#semi real talk though do you ever wish good upon anyone?? do you ever give anyone advice? do you ever help anyone?????

[ave-immaculata]

Why even bother praying for someone else? Their lifestyle, what they do and how they feel do not affect you personally. People are allowed to express themselves in whatever way they want, people are allowed to believe whatever they want. Just grow up and ignore it, not everyone believes the same prudish bullshit as you.

anon are you acknowledging that our prayers may affect what someone else believes or does?? you acknowledging that prayer is efficacious? watch out then, you might end up believing the same prudish bullshit as me 😘

#I can't find the christian bale I am praying for you without your consent meme but it feels very appropriate #semi real talk though do you ever wish good upon anyone?? do you ever give anyone advice? do you ever help anyone?????

[astrologyartandcinema]

Mercury Pluto Aspects

Taken from the Late, Great and disabled Astro Arena, not my original work but impossible to find on the web these days. If anyone knows if the former owner of the Astro Arena blog has a Tumblr or link I can give credit to please DM or comment. I haven't been able to access their writing in many years and any information on where to access it would be appreciated.

I wish to look in detail at the Mercury – Pluto combination, which in keeping with allapplications of Pluto evinces a range of difficult effects, most especially because until the behaviour is recognised and reconciled it creates a compulsion, which will be especially uncomfortable for the subject. Inevitably this difficulty and discomfort will affect important relationships too and ultimately – as with any Plutonic contact – the aspect must be transformed to prevent it becoming ultimately destructive. Aspects to Pluto from any of the personal planets are profoundly problematical, but as ever, the first and most effective step on the path to cure must be to recognise the behaviours and take responsibility for them. Owning up to our Plutonic compulsions, shining light upon them – uncomfortable though it may be – is often powerfully effective in transforming them: indeed, in many cases an “instant cure” is entirely possible.

Mercury Pluto, in keeping with other applications of Lord Hades deals with hidden, sinister and subtle aspects of communication and of course the mental processes that underpin them. Indeed, the entire arena of interpersonal communications is fraught for Mercury – Pluto, usually because of an early childhood that is characterised by difficulty, cruelty or power-games in communication matters. We shall explore these causal themes in the ensuing discussion, but first I would like to examine some of the specific effects.

Mercury Pluto is the aspectual manifestation of Mercury in Scorpio, which is renowned for being either verbose or rather monosyllabic. This implies nothing about the underlying mindset or facility for language or mental processing, but only the willingness or unwillingness to reveal the self. This is reflected perfectly by the aspects between Mercury and Pluto, most especially with the conjunction and to a lesser extent the easy aspects there is a loquacious response to the contact: these people talk, often exhaustively although without necessarily revealing much of substance about themselves. Conversely, those with hard aspects are not likely to give too much away, or at the very least – while they may talk freely – they are never comfortable talking about themselves in a way that is particularly incisive or revealing. In either case it boils down to a profound fear of communication and a sense that somehow words can cause pain and lasting damage. With the easy aspects there is not the same urgent sense of danger, but nevertheless there is a need to control the conversation which is engendered by the same mindset as the individual with the hard aspects. Often the Pluto conjunct Mercury person will talk exhaustively and exhaustingly, and the ‘listener’ will often walk away feeling tired and somewhat overwhelmed by the experience. In any case, the process of communicating, with easy aspects or hard, is uncomfortable for both parties involved in the dialogue.

It should be remembered that any aspect between Mercury and Pluto will evince one or other of these effects. For my own part I am extremely familiar with Mercury – Pluto as I have Mercury in Scorpio, peregrine and semi-square, contraparallel and in mutual reception with Pluto, I can speak from experience as to its effects.

With the hard aspects especially, the sense of difficulty with communication creates an observer rather than a participator. Here is somebody who is aware of every subtle nuance of communication and is typically deeply distrustful of words. Usually it will be found that Mercury – Pluto grew up in an environment where truth was taboo, and one or both parents will have been the murky wellspring from which this skewed sense of things was first experienced. It is also possible that an older brother or sister was the cause of the problem or some difficult secret in connection with that sibling or one that haunted and tainted the family environment in some way might be found to be in evidence. On a fairly simplistic level, the Mercury Pluto child will have learned early on that words were not to be trusted at face value. The resentful and controlling mother who would tell her child: “of course I love you darling, more than anything in the world” while evincing no genuine or believable warmth is one good example of this effect. There is then a dichotomy here, between words and more subtle forms of non-verbal communication that have poisoned the child’s perceptions. Body language, ever a reliable indicator of true feelings, is therefore valued much more highly than any simple verbal statement, but this again is fraught with difficulty. The Mercury – Pluto person is formed in such away that they are innately suspicious of any communication: this is very often sensed by others, who feel that they are “on the spot” somehow, and their body language will betray their discomfort which will in turn set off the ultra-sensitive radar of Mercury – Pluto. This can create a cycle of suspicion, distrust and interrogation that is especially exhausting within close relationships later in life.

Therefore, the Mercury – Pluto type is often handicapped in life by being too perceptive and it is through this mechanism of not being able to take things at face value and exhausting oneself and others by continually investigating the most subtle of interactions that the damage is done.

The child learned to do things this way because of the unreliability of close family communications. Language may have been used to damaging effect by a parent or sibling, secrets were kept and wielded almost politically within the early home environment and this actually characterises very neatly the quality of this combination for the afflicted. Words cannot ever mean what they say, there is usually a hidden agenda, an ulterior motive, a secret being kept: indeed this is exactly the case in the childhood home, but the problem is that the child grows up and takes this same understanding out into the world and applies it indiscriminately to every relationship in the whole of life from then on.

But there is a more profound realisation here too. It is not actually so much what is said that concerns Mercury – Pluto, but indeed what is  not said. This creates an anxiety about communication that is really very disturbing: this is why the native talks so much (in the conjunction or easy aspect), not because they have anything much to say, but because they are terrified of the silence and what it might mean. The child will no doubt have been controlled with lack of communication as much as the use of ugly, brutal or cruel language. A parent or sibling may have ostracised or ignored the child as a means of creating an emotional anxiety, or made vague, open-ended threats which would have created a sense of foreboding and impending anguish all with the express purpose of eliciting control.

There is too a legacy of damaging secrets in the early home which would have reinforced this sense of anguish, very often there are half-brothers or sisters who are kept secret or in some other way separate from the rest of the family. There may also have been other secrets relating to siblings which, when revealed created anxiety in the native: I have seen cases where a more favoured sibling is secretly given money or some other treat or benefit by a parent unbeknown to the Mercury Pluto child and when this is learned the assurances by the parent that they love their children equally become hollow and suspect.

At its best, and transformed, Mercury Pluto makes an excellent researcher and psychologist. Able to delve into the deeper and more innate realities of interaction they can often see cause where others cannot; they see the subtle motivations that are in fact pre-cognitive, and in a very real sense they do not need the words to arrive at an understanding. In fact, the Mercury – Pluto person can often be frustrated at the depth of their understanding because words are ultimately a rather blunt instrument when trying to convey the profundity of their insight and this creates another signature of the contact of course: Mercury Pluto despises the superficial and capricious. Intense and insightful, but with a need to avoid obsessing, Mercury Pluto is a natural researcher and student of human nature and motivation, they make excellent counsellors and – once the aspect is transformed – powerful and persuasive communicators who are able to see into the heart of any matter.

#mercury placements #pluto aspects #mercury aspects #scorpio mercury #astro observations #astrology observations #astro notes #astrology notes #mercury conjunct pluto #mercury square pluto #mercury trine pluto #mercury sextile pluto

[keingleichgewicht]

WERE YOU KIDDING ABOUT THE ASK GAME if not i dont have any specific lyrics in mind but i always thought the lyrics to the mill were so cool and maybe you could get some thoughts out of them? :0

YEAH GOD OKAY LET’S TALK ABOUT THE MILL. LET’S TALK ABOUT UHHHHHHHHH [THROWS DARTBOARD]

this line. this MIGHT go on for a while so i will............  readmore

so the mill feels kind of notably different to the rest of the pafl songs, which tend to be unusually literal for lyric, either straightforward retellings of events (punch it, punk!) or character piece monologues set to plot visuals (strike 3) or both (all of them, but for instance particularly comfort zone, which is just dmitry’s horrible manifesto until it gets hijacked by a death sentence in the second verse.) the mill is a lot more like what we expect from poetry these days, which is to say it’s heavy on imagery, low on clarity, and fucking confusing!

I’ll draw a circle in the sand, drive myself around the bend in a desperate attempt to hold on to your battered hand Rocked to sleep beneath the snow, she is bathed in youthful glow ‘Strong enough to let it go,’ he says, but darling, I don’t know

a lot of the mill is about circles. this is in the name: a mill is something which turns. a waterwheel is a circle, a grindstone is a circle. it’s even in the melody: the chorus is a cyclic, pentatonic four-note riff that keeps going up and down and up its own ladder, chasing its own tail, not really reaching resolution. and then it’s also in, you know, the story:

the meat grinder!!!! everyone’s favorite fucking hellhole!!!! it is only semi-explicitly identified in the song but that’s because it’s a concept from the source material - both tarkovsky’s stalker and roadside picnic feature the meat-grinder, as a location nicknamed thus by stalkers because it is even more fucking deadly than the rest of the zone, all of which is already ridiculously fucking deadly, and if you’ve seen the movie:

it is more or less instantly recognizable in the mill as well. so here we have a circle! here we have a mill (the title has about seventy double meanings but this is certainly one of them,) and as it turns out, this mill at least will absolutely kill you. and horribly too. interestingly though, in roadside picnic (the book) the meat-grinder is not a tunnel, and it’s not round - it’s just a nondescript patch of ground which will wring you out like a dishcloth and kill you extremely dead if you walk into it. on the other hand what we have in the book in terms of circles is the golden ball, which is the equivalent of the movie’s the room, which is, well,

in short both stories ultimately hinge upon the idea that there is a something in the zone which can give you your heart’s desire. anything you want. everything you want. whatever you want. it is infinitely powerful; it is infinitely capable. the catch is that it will only give you what you want. the catch is that giving you what you want is not the same as giving you what you are asking for. the other catch is that in both cases you have to get through the meat-grinder first.

(so, by the way, what the fuck, right? does pafl’s zone have a wish-granting factory? is it also behind the grinder? where were the original trio going when they got themselves fucked up? and did they get there?)

but the point is: the golden ball, the wish-granting factory, is also a circle. it’s just sort of a sphere. it’s a big round fuckin yellow thing. you know, sorta like:

which is THE ONLY TIME yellow is used in occam’s razor not counting the full-colour shots, and it drives me CRAZY, but it is also me going full conspiracy board so let’s not even worry about it. THE POINT IS.

the circle is the death-machine and the wish-machine. neither of these things are really.... very good. the circle, or at least the arc, is also very closely associated with death:

(розовая дуга предрассветного, ‘rose arc of pre-dawn’. if i’ve fucked up that nominative please feel free to stone me to death!) 

in the gdoc notes to message lost ferry briefly refers to the dawn as if it were a good thing, the dawn of hope, which is a usage that sort of agrees with the desolate and deathless hope of strike 3′s ‘everything will pass / a day will come,’ but on the other hand it really is very closely associated with dying. nikolai bites it; nikita bites it; sergei and olga left significant chunks of themselves behind. and the thing about ‘this too shall pass’ is that it’s always true, as is ‘everything ends’, but of course that’s ‘cause the thing that ends might be you. and as we know

dawn is an ending. so that seems concerning!

i think the circle, the arc, the bolt falling back to the ground, is not a good thing. i am getting a little conspiracy board here in general but forgive me, i cannot make you a wholesome answer, my wit’s diseased. i think the circle is an enclosed space. it’s an unbroken cycle. it’s the grindstone. it’s the mill. it’s about what pafl’s always been about: about being trapped, about having no chances, about being bordered upon. the circle’s the geometric figure of equidistance from a given point, and you can walk on it forever, and nothing will ever change; you will never get closer, you will never get further away, you will never get out! the sun rises, the sun sets, and you are no closer to anything you wanted. it’s worth noting that anya’s borderline city, the zone-edge port town she complains is trying to crush all her dreams, her mill

is a circle. (a cog in a machine! a grind-wheel! a cage!)

and yura, whose dreams have already been burned out of him, who starts the series already resigned to never getting out of here, calls it ‘this dire deja-vu’, i am specifically resisting putting the accent marks back onto that, which is to say, it’s a repetition that haunts him. it’s going round and round and getting nowhere.

so if we bring it back around: drawing a line in the sand, as the phrase is generally used, means setting a border, means saying this far and no further. often it’s yourself you’re setting the border for. you hit some divide you can’t abide crossing so you say this stops here, it may be too early or too late, but i say it stops here. so logically: drawing a circle in the sand means you’ve locked yourself in completely.

I’ll draw a circle in the sand, drive myself around the bend in a desperate attempt to hold your battered hand

the whole first half of this song, i think, is olga promising to grind herself down in a hundred ways if it means she won’t be left alone. how hard can it be to never let it overflow? she may feel lower than the low, she may wish she could just disappear out here, into the postindustrial rust, but though it gets harder all the time she will keep pretending. she isn’t going to burden sergei, or indeed anyone, with her problems, her fears, her scars. she is hurt, but she’s used to it, she’s gotten used to being haunted long ago. she keeps her bad eye covered. she stays within her circle she has drawn. she keeps going round and round. she will take the smallest sliver of human connection and be happy, she promises she will be happy, she promises she won’t ask for more, she will take just the ‘hello.’

but you knooooow it’s not true. you know it’s grinding her down, that she’ll be milled to nothing pretty soon, and really she knows it too.

i am perhaps seventy percent sure that this line is a reference to the windmills of your mind by michel legrande, which features such lines as

Like a tunnel that you follow to a tunnel of its own Down a hollow to a cavern where the sun has never shone Like the circles that you find in the windmills of your mind

which on one hand seems sort of obscure to be a purposeful reference but on the other hand would be a hell of a coincidence if it wasn’t, wouldn’t it. either way it characterizes circles ambiguously, but definitely unsettlingly. going around in circles is chasing infinity, but what in god’s name would you do with it if you caught it? what are you even hoping to accomplish? and: 

the second half of this song is bitterer, sharper - staring down the mouth of the meat-grinder she’s a little more willing to admit to herself that this is going nowhere. she is running out of cages to keep herself in. she is very tired. it’s easy to say why don’t you leave it all behind, it’s easy to say, she’s strong enough to let it go, it’s easy to say, too strong to die. it is a lot harder to actually live.

this is also where the flashbacks admit to us how badly hurt they really were - sergei with his whole side in shreds, she still hides her eye but at least we get to see it’s bleeding. this moral compass is forever misaligned, she says, so there is damage, and it is lasting. and she can’t settle for hello, she can’t live like this, she needs someone by her side. the trouble is whether she can believe she has any hope of getting that

as for who ‘her’ is, or the ‘she’ of ‘she is bathed in youthful glow’, i figure there’s two possibilities: either it’s nadya, who haunts olga too, because nikita’s abandonment of nadya represents exactly what she most fears for herself, or it’s olga’s younger, unbroken, binocular self - both of whom were so young, and so easily hurt, and are now unfindable.

and then there’s this conclusion: ‘the sun will rise, until then / i’ll be waiting for you on the other side.’ which maybe is a sort of hope after all? she’s reached no real conclusions in the zone - she knows there must be hope but she can only barely believe in it - she thinks she is destined to self-destruct. but on the other hand she still has that, a version of sergei’s own ‘a day will come’

you may be hurt, but if you can hold yourself together, you can hope for a dawn someday. an ending. a change. but the trouble’s that there’s more than one kind of ending. and there’s more than one meaning for other side. there are cages, and then there are cages. and you know what else looks like a tunnel, a circle?

staring down the barrel of the gun.

#pafl #parties are for losers #it speaks #ask #in all fairness and in my defence when i made the joke i said i would write not less than one thousand words and by fuck #this has not been less than one thousand words! #jorgyjuice #THANK YOU FOR THE ASK ALSO THIS WAS REALLY FUN #and thank you VERY dearly to anyone who takes the time to read all this; you own my soul now; feel free to collect at any time #metatext

[katzkinder]

London Bridge Is Falling Down

Envy Pair version of my Counting Sheep series! Himiko is my headcanon for the name of Mikuni's mother. Since Mikuni's name contains the character for "kingdom," I thought this name belonging to an ancient queen suited his mother well.

Mikuni is annoying.

That’s something Jeje has always known, ever since Mikuni was a child, ever since the first time he saw him, bounding around his mother’s skirts and throwing himself into Lily’s arms to be held and cuddled and fawned over while Jeje had slunk back to the cellars. Himiko had been so bright, back then, the rot of Envy not yet showing in a visible way, that tiny baby that would grow into his brother’s Eve gurgling happily in her arms.

Jeje was the one who had found him. Himiko had wept when she saw him, all the anger and hate leaving her at once, vanishing as if it never existed when she laid her eyes on the fragile little bundle, swaddled in soft fabrics with little gloves on his impossibly tiny hands. She had sobbed all the harder when she took the crying child from him, her hands shaking while she cradled him close, useless apologies spilling from her pretty lips. The body of the babe’s mother had rapidly been growing cold on the carpet, and little Misono… Would remember none of it.

(Jeje remembered all of it, though. He doesn’t think a single moment will ever fade from his mind, no matter how many eons pass)

As Mikuni had grown, with Jeje watching over him as a silent, imposing, guardian angel, always behind the boy’s mother while she had read bedtime stories to him, always so aware of those bright, bright, too bright eyes, Jeje had also become aware of a number of other things, and those things remained true into adulthood. Mikuni has all of his mother’s gorgeous looks (and some from his father, but admitting as such is just asking to be choked), her stubborn brightness, her sharp tongue and wit, but more than any of that...

Mikuni is annoying.

...Because he never listens to what’s good for him. Just like his mother before him, he had taken Jeje despite his warnings, and some bitter, sick part of Jeje had wanted him to. The same part of him that had given in to Himiko herself.

But, well, he’d always known Mikuni never listened, too.

He wonders if Lily knows, though he doubts that he’s aware, of those golden afternoons when Mikuni would sneak down to his hiding place and find him lurking near the boilers, the excited, terrified whispers of Lily’s children, his human children, chasing after the young heir as he confidently hopped down, step by step, into the “monster’s” lair.

They had talked. About nothing. About everything. Well, actually, Mikuni had talked, seemingly not caring that Jeje never said much back, incredible and beautiful and… Well, there was a reason everyone called Mikuni brilliant.

Jeje knew better, though.

***

The most annoying thing about Mikuni, in his opinion, is not how loud he is. It’s not his contrariness, or his capriciousness, or his constant, gnawing curiosity causing him to make mischief.

The most annoying thing about Mikuni was how badly he wanted people to think he was naturally good at everything.

See, Mikuni was smart. Jeje would give him that. But he was also very stupid. It wasn’t as if he lacked common sense, though sometimes Jeje wondered, but it was like Mikuni wanted people to resent him.

More than anyone Jeje had ever met, his Eve was a hard worker. Someone who hated owing others a single damn thing. It was that useless pride and sense of responsibility for things that couldn’t possibly be Mikuni’s fault, things Jeje suspected, no matter how much he denied it, Mikuni had learned, had internalized, from his father and from Lily, that was why Jeje refused to call Mikuni brilliant like everyone else.

...But he did shine. Like a candle in a darkened room. Like a beacon. Warm, and inviting, someone to warm himself beside, even knowing that that flame would burn him up, just like a moth.

The question was... Who would that flame melt into nothing first?

Jeje would be damned twice over if he let it be his Eve.

Turning away from way he had been watching the other man work late hours, hunched over Nod’s ledgers and planners and Mikuni’s own personal notebooks, where his pen scratched across the surfaces of each calculating profits, expenses, bills, new products and designs and promotions and planning trips, Jeje silently makes his way to their kitchen.

Burning the midnight oil just means you won’t have any left when you truly need it.

A snort, reaching for their cabinets. Of course, that’s what Mikuni had him for.

***

He’s gotten very good at brewing tea. Jeje isn’t much of a chef at all, but living with Mikuni for so long, it was practically guaranteed he’d learn to at least make a semi-decent cup, and thank god he had. He would have truly killed Mikuni by now if he hadn’t, he swears, the man is just as persnickety about his tea as Lily is with his coffee.

...He’s also gained a new appreciation for the stuff, but maybe that comes with the territory of spending hours upon hours listening to Mikuni’s one sided argument about the best ways to drink it. It’s hard not to be impressed with all the little details that goes into brewing what’s considered a perfect cup (by Mikuni’s standards, anyway), and even harder still to not feel a fondness for something that draws such genuine passion out of his once charge, now equal.

...It’s such an odd thought. He knows what people think. That Mikuni has always had a stranglehold on him. That Mikuni has always been in charge. That Mikuni has always been someone… Grown up.

Again. Jeje knows better.

He sets the temperature on their electric kettle, one purchased on one of their many visits to the British Isles, sits at their kitchen table, and waits. Thinks.

Mikuni has been grown up for a long time now. And he will continue to grow, and people will continue to think, no matter Jeje’s efforts, that he is a no good, conniving schemer who would sacrifice them all on a wish and a prayer and something like a maybe.

And, well, perhaps they aren’t wrong. Perhaps Jeje is a fool. But if he’s a fool, he’s a court jester, and as court jester he will make absolutely certain this time that the king does not make his mistakes without someone there to make fun of him for it, even if only behind closed doors, even if only between the two of them.

To everyone else, he is a dictator’s executioner, and that’s fine with him. Everyone else doesn’t matter.

His eyes drift to Mikuni’s favorite cup, one made of glass and painted with delicate, swooping strokes of gold, with lilies and a taupe lacquer surrounding all but a window through which one could admire the lovely colors of their favored drink. He takes it into his hands, so much larger than this tiny cup, and finds himself smiling as he turns the joint birthday gift from the Lust pair over and around, admires those intricate, fancy details that speak of quality and knowing down to the letter exactly what Mikuni’s tastes are.

Well.

Almost everyone.

***

The teapot has been warmed, the kettle filled with mineral water and piping hot, and by the time Jeje finishes steeping the loose leaf tea, their little kitchen clock, kitschy and cute and shaped like a cartoon chicken hatching from an egg, reads 2:17 in the morning.

Jeje picks up the cup, the container of melatonin supplements Mikuni has taken since he was twenty at his Servamp’s behest, and carefully carries both back to where he knows the other man will still be completely absorbed in his work.

True to form, Mikuni is still at it. The predictability of his late night, sleepless habits, of his need to do something with his time, makes Jeje’s frown deepen, ever so slightly.

He wishes Mikuni would just rest. Close his eyes, not do anything, just lie there and let Jeje guard him, just be still, be quiet, like did when he was a child.

… He knows better than to think a mind as stubborn and that moves as fast as his Eve’s could ever achieve that, but he can dream. He can also just sicc the Lust pair on him.

That’ll put him to bed real fast.

“What’re you grinning about over there?”

He startles, not having expected Mikuni to acknowledge his presence, and nearly sloshes hot chamomile with lavender onto the pretty little matching saucer that accompanied the cup. It’s a miracle it didn’t fall over completely. Jeje lets out a breath, so quiet it’s inaudible, and curses himself for forgetting that Mikuni can see him right now.

Then again, even if he was wearing his mask, Mikuni would have seen right through him.

He always does.

His Eve is watching him still, waiting for him to move, and then his eyes flick down to what Jeje has in his hands. His lips twist.

Jeje ignores it and continues to make his way over to where Mikuni had been peacefully working. They don’t speak a word to one another, and no sooner than Jeje sets his cargo down, he’s going back the way he came, knowing it’s useless to try and ply Mikuni with words or favors.

The man is annoying in his stubbornness, too.

He hears a sniff behind him, the scratch of pen on paper once more, but it isn’t long before that little noise stops again. A sigh. Jeje chances peering around the doorframe, smiling, just a tad, as a clearly frustrated Mikuni slaps his pen down onto the counter and picks up his cup, no doubt tempted by the smell of his favorite night time blend.

A swallow. Two.

Mikuni unscrews the lid on the melatonin gummies. Pops a couple into his mouth. Chews, and swallows. The tension leaves his shoulders. He allows himself to savor the warmth in his hands.

