing jacket, but Keira would recognize him anywhere. She’d probably recognize him by touch alone if she had too, and then she chastised herself for lying so blatantly even to herself. Precursors, she didn’t even recognize him when he was a shadowed silhouette on her curtain, how could she recognize him by touch alone?

Her intercom buzzed loudly in the quiet apartment, and Keira startled. It was rare that she had a visitor, the sound of her own intercom foreign despite living here for a year and a half. Perhaps, it was also in part that she hadn’t spoken to Jak in over a month, not since he stormed out of her garage after the Class 2 race. She stood up on the second buzz, padding from the window seat straight to her intercom and pressing the button to answer. She held her finger there for a full minute, listening intently to Jak’s breathing on the other end as she willed herself to swallow her pride and speak first.

“Hello?”

“Hi,”

“Hi,” A beat. “Want to come up?”

“Yeah,”

Less than ten words exchanged between them before Jak was inside Keira’s apartment, dripping rainwater onto her rug and staring at the pattern under his boots like it was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen. Keira didn’t say anything. Her heart pounded in her throat, anxiety making her mouth feel like cotton. All she could really do was stand opposite of Jak, both avoiding looking at the other. A game of chicken where the first one to speak would lose, only this time it was more serious than trying to shove the other off shoulders and laughing as they splashed wildly in the water.

The drops rolling off Jak were soaking her rug, though, and Keira really liked that rug. Damn it. “You’re soaked,” she sighed, “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t flood my apartment,”

Jak raised an eyebrow at her, confusion twisting his face in the darkness before a soft, “Oh,” rolled out of him and he snapped to action to remove his jacket. He toed off the boots as he did so, dropping an inch or two in height. The apartment was dark — the only source of light coming from the neon from the window and the passing of headlights that swept across her furniture like searchlights, but even with limited visibility, she could see the way his tunic stuck to his skin. There was little doubt that the garment was thoroughly soaked. Why wasn’t he taking it off? He was going to catch his death if he kept it on. It wasn’t like her apartment was awfully warm, and even through her thick cardigan, she could feel the late autumn night.

She raised an eyebrow at him, then subsequently blushed when he cleared his throat. Oh, right. Keira cleared her throat. “I’ll, uh … I’ll go see if there’s … um, sorry, the bathroom is right there, help yourself, I’ll just … yeah,” she stammered off, caught between running to her room to bury her face into a pillow with the loudest scream she could muster or jumping out the window with a running start. Thankfully, Jak nearly bolted for the bathroom with a curt nod and she didn’t have to marinate in the awkwardness for long. Once the door closed with a click, she dropped her head in her hands harder than necessary.

It used to be so easy to talk to her best friend. The conversations always flowed so naturally, an endless stream of consciousness about her latest idea and Jak’s newest addition to his bug collection. Somewhere around the time she turned eleven, it was enough just to lay next to him on the dock near the Fisherman’s house and watch the clouds morph over them until the sky grew orange and the dying sun would turn the blue of Jak’s eyes into something akin to honey toned. The first time she noticed it, her breath caught in her throat and her fingers itched to etch the image on paper. It was then she realized that Jak wasn’t just her friend, not like he was an hour prior, but someone else. Her childish brain conflated him alongside the awe of stepping into the Precursor Temple in the Jungle, and she has had trouble separating him from the grandiose mosaics of the Precursors ever since.

It broke her heart when she saw him under the fluorescent lights of the garage and the only word that came to mind was sick. He looked sick. From the pale pallor of his skin to dull irises that seemed to avoid soaking in the light. Everything about him was just … wrong. It was meeting a stranger, another Havenite who walked the streets of the city like reanimated corpses that would continue to wander until they succumbed to their own decay. She wondered if this is how it felt to renounce one’s faith, then she laughed at herself because she would know the feeling well. No Precursor who was benevolent would ever sentence two close friends to this.

She snapped back to the present when the bright high beams of a patrol zoomer blinded her, casting shadows and the monsters that lurked within them over the walls of her apartment. She shoved the past down, and tuned into the present where she was standing in her home, holding dry clothes in her arms. The bathroom door opened a crack and darted toward it quickly, holding the bundle of clothing out in front of her for the other teen to take. “Here. Put these on,” she immediately noticed his eyes widen slightly at the pants, and before he could draw any conclusions, she blurted out, “They’re some generic racing uniform the stadium gives every team that competes. I always tell myself I’m going to donate them, but I keep forgetting. The sweater is mine,”

“Thanks,” he replied, taking the sweater and pants slowly. It was as if he was afraid that the wrong movement would shatter the clothes like glass, that Keira herself would snatch them away from him. When his hand felt the soft fuzz of her favorite sweater, however, she watched as his hand lingered for a moment. Still as the dead, Jak’s fingers twitched and smoothed over the sage tendrils of fluff. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but instead of words, he nodded and shut the door. She tried not to take it personally and retreated to her window seat, leaning back against the wall.

