#same thing with tumblr.. but I don’t mention that I have tumble

[phoenixwrites]

Hello! Huge fan of your work, am living for your Hellcheer fics! I am a fandom lurker who mostly spends time in the ao3 hellcheer tag, and decided to check out your blog to feed my hellcheer cravings :) What happened next was a 5 hour-long tumble down a rabbit hole of VQ thoughts and theories, and I loved every second of it!

Just wanted to say that I was absolutely horrified and dismayed to see all of the hate asks and harrassment you receive on a regular basis. 12 year olds can sure be vicious man, although I honestly think that they should be honored that you even consider giving them the time of day, it probably makes them feel super special. It is so hypocritical that they spew hatred and vitriol and clearly have no qualms bullying strangers while also being deluded into thinking they are fighting against “bad” things (I don’t want to even list examples of their ridiculousness).

Anyway, while I always try to separate my ship fixations from the actors playing them, I (respectfully, from a distance) love the idea of VQ and would love to (in a harmless manner, haha) follow clues. Is there a kind-hearted soul who has publicly curated all clues and indications of their possible relationship/interactions? Or is it all happening behind closed doors? Would be so grateful for any crumbs :)

This was such a cute ask to receive! This Tumblr policy has culled the hate so efficiently and now I’m only getting really sweet anons. I love it.

Thank you so much. The hate was very wearing—I actually mentioned to my therapist that an anon had said she should have her license revoked for treating me and her mouth fell open and she went “I TAKE THAT PERSONALLY.” It was so funny.

So—there IS a curation of all clues and indications and it is…one of those things that is so utterly comprehensive that it’s kind of impossible to deny. It is this which convinced me of VQ, but it’s not public. I haven’t even seen all of it, just particularly compelling chunks. (Like a lot of you, I’d also love to see all of it—I understand what it’s like being on the other side!)

If you dig deep enough on the right places, you can find a lot of clues. You’ll also find a lot of antis being insanely aggressive about it, as evidenced by the people telling me I should DIE for indulging in harmless gossip and spreading their own lies—most of them are really hateful towards Grace. So be careful!

Interestingly, the exact same rumors crop up from them anytime something remotely VQ happens so they must be really worried about the fact that Joe and Grace are spending the summer together.

I am very much looking forward to meeting them in June and very much reveling in the antis’ rage that I am.

[cindylouwho-2]

RECENT NEWS, RESOURCES AND STUDIES, Etsy & Google, early June 2023

Since I have been writing so much in detail about Etsy happenings lately, I didn’t have time to write my usual news summaries. Better late than never, here is what has been happening on Etsy and in the SEO world in general for the past few months. 

The bad news is I am on a 2-week road trip as of June 14th, so you may not get the rest of the ecommerce, social media and other news until into July, but I will do my best to get some work done in the car each day without an internet connection. 

Don't forget you can always follow me on Twitter or on LinkedIn to get more timely updates.  

TOP NEWS & ARTICLES 

Etsy sellers in the EU can opt out of Offsite Ads. In fact, even shops from Switzerland can do so. The UK is not currently included, and no one knows which EU law makes this possible. If Etsy gives you trouble when you try to opt out, keep pushing.  

If you ever thought Etsy wouldn’t put your shop on payment reserve, did you know they did it to Katwise? From numerous other reports in the last month or two, Etsy is now putting more shops on reserve for very small increases in recent sales, and plenty of other bizarre reasons. One seller contacted me because the now-on-reserve shop had been empty and unused since May 2022! I’ve updated my blog post with some new details, and have a new list of potential factors. Please let me know if you have recently been put on reserve and if any of the factors - known or suspected - apply to you. 

I’ve spent the past few months researching how Etsy’s seller protection plan works in practice, and yes, there are some things you can do to reduce the chance of losing money due to Etsy’s new rules. 

ETSY NEWS 

In a disturbing development, Etsy sellers in India now must use Etsy Labels for all domestic orders. Unfortunately, I don’t expect this will be the last country Etsy does this for, as Etsy is already making it difficult for people in other countries to mark orders as shipped. Anyone experiencing this issue can avoid it by using the app, by buying labels on sites with automatic integrations with your shop (so the order is marked shipped immediately), or by trying this tedious workaround on every order. 

As I previously reported in beta, Etsy introduced a “Make an Offer” option for US vintage sellers in April. 

Etsy is pulling the usual last-minute attempt at complying with new laws by having some sellers re-verify info before the INFORM Act takes effect in the US. 

Etsy’s Annual Transparency Report shows that their technology is mostly flagging items that aren’t prohibited on Etsy, even after a few years of adopting this automated approach. I cover it in detail on Tumblr. If you are interested in how search is working these days, definitely read my post! This could explain some items suddenly getting no views. 

Speaking of which, the latest glut of bot takedowns involved several different areas:

handmade items, often best sellers from successful shops. Some have not been successful getting the listing reinstated after several days of trying

drug paraphernalia, usually for items that aren’t even remotely drug-related

listings making medical claims, which now includes mentioning the FDA. Read the updated Medical Claims policy here.

Despite this supposed increased effort of Etsy policing the site, the counterfeit accusations against the Etsy marketplace continue to percolate through the media and blogosphere, with some noting that both counterfeit and basic reselling [Glossy; soft paywall] hurt genuine handmade and vintage sellers. If you prefer video on the Citron report, here’s one from Yahoo. Then this Washington Post article [gift link; no paywall] got a lot of attention regarding dropshipping and how you can get a lot of the same things cheaper on Alibaba; there was also an investigation in the UK that came to the same conclusion. 

Etsy even addressed the negative media attention in the first quarter report, which I covered on Tumblr as usual. In case you missed it, the fourth quarter of 2022 is here. 

If you use abandoned cart coupons, note that many shoppers are now receiving them within a few hours of carting your item. 

Some sellers - mostly but not all in the UK - discovered they could no longer use the shipping carrier option “Other” on their listings around May 12. Listings already using this option cannot be edited or renewed with more than a quantity of 1. Etsy Support has told many of them that this is intentional, and that they will need to select listed carriers - but Etsy does not offer some of the common Royal Mail or other carrier options in their coding. This removal also prevents sellers from using extended delivery dates when the official ones are too optimistic, putting them at risk of forced refunds under the Purchase Protection Program. 

Canadian sellers now get reduced Tracked Packet (US) rates for Canada Post through Etsy Labels, but there are several problems with the offer. It’s only available to people with Solutions for Small Business accounts (many sellers have commercial contracts, which are not eligible for this deal), but the labels purchased no longer count towards Solutions for Small Business tiers. That means you will eventually end up paying more for your non-US labels, and for your labels for other platforms and your website. It therefore isn’t useful for bigger shops that sell to more than the US, or sell through multiple channels. Also, it appears that you can get a lower rate at Canada Post counters, as well as through eBay as of April 27th. And even if you don’t use any of those sources, tracked packet to the US has been only marginally more expensive than small packet since September, so make sure you compare prices before opting for the untracked method. 

Etsy has reintroduced its wedding registry, and included the latest wedding trends in the blog post. This should work better than the first time they did it in 2012, since Etsy now has many more items sold in multiples that can be on dozens of registries without selling out. 

The old Etsy seller app was removed from app stores by May 23, and eventually it will not work any more. 

As mentioned in a previous update, now that Etsy has brought on “tens of thousands” of new sellers in India, they are working on attracting buyers in the country. In India and interested in opening a shop? Etsy has a specific “how-to” page for you. 

A new listing page is currently being beta tested and should be available to all sellers now, but you can opt out if you have it. 

Etsy Up was held in mid-May, and all of the sessions are available online now. Most of it is rather bland advertising for Etsy, although new sellers may learn some things. 

The somewhat-depressing story of how one tech writer managed to open an Etsy shop in a week with all AI-designed artwork and print on demand services. “I created a series of four retro-futuristic puzzles. The MidJourney prompt was merely this: retro-futuristic. The results were just so good that I decided to use them as-is.” Note this still took a lot of editing and time, plus skill with the AI-art generator used. 

Reminder that Etsy knows it doesn’t have to keep every seller happy, just most of them [Fortune; paywall]. Josh Silverman said "...with 5.4 million sellers, no matter what you do, you’ll find 100,000 sellers that aren’t happy... We’re trying to create an ecosystem with the right incentives so most of our sellers can succeed." [my emphasis]

SEO: GOOGLE & OTHER SEARCH ENGINES 

Chat bot/AI search is the SEO hot topic of 2023 so far, but the commentary varies widely, and offerings are changing almost daily. Therefore, I will provide very few articles on the topics for the foreseeable future, since they are often going to be out of date by the time you read them. A few exceptions this time around:

One author suggests that AI will change SEO by making social media and question answering more important. 

Google is building a new AI search engine, while adding new AI features in the existing engine. 

“If your content isn’t better than what AI can produce, it’s not worth making.”

There are currently at least 7 types of queries that Google doesn’t use AI chat to respond to. [Twitter thread]

You can use Chat GPT to build Chrome extensions that complete SEO tasks and functions [I admit I can see this sort of thing being very useful for those of use who aren’t pro coders]

This post lists 7 good sources of AI news.

Since so much has happened since my last news summary, you may want to skim through update lists to make sure you didn't miss anything. Everything important that happened with Google in February is covered here (by Search Engine Roundtable), and here is March, then here is April, and finally, May.  

Google’s March Core Update saw big increases for some shopping sites, including Amazon and eBay, plus media and government sites.  Etsy seems to have dropped a fair amount, but this is just one study. Poshmark was also down. 

Want your images to show up in regular Google organic search (as opposed to Google Image search)? The quality of the page as well as the image itself can be important. The number of photos or images on the page may contribute. 

Ecommerce SEO is both the easiest and the hardest it has ever been right now. You need to do more than just post products. [slide deck]

Google updated its advice on linking, to now include advice on anchor text (aka link text) and internal links, among other changes.  

Title tags - the words that show up as your page title on Google and in the browser tab - can affect clicks beyond just keyword use.

Want to show up for Google’s featured snippets? (They’ve changed recently) You may need to edit the page in a few different ways. 

Just 16 companies (and all of their subsidiaries) control most of the top-ranking pages in Google searches. This is an old study with newly-updated information. 

A lot of small business owners ask me what “keyword difficulty” really means. Part of the problem is that different tools calculate it differently. [article has tips on how to approach the issue] On the same topic, don’t forget Bing’s keyword research tool when you are trying to find new keywords. There are 15 other free keyword tools in this article. [I always recommend Keywords Everywhere and TagCrowd] And here is a searchable site for all sorts of SEO tools (some are paid tools). 

Google’s Search Off the Record podcast took a look at moving websites, and the possible SEO issues, with solutions. [podcast and pdf transcript] Here’s a different post with a checklist for site migrations, in case you have one coming up. 

#EtsySellerNews #Etsy #SEO #search engine optimized (seo) articles #EtsySeller #ecommerce

[wingedweasel]

Censoring tags makes no sense

Caution/Trigger warning: too many to count. Sorry, there may be a lot.

I’ve never really understood why censored words  - r*ape, f***, unalive, etc - actually exist in writing. I mean, I can understand when it’s in audio format and cursing is bleeped and a transcript reflects that (although that makes it harder for the hearing impaired to enjoy the media in question, but that’s a different topic. And oh boy, is it a big topic). 

However, while tumbling through the vast void that is tumblr, I came across a post that was talking about tags and how they don’t work unless they words/phrases are tagged correctly. I agree. A tagging system that looks for words like rape, wont necessarily pick up that r*pe is the same word. “There is a dead body in the corner” or “The person was killed” may not be filtered the same as “There is a unalive body in the corner” or “The person was unalived.” I just don’t get it. And this isn’t coming from someone who isn’t triggered or wigged out by these things and thinks people should just ‘man up and deal.’ That is bs and that kind of mentality should be unalived by a bang bang device. 

No this is coming more from the perspective that I can make context clues. From my understanding, while the word/phrase may cause some people problems, it is also the situation that they are used in. Hearing/seeing a slur is bad enough, but when you are reading something and a situation where a slur is used, but censored, comes out of nowhere, that’s a problem too. I would be less troubled by a word than the situation that it is used in. I can filter words and phrases out, but there are so many different ways to censor things, that it is guaranteed that I will miss something. A lot of somethings. 

As a writer who pretends to write, I would want my audience to no, you know, have traumatic flashbacks and end up never reading/finishing any of my works. One bad experience with a writer can put off readers until the end of time. So why do people not tag responsibly? Also, that thing about being able to understand context clues? I can understand that bitch is the same as b**ch. The examples above, an average reader can understandably recognize what was being said. So if a person wants to read something without any of those themes? Oops, too bad. They’re gonna get a face full of them if they missed some random way someone tagged those words. 

As I said before, there are so many different ways to censor things. Audio is relatively easy: you can bleep or add a random sound effect, blur the mouth, cut the audio around the word altogether, and these are just the more common simple ways. There are so many more. However, most audio media, tv/movies for example, usually have a warning of some kind before the program starts. Games often do as well. Not to mention the ESRB ratings that are labeled on everything. 

But with writings, having a faulty sorting system makes it that much more difficult to filter out what you don’t want to see. There’s just too many different ways to censor a word that it makes it seem as if there shouldn’t even be a tagging system to begin with. Obviously I don’t mean that; tagging is key to getting your writing to the audience you want, but still. 

Anyway, I’ll end my rant here. Mainly because I say so, but also my cat is telling me he wants to be fed. So yeah, if any of y’all want to add to this, go ahead, if not, whatevs. 

#writing #tagging #tags #censor #censorship #is a broken system better than no system at all #the joys of writing

[knackfandomarchive]

I think I'm learning that tagging for general purposes is like an ingredients list. In hindsight, this is obvious, but I haven't made the explicit connection until now. Using tags like this would also make it easier to filter out tags for those who need it, rather than using warning tags.

For instance, because tumblr's tag filtering system blocks the exact tag, other tags that essentially refer to the same thing can slip through. An example given in the community labels article is that if you have the #ferengi tag blocked, you'll still see posts tagged with only #tw ferengi.

So, presumably, it would be easier on those who need to filter out that stuff to only need to add #ferengi or #ferengi mention to their tag filter. Rather than both of those in addition to #tw ferengi, #ferengi tw, #cw ferengi, #ferengi cw, #trigger warning: ferengi, etc etc.

Using tags as an ingredients list also helps people find the subject, of course, and avoids stigmatizing those who enjoy the subject or are the subject. From the top of my head, I vaguely remember some heated arguments when someone tagged something #tw bisexuality or similar.

An ingredients list also doesn't have to be super detailed. Think #apples and #bananas and maybe #fruit, rather than #green #pome #desk #yellow #brown #round #oblong etc. Unless you do intend to sort your posts by color, texture, and taste, in which case, have at it!

I know most of the responses in the "wanna learn how to tumble with me?" Were "I don’t mind either way." So I'm kinda just posting whatever I find interesting or annoying.

So, I'll probably just use tags like #art, and the character names, rather than trying to figure out if a piece is #digital art or #traditional art. Unless it's something like #craft art, since I think that's more valuable to specify.

If you want me to tag particular posts, concepts, and things, whether that's to filter them out or search for them in particular, send me a message! In fact, even if you think I'll get around to it, you cand send me a message anyway and I'll put it higher on my project priorities.

#text post #how to use tumblr #tags #blog maintenance #discoknack (me)

[camscendants]

Me:I have 1741 followers on tiktok

My dad:wow what’s your username?

My brothers:Yeah tell us

Me:

#heh #yeah #my mom would be on here too but she’s dead #same thing with tumblr.. but I don’t mention that I have tumble #tiktok #gay #lgbt #lgbtqia #the closet is clear tho #closeted #lesbian #john mulaney #comedy #relateble #anti trump #fuck trump #homophobia #homophobic family #homophobic dad

[magpie-to-the-morning]

Some more kinky head canons about some Pedro boys under the cut. Because tumblr is tumblr, I can’t tag it so here is your heads up that this post is explicit (18+ only). Minors, DNI.

Also, I tried to keep things as gender neutral as possible, but I don’t think I quite succeeded due to the nature of some of the kinks.

Javier Peña

Food play - You’ve brought so much sweetness into Javi’s life that he imagines you dripping with it. The idea burrows into his mind so deeply that one night he mentions it while drinking you down like nectar, devouring you with all the attention you’ve seen him lavish on fruit fresh from a roadside stall. It gives you an idea. The next time he comes to your bed you’re ready. He licks honey from your breasts and teases you with strawberries until juice is running down your body and his chin.

Fucking in public/risk of being caught - There’s no denying that Javi is a bit of a thrill seeker, and the adrenaline of dragging you into a quiet corner, his broad palm muffling your moans as he takes you hard and fast and dirty while you melt in his arms, eyes peeled for any potential witnesses, drives you both wild. It’s the adrenaline, the illicit thrill that does it for him. Don’t be fooled though, he will have thoroughly scoped the place out beforehand and made sure the coast is actually clear, not wanting to risk you being harmed in any way for the sake of a cheap thrill:

Housewife kink - He’d never admit but Javi longs for the comforts of home, and for someone to take care of him. Just try surprising him at the door in an apron and heels, handing him a cocktail and asking how his day was and see how fast that world weary work stress melts away, replaced by that grateful, affectionate gleam in his eyes as he reaches for you.

Frankie Morales

Size kink - Frankie lives a rough and tumble life, one largely filled with people as broad and strong as he is. But you… You’re so small (even if you aren’t, not really), but tucked safe against his broad chest, your hands held tightly in his, you feel that way. He wants to surround you, envelop you, to hold you close, keeping his entire world safe in his arms. He loves the feeling of cradling you beneath him while he fucks you, delicate and fragile but shielded from the world by his own body.

Primal play - Don’t be fooled- Frankie knows that you’re not actually fragile or helpless. He’s well aware that you can handle him (big dick and all), and it’s those contrasts that thrill him. Knowing that you feel safe enough with him to unleash your darkest desires makes him fucking feral and he will gladly indulge you, chasing you down, throwing you around, and fucking you as savagely as you beg for. Speaking of which…

Marking - It may take a little convincing (to Frankie, bruises and marks are signs of violence, of a world he would rather die than expose you to), but once you convince him that you crave those reminders of his fierce love on your body, he’s all in. He wants them too, though, urges you to bite harder, claw him deeper, until you’ve both thoroughly staked your claims, leaving aching traces that bind you together, even when distance keeps you apart.

Din Djarin

Possessiveness - The first time Din growls “mine” in your ear, the enormity of it staggers you both. It’s true- you’re his and he’s yours and damned if he isn’t going to remind you of it every damn day he’s lucky enough to be by your side. He’ll add “my” (or in Mando’a, “ner”) to his pet names for you, pant the word “mine” when he’s inside you, and stake his possessive, protective claim the instant so much as someone looks at you with anything less than the respect you so clearly deserve. It’s not just verbal either- it’s clear in the way he’ll shadow you through a shady cantina or stand behind you, arms folded, while you go about any business you have to transact. And the day he catches you gazing longingly at a leather collar in a market? Well. That night he’ll surprise you with two things: that very same collar, and a thin, pretty choker made of beskar- “in case you still want one when we’re in public.”

