#did I accidentally make this edition a little bit to relatable though (at least in SOME parts)? yes. yes I did. no regrets. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jarofstyles · 4 years

Text

Crush

A/N: this one.... biiiitch.... giving you all a little college!harry, he’s so cute 👉🏼👈🏼 enjoy hehe 😈 - n + d

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pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warnings: smut. FILTH.

word count: 9.7k

Harry felt a bit creepy.

It wasn’t as if it was on purpose! No... but she was at all of the places he went. At first he had thought it was a coincidence, but as he developed a routine for his classes, he found that they were often around each other for similar reasons. And usually? He would try and go up, introduce himself, and make a friend. The problem was... she was pretty.

Not like normal pretty. Pretty as in, holy fuck you make me so nervous and perhaps I’ll word vomit, pretty. He was shit at making the first move. She was in his Monday and Friday classes and sat not far from him, he noticed. And they always ended up at the Coffee Bean on Tuesday and Thursdays, sitting not too far from one another again. She got tea with a few cookies, and he got a black coffee and an orange scone. They’d work on their coursework and Harry would wait for her to leave and see her make it to her car before he would leave, not wanting to make it seem like he was following her. He’s found out her name through friends stopping in to see her. It was Y/N. Gorgeous, just like her.

Funny enough, Harry wasn’t the only one who had a bit of a crush. Y/N realized in the second week of classes that Harry was in fact one of the most intimidatingly cool and attractive men she’d ever seen. College boys weren’t supposed to look like that, but he was all soft in his sweaters and baggy pants. She wasn’t sure how he pulled it off so well, but she could admit she was jealous.

Seeing him at the Coffee bean was a relief because well, he walked in after her every time. She assumed it was because he had a class that ended later or something, but it didn’t go unnoticed that he was there. Usually it wasn’t too busy or loud so she could glance at him from the corner of her eye as they sat at one of the big tables. She felt like it would be too weird to talk to him, he seemed so... quiet. She’d never heard him speak, hell, she’d only ever locked eyes with him for milliseconds. Y/N wished she could be one of those girls that could effortlessly flirt, ask for a pencil or something, but she knew she’d freeze up and forget her rehearsed line.

Today however, when Y/N arrived, Harry was already there at his usual spot. Okay, Y/N... act natural. She thought to herself, going to order her usual before walking to boldly take a seat across from him. It would have worked out fine if her tote bag didn’t accidentally catch the corner of one of his books, sending things flying.

“Shit— sorry, I—” Y/N swore, setting her bag on the table before bending down to get the book and a few papers and a pen. Real smooth.

Harry was slightly startled when his shit went flying, but when he saw who had knocked it over, his heart picked up. Oh, shit.

“Oh— it’s okay, don’t worry about it.” Harry’s voice was a bit gruff from not using it much today, pushing his chair back and bending down to grab the stuff with her. “S’my fault for putting it so close to the edge. I used to do that at home and my cat would knock it all off.”

Great. Already rambling.

Y/N didn’t register it at first, but he was british? Fuck. If she wasn’t already on her knees she would dropped down anyway, biting her lip to stop any noises that could have escaped. She giggled when he said his cat used to knock things over, “mine too.” She mumbled and went to stand up, feeling a tug at her arm.

“Ah, shit.” Harry had caught his ring in her sweater, pulling one of the threads. “Damn, I’m so sorry.” He blushed slightly, knowing how annoying it was to have a pulled thread. His collection of sweaters was immense, thanks to his nan— and he felt terrible. Damn his chunky things. “They always get caught in mine too but I wear them anyways. I can replace the sweater, if you need.” Damn it. He was trying to come off as smooth... not so nervous. But he was. She was so pretty and she was up close, she smelled like peaches and vanilla and a bit of sweet mint and her hands were so soft.

“Oh no, It’s fine! it’s old anyway— I can just cut it off or tuck it in or something.” Honestly, Y/N would figure it out. The last thing she wanted was for him to feel bad, it was an accident after all. She let him untangle it, holding her hand still though it seemed like he needed some help. “Smaller fingers...” She mumbled, using her nails to get the thread gently off of the ring. “‘s a nice ring.” Y/N complimented, finally meeting his eyes and feeling the breath leave her lungs at the close proximity. Her lips parted naturally, scanning his face for any signs of discomfort.

She was beautiful Harry though he may get sick because wow. Wow. He had imagined holding her hand and kissing her but this exact moment he hadn’t a clue on what to do. So he improvised.

“Are you in the 8 am psych class on Mondays?” He tilted his head. “I know I’ve seen you before.” Oh, he had seen her a lot. Especially in his dreams, day and night. It had been a bit intoxicating, really. At her nod, his grin came on his face. “Sick. S’that what you’re gonna study for?” He didn’t bring up the other class because... it would be embarrassing if she hadn’t noticed him before and he knew all too much. He needed a refill of his coffee though so he grabbed his cup, gently taking her things and placing them on the table next to his. “At least let me buy your stuff though. I feel awful about your sweater.”

“I’m actually just waiting on them to finish making mine, I was on my way to secure a spot but—” Y/N blushed, realizing the mess she had made. “Could you get it for me while you’re up there? It’s for Y/N. I can sit here and watch your stuff.” She felt like that was a subtle way for her to tell him her name.

This was the most she had ever spoken to him and it had been about a month or so that she’d been eyeing him up. She knew he was in her English literature class as well, but psych was her major. Y/N wondered if maybe he too was a psych major, maybe that’s why they sort of had the same schedule? Regardless, she felt a bit nervous making conversation so she spent the time he was away coming up with what she was going to ask him and how she was going to keep the ball rolling. Hopefully she didn’t interrupt his studying, if anything she’d leave him alone.

“Y/N?” He tested it on his tongue out loud for the first time. It tasted good. “Yeah. M’Harry. I’ll be back.” He nodded, going towards the front. His heart going a mile a minute, he couldn’t believe how quickly his luck had changed. He ordered an extra cake pop today, for her. she had said it didn’t matter but to him, it did. Eventually he hoped he could buy her a replacement. Or... maybe she could wear his around. Wow. That would stroke his ego and his fragile heart to the core. He could already see her on his lavender fishermen’s sweater, in front of his fireplace back at home. She would be so cute. The voice calling her name snapped him out of the fantasy, Harry grabbing it and then his own shortly after before returning to the table. “Here. I got the last cake pop for you. Don’t tell anyone I’m the offender.”

“Ooo you’re a dead man if they find out.” Y/N said, looking around before gently taking it from him. “Thank you... that’s sweet.” She blushed, taking a bite of it before taking a sip of her chai latte. Now that she had stuff to fiddle around with she could take a breather and not have to worry about filling space. “But um.. did interrupt something? Don’t want to distract you...” Y/N nodded over to his laptop, secretly hoping that he wasn’t up to much so that she could chat to him. She just wanted to know the basics, literally anything would satisfy her craving. Harry was quite literally her wet dream, she’d been looking all around campus for someone like him to come around. “I uh... I think I’m also in your English lit class? I feel like I see you around often.” Y/N spoke, pushing a piece of her hair behind her ear. “What’s your major?” She felt like this conversation was light, something that would eventually lead into other things like... if he was single and looking for a girlfriend.

“Oh, you’re not bugging me. I’ve kind of been staring at the screen and zoning out if m’honest.” Harry chuckled, embarrassed a little to admit it. But everyone could relate to that, right? “And yeah... actually I think so.” He smiled lightly before taking a sip of his drink. Victory! She had noticed him too. He wasn’t the lonely creep who stared at the first who had no idea who he was. She knew who he was, kind of. He gently drew his sweater over his hands like little paws before going to her question. “English. I want to write and stuff, edit maybe. My dad has a publishing company so, I’m lucky I like a bit of the family business.” He tried to joke, looking at her. God. It was unnerving how beautiful and also, how fucking comfortable she was to be around. What a contrast. “And you? What major?” He took a nibble of his scone, not wanting to make a mess.

English? He’s a writer? Goodness. She was going to lose it.

“That’s cool, any specific genre you like to write?” Y/N asked curiously because well, it would actually tell her a lot about him and the kind of person he was. “I picture some mystery or possibly poetry, could go either way.” She said and squinted her eyes as she looked at him, pretending to size him up. “I can’t say I’m all that interesting, a psych major. Just like every other artsy person who doesn’t exactly want to commit to an art degree.” Y/N chuckled, “still deciding between criminal justice or counseling but... either way I’d be happy to get to pick someone’s brain. She did have the habit of analyzing people but only so she could understand them better. Y/N knew that all people wanted at the core was to be understood and loved for who they are, for the most part. Harry seemed reserved, calm and relaxed, secure in himself that’s for sure. It was extremely attractive.

“Oh? That’s really cool though.” Harry was genuinely interested in what she had to say either way. The major didn’t matter in his interest in her but it gave him information and something to talk about. If she was marketing or math he would be just as interested. “Criminal seems particularly interesting. Like that criminal minds show then? You’ll learn how they work and all of that?” He didn’t really know what it meant or why she had chosen it. “But close. I write romance novels.” He blushed fully. “Don’t judge me for it. But s’easy for me and I’m good at it, or so I’ve been told. I’ve been writing for a while.” He felt himself loosen up as they talked. Even if she intimidated him, she was really nice and sweet. “Poetry too, lots of it. But romance is my main thing, I’d like to do novels and that sort of stuff.” He could see she didn’t think it was lame, rather interesting. Which was a major relief. He wanted to impress her, so so badly.

“Sorta, yeah. Like... being able to predict a criminal's next move, psychologically.” Y/N explained and shrugged, “feel like it’s really fun and interesting but terrifying all at once. Dunno if I could actually interview a criminal without feeling like it was going to cry.” She let out a laugh, knowing she was quite soft. Her face lit up when he said he wrote romance novels. Wow. Well, as if he wasn’t a character right out of a romcom himself! She felt like that’s what this was. A romcom. Bumping into him at a coffee shop like a scene straight from one. “Really?! So you’re a proper romantic then? Buy the last cake pop for every girl, hmm?” She gave him a bashful smile. The very last thing she was doing was judge, she was more so thinking about their wedding. Yep. Already. Daydreaming because she swore she’d hit the jackpot. Wasn’t even sure if he liked her yet, but she was hopeful. After all, she’d turned on her charm.

“I guess I am.” Harry smirked to himself slightly at the good reception. Damn. He had been so worried and hesitant- he should have just talked to her. She wasn’t... that scary. Only a little bit.

He let her talk a bit more about her degree and Harry went on to speak about his favorite authors, and then the conversation shifted towards their classes and how he had been struggling slightly in psych— which led to her offering to help. Harry was shocked because honestly he hadn’t expected it from her, but he was pleased. He was happy to have an excuse to hang out with her more. See more of her and be able to teach himself to relax properly around her. He felt like a damn wind up toy, giddy and excited.

“That would be so helpful, if you could. And if you don’t mind.” He stressed. “I have a place off campus, if you’d want to go there? I’ll buy you some pizza or something for your help.” He was a giver and if it meant getting a $20 pizza for her because he wanted good quality, then he would!

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Y/N was practically jumping up and down with joy in her mind, this was a turn of events. She went from secretly crushing on him to being invited over his house in only a few hours. “I can never say no to pizza, but it’s really no problem. They say if you can teach it to someone else then you truly understand it so it’ll be a good test for me. Y/N also knew that they wouldn’t just study. Come on. It was a Friday night and study was practically code for hook up, especially considering he had invited her to his place and not the library. She had to prepare, had to make sure she looked cute and everything. She’d shower before hand too, the whole nine. “I can be there around 6?” Y/N suggested, checking her calendar app even though she already knew when she could come. She had to at least look like she wasn’t jumping at the idea.

“That’s cool. Uh— here, if you want I can put my number in your phone and whenever you want I can text you the address?” Oh, fuck. How, how the tables have turned. He had gone from wistfully staring at her every day to having a scheduled study session with her, the girl he’d been practically having wet dreams about. Having a full conversation and then her having his number! He was giddy and playing with the sleeves of his sweater as a result of the excited nerves. “Do you have any allergies? I do have a kitten at home.” He wanted to make sure he wouldn’t have to put Marie away. He loved his baby but he wanted to try something and see if she would be cool with him in a private setting. It would be less hard to talk about deeper things without people around. He took her phone from her and typed in his number, adding his name with a little 📚 after it. That wasn’t too much, right?

“Aw you do! I have one too, well... he thinks he’s a big boy.” Y/N shook her head at the thought of her sweet little Milo. Despite not doing anything she planned to do at the coffee shop, it still felt like a productive day in her eyes. Finally getting to chat with Harry felt like a breath of fresh air and he wasn’t all that scary now that she got to chatting with him. She took her phone back and smiled at the cute little emoji, sending him a text to let him know it was her before hesitantly getting up. “Alright well, I gotta get back to my kitten... but, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Y/N smiled, watching him stand up as well. The two of them walked out of the coffee shop and to their cars, Y/N being bold enough to give him a hug before opening her car door. “Night!” She was surprised with herself. Y/N was proud, completely over the moon and honestly she wasn’t sure how she was going to sleep tonight.

-----

Harry laid out on the bed that night with Marie on his chest. He had told her all about how the pretty Y/N had met him and that she would be coming over. The pretty cat was a long haired white kitty, and she purred along with Harry as he spoke. She liked hearing Harry be happy. It made him want to squeak when he heard his phone buzz and a little text from her popped up— he saved her as ‘Y/N 🌼’ because he felt like it fit. Part of him wanted to put a heart but he would be mortified if she saw and thought it was weird. She wore a yellow flower shirt one day so he figured that’s what he could excuse it as.

‘Hey, happy to hear from you! :) I hope your kitty is doing well. I meant to ask, you aren’t vegetarian are you?’

Y/N smiled at his text and attached a photo of her gray kitten laying across the top of her head while she laid down.

‘Yes, he’s quite cozy.’

‘I am actually! But I’m not too fussy.’

She couldn’t help it, she loved animals and she couldn’t bring herself to do it anymore. Occasionally, she would indulge in a chicken nugget or seafood, but for the most part she didn’t feel like she had to.

‘I’m going to get some sleep though, Good night Harry 💓’

That wasn’t too much was it? It was just a heart! She sent them to everyone. Y/N stayed up for a good ten minutes just digesting the day. Tomorrow would be even better, she had a feeling.

——

Harry was... well, he wasn’t sure how to describe the emotion. When Niall inevitably quizzed him on why he was acting strange, the best he had come up with was a mix of nerves and giddiness, also terror and extreme happiness. He was going to hang out with the girl he had been silently crushing on— and they had been texting quite frequently in the short time they had each other’s numbers. Was this going to be a regular thing? Was it going to blossom into more? He knew that he had wasted time before, not talking to her. She wasn’t scary! No... she was so sweet and kind and beautiful and everything she said made him a literal heart eye emoji. She had taken to sending him random photos, even so quickly in and it felt comfortable. He had even sent her a shot of Marie on the counter this morning, on top of his school notes. It was odd. The excitement he felt when he heard the bing from his phone of the vibration in his pocket... it was incredible. He liked this feeling. Damn it. This was such a new thing. He wanted to do more.

He saw her in class, watching as she crept in a bit after the last call should be with a sheepish smile on her face. He waved to her silently and watched her climb up, his heart beating quicker when she chose a seat closer to his than before. She wanted to sit near him? He clutched the rainbow patchwork sweater by the sleeves and fiddled with the cuffs, nerves and excitement swirling in his tummy.

