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fukurodaze · 4 years

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october

pairing: third year!tsukishima kei x third year!fem!reader genre: fluff, suggestive word count: 2.7k warnings: cursing, mentions of hickeys, makeout session hehe synopsis: “tsukishima” and “high school sweetheart” are a unique combination of words

LISTEN TO: lowkey - niki; used to you - mxmtoon

lowercase intended!

nobody knows about this.

nobody knows about his offhand banter and longing gazes. if you and kei go back exactly five months from today, you’d be asking him a question about the research assignment as you were about to leave the library and he surprisingly follows his answer up with “i’m going home too. come with?”

nobody knows him on facetime, staying late until his eyes can barely open after a blink. you’re used to his texts, somehow so much funnier and warmer than everyone seems to know him. and maybe one day he’d kissed you; on the right temple, as you fell asleep on your bed; on the back of your shoulder, when he did it subconsciously during a movie. and maybe you kissed him too; a short peck on the lips when he went home through your front door; another on his calloused and bandaged hands after a block had left it bruised.

nobody knows that now, you’re straddling the boy you’ve known for a while as you suck his tongue until he gets breathless. his hands roam up and down your body, finding themselves under your shirt and holding onto the bare skin of your waist like he can never let go. when he tugs on the hem of your shirt, bunching it up your torso, you let him take it off, the moment away from his lips making you realise his lips are swollen and his glasses have been thrown somewhere on your bed. you freeze for a bit when he spends a little too long staring at your body, and you freeze even more when you realise you’re not wearing the bra you would’ve liked for this occasion, but you’re cut off when he starts nipping on your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses as he mumbles, “you don’t have to suck in your stomach.”

you relax a little, small whimpers coming out of your mouth as he continues to work on your neck, the little shocks of pleasure filling your senses as hands on bare skin start to feel more familiar than foreign. you could get used to this.

“wait, don’t leave any, uh, marks or hickeys or whatever,” you breathe, “people might see.”

he hums, and yet his grip on you tightens as you think he’s coming back to your lips, but he doesn’t. he just stops there, face inches away as his lips barely ghost yours. he purses his lips for a second, like he’s thinking of something to say, but the microwave makes its strange appearance when it beeps loud enough to make you jump a little in his lap. he still holds you close.

so, so close. and nobody else knows.

“i’ll get the popcorn.” right, because tonight you had planned to watch a movie with him. like the usual - talk, cuddle, whatever.

come to think of it, your relationship with kei sounds weird; feelings so well understood without ever being spoken. you liked it at first, when he told you he liked you on a saturday morning, your reciprocated feelings tasting of warm rice and milky eggs and an unspoken convention that this stayed between you two and you two only. but as the days passed, and the thrill of a secret relationship wore off, you’ve started to wonder how it would feel like to be able to show people that, yes, tsukishima kei is your boyfriend, and yes, you like him very much.

when you take your shirt, he says, “wear my hoodie. it’s cold.”

you grin when you hear that, opting to simply wear his hoodie without a shirt underneath. it’s the same black hoodie he wears literally all the time and probably doesn’t wash regularly (which is gross) but if there’s one thing you learned about these feelings is that you couldn’t care less.

when you pick up the popcorn, kei only lays against the headboard of your bed, feeling slightly empty at the words he’d heard from you. serves him right, he thinks as he picks his glasses back up; this relationship, or whatever it is, isn’t something both of you wanted everyone to know. he’d get sick of all the attention, and there was probably no need for the two of you to share everything. it’s high school anyways, who knows how long it’s going to last.

yet, when you come back into his room, lips soft and hair tousled, holding a bowl of fragrant popcorn, kei finds himself letting go of those thoughts.

you take a seat on the floor against your bed frame, already having set up the laptop in the middle of the floor. you motion to the boy on the bed to come down, and he brings your entire duvet with him.

as he settles next to you, your shoulder touching his upper arm, you set the popcorn in the space where your knee meets his thigh, over the blanket. the movie you two had decided on earlier tonight starts playing, and you feel your head slide into the crook of kei’s neck, like it always does.

the night starts off slow; just the two of you making remarks at the movie, laughing at plot holes and cliches. then, by halfway, the bowl of popcorn is empty; as the protagonist kisses their love interest, you feel a flush up your cheeks; and as the movie ends, kei’s arm is around your waist, pulling you into his side. it’s a pretty shitty movie.

“well, that was a shitty movie.”

“agreed,” you grunt as you stand up to place the bowl of popcorn on your desk, to be taken out at a later time. you fold your laptop onto your desk as well, and kei gets the cue to sprawl your duvet back onto your bed. it’s only nine pm. you climb back in your bed, motioning for him to come with you, too.

slowly, his tall figure holds yours in an embrace filled with something you could only identify as care and affection. and here, especially with his glasses off, sight blurry and only really being able to see you in full focus, it makes you grin at how strikingly different he can be in your room and at school. not that you had ever seen him at school very often, as most of your relationship was crafted of video calls and secret little dates in the night.

you wonder if he’ll grow out of this.

“oh my god, something kind of funny happened today after the english exam,” you chuckle, your head resting comfortably on kei’s chest. he lets out a questioning hum.

“the girls in my class thought i was seeing osawa,” you stifle a laugh, “at me they were like, you’re definitely dating a guy from the basketball club.”

“wait, how’d they know you were dating someone?”

“word got out. they asked for details, and i told them he was in a sports club.”

“they didn’t think about the volleyball club?”

you shake your head, “they did, but they literally went - ‘we know it can’t be kageyama or tsukishima, so, yamaguchi?’” kei snickers at those words, remembering that even the boys in the volleyball club don’t know about you.

“i love how they just glossed over the chances of you with either me or kageyama,” kei tsks, “and who’s osawa?”

you roll your eyes, hearing his voice tinted with a bit of jealousy when he hears other people think you’d go better with this random guy at school. “he’s a guy i partnered up with for biology. why?”

“nothing. just good to know.”

“alright, whatever.” you flip over, your chin now pressing on the backs of your hands on his chest. your grin is wide.

“your hoodie smells like sweat,” kei says, trying to divert the topic away from your eventual accusations of jealousy.

“it’s your hoodie, asshole!” you jokingly exclaim, and he pulls the hood up to your head. you look cute, he thinks, even with his over-worn hoodie and messy hair. it’s in moments like these, when the both of you let go of the fronts you put up at school, and just live like nobody else exists. of course, it will all be over in a few hours, but that’s not to say he doesn’t secretly text you under the desk during class or that you don’t have the liberty of an extra pack of chips in your locker from the early mornings kei has practice.

“okay, but, hoodie aside, you could’ve just said i was your boyfriend.”

you like the sound of it; something so distant yet so close. so you make him repeat it again, “wait, what did you say?”

kei exhales through his mouth, “you could’ve just said i was your boyfriend.”

“would you like a boyfriend badge with that?” you tease.

“shut up. at least it sounds better than you and osawa,” he mumbles, sitting up, leaning on his arms. “not that anyone would ever know about us.”

your arms wrap around your boyfriend’s neck. his eyes stare straight into yours, and though he still feels uneasy at first, he likes the feeling of you so near him, so warm and fluttery in his stomach. it makes you hope, at least, in the way he’s looking at you, that he might want to show you off more than he lets on.

“you know, kei, it wouldn’t hurt for some people to know about us,” you mutter, almost a whisper, and he catches your words perfectly.

“but i hate how everyone shits on couples all the time.”

“no, you just shit on couples all the time.”

he sighs defeatedly, “okay, but everyone’s just gonna be annoying when they know. like they’re shoving their noses into our business.”

“yeah, but-”

“on top of that, my mom would constantly nag me about the details of our relationship. i don’t need everyone knowing so much about us.”

you fall silent, running out of things to say. admittedly, the way he’s so quick to shut down all your reasons is getting to you.

“see? there’s no point in other people knowing.” kei’s hands run under your hoodie to caress your bare skin. he likes the way you shiver slightly from the sudden coolness of his fingers, but it does give you an idea.

“i’ll let you leave marks under my school blouse.”

“as hot as that is, no.”

you groan, slouching against his larger frame. you shift your weight onto him, making him fall back on the bed, and you settle with lying beside him. kei, like the reluctant cuddle bug you’ve found him out to be, immediately wraps an arm around your torso, like every second spent at your house that doesn’t involve his limbs intertwined with yours is a second wasted.

you exhale through your mouth, “kei, i just wanted to be proud.”

his grip tightens.

“like, we don’t have to tell everyone what happens between us every single day, but, god damn, i don’t want to keep sneaking you in like this, or having to send you off at like, four in the morning so nobody knows you were here.”

“do you care more about what other people think than how i feel?” now you’re letting it out. you realise you’re frustrated - so fucking frustrated - that you barely even get to see him every week because of school and clubs, and that you don’t even get to save his contact on your phone under his own name in fear that people might find out. all because nobody knows.

“no, i care about-”

“i want to hold your hand in public, kei. is that too much to ask?”

you take a deep breath, sitting up against the headboard, “my friends think i bail on them all the time. i want to tell them it’s because i’m going to see my boyfriend instead of some lame excuse, kei. and i want to cheer you on at the spring high nationals in january, because you talk to me about volleyball so much and i want to see my boyfriend do what he’s been working so hard for.”

there’s a hanging silence in the air, coupled with the whirring of your heater. you can’t make eye contact with him - what if he gets mad? your fingers fiddle with the string of his hoodie, knotting it and untying the knot. and it’s only then that he sees you, gaze unsure and lips pursed, that he knows what to do.

it’s not so bad, kei thinks. he wouldn’t have to save your number under a name that’s not exactly yours, and he wouldn’t have to always rush to leave because he has “something coming up”. he can walk you to class in the mornings when you arrive after his morning practices, and it’s like he can imagine the way he’ll hold your hand and make sure everyone knows you’re with him. his train of thought might have gone a bit too far, but he can’t deny the thought of wanting to show you off as his. hell, he’s had a crush on you since your second year (though he’ll never tell you or anyone), and now that he’s got the girl, he might as well be proud of it, too.

so he comes up and kisses you. chastely. “okay.”

you give him a flick to his shoulder, earning an ‘ow’ from him. “that’s it? okay?”

“you said i could leave marks as long as it’s gonna be covered by your blouse, right?”

another finger flick, to his forehead this time, “you asshole.” but you smile. you know him.

when you pull his lips to yours, this time, he makes sure to keep you busy with his hands around your body and your hands in his hair, shirts and hoodies being pulled up to eventually be taken off. suddenly, he stops, and it’s only then that you hear something that you’ve only barely heard once before, on a warm saturday morning when it was summer, months away from today’s october.

“i really, really like you, y/n. and i’m not afraid of that.”

as he cradles you in his touch, kisses trailing down your jaw and beginning at your collarbone, you make sure to ask if he’s okay with reusing the same uniform he wore today for tomorrow. his answer slips out easily; yes.

“is it always this cold in the mornings when you practice?” you tighten the scarf around your neck, shoving your hands into your coat. kei hums in response as you two near the gym.

“to be fair, you could’ve worn tights. doesn’t help when you’re basically half naked in the winter.”

“wearing a skirt does not mean i’m half-naked, kei.” you scoff, but you do take a mental note to start dressing warmer for the coming seasons.

“i’m just saying, the wind can just go up your skirt-”

his sentence is cut short when a louder, higher-pitched voice runs through.

“woah! tsukishima’s with a girl?” you recognise it as one of the kids in class 3-2, hinata shoyo. his orange hair isn’t exactly easy to miss. behind him is the boy you recognise as kageyama tobio, remembering the way kei would sometimes slip in a snarky mention of his name on the nights he’d call you from his training camp in tokyo. you introduce yourself to the two boys.

“why is that such a surprise to you?” kei points out sharply. a number of second and first years pass by the three of you, and they exchange casual good mornings.

“i think i’ve seen you around. are you friends with kana-san?” hinata names one of the girls in your class, and you nod, telling him you’re pretty close to her.

"are you going to be watching us practice?” hinata asks, and as you look frantically between kei and hinata, you tell him, “yeah, is that okay for you guys?” kageyama and hinata nod.

you don’t miss it when kei takes your hand and intertwines your fingers with his. it makes you feel a little warmer in chilly weather. it makes you smile.

“go ask team captain over there,” kei shrugs, cocking his head at yamaguchi, who currently has a content smile on his face.

“so this is your girlfriend!”

you immediately snap your head at kei, as if silently telling him no fair, how come yamaguchi knew all along?! kei shrugs, “he saw me going to your locker one day.”

you roll your eyes before introducing yourself the same way you did to hinata and kageyama, and you hear kageyama huff out, “she looks too nice for you.”

kei scoffs, “well, that’s rich coming from you. maybe you’re forgetting how-”

“alright, tsukki, let’s just go up to the clubroom first.” yamaguchi thankfully cuts in, letting hinata and kageyama go to the gym first.

“oh, y/n-san, you can go to the gym first, too, since we’re going to be changing in the clubroom. we don’t want you to wait outside, after all.” yamaguchi adds, and as you let go of kei’s hand with a reassuring smile, hinata takes it upon himself to make even more conversation with you on the way to the gym. you find his and kageyama’s company entertaining.

“if he’s you’re boyfriend, does he, like, insult you all the time?” kageyama blurts out, his words making you break into smiles.

you giggle, swatting your hands, saying no, no. it makes you realise how different he really is when he isn’t with you.

your hand wanders to the uniform bow around your collar, and you play with the ends of it, the area of your body reminding you of the hickeys you saw littered around your chest and collarbone this morning. when you told kei about it, he only shrugged with the most smug face you’ve ever seen. thank god for collared uniforms.

“so, y/n-san, how’s tsukishima as a boyfriend?” hinata chimes in.

you catch your lip in between your teeth, sucking in a soft inhale. you wonder if you could tell them that he’s the guy that buys you your favourite snacks on the way back from volleyball practice, or that he puts all your favourite songs into his daily playlist so that he can sing along with you when he comes over. still, even after the news about your relationship, you think there’s no harm in keeping some things private. so you exhale.

“he’s an asshole,” you laugh, gleeful, “such an asshole.”

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kuroos-moon · 3 years

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Captains and Strong Independent S/o’s

☁︎︎ request: Oikawa, Kuroo and either Bokuto or Ushijima (I cant choose!) reacting to a (fem or g/n) reader who does some type of martial art and they’re kinda tough/strong and (maybe they’re the team manager and they don’t take no shit) and the captains kinda crush on them for it? (I like to imagine Oikawa having a tough gf who stops Iwa from being mean to him and jokingly threatens Iwa that if he wants to hurt Tohru he has to go through her

☁︎︎ pairing: oikawa x reader, kuroo x reader, ushijima x reader

☁︎︎ warning/s: swearing, felt a bit of angst while writing for ushijima’s idk why tho it might just be my imagination :>

☁︎︎ a/n: also dont know if it’s obvious but i kinda got carried away with ushijima’s

Oikawa Tohru

• is a smug little shit every time you’re with him or in the same room at least

• like,, he could piss Iwa-chan off to death and he won’t get hurt for it? now this is what he calls power

• sincerely loves and adores you, but at first, he kinda got sad that you’re so self-sufficient, you practically don’t need him

• but he’s now long accepted that you’re just so you… and in your relationship, it’s you who does the protecting and looking out by a whole lot (ofc it doesn’t mean he loves you less)

• that’s why he gets so so soft when he gets his turn in being the person who’s leaned on

• as their manager, he loves how you get things done so effectively, even Kyotani bows down to you, as he should—he always says in his head, smiling as he looks at the feral boy getting flustered around you

• he listens to you all the time and we all know Tohru backing down is so rare

“Oy, you’re overdoing it, let’s go.”

“Head home without me, Iwa-chan,” he mutters mindlessly as he screws up another serve, a scowl on his face as he bends down to get another ball; but he freezes at an instant upon Iwaizumi’s words—no, Iwaizumi’s threat.