Dumbification - This man has a competency kink a mile wide, which is one of the reasons he adored you- his capable, independent love. The flip side of that is the perverse desire to see you blissed out drooling, too cockdrunk to remember your own name. Only he gets to see you like this, fucked out and mindless with pleasure, utterly pliant beneath and for him. He understands the release it gives you, the relief of setting down your burdens for a little while and turning yourself over completely to him. It’s a privilege, an honor, one that he never takes lightly.

Pregnancy/Lactation - It’s not (just) the idea of breeding you that makes Din utterly wild. Of course he loves the idea of marking you that deeply, of bringing new life into the world with you, sharing a family, a clan, a future with you. It’s everything that comes along with that- providing for you, keeping you safe, and maybe most of all, worshipping your body as it changes, growing round and ripe and swollen with his ad’ika. Forget bounty hunting- he wants to spend all day loving on you, stretch marks and cravings and all. And when your milk comes in? You’ve never seen a Mandalorian brought to his knees faster than Din, round eyed and pleading, begs you for a taste.

Whiskey

Shibari - Obviously this man is a master with ropes, so just imagine him learning that there is an entire practice devoted to tying your partner(s) up in intricate, beautiful knots. Add in a little suspension and you have one delighted cowboy with some new skills to master. Now, if only he could find the right partner…

Vulnerability/honesty - I’ll be honest, I don’t know if there is a kink for this, but everybody’s got their something and for Whiskey, it’s knowing that you want him, quirks and mannerisms and shady past and all. It might take some work to get him to be that vulnerable with you but once you’re both at that place, he won’t settle for anything less. He’s got enough lies and secrecy and bullshit in his work life so when he comes home, he wants to know that you see him for who he truly is and still somehow want him.

Denial/Edging - In a similar vein, Whiskey can never get over hearing you beg, to know beyond the shadow of a doubt that you want this, want him. That, and he’s just enough of a bastard that he likes dangling you at very crest of release and hauling you back from it over and over, getting off on knowing that he is the one who gets to bring you the pleasure you crave so badly. Besides, you’re so pretty when you beg.

Marcus Pike

Bondage - When Marcus does anything, he likes to do it thoroughly and well. So when he makes love to you, he doesn’t want any distractions- not even his own pleasure, sometimes. He wants to take his time, turn all his focus on you and make you feel good. And if he gets a thrill out of being in charge, or watching you writhe, helpless and splayed out for him, well, who could blame him? He does have excellent taste, and you do make such a gorgeous picture.

Impact/pain - I truly don’t think anyone can spend as much time around medieval paintings as Marcus surely has and not come away with a deep understanding of the exquisite ecstasy of pain. Of course he would never hurt you, not truly, but watching you shiver as he teases you with gentle strokes of a flogger? Or listening to the shuddering gasps and moans you makes when he strikes you with it? Oh, he’ll gladly play the role of the loving tormentor if it means getting to take you apart piece by delicious piece. Besides, the harder the play the more aftercare you both get to indulge in. Any marks he leaves on your skin show that you belong to him and he loves soothing them afterwards.

Overstimulation - This man doesn’t just want to make you feel good. He wants to bring you more pleasure than you ever imagined, to devastate you with pleasure until you can’t take any more - and then prove to you that you can. And if that ruins you for anyone else, well, so much the better. Marcus is in this for the long haul and hopes you are, too.

#Javier Peña x reader #Frankie Morales x Reader #Din Djarin x Reader #Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x Reader #Marcus Pike x Reader #Fic #My Fic #Head canons #Pedro Boys

[clare-with-no-i]

Finite Incantatem

a fun jily ficlet twist on a prompt I saw floating around the Tumblr ether a few weeks ago: 

“this time, when X walks away, Y doesn’t follow.”

--

This time, when Lily walks away, James doesn’t follow her.

This probably has something to do with the fact that he can’t get his legs to work. Or his arms. Or his brain, now that attention’s been brought to the matter.

She keeps walking. Her hair has these two little braids that have been looped prettily at the back of her head—some sort of imitation bow or knot that stands out from the long, crimson strands underneath—that bounce and jostle with her steps.

Her steps down the corridor and away from James, that is.

From next to him, Sirius lets out a sound that one might reasonably attribute to a sculptor who’s just watched their life’s work tumble into the ocean. It’s a half-groan, half-wheeze that errs just on this side of disgust.

“She’s walking away from you, Prongs,” he observes after a moment of sepulchral silence.

“I see that.”

“You’re not following her.”

James looks down at his feet and then back up, as though to confirm this assessment. “That’s true.”

Evidently not belabored by the same uncooperative limb disease as his best friend, Sirius takes a step forward and then turns around, so that he and James are facing each other. His expression is a stark reminder that, for however smart James thinks himself to be, he is also unfathomably, indisputably stupid.

“Lily Evans just asked you to if you want to be her boyfriend.”

Some small set of wires begins sparking inside James’s head. “She did, didn’t she?”

“You’ve been in love with her since we were thirteen.”

“Right.”

“And what did you—James Potter, Quidditch captain, Head Boy—respond to this question?”

“I, er…”

“Go on, then.”

“I…” James swallows. “I said finite incantatem.”

Even though he’s just witnessed the entire thing, Sirius looks stricken at the admission, like he’s just realized that the past seven years of his life may have been spent with a very artfully disguised flobberworm as a best friend. He plows on expectantly: “And why did you say that?”

“…Because I thought she’d been confounded.”

Now that it’s out in the open, the full, spine-tingling horror of the situation settles into James’s body. He brings the heels of his hands to his temples and groans.

“Oh, my Merlin,” he sputters, “I said finite incantatem.”

“There we go.” Sirius reaches over and pats him on the back, much like one would a small child in the midst of a rather violent nauseous episode. “There it is.”

“Padfoot—”

“I know, mate.”

“I just—”

“You did, mate.”

“I want to be her boyfriend so badly.”

This, at least, is the crux of the matter.  It is because of this very truth that he seems to forget how to conduct himself in her presence—an affliction which, what with their burgeoning friendship and his recent begrudged acceptance that friends was all they were ever destined to be, has not reared its ugly head in a good few months.

Until now.

Sirius nods sagely at this statement like it’s nothing of note to him. Which, in fairness, is probably true, given how many conversations about the very subject he’d been dragged into over the years.

“…Do you,” he asks slowly, “maybe—I don’t know—intend on telling her this?”

Lily’s bemused expression after his monumental cock-up flashes into James’s mind, and he has to fight off a horror-struck shudder. The quirk of her lips, the way she’d looked at Sirius and then back at him before shrugging, throwing an exceedingly casual well, just let me know when you decide, I suppose over her shoulder as she trotted off.

“I haven’t really decided if it’s worth facing her again.” James admits.

“My god,” Sirius looks briefly to the sky—presumably for some sort of divine intervention. Or, possibly, a strike of lighting to smite one or both of them. “Thank Merlin the animagus business wasn’t an attempt to transfigure yourself into Lily Evans’s boyfriend. We’d never have gotten past the theory.”

The mention of the animagus business spurs something inside of James. He takes a steadying breath—like Sirius mentioned, he’s Head Boy, and Quidditch captain, and he became an unregistered animagus at fifteen. There’s no reason to lose his head just because the girl he’s been pining over for the better part of his adolescence has just asked him to be her boyfriend.

“Well?” Sirius’s voice jogs him back into the present. “Are you going to go after her, or what? Odds are that by lunch the whole castle will start gossiping that you’ve rejected her. I’d say not even two hours after that before other offers start rolling in.”

A cold, gripping fear takes over James’s entire body, and his eyes widen as horrifying images begin to accost his mind. There are too many other boys in this castle—he can’t possibly fend them all off at once.

“NO!” He roars, which takes a few passing third-years by surprise. “NO—I mean, YES!” At Sirius’s wordless get on with it gesticulation (some semi-circular waving of arms accompanied by a very haggard expression), he breaks into a sprint down the very same corridor through which Lily has just left, shouting: “LILY! WAIT! MY ANSWER’S YES—LILY!”

Technically, so the tale is told, James does not follow her that day. He just comes sprinting up to her a few minutes later, flowers transfigured haphazardly out of spare parchment held aloft and shoved in her direction, and proclaims his wish to be her boyfriend so loudly to the entire hallway that professor Flitwick comes out of his office to tell him to calm down. And to congratulate them.

#my stuff #finite incantatem #I got a writing bug 20 mins ago and here we are fellas #jily #jily fic #ficlet #James potter #lily evans #etc #fic #hope this is an enjoyable turn from my recent emo fic fest HA

[rockingrobin69]

A First

“I’ve never actually, erm. Not – not like this. Not on purpose.”

Harry shifted his gaze until it fell upon the face next to his, pale features impossibly paler in the moonlight. He didn’t look real – couldn’t look real, bright as he was, shimmering almost. It was hard to focus on anything else. Harry found concentration was often a problem for him, lately. Especially when Malfoy was close.

“You hadn’t? Not ever?”

“No. Well, I mean, I’d seen it before. From my bedroom window, at Hogwarts, I don’t know. But I never went looking for it.”

Harry’s chuckle felt warm in his mouth. “For someone named after a constellation, I thought you’d be all into that kind of thing.”

“I know my star map well enough, you cretin. It’s just that I never went gallivanting around the countryside for the chance of seeing a few shooting stars, that’s all.”

“You mean a meteor shower.”

“I mean, shut up.”

Harry relaxed on the blanket they transfigured, finding it surprisingly easy. They’d been driving through northern Scotland for a couple of days now, and he thought the sky would never clear up. Somewhere around Elgin the clouds finally gave, and now – hiding from the campsite behind a hill, they had the perfect view. The sea made rhythmic, calming sounds, the sand was soft underneath them, and Malfoy was so delighted with seeing a seal a few hours ago he actually kissed Harry. This road trip was quickly turning into the best idea ever.

“There was this meteor shower when we camped on a cliff once. During the war. I always told myself…” Harry let the rest tumble out as a sigh and released it to the wind. It was cold for August. He pressed closer to Malfoy, finally having a good excuse. “So when Hermione mentioned it I just thought. Not to fix the past, you know? Just – to do something I wanted. Finally.”

“With me,” Malfoy said, a touch of incredulity in his voice. Harry felt the shudder through his chest when he reached out a hand, lacing their fingers together.

“With you.”

There was a tiny, secretive smile on Malfoy’s face. “I thought the objective was to look at the stars.”

He was right. The night sky was stunning – ethereal, breathtaking, unbelievable almost in its splendor. Harry wanted to look at it, but he couldn’t unstick his eyes from Malfoy no matter how much he tried. “Soon.”

“Do you make a wish? When you see a shooting star?” A flush crossed Malfoy’s cheeks and made him look adorable enough to eat, but for once Harry didn’t find it exasperating. He felt oddly sated. It was so freeing, being out here, all this quiet around them. Peaceful.

“I do. Always the same one, actually, since I was very young.”

“Yes? What is it?”

The pause wasn’t hesitation; Harry was just having a hard time not taking himself a couple of inches further until there was nothing between them anymore. “I, er. What was the question?”

“Your wish.” Malfoy sucked on his lower lip, and Harry was only human. He shook his head a couple of times, but it didn’t help at all. “Potter?”

“Yeah?”

“What did you wish for?”

Malfoy was soft, and open, and right there, and Harry was giddy with it all. When he finally spoke it came out more honest than he intended. “I always wished to get to see another one.”

“Oh, Harry,” Malfoy whispered. His hand squeezed Harry’s, and his eyes were so wide. One heartbeat followed the next in silence, and Harry knew exactly what he wanted, but not if he could manage it. What was the purpose of this trip? Another heartbeat made the decision for him. Harry gave into instinct, and now that was the best idea ever.

However many hours later he finally untangled himself from Malfoy, covered in sand and grinning from ear to ear. They both lay back down on the blanket, Malfoy’s head resting on Harry’s chest, and everything was perfectly all right. Or just perfect. They kept silent, and Harry would have been happy just staying there forever, no need for anything more, not even –

“There! did you see?”

Harry did. A big burst of light, slower than the last few, bright across the sky. He closed his eyes and made a wish.

“Let me guess. You wished to see another one,” Malfoy turned to nuzzle his neck. Harry nodded, because he couldn’t put into words what went through him right now, but it was a bit of a lie. For the first time ever, he wished for something slightly different.

This fic is humbly and lovingly dedicated to @malfoypeacocks - you always make me laugh with your brilliant, brilliant tags for every reblog! Seeing all the amazing art on Tumblr is fun, but seeing it with your tags is even better. You said you want your boys to be happy. Hope this’ll do.

#drarry #fic #fluff #like really fluffy #I'd be excited if I saw a seal #tbh though I get excited very easily #Draco Malfoy #Harry Potter #RockingRobin69

[blackspoon99]

The Empty Hearse Pt. 3

Sherlock x Female! Reader

TW: Mentions of Death and Blood 

Part 1 

Part 2

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Monday - 12:26 pm

Meanwhile, you were meeting up with Mary for lunch to congratulate her on the engagement. A simple lunch with a friend seemed mundane compared to what had just happened. It was a welcome change from the ludicrousness of having an old friend literally come back from the dead. Mary truly had been a breath of fresh air since Sherlock had died left. She was one of the people who had helped lift you out of that dark place. You were selfishly thrilled that the engagement meant she had a more permanent future in your life as well as John’s.

You walked into the café to find her already waiting for you at a table near the window.

“Oh Mary, congratulations!” you cried as she pulled you into a hug. “You and John are just made for each other. I can’t imagine anyone better, truly, I can’t”

The lunch began with you and Mary discussing the early plans for the wedding, whether she should get married in May or June, possible venues, and other pleasantries. Mary really had wanted to know one thing from you since you arrived, and she was getting tired of waiting. Finally, she let out a groan and interrupted you just as you were giving your two cents about wedding flowers.

“I’m sorry Y/n, but enough stalling. I have to ask. How are you? You know, after Sherlock?”

“Mary, I love you, but can’t we just enjoy lunch without talking about him? He’s not my whole life you know… well not anymore.” You mumbled the last part.

“I know, it’s just that John used to talk about how happy you were back in those days. I’ve never brought it up before because I was respecting your boundaries but now that you have the chance to get even some of that happiness back…” She gently reached across the table and placed her hand on yours. “I just can’t keep my mouth shut anymore.”

“I don’t know Mary. How is anyone supposed to be okay after something like this? I don’t really know what to feel.” You looked up at your friend and your face softened. You knew Mary meant well. “Maybe you’re right Mary. I can’t deny I was happy during that time with John and Sherlock. But my life back then was…ugh I’m trying to find a better phrase than ‘downright mad’!”

Mary let out a light laugh. “I’ve only ever heard about it from John, but it seems like it. Why don’t you tell me a little about it? Please? John’s not one for details.”

It had always been hard to talk about the happy memories because of the nature of Sherlock’s death. Although you were the most confused about your emotions around Sherlock than you had ever been, it couldn’t hurt. “I suppose I could indulge you in a few stories”

You sat in the café and recounted some of your favorite memories with Sherlock. A particular favorite of yours was the first time John invited you over for tea after you’d met him through a mutual friend. Sherlock had burst through the door covered head to toe in blood carrying a harpoon. Later, you’d learn the blood wasn’t human, but it was still quite an eventful first meeting.

Mary watched as you spoke with more light in your eyes than she’d seen as long as she’d known you. This was a new person altogether. Mary decided then and there that she would do whatever she could to bring the happiness back to you. She tried to conceal a knowing smile as she realized she’d witnessed two people coming back to life in a single week.

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

Monday 4:24 pm

Later that afternoon, you returned to work. Even though it didn’t pay too well, you loved working in a bookshop. The perks were many: the quiet, your favorite café being just across the street, and all the books you could want at a generous employee discount. Today, a new shipment of bestsellers had arrived, so you spent most of the day sorting, organizing, and reading the first chapters of some of the books while the owner wasn’t looking.

You were struggling with a full box of books when you heard the bell at the door ring. “Welcome! Let me know if I can help you find anything!” you yelled over your shoulder in the general direction of the customer. As you turned around, a corner of the enormous box clipped a bookshelf, and the box went tumbling sideways. Before the books could come clattering to the floor, someone caught the other side.

“Need some help?”

You looked up to see none other than Sherlock Holmes, large as life, dramatic wool coat and all.

“This isn’t space, Sherlock,” you said coolly, yanking the box back and moving around him.

Sherlock caught up to you and reached his arm out and leaned against the wall in front of you, blocking your path. “Have dinner with me”

“What?”

“Come on, have dinner with me, y/n.” He flashed you the smile that always made you melt

You sighed and placed the box on a nearby table. Your heart felt heavy all of the sudden. You knew you part of you still wanted to. You knew an even bigger part of you felt the same way for Sherlock as you always had. But whenever you looked at him, all the good memories of him were mixed in with the pain you’d felt when he left. You wanted to separate them, to forget everything and give in, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to.

“I can’t Sherlock, I’m sorry”

“Why not?”

“I told you I needed space. I need more time, Sherlock. You didn’t listen to me.”

“I don’t understand. I thought we were alright.”

Sherlock looked like a kicked puppy. Although his face was still calm, you had learned to see through his exterior years ago. You knew he didn’t fully understand why you were rejecting him. Suddenly you felt guilty.

“I know, and we are, it’s just-” You turned your head away as it had suddenly become difficult to meet his gaze. “You jumped off a building, Sherlock. Then you let me believe you were dead for 2 years. You don’t understand what that does to a person.”

Sherlock stood in silence. His features were slightly contorted. You could feel your face beginning to heat up. Why did this hurt so much?

“I still care about you, Sherlock. But as much as I want them to, things can’t just go back to the way they were. At least not yet.” You tried to give him a sympathetic smile. “I can’t forgive you right now, but I promise I will try.”

“Well, if not dinner, how about chips? I know a place.”

You laughed in spite of yourself “You never did know when to give up, did you?”

“Come on, I’ve got a terror threat on. No better time for chips, the world is ending.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about”

“Want to find out?”

He got you. “Fine. After my shift, I’ll come and meet you at Baker Street. Let’s give it a try.”

“Looking forward to it.” Sherlock turned to leave.

A warm feeling spread through your chest. Little by little, the good was coming back. It was more hope than you’d had in a while. You decided that you were looking forward to it too.