Jeje leaves him be and heads upstairs to their room, knowing Mikuni now won’t be far behind.

“Jeje,” Mikuni calls after him, voice soft in that way it sometimes, ever so rarely gets, so quiet Jeje almost misses it. “... You still really suck at this.”

Mikuni is annoying.

#kat's katerwauling #servamp #jekuni #servamp jeje #mikuni alicein #pawprints #it's done! #it's late but it's done!

[zaptrapp]

Another Kind of Storm

Pairing: Rex x fem!reader x Fives x Jesse

Summary: you seduce Captain Rex during a party at 79’s, but your master plan includes Fives and Jesse too.

Warnings: +18 (PLEASE IF YOU ARE NOT OF AGE SCROLL DOWN)!! Smut/ NSFW, gangbang, cuckold, oraljob (giving and receiving), door peeping, public service, double penetration, creampie.

Words count: 3.7k

Author’s note: this is my first time posting a fic and writing in English. If there are grammar mistakes please let me know, I want to improve since it’s not my mother tongue.

Almost every clone in the 501st battalion know who you are.

When they gaze upon your dancing figure at the 79’s, when they chat with you in the mess hall of the base, when you sneak into Captain Rex’s apartments before a mission thinking nobody saw you… It’s so damn obvious!

No one really talks about it, soldiers should not have romantic interests, it is actually forbidden. All those clones were bred and raised for just one purpose: war.

But the cloning scientists on Kamino forgot a small detail. They are men, they are vigorous and they have maybe double the need of a normal man to let down the stress after a mission. So it goes without saying that sex is a daily thought for all these soldiers.

Since he met you at the bar Rex has eyes and thoughts just for you.

You were familiar with the 501th battalion, you worked as a crew member at their base on Coruscant, occasionally moving from there to the Jedi Temple for errands. It was almost impossible to not notice the Captain of the Legion, along with many other soldiers. There has been many glances between you two, some sexy puns whispered in the corridors of the base.

There was an immense physical attraction, the massive weight of not being able to do anything in fear of the consequence just alimented your burning fire. You both needed each other.

So when Rex, entered the 79’s that one distant night, looking more fierce and handsome than ever, you just couldn’t hold it anymore.

You immediately locked eyes, as he was there just to find you and bring you home with him.

He was intense but with a gentle smile, and you were an astonishing vision.

From that moment you and the Captain of the “Five-Oh-First” simply decided to ignore the sacred rule of forbidden sexual intercourse.

His favorite place to fuck is back at your apartments, nice and quiet, so that you can make as much noise as you two want. He is very, very vocal with you, praising your figure as you bounce up and down his dick.

“Your pussy is so tight, pretty girl. Take every inch of this cock inside you… Like this.”

He loves taking control, guiding your hips with his hands as you sit in his lap. After all he is the Captain. But you, on the other hand, prefer taking risks; Rex is used to it during battle, and you love to put up a little show every once in a while.

Tonight you are celebrating the safe return of the battalion to Coruscant. Music is blasting at the lounge bar and the clones are having the time of their lives, dancing and making toasts.You hear they are gonna take some time off, to rest.

“So, what’s your plan for the night?” asks Jesse shotting Corellian Whiskey down his throat.

He is staring at your entire body wrapped in a tight black dress. If a look could fuck… well then Jesse was the master of eye-fucking.

“Umm, nothing really, just getting wasted with you guys, celebrating your bravery.” Your head is already light and dizzy and a small grin appears on your face.

You glance at Rex for an instant, thinking about what kind of position he is feeling tonight. Maybe, if you are lucky enough, he will fuck you roughly from behind, securing your hands above your head and tormenting with the other hand your nipples.

“Or we could get back at the base, playing some… games” proposes Fives, looking seemingly innocent at you and then at Jesse.

You look back at Fives. There is not a single drop of innocence in him, he is pure lust, always planning to engage you in one of his filthy games.

It’s not that hard to understand that both of them have a crush on you, even though they know you were fucking their Captain. But this night he and Jesse feel… different. They look even more handsome than ever, they flirt in a cocky manner, and they never fail to put a smile on you. Never. You wonder how good they are in bed, while a quick image of them fucking you simultaneously flashes across your eyes. They are clones after all, you already know what they look like under there. A wet spot starts forming in your panties. Oh stars…Rex is sipping his drink silently, casually looking at you from behind his eyebrows.

You are an intoxicating vision, no other woman in that bar could compete with you tonight. Other clones you recognize, such as Kix, Tup and Hardcase, stop in the middle of the dance floor looking at you and raising their glass full of alcool. You smile back, full of confidence. At the counter Dogma is staring at you with a brow lifted, burning with jealousy.

Everyone is a flirt tonight. Except for Rex.

He is silent, absorbed in his thoughts, and that makes you a bit worried.

What is he thinking about? He seems so distracted, like he’d rather be doing anything else than being there, having fun with his brothers and you.

Well, you have had just enough of this attitude, so you decide it’s better do something about it.

You stretch your leg under the table, softly touching the boot of the man in front of you.

Rex awakens from his trance, smirking sweetly at you.

You take courage and move your leg up, following his armored calf.

The captain swallows hard, stiffening in his chair.

Jesse and Fives don’t seem to notice as they are talking heatedly about how they would spend their free time.

Your foot finally reaches Rex’s bulge: he is already semi-hard (how?!), so you start massaging it.

He lets out a whimper, careful not to get caught by his brothers.

Seeing him so flustered makes you want him now. You reach your heated cunt with a hand, touching your clit from above the underwear just enough to wet yourself.

Rex notices and decides to play your game.

Finally, Cap!

“Okay boys, I need to go to the bathroom real quick. Be right back.” says staring menacing at you.

Jesse and Fives watch carefully as he disappears behind the door, leaving your needy self alone.

“What the Kriff was that?” Fives seems confused, looking back at you for answers.

You scroll your shoulders as you massage your clit under the table, carefully.

Jesse gives you a stare. He is not buying it.

“Maybe he… feels sick?” you suggest desperately.

“I think he can handle himself.” states Jesse raising an eyebrow.

“I-I should still go check on him…”

“Sweet girl, you can’t enter the gentlemen’s restroom!” laughs out Fives.

“Nobody’s gonna notice. I’ll be quick and stealthy, just like you.” You mock them.

You leave the table, looking back at the chaotic duo.

They’re not buying your pathetic excuses and you perfectly know it. You also know they’re gonna follow you in the bathroom, and that thought makes your heart miss a heartbeat.

Your master plan has started.

You open carefully the door of the restroom, finding it surprisingly empty.

“Rex?” you whisper.

“Come on girl, what took you so long?” barks Rex behind a semi-closed door of the fresher.

“I had to make up an excuse for Fives and Jesse!” you whine.

“Those morons probably know a-about us, no big deal…” says the captain almost stuttering.

You reach the door, only to find that your man already stripped himself of his upper armor and he is now playing with his hard cock, ready for you.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” says smirking at you.

You are speechless as you close the door behind you. You drop on your knees, eager to shove that big dick in your mouth.

“Woah, you’re so greedy little one!”

Rex slaps his cock on your cheek as he introduces a finger in your mouth. You suck it gently, rubbing your tongue against his fingertip.

“Come on Rex, my throat is impatient… I want you to fuck my face!” you say without any decency.

He does not notice the door of the restroom opening and closing with the slightest noise, but you do as you were expecting… company.

“Fives, right here.” Whispers Jesse. You must have excellent hearing because that was really hard to catch.

He introduces his manhood right in your open mouth as he grabs your hair and pulls them to adjust you.

You gag, saliva already spilling from your mouth. He is so fucking huge.

He starts pushing in and out, satisfying his needs.

“Oh s-stars! I wish you could see how good you look with my dick in your mouth princess.” He mutters biting his lower lips. You could stay hours like this, sucking his sweet member and pushing him far into your throat, your tongue tickling his tip.

He pulls out, letting you catch your breath. Your spit is drooling out of your mouth, running in the craves of your breasts.

In your kneeling position you see two pairs of boots on the other side of the fresher, bending over to check you and their captain out. You hear Fives sigh.

You smile, suddenly taking Rex’s balls in your mouth and sucking them hard, making him whimper.

“Easy there, girl… I need those.” He grunts.

“Rex…” you say sweetly re-emerging from under his testicles.

He looks down at you confused.

“I was thinking… that maybe we should include someone else in our filthy little games here.”

“Oh yeah? Do you have anyone in mind?” he asks surprised but curious.

You actually weren’t expecting that kind of answer. You felt like Rex wasn’t keen on sharing you with other men in his presence. But if it pleased you and you asked him nicely… who was him to refuse?

“Well… as you said before, Jesse and Fives probably already know about us.” You advance.

Those door-peeping enthusiasts gasp on the other side of the restroom. Loudly.

“What was that?” asks Rex widening his amber eyes.

“Just guess…” you tease him, licking the tip of his cock as your eyes still watch his confused face.

“Oh Dank Farrik! FIVES, JESSE!” he barks, putting his member back into the pants and storming out in the corridor.

“Sir, yes sir?!” the duo run out of the fresher, standing still in the hallway of the restroom.

“What were you two doing in there?”

“Sir, I was just…” Jesse stutters.

“We needed to go to the bathroom, sir.” Confesses Fives, avoiding Rex’s menacing look.

You exit the door of your hideout, facing the ARC troopers.

“You liars, you were spying on us…” you say tempting them.

Jesse and Fives don’t reply. They were obviously caught red-handed in a trap set up by your clever genius.  

Troopers, so predictable.

“So, you heard the last part of our… conversation.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Admits Fives. You can see he is sweating as he tries to cover his boner with his kama, failing miserably.

“And? What do you think? Wanna join?”

Rex looks at you. He isn’t confused, he just wants to know if you are comfortable doing that. You reassure him with a nod of your head.

“You already know what I think about you…Stars… you’re so hot.” Says ARC trooper Fives.

“And I really want to fuck the shit out of your body, princess. Always have.” Adds Jesse without second thought.

“Well then… what are we waiting?”

You enter the door of the fresher, choosing the biggest of them all: there was enough space for three grown man and you and a small, round table in the corner. It was perfect.

Rex gives you a kiss from behind, placing his big hands on your hips and making your head turn in his direction, while Fives and Jesse proceed to strip of their armor.

Fives reaches you first, raising your dress to gain access to your wet pussy. He rubs is fingers near your hole, teasing you.

“You’re already so wet for us, pretty girl.” He says, introducing two fingers up, while with his thumb he starts massaging your clit.

“Oh Maker, F-Fives!” you whine at the sensation of his digits moving in and out of you.

Rex, behind you, is sucking your neck greedily, groping your bare ass.

“Princess, I think you are forgetting somebody…” hisses Jesse. He is completely naked, unlike the other two, and his shaft is pointing at you. Does it look slightly bigger than his brother’s?

No, that’s impossible! Even though…

You reach it with your shaking hand, caressing his tip with your fingertips.

He leans forward, pushing it entirely in your hand and placing a wet kiss on your lips.

“So needy J-Jesse…” you mutter.

You can’t really focus on anything, you have too many good sensations piercing your body.

Fives falls on his knees, spreading your legs as he buries his head between them. You can feel his trimmed goatee tickling your inner thigh as he proceeds to stick out his tongue and moving it in circular motions, eating you like a buffet.

“Oh STARS!” you scream, forgetting you are in a public place.

The legends are true, he sure is the best pussy-eater of the entire Battalion.

You already feel on the edge of an orgasm, your clit pulsing with pleasure. You massage it vigorously and, with no time to warn Fives, you come, his mouth still latched on your cunt.

He looks up with a grin painted on his face “You liked that, didn’t you?”. His goatee is now wet from the juices of your body.

You stutter a yes, your mind still dizzy from the orgasm.

“What a greedy little one we have here. Taking everything but giving nothing…It’s time to learn something.” Says Rex from behind your shoulder. He left a stray of marks all over your neck.

He spreads your leg even further while leaning you down gently and pulling out his pants his vibrating cock.

“Yes Rex, put it in me please.” You get even more excited that he’s gonna fuck you with his kama on. That thing is so damn sexy.

“You don’t get to call me like that now, you know what you have to call me.”

“Yes, c-captain.”

“Very good, girl. Jesse, I think she feels her mouth empty, don’t you little one?”

“Mmm, indeed Captain.” You start salivating at the thought of Jesse’s dick in your mouth.

“Sir, I’ll provide to that right away.”

Jesse places right in front of you. In your leaning position you have perfect access at his manhood.

He pulls your hair, obliging you to look at him. A smirk appears on his tattooed face.

He won’t be gentle, that’s what he is saying with that smirk.

He guides you near his dick, a drop of precum already sprouting from his tip, and he shoves it right in your open mouth.

With Jesse you don’t get time to adjust at his size, he is already fucking your face hard. You start gagging and drooling as he fills your throat entirely.

Rex starts pounding you from behind, placing his big hands on your ass and squeezing your buttocks.

Fuck, they are filling you up entirely. You mind goes blank.

“Oh this feels like heaven, princess.”

You move your eyes slightly to the side and you catch Fives sitting on the table, watching you while jacking off. Oh Kriff, this makes you even more desperate.

You suddenly hear the door of the restroom open.

Jesse stops thrusting his hips, leaving his dick in your mouth as you suck it insistently, delivering a small moan of pleasure.

Rex does not stop fucking your wet pussy but he makes sure to produce as little noise as possible.

“What a wonderful night, isn’t it, Cody?”

“Yeah, quite amusing Commander Wolffe.”

Rex’s eyes widen. He covers his mouth with his hand: he is on the edge of an orgasm and the risk of being discovered by the two Commanders is just another incentive.

You start swinging your hips, bouncing on his dick frantically while producing a wet noise.

He can’t stop now, your second orgasm is right near the corner.

Feeling your holes both filled up is a joy for you.

“Have you seen the girls tonight? I swear they have eyes just for you.” Says Wolffe washing his hands in the sink, the sound of the water running covering the wet clap of your butt-cheeks against Rex’s pubes.

“Nah, it’s just your imagination. I’m not as charming as half of the boys here… Take Rex for instance.”

“What about him?”

“I’m sure he’s off somewhere filling one of those beautiful girls. That mad lad, always up to something.” Laughs off Cody.

Fives is on the verge of tears and Jesse curls his toes trying not to move.

But Rex doesn’t hold it anymore: he gives a final vigorous thrust, releasing his cum in your vagina and letting out a low groan.

You moan softly, your orgasm following the Captain’s. You still swing on his dick completely buried inside you. Maker, you can feel the shots of hot cum spilling out from your cunt.

“If you say so Commander… W-what was that?”

Oh stars… they heard it.

If they open the door of the last fresher of the row, the one reserved for the high ranks of the Grand Army of the Republic, they’d see the wildest scenario that could possibly flash in their minds.

And they would probably ask if they could join, but you wouldn’t handle two other men right now.

“Leave it Wolffe, it’s probably some smartass enjoying himself. Come on, let’s get back.”

They exit the restroom and you all breathe a sigh of relief.

“That was fucking close!” Admits Fives excited.

You move from your position, pulling out Jesse’s cock and massaging it.

Rex looks at you smirking as he caresses your hole full of his sweet semen.

“What a nice vision you are... don’t you agree Fives?”

“Indeed sir…” admits Fives biting his lips. Rex gives him space to move and he sweeps you from the floor, supporting your entire weight on his forearms. He locks his hands on your hips so that he can maneuver you like a doll.

You open your legs eager for more. Those men were not quite finished with you.

Fives starts rocking your body on his dick and from there you can clearly feel it bumping on your G spot.

This sends you off the moon.

“More, Fives, fuck me…!”

Fives goes deeper and harder inside you, his nails sinking in the fold created by your thigh and pelvis.

“Do you enjoy it, sweet girl?” he says, almost out of breath.

You mutter, rolling your eyes back. His dick, hard and warm, feels so good inside you, pounding the walls of your needy pussy and filling you with pleasure.

“I t-think I’m gonna come…” he stutters increasing his speed.

“Fives, pull out. I’m not willing to let you cum inside her.” Says Rex serious. He is watching you from an angle of the fresher, grabbing his balls and giving himself pleasure.

The ARC trooper pulls out and ejaculates all over your abdomen, kissing you ferocely.

He puts you on the ground as he gives you another kiss on the cheek before you get spinned around by Jesse.

“Jesse I…”

“And where do you think you are going?” he says almost menacing.

He pulls you in for a quick kiss after which he bites into your neck, giving you myriads of tingles.

He turns you and bends you over completely, your mouth almost touching your knees.

He secures your hands in one of his, behind your back. You can’t move but with his feet he spreads your legs just enough to let him through.

The walls of your cunt are so tight in that position that you cannot process what you feel, you just feel everything: every vein of his big cock, every movement, every thrust.

Jesse is rough and he is destroying you while tickling your clit with his free hand.

He said it before, and you didn’t quite get it, but now you do: he wanted to fuck the shit out of you and he is delivering the promise.

“Jesse! F-fuck! If you keep going I- I might come a-again…” you whimper, tears spilling from your eyes.

He groans, releasing your hands and making you lift up.

Your naked bodies stick together as he grabs your neck with a hand and one of your breasts with the other, slowing pulling your nipple.

You are not escaping from that position, he has control over your body.

Rex and Fives come closer to you, intimidating you just a bit.

The Captain of the Five Oh First starts sucking your left nipple, biting into it and sending shivers down your spine.

You moan loudly.

“Shh, pretty girl, you don’t have to make noises!” Scolds you Fives, shutting your mouth with his tongue.

Jesse bangs you from behind at the same steady, rough rhythm, and you let out another orgasm as you feel the three men giving all these attentions to you, just you.

“Oh Maker…” he felt that too as your pussy is literally squeezing his dick.

Your legs are so tired that they start shaking.

You doubt you will walk again after that experience.

Jesse pulls out and, while jerking his wet dick, he makes you fall on your knees.

“Damn…Look at me girl!” he says while the free hand grabs your chin.

You lock eyes with him and a shower of cum lays on your face. You lick it off the angles of your mouth, smiling amused.

You look at Rex, more tired than ever. It was time to get back to your apartment for some well-deserved aftercare.

Fives sits on the ground while Jesse leans over the door for support. They are looking exhausting, their face sweathy and red.

“That was… another kind of storm.” You say, laughing at Rex.

“Indeed, princess!” shout both the ARC troopers simultaneously.

Cross-posted on AO3.

#star wars #the clone wars #Star Wars fic #captain rex #arc trooper fives #arc trooper jesse #f!reader x captain rex #f!reader x fives #f!reader x jesse #501th #fanfiction #501th battalion #clones #clone troopers #jango fett #boba fett #fives #Jesse #fives and Jesse

[limitlessgojo]

Blood Bound: Red Strings of Fate (Ch 9)

Warnings: Action, Coarse Language, Fighting, Descriptions of Blood

Previous Chapter: Red Strings of Fate

Next Chapter: Invisible Ties

Tags: Soulmates AU, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Fem!Reader

Taglist: @lessie-oxj @rizzo-nero @whoreuc @fkngkumiko @isl3t @gojoussunglasses @onepotatostand-blog @s-t-f-u-b-i-t-c-h @sunaswife

Notes: If you want to be tagged for every update, please mention it in the comments below ty <3

Chapter 9: Wait for Me

After the mission, you got back to the Kyoto High School campus. Both of you were still a little awkward, not knowing exactly how to proceed with your relationship. Are you dating now? Not necessarily.

Noritoshi reached out to you from behind, but thought better and retracted his hand. You seemed to have zoned out for the rest of the mission, so he thought it would be better to give you a bit of space.

You both were outside your dorm room after having submitted the report about how the mission went.

You turned back to face Noritoshi, “Thank you so much for accompanying me on my first ever mission senpai. It was definitely a different experience from just sparring with other jujutsu sorcerers. I’ll do my best to improve.”

You lowered your head, but he bent his knees so he could face you, “You definitely have talent and raw power. Please be more logical in your tactical and in-fight responses next time. Thank you for protecting me.” He spoke quietly so as to not disturb the other students who are already in bed.

You smiled tightly, “Just… doing my job.”

You looked up to face him. There was something cloudy and stormy in his expression that you couldn’t quite read.

He was such a hard man to read, Kamo Noritoshi. Now that you think about it, you really don’t know much about the man who is your soulmate.

Noritoshi pulled back with his usual solemn expression. “You should go on ahead and get some rest. Good night.”

“Good night Noritoshi senpai.” You weakly called out, before going back into your room. Your heart had never pounded this hard and fast before, you were sure. You had trouble going to sleep that night, remembering the second vision you both shared.

On the other hand Noritoshi’s head was spinning by the time he got back into his room. He could still feel the ghost of the kiss from the vision and wondered how it would feel to hold you close to him like that.

◇◇◇

During the weekend, Noritoshi went back to the Kamo Clan estate and told his father of everything that had occurred between the two of you. As soon as he finished his father softly slammed down a fist on his desk out of excitement.

“It’s been how many years since the last known living pair of soulmates existed? They were so highly regarded that most pairs chose to live in complete isolation out of fear of being targeted. We need to be careful, but this is truly a blessing from the heavens.” His father smiled.

Noritoshi’s dad pushed a book towards him. “We were able to find a very old record of soulmates from our clan’s history. Kamo no Hotaru. A man who lived quietly, after eloping with his soulmate away from the Kamo clan. His partner was said to be a woman from the Abe clan. They supposedly died in battle, according to records. This happened during the rise of curses right before the Heian era.” His father spoke solemnly.

Noritoshi felt chills run up his spine upon hearing his words. “The woman’s name is unknown. But her parents were known to have not approved of her involvement with Hotaru kun. This was as written in the diary entries of Hotaru. Curses and curse users alike were drawn towards their synergy and tried to break them apart or at least kill one of them.”

“They might have survived had they stayed with their families, but they chose love above all. Back then it was not yet widely known about how soulmates’ offsprings could have a power far greater than their parents’, but now we do. But even apart from that, a soulmate bond is said to make both halves grow stronger. So make sure that you don’t let go of her. Charm her and make sure she stays with you. A stronger bond will give you strength as a Jujutsu sorcerer.” His father orders him.

The words were swimming in Noritoshi’s head. But… “If it’s simply falling for her and making her fall for me, it should come naturally with time father. To be frank, I’ve been attracted to her since our first meeting. I will do my best.” Noritoshi said firmly.

◇◇◇

Days after your first mission, Noritoshi’s words from your first mission together still bothered you. It was so dumb on your part. “You don’t know me.” Those words just kept repeating in your mind. It wasn’t wrong.

Make no mistake, Noritoshi didn't mean to offend you at all. From his point of view, he only wanted you to tell him the real reason as to why you saved him without thinking of your actions. He didn't mean to hurt you with his words.

You tried to let it go, knowing that he was just extra worried at that time. But to be honest, it was something that still hung over you. You wished to know him better, not only as a soulmate, but also as a friend.

Everytime Noritoshi came around you and greeted you hello, your heart would tighten just a bit. He could start to feel the weighted heaviness on your soul that he didn't realize was yours via the bond.

He simply thought that he was also feeling down for no reason. It was a long way, distinguishing whose emotions were whose, as the bond is still so fresh between the two of you.

And so he gave his mother a call and scheduled a meetup with her.

“Hello? Mother. Yes, I am well. How are you? …. That’s good to hear. Are you free this weekend? …. Nothing really, I just wanted to see you. …. Yes, me too. …. All is going well here at school, you don’t have to worry I promise. … Yes father is okay. …. Thank you, I’ll see you this Saturday then. Goodbye.” Beep.

◇◇◇

In the following weeks, Noritoshi had been incredibly busy to say the least. He was finally getting promoted to a semi grade 1 as long as he does well in his next mission.

His father was constantly reminding him to make sure he makes you fall in love with him as his soulmate, and hurry it up so that the rest of the clan can meet you already. And he just really wanted to see his mother.

One afternoon you tried to cheer him up after noticing his bad moods. You made senpai some coffee and brought him pastries in your free time.

You sent him a text saying you had something for him. He replied that you could stay for a bit in his room.

“Pardon my intrusion!” You called out as you went in. The door was left unlocked for you. “Come in.” Noritoshi looked up tiredly. His eyes had heavy bags and he looked so exhausted.

“I’m sorry to be bothering you. I just brought some coffee and pastries here so that you can regain a bit of energy senpai.” you whispered, not wanting to be too loud for him.

