#i was talking about this with sara today and the answer is i don’t fucking know

[asarlaiochtsystem]

Branches of a Wreath (A Day In the Life of a System)

The body lays in the bed, sprawled out in the mangled manner it was accustomed to as a child. It’s always hotter in the body’s room than everywhere else in the domicile, always too dry and the body doesn’t intake enough water. The body awakes and now it is a girl, 18, normative.

Sara shook her head and grabbed her phone, flipping through the messages from her friends, letting them know that she was the one in front today. How did she know it was her? For Sara, the question was one that elicited anxiety and unease for she didn’t know the answer. She just sort of knew, something about it being her and her memories in this body. It was her likes, she had her own wants and problems compared to the others who shared the body. It was her beliefs, different from the others and realistically it was improbable that someone would fake seven different personalities with their own backgrounds, desires, likes, relationships and even involuntary reactions to stimuli. It was her, for better or worse. 

Sara pulled up the document with all of the notes:

8 desires white hair dye

Ark Server needs updating: Talk to Jackie

Homework done, please edit writing

Azrael needs more feathers to fix wings

Elaine needs more glue for the latex ears

SWP Table at 2:00p

SWP table? Wait, when did we… oh gods damnit Ginevra! Sara pulled her hair back and stretched, “Just what I wanted today. If she wants to help the socialists so badly she can do so on her time.” She knew that was a ridiculous proposition: they shared the time. Morning rituals and purifications were complete, it was time for breakfast.

“Morning Mike.”

“Morning mom.”

That wasn’t her name. It wasn’t even the name of the body. The body hadn’t used that name since middle school. The body’s name was Vanessa and her name was Sara. It wasn’t her mother, Sara’s mom was probably long dead by this point. Old age and drugs do that to someone. This woman was the body’s mother. You’d think a mother would know the name of their child, alas the sins of modern suburbia are endless and constant. This body would always be a “baby boy”, “Son”, “brother”, the stain of a false masculinity (or perhaps a denied femininity).

Sara liked driving to school, it was 30 minutes of alone time where it was just her, the road and the radio. They all had their own playlists: Death Metal for Azrael, Dark Synth for 8s, Punk music for herself, etc. We don’t have many friends… or any. I’d settle with being seen as an effeminate gay man at this rate. I get it, I’ll never look like the punk-y queer I imagine myself to be, but at the very least I want people to just know I’m not straight. Sara sighed, her hands sliding down the side of the wheel, “Your tells are so obvious, shoulders too broad for a girl.” Laura Grace spoke to her in these songs, there were few pieces of media that appealed to her dysphoria in a way that provided a sort of comfort. It didn’t make her feel better, it didn’t make her sadder, it was just comfortable.

**********

Azrael was in the car at the church when she woke up. She didn’t remember driving, must’ve been someone else. First things first, throw on the jacket, wipe off that shitty white girl makeup, grab your cigarettes in the glove box. What class did they have today? She grabbed their phone and flips through their schedule: “Workshop #2” in big letters. Oh for fuck’s sake. It wasn’t that Azrael was against interacting or writing, it was just uncomfortable for her. It felt like a knight without armor or a snake without scales: she didn’t feel safe. Have you ever had that feeling where you wish you had a weapon, not because you were going to use it, but because you wanted to just have it on you? She was feeling it right now. 

She kicked open the car door… well okay she didn’t kick it open, she pushed it open after opening it. The parking space dips over a bit, it’s hard to get up when you’re already 45 degrees inverted. When Azrael had finally made it to the front gates she heard someone come up behind her.

“Azrael, I know you didn’t pack your filth with you.”

She didn’t need to turn, she knew who it was, “Sara… bash our head into any walls again? Or were you weeping about how our daddy beat us as a child?” Azrael didn’t see her, but she felt the gritting of teeth, the redding in her face, the irish curse on her lips, “Relax, I’m just playing. Yeah I got my medicines, I’m not a fan of being in front for this sort of stuff”

“One, go hifreann leat. Two, SWP table today remember? Gotta get Gin out for that. Three, if you’re so nervous just don’t go,” Sara twirled her hair, some stupid thing she does to feel less dysphoric, “Besides, it’s just reading stories and responding, just following the patterns. Use our autism to our advantage.”

“You know,” Azrael began, “you don’t have to be so hard on yourself. Being a punk is overrated and just because mom and dad are shitty doesn’t mean you need to take it out on others. You’re not defined by their bigotry.”

Sara started to fade away, “Just,” she did that thing where she tries to say something, but wants to say it in such a way it doesn’t seem hypocritical, even though it is, “don’t worry about it.”

Azrael decided to not go to class, she spent the time instead smoking while she waited for… something. Loneliness, that’s the feeling that drives her up the wall. They didn’t have friends, not really. They walked to and fro, spent their time talking to themselves about nonsense, about what it meant to be a schizo like them. 

“That’s rich coming from you. You spent all that time criticizing me about not defining myself by the bigotry of others, and here you are calling yourself a schizo,” Sara sat on the wall above Azrael, at least that’s how she imagined it. 

“Why are you pestering me today? Don’t you have some racist ML to fuck or something?” Azrael took a drag, “Why can’t I deal with 8’s or Gin something?”

Footsteps, like actually real footsteps, not the ones she imagined when her sisters spoke, “Hey Vanessa!”

“Hey”, oh right, they didn’t tell anyone yet. What was this woman’s name again? Carol? Siobhan? Some Irish or Scottish name, the ones mothers give their children to make them seem mystical and mundane at the same time. 

“You weren’t at class today,” the girl looked at the cigarette in Azrael’s hand, “I didn’t know you smoked.”

Right, people don’t really see her, “Only once in a blue moon, when my anxiety acts up bad,” Azrael could see she was upset, “It’s… herbal. Not like I’m chain smoking Marlboro reds.”

“Are those bad?”

“Reds? Yeah they’re like what soldiers and rockers smoke. They taste nasty.”

“And what about Herbals? Do they have nicotine in them?”

“Of course, but it’s not tobacco. It’s usually rose petals.” There was a pause after Azrael spoke.

“Can I ask you something?” 

When people ask that, it’s always the kind of question that tends to offend people,“Sure?”

“Why do you always seem so far away from everyone?”

Azrael looked at her, Grace, that was the name, snuffed the cigarette on the wall and crushed it, “Elaborate.”

Grace was a bit more timid now, “Well… you don’t interact with people, not really. Most of the time you sit on benches, you’re alone, you only walk from your car to class and back. You don’t really seem to do anything.”

She’s got our number… “Well, truth be told I don’t really do anything. I’m kind of scared to do anything honestly.”

“Too scared?” 

Ah fuck that was the wrong answer, “Yeah. I’m kind of agoraphobic and get bad social anxiety. Ask anyone who’s ever had a class with me. I’m kind of scared of showing myself to people.” Well shit, all in now, “If I’m being honest, I feel like the less of me I show to people, the better their opinion of me will be. Not even the people I am organizing with really know what I’m like; I don’t even think the people I hang out with online know what I’m like.”

“Oh…”, Grace grabbed her arm, “Doesn’t that get lonely?”

Yes “No, not really. I just prefer my solitude is all,” Azrael shrugged, “Any other questions?”

Grace shook her head, “Alright well, take care Ness…”

When Grace had finally gone out of sight, Azrael smashed the back of her head on the wall, “Fuck me, why couldn’t I tell the truth?”

**********

Elaine rubbed the back of her head, “Yep, that was Azrael.” Elaine smirked, pulled her hair back and folded the jacket and cigarettes up. She clicked her heels and started to walk towards the University Greens. Elaine always liked to lilt while she walked, today it was Nancy Mulligan, tomorrow it would be Star of the Co. Down. Everything was brighter to Elaine than it was for Azrael or Sara, physically and emotionally. Elaine was the ‘flower girl’ of the system, she always picked up flowers while walking and stuck them into her hair, dancing and skipping all the way to class. Elaine knelt down under a tree and started to pick the dogwood flowers on the branches, placing them one by one into her hair until she had a line of them in her braids. She sat down at the greens, looking around for the table she was to sit at, yet no tell-tale signs of socialists, least of all those she recognized. Hmm… oh the oak tree!

“You and your fucking oak trees,” Azrael was glaring down at Elaine.

“Oak trees are important,” Elaine retorted, “Oak, Ash and Thorn are the sacred woods. You of all people should know that.”

“I gave up on that nonsense about the same time Van gave up on leftism.” Azrael was being venomous, when she gets like this she lashes out at everyone. She usually only becomes this curt when someone else is upset.

“Who’s upset?”

“What?”

“Who. Is. Upset? You don’t get this way unless someone’s upset.” Elaine looked up towards Azrael, her dark hair and bright red eyes trying to hide the truth from Elaine.

“No one…”

Elaine sighed, “Don’t lie to me. I know you… well we both know each other better than anyone.” Elaine started to shape the branches around her into a crown, little pieces turned into something rugged, poorly made, and yet beautiful all the same.

Azrael sat next to Elaine sighing, “Sara’s still upset about that girl on twitter I guess.”

Elaine’s ears twitched, dropping the half-made crown, “Gehenna? We don’t even know her.” She knew that didn’t mean anything, when any trans woman dies they all feel it deeply. Least of all in cases as publicized as this.

“It’s not just that… it’s what it represents.” Azrael fell to the grass, looking up at Elaine, “Van’s mom still calls us Mike. Van’s mom still sees us as a boy. Van’s mom doesn’t even know about us, or even her own daughter. The killings only heighten the subtle kinds of transphobia. The deadnaming, the misgendering, etc. Those are, usually, borne of ignorance rather than cruelty, and ye-”

“And yet, they cut all the same. Death by a thousand plus one cuts,” Elaine placed the crown upon Azrael’s head: a little crown of thorns for the protector.

“Yeah. It all adds up right? What’s that Haywood quote? ‘I’ve got the marks of capital all over my body’? In our case, we have the marks of… a lot of different things on our body. If we were to take our internalized pain and wear it on our flesh we’d look something more akin to St. Bartholomew’s corpse rather than a person.”

Sara sat down next to them now, her hair was covering her eyes, makeup running down her cheek, “It’s just so tiring. I’m tired of martyrs, of eulogies, of the anemoia, of the slaughters and purges. Is this how Sun Yat Sen, Marx, Lenin, Goldman and others felt? Is our lot to suffer? To always desire change in a world that fundamentally hates us for what we are?”

Elaine sighed, “Martyrs die. That’s what makes them Martyrs; a personal sacrifice of some kind. There’s a difference between martyrdom and murder though. A martyr has to willingly give themselves up. It’s this submission to belief that martyrs them. People murdered in oppressive systems are victims. They didn’t ask for it, they didn’t deserve it.” Elaine closed her eyes and let the sound of peers laughing, birds chirping and the feeling of the sun fill her, “Anger is just a type of sadness. You feel powerless, you want to fix it, make it hurt less. It’s like a gaping wound with blood pouring out, nothing works to fix it and so you panic.”

**********

I wake up on the grass. I have flowers in my hair, my head is banging and I am alone with my siblings.

#DID #Dissociative Identity Disorder #plurality #multiplicity #system #fiction #realism

[lya-dustin]

Someone will remember us

Chapter 64

Cw: mentions of teen pregnancy, underage sex, depression, death, mass burning

Taglist: @stargaryenx @mercedesdecorazon

Gif by @daenerys-stormborn

Aemma has not had a vision that ends well since these visions began.

And yet, today Rhaenyra is told to saddle up and join her daughters, for a surprise.

For Aemma’s seven and tenth name day, there will be some feasting and gifts and that will be all.

They were in mourning for Rhaenys, for Luke, for father and little Visenya.

A year ago Rhaenyra had been furious to learn her daughter had eloped with Alicent’s second boy.

Now here she stands in black armor with her daughters in silver and bronze armor as Aemma explains this scheme of hers.

“Ser Tyland divided the treasury to make sure you get nothing should you take the city. Aemond had told me a portion would be going to Braavos and this morning I saw that the fishing cogs will pass through here and here.” Her daughter points at the map

“If we fly there, we can take them unawares while reminding the greens we know how it ends.” Baela smirked as she adjusted her gauntlet. “Aemma says they are to meet Braavosi ships here, but if we catch them as they leave Duskendale, we may even retake the Dunfort.”

And it works.

Despite the holes in the girls’ scheme, it goes better than expected.

The Dunfort welcomes them with open arms, the fishing boats give up at the sight of them and when they return to Dragonstone, the Braavosi come bearing gifts.

One which includes an alliance.

The Triarchy was a thorn at their side especially now that the Rogare family had become a threat to the Iron Bank.

Luck had smiled upon them this day.

And yet for all her good cheer, Aemma cannot make the smile reach her eyes.

She dances with her brothers, with her cousins and whoever is lucky to get her to say yes, but its all perfunctory.

Even with all her favorite foodstuffs and gifts she gets, her daughter runs out the hall the second she gets a chance.

She is in the floor of her rooms, crumpled like a flower crying her eyes out.

So the queen stops being the queen to reveal the mother, and the mother holds her daughter as she mourns the life she had dreamed of.

“I don’t want anyone else to die.” Aemma weeps and Rhaenyra knows there is no stopping it.

The Triarchy is right on schedule and when the Gay Abandon is attacked, no Targaryen children are on board.

Aegon and Viserys have been in Pentos for nearly two moons now.

Smuggled on a Celtigar merchant cog as trading goods and carried inside the Prince of Pentos’ home in a covered wagon.

Aegon now five name days old has mastered writing short sentences and Viserys now runs like the wind at the age of two.

Jace is not allowed to go.

Jace is also cross with her because of the whole Sara Snow thing.

“I’m sorry, I do not know what came over me and she wouldn’t stop making fun of me.” It’s a bad apology, but it makes Jace talk to her , so it works.

There is an imbalance that ocvurs after childbirth and one that apparently comes after weaning a child.

Aemma had been out of sorts for both and proved it was unwise to let her nurse her son.

“How did you know about it? Was it a vision or?” he asked. Baela had not told him how she knew there was a Sara, now how Aemma connected the Sara to the appropriate family name.

“You called her Sara in you sleep. The only Sara you could have fucked is Cregan’s sister who is five and ten like you.” Aemma answered and he in turn looked at the ground in shame.

“Does he know you fucked his sister?” Aemma then asked.

“Yes. Even worse, it was done in their Godswood. I think by their customs I wed her.” Jace answered making the situation far worse.

“Was it registered by their Maester?” Aemma asked and he shook his head. Sham marriages like that were common, fucking in front of a Heart’s Tree did not make a valid marriage.

At most, Jace is a rake not a bigamist.

“But she is pregnant. They wrote to me in the letters sent with the Manderlys. He demands I recognize the child when he or she is born.” He hands her the letter and she is surprised by it.

She asks for a dragon egg for their son ---not child, not daughter, son--- who she wishes for her prince to give her leave to name him Lucerys after their brother.

There seems to be a note of sincerity in her feelings for ‘my prince as sweet and kind as summer’, but Aemma notes that Sara is not the naïve little fool most gently raised girls tended to be.

“You are lucky you are a man, Jace, if I had done this sort of shit I would be the Slutress of Dragonstone not the Princess of Dragonstone.” She hands the letter back and then gives him the only advice she can think of.

“You have to tell mother and grandfather; this child could be a threat to the ones you have with Baela and you know what Daemon is capable of.”

Because if the child is a boy, who’s to say that Stark will not make his loyalty conditional on the boy getting Driftmark.

And if Baela goes crying to her father who’s to say that Sara will live long enough to crow about being blessed with a dragonseed.

As if they didn’t have enough problems already.

“Mother will kill me.” Her brother puts his head in his hands with a groan.

But she won’t.

No, because then a guard rushed to them with the news she knew would come, but foolishly hoped it wouldn’t.

“They’ve broken through the blockade!”

They had been prepared, when no resistance was met when the decoy ships ---carrying nothing but sailors dying of greyscale--- Sharako Lohar had come here with a vengeance.

He was known for being bloody, Caraxes still had a tear in his wing from the last time Daemon faces him in Pentos.

They didn’t come for Dragonstone.

Not they leave Dragonstone unscathed and go after Driftmark instead.

The flight between islands is one of minutes, but every minute is a ship breaking through the blockade and attacking anything it can get is greedy hands on.

She has never seen war, never seen a battle or been in one.

The stink of burning fills her nose through her helm and the heat has her sweltering in her plate and mail even from up there.

Dragons in flight are a beautiful thing, dragons in a fight are a sight from the seventh hell.

“Dracarys!” she shouts as Silverwing burns the line of warships entering through the north of the Gullet while her brother takes the south.

If only Daemon had not returned to the Riverlands to draw the Greens and their rivermen supporters out.

Still, it is six dragons against ninety ships on a suicide mission.

It is thrilling even if it’s terrifying.

This isn’t a training exercise where she burns driftwood and straw, no this time the strawmen are made of flesh and bones.

The screams are loud, some are feminine, some are masculine and some sound like children.

It was morning when it begun.

It is noon when a galley on fire manages to crash into the docks at Hull.

It is evening when Hull is reduced to ash.

It is midnight when Vermax is shot by a bolt through the eye and Jacaerys crashed and burned into Sharako Lohar’s galley.

Jacaerys Velaryon, first born son of Ser Laenor Velaryon and Rhaenyra Targaryen, Princess of Dragonstone, was five and ten years old when he died.

#aemma velaryon #someone will remember us fic #aemond targaryen x velaryon!oc #ocappreciationtag #fyeahhotdocs

[servin-up-surveys]

survey #053

What’s the longest you’ve gone without accessing the internet? Well, excluding when I was a baby and all, somewhere around two weeks during a mental hospital stay. What’s the one book you think everyone should be required to read? Johnny Got His Gun by Dalton Trumbo. Anti-war novel that is simply fanfuckingtastic. How patriotic are you? My "patriotism" reaches into the negatives, dude. When was the last time you used a computer in a public place? A few months ago when I went with my mom to the church she cleans just to get out of the house. I'd brought my laptop with me and just chilled in an office. Is there anyone else in the room with you atm? What are they doing? Just my snake. She's just chillin' in one of her hides.

What is something that you plan to buy, as soon as you’ve saved up the money for it? I want Teddy's tribute tattoo literally ASAP. Sara's handwriting on my boob just ain't it lmfao What kind of deodorant do you use? Some Secret scent, I don't look. Your first serious relationship, do you still talk to him/her? No. Is there anything too serious to be joked about? Absolutely. Off the top of my head, don't you fucking dare joke about rape or molestation with me, ESPECIALLY if it involves a child. I honest to god would fucking deck you. Some things simply are not in any way funny. Does ketchup really belong on mac & cheese? I've never tried it and never will, it sounds disgusting. What’s one fruit you love in drinks? Strawberries. What is something simple that you’re afraid of? Talking on the phone. Do you have any nieces or nephews? Describe them. I have a lot, but since these are the only ones I see frequently/know well, I'll just say a little bit about my immediate older sister's kids: Aubree is bright, quiet, shy, loving, and a deep thinker. She gets frustrated easily when she doesn't understand something. Ryder is VERY active, pretty much deafeningly loud, full of energy, and loves to show off in that endearing way children do when they think they can do something even remotely cool. Emerson is super silly, a total daddy's girl, and she loves to help and be included. She's glued to her big brother's hip. I love them all so, so much. What is one thing you have in common with your mother? We both care A LOT about other people and never let those we love suffer alone. Is there a small, local shop that you enjoy going to? What types of things do they sell? No. Who is a coworker from the past that you miss? Why did you enjoy their presence so much? I've never really worked long enough to answer this. What is something that somebody else introduced to you, that you ended up falling in love with? Who made the introduction? What is it that you love about this particular thing? HA, the whole Silent Hill franchise tops the list, eeeeeeasy. I watched Jason play the first game and got totally obsessed. I just love how creative it is and how the whole big idea is you can't run from your past if you haven't made peace with it, because it will always follow you otherwise. I could literally write an essay on why I love the series so much, I'm restraining myself lol. What are some things that make you feel peaceful? Birdsong, wind chimes, flowing water, rustling leaves in a breeze... really mostly nature sounds, now that I'm thinking about it. Name something that reminds you of your grandparents. Disney World is one, 'cuz my maternal grandma (the only grandparent I ever *really* knew) worked there. Does a male or female sing the last song you listened to? Male. Are you listening to music now? If so what song? Yeah, "Eifersucht" by Rammstein is on atm. What is the most expensive thing you’ve ever bought? My snake. Or my Mark tattoo? Idr. Are you on speaking terms with your parents? Yep. What are your feelings on feminism? You CANNOT look at the world today and DARE to say it is not 100% VITAL. Some people do take it too far, but for the most part, feminism MUST exist and be fought for. Do you think an opinion deserves respect just by virtue of being an opinion? Sure don't. Some opinions are just fucking vile. Can you honestly say that you always practice safe sex? Once we start doing that, it's going to be an absolute necessity. I WILL NOT take that shit lightly because I am fucking not getting pregnant. Are you more sympathetic towards animals or humans? Oh, animals for sure. Is there anything you want to live to tell your grandchildren? I'm not going to have kids to even have kids of their own. If you could be reborn, what would you be reborn as? Hm, maybe a wild lioness. Does the person you love/like have any pets? Yeah, a pit/shepherd mix named Charlie. Are you more attracted to men or women? I'm attracted to both, but I think I tend to experience attraction more often with men. Have you ever been told you were a good writer? Yeah, that's probably what I've been complimented on most. Have you ever been on a farm? Yes. How many times can you honestly say you’ve been in love? Twice. What if your ex says to you, “Why did you let me go?” I would lose my FUCKING MIND if Jason had the absolute audacity to say that, but I can pretty fucking confidently say he wouldn't. Like I genuinely don't know exactly how I'd react other than laughing my absolute ass off in total disbelief that came out of his mouth. How many people have told you they were in love with you? One with certainty. I don't know if Girt has said those exact words? Sara was never completely sure. Have you chewed gum after someone else already has? Uh, EW? No? What was the last song you listened to that made you cry? The acoustic version of "Eternally Yours" by MiW. Your ex REALLY needs you at 3am and you have a way to their house would you go? I don't see how my presence would help him, so no, honestly. I'd feel like I was being disloyal to Girt just by showing up there. What I WOULD do is have an emotional breakdown over it, though. Does the thought of marriage scare you? No, it never has. Would your parents get mad if you got drunk while they were present? No. Do you know anyone who suffers from depression? I know multiple, including myself. How much older/younger than you was the person you lost your virginity to? N/A Any sexual stuff happen in the past two months? Yes. Have you ever made a sex tape? That's an absolute no, I never would. Have you ever considered being a cop? Nope. Do you get high a lot? I never do. Where do you want to live when you are older? Ugh, take me back to the woods in the middle of nowhere, PLEASE. Are you into bondage? It's not something I've tried and am not horribly interested. Have you ever been bitten by a dog? No. If you could go back and redo things with your last ex, would you? No. Do your parents have Facebook accounts? Only my mom does. Do you remember who you liked in grade eight? I actually don't think I liked anyone. Are you dressing up for Halloween this year? Almost positive no. I just don't have a reason to anymore. Girt and I have instead planned to play the Resident Evil 2 remake; he is not fond of horror games and won't play them himself, but he seems to kinda like watching me do it. Does/did either of your parents serve in the military? No. Do you like sour candy? I LOVE sour candy. What was the last reason you went to the doctor for? I actually just went yesterday to get my ears cleaned; I had a blockage in my left ear from just earwax. That's what happens when you overuse q-tips, kids. I was just pushing shit back. Have you ever used the app Duolingo to learn a language? No; I use an app called Readle to learn German. Do you enjoy blueberry muffins? Love. Would you rather plant a vegetable or flower garden? Oh, flowers for sure. Do you think Bigfoot is real? Meh, probably not. Or at least, sasquatches no longer exist. Do you think you could win a cooking competition? What would you cook if you were in one? HELL no. How long could you run before getting winded? I am almost 100% certain I can't run at all. My legs are too weak; my knees would immediately give out. Have you ever been arrested? No. Who is your best online friend? Where does he/she live? Tez (Oregon) and Mazzy (Nevada) are tied as my best friends. What fandoms would you consider yourself a part of? Oh god, there's a lot. Rammstein, Markiplier + some other YouTubers, Silent Hill, World of Warcraft, Wings of Fire, and more. Your ex calls wanting to hang out. What do you say? No. Do you think your ex will ever want to be with you again? No. Where would you rather live: England or Australia? England. As much of an animal lover as I am, Australia has some WILD shit goin on over there with the wildlife lmao. I ain't built for finding a huntsman spider in my shoe. Do you own a wok? No. What are your career goals? I just wanna be a photographer, man. Showcase the greatest sights in nature. Something you are working on right now: Sigh, losing weight. My fucking weight jumped up like three pounds at the doctor today only since like maybe two weeks ago and I am VERY confused on how and EXTREMELY frustrated. It might just be normal fluctuations, sure, but I just want the fucking numbers to keep going DOWN, not up again. How much does your mother know about your sex life (or lack thereof)? Very little/practically none, save for that I'm NOT currently having sex and never have. I am extremely uncomfortable talking about this topic with my mom of all people. Have you ever used fake tan? OH MY GOD so in high school I went through a streak of putting this tanning lotion on my legs because I was self-conscious of them. Looking back I sure was talented at not blending that shit out well, ha ha. Are any of your siblings married? What are their spouses’ names? Yes; various sisters have husbands by the names of Nick, Josh, and Franky. My only brother's wife is Chelsey. Does your father have any creepy or scary friends you don’t like? Ugh, he did once when my parents were still together. Van was his name. Weird dude. Are you attracted to the last person that you fell in love with? Yes. Is it important to be on a similar intelligence level as the person you’re with? I personally don't think so. What’s your favorite Ben & Jerry’s flavor? PHISH FOOD, FUCK ME UP Were you a planned child? I... think? Would you ever get an eyebrow piercing? If I didn't have glasses, I would actually get one. So, what are your plans for the near future (a year)? I would LOVE to just have a fucking income. Even just a TINY one with pictures every now and again, maybe. I hope I'm way smaller weight-wise and for the love of FUCKING GOD I hope my legs have improved considerably. I DO NOT know how I'm still walking at all, it is pure fucking determination. What’s something you wish you’d never seen or heard? Ha ha I'm sure there are technically worse things, but the first thing that came to me was knowing botflies exist and seeing one pulled from a man's back (on video, anyway). I would rather fucking DIE. Who was the last person you saw a movie at the cinema with? Who paid? Girt, and me because it was my date idea for us. He typically pays for everything and I HATE it so I used some money I had left over. Do you message friends and family on Facebook regularly? Not really... but I probably should more. Name three countries you would love to visit. South Africa, Germany, and maybe Scotland. Do you still have a landline phone in your home? No, we haven't for a very long time. What is your favourite brand of shoes? Not really. Have you ever built a snowman? I have. (: I have great childhood memories making them with my sisters and dad while Mom would be inside making hot chocolate or snow cream. Snow days as a kid were the ABSOLUTE best. Have you ever had something signed by someone famous? What and who? No.

#survey #surveys #random surveys #random questions

[seriesxwriting]

Always been you.

Y/n x Rafe Cameron <3

Series- outerbanks

Warnings- making out, swearing. Tops removed?

Summary- you and Rafe are always arguing because you secretly like each other. So Sarah and Wheezie make up a plan and lock you in a room together. Alone ;).

He’s so hot wtf😭

<3-

“Morning y/n, come in” Sarah opened the door smiling at me. She was in a bright outfit matching her bright smile when she saw me.

As soon as I stepped in to her mansion I saw Rafe coming towards us on his phone completely oblivious.

“So y/n You wanna go up to my room or something else” Sarah asked me taking my bag.

We were having a sleep over, usually we didn’t do it at her house because me and Rafe did not get on but it was getting boring at mine.

Rafes head snapped up as soon as he heard my name.

“Well well well, Sarah you didn’t tell me we were having a guest”. I know Sara wanted me to get on with Rafe but i could help it. He was so annoying but he’s so hot which made him even more annoying. And he knew it.

“That’s because I didn’t want to see you” I answered with an eye roll. We never got on we we’re always arguing and I know Sarah hated it and I tried but I always failed. “Can you both cut it out, just not today okay?” She asked walking into the kitchen.

“You staying around then” “none of your business” I folded my arms leaning on one leg.

“You can stay in my bed”

“I’d rather drown than be one of those girls in your bed Rafe Cameron” I started walking away from him but he grabbed my wrist

“I could make you scream that name” he whispered in my ear letting go of my wrist. I pushed him listening to the giggle

“your disgusting Cameron, rather drown!” I reminded him while following Sarah into the kitchen.

“Help your self if your hungry” she slid over a cup of tea she’d just made me. “I’m alright for now but I will have a few shortbreads thank you” I winked at her taking the box from the cupboard. “DID I hear shortbreads?” Rafe shouted from the front room before we heard what sounded like a stampede of elephants running towards us.