If class wasn’t already on, Y/N knew she would have tried to spark up some conversation with Harry, but for now all she could manage was passing him a note.

‘I like your cardigan :)’

It was really cute. Most of Harry’s wardrobe was and in her dream world she already stole a few to wear. English literature wasn’t exactly the most exciting class, but Harry seemed invested. Y/N enjoyed watching him focus and take notes while she mostly doodled some random flowers and bears in her notebook. Her mind was thinking about what she was going to wear to his house and how she definitely needed a shower before and that she had to put on the lotion that matched her perfume. Was she overthinking this? Maybe. Of course it was just a study date, but you could never be too sure where things could go. And if they did— she wanted to be ready.

He knew that he needed to contain himself but his smile made it hard. She liked his cardigan. The random compliment had him feeling mushy and happy and there was definitely a blush on his cheeks as he clicked his pen and wrote back to her.

‘Thanks :) my nan knitted it for me. I like your little head band.’

He passed it back before opening his notebook back up. Her stare could be felt and he wanted to smirk a little at it because, well, who wouldn’t? She was so great, and he wanted to experience more of her but he was trying to not rush shit. He was a romance writer after all. All of it felt so in tune with his own wants and he had a hard time believing it was real. Sweet little Y/N wanted to hang out with him and she complimented his cardigan!

‘Awe!! That’s cute and thank youuuu 🥰’

She drew him a little smiley face with hearts around it, felt like it was very on brand for her and her emotive texting. Y/N felt all giddy because she had made a new friend but she was really hoping they wouldn’t just be friends.

Y/N knew she was hard to read because she was generally nice to everyone and honestly, Harry seemed to be the same way. She could only assume he liked her because he asked her to hang out so quickly. And he’d bought her a cake pop and was planning on buying pizza tonight. Was it a date then? Gosh, she needed to stop reading into it. Her leg kept bouncing up and down, mind trying to refocus and thankfully, their professor was discussing something she too had noticed in her reading. She still managed to steal quick glances at Harry for the rest of the class, giving him shy little smiles. It wasn’t till class ended that she ended up speaking to him, but even that was quick. She needed to get home and get ready.

Harry had gotten a quick hi, and a ‘see you tonight!’ With her hand brushing his arm before she skipped off to.. wherever she went. And that had him nearly sprinting home. Cleaning top to bottom, vacuum, scrub, vacuum again. Changed his sheets— why, he wasn’t sure— put his laundry in the basket, filled up Marie’s food and water, fluffed the pillows, cleaned the windows and coffee table... he did it all. Even cleaned out the fridge! Like she would care? Harry didn’t know. All he did know was that he was finally showered and smelled nice, hair fixed and the pumpkin patch candle was lit! The tv was on low because he was nervous and needed some filler noise to keep himself from overthinking.

Y/N was doing the same, not cleaning her apartment but cleaning herself. She stripped out of her clothes when she got home and immediately got into the shower, taking one of those full maintenance ones for good measure. Once she was positive she was squeaky clean and smelled nice, she jumped out to take the next steps. God, she really wanted to impress him. He’d been her crush for a while and she needed this. She wanted to look like she didn’t put in my effort when she did so she decided to put on some light makeup and chose an outfit that was more laid back. Usually, she was seen wearing sweaters and jeans, nothing too fancy, so that’s exactly what she settled on. Y/N wanted to look warm and inviting.

Milo mewed beneath her feet as she collected all her study supplies, rubbing against her ankles in need of attention. “I’m sorry bubs, I know I didn’t get to spend lots of time with you today but don’t be too mad.” Y/N pouted, picking him up and giving him a cuddle for a few minutes. She held him up to her chest as she finished up, deciding she needed to leave now.

‘Leaving now, be there in 20 ✨’

She sent, hopping into her car with nerves bubbling up in her stomach. God, she really hoped tonight went well.

——

When Harry heard the knock at the door he shot up, wiping his sweaty hands on his pants before forcing himself to be slow, walking to the door. And when he opened it, it really did feel like being hit in the gut. Seeing someone so beautiful, so up close? It got to him. He had to admit that. Y/N has this natural beauty that he drooled over. That felt like a hit. Every time he saw her he swore she got more beautiful.

“Hi.” He spoke with a smile, opening the door up for her. “Come inside. Marie is wandering around so I have to close the door. A little escape artist, she is.” He joked, letting her scurry in and close the door behind her.

“Hey! Oop— okay!” Y/N giggled and stepped past him into his apartment. It was very cute and very tidy. Y/N felt a little flutter in her belly, it was freshly cleaned. She stepped out of her shoes before further examining the decor. The style was something she very much expected for Harry, it was cozy and artsy. Lots of earth tones and that sweet autumn smell coming from the candle made her feel that much more excited. “It’s so nice in here! I love the pillows.” Y/N complimented, liking how some were fluffy and some had funky patterns on them. It was then that she heard a meow from below, Marie sniffing at her sock covered toes. “Oh hi there... sorry if you can smell Milo on me, gave me lots of snuggles before I left.” Y/N cooed down to the kitten, dropping down so she was closer to the ground and extended her hand for her to sniff and get used to.

Y/N realized this was very real now, especially because he had gone out of his way to make his place look nice. Most guys wouldn’t care, but maybe Harry did this for everyone. When she stood back up and turned to face him, she got a whiff of him and noticed his semi damp hair. He showered too. Oh—

Harry smiled at her and Marie, happy his kitten seemed to like her. Usually she would sniff his friends and run off but she began to weave over her legs and beg for pets. He was in awe. Christ. She had him by the balls already.

“Do you want anything to drink? I’ve got diet soda... apple juice, lots of teas. And water.” He hummed, going into the kitchen with her behind him. It was an open concept though, the kitchen the first thing near the door and it opened into a large living area, the hall down going to the master bedroom. It was simple but perfect for him in college. He gave her a moment to think it over as he looked at her. So cozy and... cuddly. He wanted to slide his hands under her sweater and feel her warm skin and nuzzle into the crook of her neck, let her fingers play through his hair.

“Apple juice sounds good.” Y/N smiled, having picked up Marie at this point to carry her into the kitchen with them. She had a feeling she’d get along just great with Milo if they ever got to meet. “You’re a sweet little thing, aren’t you?” Y/N cooed at the kitten, seeing her comfortably settled against her. “Does your Daddy spoil you with snuggles too?” She asked toying with her little paw before looking up at Harry with a smile. He had fumbled a bit with the lid of the juice at her words which made her giggle, “How are you? How was your day today?” Y/N was genuinely curious, deciding to make some small talk before actually sitting down. In her head she could already imagine the two of them hanging out here constantly, tangled up in one another, kissing and laughing and doing all the cute things that Harry likely wrote about in his stories.

“I’m— im good.” Harry’s mouth was dry. He knew that she hadn’t meant anything by it, but he heard her say ‘daddy’ in reference to him, and his stupid cock had jumped, tummy felt hot. Damn it. He wished he wasn’t so deprived but... she had been at the forefront of his mind. “It was a good day. I was happy to talk to you. You’re fun to talk to.” He meant it too. She was so interesting and funny and he was completely whipped and okay with it. Damn. He wished he had maybe a bit more restraint with his imagination but he didn’t. Not at all. “I have a harder time meeting people... i can be a little shy sometimes. I’m in my own head a lot you know? I have my core group of friends but... it’s hard to get to know people. I want to know them.” Her. That translates to her.

“Yeah?” Y/N felt her heart jump. He was happy to speak with her even just a little bit? He wanted to talk to her and get to know her? It wasn’t just a one sided thing. They were both making an effort in their own way and she was thinking someone had to break the tension. “I’m happy you think so.” Y/N blushed, “I um... I also like talking to you.” She had her little friend group as well but she never thought she’d actually end up being friends with Harry. Listening to him explain how reserved he was definitely made her feel special though. He chose to open up to her, she was special enough for that and that made her cheeks grow warm once again. “I’ll tell you just about anything you want to know.” Y/N smiled, hesitantly placing Marie down before taking a few steps closer to him to get her glass of apple juice.

“Ooooh, a little daunting. Anything? Your social security number?” Harry was joking. Trying to clear the air and make her relax because she was a bit shy too and he wanted her to be comfortable here. This place should be a good spot for her. He motioned for her to come sit on the couch with him, Marie trailing after Y/N. Little traitor had a new favorite already but... he couldn’t say he could blame her. “I dunno... it’s hard sometimes, in this age to make genuine friendships. Feels like everyone’s already got their friend groups and you don’t want to infringe upon them yeah? And... I write a lot. I’m not a partier. Not to sound cliche but again.... I’m a writer.” He chuckled.

“I said just about!” Y/N chuckled, shaking her head to herself at his joke. She felt like she was an open book, she was pretty open with the things she liked and generally she aimed to spread positivity and love where she could. Her hobbies included lots of things, music, knitting, reading, gardening. That kind of stuff. “But yeah, I get that... I’ve been pretty content with my group of friends, though I think most people are open to making new ones. At least I am... I am a bit shy though.” Y/N took a sip of her apple juice before setting it down on the coffee table again. “Yeah, you said. Romance novels.” She smiled and leaned back into the couch, getting comfortable. “What sorts of romance novels?” What? Could you blame her for wanting to know what sort of content was in them? Maybe it could give her some insight on what he wanted.

“Oooooh. Hard hitting stuff.” Harry huffed out playfully. “I’m... it’s a variety, I think. I’ve done supernatural, classic tropes, historical romance was very fun. I am partial to enemies to lovers or forbidden romances though. They’re the most fun to write.” Y/N genuinely looked like she cared so he continued. “I’ve been trying out different stuff but....” he blushed again. “I’m... looking at erotica right now.” It wasn’t something he usually would blurt out but hey, she seemed trustworthy. Plus she didn’t seem like she would judge either. It was a new favorite of his. The rawness of it and writing sex scenes... it was amazing. Reading it, writing it, he thought he could do some on the side and sell it under a pen name. It would be a fun thing to try.

Erotica. This man sat down and wrote detailed sex scenes, likely kinky, for fun? Thankfully she didn’t have any juice in her mouth because it surely would have been spat out.

“H-how are you finding it?” She asked, reaching for her apple juice because she felt like she couldn’t sit still now. How else was she supposed to go about things when all she could think about was sex. Sex with him specifically. Y/N wasn’t blind, she knew that Harry was very attractive and very much gifted with beautiful hands. She could only assume he would have a wonderful cock as well. She knew there was no way someone so quite couldn’t have the filthiest of minds, she knew hers was. Her fantasies were where she roamed free.

“I mean... I do like it a lot, actually. I hope that doesn’t come across as creepy or pervy but I like to be able to write something like that. It’s freeing, in a sense.” Harry couldn’t really properly describe why but, he was a kinky dude. You’d never think it. He was soft and wore sweaters a lot and drank tea at home from a kitty mug but he was.... a kinky fucker. And he loved sex. There was just something about it. He wanted to try more and more of it but he had a tendency to get attached to his partners, even hook ups... so he had put that on a hault.

“I’d like to read some...” Y/N felt like at some point, she’d want to read his writing. If he felt comfortable now she didn’t mind. It was just writing, wasn’t it?

“You want to?” She looked at him with bright eyes and her a fast nod so Harry decided to say, fuck it. If they were going to work as friends... or lovers, which is what Harry really wanted... she would need to accept this side. He grabbed his laptop and boosted it on, letting himself grab the latest completed scene. “Here. You can read this, i'll order the pizza.” There were obvious nerves in his belly from letting her read filthy smut from his computer but Y/N... she was different. He couldn’t put his finger on why, but she was.

They were meant to be studying.

That was long forgotten though as Y/N nodded and got comfortable on the couch with his laptop sat in her lap. It felt a bit taboo, but she figured she could separate the writer from the story.

The scene was from a male character’s perspective, describing him having a long and hard day at work where all he could think about was his partner. Y/N felt her face get progressively warmer as the character spoke about his partner, she couldn’t help but imagine this was how Harry was when he was horny and needy.

Y/N knew that if she was his, she would certainly brighten up his mood after a tough day at work. Seeing her own name in the document however proved that Harry thought the same. Her eyes nearly bulged out of her head, her eyes lifting from the screen to look up at him as he ordered the pizza completely unaware of her discovery.

This is what he imagined? This is what he wanted to do.... with her?

Harry ordered two cheese pizzas and some cinnamon dessert thing because there was a a special going on. He had thought about getting more but he didn’t want to go overboard with it, so he finished the order. Thank god for online ordering.

“Okay... it’ll be here in 25 minutes I think.” He hummed, looking up and freezing slightly. She looked blushy and her eyes wide as she read the post and he wondered why she looked a bit startled. “Hey... y’alright love?” He asked quietly. God damn it. Had he freaked her out too much? Was it just too much in general for the first time they properly hung out? He couldn’t remember exactly what scene he had pulled up. Just that it was recent, a billionaire type of thing.

Y/N casually moved the laptop on to the coffee table without answering his question. She didn’t think twice before she climbed on to his lap, hands settling on his shoulders. Sure, it was a risky move, but after what she’d read? She felt like she had to make her move. She wanted to be just as hot and sexy as he had imagined her to be. Harry’s shocked expression made her smile, hand going up to cup his cheek.

“You left my name in the document...” Y/N’s voice spoke low and slow, thumb brushing over his now parted lips. Never did she think she could be so bold so soon, but fuck did it feel good. She felt so powerful, so sexy, and so so horny. “Thought about me riding your cock so much you wrote about it?” Y/N whispered, leaning in to kiss the skin just below his ear before nibbling at the skin. “Noticed me before we properly met... thought about me... is this what you wanted, baby?”

Harry blanked.

Oh. fuck.

He hadn’t expected her to climb into his lap. Climbing on and straddling him, cupping his cheek, talking in that hot little voice that had his cock filling a bit. Holy fucking shit.

“Oh—” He was cut off by her thumb over her lip. She was into it, into him. How had this happened? He had to be dreaming. But... no. Her heat was too real to be a dream. Her eyes too clear and dark, her smell too real. It was real. “Y-yeah...” He whispered, gasping when she kissed his skin, hand grabbing her waist. Oh, hell. Under his pants, his cock was quickly hardening. You couldn’t blame him, his dream woman, his crush, was straddling his lap and kissing his neck. Talking like this.

“Thought about it ‘lots.” He muttered. She was so bold for this and that was something he found so sexy. When her teeth scraped his skin and bit down a bit harder, a dark groan left his mouth, hand on her waist tightening. “Holy shit... Y/N.”

“Hmm... feels good?” Y/N questioned, licking over the spot that she bit before moving to a new one. “Think I can make you cum in 25 minutes?” Y/N felt like she could take on the challenge, his cock was already hardening beneath her and she was a bit of foreplay away from being completely soaked. “Wanna try all of it, yeah?” Y/N muttered, nipping at the spot just where his jawline met his neck. “Riding your cock.... you bending me over, can choke me too. Please do...” She moaned at the thought, her hormones completely taking over. He still seemed to be frozen, despite his hand now on her waist so she moved her hips forward a little bit and tugged at his hair. “Wanna make you feel good.”

Y/N had a kink for giving but it seemed Harry did as well. She expected a needy hook up, rough touches, quickness, pure lust. It’s exactly what she needed. It’s been a while since she’d hooked up with anyone and she was desperate for Harry to break her dry spell.