“It’s not a bother. I’ve just been swamped with so much work as of the late.”

"Senpai, have you… considered getting a bit of rest first? The TOEIC is still a long way to go." You stared at the papers that read "TOEIC 990" stacked on top of his desk.

"I have other matters I’m attending to. Family business and other missions." He grunted while continuing to write down on his paper. He was definitely stressed and overworked.

Maybe he needed someone, like a family member. You tried to empathize with him, "I see. Have you heard from your mom and dad lately? I also understand if you're feeling homesick, I feel the same…" You trailed off upon seeing his face tighten at the mention of his mother.

Your heart dropped.

"That's none of your business." He whispered coldly without thinking.

Fuck y/n. You stepped on a landmine.

You inhaled sharply, backing away. “Ah, I’m so sorry to be intruding. I stepped out of bounds. Please get as much rest as you need.”

You quickly excused yourself from his room feeling so confused from his sudden cold demeanour.

Noritoshi reached out to you, “Wait! I didn’t-” but you already closed his door and stumbled out of his room faster than he could react.

He gave a deep sigh, not meaning to offend you or anything. He just wasn’t in the mood to be around anyone else, and that included you at the moment.

He was just feeling stressed, because he had to cancel his meetup with his mother since his father demanded to talk with him about other clan matters.

He groaned out in frustration. “I’ll have to talk and apologize to her later.” He noticed a heavy and sharp tugging at his heart. He dropped his pen in surprise and stared at his chest in confusion.

"This… these aren't my emotions…" it dawned on him finally. Finally, you both are starting to share very strong bursts of emotion.

Pain and sorrow. Your emotions washed over him like a tidal wave, so sudden that he didn't realize tears were running down one side of his left eye.

He felt guilt and regret like never before.

◇◇◇

A strong wave of regret and guilt stabbed through you. You were pretty sure that these were Noritoshi's emotions.

You finally started feeling something from his end, but you just felt heavy. Was it supposed to be tiring to be a fated pair? Or was it just the bond that was messing up both of your emotions?

You couldn’t even ask anyone else for help, because currently there are no known living soulmates. Besides you and Noritoshi that is.

◇◇◇

The next time you met each other, it was a bit awkward. You tried to give him space during the past few days, understanding that it must be what he needed.

After all, he didn't seem too keen on the way you tried to connect with him last time. You probably overstepped your boundaries. It's true, even though you're soulmates, you're still just friends at this stage.

But Noritoshi found himself looking for you. Trying to catch you in his free time, he finally found you in the weaponry, training with your twin blades.

He stared at your figure. You looked like you were dancing rather than fighting. Smaller daggers controlled by your cursed energy flew around you, covering for any blind spots.

They came to a halt as you set them down and deactivated your technique.

"May I help you Noritoshi senpai?" You asked without turning to look at him. He felt his throat tighten up.

"I came to apologise." Your fingers twitched as though itching to throw your dagger at him. But of course you would never.

"Ahhh, it's okay, Noritoshi senpai. I'm sorry for rudely not minding my own business. Even though we might be soulmates, you're not my boyfriend. We are just good friends aren't we?" You said as you finally turned to face him.

‘Set the boundaries and define the relationship’, you thought to yourself.

Every word you said felt like you were pushing the needle deeper in your heart. It hurt, and you both knew it.

He stepped towards you, standing inches away and shaking his head. "I took out my anger and stress on you, and that was wrong of me. I'm sorry. I do care about you deeply, and you're much more than a friend. You are a very special person to me.``

"Don't say words you don't mean Noritoshi senpai. Please." Your heart was slowly crumbling. He looked pained. "I am not lying. Please believe me.”

But you shook your head and stood your ground. You could feel a fraction of his emotions at this stage of the bond. And you knew in your heart that he was just as confused as you are, trying to feel his way into this relationship.

Noritoshi’s father’s words echoed in his head, ‘Don’t let her go.’

"Don't be unfair to me y/n. If I need time I need it. And I will surely fall for you. If you need time, I’ll also give it to you." He whispered out urgently. "We have a lifetime together."

How did he always sound so sure of himself? Of the future for both of you? You looked back up at him with teary eyes. It sounded so wrong, like he was forcing himself to love you just for the sake of the bond. Does that even count...

"To be honest with you, I don't know what to feel right now senpai." Your voice cracked. His heart broke upon seeing you like this. But nothing can be done.

Does the knowledge of a soulbond always bring a pair together or does it doom two people who are not yet ready to love?

"Wait for me." He promised as he took your hands in his and looked you in the eyes. Your marks felt warm.

You finally felt yourself calm down. And it was so frustrating that you're becoming so dependent on him, turning to him for physical affection. He was the cause of your sorrows and joys altogether.

Blood Bound: Table of Contents

#kamo noritoshi #blood bound #red strings of fate #noritoshi x reader #jujutsu kaisen #noritoshi angst #mahito #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk fic #kamo noritoshi x reader #noritoshi x y/n #noritoshi fluff #kamo noritoshi x you #jjk kamo #noritoshi x you

[tobesobri]

𝒜hh! It’s finally here and I feel very bittersweet about the end of this story. On one hand, this is the first story I had a regular upload schedule with and actually completed in a timely matter so it feels like a big accomplishment to me and I’m excited to get to focus on other things i’ve been working on now! But, at the same time, I love this story and these characters so much so it’s also quite sad that it’s over HOWEVER I am always open to doing little blurbs and extra stuff like that with this story whenever you guys would like to! Okay, I’m gonna go now but I hope you all enjoy this last chapter! It turned out a lot longer than I expected it to so I’m sorry for that lol anyway, I’d love to hear your thoughts about this story or just this chapter or whatever you want! thank you for all the love throughout this entire process, it’s been the highlight of my quarantine bhjhbdc 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: IT’S ONLY HUMAN (9.4K)

Harry and Y/N are friends…. with benefits, but not the kinds you’re thinking of.

🥥MASTERLIST 🌃INSPO TAG 🌻ASK TAG 💃PLAYLIST 🛌

After dinner, he spread her out on the bed and made her come again, this time while she was wearing his robe. And although it killed him to know how wet she was and not do anything about it, his fears far outweighed his need to go any further. 

They laid together under the covers quietly for a little while afterward while he showed her what she tasted like and they both attempted to catch their breath, not that making out again was helping. But, they really couldn’t keep their mouths or hands off of each other. 

It wasn’t until she slipped her fingers toward the band of his boxer-briefs that everything slowed back down. He pulled away from her and grabbed her wrist before she managed to sneak any farther down his body. Bringing her hand up to his mouth, he kissed her palm to soothe the confused and rejected expression on her face. 

“M’too tired.” He whispered against her skin, hoping that would be good enough. He wasn’t as tired as he claimed, he just wasn’t quite ready to go there with her yet. 

“You don’t have to do anything.” She pleaded, just wanting to give him anything she possibly could. 

He shook his head, however, and hid his eyes, giving her hand back to her, “I’m sorry.” 

Her cheeks immediately flushed and she hated how embarrassed she felt because he was allowed to say no, and she knew that more than anyone, but she couldn’t help it. She didn’t like putting herself out there as it was and allowing herself to get so lost in the moment she might have made him uncomfortable? It didn’t feel good. 

“I just,” Harry sighed because even though it was dark in his bedroom, he still saw the look on her face and he knew how he would feel if he was in her position. “I didn't do any of this so you’d repay me, Y/N.” 

“But I want to.”

He intertwined his fingers with hers and brought the back of her hand to his lips, kissing his gently, “I know... I just don’t want you to.”

She stared at him blankly then, having no clue what he meant by that but also knowing that was the end of the discussion. So she nodded and whispered, “Okay,” and let it go. 

But when she escaped to the bathroom to clean herself up and get a breath of fresh air again, she really couldn’t help wondering why he didn’t want her to. She figured at first that he was still worried about hurting her, as he always had been, but then her mind traveled elsewhere the more she thought about it. She wondered if he would ever have proper sex with her knowing what he knew about her past. If he worried that the only thing he’d be able to think of when he was looking in her eyes while being inside of her was what she’d gone through. And she fucking hated it. 

She splashed water over her face before she started regretting ever telling him anything. She was not falling back into the same pit as before. They were being real with each other now. And as much as the nerves overwhelmed her, she just needed to know why for her own sake. 

With a script going on in her head for what she’d say to Harry, she flipped off the bathroom light and stepped back into his room. She got a few steps in toward his bed until she realized he was out cold. His chest moved at a steady pace as he laid on his back and his eyes were fluttered shut peacefully. He really had been tired, she supposed. 

Sighing, she walked into his closet and replaced his robe onto the hanger where she’d found it before removing her bra and replacing it with one of his shirts. She stood at the windows for a moment, dividing her attention between the all-too-familiar view of L.A. and of Harry. 

After about five minutes, he rolled onto his side and pulled a pillow into his arms. She watched him cuddle into it, holding onto it for dear life while he continued to sleep. Smiling to herself, she walked back over to her side of the bed and crawled under the covers with him again, slowly pulling the pillow out from under his arms. She replaced every inch of it with herself until she finally got the pillow out the way and his arms wrapped around her body instead. He nuzzled his face into her neck with a soft hum when she brought her hand to the top of his head and played with his hair. 

Whatever his reason was she’d get it out of him tomorrow. 

He was already in the shower when she got up the next morning and after an entire five minutes of wondering how much he’d hate her for joining him, she got out of bed and went downstairs for a glass of water. 

While she tidied his kitchen, fixing the stack of cookbooks that had gone astray again, his doorbell rang. After she panicked about it for several seconds, she set her glass of water down and went to deal with it. The only thing that calmed her nerves was knowing that whoever was at his front door knew the code to get into his gate and was an approved person to be visiting Harry. And it definitely wasn’t Will. 

Still, she peeked out the front windows first just to see who it was before she opened the door. Upon finding a semi-familiar face, her body fell out of fight-or-flight mode. It was just Harry’s manager. 

He gave her a once over once she finally opened the door and it was then that she realized she was still in Harry’s shirt... and only Harry’s shirt. 

“Sorry, is Harry here?” Jeff asked, his eyes landing on hers again. 

“He’s in the shower. Did you want to come in and wait?” She felt weird about gatekeeping Harry’s house because even though it felt like her home too, it wasn’t. It was weird letting him in as if it was her house. 

Jeff stared at her in disbelief for a moment before he shook his head and walked through the front door after she’d given him space to do so. Shutting the door and locking it again, she turned back to face Jeff, who was, once again, staring oddly at her. 

“Sorry I just... when did this happen?” He motioned to her current attire. When she looked down at herself and didn’t say anything for a moment, he continued. “I mean, I know you two were... but I was under the impression it was complicated.” 

“It’s, uh... not that complicated anymore.” 

Jeff nodded in agreement, “Thank god. Wasn’t kidding when I said he was being a pain in the ass.” He began wandering towards the kitchen and she followed after a moment. 

“He didn’t tell me you were coming over, so I’m gonna go put pants on.” She announced once she caught up to him just as he grabbed a juice from Harry’s fridge. 

“He probably just forgot.” Jeff shrugged, taking a swig from the bottle, “Tell him to hurry his ass up while you're at it.” 

Smiling at him, she then made her way upstairs quickly. She pulled on her spare jeans and walked up cautiously to the bathroom door. The shower wasn’t running anymore so she knocked, not entirely sure what she would have done if he was still in the shower. He wouldn’t have been able to hear her through the closed door and just the thought of opening it and seeing him in all his naked-glory gave her incredible anxiety. And it was mostly for the fact that it was still smack dab in the middle of her mind that he didn’t want to have sex with her and she still didn’t know why. 

Harry pulled the handle and let the door fall open for her as he retreated back in front of the mirror. He had a towel wrapped around his lower half like he always did post-shower and gave her a questioning look. 

“Um...” she dragged her eyes back to his face, “Your manager’s here? In the kitchen.” 

After a brief moment of confusion, he muttered, “Shit,” and started towards her. Stepping out of the way, she let him pass by so he could put clothes on and meet Jeff downstairs. What she didn’t expect, however, was for him to step into his closet, not even bothering to shut the door behind him, and drop his towel right there in front of her. After staring blankly at his backside for an entire heart-pounding five seconds, she averted her gaze. 

He got dressed quickly, only throwing on underwear and a pair of grey joggers before stepping back into his bedroom. “Sorry, I forgot he was coming over.” 

She scratched her fingernails along the seams of her pants and chewed on her bottom lip while he grabbed his phone off the charger. When he turned to face her again, he knew something was up. 

“Everything alright?” 

Nodding, she halted her nervous picking at her jeans and exhaled, “Yeah, it’s just... can we talk afterward?” 

“‘Bout what?” He seemed to have no clue what she could possibly want to talk to him about, but she was sure he did have some semblance of a clue. Harry wasn’t stupid. 

She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously and cleared her throat to speak but it wasn’t her voice ringing through the room next, rather Jeff’s as he yelled up the stairs. 

“Stop fucking and get down here! I have to leave in twenty!” His voice didn't make Y/N cringe as much as what he said did. They weren’t doing whatever Jeff thought they were, as much as Y/N wished he had, in fact, interrupted something, they just simply weren't. And Y/N desperately wanted to know why. 

Harry sighed and ran his fingers through his hair as he looked at her again from across the room, “You’re welcome to come down, we’re just discussing promotional stuff.” 

Her heart sank when he didn’t mention their previous conversation at all as he turned to leave the room. And she thought he might not ever again until he paused in the doorway and turned right back around in a huff of air and with shaking hands. 

“I know what you want to talk about. When he’s gone, I promise we will.” 

It was enough to get her through the entire time Jeff was over and after she brushed her teeth and mentally prepared what she’d say to Harry, she joined them downstairs cautiously. She still wasn’t used to being with Harry when they weren’t alone and it made her feel out of place when she joined them in the living room and sat on the complete opposite end of the couch from Harry. 

It felt like she still had to keep a secret, even though Jeff apparently knew everything. Maybe that was another thing they had to talk about... what were they exactly? They both said they loved each other, but she still didn’t consider Harry her boyfriend. 

Jeff gave her a funny look as she sat down, which was transferred to Harry almost immediately. A wave of awkwardness crashed over the entire room until Harry cleared his throat. 

“Uh, so yeah, I’m fine with those... what about the release date though? I don’t agree with next summer.” 

Harry and Jeff went on for a while, going between what promo events they wanted to do and trying to decide on a reasonable release for the album. And while Y/N tried to follow, she just simply couldn’t, especially when Harry’s phone dinged and he glanced her way with an anxiety-inducing look of bewilderment. 

“It’s Will,” Harry glanced down at his phone again, pausing the previous conversation as he skimmed the text one more time before handing the device over to Y/N for her to read it herself. 

(Will, 11:46 a.m.) 

Hey, sorry I bailed on your surprise party. I’m sure Y/N told you what happened. I know you’ve turned down all my offers recently, but I really want to make it up to you and I could use the company. Everyone’s going to be home tonight if you want to come over around six? 

She’d been hoping when Will said he’d be home tonight, that he meant he’d be home with only enough time to spare to get ready for bed so he’d be well rested for work tomorrow. Not that he’d be inviting Harry over when all she wanted to do was feed her roommates another excuse and sleep in Harry’s bed tonight, not her own. Where they could figure things out and hopefully go someplace new that wasn’t as feasible in her own bed. 

It also put a bitter taste in her mouth to read that Harry had been refusing Will’s previous invites to come over. She had no right to, but she had still hoped one night Harry would have shown up at her apartment anyway after she’d left him and avoided his texts. And she hated that she used his inaction as further proof that he didn’t feel anything towards her in that way. Now she understood why he didn’t. 

Because Harry would have let her go too, if he thought in doing so it would make her happy, no matter how much he needed her. And she couldn’t blame him for that. She also couldn’t blame him for being mad or not wanting to see her when she left without talking to him first. When she asked him to forget about their first kiss like it was meaningless to her. When she didn’t give him a single reason why she didn’t want him to move out. 

“What should I say?” Harry asked as she returned his phone. 

She shrugged, “Do you want to come over?” 

She could tell the same thoughts were flashing through his mind too, that, no, he didn’t really want to. He wanted to spend every waking minute of the rest of their peaceful Sunday with Y/N and no one else. But formulating some elaborate lie as to why both Y/N and Harry wouldn’t be at the apartment seemed almost impossible. 

Harry typed away in his phone for a moment before clicking it off after he sent the message, “Suppose I should get you home soon then?” 

She nodded but didn’t really want to agree. She needed to at least make it look like she’d been in her own room since Will left her there yesterday morning. And she definitely needed to be there whenever Will got back. 

“Wait a second,” Jeff sat forward, interrupting, “you two still haven’t told anyone about... this?” He motioned between the both of them and Y/N was relieved she wasn’t the only one confused as to what Harry and her were. 

Harry sighed and leaned back against the couch, “It kinda just happened.” 

It did just happen. But they did not just happen. They started over a month ago now. It used to be a secret because neither one of them wanted to explain the sad situation they were in. That both of them were so fucking lonely they couldn’t sleep without each other. That they weren’t keeping secret hookups from everyone. Now, however, there wasn’t really a reason to hide anymore. 

Even thinking about telling Will, however, made Y/N’s heart race. She’d already lied about it once, she couldn’t imagine how mad he’d be to find out the truth. 

“Are you going to? Because that’s a whole PR nightmare...” Jeff glanced towards Y/N, “on second thought... maybe you should keep it just between you two.” 

Harry rolled his eyes, “Thanks for the wonderful advice.” 

It was quiet for a moment until Y/N glanced at Harry and then he found her eyes too and gave her a reassuring smile, “S’up to you. They're your roommates.” 

It was up to her. Harry didn’t care either way. But what would they say if they did tell the three people she lived with? That they were dating? That it just happened? 

“I’m gonna go take a shower.” She mumbled before getting up from the couch. Harry eyed her carefully as she walked past him and until he could no longer see her as she disappeared up the stairs. 

“Not a fine line with her anymore then, huh?” Jeff teased.

Harry threw a pillow at his face, “Shut up.” Then after a moment, changed the subject, “I was thinking December next year actually...” 

Y/N paused at the doorway when she heard Jeff and Harry’s muffled voices at the end of the stairs, and, peeking out from his bedroom, saw them as they stood at Harry’s front entrance, Jeff’s hand on the knob ready to leave. 

Her shower had been quick on account of her only bringing a few essentials and nothing else. She didn’t shave or put on a face mask. Just washed everything in about seven minutes, and got out. And now she was hiding behind a wall, eavesdropping on their conversation while her wet hair soaked into the back of her shirt. 

“See you tomorrow then.” Jeff assured, “And tell your girlfriend I said sorry for giving you guys shitty advice.” 

Your. Girlfriend.

She tensed up awaiting Harry’s response to that.

He chuckled and she feared for the worse. “My girlfriend isn’t my girlfriend yet.” 

“You two need to figure your shit out already. I’m exhausted.” 

“Planning on it.” Harry mumbled so that Y/N could just barely make it out. But when it registered what he said, she felt that same old fluttering feeling in her stomach that only Harry knew how to cause. 

“Hope so. Don’t want you to come in tomorrow crying your eyes out again, alright?” And then the fluttering shifted upwards to her chest. Heartbreak. 

She didn’t hear anything else besides Harry’s familiar exasperated chuckling and a very faint, “Okay,” before the front door opened and then shut a few seconds later. And when she peeked out again, Harry stood alone in the foyer. She watched him for a moment as he just seemed to stare off into space, but she couldn’t be sure the way his back faced her. It said more than enough though. He was tense. 

Jeff was gone and he promised to talk. She almost felt like telling him they could do it some other time. But not communicating wasn't exactly their thing anymore. 

Mustering all the confidence she could, she made her way down the stairs, catching his attention at the halfway point when he turned to face her in the, now quiet, entryway. 

She stopped when she made it to the bottom and caved. No words came out, not even the ones she wanted to start with, teasing him about the girlfriend thing. Just... nothingness. 

So he said something first, but it wasn’t without sucking in a breath of air and hiding his shaky hands in his pockets, “It’s not because I don’t want you, Y/N, believe me, I do. I always have.” 

Her words got stuck again as she just stared at him, not even sure where to begin, but then his voice took over once more.

“I’m just scared that if I make the wrong move and hurt you, you’ll think of me differently... and I don’t want that.” 

He didn’t want her to think of him differently. To associate him with her past in any way. She thought back to when they’d been fighting over that pillow and he made the wrong move. Is that why he was so scared? He didn’t want to do that again? 

She took the last few steps toward him until she was only inches away. “Even if that happens, Harry, I won’t think of you any differently. You don’t think of me any differently, do you?” 

He shook his head immediately, but it seemed as if his words were caught on his tongue now too as his eyes began to glass over. 

“I trust you more than I’ve ever trusted anyone.” She began again, reaching her hand up to wipe away the wetness underneath his eye when the panicking tear had finally escaped. “You’re not him.” 

He nodded, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment and when he opened them again, they weren’t as full of sadness and anxiety. “I know, but what if I--” 

She pressed her thumb against his lips and he stopped talking. “You won’t. I do want you too, you know.” 

When he laughed, she made it a point to remember his smile because it seemed like she’d been going without it recently for way too long. She glanced up at his eyes when the noise faded, just before pulling him into her arms. 

She wasn’t much of a hugger, but she supposed it was just another thing about her that Harry had managed to dismantle. Or maybe it was her all this time, breaking down all of her own comfort zones with a little bit of his help along the way. 

He nuzzled his face into her neck at first, breathing her in as he wrapped his arms around her too and brought her closer. 

“Maybe we can try tonight?” He whispered softly after a moment, his lips at her ear. 

“At my place?”

He shrugged, “We’re going to tell them, aren’t we?”

There was the other thing they hadn’t discussed yet. 

“What exactly would we say if we did?” She asked.

Harry thought about it for a moment, burying his face again before resting his chin on her shoulder. “They don’t have to know everything.”

She shook both of them laughing, “That still doesn’t answer my question.” 

He pulled back from her embrace until he was able to look into her eyes again. “We can just tell them we’ve been seeing each other. And that I asked you to be my girlfriend.” 

She didn’t want a big, cheesy smile to flood her entire face, but her mouth completely betrayed her. “I don’t recall you ever asking me that...” 

“I’m asking you now... will you?” 

Y/N also hated labeling things. But being Harry’s girlfriend was an exception she’d more than allow. 

“I guess.” She rolled her eyes dramatically like she didn’t actually care as much as she did. It was her thing though and she never failed to make Harry laugh, so he’d allow that too. 

“I guess,” he parroted, in a higher-pitched tone to mock her playfully. “I guess we’re dating now then and I guess I’ll come over and have sex with you too.” 

She didn’t love him any more than she did at that moment. 

After making out in the kitchen while they unsuccessfully made waffles, and after going through Starbucks instead and eating in the front seat of his car while watching the freeway, it was past two o’clock and her nerves were on fire thinking about making it home before Will did. 

She still wasn’t sure about telling everyone, and how that might change things with Harry, so as far as she was concerned, she was keeping it a secret until she was absolutely sure she no longer wanted it to be. 

So after lazing around with Harry on his bed for the rest of the afternoon, he drove her home. 

And six o’clock came a lot slower than it ever had. Will got home around five-thirty, giving Y/N plenty of time to make her room look lived in and for her to start some laundry. And change her clothes so that every inch of her didn’t ooze Harry. 

Violet and James arrived shortly after, Violet because she’d recently been going home on the weekends to take care of her grandma and James because he was James and didn’t spend much time at the apartment anyway. But also because he had his own weekend getaway with his girlfriend. 

Y/N joined them when she smelled Chinese takeout. 

Will pulled her against his side, draping his arm around her shoulder, once she was close enough. “I know we all work tomorrow but I really needed to just hang out tonight after everything. So thanks for being here... even though yall live here.” 

Violet began digging into the containers as Will pulled his arm away from Y/N to do the same just before a lightbulb went off in his head, “Oh, I also invited Harry and he said he’d come, but,” Will checked his watch, “he’s late.” 

Y/N glanced at the clock on the stove to confirm it. He was late. By almost ten minutes. She hadn’t realized the time until now even though it had been the only thing on her mind all day. 

Her appetite plummeted when she started worrying about why he was late. Eight minutes wasn’t anything to lose her mind over, she knew that, but considering what they’d discussed earlier, she began to think that he was, for lack of a better term, chickening out. 