Jak clambered around in the bathroom, no doubt knocking over a few toiletries into the sink. She could hear what sounded like her bar of soap slide in the porcelain basin. How can someone so skilled in fighting discipline be so horrible at moving around an enclosed space, she’ll never know. Jak emerged a few moments later, and lingered around the doorway. He looked ridiculous, and she wanted to tell him so, but the sweater hung off his frame more than she thought it would and the pants were meant for an adult man at least a foot taller than him and all she could think about was how small he looked. She swallowed thickly, clearing her throat to get his attention.

He just stared.

“You know I don’t bite, right?” Keira patted the cushion next to her. He still didn’t move, and she was close to tears then. How did it get so messed up between them? What happened to them where just the idea of being near the other was enough of an issue to cause pause and reflection?

In the neon light, Jak’s face was visible for the first time since he stepped foot in the apartment. His cheek was bruised with nauseating yellow and sharp purple, and his lip was scabbed from a cut. The injured looked a few days old, and it didn’t take a genius to notice how the map of destruction was about the same length as the butt of a Krimzon Guard stun baton. His hair was still wet from his trek in the rain, but the ends started to curl in loose ringlets and waves around his shoulders as it dried. Eventually, the golden boy of Sandover sighed heavily and sank down next to her, keeping his eyes trained on the ground between his bare feet.

Though his back was to the open window, Keira could still make out the set of his jaw, frown lines permanently etched into his face. Despite it all, he was still a sight for sore eyes, and one she missed more than she realized until now.

“No Daxter?” she asked, testing the waters between them. Jak shrugged a shoulder, his elbows no doubt digging painfully into his thighs as he leaned forward.

“He’s with Tess,” he said flatly, “Something about date night. I don’t know, I didn’t really ask,”

Keira nodded and hummed in understanding, though she knew she was stalling on what she really wanted to ask. She bit her lip, worrying it between her teeth before the curiosity overwhelmed her. “So I’m what? Your last resort?”

Another shrug. “I didn’t really have anywhere else to go. I was going for a walk and then I ended up here, so I figured …” he tensed, wound up like a spring loaded toy that was ready to pop at any given moment. He sighed, but his shoulders remained hunched. “Forget it. Thanks for the dry clothes. I’ll just get out of your hair,” Jak moved to get up, but Keira has known him longer than anyone, and her hand darted out to tug at his sleeve. He paused halfway, turning his attention to her hand.

“Don’t go,” she swallowed, “It’s pouring outside. Just stay here,”

“Keira …”

“Please? I missed you,”That seemed to have struck a chord with him. His body deflated, letting her guide him back to the cushion they were sharing only moments before. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it … like that. I just thought you didn’t want to see me after … you know,”

Jak was always a terrible liar. He couldn’t keep a secret to save his life, and although he could get away with batting his eyes and smiling slyly at the adults, there was only so much he could feign. It was evident when he cleared his throat, obviously trying to hide the way he had a visible reaction to her bringing up their argument in the garage.

It was nasty. That’s the only word she can think of to encapsulate the entire interaction. It was nasty, and she felt grimy every time she found herself replaying the conversation in her mind like an echo chamber of her Top Five Most Embarrassing Moments. Jak must’ve felt the same, because he leaned back until the back of his head to meet the vertical metal slats of her window.

“It’s fine,” he muttered, but he wouldn’t look at her. He hasn’t looked at her since he arrived, and it shattered her heart. Never in a million years did she ever think there would be a time where they were sitting so close to each other, yet still miles apart.

“No, it’s not,” She shook her head, moving to place a hand on his shoulder, but he dodged the touch like it was a branding. She deserved that. She folded her hands back into her lap, picking at her cuticles as she searched for the right words. It was nearly impossible to figure out how to start, but she owed it to Jak to at least explain her actions. He was entitled to that. “I hurt you. I wish I could say that I didn’t mean to, but I don’t want to lie to you. In the moment, yeah, I wanted to hurt you for … I don’t know. I was hurting, and I guess I didn’t want to be the only one,” she heard Jak scoff under his breath, and at any other time, it would’ve made her fly off the handle, but this time she scoffed alongside him. “Point is, I shouldn’t have treated you like you were some kind of thug. We all have to do some pretty crappy things to survive, and if working for Krew helps you and Daxter stay afloat, it’s really not my place to belittle you for that,”

Jak ran his hand through his hair, bushing back the long strands that fell over his face. It was then she realized that he was completely dressed down. His goggles were gone, and his faithful right pauldron was nowhere to be found. There was nothing hard about him, nothing to shield him. Jak was completely vulnerable in front of her. She dug her thumb into her palm, pressing her nail deep to avoid reaching out to see if the invisible barrier between them was still in place.