“Suit yourself, I’ll call y/n.”

Oikawa has never changed stance so quickly in his life, cleaning up the gym as he sends smiles to his best friend’s way every five seconds, hoping he won’t tell on him on his cute but scary girl who could easily kick him unconscious.

• he uses your name to threaten anyone who wants to cross him and they will back down immediately

• also likes to show off because he knows you treasure him so much; he likes to be babied by you especially in front of others

“y/n-chan c’mere,” he softly says, whining a bit. The rest of his team look at the both of you in astonishment as you take the captain in your arms, Tohru’s cheek on your shoulder, looking back at the bewildered look on his teammate’s faces while you sit side by side on the bench.

They could never get used to someone as tough as you having such the softest spot for Shittykawa… like how could you even stand him?

“Really tired,” he mumbles, a small smile on his lips when you run your fingers through his hair. “I know, you were great as always, let’s head home so you could rest.”

“Y/n-chan, today, Iwa-chan hit my head when you were out to get water. It really hurt,” he says, still in your embrace as he smirks at his teammates.

Their mouths fall open, Iwaizumi’s eye twitching in irritation for his shitty best friend.

“And Maki-chan…” Hanamaki grits his teeth, looking at him pleadingly in panic as his mind runs through everything he did today, wondering what he could’ve done to your beloved. “He ate my milk bread; I was really hungry.”

Yup, Maki and Iwaizumi knew there was hell to pay, gulping in unison when you pull away from your boyfriend and narrow your eyes at them.

“Iwa-chan. I thought we agreed you weren’t hitting Tohru again.”

A chill runs down his spine, Tohru simply looks at you with pride, pulling you into his lap as he wraps his arms around your waist before you get the chance to throw hands at Iwaizumi.

Kuroo Tetsuro

• loves loves LOVES your remarks, your attitude, the way you take no crap from anyone, like “ah, he’s scared shitless, that’s my girl”

• dw, you’re not a thug or anything, but men who force their feelings on you will see heaven’s gates early

• and kuroo’s so pleased about it. sure, he’d love to get the chance to act all cool and brooding and possessive in front of other suitors but what’s more fun is watching their dejected faces as you say—

• “how many times do I have to turn you down? I have my tetsuro, now back the fuck off or I’ll break your nose.”

• you had no idea he was just outside your classroom waiting for you, arms crossed and a cocky grin stretching his lips when you lock eyes with him

• “chibi-chan!” he calls off cheerily, and you bet he’ll tease you about it til death do you part

• “don’t just stand there, give your tetsuro a hug!”

• laughs about how your friendly banters with yamamoto always end up with you winning the argument

• you rub off as mean bc you won’t take any disrespect, even a little—and that’s great

• those are one of the things he loves about you

• but he’s always worried you might get hurt or hated for it, though he knows you are very much capable of beating anyone up even kuroo himself

• so he’s always holding you back, and I can’t stress this enough, but this man knows you could fend for yourself and he is so proud you’re his partner

• he just wants to make certain that no one’ll hurt you, okay kitten?

• your conversations often go like this:

“I’ll beat up whoever tries to lay a hand on me.”

“don’t say such reckless things, you’re not superman.”

“uhuh, geez, I’ll be fine, I don’t need you to walk me home.”

“well news flash, your tetsuro, needs his y/n to walk him ho—ow,” he mutters when you slap his chest.

“go home with kenma.”

“I don’t want kenma,” he scowls, already irked that this is turning into an argument.

“too bad,” you deadpan.

“ugh,” he groans, “imagine a girlfriend who actually listens to you, just imagine.”

• he is the one and only person you’ll gladly accept lectures from, bc his lectures are always reasonable and for your own good

after checking and verifying that you were completely okay, you knew he was about to go down to business.

“you got into a fight? What are you? a thug?” he crosses his arms. You were both inside the gym along with the rest of his teammates who looked like they were far too preoccupied to listen. They were all clearly listening in though, except Kenma of course.

watching your figures from a few feet away, it was obvious that he was scolding you, and Lev already had a ridiculous visualization of you hitting Kuroo. Everyone was worried you’ll fight him, or maybe even hit him, well, everyone except Kenma, of course.

The setter knew that you would never ever lay a hand on kuroo as if the 6’1 captain was fragile. He also knew that you loved and respected kuroo too much to actually get agitated just because he was scolding you, you aren’t an unreasonable person. Lastly, he knew that kuroo would be going soft on you in five minutes tops, his best friend is hopeless like that.

Kenma was right, he always is. Your back is glued to the wall behind you, Kuroo’s hand beside your head, his face extremely close to yours that you’re left flustered which is rare.

After you were rambling on about how you had to put that girl in her place, going off about how it made you so mad and he should cut you some slack, he knew just how to shut you up. And it worked. You’re speechless.

“what was that again, hm? go on, you surely had a lot to say,” he mutters, acting all tough as if he wasn’t dying to just kiss you now. when you don’t respond and stare at him and his lips instead, he already gives in. yes, just like that. “you were wrong to do that, okay?” he breathes, the worry from earlier on making its way out through his voice.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

Locking lips with you, you pull him closer to yourself, and kuroo had purposely decided to kabedon you on this wall since his broad back would be shielding the two of you from his teammates’ line of sight.

After pulling away, he pats your head, licking his lips. “I forgive you, I’m not mad anymore.” You look away in embarrassment, realizing how petty you must’ve seemed to him. He sighs before hugging you, chin atop your head.

“Make this the last time, okay? I swear you’re shortening my lifespan having me worried all the time.”

You hug him tighter as a response, kuroo letting out a breath of contentment. Regardless of how tough you are outside; you are and always will be his soft little kitten and it was his greatest honor that you allow him to take care of you like this.

Ushijima Wakatoshi

• is probably a little too used to the idea of his most treasured girlfriend being extremely capable and self-sufficient

• his teammates would always look at him like ‘why are you not stepping in,’ every time you’re in a tough spot i.e. having an argument with someone or having a too-touchy suitor

• then they’d be like “oh, that’s why,” after you flung the despicable creature out to space

• he thinks so highly of you, not only are you physically strong, you’re even tougher on the inside too

• this is kinda a given but I’ll say it anyway—he can be unintentionally insensitive (well your relationship is kinda new)

• example no 1:

you were arguing with goshiki and while he would normally like to ignore you and let you have your way; he was getting annoyed bc the argument was far too petty.

“I’m gonna surpass him!”

“and I’m telling you that you ca-

your mouth is clamped with a big hand, and it took you only a second to realize it was Wakatoshi because only he would have the nerve to lay a hand on you like this. he still doesn’t say anything, dragging you with him in an empty hallway for privacy.

finally after you stopped walking, he turns to you and looks at you expectantly. “what was that for? Did you even wash your hand,” you mutter, slightly annoyed.

“I haven’t touched the ball yet, don’t worry,” he lowly says, making you sulk because he totally missed your point. “still, you didn’t have to make me shut up by clamping your hand against my mouth.” He’s too… not gentle with you sometimes.

“you were going to say something you shouldn’t to goshiki.”

“he said something he shouldn’t have.”

he only narrows his eyes at you and you do the same, anyone from your class would’ve been scared at the sight. You were both known as the cutest yet intimidatingly scary couple.

• you were in the early stages of dating and though you understood each other well, it wasn’t really enough yet

• it’s all good though, because once you tell him that he was too uncaring of you and your feelings he does something that no other man would do:

• apologize, admit his mistake, reflect on it a lot and,,, actually change!!

• he’s much softer to you after that, and he finally realizes that you were still his precious girl and you were sensitive when it came to him

• cursed himself for being too reliant on how you never seemed sensitive or needy

• doesn’t dwell too much on regret, just treats you 100x times better

• is fascinated with your passion for martial arts but is against you overdoing training

• one time, he was torn between dragging you out of practice or just turning a blind eye to your visible exhaustion since you’re always so tough anyway, you’ll manage

• but then he remembers his promise to himself to never treat you like you aren’t the most special person to him so he excuses himself from practice and heads to your training room

you sat alone, your back to the wall. everyone else has gone home but you stayed because your muscles were too sore and you felt like you couldn’t even walk for another day. maybe it had something to do with how you’ve been training too much.

you’re startled upon seeing shoes on the floor you blankly stared at, looking up to meet eyes with Ushijima. “Wakatoshi,” you say in surprise.

he is expressionless as he bends down across you between your legs, and you had to admit this was something you weren’t used to from him. “are you okay?” he asks, his voice soft as velvet. you’re taken aback by his question, looking away in embarrassment.

Wakatoshi rarely asks you that, and most of the time it was only when you said the word ‘ow’ when you accidentally hit something. you clear your throat, bringing your hands together to play with your fingers, “I’m okay.”

it was silent for a few seconds before you hear him sigh, not only that, warm, gentle hands had found its way to yours and you look at him, bewildered. “is this okay?” he asks, looking down at both your hands and you nod. “your hands are much smaller, compared to mine at least.” he says, but you’re too flustered to even understand that.

“are other things okay too?” he asks, and like his former statement, you didn’t understand. your silence doesn’t stop him though, he decided to push his luck. tugged gently by your wrist, your back’s no longer pressed to the wall as ushijima wakatoshi pulls you in his arms for the first time in your very few months of dating.

“wakatoshi,” you mumble, your heart racing so much you’re sure he feels it against his chest. he’s so warm, welcoming, and in his loving hold felt like the rightest place to be. “you’re not feeling okay.”

you don’t respond, opting to bury your face at the crook of his neck instead. “I’m here, I know you’re tired.”

you both stay in that position for a long time, it was addicting to be cradled in his arms and he felt the same. “y/n,” he whispers, and you hum in response.

“you’re strong. very strong. you don’t need a man at all.”

your heart skips a beat, “toshi are you breaking up with me?”

you hear a soft chuckle ring in your ears, “let me finish. as I said, you’re very strong. you look like you’re always so tough. but you’re not, and so…” he trails off, so you pull away to look at him, hesitance evident in his eyes, his palm still pressed at the small of your back.

“you’re not always strong. in fact if I dare say, you are fragile, and I care about you. so please, allow me to be there for you all the time, I’ll be here, just like now.”

General Taglist [Open]: @noyasbitchh @dinablossom @haru-the-secret @strayczennies @lalisbitch @tinymidgetsstuff @animebs @astrealia @kittykitkatstrawberry @hajimesbbygrl @kellesvt @24hr7dysdizzy @arnxldss @elianetsantana @vicassa @floraraine @beanst0ck @leinnah @kageyamasgirl @deafeningart @minibobabottle @franko-pop @moonlightaangel @throughtheinterstices @micasaessakusa @dixonsbugaboo @thevillagehiddenintheinternet @ultzuko @yappychan @dipsydoo542 @devilgirlcrybabiey @dai-tsukki-desu

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #oikawa x reader #kuroo x reader #ushijima x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! scenarios #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu!! headcanons #oikawa tohru #ushijima wakatoshi #kuroo tetsuro

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allthingsfangirl101 · 5 years

Text

Not So Good With Girls–Stuart Twombly

Stuart's POV

I looked over at Y/N and watched her type on her computer. My breath got caught in my throat as she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

"Hey, Stuart." I jumped when I felt someone grab my shoulder. I turned around to see Billy and Nick standing behind me. Nick looked at Y/N and then looked back at me with a smirk on his face.

"What, guys?" I asked trying to sound annoyed as my heart rate went back to normal.

"We were planning on going to Happy Hour later today. You in?" Billy asked.

"Everyone is going," Nick said, glancing at Y/N before turning back to me with a knowing smile.

I glanced at Y/N before quickly clearing my throat, ignoring the look Nick and Billy shared. "Sure," I shrugged trying to be nonchalant.

"Cool," Billy smirked. "Stuart's in!" He yelled making everyone, including Y/N, look at me.

I caught her eye and instantly looked away. I rolled my eyes before turning back towards my computer.

I finished sending the emails I needed to send and started getting ready to head to the bar. I had just logged off my computer when I felt someone walk up behind me.

"I swear if either one of you makes one dumbass comment about. . ."

I turned around and immediately shut my mouth when I saw it was Y/N standing behind me. "Sorry," she laughed, putting her hands up in surrender.

"Sorry, Y/N." I stuttered. "I didn't know. . . I thought. . ." I cleared my throat as I looked up at her smiling face.

"It's okay, Stuart." She smiled. "Anyway, I was wondering if you were going to the bar right away or if you still had work to do. Everyone else is leaving now, but I still needed to finish up some stuff."

"I still have stuff too," I said quickly. I internally kicked myself. I didn't have any work. "Wanna split a cab?" I stuttered.

"Yeah," she smiled. "I should be done in about ten minutes."

"Me too," I stuttered wanting nothing more than to jump out the window. She smiled before turning on her heel and walking back to her desk.

*********************************

"Ready?"

I looked up to see Y/N putting her bag over her shoulder. "Yep," I said popping the 'p'. I cringed at how nerdy that sounded.

The cab ride to the bar was quiet and awkward. Whenever Y/N tried to start a conversation, I would either say something stupid or something she couldn't really respond to.

I let out a sigh of relief as we pulled up to the bar. I quickly paid the driver, not giving Y/N even the chance to object. I jumped out and practically ran into the bar. The second the bouncer let me in, I realized what my actions must have looked like to Y/N.

Me not being able to hold a conversation with her, letting out a very audible sigh of relief when we arrived, quickly paying the cab driver, and running inside the bar.

I groaned when I realized she was probably thinking I didn't want to be stuck in the cab with her. I mentally slapped myself as I turned and saw her walk in. Our eyes met and my heart sank as she immediately looked away.

I watched as she walked over to the group, smiling the second she got to them. I angrily walked the other way and ordered a drink.

"Why are you such an ass, Stuart?" I grumbled as I chugged my beer.

*********************************

The night went on with us drinking too much, laughing too loud, and dancing too obnoxiously.

Well, everyone else did.

I sat at our table, watching them have fun as I drank beer after beer. I readjusted myself as I watched Y/N and Neha dance with each other. Y/N's eyes sparkled, the lights bouncing off of her as she danced.

I let out an annoyed scoff as I looked away and chugged the rest of my drink.

"So," Nick smirked as he sat down next to me. "What's going on between you and Y/N?"

"Nothing," I mumbled as I started to peel the label off my empty beer bottle.

"Really?" He smirked. "You know something, Stuart? You're a shitty liar."

I sent him a glare before rolling my eyes and turning my attention back to Y/N. "It doesn't matter," I sighed. "She would never like an asshole like me."

"You're not an asshole," he sighed. "Well, not that big of an asshole."

"Gee, thanks." I scoffed as I tried to drink from my empty beer. I let out an annoyed sighed as I slammed it down on the table.

"Okay," Nick elongated as he slid the bottle away from me. "Stuart, what makes you think she wouldn't go for you?"

I looked over at him and scoffed. "Because I'm a dick. And she's. . . She's perfect," I said looking back at her. A smile made its' way to my lips as I watched her laugh.

"Wow," Nick laughed causing me to look away from Y/N. "You've got it bad."

He stopped laughing when he saw the glare on my face. "Look," he sighed. "You have just as much of a chance as any of the other guys in this bar. More actually. But, it doesn't mean shit if you ignore her."

"It's not that I don't want to do something. It's that I. . . I can't."

"What do you mean you can't? Why not?" He asked looking between Y/N and I. "I actually think you two would be good together."

"Why?" I scoffed. "She's the amazing, strong, smart, beautiful girl that all the guys instantly fall in love with. I'm just the cocky asshole that no one takes seriously."

"We take you seriously," he laughed as he jokingly jabbed me with his elbow. I looked at him before rolling my eyes and looking down at my hands.

He cleared his throat before sighing. "Back to this whole ‘I can't do something' shit. Why can't you go for it?"