A/N: I indulged my own escapism fantasies and made y/n work in a bookstore. In another life…

The rest of this fic will probably be a mix of actual scenes from season 3 with some made-up ones like these

Taglist: @the-chaotic-cow @amoeebaa

(I also apparently didn’t know how to properly tag people on Tumblr. Sorry taglist friends it should work now)

#Sherlock Holmes #Sherlock #bbc sherlock #sherlockxreader #sherlock imagine #sherlock x reader #sherlock x you #sherlock holmes x you #Sherlock Holmes x Reader

[gaysimpsstuff]

Flightless Birds Chapter Three; Where Birds Belong

Chapter One Here

Chapter Two Here

Chapter Four Here

Chapter Five Here

Summary: After visiting Kouten in the hospital, Y/n gets more and more ‘gifts’ from their stalker. But what are they supposed to do when it gets to be too much? Make a huge mistake, that’s what.

Word Count: 2.4K Words

Warnings: cursing, intrusive thoughts, mentions of masturbation, unwanted sexual letters, threats, police officers, implied drugging

Other: the first half of this chapter was meant to be in the previous chapter, but since Tumblr is a bitch I couldn’t do that and it was pushed here. 

Taglist: @smolchildfangirl @combat-wombatus @cathy8taffy @1small-frogs @catcherisvibin @waffleareniceandfluffy @mandalorian-baby-bird @theblueslytherin @hawksadmirer @assassinslittlesister @deepcollectorphantom (lemme know if you wanna be added to or removed from the taglist)

Numb. 

Was that the right word to describe how you were feeling?

Your heart was hammering away in your chest, and your whole body felt light as a feather.

Your head was foggy, and you felt like the world beneath you was shifting, tumbling around like the tectonic plates of your life were slamming and crashing into each other.

When you arrived at home, there was another ‘gift’ waiting for you. You picked it up and brought it inside. You knew you should probably just ignore all the packages and throw them away, but you just couldn’t.

Why? Why must your curiosity be satiated like this?

Today, it was a teddy bear. A red string was wrapped around its neck. You sighed, setting it on the nightstand with the other ‘gifts.’ 

More and more gifts started to arrive over the next week and a half. Clothes you’d expressed interest in, small shiny things, key-chains, and a couple more dead animals. You were sick and tired of it, and you were stressed out of your mind.

You hadn’t slept in days, you were hardly eating, your weird stalker had started leaving notes talking about you. They knew things about you that they shouldn’t know, it was getting to be too much. You felt heavy and cotton-headed. 

Calls from unknown numbers appeared every day now, and most of them included you just saying ‘hello?’ Into the phone until the caller hung up.

You were so tired, and so freaked out. 

Paranoia flooded your mind about your stalker breaking into your house and hurting you. 

But you felt so selfish. All your stalker was doing was creeping you out. You hadn’t actually been hurt yet, however Kouten was in the fucking hospital! He had almost been killed and you were worried about a few creepy notes.

How much of a horrible person were you?

You had one comfort; him. 

Izanagi.

You’d been spending less and less time at your flat, and more time with Izanagi. You spent every other night at his house, and you’d gotten so used to sleeping in the same bed as him that you felt you couldn’t sleep without his gentle touches and soft breaths.

Everything about him calmed you, his gentle green eyes, the constellation of freckles on his cheeks, that one tooth in his mouth that was twisted to the left, the days when he forgot to do laundry and you had to fold his clothes, you loved it all.

Your feet hit the pavement too hard as you approached your home. The stray tabby cat of your neighborhood dashing away from your front door as you approached.

You looked down, exhausted.

There was a rectangle of white on your welcome mat, your name printed in the fancy kanji of your stalker’s handwriting.

You slowly lifted it off of the ground, entering your home. Everything was quiet…

Too quiet.

You sat down on the edge of the bed, flinching at the sound of the mattress creaking under your weight. Slowly, you peeled open the envelope, unfolding the letter. Your eyes scanned down the words, nervous.

Dear Y/n.

You’ve been getting all my presents, right? Gosh I do hope you enjoy them. I can’t believe I’m finally writing you a letter! It’s so exhilarating, you know? 

I’ve never felt like this before, ever. Nothing even came close. God Y/n, I’m so in love with you! Do you know? I’ve been courting you this whole time! We’re birds of a feather, both lazy as fuck but so vulnerable.

I wish I didn’t have to hurt Yuu like I did, but that little bitch had to die. Unfortunately he survived, how tragic.

You stopped reading looking up for a moment. You were right! Your stalker had been connected to Kouten’s attack! That… didn’t feel very nice. You thought you’d feel better about it, but now you just felt sick.

It was your fault Kouten was hurt.

I could understand he was close to you, I hated that. I would have gone for Fujikawa, but he’s surprisingly cautious. You’d think he’d be more reckless, being as fucking stupid as he is, but nooo. 

I’ll have mercy on him, I’m sure it’d just make you upset to see him dead anyways. But I swear, go near him again and I’ll kill him. 

I don’t wanna talk about that in my first real letter with you, so instead I’ll just talk about you.

How breathtaking you are.

How fucking gorgeous you are.

Y’know, you really are fucking amazing, you think I didn’t see? You really took the time to appreciate yourself yesterday, I think that was your way of saying you loved me back! Touching yourself… oh fuck you looked so hot.  Think I didn’t hear? I really wish I was there, fucking you the way you need. I’d give you everything you’ll ever need. You won’t need anything but me. 

Baby you’ve just given me my next month’s worth of masturbation material.

Remember, I love you!

    -Your future husband

No. Fuck fuck no. Gross get out drop it throw up rip it to shreds hurt smash something scream no no no no no get out get it out get it out find him report him police heroes what the fuck Izanagi-

Izanagi.

Izanagi.

Hey siri, call Izanagi.

“Yo, Y/n! What’s up? Miss me already~” Izanagi. His voice relaxed you and you found your brain forming coherent thoughts again. You opened your mouth to confess what was happening, but nothing came out. “Y/n? Are you okay?”

Then you cried. 

It felt so good to finally cry, you hadn’t cried in what felt like years, sobbing and looping his name, your only comfort in this chaos.

“Woah, woah, hey what’s going on? Hang on I’m coming over, don’t you fucking dare hang up!”

You sniffed, nodding, continuing to just mutter his name. In Just under five minutes, he was letting himself in with the spare key. You felt the bed shift, and you felt his warmth next to you. You fell against his side, crying harder. He held onto you, rubbing at your sides.

“Hey, hey. Come on, what happened? Tell me!” you could hear the fear in his voice. You still didn’t feel like you could speak so you just shakily handed him the letter you received, hoping he’d understand your reaction once he saw what you’d gotten.

His eyes scanned the paper before widening, and he covered his mouth with his hand. He dropped the paper, standing up and grabbing a suitcase from your closet and starting to fill it with clothes. He moved with haste, and you noticed he was grabbing your favorite clothes.

The sweatshirt he’d gifted you for Valentine’s Day, the Edgeshot t-shirt you wore every other day, the sweatpants you always slept in, 

“W-what are you doing?” you whimpered.

“You really think I’d let you stay here when some fucker obviously is watching you? I’m gonna report this to the police. No one is going to hurt you, okay? No one hurts my friends!” he turned back to you, a hard look in his eyes. You had a feeling that if he ever ran into your stalker, it would take multiple top heroes to hold him back from killing the guy.

You were grateful.

Izanagi helped you pack, and you told him all the other details. How it started with the Hawks beanie, how you’d gotten bottle caps and sweatshirts, and even dead animals. How you felt too scared to tell anyone, afraid of getting blown off.

He comforted you, he promised you he’d protect you. You felt safe with him. He would protect you. You thanked him religiously as he helped you bring your things over to his place. He kept telling you that of course he’d be doing this, it was the right thing to do.

This man… this man was your rock. He was your everything. You knew there’d be no way to fully repay him for his kindness towards you, but you promised yourself you’d try. 

You sat on his bed again, realizing that for the time being, this was your bed too. He was beside you, holding you tight and comforting you. You relaxed into his touch, before a realization struck you.

“Izanagi- he threatened to kill you. He hurt Kouten too, he- he can probably kill you if he really wants to.” Izanagi shook his head, pressing a finger to your lips.

“Nothing, I swear nothing is going to happen to me. Okay? Now, we’re going to the police station. You will not leave my sight, you will not let go of my hand. You’re not gonna wander off without telling me, etc etc. Clear?”

“Crystal.” you smiled softly, nodding. “Thank you so much Iza.”

“Like I said, of fucking course I’d do this. Come on, let’s get in the car.” he took your hand, putting your stalker’s letter in his pocket and taking you with him back out to his car. You got in the back, and he drove quickly. He glanced back at you repeatedly, double and triple-checking you were there and safe. 

  Finally, he pulled up at the police station and got out, quickly running around to the back doors as you got out. His hand was instantly on yours, pulling your body close against his and walking in the station with you. He briskly walked up to the police lady behind the counter.

“Oh, hello! Is there something I can do for the two of you?” she asked, it was so sweet and cheerful, so vastly different from the emotions swirling around in your mind.

“Yes, here.” Izanagi pulled the letter from his pocket and handed it to the lady. “My friend has a stalker, and he’s attacked another one of our friends.” the woman looked over the letter, nodding.

“Alright, I’m going to have some officers talk to your friend in private and-”

“Not happening.” Izanagi growled. “I get it, but I’m not leaving my friend.”

“I- I want him in the room.” you added. “Please.” the woman sighed, shaking her head.

“I’m sorry, but unless you are a minor, I can’t have anyone else in the room with you. Even then it would be limited to certain people. It’s a safety precaution.”

“Fuck!” You grabbed Izanagi’s arm, rubbing his bicep to calm him down. He turned to you, offering you a strained smile. “You’ll be okay, right?” he asked, worried. You nodded, a feeble attempt to comfort him.

He gave the officers that came in a hard look, like he expected them to hurt you. You broke away from Izanagi’s comfort and followed them into a questioning room.

There were so many questions.

Every little detail about your life, even things that didn’t seem all that important. You told them everything you told Izanagi, plus a little more. They weren’t very comforting, and when you got scared, they got angry. It wasn’t at all like Izanagi, who softened when you were upset. Any detail that you didn’t have, they seemed to be upset with you about it. As if you were supposed to do your own little investigation illegally. It was… very annoying.

“Alright, we’re going to call a hero in here.” one of the officers told you. “Hawks has been doing a lot more patrols in your area than usual, he might have already seen your stalker and can probably take care of it for you. Is that okay?”

Hawks. You’d just met him one. He was a hero. He was trusted, beloved even. 

Call him in. He’s Hawks. He’s the number two. He wasn’t creepy, just do it!

“That’s fine, I’ll talk to Hawks.”

Maybe you should have thought about it more.

Maybe you should have trusted that feeling in your gut telling you ‘no.’

Maybe you shouldn’t have told Izanagi. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have involved the police.

Maybe you shouldn’t have spoken with Hawks so casually when you met him.

Maybe you shouldn’t have been a bird.

Maybe then.

You’d be free as you once were.

It took five minutes. Then the door swung open and he walked in. It had been a week or so since you saw him, but when he layed his golden eyes on you, you got the feeling that you’d seen him only yesterday, in a flash of red in the dead of night.

“Hello, Y/n L/n.” He spoke calmly, but you noticed a slight tremor of excitement. Why was he so happy to see you? 

You felt chills run down your spine at the way he sat next to you, taking your hand and rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. His whole body seemed to vibrate in happiness, his wings fluttering as he locked eyes with you.

You shyed away from him, desperately trying to take your hands back, but his grip was firm. There was no escape.

“I-I changed my mind, officer!” You turned to the policeman, who was just leaving the room, leaving you with him. “I don’t want to talk to a hero, I’m sorry!”

The man turned back to you, a lazy, amused, smirk on his face. 

“Don’t worry, he’s a pro. You’ll be fine.” The man waved you off, shutting the door behind him. You felt like screaming, or throwing up, or both.

Something about Hawks seemed off. The way he looked at you, touched you, grinned so wildly at you, he didn’t look like a hero.

He looked like a crazed lunatic.

Click

The officer had locked the door.

“U-um, hi, Hawks.” you whispered, voice quiet. Fuck you wished Izanagi was here to comfort you. Hawks’ gloves were cold, the beaten leather rough against your hands, they were nothing like the gentle warmth that Izanagi’s soft skin emitted. 

His grin only grew, and he pulled you close to him, arms reaching around under your wings to grip your back. You squeaked, instinctively grabbing onto his biceps. His body was pressed against yours, and his breathing quickened, his face buried into your shoulder. You could feel him inhaling your scent.

“Fuck.” he growled, and you could feel his talons digging into your skin through his gloves and your shirt. “You have no idea how happy I am to finally see you again.” his voice wavered, and you could practically feel his excitement.

“S-sir, please let me go-” you whimpered. “I’m here to report a crime, not as a fan trying to meet you.” the hero cooed, only holding you tighter. 

“I know why you’re here, dear Y/n~” his breath tickled your ear, and you felt tears brimming in your eyes. “And I know who’s been following you. So nice of him to send you all those gifts, right~?” 

No

“So cruel of you to act like he’s a criminal.”

Not like this 

“He’s going to take good care of you~” 

Not right now 

“I love you so much”

Ow.

You felt... foggy.

And warm, really warm.

Tired…

So… tired…

Darkness.

#bnha #mha #keigo takami #mha hawks #bnha hawks #bnha x reader #hawks x reader #hawks x y/n #mha x reader #takami keigo #flightless birds #yandere hawks #yandere mha #yandere bnha #yandere #hawks angst #male reader #hawks x male reader #hawks x trans reader #hawks x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #poc reader

[jay-is-not-alwright-at-writing]

“These miracles flooding me won’t ever make it leave, because I can still hear your voice calling out to me.”

Surprise! It’s not a Marble Hornets story this time, but FNAF Security Breach!

I was mostly inspired by that line pretty early on in the game that Gregory says, for Freddy to be careful and not “twist him into a meat pretzel” while Gregory is in his tummy hatch. Haha, well …

What if, instead of Freddy attacking Gregory if he looses power- he just shuts down for a brief moment, and until he gets charged Freddy goes on total shutdown mode- I imagine Freddy is consciously keeping the wires and springs and metal bars in his tummy hatch out of Gregory’s way whenever he’s inside- so when Freddy shuts down …

Not gonna lie, I honestly forgot I wrote this months ago, lol. Enjoy the angst!

(Warning: mentions of blood and child death)

Gregory knows they won’t be able to make it to a recharge station fast enough. If they get left out in the open like this … even worse, if he got stuck in Freddy’s stomach hatch? The security lady might find them, but then what?

And if she didn’t first … one of the other animatronics would …

Freddy is idly going on about their current predicament, but Gregory only feels a sickening rush of primal panic seize him as he tries to desperately grasp Freddy’s attention to let him out, feeling more than a little claustrophobic.

Freddy’s voice drowns out as Gregory stares at his watch, the ‘low power’ bar slowly blinking a visceral, damning red. All logic leaves him and Gregory skips explaining, now pounding on Freddy’s hatch with all of his feeble strength to be let out. Freddy has stopped moving, sounding concerned and calling his name.

A tiny voice in the back of Gregory’s mind tries to calm him; Freddy certainly hears him and was seconds away from opening the hatch so he could tumble out.

The bright red bar slowly blinks. The sound of a mechanical ‘pop’ resonates and all of the sounds Gregory normally hears while harboring away in the small hatch die out, Gregory’s pounding heartbeat swallowed by his shrieking screams. “FREDDY! DON’T SHUT DOWN! DON’T SHUT DOWN! DON’T SHUT DOW-“

. . .

When did Freddy get back into his room? He was in the lobby near the restrooms just moments ago with Gregory leading the way, wasn’t he? Yes. That’s right.

Maybe Gregory had left him to go venturing on his own? That certainly isn’t a good thing, even less so like something Gregory would do, but still, he was just a kid.

Freddy quickly uses his thermal imaging to scan his room for any sign of the child (all of the animatronics, performers or not, have a thermal imaging feature for times where a child could possibly be running a high fever or where a lost child needed to be found- such as this very instance.)

No indicating sign of Gregory being in the room. Freddy would need to go find him-

Freddy’s eyes sweep over the mirror, just for a moment, but what he sees makes him stop in an instant.

His stomach is covered in a deep crimson, dripping and slowly pooling onto the carpet beneath him.

His stomach hatch. Oh no Oh no Oh no.

Without processing, Freddy presses a hand to his stomach hatch and listens in a detached shock how the sounds of the hatch opening aren’t of whirling knobs, but of a horrific squelch and the deafening crunch of bone.

A lifeless thud and Freddy is kneeling down to scoop an unmoving, bloody, tiny body into his arms.

Gregory’s face is one of panic, unseeing and lifeless yet fearful all the same. The right side of his head is … his remaining eye blown wide, tear streaks indistinguishable from the blood.

Left foot snapped the wrong way, his small hand a crushed mess.

Gregory is completely limp and far too heavy in Freddy’s hold.

This never was supposed to happen.

Not to his Superstar.

・・・・★・・・・★ ・・・・ ★・・・・

This work belongs to Jay-is-not-alwright-at-writing, if you have read or come across this outside of this Tumblr account that means it was stolen and reposted without my knowledge or consent. Please do not support apps or websites that repost without permission and/or illegally profit off of other people's work. ♡

・・・・★・・・・★ ・・・・ ★・・・・

#FNAF Security Breach #FNAF Gregory #Glamrock Freddy #FNAF Michael Afton #(‘Michael is Glamrock Freddy’ fans eat your heart out lmao) #My writing #FNAF drabbles

[coffeestainsandcashmere]

Let No Man Steal Your Thyme - An Older Dramione Story, Part Two

Since folks seemed to like the first part (thank you so much for letting me know, by the way! It’s genuinely quite scary flinging stories into the dusky blue void of Tumblr, especially if you’re relatively new to contributing to a fandom...!!), here’s Part Two.

Premise:

Draco, eight months after becoming a widower, nearly loses his son too in a vicious attack at Malfoy Manor. In the aftermath, while he’s being questioned by the aurors, there’s no one to look after little Scorpius, who just won’t stop howling. In desperation, and remembering how good Hermione had been with his kids, Harry brings the baby up to her office. In the end, the only thing that will calm the child is the soft hum of Hermione’s voice as she sings to him. Of course, that would be how Draco Malfoy finds her, wouldn’t t it? And then, eleven years later, Hermione meets him again and ends up asking him to lunch at the Leaky…

(Warnings in Part One (and in any future chapters) for past Ron/Hermione, and implied infertility. No explicit Ron-bashing, but it’s implied that their relationship couldn’t take the strain and he looked elsewhere. I may develop it later, but it won’t be a Ron-bashing fic. They’re just ultimately incompatible in this universe).

Read Part One here

Part Two - Lunch for Two at the Leaky

___

Hermione, being Hermione, arrived at the Leaky Cauldron just over half an hour before she was due to meet Malfoy there. After getting a large glass of dry white wine from the bar and settling into a table with a view of the doorway, she took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and then delved into her infinite handbag of holding to draw out a book.  