“Rafe! Fuck sake” Sarah spat putting her hand on her hips. “There mine I don’t want you to have them” “grow up you baby I just want one or two”

“Okay would you like me to have one or two of your biscuits” he frowned at me. “No Because you would even share yours!” I swinted my eyes at him. “Thats not what I asked… y/n” “what’s that supposed to mean? Huh I answered the question”.

Sarah snatched the biscuits of me and threw them in the bin in anger.

“SHUT UP! No one gets them, Rafe just leave us alone” she pointed to the door which Rafe used to exit after throwing me one last immature look. I wanted to say something but I’d pissed Sarah off enough and I felt bad.

Wheezie appeared in the door frame staring at us confused.

“Do I wanna know what that shouting was about?”

“Your idiot immature childish brother” I folded my arms with a huff.

Wheezie looked at her sister with a knowing look “w-what?” I asked uncomfortable. She giggled while Sarah hid her smile “it’s nothing really, wanna go and sun bathe now?” Sarah grabbed my arm taking me outside in a hurry like Wheezie was gonna spill some secret or something.

We were out there for a while gossiping, Rafe only bothered us once but I did well when ignoring him.

“Come on, Wheezie wants to show us something” Sarah jumped up off the sun bed staring at her phone screen. “What? Can’t she bring it down here” “no come on” she laughed taking my hand and pulling me up.

I followed my best friend up past rafes room to Wheezies who was next to hers. I could here him listening to music. “Get Rafe for me, no arguing” Wheezie pointed when we walked in there. I assumed she was talking to her sister but Sarah nodded for me to go.

“Really? Fine!” I sighed walking to his door hesitating before knocking.

“What” he groaned, I pushed the door open a bit just sticking my neck in “god your so rude, Wheezie wants you”

“get out of my room”

“I’m hardly in your room jeez!” I was cut off by Sarah saying sorry to me then shoving my surprised body into rafes room and she locked the door. I hit floor quite hard and Rafe ran over leaping off his bed like he was doing a high jump. “you alright?” He stuck his hand out. “I don’t need your help thanks” I said in a horrible tone while sitting up holding my hip.

“Fine” he rolled his eyes and tried the door.

There was no luck we were officially locked in together

“your not coming out until you’ve sorted it out” sarah shouted through the key hole.

“SARAH LET ME OUT please I can’t stand being alone with him!” I banged on the door after standing up “she’s gone y/n will you stop screaming” Rafe rolled his eyes plopping back on the bed seeming pretty calm.

“W- this isn’t pissing you off?” “No but you are” he said not even looking at me but staring at his phone. “Right” I folded my arms getting even more pissed off.

I went and took a seat on his chair because i wasn’t gonna sit on that bed with him. “Did I say you can sit down?” He side looked me for a second.

“Shut up” “I’ll shut you up” he answered really fast almost like he knew I was gonna say that.

“You know I bet you haven’t actually slept with that many girls everyone repulsed by you” I told him with a smiled “Mmh sure y/n” Rafe smirked to himself. “I mean I’ve seen you talk to them but you never go anywhere with girls at party’s or something you never take them home”

“I wouldn’t go to my house with some random slut y/n” Rafe told me looking at his phone still. “I’d never sleep with some random girl in my bed” he explained more deeply. “Have you even actually liked anyone or you always been a man whore?”

“Mmh”. I rolled my eyes giving up and turning back around, Rafe noticed and didn’t like it. “There was this one girl I liked, I gave her all my attention but she never picked up on anything so I gave up… became a man whore as you would say”. I turned my chair around noticing he’d looked at me now.

“Well what happened then?” “Nothing, pretty sure she hates me now” he shrugged.

“Well I’m sorry… but Rafe can you turn your shit music off please” “it’s not shit” he laughed switch it off.

“Yes it is”

“why don’t you sing for me then” he raised his eyebrows at me.

“Fuck off! I cant sing” “I’ve spent enough time around you to know you can sing y/n” Rafe giggled with shining eyes.

Something went warm inside of me, knowing Rafe actually payed attention to me a bit

“can I use your phone charger?” “It’s over here” he nodded to the other side of the bed. “Well then forget I asked” “y/n” Rafe rolled his eyes. I sat there thinking about it for a second before getting up and taking a seat next to him.

“What about you, last person you liked?” Rafe asked a minute or two later.

“We’re not talking about my love life” I laughed gently whacked him not even looking at him. “Ow” he nudged me back. “That didn’t hurt!” I pushed him harder. “Push me again you will regret it y/l/n”

( yeah you guessed it) I pushed him again.

Rafe grabbed my wrists flipping me I was on my back and he was over the top of me we had mad eye contact. He stared at me holding my wrists above my head. We didn’t say anything. Silence.

“Why were we arguing?” I asked him

“the first time why was it?”, Rafe licked his lips which wondering eyes.

“I beat up some boy you were seeing… like two years ago” “…no I wasn’t seeing him Rafe we broke up and you two we’re friends, why did you go and beat him up”.

Rafe swallowed before looking back at me. “Because He cheated on you” “w- y- what? why didn’t you just tell me” “because break ups are painful let alone knowing he cheated on you… plus it was sorted I got him good” “but I wouldn’t have been pissed at you if you’d just told me” I explained sliding out from underneath him but staying in front, just sitting up now.

“…But you would have been in more pain” Rafe shook his head.

That was when I realised Rafe was human, and he has feeling he cared about me and my feelings.

“I’m sorry I’ve been such a bitch”

“not your fault” Rafe smirked. “What I still don’t get us why you did that for me? I thought we hated each other it was our little thing”.

Rafe shrugged backing off now. “If you hate me y/n then..” he went to get up but I pulled him back “I don’t” “try telling your actions that” he sniggered going to get up again but I pulled him back this time on to my lips.

Rafe didn’t take anytime to adjust and pushed me back on to the bed.

Climbing back over on top of me holding my face close. I was making out with fucking Rafe Cameron. My best friends brother, my enemy. The guy I liked.

“I happen to have through about it a lot and this is not how I pictured it going down” he whispered when we pulled away to catch our breath. “I was so scared you were gonna pull away and scream at me then” I grabbed his hand putting it on my beating heart.

Rafe shook his head, cutely laughing before kissing my hand “how long?” I asked softly

“what?” “How long have you wanted to do that”.

Rafe screwed his face up thinking for a second

“Since I learnt was kissing was” he looked back down at me.

We’d known each other obviously for a long time our families are friends and we practically grew up together. “We learnt about kissing in like… year six” “I know” he kissed me softly again. Just quickly before staring at my face which was confused.

“It’s always been you y/n- always”.

With that I kissed him again, my arms flew up to his chest undoing his buttons and removed his shirt and chucked it on his floor. He did the same to mine it landed god knows where, our lips had just reached each other’s when the door unlocked and swung open.

“…Well I never” Sarah smirked folding her arms skipping inside and leaning on the wall.

“I guess Wheezie wins the bet, you did fuck”

“if you get out then we might get a chance” Rafe rolled his eyes.

“You bet on us?! Anyway Sorry Cameron.. moments gone” I pushed him off the bed jokingly and he fell slightly watching me while I walked around looking for my top. “Looking for this babe?” Rafe held it up swinging it about, still sitting on the floor.

I walked over to him with Sarah and Wheezie giggling.

“So… you’ll call me?” He asked holding the top away from me with a smirk. I too had one perched on my face.

Snatching it off the boy I nodded “yes Cameron I’ll call you” i detained my self from laughing while walking out and putting my top back on.

Closing the door softly behind me.

“We’re so smart” Wheezie giggled shrugging.

“Mmh why’s that” I frowned with folded arms, “we were talking about it the other day… about how you two just need to fuck” Sarah sorted out my messed up hair.

“Mmh very funny girls very funny” I walked away from them. “At least you won’t be arguing anymore” Wheezie shouted after me.

“No…We’ll be making out” Rafe leant against his door frame. He winked at me with his little cheeky grin.

<3--

#netflix #outer banks #fyp #writing #imagines #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron #writers on tumblr #short storys #rafe x you #rafe x female!mc #rafe x y/n #rafe x reader #rafe x oc #rafe fluff #rafe fic #rafe smut #rafe imagine #outerbanks rafe #outer banks imagine #rafe fanfiction #rafe obx #rafe angst #outer banks rafe #obx fluff #drew starkey #obx fic #obx fandom #outer banks fluff

[cantalouupe]

curiosity

nsfw!!! kaeya x f!reader

prequel to this drabble

hand & finger kink, semi public sex except you don’t have sex with him he just makes you suck on his fingers

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The knights of Favonius weren’t a group of people you mingled with. While you had no quarrels with any of them and had even spoken to some before, they just weren’t people that you considered friends.

There was nothing you held against them, no vendetta you had. Your feelings of them were just neutral. Pleasant conversations are easy to have with the ones stationed around town, where they’re willing to help you with really anything you need.

That’s probably why you’ve never really had to interact much with them. You’ve never been in danger and so help from them wasn’t something you had to seek out.

The higher ups, though, were a different story. You’ve also not interacted with any of them, but heard of them incredibly often, seen the outrider around town.

But that was all.

You had understood they were busy with all their work and obviously didn’t expect them to come out just so they can talk to you, a random citizen - still, you were curious. With all the big talk of them they were bound to be quite an interesting few people.

Sara, who worked at The Good Hunter - a little restaurant near the center fountain in town that served amazing food - had told you about them. The interesting honorary knight that travels with a little fairy in search for his sister, the outrider that you’ve seen before, the librarian who apparently was incredibly intimidating when you don’t return books, and even Jean, the acting grand master. You’ve heard about all of them, your curiosity causing you ask around for stories.

The first time you met any of them was on a sunny day, not unlike any other. You were out on the trail, foraging mushrooms as per Sara’s request, when you ran into a suspicious looking group of hilichurls. The odd creatures were entranced by an odd looking sigil on the ground that glowed a faint purple.

You had chosen to mentally mark where you were and turn back to go to town and report it. Hilichurls close to town was already a safety hazard, but them acting the way they were felt off and made a pit of worry grow in your stomach.

The guards at the doors of the Knights of Favonios Headquarters had questioned what you needed when you ran up, and you explained the situation, requesting to speak to Jean if possible.

Guilt ate at you when you pushed despite them telling you she was busy with work already. “I really would like to speak to her directly,” you told them.

They were going to shut you down again, but from behind them the door opened and out came an infamous face.

Of the many people you’d been told about, the Cavalry Captain was among them. Kaeya was very popular in town, apparently appeared at the tavern on most nights to chat with the townspeople. There was a lot of mystery shrouding him and his backstory but despite that he was a favorite of many people.

He looked as he’s been described to you, with dark hair and tanned skin, one eye covered with a black eye patch. His bare eye, beautiful and piercing blue met yours and you looked away immediately, feeling as though you were seeing a myth in the flesh.

“Like I said,” your eyes, probably a little wide from seeing the captain, fell back to the two guards you’d been talking to. “I think it’s a good idea if I talked to Jean directly.”

You hadn’t meant to alert Kaeya as he was leaving the Knights Headquarters but he seemed to hear, voicing out an “is everything okay?” as he approached the three of you.

“I’m not trying to be any trouble,” you tell him once the situation was explained.

He watched you shrink slightly under his gaze, pretty eyes staring up at him - and shook his head. “It’s understandable to want to report something like that immediately. I can take you to her.”

Obviously he had some sort of authority over the guarding knights because they had nothing to say about that, stepping back to their spots on either side of the stone stairs leading to the building.

You mentally let out a breath and nodded up at the blue haired male, thanking him quietly and apologizing again for making a fuss.

“Come on now,” he smiled down at you, calming your nerves a bit. “Stop apologizing for trying to keep Mondstadt safe. If anything we should be apologizing to you for not catching it before you did.”

The short walk inside the Knights Headquarters was quiet, and you took the few silent moments as a chance to get a better look at Kaeya. It was weird seeing him in front of you after only hearing about him for so long.

His clothes were much different from the other knights, from the fur on the shoulder to the color of the clothing. A small blue glowing charm hung from the side of his hip - that’s right, he had a vision.

When he opened the door to Jean’s office, you caught sight of his fingers that peaked out of dark gloves. Fingerless gloves?

“Are you going to come inside?”

Oh no, you weren’t standing here gawking at his hands, were you? You blinked at him like a deer in headlights and you wanted to melt into the floor at the amusement written on his face.

You ducked your head in embarrassment, slipping passed him silently.

Your shame was short lived, however, when you stepped into the room and saw Jean. Now you knew for a fact awe was visible on your face. It’s not every day that you get to see the grand acting master herself.

She was kind and genuinely concerned about you after you ran through the scene you saw for a third time in that day. The abyss order have been causing some trouble for the knights and they had been trying to track down more about them and their plans. What you saw didn’t give away much but Jean reiterated that it was an important bit of information and she thanked you for coming to her for it.

You preened at that, glad you could be of help to her.

Before you left, she thanked you again and assured you that you didn’t need to worry, the knights would take care of it.

And that was the end of it. Nothing else regarding that situation happened and life returned to normal.

The next time you ran into one of them it was at The Good Hunter. You were chatting with Sara while waiting for your food to finish cooking when a very familiar pair on hands came to lean against the counter you ordered at, with a very familiar voice accompanying them.

“I’ve been wondering about you,” Kaeya muses.

Wondering about you? You had to take a moment to process that, forcing out a small “Why?” to which he didn’t respond.

“Eat with me,” he responds instead, smiling at you and he is nice and a knight so who are you to decline.

So, you two eat together. He’s just as charming as people have mentioned, voice smooth and easy to listen to. By your wonder, he tells you in more detail about the Knights of Favonius, and you soak up his words like a sponge.

He is able to describe specific stories that you didn’t otherwise know about, along with other people that you hadn’t heard much about.

You find it fascinating and ask more specific questions - about visions. He answers every inquiry thats thrown at him, about his own cryo power and that of others in Mondstadt.

“Does the fingerless gloves have something to do with your element?” You ask him, and he laughs lightly at you.

“You like them, huh?”

Does he remember your lingering gaze on his hands at your last meeting? God, that’s mortifying. You hadn’t meant it to be a weird question.

When you gape at him, sputtering and trying to grasp a suitable response, he reaches out and taps a finger on the underside of your chin. “Cute,” he murmurs, before taking his leave, claiming he has work he should go attend to.

You stare at him while he leaves, reeling from his actions.

Things move more quickly after that.

You don’t know who really started it, but Kaeya’s hands become somewhat of a teasing point. It wasn’t a serious attraction at first but now his hands are the first thing your gaze catches on.

In turn, he’ll tease you for it, brushing the back of his knuckles against you or tapping a fingertip on you like he did that first time.

It boiled over one day in the Knights Library, you alongside him, curiously looking at all the different titles that were offered. Kaeya reaches out to grab a book and your eyes zero in on his hands.

Bare hands.

He wasn’t wearing those gloves today, skin fully on display and that shouldn’t be as important as it is but there you are, staring at them.

“You’re not-“

He has to know. Theres no way he accidentally forgot to wear them on a day he would be with you. Another tease, definitely.

“My gloves? Didn’t think you’d notice something like that.” Oh, he knows.

Cocky as ever, he taps his finger into your bottom lip - as he has before - and your mouth parts in response. An invitation.

The taste of clean skin bursts on your tastebuds, two of his fingers sliding inside.

“Ah, I knew it,” he murmurs, moving so you were situated in the corner of the wall and bookshelf, his body shadowing yours to shield you from any possible onlookers.

Your knees buckle from under you when he presses down onto your tongue, a whimper sounding from your throat.

“Look at you,” he coos, head leaning in so his lips brush against your ear. “How was I supposed to hold myself back when you want this so bad?”

Your hands find purchase on his biceps, gripping them to ground yourself while he rubs the pads of his fingers against your tongue. Saliva pools and threatens to spill over your lip, and Kaeya knows it, fingers moving so that it drips down out of your mouth and onto your chin.

“You know,” he starts again, fingers sinking deeper into your mouth as his other spare hand wraps loosely around your waist. “If you’re so good like this I can’t imagine what it’ll be like when I fuck you.”

Another noise leaves you, fingers digging into his arms. Your head knocks back into the wall right behind you and your eyes flutter.

You feel lucky that you cant speak because you know you wouldn’t be able to trust yourself to not beg him to fuck you right here in the library.

It feels filthy, the drool on your chin and his breath against the side of your face while he tells you these things. You felt hot and if your eyes were opened your pupils would be blown out.

“You’ll have to come see me some time, so I can really take you apart with my fingers.”

#drabble #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #kaeya genshin impact #kaeya x reader #kaeya smut

[crescentsteel]

Keeping a Secret - Part 4

pairing: Tsukishima x f!manager of Sendai Frogs genre: sexual tension/crack/fluff/slow burn wc: 7.6k

[a/n]

Let me know if you want to be part of the taglist uwu

AO3

Part 3 || Part 5 || masterlist

Tsukishima might not like you, but at least you unspokenly agreed on how to treat the strange tension from last time’s meeting: ignore it. 

No one dared mention it. Since he arrived a while ago, no one talked unless needed. It’s not like the air is awkward, it’s just silent, devoid of last time’s weird shenanigan as you continued on with the unfinished assignment from his previous visit.

“I assume you’re done from how you’re spacing out at nothing,” he reprimands.

You flinch and realize that you’ve been staring at the wall behind Tsukishima. 

“Oh, uhhh.” You check your laptop to see your progress and surprisingly, you really are done. Your brain must have shut down on it’s own when it registered that you’re finished with your work for the day.

“Yep!” You snicker proudly at him. “Are we going to watch crocodiles doing the nasty now?” you ask him with eager interest.

You really have a way with words that always throws him off-guard, yet instead of scowling at you, he just gives out a resigned sigh. He knows you aren’t trying to irk him. That’s just how you really are.

It’ll be better for his sanity to just tolerate your and leave you be than drive himself to the brink of madness.

“Yeah,” he responds thriftly.

You giddily scurry over at his side of the table and comfortably seat yourself beside him. You hug your knees as he prepares several videos from BBC Earth and Nat Geo Wild that shows and explains crocodile mating behavior. He turns up the volume of his laptop to its loudest so you can both hear the audio clearly.

In the second video, the voice-over explains the kinds of display reptiles make to attract their potential mate. His eyes glance at you briefly. Not that he’s complaining about it, but you’re acting unusually docile today . You’ve been mostly quiet ever since he arrived.

It’s all good until he hears a wheezing noise that sounds all too real and all too weird for it to come from the video.

He looks to you and immediately finds the culprit.

Your lips are parted with your neck extended forward and your chin tilted up a bit while you produce guttural sounds, making it seem like you’re choking.

“What are you doing?”

You face him, still looking like an idiot as you continue making a sound he’s never heard of with the same absurd upper body posture. He looks at you with abhorrence when he starts to realize what you’re doing. 

Are you actually trying to imitate a crocodile bellowing for a mate?

You sit up straight and beam at him with pride. “How’s that for a mating call?”

If he were a male crocodile, he’d find another estuary to escape away from that horrible sound you were producing. “You sound like you’re dying,” he says as he remembers how it seemed like you were hoarsely scratching your vocal cords together.

“Wait, wait. Lemme try again,” you announce with determination, which he finds pointless and  totally unnecessary. He doesn’t care if you successfully do it. He even prefers you stop trying at all.

Yet, you still pressed on. You resume your earlier actions, looking even more ridiculous as you start to sound and look like a seagull squawking repeatedly. 

He should be irritated since you’re wasting time. Instead, he puts a fist over his mouth, attempting to hold back a snort. You don’t seem to notice because your eyes are on the laptop as you keep trying to replicate what you’re seeing on screen. 

When you actually start choking, he lets out the laugh that he’s been holding in which makes you look at him. You try to speak but it comes out distorted as you’re still coughing from your mating call attempt.

“You look like an idiot.” He laughs harder when regret surfaces on your eyes while clearing your throat.

He recovers from his outburst of laughter at the same time you manage to soothe your voice back to normal. He’s expecting you to be embarrassed from the stunt you tried to pull, which you appear to be seeing as you’re  covering your face with your palms. You don’t seem to be upset though because he can hear your muffled giggles.

You quickly remove your hands and face him. “I was sure I could do it, okay? You didn’t have to laugh that hard!” Despite the pout you show him, your eyes twinkle with levity as you hold his stare.

How the fuck you can you be so weird but still so pretty at the same time? 

No wonder you have the rest of them wrapped around your pretty little finger. You just flash them that delightful smile of yours and you completely have them under your spell.

But not him, of course. Definitely not him.

Also, he tries to convince himself, he didn’t think you were pretty at all.

He’s just looking from the perspective of his teammates on why they adore you so much. Nothing more, nothing else. 

To him, you’re still the irksome manager he knows you are. This set-up is just temporary. He’ll never forget how you really are - overbearing, cunning, and infuriating. This strangely charming  attitude you’re showing him is just because of the temporary ceasefire between the both of you, and this easy, comfortable atmosphere is just born out of necessity. When this project is finished, you’ll be back to the real you. So he shouldn’t be wasting his time reading into whatever’s happening between you two.

“Should we continue watching?” you ask him lightheartedly as you hug your knees again, softly leaning your head against them.

The nerve of you to ask that. You’re the one who disrupted the videos, not him. He should be the one berating you to get back to the project instead of you pleasantly asking him to continue where you left off. 

“You’re the one who interrupted the whole thing in the first place,” he spats rather than answering your question, wishing you’d retort with something stupid so he can go back loathing you silently.

Instead, you simper apologetically and mutter a timid, “My bad.”

Then you extend your arm to his laptop and rewind to where the video was before you distracted him with your audacious growling.

During the remainder of the videos, he glances every once in a while to check if you’re going to do something distracting again. Fortunately, (or unfortunately, he can’t tell anymore which is worse) you stay well-behaved and entirely focused on the documentary with your arms wrapped around your tucked legs tucked and your chin resting to your knee.

When the documentaries end, he pulls up the video he took with your phone from your crocodile farm trip. Compared to the produced output you’d just gone through, the amateur video he captured at the farm is evidently not as exciting to watch. The quality is not that great because his hand had been shaky while filming it. He remembered not looking at the screen of your phone while filming it because he had been looking at you. 

Rather than noticing that aspect of the video, you comment about the audio.  “I can’t hear anything from the breeding pen. I only hear my voice and Sara’s.”

He’s about to reason out that you’re talking non-stop but he immediately realizes that it’s not necessarily a bad thing because you were asking Sara questions related to the project at that time.

“I want to hear them growling,” you declare. 

“I’m not sure they even were. This is an artificial environment for crocodiles. Also, we’re a bit far from them,” he explains. 

You face scrunches up with disapproval. “Why didn’t you just zoom the camera in?”

His jaw drops from how appallingly dim-witted your question is. He’d think you were kidding but you look genuinely upset because you can’t hear the sounds you heard from the videos earlier. 

First of all, just like he said, they might not even be making sounds at all. Secondly, your phone, despite being a good model, wouldn’t be able to miraculously capture sounds even if he zoomed it outrageously close to the reptiles. Lastly and most importantly, are you actually that dumb?

He doesn’t even know how to condense all his thoughts properly and convey how revolted he is from the amount of brainlessness you can put in one simple question that’s less than ten words. 

Your eyes go wide when it finally hits you too.

“Oh God,” you mutter weakly as you put two palms to cover the lower half of your face. 

You two share the same expression of disgust as you realize how stupid you sounded while you hold his gaze. 

You press your lips together in a thin line then bust your gut out with an uproar laugh that fills your room. You tug the sleeve of his shirt as you look at him with glossy eyes.

“I’m a dunce,” you admit with trails of laughter still seeping from your voice.

“Glad to know I’m not the only one who thinks so,” he says with half-hearted insult as he’s still figuring out if he did something or is it your own stupidity that’s causing your outburst.

You bite your trembling lips in an attempt to fend off another laugh, but fails to do so when you clutch his arm tighter and another round of jovial laugh escapes from your mouth.

You try to form a phrase but it’s drowned out by your own cackles. Still, he catches on with what words you manage to utter. 

You are laughing at yourself. 

He always thought you liked making fun of others because you’re always simpering every time someone’s at your mercy -- those boys who relentlessly try to hit on you; any member of the team who gets flustered when you praise them; and him, especially him, who seems to be your personal favorite person to pick on. 

Yet, he’s never seen you this elated before, with your face scrunched up as you go hysterical from your own silliness. 

He can’t help but think that maybe he misunderstood you a little bit. You’re not actually a pompous bitch. You’re just a crackhead who finds joy in the littlest, most foolish things.

“I swear to God, Tsukishima. Our university is in ruin for making me a goddamn scholar.” You let go of his arm and sniffle while wiping your tears of joy.

When you look up to him, your face is glowing. Your cheeks are flushed, your eyes are gleaming at him effervescently, and your smile is not as annoying as it used to be. 

Objectively speaking, it’s similar to your usual ones, except it’s also totally different. He can’t really fully grasp why but there’s something about it that distinguishes it from all the others he’s seen from you.

He must have been peering at you more than necessary because your smile dissolves gradually while your mirthful expression turns into a puzzled one. 

You’ve been trying to ignore the thought, but Tsukishima is definitely acting weird today; weird because he’s not as mean as he usually is. 

Well, duh. You do have some sort of agreement for him to tone it down. Still, you didn’t expect he’d do it this well. Even when he was laughing at you earlier, it wasn’t as demeaning as it should have been.

And to make you even more puzzled, right now, he’s just staring blankly at you. 

Generally, Tsukishima’s empty glares at you are not really empty. They contain inhibited disdain which he has not failed to show you over the years you’ve been their manager. Even when he’s actually trying not to let it show, you still easily see through him. 

But at this moment, you have no idea what’s going on in his head. His eyes are studying you quietly and you return his stare, trying to figure out what he could possibly be thinking. 

You’re about to ask him what’s wrong but as soon as you open your mouth, a familiar glint surfaces on his face as his gaze drops on your lips.

If the latter parts of the previous meeting were awkward, this one goes beyond awkward.

There is an abrupt drop of weight that looms across the whole room, a weight so heavy that you find it difficult to breathe. The room is spacious enough for two, but you feel like it’s too cramped up all of a sudden. 

It’s an all too familiar feeling that you did not anticipate would ever come back. In fact, it should not be back at all. 

It is as exciting as it is terrifying when you realize: you want to kiss him. 

You previously justified your actions as something sort of a ‘one time madness’ and. until now, you were sure it was just that. It was a whim brought by his sudden closeness fueled by the atmosphere of the club at the time. 

You were wrong.

Even at this dull, academic setting with him barely even touching you, you itch to feel him close. You want to relive the feeling of his body pressed against yours and his lips latched fervidly onto yours. 

Damn it. He should stop staring at you like he wants the same thing. It’s tempting you even more to give in to the urge even though you know you’ll regret it later.

But no, you really can’t. Once was enough. Twice will be a different story. 

You had assured him and yourself that it wouldn’t happen again. If you cross that line now, you’re going to have to admit the irrevocable fact that you’re attracted to him. 

You let out a shaky breath as you avert your gaze from his. 

You’re about to replay the video when you hear a sudden thud on the floor. You look back at him with worry only to see his hand slammed against the floor as he swiftly lunges forward to close the gap between you and him. 

His free hand goes to your chin and tilts it up as he crashes his lips on yours.

It’s just as you remember - calm yet impassioned, successfully sweeping away any incertitude you had about kissing him. Your mind is only filled with how good he feels as he impatiently drags his hand to your waist and tugs you closer. 

You wrap an arm around his neck to completely eliminate whatever space is left between your bodies. You grasp the back of his head as you return his kiss with the same ardor, your mouths naturally cascading against one another with a rhythm you two can perfectly understand and follow without any words needed.

When he sneaks his tongue in, you begin to forget what he is to you outside the confines of this room as you helplessly moan into his mouth.

You can tell he’s not doing so well either with how tight he’s grasping the small of your back as the intensity of the kiss grows with each ticking second. 

“Tsukishima,” you puff heavily as you withdraw away from him with half-lidded eyes, the feel of his lips still lingering on yours. 

You hope that the soft call of his name will be the voice of reason for him to stop kissing you. He needs to stop for you’re totally powerless to do it yourself. He needs to stop before it escalates into something else, something more.

Thankfully, he does stop. 

He takes a deep breath as his eyes travel from your lips up to your eyes, meeting your gaze to study the entirety of your features. 

He thought you were going to ask him to stop, hence the conflicted tone of your voice when you said his name. But the look on your face tells him otherwise. 

You like this as much as he does. He didn’t want to admit it last time, but fucking hell. You really do make a complete mess of his rational thinking with how good you taste, how your determined eyes mellow down within his embrace, and how you yield right on the first touch of his lips. 

He knows he should stop. It’s the perfect chance to do so. It shouldn’t matter how soft and pliant you are when pressed against him. It shouldn’t matter that you look like you want him to continue wherever this leads to.