“It wasn’t really the Krew stuff that upset me,” Jak started, hesitant and shaky, “I’ve made my peace with being a hired gun. It’s not like I have much of a choice, but I do wish you let me explain,” he swallowed, “It … Keira, Erol is bad news. I should’ve explained myself, but whenever he’s around, I can’t … think straight. Everything gets hazy and my chest feels tight. I was terrified when I saw him in your garage. You have no idea what he’s capable of,”

Keira took a deep breath. She figured it would come back to Erol one way or another. It was strange having two men she was attracted to pointing fingers at the other, spewing slander of the other and then asking her to make a decision on their character from hearsay alone. What she knew for certain was that one was lying and one was telling the truth. “I know he’s the Commander of the Krimzon Guard. I know he helped me a lot those few months I was in Haven. I had nowhere to go, I don’t know what had happened to you and Daxter and daddy. All I knew was that I was alone and scared and cold and hungry and Erol was there for me,” Jak nodded, but Keira could tell he was elsewhere right now. She pressed on, “I also know he hurt you,” He snapped to look at her, and if it wasn’t for the circumstance, she thinks her heart might’ve melted. He was woefully beautiful, like a doomed prince in a tragedy. All pain and sorrow intersected with the holy burden of being so appealing that makes onlookers refuse to look away. Her mouth dried up and she had to swallow. “Daxter mentioned the Baron and eco … at first I didn’t really register it until Erol came by the garage after you left and told me about you,”

“What did he say?” “That you were dangerous. I don’t think he knows we grew up together because he just went on and on about how you were arrested for kicking crocapuppies or something equally as stupid. He said he tried to … rehabilitate you, but you were too evil to change. I thought, ‘He can’t be talking about the same Jak. Whoever he was describing sounded like a villain in a fairytale.’” She chuckled humorlessly. “I’m not going to apologize for trusting him. But I am sorry for trusting him more than I trusted you,”

Jak pursed his lips. He was concentrating hard at the spot near Keira’s ear, on the wall behind her. She almost turned to look, but his eyes slid back into focus and they darted to look into hers. Chills ran down her spine. “Rehabilitate. Fucking bullshit,” he smirked, but Keira noticed it was off. His canines were too sharp, his smile didn’t reach his eyes, and it looked more like he was baring his teeth. Her heart seized a bit, but not in a bad way. Her cheeks grew warm and her palms sweaty, and she had to look away from him. “He made my life a living hell for two years. Still is. I can’t go a single day without seeing his ugly mug plastered somewhere and reliving the shit he put me thought,”

Keira opened her mouth, but the tremors in his hands told her that this needed to happen. He needed to get this off his chest, and if he needed her to be the one he offloaded this too, she’ll gladly accept it. It felt good being near him again. If he wanted her to sit while he screamed at the stars and waged holy war with the Precursors, then she'd sprout roots and dig far deep into the earth. She folded her legs in front of her and laid her chin in her palm, keeping her face neutral as Jak grit his teeth. “It wasn’t enough that they’d pump me full of dark eco for him. He wanted to watch them do it. He’d stand there and watch them strap me down and he’d flip the damn switch to the Halo. And when that novelty wore off, that’s when he’d drag me into The Room,” he paused, Adam’s apple bobbing as he chewed on his words carefully. When he started again, it was slower, more calculated. “He beat me. Every single day for two years, he’d use me as his own sadistic plaything. I knew he wanted me to beg him to stop, but I wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction. I’d rather he kill me than to ever give him what he wanted. I told myself that I wasn’t going to let him change me, that he couldn’t take who I was away from me, but every time that door closed I lost parts of me that I’ll never get back,” he blinked, “Seeing him in your garage … I thought he did something to you. I thought he found out about you somehow and hurt you. Then you said he was the best racer you’ve ever seen and something in me just … broke. He broke me, but you, Keira? You made me unfixable,”

Keira couldn’t argue with that. What can she say? She couldn’t deny Jak that feeling of betrayal. He’s been denied so much as it was already, she wasn’t going to be the one to invalidate those feelings. She couldn’t scream and cry like a victim, twist the situation so that Jak was in the wrong because he wasn’t. She should’ve trusted him from the beginning, and cut ties with Erol the moment he even mentioned that he was someone who couldn’t be trusted. A part of her wanted to pipe up that she didn’t know about Erol’s cruelty, but the other part of her knew that was a lie. She hadn’t seen it first hand, but she heard the way he spoke to his racing rivals. The way he’d seethe and demand rematches whenever someone beat his score, the amount of times something heavy got flung in the general direction of a cocky racer that rubbed Erol the wrong way. She saw the bloody knuckles and wild look in his eyes, and because she was too scared to lose her only friend and reliable client, she looked the other way. She was no better than Erol, who stood by and watched as her best friend was tortured within an inch of his life.

No words came to mind. There was no way she could remedy this quickly enough, but Jak’s hand was shaking violently and curled up so tight that she could see the veins and tendons jump out. It looked painful. She didn’t want him to hurt anymore.