"Because I'm just. . . I'm not so good with girls."

I looked up at Nick when he didn't respond. "What?" I asked when I saw the weird look on his face.

"I just didn't expect you to say that," he laughed. "I thought you were the kind of guy that got all the ladies."

"I mean, I guess I was in high school," I shrugged, looking over at Y/N. "But I don't want an immature 'party girl' or a fling. I want something real. I want someone real."

My cheeks burned red when Y/N noticed I was staring. She sent me a smile as she signaled for me to come dance.

"The first step in getting the girl," Nick laughed. "When she asks you to dance, you dance." I sent him a look before standing up and walking towards our group.

*********************************

Before going back to Google Campus, Nick and Billy had the idea of going to the place that overlooked the San Fransisco bridge. I was sitting on a table a few feet away from the rest of the group, watching the cars drive back and forth across the bridge. I let out a sigh as I saw Nick out of the corner of my eye start walking towards me.

"You should just ask her out," he said as he sat next to me.

I rolled my eyes as I mumbled, "She would never agree to go out with me."

"You never know until you ask," he said patting me on the shoulder before walking back over to everyone else.

I looked at the group and couldn't help but smile as Y/N laughed with Neha. I bit my lip and gathered as much courage as I could.

Before I could stop myself, I jumped off the table and walked over to Y/N. As I got closer, my confidence faltered causing me to slow my pace. I glanced over at Nick who was watching me. He smiled encouragingly at me before turning back to Billy and Lyle.

"Hey Y/N?" I stuttered. She turned around, a smile naturally on her face.

"Hey, Stuart."

"Can we umm. . . Do you want to go for a little walk?" I asked, reaching up and rubbing the back of my neck. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Neha look between the two of us with an excited smile on her face.

"Sure," Y/N shrugged, completely oblivious to our audience.

We walked off towards a path that went through the trees, neither one of us saying anything. I kept going through different ways to phrase it, but came up with nothing.

"Are you okay?" She asked, breaking the silence.

"Yeah well no. . . Well yes. I just. . . I'm terrible with girls." My eyes widened when what I told Nick slipped out.

I looked over at Y/N to see her with a soft smile as she let out a small laugh. "I doubt that," she giggled. "Especially from all the stories." She sent me a playful looking making my stomach do backflips.

"I'm terrible with girls like you," I said quickly. I instantly regretted how that sounded.

"Like me?" I held my breath as she stopped walking. "What do you mean 'girls like me'?"

"I didn't mean. . ." I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. When I opened them again, I turned towards Y/N.

"I meant that as a compliment. I've never met a girl like you, Y/N. You're smart. You're funny. You're definitely the nicest girl I have ever met. You aren't afraid to call me out on my shit, but you also aren't afraid to sit down and listen to all my shit either. And you're beautiful, which is extremely threatening. I mean, you have the smarts and the looks. Not that I only see you as a gorgeous woman, which you are, it's just that's not all that matters."

"Stuart," she smiled as she put her hand on my forearm, interrupting my rambling. "Breathe."

I took a deep breath as I was unable to look away from her enriching Y/E/C eyes. "I like you," I rushed out. I kept talking before she could say anything.

"I really like you and I want to take you on a date. I know that we aren't technically supposed to date, but I'm willing to risk it. I want to risk it. Maybe you don't and if that's true then I'll walk away. We'll finish this summer out like nothing happened and you never have to talk to me again. In fact, maybe we should just pretend this conversation never happened. Okay, bye."

I started to walk away but Y/N quickly caught up to me. She grabbed my wrist, turning me around.

My eyes widened as she instantly pressed her lips to mine. I didn't hesitate to kiss her back. I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her closer to me, as our lips moved in sync.

We pulled away when neither one of us could breathe. I leaned back and looked at her eyes, not knowing what to say.

"I like you too, Stuart." She whispered. I smiled before pressing my lips to hers.

"We should get back," she said between kisses.

I leaned back and nodded. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear before beginning to walk back to the group. I smirked as I caught up to her.

"So, about that date. . ."

#Stuart Twombly #stuart twombly imagines #stuart twombly x reader #dylan o'brien #dylan o'brien imagine

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ae0nx · 5 years

Text

FRUITS BASKET ‘19 EPISODE 23 VS FRUITS BASKET ‘01 EPISODE 19

Ok! We’re finally here! We’re at the beginning of the storm! I’m so nervous... I didn’t know how to do these comparisons especially the storyline in the 2001 version not syncing up completely with the 2019 version. But I’m just gonna try and puzzle piece my way through it, ‘kay? :)

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Also, just some notes that I wanna state about the 2001 version so I don’t keep repeating myself for the next 2-3 weeks:

- I love love love the opening. It breaks my heart and heals it every time I hear it and the images of the characters by doorways/windows/alleyways looking outward and always to the side of the frame is a great artistic choice and metaphor. Also, the lyrics are just simply... everything. ‘Let’s stay together always...’

- Some of the colour choices in clothing (or even the hair) that the characters have are... interesting. I definitely find myself appreciating the newer version as you can tell they put more thought into it, even if I do think the power ranger assigned colours are kinda silly. But really? Kyo wearing pastels?! No way. ...But I kinda love it anyway. Outfit Appreciation: 2.5 stars.

- I adore the music box sounding background music. It really adds a lot of whimsy to the show and kinda reminds me that Fruits Basket in a lot of its elements takes inspiration from fairy tales.

- The English dub voices obviously sound different and in comparison to the 2019 version, you can really tell how much they’ve all matured as VAs. ESPECIALLY Laura Bailey and Jerry Jewell.

- I also adore how ridiculous and mostly comedic the 2001 version is. Which makes the later turn in the anime so much more heartbreaking and tough to watch as it comes as such a shock compared to the tone of the rest of the anime. Unbalanced? Maybe so. But on a shallow kind of level without thinking too hard, I can enjoy it.

- I love 2001!Shigure. Again, it’s a shallow choice and I don’t deny he’s a lot more interesting and fleshed out in the manga/2019!anime. I just like 20-something year old, new-father-to-two-teens-but-he’s-not-like-a-FATHER-he’s-a-’cool-older-brother’ who likes to laze around the house in his kimono and ISN’T MENTALLY TRAUMATISING THEM. Well, without meaning to anyway... AND LOOK HOW CUTE HE IS.

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

Right! Let’s get into it!

This is me knowing the future trauma I’m going to have to go through with this anime.

But in all seriousness, the 2019 version really captured Tohru’s depression a lot better. Especially with the later scene where she breaks down in front of Kyo in the bedroom. A+ crying from Laura Bailey, I really felt it this time. As I said, the 2001 version seemed like it didn’t wanna deep dive too much so I’m glad we get a deeper in look to the complexities of Tohru this time.

It might be a translation ‘nothing’, but I find it interesting that Kyo felt like he jinxed her. Especially linked with his comments to Kagura later about how he feels ‘no one should want to hang around him’. I mean we’ll get into the reasoning for this most likely in the next two episodes but you can probably guess why... Poor kitty.

(Also side note: Do you think that’s why - out of everyone that has been bullied in this anime - Kyo seemed the least affected by school bullies? Is it cos of his experience within the Sohma family and his curse, that he almost expects that everyone he meets would treat him like that? It’s interesting because Hana had the same thought process towards her own bullying but she never fought back... But Kyo did. I might just conclude this thought as it just being in his nature to fight back, but we’ll see...)

Also, 2001 giving us Kyo freaking out in cat form about Tohru’s fever was pretty funny. Man, they really did do an overkill with the transformations back then...

2001 really was not good at showing the gradual progress of Kyo controlling his anger around Tohru as much as the 2019 version. Yes, in the 2019 ep, Kyo was still annoyed that Tohru wouldn’t just relax and concentrate on getting better but my God, Kyo is sooooo shout-y and yell-y in this version! And I don’t wike it lol.

However I shouldn’t shit on the moment too much. I do think 2001 wanted to show us that Kyo saw how receptive Tohru was to Shigure being calmer and nicer and it kind of influenced him to take more of a gentle approach to Tohru later. Kyo being influenced by Shigure is... questionable... but whatever, it’s got good intentions! (I still like the 2019 version better)

Momiji with the oversized work outfit! He’s so adorable I could cry.

- I’m kinda bummed that the 2019 version didn’t include the ‘Kyo stealing leeks from Yuki’s garden’ moment. It’s a hilarious moment (especially with Yuki’s reaction) and it is just PEAK ‘it’s not stealing if you’re taking it from family’ energy that I adoreeee and stand by lol

Really, 2001!Kyo... are you five years old?

‘ 🎵And at most... I’m sleeping all these demons away...’

‘ 🎵But your ghost... the ghost of you it keeps me awake’

Kyo seeing ghosts of Tohru is both unintentionally funny and dramatic in both versions to me, I’m sorry. I’m really just a child.

Where do I start? Kyo being ever so dramatic with the goggles and the face mask... Shigure with the all-knowing troll look. 2001 really gave us some gems and I think we all tend to forget that.

Plus...

I. LOVE. THIS. BROTHER. DYNAMIC. (I know it isn’t accurate don’t ruin the fanfic going on in my head)

- Tohru being depressed that she wasted Yuki’s time and didn’t fulfill her mother’s wishes makes me wish she was more so just concerned about herself and how she’s gonna pass for herself? But it is very much in her character to do so, so I guess I’ll let it slide. And I guess Kyo said what I said in well... his own unique way of giving advice.

- But when it came to the actual soup porridge scene, I lean more towards the 2019 version. There’s so much said in Kyo’s body language and Tohru’s own inner thoughts. She’s really falling in love with him and she doesn’t even know it!!!

THAT PEEK FROM HIS ELBOW?! COME ON!!! STOP IT. MY HEART. these dumb fuckin kids...

I loveee the 2019 porridge moment so much more, but this moment right here just ELEVATED the whole moment. It says so muchhhh without saying much at alllll and ohhhh this poor boyyyy...!!!!! It really took a fluffy moment and just stabbed me in the heart and I guess I respect you for that? Thanks...?

I’m so glad the 2019 version is feeding us in stupid made up songs. *chef’s kiss* haha

- I’m really glad that Kisa calls Hatori ‘uncle’ in 2019 and not ‘grandpa’ like she did in 2001. Cos as someone in their mid-twenties that shit was straight up offensive lol

The Momiji and Kyo moments are always so heartwarming in this version. My faves. <3

- Also I dunno why but I really liked Hatori, The Doctor Who Smokes in the 2001 anime. It didn’t make sense but quite honestly if anyone in this anime chose to smoke to let off some steam, it should be him. (Not an advocate for smoking)

---- Right! No more 2001 comparisons cos the episode that is equivalent to this part of the episode is also riddled spoilers for the next 2019 episode so... just normal review from here. ---

Why is it that Yuki’s insults against Kyo always hurt so much more?! They are both terrible to each other but for some reason, I always feel it more when Yuki verbally backhands Kyo. Maybe it’s the way Eric Vale practically venomously spits out these words or maybe it’s cos Yuki kinda has more privilege than Kyo so it feels like he’s kicking a literal homeless cat.

- Also, my poor boy! Definitely felt myself sympathising a lot more this time around to how weak he was feeling.

Lol I felt that exasperated breath. At least this time, Kyo doesn’t call Tohru’s umbrella ‘a sissy girly pink umbrella’. A minor improvement? (So, I might of watched a bit of the 2001 version of episode 24...)

...Need I say anything? <3

- HEADLINE: Shigure ships Yuki/Tohru and Kyo/Kagura? What is he up to...

- Kyo shouting at Kagura in the middle of the supermarket was a shitty move but Kagura mooshing his head in response was great... what a terrible but very entertaining couple lol

- Kagura’s ‘If I told you, you’d cry...’ is giving me all the heart pain. How many times can I say that I’m not ready...

I’ve seen people in the tag compare this moment to his porridge moment with Tohru and while I agree, it does seem like Kyo just naturally wanted to help Tohru compared to Kyo feeling obligated to hold hands with Kagura. But errrrm.... I just think Kyo is a good kid haha. And while I do think he CLEARLY holds Tohru in a very treasured and locked away place in his heart, he just doesn’t like it when girls cry around him and will do anything to stop it. I also think he does care about Kagura, and that he’s more so annoyed that Kagura doesn’t seem to get that he won’t love her in the way she loves him (and well... her being a tsundere lol). But I could be wrong! I’m a walking manga amnesiac as always...

*HIGH PITCHED SCREAMING*

Talk about FINALLY. They really named the episode that and made us wait until the LAST SECOND OF THE EPISODE TO GIVE US THE WORDS: ‘You look well...’

What a tease.

And we’re not even gonna get into the preview for the next episode and how three words made me tear up minutes before I had to go to a party on Friday night.

Wow. This might be the longest review so far. I don’t doubt that next week’s will be longer lol. The reason why I wanted to do the 2001 comparisons will probably make more sense next week and I will also say my thoughts on the 2001 version of the events with the umbrella and Kagura and Kyo’s date next week before I go into the review.

Jeez, this took two hours to write. WHY DO I DO THIS?!

#fruits basket #furuba #fruits basket 2019 #fruits basket 2001

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mentalcurls · 5 years

Text

1. Sembri una pu***na

So I started the all-Skam Italia rewatch last Sunday and it turns out I have a lot to say about it. Like, four pages on Word of stuff to say. It took me three days to get evrything out and make it readable. So here, for you reading pleasure, my thoughts on ep.1 season 1 “Sembri una pu***ana”. There’s some kind of heavy stuff and I draw some parallels to my personal experience, since I was, unce upon a time, a teenager and a student at the same school all the highschoolers in SkamIT attend, and I’m also beginning to do the Bechdel test on the episodes!

The montage at the beginning is really powerful when you link the images from Giovanni and Eva’s class’s time at the Succursale to Gio’s essay, that Eva’s reading in the background, in particular the first part: LudoBesse is basically telling us how much of a waste Eva thinks her and Laura’s friendship is to Laura now

Something else about Gio’s essay (as someone who attended classico): it’s a YES from me because criticizing liceo classico is peak classico culture, it’s a HELL NO because classico is actually the best school in the world and I sincerely hope that if anyone else but himself said/wrote that kind of stuff about his school Gio would be at their throats

Eva has that “seeing someone outside the school gates and static fills your ears” moment just like Marti when he sees Niccolò for the first time! Hers is of course with Laura and Sara, who are with... Silvia and Fede! I like that they showed us a bit of this friendship that we didn’t really get to see in the og.

Martino and that iconic first “A zozzoni!” ❤️

Marti and Gio are competing for who got the best grades in the History test and I have a lot to say about this: we know Gio has really high grades (we are told he has an average of 9/10 in Latin and he got 8,5 in History) and that thing he does, bragging about it with his friend, the friendly competition between them, the actual talking about his grades without worrying who’s listening to him? That shit wouldn’t have flied for me, a once-upon-a-time student of liceo classico with an average of 8/10 in Latin, 8/10 in Ancient Greek and 9/10 in History and in part it was because I didn’t have the best classmates, but for the most part I couldn’t have done that because I am a girl (and my friends and classmates were 98% female)

girls are socialized to be humble about accomplishments, first and foremost, to avoid bragging AND humblebragging as well, and to always care about other people and their feelings; basically, whenever the topic of marks and grades came up while I was in high school, I had to try my best to avoid disclosing my own; if they were brought up directly, say them as dispassionately as possible and then try to change topic; I had be conscious of the fact I was talking someone who had much worse grades than me most of the time, so I had to keep into mind their experience of finding things I found doable (like translating from Latin) extremely hard, of disliking subjects I enjoyed (and most of the time the professor who taught them too, especially when they’d recently gotten a bad mark) and of being frustrated by their grades. I could never have competed with any of my friends about who got the highest marks (most of the time there was actually a sort of “gallows humor” competition over who got the lowest). I couldn’t show I was happy about my good grades, because I’d get negative comments from my friends (yes, even close friends, people I get on with and love to this day) who would dismiss my accomplishment as obvious, something that came easily to me because I was a nerd (the translation in Italian is “secchiona” and it doesn’t have any of the “cute” connotations pop culture gave its English counterpart) and something I shouldn’t “show off”. On top of that, if something was hard for me, it was whatever and what right did I have to complain when I had such high grades anyways, it wouldn’t be a problem in the long run.