“Ah, shit.” Harry hissed. The tug at his hair sent a shock of hot arousal down his spine. That got him going so quickly. She wanted to fuck? Right now? He would be a fool to say no, and he wasn’t raised a fool. “Yeah? Y’want to ride my cock?” He asked lowly. “Fucks sake... I didn’t know you were so dirty.” He never would have guessed it from her either but... they were here. And he was snapped out of his shock by the tug, and now he was ready to do whatever the fuck she let him. “What did y’want the most, love? Tell me.” He had taken into account that she wanted to be choked, raising a hand to gently cuff her throat, bringing her close to his face. The confidence was soaring now, and all because she was leaking it. She wanted it, desperately. “I said, tell me.” He gave a quick squeeze to her throat. “Want to know what you need.”

“Need your cock, daddy.” Y/N moaned out, eyes blown and glazed over with desire. Y/N could feel the tension in her bones, cunt throbbing and aching to be touched. “Need you so bad, please— wanted you for so long, please make me cum, please!” She pleaded, fully giving into the fantasy. Y/N was never one to hold back and from what she had read, he certainly didn’t want her to. Her body felt like it was on fire, hands grabbing fist fulls of his sweater in hopes that he’d just take it off. Y/N wasn’t sure what type of body would be beneath it, but she didn’t care. She just wanted to feel his warm skin, lick and kiss all that she could while she worked her magic. Y/N waited for his directions, falling into the submissive role easily despite her initial approach. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’re gonna have to re-write that scene.”

Harry was going to give this girl any fucking thing she wanted. He let her guide his sweater off, the cool air hitting his skin not even getting a chance because her hands and mouth were all over him. It was like she had fallen into a heat, and Harry.... he loved it. He placed his hands under her sweater, feeling her hands smooth over his chest as she kissed at his neck and over his jaw. Her skin was hot under the sweater, his hands gripping her waist and smoothing over her hips, going up and sip to her ribs where he realized— fuck.

“Not wearing a fucking bra?” He hissed. “Jesus... you’re a little minx, aren’t you? Off with this.” He spoke lowly, grabbing the ends of it but barely had a shot before Y/N ripped it off of her body. Fucks sake. She was sexier than he had ever imagined. “My god... you’re so sexy, baby.” He whispered, sitting up and burying his face between her breasts. Kissing the hot skin between them, working his way up with the wet, open mouthed kisses to her throat.

“Oh Daddy...” Y/N’s body shuddered at the feeling of his mouth on her, head falling back as she let out a happy sigh. He seemed to like her hand in his hair so she happily gripped at his locks as he scattered kisses over her skin. “Come ‘ere...” She whined, guiding him up to her lips. “Wanna taste your mouth.” Making eye contact with him in this moment felt intimate. All those quick glances in classes and at the coffee shop, all the day dreaming, it all built up to this moment where she fully felt she could let herself let go. The both of them wanted this, it was so reassuring, this was a safe space and they could do whatever they wanted. Y/N’s body rolled forward, pushing him further back onto the couch and angling her hips so she could tease the both of them before she let herself have it. Fuck was he hard... and full. Another moan left her lips, sounding more like a plea and cry for more.

“Fuck me... you’re needy. I love it.” Harry hissed, pulling her mouth to his. It wasn’t soft. No, this kiss... it was hot. Heavy. Her mouth opened and immediately he dragged his tongue inside, meeting hers. She tasted like the apple juice and a bit of mint, and he could groan just from how good it was. Sweet little Y/N wasn’t too innocent at all. “Fuck— keep teasing me like that. S’like you want to end up crying.” He had a feeling now that she did. She wanted his cock inside of her pussy, thrusting in and out and letting herself soak him. Yeah... he wanted it too. “Keep calling me daddy. You’re so dirty. Who would have fucking... known.” He spoke between the kisses, hands going for her jeans. He wanted them off, like hours ago. He was finally going to get her. “M’gonna lay you out in my bed after... first m’gonna fuck you, but M’gonna clean out your cunt with my tongue. And then M’gonna take you again. Yeah?” She has come for studying but was staying for hot sex and he hoped to turn it into a nice marathon. He had all weekend and he was hoping she wouldn’t have to go. He had too many idea for her. “Gonna let daddy lick it up?”

“Fuck— yes, gonna let daddy have his way with me...” She kept her hips rolling against his slowly, keeping the rhythm in check with the passionate kiss they were sharing. Y/N already knew this was going to be the best sex of her life, the kiss alone let her know that. His tongue would work wonders on her cunt and she’d be more than happy to return the favor. Hesitantly, Y/N began to stand to get her jeans off, one of her hands staying put on the back of his neck so the kiss didn’t break. She let him fiddle with the zipper, feeling his fingers hook both her jeans and underwear before yanking them down to which Y/N let out a little squeal.

Y/N knew she had to pull away from the kiss for air but she didn’t want to, waiting till the very last minute until she couldn’t anymore and went to get his jeans off.

“Come on. Be good.” He murmured against her lips, brushing his hips up so she could get his pants off. She tugged and easily they came down, Harry kicking them off as he pulled her back in his lap. His hands gripped her bare ass and groaned when she pushed into them, not thinking twice before pulling his hand back and smacking it the sound rang in the room and she let out the most sexy noise against his mouth, making him hiss. Fuck. He wanted her so fucking badly. This girl... she was everything. One hand went to feel and fuck. Fuck shit, motherfuck, it was wet. She was so, wet. “Jesus— you’re so wet. Baby— holy shit, you’re soaked.” He whispered. “S’cause of me? You wanted daddy’s cock this bad?” He pulled his fingers off slightly, the arousal still stringing to his fingers. He placed them at her mouth and pushed them in. “That’s it. Clean them up, sweet girl. You’re so filthy, y’know that? Precious little thing. So slick and hot, want cock so fucking bad don’t you?” He cooed, feeling her suck on the digits. “Now.... rub it against your pussy. Don’t put it in yet. get it wet.”

Y/N sucked at his fingers as if it were her job, making sure to treat it like she would his cock which included eye contact. She loved looking at him, seeing his hungry expression and his eyes that seemed to say so much more than he did. Even the feeling of her cunt sliding over his cock sent tingles up her spine. It had never affected her this much with other guys, but she assumed it was different with Harry because she had wanted him for so long. Y/N let out a whimper, feeling a gush of wetness accumulate when he pushed his fingers in farther. Harry was hot in ways she couldn’t explain, there were little things he did that just hit the spot and made her want to fuck him even harder. Y/N was practically bouncing on his cock, aching for him to let her have it inside.

“You’re such a good girl. Listening so fucking well.” Harry took his fingers from her mouth, smirking at the whine and slight chasing of his fingers when he placed it on her breast. She gave it all to him and honestly, he was ready to just... lose it. “Go ahead. Take what you want.” It was not even a moment later that he felt her begin to sink down. She was tight— so damn tight, and he choked slightly at just how good the squeeze was. He let out a hiss, head thrown back in the couch as the slick, hit cunt sucked over him, squeezing hard as she stretched open slowly. “Holy fuck.” He growled, gripping both hips now and looking at her with a darkness in his eyes. “You’re so bloody tight— Christ, you’re squeezin’ me so good.” He whispered.

“Daddy!” She whimpered as she slid farther down on his cock until she couldn’t fit anymore of him in. “I’m so full— feels so good.” Her eyes rolled back a bit as she began to bounce at a slowed rhythm. Small moans and little huffs came from her throat with every stroke of her hips, it wasn’t until she felt warmed up that she actually went for it. Y/N shifted so that she had better balance, keeping her hands on his shoulders before dropping back down on his cock. “Fuck!” She squeaked, making sure to clench one her way back up before repeating the action at a quicker pace. It felt incredible. He was touching every little part of her, feeling small waves of pleasure spread throughout her body. “Daddy! Fuck— feels so good ahhh!” Her moans were pornographic, whiny, desperate and needy. She didn’t even know she could sound like that, but apparently it was possible when she was as thirsty for cock as she was.

Never would he have guessed that this would be the outcome of their hang out. He had hoped, sure. Dreamed? Absolutely. But the reality was so much better. He had the hot, wet and extremely tight pussy gliding up and down his cock. She was moaning, tits bouncing in his face, and she was vocal. More than he could have asked for. The infatuation he had with her was only growing.

“Fuck, you’re a good girl. Such a perfect little cunt. Like bouncing on my cock, hm? Knew you’d be the perfect girl for me. Keep going.” His hand squeezed her ass, encouraging her to work herself on him. “Feels so full, yeah? Such a big cock filling such a little pussy. A nice stretch for you hm? So eager to be filled up...” her face was of pure bliss and Harry couldn’t help but take a mental photo. He hoped this could happen more than this once. “Knew you’d be good for me. Throwin’ yourself in my lap and begging to be fucked. Never guessed you’d be such a little slut, but I love it.” He took his hand, bringing it down sharply on her ass.

“Fuck!” Y/N gasped, her own hand moving to cuff his neck. It wasn’t as effective as him doing it to her, but it got the point across. The both of them grabbing at each other roughly, him thrusting up into her each time she slammed down. It could only be described as pure ecstasy, surely the hottest sex she had ever had. She needed him, she needed him to cum. Y/N couldn’t stop herself from leaning down to kiss his mouth again, making a mess of the two of them. “You’re so fucking good— love your cock, daddy... fucking love it!” She moaned between kisses, increasing her pace just enough so she could fuck him hard and steady. “I want you to cum for me daddy, wanna feel it nice and deep.” Thank fuck for IUDs. “Want you to fill me up while I cum all over your cock, can you do that for me? Can you cum with me?”

He was panting, lowering himself so he could properly thrust into her sopping cunt. He hadn’t gotten any in so long but this blew any and everyone out of the water. No one could ever understand how good this was. All the pining and imagining had come to an even better conclusion.

“I’ll do it... but you... gotta promise me.” He growled, giving a particularly sharp thrust inside of her, making her wail. “Promise me I can do it again. Let me have this pussy more.” He didn’t want it to end if it was the only time he could get it. It was too good to let go of. Drooling all over his cock and her soft whimpers and dirty words had him more worked up than anything else. “Promise, baby, and I’ll let you have my cum.”

“Promise— I promise— fuck!” She felt her breath get caught in her throat at the particularly hard thrusts Harry was giving her. “Please Daddy, please give it to me.” Y/N whimpered, moving her hands so they cupped his cheeks, keeping eye contact with him as they continued to relentlessly thrust into each other. There was nothing more satisfying, nothing that managed to hit every part of her both physically and spiritually and made her feel so alive. When you’ve wanted something for so long it makes getting it that much better and she knew that she’d always be chasing this high that only he could give her. “I’m so close, fuck, daddy—“ She mumbled between kisses, squeezing around him and continuing at her pace to bring herself to the perfect high. “Cum with me daddy, please— ah!”

Harry would work on his stamina next round. But after the whole thing, he was close to losing his mind. She was giving him the most tempting offer and he wasn’t going to give it up.

“Oh— fuck me.” He thrusted in again and again before he let himself go. Feeling her clench up around him and sob against his mouth, he let out a deep growl as he buried himself deep. Hot cum shooting inside of her cunt, rocking his hips in to get it all in there. There was no doubt that this was some of the most intense sex of his life but he was almost ready to go again, as soon as it ended. Holding her shivering form, her orgasm was tapering, he could feel her clenching still. “That’s it. Take all of it inside of you. Good girl.”

Y/N gripped Harry’s shoulders, loud screams of pleasure coming straight from her throat. There were no words to describe the high, she almost felt out of her own body as he showered her with praise. With her body shaking and face contorting with a silent scream, she found it in her to come back down letting out a pathetic whimper.

“Daddy—” She swallowed thickly, mouth finding his messily, pressing kisses to his lips and his face. The two of them were both lightly covered in sweat, breathing heavily and enjoying each other’s company. Y/N was far too blissed out to think about what just happened, but blissed out enough to know there would be many more rounds of this tonight. Y/N smiled as she nuzzled against his neck, still sponging kissing to his dampened skin. “Better?” She mumbled, smirking against his skin a bit.

“Mm.” He hummed, hands holding her hips still. Holy hell. This was the beginning of an amazing weekend- because he didn’t plan on letting her out at all, if he could help it’ he wanted her to stay, to let him indulge in her. “So fucking good.” He muttered lowly, rubbing his hand up her back and smoothing over her skin. Fucks sake. This was paradise. Nothing could pop him out of this.

At least, that was until the doorbell rang.

“Ah, fuck. The pizza.”

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

let us know what you think!

masterlist

#writing #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #Harry Styles #harry styles imagine #college!harry #harry writing #college!h

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feelingofcontent · 2 years

Text

DNP Rewatch: Internet Support Group 9

Date video was published: 03/16/2017 (X)

DNP Main Channel Rewatch: 337

Internet Support Group time! The last one had been back in August 2016, so sticking with his pattern of approximately every 6 months.

0:00 - the first curly-haired ISG! and this is the same white shirt as from the last one

0:14 - “distract myself from my internal free fall” I do think Dan was struggling a bit with what kind of content he wanted to make at this point

0:35 - no alcohol in this one! after the last one had the most out of all of them

0:48 - “out with crying for help with the relatable sad jokes” ...um. still not sure we’re there

1:03 - “let’s get wet” ...sure 😳

1:15 - ah yes. that theme. yikes.

1:52 - he really is starting off with some wholesome and encouraging messaging

2:14 - the annotation here is a funny (at least at this point before things got even scarier)

2:22 - wtf. Dan is just disappointed

2:32 - and now he is horrified. glad he chose to blur that picture 😱

2:55 - don’t think he’s every read a spam email in one of these for a joke before

3:21 - that is commitment for your sister

3:31 - Dan does talk pretty fast when he gets going on something. DNP have both always tried to have captions available, which is great

3:56 - I knew that “same” was coming

4:29 - that is an intense email.

4:46 - “parents are just people that had sex” ...I mean yeah

5:05 - “and actors” there is a personal one to Dan

5:25 - YOI reference and also a terrible pun

5:49 - yeah that would be highly embarrassing. also this is a great Dan face

6:05 - Dan commenting on how bad his own accent attempt was 😂

6:41 - little Winnie the Pooh reference and editing insert there

6:50 - oooo, I don’t know about this...even if the guy does have a crush, following is not okay. although the song thing is also a weird idea

7:17 - “an experienced boy like yourself”...“you can interpret that in a bunch of different ways, and frankly, all of them would be true” um...that was somehow vague and a lot of information at once

7:25 - dating for three years at age 14?!

8:08 - yeah this is just...a thing about being young

8:29 - “nooooo” to that greeting

8:35 - yikers. noooooooooo...

8:59 - Dan just making it worse somehow

9:13 - NO THANKS. very creepy

9:39 - I mean...yeah that’s bad. not sure about asking Dan for a name idea though

9:49 - I feel like he cut off a sentence after “deserve” there for some reason

10:00 - so as in “time to survive another” Day

10:27 - his hands literally take up that entire laptop keyboard

10:31 - sending that in morse code so it actually gets looked at...creative

10:53 - yep, Dan using “creative” in this situation too. and of course after this video he got a lot more...