She laid her hand over his, telegraphing the movement slowly. When Jak didn’t flinch away again, she took the fist in both hands. He was cold to the touch. She wondered if her hands felt like a branding against his own, a mark of the Baron’s crest on the inside of his wrist telling her that he must know the feeling all too well. She dug her fingers into where his own met his palm, releasing his grip. Crescent moon indents formed a line in the middle, and she rubbed her thumbs in unison against them until they faded away to nothing. He was real in her hands. There was flesh, and blood, and bone, and a heartbeat, and life. He was right here, right next to her in her apartment, and he was real. Her ghost had returned to her alive.

She held his hand in hers. She was in her apartment in Main Town, she was sitting on a cliff on her fourteenth birthday, she was standing on the top of a Citadel — she was participating that was happening at different points of her life in the past and each time she held Jak’s hand, it felt like the very first time. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I’m sorry. I’ll never stop apologizing, not even if you decide to forgive me. And I’m sorry, but that’s so not true,” Jak stilled, his hand twitched in hers and she knew he was going to try and pull away, but she squeezed his even tighter to keep him put. “You’re not broken. You’re here, completely intact, with me. There’s nothing to fix,”

“You don’t know that,” he said, “I’m not that kid you grew up with anymore. He died in prison, Keira. I’m just what’s left of him,”

Keira looked down at their hands. “I don’t believe that. I think you’re still you, just … different. Even if we didn’t go through the Rift, you weren’t going to stay fifteen forever. That’s just not practical. Scientifically speaking, we’re constantly evolving. We mature, we regress, we grow up. It’s not fair to yourself to expect to stay the same when it’s natural to not even be the same person we were a month ago. And yet …” she traced his nail beds with her other hand, and smiled when she made out the scar on his middle finger from when Jak tried to pet a wild Lurkerpuppy. “See this?” she held their hands up, “This is still you. This is the same hand you used to bring the Sculptor’s muse back to him. Your bones, your eyes, your feet, your heart — they’re still all here. Despite everything, you’re still you,”

“I can’t be what you want me to be,”

“I won’t want you to be anything,” Keira spat, twisting her face in mock disgust. “Did I like you when you were fifteen and non-verbal? Yeah. Do I like you now that you’re seventeen and a bad boy? Hell yeah,”

Jak chuckled, and when Keira looked up, she found him smiling at her. A genuine one. Not the strained one he gives out at racing matches or the baring of teeth he does when Krew calls him. This was the smile that made her first realize that she would do unspeakably embarrassing things to see more of. It was all teeth and sunshine. “You like me, huh?”

“If you’re just figuring that out now, then you’re either the most oblivious guy on the planet or you’re tied with Daxter for the most gullible,”

“I can’t give you what you want, you know,” he muttered, “I’m not ready for that,”

Keira nodded. There was still so much to work on between them. Tonight they were able to pluck off enough bricks from the wall that separated them to see the other, but there were still many more to go. It’ll be exhausting, and they’ll be covered in dust and sweat, but at least they would be dismantling it rather than building onto it. Sometimes, that’s all one can really hope for. And that was enough for her. “You know what I want right now?” she asked, and when Jak shook his head, she answered it for him, “I want to be a kid,”

“You just had a whole speech about not being kids anymore,”

“No, no. I just had a whole speech about not staying kids anymore. I want us to be kids. Precursors, Jak, we’re teenagers,”

“I’d make the argument that I’m mentally at least thirty years old at this point,”

“That’s the first joke I’ve ever heard you make and it’s not even funny,” she groaned, hearing her friend laugh, “I’m serious! We went from being barefoot kids and straight to adulthood. We didn’t even get the chance to be our own age,”

“Okay, how do you suggest we do that? What do teenagers even do?” Jak frowned as he thought of his own question. It was a good question. Keira didn’t even know what she meant by ‘being a teenager’ but she knew it meant being carefree. She knew it was a pinnacle age where the fancies of childhood and the pains of adulthood intersected. She knew that she, Jak, Tess, and Daxter all apparently skipped that transition altogether and headed straight for becoming a young adult. Teenagers weren’t supposed to have their own apartments yet, nor were they supposed to be running around the city doing errands for a known crime boss. They were supposed to be doing something stupid. Looking out the window, Keira was instantly struck with the perfect idea.

“Come on,” she smiled, leaping off the bench and pulling the hero toward the front door. Jak followed suit, his eyebrow raised in quiet suspicion. He didn’t say anything until they were running down the stairs of the complex, barefeet echoing loudly in the corridors as Keira practically sprinted for the entrance.

“Where are we going?” he asked quietly, the question dissipating the moment Keira pushed the heavy door open. The rain hadn’t let up at all since Jak first arrived, pouring various waterfalls from atop the awning above the door. The two teens stood under it, holding hands and gazing up at the dark rain clouds overhead. The neon lights of the city were fuzzy and bright in contract, reflecting off the puddles on the street by their feet. Keira smiled up at Jak, a mischievous glint in her eyes. She didn’t have to say it. They’ve known each other since they were old enough to remember, they could read the other like a book. Everything and anything the other wanted to know was there for the taking.