So yeah, Martino and Giovanni, right now I kind of hate you for not having to take on any emotional labour in these kind of situations and society for socializing males and females in different ways when it comes to accomplishments and for accepting different behaviours from boys and girls.

QED Gio and Marti turn to Eva and ask her about her mark, she’s reticent but they get an answer out of her (that is not even the truth) and they mock her for it. Yes it’s all fun and games but Eva’s mark is really bad compared to Giovanni’s and Martino’s (especially her real mark) and grades are important for teens, no matter how much they deny it, if nothing else then because they influence their relationship with their parents

you can see Eva is hurt by their careless mocking, by Gio’s fake attempt at placating with “stuff she’s good at” (among which is re-heating pre-cooked food which is at the same time a way to have her “stay in the kitchen” and not even be able to properly cook) and by the way he and Marti underestimate her and laugh at her in the following exchange, when Marti shushes her and she calls him “asshole” with that annoyed face. It’s silly, “loving” mockery but it affects people anyways and it shows a lack of empathy only guys are allowed. She’s expected to take it with good grace (and this takes additional emotional labour) because it’s just for fun and they’re friends and they don’t mean it, but it’s not fair

“There are no secrets in a couple, but there aren’t between friends either.” THE WAY MARTINO PUTS HIMSELF ON THE SAME LEVEL AS EVA in Giovanni’s life, straight away! This boy. And Gio agrees! That shit must’ve been so frustrating, poor Eva.

This conversation between Gio, Eva and Marti: G: Today we’re going to Elia’s place to study. E: Oh, so that’s what you’re calling it now, studying. M: Oh c’mon, 6 minus, shhh. is the beginning of the reoccurring dynamic between them in the season that will make Eva paranoid and will bring her to confronting Laura and to cheating aka Giovanni keeping a secret, lying to Eva about where he goes and what he does, Martino enabling him by misdirecting or distracting her or Gio doing it himself, then either or both the guys calling her crazy or paranoid for doubting their words. You know what’s that? It’s called gaslighting.

[Gaslighting means manipulating a person by psychological means into questioning his or her own sanity. It’s the same technique that, according to some of his critics, Donald Trump used to get gain traction with voters (see Trump giving “alternative facts” and dubbing the media that fact checked and corrected him “fake news”).]

[I’M NOT SAYING THAT GIOVANNI IS THE SAME AS TRUMP, I DON’T THINK THEY’RE THE SAME, I only want to present an example of how this form of psychological manipulation is an actual thing in the real word and is really effective and dangerous.]

I am aware that Giovanni is just a dumb teenager trying to hide his weed habit from his girlfriend, that Martino is just being a good bro and covering for his best friend, that they’re doing this without any malicious intent towards Eva and that she’s insecure all by herself. Still, gaslighting is not a behaviour our societies should excuse, especially because it’s usually practiced by the usual suspects over women and minorities. I’d never seen it pointed out in the context of Skam Italia so I thought I’d bring it up, especially in light of S2 and of the “unproblematic” label Gio’s been given. He’s not perfect, he does shitty stuff too, then afterwards he simply grows up and becomes better. Let’s not forget about it and celebrate the person he’s become.

Case in point is the whole 1.2 Online clip. This is conversation between Eva and Gio: G: My battery died. E: But you were on-line. G: No, I wasn’t, my phone died a couple of hours ago. E: But I saw you. G: Eva, I don’t know how it happened. There must be something wrong with my phone, I don’t know. Sometimes I see you online and you’re not, too. I mean, everyone knows it happens. We can Google it if you want. E: No, it’s okay. And where were you? G: At Elia’s. E: Till now? G: Yeah. E: That’s weird. I talked to Martino earlier and he said you guys left a while ago. G: Eva, what’s wrong? Martino left earlier and I stayed till now. What, you don’t believe? Don’t you trust me? Are you insane, uh? [G kisses E] Everything’s alright. Little koala? Little koala always works. [G carries E to her room, then they have sex.] Giovanni lies about his phone being dead, then tells Eva that her seeing him online is impossible or a fluke, that everyone knows those kind of flukes happen, then lies again about being at Elia, when she tries to expose him he adjusts and starts questioning why she doesn’t believe him, finally calling her crazy and distracting her with kisses and sex. This is gaslighting.

(I had actual chills as I watched the scene again and typed this.)

Those theatre kids are so awkward, but quoting weird passages from greek/latin/italian poetry by heart is peak liceo classico culture

unsupportive boyfriend Gio shows up again when Eva suggest they go to the Easter party: his first reaction is “What? Why? You don’t even like that”, so savage, but fair Eva reminds him he’s actually a loser who, at 16, plays card to have fun with his friends like a 60 year old

Gio is being an asshole, he only considers going with Eva’s suggestion in exchange for something, then guilts her into accepting his “deal” bringing up Marti’s difficult family situation and her grades, implicitly, by promising to volunteer for the philosophy oral test, plus he’s rude and insensitive af because he brings up her inviting a friends when he knows fully well that when they cheated on Laura she got completely cut off

this will show up again, but let me just start to say it in the first episode: how unfair is it for Eva to be suffering most of the consequences in her life for getting together with her best friend’s boyfriend, when Giovanni faces no consequences that we know of for cheating on his girlfrien? And how unfair it must feel, deep deep down, to Eva

then, when she agrees, he takes back his side of the deal and Eva has to say it’s fine, it’s nothing because he says sorry and that’s socialization kicking in, telling her not to be difficult, not to be needy and not to complain cause that’s annoying and girls guys want to date are not any of those things; honestly, the emotional labour Eva has to go through

that getting ready montage, Eva really goes full on revenge mode like Lady D and she’s fully feeling her oats

the first dress Eva tries on is the same we saw Laura wearing at the party, but Eva’s red while Laura’s blue: I put all my money o it being a dress they bought together and on it being kind of their go-to dress, Eva thought about wearing it to remind Laura of their friendship but in the end decided it would only make things harder

oh, the conversation with Laura at the bar. God, if the situation is this tense can you imagine being in the same class as her and as Gio six hours a day everyday? We’ve talked about how shit it must have felt for Niccolò to be in the same class as Marco Covitti in S2, but Eva’s situation is awful too. I wonder how much of that factors in her bad grades and troubles with school

how more people don’t ship Italian Evanora is beyond me, have you seen this interaction?

on the other hand, I wonder how much Eleonora thought about it later, about how she must have come on too strong, about how maybe Eva thought she was weird or hitting on her and how much that weighed on Eleonora not reaching out first again, cause she makes a face like she regrets her life the minute Eva walks away

it breaks my heart, honestly: Eva has just been told she’s a whore by someone she once considered a friend, but when she finds this person’s new friend, who she doesn’t know, crying in the bathroom she doesn’t bat an eyelash, reassures her and tries her best to help her (so much emotional labour that women “naturally” take on themselves because we’re taught to be empathetic and caretakers even when we’re ourselves in distress)

one question: if Federico Canegallo is as popular as the Villa crew seems to be, how the hell does nobody know him when Eva is looking for “Fede”? Besides, Silvia doesn’t even react to the fact that he’s a friend of Edoardo’s when she sees him in the bathroom!

the interaction between the two Fedes kills me in every version

ok fuck you Silvia for not even saying thanks for trying and looking at Eva like she’s a decerebrate

Bechdel test: the episodes passes the test because of the conversations between Eva and Laura (nice 😑), Eva and Eleonora (though they’re mostly talking shit about other girls, so still not very good) and Eva and Silvia (though we actually don’t know her name yet at this point, we can only guess it from context, so it’s borderline). So this is cute.

This post is part of my complete series of meta about Skam Italia season 1. If you’d like to read more of my thoughts about the other episodes, you can find the mastepost linked in the top bar on my blog under SKAMIT: EVA. Cheers!

#skam italia #skamit s1 #eva brighi #martino rametta #giovanni garau #laura pandakovic #federico canegallo #eleonora sava #silvia mirabella #skamit meta #1x01 sembri una pu***ana #a. writes

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theunderdogwrites · 3 years

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Ten "Suggestions" For A New World

I was raised in the Roman Catholic faith. Went to church every Sunday with my family from the time I was four until the age of 19. I was baptized, received my first communion and attended CCD classes (Confraternity of Christian Doctrine). And just for fun and out of curiosity, I've read the bible (New Testament) three times. [I want to quickly share with you the meaning of the word "confraternity": 'a lay brotherhood devoted to some purpose, especially to religious or charitable service'. Already its clear women are not really welcome.]

Once I was free to make my own choices, I stopped going to church. To be honest with you, I couldn't hear myself think over the constant propaganda being served to me by an elderly ornery priest wearing a $2500 robe and asking me to kneel at a $10,000 marble alter while attempting to guilt me into giving the church money to help feed the poor. I've never been the sharpest tool in the shed, but I knew something wasn't quite right with this religion. A friend of mine introduced me to the term "recovering Catholic" and I've adopted it as my own.

Do I believe in God? What... a terribly complicated question. In short, yes. In length, I believe in something I can't put my finger on and it has a name. I know I talk to this Universe character a great deal, maybe that’s it? Anyway, the God I believe in... that something with a name I can't accurately put my finger on - is about kindness and compassion, respect, acceptance, tolerance and love. And I mean, for real. Not just because it sounds good in your mouth.

Have you ever looked up the meaning of TOLERANCE?

‘allow the existence, occurrence, or practice of (something that one does not necessarily like or agree with) without interference’

The fact I’ve not yet killed anyone, means I am a highly tolerant being. Ego stroke.

You may have your own opinions and beliefs; in fact, I encourage you to form your own opinions and sift through what you do and don't believe. But let other people find their own way. Be who they are to be and if it's a different path than yours... don't tell them they're going to Hell. All that does is stress Satan right the fuck out.

I was taught to pray from an early age. Kneel down beside the bed at night, make the sign of the cross and talk to God. Ask him to bless the people you love, show compassion for those who wronged you and be thankful for everything you've been given. End with the sign of the cross. Although I no longer kneel at the side of my bed or make the sign of the cross, I do still pray. I've never had an issue with prayer. It's a form of communication and communication is king. Even if you believe no one is listening, it truly does help to just have raw dialogue with yourself.

Have I ever used prayer to help me out of a tough spot? Absolutely.

Have I ever prayed for something and promised something else I knew I most likely wouldn't follow through with? Yes. Have I ever prayed then become angry when things didn't go my way? Definitely.

Have I asked for forgiveness, mercy and wisdom? Yes.

I'm not ashamed of any of those admissions. But I'm not going to print them on a t-shirt and strut around either. I don't feel I am any different than anyone else when it comes to prayer. Evidence of this are the religious contestants on Survivor who ask God for assistance in winning a million dollars so they may do good with all that money.

Currently, for me, prayer is an open-ended conversation that takes place in my soul. There's yelling and screaming. Blame. Crying and swearing. The launching of projectiles and ever so often... peace, laughter, approval and cookies. There's chaos and harmony and somehow, I manage to cultivate enough intelligence to string together a bunch of words to make a half decent sentences from time to time.

This brings me to: The Ten Commandments. Take a quick gander at this so you can get your bearings:

https://www.bibleinfo.com/en/topics/ten-commandments-list

In a nutshell, these are "God's standards" which he wants you to live by.

Going to confession was the worst. Especially as a typical 15-year-old girl. "I am not telling you shit" was pretty much my life's motto so to expect me to open up to an old priest and share my sins and secret thoughts so he may shame me with a mini lecture and an act of contrition, was insanity.

Every time I went to confession, I used the same three "sins":

I disobeyed my Mother and Father

I took the Lord`s name in vain

I lied

I figured this to be believable for a girl my age. If you look at the commandments, I wasn't going to covet my neighbor`s wife or his ox and I certainly wasn't going to get myself another God to worship considering I already couldn't figure out the one I'd been given. And murder? I probably didn't even know what that meant. I mean, until the guidance counselor at my school pointed out to me what suicide was, I had no idea it was even possible to do that to yourself. I wasn't stupid, but rather innocent. And isn't it funny that it took a person of "authority" whose intentions were being governed by a higher power, to bring those kinds of ideas into my brain where they once didn't exist? Something to ponder.

Let's be honest, the Ten Commandments... as they stand right now in current society... a little outdated, right? Technology is rapidly changing how we communicate and behave. And it's time to modernize in order to keep up. I'm not proposing we abolish the original document. I'm not trying to offend anyone or stamp out their beliefs. I know the Ten Commandments is a sacred collection of words that many believe is straight from the mouth of God. Attempting to rip up or shit on something with that much power over so many people... is suicide. (Look Ms. Foster! I learned another way one can harm themselves other than dragging a razor over one's wrists! Your job wasn't meaningless after all!)

I'm merely proposing that someone (ME ME ME) take a stab at writing up a new set of standards which people (YOU YOU YOU) should SERIOUSLY consider following if they wish to achieve a pleasant after life. And the only person you must believe in - yourself.

The first thing I want to do is change the word "commandments" to "suggestions". It's less aggressive and more light-hearted, even though you're still expected to comply. No one wants to be told what to do, not really, and by "commanding" them in a preachy way to curb behavior... well, you're just asking for trouble. Imagine the success rate if Moses had come down from the mountain and said:

“Hey... hi everyone, look, God spoke to me and mentioned something about these ten suggestions He'd like us to seriously consider if we want to get into Heaven. He was pretty adamant that we pay attention and do our best to not ignore this list. I think He spent a lot of time coming up with this stuff... so we really do owe it to Him to try and give this all we got. Ok, thanks everyone... back to not raping women and making false idols out of gold".

I just feel that by changing the wording and therefore tone of this document - you're not alienating the more cantankerous, free-spirited or stubborn people of the world with a menu of demands you expect them to blindly obey.

The second thing I want to do is provide a brief explanation for each "suggestion". There is nothing worse than treating people as though they don't deserve further information when you'd like them to do something that wasn't their idea. Communication is comforting and reflects respect. You can't say: "Because I told you so" or "Just do it" and expect to be well received. All this is going to get you are responses such as: "You're not the boss of me" and "Go fuck yourself".

So, without further ado, I give to you:

The Ten "Suggestions" For A New World

Please do not update your Facebook status message more than once a day: This is a sign of vanity, a deadly sin. And it's really annoying to the point where people secretly want to kill you for repeatedly mugging their news feeds with updates in increments of 32 minutes, on the broad details of your existence. No one actually cares here, on planet Self Absorption.

Please do not kill: This is the only original "commandment" included on this new list because it has stood and always will stand the test of time. There are loads of shitty, stupid, selfish & servile individuals in the world and relieving them of the burden of breathing seems like an all-around great idea, but it's actually a terrible idea. Why? Well, for starters... it's not your place to end a human life. It's just not. Life is special. You - not so much. Plus, it causes debilitating pain for a great many people. When you take someone's life away you create a hole inside the people who love them. This hole can never be filled. It will never get smaller. These people will never heal. They might be able to carry on... eat food again one day, maybe buy a new couch, laugh at a joke - but they will never heal. They will walk around, unhealed and with a hole in their heart till their dying day. Don't make holes in other people.