Twenty nine minutes later, a soft snort made her jump, and she looked up, blinking, to find Draco Malfoy towering over her table, a tiny smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “Some things never change, do they Granger?” he said. He was still in that beautiful navy blue suit that fitted him so damned perfectly he could have strolled straight out of the glossy adverts in Witch Weekly, and it made her mouth go unexpectedly dry, and her brain rather blank too.  

Her cheeks flushed and she opened her mouth, but promptly realised she had nothing to say in rebuttal, so closed it again with a click of her teeth and shrugged. “I guess not.”

“You want another one?” he asked.  

“Another book?” she blurted, frowning.  

To her surprise, Malfoy barked a short laugh, silver eyes glinting. “No, Granger,” he said with an odd intonation. “Drink.”

She glanced down at her nearly-empty glass, and pursed her lips. Raising one eyebrow, she turned her face to look at him slightly askance and smirked. “Just what kind of degenerate do you take me for?” she parroted back at him.  

“Of course. The ex-Minister for Magic can’t be seen drinking herself into a stupor at midday with a former Death Eater now, can she?” he sneered, the humour vanishing. “I’ll be right back.”

Blowing the rising tension from her lungs, she hoped this wasn’t going to be a huge mistake and closed her eyes a moment, then returned her book to her bottomless handbag. With nothing to do until Malfoy returned — if he even returned, of course; he could have just bolted for the back door and disapparated — she cursed and fussed with her cuticles until the crisp click of dragonhide leather Oxfords rose above the low lunchtime murmur in the pub.  

“That was ungracious of me,” he said as he sat down. “I’m sorry.”

“Forgiven,” she said quickly. “I’m a touch nervous too.”

Malfoy went still at that, but instead of unleashing another snippy comment at her expense, he just twitched his lips and nodded slightly in acknowledgement. “To the most unusual of days,” he said, raising his own glass of white. 

She clinked the remnants of hers against his, and added, “And to new beginnings, I think.” She looked at her watch and smiled. “They’ll be just south of Birmingham by now, I suspect.”

“Who will?” he asked after sipping his wine. She half expected him to make some kind of remark about its inferior vintage, but he seemed happy enough with it.  

“The Express,” she said. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten dear Scorpius already?” she teased.  

He shook his head. “No. But you’re as hard to keep up with as you ever were, Granger.”

“I don’t recall you ranking too many places behind me, Malfoy. And you beat me in Potions every year bar one, though I rather suspect Snape had a hand in keeping my marks down there…”

He shrugged noncommittally.  

“Which house do you think Scorpius will find his way into?” she asked. “Slytherin like his father?”

“Probably,” Malfoy said ruefully. “He can be a cunning little shit when he wants to be.”

She had to smile at that. “Tell me about him?”

Malfoy sighed and took another sip of wine. “He’s smart,” he began, somewhat hesitantly, as if he thought he might bore Hermione if he said too much about his son.  

“No surprises there,” she scoffed playfully. “Is he a future seeker too, or do the similarities end with the brains?”

A very slight flush blossomed on Malfoy’s ice-white cheeks. “I didn’t know you even remembered I played quidditch, Granger.”

Her eyebrows rose and she tried not to snort wine out of her nostrils. Malfoy had looked devastating in his quidditch kit as he’d grown into it, not that she’d ever admitted that to anyone. He’d been a right arse too back at school, no matter how beautiful his own had looked in his flying gear, so her admiration then had been purely aesthetic. “Yes, Malfoy,” she sighed. “I do remember that. I also remember the Slytherin team being quite the thorn in our side for most of our time there…”

He hitched a lopsided smirk and took a sip of wine.  

The way he held the glass in long, steady fingers made her core heat slightly and she had to look away. The reaction took her off-guard. It had been years since she’d felt even the slightest flicker of sexual attraction for anyone.  

“Are you admitting that we were actually good, Granger?”

Hermione rolled her brown eyes and shook her head, causing a cascade of curls to tumble into her face like an avalanche set off by the merest touch. Shoving it all back out of her eyes, she said, “Much as I’d like to say it was only daddy’s money and a set of fancy brooms that gave you an edge, it wasn’t. Flint was still a dirty rotten cheater, but half of you were pretty darned good. And it doesn’t even take a quidditch player to see that. So how old was Scorpius when you had him on a broom of his own?”

A cloudy look passed over his eyes and he blinked slowly. “Four.”

“Four!”

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Granger. I didn’t plonk him on a broom, slap the bristles, and send it racing off into the middle of Wiltshire with my son and heir alone. He rode in my lap with me until he was seven or so, and even then, I enchanted his broom not to go above five feet. He was furious about that,” he chuckled. “Naturally, he tried everything he could think of to undo the enchantment, but in the end he resorted to getting one of the house elves to undo it. She was devastated when she realised quite what she’d done and came to me immediately.”

Hermione’s lip curled involuntarily at the mention of house elves. “So long as you didn’t make her iron her own hands in punishment,” she said before she could stop herself.  

Malfoy blinked, blanching and obviously taken aback. “No, Granger,” he breathed, and after a long pause he added, “I am not my father.”

The words rang in the air between them and something unpleasantly akin to shame coiled in her belly, soured by the wine on an empty stomach. “Now it’s my turn to apologise for being ungracious,” she said. “I’m sorry. I know you’re not your father. I’ve known that for a very long time.”

Before Malfoy could open his mouth to reply, Old Tom shuffled over and stuck some menus under their noses. “You said you was stayin’ for lunch, ma’am, but neither of you’s collected a menu,” he said before disappearing.  

“Ma’am,” she repeated in a stage whisper to Malfoy. “I never got used to that at the Ministry. Makes me sound like some old frump.” A tiny, bitter snort escaped her and she added, “Well, if the shoe fits.”

“Granger, please,” Malfoy drawled. “You are anything but an ‘old frump’.”

Drawn up short by the unexpectedly open compliment, she looked at him, lips softly parted.  

“What?” he asked, looking like he thought she might hex his balls off if he moved so much as a muscle. “Surely Weasley must have told you the same thing once or twice? I know the man is about as artless as a grindylow, but…”

The sudden mention of Ron’s name nearly gave her emotional whiplash, and she huffed a tiny laugh. “We’re not together anymore. Surely you heard?”

“I hadn’t,” he said, voice flat. “I’m sorry.”

“You must be the only person in the entirety of Wizarding Britain who missed that then,” she groused, opening the menu and taking in the options without really seeing them. “Rita Skeeter’s nasty little protégée wrote an entire Prophet article on our breakup.”

“I haven’t exactly kept up to date with current affairs,” he said awkwardly, lowering his gaze to the menu.  

“Current? This was eleven years ago, Malfoy.” She fixed him with a wary stare and whispered, “Don’t tell me Ginny was right? You really are a recluse?”

“This would be my first public outing in a very long time, yes,” he said carefully without looking up. “But I do venture forth from my little fortress every so often. I was at Theo’s anniversary do a few months ago.”

“I missed that,” she said. “I was supposed to be there, but Harry had a crisis with his brood. You’d never believe it - there was a cursed photo-frame stuffed behind a piece of panelling in the drawing room at Grimmauld, and Lily managed not only to find it but to activate it. She was stuck inside it for hours and Harry was beside himself, but we got her out and she was alright in the end.”

“Grimmauld,” Malfoy murmured, and his silver eyes rose to meet hers. “My aunt’s family home?”

She nodded and then the knut dropped. “I forgot you’re a Black too by blood.”

His mouth twitched and he nodded. “I haven’t been there since I was a very small child. I’m assuming they redecorated…”

“Thoroughly.”

“Not thoroughly enough,” he quipped. “That awful tapestry still knocking around?”

“God no,” she scoffed. “That was one of the first things to go. Along with the collection of shrunken house elf heads and the troll skull that screamed at you if you got too close to it. There was even a boggart in the basement, if you can believe the cliché. Anyway,” she said, keen to change topics, “You were proving to me that you aren’t a complete hermit. Was Theo’s party really the last thing you went out for?”

He seemed a little bashful as he nodded. “I… I don’t exactly find myself welcome everywhere, even now, Granger,” he said dryly. He’d nearly finished his wine, and when Tom hobbled over to take their food order, he asked for a second glass, in which Hermione joined him.  

“Guess we are degenerates after all,” she said as she met his eyes over the empty table.  

“The people behind you certainly seem to think very little of your choice of prandial company, Granger,” he said flatly, interlacing his long fingers and arching a pale eyebrow.  

Where at Hogwarts he’d had pale, pristine hands, now she saw innumerable scars and nicks across his knuckles, and they were undoubtedly the strong, steady hands of a grown man, with none of the softness of youth. Heat bloomed across her neck and face, and to distract herself she looked over her shoulder to glower at the people shooting them scandalised looks across the dark pub.  

“Screw them,” she muttered. “They have no idea about anything anyway.”

If Malfoy was puzzled by her outburst, he didn’t show it.  

They shared their meal and spoke easily enough about Hermione’s astonishing and unprecedented rise through the ministry, and how she’d cracked one day — the details of which she chose not to divulge — and had quit and decided to open a bookshop instead. “It’s been so much more fulfilling,” she finished, slightly breathless.  

“A bookshop?” he smiled, eyes glittering.  

“I know, I know,” she growled, gesticulating with her dessert spoon in between delicious mouthfuls of Florian’s ice cream which the Leaky now sold. “Could I be any more cliché?”  

With a graceful shrug of one shoulder, Malfoy just said, “I think it suits you. And if it makes you happy, why not?”

“What makes you happy then?” she asked before her brain had caught up with the question. “I mean…” she flushed hot again. “I just wondered what you do up at the Manor all day.”

“Well,” he said evenly around a slice of apple tart, “Until this morning, I largely oversaw Scorpius general education, but I have been involved in a number of other projects here and there too.”

“Projects?”

“Mmm,” he said, but clearly wasn’t in the mood to elaborate and she didn’t press.

“Well, Theo’s having drinks at his place on Friday… you should come.”

“Which place?”  

“He has more than one place? I thought he closed Nott Manor up for good?”

Malfoy smirked. “He has a number of places, Granger.”

“Oh,” she said, feeling stupid. “Well, his usual one here in London, I suppose… He didn’t tell me anything different…” She set her spoon down and sat back. “Merlin, I’m full,” she laughed. “So, will you come?”

“Do you always invite strays to other people’s parties?”

“Do you always deflect social invitations in the hopes that they’ll go away if you ignore them long enough?” she countered with an even stare.  

Malfoy’s spine stiffened a touch at that, but the look which settled onto his face could only be chalked up to respect, and he allowed himself another flinty smile. “Touché,” he said. “Yes, it usually works well enough.”

“Not this time.”

“Evidently,” he said with crisp enunciation. “Fine. I will consider attending.”

She snickered almost childishly at that. “You make it sound like it’s some fancy black tie do that you might condescend to attend if the mood strikes…”

“I don’t know what a ‘black tie do’ is, but I am considering condescending to attend all the same.”

“Fair enough. And a black tie event is a Muggle thing. It’s like dress robes for Muggles.”

“Ah, I see. Thank you.”  

And with that, their conversation stalled for the first time all afternoon. Hermione looked down at her watch and gasped. “God, Malfoy, it’s been three and a half hours!”  

“I’m surprised you lasted five minutes if I’m honest,” he said quietly.  

She frowned and delved into her handbag again, looking for her coin purse. “You fancy taking a walk to shake all this food down?” she asked, but Malfoy was already shaking his head.  

“Unfortunately, I really should get going. Please, Granger, let me pay for this. It’s been an unexpected pleasure on a day that would otherwise have been very grey indeed.”

His sincerity struck her like a physical blow, and she could hardly respond as Tom came over as if summoned by the clink of money, and Malfoy smoothly left a handful of coins on the tray and told Tom to keep the change.  

“Very well, M’lord,” Tom said, bowing slightly as he left.  

“‘M’lord’?” Hermione asked and Malfoy immediately rolled his eyes.  

“I really wish people wouldn’t call me that. Mercifully it doesn’t happen all that often. I usually find myself on the receiving end of far less gracious epithets.”

“You are a lord though? Your father wasn’t a lord, was he?”

“No. It’s Lord Black, technically. My father had no claim to the title, being a Malfoy, but with my mother’s blood, I inherited the title. Needless to say, I don’t bandy it around if I can help it.”

“I see,” she said, rising from her seat. “Well, thank you for lunch. You really didn’t have to pay though.”

“I know,” he said shyly as he stood with the grace of a lifelong seeker. “Still, it was a pleasure.”

She smoothed her clothes out, trying to avoid feeling like that frumpy old matron beside the lean, tall figure of Draco Malfoy, and pursed her lips. “See you Friday then?”

Before he’d obviously thought about it, Malfoy nodded. “Friday,” he said, and then realised he’d committed himself and laughed softly with a knowing twinkle in his eyes. “Friday,” he said again.  

Hermione held out her hand to him and he surprised her yet again by taking it delicately in his fingers and raising her knuckles to his lips. The faintest brush of a kiss against her skin set her tingling all over and she nearly gasped, flushing a dark crimson.  

“Good day, Granger,” he said, and stalked from the pub.  

Outside on Diagon Alley’s cobbled streets, he disapparated without looking back.

___

If you liked where it’s going and want to see more, do let me know! Either by reblogging this or sending me an ask.

Part Three

writing masterlist | Ao3

#dramione #draco malfoy x hermione granger #hermione granger x draco malfoy #older dramione #older Draco Malfoy #older hermione granger #older draco malfoy x hermione granger #older hermione granger x older draco malfoy #scorpius malfoy #draco malfoy and scorpius #draco and scorpius

[emachinescat]

II've decided to watch MacGyver from the beginning (again), and I'm live tweeting the experience with every tweet tagged with #savemacgyver. I thought it would be fun to share my collected thoughts from the episodes on here as well.

My Thoughts on S1E3, "Awl"

You're not only going to make it to 30, Mac, but you're going to make it to season 6. #savemacgyver

I love that Jack's bucket list includes finishing the Harry Potter books. Guess he's not a one-trick pony after all with sci-fi. A healthy blend of science fiction and fantasy is just what the doctor ordered.

Dylan Thomas reference! That poem was written about the poet's own father, and is about how everyone, no matter who they are or what they stand for, fights against death in the end. He's begging his dad to "rage, rage against the dying of the light," to not give in to death so easily, to keep fighting. Just taught this poem, actually, so I'm vibing with this reference super hard. Though to be fair, I'd be vibing with it anyway. Love Dylan Thomas.

Oh my gosh, this is the one with the fire extinguisher and inflatable escape! I'd forgotten which episode that came from, but I see GIFs of it all over Tumblr. Poor Mac especially, that looks like it hurts. Why is Lucas Till so good at being whumped?!

Jack hugging the fire extinguisher: Iconic.

I'll never get tired of seeing that polar bear! Do we know if he has a name?

I cannot get over how small and excited Bozer is, not a care in the world except for his movie. It's exciting to think about what's to come for his character growth, though I do wish he wouldn't have to go through all the things he does. :(

Jack's conversations with his dad at the grave are just everything. And I feel cheated that we haven't gotten to see Mac have the same kind of conversations at Jack's grave (though I firmly believe it's a regular occurrence off-screen).

Seriously, the way he talks to his dad is so familiar, so comfortable, so natural. It's like Daddy Dalton is right there with him and it fills me with so many emotions that I can't even.

The smile on Jack's face and the pride in his voice when he talks about Mac to his dad is the purest thing ever.

Also, that's a big-ass tombstone Jack is leaning against.

"Hi, Mr. Dalton. How's... life?" MAC! 😂

I can't tell you how much I love it when other characters talk about how smart Mac is. "He's a genius..."

First mention of Mac's dad. It's sweet how invested Jack is in Mac rebuilding his relationship with his old man. Also, I really wish we would have gotten a flashback of Jack's dad at some point. He seems like such an amazing man.

"If I could have one more day to sit and talk to my dad instead of that hunk of rock, I'd do anything." Jaaaaaaack 😭😭😭

Good old Ralph Kastrati. Single-handedly the most annoying character in all of cable television. Y'all have no idea what you're getting into with this one, dream team.

PUNCHFACE.

"My mom dated a guy like that once." Ouch. I'm about to start a Riley Zinger Counter for each episode. Her comebacks are 🔥

It's not just his face, Jack. Everything about this dude is punchable. Especially the way he says "yo."

Ewwww tightie whities no thanks imma head hom now byyye

Mac just snatched that can right out of Jack's hand as he was about to take a drink. Classic.

If I didn't hate Ralph before (spoiler: I did), then I extra hate him for the foie gras comment.

Yes, Jack, "asshat" is the perfect descriptor for this guy.

Is Mac seriously about to just make him some noise-canceling headphones? Who am I kidding? Of course he is.

I need more of Mac punching people in the face. For science.

Poor Jack didn't get to punch the punch face.

🎵 Snipers gonna snipe, snipe, snipe, snipe, snipe 🎵

Between the foie gras and the calfskin, they are really making this guy so easy to hate just sayin'.

"As soon as you're done saving his life, I'm gonna kill him, you hear that, smart-ass? I'm already dressed for the funeral." 🤣🤣🤣🤣

"He's g-good. He just... got kinda shot." Is that the medical terminology, Mac?

Jack using country music as a form of torture 🤣

"You're going to be seeing Yelp stars if you don't shut up!"

Have I mentioned how much I love the music in this show?

"I don't wanna die listening to country music!"

I love how bossy and grabby Mac gets when he improvises.

Another belt grab! I can’t get over Jack trying to keep his crazy partner from falling out of the window – it gives me life!

Actually makes me wonder if he does it because Mac’s taken a tumble out of a car window before. *fanfic brain engaged*

“You know how I feel about your puns.” C’mon, Mac, pus are the greatest forms of humor, bar-pun. (Geddit?)

Mc made a C in biology? I’m not buying it.

Dwwwwwww the sounds of the surgery. No thanks.

Though I will say this is one of the coolest (albeit grossest) things Mac’s ever done on this show.

What the heck is with that elevator door? It took a whole 10 years to close! I wouldn’t trust it. (To be fair, I don’t trust any elevator, but that’s neither here nor there.)

Sir Bleeds-a-Lot lol

Riley stepping in and taking charge once again. No idea how these two functioned before she came along.

Some seriously cool MacGyverisms in this episode. The whole process of “killing” Ralph and bringing him back with office supplies is so OG MacGyver and it gives me all the warm fuzzies.

Ralph: “You’re not a scientist, you’re not a doctor. So how the hell do you know all this stuff?” Mac: “...I read a lot of books?” I love Mac so much.

“Now go die.” Lolololol

The moment with Ralph wanting to call his mom and grow the hell up is surprisingly genuine and heartbreaking. Character development for a character in only one episode, hello, is that you?

“He’s dead, but he’ll get better.” MacGyver, 2016

Riley’s comeback about Jack’s plan to take out six guys if Mac takes out two is another winner. (Riley: 2, Jack: 0) Still, I love the whole, “Sure it does [count as a plan]. First, I’ll take two. Then, I’ll take the other four.” This is why Mac is the plan guy, not Jack.