Keira didn’t give a warning other than a hand squeeze before she was yanking the blond teen toward the open road. The city had officially gone to sleep, and they were claiming it for themselves as the inhabitants dreamed. The rain pelted down on her head, soaking her hair and sticking her cardigan to her skin. She let go of Jak’s hand, throwing her hands to the rain and basked in the storm. She goes back to egg Jak to dance with her, not caring that her movements aren’t the most fluid and there was no music to get the rhythm of. She jumped and waved her arms and swayed her hips and laughed when her best friend joined her, pulling her close.

In a couple hours, the Krimzon Guard would be back on patrol and Jak would leave her apartment before daybreak to avoid being recognized. In a week from now, Keira would be standing on a zeppelin next to the Rift Rider she’s been working on for years as she watched her best friend shrink in the distance, praying to Gods she no longer believed in that this won’t be the final time she sees him. A year and a half from now, they’ll meet again with a magnetic barrier between them, realizing that they had officially crossed the threshold into adulthood without the other and be torn apart again in a bittersweet reunion where Keira will realize that Jak belonged out in the Wasteland with his new family. She won’t be there when Jak discovers he’s the lost heir to the city, nor will she be there as he breaks apart holding his father’s dead body in his arms. He won’t be there when Keira is put on trial for her involvement in aiding a banished man reenter the city nor will he be there when she finally severs all ties to her father after his transgressions come to light. They’ll be torn apart and reunited over and over again until the sun explodes in the sky and engulfs the planet into flames. They’ll still fight, and they’ll still hold grudges, and they’ll go to bed angry at the other.

When it would rain, from now on, Keira would think of this moment, and of them, and feel nothing but love and happiness. This precious moment that will remain perfect and untouched in time forever. A moment where Jak and Keira dance without abandon in the rain, pretending they are the only two people left with a whole city at their fingertips. Keira will throw her head back to laugh, and Jak’s hand will be pressed against her back. He’ll hold her hand high above his head and she’ll twirl, wet hair sticking to her face and neck as she almost slips on the wet concrete. Jak’s eyes will glow an electrifying blue in the neon lights and lightning, and Keira will realize that she liked it almost more than she liked the golden blue.

For now, they were young and in love, and that was enough for them.

#jak and daxter #jak/keira #jakxkeira #keira hagai #fanfic #snippet #angel's fic #<- my fic tag ig ailurghaliurgh #jnd

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etherealacoustic · 2 years

Text

Promise Ring pt. 2

Pairing - Remus Lupin x daughter!OC, George Weasley x OC

Warnings - none!

Go read Pt. 1 if you haven't already!

Molly, Remus and Fred were the only people to know about George thinking of giving Ophelia a promise ring. Something that would secure their future.

Everyone else was totally clueless and it was more difficult for George to hide his nervousness and not be suspicious.

Ophelia had noticed something off with him, his hands shook whenever they were talking and he stuttered too. But she didn't question it, concluding that maybe he suddenly felt some way.

Fred and Molly on the other hand were giving him non-stop advice, though Fred seemed to threaten the poor boy than provide some help.

"That's really helpful, thanks," George groaned and pressed his palms on his eyes after hearing his brother's comment.

"What?" Fred grinned and tried to control his laughter. "I didn't say she will, I just said she might. She might run away".

"Stop it," he grumbled and looked down at his hands, his thoughts genuinely conflicted and messed up.

"Hey," Fred said in a much sincere voice after realising just how scared his twin really was. "You know I was joking right? That girl loves you, mate. She'll never ever do that".

"What if she does? Maybe it's too soon for her. I think I'm hurrying things".

"No you're not. You've been together since five years for merlin's sake! It's not early. And besides, you're not even marrying her. It's just a promise".

"Man up now," Fred smiled and put his hand on the other's shoulder. "She's going to leave soon with Harry".

"Yeah," George sighed and sat there for a minute before thinking of visiting his girl.

He apparated in front of the Lupin Cottage and was thankful to see the light on. The questioning was done and in he stepped.

"Hello love," he said brightly and brought her in his embrace.

"Godric did I miss you," Ophelia breathed and pressed her head against his shoulder, her arms tightening around his torso.

"Missed you too," he smiled and pulled back to kiss her passionately.

A small group of butterflies danced in their stomachs and electricity shot through their veins at the contact.

The two grinned and went to sit in the living room with two steaming mugs. Tea for him, and coffee for her.

"When are you leaving?" He asked and looked at her as he rubbed her feet that were placed in his lap.

"After Harry's birthday," she answered and kept the cup on the table. "Which is tomorrow. He'll turn seventeen and won't have the trace on him then".

George nodded, "It's a lot more dangerous than you're letting on isn't it?"

"You already know," she smiled sadly. Wanting nothing more than to share everything with him but it wasn't her place to do so.

He nodded again, not asking any more questions and trusting her completely.

"I'll be back soon," she frowned. Feeling terrible at seeing his slightly sullen state. "I promise you".

"I also know that," he chuckled a little. "I know you will come back. And if you don't, I might just have to drag you away from that no-nosed bastard himself".

Ophelia laughed out loud, her having no doubt that he would definitely bring her back from the captures of the Dark Lord himself if he had to.