Please resist from being a complete douche bag: (Traditionally the term 'douche bag' is usually gender specific and applies to men, but for this "suggestion" it also applies to women, because women can be douche bags as well. This does not apply to cats. The lives of cats are based upon douche-baggery, but it's cute and therefore exempt) Being a total jerk is in your bloodline. Eve was a jerk to Adam. Adam was a jerk to God. The snake was a jerk to Eve. God was a jerk to the dinosaurs. And the dinosaurs were jerks to everyone. So... this "suggestion" is going to be a difficult one not to fail at from time to time. The idea here isn't to be perfect, because that isn't unachievable. But rather, genuinely compassionate and generous when you see someone who wouldn't benefit from you running your truck into their fence and then driving off like a douche bag coward. And the state of being a douche bag isn't always limited to actions befitting a little scamp, no it can also be in the way you dress (Underwear above the pants line? Come on!) Or how you tell uninterested parties about your drunken antics and the loss of your favorite pair of really expensive shoes. Or tweeting/texting the person next to you while you're in a group setting. Now you can see why pretty much everyone will be unsuccessful at this "suggestion". We're douche bags.

If you open a bottle of wine - please finish it: This really shouldn't require much explanation. Drinking two-day old wine is the equivalent of sucking on week old doughnuts. Even hobos understand this concept. If you save your wine, you're stealing food out of the mouth of a grape stomping child. Is that what you want? No. Drink your damn wine already.

Please flush the toilet after you poop / wipe the seat off if you urinate on it: No list of "suggestions" would be complete without a mentioning of bathroom etiquette because so many people are unable to recognize and execute proper manners in this area. I reckon 74% of the population does not want to see your excrements. And the other 26% need to seek out some counseling. Immediately. Leaving your shit in the toilet for others to view does not make you regal, it makes you a filthy barnyard animal. And it's not funny or clever. Neither is urine on the seat. And this applies to both men and women. Take ten seconds, grab some toilet paper and WIPE THE SEAT OFF. Your pee is not liquid gold. No one wants to bottle it to sell on eBay or Etsy.

Please do not use social media to draw attention to your drama: This is a tough one, I know. We all suffer from drama and when we feel severely slighted by the Universe, a person or even a business... we just want to share our pain in hopes of others being able to relate to us and provide some words of comfort. And what better way to reach your 472 "friends" than screaming out on Twitter or rapidly posting about your discomfort on Facebook. But the problem is... you're not actually connecting to anyone. Not really. You can't see their expressions. You can't hear the tone in their voice. And you definitely cannot count on their sincerity if they don't contact you privately and not in an open forum for all to witness. And, it's awkward. Once people see your drama, they can't un-see it. Even if you delete it, you don't get to delete it from their minds. And as a sub-section to this "suggestion" - also try to avoid saying stuff on social media that you wouldn't say to a person's face. This is just a fancier version of talking behind someone's back while doing it in front of their face without them actually realizing that it's being done.

Please do not text and drive: If you own a car you probably spend a decent amount of time in that car, driving. Probably so much time that it feels automatic, like blinking. And because it's automatic you will rarely think about what you're actually doing - operating a 4000-pound killing machine. What is more important than taking your eyes off the road to check in on your game of choice? Or answering that text about where you're going on your vacation? Your life. The lives of others. (please see "suggestion" number two) Chances are you're already deeply distracted by your real life, there is no reason to add to that list fumbling around with a cellphone so you can tell someone what you thought about last night's episode of Spring Baking Championship (is that just me?).

Please leave your ego at the door: People love confidence; they hate arrogance. Arrogance is phony. Intimidation and strutting around like an erect penis OR vagina won’t hide the truth - that you’re afraid and maybe a little underwhelming in your own mind. There is nothing wrong with having flaws... accepting those flaws... flaunting those flaws. It builds character. But if you must insist on being an arrogant tool, then you must also accept that you're not only unhealthy to yourself, you're toxic to others.

Please do not give others false hope: If someone has posted an ad on Kijiji or Craigslist - don't express interest and give them a date and time of when you're going to show up to purchase the item if you have no intention of making an appearance. Forget about it being rude and full of atrocious manners; it's downright cruel to let someone believe they've just sold their dining room table when in fact - they haven't. (Yes, I’ve been scarred).

Please remember, you're not always right: Unless you're me. And even then, you’d only be operating at a success rate of about 32%.... so, just be yourself.

#the ten commandments #universe #social media #compassion

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bazypitchandsimonsnow · 6 years

Text

Family (Children Part 3)

Rating: T

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 4858

Summary: The big day arrives a bit sooner than expected.

Read on AO3

AN: So this prompt is what inspired this whole "having a baby" idea. You can guess what happens :)

Disclaimer: I have never been pregnant, dealt with a surrogate, or been to Guy's Hospital. Sorry for any inaccuracies.

Baz

Work is dreadfully boring. It has been for the last few weeks. I’m mindlessly filing away client reports. It’s weirdly meditative in it’s repetitiveness. It keeps my mind off worrying. Simon said I should keep going to work. Otherwise I’d just spend hours fussing over Helen with him, and she would not appreciate the extra worrying father to be hovering over her. So I’m sitting here, rearranging documents, being bored into weird zen coma. I barely register my phone ringing, picking up the receiver calmly like I always do.

“Basilton Snow-Pitch.”

“BAZ!” Simon’s voice is so loud I have to pull the phone away from my hyper sensitive ear, wincing painfully.

“Aleister Crowley, Snow, are you trying to make me deaf?”

“Sorry sorry, it’s just- you gotta- you should really get up and go- cause cause-”

“Simon, please slow down! Take a deep breath, then talk, okay, love?”

“Okay okay.” He takes an audible slow inhale and exhale. “Baz, you have to make your way to Guy’s Hospital. Because Helen is going into labour and we’re about to drive there right now.”

“What?!” I jump so suddenly my office phone rattles on my desk. My heart is beating so fast I fear it may stop. “But Helen isn’t due for another week!”

“Tell that to your baby, Basilton!” Helen shouts from somewhere in the background.

“What she says,” Simon puts in, trying not to laugh. “Just get there quickly. We’ll meet you there.”

“Yes yes, good. See you soon.”

I put down the phone. For just a moment, I freeze. The whole world sort of stops for a second. It’s really happening. I’m about to have a baby. I’m about to be a Dad. I think I’m going to be sick. Whether it’s from nerves or happiness, I’m not sure. Doesn’t matter, I need to go!

I gather up all my stuff quickly and shove it into my work bag. Running down the hall, I luckily spot my supervisor.

“Martin!” I shout. He turns around, smiling politely.

“Hey Basil. What’s up?”

“I-I have to go. My surrogate has gone into labour early, and I have to get to the hospital. Can my parental leave start, well, now?”

His eyes go wide. “Oh my god! Yes, yes of course. Please go. Congratulations, mate!”

“Thank you,” I sigh, and dash off out of the office. I hope I don’t get sick in my car.

I have prided myself on staying calm in stressful situations. When Snow would freak out and just attack frantically or simply go off, I would use logic and precise spells. But it seems my serene personality has decided to take a vacation today. Hooray.

I sprint into the hospital lobby and practically crash against the front desk. The man sitting there jolts up to look at me.

“Hello,” I pant out (Merlin, I’m out of breath). “Where is the maternity wing?”

“..why?” He says nervously, probably scared by a weird disheveled man asking where the babies are. (Understandable.)

“M-My husband is here. We’re having a baby. He’s probably already arrived with our surrogate. Should be under Snow. Or Pitch. Or Snow-Pitch, I don’t know. He's not consistent with which name he picks.”

“Uh, let me check.” His fingers rattle across his keyboard. “Are you Basilton?”

“Yes! Yes, that’s me.”

“Alright. Your family is in Room 224”

“Thank you, good sir.”

Once again, I sprint down the clinical hospital, trying to block out all the smells. Hospitals always smell disgusting. I’m so distracted by scents of blood and antiseptic that I nearly miss the room. But a certain voice tips me off.

“Breathe, Helen, breathe.”

“That’s what I’m bloody well doing!”

I burst through. Snow’s head whips up, a relieved smile spreading across his face. Helen is laying on the hospital bed, breathing deeply and gripping my husband’s hand like her life depends on it.

“Hello,” I say as calmly as possible. “What did I miss?”

“Your baby is very eager to see the world,” Helen groans.

“Apparently so. They’re over eager like their father. Here, give Snow’s hand a break and take mine.”

I stride forward and hold my hand out to her. Helen releases her death drip on Simon’s and he sighs heavily, shaking it out. She clutches mine instead. I hiss slightly. Damn, she’s strong. But she’s not vampire strong.

“Wow,” Helen gasps. “For a desk jockey you’re very tough.”

Snow and I share a knowing look across the bed. His eyebrow nearly reaches his hairline, matching his smug smile. “Yeah,” I say. “Working out pays off.

Simon scoffs and rolls his eyes. I glare, but can’t help but smirk.

“You’ve called everyone, right love?” I ask

He nods eagerly. “Yup! Your family, all the Bunces, even Agatha. Oh, she says she wants many pictures of our, I quote, ‘demon spawn.’”

“How eloquent,” I deadpan.

“Hey, if any kid is going to be a demon spawn, it will probably be our’s.”

Of course this is when the doctor decides to enter. She’s a lovely young woman with dark curly hair and glasses. Crowley, she looks a lot like Bunce. That’s a bit freaky.

“Hello!” she greets cheerily (well, she’s more perky than Bunce). “I’m Dr. Gerald. Now, who are the lucky parents today?”

“Uh,” Simon say. “Well, I’m the father.”

I raise my free hand. “I’m also the father.”

“And I’m the incubator,” Helen chimes in.

Dr. Gerald nods slowly. “Okay then. Sounds good. You’re not the first ‘non-traditional’ family I’ve helped. Now, let’s check on how your baby is doing.”

She sits down on the stool and reaches under the medical sheet covering Helen’s lower half. Her face scrunches up in concentration, nodding with little “hm” noises. My worry just increases with every “hm”, twisting and pooling in my stomach.

“Well?!” I snap. Helen lightly smacks my shoulder, glaring harshly.

Dr. Gerald smiles. “Everything seems good. Your baby is well on its way. I think we should expect a quick delivery.”

“Thank god,” Helen sighs.

I squeeze her hand once. “Agreed.”

The doctor sheds her blue plastic gloves still grinning at us. “I’ll be back in little bit to check on you again. In the meantime, try to relax.”

We watch her walk out the door. Helen glares viciously. “Easy for her to say. She doesn’t have a watermelon trying to force its way out of her vagina.”

“Yeah, sorry about that, Helen.” Simon says, genuinely apologetic.

“Not your fault, Si. I signed up for this. Literally.”

“Want me to get you anything?”

“Ice chips would be lovely.”

“On it!” Snow bounces up, giving me a peck on the cheek before he dashes off.

I pull up a chair while not letting go of her hand. She’s breathing deeply, clutching and loosening her grip on my hand with every inhale and exhale.

“How are you doing, Helen?” I ask quietly.

“Considering everything? Pretty well. How about you?”

“I’m fine.”

“Baz.” She gives me a knowing look through her sweat soaked auburn bangs. “You don’t need to play tough for me.”

I straighten up instinctively. I still don’t like when people see through my facade. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You’re about to have a baby. An actual, honest to god, human baby. You’re freaked out, and so is Simon. Which is entirely reasonable. So you don’t need to pretend to be calm in front of me. I understand if you’re not.”

I try to keep my composure. But I’ve been keeping it for months, trying to be the confident one for everyone, especially Simon. But he’s not here right now. So I let out a long sigh, shoulders slumping.

“I’m certainly freaking out,” I say quietly. “All of this has been so far away. But now, it’s actually happening. And...I’m not sure I’m ready.”

“Well, as my sister with four kids says, ‘no one has a script for this shit. Having a kid is life’s ultimate improv’.” Script? Improv? I give her a curious look. She shrugs. “She’s an actress. Everything is a theatre metaphor. But she’s right. No one is ever fully ready to have a kid. Anyone who says otherwise is a fucking liar.”

I groan, leaning my head on the hospital bed. “I just don’t like being unprepared. I usually have a plan for everything. But I’ve read every book and article I can, and I still don’t feel ready. And...and I need to be the ready one, for Snow.”

Helen sighs heavily. I look up at her, and she looks back annoyed. “What?” I snap.

“Baz, you don’t need to be the calm one for Simon.”

“Of course I do! He’s terrified enough, considering his childhood and shitty...foster father. I can’t add to his stress.”

“Y’know, if you ask me, I think Simon would prefer if you were just as freaked out as he is. Then you wouldn’t hide, and he wouldn’t feel weird for being freaked.”

I furrow my brow. What is she talking about? I open my mouth to ask, but suddenly the door bursts open. Snow strides in with a bucket of ice chips.

“Found some! You wouldn’t believe this place. It’s a goddamn maze!”

Helen grins. “Wonderful. Hand them over, Si.”

He puts the bucket in front of her, and Helen scoops out a few to chew on. Snow sits on the other side. They start chatting about random crap while I roll around Helen’s words in my head. I thought I had to be strong for Simon, but now I’m questioning if that’s the right thing to do. Does he need me to be scared too? That doesn’t make sense. At least, not to me.

Helen groans, clutching her stomach and crushing my hand. Simon takes her other one.

“Shit,” she huffs. “I hope that annoying doctor is back here soon.”

“I actually agree with you,” I chuckle.

“It’s okay we’re here for you, Helen,” Simon says. “Thank you so much.”

“Yeah yeah, you’re welcome, you big softie,” she replies. “Buy me a drink after all this. That will be a true thank you.”

“We’ll buy you an entire goddamn bar, I promise.”

“I’m going to hold you to that, Sim- Shit!” She grips us again, teeth clenched and muscles tensing with another contraction. We let her crush our hands. It’s the least we can do for her. Part of me hopes this is over soon, for Helen and for us. But a smaller part of me hopes time will stop, just wait a little longer, until I’m ready. Though now, I’m not sure I ever will be.

“Should I push yet?” Helen pants. “I feel like I should push.”

“Not just yet,” Dr. Gerald says. “You’re almost there though.”

“Thank the lord.”

“Agreed,” Simon says, subtly shaking out his hand from Helen’s grip. I don’t blame him. I’ll be surprised if I’ll be able to do anything with mine ever again.

I read that labour takes awhile, but this seems to be speeding along. Only two hours and a half hours after we arrived and the doctor says our baby is almost here. My heart is beating so hard it threatens to break my ribs. I’ve been trying to stay calm throughout all of this. But that’s slowly been ebbed away and replaced with utter dread. There’s so much that could go wrong, so much we could do wrong.

I look up at Simon, still standing on the other side of Helen. He’s chewing on his lips to the point it’s probably almost bleeding. I see him picking at his nails on his other hand. He hasn’t done that since uni. I reach behind Helen’s head, palm up in offering. Simon notices, and grabs it firmly. His hot skin fits perfectly my tepid body temperature, like always. We look at each other. His eyes are wide and open and more than a bit scared, silently saying two words. I’m scared.

I nod and mouth, me too .

He sighs and nods back, giving my hand one firm squeeze.

“Okay,” Dr. Gerald says, “it’s time. Helen, on three, I want you to push. Okay?”

“Okay, okay,” she sighs shakily. “Hold on tight, boys.”

“One, two, three, push!”

Helen pushes with all her might, gripping our hands like a vice. My lungs and heart feel tight. My stomach feels like it’s about to drop out on the floor. But for once, I don’t try to hide it from my face. I’m scared, for many reasons, and that’s okay. I’m not above fear, and I’m allowed to show it.

A wail rips through the air.

“It’s a girl! Congratulations, dads!” The doctor announces. She holds up the screaming baby. And my heart officially stops beating.

She’s tiny and crying, as she should be. Her skin is tan, a shade or two darker than Snow’s, and covered in freckles. Little black hairs poke up from the top of her head. I let out a happy, breathy chuckle. My fear doesn’t go away, but joy overwhelms it. This is my kid. I have a daughter. And Crowley, she’s fucking perfect.