11:11 - “this does reflect the world that we live in” yikes indeed

11:27 - so much rhyming, lol

11:47 - wtf did he say that he had to edit over?! (oh, he told someone on Twitter that he accidentally said “description”)

This ISG is just okay. I thought the last few were a bit funnier and had better questions and advice too.

#dan and phil #dnp #dnpRewatch #daniel howell #danisnotonfire #dan howell #daniel howell videos #Internet Support Group 9

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bearlytolerant · 3 years

Text

Fandom: Dragon Age

Pairing: Solavellan (Modern AU)

Ch Rating: T

Ch WC: 2169

AO3

Chapter 7

Another day at the office. Editing, emails and the ever elusive caller that enables equal opportunities for playing phone tag. A game Solas never enjoys participating in. The morning slides by and Varric is at his desk, twirling his keys around his finger.

“Lunch?”

Solas glances up and sighs. “I’m trying to get a hold of Seeker Pentaghast. Sera said she had more info on an agent that might have a lead on Crystal Red.”

“That sounds like a lot of maybes and probablys and a whole lot of I don’t give a fuck. You’re allowed to take a break and get some lunch.”

“What if they call while I’m away?”

“They can leave a message. Now let’s get out of here before we don’t have any time at all for food.”

Solas shoves back his chair and follows Varric. “I did pack a lunch today,” he mentions.

“Save it for tomorrow then. I’m craving some street tacos and there’s a truck just up the road. I’ll buy so you don’t have to worry about it.”

“I am less concerned about finances and more concerned about getting food from a truck.”

“Ah, live a little Chuckles,” Varric says as he gives Solas a whack on the back.

“If living a little, as you say, means spending two days on the toilet. Perhaps I do not wish to live a little.”

“Well come with me and grab something else. I’m sure there’s something you’d find worthy of your tastes nearby.”

A half hour later and Solas is holding a taco that’s worth the regret he’ll experience from his future self. Some chipotle mayo dribbles down his chin and he swipes it away while pulling out his phone.

He checks his messages. One from Sarya and one from Veda. He taps on the one from Veda first.

Connor went home sick. Pick me up after school today?

He checks the time and swears. How did he not realize he took such a late lunch? She needs to be picked up right now. He dials her number as he stuffs his arms into his coat.

“Veda needs to be picked up,” he tells Varric as he shoves the remainder of his taco in his mouth.

“Got you covered,” Varric replies.

He mumbles a garbled, “thanks” then takes off down the street. Solas is just a block away from his car in the parking garage when she picks up.

“Hey papae!”

“Hello. I apologize. I just now saw your text. I will be late.”

“No worries. I can always watch the band practice until you get here.”

“I will be there soon.”

“Okie doke.”

He says he loves her and hangs up. Sprints the rest of the way down the street, half choking and wishing he’d at least drank some water but makes his way to his little car without incident. He hops inside. Starts it and zooms out of the garage. He’s speeding which has him checking his rear view mirror constantly. But of course, the city has a million stop lights and he hits every red one. He gets to her school later than he ever intended.

He parks, shoving his glasses all the way up his nose, and searches for Veda at the stadium. He spots her in the bleachers, chin resting in her hands and her copper braids coming undone in the breeze. He takes the stairs to meet her two at a time.

“I am so sorry to make you wait,” he says as he wraps her in his arms.

“Seriously, papae. It’s not a problem at all.”

“But what if it had rained? Or stormed like yesterday?”

“I would’ve just stayed inside. Besides, that didn’t happen.”

He sighs, berating himself a little internally. Then he walks with her back to the car. Slides in and clicks his seatbelt in place.

“What’s this?” Veda asks.

Solas glances over at her. She has Sarya’s camera in her hands. He hadn’t even noticed it there. He calmly says, “a camera.”

“Pssh, obviously. But I don’t remember you having a camera.”

“It’s a friend’s,” he says. “We went out for lunch and they must’ve left it.”

“Oh,” she says. “How was work today?” She’s still fiddling with the camera.

“It was work,” he says. Thankfully she easily dropped the subject. “Not much was accomplished.”

She gasps. “Your friend is so pretty. You’ve never mentioned her before. New coworker?”

“No. Just a new friend I met.”

“She looks familiar—and she’s a wonderful photographer. Maybe we should have her take some pictures of us. We haven’t updated our family photos since I was ten.”

“That’s a wonderful idea Veda. However, my friend is only visiting for a short while. I’m not sure there would be enough time to squeeze some family photos in.”

“Bummer. You look so happy around her.”

“I don’t always look happy?”

“You look a different kind of happy with her. It’s nice.”

He takes her words and holds them close to her chest. “Anything interesting happen at school today?”

“Yeah,” she says, then she unloads a multitude of stories. How one of her friends got their tooth knocked out by a basketball in gym. How she accidentally used Elvhen in her Tevene class and didn’t notice until the whole class was just staring at her.

“Did you feel embarrassed?” he asks as they pull into the garage.

“A little. But I mostly found it funny. The way the other kids looked so confused.”

“Does anyone treat you differently when you speak Elvhen?”

She shrugs. “There’s a couple of kids who say stupid things but I don’t hang around them.”

“Veda, I’m happy to speak with the administration if your having trouble with other students—“

“While I appreciate that, I can handle a couple of kids who are jerks.”

“Very well but if you ever—“

“I know.” She slings her backpack in her back then kisses his cheek. “Can I go to Varric’s house? I want to see the cats and hang out with Cole for a bit.”

“Yes, so long as you check with—“

“Already did.” She steps out of the car. “Going to drop my stuff off inside then I’ll see you later.”

“Text me when you want to leave. I’ll pick you up.”

“Okay. See you later, papae.”

Solas sighs. He’s glad she still talks to him and he still gets to see her but there’s also this tiny ache in his chest that misses her always being around the house. But he reminds himself that this is a good thing. It’s just new and he pulls out his phone to read his messages from Sarya.

Hey I’m going to try and stop by your work around 3:15 today.

I stopped by your work but you weren’t there. Saw Varric though! He introduced me to everyone and it was fun! I really like Sera. She’s hilarious! And Merrill was so sweet! Anyway, hopefully I’ll see you sometime soon. 😉

—

“I fold,” Sarya says, she takes a drag from her cigarillo. Then throws her cards face up on the table.

“Already?” Han asks. “What a shame.”

“Your mind must be elsewhere, Sarya. I’ve never known you to throw a game,” Vilanti says as she shows her cards.

Han takes the game and lets out a whoop as he gathers them all to shuffle.

“I still can’t believe Dallen just up and left us. Did he say anything to either of you? About his plans.”

Both of them shake their heads.

“It’s really odd.”

“I don’t know why you care. Easier to keep yourself from using him. Easier for him to be happy this way,” Han says.

“Ouch,” Vilanti grimaces, then gestures for all the cards to be handed over. She shuffles.

“I do agree with that actually. It’s just that most who move on from our happy little family tend to give us more of a notice. We didn’t get to give him a proper goodbye.”

“I don’t mean to sound callous here Sarya, but you were the only one who cared about the guy. Makes sense why he moved on.” Vilanti deals.

Sarya picks up her hand and stares straight through the cards. “That’s not true.”

“Basically,” Han argues. He draws a card.

“Sometimes you both are mean.”

“Not mean. Just honest,” Han says.

Vilanti draws. “On another note, I heard Makon made a new friend today.”

“What?” Sarya nearly drops her cards. “Our Makon? Makon—stoic, quiet, unsociable Makon?”

“Yep. Met her at the gas station. She was passing through on her way to Wycome and her motorcycle broke down. He fixed it up for her on the spot and they exchanged numbers I guess.”

“What the fuck?”

“Good for him,” Han says.

Sarya draws a card. “Yeah, seriously. I hope that works out.”

“Our next gig is in Wycome and he plans to see her then.”

“Was it love at first sight or something?” Sarya asks. She folds and picks her cigarillo back up. Her interest in cards declining by the second.

Vilanti shrugs and plays her cards, taking the game. “By the way he keeps talking about her, I’d say yes.”

“What’s her name,” Han asks, gathering all the cards into a pile.

“Athi. Athi Lavellan.”

“Another Lavellan huh?”

“Guess so. Maybe she’s related to you two,” Vilanti says.

“Doubt it. Or if she is, it’s very distant,” Han says.

In the distance they hear yelling and smashing bottles. They all exchange looks.

“Wonder who the hell set Deshanna off—“

“Let’s go see if we can smooth things over,” Han says with a sigh.

“You two can go. I’ll probably make things worse. I don’t think he likes me much.”

“That’s because you push his buttons. Definitely better for you to stay here,” Han tells her.

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Then she waves at them as they slip out the door and finishes off her cigarillo.

—

It’s dark and quiet and Sarya gazes longingly out the window at a small patch of stars. The only patch not hidden by the clouds. She sighs and startles at the sound of knocking. Straightening herself out, she rubs the redness from her elbows and opens the door.

“Solas,” she says it like she’s expecting him but she’s truly surprised. She steps out with him, shutting the door behind her.

“You forgot your camera,” he tells her, holding it out in his hands.

She takes it from him, hanging it around her neck. “Thank you. I should really start keeping better track of my things or you’re going to start thinking I’m trying to bait you or something.”

“I would bite every time,” he says, his hands clasped behind his back. There’s a certain sparkle in his eye and she can’t read him. But she knows she wants to kiss him. So without another thought, she stretches up on her toes and takes him by surprise. He is frigid and she panics, certain she has misstepped. After all, friends don’t kiss like that.

“I’m sorry,” she says, a little out of breath. “I don’t know what…”

Her words are caught on the edge of his lips as he captures her mouth again. His kiss is unreserved but not what she’d call passionate. Like the kiss of a long time lover. A kiss of promise. Of commitment. Her mind screams at her to let go while simultaneously wishing and longing for more. His leg is pressed into her inner thigh and despite the chill of the air, she’s certain she is on fire. Her nails are in his shoulder, the camera even hurts just a little as it presses into her chest, and she doesn’t mean to let out a moan but it’s too late for regrets as he pushes her against the side of her trailer. One hand above her and the other in her hair. With each breath she steals between kisses, she studies his face. Memorizes it and stores it for always. Freckles for days and the tiniest scar above his brow. The only sign of his age lies in the lines of crows feet near the edges of his eyes and she tells herself to ask if he has a skincare routine. He certainly seems the type.

She studies his closed eyelids, there’s two freckles on the right and a singular small one on the left and she notices that there’s even some red in his brows and wonders if they’d have red headed babies.

She gasps then. Pulls away. Why in the hell is she thinking of babies?

“Perhaps I should…”

“Kiss me again,” she says to him. She won’t let one ridiculous thought ruin the moment. She knows that she’s falling for him. Too fast, too soon but she’s holding on for another day.

When they break apart she doesn’t want him to go. But it’s too much to ask him to stay. So she waves goodbye then clicks her camera, saving the image of him walking away.

#dragon age #solavellan #modern au #solas x Sarya Lavellan #circus au #free falling #bear writes

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officerjennie · 3 years

Note

23 with all the Witcher characters you'll write

Anon.

-squishes your face-

Anon I love you. I wish you nothing but the absolute best life anyone could ever imagine, because you have given me such a gift.

Characters included here: Jaskier, Aiden, Lambert, Geralt, Eskel, Vesemir (let’s be real, he’s just there for the snacks. Catch him filling his pockets with nuts and pastries to horde in his office). Prompt: orgy

(edit most of the way through writing this: HOW THE FUCK DID I WRITE SOMETHING FOR THE PROMPT ORGY AND INCLUDE NO SEX, I JUST-)

Despite popular believe, Jaskier had the best ideas.

The entirety of his previous afternoon had been spent with preparations for the event. It had only taken a little bit of bribing to convince Vesemir that this wasn’t going to end horrifically or with some destruction or another, and really only another bottle of (very expensive) wine as the cherry on top to be given permission to use the mess hall in Kaer Morhen as the location. Though honestly, there wasn’t anywhere else that would have suited the party - so Jaskier was very glad no more bribing was in order there.

If he was honest, convincing everyone to take part in it was the easy part. One really didn’t know the definition of ‘sexually repressed’ until one met a horny witcher who was trying to deny himself the lusts of the skin and Jaskier could count on his first three fingers some witchers that suited that bill to the T.

The fact that he knew exactly five made that rather sad, but he digressed.

With some rather flirtatious invitations, Jaskier had secured participation, but that was only phase one of his plans. After that was making it an actual party, an event, because there was no way in all of the fresh hells that he would let this be even close to mediocre.

So, the table settings began.

At the end of the evening he found himself spinning in glee, hands clapped in front of his face, fingers touching his lips as he admired his handiwork. All done by himself - the boys could all thank him later for his hard work, since he’d wanted it to all be a surprise for the lot of them, and he had honestly outdone himself.

He hoped no one asked how he got the flowers during this time of year. Some secrets were better left untouched.

It was close to dark, the outside colors bringing in brilliant oranges and purples, when Jaskier set off to round everyone up. Geralt was the first person he found - a given, really. He’d spent enough time traveling around with him that he knew exactly where he’d be, the exact position he’d be in on his bed as he sharpened his sword (because his daggers would have been the first he sharpened, and it was too late in the evening for him to be starting on the task), no doubt trying to pretend like he wasn’t looking forward to anything or affected by the thought of such an event.

His rather tight pants gave him away, though. With a very firm kiss to his delicious lips and a swipe of his eager tongue, Jaskier let Geralt know it was ready. He tugged him up off the bed and patted his arse and sent him on his way, determined to find everyone else before he went down himself and got far too distracted.

The grumbling he heard from his witcher just made him smile more.

It took a little longer to locate Eskel, but Jaskier had figured it easier to find him than the others. Surprisingly he hadn’t been out visiting Lil’ Bleater, the little lady having already been put up snug in her bed, bleating out so cutely when she saw Jaskier that he had to spent a few minutes giving her some love before he went on his way. As he did, he couldn’t help but think about how witchers just...really did love to imprint on animals. Geralt with his precious Roach, Eskel with his classy lady. He wondered what sort of animal Vesemir might relate to, or Lambert?

Wait, no, he didn’t want to know that second one. He blinked in horror and set that thought firmly to a forgotten corner of his mind to grow dust.

Instead of finding Eskel with his adorable little lady, Jaskier ended up running into him in the kitchen. It had been the smell of some wondrous pastries that had clued him in, drawing him in like the hungry sweets demon he was, his fingers already itching to snatch some up and run away with his booty.

Not that he really needed to steal one. It was just more fun that way.

Sure enough, his nose had not lied to him. Eskel was pulling out some of his own handmade and famously delicious apple pastries out of the oven just as Jaskier peeked his head in, and his mouth watered just at the sight. Also, dare he say it, but Eskel was very cute with flour dusted on his spikey, scary shirt.

“Are those for little ol’ me?”

Eskel didn’t startle at his voice but Jaskier didn’t expect him to, used to the terrifyingly good hearing that came with all of the other witcher mutations. “You did say snacks, right? Figured these might do.”

“Oh! Oh, Eskel,” Jaskier felt his eyes tearing up, skipping into the kitchen and just stopping himself from flinging his arms around his now officially second favorite witcher. He skidded to a stop right in front of him, wringing his hands with emotion to keep from burning himself or Eskel (or accidentally impaling himself on said scary spikey shirt). “You really didn’t have to, I had the snacks all set up and planned out, but I’m ever so touched you did! Oh, these will make the perfect addition.”