He was thirteen minutes late when he finally arrived, blaming it on the fact that he didn’t think about bringing anything until he was already halfway to their apartment and then made a quick stop. When he pulled out a bag of Hershey Kisses and set them in front of Y/N on the counter, however, she forgave him for the five minutes he made her spend worrying. 

He also brought two bottles of wine and a family-sized bag of spicy Doritios with him too. So it was officially a party. 

Everyone took their food to the dining table and Y/N tried not to make it obvious she was headed straight for the seat beside Harry. They’d never sat not on opposite sides, but they’d also never been officially dating either. 

The opportunity to spill everything never really came the way Y/N would have liked it to. And, sure, she was using that as her excuse, but Violet was also extremely chatty, more than usual. 

After a couple minutes, when they’d all already made a dent in their meals, Y/N tuned everyone out and got lost in her head. Her right hand rested on her thigh while she twirled chow-mein around her fork with the other. She knew Harry would never do it for her, unless she explicitly asked him to, and seeing as she hadn’t done that beforehand, telling her roommates was solely up to her. And she didn’t have the balls to do that yet. 

She felt his fingers brush against hers under the table and it brought her out of her reprieve, even more so when Harry wrapped his hand completely around hers, lacing their fingers on top of her leg and giving her a gentle squeeze. 

Glancing at him, however, he pretended like nothing was happening under the table at all as he continued eating and never once met her eyes. He just wanted her to know that she didn’t have to say anything if she didn’t want to, and he was okay no matter what she decided. With his hand still firmly around hers, it was enough reassurance to actually eat the noodles she’d been absently playing with. 

A loud snore rang through the living room just moments before Will rolled over on his side and his back faced the only two people still awake. Her other two roommates already retreated to their bedrooms once the movie ended, but Will hadn’t made it that far. He had passed out about halfway through and, apart from a few seconds ago, hadn’t made a sound or moved the entire time since. 

It was nearing nine o’clock when Y/N took herself and her big fluffy blanket to Harry’s couch, sitting right beside him as she covered both of them in it and cuddled into his side. She’d wanted to do it since she was forced into a spot nowhere near him, but considering her inability to tell her roommates about her and Harry, she had to suffer through the entire movie sitting next to Violet. 

Now, however, she wasted no time getting comfortable and neither did he. Sure, she still glanced over at Will a lot, just to make sure, but she also wouldn’t mind too much if he woke up and found them together. 

Harry wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close so that she was using his chest as a pillow while they watched what was left of a Fresh Prince of Bel-Air episode. He gave her a suspicious look when he heard crinkling coming from underneath the blanket, but his questions were answered when her hand poked out from underneath and she held a Hershey’s kiss right in front of his lips. Grinning, he opened his mouth and let her pop the piece of candy in. She was still just as weird as she always was and he was still just as in love with it and with her. 

But when she pushed up to connect their mouths, after giving Will another quick glance, he was positive she just wanted him to taste like chocolate when she kissed him. He didn’t really care that much though, he’d wanted to kiss her all night anyway. 

It went from an innocent, soft kiss to something deeper a lot faster than either of them intended. It suddenly became the way they kissed each other only when no one else was around, and yet they were doing it right in the middle of her apartment, where Violet could walk out and see them or Will could turn over and catch them. And she suddenly just... didn't really care. 

But then Harry’s hand was on her thigh, his fingertips trailing north someplace they’d already explored before and she quickly grabbed his wrist in a gasp and broke away from him. “Can we try now?” She whispered. 

He looked terrified but he still nodded, he still followed as she pulled them both up from the couch, as she laced her fingers with his and led the way to her bedroom. Even though his nerves were on fire, he still closed the door behind them when she was far too concerned with attaching their lips again. He was thankful for it, though, when she pushed him against the door and a gasping noise came out of him that might’ve woken everyone in the apartment if her mouth hadn’t muffled it. 

“Do you have um...? Because I don't...” She whispered, pulling away but keeping her eyes glued to his lips. Overthinking every little detail about this very moment had become her pastime earlier in the day, and amongst stressing about whether or not Harry would let her keep the lights off, she worried about protection and her lack thereof. She never really needed it and hoped Harry was more prepared than she was. 

His hand slipped from her face to his front pocket where he dug out two condoms and held them up to her. “I didn't go to the store to buy your favorite candy... realized when I was about two minutes away that I didn’t bring any.” 

It oddly soothed her nerves that he went out of his way to get them. That he could have come here without them and use that as another reason not to sleep with her. He was, most definitely not, chickening out. 

She took them from him and ventured further into her room, leaving him with his back pressed against the door, watching her curiously as she set the condoms down on her bedside table and flipped her lamp off that she’d left on from earlier. 

“Is that okay?” She asked and even though his eyes were still adjusting to the darkness engulfing them, he could still tell she’d turned to face him again. Slowly, he stepped up to her, making out her features when he was close enough to tuck her hair behind her ear. 

“Whatever makes you comfortable is always okay, Y/N.” He felt her smile with his thumb pressed to her cheek more than he saw it, especially when it disappeared as she grabbed the hem of her shirt and made room between them again as she pulled it over her head. 

He sucked in a breath of air watching her, the dim light annoyed him, but her needs came first, way before his own selfish need to see her properly did. Maybe one day she’d be fine with that, but he respected that right now she wasn’t. 

It didn’t matter when he felt her fingertips glide down his arms until she wrapped them around his wrists and pulled his hands up to her waist. Maybe one day he’d touch her without her guiding him, too. 

They had all the time in the world to get it right, he supposed. 

His hands slipped up her sides, his thumbs grazing the underwire of her bra, having no idea if she was okay with taking it off. It escaped his mind when she moved her hands from his wrists to her jeans and before she even got the button undone, his hands came over the top of hers, gently pushing her aside so he could at least do one thing himself. 

Her heart raced while he slowly undid the zip and then tucked his fingers under the band at her hips, tugging her jeans off. As soon as he had them down to her thighs, she sat on the edge of her bed, gripping his shoulder for support as he slid them off and into the pile with her shirt.    

It quickly gained a couple more pieces of fabric as he pulled his own shirt off and she dealt with his pants, too. Soon enough, they were on the same playing field and he gained a bit more courage as he kissed her again, slowly laying her back on the bed and bringing his knee up to the mattress next to her for better leverage. 

He had no idea if he was going too fast or too slow, but he trusted her to tell him if it was too much. 

So when she pressed her hands flat onto his chest and pushed him away, he nearly had a heart attack. 

“Sorry,” she mumbled, seeing the outline of both confusion and terror on his face, “can we get under the blanket? I’m cold.” 

There was no subtlety in the way he sighed, relieved she hadn’t pushed him away for the other reasons he had feared. He whispered, “Okay,” against her lips and moved. Standing away from her, he gave her room to crawl under the covers, maneuvering the pillows under her head until she was comfortable and then folded the blanket over to invite him in. 

Despite it being objectively chilly in their apartment, Harry didn’t exactly share her concerns. His body temperature just seemed to increase the closer he got to her, reaching an all-time high when he got back into bed with her and she wasted no time picking up where they left off. 

His skin burned everywhere she touched him. When she gripped his biceps and just about forced him back on top of her, when her fingertips traced over his butterfly tattoo in a way he was familiar with. When her hands finally settled at the back of his neck and she played with the ends of his hair while they kissed. 

He took some of the lead again, moving so that he settled between her legs and reached his hand down to her thigh to let her know it was okay to wrap herself around him. And when they were that close, it was easy to feel just how hot Harry had gotten. 

And when she felt him, there was no stopping the moan that escaped from her lips, even though she had no idea where it came from. It almost sounded foreign, like Harry had been the one moaning, not her, but unless he knew how to throw his voice, she knew that it was most definitely not him that made that ungodly sound. 

Smiling against her mouth, he pressed his hips into her a little more and they both rather quickly warmed up to the idea of having fewer layers between them already. 

While he kissed her and while his hands wandered, particularly to her chest, she reached over and blindly sought out the condoms, her fingers traveling along the wooden top of her nightstand a few frustrating moments until she finally grazed the foil packaging. And then she tucked them right into Harry’s hand. 

He took the hint, although hesitantly, and sat back on his knees. While he tore along the perforation to separate the two he brought--just in case--she sat in restless anticipation, admiring the way what little light there was reflected off his skin. She thought about being with him like this way too often, more than she’d ever admit to him. She thought about his shoulders and his arms that spent the past month holding her so innocently and how much she wished she had other memories that involved his arms. But, now, here she was, tracing the curves of his muscles all the way down to where he was currently preoccupied. 

And well... shit.

Harry was anything but small. 

“Everything alright?” He asked, only glancing at her while most of his focus remained on sliding the condom on himself, but he could still tell she’d tensed up a bit. 

Swallowing, her eyes flickered towards his face again. “It’s probably obvious but um... I’ve never actually... besides...” 

That seemed to do the trick of putting his entire focus straight on her as his fingers froze in place and his nostrils flared. She couldn’t quite tell if it was in a bad way or not yet, not until he opened his mouth. 

“If you don’t want to--” 

“No. I do.” 

He nodded slightly, fitting the condom on all the way finally and sighed, “I’ll be careful, I promise.” 

Before he made any of the moves towards her that she desperately wanted him to, he slipped himself out of his boxers and joined them with their mixed pile of clothes. She couldn’t quite tell which she enjoyed more, his jeans on her floor or her dress on his. 

Right when she thought he was coming back to kiss her, he instead spread himself down the length of the bed and settled his shoulders between her legs, not at all unlike he had last night. He worked a lot quicker though, possibly because he knew he’d made her wait long enough and because he was also sick of waiting. But, making sure she was more than ready for him was currently at the top of his priorities list. 

He tucked his index finger underneath her panties and pulled them to the side, causing her to squirm in a way he was already used to. Holding her down, he made himself at home all over again. She was already wet, that much he knew, but it didn’t take long before she turned into a puddle around his fingertips and he figured there was no point in waiting any longer. 

Fitting his hips back between her legs, he kissed her cheek softly and then brushed his lips past her ear. “I need you to tell me if you want to stop, okay? Don’t let me keep going if you don’t want to.” 

The bubbling pressure in her stomach got so bad it made her dizzy, but she loved every second of it because he was making her feel that way. Although, it did concern her when he hadn’t even really done anything yet and she was already that much of a mess for him. 

She nodded when he came back to look into her eyes, eyes that he got lost in one too many times. He didn’t see them all that clearly now, but just enough shone through the darkness to assure him that she would do what he asked. 

His lips were at her mouth next, kissing her softly as his hand disappeared under the covers between them until she felt him pushing her legs further apart, slipping her panties out of the way again. And then it really was him moaning when he guided himself almost painfully slowly inside of her. She dug her nails into his back and kissed him harder to subside the pain of him stretching her out but never once did she want him to stop. 

He did, however, when she gasped and he felt her tensing up around him, making it impossible for him to go any further even if he wanted to. 

He pulled his lips away and used his free hand to swipe loose strands of hair from her face, “Need me to stop?” 

“No, just...” she sighed, not wanting to admit what she was about to admit, knowing it would possibly freak him out, but she felt like she had to, “you’re kind of abnormally... big and it hurts a little.” 

The little smirk on his face lasted for about half a second and before he could say anything, she cut him off just as he opened his mouth. “But I don’t want you to stop.” 

Sighing, he adjusted his weight on top of her, “You have to relax then, Y/N. It’ll hurt worse if you don’t and I don’t want that.” 

Nodding, she knew he was right and she knew he wasn’t doing anything else until she did. So, she closed her eyes and focused on her breathing, inhaling deep and exhaling all of her doubts and her worries. Once he felt her body start to unwind itself again, he got right back to it. Until he was muffling the noise coming out of his mouth as he filled her up as far as he could until finally bottoming out. 

He stayed there for a moment, contemplating on telling her how good she felt. Good didn’t even begin to cover it though. He couldn’t even think of the right word. Hell, he couldn't even think straight to begin with. She took him right back to that summery day on the beach again in his head. She was warm like the bright sun reflecting off the waves. Soft like the sand under his fingertips. He could stay there for hours. 

Instead, he only stayed there for a few more moments, until he was confident she was somewhat accustomed to him and then he did it all over again. Using his hips to slide out and then right back into her only a smidge faster this time. She still gasped into his mouth, still dug her fingernails into his skin, but she had completely let go this time. 

A few more times exactly like that and then she was in his ear, pleading with him to, “please go faster, I’m okay. Just... please Harry.” 

He did as she asked almost immediately, picking up the pace with each and every thrust as she continued to beg him to go faster. It wasn’t until he adjusted his weight, his arms cramping in their current position, that he was able to get a little deeper, that she moaned so loud he had to clamp his hand down over her mouth before she woke up not only her roommates, but the entire floor. If they were at his house, he would have let her scream all she wanted and he would’ve basked in it too because he already knew it took a lot to get anything out of her. So hearing her now turned him on more than ever before--if that were possible. 

He grinned cockily as he continued to hit the same spot that made her moan in the first place, and that continued to make her eyes roll back in her head. “Feels good?” He asked, his voice shaky with his motions and she just nodded, still with her eyes closed and his hand over her mouth. Giggling, he slipped his hand away and kissed her again. 

It didn’t take too long, but they were both close to losing all control in a matter of seconds when she wrapped a hand around his bicep and asked him to stop. And he did, straight away without a second thought, pulling out and searching her face to make sure she was alright. 

Her eyes were still fluttered shut as she breathed heavily through her mouth, but once she finally found her words, they came out as a self-conscious whisper. “Can I get on top?” 

It wasn’t that she was uncomfortable, per se. Overwhelmed was a better description. And when she was overwhelmed, her mind liked to kick into overdrive. Maybe she’d asked too much of Harry too soon, or it was the fact that she couldn’t keep her eyes open, but she knew she’d just feel better if she was the one with more control again. 

He nodded, “Sure.” Even though he was a lot more into the idea than he was letting on. He had no clue she’d be into riding him or they might’ve been doing that all along. It didn’t matter now though, as he held her close to support her weight and flipped them over so that he was on his back now and she straddled his waist. 

He kicked off as much of the blanket as he could from his legs while she made sure it was firmly wrapped around herself and he helped as she fit him back into place, nearly slipping off the edge early when he felt her fingers on him for the first time. 

And then they were picking up where they left off, but it felt a million times more amazing, again, if that were even possible. His hands slipped down to her waist, digging his fingers in and guiding her. He couldn’t quite help the way his hips bucked up into her when she didn’t go fast enough, but he also didn’t want to make her do something she didn’t want to do. So he dealt with it, bit down on his lip until he nearly drew blood, and sunk into her pillows with his eyebrows pulled tight. Because, fuck, she felt amazing but also, fuck, he wanted so much more. 

She planted her hands right on top of the butterfly, feeling how slick his skin was with sweat and not being as insecure about her own on her forehead. She felt his leg twitch from underneath her while she rode him, knowing she wasn’t doing enough, not at all like he’d been doing. But the new position made her feel so much better and watching him writhing below her was oddly satisfying. 

“Shit,” he whined suddenly, his eyes peeking out at her only briefly before his head fell back again. “Come’ere, please.” His begging came with his hands slipping up her belly and around to her back until she was laying on top of him, wrapping her arms up under his neck as she shared some of the control with him again. 

His fingers were back at her hips within a millisecond, thrusting up into her this time just as quickly as he’d gone when their roles were reversed. She buried her head in the crook of his neck after kissing him when she could no longer hold on. When neither of them could. When he was gasping for air and she was nearly tearing his hair out, whispering how much she loved him in his ear as he took them both up to the clouds. 

His hips stopped, slamming against her as he buried himself deep again and came just as she did, having to muffle his moans into her shoulder while tears stung his eyes and he had no fucking idea he was crying until she lifted herself to look at him and wiped at his cheeks. 

“Are you okay?” She whispered. He hadn’t even pulled out of her yet and he was fucking crying. 

Lifting his own hand to his face, while the other one remained on her hip, he hid in embarrassment, trying to make his stupid reaction go away. He’d never cried before and wasn’t sure why he was now. 

“Hey,” she pouted, pulling at his wrist to get him to stop. He looked at her through glassy eyes while she held onto his hand, kissing the back of it to calm him down. 

“Sorry. I... don’t know where that came from.”

“It’s okay." She assured. "If it’s any consolation, I like you even more now.” 

When he laughed, she became all too aware again that he was still very much inside of her. “Even though I cry after having sex?” 

She shrugged, “You’re only human, right?” 

They laid in their same old ways, with him on his back, her curled into his side and his arm firmly around her shoulders, twirling her hair around his fingers, for a few peaceful minutes afterward. That was until the knock on her door that pulled them both from their bubble and filled their heads with a million different worries. The most prominent being that they’d been too loud and woke someone up. There really was no way of explaining themselves out of that. 

Y/N cleared her throat and jolted up to the edge of her bed, facing the door. “One second.” 

She located her shirt on the floor quickly, throwing it over her head in a panic when the only thing on her mind was what excuse she would be using. Stepping up to the door, she took a deep breath and brushed her hair down, praying that this was not how her roommates found out, when she could still feel Harry inside her and her cheeks were still flushed. 

She turned the knob and cracked the door open just far enough to peek out, in almost the exact same way she had the first time she was forced to hide the fact that Harry was in her bed. 

Will stood on the other side, yawning with squinted eyes and slouched shoulders. It was obvious he’d just woken up and she prayed a second time it wasn’t because he heard the noises coming from her room. 

“Hey, uh, sorry for knocking out, I didn’t get much sleep this weekend.” He yawned again and she sighed in relief. “Did Harry leave already?” 

“Uh—“ She started but when she saw the way Will’s brows twisted in confusion as he glanced down the front of her, she was quickly cut off. 

“Isn’t that his shirt?”

She glanced behind her just in time to find Harry hiding his face in his hands. Shit.

She was fucked. There was no explaining it, at least not in any way that Will would ever believe. She stupidly put Harry's graphic tee on instead of her own and there was no going back from it.

Will’s hand came to the door and he pushed it open when she continued to remain quiet. He got it open just far enough to find Harry perched against her pillows, shirtless and flashing him a deer in headlights kind of look as he slipped his hands down his face. 

“What the fuck?” 

“Shh!” She pressed her hand to Will’s chest, begging him to be quiet. It was bad enough him finding out this way, she didn’t need anyone else waking up right now either. 

“You lied to me.” He accused, eyes still wide and in disbelief but he kept his voice down this time. “How long has this been going on?” 

She couldn’t tell if he was more angry or upset and hurt, but either way she didn’t like it. “I’m sorry.” 

Will’s eyes fell back on her and he grew even more distressed, “How long, Y/N?” 

Out of fear more than anything else, she responded honestly and sheepishly. “Couple months we’ve been seeing each other.” 

“Two months?” Will repeated, taking a step closer and forcing Y/N back into her room so that he could get a good look at Harry. “All those fucking songs were about my goddamn roommate? You’ve been going behind my back and lying to me all this fucking time?” 

“Will.” She tried to get him to calm down again. 

“Don’t Will me. I knew there was something going on after that party but you told me you didn’t like him. What the fuck, Y/N?” 

She cringed, hoping Harry would have never had to find out about what she told Will to convince him their reckless partying was only just that. Meaningless, when it was, in fact, not. 

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, both to Will and to Harry, when she glanced back at him again to find his eyes glued to his hands instead of the mess at her door. Then she brought her attention back to Will, “I was going to tell you, but I didn’t know how.” 

Will’s eyebrows nearly hit the ceiling. “I mean, a simple, ‘hey I’m sleeping with your best friend, is that cool?’ would have sufficed.” 

She pulled her lips into her mouth and bit down on them, not wanting to add any fuel to the fire by correcting him. Will’s idea of them sleeping together was most definitely not their own, but she supposed Will didn’t need to know the whole truth.    

“God!” Will continued, but still not being loud enough to wake anyone, “This is why you didn’t care about me leaving you at his house the other night?” 

Her silence answered that question more than enough. 

“Jesus,” Will ran his hand down his chin but it did seem like he was finally calming down. “Shit, well sorry for interrupting. Me and yall are gonna have a chat tomorrow though when I’m not half-asleep.” 

Y/N nodded eagerly, perfectly okay with that as long as he was no longer angry at them.

“But Harry,” Will backtracked and stressed Y/N out again, “I know you both already fucked with each other’s feelings, but if you hurt her again, I will kill you.”

Harry swallowed, finding not a single ounce of insincerity in Will’s threat and so he nodded obediently, not that he had any intentions of ever hurting Y/N again. 

“Fuck, okay,” Will huffed, “goodnight, then.” Reluctantly, he left, giving them one last look over his shoulder like he still didn’t believe it, and like they were both actually insane, but, finally, he was gone. And after she watched him saunter off down the hall to his bedroom, she closed the door and locked it for good measure. 

It was quiet in her room for a long time, or what felt like a long time anyways. The giant elephant Will had left between them made her refrain from turning around and looking at Harry without having something prepared to say to him. 

He said it first, however.

“You told him you didn't like me?” 

She squeezed her eyes shut, took a moment to catch her breath, and then turned. And he looked just as heartbroken as she imagined he would. “It was a while ago. He asked me if there was something going on between us after he saw us dancing at that party. What was I supposed to say?” 

“I dunno.” He shrugged. “Anything would have been better than that.” 

“Are you mad at me?” She whispered, praying that he wasn’t because she couldn’t handle what just happened with Will and Harry being upset with her too. 

His eyes shot back to hers in a heartbeat, “No.” Sighing, he ran his fingers through his hair, “I get why you said it.” 

“I know this is an understatement, but I don’t really know how to express my feelings very well, Harry. I did like you back then, more than I should have. And I do love you now, more than I know what to do with.” 

That seemed to settle his worries when his lips spread into the slightest bit of a smile. “Guess the cat’s out of the bag then.” 

She rolled her eyes up at the ceiling, unable to conceal her grin especially not when they found each other’s gazes and a moment later he pulled the blanket back to invite her in this time. 

“Guess the cat should get her ass back over here now.” 

Once she was there, in his arms again, all feelings of insecurity and doubt washed away, it felt like home. Especially when he pressed his lips to her forehead and whispered something she’d never get sick of hearing coming out of his mouth. 

“I guess I love you too.” 