They sat in silence for the rest of the time until a knock was heard making them alert, but it was just Remus.

"Hey Dad," Ophelia smiled at her father and hugged him tightly.

He mirrored the action and kept her close before letting go, "Hey, good day today?"

"As usual," she responded and went into the kitchen to make his favorite black tea.

"Hello George," Remus greeted the young man who looked a tiny bit nervous before replying back more firmly.

"Joke shop going well then?" The man asked and accepted the tea from his daughter.

"Oh yeah it's good. But the sale's going down the last days, not many people are getting out to wander and all".

Remus nodded understandingly and looked at his daughter who was curled up in a comfortable armchair and was reading her favorite book.

"Harry's birthday is tomorrow," he said and Ophelia looked up at that.

She nodded, "Yep, which means my time to save the world from an evil man with an absent nose and horrible fingernails has come".

The two laughed at her humour, it wasn't the same as before but they were glad that it wasn't gone fully.

"It's getting late, I better get going," said George and got up.

Ophelia stood up too and pulled him in a hug, "See you tomorrow," she smiled softly and kissed his cheek.

"Of course," he said and hugged her back, hoping she wouldn't hear his heart thudding madly at the thought of the next day. He kissed her head before walking out of the door with a last wave and smile.

The two Lupins watched him and went back inside after he disapparated.

"He was acting a little different yesterday," she said unconsciously and sat cross legged on the couch.

"How so?" Remus asked with raised eyebrows.

"I dunno," she began uncertainly. "He was stuttering and blushing a lot when we were talking. I don't understand if it's a good or a bad thing".

Remus barely managed to hide a smile at her answer. Of course George Weasley would stammer and flush furiously in front of his own girlfriend only because he was planning to give her something special soon enough.

"He probably was just nervous," he said and successfully hid his laughter.

Ophelia frowned at the strange thought but nodded nevertheless.

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

The day was finally here after a long long wait and George was sure he was going to melt into a puddle of water if he didn't calm himself.

"You're literally shaking," Fred said in surprise and he looked down at his hands to see them vibrating badly. "Man up!"

"You'll understand when it's your turn," George muttered bitterly and fixed his shirt for the hundredth time that night.

"It'll be fine, George. Everything will be perfect," he tried to encourage.

"Hope so too".

"George!" A voice called from downstairs and it sounded hurried.

"Comin' mum!" He called back and took one last look in the mirror.

He saw himself staring back, decked in black jeans and a crimson red shirt. His hair styled a little but kept unruly, just the way Ophelia liked. His face was the definition of nervousness in that moment.

He let out a deep sigh before going downstairs and out in the backyard where everybody had gathered.

Unconsciously his eyes searched for that one person in the crowd, head turning as he tried to find his girl.

"You're so whipped that it's adorable," Ginny interrupted his thoughts with a small laugh.

"I'm not whipped," he scoffed.

"Mhmm, not like you were searching for Lia in the crowd or anything," she grinned knowingly and he rolled his eyes.

"Nervous?" She asked. She knew about his plan, everyone in the family did except for Ophelia of course.

"Yeah," he said and ran his fingers through his hair.

"I know it'll be fine. Don't worry," she consoled and he nodded. "Oh wait- there she is!"

Saying so she disappeared and George looked confused before turning towards where his sister had run off to.

As his eyes landed on Ophelia, he felt his breath hitch and could hear his heart starting to take up speed. His mouth was left slightly open and a deep red blush coated his neck.

She looked gorgeous in that dress. Though it was really simple, it complimented her figure perfectly. She was walking with Remus next to her, a small on her face as she hugged Ginny who was the first to reach there.

Ophelia laughed and let go of the youngest Weasley, and looked around for the birthday boy and made her way towards him.

"Happy birthday Har," she said softly and pulled the boy in a hug. Her being proud of him in some kind of way.

"Thanks Lia," Harry smiled and hugged her back tightly.

"Let's cut the cake then!" Molly announced and everybody cheered.

George went over to stand beside Ophelia and her eyes brightened on seeing him.

"You're looking handsome, mister," she grinned and smoothed his silk shirt.

"You're beautiful," he said back in some strange breathlessness. His face in genuine awe as he looked at her and admired her natural and raw beauty.

She just smiled shyly and turned away as Harry started cutting his birthday cake.

The cake was cut, gifts were given and all of the people congratulated the birthday boy once again and wished him happiness.

And when the noises had settled down to low whispers, everyone except for Ophelia kept glancing at George, waiting for him to say something.

"George!" Fred muttered in his ear. "Do something now!"

"I- Alright," he breathed and swallowed heavily. His hands fumbling with the buttons of his shirt as he slowly walked to his love who was laughing with her Dad.

The atmosphere in the air changed drastically as everybody fell silent and watched the scene play out.

"L- Love?" He stuttered and face-palmed internally. His heart hammering inside his chest as she turned to face him with a bright smile, not noticing that she was the center of everyone's attention.