“They have to cool first, Jask.” Eskel had a very knowing twinkle in his eye as he stepped around the bard, going to place the flat pan on a rack he had set up on the table. “I’ll bring them down when they’re ready, then you can have one.”

Jaskier pouted, eyeing the pastries and wondering if it was worth burning both his fingers and his tongue on them. Which, yes, it was, but he’d rather not disappoint the pastry chef. So he deflated with a deep sigh, content in knowing that he’d get some later - and that Eskel very much did not forget about his plans.

Vesemir was next on his list, and it only took one single stop by his office to remind him. All Jaskier had to do was knock on his door and wait patiently for Vesemir to say he could come in, then he poked his head in to see if he’d be joining them.

“I’ll be there.”

That’s all the answer Jaskier got, and he considered it good enough. With him checked off the list, there was only two left, and they would thankfully be easy to locate this evening. They weren’t usually - well, Lambert by himself was. But any time Aiden was joining them for the winter Lambert was made scarce, always off doing something with his dear friend, and that something was usually mischief.

Aiden was a wonderful and a horrid influence on Lambert, and everyone adored him for it. Most of the time.

Luckily, Jaskier already knew where they were. He’d heard their training all the way in the keep and made his way to the training grounds, stopping by Geralt’s room to steal one of his coats on his way, not willing to face the cold with his own considering Geralt’s were much warmer (even if much less fashionable - had the man never heard of color?).

As it happened, they’d just recently stopped their training session - luck considering how long they’d go some evenings. Both of them had abandoned their shirts at some point, maybe even right at the start of their training, though Jaskier wasn’t sure how either of them could stand it when the snow in some places came up to his shins.

Stupid sexy witchers. It was entirely unfair. Both the cold resistant part and the sexy part.

“Hey, little songbird.” Aiden stretched his arm back and rested it against his shoulder, dangling his sword behind him and watching as Jaskier’s eyes followed the movement. “S’time already?”

With his mouth suddenly quite dry, and what with his feet suddenly not knowing how to walk in snow, Jaskier had to stumble out some sort of an answer. Not that he could really hear it, he was paying too much attention to how Aiden flexed his arm just so - damn stupid sexy witchers.

Lambert laughed at him without a single ounce of pity, and if Jaskier’s brain wasn’t currently melting he would have pointed out that the same damn tricks worked on him if Aiden wanted them to. At least Aiden took some pity on him after that, heading back to the keep and shooting him a wicked grin as he brushed past him.

Even with all the snow, it was suddenly a bit too warm for the coat he’d nabbed.

But that - that was everyone. Jaskier shook himself, a wide grin blooming on his face, the cold air biting at his cheeks and nose. Everyone was headed to the mess hall, the snack tables and punch were all ready. Eskel had been kind enough to make some of his apple pastries which would be a big hit. And! Jaskier had procured enough lubricant that they wouldn’t all be regretting it come the morning.

He rubbed his hands together as he turned around, hurrying back to get to the mess hall himself. This, without a single doubt, was his best idea yet - and hands down a night that he would always remember.

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ryqoshay · 3 years

Text

OTP Ask Meme (Impatient Edition) NicoMaki

Yeah, I know the point of these things is to wait for followers to Ask questions from the list, but reading though this one got me thinking too much. And, as the title implies, I got impatient and wanted to answer them all. Right away.

Anyway, credit to @lonelypond for this version coming across my dash. Reblog that version if you want to do this thing correctly.

Also, just because I’ve already answered these here, I’ve expanded on some for various reasons and left others short if I believe the reasons are obvious. So if you still want to do the whole interactive thing, you can still ask for clarification or whatever.

And finally, there will be spoilers ahead for How to Handle a Nico, both scenes I’ve written and posted, as well as some that remain in my Notes and WIP Warehouse. I’ll try to remember to link to the chapters mentioned.

1. Who wakes up first?

Nico, so she can make breakfast for her Maki.

2. Who wants to stay in bed just a little longer?

Maki. Usually because she studies or works later and/or longer hours. She is also not above pulling Nico back into bed when she comes to wake her.

3. Who takes longer getting ready?

Usually Nico.

4. When they can’t sleep, what do they do?

Maki’s libido can pretty much always be counted on to at least exhaust Nico, if not both of them.

5. Who falls asleep while watching a movie?

Depends on who had a rough day or week at work/school, though Maki may get bored and either watch Nico or fall asleep during overly sappy romance movies.

6. Who falls asleep last, watching the other with a small affectionate smile?

Either, depending on the stresses of the prior day.

7. Who comes up with the cheesy pick-up lines?

Nico intentionally. Maki unintentionally.

8. Who gets extremely competitive playing Mario Kart?

They both are, though in different ways. This is depicted in Consolation Prize.

9. Who accidentally pushes a door instead of pulling?

Maki, especially if she is in an unfamiliar place.

10. Who sets the other’s ringtone to something loud and obnoxious behind their back?

Both, though Maki only in retaliation for whatever teasing Nico may have done.

11. Who rearranges the bookshelf/DVD shelf in alphabetical order?

Nico likes a proper presentation of her idol merch. Maki is too busy with other stuff to care about special organization.

12. Who does the hands-over-the-eyes “Guess Who” thing?

Nico.

13. Who points out a dog when they see one?

Either.

14. Who’s prone to road rage?

Maki, especially when she is trying to get to the hospital when called in at some odd hour, or trying to get home after a stressful day.

15. Who’s prone to wearing socks indoor (or to sleep)?

Nico gets cold easier. Warm socks help.

16. Who reminds the other to put on sunscreen before going to the beach (or pool)?

Nico, partly out of habit from doing it with her siblings and partly as an excuse to offer to help Maki put it on. Depicted in Sunscreen.

17. Who carries all the important documents while traveling?

Nico.

18. Who gets the window seat?

Nico. Maki traveled enough with her parents and is happy to let her girlfriend see the sights instead.

19. Who puts their cold hands/feet on the other?

Nico intentionally. Maki unintentionally, usually.

20. What do they argue about the most?

I don’t believe anyone has been brave enough to track the data for this.

21. Who’s clumsier?

Maki, especially in the kitchen. Nico has her moments though.

22. Who texts more often?

Nico. With heavy emoji use. (I need to depict this more in HtHaN somehow)

23. Who is better with kids?

Nico. She was the primary caregiver for her siblings for many years after all.

24. Who’s the better cook?

Nico. See above.

25. Who mistakes salt for sugar?

Maki. Even after Nico labeled the containers.

26. Who puts the fork in the microwave?

Maki.

27. Who cooks at 2 in the morning?

Nico. Maki isn’t allowed to cook without Nico’s supervision. However, this would be a rare occasion as Nico typically will prepare something ahead of when Maki is arriving home this late and leave it for her to reheat.

28. Who lets the microwave play the loud beeping sound at 1 a.m.?

Maki, when she’s reheating whatever Nico made for her after arriving home late.

29. Who licks the spoon when they’re baking brownies?

Both.

30. Who likes doing the dishes?

Nico, though it would be more appropriate to say she doesn’t dislike it.

31. Who has bigger cravings? What are they?

Nico loves her sweets. Maki loves her Nico.

32. Who remembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant?

Nico is highly attentive to Maki’s preferences in food. Knowing what Maki likes in restaurants lets her know what she can make at home. And food is definitely one of the best ways to Maki’s heart.

33. How do they eat ice cream? What’s their favorite flavors?

Nico likes sundaes with lots of sugary toppings. She also likes trying new flavors and will often get multiple scoops of different flavors. Maki is fine with a single scoop cone.

34. Do they go on dates? What are they like?

As often as their schedules allow. Maki likes quite dates like walks in a park or museum or sitting up on a hillside for stargazing. Nico likes shopping for outfits and idol merch, going to movies and bustling amusement parks. But both love watching the other enjoy their hobbies so they’re willing to go along with the other’s interests as well.

35. What do they smell when they smell Amortentia?

Nico smells her father’s aftershave, strawberries, and stewing tomatoes. Maki smells Nico’s special tomato curry, Nico’s shampoo, and the cinnamon sugar of the snickerdoodle cookies the Nishikino baker made for her to leave out for Santa.

Yes, two of Maki’s are directly related to Nico. What can I say? She’s addicted.

36. Which one is the secret snuggler?

Maki. The more tired or drunk she is, the clingier she gets.

37. Which one offers their jacket to the other when they complain they feel cold?

Maki. Nico gets cold easier, so Maki is usually the one to offer her jacket.

38. Who reaches for the other one’s hand while driving?

Yes.

39. Who leaves little notes in the other one’s lunch?

Nico, because she is the only one who makes lunch for them both; Maki isn’t the type to do such a thing even if she were allowed to cook more. (Bonus: What does it say?) Usually the messages are simple affirmations of love, but she is not above getting snarky if the two had an argument recently.

40. Who is the most affectionate?

Nico in public. Maki in private.

41. Who is the big spoon/little spoon?

Usually, Maki is the big spoon as she is quite fond of hugging her Nico like a teddy bear, though Nico will sometimes jetpack.

42. What is their favorite feature of their partner?

Maki loves Nico’s smile, particularly her genuine, unforced, non-idol persona smile. Nico loves Maki’s voice, specifically her singing voice.

43. What is the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other?

Nico starts teasing Maki more, no longer to “put the spoiled rich girl in her place” but rather to see more of the adorable reactions. Maki actively tries to deny her feelings, even to, or perhaps especially to herself, falling back on established habits of insisting that she doesn’t have time to date, all the while quietly continuing to seek more time with Nico.

44. What are their nicknames for each other?

Both exclusively use -chan with the other.

45. Who worries the most? Over what?

Early on, both are worried about losing the other for different reasons. Nico is afraid that should a scandal occur that ruins her idol career, Maki may blame herself and leave. Maki fears that a busy schedule of studying in medical school followed by long hours at the hospital may turn away someone like Nico, whose attention seeking seems infinite. Later, as they settle into their relationship, their concerns turn to more stereotypical adult fears; traffic or transit accidents, sever illnesses, etc.

46. Who initiates kisses?

Nico in public. Maki in private.

47. Who says I love you first? How did it happen?

Nico, by accident, as depicted in Spoken.

48. Who tells their friends/family about their relationship first?

Technically Maki in both cases, though with their friends, Nico was active in the chatroom, and with their mothers, Maki only beat Nico by maybe half an hour or so. These instances are depicted in Reconstructed Reunion and Telling Mama.

49. What do they do when they’re away from each other?

Both have busy schedules, even as early as the years immediately following high school, so spending time away from each other is quite commonplace. This still did not stop Maki from going through a bout of depression during Nico’s first tour as a professional idol, as depicted in Homesick and Homecoming. From then on, Maki starts a tradition of visiting Nico during longer tours so as to break up their time away a bit.

50. Who gets overwhelmed by small acts of kindness?

Nico, as the more romantic of the two. This isn’t to say Maki doesn’t value sentiment, she just has other ways of expressing it than being overwhelmed.

#NicoMaki #How to Handle a Nico

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primerealestate · 4 years

Photo

“Retro-Active Reality.”

The application was delightfully enigmatic and mysterious. You weren’t worried about viruses, spyware, or anything like that. You knew and trusted the creator, he was a highschool friend of yours, a weirdo loner for sure, into occult stuff, but not a bad guy.

The Retro-Active Reality App wanted you to upload a “source image” and a “modified image”. The GUI was incredibly minimalistic, no colours or images, just those two widgets asking for an image upload. It was fascinating, like a little puzzle. The README your friend had posted alongside the file was steeped in dense lingo and undecipherable. “image-based differentiation elicits causal re-reification into an alternate chronology” Whelp, the only way to find out the function of the app was to try it. It was begging for an experiment.

“A source image and a modified image...” you mumbled to yourself. You happened to have a photoshopped image on your computer. You felt a pang of sadness looking at it. Your stepsister had never been happy with her body. Rather than a late-bloomer she wasn’t a bloomer at all, stuck at a height just below five feet. She was often mistaken for a child.

She really hated it, to the point that it was a psychiatric condition. She had asked you to shop an image of her in underwear and heels to show what she’d look like if she were six feet. The height she was “supposed to be”. You were good with photoshop so you indulged her, but she had become obsessed with the image. It was body dismorphia, her short body caused her agony, the altered picture embodied a perfect reality in which she was happy with herself. It got so bad that she had to drop out of college and enter a clinical health program full-time.

You almost didn’t use the images. They were of a highly personal nature. But your curiosity got the better of you and you uploaded them, both the original and the modified version. Just as the upload completed you felt a sharp static go through you, a short jolt akin to the tingle in a sleeping foot permeated you and all the world around you. “Fuck!” You fell out of your chair. “What the hell was that?”

The application return to its previous state, as if you hadn’t uploaded anything. You considered re-trying, but the original unmodified version of the image had disappeared from your computer somehow. You had just about given up discovering the nature of the program by yourself and were about to message your friend, when you suddenly heard a set of keys unlock your front door.

You were suppose to live alone. A little campus apartment to be close to the lecture halls of the college, the place was small and cheap enough not to need roommates. Yet somebody had just entered through your front door. You grabbed a heavy object and went to check it out.

The person you saw there you recognized by face, though not by body. “Hey bro.” She casually mumbled as she removed her coat and closed the door behind her.

She resembled your stepsister. But instead of tiny she was a tall slender beauty, exactly like the photoshopped image. She was wearing tight jeans and a V-neck, exactly like all pretty girls did nowadays to flaunt their bodies.

“Sis. You’re.. tall!” You stammered.

“Hell. I wish.” She sighed as she walked past you. “I stopped growing after six feet. I kinda wish I was taller, you know? Taller than you.” She plopped down on the bed next to your computer.

“You’re coming to visit?” You tried to make conversation as you looked at her body up and down. Even without being blood related, it was awkward being this attracted to someone legally your sibling.

“Huh? I’m staying here, aren’t I?” She chatted distractingly while staring at her phone. “Since it’s close to class.”

“...Right.” Your mind was racing. The app had given your stepsister the body she’d always dreamt of, but to her it was like she had always had it. History had been re-written so that she’d never had dismorphia and didn’t have to drop out of college. A major drama had suddenly, retro-actively, been removed from your family as if by magic. You just couldn’t grasp the reality of the situation, it was too dream-like. You had to try the app again.

“When you say wish you were taller...” you begin, “how tall is that? Can you show me?”

You opened the modified, now original, image in photoshop.

“You still have that?” She laughed, a bit flustered. “I just had you take it to make my friends jelous.”

“Give me some idea on what your ideal body would be.” You murmured. You were getting self-conscious about looking at an image of your sister in underwear alongside said sister.

“If my head could just... hit the door post.” She pondered. “But make it leg height, don’t just stretch my torso... Yeah.”

You were busy with the edits for some time, but eventually you created a realistic rendition of your stepsister as a seven foot tall amazon with enormous rockers. You opened the application and looked at her, she had pre-occupied herself with something else now. She was staring at her phone while laying on the bed.

You wondered if you should really alter her body without her consent. But then you decided that consent doesn’t matter if you’re doing a good thing, and you hit upload.

Again a shock went through all of reality. When you recovered you saw that her entire outfit had changed. Instead of the currently trendy fashion she was wearing a tube top and daisy duke, her bodyhair shaved everywhere. Once again you had changed history, and once again you had altered her personality and tastes. It seemed like she was a lot more eager to show off her figure now that she had so much of it. Not too mention how she would have composed a whole different wardrobe with different measurements.