Taglist: @afterstylesmadeit​ @cxnyon-moon-deactivated20200417​  @chrryblsms​ @whydontharry​ @harryinsweatersandbandanas​ @idkthisisjustforfanfic​ @teddysoldbird​ @shawnsblue​ @thurhomish​ @theasstour​ @hufflepuff-always-and-forever​ @staceystoleyourheart​ @granolagrannie​ @defineharry​ @iambabyharry​ @1142590m​ @ashtondene​ @smokeinherperfume​ @cherryyharryy​ @mellamolayla​ @chrryblsms​ @cassiopeiaskies​ @sunflowerjens​ @detroitkiwis​ @brwnskin-bunnyteeth​  @meetmeinfleetwood​ @harriesgolden​ @rachkon​ @caritocp​ @sspidermanss​ @forestliz​ @grandfunnyemopainter​ @metalmerida  @httpsmoony​ @iconicharry​ @cheesecakebagels​ @cronias13​ @dontyoucallhimbabby​  @brassharry​ @whothefudgeisharrystyles​ @damnigotadime @c-h-e-r-r-y-lips​ 

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #onlyhuman

[s4ijoh]

icarus falling. oikawa tooru

OIKAWA TOORU X GN! READER

GENRE: angst; fluff

WORD COUNT: 1.9k+

WARNINGS: established relationship

after seijoh's loss to karasuno in the semi finals…

the walk back home was nothing like what you had expected. you wondered if, walking on this sidewalk next to you, stood the same gutted boys that back in the court had their heads bowed down in defeat - their frowns now replaced by lighthearted smiles. you cling onto your boyfriend's arm, your presence silent next to him, watching from the sidelines. from your position, it might have just looked like a group of friends catching up on conversation but there was so much more to this moment than met the eye.

despite their loss, the conversation was rather lively - but you knew it was all a hopeless attempt to avoid the elephant in the room. there was a bittersweet taste to the current energy on the atmosphere. they carried on chatting almost as if they felt it was best to avoid the topic, it didn’t feel right to spend the last moment they had last as a team mourning their mistakes but rather reminiscing on the good memories instead. whereas, on the other hand, to deny to acknowledge their loss was to live a lie.

you keep a close watch on tooru, his features completely devoid of even the slightest hint of sorrow. however, you have learned to read in between the lines, to get to know each and every one of his quirks - to know his voice gets quieter when he is lying or how he blinks more rapidly when he’s nervous. you could read him like an open book and the occasional furrow of his brows, that even though was barely there for a half a second, only for you to catch a glimpse of it, was an immediate giveaway of the thoughts plaguing his mind.

once you reach the doorstep to tooru’s house you wave your goodbyes to the boys before the both of you part your different ways with the group. a heavy silence falls between the two of you yet there are so many things to be said. as the boys disappear into the distance, the atmosphere turns blue, all of tooru’s troubling thoughts lingering in the air yet not spoken of. you choose to give him his space to grieve, you knew he would talk to you once he was ready.

it was the quiet before the storm. as soon as he walks through the front door a suffocating void settles in his heart. tooru finds himself spiraling down a deep dark hole, a sudden numbness taking over his body before he is brought back to reality when his emotions strike him all at once. it was the catalyst to his ruin.

the lump in his throat tightening knocks the oxygen out of tooru’s lungs making it hard to breathe and he can no longer find the strength within himself to hold back any further, it is almost physically impossible for him to keep the tears from falling. he had kept all these feelings bottled up inside him for too long and it was only a matter of time before the inevitable happened - they start overflowing, all at once, against his own will. after the rainstorm, it’s not long until the flood. 

despite all his effort to keep himself under control, his first attempt at verbalizing his thoughts comes in the form of a choked sob as he falls right into your embrace. and so you watch him fall apart right before your eyes. as many times as you had held his trembling body in your arms, you would never get used to this sight. you could never guess that someone as cheerful as tooru had all these hardships in his life, but he did and ever since you met him you knew better than to believe the little show he put on for everybody.

you had seen him at his worst, and you were one of the few lucky ones he trusted enough to willingly let his walls down for. he had trusted you to see the rawest version of him and to allow you to roam his naked soul - no matter how many times he confessed his love for you, this was the ultimate proof of his sheer devotion and no matter how many times you confessed your love for him you could never show him how grateful you are to be fortunate enough to know the real tooru oikawa.

"let it all go" his shaky sobs resonate through your skin as he cries on your now damp shoulder with his face buried in the crook of your neck.

it was hard to notice on the outside but there was a battle taking place under the surface. disguised beyond his usual bright persona, tooru was fighting a war against himself. he was indeed his own worst enemy as cliché as it might sound. his number one struggle was to acknowledge his own worth, which induced the growth of his prevailing self-destructive habits. he would beat himself up every day, neglecting his own health in favor of working towards being the best player he could possibly become - he never thought it was enough; he had spend many restless nights wondering whether he would ever be enough. perhaps he was hopeless. so far, life had gone hard on him but, ever since you entered the scene, he could rely on you to brighten his darkest days.

"i did e-everything i could and it was still no-not enough" his words make your heart ache in your chest for you can tell how difficult it is for tooru to speak by the way his voice cracks at the end of the sentence before he falls into another fit of watery sobs. but to know he was taking it all upon himself struck you even harder.

this was the same boy you had watched pour his blood, sweat and tears into everything he had done, you only wish you could give him the world for he deserved nothing less. you knew he carried the weight of responsibility that came with being the team captain on his shoulders with pride, whether it was for the best or the worst. however, what he failed to realize was that he didn't have to bear it all on his own.

tooru felt like a failure; he had hit a wall. despite all his hard work he could not see the fruits of his labor. it was as if he was trapped in a maze with no exit - no matter the advances he made, he would always find himself back on square one, hopelessly running around in endless circles and driving himself insane.

in the end all his effort had gone to waste - or so he thought, in his current state, it was hard to see past the fog clouding his mind. he was inconsolable. you knew that no word you said could possibly mend his broken heart but you could at least try to relieve some of his pain.

"tooru, i know you will achieve great things one day. you just have to hold onto your dreams." you caress his hair whereas your spare hand rubs up and down his spine before settling on the nape of his neck, cradling the back of his head and tugging him closer to you.

“right now, i know it might feel like a loss but i believe in you and know you will make it out of this stronger, you always do"

you pull back to look into his glassy eyes, a thick veil of tears coating his hazel orbs. the eyes that once held all that passion are now dull as the familiar hopeful gleam fades away with every teardrop streaming down his cheeks, being replaced with a void of broken dreams. he always aimed high, strived to be better and it hurt to see him like this for he did not deserve it but, unfortunately, the universe had different plans for him.

tooru stood too close to the sun. he was close, close enough to yearn for more of it's warmth - he needed more. but what he failed to anticipate, guided by his own instinct, was that it was physically impossible to go any further without getting hurt. the higher he flew, the closer he got, the harder he would fall; his ambition was his greatest blessing as well as his worst curse. 

yet, once again, here you stood, ready to catch him on his fall back to earth. you had been there for him every step of the way. you had watched tooru fall flat on his face several times only to witness him build himself back up and work harder than the last time. you admired his cunning nature, it was his greatest weapon.

"i know you wanted to pursue your dreams next to your friends, tooru, but i promise you that they will be there, alongside you, watching your every step on the way to the top"

you feel his stiff muscles relaxing under your touch, it was almost as if you knew exactly what he needed to hear. everyone thought tooru required high maintenace but a few reassuring words were all it took to make him feel better and upon hearing the mention of his teammates, a switch flips inside him and he has a purpose once again. tooru wished to be better and even if it was hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel, he would keep going, if not for his sake, for his friends - he wouldn’t let them down again.

after a while you listen to his sobs fading into the air. after the flood always comes the quiet.

tooru’s body leans weak against yours once his sniffles die down. you hold onto his waist, dragging his limp body across the hall and into his room, sitting him on the edge of the bed to help him change into more confortable clothes. you crouch down in front of him to press a kiss to his injured knee before you lay down next to him, cradling him in your arms whereas you let the silence of the quiet night envelop the both of you in it’s sweet embrace. he felt at home, secure in the shelter of your warmth, your body caging him in a reassuring hug. he feels invincible all of a sudden, like he could conquer the world.

“i will make you feel proud of me, one day” he whispers against your chest, his voice is still hoarse in the aftermath of his emotional burst.

“i'm already proud of you, tooru. you are stronger than anyone could ever fanthom” 

“no. i mean that, one day, i will redeem myself and i want you there, by my side.”

despite his mellow tone, the eagerness was still present in his voice, each word radiating with the strength of a thousand suns. you were glad to know that, regardless of the storm, the flame was still burning bright inside him.

“i will be there, tooru.” you pull away from him to hold his face in your hands “i will be there to watch you reach the top. i will watch you get each and every one of your opponents out of the way and prove them wrong, baby. it's us against the world”

that night, you never leave his side, holding him as close as humanly possible expecting that, perhaps, if you hold him just tight enough you can fill the hole in his heart and make him feel whole again.

and, hopefully, you would still be here when he is finally ready to spread his winds open again and earns back the courage to fly high.

[a/n]: so im experimenting with a new writing style,, i wanted to improve my dialogue writing skills so from now on ill be focusing more on dialogue than i used to (feedback would be highly appreciated :D) + also no smut in here, for now, cs i was tired of writing nasty shit ,, give me a break, for the time being this is a smut free zone, (lmao who would've guessed) if you were here for the smut im sorry to disappoint you - the old ellie can’t come to the phone right now cuz she’s DEAD. my goal is to write shorter pieces and work on characterization as well hence the new blog!!, my old stuff didn't serve me anymore.

+ also it took me more time to write 2k words than those longer fics i used to write lmao. im actually proud of this one. hopefully, i changed for the better!

#had a personality 180º im blaming my unstable mental health #n e ways #i would rather say that im constantly improving myself so #if you knew me before this no you didnt #not me writing this while listening to i hate this part by the pussycat dolls #oikawa tooru #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru imagine #tooru oikawa x reader #oikawa fluff #haikyuu x reader #hq #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu #oikawa torū #haikyuucreations

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

Chapter 13 -- Perfect Harmony | Charlie Gillespie

Summary: Emily Fox is a talented 17-year-old with a passion for all things music. Her dream is to become a successful singer-songwriter one day. But to achieve that dream, she needs to get into one of the most prestigious music schools in her district – it’s all been part of her plan since she was six. Sadly enough, those schools cost a ton of money that her parents don’t want to invest. They don’t even want her to pursue her dream. So, now Emily’s hustling, working at the music store to save up to get into college. That’s until she meets Charlie, an annoying seventeen-year-old boy with the same dream as her. The only difference is, he’s just doing it. He doesn’t need a fancy college to pursue his dream to become famous with his band. He just writes his songs and books small gigs here, there and everywhere. Will meeting Charlie defer her from her dream college, or will he actually help her achieve the dream?

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x OC (Emily Fox)

Warnings: mentions of death, sexual assault

Important note: the characters of Charlie, Owen, Jeremy and Madison are based on the characters they play on the show and i do not own their names, only OC are mine. The songs aren’t mine either, they’re all from the show except for one.

Chapter thirteen 

~|Emily Fox|~

“Good morning, party girl!” Uncle Mitch shouts a little too loudly on a Sunday morning. “You look rough.” I sit down at the kitchen table on the opposite of him. “Gee thanks,” I rub my face harshly, then rest my head on my hand with my eyes shut. “You got in late last night. Didn’t think you’d stick around at a Brianna Holly party for so long. It surprised me you went in the first place, but you know, you do you.” My eyes shoot open at the reminder of last night. Jake’s eyes. Jake’s hands. On me. Jake’s lips. On me. “I shouldn’t have gone,” I tell him honestly which only earns me a worried look. “I mean, it was fun teasing Brianna a little and standing up for myself and playing a song with the boys but then Jake…” I trail off, not wanting to talk about it but Mitch and I are all about the open-book-policy. Talk about anything and everything with each other even if it might worry the other. Better to share the load than take all of it on one’s shoulders. “What did he do?” Uncle Mitch’s voice sounds darker, heavier. Almost villainous. “He was talking about how great we used to be and that he wanted it back, I think? I don’t really remember what we’d talked about, all I know for sure is that he’d tried to kiss me. The boys had to literally tear him off me.” Mitch’s eyes are intense, but at least he’s not trying to go and murder Jake. “We left pretty much straight after that and the boys took me to the Music Store. We stayed there, talking, pretty much all night.” I smile at the memory because even though what preceded that beautiful moment was literally the worst thing, it’s still a moment to cherish forever. “I’m glad those boys were there to help you out. They sound like great friends.” I smile a little and nod determinedly. “Wish I could hear you guys play.” “We’re having band practice later tonight, if you want to come and li—” I can’t even finish my sentence, because Mitch has already gotten up excitedly, dancing around the kitchen – though I wouldn’t call that dancing – and running up to me to hug me tightly. “But first!” He lifts a finger in the air. “Let’s grab all the snacks and watch some movies!” I nod excitedly and get up to gather up some snacks. With hot cocoas and all the chocolate in the world, we settle onto the sofa with blankets wrapped around us and Disney+ open to pick a movie since today is Disney day. We alternate between Disney+ and Netflix, one week Disney, the other non-Disney. “Can we watch Aladdin?” I suggest, mainly because it reminds me of mine and Charlie’s moment on the balcony, unbeknownst to my uncle. It’s been a little while since we’d made out on the balcony. Might have to suggest it soon. Mama needs her sugar. “Your uncle Bobby loved that movie,” Mitch comments as he presses play, “Do you remember you two singing A Whole New World together when you were really young, and he gave you a bath?” I nod my head at the far, but beautiful, memory. “That first weekend I came to stay at this house?” Mitch nods his head, “Yeah, I used to make a Sultan out of Bobby with the bubbles.” Uncle Mitch laughs at the memory. “The bathroom was such a mess after that!” I can’t help but laugh at the desperation in Mitch’s voice. “But you two were the cutest duetters alive. I loved having you around when you were really young too, you know? Still so innocent, not knowing how big and bad the world was. It made me forget about the big, bad world too.” I smile at him and rest my head on his shoulder. I don’t know what I’d do without Uncle Mitch. Live on a street, I guess? Probably? He might not be family by blood, but he sure does feel like it. I never knew anyone being with Uncle Bobby than Mitch. They were my one true pairing. I wanted someone to love me the same way they loved – and still love – each other. Their bond is unbreakable.

“Ready to go, Mitchy?” I ask when we’re both changed out of our pajama’s after dinner, ready to head to Jeremy’s garage for band practice. It’s the first time we’ll be rehearsing in his garage, but I’m excited to find out where Sunset Curve previously used to rehearse. Pre me. “Yes! I am ready to partaaaay!” I roll my eyes at him, an amused smile on my face. “Behave though? Don’t go and embarrass me on the first day meeting them, okay?” “Yes, mom.” Mitch can be such a child, but I love that about him. “Boys?” I knock on the wooden door that’s ajar. There’s some rummaging inside, but nothing else. I push it open to find all three boys inside already. Charlie’s sorting through his loose songbook papers, Jeremy is tuning his bass, and Owen just sitting on the couch, playing around with his drumsticks. “Hey! I brought my uncle; I hope you don’t mind?” “Oh, not at all!” Jeremy says, and gets up from his spot on the armchair. “Hey, I’m Jeremy,” he introduces himself with a smile, reaching his hand for my uncle to shake, which he does. My uncle has this look on his face that I recognize as his gaydar. He literally scans people to find out their sexuality. His gaydar is very accurate. “Mitch, nice to meet you.” Owen gets up next, shaking my uncle’s hand too. “I’m Owen, the drummer,” he shows the sticks in his hand. “I see,” Mitch replies with a smile, and then comes Charlie. “Hey, I’m Charlie, I’m—” he points at me, and I know what he’s going to say, but I can’t have him tell my uncle about us yet. “The lead singer!” I chime in and give him a knowing look. “Right, yeah, the lead singer,” Charlie looks kind of hurt, and it breaks my heart in two as well. Just an us-thing, for now. Then it can be an everyone-thing. I hope he understands. “Nice to meet you, guys!” Mitch then leans closer to me, “And which one of the two cute semi-straight boys is the Cutie from the Music Store?” he whispers with Charlie just a few feet away. His head turns slightly and his mouth curls upwards. He heard Mitch. “Semi-straight?” I ask for an explanation. “Jeremy is questionable.” “Right…” I trail off, still whispering, “Let’s get to work, guys,” I speak up now, so the band knows I’m talking to them. Uncle Mitch looks a little hurt at me ignoring his question, though I’m pretty sure he knows it’s Charlie. “What song first?” Charlie queries while my uncle takes a seat on the couch and we get ready. “Why don’t we let the guest choose?” Jeremy suggests, pointing at my uncle. “Me?” I nod my head, encouraging him. I’d told them all the songs we’d made or already sang together. Which are three, four if you count This Band Is Back. “I really liked Perfect Harmony when Ems showed it to me the other day.” Charlie and I exchange a glance, a shy smile plastered on his face, and I’m pretty sure mine mirrors his. He goes to grab his acoustic guitar for this one. “Perfect Harmony it is, then!” Owen says and counts us in. Where Charlie and I imagined the soft beat and melody, that’s where Owen and Jeremy come in with the drums and bass. We’d only practiced this one a couple of times before. It still has the same, electric vibe it did when Charlie and I sang it alone. I still feel the same sparks, the same tingles rushing over my body. “I feel your rhythm in my heart, yeah,” I sing without taking my eyes off of him. “You are my brightest, burning star, woah-woah” “I never knew a love so real” “So real,” he echoes. “We're heaven on earth, melody and words When we are together we're In perfect harmony Woah, woah Perfect harmony Woah, woah Perfect harmony” I glance at Uncle Mitch. He’s staring at us with so much pride and intensity. When he catches my glance, he mouths “Cutie from the Music Store”, which makes me smile like an idiot. He knows. “We say we're friends We play pretend You're more to me We create a perfect harmony” Uncle Mitch gets up off his seat, clapping and whooping like an intense fan. “My favorite song ever! So beautiful!” he shouts in between cheers. We play Now or Never, and, upon Jeremy’s request, This Band is Back before calling in a break. “I need a wee,” I say and patter towards the bathroom in the back. When I’m about to head back inside, I hear the boys playing a song I haven’t heard before. Or at least I don’t think I have. It intrigues me even more when I hear Mitch’s voice through the microphone. “Let me introduce myself We got some time to kill Consider me the pearly gates to your new favorite thrills We could go make history or you could rest in peace But here there ain't no misery Cause on the other side we live like kings” I find the boys in their regular spots, Uncle Mitch probably having told them what chord to play in or something. Either that or they’re just playing around, and Mitch’s song just matches. “Whatcha gonna do? Whatcha gonna do? Let your body loose, let your body loose Whatcha gonna do? Whatcha gonna do? Show you a thing or two 'Cause you ain't seen nothing” That’s when I recognize the song. It’s the one Uncle Bobby wrote for a Halloween musical at his school once. It was the villain song of the whole story and stuck in all our heads for months. I still know the words, and thus decide to sing along with my uncle, much to the boys’ surprise. “Life is good on the other side of Hollywood Life is good on the other side of Hollywood So welcome to the brotherhood Where you won't be misunderstood Life is good on the other side of Hollywood” I get behind the keyboard and play a couple of notes, leaving the verse for my uncle. “Everything has got a price but happiness is free Just so happens, you're in luck We've got a vacancy We can set the night on fire and break out of the scene Your soul print on the walk of fame On the boulevard of your wildest dreams” I now grab a mic too, properly wanting to join in now. “Whatcha gonna do? Whatcha gonna do boys? Let your body loose, let your body loose Whatcha gonna do? Whatcha gonna do boys? It ain't bragging if it's true Now you ain't seen nothing” I walk up to Jeremy whilst I sing along to the chorus and Jeremy’s shredding the bass. “Life is good on the other side of Hollywood Life is good on the other side of Hollywood” I walk over to the drumkit and jam out for a moment with Owen. “So welcome to the brotherhood Where you won't be misunderstood Life is good on the other side of Hollywood” I then move to Charlie while my uncle gets to the bridge. The boys stop playing and clap along with me. “The rain don't blind the rising souls They got too much to see I got your glamour, got your gold Got all you'll ever need Let me hear you now!” The boys have somehow remembered the lyrics my uncle just sang, and sing them with me now. “The rain don't blind the rising souls They got too much to see” “Yeah,” Mitch goes for a high note, chilling my spine. “I got your glamour, got your gold Got all you'll ever need,” the four of us continue. “Yeah,” Another high note from Mitch. The boys now pick up their instruments again. “I said watch me make a move, watch me make a move boys” “Whatcha gonna do? Whatcha gonna do?” the boys and I echo. “I said watch me make a move, no, I don't disappoint” “Whatcha gonna do? Whatcha gonna do?” “Watch me make a move I'm ya number one choice” “Whatcha gonna do? Whatcha gonna do?” “Watch me make a move Come one and give me that noise” The boys take a break. “A tomb with a view Ain't it something?” And pick it back up with a bit of bass before all three of them join in again, and even join me into singing the backing vocals for my uncle. “Life is good on the other side of Hollywood Life is good on the other side of Hollywood So welcome to the brotherhood Where you won't be misunderstood Life is good on the other side of Hollywood So welcome to the brotherhood Where you won't be misunderstood Life is good on the other side of Hollywood” Charlie and Jeremy stop playing and leave Owen a little drum solo.

“Ain't it the best? Long live the dead!” Mitch shouts out dramatically, and then Owen goes off again on his drums. “I thought your Uncle Robert was the musically talented one?” Charlie asks with an impressed smile on his face. “How do you think we met? It was musical night in our favorite bar, and we sang a song together. That first scene in High School Musical?” The boys nod, knowing what he’s talking about, “It’s based on our story… Just straight.” The boys laugh light-heartedly at his story. “That’s not true,” I whisper, making them laugh even more. “That was a fun song though! How did you know it?” Jeremy asks me. “Uncle Bobby wrote it. He is – was – the music teacher at this high school and he wanted a cool villain song for the villain in his Halloween musical, so he wrote himself one. The song used to be stuck in our heads for months on end. It surprised me I still knew it.” “The boys were playing around with their instruments and it reminded me of Bobby’s song,” Mitch tells me, “I couldn’t help but chime in and start singing.” He wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer to him. “It’s such a tune,” I say with a smile, “I think Bobby would’ve liked us singing it together.” “I think so too,” says Mitch and he presses a kiss to my hair. “Let’s get home now, yeah? Give your boyfriend a kiss and we’re off.” Charlie and I freeze, neither of us expecting Uncle Mitch to know about this since I never told him. “Oh, come on. You could not sing Perfect Harmony without staring at each other like that heart eyes emoji-thingy. I don’t only have amazing gaydar, I also have amazing love-dar.” He winks at me as I shake my head in disbelieve, but I can’t help the smile either. My uncle knows me well. “See you tomorrow, guys,” I say with the most awkward wave. I mean, I’m not going to kiss Charlie in front of my uncle. Especially when he specifically told me to do so. That’s just weird. Uncle Mitch gives me a look, which I shoot back. He then rolls his eyes. “I’ll meet you outside. Say goodbye properly.” He leaves the garage, and then it’s the four of us. Neither Charlie nor I move, still unsure of the public displays of affection in front of the boys. “Seriously?” Jeremy groans before leaving the garage with Owen. They’ll be able to entertain my uncle for a while. I don’t even know why it’s so hard for me to show PDA. It never used to be this way with Jake. But maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe us taking it slowly and not showing us off too much is healthy for us. “I’ll see you at the store tomorrow?” I ask whilst the two of us slowly walk up to each other, inching closer and closer by the second. “Definitely,” he replies with a smile. Once we’re inches away, he grabs my hands in his. “Isn’t your uncle going to be annoyed you didn’t tell him sooner?” I shrug. “I don’t think so. He knows how private I am about relationships. And besides, you heard him, he’s got amazing love-dar.” Charlie’s laughter intertwines with mine. “I think he knew before today already too. He’s all-knowing.” “As long as he doesn’t know about our sneaky dates on your balcony, I think we might be fine.” I chuckle at that comment, and then both of us fall silent. “He probably knows this’ll happen though.” The words come out just above a whisper as he inches closer and dips down. His lips meet mine in a sweet, somewhat long-lasting kiss. “I’m pretty sure they’re eavesdropping, though,” I say when we pull away. “No, we’re not!” Jeremy shouts from the other side of the door. “Yeah, definitely,” says Charlie, and he lets go of one hand, intertwining the fingers of his other hand with the one he’s still holding. He leads me out the door and then lets go of that hand too. “She’s all yours, Mitch,” he tells my uncle, and reaches out the hand he’d just held mine with for a handshake. “Hey!” I shout, “I’m no property!” Both Charlie and Mitch raise their hands in defense. “Yes, girl! Tell ‘em!” Owen preaches, holding his hand up and I slap mine on it in a high five. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” I kiss Charlie’s cheek quickly and then leave the boys with Uncle Mitch. “They’re really nice boys, Muffin. I’m glad you’ve found them.” I smile at that. “Me too, Mitchy, me too.”

Taglist: @parkeret​​ @lukeys-giggle​ @hannahhistorian92​ @gingerxarmy​ @marinettepotterandplagg​ @lovesanimals​ @thequirkybookaholic​ @calamitykaty​ Lemme know if you want to be on my taglist for this story/any of my other works!

#julie and the phantoms #julie and the himbos #charlie gillespie #jeremy shada #owen joyner #madison reyes #charlie x oc #oc emily fox #luke patterson #reggie jatp #alex jatp #julie molina

[emerald-echeveria-plant]

I feel as though I will get to or motivate myself to finish my little series of the crossover I made. So here are some things that would've happened

- Bonnet asking Ironbeard if he's a good captain. Ironbeard lies that he is so that he won't ask him again. Bonnet having an underlying feeling that he was indeed lying.

- ePiC fight scene between Octavia and Sao. Sao wins.

- Fleance trying to flirt with BEN and BEN ends up hurting his feelings with his sass.

- Cletus and Erik playful bantering with each other and might end up being possible frenemies.

- Bonnet and Haggis fist fighting

- Bonnet deciding to let Haggis live after beating the heck out of him. Lol he shouldn't have done that.