“Or I can take them all out.” Mac’s confidence = 🔥

I might need to start a Mac sass counter too. Jack: “You seriously want me to put this on my face?” Mac: “Only if you like breathing.”

Jack’s left fist getting jealous 🤣

They really liked choking Mac in the early episodes, didn’t they? Not that I’m complaining. Actually, why did that stop? That strangled, panicked cry of “JACK?!” is music to my fanfic writing, hurt/comfort obsessed, whump-loving soul.

That cough - it actually hurts me to hear it! They should have given us some more repercussions or aftercare for Mac breathing in that gas!

Ralph fell asleep. Of course.

“You know, it’s weird. I’m glad he’s alive… but I still want to kill him. 🤣 I’m with Jack on this one!

Ralph: “A fresh start. I could use one of those right?” Riley: “Or a whole new personality.” ZZZING!!! Riley: 1 million, the world: -10

Oh he did not just call Riley “little hottie.” I’m back to wanting to kill him, character development be darned. So diminutive, dehumanizing, and objectifying. This guy has more than won the douchebag lottery. Riley can more than stick up for herself, but still. The way he speaks to her here makes me feel all kinds of gross.

He just said “ya heard” unironically. Can we let Jack punch him now, please?

Jack offering to let Ralph keep the cash he lifted if he gets to punch him is great, but even better is Mac and Riley offering to chip in money for The Cause.

Oh, yeah, Bozer was in this episode. I’m excited for when he is utilized more!

Bozer’s monster Mac is nightmare fuel!

“A letter? That you put in the mail? It’s 2016.” Hey, as someone who has an actual, old-school type pen pal, step off, Jack.

Mac: “You just gonna watch?” Jack, offended: “Not anymore.” How is it Jack is like Mac’s dad but they also bicker like 5-year-olds? This relationship is so strange, so wonderful, and the heart of the show in so many ways. I love them.

Mac’s words of wisdom about the nature of life are actually super encouraging and exactly what I needed to hear today.

I’d forgotten how much I love this episode – t’s so fun! Although the Codex storyline in season 4 is probably my favorite plot-wise, coming back to these early episodes is like a breath of fresh air! Excellent, excellent episode with so much to offer!

What are your thoughts on "Awl?" I'd love to discuss! :)

#macgyver #jack dalton #riley davis #wilt bozer #macgyver rewatch #my thoughts #episode review #save macgyver #we can still save our show #emcatreviews #spoilers #s1e3 #awl

[rhosyn-du]

Never make a mess when a total catastrophe will do - Chapter Five

Pairings: Jimon, past Clace, background Clizzy, a bunch of other minor background pairings Rating: Explicit Art: @cor321​ Beta: @all-thestories-aretrue​ Tags:  Alternate Universe - College/University, fake dating, oh my god they were roommates, friends with benefits, idiots to lovers, pining, miscommunication, holidays, drinking games, mistletoe, symbolically significant Oreos, domestic fluff, brief mention of past character death, Jace’s self-worth issues deserve their own tag Summary: What do you do when you find out your sister is not only dating your ex and love-of-your-high-school-life but is also bringing her home for Christmas? Bring your annoying, hot, annoyingly-hot roommate as your fake boyfriend to show them you're totally fine with it, obviously! There's no possible way this could backfire. Link: AO3 , Tumblr Master Post

Chapter Five

Jace worried that things would be weird when they got back home. He and Simon hadn’t spoken since New Year’s. He’d thought about texting, had in fact written and deleted at least a dozen texts over the next three days, but he never actually sent one. After all, Simon was the one who left without a word, and Jace wasn’t the kind of guy who chased after a hookup who wasn’t interested.

But when he finally got back to the apartment, it wasn’t weird at all.

He arrived home late afternoon the day before classes were due to start again to find Simon and Maia on the couch playing Overcooked. Simon glanced away from the game just long enough to tell Jace there was pizza in the kitchen if he wanted some, and that was it. The three of them spent the rest of the evening gaming, Simon acting like nothing at all had happened and Jace trying to convince himself that it didn’t bother him in the slightest. If Maia noticed anything, she didn’t let on.

The beginning of the new term was busy enough that they didn’t see each other much over the next few days, and Jace threw himself into his new classes with an enthusiasm he usually reserved for more hedonistic pursuits. Thursday night found him at his desk, deeply immersed in his world history reading. He was in the middle of a very dry passage on the Byzantine-Norman wars when he heard a light knock on his bedroom door.

“What is it?” he answered, not looking up from his book.

“Hey,” Simon said, opening the door. “I was just wondering what you were doing tonight.”

Jace looked up from his book only to have his brain come to a screeching halt. Simon was standing in his doorway, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. A small towel. It was disturbingly reminiscent of that first week living together, when Jace had realized exactly how hot Simon was. Except now he knew what it felt like to touch Simon, to kiss him, knew how he liked to have his dick stroked and the noises he made when he came.

With great effort, Jace snapped his eyes up to Simon’s face. Simon, who was still talking like nothing at all was off about him just strolling into Jace’s bedroom mostly naked.

“Because I don’t have any plans, and I was thinking maybe you might want to do something. You know, if you’re free.”

There were many things Jace wanted to do, all of which involved divesting Simon of that towel.

“Were you planning to put pants on?” Jace was proud of how level he managed to keep his voice.

The look Simon gave him was somewhere between flirtatious and challenging. “Do you want me to?”

He didn’t. He really didn’t, but he also didn’t know what the hell was going on, and while Jace would never say he didn’t knowingly walk headlong into bad choices on a regular basis, he tried not to make the same mistake twice. Three times, tops.

“Simon,” Jace said levelly, “what are you doing?”

“Seducing you?” Simon seemed to deflate a little. “Or, you know, failing to seduce you, apparently.”

“Not exactly failing,” Jace admitted, standing to move closer to Simon, who gave him a tiny, hopeful smile. “But I thought you said this was a mistake.”

“Well, I’ve been thinking about it,” Simon said, “and maybe I was wrong.”

Hope rose like a cresting wave inside Jace’s chest, and he struggled to keep it from sweeping him away. “I had fun on New Year’s.”

“Me too,” Simon said, taking a tentative step closer. “Like, a lot. And I was thinking, you know, we’re obviously into each other, so maybe it wasn’t a mistake. Wouldn’t be a mistake.”

Jace found himself nodding. This could end in disaster, probably would end in disaster if his life thus far were any indication, but standing here with Simon so close, his smile so bright, Jace thought maybe it was worth the risk.

“I mean, as long as you’re not seeing anyone else,” Simon said quickly, and that rising swell of hope crashed like shattering glass. “Because I don’t really—”

“I get it,” Jace interrupted. He didn’t actually need a detailed explanation of why Simon was only interested in hooking up with him until someone better came along. It was all anyone ever wanted from him, and most of the time it was what he wanted, too. “We’re both hot and single, so as long as neither of us is seeing anyone, there’s no reason we can’t have fun together.”

Simon’s brows furrowed, and for a second Jace worried that he hadn’t managed to hide his disappointment, but then Simon was smiling at him again. “Yeah, of course. That’s exactly what I meant.”

“In that case,” Jace said, taking the last step that put him firmly inside Simon’s personal space, “my answer to your earlier question is no.” When Simon started to frown, he clarified, “I don’t want you to put your pants on.”

“Good,” Simon said, leaning in so that their lips just barely brushed as he spoke, “because I’d much rather take yours off.”

Their mouths met in a kiss that was surprisingly gentle, and Jace had to pull away after only a few seconds because of how much he wanted.

“Do you think we can make it to a bed this time?”

Simon glanced over at Jace’s bed, as though he were seriously contemplating the answer to that question. “I think we can probably manage.”

“Good,” Jace said, catching Simon’s gaze and holding it. “Because I really want to suck you, and you’re not going to be able to stay standing when I do.”

Simon kissed him, hard and fast. “If you keep talking like that, we definitely won’t make it to the bed.”

It took them far longer than it should have to make it across the room, mostly because Simon seemed intent on making sure Jace wasn’t wearing any more than he was by the time they got there, but Jace eventually felt the backs of his knees connect with the edge of the bed and pulled Simon with him as he tumbled into it. They landed in an awkward sprawl, half-laughing into the kiss they refused to break as Jace tugged at the towel that was somehow still knotted around Simon’s waist.

Simon made one of those soft, desperate noises that Jace was quickly becoming addicted to as the towel fell away, and Jace stroked a hand up Simon’s thigh, just high enough to tease. He left it there, unmoving, as he deepened their kiss, licking into Simon’s mouth with intent.

It didn’t take long until Simon’s hips were moving, trying to find friction for his rapidly hardening cock. It took only a few seconds longer for him to realize Jace was doing it on purpose.

“Should’ve known you’d be like this,” Simon said between kisses. “Just as much of a dick in bed as you are everywhere else.”

“Not much of an insult, considering that you like my dick,” Jace answered, finally moving his hand to trail lightly up the length of Simon’s cock, eliciting a shaky gasp. “Consider this payback for coming in here in nothing but a damn towel.”

“Oh, that’s how it’s going to be, huh?”

That was all the warning Jace got before he found himself on his back, hands pinned to the bed above his head, Simon straddling his thighs. He flexed his arms experimentally, determined he probably could get free with enough effort and also that he really didn’t want to.

He cocked an eyebrow at Simon. “What are you going to do with me now that you’ve got me?”

Simon swallowed hard. “So much,” he said seriously. “You said you want to suck me and that works out because I kind of really want your mouth, but first I’m going to show you what happens when you’re a tease.”

“You’re one to talk about teasing. Do you ever bother to take clothes into the bathroom with you when you shower?”

Anything else Jace might have said was lost in a startled gasp as Simon’s mouth closed over his left nipple, a swirl of tongue punctuated by a sharp nip of teeth. Simon repeated the treatment on the right, and it was enough for Jace’s hips to give a tiny, involuntary jerk. Against nothing at all, since Simon was sitting far enough back to keep him from getting any kind of friction.

Jace managed to bite back the frustrated whine that wanted to escape. He wouldn’t give Simon the satisfaction.

“I wasn’t sure you noticed,” Simon said, before returning his attention to Jace’s nipples, and it took Jace several seconds to remember what they were even talking about. When he finally did, he lost any hope he’d had of keeping quiet. Simon had thought about whether Jace was watching him, had maybe wanted Jace to watch him. And that was…that was a lot.

“Fuck,” Jace gasped. His hips were moving again, unable to keep still. “Fuck, Simon.”

“Hmm?” Simon asked innocently as he finally ceased his assault on Jace’s nipples. “Something I can do for you?”

“You could try not being such a—” His words were cut off, lost into the ether with any possibility of coherent thought as Simon’s teeth sank into the skin just beneath his clavicle, hard enough to leave behind a pleasant ache. He wondered if there would be any hint of a mark left by morning. He hoped there would be.

Jace let his head fall back against the bed, baring his neck in invitation. Simon’s hands weren’t pinning his to the bed anymore so much as holding them. Simon seemed happy to take him up on his invitation, worshiping Jace’s neck with tongue and teeth, and finally sucking a deliberate mark into his skin, just above his collarbone, where it wouldn’t be obvious unless he wanted it to be.

“Simon, please.”

“Please, what?” Simon asked, all amused faux-innocence. “I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me what it is.”

“Want you,” Jace growled, finally breaking free from Simon’s grip to tangle a hand in his hair and drag him into an impatient kiss. Simon kissed back, just as desperate, and made absolutely no protest when Jace pulled their hips together to finally get some friction. The kiss slowed, no less wanting, but a little less frantic as they rocked together.

“You have me,” Simon murmured against his mouth, and Jace shuddered with the weight of those words, with how much he wanted them to mean so much more than Simon intended them. But he did have Simon now, and he was going to make the most of it. Which reminded him that he’d gone into this with a plan.

Simon made a noise of protest when Jace pulled away but quieted immediately as Jace moved down his body, tongue following the line of dark hair that led from his chest down to his belly button. He got distracted there for a minute, tracing the lines of Simon’s abs with his tongue, reveling in the way the skin tensed and relaxed under his mouth.

“What did I tell you about teasing?” Simon asked, breathless.

“Don’t remember,” Jace lied, sliding down so that his breath ghosted over Simon’s cock, making his hips jerk. “But you seem pretty into it.”

He didn’t give Simon the chance to respond, sliding his mouth over Simon’s cock and taking him down to the hilt in one smooth motion, swallowing around the head. It was almost too much, too quick, and Jace had to fight back his gag reflex, but it was totally worth it for Simon’s broken-sounding, “Holy shit.”

Jace backed off, tonguing at Simon’s slit and sucking at the head of his dick before sliding back down, then repeating the pattern. It wasn’t the first time he’d deep-throated a guy, but it wasn’t something he had a ton of practice with either, much as he enjoyed it, and he knew better than to rush himself. It got easier every time he took Simon into the back of his throat, spurred on as he was by Simon’s near-incoherent stream of curses and praise. He lost himself in the sound of Simon’s voice, the weight of him on his tongue, the taste of him as he leaked steadily into his mouth.

After a few minutes, Jace realized that Simon was holding back, thighs trembling with the effort of keeping his hips still, one hand fisted in the sheets beside Jace’s head. Jace pulled off Simon’s cock with an audible ‘pop,’ and Simon’s whole body jerked.

Jace met his eyes. “You don’t have to be gentle with me.”

Simon opened his mouth, closed it again, stunned into silence for once.

To illustrate his point, Jace took Simon’s hand from where it was tangled in the sheets and placed it on his head. “I don’t want you to be gentle.”

“Not gentle,” Simon repeated, eyes dark and steady as his hand tightened in Jace’s hair. “I can do that.”

Jace lowered his head back to Simon’s dick, never breaking eye contact, letting the head just rest against his parted lips. Simon gave a shallow, experimental thrust, and Jace moaned around him, relaxing his throat so he could take him deeper. Simon thrust again, and Jace let his eyes flutter closed as Simon began to fuck his mouth in earnest.

“Fuck,” Simon panted. “Do you even know…know what you look like right now? Like, you’re always hot, but this is just…fuck. Wish you could see yourself. Wish I could have you like this all the time, except…except I’m definitely not going to last that long, and you’re just. Fuck, Jace, you’re perfect.”

Jace would have been embarrassed by the noise he made at Simon’s words, except that Simon seemed very into it, thrusts picking up speed as he continued in a broken voice, “Oh god, you— So good. I can’t— Shit. Your mouth—”

With a half-voiced gasp that might have been Jace’s name, Simon thrust deep one last time and came in hot spurts down Jace’s throat. Jace swallowed it all, dizzy from arousal and lack of air. He didn’t think he’d ever been this turned on in his life.

And then Simon was tugging Jace up by his hair, kissing him hard and deep like he couldn’t get enough of the taste of himself in Jace’s mouth.

“Perfect,” Simon repeated as his hand closed around Jace’s cock, and all Jace could do was hold onto him and make desperate noises that he would absolutely deny later into Simon’s mouth as Simon expertly jerked him off. It would have been embarrassing how quickly he came, except that Jace was beyond embarrassment, beyond anything but the feel of Simon’s hand, his body, his mouth.

After, they lay together a while longer, exchanging lazy kisses until it became so much that Jace had to pull away. He couldn’t let himself get used to this.

Simon watched him, that tiny thoughtful furrow that Jace found so endearing forming between his brows. When he opened his mouth to speak, Jace cut him off.

“I was thinking, if we order Chinese now, we’ll have just enough time to wash up before it gets here. And after, I want to ride you until you can’t remember anything but my name.”

“I…” Simon blinked at him. “I think I am literally incapable of turning that down.”