She stretched herself on your bed, putting her feet and arms against either wall. “Step-bro...” She flicked her red hair and looked you straight in the eyes. “I’m hot.” Her voice sounded purring and seductive.

“That... you are.” You couldn’t muster up any intelligent response.

“Take of my clothes for me?” She purred.

“I...” Nothing about this was sane or appropiate.

“Remember when your dad and my mom would leave, we would play these games?” A lustful grin crept over her face as she grabbed your hand and pulled you onto her on the bed. “I want to play more of those games with you...”

You didn’t remember any of these games. Perhaps there was a version of you somewhere that did, that was now dead or had switched places with you. These complicated thoughts poofed out of your head as you felt her body. She was everything a man could ever hope for, an absolute expression of pure feminine sex appeal. Mindlessly you began to take off her tube top for her.

Underneath was her bra... her bra. The same one she had had in the picture. You noticed how the pattern was stretched and blurry. It looked like a misprint, a factory mistake. Somewhere, somehow, a factory had accidentally made a blurry bra. All because of your image upload.

“Bro... pull it all the way, I can’t see.” Your stepsister insisted.

“Just a moment.” You said. “I have to make a phone call.

---

“That app!” You almost screamed over the phone.

“Did you try it out?” Your friend asked.

“Try it out? I have a titty monster in my bedroom.”

“Nice.”

“How the hell does it work?”

“Didn’t you read the README?”

“Yeah. Not much help that was.”

“Basically, it makes the altered image the original image, and forces reality to adjust. Reality takes the path of least resistance, you know, so the smallest possible changes occur that it can get away with. If your edit is too outlandish it will invent a technical error or an instagram filter to explain it.”

“But... what... this is all impossible. It’s magic!”

“Yes. Wait... You didn’t believe my magic was real?” Your friend sounded disappointed.

You breathed deeply in and out. “Do you know the implications? This is a god-like power. In an app! You can do anyting you want.”

“IF you’re a good photoshopper.” He said. “Imagine if you try to make something impossible into reality.”

You gulped.

“So I’m leaving it to you. Keep practicing on titty monsters. We’ll get to the god-stuff later.”

You mulled it over. “Okay... just.. celebrity morphs and stuff.”

“Sure.”

“Okay. Speak to you later, I’m gonna have sex with my stepsister.”

“Wait wh-”

#reality_change stepsister growth height_increase breast_expansion

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obsessivelycapricious · 3 years

Note

I like your idea of her trying with dick again Bc he is to sweet, and her an Alfred reconnect, but I find authors like to talk about there story’s. So if you want to say anything I’m down to listen

Hey, sorry it took me a while to reply - work has been busy!

Right! I really like Dick and Tim and I want Y/N to be able to interact with them in a positive way. After a lil bit of angst though first. I'm also thinking she is going to get on well with Ivy and even Harley maybe eventually.

I'd love to talk about it to be honest. I get a lil bit self conscious about rambling though. So if you still want to hear more after this - let me know!

I'll hide my Birds of a Feather Stuck Together rambles under the cut so there's no accidental spoilers or annoyance at the super long post. ^^

So at the minute, I'm trying to decide what to do for part 7 - the next chapter. (part 6 is out on Friday, I just need to edit it and it'll be ready.)

I'm thinking that for stylistic reasons, I'm only going to write the scenes where Jason and Y/N are together. Everything that happens when they are alone or with other character is only alluded to. At least in the first act.

But then again, I've got plans for some scenes much later where it's Y/N and the Joker, so that will ruin the exclusivity of it. So I dunno. Maybe it'll be Y/N and Jason scenes mostly with a few Y/N and Joker scenes to show off their complicated and twisted relationship.

It'll work out either way. I like working within some constraints like that, it keeps it interesting.

My traitorous brain also decided to remind me that if Y/N was a Robin, then in legal terms, her and Jason are adopted siblings -Unless I make it so that Bruce never actually adopted her, which doesn't feel like it fits. It weirded me out trying to decide what was better, so I might just decide not to address it either way and just not think about it too hard. It's not like they're actually related and it's a work of fiction so we can suspend our disbelief a little.

The idea I've been thinking about today while bored at work was that Joker liked making videos of Jason in the Arkhamverse and in Dark knight he made a few videos too - so I'm thinking of taking that idea forward and having it so in the three years before we see Y/N there's little videos documenting her basically slowly being broken in various horrific ways.

Ive got two ideas as to how to include it in the fic:

The first being that Joker shows Jason at some point and it helps him realise that she did fight Joker - just got to a point where she couldn't anymore. He'd have a bit more respect for her but at the same time it would terrify him because if that's what she's been reduced to what the hell is Joker going to do to him?

The other idea is that it gets revealed much, much later after Y/N is out and is trying to rebuild relationships with people. I'm thinking Tim finds them in one of Jokers old hideouts and takes them to Bruce. Y/N walks in halfway through them seeing what is on one of them and freaks the fuck out demanding they be destroyed. - I like this idea the most out of the two I think - She soon after decides to blow up every one of Joker's hideouts after that, in case he made copies.

I shall stop myself here. There's a bunch of different things I could ramble about - thankfully I'm still in love with the premise of the fic and have lots of ideas.

#birds of a feather #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x reader #18+#queennightsetz #thank you friend!#answered

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linklethehistorian · 3 years

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Randou and the Sins of Season 3's Fifteen Adaption (Interlude)

Episode 27 — The God of Fire: A Post-Section Addendum

Forgive me for backtracking for a brief moment, but in hindsight, there were two small things — particularly relating to the subsection of this section, which is titled “The Confrontation with Sheep at the Arcade” — that it seems I failed to properly address in my initial posts on this subject.

After realizing this mistake during the long struggle to get back on track with rolling out the rest of my article, it became apparent to me that I had three choices: I could go back and try to edit this information into the main article, hoping that it would fit well into what already existed without clashing with the carefully written transitions between sections, I could wait until the very end of my article and then make a post addressing the matter in hindsight, risking my audience becoming and remaining conflicted over certain bits of information until then, and being totally unaware of the one thing I accidentally skipped over, or I could simply make a separate addendum such as this to address it here and now, as soon as possible, and not have to worry about fitting it directly into the previous section for the time being — without having to give up either the chance to talk about it now or even to potentially go back at the end and try to fit it back into the main article at my leisure, as well.

Naturally, as I’m more than sure you can already see for yourself, given that you’re reading this, I decided to go with the last of these options, as I felt that this was the one that would offer the greatest amount of opportunities, with the least amount of potential problems that could come out of it. As for whether or not I will eventually, upon the completion of this very long analysis and review, attempt to backtrack and merge this added data into its rightful place in the main piece, that is something which I will have to decide when the time comes, even if I have a very optimistic outlook on this prospect right now, but in the meantime, I will just be sharing it with you here, and placing the link to this post somewhere in the Masterlist between the discussions on Episode 27 and Episode 28.

On one final note before we jump into this, if this post seems a bit sloppier than usual or just flows less smoothly than the rest of the article in any way, I truly apologize, but if that is indeed the case, it is likely due to the fact that I have had much less time to plan for my discussion of these things than I have had for everything else I’ve talked about up until this point. I promise that if in hindsight I should sense any need for it, I will attempt to re-write it in a better, more comprehensible format at a later date, but at the moment, I’m afraid that this is the absolute best that I can do if I am to get this information out in a timely manner.

Now, with that said, let’s go ahead and get into the actual things I’d like to talk about.

Dazai’s Previous Invitation to Join Sheep, and the Gang’s Initial Misunderstanding About His Affiliation

Okay, so this one is honestly a little embarrassing for me to admit to forgetting in hindsight, purely because of how often the subject is referenced in the novel despite being completely removed from the television series’ adaption, but in earnest, part of the reason I didn’t even think about it at the time was due to just how inconsequential this information was in the grand scheme of things; nevertheless, for those of you who truly want to know everything that was changed or omitted from Fifteen in the anime — or even just want to know more about the events and details of Dazai’s life — these facts probably still will be of some interest, so I will mention them anyway.

Contrary to how the show presents it, in the original version of the tale, Sheep actually do not immediately look upon Dazai as a threat when they first meet him in the arcade, nor does it even cross their minds that he might be a member of the Port Mafia; rather, their first thought upon seeing and conversing with him was simply that he had to be someone whom Chuuya had been looking to recruit into their own ranks.

Interestingly, it was also very briefly mentioned much earlier in the novel by Dazai himself — back during his and Chuuya’s initial meeting in Suribachi City — that the bandaged brunet actually was once handed a formal invitation by Sheep to join their organization but ultimately refused their offer, although this does not appear to be the reason why the gang now mistakes him as a potential new member of their group, given that, at the very least, the members there in the arcade seem not to recognize him whatsoever; in fact, they even question Chuuya’s behavior in seemingly having chosen to induct him without first receiving the council’s pre-approval — an accusation which Chuuya curiously, actively chooses not to correct, likely purely because he does not want to look like a traitor in their eyes, should they realize Dazai was actually with the Mafia. Indeed, it isn’t until Dazai purposefully outs himself as a mafioso in order to stop them from taking the redhead away with them that Sheep realizes the truth of things — at which point Dazai ends up having their captive members released in order to appease them, as we see in the anime, and things then go on to unfold as I have described previously in my article.

However, while of this might be very intriguing and, at the least, a bit insightful into how Dazai knows as much about the organization as he does, to be totally earnest about the matter, I must reiterate all the same that the removal of this information from the show was on the whole a very wise one that I can wholeheartedly support, for its existence truly doesn’t affect the overall storyline in any majorly impactful way, whatsoever — so much so that even I, a very dedicated Fifteen enthusiast, was able to easily forget about its existence during every one of the multiple times I wrote, read, and re-wrote the section dealing with the episode in which it mostly would have been present.

Looking back on it from that angle, I suppose, then, that my failure to bring it up prior to this probably did not change all that much, but still, in the interest of transparency and thoroughness, I wanted to make a small addendum post about it, anyway — and besides, there was already another matter regarding the arcade scene that I needed to speak on to begin with, so why pass up the opportunity to do this at the same time? There was genuinely no reason why I should have resisted.

Sheep Truly Being the First to Leave the Arcade in the Novel & DarkestJay8686’s English Translations

Now, in regards to that other matter I needed to address, for anyone who might have already read and/or started reading only DarkestJay8686′s English translation of the Fifteen light novel upon discovering my article, I am sure that there is probably a lot of confusion resulting from the conflict between my assurance that Sheep were the first to leave the Arcade before Dazai and Chuuya, and DarkestJay’s translation, which depicts the exact opposite of this, and for that I deeply apologize — not because I am wrong about it (as I am not), but rather, because I failed to discuss this apparent contradiction back when I first brought it up, even though, rightfully, I should have.

Be that as it may, I need you to understand that I did actually have a specific reason for why I had previously chosen refrain from talking about it, as although I did sincerely think about and even strongly consider adding mention of this whole ordeal to my disclaimers and notes at the beginning of this article back when I had first prepared to post it, in the end, I was simply too concerned that it would be considered somehow rude or unfair for me to do so.

My train of thought back then was — mistakenly — that to express anything other than complete praise and pure, unconditional endorsement of DarkestJay’s work would be to instantly and irrevocably make myself come off as a disrespectful, ungrateful monster who has no appreciation for the people who dedicate their free time to making these stories available to non-Japanese speaking members of the fandom, no matter how kindly I may have tried to word what I had to say. I was utterly terrified that, even if I spoke highly of the translation as a whole and encouraged people to read it, if I also had explicitly addressed the reason why I personally did not recommend using it as the sole source of knowledge of the book at the same time and mentioned any of the mistakes I found to be made within their interpretation of events, then I would be seen as criticizing the author for things that truthfully were likely to largely not be in any way their fault. Obviously, in hindsight, this line of thinking was not the best to listen to in light of the misunderstandings it could cause, and I realize that, but these were nevertheless my thought processes at the time; having had time to think deeper on the circumstances now, though, I of course have also come to the conclusion that none of these other concerns of mine need be had, so long as I try to approach the matter as delicately and respectfully as I can, however big these fears may have been at the time, and so, I intend to finally speak about it at long last.

Furthermore, while I in no way want to seem like an opportunistic profiting off of someone else’s misfortune — as I assure you that I, too, was quite saddened to hear of their struggles and wish it hadn’t happened — seeing as that their work was nonetheless sadly removed from WattPad, and they had to relocate to another platform where they wouldn’t have to fear censorship again, thus requiring me to have to provide y’all with a new link that actually works and leads you to where you need to go to read it, I think that is really the perfect time for me to preface my sharing of that new link with this little PSA of a sort.

So, if you’re keen on getting that new link I mentioned and want to learn about the reason why my information about Sheep’s departure from the arcade doesn’t line up with their translations, as well as why it’s inadvisable to use their otherwise mostly excellent translations as your sole source of info on Fifteen rather than reading it alongside the other trusted translation I have provided at the beginning of my article, feel free to hop on over to this post to find out.

[View the masterlist]

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lady-literature · 4 years

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what a lion cannot manage chp 3

Ao3 | chp 1 | chp 2 | chp 3 | chp 4

Her first thought—after screaming, of course—is that she needs to go tell Kacchan right now. She just found out something big and insane and Kacchan would want to know too.

She curbs that desire before it can go anywhere.

This is huge, yes, and she doesn't want to keep this from Kacchan but it’s also not her secret to tell. All Might- Yagi hadn’t wanted her to know. Otherwise, he would have told her.

But he didn’t. She figured it out accidentally instead.

Ugh.

How is one supposed to deal with figuring out their idol’s secret identity? How is someone supposed to deal with having known their idol for months without actually knowing and she just… Izumi has so many emotions about this.

All his nervousness whenever she brought up All Might makes so much sense now and, oh kami. She’s gushed about him to his face. Just have Kacchan explodo-kill her now. It’ll be a mercy.

How is she supposed to face Yagi now? What is she going to tell him?

She keens, low and long and distressed, in the silence of her room.

It probably says a lot about her general existence that it’s that and not the scream that brings Aoi crashing through her door with a worried expression.

***

The next three days pass in a daze for Izumi.

It’s only by the grace of everyone thinking she’s just upset over Yagi-san that she gets through it. Which, she means, they aren’t technically wrong. But not for the reasons they think.

She misses him like an ache in her chest but it’s her mind that’s the problem.

Aligning the image of the Great Savior All Might, their Symbol of Peace and model by which all great Heroes strive to follow, with her dorky, awkward Yagi who spends his free time telling corny jokes is just… disorienting. It makes both too much and absolutely zero sense.

How can one person be so different and yet so similar at the same time?

She can tell she’s starting to get on Kacchan’s nerves with all her fidgeting and not-quite muttering. He’s taken to knocking her on the head when she spirals too far or when he needs her attention. Sometimes, she can even catch him frowning at her out of the corner of her eye.

It’s the same look he uses when unraveling complicated chemical equations.

She wishes she could just tell him, could share her worries and fears and concerns but she can’t. Instead, she smiles and begs him to take her to the bakery on main street until he gets irritated enough to stop trying to figure out why she’s upset.

***

Her and Yagi talk near every day. Even if it’s only a few texts with hours between responses.