But it does. He doesn’t want to stop, and he knows neither do you.

He grits his teeth in annoyance as he hisses at you, “Shut up.” 

Just like he did a while ago, he easily covers the tiny distance between your lips. He gets a little more greedy this time and slides his hand underneath your shirt, experimenting with what he can do to earn him another whimper from you. He’d like to revel on the sound of your meekness once again. 

It didn’t really take much. At the first contact of his palm on the bare skin of your waist, you instantly give him what he wants. 

Your soft moan fills his ears that he doesn’t hear the sudden clack of the door. 

“Y/n, did you do our - oh!”

You violently tug his head past the curve of your shoulder, making him take out his hand from your shirt and ram it against the floor to support himself. 

“Couldn’t you knock?” you ask breathlessly to whoever’s on the door.

He tries to free himself from you but judging from  how firm your grip is on his head, it doesn’t look like you want him to move from his current position. It doesn’t help that you’re almost choking him from how hard you’re pressing his neck against your collar bone. 

“I can’t breathe!” he whispers infuriatingly, but you don’t answer. You only clutch on his hair tighter.

“My bad, dude. I didn’t know you got yourself a boyfriend,” your friend says defensively. 

Out of all the possible times she could choose to come over, it had to be when you and Tsukishima were making out. You’re a tiny bit grateful for being stopped when neither of you wanted to, but more embarrassed that it was because your friend walked in on the scene. 

“Can you come back later?” you ask almost nervously, concerned that she might recognize that it’s Tsukishima leaning against you. She knows him because they used to have classes together last semester.

Your friend just shrugs it off and is about to close the door when her eyes catch Tsukishima’s jacket. Her eyes widen in shock when she sees the logo of the Sendai Frogs. 

“Holy shit! Are you dating one of your players?” She looks back at you incredulously. 

“Get out!” you yell out from agitation. 

She flinches from the sudden raise of your voice but is quick to understand that you need the privacy right now. “Okay, okay. I got it,” she mutters apologetically and whispers, “Sorry,” before she finally shuts the door.

You let out a sigh of relief when she leaves without figuring out that it was Tsukishima. As for him, he tears your hand away and faces you with fury seeping from his orbs. 

“Were you trying to kill me?!”

You dismiss his anger and regard him impassively. “Then would you have preferred your face being seen?”

“So what? It’s not like she knows me,” he leans forward towards you a bit to emphasize his point with the same angry tone.

With his face too close for comfort, you suddenly become aware of the fact that you’re still trapped between the arms planted on both sides of you. 

“Um, can you back off for a bit?” You turn away tensely, worried that you might want an encore of what your friend interrupted if you continue staring at him from this distance.

“Huh?” He sounds like he has no idea what you’re talking about so you place both hands on his chest to softly push him away.

He must have realized it then because he lifts himself off of you and sits back to upright. 

You try to settle down but to no avail. Your heart is still beating abnormally, despite being now  rid of your nosy friend and his dangerous proximity. The deafening silence rings in your ears and the air feels heavy again, your mind drifting dangerously back to the earlier events.

“This is your fault,” Tsukishima mumbles with a frown. 

You gasp at his audacity. “Excuse me? You’re the one who kissed me!” 

“Because you ...” he trails off before he could say what was going on in his head: because you looked so damn fascinating that he caved to his want for a repeat of that night. So it really is your fault. If you hadn’t kissed him back then, he wouldn’t have found out how exquisite it feels to have you succumb to him. Then, he wouldn’t have been tempted to kiss you at all. 

Shit. He sounds stupid, justifying his own reckless behavior. 

He looks down at your waist which he was just touching. If your friend hadn’t barged in, how far will you two have gone? 

He shudders at the thought. No. There was absolutely no fucking way you two would’ve done that. He won’t be able to stomach it if that happens. You might have been tolerable today, but that doesn’t mean he can stand the idea of going beyond making out with you. 

Did he just admit to himself that he doesn’t mind kissing you? 

“Because I what?” you ask him with an addled look. 

“Nothing,” he answers as he starts fixing his stuff. 

“Hey, what’re you doing? We still need to do a comparison write-up for the videos,” you say,  watching him pack up. 

“Let’s just pick up where we left off when we meet again.” He can’t be around you any longer today. You’re causing too much havoc to his usually sensible mindspace. 

“Aren’t we going to talk about what just happened?”

Not bothering to heed your question, he continues what he’s doing. After he puts the only remaining binder he has out back in his bag, he faces you. 

“No,” is his answer before he slings his bag over his shoulder and leaves your room. 

--

Damn that Tsukishima. 

As if you don’t have enough on your plate already, he adds another massive one on the pile. You wish you can just disregard it, push it at the back of your head like you did the first time. But you can’t. 

You were supposed to study the Lion’s new line, but you just end up zoning out every five minutes as the scene replays in your head. You even transferred to the lobby even though you hated working there just for a change of pace.

It turned out useless as people you know kept on stopping by for small chats. You couldn’t focus on the game footages which needs your full concentration to analyze.

So there you are, restless and distraught,  as you enter the gym with no printed output because you hadn’t accomplished anything at all.

Not that they need it today but you just generally like to have them ready in advance. You know your team. Almost everyone has their day jobs or are students like you. You don’t want to spring a hell load of reading material on them days away from the game. 

On top of that, you’re lagging behind the schedule you set for your project with the Tsukishima. No thanks to him for walking out the past two meetings.

“Do you have the profile of the Lions ready?” Coach Mira asks first thing when you get to her side. 

Great. Just great. You were hoping no one brings it up, but of course Coach has to. You did tell her you’d have it prepared by today.

“Sorry, Coach. I’ll have them ready by next training,” you quickly compromise for your setback. 

She swiftly turns to you with concern. “Are you sick?”

“Oh, no. I’m totally fine, Coach. Just had something to do last night,” you lie despite the guilt in your gut. The last time you were late with the team reports was when you became extremely sick. This time it’s because of some blonde guy that’s somewhere across the gym.

She breathes a relieved sigh. “Thank God. I don’t really mind them being not as early as usual. I just don’t want our trusted manager getting sick.”

Her small compliment makes you feel a bit better. “Thanks, Coach.” You give her a faint smile.

“Alright, can you toss to the spikers?”

You nod and quickly turn around, only to see the cause of your delayed work blocking your path. Typically, you’d say something but you’re too bothered with what happened that you just move sideways to avoid him. However, he moves in the same direction you do. So you go the opposite way again, only for him to follow. 

At this point, you couldn’t suppress the dry laugh that comes from how spectacularly ironic the scene is. 

You look up to him. “Tsukishima,” you call out as you give him that too sweet of a grin he hates so much. “I’d appreciate it if you use those blocking skills on the court instead of me, hmm?”

This is the you Tsukishima is very much aware of - detestable to the core. Yet, on top of his annoyance is relief. It’s reassuring to see that you’re still very much the manager he knows you are, not the somehow tolerable person he made out with last time.

So instead of answering, he does the usual and turns deaf ears at you. While you’re sneering at him, he moves further to the side and successfully gets past you. 

He’d tell you about his fix for the current dilemma you two are having, but with Coach within earshot, he’d rather not. He doesn’t want anyone, especially the team, knowing that you’re spending some time alone with him, let alone getting physical with him. He’ll never hear the end of it from them, so he’ll just text you later. 

--

You can’t believe Tsukishima actually suggested doing the project at their home. You don’t think he’s the kind of person who invites classmates to their house just because of school work. It is hard to imagine him introducing people to whoever he’s living with, let alone you.

Maybe they’re gone for the day. That’s why he invited you over. 

You ring the doorbell of the address he gave you. Quite soon enough, another tall blonde person opens the door. He must be another Tsukishima - a nice Tsukishima with a pleasant face that looks nothing like the permanent nonchalance plastered on the face of your middle blocker. 

“Yes?” the pleasant Tsukishima asks. 

You greet him with a warm smile. When you ask for the other Tsukishima you’re going to work with, his face noticeably lights up. “You’re looking for Kei?” he asks softly but with audible excitement. 

“Um, yeah. He asked me to come.” You’re very curious as to why he looks so pleased, but it’d be rude to ask him upfront when you just met him.

Before the guy in front of you can even answer, you already hear the voice of the one you’re looking for. 

“Let her in, Nii-chan.”

Nii-chan? Oh my God. That’s the cutest thing ever! You didn’t think Tsukki’s the kind of guy to address his older sibling like that. 

“I’m Akiteru by the way,” the older Tsukishima introduces himself as he opens the door for you.

“Y/n. here,” you respond delightfully then give him a gracious bow before entering. 

As you remove your shoes upon stepping inside, you already see Tsukki seated in the living room with his stuff set up. You don’t know if he’s started working on the project but he’s already focused on his laptop.  

You would've made yourself feel at home, but this is not solely his place. You don’t want to be impolite. 

“You can go join him, Y/n. I’ll go to my room now,” Akiteru kindly tells you and turns around. 

“Wait,” you blurt out.

He faces your way again. “Yeah?”

“Can I call you Aki-san? I don’t want to confuse you when I say ‘Tsukishima.’” 

He gently holds both your hands and pulls them up as he clasps them together with his.

“You can call me Aki-nii-chan if you want,” he says with a hopeful look on his face. You can tell he’s got the completely wrong idea about you and Tsukishima, which confirms your earlier assumption.

Yet instead of being uncomfortable, you find yourself amused. Tsukishima must have never brought a girl home before, thus the excitement and false assumption from Akiteru. 

“I think I like Aki-san better,” you respond respectfully, hoping that you don’t have to spell it out for him.

“Stop it. She’s just a classmate,” you hear Tsukishima say.

Akiteru lets go of your hand and laughs apologetically. “Sorry about that. I’ll leave you two alone now.” He smiles briefly at you and heads upstairs.

You walk towards Tsukishima and sit beside him. “What were you thinking inviting me over?” you instantly ask. You know he must already be aware of the possibility that his relatives would very likely  assume things, which was just proven true by Akiteru.

“As much I despise the idea of having you here, this is better than being in your place,” he says with his attention still on his laptop.

“How so?” You glance at his laptop and see that he’s working on a different subject than the one you have together. When notices it, he closes the tabs and faces you.

“We’re not completely alone here. We won’t get unwelcome urges.”

Oh dear Lord. So that’s what this is about. He thinks that being alone with you is the cause of it.

“I hate to remind you this, Tsukishima, but the first time we kissed was in the middle of a club packed with people. It’s not the place that’s the issue,” you emphasize the last sentence.

Before you went there, you decided to just accept the fact that you and Tsukishima have this uncanny attraction towards each other. The last meeting’s events were proof of that. Instead of getting all worked up trying to deny it or disregard it as something else, you just acknowledge it for what it really is. 

“Then what is?” Unlike you, he seems to entirely shut out the disturbing conclusion you came up with. That’s why he decided to meet here instead of your place despite whatever his family might think.

Too bad for him though, you’re about to break the news to him.

“We’re attracted to each other,” you declare without any reluctance.

“No,” he quickly rejects the notion. “I don’t care what you feel about me, but I am not in any way attracted to you,” he says every word with solid conviction that you’re not sure if it’s meant to convince you or himself.

“Right. Why did you kiss me last time then?” you counter.

“Whatever the reason is, that doesn’t mean I’m attracted to you. I tolerate you when we’re not in the gym. That’s the extent of what I feel for you.”

You sigh as you rub your face with your palms. “Why do you have to be such a fucking tsundere, Tsukki? I’m doing this for the both of us.”

His face contorts to one that’s filled with utter displeasure. “How the hell is this beneficial for us?”

“Hear me out and think about it before you say ‘no’ again,” you begin. “I think we should just give in to this weird thing going on between us.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You’re starting to get annoyed at this point. His denial of the situation is making him stupid. Does he think this is easy for you? You don’t want this either. But what can you do? The thick, unmistakable attraction is there.

For fuck’s sake, do you really have to spoonfeed it to him?

“Tsukishima Kei,” you let out one heavy puff before you say it. “You’re allowed to kiss me when it’s just the two of us,” you announce.

You’ve never felt more offended than when he looks utterly disgusted at your proposal. 

“Your head’s way too big from all the moronic ideas you're stuffing in it. Just because I initiated it last time doesn’t mean I want to do it again,” he utters each word with unrepressed contempt that makes you feel humiliated for suggesting such a thing.

You’re not a sensitive person. You can easily laugh off whatever anyone throws your way. Especially with Tsukishima since you know much he dislikes you. But that one - that one hurt. 

You shake your head and start taking out your stuff. “You’re right. It was a moronic idea. So forget I even suggested it,” you say while setting up your laptop on the table. 

You can’t stand the repugnant look on his face so you keep your eyes in front of you even if your laptop is still booting up.

“Let’s just do what we should be doing. Sorry, I wasted our time with my stupidity.” You don’t want to, but now you’re starting to really feel sorry for yourself. 

It shouldn’t be new or surprising to you. This is Tsukishima. His personality is terrible as hell. Yet, you wouldn’t mind a few kisses from him every now and then. You bared yourself just now by admitting that. 

Tsukishima must be so pleased you finally shut up because you don’t hear anything from him. You’re thankful for it because you don’t want to talk either.

Instead of dwelling on self-loathing, you distract yourself by giving your all to the project at hand. You’re already behind schedule so all the more reason to be efficient. 

No one speaks while you completely lose yourself on your tasks for the day. You don't know how long you’ve been going at it but before you even know it, you’re almost done with your share of work for the day. 

You just need Tsukishima’s output to finish yours.

With your head occupied with the amount of work you need to get done, you easily got over the tiny pang you felt earlier. You turn to Tsukishima and ask him for his write up. 

He frowns at your request. “You’re done already?”

You nod. “Just need your thingy then I can go home.”

He checks your laptop to see for himself and scowls when he confirms that you really are almost done.

“Give me 30 minutes,” he says as he begins rushing his own work.

“Don’t rush it, Tsukishima. I can do other stuff while I wait for you. Also, if you don’t mind. Do you have coffee?” You can feel the exhaustion begin to set in your body. For the past four nights, you’ve been getting three to fours of sleep only. 

As the only manager of the Frogs, you constantly have to move around the gym to help them out. But unlike the players, your real work is outside the gym - sorting paperwork, gathering information about other teams, coordinating practice matches, and so on. On top of that, you have your academic subjects to deal with.

You’re honestly used to it. But being a graduating student this semester, things are tougher for you. Not to mention the shit with Tsukishima, which has been bothering you for the past few nights. 

Well, at least that one’s been dealt with already.

You must have spaced out because you did not notice Tsukishima leave, and are surprised when he’s suddenly beside you with a cup of coffee already at hand. 

“Did you put sugar?” You might have sounded a bit demanding, but you’re too tired to be polite.

“No. Did you want some?” he asks back.

You get the mug and take that first sip of coffee that wakes up your almost dead body. “No, this is perfect,” you comment with a weary smile as you replace the current doc file open with the draft of the Lions’ profile you’ve been working on. 

Tsukishima can’t help but look at you once in a while even though he needs to finish already so you can finalize yours as well.

You’re completely immersed in what you’re doing, taking the cup of coffee to your mouth every now and then without even taking your eyes off your screen. 

He thought you’re getting restless but the quickening clack of your keyboard is proving otherwise. In fact, it’s becoming distracting. He’s about to put his headphones on so he can concentrate on his own task when he hears the abrupt slowing down of your typing. What’s alarming is he starts hearing you take excruciatingly deep breaths that wavers when you let them out. 

One look at you and he knows that you’re not okay. You’re blinking way too fast and the corners of your mouth are almost drooping. Those and your uneven breathing is enough to cause him to worry. 

He grabs your shoulder and forces you to look at him. “Oy, what’s wrong with you?”

You look at him with no clue as to what he’s talking about. “Hmm?”

The lack of life in your orbs is very concerning. It’s nothing compared to how you looked like when you were dead beat on the way home from the crocodile farm. 

“Are you having hard time breathing?” 

“Oh, that,” you let out a laugh that seems to contain the last strand of energy you have. “I’m just palpitating. Sorry if it’s distracting. You should go put your headphones on,” you say with a dead tone as you start picking up the pace again on what you’re doing. 

Just palpitating? Jesus Christ. 

He quickly takes away your coffee and slides it to his side of the table. It immediately catches your attention, your eyes absent-mindedly following the cup. “Hey, that’s my coffee. I need that,” you weakly complain.

“You need to rest,” he contradicts you. 

“I don’t need rest. I need to finish this and for me to finish this, I need,” you involuntarily inhale sharply and release it heavily before you complete your sentence, “that coffee.”

He checks your laptop and finds a comprehensive report on the updated line up of the Hiashi Automotive Lions. For someone who looks like she’s about to faint, it’s consistent with the other reports you’ve given the team previously - organized and well done. 

“You’re almost done here. Go take a nap.”

“Why would I take a nap if I’m almost done?” Despite the exhaustion evident in your whole being, you’re still determined to continue working. 

“You look like you’re about to pass out and I don’t want to take care of you when you do. So take a fucking nap on the couch,” he snaps. He didn’t mean to sound that harsh but it’s really getting on his nerves how you’re almost killing yourself with overworking.

You stare at him vacantly for a short while but do what he said. You drag yourself towards the couch and lazily lie yourself on it.

You cross your arms and rest them on the cushioned surface. Then, you snuggle your head on top of your arms as you wiggle your legs to a comfortable position. 

“You can use the pillows” he informs you.

“I’m fine,” you mutter with your eyes already shut. 

As much as he wants to get things done as fast as he can, your uneven heaving is a cause of concern. He keeps glancing behind him to check if you’re okay.

If he knew you’d be like this, he wouldn’t have given you the damn coffee.

He’s only able to start focusing on the project when your breathing becomes steady. Still, it took him more than 30 minutes to finish. He looks over to where you are again and calls out your name. However, you don’t even move an inch.

He walks towards the couch and sits at the unoccupied space by your waist. From this distance, he can see that your features are a bit more relaxed now even with just less than an hour of sleep.

He’s certain that you’ve been overworking yourself. It’s only because of your stubbornness that you were able to pull off the things you accomplished tonight. 

He’d let you rest a bit more longer but it’s going to get too late for you to go home on your own if he does. So he places a hand on your arms and gently shakes it.

“Mmmmm,” you hum on the arm you’re leaning at before slowly opening your eyes. With heavy lids, you plant your hand on the cushion and forcefully prop yourself up. Yet when you manage to sit up, you rest your head on your shoulder and close your eyes again.

“2 minutes,” you mumble sleepily.

He watches you fight the drowsiness that’s completely settled in. Instead of complaining when you still haven’t snapped out of it, he moves to sit beside you. He puts a gentle hand on the side of your head and softly tugs you to lean on his shoulder.

The moment your temple touches his shoulder, you bolt right up. His unexpected action has sucked the sleepiness out of you for a moment as you begin to put your guard up.

“I’m up. I’m up,” you announce in an alert manner as you scoot away from him. You frantically rub your eyes to get them to open.

So he isn’t imagining it: what he said a while ago got to you. Else, you wouldn’t have moved away like you’re allergic to his touch. You had been unusually quiet after he lashed out at you, but can you blame him for doing so? You’re basically saying that it’s okay to make out when it’s just you two. It’s fucking ridiculous. You should be thinking about how to avoid the situation from happening again, not succumb to it.

So why does he feel like a dick for calling you a moron? And why is he upset now that you’re actually doing what he wants you to do? Also, how the fuck are you so charming even when you’re half asleep before him?

“Are you done with yer stuff?” you slur as you crack your neck side to side.

“Yeah. But you should go home already.”

You blink several times as you check the wall clock across the room for the time. “Okay. Just e-mail it to me so I can do it before our next meeting.”

“No. Focus on your other shit then continue it when we meet next time,” he sternly says.

“We’re already behind schedule, Tsukishima. Just send it to me,” you insist despite how faint your voice is.

“I said no.” He doesn’t dislike you enough to make you overwork yourself to death. 

You close your eyes again and shake your head in surrender. “Fine. I’m too tired to argue further.”

Just when you’re about to stand up, he grabs your arm to stop you. Your eyes open up as you peer at him with confusion.

“I didn’t mean what I said earlier,” he utters with his best attempt to sound unbothered. 

Your brows crumple up from his statement that came out of nowhere. He just hopes that your fatigued self figures out what he’s referring to because he doesn’t want to elaborate on it. 

Sure enough, a palpable glint of understanding shows in your face when your mouth opens to form a silent “ah.”

“That, huh?” You respond just as vaguely as he had been. “Don’t worry about it,” you come up with a thrifty smile as you return your gaze to him.

“You were right anyways. It is a moronic idea. I just thought that maybe if we just let it ride out, it’ll pass. But meh. I just misread it and thought you enjoyed it as much as I do,” you explain in a nonchalant manner despite the confession that came along with it in the end.

Then, you giggle disorientedly. “You can rest easy now, Tsukishima. These disgusting lips of mine won’t come anywhere near you again, mkay?” 

He should be relieved, rejoicing even, that he’s pushed you away enough to keep your distance from him.

Yet what you said is gnawing at him for he didn’t say that. He never said your lips are disgusting.

Admittedly, he regrets kissing you on both occasions that it happened, but he’s never thought of it as disgusting.

Infuriating, yes, but not disgusting. 

“I’ll go fix my stuff now,” you say.

“They’re not disgusting,” he utters before you get off the couch. 

You look at him with vacant eyes that have begun to droop heavily again as a yawn comes out of you. You cover your mouth with your hands then lazily drop them to your lap afterwards.

You open your eyes and try to focus your sight again.

“Sorry, I conked out for like three seconds. Did you say something?” 

On a regular day, he’d think that you’re messing with him so he’ll repeat what he said. But the exhaustion still evident on your face convinces him that you really didn’t hear what he said. 

“Yeah,” he responds flatly before he leans closer to your face. He tilts his head a bit to the side and gently captures the warm softness of your lips.

The kiss lacks the heated intensity the previous two had. It is just one tender nip where he lingers just a tad bit longer to savor the taste of coffee mixed with your own.

He slowly withdraws from you but remains only an inch away that he still feels your breath mingling with his. 

“Your lips aren’t disgusting,” he repeats for you to hear this time.

Part 3 || Part 5 || masterlist

taglist (those crossed out can’t be tagged)

@ameliaxo @suikrem @akaashisslave @tsumurai  @loving-unicorns106 @flairlust @geektastic84 @anaiss97 @berna-dette @just4readingfics @suteorra @xxekitten69xx @simp4tsukkii @music-is-all-i-need @keshinslittlegirl @raspberrysunshinebby @iminlovewhaikyuu @pdiddy11 @lightyagamami @sailorscout1902 @lovershaikyuu  @expectonothinfromme @finnydraws @namelessidentity @hqbeesun @yatoatyourservice @mrkozume @suzuyamitsuki @celestialarchiveshq​

#tsukishima fluff #tsukishima angst #tsukishima smut #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu fluff #i hate tags

[mindofharry]

in which you’re acting in olivia’s wilde’s new movie and harry happens to be a big fan.

SO EXCITED FOR YALL TO READ THIS!!! :D feedback is welcome as always <3

fluff!!!! and just a lot of stuff about hollywood and the industry etc!!

You remember being eighteen and getting your first acting job on a big series. The most popular series on netflix at the time. You were so young and so new but you couldn’t let this offer go, so you took it and it was the best decision you ever made. It started you career and you ended with a job you love and are so very passionate about.

Soon enough the show decided that they would do one final season, you were 20 and had only done two movies since then. They were good movies but there was nothing much to them, you were just the best friend in them and nothing more.

When the job the series ended your agents were looking high and low for auditions and ideas etc. Everything was going pretty well, you had secured a place on a movie (again only a best friend) and you were pretty confident with what the future was going to hold. Doing that movie, that you thought you would only be a side character - was the best thing that had ever happened to you. You were praised for your role in the drama, and ended wining awards you never could even dream about. You also picked up a lot of lifelong friends.

Things were going so well. You had auditions and managers wanting you from every corner of the states, directors and producers calling up your agents. You felt as if nothing could stop you or get in your way.

Then COVID struck.

You were so grateful that you had a roof over your head and friends living with you in such a depressing and emotional time, but you couldn’t help but be upset. You were so excited for your career to finally take off and for you to get properly working.

But you just had to make do with what you had. You were in lots of lives on instagrams and still did lots of press for you latest movie and tv series. Although it was basically just the same questions, but you had something to keep you busy.

***

“Now don’t get too excited, but i got you an audition for a movie olivia wilde is directing” Alexia, your agent and bestfriend said over the phone. You grabbed your other friend, Danny, arm grinning at his confused expression.

“I love you so much, y’know that” you say listening to laugh alexia let out.

“I said don’t get too excited, but i think you’ve got this. just do your usual set up and clean face and hair out of your face ok?”

You nod and then answer back with a quick yes and a goodbye before hanging up and squealing. “i’ve got an audition for an olivia wilde movie” you yell making danny stand up and bring you into a hug.

“Fuck yes!” he yelled and then suddenly he stopped looking you dead in the eye. “This is the first time i’ll see you in your zone, Ms Emmy award winning actress” he teased making you hit him with a soft smile.

“You’re gonna have to help me dan, like read my script out when i get it. And help me set up lighting and shit”

“Sounds important, you sure you don’t want sara to help you with that?” he asked referring to his sister, and your partner in crime. You had all been friends since middle school all living in the same neighbourhood and going to the same school.

You were together through everything.

When sara got denied from her top college, when danny came out as bisexual, when your mom had died. Of course you had fights, like every friend. But you always came back to eachother. Sara and danny stayed with you when you were done with acting, when your mom had died very suddenly, when your dad lost contact with you and your brother. They were really the best friends you could ever ask for. You were so grateful.

“Should be ok, will probably need sara’s opinion seen as shes a film major. But it’s pretty easy stuff dan” you insisted picking up your laptop from the couch and opening it up.

Danny nodded and sat beside you placing an around your shoulder.

“i think you’ll get it. don’t know what it’s about, but you’re definitely fit for an olivia wilde movie”

You grin at him and open up your email to see alexia has sent you some lines to record.

“i’m going to go over these a bit, but i’ll let you know when i need you”

***

Danny and sara helped you with the audition tape and calmed your nerves and frustrations. Usually your anxiety is high when waiting for a call back, but now with covid and not getting the work you want it’s beginning to get a little worse. But you had your best friends there to guide you through it.

Weeks went on and no news came and honestly you forgot all about it moving onto different projects and stuff for 2022.

Then you got a call.

“y/n. you got the part”

And with that, you, danny and sara celebrated. You were beyond grateful and couldn’t believe you had gotten work — let alone with olivia wilde.

A bottle of wine and chinese takeout was the best you guys were going to get, but you didn’t complain one bit. Love island was on in the background while danny painted your nails and sara did your hair. “I can’t believe i’m going to be working along side olivia fucking wilde” you squealed making danny laugh and sara pull your hair. You yelped. “Olivia wilde gets to work along side Y/N fucking L/N” she corrected earning a couple of laughs out of you and danny. You guys celebrated anything and everything, it was like your tradition.

Danny got a haircut - celebration. sara finished editing that video that she had in the background for a good morning - celebration. you finally getting rid of those horrible earrings - celebration.

it was also an excuse to order unhealthy amounts of takeout.

“y’know i feel good about this”

Danny nodded putting the nail polish on the coffee table. “i can see that. look more confident” he added sara agreeing with him.

“just don’t forget about us when you get to go to the met gala. you’ve already done one hit movie, let’s hope this this another”

***

The script you received was absolutely amazing.

you couldn’t explain it, how it made you feel. You just couldn’t wait to play this character - although it was very different to your last character, you still felt so connected to it. A thriller was something you could never see yourself in, even now you have a hard time believing you’re going to be in one. And the amount of sex scenes thats in it, it did get you a little excited, albeit you were a tiny bit nervous.

“Harry styles” Alexia said over zoom, you grinned and danced around your sitting room.

“What are you dancing about?” danny asked putting the groceries on the counter.

“i’m gonna be having pretend sex with harry fucking styles!” you yelled making alexia cackle and danny dance around the room with you. “this is definitely something to celebrate. i’ll get the wine!” danny said dancing his way to the kitchen.

“well i’m glad you’re not shy. Olivia said harrys quite nervous about it all. obviously he was in dunkirk, but this is his first proper movie” she said making you nod “i know you��ll make him feel comfortable, but you are so confident so please don’t scare him off” alexia teased making you pout.

“i can’t help it. but i’ll make him a gift basket or something” you shrugged and alexia smiled.

“this is why i love you”

“ok so, harry styles, olivia wilde and y/n l/n in one movie?” sara asked making you smile as danny cheered. “my baby is making me so proud” sara cried dragging you up off the floor and spinning you around. you giggled and poured.

“i love you guys so much, y’know that?” you say putting an arm around both of their shoulders.

“eh, we love you too” sara said shrugging her shoulders.