- Davy Jones cameo

- Billy and Islay knowing each other from being apart of an old crew, where they were once friends. Sorta implication they liked each other then but Islay was too emotionally closed off to start a relationship.

- Baozhai trying not to be a creep towards Flint so that he could actually like her back

- Flint slowly liking Baozhai as a friend.

- Baozhai and Flint sharing cute moments together

- Flint denying he's in love with Baozhai, even though he kinda is.

- Baozhai sharing her past with Flint. Flint kinda gets uncomfortable after she carefully describes how she murdered two families that ruined her life and mental state.

- Flint sharing a bit of his own past with Baozhai.

- Islay slowly letting herself open up emotionally.

- Islay and Billy having some of their own romantic plot line going on. Baozhai poking fun at Islay.

- "awww did someone get bit by the love bug or are you feeling all of that on your own? 😏" - Baozhai

- "oh shut up!" Islay

- The squad coming across an abandoned village. They see skeletal remains of the villagers that once lives there. Sends chills down some of their spines.

- A large beast attacking the four. Billy gets pretty messed up when trying to fight it. Islay and Flint trying their best to kill the beast. Baozhai is the one to slaughter it if it weren't for the help of her friends.

- Islay patching up Billy and they end up sharing a rather tender moment with each other.

- Baozhai having a mental breakdown about how she hates being insane and wishes she wouldn't have thoughts about wanting to hurt other people. How she misses thinking like a regular person. Flint trying his best to comfort her. It works and she's all okay again.

- Flint and Baozhai cuddling together ლ(◕ω◕ლ)

- Flint worrying he's getting too attached to Baozhai.

- Islay and Billy getting caught making out lmao

- Bonnet sharing with Leonid that he was once apart of a war. After he left said war, he made a promise to himself he wouldn't kill another man ever again. Makes it clear why he couldn't bring himself to kill Haggis in the first place.

- Leonid suggesting he may or may have not been apart of the Russian mafia.

- Erik getting revenge against Leonid for kicking his ass by cutting off his hand.

- Noëmie having to solve puzzle with Sao while they're stuck in some sort of death trap that's causing the room to get smaller. They survive and both swear to never speak of helping each other.

- Baozhai and Flint weirdly acting like a couple. You know like hugging, semi flirting, and laughing

- Archie after spying on Flint and Baozhai, finds out that they're getting too close with each other. He doesn't know what to think so he tells someone about what he saw. Archie telling Cletus about what he saw. Cletus then telling Noëmie, Noëmie then telling Fleance, Fleance than telling Leonid, Leonid telling Ironbeard, and Ironbeard telling Bonnet. It comes off as a rumor which Bonnet doesn't care too much about. He thinks Baozhai isn't truly in love with him and that its just a short-lived crush.

- Haggis on the other hand, hearing through the grapevine goes: >:O

- "One of MY crewmates was caught flirtin' with one of Bonnet's BASTARD crewmates??? Oh I'm gonna teach that boy a lesson alright >:(("

- Baozhai acting less insane and bloodthirsty.

- Her obsessive thoughts of wanting to be with Flint actually turn healthy.

- Baozhai and Flint sharing a tender moment underneath the stars.

- "I know this is going to sound weird but.. when I'm around you.. I feel sane." Which means a LOT coming from Baozhai.

- Baozhai and Flint damn near kissing only to be interrupted by Islay and Billy walking in on them.

- Islay sharing a story about how she was almost killed by Warden.

- Baozhai sharing some of her own stories and pieces about her own personal life.

- Baozhai daydreaming about being married to Flint and sailing the eitherium.

- Flint knowing he's too far in with Baozhai and doesn't know wether to back out or not. Tries to get advice from Billy but he's unfortunately stuck in same situation except it's with Islay.

- They all arrive to the cave that holds the lost treasure of the Paititi. Just as they do, so does everyone else. There's plenty of treasure but not nearly enough for two pirate crews to share it. Everyone starts fighting. Again. For like the third time.

- Bonnet getting his ass beat by Haggis again and this time Haggis almost kills him instead.

- Flint and Baozhai fight even though they don't really want to.

- Baozhai doesn't want to hurt Flint, causing her to confess that she loves him. Everyone gasps in pretty surprised and stop fighting. Flint already knew because it was damn obvious from the start.

- Flint doesn't know what to do. Does he choose a girl he's been with for a few days or possibly getting his ass beaten to death by his captain. As much as he would like to be with her, he knows he can't.

- He ends up stabbing Baozhai in the chest. It doesn't kill her but it's symbolic of him breaking her heart. (I like symbolism ok aksskskkw)

- Haggis's crew wins and take all the treasure for themselves. Bonnet's crew get beat the fuck up and head back to the ship to get their wounds patched up.

- so basically Haggis: 2 Bonnet: 1

- Octavia manages to fix everyone up then save the lives of Baozhai and Bonnet. even her own. (Goddamn she's a great doctor someone give her an award..)

- Baozhai doesn't talk or interact with anyone for a few days. She's very emotionless and empty from what happened.

- "Christ, she's never been this way before. You think she'll be okay?" - Cletus

- "Who knows. That heart break sure must've messed her up real bad, poor thing.." - Noëmie.

- "Well, it was the first time she's ever been in love before. And I guess this makes it her first heartbreak as well." - Octavia

- Bonnet now laying in his bed must of the time because of how fucked up he got by Haggis. Although he does try to be a leader for his crew. Even if it hurts for him to stand up.

- Meanwhile...

- "WHOOO WE GOT THE TREASURE! FUCK BONNET AND HIS CREW! WHAT A BUNCH OF PUSSIES!"

- Haggis chuckling and patting Flint on the back. Essentially congratulating him for manipulating that "little harlot" aka Baozhai to get to the treasure.

- Flint getting drunk off his ass to get rid of his guilt for betraying Baozhai.

- Billy not knowing what's the future of his and Islay's relationship going to be.

- When Bonnet about to go to sleep, the twins tell him an eerie prediction.

- "Don't you think an iron plate would go well with your slumber..?" - Liliana

"Yes, to protect oneself from the demons that lurk in the shadows of your room or in your mind?" - Lenny

"It certainly would, especially when the clock hits at twelve." - Liliana.

- "uh.. no..?" - Bonnet

- "You'll bring a dark omen upon this eitherium if you don't." - Lilliana and Lenny.

- Bonnet slowly enters his room, paying no mind to what the twins told him. He never truly believed in their predictions...

- when the clock struck twelve at night, Baozhai entered his room and stabbed him to death.

- In the morning, none of crewmates couldn't find their captain. He wasn't anywhere on the ship or in his office. It wasn't until Baozhai told them of his fate, all while she laughs her ass off with her back turned to them.

- Fleance immediately wants to have Baozhai killed or thrown overboard for betraying their captain. In response, Baozhai punches him and stabs him in the shoulder with a dagger. She holds the same dagger against his neck.

- Fleance ends up getting to have a good look at her face. It's covered in many scars and damn near mutilated.

- Baozhai tells Fleance to never disrespect their captain again or he'll be the one thrown overboard.

- She tells everyone that she's had enough of this crew getting their asses kicked and that things are going to start changing now that she's in charge.

- How they'll overthrow the monarchy and make the eitherium a better place for all..

- Baozhai then demands them to get back to their stations as she walks back to her new office.

- Stunned with this revelation, the crew do as their told to not upset their new captain.

- At night, Islay is on the deck trying to smoke her pipe then Baozhai comes to join her.

- "Islay, just the person I wanted to see. Mind if I smoke with you?" - Baozhai, pulling out a cigarette

- "Um, sure." Islay says uncomfortably.

- "You know I didn't really except for myself to take over the role of captain. It just sort of happened."

- "You stabbing Bonnet to death just sorta happened..?"

- "Yes! It did. After feeling empty for so long, I couldn't help but feel a strange combination of rage and bloodthirst take over that night. I just had to put my hands on something. Anything. And watch the life drain from it's eyes. It could've been Noëmie, Leonid, or even you. Heh, yet I went with Bonnet.. He was a weak link of the crew anyway."

- "I mean I guess he was.."

- "... I just wanted to tell you something."

- "What is it?"

- "You were right. About everything."

- "... About what-"

- "Love. It is truly a terrible thing. First you feel that high of dopamine and the butterflies fluttering around in your stomach then the next.. the guy you like breaks your heart. Quite literally."

- "Bao, I know what I said but don't take that it first awful experience-"

- "First? Heh, you really think I'm going to go through that again???"

- "No, I'm just saying that-"

- "YOU'RE DAMN RIGHT I WON'T. I'M NEVER LETTING MYSELF GETTING BETRAYED AGAIN. FIRST IT WAS MY OWN FAMILY THEN IT WAS LETTING THAT BASTARD GET INTO MY HEAD! NO, I WON'T LET ANYONE MAKE A FOOL OUT OF ME AGAIN!"

- it's takes a moment for a Baozhai to calm down but when she does. She laughs for moment before telling Islay goodnight and heading off to sleep.

- Islay was a little shaken up by that. She tries to smoke her pipe to calm down then she sees the twins.

- "This is only the beginning of her madness..." - Liliana and Lenny

- "..."

- "Fuck my life." - Islay

So yeah that's what happens! Pretty sad but I wanted to keep that rivalry of Baozhai and Flint lmao. I wanted to write this stuff out but I never go the energy to do so. I didn't want to leave the series on a cliffhanger so I made this instead. I'm sorry that I couldn't finish it. But maybe I'll end up having the motivation to do so. Someday.

[losille2000]

Mister America, Prologue: Massachusetts

CHAPTER NUMBER: 1/? CHARACTERS: President!Chris Evans/OFC (see notes) GENRE: Romance/Drama FIC SUMMARY: After a massive social media write-in campaign organized by others, Chris finds himself thrust into a spotlight that he is unprepared to handle. His campaign managers suggest that a political marriage might help him weather the storm and help his image during the campaign... just so long as it isn’t the one woman Chris really wants. RATING: M  WARNINGS:  Nothing. AUTHORS NOTES: This story is AU in the fact that this is the 2020 presidential race, and Chris is a candidate. But everything in the past is still the same with him being an actor. Also, COVID-19 is not a part of this story. I needed to play in a land where COVID didn’t exist and “Captain America,” in his alter ego, punched out a Nazi in a metaphorical(?) way. For more on the story, go here.

This first part is prologue-y.

I have also curated a soundtrack for all 50 states, and then some. You can listen on Spotify right now, may eventually put it on Youtube. There will be 50 chapters (I’m hoping), but many of them will be shorter.

Also on AO3!

Boston, MA Evans for President Campaign Headquarters November 3rd, 2020 30 Minutes Before First Polls Close

Stage fright is no joke.

When it hits, it hits like a semi truck going seventy on an icy Massachusetts road. In the blink of an eye, you’re completely obliterated. Except this is on stage and you’re not dead, even though you wish you were. In fact, you’re very much alive. Alive enough to feel the force of the impact, followed by the squeezing in your chest and choking on your breathless words. Paralysis takes over. Cold clammy sweat slicks your palms and also trickles down your back to that one spot between your shoulder blades you can’t reach, but causes your costume to uncomfortably stick to your skin.

There’s no escape. You know what’s coming. You worry you’ll forget your lines, or trip on your cue, or make a complete and utter fool of yourself. You feel like an imposter, questioning why you’re here, in this role, when that dude, JD, from your acting class years ago was a million times more talented than you, and you’re the one that got that teen movie deal.  You’re the one who became one of America's most beloved superheroes for a decade.

You’re also the one who has a very real chance of winning the 2020 presidential election, despite no college education, limited understanding of what elected officials in DC actually do on a day to day basis, and the closest thing you have to experience as a “boss” or “commander in chief” of anything was a movie set or two where you were director and executive producer. 

Nope.

What I, Chris Evans, have is a dedicated online fan base who took the time to write my name into ballots when they discovered I had filed for ballot access in every state of the union. I didn’t do the filing on a whim; we sat around late one night talking about the interviews I had been conducting in DC for a website about party positions on important issues. My business partners and I came up with the idea that a long form documentary about campaigning would be interesting, and we determined the best way to understand the process was to become a “candidate” myself. Meaning, we only planned to use the credentials to be on the front line of the campaigning process. I was never going to create signs and make speeches or debate with others.

I never intended to run a legitimate campaign.

But, as I mentioned, something strange happened during the Democratic primaries. People started to vote for me, a trickle of rain in a hurricane.

I won a few primary delegates.

Without even trying.

Not enough to win the Democratic ticket, but enough to make pollsters sit up and take notice.

My loyal fans stepped in again, undaunted, and ignited a storm. They dubbed it “Operation America’s Ass” and created a grassroots campaign across the country with GoFundMe donations and a lot of pluck. I thought it was a joke. A part of me still does think it’s a joke. I mean, what other explanation is there for this mess? For the red, white and blue bunting hanging on the walls with the “Chris Evans for President” sign plastered underneath it? For the staffers who stop briefly to see if I need anything...‘Would you like a drink, sir?’... or, upon seeing how pale I look, give me a vote of confidence… ‘Are you ready for your acceptance speech?’ There’s absolutely no good explanation as to why there are twenty or thirty people buzzing around the hotel suite waiting for results. They’re so energized with hope for a better future.

Hope that I can be everything they ever wanted in a president.

An Independent president, free from party oversight.

A president with class.

A president for the people.

A president who can bring the United States back from the brink of destruction at the hands of previous leaders.

I wish I had their confidence.

When they asked me on career day in school what I wanted to be when I grew up, I always said artist. When I was older, in high school, I knew I was going to be an actor. Never president. The job never entered my mind as being a possibility, not even when I used to work for my uncle’s congressional campaigns. Or when I started filming those interviews.

Why does anyone think I, a straight white momma’s boy from Boston should be president in 2020? Just because I made a few popular Tweets about the current president’s lack of leadership?

It has to be a joke. A cosmic one. I’m a punchline. I am convinced they’ll jump out from behind a doorway and yell “You’ve been PUNK’D! We really got you this time, now here, Bernie, you’re the better candidate.”

And yet…

What if they see in me something I do not?

I place a lot of stock in being in the moment. I’ve also put a lot of work into accepting the twists and turns of life instead of allowing all the “what ifs” and “what should I dos” to eat away at me. I told everybody after I was done with Marvel and financially secure enough to only work on projects I really wanted to, I’d take life as it came at me.

Well, it came after me.

To be fair, I originally chose to get into politics, even in a tiny way, because I wanted to be informed about my choices. I created a website so others could learn, as well. As time went on, I became more involved on Capitol Hill. I even did some lobbying for a few causes dear to my heart. And, yes, I did file the ballot access paperwork.

Had I unintentionally set my path in this direction? Was it inevitable for me to become a contender for the presidency?

Fortunately, I learned early on in the process that a lot of being a presidential candidate is being a convincing showman. An actor. The world's a stage, after all, and I am but a player. You have to have some solid ideas and convictions to back up the image, but a lot of the governing comes from other members of the executive branch. Should I win, I’d only be signing off on everything.

Of course, that “everything” affects the lives of more than 300 million souls. I wouldn’t trust me with a kitchen knife, much less nuclear launch codes and people's livelihoods and education and health and…

My hands shake with nerves just thinking about it.

Let it be said, once I do make it out onto the stage--be it as an actor or presidential candidate--I rise to the challenge. The energy from the audience buoys me. Makes me feel alive. But I am not, by nature, someone who likes to sign away so much personal freedom in exchange for the weight of carrying an albatross around my neck. I thought signing for Captain America would be tough; the human toll of running for president even moreso.

Actually being President? I can’t even wrap my mind around that.

It would be easy to call it quits, even now when the votes are already cast. I could have done it a long time ago, when the reality of the situation hit me the first time. I didn’t. Something told me to hold back, play it out. I persevered. Why? Somewhere, along the line, I began to believe I could do this. I could make a positive difference in the lives of Americans.

I certainly want to do right by all my supporters--and my detractors. I want to be a leader for all Americans.

But can I, really, while knowing my incredible deficiencies?

Maybe I can’t, but I can be the team leader. A brand ambassador, if you will. A good leader delegates. And I intend, should I win, to surround myself with the best and brightest. I will accept no less. I will do ‘Whatever It Takes,’ as our slogan boasts. I am American, first and foremost, and I care deeply about this country.

A real Captain America, if you will. Maybe not as strong or powerful as others, but I sure as hell can give a great speech and will defend my country from bullies until my last breath, whether they be purple… or orange.

Except, I suppose if I’m elected, I won’t be Captain America anymore. They’ll call me Mr. President.

Or, horror of horrors, what if the new name my nearest and dearest coined makes it out into the public. They tease me with it just to see my visceral revulsion and get a laugh. But if I have learned anything about the internet--and pop culture--is that if something is catchy, it sticks around for a long time.

Maybe I ought to get used to the idea of being a punchline.

So, I suppose I have a question for you.

Won’t you consider a vote for Mr. America?

#chris evans #captain america #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fan fiction #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fan fic #mister america #president!chris evans #president

[kerice]

Painful Memories...

I came across some old photos. Some of my wedding. I can look at these pictures now with less emotion. There is sadness but I really can’t identify with that person in the photo anymore. Does this mean I have detached myself? I remember being there. Have I healed from the wounds that are still painful to mention? This day, more than 17 years ago, was a start of a major trial in my life. Having the courage to work through the pain of recovery has helped give me the drive and tenacity to overcome financial debt and to succeed in school. 

My academic journey started back in 1996, academic achievement did not come easy to me in high school, but I wanted to get a good job, so a few years after high school I started classes at Seattle Central College, in Seattle Washington. I then had a child at age 25 and I became a single mom. I am always inspired by women who say that without hesitation, trepidation or feeling less than women who have a partner. When my son was about three years old, I transferred to Bellevue College. They had a work study program where I could work at the school daycare (where my son was) and also work on my career goals, while having my son close. Due to the early birth of my second son on Nov. 27th, I was unable to finish my last two weeks of course work in the fall of 2003. As a result, I received a failed grade in my personal enrichment courses of French 201 and Algebra II. However my GPA for my science classes were within the range they needed to be. But, even so, I had to quit my job and dropped out of college since my son was born two weeks before the final exams. 

On the day of the wedding, It was a beautiful, warm day in September 2004, I remember, the kids were dancing and laughing, the lakeside property was gorgeous. I remember my family and friends being around me, it felt like a different life. I don’t like going back in my thoughts. The pain of those memories has become less as time’s gone on. To go from such a happy day celebrating with the person I wanted to live my life with to days later, almost losing my life to this person. This is a story, no one wants to tell. Four days after my wedding, I was a victim of a road rage incident, where I was physically assaulted and (along with my infant son) nearly killed. My husband of four days was charged with reckless endangerment and assault and then arrested. A passerby had seen the incident and called 911. I still can’t believe this happened to me. He never apologized for what he had put us through, we never saw him again except at a distance. I then started therapy for the physical pain that was inflicted on me, the emotional pain would be a much longer process of healing.

When you go through the family court system and testify in front of everyone, what you go through, it is very difficult. After the shock wears off, the shame sets in, it’s hard to talk about. They (the court advocates) encourage you to talk, saying that it saves lives. I felt lost and defeated. I was forced to go through court ordered therapy, which I knew, any invasive findings would be broadcast in court. I had to acknowledge other incidences of abuse that led up to the escalation to the road rage. I was faced with the reality of my own denial of what was happening to me. The excuses I would make to myself. He was just stressed out. Maybe it was a psychotic break? I couldn’t be objective or logical enough to begin to imagine why someone would do such things to a person they profess to love. I didn’t want a stomach ulcer on top of everything else. I was able to get a pro bono attorney for the first trial.  But after my ex-husband went to domestic violence treatment, there was a new trial. This was because, where there is “abusive use of conflict,” the courts don’t allow mediation to settle parenting plans. This put me in financial peril, and I have struggled financially  ever since. 

It’s been many years since the assault and arrest. I was vilified and blamed for what caused our separation to our community and friends. According to his account, it was all an exaggeration, a misunderstanding. I heard him say in court that I was crazy, emotionally unbalanced. Especially during the child custody proceedings. I was so afraid of him and what he would do to me. I couldn’t even comprehend fully what he was doing, who he even was. Was he my enemy now? He blamed me for getting him arrested, even though I had not been the one who called the police, but an anonymous stranger did! I felt alone, scared, traumatized. I hated having to go through the court hearings and hear the venomous words coming from him and his attorney. It made me feel crazy, out of my mind. I had to get away, I saw him everywhere, I was always looking over my shoulder. Sudden movements would make me jump. Flashes of the trauma would enter my mind. While driving my car, when I would see brake lights I would tense up and my heart would skip a beat. How could I even co-parent with this person? My Post Traumatic Stress was keeping me from moving beyond what happened to me, keeping me from moving forward. But I knew I had to somehow keep it together and be strong for my children. 

After the divorce, I was given permission to move out of state. In 2007, my brother, who lived in Northern Kentucky, offered me a job. Because of this, I was able to move out of state with my children. I am so grateful to my brother for his help in this transition. During this time, my father had entered retirement from the military out on the west coast. He and my mother were planning on moving to Cincinnati to help my brother with his business. The timing of the move was good since we would be able to have the support of my family, during this time of healing and transition. Upon my move, my ex was continuing to file motions at the Seattle court house. I had to hire an attorney, from out of state, to represent me and to respond to every motion filed. Within 5 years, he filed 12 motions that were all dismissed for lack of credibility. Even though he was ordered to pay my attorney’s fees, these orders were not enforced, therefore leading me to incur much debt over the years. With the two divorce trials costing $40,000 and the additional $10,000, my finances were in trouble. I had to ask my parents for help with these huge costs. Two years after the divorce, he stopped paying child support and my daycare costs exceeded $6,000. I had to ask my parents for help with the kids, which allowed me to work more hours to pay my debts. I have been used to working two or sometimes three jobs to get a handle on my finances. In 2015 I was able to receive vocational training so I could earn more per hour. 

I am a single parent living in the Cincinnati area for almost 14 years now. After much healing and hard work, I am anxious to continue my academic career goals. I am the proud parent of two well-adjusted young adults and I’ve had much experience juggling work, school and parenting. I also became the caretaker of my grandmother the last year of her life. In which I moved her into my home with my two children. During this time, as I partnered with the hospice care staff, I assisted in many nursing responsibilities. Reflecting back on this now, I feel that nursing is the field I belong in. During my time in Cosmetology school, I took on another caretaking job. I did this while managing my other full-time job. Then in 2018, I enrolled in an accelerated program at the Cincinnati School of Medical Massage. Where we had rigorous course work in A&P and Pathology. I also became a personal care assistant in 2018. I also currently work as a licensed Cosmetologist and LMT, as well as an STNA. 

I am happy to say that my domestic partner and fiancé is supportive of my desire to finish my nursing education. Over time I had developed a tougher exterior, not able to readily identify with my feelings. I was so guarded, out of necessity. An armor of survival. I find it more difficult to make friends, especially deep friendships that take invested time and effort. Letting people in feels too high of a risk at times, as the emotional scars surface. Where I attended massage school, they taught us what it means to be “semi-permeable.” The idea of boundary lines that define your personal space and the space for the client. If you are too closed off, then you won’t be able to tune into anyone else’s needs. This was a wonderful exercise for me in many ways. It’s helped me in my relationship with my children as well. In the past, I’ve heard awful comments directed towards me, anywhere from saying that I am a bad mother, to questions like, why didn’t I just get an abortion. Being on the other end of the parenthood journey, with my kids entering the adult world, I would say it was worth the pain, the struggle. We persevered, we are all tough as nails, I can see it from the work ethic my kids have. Even in the most ideal circumstances, children can still have issues. But seeing the love for me in their eyes is very moving. Watching them run around, playing and laughing is like watching my heart dancing outside of me. I wish that some things had been different for them. But through the struggle, we established a strong bond, which I believe will last for years to come. I don’t know who made this quote but it sums up so much. “A son makes love stronger, days shorter, bankroll smaller, home happier, clothes shabbier, the past forgotten and the future worth living for.” 

This trial has taught me to not be too quick to dismiss the notion that real love does heal our wounds. In my younger years I would have thought of that notion too trite. Having my children with me in my life has given me profound purpose and meaning. As small children, they looked to me as their constant, their calming force. They were my purpose for staying strong, stoic, steady. When they were little and even now, I give them my continued support. Also, it took me years of being single to allow myself to fall in love again. I feel thankful to my family and to my God that I have another chance at a lifetime partnership. So much healing has taken place but the memories in the emotions are still there. The muscle memories within the physical scars, are still there.