It had taken him two days in the beginning to call her. Days she now knows were probably busily filled with whatever All Might business he’d been pushing off to be here, but at the time she thought he’d been avoiding her. She’d been scared to reach out, hesitant to make the leap as doubts filled her mind.

But after, it was as if the floodgates opened. Calls and texts and video chats were exchanged as often as possible, the pair reaching out with the same vigour they had when they were right next to one another.

He’s slow to answer texts sometimes, and video chats are often hastily rescheduled with little notice but Izumi understands. He’s busy. He’s All Might, after all. She can’t fault him for saving people.

What kind of Hero would that make her if she did?

***

For all the talking they do, Izumi never actually brings up him being All Might.

It’s not like she’s trying to hide it, but it just… never seems like the right time. It’s not a conversation to have on the phone, she thinks.

And it’s not like she’s going to tell anyone, so it’s probably fine, right? She’s just waiting until she sees him in person again, until his next visit. It’s a delicate situation that requires a certain level of finesse that you can’t get over the phone, is all.

Not because Izumi is terrified that she’d accidentally betrayed his trust too much to come back from and he’ll never speak to her again if he finds out so she’s trying to prolong her time with him for as long as possible.

Certainly not that.

***

Izumi opens the door right as Katsuki raises his fist to pound on the wood with all the aggression to be found in his boyish body. His fist halts mid-air, almost punching her in the eye.

He scowls at her. “I hate when you do that.”

She grins at the stutter in his heartbeat they both know she can hear. They both know he thinks it’s cool though he’s never said it.

“Did you need something, Kacchan?” she asks instead of pointing that out. He only gets grumpier when she acknowledges those kinds of things.

“What kind of stupid question is that? We’re going to the park, idiot. Or did you forget?”

Izumi thinks back over the last couple days. Katsuki never asked her to go to the park.

She decides not to point that out either.

“Let me grab my notebook.”

“Whatever. Just hurry the fuck up!”

“Language!” someone calls from inside the house. Katsuki automatically flips them off despite not being able to see them or vice versa. She finishes pulling on her shoes and pushes him off down the street before he can get into another screaming match with Uncle Kyo.

“We’re going to the park!” she yells into the house, raising her voice for the benefit of the humans’.

“Have fun, sweetheart!” her mom says from the upstairs along with a chorus of other well wishes from everyone else.

***

Izumi will be the first to admit she has a bit of a skewed metric for what most people consider ‘normal.’ Katsuki’s not that far behind her, she thinks, but Kami forbid she tell him that.

Exhibit A: most kids come to the park to play in the jungle gym or build sandcastles. Izumi and Katsuki… do not do that.

“Kacchan, you’re putting too much strain on your joints!” Izumi calls from where she’s perched along the bar on top of the swingsets, balanced in a way one can only achieve with a tail for a counterweight. “Try bending your elbow more!”

“Don’t tell me what to do, damn nerd!” he shouts, vaulting over the balance beam. “I don’t need your fucking help!”

His heartbeat doesn’t stutter—both because it’s going to fast for it to and what he said isn’t really a lie anyway.

His arms still loosen up, because he knows she’s right and her advice has never been about him needing it.

The new angle should lessen the stress on his elbows but it’s going to make him sore quicker. Izumi makes a note about looking up exercises to help strengthen the muscles in his arms and shoulders in the corner of the page.

For the last month or so, Katsuki’s been all but brimming with excess energy. He’s barely able to sit still in the classroom anymore and seems angrier than ever. He’s even been suspended from the wrestling team for one too many displays of aggression. He still does kickboxing every other day but it’s not quite cutting it.

Izumi’s taken to pulling him out to the track at lunchtime to let him run out whatever energy he can but it’s not enough. The first few hours after school and weekend mornings have become dominated by Katsuki dragging her into the forest to jog up the hiking trails or to the park for her to set up increasingly difficult obstacle courses for him.

Like today.

He’ll keep going until he’s dead on his feet, she knows, refusing to stop until he hits a wall of exhaustion and she has to half-drag, half-carry him back home.

It’s really starting to worry her, watching him work himself into the ground for no discernable reason. But he won’t talk to her about it.

She’s not sure if he’s embarrassed or prideful or some other self-important reason he’s come up with, but it all comes out to the same thing: Izumi floundering around to help treat the symptoms of the sickness Katsuki won’t talk about.

She can’t even yell at him about keeping secrets from her because all that would do is piss him off and make her a hypocrite.

They both know Izumi keeps things from him, has secrets she can’t and won’t share with him (secrets that burn at the base of her throat, that keep building in number despite her best efforts).

One day they’re going to fight about that. It’s all she can do to push it off until tomorrow.

***

Izumi gets good at reading between the lines during her time talking with Yagi.

She’d already been good, in an unpolished fox-born-affinity kind of way. But having to parse through Yagi’s heavily edited daily schedules makes her better.

He’s good at lying without lying. Dancing around issues and straight-up avoiding others. She can see how he’s kept his identity a secret for so long.

It means Izumi has to be sneaky about her questioning. Has to do more than just not be obviously worried after she’d watched some two-bit villain throw him through a wall and oh kami, what about his side? Why isn’t he in the hospital?

She watches All Might fights with something rapidly approaching anxiety these days. Flinches at hits more than she cheers for his wins.

Kacchan notices because he’s far more observant than most people give him credit for.

He’s agitated by it as far as she can tell. Takes an almost personal offence to her worry over the number one hero, which is more than a little confusing for her.

Sure, he’s still a bit touchy about the whole ‘letting people help and worry about him’ thing but Izumi’s never seen him apply that hang-up to another person. Much less All Might.

Every time she wrings her hands at a TV screen or bites her lip while reading an article, Kacchan’s face twists like he swallowed a lemon. She wants to ask about it but is half-convinced it might be related to that other issue he won’t talk to her about, so she doesn’t. For now, at least.

Her temporary solution of waiting until Kacchan calms down just enough that she can tackle-hug him without being immediately thrown off is working well enough anyway.

***

Izumi remembers the first time she told Katsuki she wanted to be a hero, back when he was still all sharp edges and blistering palms. When it seemed like he’d never settle into his skin or breathe without the weight of all the expectations he’d placed on himself.

Before, even, the time she crawled back down a tree to meet the angry words of “why do you do that?”

He’d told her he was going to be a better hero than All Might and Izumi had brightened like he’d hung the stars. Her mouth was halfway around a rambling tirade about saving the day and helping people when he’d laughed. Harsh and cruel.

It stopped Izumi in her tracks.

“How are you gonna be a hero?” he taunts, nose raised in superiority. “All you can do is hear and smell stuff from far away! How are you supposed to fight anyone with a quirk like that?”

This isn’t the first time someone has said this to Izumi, and she doubts it will be the last. That’s the nature of the secret she keeps.

There is indignation in her chest. It is not new.

The anger though? That’s new. She’s never been truly angry at the townspeople before.

It hadn’t been so personal before. It doesn’t matter that she’d only known this boy for a few short weeks, he was hers. The winds whispered it to her, the pounding of the earth demanded it.

The townspeople are kind and friendly and hers in the detached way all innocents are hers, but Katsuki is different—is supposed to be different. Izumi does not know how many Protectors walk the earth, but Katsuki is the first she’d found and that means something whether either of them know it or not.

Her mouth twists into a frown. “Quirks aren’t everything.”

And they aren’t. She knows that, has known it since she sent Daiki to the nurse’s office in third grade.

Izumi has her teeth and her claws, has her mind and a viciousness born of the chaos at her center. She has magic, something so few people know how to wield these days.

And past that? Her Nona remembers the time before quirks, remembers their birth and the riots it started. The hatred. Izumi’s grown on stories and tales of the time before quirks. Of the great feats humanity made with nothing but their hands and minds.

It’s not quirks that make humans special. It never was.

Katsuki, arrogant and prideful and still so young, doesn't agree. Doesn’t understand.

“They hell they’re not!” he laughs and it’s a mocking sort of sound that makes tears prick at her eyes. “You only say that because yours is weak.”

“No!” she shouts. Her voice cracks and her breath heaves from her lungs like she can’t get enough air but she shouts anyway. “I’m not weak. I’m not less than you! You’re just being a bully and mean and that’s not how a hero acts!”

Katsuki pushes her to the ground and she’s sobbing now because the wind whispers to her and she knows, she knows, deep in her chest, that this is important. That there’s a crossroads here and it will change everything if she picks wrong.

“All Might wins and smiles and is kind and you’ll never be like him if you act like a bully!” she yells through her tears. Glares at him from her spot on the ground, through her tears and pain and hope and she thinks no. Not this time. Not him. Not here.

Izumi plants her hands on the ground, her knees dirty and face red, and she stands back up as tall as she can, chin tilted in defiance. She’s a whole head shorter than him and looks a sorry sight with all her tears but she stands before her friend, the boy that Fate Herself decreed would walk at her side until the very end, and she glares.

Greek fire against boiling pools of blood and she doesn’t bother to flinch. She won’t bend for this.

She will bend and bend until she breaks for so many things but not for this. For this, she will be stone or she will shatter.

“You’re not supposed to be mean,” she says firmly, honestly. “If you keep looking down on everyone, you’re only going to be sad and angry and alone. If you can’t see that, you’re not gonna get better and you won’t grow.”

He looks like she slapped him. Stricken and utterly still and furious but she doesn't care.

She’s not weak. Power is an old friend of hers and the world will shake beneath her feet. Izumi will grow up and she will be mighty.

Not even her precious Kacchan can tell her she can’t.

***

It was that moment, she thinks, that truly changed his path. Her inability to let him ruin himself for the sake of his pride.

If she was kinder, less selfish perhaps, she might have let him grow into it himself. Let him make mistakes and learn from them and lean on others for those life lessons.

But she is not and she didn’t. Instead, she shoved him into lessons he was not meant to learn yet for years to come. Instead, she robbed him of his growth and cheapened it because she could not live with him hating her. Because she couldn’t bear to live in a world where he thought her small.

She only hopes that when he realizes what she did, he doesn’t hate her for it.

***

Katsuki knows there’s something strange about his best friend. He’d have to be blind, deaf and fucking moronic to not have noticed.

But, well. Weird shit happens all the time in this town. People do weird shit all the time in this town.

Spirit traps hang from every eve. The crows are smarter here than anywhere else. No one walks through the crossroads at the center of town. People carry salt in their pockets and iron jewellery on their wrists. Half the deaths in town are unexplained.

Something’s weird with his best friend, but then, he thinks, something’s weird with everyone.

He gets used to what he can and pointedly ignores the rest. It’s whatever. It’s not like it really affects him .

Until it does.

***

Katsuki starts seeing things from the corners of his eyes.

Shadows that move and pockets of air that shimmer like hot asphalt. Things that aren’t really there and faces that terrify him even when he can’t remember why. Voices just at the edge of his hearing and feelings he can’t explain.

A bunch of weird things that don’t mean anything and definitely don’t make him jumpy or paranoid.

So what if he starts keeping a dreamcatcher above his bed or good luck charms in his pockets? Or if he starts flicking his bedroom light on and off three times before actually turning it off at night?

That no one’s business but his own. It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t really know why he does it. He doesn't need to explain himself to anyone.

It’s nothing.

At least, until he has to stop looking at Izu head-on because when he does, he gets so dizzy he wants to vomit. Or when there’s suddenly three times as many people in town with familiar green hair that make his vision swim just to look at, and weird, overly large foxes running at the edge of the forest.

***

There’s a door in his house that wasn’t there that morning.

It’s in one of the basement hallways, tucked away in a corner and when Katsuki stares at it, it gives him the same ‘headache behind the eyes’ feeling as all the new broccoli-tops running around town.

A normal person would be unnerved and confused by all the fuckery going on. This has horror movie written all over it, with Katsuki starring front and center to get demonically possessed.

Katsuki glares at the door before barging his way through it without fanfare.

Being unnerved is for losers who never get shit done and any two-bit demon that thinks they can control him will be in for one hell of a surprise. Namely, his fist up whatever the equivalent of their ass is.

***

The door opens up into a stairway that leads to a secret second basement containing a library filled with books and the weirdest shit Katsuki has ever seen in his life.

He plucks a book from the shelf at random, opens to a page in the middle and skims over the overly fancy handwriting.

His blood freezes at what he reads.

***

At eleven years old, Katsuki is filled to bursting with energy and jittering nerves like something in his gut was building and building and building and-

There are things hidden in shadows and the darkness, things with teeth and too many eyes and rules he doesn’t understand but should because they’re all so familiar, why does he-?

There’s a library under his house filled with things that shouldn’t exist and knowledge that belongs in folktales and fantasy books but Katsuki knows it’s true because something in his mind has clicked into place like it was always meant to and suddenly he can see-

He sits at a table surrounded by books and Katsuki reads and learns and his thoughts spin faster and faster and confusion fades to a muted sort of horror and understanding. He feels bile rise in his throat because, oh kami, he didn’t- this wasn’t- he doesn't want to know-

At eleven years old, Katsuki learns about the supernatural and yōkai and all that hides behind the veil and he grows sick because he’s not stupid. He can see now and the books before him are filled with insane things but they’re all real. His best friend is yōkai, is a fox.

And Katsuki’s family has spent generations hunting them.

***

“I think Kacchan’s avoiding me.”

Yagi blinks at her through the screen. “Hello to you too, my dear.”

“Sorry, yes. Hi, Yagi! I miss you lots,” she babbles quickly before going back to the problem at hand. “Kacchan’s avoiding me and I don’t know why.”

Yagi hums thoughtfully even as his mouth twitches with amusement. “Are you sure that’s what he’s doing? Hiding doesn't sound like the Young Bakugou.”

“It’s not hiding,” she defends on instinct, then bites the end of her thumb. “But I don’t know what else it would be. He’s acting… acting a lot like he did when we were first friends. How he only interacted with me when he had to.”

“Now that definitely doesn’t sound like Young Bakugou,” Yagi half-heartedly teases, starting to look worried on behalf of Izumi. “Have you, perhaps, spoken to him about it?”

Izumi gives him a look like he’s just told her he thinks the sky is orange.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

“You don’t just spring emotional conversations on Kacchan, Yagi,” she says, looking almost scandalized. “He’ll get hives or something.”

Yagi, for his part, only covers his mouth with his hand instead of slamming his face into the desk or bursting into laughter at her misery. That’s what Aoi did when Izumi asked her for advice, the unhelpful jerk.

“If that’s so, then I’m sure you just need to give him time. He’ll come to you when he’s ready.”

It’s not the advice Izumi wanted to hear because she’d already figured that and she’s far from a patient person. But, she also knows he’s right.

“Yeah, maybe,” she sighs unhappily. Then, she plants her elbows on the table. “So how’s work going? Are your coworkers teasing you again?”

Yagi pulls a face like he’s trying to be long-suffering but it hits too close to amused and fond. “They always are, my girl. Always.”

***

If she didn’t know any better, she’d think Kacchan was just waiting for her to get anxious enough to blab to Yagi before he put her out of her misery. It’s a reliable way to gauge how big of a problem she thinks something is, seeing as she doesn’t like adding more things to Yagi’s already overflowing plate.

It was almost anti-climactic considering all the horrible things Izumi had been imagining. But, in her defense, it was her and Kacchan. Neither of them ever did anything by halves.

He corners her after school and pulls her down one of the hallways no one goes down. She’s so relieved that he’s actually looking at her and not pretending she doesn’t exist that she doesn’t even care when he crams her between him and the corner where the end of the lockers meet the wall, effectively boxing her in.