“eh? shut the fuck up. say you love me like you mean it” you say tickling them. “ok! we love you, so much” danny yelled making you stop and put your hands on your hips.

“good to know”

And so the days went by you video chatting with olivia and the other producers. Making sure to check in with everyone as well. Olivia was the sweetest person ever, she called to just talk or to go over any queries or notes you had. She was honestly such a genuine person and you were glad you got to work with someone so kind.

Today was the day you would be meeting some of the cast and producers etc. You hadn’t really seen anyone other than alexis, sara and danny so you were excited.

You’re an outgoing, extroverted person so covid really hit you hard. You get bored easily too, so you really needed this lunch.

Deciding to dress up a little, you put on your favourite flare jeans and white tank top. You tucked it in and placed your red cardigan over it. And obviously your go to shoes were your white converse — your feet haven’t grown since high school, so you call these converse your lucky converse since you’ve worn them at every event. even at a red carpet!

Placing your hair in a braid, you did some natural looking makeup and then placed your rings on your fingers. “I’m going now, sara!” you called out only earning a groan — she had been working late last night so there was no seeing her until at least 2:30.

Danny was out on a hike clearing his energy or some shit he read online.

You were a bit nervous to drive there as you had only gotten your license recently, usually sara insists on driving everyone apparently it’s therapeutic, you’re in actual hell while driving. luckily the restaurant is only 10 minutes drive, so hopefully you make it there alive. you didn’t know how many people would be there, with covid and all you didn’t really know what to expect. You knew olivia would be there, and probably harry too. Which weirdly enough you weren’t too nervous about.

you had made a post on instagram about being excited to work with olivia and harry and the many other amazing people - and the harry fans of course went crazy. But overall everyone took the news really well.

When you arrived at the restaurant there were a few paps, probably there for harry and not expecting you. You’re a new popular actress, so this would make the paparazzi a lot of money. Once word got out that Y/N L/N and harry styles were having lunch together it would probably end it mayhem.

“y/n! over here!” a voice called out as you walked into the restaurant.

You smiled as you saw olivia wave at you. “ah! i’m so sorry i’m late” you say and olivia shook her head bringing you into a hug. “don’t worry about it! we’ve ordered some drinks, got you a coke” she said.

“i’m harry” a deep voice said from behind you, making you look around and see - harry fucking styles - introducing himself to you.

“i know who you are!” you giggled pulling him into a hug, which he obviously didn’t expect, but took it anyways. “i’m y/n” you say pulling back and sitting down infront him crossing your legs.

“i know who you are too” he blushed making you laugh again.

“you’re vegan, right?” you asked and he nodded “yeah, have been for a while. trying hard to stay somewhat healthy over quarantine” he said sipping on his water.

“well, i get a takeout probably two times a week and haven’t been to a gym in, i’d say 5 years”

Harry laughed loudly, making you laugh too. Olivia and the producers gave each other knowing smiles. They really hit the jackpot with this one.

***

“that wasn’t as bad as i thought” you mumbled as you got your first covid test done. It was very uncomfortable to say the least, but it didn’t hurt and you didn’t pass out so that was a plus.

you were going to start working next thursday, if everything goes to plan. If someone has covid then they obviously have to push it back.

You were so excited to get to work, it wouldn’t be like any other set you’d worked on. But you had a feeling it was going to be one you’ll remember forever.

“how was it?” danny asked as you got back in the car.

“better than expected. uncomfortable, but ok” you mumbled sitting back in the seat. Danny noticed how tired you were so he turned off the music and put down your window a little and let you sleep the whole journey home. You had been at all hours going over your script. This is what happened with you last role, and it was just the way you worked.

By the time you go on set you had everyone’s lines memorised.

The days went by slowly. It was actually quite painful. But your covid results came and you were negative and so was everyone else on the set and in your household. So you could finally get into work.

You were driven to work on thursday by a very nice man called john. He talked non stop, but it was nice to get to talk to some other than sara, danny and your agents.

“Have a good day john” you called out stepping out of the car your new pink mask adorning your face.

you had to get bangs the other day — you never heard the fucking end of it off of danny and sara. you had bangs in high school, along with some really badly done piercings and you told yourself never again. Of course the bangs looked good, they were amazing and you actually suited them this time. But that didn’t stop sara taking out all of the pictures of your freshman year and making you do a side by side for her instagram.

“you look tired” a voice called making you turn around a stick up the middle finger. You recognised the voice immediately, harry styles. He laughed coming beside you in his white vote shirt and tracksuit bottoms.

“i have to go and get my tattooes covered now” you sighed placing your phone in your tote bag, harry nodded “me too, the only time i’ll ever hate getting these tattoos”

“y’know i like them. the tattoos, they suit you” you say opening up the trailer door. harry stopped and smirked “hmm. see you later”

Covering up the tattoos didn’t take as long as you thought. The makeup and hair took a good hour and was painful with the mask - you did nearly pass out from the heat, but luckily harry stopped by with a cup of tea just in time.

God.

That man was something else. Seen as he’s never properly done this before, you thought he’d be full of first day jitters. But no, he’s going trailer to trailer, with tea’s and coffees.

“you nearly ready? we have our first scene soon” harry said leaning against the trailer door. All of you were practically ordered to wear a coat to cover the clothes as some paps had been spotted. It was a rather cold day so it didn’t make a difference to you.

“eager?”

He nodded holding your hand helping you down the steps of the trailer — heels were a real bitch you decided.

“paps and heel are assholes” you say making harry laugh. “you can say that again” he said dropping your hand and walking beside you.

You wanted him to hold your hand.

“don’t worry, i’ll go easy on you” you tease getting a pinch in return.

“more like the other way”

“yeah, christopher nolan movie ey? proper actor”

Harry rolled his eyes with a small smile on his face placing an arm around your shoulder.

“come on, wife.”

***

The days were long and some days were hard. But harry made everything so much better. Hugging you when you needed it, joking when you needed a laugh. There was paparazzi pictures of harry speaking and you laughing - which was a horrible cackle that made harry laugh. The fans were going crazy for you guys, and you were both asked constantly on whether there could be something more going on with you two.

“Another headline, H”

Harry shook his head with a small smile, placing the chinese onto the plate.

“your first drama headline, i’m so proud” Danny said placing an arm around you. Danny, sara you and now harry had decided to celebrate the first two weeks of filming and now apparently your first drama headline. Something about harry joining in all your tradition and not complaining about the awful food or very obnoxious and rude chats that go in, makes you soft and weirdly enough besotted.

“oh shut up, i’ll tell the paps that i’m dating you again. they’ll never leave you alone” you warn and danny backed off.

“again?” harry asked laughing slightly and passing you the plate full of food.

“everytime danny’s mean to me i tell the paps that we’re dating, even told one i was pregnant and that he didn’t want the baby”

“fuck off. remind me to never get on your badside” harry cackled sitting down beside you his food on the coffee table and his wine in the other. He had, had a good few drinks before hand too — he said “it’s my cheat night”.

Soon enough danny and sara went off to bed, not before danny teased you about how in love you and harry are. “oi! fuck off” harry yelled making danny squeal.

“please chase after me, daddy” danny said running down the hall.

“don’t humour him” you giggled sipping out of your wine glass.

“i’m in love with your friends” he said pausing to take a big gulp of his wine. “they’re just so genuine” he finished leaning back and placing a pillow on his lap. you nodded in agreement.

“we’ve been friends for years, before any of us were like somewhat famous”

“y’know i’ve seen your first movie about 100 hundred times” harry admitted making you flush. “shut up. you’re talking out of your ass” you say taking his wine glass away and pausing netflix.

“i’m serious. had a proper crush on you too” he laughed shaking his head.

“i don’t know if you remember, but i think it was a teens choice awards. and you had gone on stage to get an award and i helped you up the stairs thinking you had heels on” he said and you remember it vividly now.

“oh shit yeah! no, i wore my lucky converse. they’re pretty cool too”

“i think youre pretty” harry whispered moving closer to you. you bit your lip to try and stop yourself from squealing.

“hmmm. ok mr styles”

Before you could come up with another joke harry placed his lips on yours. You didn’t even hesitate in kissing him back, your hands flying to his hair. He moaned at the feeling of you tugging on it.

“you have no idea how long i’ve been wanting to do that for” harry said slightly out of breath.

“don’t worry, darling” you paused.

“me too”

#AHH #hope you like!!!! ☺️ #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles imagines #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #asks #requests #imagines #fic #fics #fanfic

[phoenixblack89]

Secret Crushes II : Trees and Tongues

So here it is the sequel to Secret Crushes. I got struck by inspiration earlier and just had to get it down straight away!

Warnings! - public sex, annoying siblings, strong language and delicious smut.

PART 1 Part 3

My wonderful lovelies - @autocon23 @fandomsaremykryponite @writingdeadangel @lilythemadqueen @boondoctorwho @darylsgirl @browneyes528

Letting out a yawn, you stretched and raised your arms over your head, smiling slightly as you recalled the events of the previous night.

You had sex with Murphy goddamn MacManus!

You still could barely believe it. He'd been so sweet and understanding when you had cried on his shoulder then there were his kisses that set a fire rushing through you you had never experienced before. And his hands! And his tongue against your skin! 

Oh my god!

You shook your head as you pushed your way out of bed to have a quick shower before dressing for school. You bit your lip as you climbed into the shower, wondering if he'd talk to you at school or if he'd even acknowledge you in the slightest.

But then again, Sara was fucking his brother, the bitch, so maybe he would.

You still had a smile on your face as you skipped down the stairs and grabbed some breakfast, scowling slightly at the mess left over from the party. Your sister was so gonna get in trouble when your parents came home today. Sara grumbled as she joined you in the kitchen and started the coffee maker.

"Lil sis."

"Yea?" You answered, rolling your eyes behind her back.

"What's this?"

"Huh?"

Your eyes widened slightly as she tossed a belt onto the table. The buckle clanged loudly and Sara crossed her arms, smirking.

"If you can't tell what a belt is Sara, you might wanna go back to nursery school." You laughed, worrying inside if she was trying to somehow get you back for the interruption last night. Hell, it could be one of your dad's for all you knew. "It's dad's belt Sara. What's the issue?"

"If it's dad's belt then how did it 1. Get into the woods. And 2. Why’s it engraved with the initials MM?" She smirked, crossing her arms across her chest smugly.

"Fuck." You sigh quietly, leaning closer and sure enough there on the plain silver buckle were the letters MM.

Shit you thought He must not of remembered when you'd tossed it carelessly to the side in the rush to get dressed when his twin was about to come across you.

"Someone must of had fun last night in the woods. Why you asking me?" You asked, shrugging your shoulders.

"I know you came out of those woods with Murphy and Connor last night. Y/N... Please say you didn't sleep with that arsehole!"

"How fuckin dare you lecture me on who I can and can't sleep with!? And if he's an arsehole, what's that make Connor huh? You didn't seem to mind him filling ya hole!" You snapped, fists balling tightly.

"That's different and you know it!"

You scoff and grab your bag, storming out the back door and up the drive. Sara followed slightly behind you calling your name but you ignored her.

"Good morning lass!"

You paused at the gate and looked up into the blue eyes of Connor, who was smiling widely. You gave a slight twitch of your lips in reply and pulled the gate open as Murphy raised his hand in greeting from behind his brother. Your sister gave a girly giggle as she caught up with you and wrap her hands behind Connor's neck, pulling him into a long kiss. You glanced at Murphy, his eyes burning into yours. You felt yourself heating up and bit your lip.

"Oh Murphy! You left this last night. Found it out by the creek in the woods behind the barn." Sara laughed, tossing the belt towards the darker twin as she pulled away from Connor. Connor gave a snort as Murphy caught the belt and frowned. "Didn't take you for the love 'em and leave' em type. Must of been in quite the hurry to forget your belt."

"Erm..." Murphy stuttered, his cheeks bright red. You paled and glared at your sister as she pulled Connor down the lane towards the town. Murphy quickly stuffed the belt into his bag and waited for you to start walking.

You trailed behind your sister and Connor, keeping your eyes downwards as the pair began shamelessly flirting and kissing and generally being all lovey dovey. You felt your anger rising towards your sister as well as a flare of jealousy. Murphy bit his lip and glanced at the older siblings in front of him before making up his mind.

You gave a slight squeak as he grabbed your hand and pulled you to the side of the road, smirking at Connor as he looked back over his shoulder; who gave a chuckle and a returning smirk, and pulled you into the woods edging along the side.

You gave a sharp gasp as he pushed you up against a tree after a few minutes of wandering deeper into the woods. His hands found your hips as he leaned his head against yours.

"Murphy... We'll be late for school..." You sighed breathlessly as your chest heaved in excitement. His eyes glowed with desire as he closed the distance between you to smash his lips against yours. You gulped and kissed him back just as frantically, your hands gripping onto his biceps tightly.

You gasped as his lips lay a burning path along your jaw and found the hickey from last night and began licking and biting at it once more, darkening it from a pale purple to an almost black hue against your skin. You moaned as his fingers dipped under your skirt and ran along your thighs.

"Murphy!"

"Yea beautiful?" He replied, the fingers of his other hand toying with the buttons of your blouse and slowly opening them for his wandering mouth. "Ye taste like heaven..."

"We... We... Oh god...." You shivered as his tongue began working a nipple through the soft fabric of your bra, grazing his teeth over the sensitive bud. Your hips thrust against his hand involuntarily in want.

You felt him smirk against your chest as he lowered himself to his knees. You glanced down at him and he smirked before flipping your skirt up over his head and tugged your panties down to your ankles.

"Murphy... What are you doing?!" You gasp in shock, feeling his breath ghost over your core heavily.

"Told ye last night. Was gonna eat ye when I next saw ye."

"Holy SHIT!" You shriek as his tongue brushed lightly over your clit, hands flying to grab his head as he begins to lightly flick his tongue. You groaned and panted heavily, his hand gripped your hip tightly as you try to squirm away from the overwhelming sensations.

Murphy gave a gentle chuckle deep in his throat and cupped your sex gently, feeling how slick you were becoming from his tongue alone before slowly pushing a single finger into your core. His lips wrapped tightly around your clit and began sucking and tugging on it as his finger thrust in and out slowly. You gave a quiet moan, teeth digging into your lip as pleasure began to coil in your stomach. You felt Murphy smirk around your clit as he thrust another finger into you and curled them in a beckoning motion.

Your eyes rolled back as the pleasant feeling doubled inside you and your hands grabbed tighter onto his shaggy, dark hair. Your breaths came out in pants as he worked you with his mouth and tongue, head flung back against the bark of the tree behind you.

Murphy hummed deeply as your thighs began to quiver around his head and he raised one of them to his shoulder and wrapped it around his neck. The new angle allowing him to plunge his fingers into you deeper, hitting that spot that made you see stars.

You gave a loud groan as your nails scraped against Murphy's scalp and your hips began thrusting against his face.

"Oh God! M- M- Murphy! Please..." You gasped, sweat trickling down your neck, you were so very close.

"Cum fer me, auriolus... That's it." He whispered, his hot breath blowing over your sensitive spot before he resumed his attention to your swollen clit. A few strong licks and sucks had you melting against him as wave after wave of orgasmic bliss rushed over you. Your chest heaved as your heart raced, your breaths heavy and body feeling totally relaxed and tingly.

Murphy gave a soft sweet kiss to your clit as he pulled away. You glanced down and gave him a lazy smile, his chin glistening with your slick. He smirked as he pulled your leg from his shoulder and stood slowly. His eyes dark with lust and gave you a deep kiss. You could taste yourself on his lips and tongue.

A strange tangy taste. Not unpleasant but not something you could see yourself loving.

You both panted as you pulled away.

"Murphy... Please, I..."

"Y/N!? MURPHY?! WHERE YOU TWO GO!?" Your sister yelled, sounding distinctly enraged.

Murphy knelt quickly and pulled your panties back up and brushed down your skirt as you buttoned your blouse up. Your sister and Connor's footsteps growing closer to you. Murphy wiped his chin and fluffed his hair lightly before pulling you into a hug and kissing your neck sweetly.

"Seriously man! This is the second time I found ye in the woods together!" Connor sighed, stopping behind you. Your eyes met his and you did not quite understand the look in them. Something dark and almost angry as he glanced up and down your figure, taking in your mussed, stuck up hair and flushed face, the slightly awkward grip you had on his brother's bicep, the reddened skin along your neck where Murphy has been sucking and nipping at your skin moments ago. You averted your gaze as your cheeks blushed a deep red, chewing on your lip nervously.

"Fuck’s sake Con! Can't I have a few minutes to do summit fer a friend?"

"Friends don't fuck each other Murphy MacManus! You keep your hands off my baby sister!" Sara interrupted, grabbing you and pulling you away from the darker twin and out of the woods. "I TOLD you to stay away from him. He's not a good guy Y/N."

"Fuck off Sara. Don't try the big sister routine with me when you're fucking his twin." You snap back, storming away towards the school in the distance, her and the twins voices calling after you as you ran.

Trust your sister to ruin your mood. 

Today was going to be one of those days.

#normanreedus #smutty goodness #murphy x reader #murphy macmanus fanfiction #murphy macmanus smut #bds smut #Bds fanfiction #boondock saints fanfiction #boondock saints smut #PhoenixBWrites #Secret Crushes

[heavcnslyre]

ricky bowen x reader second series!! part ten

— (continuation) starstruck au!

first series | series masterlist, part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part six, part seven, part eight, part nine, part ten

IN WHICH you’re leaving for tour

WARNINGS nothing :)

NOTES ok what the FUCK i’m so sorry? i didn’t realize it’s been over two months since i’ve last updates HELP I COMPLETELY JUST GOT OFF OF TUMBLR anyways here is the last part of this story! i’m sorry these past few chapters have been bad i’ve kinda lost interest in the story but i couldn’t just end without a proper ending! thank u for all the support and look out for more ricky stories :) also sorry i hate time skips too but i have no other ideas IM SO SORRY. this is so short but enjoy!

text dividers from @writeyourmindaway !!

( tags: @hesvoid34 @omgdani17 @moreidsdaughter @peachyafshawn )

lowercase intended.

three months later.

“darling, have you seen my sneakers?” ricky called from downstairs. “i swore i packed them but...”

“here!” you called, walking out of yours and ricky’s room and down the stairs. he smiled gratefully as you handed them to him. “under the bed, as usual.”

“god, i really should check under there more often,” he commented and you laughed in agreement, rubbing his arm as you passed by him. when you walked towards the living room, your puppy nova, who had been asleep on the couch, peaked her head up and rushed over to you. you giggled and scooped the small dog into your arms. “hi baby.”

ricky walked past you and rubbed nova’s head. “my moms expecting us around eight. says she has some stuff to give us before we go.” ricky’s relationship with his mom had improved greatly in the past few months. it was rocky at first, with both of them being too stubborn to talk it out, but eventually they agreed to meet over coffee. ricky had come back from the cafe with a large smile on his face and had no issues with his mom since. he even got along with his moms boyfriend, who he bonded over the movie ‘diehard’ with.

“okay. red and ashlyn meeting us at the bus?” you asked. he nodded. the four of you were leaving for ricky’s first ever worldwide tour today. first he would tour around the US, then you would head to europe. ricky made sure there was room for all three of you to join him, saying that it wouldn’t be worth it if you weren’t there with him. and, he just so happened to find room for nova to go as well. he said that there would be plenty of parks to stop at for her to run around in. to say you were excited would be an understatement. you were also extremely proud of ricky— he had come so far and this was still only the beginning.

you were about to double check that you hadn’t left anything gross in the fridge when your phone started to ring. nini was facetiming.

“nini!” you cheered as you answered. you were met with her smiling, just-woken-up face.

“(y/n)!! i wanted to call and see how you were doing this fine morning,” she said. “when do you guys leave?”

“bus is supposed to leave around ten,” you explained. “we’ll be in seattle for the first show tomorrow.”

“ahh!” nini exclaimed. “that’s so exciting! i’m so excited to see you guys when you come to new york. i’ve missed you!” nini moved to new york a little over a month ago after she got a role in a broadway show. she had been extremely busy so you and ricky barely ever had time to talk to her, but you were proud that she was achieving her dreams.

“i’m excited to see you perform!”

nini blushed. “oh, yeah. i’m excited for that too.”

you laughed. “don’t get all nervous on us now, salazar-roberts. we know you’re crazy talented.”

“is that nini?!” you heard from behind you as ricky entered the kitchen. you laughed as he wrapped his arms around you from behind and smiled at nini on the phone. “hey! how’s new york treating you?”

“great!” nini exclaimed. “it is absolutely insane here all the time but so worth it. there’s this coffee place you guys have to try when you’re here, it’s the best coffee i’ve ever tasted.”

“yes please!” you said. “i’m struggling with the fact that i have to leave sara’s coffee here.”

“oh, trust me, this place is 10x better than sara’s.”

you and ricky talked to nini for a few more minutes before she had to go and get ready for her show later. when the facetime ended, you twisted so you were facing ricky, his arms still around your waist. you looked up at him and grinned. “you ready?”

he squeezed you to his chest and pressed a kiss to your head. “hell yeah i am.”

the end. <3

#ricky bowen starstruck au #joshua bassett #high school musical the musical the series #hsmtmts #olivia rodrigo #ashlyn caswell #bowen #ricky #ricky bowen x reader #drivers license #hsm the series #ricky bowen #ricky bowen headcanons #ricky bowen one shots

[creativeashproductions]

In the Beginning // Alive!Luke Patterson

Summary: Reggie (Rhodes)’s older sister is the epitome of cool in his, and his friends, eyes with her in a band. Pushed by a hazel eyed brunette with a huge crush on the eldest Rhodes teen the boys decide to start a band. While at first the band is for Luke’s dream of landing you he finds his passion with music.

Warning: Swearing, angst, fluff, dad!Luke

Words: 4.1k

A/N: I couldn’t resist writing another alive!Luke fic with Luke crushing on his band mate’s sister. Ugh, just imagine Luke suggesting a band to impress his crush only to fall in love with music instead.  For my fics it will be Alex Mitchell and Reggie Rhodes until JATP reveals their canon names. 

Masterlist

Los Angeles, 1992

The guitar case was a familiar heaviness as you walked into the home for the first time in months after a practice. You ached from the long travel, and all you wanted was your bed. The yawn came first, then the startled yell at the living room.

Four pairs of eyes met the girl standing in the entryway, surprised at a sleepover with her brother and his full friends. Eyebrows coming together you shook your head wondering why they had come here instead of the typical Patterson home.

“Hey!” Fourteen-year-old Reggie beamed towards his older sister excited she was back from her weekend band practice. Your eyes blinked at his usual upbeat personality before switching to the brown eyes from Bobby, too shy to full meet yours.

Spread around the living room watching a movie was Reggie’s best friends; the socially awkward Alex, the shy Bobby, and the Patterson boy Luke. The young typically spent their time at Luke’s place, so seeing them in your home was strange.

“Reg, what’s up?” You asked crouching to untie your shoes confused at the sharp audible gasp coming from Luke. Standing straight up, you saw Luke awkwardly looking away with bright red cheeks.

“How was practice?” Reggie inquired with the smile he got from your mom and his dark hair from your dad.

Reggie usually wasn’t interested in your band leading you to wonder what the hell was going on with them. Being sixteen you didn’t socialize with Reggie’s friends, thanks to the two year age gap, but you were happy he had good friends. Well, less than two years between you and Luke.

“It was good. Since when are you interested in Crimson Queen?” You questioned moving more into the room with the four young teens, “You haven’t even touched your bass in years.”

One eyebrow raised you individually looked at the boys in the room all with sheets of paper around them. From a distance, you couldn’t tell what was on them, but it couldn’t be homework. They all attended the same high school while you had done correspondence with the band and a tutor.

“Luke’s parents got him a guitar,” Reggie spoke gesturing to the decent brand new acoustic guitar on the floor beside the Patterson. Luke’s hazel eyes widening as you came closer to the group.

Your hand picking up the guitar to look it over finding it was decent for a beginner, but it was definitely not tuned. The sheer sound made you wince.

“So, you guys want to be a band?” You questioned sitting on the floor beside Luke. The boy shifting nervously, you weren’t blind that he got shy around girls, “Do you guys even play instruments?”

“I got the bass, Bobby can play rhythm guitar, Alex plays dru-“

“I wouldn’t call it proper drumming. It’s just something my therapist suggested with my anxiety and frustrations.” Alex raised his hand leading to everyone in the room looking at the tall male, recently had a growth spurt, with the backward black hat.

“And Luke will learn guitar as well.” You added, looking at the quiet, “How well can you play?”

“I don’t even know how to properly tune it,” Luke admitted playing with his fingers adorned with a ring.

Luke had chosen a cutoff shirt in an attempt to gain your attention to his arms he hoped had gotten more muscled. He had a massive crush on you but with the guys your own age he had step up; he started working out. He actually enjoyed it, but he’d enjoy it more if you were checking him out.

“You’ll need a place to practice.” You mumbled glancing out the window at the ocean waves thinking. The house was on the prime real estate edge of the beach all thanks to your well off parents; Dad, a doctor and Mom, an interior designer.

Your fingers tapped on the ripped blue jeans you had chosen that day with the flannel shirt opened over the black AC/DC t-shirt. You started standing up, grabbing Luke’s hand to pull him up as well; the boy’s cheeks grew pinker, and his heart fluttered.

“What?” Luke spluttered, staring at his hand, caught in yours in sheer awe.

“You’ll need a place to practice.” You answered, dropping is head to reach in your pocket for your key chain.

The key chain had a few keys on it: one for home, one for your car, one for the band van for gigs, one for the garage, and lastly one for the house the garage belonged to. The boys piled into the car, apprehensive for where you were taking them. The only sound was the radio playing local greatest hits, your foot slammed on the brake at the house of your bassist.

“Well Marty, this song has blown up on the charts. New band Crimson-“

“Holy shit.” You breathed staring at the radio. Your door opened as you sprinted down to the steps that led to the garage. The footsteps of the boys following.

The garage was open already with your band members lounging around the space filled with instruments and amps. Their heads swivelling as you frantic turned the radio on.

“Come on.” You mumbled, turning the radio station to the right one, “Guys listen!”

“-Crimson Queen is an LA-based band making waves in the LA Nightlife and hit the top ten with their newest song Sorry Now.” The radio host spoke, “If you haven’t heard the song before, this is the band’s new single.”

The song was blasted from the radio leading to the four girls screaming the song out dancing around the room. Euphoria was the only way you could call the feeling rising in the bodies of the girls in the place. The room burst into more screams as your drummer. Faith switched the radio station.

“Today history was made, Crimson Queen is an all-female rock band fronted by Y/N Rhodes. They started as a hobby at fifteen, but a year later at sixteen they’ve made waves.” A hit radio station, the second one so far, was talking about your band. Holy shit.

“Lucy, this band is going places. My daughter is seven years old, and she’s telling me this band is the talk of her school. I can’t tell how much Lucy listens to their demo.”

Your eyes saw Reggie having a meltdown of excitement for older sister and her band, and you were so unbelievably happy you should care the moment. You rushed over to Reggie to pull him into a hug.

“Girls…and boys.” Mrs Taylor spoke furrowing her brows at the young boys in the garage her daughter had begged to use for the band. Shaking her head, the middle-aged woman turned her attention to her daughter.

“Hey, Ma.” Dawn, your bassist, spoke spreading her pink painted lips to her perfectly straight teeth too hyped up on energy, “What’s up?”

“First congratulations on the single. Secondly, we’re gonna need to get a personal line for the band because our phone is blowing up.”

A sharp gasp from Dawn before the three of the four girls rushed to the house of the Taylor’s. You hung back to look at your brother and his band.

“So? What do you think?” You inquired with the group, “This idea of yours has to be one hundred percent what you want. It won’t be easy in LA, it will come with hardships, and Reggie Mom and Dad won’t let you drop out.”

The four boys nodded their heads because the excitement they saw in your big break was something they wanted. To be able to connect with people cemented their decision.

“Feel free to hang around.” You suggested glancing around the garage that started it all, “I’ll be back in a bit.”

The Orpheum, Los Angeles, 1995

The crowd screamed as Crimson Queen, the song that started this road played with the girl crouching to grasp the hand of fans. At the beat of the chorus, you stood up eating up the energy of the last show of the tour. You went jumped on the drum riser rocking on the guitar as Faith did her magic.

Dawn on her bass made her way to rock with your rhythm guitarist Sara sharing grins with you still feeling the euphoria of this success. As the song came to an end, your entire band went to the front of the stage.

“We’d like to thank our fans for the last nine months of our world tour. We started this band in LA in 1991, so we thought it fit to end our tour at The Orpheum.” You spoke to the crowd, feeding off the energy as the concert came to an end.

The road crew would load your instruments up in the van to take home after months of travelling. You were so excited to see Reggie, who would be seventeen now, having celebrated his birthday while you had been in Europe. Too excited were shocked as Reggie backstage.