I see what those court advocate where talking about, all those years ago. I have come through the pain of a trial that allows me to empathize with the profound pain of others. Sharing my pain can save lives, or at least meeting others at their depths, so they feel less alone. Not that I have the answers, only the experience in the struggle to survive. I believe now, as a nurse (or soon to be) I can come along side someone and show them I understand what it’s like to be in pain. I can better understand where they’re at because of what I’ve been through. Not everyone is ready to hear a story like mine. A lot of times i get the, “ wide eyed, gaping mouth” reaction. But sometimes I meet someone who says, that it was what they needed to hear. It gives them the courage to set out on their own journey of survival. To start fresh, to start over if that’s what is necessary to start the healing process. As a massage therapist I deal with people and their physical pain all the time. I build care plans around strategies to begin the healing process. Many times, the physical pain is locked up with emotional pain underneath. I understand this, as I am there with them, letting them cry through their trauma. It’s a process that I feel privileged using my skills and abilities to aid in the healing.

#dv survivor #studyblr #nursingschool #healing from trauma #health and wellbeing #self care #battlescars #essay writing #kindness #be gentle with yourself

[soranihimawari]

who yuu loves

tagging: @smolbludandelions @m0nstergeneration20xx and anyone who loves the 5 W’s series event

|masterlist| >>

of all things to walk into, you were not expecting the bird you raised since it had long since been abandoned by it’s flock, to fly into the noisy gymnasium of your high school. classes had long since ended, but the boys volleyball club had an important match coming up, so you remembered takeda-sensei mentioning something about not having homework from his class for that day.

it wasn’t until you had arrived home and decompress that you found yourself climbing the fire escape of your parents’ apartment building to pay a visit to the birds you took care of. one of the oldest birds you took care of had been in your care since you turned twelve; he was a young crow hatchling whom you affectionally called ‘little brother.’ your mother had been terrified when you came home from middle school with a baby bird nuzzled against your neck, your father, on the other hand (who by trade was a vetenarian), shook his head.

“another one?” he asked once he noticed his wife staring daggers and mouthing something along the lines of ‘do something, she’s your kid too.’

“mmhm! i’m going to call him onii-chan since i don’t have a real one yet,” you said. the bird squawked in approval. you left your parents in the dining room after you took your leave and started to head toward the aviary up on the roof your building.

you said your greeting salutations for the flock while opening the cage of the aviary your father built during the summer you turned thirteen. your mother had given in through a series of compromise once she realized your love for your ‘onii-chan’ was the first of five crow siblings you’d surround yourself with in the days of your childhood.

since then, you were known amongst the neighborhood to be the girl with a murder flock. there were nasty rumors floating about you as you grew up and every school year, you were thankful you had two members of a certain sports club remained in your homeroom class after you began your first year at karasuno high school. nishinoya yuu and tanaka ryuunoske had similar personalities to a few of your feathery siblings once you got to know them in your first year attending karasuno. you also met the rest of the team formally during one of the practice matches prior to the start of your second year.

flash forward to this afternoon, you found yourself running back to campus after you explained to your mother beloved ‘onii-chan’ flew out of the cage probably because although you thought you heard the cage door shut, the lock must have finally fallen off. you had trained that bird through a series of conditioning encouragement treats the flight path to karasuno high. luckily, you were able to send a rushed text message to your two friends. with a blow of a whistle echoing throughout the walls of the gym, all talking ceased once you heard one of your senpai’s say, “there’s a bird in here.”

tanaka elbowed his best friend in the rib rather hard when the bird let out a raw squak.

“oi, noya, doesn’t that bird look like...?”

“shit, it is!” noya exclaimed excited upon glancing at the direction the bird call came from. after seeing your onii-chan with his best bud over the time he was suspended, noya knew you were close by. it was during this time too that noya had been called out for being a simp for two women and two women only: the goddess manager (kiyoko-senpai) and the queen of the northern sky (your nickname on his phone was always followed by a bird emoji & a cloud). tanaka, along with the rest of the second years who finally returned back to the folds of the team, had a boys night only sleepover called out noya for having a huge crush on you. noya couldn’t ever hide the ways his eyes lit up whenever you were within his line of sight, like right now when he saw your onii-chan flew past the highest point of his spiky hair.

“you two know this bird in particular?” sawamura-san, the captain of the team that year, asked them after the bird took its leave and settled on the railings of the second floor of the gym.

“not a bird captain-senpai,” you said in between catching your breath. the crow let out a triumphant caw. you tilt your head to the side to raise your forearm above your head. the bird flew toward your arm and perched itself there. you moved the bird to your shoulder with a soft smile.

“sorry if my onii-chan interrupted your practice guys,” you said, petting the bird under its beak. when your breathing finally returned to it’s natural rhythm, you had a cute grin strewn over your features when you placed your hands in your jacket pockets. “guess we’ll be going then. see you in class tomorrow noya. bye tanaka!”

there was another commotion altogether once you were off campus grounds.

“what a woman,” noya thought he said that to himself, unaware of his inability to control his vocal volume. he nearly combust on the spot because you named him first in your farewell. tanaka on the other hand had thought his spirit escape his body via his mouth when he saw you spoke so informally at their captain.

other members of the team made mocking kissing noises to tease their libero and their outside hitter.

“alright alright. enough of a break, let’s get back to work,” daichi instructed with loud clap.

“daichi, i don’t think we can,” his vice-captain states, nodding his head to the side of the court where noya.exe had stopped working.

the first and second years surrounded their teammates in a semi-circle.

“say noya,” ennoshita begins while folding his arms over his chest. there is a mischievous glint in his eyes. suddenly the other second years chuckle recalling the sleepover rankings of beauties in their year. “y/n-san is really pretty now that we’ve seen her in those yoga pants and tangerine jumper...”

that compliment broke noya’s brain even further. he was so close to coming back to reality and then with what ennoshita mentioned, the karasuno libero’s jaw went slack.  

“noya-senpai’s face is really red right now!” hinata yelled.

“where’s the first aid kit? tanaka stopped breathing too!” yamaguchi exclaimed while their new manager in training, yachi, handed him the small box.

one thing was certain, nishinoya was not going to give up pursuing you because after all, you were the one who he loves most.

when you climbed back up on the fire escape to reach the roof that evening, you replayed the events of the shenanigans your onii-chan pulled the an hour ago. you thought nothing of it as you prepared to close the aviary for the night after to scatter the evening seed blend for their dinner. your onii-chan fluttered about to his side of the cage, his ebony eyes sassing you about seeing your crush nearly passing out from what you opted to wear sans hoodie in that brisk spring evening rushing out the door when you realize that he broke out.

“don’t look at me like that chibi-chan,” you say in a chastising tone.

the trouble maker sqwaked a resounding “uh-huh.”

“it was worth seeing noya’s adorable face though, haha,” you glance at the bird again. “besides, you like him too so don’t start. g’night boys.”

after you climbed back down from the fire escape and back into your kitchen window, you bid your parents good night explaining to parents you needed to read the next few chapters for your classic literature class taking your curry bowl into your room.

the following morning, your alarm rung at six in the morning. you decided to scatter the bird food for your feather-clad brothers in arms. when your brain decided to remember the look noya and tanaka gave you when your adopted crow-brother perched on your arm, you chuckle to yourself, wrapping your wool scarf around your neck (your hair was slicked back by a headband) .

“today’s white day boys,” you whisper watching your breath hover in the frosty air. “who am i kidding? it’s not like either noya or tanaka wants to risk ruining our dynamic.”

as soon as you said that, you shook your head to clear the jumbling daydream of your ever slightly growing affections for the two of them.

“wish me luck & try not to escape this time, mmk?”

—later that morning—

when you arrived at karasuno’s campus grounds, you saw that someone left something in your personal locker. there was a post-it note with noya’s handwriting on it; his handwriting was a bit rushed judging by the smear on the date in the corner.

ʍąɾçհ 𝟙५, 

հҽɾҽ, վօմ ƒօɾցօէ էհìʂ ահҽղ վօմ Ӏҽƒէ էհҽ ցվʍ Ӏąʂէ ղìցհէ Ӏօѵҽ. 

-վօմɾ ցմąɾժìąղ ժҽìէվ

“hah,” you coo. “only you.”

after you read the note, a blush formed under the corners of your eye. using your dominiant hand, you reached back into the locker and trace a finger over the ivory kanji stitching on the team jacket. the faint scent of the gentle rain shower fabric softener reached your nose, you hugged the gift. 

when the first period bell rang, you shimmy out of your school sweater literally buzzing with excitement and put on noya’s team jacket. you pushed up the sleeves before you take your leave wandering into your classroom to view an ecstatic libero practically fainting on the spot while his best friend (and by default yours too) giving the buddhistivva face of prayer.

you stopped by noya’s desk thanking him for the jacket by planting a fleeting kiss on his cheek prior to your home room teacher coming in and you took the utmost pleasure in watching noya physically short circuit during roll call.

___________________________________________________________

noya’s letter in default font:

march 14,

here, you forgot this when you left the gym last night, love.

-your guardian deity

____________________________________________________________

tagging: @smolbludandelions & @m0nstergeneration20xx others looking for nishinoya fluff.

inspiration collage from various Pinterest arts & all content belongs to their original creators:

#noya x reader #nishinoya yuu x y/n #5W's entry #who yuu loves #fluffy libero crow x reader #1st short of the event #haikyu!! fiction #birthday boy noya #coincidentally posting it today

[highqueenofelfhame]

If she didn’t know any better, she would think that Dr. Whitethorn sounded skeptical of her as he asked if she was sure she had a fever. His fingers were cool as they kissed against her skin, rubbing circles behind her ears as he checked her lymph nodes. Aelin shrugged, supposing it wasn’t a lie if she didn’t verbally lie. There had been no fever, no physical ailments. In fact, she’d awoken feeling quite good that morning and had to cough her way through begging the receptionist to work her in with Dr. Whitethorn. 

“Aelin,” he sighed and rested his hands on either side of her legs, fingers splayed wide. “If you don’t tell me what’s going on, I can’t help you. I’m not going to skirt around an issue and send you off with antibiotics for you to build resistance to. So tell me what’s wrong.” 

Aelin’s head tilted to the side slightly almost like a predator assessing prey. Her blue eyes bored into his green ones. It wasn’t the first time that she’d thought about how handsome he was, about how she’d like to muss his hair with her fingers while he sent her over the edge over and over. He was far more handsome than she let herself think about most of the time, because school girl crushes on her doctor would do nobody any favors. But with his tattoo peeking out of the collar of his shirt and reappearing to curl over his fingertips, he was downright hot. He was also frustrated with her at the present moment, and she could read it all over his face. It only made her think he was hotter. 

Aelin could almost hear him telling her to stop wasting his time, he had other patients. And maybe that’s what he would have said next, but her eyes caught the way his eyes flicked down to her lips briefly. At least, she thought they did. Then again, there was no way her hot doctor had the hots for her. 

“I need to talk to you about my father. Well, my father, his super secret spy cadre, magic. There’s a list.” she said finally, pressing her lips into a thin line. Rowan pushed off the table and dropped down onto his stool, whatever moment they might have been having clearly lost. She really was losing it. “I know you worked for him.”

“You scheduled an emergency appointment with me to talk about Rhoe? You have my phone number, Aelin. You can call me and we can meet up somewhere that I’m not trying to actively save lives.” Aelin waved her hand dismissively. There was no life saving at his private practice. It wasn’t like she’d gone to the ER on a night that she knew he’d be working. 

It wasn’t like the numerous times when she’d gone to pit fights and called the hospital before to make sure Rowan was the doctor on call. If she was going to have to be seen by someone, she was going to make sure he was at least easy on the eyes. 

“You’re my doctor, how was I supposed to know you’d be interested in having coffee with me to talk about anything other than the stupid shit I manage to do to my body?” The good doctor sketched a brow, lips tugging up at the corners. 

“You make it sound like you’re going to take me out for coffee and try to steal my virtue after.” If, and only if, she wasn’t mistaken, it sounded like amusement lacing his words. “I’m more than happy to talk to you about the work I did for your father.”

“No to the date then?” She tried. Aelin was only half joking, but he didn’t need to know that. Especially when his answer was an eyeroll as he stood and reached for the door handle. 

“I’ll see you later.” With a shake of his head that she could only assume was disapproval, he left her sitting there alone. It was a good thing she’d been healthy today, otherwise Dr. Whitethorn might just be the worst doctor ever. 

~*~

Lazily swirling her fingers around the rim of the cup of hot cocoa she held, Aelin sighed as she watched the dimming sky. Marshmallows covered the top layer of the delicious liquid, melting together into one sweet and creamy glaze that didn’t fail to leave a white mustache behind with every sip. Soft music played through the cafe speakers and from different places around the room she could hear soft murmurs between friends and lovers alike. The clicking of keys echoed through the room as college students worked tirelessly on essays or business men typed up last minute emails. Every time the whoosh of the door sounded, her eyes raised, expecting the doctor to walk through the doors. It took what felt like an eternity, but finally it was his familiar green eyes that met hers across the room and, upon spotting her, crossed to slide into the booth across from her. Rowan ruffled his fingers through his silver hair as he leaned back in his seat and flashed her a grin. It occurred to her all at once that she’d never seen him out of a lab coat, and that she would very much like to see more of him like this. 

“Dr. Whitethorn,” she greeted, locking blue eyes with his. Rowan cocked a brow and his lips formed a hard line. 

“I really wish you’d just call me Rowan,” he said flatly.

His face showed no sign of emotion whatsoever as she bit her lip and shrugged a shoulder. It seemed she was entirely unable to keep her nerves at bay. Nerves of what, she wasn’t sure. Something about the setting and the man sitting in front of her had her leg bouncing anxiously under the table. Maybe it was fear of finding out things she wasn’t ready to hear, maybe it was just the sharp lines and structure of his face as he looked at her with nothing forgiving on his face. There was something, though, about the slight crease between his brow, or maybe it had been the way he had been painfully attractive to look at when he’d smiled at her as he slid in the booth. Either way, there was a blush creeping up her neck that had her eyes dropping to her drink. 

“Well, Rowan.” Aelin exaggerated his name, drawing out the vowels in a way that had his eyes crinkling as though he were trying to fight back a smile. She wished he wouldn’t. “I want to know what you know about the work my father was doing. Fenrys doesn’t know much, the internet knows less. So much doesn’t make sense to me but I don’t really have anyone else to turn to. I want to know what they were looking into.” Rowan’s eyes met hers and his lips formed that hard, thin line again. 

“I’ve… had a theory,” he began, knuckles turning white from how tightly bound his fists were, “that your accident wasn’t an accident. That Connall’s wasn’t either. Sam and Connall knew more than the rest of us did. A few days before your accident, Aelin, your father mentioned that there was something he wanted to bring to the table. He never got to. Connall was a wreck the days after, and then he ended up dead, too. Same semi-truck, same car accident where the driver fled the scene. I don’t know if anyone else has ever thought so, but it’s always struck me as bizarre.” As he spoke, the blood was draining from her features. Suddenly she felt very dizzy and she laid her hands flat on the table to give her some sort of anchor to the real world. He thought they were murdered? Rowan was quiet now, or if he’d kept talking she hadn’t heard a lick of what he said. When she looked at him, met his eyes, he was giving her the space to process and think. Aelin frowned.

“You think they were murdered for it.” Not a question.

“I think they were murdered because they uncovered something, maybe something to do with magic disappearing,  that they weren’t supposed to and the wrong — or right — people found out,” he said. “For your sake, I’ve held off on looking into it. I didn’t want to be wrong, I didn’t want to bring it to you if I couldn’t back it up somehow.” 

“Why tell me now?” 

“Because you’re asking.  Because it means you found something in the bunker and if you didn’t find something insanely weird about any of it, you wouldn’t be asking me in the first place. But you’re curious. You’re not fine with what little information Fenrys could give. You have the same curiosity your dad had, I’ve known that for as long as I’ve known you.” Aelin had been aware of knowing Rowan since she was nineteen. That was when their interactions had started. She was curious to know if he had known her for longer, though. It took a beat, but Aelin finally nodded because he was right. He was also right about the deaths not being accidental. At least, she hadn’t thought so since Fenrys had brought up his twin’s accident. It was just almost jarring to find that someone else agreed. 

Aelin poked the marshmallow foam on the hot chocolate and licked it off her finger, quietly processing what Rowan had told her he suspected. Something hadn’t seemed right to her. For her parents, for Sam to keep something like this from her, there had to be a reason. There had to be something more to it, to this life. The only reason Aelin could think that her would-be fiance and her parents would keep something like this from her was to keep her safe and protected. Maybe the people that staged the accidents didn’t even know that Aelin was still alive to uncover whatever legacy had been left behind. She never went back to school and had ended up slumming it. Hadn’t taken up her title as Lady of Orynth. It would have been easy to miss it, to overlook that maybe she lived.

Again, her foot bounced anxiously as she looked over the table at a man that had perhaps known her family better than she had. Rowan was watching her intently. 

“Will you help me look into this? Dig into it more? I don’t want to take it to Fen yet. I don’t want to tell him his twin was murdered if he wasn’t. I don’t,” she sighed and rubbed her eyes with her thumb and forefinger. “I don’t want to do it alone, either.” But Rowan was already nodding, had started nodding as soon as the question had left her lips. He was willing to help her no matter the cost. It almost made her eyes burn. “I want to search his private study at the manor. See if there’s anything on his computer. I doubt there is, but we can always go back to the bunker after.”

“I have files of my own that I can bring over, let you sift through. I can take a half day from the practice on Friday. Give us the weekend to work through everything,” he suggested, eyes locking with hers. For some reason that she chose to ignore, her breath hitched in her throat. 

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeated, quietly, softly. She paused, tapping her hands to the table once before she stood and nodded a thanks and goodbye to him. “Aelin?”

“Yeah?” She turned, her golden hair tumbling down her back as she looked down at him.

“Be careful,” he said, voice low. One of his hands was half outstretched as though he wanted to brush their fingers but thought better of it. Aelin bit her bottom lip but nodded and tucked her hands into her pockets before stepping out onto the street. 

With the sun setting, it was beautiful. Had she not just found out that her parents may have been murdered, it would have been the most beautiful sunset she had ever seen. 

~*~

Leaves danced around her feet as she trudged toward the doors and she made a point to stomp on them just for the satisfying crunch of dead leaves and snow. A train screeched not too far-off in the distance behind her, the vibration of the locomotive rattling her bones with every step she took. The whirring of metal on metal as it thundered past, whipping up its own biting wind, had the ends of her hair slapping her cheeks with a stinging ferocity. The proximity of the train to the gym was something that annoyed her on a regular basis. Every time they rolled through, it broke her concentration by rattling the windows and quaking the floors. It never failed to startle her out of her skin when they blew their horns. 

Upon entering the gym, the smell of sweat and musk that hit her nose caused it to wrinkle. Fists were punching bodies and bags, the sound of metal on metal as weights were dropped back onto their racks filled her ears with a certain melody that could only be found in a gym. In her time going there, she had seldom seen another woman come to this side of town to work out. She wondered if that would be different if they knew what the gym owner happened to look like, though. 

Fenrys was nowhere to be seen, so she tossed her bag into one of the cubbies against the back wall and moved to the hand-weights to begin her normal routine. She zoned out entirely, counting the repetitions and sets over and over, doing her best to not focus on the aching in her right hand. By the time she’d finished her typical arm day routine, sweat was beginning to drop down her temples and the dip of her spine. She moved to the treadmill, ready to start cardio after doing a few leg stretches, and settled into an easy jog. 

It was a good half hour before Fenrys walked into the gym. He was tying his golden curls up into a knot on the top of his head as he laughed about something. When he was out of the doorway, Aelin noticed Rowan’s silver hair bobbing along behind him with a slight grin on his lips and his eyes light with amusement. Fen winked at Aelin when they passed, Rowan offering her a smile she couldn’t remember having seen before. He must have been in an incredible mood. 

Both of the massive ex-military men disappeared into Fen’s office for a while, and when they returned they were both wrapping their hands in white tape. It looked like, to her own amusement, they were getting ready to fight each other. Luckily for her, she’d picked her favorite treadmill which happened to be directly in front of the fighting mats. Aelin watched with an emotion she could only relate to as glee when they bumped fists and settled into fighting stances. Rowan rocked onto the balls of his bare feet, shaking out his arms and hands. She watched as he rolled his neck a few times, the clicking sound of bones popping giving her goosebumps over her arms. In a swift and easy movement, he pulled his shirt up and over his head and her mouth went just about bone dry. 

His tanned skin was more muscular and perfect than she could have imagined. Rowan looked to be made of nothing but raw muscle, or maybe he was even just made of marble, she couldn’t be sure. Every dip and curve of his body, his abdomen, seemed to be nothing but pure art. Perfect was the only word for him, beautiful the only other word that finally dinged when her brain started making coherent thoughts again. In some ways, she found him to be more beautiful than Fenrys, which was absurd. 

The tattoo that she had only seen a preview of took up the entire left side of his chest and arm, covering his skin in a way that accented every single thing about his body. It was stunning, the way the words and markings twisted around every curve of his form in the Old Language. She found herself itching to wander closer, to run her fingers over the lines and learn everything it said from start to finish. His eyes caught hers the same time she went to lick her lips and she was immediately sporting a blush that started at her chest and rose to her cheeks. Aelin’s feet stumbled and she nearly tripped off the treadmill entirely. Gods above, she really wasn’t kidding about that date now. 

Rowan didn’t even have to look back at Fenrys to stop the oncoming blow. It was too easy for him to knock his fist out of the way while still making eye contact with Aelin. Then, though, he re-focused on the task at hand and they started to really go for it. Watching them fight was like watching two people dance. They moved in an odd synchrony with the other, the way two dancers might dance a pas de deux, the way an orchestra would rise and fall with its conductor. 

The longer they fought, the more their bodies glistened with sweat. She kept running, not breaking pace until the treadmill began to slow down on its own. Her six miles were up. 

Aelin stepped off after the cool down period, shaking her arms to loosen her body as she did. Then she stepped onto the edge of the fighting mat, watching the two men punch, block, and kick each other. They moved smoothly and quickly, so much that she managed to miss some of the hits entirely. Gods, they were fast. So fast that she didn’t even register one of Rowan’s hits that had Fen stumbling back a few paces. Quicker than lightning, Rowan was on top of Fenrys, who tried to get his legs around Rowan but failed miserably. The doctor made a low, hoarse laugh as his thighs wrapped around his sparring partner’s neck, tightening until Fenrys swore and tapped out. 

Rowan was grinning like a fiend when he hopped to his feet, helping Fenrys back up shortly after. Fen was glowering at the other man, breathing heavily as Aelin began a slow clap while she walked toward them. There was a reason, she realized, that this man was a legend among men. 

Up close, she could see scars lighter than the rest of his skin that showed just how that legend was created. One in particular that was nestled in the left line of his Adonis belt looked like a gunshot wound and something twisted in her gut. Several others could have been from knives, shrapnel, cats, who knew. Aelin lifted her eyes to his to find that, once again, he was watching her, too. To avoid the awkwardness of how thoroughly she’d been assessing his body, she poked the rounded scar with rough edges low on his waist.  Her fingernail scratched his skin, and a slight smirk worked onto her lips when gooseflesh erupted over his torso. She looked up at him.

“What’s that from?” 

“I got shot on a deployment to the Wastes,” he said, eyes not leaving hers.

“Someone wanted to play hero. I had to drag his ass to cover so he didn’t die,” Fenrys was grinning at the memory. Rowan merely shook his head. 

“Let us not forget the time that you played hero and without my ass, you’d be dead, boyo.” Rowan punctuated his sentence with a jab to Fen’s ribs and Aelin snorted. 

“Are you ready to train?” She asked, addressing Fenrys as she adjusted her ponytail but he shook his head.

“Actually, I was thinking you could train with Whitethorn today.” Aelin and Rowan both looked at Fenrys with surprise gleaming in their eyes. Rowan shrugged the same time that Aelin blurted a “What?” in response. 