"Yeah?"

"C- Come with me will ya? Just for a minute, wanna talk".

She furrowed her eyebrows but nodded and took his extended palm. Only when she started walking did she realise that all eyes were on her. She shot them a questioning look but they just grinned and smirked.

"Anything wrong, George?" She asked softly once they were in the living room.

"No, nothing's wrong. I just wanted to- talk about something," he said nervously.

"Go on then," she said and smiled uncertainly.

He stepped closer to her and took both of her hands in his, holding her fingers gently. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to steady himself before opening them and feeling his heart skip a beat at the sight of those caramel-brown eyes.

"I've been meaning to talk about this for a long time, it was torturing my brain. And I think the thought of you leaving for a long time finally got the courage out of me".

Ophelia nodded slowly, still a lot confused by his words that didn't have a context yet.

He felt his heart slow down as he spoke, feeling more at ease now as he decided to just pour his heart out, not caring about what random things he'll say. Just wanting them to be genuine enough.

"We've been together for a long time, and honestly these years were one of the best in my entire life. Of course I had you as my best friend first, and I loved those precious moments too. Apart from Fred and my family, you were the one to know me well inside out. Still do as a matter of fact. And I wanna tell you how thankful I am for our friendship, for our little infinity," he smiled.

Ophelia didn't know what to say so she just nodded, hoping he'd see the love in her eyes and he did.

"And then by some miracle you became my girlfriend, and I was happier than ever. So grateful to have you by my side, grateful for getting someone who comforted me, made me laugh, and made me cry," he let out a small laugh and you did too.

"And we graduated and I thought maybe, you'd fall out of love or something. But our bond just got stronger, we were much closer than before. And somehow I was once again in love with you. I fell in love with your bravery, your smartness, your humour, your stupidity, your caring nature, just everything. I love you, and I think that's pretty much the beginning and end of everything".

"George," she murmured softly. "Why are you planning to make me cry?"

He chuckled and cupped her cheeks now, "Cuz darling I don't think you know the impact you have on my life. I love the way you make me feel, as though I'm the only guy in the world, it makes me feel all giddy and flustered. I think I'm the luckiest man alive when you hug me, or kiss me".

"It was because of you that I got to know how meeting your soulmate was really like. You know, falling for you wasn't falling at all. It was like walking into a house and suddenly knowing you're home. I always used to think of how love would feel like, and I think I got the answer now," he gave her a toothy grin.

"Yeah?" She asked with teary eyes and pressed her lips together.

"I did. All those times we used to run around like idiots on the grounds? That was love for me. All those times when we slow danced late in the night? That was love for me. All those kisses we shared in the kitchens? That was love for me. All those late night talks, playful conversations, loving glances, comforting touches, consoling words, laughable memories? That was love for me".

"One night I just looked at you and couldn't describe what I was feeling. My heart was beating like crazy and I was scared it will burst out. My face was hurting from smiling so widely, my insides were swarmed with fireworks and calmness at the same time. And I knew then, this was what love felt like".

Ophelia felt a tear drop down her cheeks at his heartfelt words. She looked down but he gently lifted her face with his fingers.

"I know you might be thinking that why am I pouring out my entire heart to you so suddenly. But I wanted you to know just how much I love you before I do this".

Before she could ask what did he mean, he pulled out the black box from his pocket and opened it, revealing the magnificent ring.

Ophelia's hands went to cover her mouth in shock, and her eyes widened.

He just smiled and said, "It's not a wedding ring. We decided not to marry soon and I respect that. It's a promise ring, my love".

She looked at him, an uncountable amount of happiness on her face as tears continued to escape from her shining eyes.

He pulled the ring from the cushion and put the box back inside his pocket, "This ring is an oath. A vow. A promise. That I'll always love you and I will marry you someday. It means that I choose to spend the rest of my life with you right here by my side. It means that I'm willing to love you deeply, dearly and constantly, for the rest of my life".

He cleared his throat and gazed intensely into her eyes, "Will you, Ophelia Lupin? Will you accept this small token of love from me. This small promise that one day, whenever that will be, I will make you my wife. I choose you, my love. Will you choose me? And of course, no measure of time will ever be enough for me, but shall we start with forever?"

Ophelia was speechless as she looked back at him. Her heart ached with happiness and an unbelievable amount of love for this man.

All she could do was whisper a small, "Yes. I'd choose you too. In a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality. I'll always choose you".

And that was all the confirmation he needed and he slowly slipped the ring onto the little finger of her right hand. The finger by which they had made all of their promises, whether it be big or small.

She laughed and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly and he did the same. "I adore you".

"I love you too," he smiled and at long last, he pressed his lips against hers.

This kiss was filled with all of those unsaid feelings, indescribable actions, and untold words they had.

The two stayed close before pulling away, faces beaming brightly.

"Shall we go out now?" He asked and she nodded immediately.

The couple walked out and as soon as everyone caught sight of them, there was chaos and they all rushed over.

"Did he do it?!"