“Reggie!” You exclaimed tugging the teen into your arms, leaning back to take him in, “Damn you grew!”

Reggie grinned not giving a shit you were coated in sweat from performing your setlist, but your eyes went over his shoulder. Standing close and just as excited was Reggie’s friends. Alex was taller, Bobby looked more confident, and Luke could meet your eyes. Luke also had changed, no longer baby faced.

“Sunset Curve.” You spoke, stepping back to look them over, “I haven’t seen you guys in months, how did you change so much!”

“That’s what happens when you go on tour for almost a year.” Luke teased tugging you into his arms for a tight hug.

It was odd seeing Luke taller and more muscled than when you left for tour, and the confidence was honestly hot. You had seen Luke as anything other than your brother’s friend, who tended to stare a little too long.

“You played the fucking Orpheum!” Alex screamed, holding your shoulders with a wrinkled nose at the damp red thin flannel shirt. The girls wandered up behind you each with a grin at the guys.

“Well if it isn’t Sunset Swerve,” Sara spoke swinging her arm over your shoulder with a teasing smirk plastered on her face. Her blonde hair swept up in a bun high on her head from a recent shower.

“Sunset Curve!” The male quartet snapped at the name before they fell back into a happy demeanour. Luke and you both staring at each other with a pink-hued face.

Faith was quieter in the group leaning closer to your band to whisper in your ear, “Jay scored us some drinks. But MJ got us into a party.” Faith’s textured hair tickling your neck.

Grins split the three girls at the suggestion each excited for the party with fellow musicians and plus ones. Sure, the parties had drugs and alcohol, but they were fun and part of the scene. Half of you wanted to go, but the other wanted to spend time with your brother.

“I’ll think I’ll pass.” You spoke up to the girls motioning to the guys, “I’ll head back with them. Meet you at the house later?”

Your black vans moving backwards as you moved to be closer to be flush against Reggie’s side grinning as he bumped his hip against you. Sara, Faith and Dawn each raising an eyebrow at your response since you often dragged them to parties.

“Orrr…we could each take one of them.” Faith cajoled mocha skin gleaming in the light with her hands, tugging her hair into a thick braid.

“You want me to take my seventeen-year-old brother and his friends-“

“-I’m like two weeks from being eighteen-” Luke cut into the conversation buzzing at the possible date, but not date, with the girl he had been crushing on for years. He was pretty sure he was in love with you at this point; he did date a little, but nothing stuck.

“-To a party in Hollywood.” You finished pinning your gaze on the three girls ahead each with mischievous grins. Your cheeks puffed as you breathed out, thinking of the positives and negatives.

Bobby was bouncing on his heels with Reggie leaving Alex shifting uncomfortably in his place. His partially relaxed when Luke squeezed his forearm through the distressed black jean jacket that bought his outfit together. Luke himself was apprehensive on your decision because either way, he got to spend time with you.

“Come on.” Dawn implored, pulling out the big guns with her ocean blue eyes widening into the puppy gaze that did you in each time. Her curtain of short dyed pink hair framing her heart-shaped face.

“I’m going to pass this time. Do some shots for me! Not tequila though, that was a huge mistake.” Faith’s grin widened at having you carry you out of the house in the early morning after a wicked party.

“Did you ever find your tho-“

“Faith!” You hissed turning a bright red at her revelation that you definitely didn’t want Reggie to know. The atmosphere turned awkward as everyone realized what the sentence would end with.

Okay so maybe you had hooked up with a few people over the last three years but nothing permanent. It was fun, drunk fun, but still fun and nothing had gone wrong. Your eyes avoided looking at Luke for a reason you couldn’t decipher.

“I’ll see you later.” You spoke motioning for the guys to follow you to the dressing room you had settled in early in the day. The corner of your lips quirked at the awe on each of the boys’ faces.

“I’m in the dressing where bands become legends.” Reggie gasped circling the room with wide-eyed interest. Alex was interested in the band posters on the walls from previous performers.

Luke, however, was more interested in your curves covered by your sweaty stage clothing that stuck to your form. His Adam’s apple gulped as you grabbed your shower bag moving towards the connected bathroom.

“I’ll grab a shower, and we can head out.” You supplied, “I’ll just need to stop at Rudy’s office for our portion of the concert.”

The guys mumbled a response finding a place to wait without hushed conversations of when they would get to play. Luke’s eyes found yours at the low call of his name from the bathroom; a crack opened he walked over.

“Do you have a sweater?” You mumbled at the taller teen with widening eyes as he realized that you were naked behind the door.

Luke stumbled over his feet, retrieving the black pullover Crimson Queen merch he had had for months now. He had saved up money to buy the merch to support the band. The door closed as you tugged the sweater in the bathroom momentarily before walking out.

“Thanks Lu. I forget to pack a shirt.” Luke awed as your nose scrunched up adorably to the amusement of his friends, “So, do you wanna hit the beach? Or maybe give me a concert in the garage?”

Luke intertwined his fingers in yours as he tugged you out of the room with your bag in hand. His heart fluttered as you held on to his hand even in the little office of the Orpheum’s management for the thick envelope of money.

“Thanks, Rudy!” You called over your shoulder at the short, stout man going over the financials and upcoming performances.

The smell of Sunset Boulevard brought a smile remembering the first time you performed and the small group that had waited outside. The first night of autographs and recognition.

“So, Reg how’s my car?” You questioned the teen who impishly grinned tugging the key chain from his black jeans. You had given him the keys when you revealed Crimson Queen had a world tour.

“Right there.” Reggie pointed leading the group of five to the car that would take them to the garage. Reggie drove with Alex in the passenger while you were crammed between Bobby and Luke; Luke was delighted in your warmth against his side.

While your band members partied, you got a first-row seating to Sunset Curve’s talent in the garage where you had started out. It was amazing to see how much they had accomplished in the three years since they started.

The sudden knock on the door had you flailing off the couch onto the floor with a sheet of paper stuck to your cheek. Your spine cracked as you sat up glancing at your watch, finding it was after midnight, only an hour of sleep after inspiration for a new song.

The door was knocked on once more and coming close the sound of crying could be heard, and you wondered if it was Luke. He had been over a few days in the night following a fight with his parents and needed to crash; helped you were giving dating a chance after his well-rehearsed speech.

Imagine your shock when it was Reggie sobbing, “Reggie.”

“C-can I stay here?” Reggie whimpered cuddling himself into the leather jacket he received at Christmas from you. You had inside in your arms in moments, “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Are they fighting again?” You murmured to your younger brother content to hold him as he cried. Bringing him to the living room, you held him as he cried humming under your breath the first song you ever let him see.

“Yeah. The music doesn’t work anymore.” Reggie murmured leaning back to wipe his tears off, “Sorry for crashing. I can go stay with-“

“Here. Reginald, you can always stay here.” You soothed the seventeen-year-old boy with sad eyes and a sombre look. His sad eyes shattered your heart, knowing he had suffered the fighting for months alone, “This house is empty Reg. You can move in here.”

His lip quirked up, “Can we play country music?”

“And eat breakfast at night.” You teased him grinning as his lips pulled up into his trademark grin, “The guys can come over whenever they want. I’d actually prefer they know they can stay here, they deserve a safe place to stay.”

You knew that Alex endured living with his parents, who had gone out of their way to avoid him after he came out. Luke couch surfed at your old house, never at Alex’s home; after coming out, Alex didn’t feel comfortable bringing anyone over.

“Good, because they’re outside.” Reggie sheepishly admitted raising his thumbs-up, “Go thinking ahead!”

Snorting the human version of a golden retriever you opened the front door to the house finding two guys in strange positions. Alex was inspecting the light fixture, and Luke was leaning against the wall with his elbow, foot across the other.

“You guys need lessons in the art of pretending you weren’t eavesdropping.” The sigh fell stepping aside for the two to enter the home—each carrying a backpack and small duffle bag for wherever they would have crashed.

The male trio got comfortable in the living room curiously glancing at the mess of papers, sticky notes and pencils. While with good intentions, they didn’t follow boundaries well, even for Alex.

“Whatcha working on?” Luke inquired, leaning closer to a sheet of paper. His pout coming over his face when you quickly tidied up the papers.

“Nothing. I fell asleep on the couch. The label wants new songs.” You groaned rubbing your eyes, “I got inspired last night. Oh! Hey, I took a message for you guys.”

Jogging to your office studio for the band you quickly grabbed the envelope along with the note that you had been given.

“So, Rudy called me, and I had a meeting with him.” You started sitting on the coffee table in front of the trio. The trio leaned forward.

“Rudy?” Luke questioned, pursing his lips together at the male name. While you and Luke were dating it wasn’t official, he was just really nervous with his dream girl liking him back.

“He’s the management for a venue. He asked if our band was available for a concert, but we collectively decided to focus on songs and recording, which you can’t tell anyone about, but he’s in dire need. So, I might have given him something. Specifically a demo of yours and knowing your home situations I gave my information.”

“Okay…so?” Alex questioned, leaning forward. His eyes growing wide as you pushed the envelope in his hand.

Alex quickly opened the cream envelope finding inside a paper along with a mock-up promo poster with Sunset Curve. The squeal was shocking from the teenager as he read the letter and note out loud.

Y/N,

I gave the demo a listen, and we usually wouldn’t do this, but Crimson Queen has been gracious with us. Always mentioning where the band got its start and closing the tour here. To repay the favour, we would formally like to invite Sunset Curve to perform. In the envelope is a mock-up poster as an option for the promo. Get the Sunset Curve’s people to get in touch. I can get the word out to some friends from some labels to come for a listen. Get in touch as soon as possible.

Manager of The Orpheum in Los Angeles,

Rudy West.

 “The Orpheum?” Luke screamed, yanking the paper from Alex to re-read it in complete shock, “We don’t have people!”

“But Crimson does.” You smirked, “On a temporary basis Crimson Queen formally offer our manager’s help.”

In his excitement, Luke lunged to pull you into a kiss freezing the room in shock.

“He got the girl.” Alex breathed elbowing Reggie in the side who’s mouth was open at his best friend kissing Reggie’s older sister. The older sister who was the driving force behind Luke wanting to form a band to impress her, “We need to tell Bobby!”

1995 was the best year for Luke Patterson. He got the girl, his band made it, his parents finally saw his dream was worth it.

The sound of music hypnotized the woman as she wandered down the hall to the open door of the large home. Nothing too over the top like Bobby’s mansion, but it was a nice size in a gated area. Your neighbours being Reggie on one side and Alex on the other side with his partner Willie; Willie had skated into Alex and into a love story pretty much.

Resting against the door edge of the designated home studio you saw Luke had moved a rocking recliner in. Softly playing in the room was a soft acoustic song recorded months previous as a surprise for you.

“When are the lessons starting?” You questioned bringing Luke’s attention to your soft smile and the love in your eyes. Luke’s grin widened glancing down at the miniature version of his love-filled eyes.

“Given her legendary parents, I think at two.” Luke chuckled shuffling the baby to the crook of his arm shifting, so you could curl into his side as well. Both eyes gazing at the little baby you had welcomed what felt like yesterday.

Stevie could fall asleep only to the lullaby her father had created during the pregnancy, and he had written. Stevie had Luke’s eyes, and so far her blonde hair had yet to darken so the question of if she’d take after your hair or his hair was unanswered.

“Hey sweetheart.” You whispered to your daughter falling asleep to the sound of her father’s voice in the room. An adorable yawn pulled from her little body as she nestled into Luke’s arms.

“She’s so gorgeous.” Luke breathed tears welling up as he could understand the reasoning behind his parents’ opinions in his teens. He truly felt terrible at hurting his mom now that he felt the love for his child.

“We did good Patterson.” You murmured back to the man who had held your heart since you were nineteen and back from tour. Your finger tracing Steve’s soft cheek, “I think she has your mom’s mouth.”

Luke’s lips lingered on your cheek heart full of love for his family with you and his little girl. He had known since his eleventh birthday he would marry you even if you were a year older. A year that made the difference when he was months older than his friends, so the year felt like two for you. At eighteen when was tentatively dating you, he knew he would marry you. He never anticipated the sheer amount of adoration for the little girl he would have at twenty-one.

God, he loved his life. He made up with his parents, his best friends, had the girl of his dreams, the most beautiful daughter and it all thanks to music. Can you see why he lives and breathes music?

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[thinkingaboutyoungroyals]

Falling For You But You Are Worlds Away: Chapter 1

Summary: After a close call with a reporter that resulted in Simon getting hurt, Linda makes a difficult and heartbreaking decision. Meanwhile, Wilhelm returns to Hillerska, hoping to at least rekindle his friendship with Simon, only to find that even that was no longer possible.

Title inspired by Taylor Swift's "Come Back, Be Here."

Note: So... after several weeks of obsessing... I finally did it... I finally wrote Young Royals fanfic. And, I really shouldn't because I have Grad school and a part-time job and I barely have time to breathe.Speaking of that, I probably won't have a consistent update. There might be times when I disappear for several weeks. Please be patient and understanding with me, I'm still trying to balance school and work.

AO3 link

It was supposed to be a normal day of running errands – a trip to the grocery store, dropping off mail at the post office, and maybe getting ice creams as a treat on the way home. But, no, Simon should have known better than to think that his life would somehow go back to normal during Christmas. After all, the prince had denied his involvement in the viral video and Simon had broken up with him to give both of them some space. This all happened only a week ago.

But, even after all that trouble and heartbreak, here he and his family were, being chased down their own street by paparazzi with their stupid cameras and fake sympathy.

“Simon, won’t you tell us your side of the story?”

“Is Prince Wilhelm lying? Are you in a relationship?”

“Mrs. Erikkson, how did you react when you found out your son may have been involved with the prince?”

“Don’t say anything,” his mother hissed in Spanish, clutching Simon and Sara’s arms tighter against her side.

The plastic bag of groceries was digging into Simon’s skin and he wished he could adjust his grip but he didn’t dare slow down. Those hyenas at his heels could catch them and he didn’t want to give them that satisfaction.

But, then, Sara let out a startled scream. A reporter had grabbed her arm, making her drop the groceries. Clementines rolled out of the bag and onto the pavement.

And, just like that, Simon saw red.

“Let go of her!”

He ripped his arm from his mother’s hold and lunged at the reporter, pushing him away from his shaking sister. The reporter, a middle-aged man who had probably been doing this for a long time, released Sara. But, before Simon could pull her away to safety, searing pain exploded at his cheek. He tasted the blood before he even realized what had happened.

His mom and Sara screamed.

The other reporters began to yell at the first one. Things like “What is wrong with you?!” and “Fuck, you can’t touch our sources like that! We’re gonna get sued!”

His name was being called. It sounded like Sara.

But, Simon, feeling dazed and tired, just stared up at the bright blue sky. He didn't even realize he had fallen to the ground. It was a nice day, though.

It should have been an ordinary nice day.

 .....

“Thank you, officer, we really appreciate your help.”

“Just doing our job, ma’am. Please don’t hesitate to call us over if you see any more suspicious individuals around your home. We’ll send someone over, immediately.”

“Thank you.”

Linda bid the police officers a good day and shut the door. With them gone, she finally lowered her mask and allowed the weariness of the day to manifest in her bones. She leaned back against the closed door, letting out the breath she had been holding.

No matter how many times she had dealt with the police, it never failed to make her exhausted. She should be used to this by now.

When she and the kids still lived with Micke, it wasn’t uncommon for neighbors to call the cops to complain about her ex-husband disturbing the peace. Mostly because he was yelling at her and the children. Sometimes, even hurting her. (He never touched the children. Linda never let him. The one and only time he almost laid a hand on Sara was finally when Linda finally gathered her children, important documents, and a few meager possessions and fled into the night.)

Linda believed that they were past all that. That in this new life she built for herself and her children, they would never have to call the police to their home or worry about their safety ever again. But, after what happened to Simon today, she could no longer hold on to that dream. Not for the time being.

She knew what she had to do to keep her son safe, even if it hurt her. Even if Simon would resent her. She hoped he wouldn’t. That he would see that she was doing this for him.

Taking a deep breath to calm herself down, Linda straightened her shoulders, lifted her head, and began to make her way back to the living room, where she could clearly hear her children bickering on the couch.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Sara asked her brother.

“I’m fine,” Simon answered, sounding annoyed. “He didn’t even hit me that hard.”

“You could have hit your head!”

“But, I didn’t.”

“You should have left him alone.”

“He touched you!”

Sara pressed her lips together and looked away as she dabbed ointment to her brother’s bruised lip. Simon flinched, which made his sister’s lips quirk to an amused smile.

But, despite her children looking seemingly okay, joking around and teasing each other the way they always did, Linda couldn't stop looking at that dark mark marring her son’s handsome face. 

Clearing her throat, she stepped into the living room.

“Mi amor, how are you feeling?” she asked, sitting on Simon’s other side.

“I’m fine, mama,” he replied, immediately. “It’s just a scratch, it will heal in a few days.” He grinned. “It makes me look badass though, right?”

Sara snorted. “More like reckless.”

“A reckless badass.”

“Mi amor,” Linda interrupted, gently, not wanting them to start bickering again. “There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

Simon straightened up, looking serious. Linda’s chest felt heavy as she took his hand in hers and stroked it. Sometimes, she wished her children were still small and had no other care in the world except for what candy they could get at the grocery store that week.

“It’s about school,” she began.

“I’ll transfer back to Marieberg,” Simon said, misunderstanding where the conversation was going. “I don’t mind. Sara can stay at Hillerska, she has friends there now, I’m sure she’ll be fine. Besides, Rosh and Ayub are excited to have me back.”

Linda shook her head. “I don’t think you should go back to Marieberg either.”

At that, Simon’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean? I should go to another school? There aren’t any others close by.”

Linda sighed as she looked her son in the eye. “When the… video… first came out...”

Simon flinched and looked down at his feet.

“... I thought about how to… protect you. Especially after what happened today-.”

“Mama, I can handle it,” he interrupted, still unable to look at her. “I was fine today.”

“No, you weren’t,” Sara interjected. “You got punched.”

Simon glared at her. “They’re just reporters, I can handle them.”

Linda squeezed his hand. “It’s not just the reporters, Simon. It’s also… the others. Remember that boy from the other day? He followed you home! He could have hurt you!”

Simon's eyes flashed in anger at the memory. “But, he didn’t, you drove him away. And I would have been fine, I could take him.”

“That doesn’t stop me from worrying!”

Linda ran a hand through her hair, frustrated and cursing her son’s stubbornness. Unfortunately, that was one thing he inherited from Micke.

“Anything could have happened and I can’t protect you! Not at school, not at the grocery store, not even here at home! And do you know what that does to me?! I worry about you every time you’re out of my sight, Simon!” 

Unbidden tears brimmed at Linda’s eyes but she refused to let them fall. She had to be strong. She was making the right decision.

“A few weeks ago, I called your Tia Elena. She already knew what happened, the news reached them...”

“Oh, God!” Closing his eyes, Simon groaned and fell back against the couch.

“… and she actually suggested that… you go to live with her for a while.”

Almost immediately, Simon’s eyes snapped open and he sat up. “What?”

“I wasn’t sure, before, because I don’t want you to be away from us. But, after what happened with that boy from the other day and the reporters today… I think this is the best thing for you.”

“To send me to America?! That’s the best thing for me?!”

Simon pulled his hand away from her hold and stood up, presumably to stalk off to his room.

Linda tried to blink away the tears. “Simon, mi amor, please! This is the only way to keep you safe!”

“You’re sending me away! From you and Sara and my friends! My whole life is here!”

“It’s only until this all dies down, I promise. You can transfer back to Marieberg next school year. But, just for this term. Please, Simon.”

She watched Simon’s stiff back as he processed her pleas.

“W-What about a visa?” he asked and the hope in it broke her heart. “Don’t I need one of those? And they take time, don’t they? By the time they process it, school’s gonna start and I still have to travel and-.”

“You have an appointment with the U.S. Embassy the day after tomorrow,” Linda interrupted. “Your Tia Elena took care of everything. She even sent some money along to help with the fees.”

“Oh.” Simon’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “W-Would they even have room for me?”

“There’s only her and Ana now ever since Ricardo left them. And she says you can work at her store to earn some extra money, if you want.”

From the corner of her eye, Linda spotted Sara, who was unusually quiet. Her daughter was staring at her brother, her face unreadable. It was difficult to read Sara these days. But, Linda hoped that her daughter understood why she was doing this.

Sara didn’t want to leave Hillerska and that was fine, she had gone ahead and applied for that Grant to be a resident. But, even if Simon applied for a Grant too and became a resident, he would still get chased by reporters. He would still get recognized and followed by creeps and people who wanted to do him harm in Bjarstard. But, in America, with Linda’s older sister, he could be safe from the scandal.  

“Is there really no other way?” Simon asked, softly.

Getting to her feet, Linda moved towards her son and wrapped him in her arms.

“Mi amor, I know this is difficult for you. It is for me, too. I want nothing more than for you to stay here in Sweden with me and your sister. But, I want you to be safe. I want people to stop stalking you and bothering you about something so… traumatic. You don’t deserve that. You deserve to go to school and live your life in peace. In America, no one knows who you are. You can live normally again, go to school, and even… date someone new.”

Simon flinched in her arms and she regretted her words.

What Simon had with Wilhelm was truly special, something for the books, the kind of love story you often watch on T.V. and read about in books. She had never seen Simon as happy as he had been when he was with the prince, even if they thought Linda didn’t know. (Of course, she knew! She was his mother!) It was only a shame that their story ended in a tragedy that not only broke her son’s heart but also brought negative and unwanted attention onto his life.

“Simon, please,” she begged. “Just for a few months, I promise, mi amor. And, then, you can come home and life will be back to normal, I’m sure. Please.”

Time felt like it was slowing down as they stood there in the middle of the living room, Simon slowly breaking in her arms and Sara only watching helplessly.

Finally, her son let out a breath. “Okay,” he said in a soft voice. “I’ll go.”

Linda burst into tears and buried her face against the fabric of Simon’s orange sweatshirt.

Despite her own heart breaking into pieces at the thought of being away from her son, she was also so incredibly relieved.

 ......... 

The Christmas break was too long, in Wilhelm’s opinion.

He spent most of it making required public appearances, sitting in on council meetings, and attending royal parties. He went about his duties like a robot, his emotions numb and something in him broken. His mother thought he would get over it if she threw enough things at him to keep him busy enough to not think of Simon. But, obviously, it didn’t work.

Simon was the first thing on his mind when he woke up in the mornings and the last thing he thought of before he slept at night. He had tried texting but his texts went unanswered. His calls would result in just ring after ring after ring until voicemail picked up. He spent many hours just scrolling through Simon’s Instagram, not seeing any new posts. Rosh, Ayub, and Sara had all blocked him so he couldn’t even see any posts of Simon, if there were any.

During the yearly Christmas party hosted by the Royal family, it was normally Erik who had to socialize and make nice with all the nobility and distant relatives who came. But, this year, Wilhelm had to do it. And it was fine, at first. He managed to remember some names and those he didn’t remember, he managed to sidestep with a polite “sir” or “ma’am.” But, then… But, then!

His mother introduced to him the daughter of a Duke whose name he couldn’t remember. With the way his mother smiled and practically pushed the girl to his side, Wilhelm knew exactly what she was doing. It ruined the rest of the party for him, as well as that poor girl’s Christmas. Wilhelm was so annoyed that he ignored her when she tried to make conversation. Eventually, he caused her to break into tears when he bluntly said that he didn’t care who designed her dress.

The Queen tried to scold him, called him a disgrace, and demanded that he get himself together. Wilhelm only shot her a blank look, excused himself, and left the party.

There were no more attempts at setting him up after that.

So, when Christmas break ended and it was time to return to Hillerska, he was relieved. He dutifully packed his things, including the small Christmas gift he got for Simon. He was hoping that even if they couldn’t restart their relationship, they could still be friends. Wilhelm would take anything Simon was able to offer him right now, even if it wasn’t what he wanted.

“Your Royal Highness,” Malin called through the door. “You’re supposed to be at the church in ten minutes.”

“Thanks, Malin!” Wilhelm called back to her.

The prince looked over his appearance in the mirror one last time, making sure his school tie was tied properly and his jacket free of lint. Not that Simon would care about those, but Wilhelm wanted to look his best, for once. He even got a haircut over break. He wondered if Simon did, too. He couldn’t wait to see him.

Feeling the anticipation brimming inside him, Wilhelm made his way out of his room. He joined the others in leaving Forest Ridge to head to the church. Ahead of him, Henry and Walter waved, pausing to let him catch up to them.

Despite their initial impression on Wilhelm, they really did mellow out the more he got to know them. And when the video came out, they were the only ones who didn’t look at him weirdly (at least, not blatantly to his face) and never once asked about the video. They even texted him a Merry Christmas over break. He would take their company over August’s.

And, speaking of the devil, there was his traitor of a cousin now, pushing through the other boys to get to him. Wilhelm quickened his steps, not wanting to get caught in a conversation. He had successfully avoided him during the Christmas party at the palace after giving firm instructions to Malin and Johan to ensure that he didn’t get close to Wilhelm.

Luckily, his bodyguards were most likely doing exactly that as Wilhelm made it to the church and slipped into a pew without August catching up to him. Henry and Walter slid in after him, chatting about their holidays.

“Wonder what they’re singing this time,” Walter wondered aloud.

“Hope it’s something good,” Henry added.

Wilhelm only smiled, his annoyance at August finally melting away and replaced by excitement to see Simon and hear him sing again. Christmas break was too long.

Finally, the whole church had filled up and the Headmaster signaled for everyone to be quiet.

The choir entered.

Wilhelm spotted Felice and gave her a small wave. She had remained a great friend to him throughout the break.

As the choir began their song, Wilhelm scanned the heads, looking for that familiar head of curls. Someone else was doing a solo this time, a girl he didn’t know and her voice was nice but it wasn’t Simon. Why wasn’t Simon doing the solo?

Wilhelm couldn’t even hear the song or decipher the lyrics. His eyes desperately scanned all three rows but he couldn’t spot Simon.

Where was Simon?!?! Did he miss the first day of school?!?!

But, Sara was just a few pews ahead. She wouldn’t leave home without her brother.

The excitement that had earlier filled him turned into fear.

Did Simon quit the choir?!

Not caring about how it looked, Wilhelm scanned the pews across from them and the pews behind him, trying to spot those curls. But… he couldn’t see them. Not one strand.

The choir had finished singing now and the Headmaster had stood up to welcome them to another semester, go over the rules of the dorms, and list the school administration’s expectations from their students.

All of it went over Wilhelm’s head.

And, finally, they were dismissed to go to their first class of the day.

Wilhelm shot up and, muttering apologies to Henry and Walter, made his way out of the pew. He ignored the “hello’s” sent his way and hurried to the front.

Sara and Maddie were chatting with each other as they made their way down the aisle, all excited smiles and talking about how wonderfully Felice sang.

“Sara!”

The girl slowed down and froze upon seeing him. He saw the anger flash in those normally calm eyes. Then, she turned her gaze away and walked past him.

Wilhelm was not giving up.

He turned around and gave chase. “Sara! Sara, wait! I just need to ask you something.”

“I have nothing to say to you, Prince,” she seethed, not stopping.

He hated to do it but he gently grasped the arm of her school jacket. “Please, I need to ask you. Where’s Simon?”

Sara pulled her arm away, glaring at him. “Why do you ask?”

Wilhelm swallowed. “He didn’t sing with the choir. And I can’t find him anywhere and I just-.”

“He doesn’t go to Hillerska anymore.”

Wilhelm’s heart stopped. “What?”

Sara shrugged, turned on her heels, and walked away. Maddie shot Wilhelm a pitying look before hurrying off after her.  

His chest felt tight. And it seemed like there wasn’t enough air for him to breathe.

Simon... left?

#young royals #young royals netflix #simon x wilhelm #young royals fanfic

[writinglizards]

Make me Happy

Summary: "I was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend. Make me happy, and I shall again be virtuous." - Mary Shelley's Frankenstein He is created. He is abandoned. He is found.

Read on Ao3

The first thing he knows is agony.

He feels set on fire from the inside, bright white pain arcing through his veins. He cries out, voice hoarse. The sharpness of it ceases as quickly as it came, but the ache persists.

A clatter to his left draws his attention. He shifts. Distantly, he’s aware of the scratch and shift of the rough-hewn shirt and trousers he’s dressed in, but there are larger concerns, at the moment. His limbs feel awkward but otherwise cooperative, so sits up.

There is a man across the room with his back pressed against the counter. White hair, a beard. The man’s face is drawn in an expression he can’t parse. Beneath the man’s feet are shards of glass.

He doesn't understand where he is or what's going on. He opens his mouth to speak--and finds he doesn't know the words to communicate this. He makes a quiet, wordless sound, questioning. He hopes it's enough for the man to understand. He so wants answers.

In response, the man jolts for the door.