“Which one of you wants to cut the cord?” The masked nurse asks.

Snow and I look at each other. He seems just as happy and bewildered as me. My hands are shaking, far too much to do that right now. Snow’s eyes flick down where our’s are joined. He nods knowingly.

“I’ll do it,” he says.

Crowley, I love him. While he does that, I lean down to Helen, who’s breathing heavily and still clutching my hand tightly. “You did so well,” I whisper. “Thank you.”

Helen smiles sleepily. “You’re very welcome. Still scared?”

“Terrified. But far more happy.”

“Good. That’s how it should be.”

“I know.”

Soon, Simon taps my shoulder. “Hey,” he says quietly. I turn around. He stands there, smiling widely, the little bundle in his arms. “Take a look at her.”

Cautiously, I straighten up. She’s still making adorable little cries, though not the shrieks from a few minutes earlier. She stretches towards the sky with her tiny chubby hand. Slowly, I reach out my index finger, and she wraps her own fingers around it. Her grip is strong and warm and so alive . Almost immediately, she stops crying. She’s amazing. And she’s mine.

“Holy shit,” I chuckle. “We have a daughter.”

“Yeah,” Simon sighs. “Which means we need to work on our language.”

I lightly knock his shoulder. “Oh shut up.”

“Wanna hold her?”

“Of course.”

Simon carefully passes her over to me. She fits perfectly into my arms. I lightly cup her little cheek. She yawns and leans into it. Simon giggles.

“She likes you,” he teases.

“I bloody well hope so. She’s going to have to put up with me for a long time.”

“Very true.” He strokes her head softly. “Baz, are you scared? I-It’s really not just me?”

I turn to him. He’s still looking at the baby, but I see the tension in his face, the way all his beautiful features are pulled together. I put my hand over his, stilling it on her soft head. He finally looks at me. I smile.

“No, it’s not just you. I’m terrified. But I’m also very, very happy.”

He sighs, and smiles warmly back at me. “Me too.”

“Then we’ll be terrified and happy together.”

“Damn right.”

“Language,” Helen mumbles sleepily. Simon and I both laugh.

Simon discreetly wipes a few tears from his cheek and snuffles unceremoniously. “Now, I should go inform our horde of relatives. You okay if they come in, Helen?”

“Yeah sure. Bring on the horde.”

“Alright,” Simon chuckles. “Be right back.”

I kiss his cheek. “Thank you, love.”

Simon practically skips out the door. I sigh, and sit the chair, my baby still close to my chest. Crowley, my baby. I have a living breathing infant who I’m responsible for. And I already love her more than anything.

“See?” Helen says. “Told you it was better to tell him.”

“Yeah yeah, you were right.”

“Penelope’s got a point. You two really do have trouble communicating.”

“Ha, you think this is bad? You should’ve seen us when we were roommates at school. There were many reason it took us 7 and a half years to confess our feelings. Lack of communication was certainly one of them.”

“Damn. Were you a great love story filled with toils and trials and tragic miscommunications?”

I smirk, flicking my eyes over to her. “Something like that.”

Suddenly, the door bursts open, and the horde pours in. The Bunces and my family, including all my little siblings, rush inside. Penelope is at the front (of course she is), smiling so hard her face hurts.

“Let me see!” She shrieks.

“Shhh!” I hiss. “Helen’s tired and the baby is tentatively sleeping.”

“Sorry sorry. Just let me see her, please?”

I shift the baby slightly, facing her out more. Bunce gasps quietly.

“She’s so cute,” she whispers. “Got Simon’s freckles, huh?”

“Yes, certainly. Hopefully she’s inherited a better sense of humour though.”

“Hey!” Simon snaps from beside me.

I press my lips to his cheek “Love you, darling.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, love you too. Now go talk to your dad.”

With some very short mental preparation, I stand up and stride over to my father, who’s standing with my step-mother and siblings. He looks stern, wearing a crisp black suit with his hair slicked back, but that’s usual. For once, I do wonder what he’s thinking.

“Father,” I say.

“Basil,” he replies, voice flat.

I shift my bundled baby towards him. “This is your first grandchild.”

“Yes, I can see that.”

“Would you like to hold her?”

His bored mask breaks a little. In a very rare instance, he looks nervous. Our relationship has certainly improved over the years but it’s far from perfect. We still tend to tiptoe around each other a lot, afraid we’ll do the wrong thing.

I hold the baby out further. “It’s alright. You’ve had five children, I don’t think you’ll drop her or something.”

He scoffs out a small laugh. “Alright, let’s see her.”

I pass my daughter over to him. He holds her carefully. I know that my father is precise and cautious, but that’s usually in regards to schemes or magic. But now I see it applied to my child, and it’s much less menacing. My siblings peer over, smiling and giggling over the baby.

Daphne walks up next to me, placing a hand on my arm. “Congratulations, Basilton.”

“Thank you, Daphne.”

Suddenly, Mordelia crashes into me. Even as an official adult, she’s still boisterous as anything. And after years in America, she talks like them, unfortunately. “Yeah, congrats, broseph. Try to be nice to her, okay?”

I elbow her side. “Fu- Screw off, Mordelia. I’m plenty nice.”

“Liar.” She peers over at the baby, tickling her little cheek. “Does this little munchkin have a name yet?”

I turn my head to look at Simon, who’s talking with Bunce quietly near a snoring Helen. I raise an eyebrow, silently asking the question. We picked names for a boy or a girl a while ago, but kept them both secret, despite Bunce and others pestering us. Simon nods with a smile. I turn back to my father.

“Her name’s Natasha,” I say loud enough for all to hear. “Natasha Penelope Snow-Pitch.”

Everyone goes dead silent. Father inhales sharply, probably in shock and happiness. Micah, standing with Gil a bit farther away, goes slack jawed. Gil laughs loudly.

“That’s Mamá’s name!” He shouts.

I turn around. Bunce is frozen where she stands, brown eyes as big as saucer plates behind her glasses. When she speaks, her voice is nervously cracking.

“S-Seriously?”

“Yeah, Pen, seriously,” Simon says, throwing an arm around her shoulders. “You’re my best friend. I’d probably be dead by now if it wasn’t for you. So when Baz suggested I pick a middle name for a girl, it was sort of a no-brainer.”

Bunce opens her mouth to speak, but I think for once in her life, she doesn’t have anything to say. Instead she just hugs him fiercely, burying her face in his shirt. Simon chuckles and hugs her back. It’s the second most adorable thing I’ve seen today (my baby takes first place, of course.) When she pulls back, there are tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Areseholes,” she sputters. “This was all some ploy to make me blubber in front of everyone, right? You bastards.”

Simon laughs with his head thrown back and everyone joins in, including Bunce herself. Snow presses her to him in a side hug. “Seriously, though. It’s a big honour. Thank you,” she looks at me, “both of you.”

I nod once. “You’re most welcome, Bunce.”

“Welcome, Penny.”

A hand claps over my shoulder, arm snaking around them. I turn to my father. He’s smiling, more genuinely than I’ve ever seen him do so in my entire life.

“Your mother would be very honoured as well, Baz. And incredibly happy for you,” he says with actual real affection.

My heart stutters. For years, I’ve been scared of what my mother would think of me. Her gay, vampire son. But that sentiment, from my father of all people, makes me feel a whole lot better. My lips press together, trying to will back tears. I’ve been dangerously close to crying for awhile now and this isn’t helping. I feel a few tears leak out, but quickly wipe them away. I have a reputation to maintain, dammit.

“Thank you, father,” I reply, voice cracking slightly.

He nods once. I feel a tug on my trouser leg and look down to see Gil, sucking in his thumb. “I see baby, uncle Baz?”

“Of course, Gil. C’mere.”

I lift him up in my arms. He peers over at Natasha in my father’s arms, eyebrows pulling in and mouth turning into a frown.

“She’s so...” he says. “Squishy.”

All the adults chuckle. “Yes, she’s very squishy looking.”

“Papá, was I squishy?”

“Yes, mijo,” Micah says, ruffling his hair. “You were just as squishy.”

He sticks his tongue out. “Gross!”

Everyone laughs again. Gil stays on my hip for a bit, zooming his toy car up and down my shoulder, while we all chat. Natasha gets passed to other people, but I always keep an eye on her. Daphne coos over her happily with Mordelia and the twins. Even my usually Grimm-family-level-solemn little brother smiles. Eventually she makes her way into Penelope’s arms. She, Snow, and a newly awake Helen look over her, giggling at her every little movement. I sigh under my breath. Part of me can’t believe this is happening to me. All my family is here, including my child. My own living, breathing, perfect child. Aleister Crowley, I’m living a charmed life.

After about a few hours, we’re all quite tired, Helen especially, who’s been falling in and out of sleep. The nurse says, barring any complications, she can go home tonight. (She’s going to stay with her sister, who she wants to take care of her post-pregnancy.) We shuffle everyone out so she can get some rest. Daphne gives me one last cheek kiss, Father and Micah shake my hand, Mordelia says goodbye with a fist bump, Gil hugs my leg, and Penelope reluctantly gives me back my own baby.

“Am I going to have to worry about you kidnapping her?” I ask with a playful smirk.

“Hey, you just might,” she replies with a nudge. “She’s absolutely precious. If you ever need a babysitter, I’d be happy to help.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

“Of course.” She gives me one more hug, careful not to crush Natasha between us. “Congrats again, Baz. I’m really happy for you two.”

“Thank you, Penelope.”

She pulls back, patting my arms once. “Try to get some sleep tonight. You’re not going to get a lot for awhile.”

“Wonderful...”

“Welcome to parenthood, Basil. Have fun!”

She walks off with final swish in her step. I roll my eyes. Of course, smug as usual. Should I expect anything else at this point? I go back in and pull up my chair next to Snow. He’s lounging with his eyes shut, a sleepy smile playing on his face. I lean my head on his soft shoulder.

“Hey,” I whisper.

“Hey,” he replies. “How’s she doing?”

“Still sleeping, thank Merlin. Hopefully she’s not a restless baby.”

“Knowing our luck? She’ll be up all hours of the night.”

I let out a scoffing chuckle. “Very true. She is cute though.”

Simon hums, playing with her little black hairs. “Incredibly so.” He sighs happily. “She’s perfect.”

“M-hm.” My mouth twists slightly. “I hope I don’t mess her up.”

“Hey, remember what you told me? Back when we started this craziness?” He puts his strong arm around me, pulling me closer. “‘We’ll both fuck up. No parent is perfect. But we’ll try our best. And I know your best will be fucking amazing.’”

I chuckle. “Yes yes, I remember, I said it.”

“Well, I know you’re best will be fucking amazing too.”

I lean into him more, holding Natasha between us. She breathes very quietly but I can hear her (yay vampire senses). Every inhale and exhale makes me happy and relieved, because it reassures me that she’s alive and well. “Thank you, love.”

He carefully takes Natasha from me. “You look tired. Sleep for a bit. I’ll take care of Natty for now.”

“We’re not calling her that,” I mumble before turning over in my chair. Simon chuckles. Quickly, I’m whisked away into into welcome sleep.

Even more hours later, after tests and talking to doctors and getting our stuff together, we’re allowed to take Natasha home. Helen still dozes on and off in our car. She says she wants to sleep for a thousand years. As we let her off at her sister’s house, we promise to call and visit her in a few days. She tiredly agrees, and we thank her for the millionth time before shutting the door gently behind her.

When we arrive at our own home, it’s very dark. Natasha hasn’t woken up, thank Merlin and Morgana. I drop all our heavy baby bags with a sigh.

“Home sweet home,” I say happily.

“Wonderful,” Simon sighs. “I need real sleep. In pyjamas. In our bed.”

“Me too.” I take his hand in mine and lead us to our room. In there, Snow lays Natasha in her little green bassinet that we had ready. She stretches and yawns, smacking her tiny lips. I spend an inordinate time just staring her. Even though that’s what I’ve been doing all day. Maybe I’m still absorbing it all. Will I ever get used to this? Having a child in my house, in my life? I think so. But right now, I can’t help but stare at her.

“Baz,” Simon whispers. “C’mon, you’re tired. You can look at her tomorrow.”

I lopsidedly, half my mouth pulling up. “Yeah, I guess I can.”

We get changed as quickly and quietly as possible. (Just because Natasha hasn’t woken up yet doesn’t mean she won’t very soon.) Silently, we slip under the covers. I pull Simon against me, my body curled around his. He holds my hand tightly over his heart. Our fingers slip together easily like they always do.

Simon sighs. “Today has been...”

“A day ,” I finish.

He chuckles, back rattling against my chest. “That’s one way to put it.”

“I’m excited though.”

“Me too.” He turns in my arms to face me. His beautiful face is half lit up in moonlight, accentuating his freckles and making his bronze hair glow. He traces a finger down my cheekbone, then cups my face softly. He smiles, blue eyes almost sparkling. “We can do this. We’ve faced a lot worse. So we can certainly do this.”

I put my hand hand over his, nodding slowly. “Yes, we can. Together.”

“Together.”

He shuffles forward, pressing his face into my shoulder. I rub slow circles into his back and run my fingers through his hair.

“I love you,” I whisper against his scalp.

“I love you too,” he replies, voice muffled by my shirt.

I let my eyes slide shut. The exhausting excitement of the day makes my bones and muscles soft. Sleep is a welcome guest in my body. My husband is snoring softly into my skin, my daughter is right behind me. Everything is okay. Better than that, everything is great. I can sleep.

Then Natasha starts crying.

She lets out a loud piercing wail that tears through my sleepy calm. Simon groans and starts disentangling himself from me.

“No no,” I mutter. “I’ll get her.”

He makes tired sound of gratitude and rolls onto his other side. I swing my legs off the mattress, hanging my head for a second to get my composure, then scoop up my screaming child. I pat her back lightly, bouncing her up and down the hall.

“There there, little puff,” I say softly. “It’s alright, I’m here. Everything’s alright. Don’t worry, love, I’m not going anywhere.”

AN: Baby's here! And in my mind, of course her name would be Natasha, and with the middle name Penelope. I've used this name in my other fics too because I feel it works really well. Penny would certainly blubber :) Also the final situation is based on exactly what happened to my parents the day they brought me home. I was a loud baby. Even as an infant I liked to scream all the time. Now I scream about fandom stuff instead of food (still sometimes about food, tbh.) Tomorrow: snowy day!

#carry on countdown #coc 2017 #carry on #snowbaz #simon snow #baz pitch #penelope bunce #micah #malcolm grimm #daphne grimm #mordelia grimm #fluff #children #mysnowbazfic

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writtenwordsoffic · 7 years

Text

Quiet Eyes - Part 2 -Jughead x Reader

Masterlist

Part 1

@idle-lanes @sgarrett49 @murderyoursoul @moonlight53

Word Count: 2498

Warnings: mentions of rape and flashbacks. Do not read if easily triggered.

On a random note - I’m really starting to hate holidays like this so I’m falling into my writing today. I will probably have the other request in my box up tonight. Thanks for reading guys.

Your body jolted up as you heard your alarm. The thoughts of your nightmare, memories really, were still fresh in your head. You felt a cold sweat on your neck down to your back. It just wasn’t going away no matter how much you tried to forget.

You looked at your phone seeing a Monday once again greeting you. You then remembered the deal with Jughead and groaned at the thought of sharing a lunch with people that didn’t know you.

You walked through the halls a bit oblivious. You were paying attention as last night’s dreams were overplaying in your head - again, memories really. You were at your locker with your thoughts still somewhere else until a voice startled you.

Jughead’s POV

She wasn’t even looking up, her face seemed somewhat distraught and part of me was wondering if I had forced her into a week long lunch she didn’t even want. “Hey”.

I was at her locker but her whole body jumped at the sound of my voice. She looked to me and seemed somewhat relieved, annoyed but relieved. “I didn’t mean to startle you”.