“He’s just going to criticize everything I do anyway,” Fenrys said, and Rowan nodded in agreement. So Aelin turned on her heel to look at Dr. Whitethorn, teeth grazing over her bottom lip as she did. 

“Well then, Rowan,” she drug out the syllables of his name like she had the first time she said it, like she was still getting used to the way that it fell off her lips. “Shall we?”

“Not until you get that arm in your sling.” His fingers lightly touched the elbow of the hand he had so carefully reconstructed, and Aelin knew that he would be pissed if he knew she’d done weights before he had arrived at the gym for the evening. Was she overusing her hand? Yes. Did it hurt? Absolutely. Was she going to stop? Definitely not. But to save herself from an argument that she would only end up losing, she walked over to her gym back and retrieved the sling from its depths. Rowan had walked over with her and carefully helped her adjust it to her body, his fingers brushing against her bare skin below her sports bra. It wasn’t the first time he had ever touched her there, but it was certainly the first time that fire had erupted over where his fingertips kissed her skin. Aelin swallowed, narrowing her eyes at Fenrys who shrugged and dropped down onto the bench at the edge of the mat. 

She turned back to the doctor, who was brushing his hair back off his forehead. Aelin shook her free hand, bouncing back and forth on her toes while she waited for a swing that never came. He merely shook his head and walked to stand behind her. 

“Your legs are good, but hold your body from here,” he murmured, breath stirring the loose strands of hair by her ear. A slight shock shot through her body as he pressed his hand flat against her stomach, silently telling her to draw her strength from her core. Aelin nodded, and he moved to stand in front of her. A slight inclination of his head told her he approved of her stance. 

“I told her that,” Fenrys grumbled behind them, causing Aelin to shoot him a glare. He had most certainly not told her that, and the amusement on Rowan’s face told her he knew that Fenrys hadn’t, either. 

The lesson went on, different than anything she’d done with Fen. Where Fenrys would critique what skill she already had, Rowan took the time to correct her form or tell her how to make certain moves more effective. He encouraged her to kick at him full force and he perfected where her foot made contact at his side. When he’d stumbled back, he grinned widely at her.

“Good, good. Keep throwing your whole body into it like that.”

By the time they called it quits, the sun was setting and her body ached. When she got home, she submerged herself deep in a tub of boiling water and epsom salts to ease the pain. 

#cy6 #carry you #carry you 6 #i'm not going to tag anyone and see how this chapter does without tags #just an experiment #rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin ashryver galathynius #tog #throne of glass #tog fanfic #throne of glass fanfic #fanfic

[bumble-lee3]

Not what it seems

Summary: semi- Ron Weasley x gender neutral!reader (it never really goes anywhere). When Ron goes to a muggle school to learn new things, he had no idea what to expect. He definitely didn’t expect y/n. A late entry for @can-youimagine ‘s Disney write-a-thon that I wrote instead of doing my drama assignment. Also, I don’t think I’ve ever written this many words for fun.

Word count: 1357

Warnings: kinda a rushed ending, nothing else I can think of

Prompt: And you’re watching Disney channel - something inspired by your favourite Disney channel show/movie (wizards of waverley place)

On Ronald Weasley’s first day at a muggle school, he was extremely uncomfortable. He was the new kid, he didn’t know anybody, he had gotten lost three times within the first hour, and most importantly, Ronald Weasley was not allowed to use magic. The thought of not being able to do any magic for fear of exposing the wizarding world was almost impossible to face after seeing people use magic every day of his life so far.

His one saving grace was being allowed, after much argument with his mother, to bring his wand with him on the condition that he hid it in his clothes.

Actually, scratch that, he had two saving graces. The other, though he would not know until just before lunch, was another student from one of his classes, something called ‘kalkulas’.

Y/n was undoubtedly the most notable student in the class, with an outlandish and eccentric style of clothing, jewellery that would practically blind anyone unlucky enough to be caught in the reflection of the harsh classroom lights, and a tendency to say whatever thought came to them no matter the audience or potential consequences.

The first instance of this barely registered to Ron. He was too consumed in trying to grasp any concepts more complex than simple multiplication and division (Hermione had helped him with the basics of math). Nevertheless, the professor - no, they’re just teachers in the muggle world- had made a mistake, and y/n had taken it upon themself to point it out and give the correct answer. No big deal, right? Right.

The real trouble came with the third instance of y/n’s tendency to disregard any boundaries of their peers (the second instance was y/n telling a girl in their class named Alex to stop gossiping with her friend). Ron definitely noticed this one. In fact, he wasn’t entirely sure that it was possible for anyone to not notice the moment that y/n pointed out (quite loudly mind you) his ineptitude for maths.

“How on earth did you manage to get that so wrong? I mean, I understand that it’s the first day back, but surely you haven’t forgotten your times’ tables!?” The seemingly shocked questions rang out through the quiet din of chatter that had filled the room, closely followed by muffled snickers from various students as they turned to look at Ron.

As he felt the heat creeping up past his shirt collar, Ron attempted to cover his work from view before turning to y/n and mumbling out an excuse. “I used to go to a school where math was an elective… I only know the basics.” Technically, he hadn’t told a lie. Arithmancy had always sounded boring compared to Care of Magical Creatures and the easy pass of Divination.

Quickly realising Ron’s embarrassment at being called out in front of the class, y/n moved their seat closer to his before replying in a hushed whisper.

“Really? That sounds so cool! But if you didn’t learn maths, what were you learning?”

“Umm, history… cooking,” brewing potions is kind of like cooking, right? “We learnt about caring for animals once we were old enough.” Finding muggle equivalents to Hogwarts classes wasn’t as hard as Ron had thought it would be.

“Oh wow, your old school sounds either really traditional or really modern and I can’t decide which. Either way, I wish I could do classes like that without having to do dumb stuff like calculus. Like, really when am I going to use this?!” Apologising to the surrounding classmates who were quite surprised at the sudden increase of volume, y/n continued questioning Ron. But this question didn’t have such an easy answer. “Which school did you go to?”

What to do, what to do. Ron had three options: lie completely and come up with a random school name (which could easily be disproven), tell the truth that he went to a school for wizards with a boy who saved the world (absolutely not), or give some vague answer that, while it may raise suspicion, would not break the Statute of Secrecy. Ron went with the latter.

“I went to a boarding school in Scotland. And, yeah, I guess you could say that we weren't the most ‘normal’ school, but it’s pretty fun living with all your mates for seven years, so I think that makes up for it.”

“Woah.” Y/n didn’t say anything for a few moments, just sat there contemplating something completely unknown to Ron. He was about to try and fill the silence before they piped up again. “I honestly don’t know how you survived bunking with a bunch of boys all going through puberty at the same time. That sounds like a nightmare.” Ron might have felt offended (hey, he was one of those pubescent boys) if it weren’t for the playful half-grin that y/n was giving him.

“I mean, yeah it was a little bit weird sometimes. I’ve never really thought about it that much before though.”

“Oh god, I have so many questions now. I sincerely hope you’re ready for this.” The grin had grown across y/n’s face, quickly spreading their excitement to Ron as well.

By the time calculus was over, the two were chatting like old friends. They had formed a new friendship, and neither could be happier to have someone else to spend their time with.

~~~

Ronald Weasley hadn’t meant for this to happen, it just did. Well, he hadn’t meant to be caught. But hopefully, it would be okay and y/n wouldn’t hate him. In fact, it might make their friendship even stronger.

Ronald Weasley had just broken the Statute of Secrecy by performing unnecessary magic in front of a muggle.

It was stupid, really. He was only trying to make y/n laugh. His plan was to make Mrs Moss drop the pile of papers she was holding - relashio is a relatively simple spell - without being noticed. Obviously, that last part hadn’t quite gone as planned. And now, Ron had to deal with the fallout.

Taking advantage of the laughing class and the shock that had taken over y/n, Ron quickly whispered that they could talk at the end of the lesson before turning back to his work and ignoring the feeling y/n’s stare burning into his face. The wait was excruciating. The two both spent the entire lesson with scenarios ranging from good to catastrophic racing through their minds.

Y/n was sure that they’d gone crazy. There was no way that plain, funny, awkward Ronald Weasley had made Mrs Moss drop those papers. Because magic didn’t - no, couldn’t - exist as far as y/n was aware. But then why had Ron been waving that stick around? And why had the papers only dropped after he said something? The only reasonable solution was that y/n had officially lost their mind.

But no, that’s not what happened at all according to Ron. But what he said didn’t really sound any more plausible than madness in the beginning.

When the conversation finally came, it was brief and full of disbelief. Ron had pulled y/n over to an empty hallway where he would risk his, and the entire magical world’s, safety with a single interaction; “I’m a wizard. The school I used to go to is a school for wizards, and I can do magic.” He wasn’t entirely sure why he spilt his biggest secret to a muggle he’d only known for a few weeks, but it felt safe. He trusted y/n.

“No. That- that can’t be true.” The shock and confusion across y/n’s face was as plain as day. There had to be another explanation. But what if there wasn’t.

Ron couldn’t bear the look he was being given, y/n had to believe him. “I swear, it is. Let me prove it.” His soft tone dropped to a whisper as a glowing silver Jack Russell Terrier burst forth from his wand, lighting up y/n’s now smiling and awestruck face.

“I believe you Ron. I have so many questions”

#canyouimaginedisney #my writing #she speaks #ron weasley #harry potter #ron x reader #ron weasley x reader #ron weasley imagine #harry potter au #muggle au #post battle of hogwarts #fanfic #fanfiction #harry potter imagine #disney

[miller-day]

hi everyone!!

during the semi-hiatus i took from tumblr i became obsessed with psych (people who follow me on twitter know) and i even started writing about it. i thought it would be so funny to see how a crossover between shawn/gus and sherlock/watson would go, so i took it upon myself to make it happen. i’ve only written 6 pages of it but i’m thinking about going forward and writing more, but firstly i wanted to know if it’s actually worth it so i’m posting what i wrote on here and i hope that if ANYONE actually reads it and enjoys it, then let me know <3

(none of the characters are mine)

“Shawn Spencer. Psychic detective.” Watson shifts his glance from the open newspaper on the coffee table to Sherlock, who’s standing in the kitchen and looking like a misplaced giant, his 6 feet of flesh and bones (or just bones) still forming a comical comparison with the small-dimensioned furniture of their apartment, most of it bought by equally small-dimensioned Mrs. Hudson. “I see you’re now interested in the supernatural?”

 Sherlock scoffs. “Please. You know my demon-hunting days are long past.”

 Watson waits for Sherlock to develop his last statement, even though he’s not sure he actually wants to hear more of it, but his roommate’s attention seems to have been captured by the stirring sounds he’s making with the teaspoon against the glass of his mug. “What’s this doing here, then?”

 Sherlock doesn’t look at him to know what he was referring to. He goes about as though Watson’s presence in the room is as dispensable as a fly on a summer day, something you dismiss with a single hand motion and move on, and sits on his usual red sofa. Watson rolls his eyes, not yet immune to Sherlock’s peculiar way of being even after almost two years of friendship, and throws the newspaper onto his lap rather angrily, to which Sherlock replies, “Hey!”

 “Shawn Spencer,” Watson says, pointing at the bold black letters on the top of the page that’s facing Sherlock, the phrase PSYCHIC DETECTIVE SHAWN SPENCER SAVES THE CITY OF SANTA BARBARA FROM ANOTHER KILLING SPREE making its loud announcement above a picture of two guys proudly smiling in front of a police station. “You were reading this.”

 “How observant,” Sherlock replies, rolling his eyes. “Maybe you should be the one solving the crimes and I should be the one writing about it on my blog.”

 Watson exhales angrily. “Why are you avoiding this topic?”

 “It’s not so much avoiding this specific topic as much as it is me avoiding you,” Sherlock stops to take a sip of his tea. “I’m busy.”

 Watson rubs his left temple in an attempt to soothe the vein he’s foreseeing popping in a couple of seconds. “If you say so.”

 He ends up sitting dramatically on the opposing couch. They’re both silent for a while, Watson with his eyes closed and his head resting against the cushion, Sherlock noticing the rhythm of his best friend’s chest rising and falling as he approaches, slowly, the realm of sleep.

 “Alright, fine. Do you want to discuss this?” Watson opens his eyes in surprise at Sherlock’s sudden rupture of the room’s previous quietness. “I think the guy is obviously a con-man.”

 Watson blinks, noticeably distressed. “What makes you so sure?”

 “Oh, come on. Please don’t tell me you believe this bullshit.” Sherlock says, his sarcastic laugh creating an itch on his roommate’s skin, then places his mug on a table nearby. “You’ve believed worse, though, so I’m not exactly shocked.”

 “I just asked a question. I think the guy deserves the benefit of the doubt.”

 Sherlock’s expression is void of any inclination towards an agreement with Watson and giving the psychic even the tiniest bit of credibility. Crime-solving, as far as he is concerned, is an art, a study of the human brain, a test of one’s skills in terms of impulse-control and harmony of the senses, a practice no one can ever master in its entirety, and for someone to taint its name with something so low and idiot as an alleged psychic ability only makes him furious. The worst part, he thinks, is that people aren’t contesting it at all — the guy managed to make his name go from Santa Barbara to London after all, and from the looks of it, he has the entire local police department on his side.

 “Oh, don’t start,” he says, a tone of annoyance dripping from the edge of his words.

 “With what?” Watson asks, a little amused.

 “With your whole thing,” Sherlock gestures vaguely with his hands. “You’re free to think what you choose—”

 “How kind of you.”

 “—but I won’t let you waste my time with arguments in his defense. He either has someone on the inside or he actually solves the crimes, but I won’t acknowledge any talent on his part if he’s doing something so stupid as hiding under the pretense of ‘communications with the supernatural’,” he does the air-quotes mockingly, “or whatever term he uses to call it.”

 “Are you jealous because the spirits like him better than you do?” Watson asks, a smile of mockery slowly taking form on his lips. “I’m sure if you’re kinder to people they might just come around to talk. Y’know, if you’re a good bloke and all that.”

 “You’re thinking about Santa Claus, Watson, but given that he’s not any more real than whatever powers your little Shawn Spencer claims to possess, I suppose it’s a valid assumption.”

 “He has a partner. You know that, right?”

 “Who? Spencer or Santa?”

 “Shawn Spencer, obviously,” Watson replies. “You said you think he has someone on the inside, and he’s not alone in that picture. He works with someone.”

 “Oh, but I meant inside the police department, to give him information and such. The man on the picture is his...” Sherlock sighs. “Best friend, I guess. As if they couldn’t get more embarrassing.”

 Watson throws his head back in laughter and Sherlock stares blankly at him. “What?”

 “Nothing! It’s just...” He puts his hand over his mouth, then itches the back of his head, still smiling. “If you think about it, they’re kind of like us.”

 Sherlock’s face has an expression about it that makes him look as though he’s taken a bite out of a lemon. “What do you mean?”

 Watson hasn’t stopped giggling, and Sherlock looks at him with puzzlement, expecting an answer.

 “I mean, they’re two friends who solve crimes together.” Watson replies, his tone an indication of how obvious the comparison is.

 “I don’t suppose you’re suggesting I’m the Spencer in this scenario?”

 “Well, you’re the one who’s always going on with the ‘you see, but you don’t observe’ bullshit. I always thought you meant it literally, but perhaps you meant something more... metaphysical? Seeing like a psychic, maybe?”

 Sherlock stands up abruptly. “This isn’t funny, Watson.”

 Watson chuckles. “Agree to disagree.”

 “You know, I’m positive I could expose that Spencer within seconds of meeting him,” Sherlock says, and starts pacing around the room like his thoughts are too fast in his mind for him to be still. “His partner, for instance—”

 “I think you meant his best friend.” The smile of mischief is still there.

 “Is a pharmaceutical salesman. What does this tell you?”

 Watson furrows his brows in confusion. “That he has a discount on paracetamol?”

 “You’re useless. Utterly, completely useless,” Sherlock replies. “How did you even manage to get a medical degree?”

 “Oh, well, they just give it around these days,” Watson rests his elbows on his thighs and places his face on his hands, a Little-Mermaid-like position that weirdly fits him. “Showing up is pretty much the only requirement.”

 Sherlock ignores his roommate’s response and continues, this time more to himself than as a contribution to their conversation. “Shawn Spencer’s partner having another job is an indication that their whole business isn’t as solid as they make it seem. It might be to help with the money for rent and transportation and such, but it could also be that the financial guarantee he’s seeking is preparation for the moment when Shawn is inevitably exposed for being a fake.” Sherlock stops and scans Watson for an indication of him having been convinced. “Or he just had that job before this scam started and doesn’t trust Spencer to keep it for much longer, at least not enough to make him quit.”

 Watson rests his back against the cushion again. “I don’t know what you’re trying to accomplish with this bit, make me hate the guys?”

 “No, of course not. I just want to show you the other side of things, the real side. But you can choose to live in this delusion as much as you want. I mean, go ahead. Keep thinking the supernatural actually exists! I’m sure it helps you sleep at night.”

 Watson rolls his eyes and angrily grabs the newspaper, which, at this point, is on the floor, having been stepped on by Sherlock at least five times, and his eyes immediately fall on the picture. The one whom he reads is Shawn is on the left, plaid shirt and cocky grin giving him the appearance of an average guy you wouldn’t be surprised to see eating chicken wings or making obscure references to movies from the 80s. His hand is up as though he’s waving to the crowd in front of him, not even a little bit worried about his unconventional methods being an easy target of judgment. He looks like he belongs there, Watson realizes, and for a second he almost wishes he knew those guys. The best friend/partner, Burton Guster, is on the right, his hand placed on his chest in a gesture that would suggest humbleness if it weren’t for his facial expression, a look about him that seems equally receptive of the recognition and praise as Shawn is. He’s wearing a buttoned shirt that’s tucked under his pants with a belt, and the two of them form such a distinct contrast to each other that Watson finds it rather amusing. He can’t help but think about the many pictures of him and Sherlock that have appeared on the newspaper over the years, and he wonders if people have analyzed them the way he’s analyzing Shawn and Guster at this moment. They can undoubtedly notice Sherlock’s arrogance and Watson’s shyness from the capture of a lens, but can they also see his excitement, Sherlock’s determination, the deep and unspoken connection the two of them share but hardly ever acknowledge? Can they understand what motivates them from within, the drive for justice, the thrill of the chase pumping in their veins?

 “I think you’re being too harsh with them,” Watson says simply, putting the newspaper on the couch next to him.

 “How come?” Sherlock replies. “I think I’m being perfectly adequate.”

 “I don’t know,” he crosses his arms. “It’s just... Okay. Let’s suppose he is indeed faking his powers.”

 Sherlock points a finger at him. “Which he totally is.”

 Watson ignores him and continues, “Does that inherently mean he’s a bad person?” Sherlock stares at him, silent. “He has put a lot of bad people in jail, and no doubt has saved a lot of lives in the process... Doesn’t that give him a little bit of credit?”

 Sherlock takes a deep breath. He doesn’t respond immediately; instead, he walks to the window and gazes at the street below, strangers passing by with shopping bags and dogs on leashes and briefcases on hand, the sounds of London fading away as background noise as he concentrates on details of the everyday life. He notices the mark of a ring on the girl with the dog’s finger, the dust on the shoe of the guy with the briefcase, the small tear on the shopping bag carried by the woman. He absorbs all of it in, knowing none of this information is relevant to his existence, and takes a deep breath.

 He’s reminded of a babysitter he used to have back in the day. Susan Carter. She was, in theory, hired to take care of both him and Mycroft, but Sherlock’s brother, even in his youth, acted like someone older than his age, someone who could take plenty of care of himself even though he was still sleeping with a night light on and occasionally peeing his pants. Sherlock didn’t like Susan very much — he actually felt that way about pretty much everyone at that time, but with her it was especially intense because she’d spend the entire day checking in on him. He couldn’t just simply tune her out diving into the depths of his mind castle, because it was a guarantee she’d be there too, her high-pitched auntie voice asking him questions like, “Do you want some tea, Lockie?” or “Want me to read you a story?” Never mind the fact that she was merely doing her job, one which he was aware she was being paid for incredibly well (it wasn’t easy to find someone willing to accept employment in the Holmes residence those days): he wanted her out of his sacred place, expelled out of his house like a virus after an antibody attack.

 His will ended up being his way, in the end. Susan decided to quit after Mycroft put laxatives in her tea one day, and all of this happened because she had entered his room, without knocking, and caught him during one of his private costume sessions. Mycroft would sometimes spend hours alone in his room doing this — one day he’d be a king from the Victorian times, ordering the toys in his room to attend to his commands, and the other he’d be Britain’s first astronaut setting foot on the moon. Sherlock was never allowed in, even though he’d usually want to, much to his own dismay, and when his nanny caught Mycroft dressed up as Shakespeare in the middle of a reenactment of his own play, Mycroft decided it was best to put matters into his own hands. Or, really, the poor lady’s digestive system, which got torn to shreds after that tea. Sherlock was glad to see her gone, but it sadly wasn’t much long before another nanny stepped in to take her post, and the others after her blended together to create one amorphous being in his mind, all identities a dense cloud of memories he, to this day, associates with despair and annoyance.

 What made Susan stand out amongst them was the fact that she liked tarot cards. Sherlock always thought of it all as rather stupid and tried to avoid her “sessions” as much as possible, but sometimes she managed to catch him in the sofa, staring at the ceiling or memorizing the patterns of the paintings on the wall, and she’d say “let’s have a reading, Lockie! You’re not really doing anything much now, aren’t you?”, to which he’d have no reply. He’d sometimes run away to the garden, but other times he’d admit defeat and sit next to her on the dinner table, and she’d spread the cards and explain the meaning of every one of them, even the ones which weren’t chosen by Sherlock. Surprisingly, he’d sometimes find himself enjoying those moments, especially when Susan’s eyes would sparkle with excitement and he’d wonder if one day he’d ever feel that way about anything. She’d maneuver the cards with the utmost gentleness, like they were thin pieces of glass she could drop and break at any moment, and he’d almost let himself smile. He never would, though, because he was still a Holmes, therefore still genetically indisposed for such an act.

 Sherlock later in his life learned that Susan had died not long after she quit her job as his nanny. She was murdered by an ex-boyfriend who needed some money and was leeching off of her and the tiny, almost inexistent amount she had. She was stabbed eight times in her own living room, the very same Susan who would put an extra spoonful of sugar in his afternoon tea even though his mother’s orders were of strictly one. Sherlock hated himself the day he found out. When his mother told him over the phone, bile crawled up to the back of his throat and left in it a bitter taste that lasted until the next morning. Sherlock wanted to punch someone, punch himself. The murderer had already been caught by that point, but Sherlock wanted badly to be the one who had found him, perhaps because he felt like he owed something to Susan. He couldn’t catch his own eyes in the mirror for a while after that discovery.

 “I think I’m going to bed.”

 Watson blinks in surprise. “It’s five in the afternoon.”

 Sherlock wraps the belt of his robe on his stomach. “I am very tired.” He gives the reply as though it was an act of courtesy on his part, unneeded.

 “You said you were busy about three minutes ago.”

 He slumps his shoulders in a dramatic gesture like there’s a sudden weight on them he can’t bother to carry, and then straightens his posture again. “Haven’t you heard of procrastination, Watson? My being tired at this very moment doesn’t exclude my desire to sleep.”

 Watson narrows his eyes, bites his lower lip. “You’re planning something.”

 Sherlock fakes an appalled look. “I am going to bed. Think of that what you will.”

 He starts making his way across the living room and Watson says, “Tell me what you’re thinking!”

 “Ask your friend Spencer to tell you that! He’s a psychic, he’ll figure it out!” He’s halfway through the hallway by now, his screams reverberating against the walls.

 “You’re forgetting your tea!”

 “You can have it, it’s too sweet for me anyway!” is the reply before Sherlock closes the door and creates a vacuum in the room from the instant end of the conversation.

 Watson groans in frustration. “I could kill him. And I think I could get away with it. Except he’d solve the bloody thing in the afterlife. Oh, Watson, you were such a fool, left the clues right there for everyone to see!” He mimics Sherlock’s posh way of speaking.

 He picks up the mug Sherlock left on the table and takes a sip. “A perfectly good tea, also. That bastard.” Watson’s tone of voice is annoyed, but as he takes another sip, there’s a smile on his face.

#psych #psych fic #sherlock #bbc sherlock #psych au #sherlock au #writing