He starts at the abrupt movement, makes another quiet noise of surprise, reaches out a hand toward him, wait, please--

The man makes a shrill noise, "Stay away, you, you--" he flings the door open after a brief scrabbling with the lock and bolts, a high pitched terrified noise leaving his throat. He throws the door closed behind him, but it hits the doorframe and bounces back, hard.

He follows because he doesn't know what else to do. The other man is scared. Should he be scared?

He lets the smell of terror, sickly and awful, lead him down a spiral staircase and out a partly concealed door onto the street where he's abruptly hit with an overwhelming wave of scents and sounds. It's too much for him to understand; all he knows is he needs to find the man again. He hopes he can help.

He sees someone, not the man from the room, on the street a few feet away. He approaches, timid. He's trying to work out how to ask what he wants to know--where did the man from the room go?--when he catches the other's attention.

"What the--what the fuck?" He doesn't understand the words, but the tone--the man spins on his heel and sprints away, terrified. It catches the attention of several people up the street. The first man was scared, but these men--help, maybe?

He takes a few slow steps in their direction, still trying to figure out how to ask what he wants to know when he catches the glint of steel. He freezes. He takes quick stock of their expressions, the naked weapons in their grips, and hesitates.

"You'll get the fuck out of here if you know what's good for you, monster." He doesn't understand, doesn't know how to respond in a way that will ease the aggression of their posture. He just wants help.

"Well? Get," one of the men shouts, rapping the flat of his blades together. It makes a harsh sound, makes him whine with how the sharp noise hurts. He ducks his head, cups his hands over his ears to try and make the hurt stop. "I said get," the man shouts again, repeats the movement of his weapons. He keens, a low, quiet sound full of pain. He doesn't understand--

"You got to the count of fucking three," another says, and he doesn't wait for them to make the noise again. He runs.

Every person he sees in his mad dash down the street and away from the pain reacts similarly. Either they flee or they bare steel and make threats, loud and angry. The mixing scents, the noises, his own fear, it's all too much. He doesn't know where he is or where he's going. He just runs.

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

By the time the sun is beginning to rise, he's finally broken out of the rows and rows of buildings and into the trees, where he runs until his lungs burn and his feet hurt before he collapses in the shade at the base of a tree. He doesn't know where he is or what's going on, doesn't understand the fear and hostility of the people he'd seen. He sits there, somewhere in the middle of the forest, and finally feels it hit him. He doesn't know, he doesn't understand. He sits and he cries, deep chest wracking sobs, until he's too tired to keep his eyes open. He curls himself up small and tight in the roots of the tree, and sleeps.

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

He's woken some indeterminate time later, to the sound of footsteps. Lots of them. The sky is going grey at the edges, so he knows he must have slept a while. There's shouting coming from the direction he came from yesterday, words he can't understand in a tone he can--they sound like the men who made the awful noise.

"If you see that fuckin beast, just kill 'em. No need to leave him loose to terrorize the city again."

“Nah, the mage wants ‘em. Said--”

“I know what he said and I’m saying just kill ‘em.”

They're not that far. He knows enough now that he doesn't want to run into these people, doesn't want a repeat of last night. He rises very quietly, and treks farther into the forest, away from the sounds of the approaching men. He'll walk all night if he has to.

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

He walks until he can't hear them any longer, and then he keeps walking, for good measure. He walks until he stumbles across another group of buildings, much smaller than the one he'd fled last night. He lingers at the edge of the trees, watching a trio of young women leaning against a wooden fence not far, talking. One of the women has something she appears to be eating in her hand, and his own stomach growls loudly in reminder that he has eaten nothing since...he doesn't know when.

These women look nothing like the men with their weapons, which is the only reason he steps out of his hiding spot in the trees, starts towards them.

"Sara, look--" one of the women catches sight of him and goes pale. She steps backward, hands shaking, and he freezes. He doesn't want them to be afraid. He only wants--

The one eating turns to look back over her shoulder and their eyes meet. She drops the thing she'd been eating. There's a shriek--the third woman--and then all three of them are running pell-mell back towards the rest of the buildings.

He tamps down on his hurt and darts forward to scoop the food off the ground--an...apple?--and then he's running again, farther into the forest. He knows better than to stick around for the angry men and their weapons.

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

He doesn't pause until he feels he's far enough away he'll be able to hear anyone coming with enough warning to escape. He settles at the base of a tree and gnaws on the apple slowly, trying to savor the small thing. It's a little better than nothing, but it reminds him he's hungry, sets his stomach to rolling uncomfortably. When he's gnawed the thing down to its core he finally sets it aside, disappointed.

He’ll have to see if he can find more food, or venture back towards the buildings to see if there’s anything he might be able to take that won’t be missed. But not tonight.

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

In the end, he ends up doing quite a bit of stealing from the village at night while he hides in the trees during the day, watching the way the people interact with one another. He feels bad about just taking, but there’s nothing much that can be done for it--there’s no easily accessible food in the forest and the people still spook and run at the sight of him.

So that’s the way he survives, for a bit. It's not a comfortable existence and he knows the people of the little town both know he's there and are upset by it. He tries not to scare them, only slips down into their fields at night, when most are asleep, only takes as much food as he needs to quell the emptiness in his stomach.

Watching the people interact with one another is helpful, though, even if he can’t approach them. The field workers do a lot of talking to one another as they work, and over time he starts to pick up what the words mean, in a roundabout kind of way. So he lingers and he watches and he hopes for...something he can't put a name to.

He's finally forced to move on when he tries to slip down into the town about three weeks later and there are men with swords again, lining the outskirts of the village. He knows enough about people at this point from what he's observed and he doesn't want problems. He moves on, just picks a direction and starts walking.

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

When he stumbles across a tiny cottage out in the woods all on its own, he assumes it must be abandoned--people don't live alone, after all. He would investigate further, but the sun is already peeking over the horizon, sky dusting pink, and he knows he needs to find somewhere to settle before daybreak.

There are several little shacks sprinkled around the clearing that he doesn’t know the purpose of so he picks one--the shack behind the cottage--to test the door and finds it unlocked. It's a storage shed and moderately well-stocked, despite how the little room seems to be on the verge of collapse. He settles to the ground on the far side of a crate and tucks himself into a tight little ball. He'll stay here today and investigate more closely tonight.

Shortly, he dozes.

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

He wakes much too soon to the sound of...something. He's never heard it before, this softly twanging noise. It's good. Nice.

He knows it must be well past mid-day from the way the light slants in through the chinks in the walls. He's just thinking it's too early to try venturing out when the singing starts, soft and lovely and he thinks, oh, It's a person.

He rises very slowly and quietly and crosses the tiny storeroom to the wall that's shared with the cottage. The music is a little louder here, and he can make out the words, a story of a knight saving a fair maiden and true love's kiss. He can understand what those words mean a bit now--language has come slowly, but he's getting better at piecing together bits and pieces from the things he's heard, although not all of it makes sense all the time. And well, some things just feel right, like he's known them all his life. Language has been a little like that, even if speaking is a challenge.

So he can follow the story, vaguely, even as the song ends and another quickly takes its place. He hears no other voices or movement in the adjoining room, just that smooth tenor singing of heroics and heartbreak. He settles down beside the wall, rests his temple against the rough wood grain, and listens.

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

He wakes again an indeterminate time later. It's late, the sun is down and the man in the cottage sounds as if he's retired for the night. It's quiet. He...probably shouldn't stay here, but it's warm and quiet and the man sings so beautifully. He borrows a small meal of hard bread from the stores and tells himself he won't be back when he slips out of the storeroom to stretch his legs.

By the time the sun rises, he's tucked back into the storeroom anyway, curled up against the wall that joins the cottage. What's one more day?

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

One day becomes two days becomes a whole week. He's reluctant to leave the security of the little storeroom, the pleasant singing. A few days in, he finds a chink in the wall that lets him see into the cottage room and he now spends his daylight hours pressed to that wall, watching, listening. The man is...beautiful. He looks like they would be of a height, even if the man is a little leaner than he himself is. Despite that, the man is still broad-shouldered and strong looking, with brilliant blue eyes and a sweep of brown hair he can only think of as pretty. And he can tell the man is not just beautiful; he’s also intelligent, witty. He talks to himself constantly, sings, reads, dances his way around the room. The man moves through life as if he has not a care in the world. He wants so badly to be a part of that.

Despite how much he yearns to join the man, he still won't reveal himself, too afraid of the potential reaction to him. He finds himself growing attached, despite how much he shouldn’t. If this soft and delightful man is as afraid as the village people were, it will break him.

So he watches and he dreams and he tries to help around the cottage, at night. It starts with some chopped wood when the woodpile gets a little too low, which the man reacts to with delighted confusion. Then it's a few rabbits and other small animals, here and there, to replenish some of the food stores he's been dipping into to feed himself.

"Well, looks like we've got ourselves an admirer," the man says softly the morning he finds the first rabbit. He'd been...nervous about leaving the little thing. Nervous it might upset or scare the man. Instead, he looks...pleased. He smiles all day, even when he comes back in from caring for the chickens, which he knows the man dislikes. It's nice, kindles a warm feeling in his chest.

He wants to be the cause of that smile more often.

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

A few days later, he wakes to the sound of more than just the man in the yard out front. There are several people he can't see but he can hear them, carrying things to and fro.

"Jaskier, where do you want this?" one of them asks.

"Oh, that's fine there," the man says. Something flutters in his chest. Jaskier.

There's a few more crates the other men bring into the cottage that he can see through his chink in the wall. The man, Jaskier, watches the stacking of these crates on the far side of the cottage along with another man who stands at his elbow. Compared to Jaskier, the man is very broad and well built with short cropped dark hair. He carries a sword on his hip and stands like he'd be ready to draw it at a moment's notice. He reminds him of the men who'd threatened him the first night.

"I should also warn you there's been sightings of some kind of monster lately." Jaskier turns to the man with the sword, effectively presenting his back to the chink in the wall. He wishes he could see his face.

"What kind of monster? Monsters have been gone for almost a hundred years."

The other man is already shaking his head, "not a monster, monster, no. This is some kind of abomination. Looks like a man but...not. Wrong. He's been spotted at one of the nearby villages as little as a few weeks ago."

"And? How do they know he's a monster then?"

The man puffs out a tired sounding breath, "I'm just relating what I heard, Jaskier. I don't know."

"Of course not," he says, tetchy. There's something beyond the words that have upset him.

"Look, I--"

Jaskier pulls away from the hand hovering over his shoulder. "I don't care, Vincent."

"Jask, you know I didn't--"

"We're not talking about us," Jaskier says, tone sharp in a way he's never heard, "just...let the men finish and then you can run on home to father and tell him what a good little disowned son I've been, hm?"

Jaskier doesn't give him a chance to respond, just steps over to watch the men bringing in the crates more closely, steps just a little too heavy.

When they're gone, he watches Jaskier cry, head in his hands. It makes his chest uncomfortably tight but there's nothing he can do.

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

When night falls and he's sure Jaskier is asleep (and he feels a little flutter of delight in his gut when he thinks the man's name, elated that he knows it after all this time), he slips out of the storeroom and into the pooling moonlight of the little clearing, stretching his legs. His goal tonight is to chop some more wood so Jaskier will have enough to stay warm tomorrow. Then...maybe a walk. He'd seen some blackberry bushes a few nights ago. Maybe he'd pick some, leave them for him in the morning.

The wood chopping goes quickly and he stacks the split logs nicely with the other chopped wood against the wall by the front door. He does so quietly, not wanting to rouse his sleeping friend. Not that he thinks it likely the man will rouse tonight. He'd been somber the rest of the day and he'd cried again, curled in his bed when he should have been sleeping. He finds he wants to do something to ease the unhappiness that's settled over him since the men had come by.

It's with that thought he wanders off in search of those blackberries. He takes one of the wooden buckets Jaskier usually uses for gathering eggs and sets off to find the blackberry bushes.

They're right where he remembered them, just a short walk from the little pond where the ducks gather from time to time. He goes about picking them to fill the bucket, careful of their little thorns. He gets the bucket three-fourths or so full before he calls it good. By then, he's covered in sticky juice and the sun should be up soon. He's got just enough time to visit the pond, wash off his hands and leave the bucket out front before he’ll settle back in the storage room.

The pond is silent and still when he wanders up, the bucket dangling from one hand. He sets it aside on the shore and kneels at the edge of the pond. He tries not to peer into his reflection in the water, even as the moonlight reflects back off its surface.

Unbidden, then man's words resurface in his mind. Like a man but not. Wrong. He knows he looks...different. There are harsh scars scattering his face, his temples, his arms, his torso. His eyes are wrong, too bright, too strange a color. His hair is unnatural, too pale, too wild. He understands why the villagers are startled by him, understands why they react with fear. He's...wrong. He just doesn't know what to do about it.

He pushes the thoughts from his mind and doesn't let himself linger. Instead, he washes up quickly and treks back over to the cottage. He leaves the bucket of berries on the doorstep and retreats to the storeroom.

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

He rouses just a little when Jaskier rises. He listens to him sing and go about his morning routine with half an ear, still mostly asleep. The sound of his friend awake and back to normal is a comfort, so it's disturbing the way he abruptly goes silent when the door creaks open.

"Oh--" he's obviously found the berries. The quiet stretches out for a beat too long and then there's a sniffling noise. "Shit," Jaskier mutters. The door clunks back shut. He hears the noise of the bucket being sat down somewhere in the cottage. "'s stupid to fucking cry over berries, Jask, pull it together," he tells himself, voice thick with tears.

He can't help the surge of alarm that rolls through him--he didn't mean to make Jaskier cry. He presses his face to the wood, eye at the chink in the wall, and is surprised to find him smiling despite the tears, gazing down into the bucket of berries as if they are something far more precious as he wipes aggressively at his eyes with the heel of his hand.

"Blackberries," he repeats, once his breathing is a little more under control, "I'll have to make a pie." He's still smiling. Maybe they weren't such a bad idea, after all.

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

Jaskier continues with his daily routine after that, and he lets himself sleep again, after a time. He's fairly attuned with the noises of Jaskier going about his day, so he doesn't startle when Jaskier begins going through the crates of supplies the men brought yesterday. By the time he realizes what that means, Jaskier's already at the door of the storage shed, dried goods tucked under his arm.

He lays very, very still where he's curled in the corner, pressed against the wall of the cottage, eyes squeezed shut, and waits for the inevitable.

The gasp is expected. The sound of the bundle Jaskier is carrying hitting the ground is as well. What is not expected is the hands that land on his shoulder, tug him over gently. He blinks up at the face of the man he's only watched from a distance, startled. He expected revulsion, fear, the sound of footsteps fleeing. Instead, he's peering down at him with concern.

"Oh, thank the gods you're alive," he sighs out on a breath, patting reassuringly at his shoulder where his hands still rest. "What are you doing in my storage shed, darling?"

And oh, this is...not something he'd been prepared for. He swallows hard and can't seem to force words out.

"You don't have to tell me," Jaskier says softly, "but let's get you inside, alright? It can't be comfortable out here."

He follows in a daze when Jaskier tugs him gently upright and leads him into the cottage. This doesn't feel real. He must be dreaming. Why else would Jaskier be looking at him like that?

"Have you had anything to eat? Are you hungry?" Jaskier asks once he's settled at the table. He at least can follow that much so he shakes his head, still afraid to speak. Jaskier jumps to preparing him a small meal of hard cheese and fresh bread. “Sorry, I haven’t had the chance to make that pie yet,” he says as he sets the little plate before him and settles across the table from him, smiling. "Go on, eat," he says, and he doesn't have to be told twice.

The food is the best thing he's ever tasted. The pleased look never falls off Jaskier's face. "Thank you," he whispers once the plate is empty, wincing when the words fall rough like gravel from his disused throat.

"Oh," Jaskier breathes, freezing with his hand outstretched to take the empty plate. He thinks maybe he's made a mistake, but Jaskier's smile stretches impossibly wider, eyes sparkling, "you're very welcome, dear heart." The look on Jaskier’s face, that tone, settles something warm in his chest.

Jaskier puts the plate on the counter and resumes his seat. He doesn't know what to do with himself in the face of Jaskier's kindness and keeps his eyes averted. Jaskier doesn't give him time to start feeling self-conscious, though.

"I'm Jaskier. Do you have a name, darling? Something I can call you?" And he knows Jaskier’s asking a question but--

Jaskier can tell his mistake almost immediately. “Oh! Um,” he fumbles to press his hand to his chest, “Jaskier,” he repeats, and he nods. Then, tentatively, Jaskier holds out his hand to him. He doesn’t move, not quite sure what Jaskier means until his palm makes careful contact with his chest. His breath catches. “You?”

He shakes his head, understanding that Jaskier is asking for his name. He feels a bubble of shame rise in him. It's not his fault he doesn't have something to go by like everyone else, he knows, but that doesn't lessen the feeling he's let his friend down.

"Oh, sweetheart," Jaskier breathes, and he doesn't sound upset. Or at least, not at him. "What should we call you then?” He looks thoughtful for a minute before, “Hold on, I’ve an idea.”

Jaskier rises and crosses the room, bringing back something from one of the shelves. “I’ve got a book here,” Jaskier says, settling it on the table in front of him, “It’s a storybook, but I could read you the names of the characters here until you find one you like?” and that was a lot of words but…“Just nod if you hear one you like, yes?” He can do that.

So Jaskier flips through the book, stopping periodically to read out the names as he finds them. And they’re...fine. But none of the names sound right to him.

“Hm, Eric?” He shakes his head, “No, I agree, too bland. Jakob? No? Alright then, Alice? That’s typically a lady’s name but--nope okay, um, Geralt?”

And that’s--“Yes,” he says softly. Something about that feels right.

The smile on Jaskier's face is small and delighted. "You want to be called Geralt?"

"Mm." And something about choosing the name makes his face hot. He ducks his head.

The grin that stretches Jaskier’s face looks like it hurts it's so wide. "A good name. Heroic. Kind." His gaze softens as he reaches across the table to rest his palm on Geralt's forearm. The touch is reassuring, even as he burns hot under Jaskier's fingertips. "It suits you."

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

He doesn't pressure Geralt for an explanation of anything, but he reassures him several times that he can stay, that it's no trouble. He even sets him up with new clothes, soft cotton that isn’t as scratchy as what he’d been wearing.

"Really Geralt, I have to insist. I won't be able to rest knowing you're out there somewhere with nowhere to stay. And," he continues, “if you stay long enough, I’ll even send for some clothes of your own, if you’d like.” And well. He can't let Jaskier worry (and the new clothes would be nice, too).

He sleeps on the little divan and marvels at how quickly Jaskier drifts off, breaths evening into sleep. The trust inherent in the action shakes him to his core. He follows a while later, chest overly tight.

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

They settle into a habit surprisingly quickly in the weeks that follow. Geralt picks up many of the tasks he'd already been performing for Jaskier in the twilight hours and Jaskier provides excellent company. He still sings and plays his lute in the evenings, preening to have an audience that Geralt is happy to provide.

He's thankful Jaskier asks no questions, although it's obvious Jaskier would like to know more about him, about what happened. He catches him staring at the scars when he thinks Geralt isn't looking, but it's not with revulsion. Geralt can't name the emotion on his face, but it's not a bad one necessarily.

There's only one question he does ask.

"So, do you know who my admirer is?" he says finally. Geralt’s just starting to feel truly comfortable here with Jaskier and is less worried about Jaskier changing his mind about keeping Geralt around. He’s proven he’s helpful and he’s trying very, very hard not to scare him (he’s beginning to think Jaskier can’t be scared, actually).

Geralt's in the middle of chopping wood when he asks. "Because you know, it was really very sweet of them." He's grinning.

"Uh," is the very elegant response Geralt comes up with, cheeks hot. He’s not sure why he’s embarrassed. Jaskier obviously knows it was him. He chops the next piece of wood with a singular focus, doesn't shift his gaze back over to Jaskier.

"He must have very fine arms. He chopped all my wood for weeks, you know," Jaskier says offhand, and oh. He's teasing. His tone is friendly. Geralt only flushes harder. He’s not sure why Jaskier can fluster him so quickly. "Not as good as yours, I'm sure," he continues, and Geralt nearly jumps when Jaskier's hand settles on his bicep, squeezing. "Mm, not sure anyone's as deliciously built as you are, darling."

"Jaskier," he finally bites out, mortified. He feels--he feels--he doesn’t know the word for it, but he’s pretty sure it’s not appropriate. Jaskier laughs.

"It's alright sweetheart," he grins and shoots him a wink, "your secret's safe with me." And Geralt doesn't know what to do with himself, but he likes the way his stomach clenches when Jaskier touches him, the soft way he speaks. And he does trust that he's safe with him. It's...reassuring.

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

Despite how safe Geralt feels, he still can't bring himself to tell Jaskier how he ended up hiding in his storeroom. He's fairly certain Jaskier won't care at this point, but every time he tries to say something, he finds the words have abandoned him. Unlike Jaskier, he struggles to voice his thoughts, even when he has the words neatly arranged in his head. Jaskier reassures him that it's fine, not everyone is gifted with their speech and it's normal for words not to work the way you'd like, but it frustrates him anyway. He...cares...about Jaskier. He’s…different. He wants to share this part of himself with him. He just doesn't know how.

His efforts are further complicated by the way his stomach flips uncomfortably every time Jaskier is close. He's not an idiot, he knows what it means (Jaskier is a big fan of love ballads, the raunchier the better, he says and it’s…that) but it feels...dishonest to entertain Jaskier's subtle flirting, especially when Jaskier knows nothing about who he really is, how he came to be. After all, who could love a monster?

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

"Geralt," Jaskier calls from his mound of blankets as Geralt stokes the fire for the last time that night, "come to bed with me, darling."

Geralt can feel himself flush. "Jaskier," he admonishes, but Jaskier only laughs, lifts the corner of the blanket invitingly.

"It's been cold at night and it will only get colder. Come on, Geralt." He bats his eyes enticingly, pats the corner of the mattress again.

"I can't," he says, quiet, and something in Jaskier's expression softens.

"Alright, darling," he says, letting the blankets fall closed around him, "but that's a standing invitation."

"Hm."

Jaskier doesn't press further, but Geralt lays awake thinking about it for far longer than he should.

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

"I'm a viscount," Jaskier says apropos of nothing a few days later. It's early morning and they're outside, returning from the chicken coop. Geralt turns to where Jaskier's stopped in the middle of the yard, bucket of chicken eggs forgotten on the ground beside him. "Or at least, I used to be. My father disowned me about a year ago now."

"Why?" Geralt asks, because Jaskier seems to need the encouragement. He wouldn't have brought it up if he hadn't wanted Geralt to know.

"I...embarrassed him. With who I chose to take to my bed." He's staring hard at the tree line opposite the cottage. He's not even facing Geralt. "My father's head of the guard. Vincent."

The name brings to mind the day the crates were delivered. The man with the sword who stood too close.

"I was disowned either way and I knew that, but Vincent..." he trails off.

"Thank you, Jaskier. You don't have to tell me." His eyes meet Geralt's finally and he smiles. It's a tiny, watery thing.

"No I--he chose to stay. With my father. And I'm...here. It bothered me. For a long time." He's quiet so long Geralt thinks maybe that's the end of it, but when he steps forward to stand shoulder to shoulder with Jaskier, he keeps talking. "I thought...who would want a disowned viscount? Vincent certainly didn't. I'm damaged goods."

"Jaskier, you're not damaged," Geralt says, horrified at the prospect. Jaskier is...wonderful (even if he talks a little too much for Geralt's taste, sometimes). How could anyone think him lesser for loving who he loved?

Jaskier extends his hand to catch Geralt's and squeezes tightly. Geralt squeezes back, stomach fluttering when Jaskier smiles at him. "I know," he says softly, "and I know you’re not ready to talk about yourself yet, but whatever it is, it’s okay, okay?" And when Jaskier says that, looking at him the way he is, Geralt can almost believe him.

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

They settle deeper into their routine, something Jaskier calls "disgustingly domestic" with a smile that nearly splits his face, so Geralt's pretty sure he doesn't think it's a bad thing, actually. Geralt certainly enjoys it.

Jaskier talks incessantly about anything and everything and Geralt likes listening.

“You know,” Jaskier says one night, after he’s wound down his playing and put the lute away, “I haven’t had many guests out here since I was disowned. It’s been...nice.”

“Why not?” Geralt asks, stoking the fire before settling back on the fur rug. Geralt can’t understand why someone wouldn’t want to spend time with Jaskier.

“Being disowned is…” he pauses, obviously searching for the right words, “it’s not something that’s done lightly. It means the people I grew up with, the people who were close to me, they can’t see me anymore, or risk having their own reputation tarnished.”

Geralt feels his lips twitch in a frown. Jaskier laughs.

“Oh, don’t make that face, I know. But that’s how it is. I’ve spent some time with the village locals, but it’s...not the same. I’m still nobility to them and I’m no longer nobility to the actual nobles.” He shrugs, but Geralt can see the thought still bothers him.

“You were lonely,” Geralt says. He’s not sure he should have pointed it out, but Jaskier doesn’t seem angry.

“I was,” he agrees softly. Something in his eyes pins Geralt to the spot, “until you.”

And that’s...too much to think about. “Hm.”

The smile that creeps over Jaskier’s face is blinding. “Yes,” he agrees, “hm, indeed.”

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

"My father's men should be stopping by in the next few weeks," Jaskier says on a morning like any other.

"Did you want me--"

"No," Jaskier corrects hastily before Geralt can offer to hide, "No, I want you here. I just--wanted to give you a heads up."

"Oh."

They don't talk about it again. They probably should have.

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

"Jaskier?" Geralt calls across the small space of the cottage, sitting up.

There's banging outside. People. Jaskier shifts in his cocoon of blankets that is his bed, only the top of his head visible. "No," he mumbles fuzzily, "don't wanna." He's...not really awake.

"Jaskier," Geralt rumbles, voice still thick with sleep himself, "we should--"

He doesn't get to finish his sentence before the door is swinging open and a man is striding through. When he sees Geralt, his hand lands on his sword.

"Jaskier, what the fuck--"

"Vincent," Jaskier gasps, nearly tripping in his haste to extract himself from the blankets. He’s eyeing the space between Vincent and Geralt with panic, "ever heard of fucking knocking?" he bites out, shifting to put himself between them as much as possible.

"Jaskier, you've got a--"

"Don't finish that sentence," he says, tone flat and threatening, "and I'd appreciate it if you'd give my companion and I some fucking privacy. I'll meet you in the yard in a moment."

Vincent's hand tightens around the pommel of his sword, "I don't think--" he starts, but the look Jaskier pins him with is cutting. He hesitates, but he leaves without another word, pulling the door shut behind him.

"Fucking prick," Jaskier growls, stalking over to his wardrobe to put on some clothes before facing their company.

"I should--" Geralt starts, but Jaskier cuts him off.

"You should get dressed and let me drag you around the yard to hang off of while I make sure my father hasn't fucking shorted me on supplies. I'm already disowned, what more can he do to me?" The grin on Jaskier's face is brittle.

When they exit the cottage, Vincent is hovering by the door, obviously nervous. He's still got his hand wrapped around the pommel of his sword like a lifeline. Jaskier scoffs at it, but Geralt stays carefully back and works to make his posture non-threatening.

"Jaskier," Vincent says the minute he's out the door, "what is--"

"This is Geralt," Jaskier cuts in smoothly, "my companion." Vincent winces.

"He's--"

"My companion," Jaskier reinforces.

"The mage in Novigrad is looking for him." Geralt stiffens.

"I assure you we have no idea what you mean," Jaskier bites out, even as Geralt feels his stomach drop uncomfortably. The mage. The man from the room. He no longer cares one way or the other who the man is or what he wanted from Geralt. He’s happy here, he doesn’t want to leave. Vincent opens his mouth to respond, but he snaps his jaw shut a moment later with no protest.

"Okay," he sighs. Then-- "Where do you want the supplies?"

The men don't stay any longer than they need to, but it's a tense affair for everyone involved. Jaskier takes Geralt's hand in his and doesn't let go until long after Vincent and his underlings have left.

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

The rest of the day, Jaskier’s filled with a frantic sort of energy. He breezes through chores, drags Geralt on a walk with him out to the pond where he paces the water’s edge for near an hour before they head back. And it doesn’t dissipate even after they’ve returned to the cottage and had dinner.

The fire’s lit and Geralt is settled on the fur rug before it the way he normally does. Usually, this is about the time Jaskier would fetch his lute, or perhaps a book to read from. Instead, he’s still pacing.

“Jaskier,” Geralt finally says, breaking his focus as he comes up short in another circuit of the room, “come sit. Your pacing makes my head hurt.”

“Sorry,” he huffs, flopping down beside him with a heavy sigh. He leans against Geralt’s side for a bit, but he’s still restless, still shifting.