“Cool.” Jace rolled off the bed, refusing to look back at Simon, all sex-tousled and sweaty in his bed. “I’ll grab the takeout menu.”

~~~

The Hunter’s Moon was busy for a Tuesday night. Not packed like it would be on the weekend, but definitely more than the usual crowd. Rock Solid Panda wasn’t a big enough name to draw a huge audience, but it was clear they were finally starting to make a name for themselves. It probably helped that they’d finally decided on and stuck with a name for more than two gigs.

Maia was working tonight, and Jace joined Lily and Bat at the bar so they could chat with her when she wasn’t too busy with other customers. It was the first time they’d all hung out together since they got back from break, and Jace had been both looking forward to and dreading the show. Looking forward to it because, despite anything he might say to the contrary, he’d actually kind of missed his friends. Dreading it because his friends knew him, knew Simon, and he really didn’t want to have the conversation he knew would happen if they figured out he and Simon were sleeping together. He wasn’t sure which would be worse, them making the same assumption they had in the coffee shop, that he and Simon were actually together, or them recognizing what was actually going on and knowing that Simon could so much better than Jace, realizing that Jace was willing to take whatever Simon would give him.

“You starting with beer or vodka tonight?” Maia asked as he slid onto a stool.

“Beer,” Jace answered. “I’ve got eight a.m. Latin this semester.”

“I don’t know what’s worse,” Lily told him, “that you insist on studying a dead language for fun, that you’re willing to be in class at eight in the morning to do it, or that you’re letting it keep you from getting properly drunk at your best friend’s show.”

“I took Latin in high school, and it just makes sense to stick with it for my language requirement, and Simon isn’t my best friend.”

“Oh, sorry,” Lily said, “your fake boyfriend’s show. Speaking of, seems like none of us has won that bet, yet. I’m impressed.” She looked up at Maia, who set a frothing pint in front of Jace. “Unless you’ve been holding out on us, Roberts.”

“Nope,” Maia said, shaking her head. “They both made it through the entire break without my assistance.”

“We’re proud of you, buddy,” Bat said, patting his shoulder.

“Oh, fuck off,” Jace said. “We were fine. Minimal family drama, and Simon charmed the hell out of my entire family.”

Maia’s eyebrows climbed almost to her hairline. “Even Maryse?” She’d never actually met Jace’s adoptive mother, but she’d heard more than her share of stories.

“Even Maryse,” Jace confirmed. “I think starting dating again has mellowed her out a little.”

At Lily’s prompting, Jace gave an abbreviated—and entirely sanitized—rundown of his visit home. Maia gave him an odd look when he mentioned Magnus’s party, but she didn’t say anything. Jace brushed it off, but it left him with an unsettled feeling.

“Hey, you,” Maia said to someone behind them just as Jace was finishing up his story.

“Hey,” Simon said. Jace could hear the smile in his voice even before he spun around to face him. “We just finished setting up and wanted to come say hi before we start our set. Becky says ‘hi back,’ by the way,” he told Maia.

“Did she say anything else?” Maia asked hopefully.

“Nope,” Simon said. “Well, she told me to stop being dumb when I suggested she, you know, actually talk to you. You guys know that’s an option, right? Talking to each other directly?”

Maia ignored him, turning to Maureen. “Excited about the big show?”

“Holy shit, you guys,” Maureen said, her own smile tempered by just a hint of panic, “there are so many people here.”

“Yeah, because you guys are awesome,” Maia said. “Seriously, you deserve this.”

“It’s true,” Lily said. “I don’t even like indie rock normally, but you guys are alright.”

“Ooh, ‘alright,’” Simon repeated archly. “High praise from the great Lily Chen.”

“And you better bask in it,” Lily told him. “It’s a shame you didn’t get here a little sooner. You just missed Jace telling us all about your New Year’s adventure.”

Simon’s eyebrows shot up. “Wh-what?” He threw a panicked look at Jace, who could only give a tiny head shake.

“Yeah,” Bat said. “We heard you got your ass kicked at Land Mines.”

“We lost by one shot!” Simon protested, visibly relaxing despite his scowl.

“Close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades,” Jace told him, smirking.

“Really,” Simon said, turning to look at Jace with a calm intensity that Jace had gotten to know very well over the past several days, one that had his dick twitching with interest. “I’ll remember that.”

“Let me know if you need a reminder,” Jace said, leaning back against the bar. He saw Simon’s eyes flick to his collarbone, where the fading mark he’d left was just visible above the open collar of Jace’s shirt. It was light enough now that no one looking at it would know what it was at a glance, but Jace knew. And more importantly, Simon knew.

“I don’t think I’m the one who needs a reminder,” Simon said, and Jace had to actively suppress a shiver.

“Anyway,” Maureen said pointedly, giving them both a dubious look, “we should probably get back on stage. We’re on in five minutes.”

“Right,” Simon said, tearing his gaze away from Jace. “Playing music. That thing that we’re doing in front of, wow, so many people.” His grin was back as he looked at Maureen. “Holy shit.”

“Holy shit!” she agreed, pulling him toward the stage.

“I’d ask what that was about,” Lily said, “but I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know.”

“No idea what you’re talking about,” Jace said, sipping his beer nonchalantly.

“Wow,” Bat said. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re kind of a shitty liar?”

“If Jace had to explain every time he did something weird, he’d never stop talking,” Maia said, and Jace wasn’t sure whether to be offended or grateful. He was saved from having to decide by Simon stepping up to the mic and introducing the band.

Rock Solid Panda’s set was mostly music Jace knew, mostly their early songs with a few covers thrown in. As they played, Jace found himself paying less attention to the music and more to the way Simon’s hands moved as he played, the way he lost himself in the music. It wasn’t the first time Jace had found himself watching Simon, but it was the first time he let himself keep doing it.

“So, this last song is new,” Simon said. Over the course of their set, the crowd had gone quiet. “I just finished writing it a few days ago, and we’ve only played it a couple times in practice, so it might be a little rough. But, um. Well, I hope you like it. This one’s called Random Afternoon.”

As Simon plucked out the opening notes, Jace recognized it as something he’d heard vague snippets of over the past couple weeks, just the guitar line as Simon worked through it in his room. This was the first time he’d heard any of the lyrics, though.

It was a love song. Melodic and melancholic, it spoke of a love that didn’t sweep you off your feet but bloomed in a thousand tiny, mundane moments. A love that started as the faintest flicker and grew to a consuming inferno before you realized you were in danger of getting burned. A love that was wholly unrequited, because those moments didn’t mean the same thing to them as they did to you.

Jace drained the last of his beer, trying to settle the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. It wasn’t jealousy. He didn’t get jealous. It was just a song, and he and Simon weren’t even together really, so even if Simon was harboring feelings for someone he couldn’t have, it wasn’t any of Jace’s business.

He turned to the bar, intending to ask for another drink—something stronger this time, maybe—only to find Maia already there, sliding a glass of water over to him. He raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Don’t be stupid,” she told him, shaking her head like she knew exactly what he was thinking. Maybe she did. She was the only person he’d ever talked to about…any of this. But at least last time she’d given him tequila.

He looked back to the stage, sipping his water and wishing he’d insisted on tequila.

~~~

“Thanks for staying and helping us get all the equipment loaded back in the van,” Simon said when they got back to the apartment several hours later. “You didn’t have to, and I know you’ve got early class tomorrow.”

“It was wholly self-serving,” Jace told him. He still felt unsettled and far too sober. “You would have woken me up when you got home, anyway, and it would have taken you longer without my help.”

“Well, whatever your reasons, I appreciate it,” Simon said. “I still can’t believe so many people showed up.”

“I can,” Jace said, shrugging out of his jacket and tossing it over the back of the couch. “You played a good show.”

“You really think so?” Simon looked genuinely surprised, and it only added to Jace’s feeling of disquiet.

“Yeah,” Jace said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. It should have been. Maybe he wasn’t as effusive in his praise as Bat or Maia, but he’d been to basically all of Rock Solid Panda’s shows over the past two years. “You put a lot of yourself into your music.”

As soon as the words were out of Jace’s mouth, he was thinking of the new song Simon had played. Maybe he’d been thinking about it the whole time. From the way Simon froze, Jace knew he’d hit a nerve.

“Sometimes,” Simon said. “But not always,” he added quickly. “Sometimes, I write songs about, like, random thoughts that come into my head, or stuff that’s happened to other people, or, you know, Maureen and I even collaborate on writing sometimes, so some of the songs are hers.” Simon was babbling. He was kind of a terrible liar.

“It was a compliment,” Jace said with an amusement he didn’t feel. “You should learn how to take one.”

“Oh,” Simon said. “Right.” He forced a smile that almost looked genuine. “Thank you.”

Jace shook his head. “I give that a C-plus at best. Come on, you can do better than that.”

“You know what?” Simon said, raising his chin. “I take it back. I shouldn’t be thanking you, because Rock Solid Panda is awesome, and our music is awesome, and you should be complimenting us, like, all the time.”

“That’s more like it,” Jace said, grinning.

“No, now I just sound like you,” Simon said, shaking his head.

“Exactly.” Because I’m awesome and people should be complimenting me all the time.”

Simon gave him an unimpressed look. “Remind me why I’m friends with you again?”

“We literally just went over this,” Jace said, lounging against the wall. “Because I’m awesome and people should—”

“Oh my god, stop talking,” Simon said, but he was obviously fighting back a smile now. “Seriously.”

“You going to make me?” Jace challenged, and this was probably the kind of thing Maia meant when she told him not to be stupid, because he knew now that Simon was in love with someone else. Or hung up on someone, anyway. And Jace was at least honest enough with himself to know that he was just asking to get hurt if he kept having sex with a guy he was maybe into as more than just a friend with benefits who didn’t feel the same way about him.

He was also honest enough with himself to know he was going to do it, anyway.

Simon shook his head. “Nope. That’ll just encourage you.”

“See, you say that.” Jace stretched his arms above his head, very deliberately arching his back and making his shirt ride up to reveal a sliver of skin above the waistband of his jeans. “But this is totally doing it for you.”

“I really kind of hate you sometimes,” Simon said without heat before stalking over and pinning Jace’s still-raised wrists to the wall above his head.

“Oh yeah?” Jace said, rolling his hips shamelessly against Simon’s. “Why don’t you show me how much?”

The kiss was hard and bruising, Simon’s body pressing him into the wall like he was trying to erase every millimeter of space between them. Jace kissed back just as hard, exerting just enough pressure with his arms to make a show of protest, but not nearly enough to break Simon’s hold. Maybe he’d never be the kind of guy Simon wrote love songs about, but like this, he knew what Simon wanted, what he liked, and he planned to give it to him.

They were both breathing hard when Simon broke the kiss to say, “Bedroom, now.”

“Yeah,” Jace agreed, a little dazed.

“Mine, not yours,” Simon added seriously. “I want you in my bed.” He put just a little more pressure on Jace’s wrists before releasing them entirely.

Jace felt like all the air had been punched out of his lungs. They hadn’t actually done anything in Simon’s room. They mostly ended up in Jace’s room, or on the couch, and there had been that one time in the bathroom when they had decisively concluded their shower was not big enough for anything other than getting clean. But never in Simon’s room, and the idea that he wanted Jace there, in his bed, made something inside Jace tremble.

Simon didn’t give him time to dwell on it, kissing him again before turning to walk down the hall toward his room, expecting Jace to follow. Knowing Jace would, probably, because somewhere along the line Jace had apparently lost any ability he once had to say no to Simon.

As soon as he made it to the bedroom, Simon was kissing him again, deep and filthy and full of promise as he quickly and efficiently divested Jace of his shirt and pants.

“Eager,” Jace observed as he kicked free of the pants that had pooled around his ankles, leaving him in nothing but a pair of black boxer-briefs.

“You wanted me to show you how much I hate you,” Simon said. His smile and tone were teasing, but there was something else in his eyes that Jace couldn’t quite identify. “So that’s what I’m doing. Get on the bed.”

Jace made a show of stretching out on the bed, reveling in how Simon followed his every move with his eyes.

“You just planning to look?” he asked when Simon made no move to follow him.

“You kinda deserve it,” Simon said, pulling off his own shirt. “But no.” He kicked off his pants and crawled up the bed until they were face to face, his knees bracketing Jace’s hips. “Because you’re right. This totally does it for me.”

He leaned down to bring their mouths together, and it was slow and gentle in a way Jace wasn’t expecting, wasn’t prepared for, and he felt like he was being unraveled by it, all the loose threads that made up the tangled mess that was Jace being pulled apart by Simon’s lips and tongue and breath.

“Here’s how this is going to go,” Simon told him, mouthing along the skin of his jaw. He took one of Jace’s hands and wrapped his fingers around the slats of the headboard, then did the same with the other hand. “You’re going to keep your hands right here like this, and I’m going to fuck you, and you’re going to take it.”

As close as they were, there was no hiding Jace’s full-body shiver at Simon’s words, no hiding just how much he wanted, but he still put on a cocky smile and gave his best shot at seeming unaffected. “Bossy. What makes you think I’m just going to go along with it?”

“Because you like me bossy,” Simon said, running his hands up Jace’s arms from his shoulders to where his hands still gripped the headboard and grinning down at him. “This is totally doing it for you.”

Jace’s denial was cut off by Simon reaching a hand down to cup his cock through his underwear, thumb dragging across fabric wet with pre-come. Jace bucked up into the touch, gasping. His hands stayed where they were.

Simon’s grin was smug as he hooked his fingers in the waistband of Jace’s boxer-briefs and pulled them down and off in a single motion. Jace made a soft noise—half relief, half impatience—as his cock sprang free from its confines to lie hard and leaking against his abdomen.

Simon’s smugness turned to something almost like awe as he sat back on his heels and just looked, and Jace started to feel that unraveling sensation again even as his cock twitched under the weight of Simon’s appreciation.

Jace licked his lips. “If you want me to take it, you’re going to have to give it to me.”

“I’d tell you to be patient, but I know that’s a lost cause,” Simon said, reaching over to grab condoms and lube from his nightstand. This meant leaning over Jace, close enough that Jace could feel the heat of Simon’s body, but still not quite touching. Until Jace rocked his hips up, rutting against Simon’s hip for the few glorious seconds it took Simon to pull back.

Simon sat back on his heels once again, his free hand moving to Jace’s hip and pressing it firmly into the mattress as he gave him an unimpressed look.

Jace smirked back. “I wouldn’t need to be patient if you weren’t taking your damn time about it.”

“You say things like that,” Simon said, uncapping the lube, “but I don’t think you’ve really considered the full implications of what you’re asking for.” He poured some lube out into his palm, coating his hand, before moving the bottle to spill directly onto Jace’s dick.

“Fuck, fuck.” Jace arched off the bed from the unexpected cold, and before he could even find the words to tell Simon what an absolute asshole he was, the cold was replaced with the heat and delicious pressure of Simon’s hand.

“And anyway,” Simon said, continuing to stroke Jace’s cock with one hand while the lube-slick fingers of his other hands circled Jace’s hole, “this is supposed to be about how much I hate you.” He pressed one finger just inside, teasing Jace’s rim. “So I’m going to take exactly as long as I want to.”

Then that finger slid all the way in, and for a while Jace’s entire world narrowed down to the feel of Simon’s fingers—around him, inside him—and the sound of Simon’s voice, teasing and praising in turn.

“God, look at you.” Simon had three fingers inside him, and Jace had long since lost the ability to form coherent words. Or do anything, really, besides cling to the headboard and writhe under Simon’s touch.

“You’re so hot like this.” He curled his fingers, stroking over Jace’s prostate for what must have been the hundredth time. “And everyone thinks they know how hot you are, but they don’t because most of them haven’t seen you like this, and that’s almost a kind of tragedy except that I do get to see you like this.” He sounded almost as wrecked as Jace felt. “I get to make you like this.”

“Simon,” Jace gasped, and he wasn’t sure whether it was Simon’s words or the curl of his fingers that brought him there.

“Okay,” Simon breathed. “Okay, yeah.” And then Simon was taking his hands away and Jace let out a desperate whine because Simon going away was the last thing he wanted.

“Shh,” Simon soothed as he tugged off his own underwear and fumbled open the condom wrapper. “I’m not going anywhere.” He dropped a quick kiss on Jace’s knee, then leaned back again so he could roll the condom on and slick up his cock. “I promise.”

“Don’t want promises,” Jace said, managing to drag the words out from somewhere. “Just want you in me already.”

Simon let out a faint growl, and then he was hooking Jace’s knees over his shoulders, pinning Jace to the bed with his own body, pushing into him in a single, relentless stroke.

“This what you wanted?” Simon asked when his hips sat flush against Jace’s ass.

It was. God, it was.

“Want you to move,” Jace said.

Simon did, fucking Jace like he wanted to break him, kissing him like he wanted to own him. It was everything, and Jace took it. Because Simon told him to. Because he wanted to.

“Feels so good,” Simon panted. “God, Jace, I just—”

He reached a hand between them to wrap around Jace’s cock, stroking in time with his thrusts, and Jace keened.

“Come for me,” Simon said. “I want to feel you come for me, baby.”

Jace didn’t know whether it was the command or the endearment that pushed him over the edge, but he was shaking apart with Simon’s next upstroke, spilling between their bodies as Simon swallowed the desperate sounds of his release. Simon fucked him through it, not slowing until Jace was trembling on the edge of overstimulation.

“Don’t stop,” Jace told him. “I can take it.”

“Jace—” Simon’s voice was wary, but Jace could feel how much he wanted in the way his body trembled, the way his hips never quite stopped moving.

“Want you to come with your dick inside me,” Jace said, locking his ankles around Simon’s back. “Please.”

“Fuck,” Simon swore as he started moving in earnest again. “How are you even real?”

Jace wanted to respond with something pithy and clever, but he’d lost all capacity for words, for thought as Simon fucked into him, chasing his own pleasure. It teetered on the edge of too much, would be too much if Jace let it, and all he had it in him to do was hang on until finally Simon’s hips lost their rhythm and Jace felt his dick pulsing inside him as he whispered nonsensical words of affection into the skin of Jace’s shoulder.

They lay like that for what felt like an eternity, yet still not enough time at all, until Simon finally sighed and pulled his softening cock out to deal with the condom. He looked at Jace as he tied it off and tossed it in the trash.

“You can let go now,” Simon told him. When Jace just frowned in confusion, he leaned over and tapped Jace’s biceps, grinning.

Jace felt himself flush as he uncurled his fingers from the headboard and lowered his arms, rolling his shoulders to ease the faint ache. He’d forgotten he was even still holding on. He wracked his brain for something to say, anything that would save him from having to think about how easy it had been to do what Simon told him to do, how much he’d wanted to.

“So, you hate me that much, huh?”

Simon’s bark of laughter was incredulous. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, exactly that much.” There was that look in his eyes again, the one Jace couldn’t place, but Simon tore his gaze away before he could tease it out.

“You could stay in here tonight,” Simon said with deliberate casualness, and Jace felt his heart stutter in his chest. “You know, if you want.”

He wanted it so much it was almost a physical ache.

“I’ve got early class,” he said instead. He was keenly aware of all those loose threads Simon had inadvertently spent the last couple hours pulling apart, ready to unravel him completely with just the right tug. He rolled out of Simon’s bed. “I’m just going to take a quick shower and head to bed.”

“Sure,” Simon said. “Of course. That makes total sense. Um. Sleep well.”

“Yeah, you too,” Jace said, grabbing his clothes from the floor as an excuse not to look at Simon. He knew he wouldn’t be able to say no if Simon asked again.

Simon didn’t.

#shadowhunters #shmb2021 #jimon #jimon fic #jace wayland #simon lewis

[arigatouiris]

chasing lights // tsukishima kei x reader

Author’s Note: My country’s been on lockdown for close to a month now and my mind is fried. I haven’t been productive, anxiety has been off the charts so I started watching Haikyuu to ease the tension in my head. Also, the fact that I haven’t been active on tumblr makes me sad, but help a writer out a bit and tell me what you think? You have no idea how strong your comments are. Thanks ya’ll. 

Word count: 2598

Pairing: (soft?) Tsukishima Kei x Reader

Warnings: slight angst to fluff, angsty thoughts, mentions of insecurity

There wasn’t a lot of things Tsukishima Kei regretted in his life. 

Maybe, he sometimes regretted the repressed anger he sometimes showed towards his brother, and sometimes he regretted snapping at his friends (or Tadashi, because let’s face it, he doesn’t easily consider a lot of people his friends). However, one of the biggest things Tsukishima Kei regretted just before entering high school was rejecting your confession.

It had been an entire semester post your final year at middle school. You were close friends with Tadashi, and since it had been a whole year being friends with him, you were introduced to his rather cold and standoffish friend, Kei, in your second year of middle school. You immediately took a liking to this boy, who seemed a challenge in your eyes, not backing down with how unapologetically original he seemed to be. Tsukishima Kei was one of those people you wouldn’t worry about lying to you, because he just didn’t do that sort of thing. 

But, seems like you misstepped when your confession reached the hard end of the stick. Your eyes were wide as Tsukishima clicked his tongue and called it almost moronic to have feelings for someone who doesn’t feel the same. He didn’t explicitly say he didn’t like you back, but ridiculed the entire ordeal of it. 

     “I can’t believe... No, as a matter of fact, I can believe that you’d say something like this, Tsukki.” 

Your words haunt him till date. 

He was now in High School, and as fate would allow it (or punish him, for that matter), you were there too. Tadashi never spoke a word in edgewise at how ruined your relationship was with Tsukishima, but left matters to how they should be. 

The fact of the matter was this and it was fairly simple: Tsukishima Kei was borderline obsessed with you. 

It might have had to do with how simple you were yet how elegantly you carried that simplicity. You were openly friendly where he was not, ready to smile, accept a challenge, soft and gentle yet bold and confident in so many ways that it drove him insane when he realized that just thinking of you is enough to pass the time. You were on his mind when he listened to music, or went on walks and Tsukishima would be lying if he didn’t have at least four playlists dedicated to you, each assorted according to the season. 