She gave a quick smile, “my head was somewhere else, it’s fine”. She shrugged off my apology and closed her locker after getting some books out.

“How was your weekend?”, I was trying to make conversation even though I could tell she was troubled, but a promise is a promise.

“Boring, nothing out of the norm”, her eyes didn’t make contact with me as I could tell her thoughts were still somewhere else. Then the first bell rang.

“Well…see you at lunch then?”, I turned walking backward slowly.

Her eyes seemed to sink a little but she tried giving a convincing smile to mask it, “uh yeah, see you then”.

Her pupils were drawn up to someone behind me and she shifted her focus and she hurried to a classroom while not letting me say goodbye. I turned around and saw Chuck heading my way. I knew I should be angry at him even if I didn’t know the reason why yet. He did something to Y/N and it was eating away at her. I couldn’t ask her now, but it didn’t mean I couldn’t find out on my own.

I passed through the cafeteria, tray in hand, scanning for her. She was leaning against the doorway that met the outside as she looked once again distraught from her thoughts. “Ready?”, I met her eyes with mine.

“I’m here aren’t I?”, her voice had a rasp to it as if she was nervous.

“Look if I’m forcing this on you too much…”, I felt guilty for making her like this.

She gave a sigh while looking down to her feet, “it’s fine Jughead. I agreed to it. I’m just having a shitty day is all”, she looked up and could tell I was saddened by her words. She plastered on a fake smile trying to reassure me now, “come on. I have to formally meet your friends”. She turned from me and made her way outside, I instantly followed.

As we drew closer to the table, she let me walk ahead of her. “Hey guys, Y/N is sitting with us today”, I gave a glance to them all and most of them welcomed her with a smile. Archie’s face had adorned a smirk towards me. I gently rolled my eyes.

“So why the change of pace Y/N?”, Kevin spoke up and I almost gave a glare.

“Uh…Jughead offered”, Y/N glanced to Kevin before looking down at her food.

“Haven’t we met before?”, Veronica spoke up.

“No. We don’t have any classes together…”, Y/N wasn’t up for the grilling and I didn’t really appreciate everyone asking her questions.

Veronica took a sip of her drink while keeping her eyes on Y/N as if she was remembering when they had seen each other besides school.

Archie chimed in, “so, everyone going to the Reggie’s party Friday?”, he tried to get the heat off of Y/N.

Y/N practically choked on her drink at Archie’s question.

He looked at her with a somewhat furrowed brow. “Not your thing?”, at least he was making gentle conversation.

She chuckled a little, a genuine one that I could smile to. “No, it’s really not. Plus I’m pretty sure Reggie wouldn’t actually invite me”, she almost gave a groan at the thought of Reggie. Honestly, I did too.

“Good. Maybe you can help me not get dragged into all of this”, I ushered my hands over the table as really the last thing I wanted to do was be around a bunch of drunk teenagers. Especially if it included Reggie Mantle and the rest of his friends.

“I will happily get you out of that…”, she cheered with her drink to me.

“Oh come on! It will be fun!”, Veronica chimed in while glancing at Archie giving a smile.

“Yeah Y/N, you should go with us”, Kevin was attempting something here.

“It would be more fun with the two of you”, Betty gave a smile to Y/N while giving a similar smirk that Archie had earlier towards me. I once again rolled my eyes.

“You could not drag me to that thing…”. I looked to Y/N and she had her first authentic smile I had seen on her all day.

Veronica rolled her eyes, “fine fine, but we are going to get to know Y/N here at some point then Jughead…”.

A few minutes passed as Veronica was making light conversation with the whole table until the bell rang.

Archie spoke up once again to Y/N who couldn’t seem to all but lose her glance from the table every once in a while. “You should sit with us tomorrow”, Archie’s eyes once again met mine with a gesture behind them.

“Um…sure”, she has already agreed to a week itself so I didn’t imagine her answer being any different.

Veronica gave a smile, “I swear we’ve met outside of school before…ack well, my memory isn’t that great. I’m glad we can get to know you better though”, her words seemed genuine as she grasped Archie’s hand while leaving the table. I looked over and Y/N’s face seemed to fall a bit but she grabbed her stuff nonetheless.

“See you in Chemistry!”, Betty gave a slight wave to Y/N while getting up from the table with Kevin. Y/N gave a soft smile to her but her thoughts still seemed elsewhere. I got up and she followed in suit while her glance was at her feet.

“Was it that terrible?”, my words seemed to surprise her.

Y/N POV

You hadn’t realized he was noticing your actions so much. “Huh?”, your eyes went towards Betty walking away with Kevin until they moved towards Jughead. “Oh no. They all seem really nice”, which was the truth.

“Are you o…”, Jughead’s words stopped as he realized what he was asking. He gave a sigh. “Sorry”.

“It’s fine. My thoughts were just elsewhere”. In fact they were on Veronica and hoping she wouldn’t remember where and when she met you.

“Okay. To English then?”, Jughead almost bowed as he let you walk ahead of him. You gave a small laugh to his actions that were practically instinctive. You had gotten to the hallway until Jughead asked you to wait for him outside of the restroom. Friends may not be so bad you thought. You then felt that someone was standing behind you. Towering really until your breath hitched a bit.

Jughead’s POV

Washing my hands, I couldn’t help but over think about how Y/N was acting. I was trying to recall if she was always so distant from others in a group like that. Granted, I hadn’t seen her around with any friends in a while.

I opened the door to the hallway and looked to my left for her. I saw her eyes at the floor gently nodding to the words that Chuck seemed to utter to her. She was trying to step back from him but his body was situated close to her. It was as if her body froze and her feet couldn’t help her.

I made my way up to them and Y/N finally looked up upon seeing me. “Hey Chuck…what’s going on?”. My eyes filled with a bit of rage but I tried to remain calm.

Chuck gave a smirk to me and then caught Y/N’s eyes. “Nothing that concerns you. Y/N and I were just chatting was all. But I think she understands everything”, his eyes landed back at her as the words escaped his mouth. Y/N gave a gentle nod and Chuck turned to be on his way in the opposite direction.

I sneered at his walk until I looked back to Y/N. “What was that about?”

“Nothing. We’re going to be late. Come on”, her words were direct and quick but she wouldn’t make eye contact with me.

“Y/N…”, it looked as if her body was shivering from terror. My hand gently went to her shoulder.

“Jughead. Leave it alone. You promise you would”, she turned her body from mine releasing the small grasp I had on her shoulder.

“But Chuck…”, I quickly caught her pace until her words cut me off.

“Is nothing I can’t handle. We’re going to be late. I don’t like being late”, there was a tension in her voice. As if all of her focus was just getting to class and nothing else mattered.

“Fine”, I walked behind her while we remained silent in the tension between us.

She barely spoke to me the rest of the day. Her eyes in a daze, worse than they were this morning. The last bell rung and I found her by her locker collecting her books. “Hey, can I walk you home?”, my intentions had multiple purposes.

Her brow furrowed a bit, “…why?”.

I shrugged, “because we’re friends”.

“Look Jughead…if this is about…"

I cut her off from her words, “a promise is a promise for me Y/N. I am worried about you, don’t get me wrong. But I told you I wouldn’t pester you so I won’t ”.

Her face fell at my words. I’m not sure if it was out of relief or guilt but she seem satisfied with them nonetheless. “Okay”, her voice was soft, meek and she struggled to get air almost. I don’t know what I did, but her demeanor completely changed in front of me.

We made it outside until we both heard a whistle, a cat call of its own. “Careful there Y/N! He’s a Serpents kid!”, I heard the yell and chuckle of Chuck behind us and her pace hurried up while not bothering to look behind her.

I followed suit trying to catch up to her. She was quiet, steadily walking now to her house.

I broke the tension. “He’s an asshole”.

She gave a sigh but it was meek still. “I’m aware of that”.

A long pause once again hovered over us. I could tell she knew I wanted to ask the question I had been pestering with her for days, but I resisted in my questioning.

She broke the tension now. “I just want to get home and sulk…I hate this day”. She paused in her steps for a second until her eyes looked up to mine. “Not about your friends though. They really seem nice”. She was trying to reassure me that nothing I had done was the fault in her day being horrible.

I gave a nod with a quick smile. “They are”, we had stopped in front of her house. “Will you be sulking alone?"

"My Dad doesn’t come home until about 8 so yeah…”. I had recognized the porch to a distant memory to when we were about 9. Us playing in the front yard while her mom brought us something to drink and some snacks. “What about your mom?”. I had realized I hadn’t known anything new about her since the 5th grade.

“She doesn’t live here anymore Jug”. A nickname she hadn’t used in years came out of her lips as if it was second nature. “They got divorced, a while back now”. She gave a shrug, no worry or tears in her eyes as it seemed to be something she had accepted for a while.

“Sorry. I didn’t know…” I felt guilty about my question while she walked to the door.

“I know Jughead. Life happens”. She gave a sigh as her thoughts drifted somewhere else with her comment. “You coming in? If you are anything like you used to be, you’re hungry I would imagine”.

Her keys went in the lock as I nodded with a “sure ”, and followed her in. A lot of the house looked the same. The same pictures hung on the wall with the house that smelled a bit like Y/N herself. A mix of cinnamon and lavender. The furniture had changed and now a larger tv was in the living room. She set her bag down and I sat mine besides it.

Instinctively I took off my shoes remembering the time her mom yelled at me for putting my sneakers on her couch.

Y/N’s gaze looked over and she chuckled a little. “I think that was the only time she ever yelled at you. I forgot about that”. She made her way to the living room and turned on the tv. I sat down on a couch while I heard her behind me grabbing some stuff from the kitchen. She returned with some drinks, a bag of chips and some onion dip.

“So a movie or homework?”. She gave a smile that was bigger than the only one she had earlier that day. Her feet went to the coffee table as she got comfortable on the other end of the couch.

We watched a movie for a bit but when I looked over I could see her focus changing. She didn’t watch what was in front of her as her thoughts were once again drawn to something darker. I threw a chip at her which caught her attention. “Sorry I…”, she stopped in her words not wanting to go into her thoughts.

“It’s fine”, I gave a shrug while another chip entered my mouth.

A long pause came between us as we both tried to focus on the movie. She played with her nails a bit until she looked at the ground in front of her. She grabbed the remote and pressed pause. Her eyes never came back up. She released a large breath. “Veronica has met me before”.

I looked to her with questionable eyes and she looked back. Her eyes tearing up. Whatever was coming next, I knew it was going to be painful for her. And the last thing I wanted was for her to feel that way.

#jughead x reader #jughead jones #jughead imagine #jughead jones imagine #riverdale #riverdale imagines

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pokemonfreak387 · 7 years

Text

Winter Break (Redone) Chapter 11 (Friskriel Fanfic)

Notes: Oh hey look. Angst. Huh, that was a thing the original fic was definitely missing. No wonder it was a shitty story. Also fair warning, the word f** is used uncensored in this chapter. Thanks to @thunders29 for proofreading and being supportive!

Chapter Summary: Asriel makes his way back to school after the winter break, but trouble soon rears its ugly head for him. The fiasco at the party has already been spread, and Asriel is more than upset about it. 2543 Words.

Chapter 11 Then We Wouldn’t Have to Deal With You Moggers

Asriel groaned as his alarm clock blared in his ears. If there was a thing all teens his age could agree on, it would be that the alarm on the first day back to school after a long break is both the loudest and most annoying one yet. It didn’t help him either that he could barely sleep thinking about what may happen when he gets back to school, especially after the New Year’s Party fiasco. Granted, Asriel didn’t see any of the school gossipers there at the party ironically, so there was a chance he was safe.

As Asriel slowly sat up and turned off his alarm, he heard a small noise being emitted next to him. He turned his head to find that Frisk was actually laying next to him still asleep. Two questions popped into his head: Why was Frisk here, and how did they sleep through the alarm? No matter the answer, Asriel gently made his way out of bed without waking them up, collected his clothes for the day, and went downstairs for breakfast.

It wasn’t until Asriel had breakfast and showered that he saw Frisk again that morning. He was laying in the loft, drawing on his sketchbook, when he heard his door open. Sure enough, Frisk appeared from behind it, one of Asriel’s blankets wrapped around them.

“You’re up early.” Asriel remarked, peeking above his sketchbook.

Frisk didn’t respond, but instead made their way over to the boss monster. They gently took the sketchbook out of his hands, placed it on the coffee table, and flopped themselves on top of him. He let out a surprised puff as he got most of the air knocked out of him, but it was shortly followed by giggles.

“Mmm, warm…” Frisk murmured.

“Even being wrapped in that thing, you’re still cold?” Asriel chuckled. “By the way, why were you in my bed this morning?”

Frisk rubbed their head deeper into Asriel’s chest. “Room… Too cold. Wanted warmth.”

Asriel never did understand why humans got so cold so easily, even when they had on garments that practically simulated fur on their body. Maybe it was because humans didn’t have magic within them to keep them warm? Definitely a question to ask Alphys today in class. Speaking of which, Asriel fished his phone from his pocket and saw it was time for him to leave. As much as he didn’t want to leave the comforting embrace of his lover, school called, and Toriel was going to be even more pissed if he didn’t go. Asriel gently kissed Frisk on their head and guided them back to their feet, Frisk letting out a groan in protest.

“Asriel…” They started. “Please be careful today. I’m worried what may happen to you.”

“S-same, honestly.” He replied. “Maybe with luck, everyone has forgotten about it?”

Frisk gave him a face.

“Hey I’m just trying to be optimistic.”

Frisk just chuckled and shook their head. They then walked up to Asriel and gave him a kiss. They stayed together for a while, their tongues twisting with each other, until they broke off and Asriel made his way to school.

---

When Asriel first came to middle school, he remembered people constantly whispering around him. He knew the whispers then were about him, some good, some bad, all leaving him with soul-shaking anxiety. Now in high school, the whispering had become somewhat less, and any whispering that did occur didn’t affect Asriel quite as much as it did before. However, it seemed the whispering was especially loud today, and the Anxiety that Asriel had first felt four years ago came back.

Trying to avoid the gazes of the students around him, Asriel made it to his Chinese class. He was glad to see John and Dave already there, though part of him was also a little disgusted by them. Maybe it was the memory of the two of them going off somewhere during the party to bang, but he didn’t give it much attention. Instead, he put on his best cheery facade and walked up to them.

“John! Dave!” Asriel greeted. “Howdy, how’s it going?”

John jumped at his voice and gave Asriel a nervous look. When Dave turned around and faced the boss monster, even through his shades, his eyes looked worrying. It was rare to see Dave have any sort of emotion, so this led to Asriel to instantly lose what positivity he had.

“Um… Asriel,” John said nervously. “You… May want to read this.”

He handed Asriel over a paper. It was the school’s newspaper, the “What’s News” newspaper. Seems even Toriel had gotten her hands on naming this, but that wasn’t what caught Asriel’s eye and the boys’ attention. No, what made them act so anxious was the headline”

BREAKING NEWS: IS THE HUMAN-MONSTER AMBASSADOR AN INCESTUAL TETRAPHILE?

On the night of December 31st, 2020, a majority of the town, Ebott, had been invited over to the Mettamansion for the ever popular Mettaton’s annual New Year’s Party. It was a very exciting event, especially since this was the first time ever that the human-monster ambassador, Frisk Dreemurr, had been able to attend one of these parties. There was plenty of enjoyment to be had, listening to their story of how they made it through the underground first-hand. However, it was only shortly after they finished their story that we got a shock of a lifetime. Around 11:05, Frisk had begun searching for their brother, Asriel Dreemurr. Nobody thought anything of it at first, until Asriel suddenly appeared in front of them, more drunk than a JRPG character. The 16-year old boss monster must have been drinking out of loneliness, as shortly after he had begun to what seemed to be sexually advancing onto Frisk. They showed resistance, that is until Asriel had begun to try to kiss them! He had blacked out during it, but it was very obvious what he was trying to do. This leads many questions to the public: are Frisk and Asriel in a relationship? Does the ambassador have more personal reasons for their ambassadorship? How long has this been going on? How will this affect Frisk personally? We will find answers soon.