“Jaskier,” Geralt says again and Jaskier sighs hard. He pulls away only to lay beside him, pillowing his head on Geralt’s thigh. Immediately, Geralt slips his fingers into Jaskier’s hair, soothing.

"So that was awful," Jaskier mutters.

"Mm."

He rolls so his face is pressed to Geralt's stomach. Geralt's fingers stay tangled in his hair, gently petting.

"I don’t want you to go," Jaskier says into the silence, muffled against Geralt's bulk.

Geralt’s chest siezes.

“I know you aren’t ready to tell me anything and that’s okay, but I--” his breath is warm against the thin cloth of Geralt’s shirt, “If that mage really is looking for you, I don’t want you to go,” he repeats, voice small.

Geralt feels as if his throat has closed. "I'm--I want to stay here,” he forces out, swallowing roughly. He should explain because Jaskier doesn’t know, but Jaskier sags with relief, presses his face closer to Geralt's stomach, fingers digging into his side and Geralt doesn’t want to take that relief from him, not now.

"That's--I'm glad." They don't say anything else for a long time as the fire burns down.

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

Geralt can’t stop thinking about the fact Jaskier doesn’t know, though. He needs to tell him. So that he’ll understand. Geralt owes it to him to tell him, whether he wants to or not. And if Jaskier wants him gone after? It will hurt, but he’ll go.

"Jaskier, do you have a minute?" he asks while Jaskier's tuning his lute that evening. He'd been getting ready to play, as he usually does.

"Of course, sweetheart. What is it?" he asks, strumming through a simple, uncomplicated tune. He meets Geralt's eyes with a playful smile, but his expression sobers when he sees the seriousness in Geralt's gaze.

"You asked me," he says carefully, "about before."

"Only if you're comfortable, dear. You don't have to--"

"No," he says, "I do." He needs to understand. He drops his gaze to his lap where he's wringing his hands together nervously. He stills them with effort, but that only makes the scars there stand out more starkly. He startles when Jaskier catches his hands in his own, traces those scars tenderly with lute-calloused fingertips.

"Well then, I'm listening," he says and smiles, small and encouraging when Geralt's gaze flickers back up to his face. It makes his chest tight. He doesn't deserve this. Jaskier. He tries to take in his face now, that tender care, that concern. Just in case it’s gone, after. So he knows. So he can remember.

Despite the fear churning in his gut, he takes a deep breath and starts talking, gaze glued to their still joined hands.

"My earliest memory is--uh. I. I woke up in a...room. I didn't know where I was. There was...a man. The mage, I guess." Jaskier is very, very still but his thumbs rub soothing circles against the back of his hands, a grounding point of contact.

"I tried to ask him what was going on, but I--" he trails off, unsure how to phrase what he means. He shakes his head. "--I didn't know how. I didn't have the words. And I--scared him. I think. He ran."

Jaskier sucks in a noisy breath and squeezes his hands briefly. "Go on," he encourages when Geralt glances back up.

"I followed him. I didn't know what else to do. I was in a town, I think."

"Novigrad," Jaskier interrupts before wincing. "Sorry, go on."

"The people there--I tried to ask for help but they--" he can feel the tears burning in his throat and tries to breathe through it, keep going, "they either ran or they threatened me. I didn't know what was going on." He feels the tears spill and ducks his head. If he stops now, he won't be able to continue. "I ran."

"Oh, Geralt," Jaskier whispers. He lets go of one hand to bring his palm up to Geralt's face. His fingertips brush the corner of his eye, wipe the tears away gently.

"I ended up in the forest. There's a village not too far from here," Jaskier makes a quiet noise of acknowledgment. It’s the village Jaskier goes to sometimes when he needs things his father won’t or doesn’t send. "I stayed around there for a few weeks. Until the men with the swords showed up." Jaskier makes another small noise, rubbing his thumb along Geralt's cheekbone. Geralt closes his eyes. "So I picked a direction and started walking. And I found you."

"And I'm glad you found me, love. Sounds like you've had quite the rough go of it."

The calm acceptance is...too much. Does he not understand? He's a monster. Not natural. The mage wants back his creature. "Jaskier, I'm--"

"Shh," he cuts him off, grip still tight on his hand as he caresses his face, slips his fingers back into his hair, "I'm glad you told me, darling, but it doesn't change how I feel about you. You're a good person." He tugs him into his arms, gentle. Geralt goes, feeling like he did when he woke--unmoored, lost. He feels the tears slip down his cheeks, feels the way his breath catches on a sob. "I love you."

"Jask--" he can't get the words out past the lump in his throat so he just tucks himself a little closer, presses his face into Jaskier's neck. His lute sits forgotten beside them.

"You don't have to say it back, sweetling. It's okay," he says, stroking his free hand through Geralt's hair, the other tucked around his waist.

"I do, though," he whispers, lips brushing his throat, "I do." Jaskier sucks in a shuddering breath and holds him tighter, presses his lips to Geralt's temple, right over the mass of scars there. It's gentle, reverent.

That night, Geralt sleeps in Jaskier's bed, curled against his chest. He’s nearly asleep when the gentle tenor of Jaskier’s voice cuts through the soft haze of near-sleep. “--don’t know where I’d be,” Jaskier is saying softly, lips pressing intermittently to the top of his head, “gets hard being alone out here. And you’re so--” he cuts off, presses a kiss to Geralt’s hair again. He obviously thinks he’s already asleep. “You keep me grounded,” he says. “This is the happiest I’ve been in a long time.” He breathes it like a secret.

As Geralt lets sleep finally pull him under, swimming in Jaskier’s quiet confession, it's the most cared for he's ever felt.

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

And that’s how things continue, for a long time. Jaskier frets over who may or may not be looking for Geralt and vacillates wildly between stressing himself out about it and pretending it’s not a problem. Vincent and his men show up about every eight or so weeks with supplies from Jaskier’s father and Jaskier drags Geralt out with him to watch every time. Vincent eyes Geralt skeptically still, but he no longer comments or reaches for his sword. And as Geralt begins to experience what contact with other people is like when they’re not running from him or threatening him, he’s further convinced that Jaskier is special. He doesn’t feel this way about Vincent or the other men who deliver their supplies, or the people in the village who Jaskier’s taken him down to meet a few times now (they still won’t come anywhere near him without Jaskier around, but Jaskier is insistent they treat him like anyone else and it’s...it helps).

But Geralt doesn’t know how to make it clear to Jaskier that he’s interested in more. They share Jaskier’s bed, they touch frequently, but things are...remarkably tame. They already say “I love you.” At some point, Jaskier’s flirting had tapered off and now he’s just...sweet. And Geralt loves it, but he also wants...that. The raunchy flirting and the...the things that come after. And the happy ending, like the ones from the fairytales Jaskier readers, sometimes. He just doesn’t know how to let Jaskier know that he wants everything.

It turns out he doesn’t have to ask at all.

"So I know this is a dumb question but," Jaskier's paused over making their eggs one morning, gaze downturned and intense, "I'm--uh. I mean, you--fuck. I have no idea how to say this," he huffs, taking the pan off the open flame and tipping the egg onto a plate. "You want to stay. Here. With me." It's obviously supposed to be a statement, but it sounds like a question.

They’ve already talked about this, haven’t they? "Yes, Jaskier," he says softly, "as long as you'll have me."

Jaskier lets out of a gust of breath, "Fuck okay, so--" he turns to face Geralt, egg abandoned, to take his hands in his, crouching at Geralt’s knees, "I want you here with me, too. More than I, uh, probably should."

Geralt makes a quiet noise in the back of his throat. This sounds like--

"And I know there's no real practical purpose for it since I have nothing but this--" he gestures around them at the cottage, "--to give, but, um. I'd--If you'd be so inclined I'd like to marry you, Geralt." He pauses, eyes downcast and face flushed. Geralt for his part can't seem to put words in any order that might allow them to come out of his mouth and communicate just how much Jaskier's offer means to him.

"It's, uh, a little bit of protection. If the mage does come back for you, or something. But," he's rambling now, words falling from his lips so quickly his tongue is almost tripping over them in an effort to get them out faster, "but it's not like I don't want to marry you, or anything like that. I've been thinking about it quite extensively and I--"

"Jaskier," he cuts in, and he shuts up immediately, wide eyes focused on Geralt's face, nerves pouring off him. "Yes," Geralt says simply, and Jaskier gives a giddy little laugh, tips forward to hide his face in Geralt's lap.

"That's--yes. That's good. I'm glad." When he pulls back to look up into Geralt's face again, his eyes are shining. "Thank you, Geralt."

Geralt's not sure why Jaskier is the one thanking him when Geralt's the one who will most benefit from the arrangement, but he’s not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

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

Jaskier makes a special trip to the village to bring the priest of Melitele back to their cottage to officiate the hand fastening less than a week later. Geralt's nervous the man will balk when he sees him, but other than going a little pale at the sight, he stands fast. Even the temple boy that he brought with him doesn't do more than flinch when Jaskier levels him with a look.

"Are you sure--" the priest begins, but Jaskier cuts him off quickly.

"We are. And we want a small, private affair. No fanfare. I'm disowned, remember?" he says sardonically, and Geralt knows it's a tactic to keep the man from asking too many questions, they'd talked about it beforehand, but it still makes his chest ache. Jaskier is so good, he doesn't understand why everyone isn't as drawn to him as Geralt is.

"Now?" The priest asks, fiddling with the cord he's brought with him.

"Geralt?" and Jaskier's expression is so cautiously guarded--

"Yes," he agrees, stepping forward to stand shoulder to shoulder with him in their little clearing, just outside the door of the home they've already shared for months. The priest heaves a gust of breath.

"You'll need to kneel," he says, "Jaskier, give him your right hand. Uh--"

"Geralt," Jaskier supplies, eyes hard.

"--Geralt, give Jaskier your left." They kneel before the priest, hands clasped and held up in offering. The priest slips the cord around their joined hands, talking all the while. "Now, you don't untie this once it's done. Bad luck and all that. Ready?"

"Yes," Jaskier says, and Geralt nods.

"Alright." The priest waves the boy over to watch and serve as witness, and then he begins.

"As this knot is tied," he says, twisting the cording together in the first of several knots, "so are your lives now bound."

Jaskier squeezes Geralt's hand so tightly he can feel how he trembles.

"Woven into this cord, imbued into its very fibers, are all your hopes for your new life together." Another knot.

"With the fashioning of this knot do I tie all the desires, dreams, love, and happiness wished here in this place to your lives for as long as love shall last." He ties off the third and final knot and leans backward.

"Hold tight to one another through both good times and bad, and watch as your strength grows." The silence that rings out after the priest ceases speaking is deafening. Geralt can hear the blood rushing in his veins. "It is done."

"Geralt," Jaskier whispers as their joined hands fall to rest on Geralt’s thigh. He can't help but follow the movement of those lips with his eyes. "Kiss me, Geralt." And who is he to deny Jaskier anything?

He squeezes their joined hands, free hand rising to cup Jaskier's cheek. The look in Jaskier's eyes, the tenderness, the love, the thinly veiled excitement, twists his chest. How could he have ever feared this man would reject him?

"Geralt," Jaskier says again, and Geralt doesn't make him ask twice. He leans forward and presses their lips together in a tiny, chaste kiss, hardly more than a brushing of lips. It's still electric, especially when Jaskier makes a tiny, wounded noise and presses in closer, nearly in Geralt's lap.

Somewhere behind Jaskier, the priest clears his throat and Jaskier draws away reluctantly.

"You'll make it official in the books?" Jaskier asks without actually moving from where he’s perched on Geralt's knees.

"Of course. Should I send word to your father?"

"No," Jaskier scoffs, "don't bother." Geralt sees the priest nod behind Jaskier's shoulder. "Thank you."

"You are very welcome, son. May Melitele bless your binding. Come, boy." Before Jaskier or Geralt can say more, the man is hurrying away with the temple boy who's eyes are still wide and fixed on Geralt.

"I'd like to see them take you from me now," Jaskier says once the man's footsteps have faded from hearing, "husband." Something in Geralt trembles at the word.

"Husband," he repeats slowly, testing out the word on his tongue and finding it to his liking. Jaskier grins, wide and bright.

"Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?" He leans forward to kiss Geralt again, as if some dam has broken and he can't help himself. "My beautiful husband," Jaskier breathes against Geralt's lips.

When he pulls back, breathing hard, Geralt brings their still bound hands up to his lips to kiss Jaskier's knuckles, tender and reverent.

"How could anyone not look at you and see how sweet you are," Jaskier breathes, pulling his knuckles away from Geralt's mouth to give Geralt's scarred fingers the same treatment. "So beautiful, so full of love, my husband is."

"Jaskier--"

"Shush, I'm basking," he teases, giving another deliberate kiss to the back of his hand.

"I'm not--"

"No," Jaskier corrects immediately, "you just don't see yourself the way I see you. You're beautiful, Geralt and I love you very, very much."

He feels his face heat, ducks his head so his hair falls in the way, hiding his eyes.

"And I'll say it as many times as you need to hear it. I love you and I'm not going anywhere. And--" he continues, slipping the fingers of his free hand under Geralt's chin and tilting his head up until their eyes meet, "--I'm not letting anyone else have you. You're mine, husband dearest."

"Yours," Geralt agrees easily. The mage may or may not be looking for him, but it doesn't matter. Geralt wants nothing to do with him anyway.

"And I'm yours, darling. As long as you want me."

"Mine," Geralt echos, "Always."

And that's enough.

#witcher #witcher fic #geraskier #lizard writes #my baby! she lives! #a love letter both to geralt as a character and frankensteins creature

[kadwrites]

a little tipsy | T.S

summary; the reader always gets in trouble when she gets tipsy but this time , she was lucky.

warning; its a fluff, maybe tommy is out of character ? idk and maybe some grammar mistakes ,  I literally wrote this while i was in class so there is that

word count; 1507

author’s note; nursing school is sort of stressful and I seem to only write when im stressed so.. ,btw I wrote this for @captivatedbycillianmurphy i feel like i owe them, I hope you guys like it! please tell me what you think of it.

she sat at the bar , watching her friends sing and dance while she drank her regular drink, these nights out were not her favorite but seeing her friends laugh made her feel happy. but the moment she saw him entering ,she lowered her gaze and faced forward.

she knew him , like everyone did , she works at a nearby bookstore and when she's done she comes here to help harry , her dad's friend. she would see him everyday but she never talked to him , she would try to pretend like he didn't exist, why? she doesn't even know.

the moment she's done , she'll just hurry to get out but today seemed like she is stuck ,its still early so her friends will refuse to go home and she has to stay and make sure they won't get in trouble.

"it's okay , he is just a guy." she whispered to her self , or so she thought

"yeah , I'm just a guy relax." he smirked and she felt as if her soul left her body.

he is way closer than she thought he was , she peaked slowly to find him still looking at her .

"I'm actually not that bad once you forget the whole gangster thing." he joked

"yeah, I bet." she said meekly, the words of her friend keeps echoing in her head.

"you have a crush on tommy !! aww , thats so cute.!"

"no , I don't " she said as she was organizing the books.

"you do , it's fine , it's natural" she sighed "he is very dreamy so no one blames you"

"no one will blame me because I have no feelings towards that man whatsoever."

"you said 'whatsoever' ,thats you shoving your tongue down his throat in your language"

"what's your name?" he asked

"y/n" she answered , she doesn't know why would he want to know , because honestly she isn't that interesting compared to , well , anyone.

she downed her third glass , she isn't drunk but she is more confident now, she thinks.

"your friends seem to be having fun, why aren't you with them?."

"your brothers are having fun too and I don't see you there."

he was somehow shocked but mostly amused

"you really don't want me around you."

she faced him "my mom really doesn't approve the fact that you exist but I don't mind"

"you work at the bookstore ,don't you?"

"I do"

"why?"

"not a lot of people go there."

"you work in a bookstore to avoid people?"

she nodded and downed her fourth glass , she is a bit tipsy.

"I wish it was this easy for me"

"with a face like yours ? I don't people would leave you alone"

he smiled " I hope that's a compliment "

"It is , your face is like drugs to women"

"your very honest"

"I'm tipsy"

"I like you better when you actually talk"

"I would've never talked to you without a bit of alcohol in my system"

"why is that?"

“take a wild guess” she says as she nods at the group of giggling girls that were obviously talking about him.

he chuckled at her , his smile growing “ I don’t see how that would be relevant”

“um , I feel like I might get stabbed if I talked to you” she glanced at the group of girls once more “ oh , if looks could kill”

he was laughing now , she watched and giggled to herself.

“I made him laugh!” she thought to herself and was feeling a ridiculous sense of pride .

she turned to look at her friends that she forgot about and she was shocked to see them gone except one who was about to leave

“pardon me , I need to do something” she walked away before he could even answer.

“sara , where are the rest ?” she said as she cursed herself for forgetting about them.

“oh , don’t worry! laura’s brother drove them home and I will be walking home” she patted y/n shoulder gently “ I am sober and my house is 5 minutes away , you can stay with your date” she said and wiggled her brows.

“fuck off” she smiled as she hugged her friend goodbye.

“you are an amazing friend , my own brothers wouldn’t be worried about me like that” he was standing behind her now.

she jumped at the wound of his voice “it seems to me as if your brothers are done with your shit”. 

“they are” he smiled at her

“I am tipsy and my friends left so I should get going too” she said as she looked at her feet

“ can I walk you home?” he asked as he held the door open for her.

“I didn’t peg you as a gentleman , no offense”

“what? offense taken very personally”

“ I didn’t peg you as a dramatic person either” she giggled as he scoffed 

he offered his arm as they walked , she gladly accepted.

“you are not as rude and cold as I thought you would be.” she admitted 

“I am, you just are not someone I want to be rude and cold with” his voice was soft and warm , almost out of character.

“so , you are a bitch but not to me?” 

“what can I say, it is a piety thing really , you break my heart.”

he threw his head back , laughing when she shoved him, he was back at her side in a few seconds , gently taking her hand in his. she felt as if god finally wanted her to be happy but then she looked up to see her house 

“well , this is it,” she said , voice laced with disappointment

“goodnight,”

“you know , I do feel like I want to sober up a bit,” she was already walking past her house, 

he smiled and just walked by her, a few minutes later they were back at her doorstep

“goodnight , thomas,”

“goodnight ,” he kissed the back of her hand, she just stared at his eyes for a few seconds smiling and then entering the house.

,in the following morning , y\n was regretting every decision she ever made , she didn’t even drink that much but her body hated her nonetheless .

she laid in her bed , holding the hand the tommy held yesterday and thinking of ways to keep her hands dry and how to never wash them again.

“good morning!” laura barged in y\n room as if it was her own, jumping on the bed beside her friend, y\n just groaned and tried to ignore laura’s existence.

“ I half expected to see a naked  tommy deity  in your bed.” she giggled

“keep praying , god might listen to you.”she was half asleep.

her moms yelling woke her up “darling! get up! there is a....guest waiting for you.”

the pausing made y\n open an eye and look at her friend , they both seemed to think the same thing

laura pulled y\n and pushed her into the bathroom

“change and freshen up , your mom never pauses so its either our sex deity or satan” she closed the door on her friend.

laura stood by the door and then helped her half asleep friend change and look somewhat alive.

“I swear if it isn’t him , I will murder you.”

“just thank me when he’ll get you a nice diamond ring” she told her friend as they walked down the stairs and into the living room. y/n was scoffing when the sight of tommy awkwardly sipping tea as your mom stared at him, 

“oh, wonderful ! just make yourself at home dear , y/n be polite with your guest” her mom got up the moment that she walked in and just left the room with laura

“your mom doesn’t like me at all”

y\n smiled “why are you here ? not that I mind” she sat beside him on the sofa

“I wanted to check on you” he sipped the tea almost shyly.

“I am good , my head feels like it might explode but other than that I am peachy” she sighed

“ you weren’t even drunk” he looked at her , 

“I was drunk enough to get you to like me” she winked at him and he laughed

“are you still drunk?”

“I might be” she shrugged and he smiled , again.

“I will take you out on a date tonight” he demanded 

“you know , gentlemen ask for things like dates” she raised a brow

“fine” he cleared his throat “would you like to go on a date with me?”

“I would love to go out with you , thomas” she smiled , then she leaned and gave him a very gentle kiss on his cheek

thomas is not a soft person, but the moment that her lips touched his cheek , he felt himself melt and he doesn’t mind that at all.

#kadwrites #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby imagine

[camillemonty]

Crush

JJ x Reader|Kook

Summary: You just moved to outer banks and you are not so thrilled about your new kook life as your parents and are curious about how your summer will be.

As the summer goes on surprises come along, ups and down, tears and laugh, new friends and enemies.

Chapter two - The First Kegger

"C’mon John B. Why is she taking so long?” Kiara complained.

“I don’t know she told me she was ready” said John B while looking at the dock, waiting for Sarah.

“Bullshit” JJ spoke, lying on his back with his red hat covering his eyes.

“She’s coming she’s coming” John B. said as he saw Sarah running in the dock.

“Sorry guys” she hopped in the boat laughing.

“What happened?” Pope asked as he started the engine.

“Rafe has been high and drunk since the party he threw three days ago and my dad and Rose arrived today so I was watching the show” she answered.

They all laughed at Rafe’s misery, Pope was boating the way to the marsh, when Kie pointed something out.

“Someone moved to the Carte’s house” as she speaks the five turned their heads to the house.

“New Kooks” said John B.

“What a fucking nightmare” JJ rolled his eyes.

“You know them?” Pope asked Sarah.

“There’s nothing to know Pope, Kooks are all the same” JJ stated.

“Hey!” Sarah complained “anyway I don’t, but I heard she went to Rafe’s party”

“She” Kie, John B and Pope said at the same time.

“Yeah, I heard Rafe and Topper say she is the new Kook princess” Sarah rolled her eyes.

“New Kook princess, is jealousy what I hear Sarah” JJ teased, a smirk forming across his face “She might go for Topper”

“She has a boyfriend, and I’m not jealous I’m good where I am” she said leaning towards John B and kissed him.

The other three whined about the demonstration of affection. They spend the day in the marsh, drinking, swimming and smoking, mostly JJ, as usual. Later, in the afternoon the guys went buying some beer for the Kegger, while the girls went home to get ready.

“Don’t know man, the last Kook princess turned out to be fine maybe this one too” said John B. while looking for the beer.

“Shut up man.” said JJ “you’re just so whipped that you think every kook is good”

“I don’t know, maybe the new kook won’t be like the kooks we already got here, don’t know if that makes sense” Pope spoke, and john B nodded, agreeing with him “But he is right though, you are whipped"

“You two can think whatever you want” JJ rolled his eyes “don’t know why you care anyway”

They were driving back to the Chateau, music out loud and JJ making some blunts in the back.

“Dude didn’t you just smoke like five minutes ago?” Pope said looking at JJ.

“Relax dude, this are for tonight” JJ said with a smirk in his face.

They arrived at the Chateau and went straight to the porch, JJ got first and sat on the hammock, the other two sat on the chairs, making time to go get the girls. Silence reigned between them.

“I think I’m going to make a move on Kie tonight” said Pope suddenly, making John B spill his beer and JJ choke with the smoke.

“You what?” they both said.

“I’m going to make a move on Kie” Pope repeated.

“You sure dude? ” JJ asked.

“Yeah, I mean we have been so close lately, like you don’t even know” said Pope.

“That’s good man” said John B.

“I don’t care if she rejects me” Pope said but it felt like he was trying to convince himself “But I have to try right?”

“Totally” the other two said nodding.

“We are here for you man” said JJ from the hammock.

The time arrived and they got into the van to go get Kie and Sarah. The sun was almost set when they parked in front of the Boneyard and there were already a lot of people. They placed the beer and started drinking, JJ disappeared in a matter of minutes, but that was normal, he went hunting, probably some tourons, Kie and Pope were talking to another group, and John B. and Sarah were dancing.

“Oh I forgot to tell you” said Sarah “I’m pretty sure my brother is coming with the kooks”

“Well they are welcome you know that” John b said raising his beer.

“I think he’s coming with the new kooks” she said.

“Don’t tell JJ” John B and Sara laughed.

As they continued dancing, at the other side of the Kegger Pope was trying to calm himself, he was really nervous, but Kie kept talking with the strangers, and he wasn’t sure when to make the move, he didn’t even knew what he was going to do, he got a little speech prepared but he was nervous.

More into the night the group was almost all together again, JJ was still missing, they were hanging around with others and about to start playing beer pong when he finally arrived.

“You assholes were going to play without me?” JJ shouted “you want to lose or something” he hugged Pope from behind “You did it?” he whispered is his ear.

He shook his head and JJ palm his back.

“Ok let’s play” he rubbed his palms together “Fuck no” JJ said rolling his eyes.

They all followed his glare and saw Rafe and the group arriving.

“Guess those are the new Kooks” said Kie.

The six pairs of eyes went on you and Liam they examined you from the distance.

You were a little nervous; Rafe said all kinds of trash about this place, you didn’t even know why he wanted to go so bad. You saw around and the only thing that made the difference between them was the less fancy clothes, you rolled your eyes and thought all that hate was stupid. The beach was full of people, the screams traveled with the wind, longs and bonfires decorated the sand. Rafe was looking for his sister and deep inside you didn’t want him to find her, he was so intense in the car saying that you are going to make his sister a kook again.

“Sarah” Rafe shouted and you wanted to die, couple of seconds later a girl came closer, she was beautiful, and you could see they looked alike “hey sis, wanted you to meet y/n” he dragged her towards you.

“Sarah, nice to meet you” she said, obviously uncomfortable with her brothers attitude.

“Nice to meet you” you shake the girls hand and when you two noticed you were left alone “sorry for that Rafe insisted”

“Sorry you have to deal with him” she said “that was your boyfriend?”

“Yes, he arrived here couple of weeks before me so I think he already knows his ways around” you said looking for Liam.

“Well when you are a kook you have to know how to move in Pogue territory” she said smiling, she was so nice.

“Why all the nicknames?” you asked “not wanting to be rude but I think it is a little stupid, I mean we are all people at the end, I still don’t get why all the hate” she smiled at you with surprise in his eyes, and you regretted what you said, thinking she got offended or something.

“You are right, but I think there are some people that are way into it and won’t change, my brother for example” she said.

“Yeah I kinda notice that at the party the other day” you rolled your eyes and she laughed.

“Hey let me introduce you to my friends, I think you will like them” she said and gave you a smile.

You glanced at the group she was pointing and noticed they were looking at you two talking, you started to walk with her towards them felling already nervous, but the group of girls from the other night came in the middle, half screaming and half hugging you, you couldn’t understand any of them, you saw Sarah and mouthed “maybe later” she nodded at you smiling and disappeared as you were being pushed away by the girls.

Sarah went back to the group of curious people that was waiting for the information.

“So?” John B. questioned.

“She seems nice, I think you guys will like her” Sarah happily said.

JJ scoffed rolling his eyes and said nothing.

“Why?” Kie asked.

“Well first of all I got the vibe that she kinda hates Rafe” said Sarah.

“That happens often” said Pope.

“And she told me she found stupid all the Pogue versus Kook stuff”

“No way” Kie smiled.

“Of course she thinks is stupid she’s a fucking kook” JJ sighed “she already has everything”

“She said, and I quote “why all the hate at the end we are all people”” Sarah smiled.

“I think I already like her” said Kie.

“We are going to play or not?” said JJ losing his patience “because there’s a hot girl giving me a naughty look right now and I wanna know if I’m losing my time here” he shrugged his shoulders.

They all rolled their eyes at JJ.

“Let’s play” John B spoke.

They played a couple of rounds of beer pong making people to gather around them, after the third win in a row from JJ he glanced at the girl that has come close to him and excused himself out, taking her to somewhere more private. The others kept playing a bit more.

You saw Sarah with her friends in the distance; they were having fun, you smiled at that, from where you were they seemed nice, at least nicer than Rafe and the guys. The girls around you kept talking but you zoomed out of the conversation a while ago, all the screams and the squeaky voices were giving you a headache. Right now you were trying to find Liam in the distance.

“So you are coming tomorrow Y/n?” said one of the girls putting his hand on your shoulder, Rebecca.

“Sorry what?” you said.

They laughed “you want to come with us shopping tomorrow?” she asked.

“Um…” you didn’t like to go shopping, but if parties here are every week you needed more clothes “Sure”

They all screamed happily and you smiled at them. You excused yourself out and went for some beer, founding Sarah was there too, and she smiled at you when she saw you.

“The girls know you escaped?” she questioned.

“They were giving me a headache” you said laughing, and hear someone laugh behind Sarah.

She looked back at the girl that was with here “Y/n this is Kiara” she introduced you to her friend.

“Kie” said the girl.

“Nice to meet you” you said smiling.

“I pity you, having to be with those girls” Kiara said and took a sip of her beer.

“And I think I agreed to go shopping by mistake, I wasn’t listening” you closed your eyes and sigh.

They both laugh and you smiled, even if you just meet them it felt easy to be with them. Sarah took your empty cup and pours you more beer.