He even remembered the scent of your hair—that gloriously sweet fig and honey essence from your shampoo. He had no idea what it was, but he remembered calling you out on it. He remembered being so accurate that you called him a creep. He was beaming with pride on the inside, but you would never know. 

Now, one can wonder why Tsukishima turned you down even though he felt this way about you. 

He wondered that and regretted that same detail over and over again. He watched you sometimes, heading to the library with your friends, eating lunch with them, rushing to the vending machine during breaks, reading a book and yawning thinking no one else was looking, almost drifting off to sleep in class—every little detail that you believed no one noticed, Tsukishima did, and god, you broke his heart without even trying.

In many bittersweet ways, he knew he didn’t deserve you. You were beautiful; and it wasn’t just superficial beauty, you were so kind, you were a wonder to both Tadashi and himself—having entered their lives randomly. He would be forever grateful to Tadashi for introducing him to you, but such words couldn’t be spoken because you were someone who needed to face a light brighter than him. 

But it was until high school did he realize that there was one such light. And it scared him to no end that maybe, just maybe, you’d find that burning brighter instead.

*

You would be lying if you said you were over Tsukishima Kei, the boy that broke your heart so devastatingly back in middle school. You still spoke to Tadashi and often asked him about the blond boy, but that was perhaps all you were allowed to ask—you couldn’t ask for more. 

Tadashi could see how much it hurt you to even talk about Kei, but you did, you endured because every inch of you genuinely cared for him—you saw how troubled he was over a few things that he thought you didn’t know; you saw how much thought he put into practice, and you knew how much it shattered him to learn the truth of his brother. Tadashi offered to lend you a comforting shoulder to cry on, but you were not the sort to spill your emotions for self-gratification. You carried them because you did not regret them, and that was perhaps the biggest difference between you and Tsukishima. 

You were lost in thought one day when you bumped into Kei in the corridor. You gasped before letting out a meek sounding apology, battling within yourself over whether you make small talk or not. He probably hates small talk, you told yourself before scooting over and walking past him, not noticing how he was as still as a rock just where he stood. Looking down at your feet, you felt tears well up in your eyes from the pent-up frustration over how ruined things were with your crush and your old friend (who happened to be the same person), but a thud sound caught your ear.

You paused before turning to your right and noticing a small boy, your age perhaps but considerably short compared to a few boys you knew, bouncing a ball against the wall repeatedly. He had bright orange hair and his eyes were dead fixed at the ball, conviction screaming from his fingers and his aura, this boy wasn’t going to be distracted even if a meteor was crashing to the earth. Your lips parted a bit, fascinated at how he kept going—wasn’t it a break right now? What was he even trying to do? Isn’t volleyball a team game? What’s he doing practicing on his own? 

Does Tsukki know him—

You snapped out of your thoughts before rushing to class, unaware that Tsukishima had witnessed this entire ordeal. He would never admit it in a million years but his heart shattered at the sight of your mesmerised gaze at Hinata, the light he was so scared of losing you to. And now—it was actually happening right before his eyes.

He clicked his tongue and walked to class. 

The next day, you spotted the orange haired kid again, doing the same thing. You heard from Tadashi that your team had moved on to the Spring Tournament, something you were a tad bit ashamed you didn’t know on your own, but you tended to stray away from all things Volleyball because of a certain someone. You noticed that this orange kid seemed a lot more exhausted, causing you to blink and look down at what you were currently holding—vanilla flavored milk. Sighing, you walked over to the boy who wasn’t taking a break and stood right behind him.

     “Excuse me—”

Screaming, he dropped the ball on his head, which went tumbling away, causing your eyes to widen with guilt for interrupting his flow. Turning to you, while rubbing the new sore spot on his head, his eyes widened and you noticed his face turned a dark shade of red. No girl had voluntarily approached him and spoken to him—his life was finally reaching a turning point!

You handed him the vanilla milk with a soft smile, “Here. You look tired.”

     “A princess!” He screeched before you giggled at his response.

     “I saw that you were practising yesterday too, on your own. I wondered why you keep doing this? You have a team to practise with, don’t you?”

He nodded before wondering whether to take the milk or not. You giggled one last time before forcing it on to his hands, recalling at last that you hadn’t introduced yourself.

     “My name’s (l/n) (y/n), I’m in Yamaguchi’s class. We used to go to the same middle school.”

     “H-Hinata S-Shoyo!” He stammered before blinking and tilting his head, “Yamaguchi-kun? That means...” His eyes narrowed, “You must know Tsukishima too then.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the mere mention of the blond’s name and you wondered yet again for how long that dinosaur loving boy would have your heart react the way it was. You hoped that your face didn’t show any discomfort, and you smiled softly before desperately wanting to change the subject.

     “I gave you the milk to drink it, Hinata-kun.”

Shoyo let out a ‘gah’ before drinking it—almost as if he were doing it for you—and in a minute looked at you again. 

     “Why did you give this to me?”

You blinked, unsure of why yourself. There was something about Hinata that caught your eye, something that seemed...ethereal. Perhaps, it was because he was working on something he really loved, and he was doing it openly—unashamed of it, and how he contrasted the same love for the sport that Tsukishima seemed to have. Hinata was also shorter, much more cheerful, openly energetic and suddenly, your eyes widened.

You couldn’t be that shallow, right? 

Was your mind trying to compare Hinata to Tsukishima? Just so that you’d see that the difference was extreme? That you really weren’t missing out on anything? 

Hinata’s eyes shone like fire orbs while Tsukishima’s had a coldness to them that you thought you could penetrate with time. 

You could only smile at Hinata and say one thing, “You were shining too brightly.”

But deep in your heart, you knew what you were doing.

*

Tadashi and Tsukishima both witnessed your interaction with Hinata, but before Yamaguchi even could say a word, Tsukishima walked away. He didn’t want to get in between the both of you, but it was clearly only one person’s fault in this entire ordeal and whether it was cowardice or not, whether it was shame or something else, Kei was the one who needed to step up and take action. 

Tadashi could understand that sometimes, people wouldn’t know what to do. But, if Kei really wanted you to understand him better, which Tadashi knew he did, then he had to step up. 

Kei, on the other hand, was visibly seething. It wasn’t just the idea behind their names that bothered him, it was the contrasting personalities. It was how Kei knew deep down that you deserved someone who wasn’t so reserved, that you deserved someone who could unashamedly tell you what they think, instead of covering it up with layers and layers or rude comments or sarcasm. If this wasn’t cowardice, Kei didn’t understand what it could be. Hinata was bolder where Kei wasn’t and that was who he envisioned beside you. And even though Kei wanted to hold your hand and kiss you more than anything else, the truth was staring at him right in the eye.

At times he felt that he had almost rather not be in love with you, for it brought him no peace. What was the use of it, if it was only going to be painful?

And that was when he thought of it. He was going to tell you. He was going to tell you the next time fate decided to have your path cross his. He was going to blurt out everything that he thought of you, whether or not you’d accept his feelings, despite the shortcomings, despite the lack of conviction, despite not being Hinata. He was going to tell you he’s always been in love with you, as Tsukishima Kei, and see what you had to say.

Yet, fate didn’t see that happening any time soon. Weeks passed, and December was coming closer and closer. He was selected for a 5-day training camp, yet there was no sign of fate even attempting to pin you toward him. He knew this was merely an excuse; he knew that putting this on fate meant that he was, in a way, running away from it. He noticed that you were on a first name basis with Hinata and that angered him. He noticed how you’d wave at the orange haired munchkin every time you pass him by, and how you’d divert your eyes away from Kei’s whenever you even came close. 

Perhaps, what really drove him to the edge was one small incident. It was something Kei believed he was the only one allowed to know. 

     “Your hair smells like... honey?”

Before you could say anything, Kei’s voice reached out louder than you’ve ever heard him be.

     “(y/n)!” 

He wasn’t too far behind, and it was very, very unlike him to yell out your first name when he hasn’t even spoken to you properly in close to a year. Your eyes widen as your gaze lands on Tsukishima’s, Hinata was baffled as well but was quiet for his own reasons, and you could feel your insides shaking.

     “Tsukishima-kun?” 

He hated it. He hated how he had suddenly fallen from being ‘Tsukki’ to a name that reminded him of how close you were with Hinata, no, Shoyo-kun instead.

     “I need to talk to you.”

His words were convincing enough, and you quickly followed him. No one else paid any attention to the weird interaction, lunch breaks were fairly noisier than Tsukishima calling out your name by standing just five feet away from you.

     “Tsukishima—”

When he decided you two were alone enough, he turned and looked down at you, a scowl plastered on his face. You knew that this was sometimes a default expression, but it’s been months and you didn’t want the boy you were so helplessly in love with to look at you like you were trash.

But then, something miraculous happened. His expression waned and you could see a hurt look sit on his features, his hand reached out to you, almost hesitant, and touched the tip of your fingers. He took a deep breath and you almost smelt it. 

The thought you had when you first met Shoyo. Of their names contrasting. Tsukishima didn’t have to say a word.

     “I’m afraid...” He let out, gulping. “I’m afraid I can’t catch up.”

To what?

Shoyo.

Oh.

You looked up at him and wondered if this was why. If this was why he had turned you down, if this was what was haunting him then was he really, really so hellbent on punishing himself as if no one else noticed?

     “I think,” Your hands wound around the fingers close to you. “I like this light better.”

Tsukishima hated the way you always caught his breath the way you did. He hated how accurately placed your emotions were, he hated the way you felt, he hated how good your shampoo smelled and what he hated the most out of everything was how he desperately needed your affection. 

He craved it, all for himself. You were made for him, and that was how he saw it and as cheesy as these thoughts were, it was a balance he was yearning for and he saw it all in you.

     “Tsukki,” Ah, you were going to kill him one day. “Please, don’t push me away?”

A question. 

He sighed. He looked at your linked hands. Stepping forward, his lips ghosted over your forehead before placing a soft kiss there, feeling the back of his eyelids burn as he shut his eyes.

Fig and honey. 

     “I don’t think that’s possible now.”

#tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei #tsukki #tsukki x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #hinata shoyo #tadashi yamaguchi #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #tsukishima #kei tsukishima #kei tsukishima x reader #reader insert

[show-choir-gal]

"Smart Talk" Zach Dempsey Imagine

Requested by anon on Tumblr: "Hellooo c: could you write a fic on zach dempsey from 13 reasons why? Specifically the reader being a biology nerd and has aspirations of becoming a doctor some day, and zach being interested in her because he wants to be a marine biologist? Thanks! Love your blog btw ^^"

A/N: Heyo! I just wanted to pop in and see how y'all were doing and to say that I kind of switched it up and made the reader want to be a biochemist when she graduated so I hope you don't mind that little change! I cried writing this, so I’m sorry if you cry too

Warnings: mentions of death due to disease, absolutely sad backstory about a father with ALS

Word Count: 6,624

Guide: Y/N - Your Name Y/L/N - Your Last Name

Masterlist of Mastelists

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

The first day of school was always filled with nerves and excitement. But I am new, and a sophomore and that didn't make this transfer any easier. I had moved away from Ohio with my mum at the beginning of the summer, my father passed away after a long and tough battle with ALS. I'm 16 now, he was diagnosed when I just about turned 10. He always wanted to live in California, it was his dream to have a beach house with just the three of us. I was always his little girl. Even when his ALS progressed, he was always working so hard to stay as long as he could. He was such a fighter. Mum and him worked hard on finding a house in California before he would pass, get to live out his dream. We had found a house, the house mum and I now live in, a year ago but had to finalise the selling of our other house before we could move. But that hope soon cam tumbling down due to my father quickly getting worse. We were so close to moving, but it got put on hold. He was deteriorating faster than ever before and it was hard to watch the fighter I once knew look so defeated. Before he lost the ability to speak he told us, "Well if Stephen Hawking can do it, so can I." He was always so strong in front of me and mum, but we knew better. Every day after school I went to my dads hospital room and told him about my day and school and do my homework with him. I came in one day, a big smile on my face as I looked him in the eye and said, "I know what I want to be when I grow up dad. I want to be a Biochemist. I want to make medicine that will help you and the others that come after you. I want to do this for you dad." He smiled as best as he could and got out a shaky, "I love you so much", and then he couldn't speak after that. As days turned to weeks, he just got worse and worse. We had the hope that he could wait until after Christmas, but there were no Christmas miracles this time. He passed away the day before Christmas eve, and I was heartbroken. My dad, my biggest supporter was now gone. Gone but never forgotten. I held his cold hand before the coroner and doctors shuffled him away from us and said through broken sobs and tear stained cheeks, "I'm going to make a medicine that cures ALS. I'm going to make it for you, daddy. I love you so much." I finished the rest of the year and we finalised the selling of our, now old, house and we made the flight to California. A few weeks in and we were finally settling and making this house our new home. I sat out on our enclosed balcony with a cup of tea and cozied up in my hammock chair. I listened to the birds chirping as I took a sip of my tea. My mum came out a few moments later with her own cup of tea and we both stared upon the city for what seemed like an eternity until I decided to break the silence, "Dad would've loved it here." "Yes he would've sweetheart. Yes he would."

Mum drove me in for the first day, mainly because she wanted to pick me up especially if I had a rough first day. We had our usual conversations and I went over my schedule out loud with her. "Honours Chemistry AND Honours Biology huh? Why didn't you get put in the AP sections of those?" Mum asked, noticeably a little insulted that I wasn't placed in the AP classes. "Relax mum, they don't allow sophomores taking AP classes, and this was the best I was getting with them. I could've gotten regular Bio and Chem." I reassured her. She reluctantly calmed down as she pulled up to a parking spot in front of the school. Mum kissed me on the cheek and said our 'I love you's' as I got out of the car and headed up to the front of the building. I tried to blend in and just seem normal. My first class was English so I immediately made my way to the classroom located in the second floor. I sat in the front row like I always had in my previous schools. The teacher went through attendance and stopped on me, "Y/N Y/L/N? Are you the new student?" The teacher asked. "Yes I am ma'am" I replied, all eyes on me. "I was wondering if you would be here today! Please come up in front of the class and introduce yourself! Say your name, where you moved from, and your favourite book." I made quickly got up and walked the short distance to be next to the teacher. "Well, I'm Y/N. I moved here from a small town in Ohio at the beginning of the summer, and my favourite book is The Theory of Everything by Famous theoretical physicist, cosmologist Stephen Hawking." I said to the class with a smile. "That's interesting Miss Y/L/N! And why is that your favourite book?" "I look up to Mr.Hawkings work and I want to be a Biochemist." "That's quite interesting. You may sit down now dear." She said with a smile as she started to clap, the rest of the class followed suit. I sat down and the girl next to me tapped my shoulder, "Nice to meet you. I'm Jessica. I think we could be great friends!" She said with a smile on her face. We talked after class and she said she would meet me after my Bio class to have lunch with me. I'm so relieved to have a friend, or someone I can consider a friend at least. It's still early to tell. Next up I had maths, and pretty much the same thing happened with going in front of the class and explaining who I was. I was pretty much creating and reading a script for the beginning of every class. After maths I had my Honours Biology class. I sat at the work bench like I normally did, as I watched all the students pour in they all looked so much older than I did. The class began at the ring of the bell and the same thing happened like all the other classes before me. I made my way up to the front of the classroom and smiled as I introduced myself, "I'm Y/N, I moved here from a small town in Ohio at the beginning of the summer and I'm a sophomore. An-" "A sophomore? I don't normally have sophomores in my class." The teacher interrupted me, and I just gave an "are you serious?" look and some of the class laughed. "Yes, the school wouldn't let me take AP Biology and AP Chemistry so I had to even fight to get honours." I replied. "AP Bio and AP Chem? What would you want with those courses? They're pretty difficult on their own, let alone together." I cleared my throat, "I want to be a Biochemist." "And where would your concentration lie?" "Degenerative diseases." "Wow that's incredible Miss Y/L/N! I look forward to seeing your work. You may sit down." I took my seat and a few of the "nerdy" kids started to chat me up and we all had a great conversation about what we wanted to do in the future. The bell rang and almost immediately Jessica was outside my classroom waiting for me. "Honours Biology? Girl, you've got to give me your study tips!" We walked to the lunchroom as she talked my ear off about the school and everything I would need to know. We sat down at a table and a boy joined us, him and Jess kissed and then a bunch of other guys started to swarm the table we were at. "Y/N this is Justin, my boyfriend! Justin this is-" "You're Y/N! We have maths together." Justin said as he stuck his hand out. Justin started to introduce me to all the boys at the table, all his teammates on the basketball team. "Y/N why did you move here all the way from uhm..." Jess started to ask. "Ohio." I replied with a chuckle. "Right! Why did you move here from Ohio?" All eyes were on me now and I smiled just thinking of the memory of my dad, "I moved here because my dads dream was to move out to California with my mum and I." "Oh that's so sweet! Why did he want to move out here?" She asked. The smile fell from my face and just the thought started to burn my eyes, "That's a bit of a touchy subject. Can we not talk about that?" "Oh my God of course! I'm sorry, I didn't know girly." She said as she shot me a reassuring smile and rubbed my knee. Eventually I went to the rest of my classes and met some really great people. I knew I had nothing to worry about, it seems like I'll fit in perfectly. The dismissal bell rang and I made my way to my locker. I got all my stuff I needed and closed my locker, Jess was standing right next to my locker with Justin. "Did you have a good first day?" She asked. "It was great, especially because of you. Thank you for like, accepting me and being nice. And thank you as well Justin." I said with a smile. "That's great! We definitely need to keep in touch, hand me your phone and I'll give you my number so we can hang out soon!" She said enthusiastically as she took my phone from me and punched her number in. Her and Justin walked off and waved and said their goodbyes and we parted ways. I made my way to mums car. I placed my backpack in the backseat and hopped into the front and we drove off. "So..?" Mum started. "It was great! I already made a bunch of friends and they're all so nice there!" "That's awesome honey! Celebratory dinner tonight? And you can tell me absolutely everything, you can even spill all the deets!" "Ew mum, don't ever say that again!" I said as I joking slapped at her arm. "What?! I have to stay hip somehow!" We both erupted into a fit of laughter. "Oh by the way, the piano got to the house and is all tuned." Mum said, almost full of sorrow. That night we went out to a fancy restaurant a few towns over and I told her everything about my day and how excited I was for school and making new friends.