Her mouth is already halfway around a question, ready to start speaking at a thousand miles an hour without giving him a chance, but he beats her to it.

“I know.”

Her mouth snaps shut in her confusion. Her head tilts. “Know what?”

His eyes are boring into hers, the first time he’s looked her in the eye in… she doesn't even know. A month? It was before he started avoiding her entirely at least.

She watches as slowly, purposefully, his eyes flick to the top of her head.

She’s still confused. Is there something wrong with her hair? Her ears flick in impatience, waiting for him to just tell her-

His eyes follow the movement.

Her ears stand straight up, panic coursing through her and his eyes follow that too. He can see.

He can see.

“You’re a fox,” he says and it’s not a question. “A Shual Nephesh, right?”

Behind her eyes, her mind spins and whirls like a hurricane. Moving so much faster than everyone around her, a mess of plans and paths and actions laid before her like a prophecy of her own choosing.

She stares into his eyes, into glittering pools of blood, and sees the nervousness hidden there behind the arrogance and bluster. She sees the wariness and the confusion. But no fear. No hatred.

Izumi takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly, and makes a decision.

“We need to talk to Nona.”

***

Everyone’s surprisingly calm about Katsuki being in the know.

Most of the adults give her an almost disappointedly exasperated look before she explains he has the Sight which is what gave them away. Which… rude. Sure, she’s been wanting to tell Kacchan for years but that doesn’t mean she would. Not when Nona gave a direct order.

She can get away with a lot but not even she would test such a boundary. Though, by the looks, she’s almost sure she could’ve. Interesting. A thought for later.

They almost get through it all without a major incident.

That is, until Kacchan opens his mouth and drops a bigger bomb than him being the first person in a hundred years to figure them out.

“There’s something else you should know.” He’s shuffling his feet next to her and if Izumi didn’t know any better she’d think he’s worried. But about what?

Her Nona raises her brow at him. “And that is?”

“My Mom’s maiden name was Takanashi.”

Oh.

Yeah. That’ll do it.

***

They try to make her leave the room.

Izumi snorts and latches onto Kacchan's arm, staunchly refusing to let go. You don’t spend almost four years as Bakugou Kastuki’s best friend without picking up at least a few of his brattier habits. Such as his problem with doing things he doesn’t want to.

Izumi knows what hunters are, knows to be wary of them the same way all yōkai are. She knows who the Takanashi Clan are too, knows they’re the reason her skulk is hidden away on their own land even if no one will tell her why or what they did.

Learning that Katsuki, her best friend, is a Takanashi? A descendant of the same people who cursed her skulk? Her born enemy?

Well.

Izumi’s not quite as upset as she supposes she should be.

It’s just that, it’s still Kacchan isn’t it? The same boy they’ve all know for years? Nothing’s really changed. He can’t help the family he was born into and it’s not like he’s ever threatened them or was even likely to do so.

She doesn’t understand why everyone’s throwing a fit.

After a long five minutes of people yelling and being unnecessarily dramatic—distantly, Izumi wonders if this is how her classmates feel around her and Kacchan—she decides enough is enough.

She shares a look with Aoi, one of the few people not making a big deal out of this, along with her mother and Nana Naoki. Aoi understands what she needs without speaking.

A sharp whistle pierces the air. Loud and shrill enough to make even the humans wince in pain.

It’s quiet almost immediately, and Izumi grins even as the adults glare at them.

This is why Aoi is her favourite.

“Thank you,” she smiles, then turns back to Kacchan, patting his forearm. “You can keep talking now.”

***

Everyone’s staring at him.

Adults who are older than they look and far more powerful all have their attention on him.

Nona—Midoriya Asuka, the Matriarch—is standing before him, perfectly poised with all five of her tails fanned out behind her. She doesn’t look older than forty even though he knows she has to be more than two hundred. Her silver eyes bore into him and he’s almost positive she’s exactly what Izu will look like in however many years. Powerful aura and all.

He can taste ozone in the air and knows that it won’t matter that he’s known most of these people for years. It won’t matter that he and Izu are practically inseparable or that Inko is as much his mom as she is Izu’s and vice versa with his own parents.

One wrong move and he doesn’t think he’ll leave this room.

He can’t even say he’d blame them. He doesn’t know exactly what his family did to them, but he knows it wasn’t good. Knows it forced them into hiding. Them, Shaalim Nephashoth. These great, powerful beings who should be neatly sat at the top of the yōkai food chain, just under the Kami Themselves and Nephilim.

So, Katsuki does what he always does when faced with a challenge. Raises his chin and charges forward. Failure isn’t an option and Katsuki sneers at the very idea.

He needs them to trust him which means he needs to prove he can be trusted.

There’s a reason he spent so long holed up in that damned library, paging through books that made him queasy to look at. He had to get this right.

He locks eyes with the Midoriya Matriarch and speaks, clear and with as much authority as he, a boy still a few months from twelve years, can muster.

“I, Bakugou Katsuki, renounce my ties to the Takanashi Clan by witness of the earth, moon and stars. The grudges of my ancestors are not my own and no secrets held by the Midoriya Skulk will pass my lips.” His hands flex at his sides and he takes a deep breath. “I walk this path with you, not against you. I swear it.”

He can feel the metal and magic curling it’s way around his wrist, so similar to the one he can now see on Izu's. He doesn’t look at it, too busy holding the Matriarch’s gaze and awaiting her judgement.

It’s tense for a few long seconds and the smell of ozone grows almost overwhelming. He doesn’t dare to even breathe.

And then… she blinks. Her eyes are a warm green rather than gunmetal silver and something like approval rests there.

“Very well. Your oath is accepted, young Seer. I, and that of my skulk, hold no ill will toward you.”

His breath wooshes out of him and he thinks he hears laughter at the edges of the room.

Nona—because that’s who she is again, not the Matriarch—turns her head towards Izu behind him. “You’ve chosen a good one.”

Izu latches onto his arm and Auntie Inko comes up on his other side to thread her fingers through his hair.

“I know,” she says proudly.

***

It falls to Izumi to explain everything, even though it probably shouldn’t have.

Katsuki, unsurprisingly, came in with a good chunk of knowledge. For all that he’s an easily lit fuse, he’s not one to disregard an advantage. And for this situation? Knowledge was the only one he had.

Izumi kindly but firmly corrects any of the stereotypes or misconceptions his source material gave him, which was surprisingly few. The Takanashi’s bestiary was unexpectedly unbiased, it seemed.

Katsuki still looks a bit shaken from having his entire worldview turned upside down and exhausted by all the things he’s learned, so they call Mitsuki and Masaru and tell him he’s going to stay the night. It’s a bit odd, because Katsuki has never set foot in her house before, much less spent the night, but the magic settled around them means that the Bakugous don’t question it. Izumi’s spent more than enough nights at their house, so as far as they're concerned, this is normal.

It isn’t, but they aren’t going to tell them that.

Her and Kacchan build a pillow fort in the middle of her room. Kacchan starfishes out, taking up as much space as possible while Izumi curls tightly into a ball and tucks herself up against the crook of his flung out arm.

“I was pissed, you know,” he says into the darkness, apropos of nothing. It’s still dark outside and they’d be getting up for breakfast soon if they had ever gone to bed in the first place. “Absolutely furious that you kept something this big from me. I thought you- I figured that you were so damn powerful and that you’ve just spent the last four years laughing at me.”

Izumi jolts, lifting her head to stare at him in a mixture of surprise and horror. “Kacchan, I would never-”

“I know,” he cuts her off. “I know. It took me reading two more pages to figure that out. That you weren’t hiding because it was fun.”

“I wanted to tell you,” she insists and it’s true. She hated lying to Kacchan. It was just so fundamentally wrong to lie to him. But this wasn’t like with her name. This wasn’t a secret she could just do with as she wished. It affected more than just herself and she couldn’t risk her skulk the same way she’s willing to risk herself.

She doesn’t really know how to tell him that though.

“I’m still angry, and- and I hate that you could keep a secret this big from me but I… I don’t hate you.”

Izumi nods, because that’s fair.

“I’ll make it up to you,” she promises.

He snorts, knocking the back of his fist against her forehead. “Damn well better, loser. I expect you to be waiting on me hand and foot for the next month.”

She grabs his wrist, because he’s always so fussy about his hands and the dangers associated thereof, and draws designs into it with the tip of her fingers, just under his binding.

Kacchan harrumphs but doesn't pull away and she has to smother her smile. “Of course, O Great King Bakugou,” she teases. “I am but your loyal servant.”

“Good,” he says haughtily and she doesn't have to look at him to hear the smirk in his voice. “My first order will be that you have to clean my room for me tomorrow.” He pauses. “Also, never call me ‘Bakugou’ ever again. That shit’s weird.”

Izumi gasps. “I knew you liked the nickname!”

“Eat shit and die.”

It’s not a denial and Izumi can't stop herself from chirping happily. Even when it prompts him into trying to smother her with a pillow.

***

Katsuki’s gotten good at interpreting Izumi’s moods over the years.

She’s an open book—unlike him—and you’d think that would mean it’s easy to tell what she’s feeling but you would, of course, be wrong.

Sure she expresses herself freely and rarely tries to hide her emotions from anyone, but that means jack shit when half of them just get expressed as ‘start crying immediately’ anyway.

The amount of rage and frustration that first year had been, trying to understand her outbursts and anticipate them… Katsuki still winces at some of the following fights.

But the thing about Izu having a tail and ears, about him being able to see them now? It’s that it makes his job about two hundred percent easier. After a brief adjustment period where he has to relearn all her non-verbal signals with the inclusions of ears and a tail, he settles himself neatly at the top of the list of people who can read her like a book. Higher than, perhaps, even Auntie Inko.

It’s a surprisingly comforting thought. Especially since she’s been able to see through him for years now.

Turnabout's fair play and all that.

***

It’s two days later when Izumi sticks her head in through Kacchan’s window. It’s seven in the morning and they don’t have school today. She expects him to still be in bed but instead, he’s hunched over his desk doing ninth-grade level math they weren’t even assigned.

And he calls her the nerd.

“Hey, Kacchan!” she says brightly, grabbing his attention.

He whirls around, palms already sparking dangerously before he sees her at the window.

“Jesus fuck,” he snaps, glare chilling enough to curdle milk. “I’m gonna kill you.”

Izumi pouts at him, laying her chin on his window sill. “Aww. Kacchan that’s not nice.”

“I don’t give a damn.” He slouches back into his desk chair. Then, slowly he narrows his eyes at her, and by proxy, the window she’s leaning through. “How the fuck are you doing that?”

“What do you mean?” she asks, faux innocence.

The look he gives her is ten kinds of unamused. “I live on the second floor.”

“Yeah, so?” Izumi can practically see the steam slowly building in his ears. Smiling, she hoists herself up over the ledge with ease and front flips into the room, arms raised as she sticks the landing.

Kacchan kicks at her legs.

“I hate you,” he says to her form as she sprawls comfortably on the bed.

“Mhmm,” she hums dryly. “Nona sent me over to take inventory of your reliquary. I’m supposed to take whatever’s interesting and burn anything overly insulting.”

He raises an eyebrow at her, challenging.

“They figured I’d be the least conspicuous,” she pauses, pulling a face. “I’m also pretty sure it’s a test of some kind, but I’m not sure what about or why.”

Her only answer is a grunt.

“Now, come on and get dressed! We’ve got work to do.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he snaps but turns around to grab jeans and a black t-shirt with the word ‘SMASH!’ written in red, white, and blue inside a comic book explosion. Idly, she thinks she could probably get that signed for him.

Five minutes later, Izumi descends the stairs with Kacchan in tow to eat breakfast. She tells the Bakugous good morning as she sits at the counter and they regard her with something like amused exasperation. Mitsuki offers to make her scrambled eggs instead of asking how she got into their house without their knowing.

Raising Katsuki taught them when to pick their battles. Meeting little Izumi, who’s as crafty as she is sweet, only served to cement that lesson.

***

The second she steps into the reliquary, her nose wrinkles. Not just at the number of books she’s going to have to sort through—because seriously, were the Takanashis’ some kind of hoarders?—but also at the more… distasteful decorations.

Along the walls and placed on any open space are what Izumi can only assume are meant to be trophies.

Pixie wings pinned carefully onto boards, hollowed horns of more creatures than she can recognize, wings and teeth and claws laid out like cheap prizes. Selkie skins, harpy feathers, swan maiden coats, and wolf fur. Pelts of every color and kind are strung up like tapestries or thrown on the floor like rugs.

Izumi actually hisses when she catches sight of a honey gold foxtail placed in a display case.

There’s more, so much more, but she shuts her eyes and tries to breathe past the smell of death and rot and twisted, hungry magic blanketing the whole room.

She can feel Kacchan frowning at her, hears him shuffle a half step closer to her in an attempt at comfort. “Shoulda warned ya,” he says and it’s about as close to sorry as he gets.

“It’s fine,” she says. “When will your parents be gone?”

There’s a lot in here they need to get out and all of it are things his parents can’t see. Cursed objects in inadequate containers and more remains then she can count that deserve to be put to rest properly.

Kami, her skulk’s going to want to raise the Takanashis from their shallow graves just to kill them all over again when they see this.

“They’re going on a date tonight, actually. They’ll be gone for a couple hours.”

She nods and pulls out her phone to call the house and tell them. This was her job, and she’ll go through the books, but there’s no way she’s touching half the stuff in here without an expert telling her she can. She’s surprised the house hasn’t collapsed with how much malicious magic she can feel in here.

“What books did you already go through? We’ll sort those ones first.”

***

They spend hours down there, skimming through tomes and sorting them into ‘ acceptable’, ‘needs a more thorough read-through’, and ‘ just fucking burn it’ piles.

Nona, along with six of Izumi’s grandparents, arrive ten minutes after the Bakugous leave and their reaction to the reliquary is pretty spot on of what she expected. Which is as gratifying as it is mildly terrifying because she doesn’t think she’s ever seen her family so furious before.

Izumi and Katsuki, sometimes with the assistance of actual adults who should be doing this in the first place, make their way through all the books in about a week and a half. She’s actually kind of impressed with the amount that proved not to be total wastes of time.

She’s also, perhaps, a little bit surprised when she doesn’t catch anyone going back through the books and checking her work. No one questions her judgement.

Izumi isn’t sure what to make of that.

***

“So, is that why you and your family are so fucking weird?”

Izumi pauses, looking up from the collection of Edgar Allen Poe she was reading to stare at Kacchan who’s made himself more than comfortable on her bean bag chair. She tries to figure out what he’s trying to ask her but ultimately gives up.

“Huh?”

“Foxes,” he says like she’s stupid for not being capable of mindreading. “Are they all so fucking weird or is it just you guys?”

Izumi’s lips twist. “Most of the skulk are human.”

Kacchan rolls his eyes, flopping back against all the pillows he stole from her bed to make his throne. “Of course you are. I don’t know why I even tried.”

***

Yagi: Midoriya, my dear!

I’ve discovered a very interesting fact I think you’d enjoy

Me: oh?

what is it?

Yagi: Did you know french fries weren’t originally made in France?

Me: uh…

i guess ive never thought about it?

where were they invented?

Yagi: They were first cooked in GREECE!

Me: …

Yagi no