“Come, let me introduce you to the rest” Sarah looped his arm with yours and guided you.

“Guys this is Y/n” the two guys turned around and gave you a big smile.

“I’m John B.” said the brunette.

“I’m Pope” said the one with darker skin.

You smiled back at the guys “Nice to meet you”

“So you are new here” spoke John B, it wasn’t a question.

“Yes I arrived last week”

“And you have a boyfriend right?” Pope asked.

You glanced at him, asking how he knows that.

“There are no secrets here y/n, words travel fast” Kiara said.

“Yes his name is Liam” you said smiling “but I can’t find him right now” you looked over your shoulders hoping you will see him in the distance, but you didn’t.

“We heard that you are the new Kook princess” said John B. teasing you.

You rolled your eyes “Don't get me started in that” they looked at you with curious eyes so you continued “I find it stupid, no offense I’m new here, but I don’t know, there is more in people that just the amount of money they have”

“We are so going to be friends” said Kiara and you smiled at her.

The rest of the group smiled at you and offer you to play beer pong with them, you accepted.

Sarah and you sighed as you two lost again.

“Nothing personal girls” said Pope laughing.

John B came to your side of the table and kissed Sarah, just in that moment you realized they were together, and that made you thought about Liam, you felt guilty for forgetting him.

“I have to go look for my boyfriend” you said to them, they all smiled at you.

“See you around” Kie said and you waved at her.

The place was full of people but Liam had to be somewhere, so you started looking at the groups trying to see a familiar face. You saw Kelce first and came close to him, asking if he had saw Liam.

“I saw him a couple of minutes ago, I think he went for beer” he said.

So you turned your way back to the beers, there you saw Topper and Rafe, and asked them the same question, but they didn’t know. You kept looking for him, about to give up you realize there was a place close to some trees that had way less people, so you went there, the people was smoking weed, and you thought about the first and last time you smoked, three months ago, just when your dad told you about the moving, you were so sad that you went to your best friend house and ended up smoking with her. “Maybe I’ll do it again” you thought. You got closer to some trees and heard people were behind them, you got even closer and regretted it immediately, there was a couple kissing passionately, and to your bad luck just at that moment the girl opened her eyes and saw you, stopping everything.

“Oh my god I’m sorry” you said quickly “I was looking for my boyfriend”

“Well I’m not him so you can leave” the guy said stepping back.

“Sorry” you said again totally embarrassed.

“Yeah we heard” he turned around; it was the blond guy you saw before with Sarah’s friends.

“Y/n?” you heard and turned to find Liam, finally.

“Liam”

“What are you doing here?” he asked confused.

“I was looking for you, I looked everywhere” you said.

“And privacy is dead” the blond said “c’mon” he called the girl, then he looked at you and Liam and rolled his eyes “of course, the new kooks” he said with scorn is his voice “you kooks always ruining everything, you guys know this is our fucking side of the island right”

Liam was about to speak but you did it first “Don’t” you told Liam, you knew he was going to make things worse, it was his gift; he looked at you and nodded.

“Yeah listen to the girl man” he joked “she’s the princess” a smirk was covering his face, you rolled your eyes at the comment and turned around “admit it you know your boyfriend can’t with me”

You grabbed Liam’s arm, and kept walking away.

“It’s not worth it, he is a miserable Pogue” he said, the comment made you angry.

“He is such a hypocrite” you thought but didn’t say anything to avoid a fight.

You continued the party not letting Liam out of your sight, you ended up with the girls again, you were having fun, but deep inside you wanted to go with Sarah and her friends.

This time you got home sober, thanked Liam for the ride and kissed him goodnight, but before stepping out of the car he grabbed your wrist.

“What were you doing with the Pogues” he asked.

“I told you, I ran into the blonde because I was looking for you” his jaw clenched.

“I wasn’t talking about the blonde” he said, obviously mad “the other ones, you were playing beer pong with them”

“Those were Sarah’s friends, Rafe sister” you explained.

“I know, I don’t like them” he shook his head.

“Why? You don’t know them?”

“I just don’t, and I don’t like the blondie either”

“Well I kinda do like Sarah’s friends, so if you excuse me, goodnight” you freed your wrist from his grip, and got out the car.

You went straight to your room, mumbling Liam’s words for yourself, you rolled your eyes and decided to forget it, you lay in bed and the moment your head touched the pillow you fell asleep.

#jj maybank #jj mayback x reader #jj x reader #obx #obx fic #obx jj x reader #jj maybank fic #obx netflix #outer banks #jj maybank imagine #obx imagine #outer banks x reader #outer banks fic #jj imagine #jj x y/n #jj x kook!reader #outer banks imagine

[keyofjetwolf]

What was your first?

So a horse walks into a rehab and says “ouch”. And not a lot. Then a great deal. While also saying nothing. It’s BoJack, in rehab, and going about as well as you might think!

“The Stopped Show” may not have been much about BoJack, but “A Horse Walks Into A Rehab” makes up for it by being 99.9% BoJack, setting aside the brief appearance of the other characters to set their stages for when we get back to them. Diane’s in a shitty motel, Todd’s in a seedy alleyway, Princess Caroline has her porcupine baby, and Mr. Peanutbutter continues to deliver cheer while everything around him burns AND drowns. I’ve now touched base with them about as much as the season premier, and we’ll get busy ignoring them.

As I said, BoJack is the star today, and we continue his quest for ... what, exactly?

Trying to pin it down, that “what is BoJack looking for” question, it’s a lot harder to answer than I expected, which marks another instance of me fucking myself, GOOD JOB ME.

I initially said “punishment”, but that isn’t true, or a least, is too easy. BoJack wants accountability for his actions -- which is a very different thing than punishment -- but he wants it in a way that also absolves him from having to do any work to rise above it. So you’d think he’d love this, the constant claim in rehab that he’s powerless. It seems like the answer to everything, a blanket pass to excuse his behaviour because he’s powerless. Why doesn’t he? I’m not sure I’m entirely clicking with the heart of that, so come with me as I have a poke at it.

For one, I doubt very much rehab would begin and end with “you’re powerless, oh well”. Addiction is some nasty business, but in and of itself, it’s a symptom, not the problem. That in mind, we swing back then to BoJack having to put in the work, only now it’s with the removal of his favourite coping mechanisms.

I think what he was hoping to get out of rehab was more along the lines of “Vodka is a naughty irresistible siren who topples even the most noble of men, but if you cross your eyes and click your heels, you’ll be free from her spell forevermore.” And yeah, no.

I think we get some of that in how, for a while, rehab seems to suit BoJack.

To the point I very specifically said to Doc as I was watching this, “Oh shit, did BoJack just become even MORE insufferable?” He’s okay so long as he has the comfort of the scripts and the regimented plant therapy and the same hike every day. When he starts to get fucked is when he has push further, when he has to work harder, when the treatment demands MORE.

“I notice you tend to deflect when I ask you about the source of your addiction,” his therapist says, causing BoJack to immediately deflect, first with a joke and then, when that doesn’t work, attacking the entire system. Getting to the root of his problem is the last thing BoJack wants, to the point where the entire episode ITSELF is one giant deflection. I made a joke in passing up there about our passing moments with each of the other main characters, but that’s actually it, that’s the heart of this episode.

Each of these are efforts by the episode to deflect what’s going on NOW, tempting us with something shiny and interesting, if only we’d take the bait. I ONLY JUST MADE THIS CONNECTION WELL FUCKING DONE SHOW

And of course, there’s Jameson’s story, which is part deflection, part contrast. She’s intended to appear at first like someone BoJack can relate to, a Sara Lynn Pt. 2 that he wants to save and in whom he sees so much of himself. In equal parts, he’s the adult trying to guide her and the force enabling her, and I’d have to do a bit more thinking on whether I thought his success with her was about him walking both sides of that line, or Jameson just, at the end of the day, being lucky. Either way, it’s also not really about her, so much as BoJack talking a really good game at her, while giving her all the tools to make the worst choices.

Which is, I think, where the episode finally settles. BoJack’s choices have been his own, but they aren’t made in isolation. Throughout this episode, we get moments, presented in reverse chronological order, that could on their own answer that key question: When was the first time you drank?

To settle your nerves to get through a scene everyone was counting on you to nail?

To fit in with the cool kids at high school?

To win your father’s approval?

What’s brilliant to me about each of these flashbacks is that the further into the past we go, the more willing we are to absolve BoJack. In the first, he’s a professional actor required to kiss an attractive and consenting fellow professional in the course of a performance. Nervous? Makes total sense. Getting plastered to do it? LESS SENSE.

The high school one is the most damning, which I adore. BoJack’s the butt of some light bullying by the jock, and I don’t mean to completely dismiss that it sucks, but the remainder of events before he starts in on the beers shows he’s hardly an absolute social pariah. And even if he were, once he begins to drink, BoJack doesn’t just become the life of the party, he becomes cruel (demonstrating quite well that jokes aren’t his only tool of deflection). Worse, that he KNOWS he’s doing it, but cares more about his positive attention than their negative. Still, BoJack’s a kid and peer pressure is a hell of a thing. This isn’t a good look, but it’s also not damning, if he’d come to learn from it. 

Now we jump the line to, I’d guess, ten or eleven year old BoJack, who walks in on his father having an affair with his secretary, but too young to recognize what he’s seen. Butterscotch can’t take the risk though, so he effortlessly manipulates little BoJack into getting drunk and passing out, then uses BoJack’s shame about it to keep him quiet on the whole evening. UNDER THE GUISE OF BEING HIS FRIEND AND DOING HIM A FAVOUR BY THE WAY. No question, Butterscotch is a son of a bitch, and the only thing BoJack did wrong here was crave his parent’s love.

Even with the high school one being a little more grey, they’re all pretty cut and dry. Remember that we’re following the thread of “When was the first time you drank?” and to land on the answer “When my unrepentantly dickish father lied to me to save his own ass” puts a pretty solid punctuation mark on the whole affair. Addiction may not be at fault, but Butterscotch Horseman is. Case closed, we can go home.

BUT WAIT WHAT’S THIS

Right at the end, when you think we’re done, there’s one more flashback. A party of some sort, possibly New Year’s. The house sounds empty, there’s only the looping of the record player, stuck repeating the same five seconds again and again and again. Butterscotch and Beatrice are passed out drunk, judging from the empty bottles around them. Was it a good party? A bad one? She has her back to him and they’re about as far apart as they could get while still remaining in the room, but also, nothing’s broken? It’s impossible to know.

What we do know is that BoJack, aged about where we saw him in the “Free Churro” flashback so maybe seven or so? Very young, at any rate, and he’s alone. There doesn’t appear to be anything in the room for a child, so it’s probably fair to say he wasn’t included in the festivities. Did he have something to do instead? His own party maybe? Friends to play with, someone to watch him? Did he even get dinner? From what we’ve seen, “no” is a much more likely answer to any or all of these.

AND NOW THE FIRST TO PUNCH YOU IN THE HEART

Tiny BoJack knocks back several gulps of vodka (like a fucking pro, may I add), then crawls onto the couch next to his unconscious mother, pretending for just a few minutes that she’s cuddling him until he, too, will fall into a drunken slumber.

RIGHT SO WHAT THE FUCK DO WE DO WITH THIS JESUS WEPT

Had you told me “Just wait, seven year old flashback BoJack is going to muddy the hell out of this” I wouldn’t have ... okay, well, I know the show, so I probably would’ve believed you, but I would’ve been preemptively grumpy.

This isn’t his fault! But it is! This isn’t his parent’s fault, but it super super is! Nobody MADE BoJack drink the vodka, as the scene goes to great lengths to show. There is nobody to tell him to do anything at all. Beatrice is three fucking sheets to the wind, she has no idea he’s there and he could have pretend cuddled all night AND stayed sober. Did baby BoJack, like adult BoJack, take the drink to calm his nerves for an expression of physical intimacy? Would baby BoJack have even known that was an option? Remember, this is framed as the answer to the question “When was the first time you drank?” Not “took a drink”, but “you DRANK”, the phrasing of which I think is important. It’s all about the root of the problem. What I get out of that question is then is “the first time you drank to numb yourself”.

Baby BoJack is looking at this disaster, this mess that is his every day no matter how many party hats and streamers you stick on it, and he wants anything else at all. So he turns to the easiest thing he knows will take it away the fastest. The situation isn’t his fault. The opportunity isn’t his fault. But the response IS, in a way that EVEN AS I SAY IT, makes me feel shitty.

CONGRATS BOJACK HORSEMAN FOR MAKING ME SEE A LITERAL CHILD SLAMMING BACK VODKA STRAIGHT FROM THE BOTTLE AND MAKING ME GO “okay, but”.

SEASON SIX SHOULD BE A WALK IN THE PARK

#jet wolf watches bojack #it’s no wonder the answers for bojack are so hard to find #when even the goddamn QUESTION requires a dissertation and three hundred caveats #oh i didn't have a place for it really in this essay #but i love the use of the space/planetarium overlay when bojack is really wrestling with his urges

[whatisthiswritingthing]

Observation Skills - Part Six - Lindsey Horan x Reader

Lindsey is at camp, her relationship continues to develop and she returns with a new found confidence.

“Alright, who are talking to?” Rose interrogated the next morning. They had been down for breakfast for almost half an hour now and Lindsey had hardly looked away from her phone, a smile glued to her face.

She had woken up to string of texts from Sara.

               Hot Trainer:       Lindsey…

                                               Terrible news

                                               It’s a tragedy

                                               Prepare yourself, sit down, whatever you need, but be ready

                                               Are you ready?

                                               I came to the gym this morning, worked out, showered, and then it happened

                                               Are you sitting now?

                                               I WAS OUT OF DINOSAUR OATMEAL!

                                               Tragic isn’t it?!

                                               It’s bad enough I don’t get to see you for three weeks, but now this?!

                                               I’ll leave you process this tragedy, I’m here if you need to talk. We will get through this.

 Waking to the plethora of texts with such a ridiculous story immediately put her in a good mood. And the blonde implying she would miss her definitely helped too.

                 Lindsey:               That is a tragedy, however will you survive?

               Hot Trainer:       Which? Not seeing you or dinosaurs? Not seeing you, you’ll just have to find a way to help me with that. Dinosaurs, there is no remedying that, I needed to suffer through Apple Cinnamon. Like an adult!

 Lindsey had sent a selfie after she had gotten ready for breakfast. The two continued to text the rest of the morning until Rose finally called her out.

“Who are you texting so much?”

“No one, don’t worry about it.”

“Bullshit, you have been glued to your phone all morning!” Sam joined in. “And you have such a stupid smile on your face.”

“Did Russell-wannabe-muscles, get his shit together and try to make up again?” Mal questioned

“Nice,” the two high fived with a smile and the cheesy nickname, looking to Lindsey for an answer.

“Fuck no, that’s never happening again,” the blonde midfielder replied adamantly, struggling to not pick her phone back up after hearing it go off again.

“Finally! So, who’s the new bae that has you all smitten?”

“Gross, never say that again. And no one,” Lindsey caved, picking her phone up trying to ignore Mal and Rose.

“Sonnett you are far too quiet about this,” Rose narrowed her eyes at the defender, “You know!”

“Who’s hot trainer?” Mal questioned loudly with a smile. Lindsey didn’t even notice she had left her chair and snuck up behind her, too focused on her conversation with Sara.

“Fuck, no one,” Lindsey quickly locked her phone and shoved it in her pocket.

“Oh no, that reaction definitely means it’s a someone!” Rose bounced in her seat across from her, then turned her head back to Sonnett, “What do you know!? Who is the hot trainer? Is it the trainer at your new gym?”

Rose, Mal, and Sam continued to fire questions at their fellow midfielder, occasionally pausing to discuss different possibilities between themselves.

Lindsey shrunk in on herself, the insecurities returning. Tobin and Emily had been so supportive, Sara made her feel comfortable, not that the other three wouldn’t be supportive but the sudden interrogation made it real. Real that this could be more than a crush, real that her last relationship hadn’t ended well (several times), real that her last relationship had been with a man and so had all the others. She understood that sexuality was fluid and fully believed anyone could love anyone, that wasn’t what bothered her. What bothered her was the sudden reality that this was more than a crush; that she wanted to tell her friends all about Sara, but also keep it to herself to figure out and enjoy

Taking a breath, Lindsey cut the other three at the table off while Emily sat and watched Lindsey process her thoughts.

“If you would simmer down for a second, I’ll tell you. It’s new and I don’t know what it is yet, so I’d like to keep it between us for now, please?”

At their nods, Lindsey looked to Sonnett for encouragement who smiled and nodded, then glanced down to the table and took a breath to steady her nerves.

“Her name is Sara. She is one of the trainers at the gym, we met a few weeks ago when I started training there. I trained with a couple times and we hit it off, we even went for coffee before I came to camp.”

The other soccer players weren’t phased by the news at all, quickly asking rapid fire questions again.

“Is she hot?” Mal asked first.

“Of course she’s hot, she swung Lindsey!” Rose commented with an eye roll.

“Can we see pictures?”

“Tell us about her?”

“How was coffee? Was it a date?’

“Does she know who you are?”

Horan quickly pulled up the most recent photo the trainer had sent of her and Blaze, turning her phone for everyone to see.

“She has a dog too?!” Rose asked, excited, disregarding the woman in the photo.

“That’s Blaze and that’s Sara, she brings him to the gym most of the time.”

Rose quickly lost interest in the blonde, more focused on the dog. Mal and Emily sliding closer to scroll through all the pictures.

“She’s gorgeous Linds, tell us about her,” Sam prompted, sensing the residual nerves.

“She’s great, coffee was incredible. I have no idea if it was a date, it was the first time we hung out outside of the gym. She’s so sweet and funny and smart. And so hot! Fuck, she’s so strong. Oh, she’s a firefighter!” Lindsey rambled, nervously fidgeting with the sleeves of her sweat.

“Wait, I thought you said she was a trainer at your gym?” Mal wondered.

“She is, she works as a firefighter and a trainer.”

“That’s so cool!”

The group continued to ask questions, Lindsey more than willing to answer them all. Talking about Sara to some of her closest friends made her feeling lighter than she had felt in a long time. It started to sink in the extent of her feelings for the trainer.

 For the rest of the day Lindsey felt incredible. Practice after breakfast had gone so well. Vlatco pushed them right from the start, and Lindsey felt like she had played some of the best soccer she had in a long. The fitness session in the afternoon she had passed all her previous scores, she felt strong, she felt fast, she felt good. Plus, between each session Lindsey came back to phone to a message from Sara, adding to her phenomenal mood.

Even the incessant teasing from her friends throughout the day couldn’t affect her mood. And totally worth it. Like now, with them all giving her strange looks while she laughs at the text Sara sent her. She had sent her a picture of two boxes of Dinosaur oatmeal.

               Hot Trainer:       Lindsey! Look it! All balance has been restored in the world!

At the loud snort of laughter, the table looked at her questioningly.

“You good there Linessi?” Sonnett question with a laugh of her own.

Lindsey gave vague yupp, never looking up from her phone, replying to the firefighter.

“I take it back, I do not support this,” Rose said, gesturing to Lindsey. “All those feels over there are disgusting me.”

Lindsey didn’t even look up from her phone.

The group just rolled their eyes, leaving Lindsey to her phone, knowing there was pulling her away from it.

For the rest of the camp, Lindsey’s routine stayed relatively the same. By the end of the second week, she was drained. Camp was exhausting, practices were hard, and fitness was harder, no matter how prepared you were. Being around so many people all the time was overwhelming. All Lindsey wanted to do wanted to do was curl up in her bed and sleep. Most of the team felt the same, so had all agreed to have a quiet night in in Lindsey and Emily’s room to watch a movie. Everyone already half asleep spread across the beds and chairs in the room.

Lindsey expressed how she was feeling to Sara, the other woman showing genuine interest in how camp was going. So really, she shouldn’t be surprised at how good she felt after opening up. It had never been like that with Russel; he always reminded her it was part of the job, Sara reassured her that feeling this way was normal. Where Russel would tell her if she trained harder, she wouldn’t be so sore, Sara would suggest a different stretch to help ease her muscles and joked to give her massage. When she would vent her frustrations, Russel would get irritated, Sara let her rant and express how she felt.

               Lindsey:               Sorry I’m not much fun to talk to today

               Hot Trainer:       Lindsey, you don’t have to apologize for anything. I’m here anytime you need to vent. Want me to tell you a funny story from work?

Sara validated her and made her feel better about herself in a few weeks than Russel ever had. Hell, she made Lindsey feel better in just this conversation.

Now laying on the bed surrounded by her friends, exhausted, hardly paying attention to the movie she still felt good. Being given the opportunity to talk about how she was feeling with judgment eased the tension in her chest. Sara was telling her a funny story about how her and the other firefighters convinced their rookie he needed to remind one of the older firemen to “use the potty” before bed to mess with him. The levity of the story helping draw Lindsey’s tense shoulders down and continuing to help her relax.

 The last week of camp flew by. Before she knew it, it was game day. They were playing Friday night, recovery and travel day Saturday; Lindsey couldn’t wait to be home. Lindsey had woken up to a hood luck text from Sara, who also said she would be watching the game as long as they didn’t get a call at the firehouse. Between that and getting the start, nothing could take away Lindsey’s good mood.

Knowing the blonde firefighter was watching her, Lindsey felt like she needed to impress her. And impress she did. There weren’t any nerves, she was motivated and ready to play come kick off. Right from the first whistle Lindsey was on fire; nothing got past her in the middle, she flew from box to box, nothing could stop her.

By the end of the game Lindsey had scored hat trick, plus recorded two assists, putting the US to 5-0 win. She was ecstatic, not only with the win but with how well shelf let she played the entire game. She felt like she was on such a high, roaming around the stadium taking pictures and signing autographs. Winning always felt good, but there was something about tonight, something about knowing she had someone special watching, someone that even though she knew wouldn’t judge her playing she still wanted to impress.

“Linds! You played incredible tonight!” Tobin came alongside her as they walked in the tunnel towards the change room. “Who knew all you needed was a hot blonde at home to get you to play this well.”

Lindsey gave Tobin a gentle shove, blushing and looking down. “Shut up,” she mumbled, shy because of the accuracy.

“What are you talking about Tobs, I live in Orlando now,” Sonnett joined in, slinging her arm around Lindsey.

“Wrong hot blonde Sonny,” Rose bounced past them, turning and walking backwards. “Toby definitely meant the hottie with the firefighter body,” Shooting a wink, she turned and skipped into the change room.

Lindsey again just blushed at how accurate it was. She made her way to her locker, immediately picking up her phone.

               Hot Trainer:       Great game superstar! You crushed it!

                                               The other team knew they were supposed to defend you, right?

Lindsey’s smile just grew at the texts. Mal leaned over to her, “you disgust me, you know that? Even Dansby and I weren’t that gross.”

“Yeah yeah yeah, I know, I just, I can’t help It,” Horan shrugged off the teasing, more than ok with it. It was more than worth it to get to talk to Sara.

The two continued to talk as they got ready to get on the bus, Mal teasing her every time Lindsey would reach for her phone.

 The next afternoon, after a quick recovery session, Lindsey was seated next to Tobin on the plane back to Portland.

“Alright Linds, what’s happening with you and your girl?” Tobin questioned once they were in the air.

“I really don’t know Tobs, we hit it off so well, this week has been great talking to her and I can’t wait to see her again this week. I just don’t know where to go from here, I want it to be more than just talking. But, but don’t know how,” the midfielder started to ramble, her nerves on the situation coming out. “What if she just wants to be friends? How do I know if she wants more? What if she doesn’t even like me?”

Tobin put a reassuring hand on her thigh.

“You’re overthinking it. She seems like she is pretty interested in you Linds. You just need to talk to her when you get home, ask her out again, make it clear you are interested. She sounds like she is pretty respectful, so I doubt she will be a jerk regardless.”

“I know; it sounds like it should be easy. She is relaxed and easy going, this whole camp she has been incredible to talk to.”

The continued to talk the entire flight, she was excited to see Sara, so it didn’t take much to convince her to tell her how she felt.

 Immediately after landing, Lindsey turned her phone on, eager to talk to the blonde trainer. Emboldened by the conversation she had with Tobin on the plane, she quickly texted her asking her to talk.

               Lindsey:               Hey! Just landed!

                                               Can we talk?

               Hot Trainer:       Uhh yea, I’m at work now. Did you want to text about it? We could call or we could do something when I’m off tonight?

               Lindsey:               How about tonight after you’re off work? In person would be better.

The two made plans to meet in two hours after Sara would get off work.

Lindsey rushed around her condo, quickly unpacking, starting a load of laundry before getting in the shower to get ready. Nerves returning while she thought about what she was going to say, she knew she had been vague when asking the blonde out, but she wanted to have the conversation in person. This conversation was too important to risk losing context over text.

Two hours later, Lindsey found herself waiting at the bar the two agreed to meet at, Sara coming right form work. Lindsey had chosen a quiet pub that would afford them the opportunity to have this conversation hopefully uninterrupted. She was seated at a booth near the back, legs bouncing, hands fidgeting with the coaster on the table, nerves settling low in her stomach.

The soccer player was startled out her thoughts as the object of her nerves slide into the booth across from her.

“Hey Linds, you alright?” Sara didn’t hesitate to question, her concern evident.

Lindsey sat up straighter in the booth, making eye contact with the blonde, forcing herself to stop fidgeting.

“Yea, I’m good, I just really needed to talk to you,” unable to make eye contact anymore, Lindsey looked at her hands at the table, hands resuming fidgeting.

Sara slid her hand across the table, grasping a fidgeting hand and rubbing her thumb across her knuckles.

“It’s alright Lindsey, take your time, you can tell me anything,” the trainer said soothingly.

“I know, I’m just nervous, I’ve never done this before. So maybe, fuck, just let me try and say everything and then you can ask questions? Or leave, umm which I hope you don’t, but yea,” Lindsey trailed off.

“Of course, take your time,” she repeated, still rubbing her thumb on Lindsey’s knuckles.

“So I like you, like, like like you. Fuck, I sound like a 13-year-old. But I do, I have feelings for you. I got teased all camp for being ‘smitten’ anytime we talked. These last few weeks have been great, talking to always puts a smile on my face and I look forward to seeing you at the gym every day,” Lindsey started, but then hesitated, debating what to say next. Sara’s thumb never stopping on her knuckles.

At her hesitancy, Sara stepped in, “I like you too Lindsey, as in like like you,” she mimicked. “I was so happy when you asked me out before you left, I’m not sure I would have had the guts to do it.”

Both women paused to look at each other, making eye contact they both smiled softly. Sensing Lindsey’s hesitation, Sara continued.

“I’d really like to take you on another date Lindsey Horan, if you will let me, of course.”

“Of course you can take me on another date,” Lindsey smiled, blushing. “It’s just, I’ve just, I’ve never done this before.”

“Never gone on a date?” Sara teased. “That’s fine, takes the pressure off on me to top any in the past.”

“No, I’ve been on a date before,” She chuckled to herself, but blushed, looking down again, still hesitating. “I’ve umm, never been on a date with a woman.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that Linds, we can do this entirely at your pace. Whatever you are comfortable with.”

Lindsey shook her head at that, she knew she had been nervous for nothing, how was this woman so perfect?

All her nerves before the conversation started gone, it had gone better than she could have anticipated.

The two stayed at the pub for another two hours, Sara promising to ‘woo’ her on a date when she was off next. Conversation moving on, flowing easy as usual.

Similar to when they went for coffee, Sara opened all the doors on the way out, placing a hand on her Lindsey’s back to guide her out and while walking her to her car.

“Is this ok?” the trainer asked, leaning closer to her.

“More than ok Sara,” Lindsey said, leaning even closer, pressing her side into Sara’s.

Lindsey felt like she was on fire as they walked down the street. She could feel the heat from Sara body, and solidness of her muscles; it made her want to feel more of it.

When they got to Lindsey’s car, the two blondes stayed close. Lindsey leaned against the car, boldly pulling Sara into her. Sara moved one hand Lindsey’s hip, her other hand resting on the roof of the car next to Lindsey’s head.

“I had a great time tonight, I can’t wait for this date you are going to ‘woo’ me with,” Lindsey placed both hands on Sara’s hips.

“I did too, glad you asked me out tonight,” Sara took a step back, removing her hands from the car and Lindsey.

Lindsey stood to her full height too, sensing the blonde’s hesitancy.

“You can hug me.”

“Yea?” Sara asked softly, stepping in close again, gently wrapping Lindsey in a hug at the midfielder’s nod.

Once they separated, Sara leaned down and opened the car for Lindsey. Lindsey slid into the driver seat.

The two bid each other good-bye, Sara turned and walked towards her own vehicle.

Lindsey sat back in her car, smiling as she watched the firefighter walk away in her rearview mirror.

#uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #uswnt x reader #lindsey horan x reader #lindsey horan imagine #lindsey horan imagines