When Asriel finished reading the article, he was so enraged that he burned the paper into ashes within seconds, and tossed them into the trash. John and Dave looked at him with fear and surprise.

“Hey!” John whined. “I paid a dollar for that!”

Asriel shot him back a glare that made John cower. Asriel seemed to be a lot scarier than he normally was. Dave had assumed that Asriel would begin to freak out like his usual anxious self, but he did not foresee this. In a low voice, Asriel growled something.

“Who wrote this!?”

The boys looked at each other.

“I-I think Marco Linder.” Dave responded. “He is the director of the press. Go to Mrs. Lalonde, she may be able to tell you more.”

In an instant, Asriel stormed out of the classroom, leaving the boys and any other bystanders stunned. John and Dave gave each other a look, and they made their way to Mrs. Lalonde’s room. There was no telling what Asriel would do at this state.

---

Rage didn’t even define what Asriel was feeling right now. He expected an attack on himself, especially with how much he knew there was a lot people in the school that didn’t like him, and he would’ve taken it passively as per usual. But frisk? No, that was crossing the fucking line, and Marco was about to learn that. It would be a miracle if Asriel didn’t get suspended from burning him to a crisp.

Mrs. Lalonde’s room was directly below Mr. Walsh’s class, so the trip wasn’t too long. However, no matter the distance, it seemed someone beat Asriel to the punch. Someone who, just like the teen, was a white, furred monster of large, threatening size. There was no mistaking the loud, lecturing voice. Even if it seemed way more malicious than usual, Asriel knew exactly who was already chewing out his target.

“Do you realize just how much damage you have dealt to so many reputations?” Toriel asked in a surprisingly restrained voice. “And you just let this story slide? Without thinking just how badly it would affect the world? This school was not built on rumors and dishonesty!”

“He claims that he was just going to report on something about the party.” Mrs. Lalonde tried to explain. “I didn’t go so I wasn’t aware that what he was reporting was this.”

“But didn’t you look at the final print before it was published?”

“N-no… I just thought, since he’s been doing so well, I had confidence in Marco that it was perfect.”

Toriel scoffed at the teacher’s ignorance. She then turned to Marco, fire almost literally burning in her eyes.

“Listen up, young man. This school is built on patience, bravery, integrity, perseverance, kindness, justice, and determination. This school was not built on childish rumors that are to be reported in the school news!”

“But it isn’t a rumor!” Marco talked back, no hint of regret or restrain in his voice. “Besides, you’re just biased cause these are your kids!”

“Well I am a mother to my children first, so as their mother I demand you tell me why you did it.”

Marco huffed in frustration. “We were short in stories and we needed something good. Unlucky for you, someone managed to hand us this gem of a story.”

“Who?” Toriel demanded, but Marco just laughed.

“You think I would tell you? A news reporter never reveals their sources.”

“Is that so? Well, I’m sure you’d be happy to tell the same thing to your parents once you are suspended on the grounds of bad attitude, failure to comply to the school rules, and threatening the life of a student. Not to mention if I don’t hear who told you right now, the Newspaper Club will be disbanded, and Mrs. Lalonde loses some of her paycheck.”

A whine came from the teacher, but she refused to speak. Marco also seemed to not want to talk, but there was no fear in his eyes, only challenge. Toriel could not believe this. She had never met such an ignorant, stubborn person in her life. It’s hard to believe that she used to think that Marco was actually once a good student when he first came to the school two years ago. What has this world turned into?

The stare off between Toriel and Marco was cut short as some called out “Excuse me,” from the audience that had formed behind Asriel. Everyone turned towards the bunny monster who spoke up. She shrank back when she suddenly realized everyone was looking at her, then mumbled something barely audible.

“Speak up child.” Toriel commanded, a little softer than she has been.

“I-it was a g-girl named Gillian.” The bunny explained. At the word Gillian, Asriel gasped, and all his rage suddenly melted into disbelief. “Gillian Tynnclear from B-Black Hills High Sch-school. We got the info f-from her.”

Toriel sighed at that news. Black Hills has not been a very friendly school with Tutoriel High, so she wasn’t too surprised it was a student from that anti-monster school. She recomposed herself and looked around the room. Her eyes then landed back on Mrs. Lalonde and Marco.

“Well, it seems at least someone can show a little integrity.” She remarked. “Mrs. Lalonde, the Newspaper club is to not release any more issues until we see some justice. Mr. Linder, I will see you in my office after school with your parents. The rest of you, please go to your first periods, the bell is about to ring.”

The audience parted like the Red Sea as Toriel walked out of the room, a small shake in her stride. The students soon dispersed, chatting about what just happened, some praising the bunny, some throwing tetraphobic jokes her and Toriel’s way. Mrs. Lalonde even left the room, looking like she was about to pass out in fear. This just left Asriel and Marco. One look at the rather short human, and Asriel’s rage reignited.

Asriel advanced over to him. Fireballs had begun to form in his hands, the flames shaking without much restraint. Determination and anger were plastered on the boss monster’s face as he spoke to the senior.

“Why?” He growled. “Why would you ruin all we worked for? All the PEACE we worked for!?”

The second Asriel got the last word out, Marco became a blur, and Asriel felt something smack him right in the cheek, knocking him to the ground in pain and snuffing out the flames in his palms. The world blurred, and Asriel began to feel dizzy. His cheek began to go numb as he saw a pair of shoes walk up to him, kicking him in the stomach and knocking the air out of him as he curled up in pain.

“Peace? Bullshit. All you monsters are nothing but trouble.” Marco spewed. “You all come here with your magical bullshit, suddenly claiming everyone is connected by their ‘souls’ and then we find out you can actually MAKE lives? You all have played god long enough.”

He kicked Asriel again.

“If only Trump actually became president. Then we wouldn’t have to deal with you moggers.”

Moggers was the worst insult one could call any monster. It was an old phrase from before the war, often used more to describe the more corrupt monsters. However, today it was used as a slur, much like fag and the n-word. It was the nail in the coffin to make tears finally stream from Asriel.

“Go back to the Underground, and then go to hell.” Marco spat, leaving Asriel to squirm on the floor in pain. When the door closed, Asriel let out a sob that he had been holding in. He wasn’t crying over being attacked, or being insulted, or even at meeting possibly the worst human ever. No, what made him cry was that he broke the promise he made to Frisk that morning. He blamed himself, as per usual, and was afraid to see Frisk after this. At the same time, he wanted them now more than ever. They would heal him, make him feel better, just make him forget about this only for a little while. But instead, Asriel just laid on the cold, tiled floor, crying.

A short minute later, Asriel heard a loud zap, followed by a pair of arms picking him up. He tried to look through the tears and dizziness to see exactly who it was. All he saw was a round, bone white head, and something blue underneath it.

“C’mon kid, let’s get you home.” The character said. Asriel felt a rush of wind and the background suddenly changed. He finally saw the character to be Sans, which made sense to him now that he thought about it. Sans laid the boss teen down on his bed, taking off his shoes and pulling the covers over him. He gave one last scratch to the back of Asriel’s ear before walking off.

“Rest up,” He whispered. “I’ll go get Frisk.”

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speakingofnarwhals · 7 years

Text

The Raven Riders (pt. 25): Ronan Lynch

I am happy with this chapter. Amazing.

Part 24 found here~~~~~~~~~

Everyone knows Ronan is signed up for the races. That doesn’t mean he’s going to ride where everyone can gawk at him. The last thing he needs is Declan or the Malverns getting on his ass.

Instead he practices on a secluded section of beach not too far from the Barns. It’s a pain to get to, but well hidden. The cliff is steep in areas, sometimes slick with water and crumbly gravel. Anyone with half a brain wouldn’t dare to ride a capaill down something so dangerous, not when it was so important to focus on the horse above all else. Ronan had long ago accepted that he was a dumbass, though. Besides, though she hated it, Chainsaw would always make the climb without flinching.

Ronan had almost forgotten how it felt to ride, to feel the cold October wind in his face, the sting of sea salt against a cut on his lip. His heart raced, an echo of how it had when he was younger, galloping his little island pony over the fields of the Barns, or racing in the BMW down country roads, passing Kavinsky’s Evo with middle finger extended. Some people felt very strongly about horses or cars; people on Thisby especially seemed to favor one or the other for going fast. Ronan saw the benefits of both.

The capaill was fast and wild. She fed off of his energy and he fed off of hers. Just as he could feel the engine rumbling through the floorboards of his car, he could feel her muscles expand and contract beneath her skin. Both were wild, and both could go very fast, which were Ronan’s two main requirements.

Kavinsky always argued that cars were better. More predictable, less intent on killing you. For a while, Ronan had a agreed.

These days, he’s started thinking that a car could kill you just as easily as a capaill uisce. What did intent matter when you were already dead?

“Lynch!” a voice hollers from down the beach. Ronan’s hold on the reins tightens, and Chainsaw clicks eagerly, feeling his tension. He hasn’t heard from Kavinsky in ages, not since the night of the Festival.

He’s here now. With just the right breath out, just the slightest change in his seat, Ronan stops Chainsaw with barely a touch to the reins. Then he wheels her around to face Kavinsky, and blinks. He takes a moment to confirm the voice he heard was K’s, but it’s pretty obvious considering he’s there. Right in front of him. But just above eye-level, despite the fact that Ronan’s sitting on a sixteen-hand mare.

Because K’s riding (in the loosest form of the word) a capaill uisce. The horse is chestnut, coat shimmering from brilliant flame to blood as it dances in and out of the shadow of the cliff. There’s a thick froth on its lips as it constantly worries the bit, and flecks of it coat its neck and chest. The whites around its eyes flash in the moonlight as it whips its head around to inspect K’s leg, and K wobbles as he clumsily jerks the horse’s head back around with the reins. Ronan can hear the sound of an ill-fitted bit clicking against the horse’s teeth as he does.

The idiot sits on the horse like it’s a couch.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Ronan snaps, his heart fluttering anxiously at the sight of the mad horse, and he isn’t even on it.

Kavinsky grins, baring his teeth like a wolf. He’s wearing his sunglasses. It’s fucking midnight and he’s wearing his shitty sunglasses while riding a sea mad horse near the end of October.

“What are you doing, princess?” he returns, “I thought you hated these things.”

“Fuck, K, don’t get bitchy with me. Where the fuck did you get that thing? It’s going to kill you.”

Kavinsky’s still grinning his Cheshire smile when he asks, “Where’d you get yours?”

Ronan’s knuckles are white on the reins, and Chainsaw’s head tucks in to avoid the added pressure on the bit. He forces himself to give her a bit more rein, “You can’t race,” he points out, instead of acknowledging Kavinsky’s question, “It’s too late to enter.”

“Who says I want to?” Kavinsky shrugs, “Maybe I just want to see what all the fuss is about.” He digs his heels into the chestnut’s side and it bolts forward.

With a shriek, Chainsaw rears and dodges out of the way. Ronan grabs for her mane as Kavinsky’s knee slams into his, forcing his leg into her side so she bolts for the sea. He catches her with his other leg and the reins, turns her away from the ocean, all the while muttering sharply to her, reminding her who’s in charge.

Kavinsky’s horse slides to a stop in the sand. “Don’t wreck as easily as a car, at least,” he notes as he turns around.

Kavinsky charges at them again, but Ronan and his horse are ready. Chainsaw hops to the side, toward the cliff face this time. He feels accomplished for only a second. Then Kavinsky whirls toward them, pinning Chainsaw between the cliff and the sea mad capaill. With another earsplitting shriek, Chainsaw lunges further into the wall, slamming Ronan’s leg into the rock as she attempts to slip away. He hears his jeans ripping, feels hot blood flow down his leg.

Breaking free of Kavinsky, Chainsaw bolts forward, uncontrolled for a moment as Ronan regains his balance. He drags her to a halt before she can jump into the ocean, but it’s a close thing. Her left shoulder is glistening with blood, and he imagines her haunches are just as bad.

“What the fuck, K?” he snarls.

K and his red horse are still standing in the shadow of the cliff, and Ronan doesn’t think they’ll attack again, but he knows that if they do Chainsaw will rush to the safety of the ocean, and he’ll be royally fucked.

Kavinsky’s grin is glittering white in the shadows, “Like I said, just seeing what all the fuss is about.” he shrugs, and Chainsaw tenses as he kicks the red horse forward.

“Stay the fuck away, asshole,” Ronan snarls. He can’t get Chainsaw to walk forward, away from the ocean, because the other capaill is that way, too. Instead, he edges her carefully along the shore, hoping to get a clear shot at the slope they came down on.

“Sure thing, princess,” Kavinsky sneers, and even that is too obliging for Kavinsky. Ronan tenses, preparing for another attack. Chainsaw lets out a wary keen, so soft he can barely hear it over the waves. But Kavinsky turns away, walks further down the beach, calling a final, “Good luck, sweetheart,” over his shoulder.

“Christ,” Adam mutters, not for the first time that night, “Kavinsky seriously managed this on a capaill?”

Ronan grunts assent, and quickly returns to muttering sweet nothings to his horse. Adam carefully brushes antiseptic along a particularly big tear in her shoulder, and she hisses, baring her teeth. Ronan tries not to tense up too much at the sight of those massive canines.

“At least nothing’s broken. She’ll just be sore for a while.” Adam comments, “I don’t think I can bandage any of this, though.” he gestures to the mauled remains of Chainsaw’s shoulder. Then he asks, also not for the first time, “Are you sure you don’t want to take her to a vet?”

“Declan won’t pay for it.” he snarls, again.

Adam looks doubtful, but he turns his attention to rechecking the bandages covering the scrapes on Chainsaw’s upper leg. “I just don’t get it. Where the fuck would he get a horse this late in the season? And why would he bother?”

“To fuck with me, that’s why,” Ronan snaps, still not willing to touch the first line of questioning.

Adam, fortunately, is too busy trying to solve this puzzle to actually listen to him, “I mean, it has to have been trained, for him to have been able to control it like you said. I’m amazed Gansey’s even able to control that stallion of his, and the Sargents put a little training on him...”

Ronan doesn’t bother to interrupt, rubbing circles on Chainsaw’s muzzle as Adam moves to her haunches. Dodging a half-hearted kick as he cleans the scrapes there, Adam continues thinking to himself.

“Where would he even keep it? He’d have to board it somewhere...” he trails off into a yawn. In his stall, the palomino stallion huffs, annoyed at being kept awake so long.

Chainsaw shivers a little, even though Adam has turned away from her to get a new cloth.

Ronan scowls, “She’s scared of capaill,” he snaps, and Adam frowns at him.

“Do you think he meant to do that?” Adam asks, “Obviously he beat her up pretty badly, you’ll miss some training time, but...”

“K’s not smart enough for that,” Ronan answers, but he’s not as certain as he’d like to be. What does he know about Kavinsky, anyways? Sure, he looked terrible on a horse, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t know anything. If he’s anything like Ronan, he probably wouldn’t have to have much practice at all to ride a capaill passably.

But surely he can’t be like Ronan. That’s not possible.

Adam is the smart one, and Ronan wishes that he could ask him what he thinks. But that’s absolutely not possible, because that would involve telling Adam about him, and that is not allowed. After a moment, he’s stunned that he even thought something so ridiculous. What would Adam think, if he knew about Ronan’s way with the horses? He would be furious. After he worked his ass off training and working and trying to make board, Ronan had not only money and his own facilities, but some inexplicable magic to give him an advantage.

No, he’d have to figure this out on his own.

#the raven riders #kavinsky #adam parrish #ronan lynch

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