"Oh my god, George Fabian I didn't know you had it in you. You're a lucky man to get such a wonderful girl".

"Show me the ring!"

Ophelia laughed at the comments and held up her right hand to show the promise ring glittering there.

"Godric it's beautiful," Hermione smiled in awe and hugged the older girl.

The Weasleys were all smothering George with hugs and kisses as they kept on chanting of how proud they were. The boy smiled and accepted every loving action.

"So my sister will get married soon now?" Harry asked teasingly and brought her in a hug. Him being ecstatic at her getting the perfect life partner.

"I don't know that but don't you think you'll escape from my presence so quickly, Hazza. I'll always be there to haunt you in some way with every nickname possible," Ophelia grinned mischievously.

Harry couldn't help but laugh exasperatedly at her behaviour and he pushed her in the direction of Mrs Weasley who was crying tears of joy.

"You were always the perfect choice for my son. I had you selected for him since the start," Molly admitted and she smiled.

After almost everyone had congratulated Ophelia, she frowned after realising that one person hadn't even talked to her. She looked around in search of a familiar head of sandy-brown curls similar to her own.

"He's there," Mr Weasley said and pointed to where Remus was standing, leaning against a tree and gazing ahead.

"Why's he there? Did- did he not like George giving me the ring? Maybe it was too soon for him, I-"

"Ophelia," Arthur smiled and calmed her panicked comments. "He's not angry, he doesn't disapprove. He's your father, of course he's happy for you but there's also this sadness in his heart. And I think you know why".

"I'll go talk to him," she muttered and almost ran up to his spot.

Remus turned around at the sound of footsteps and Ophelia caught sight of his cheeks stained with tears. Her heart twisted as she pulled him in a hug quickly.

He squeezed his eyes shut as more tears started falling, he wrapped his arms around his little girl that wasn't so little anymore. Enjoying and savouring every moment until they disappeared.

"Pa?" She whispered and he could see her eyes glistening too, a carbon copy of his and he smiled. "You're happy aren't you?"

"What makes you think I'm not?" He questioned gently and wiped her tears first, not even caring about his own.

"Why'd you leave? You were here all alone".

"Just got a little emotional. It's not everyday you see your only daughter being given a promise ring. I swear it's nothing more".

But she knew there was a lot more than he was letting on. His lips were pressed tightly and stretched in a smile that he put on for her sake.

"You know I'll never leave you, right?"

But he didn't say anything and looked away, and she got the answer.

"Dad," she said softly and he turned his head back to her. "I've probably never told you this before but I'm telling this now. And you be sure to listen carefully, okay?"

Remus nodded and did listen to everything she said intently.

"It didn't matter to me how many boys came in my life. Some left, some stayed for awhile, and George was the one who chose to stay forever. But leaving all of that aside, you were the only man to ever be there since the start and continue being there, Pa".

He smiled at that and she did too, hoping he would understand the importance he'll always and forever have in her life.

"And yeah I'll get married someday, but so what? You'll still be the first man I ever loved and who loved me. And don't you think for a second that after marriage I'll stop visiting you or some shit like that. Because you're solely mistaken then, Mr Lupin. 'Cause let me confirm the fact that I will always continue to annoy you, will continue to steal your chocolates and sweaters until you get tired and will continue to pull pranks".

He laughed fondly and pulled his daughter in his arms again. His heart felt considerably lighter now.

"And if you think that my future husband will refuse me visiting you frequently. Then let me tell you that first of all, it won't ever happen as I have Molly Weasley with me. Secondly, I'll fight him to death if he does dare to refuse, which I know he won't but yeah. I'm going to drop in every single day to take my daily dose of chocolate and coffee".

"You're always welcome," he smiled and they turned to see George approaching them.

"What were you talking about?" He asked amusedly and looked between the two.

"My plans for fighting you if you ever refuse me to pay Dad a visit," she answered brightly.

"Like I'll ever do that!" He exclaimed.

"I know you won't," she said. "Just a precautionary measure, future husband".

"Go wild with the ideas," he rolled his eyes and Remus smiled at the pair. Knowing they really were perfect for each other.

Remus thought for a moment and then pulled George in a hug, much to the younger one's surprise but delight too.

"Take care of her," he whispered. "You're a good man, I know you will keep her happy".

"I promise I will," George said and he nodded, a pleased expression on his face.

"Come on now, Dad! We gotta have some of that hot chocolate!" Ophelia pouted and tugged at his arm and he was suddenly reminded of her as a little child.

Remus and George shared a grin and he wrapped his arm around his daughter's shoulder as she dragged him towards the food table.

"Pa?" She asked, her honey eyes meeting his. "I love you, and thank you so much for everything. I never really say it that much, but I do appreciate it".

"Always, darling. I love you too," he smiled softly and she returned it happily.

#remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fic #remus lupin daughter #remus lupin #remus lupin x daughter #father and daughter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom #harry potter ff #harry potter #harry potter marauders #george weasley fluff #george weasley fic #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley #george weasley x fem

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