A month has passed and I've settled in quite nicely in Crestmont. It was a Friday and Jess is sleeping over for the first time. We quickly became really close friends, I even would say she is my best friend. My mum picked us up from school and I showed her around my house. "This house is so beautiful Mrs.Y/L/N!" Jess said in awe. "I'm glad you like it, you're always welcome here sweetheart!" My mum replied with a smile. Jess picked up a picture of my mum, my dad, and I when I was about 11. She examined it. "Awe Y/N you look so adorable! Is this your dad?" She asked, pointing to the man in the photograph. "Yeah, but that's an older photo of him." "Do you have any more recent photos of him?" "Of course!" I said as I lead her to the living room where a lot of the newer photos of him were. She examined them quite closely, noticing his state of being deteriorating, she was confused. I brought her out on the balcony and she sat in the hammock chair right next to mine. "Where is your dad?" She asked and then looked like she wanted to take it back. I grabbed her hand and smiled, "No no, don't worry about it. It's okay to ask!" I replied with a warm smile, "He passed away right before last Christmas. He had ALS." "Y/N I'm so sorry for your loss." "Jess it's okay. He was a great guy and a great dad." "Is this why you didn't want to talk about it on the first day?" "Yeah, it's just a touchy subject especially since we planned to move out here with him." I told her the whole story, everything. I was comfortable enough around her to tell her. And she listened and took it all in. I reassured her I was as okay as I could be even though some days were better than others and she understood. We headed up the stairs toward my room when she spotted the baby grand piano at the top of our stairs. "Wow this is beautiful! Do you play?" She asked, awestruck by the beautiful Yamaha piano in front of her. "I guess. My dad was the one who played and he gave me lessons and so now when I want to feel closer to him I just play and play until I feel okay." "You're one tough cookie, could you play something for me?" I smiled and pulled out the bench and immediately started to play Op. 28: III. Vivace G Major by Chopin as it was a relatively fast lively piece. I lifted my hands from the piano and her jaw was on the ground. "Girly I didn't know this! You NEED to play in the orchestra! They would love you!" She exclaimed as she brought me in for a hug. The night was great and I finally felt normal again, I felt like a normal high schooler with a normal life. And man did it feel good to feel normal again.

Monday rolled around and Jess dragged me down to the music hall to talk with the orchestra teacher. I played the same piece I did for Jess and the teacher looked beyond impressed with my playing. "Some of the best piano playing I've seen from a student in years! I would love to have you in the orchestra Miss Y/L/N!" Jess and I walked out of the music hall and screamed and jumped and hugged. "I'm so excited for you! I'll go to all the practices and concerts I can!" Jess promised as she stuck her pinky out "And I will go to as many cheer practices and games as I can!" I replied and interlocked our pinkies as we made a pinky promise. And both of us kept our promises. As long as I didn't have to tutor someone or practice, I was in the stands supporting my best friend, even doing her hair for her. As long as she didn't have practice or homework, she was at orchestra rehearsal.

Mid-November rolled around and so did basketball and other winter sports, but that also meant mid terms were fast approaching. In biology, we were doing a partner project and our teacher chose our partner. The rest of the class groaned, but I had gotten 100's all year so I didn't see an issue with it. He read off the names in alphabetical order by last name. "Zach Dempsey and Y/N Y/L/N" My head turned to look at Zachs face to judge how he felt, and he had a smile so wide it stretched from ear to ear, which made me smile as well as blush. After partners were announced we all moved to sit next to our partners, I got up and sat next to him. "Well look who we have here, the smartest girl in this school paired up with me." He said with a slight chuckle. "I wouldn't say I'm that smart. More like, I'm just determined to do really well...all the time." I said with a chuckle. We started to plan our project and then suddenly the bell rang. I was about to get up when Zach gently grabbed my arm, "Can I have your number? So we can plan our project?" "Oh, of course. Why didn't I think of that?" I wrote my number down on the top of his project syllabus and waved goodbye as I headed to my locker. I had one more class before I met up with Jess to do her hair before her short practice so they can get ready for the game. I had a free period next so I headed down to the music hall so I could practice. I walked by the teachers office and he ushered me in to talk to me. "Y/N, how would you feel about doing 4 solos for the concert?" He asked, not looking up from the program he was trying to make. "I would love to!" "Great! I'll have you start off the very beginning of the concert with a short but fast piece, we'll have a few group pieces and other solos and then you end the first half with another short but fast piece. Does that sound good?" He asked, I nodded. "Then you can start the second half with a long and slow piece, sprinkle in a few group pieces and a few other solos, then you'll have you last piece which is pretty slow and long as well, and then finish off with our group closing piece? Sound good?" "That sounds great sir! Can I ask one thing though?" "Of course, what's on your mind?" "Could I dedicate the last piece I play to my dad and have a picture of him with me at the concert? It's okay if not, I just figured I should ask." "Of course you can. Don't be silly to ask for something like that. The counselor told me about what happened. I'm so sorry for your loss and I would be honoured to have you dedicate your last solo to your father." He reassured with a smile. I started to leave the room, "Thank you Mr.Blanc! I'll be in the auditorium in you need me." "Y/N, just make sure to get me your sheet music with the order you're performing them in as soon as possible." "You got it!" I nearly shouted as I opened the side door to the auditorium to turn on all the stage lights. I practically came down here every free period I had unless I was working on Zach and I's project. It was always so calm and quiet and made me feel like my dad was still there with me. I made my way over to stage left and pulled the piano out into the centre of the stage. I sat down and just started to play piano covers of popular songs before I started to try figure out what I was actually playing for the concert. I just wanted to calm down from my exams I had today. I decided to just wait and ask Jess which songs I should pick before the first game of the basketball season occurred tonight. I went from Fantasie Impromptu by Chopin to Flight of the Bumblebee before I noticed anyone else was in the auditorium with me. I heard a throat clear which made me jump, I looked up from the piano and it was Jess and Justin. "I didn't mean to scare ya." Jess said with a chuckle, "Justin and I were making out in the back and you couldn't see us but Justin really wanted to watch you play especially after that really fast one." Justin nodded his head in agreement. "Aww, I'm flattered!" I said with a smile. I went down my arsenal of some of the toughest songs to play on piano, Moonlight Sonata, Little Red Riding Hood, Etude Op. 10 No. 4, La Campanella, and ending with Hungarian Rhapsody. I looked at the two who tried to keep up with my hands, Jess had a smirk on her face when she saw Justin's jaw on the floor. "I told you she was good." Jess said, almost cockily. Her and I laughed and before Justin could even say a word, the dismissal bell rang. "I'll meet you in the locker room Jess, I have to put a few things away in my locker." I waved to Justin sense I wasn't going to see him until later in the afternoon. I put my stuff in the locker and shut the door and headed downstairs, I headed toward the locker rooms where Zach caught up to me. "Good luck at the game tonight!" I said with a wide smile. "Thank you! Are you going to be there?" He asked. "Of course! I promised Jess and Justin that I would always be at the games." His face lit up like a Christmas tree, "Awesome! I'll see you later then." He said as he rubbed my arm. I thought his action was strange but just chalked it up to him being friendly. California is different from Ohio after all. I entered the locker room and greeted all the other girls when I took my place next to Jess. We told each other about our days while she changed into her practice gear. I told her how I was given 4 solos for the concert and she was so excited, maybe more excited than I was. "Oh my God that's amazing! I'll invite everyone so that can see how amazing you are!" She jumped up and down as she hugged me. We chatted our way into the gym and I took my usual spot on the bleachers and watched the practice go on like usual. I finished up my homework for the night just as they had finished practicing for the game tonight. I headed out and stood by the lockers and waited for Jess. As soon as she came out she grabbed my arm and practically skipped the entire way to the auditorium. I took my seat on the piano and told her my ideas and played them in the order I would play them at the concert. She wasn't too keen on a few of my pieces so I switched them with similar pieces and those seemed to fit like a glove. "Those! All of them! They're perfect!" She said with a huge smile on her face. We headed to the library and I photocopied my pieces and labelled them and dropped them off at Mr.Blanc's office. We had some free time before she had to get ready for the game so we just walked around and chatted. "How's your bio project going?" Jess asked as we walked around the football field. "Great! Zach and I are pretty close to being done." I replied as we passed the bleachers. "Basketball Zach? Like, Zach Dempsey?" "Yeah...why?" "Oh, nothing. I just didn't expect you to pick him as a partner." "Mr. LaPierre paired us, but he looked fine with it so I didn't mind." Jess was silent for what felt like a few minutes. "Jess, is everything alright?" "Yeah, I was just thinking about the other day when Zach was talking to Justin about a girl in his biology class he was crushing on." "Awe that's cute! She's lucky, he's a smart kid." "She's probably jealous of you Y/N. I just don't want you to get hurt. Because if she hurts you, many people will hurt her." Jess winked as she nudged me. "I have a perfect grade in the class, it seemed like everyone wanted to be my partner." I winked back. "Okay smarty pants, let's get back so I can get ready and you can help me with my hair." We both giggled and walked back into the school. I grabbed a seat on the bleachers right behind where Jess normally sits. The cheerleaders started to file in along with the basketball players. I was too busy looking for her hair ties and brush in my bag to notice her and a few of the basketball players walk in. I found her brush just as she sat down in front of me. I brushed through her silky hair and parted it down the middle.I looked up to a pair of soft brown eyes staring at me, they belonged to Zach. I shot him a smile and a wave before I returned to Jess' hair. I braided her hair into two tight Dutch braids. I secured the last one and put her brush back in my bag. The bleachers were filling up pretty fast when I was done. The players were back in the locker room so they could make their entrance in front of the whole student body. The cheerleaders were just about to head onto the court when Jess turned to me and waved to my mum who appeared suddenly next to me. "Hi Mrs.Y/L/N! Glad you could come!" Jess said as she hugged my mum. "Of course sweetie! I couldn't miss out on cheering on Y/N's best friend!" My mum replied with a smile. "Knock 'em dead Tiger!" I said as I hugged her before she made her way onto the court to welcome our team onto the court. Each player erupted one by one, and suddenly Zach emerged and he searched the stands and then his eyes landed on me and he waved and smiled in my direction. I smiled and blushed back. My mum tapped my leg and I moved my ear closer to her where she whispered, "Is that him? The boy in your biology class?" I nodded to her question and blushed deeper. The game started and Zach and I would steal glances at each other every now and again, nothing to major...or so I thought.

It was now the week before the Winter Concert, but Zach and I needed to finish up the prep for our project. We were in the library alone after school working on the final prep we needed before we could call the project 'finished'. A few hours had passed and we finished up the last component, but we finished earlier than expected so we started to finalise the project. We were finally done, and we were early. That's not a bad thing though, nothing wrong with finishing early. I was putting my stuff away when Zach cleared his throat, I zipped my bag and looked at him. "What do you want to be when you graduate?" He asked. I smiled, "I want to be a biochemist." "Why?" "Do you want the real answer or the short one I use to not have serious questions?" "The real one." I took a deep breath and then exhaled, "Because of my dad." "Why don't you talk about him? You avoided it when we first met." "It's just a touchy subject, that's all." "Can we talk about it? I want to get to know you more." I was shocked at his response, but it's fair since we've worked a lot together this year. "He passed away almost a year ago. Right before Christmas, to be exact." "I-I'm so sorry Y/N." I took his hand in mine, "It's okay, we expected it. He had ALS. He was diagnosed when I just turned 10 and he's the reason I'm here. He wanted to move to California before he passed." "We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. I would understand." He said as he gently swiped his thumb back and forth against the back of my hand. "Honestly, it's okay. I'm not ashamed, he was and still is my hero. He was deteriorating slowly so we thought we had time. We bought the house and just had to wait on our other house to sell so we could move. But about Septemberish of last year he went downhill quite fast. So, plans got pushed back as he got treatment. He was always so strong, as supported me even when he didn't want to admit that he couldn't really support himself. Some of the last words he said were "If Stephen Hawking can do it, so can I." which is also why I lookup to Dr.Hawking so much. I want to be a biochemist because of him, for him. I want to find the cure to ALS." Zach was staring in awe. I stood up and he stood up and pulled me into a bear hug. A hug of solidarity, a hug of understanding. We both pulled away and looked into each others eyes and smiled. He looked away and grabbed his things. "I'll drive you home." He said as he motioned for me to follow him. "Oh, you don't have to." "I know, but I want to." We made it to his car and he pulled out of the parking lot and opened up to me. "I want to be a marine biologist." He said. We talked about his aspirations and life on the way to my house. He parked outside and I hugged him. "Thank you. It's great seeing others be themselves too." I said as I pulled away. His arm moved behind me and rubbed my back and he started to lean in and so I leaned in as well but we were interrupted by my mum yelling my name. We both laughed and I got out of the car and waved goodbye and headed into my house. I watched as he drove away.

The day of the concert arrived, and the whole school day was just a blur. The dismissal bell and I headed to my locker where I was greeted by Jess. "What's the plan for today?" She asked with a huge smile. "Well, the group pieces are going to get a run through, then the solos, and then we get to get ready." I replied grabbing my music bag out of my locker and we headed to the auditorium which was pretty much already set up for the concert tonight. Jess sat front row. The group numbers were rehearsed, then solos, and then I had to get ready. Jess and I headed to the locker room. I changed into a long sleeved black maxi dress with my mums pearl necklace. I put my hair half-up half-down and Jess straightened my hair and chatted me up. "There's going to be a big surprise for you at the concert. All because of moi" She said as she smiled. "Should I thank you now or later?" I asked. "Def later." She said as she scrunched her nose and raspberried me. We laughed and chatted until she finished my hair and I finished my light makeup. I put my stuff away in my bag and we both walked over to the auditorium. People we already shuffling into the auditorium. I took out the framed picture of my dad before I let Jess go off and I get ready backstage. "He would be so proud of you." "You think so?" "I KNOW so. Break a leg out there." Jess said as she hugged me and we went out separate ways.

*THIRD PERSON* Jess waited until she saw Mrs. Y/L/N. She rushed over and hugged her. "I have a plan." Jess began to tell Mrs. Y/L/N her whole plan. Jess bought a bunch of flowers so everyone could give her something in support. She explained how she got all of the cheerleaders and basketball to come and support her. Mrs. Y/L/N was almost brought to tears, not truly grasping how quickly and wholeheartedly her daughter was loved at this school. Jess and Y/N's mother sat in the front row by the piano on stage left. Jess looked back every now and again to check to see if her plan would be followed through. And just like that, the cheerleaders and basketball players shuffled in and sat in the first three rows by the piano. Zach sat next to Jess. "Mrs. Y/L/N, this is Zach." Y/N's mum reached out her hand, "Are you her biology partner? She always talks about you. She really likes you, ya know?" Jess chuckled and placed the palm of her hand over her mouth while Zach blushed, the whole team started to be all "Bro we told you she liked you back. You have nothing to worry about." In between laughs Jess responded, "I don't think she wanted you to tell him that Mrs. Y/L/N." "Oop, you're probably right sweetie. I'm sorry to embarrass you Zach. I got really excited when she told me she likes you." "No no, it's okay Mrs. Y/L/N. I'm flattered because I really like here too." A few more minutes passed and it was time for the concert to start. *END THIRD PERSON*

The concert was about to start and I just held the picture of my dad closer. My teacher and conductor was doing his introductory statement before we all came out of the wing of stage right and into our places. I walked across the stage and spotted...all of them. Mum, Jess, Zach, everyone I grew closer with this past semester. A smile drew across my face as I saw my mum first, almost in tears already, and then to Jess, and then to Zach who shot me a wink and my heart could've fluttered out of my chest. I placed the photo of my dad on the piano at an angle so both me and the audience could see it. I heard my mum gasp and then cry a little at the picture, which made me tear up a little. We did the classic orchestral warm up before I spoke into the microphone right in front of the piano. "My first solo piece is Op. 28: XII. Presto in G Sharp Major composed by Frederic Chopin." I took my place at the piano and played the one minute long piece. I took my hands off the piano and bowed in my seat. We had a few classical group pieces followed by a few solos and then a few pop songs arranged for the orchestra like Without You and Fight Song/Amazing Grace and Tour De France. I was the last solo for the first part of the concert, I once again stepped in front of the microphone to announce my solo, "My second solo piece is Op. 28: XVI. Presto con fuoco in B flat minor also composed by Frederic Chopin." I took my place at the piano for a second time and played the other one minute long piece. I took my hands off the piano and we all stood up and bowed and walked off as it was announced that there was a 15 minute break. I took the opportunity to use the bathroom and relax a little. My fellow peers were complimenting me left and right and I did the same back. The 15 minutes were almost up and we took our seats once again. Once I got my cue, I went up to the microphone and announced my third piece, "My third solo piece is Op. 28: IV. Largo in E minor also composed by Frederic Chopin." I once again took my place at the piano and played the two minute long sorrowful piece. I played with much more emotion than I did in the first half of the concert. I took my hands off the piano and bowed in my seat. More group pieces and solos and finally it was my last solo and my longest. I walked up and grabbed the picture of my dad, "Before I announce my final solo piece, I want to take the time and dedicate this to my dad. I lost my dad almost a year ago to ALS or Lou Gherig's as most of you may know it as. He was a wonderful pianist and he's the one who taught me how to play. Not a day goes without me thinking about him or playing a song to remember him. I came rushing into his hospital room one day just ecstatic and I told him, "I want to be a biochemist when I grow up. I want to help people like you." And the day he passed away, I held his hand and promised I would be the one to discover the cure for ALS. And I intend on keeping that promise. My final solo piece was his favourite to play for my mum and I, Op. 28: XV. Sostenuto in D flat major." I placed his picture back on the piano, but fully facing me this time. I wiped the few tears I had running down my cheeks already from before as I looked over and saw her sobbing into Jess who also tearing up along with Zach and everyone else. I looked up at my teacher and peers who were all wiping tears away. He motioned for them to stand and the audience soon followed. I played with more emotion and drive than I knew I even had. I played the piece with passion. I made it about 2 minutes in before the tears started to roll down my face as I played with pure love and passion. I hit the last chord lighter than I thought was even possible. I sat for a few seconds to just absorb the moment. I stood up to bow and noticed I had a standing ovation. I shed a few tears before we all sat down and played our final piece. The concert was over and we all bowed and hugged each other. I grabbed my dads picture and whispered, "I did it daddy, for you." before I went to get my bags and head to my mum, I left the music hall and found Jess who ran to me with flowers. "I knew you were going to be amazing!" She lead me to the people I have grown close to and they all had flowers for me. "Here's your surprise! I told you they all had to hear how amazing you are!" They all were giving me a flower or two and telling me how amazing I was, but then there was my mum who still had tears streaming down her face. We hugged in silence for what seemed like an eternity. Jess took my bags off me and grabbed the flowers so I could hug my mum even closer. We let go and all that was left was Zach who held a huge bouquet in his arms. He gave them to me and I thanked him. He was in awe. I let out a giggle as I gave Jess the bouquet and wrapped my arms around his neck and his hands went around my waist. "Wow, that was just- wow." He barely even got that out of his mouth, he started to lean down but I told him to hold on. I looked over at my mum, "Mum are you going to interrupt this kiss?" "No, not this time sweetheart." I looked toward Zach who had a huge smile on his face, I returned the smile, "Alright, it's go big or go home." Zach, almost like he had rehearsed this very moment, held me tighter and dipped me and kissed me. Our lips crashed and the world felt still, it was just us in that moment. Just us, in love.

#zach dempsey #zach dempsey imagine #imagine #13 reasons why #13rw #13 reasons why imagine #13rw imagine #show-choir-gal