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cassandraclare · 4 years ago

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The Letter Game (in full)

Many have asked to read last week’s letter game in a slightly simpler format. So here it is, for everyone’s enjoyment in plain text, under the cut. The action takes place between Chain of Gold and Chain of Iron. Read on . . .

1: INVITATION

To all and sundry—

The leaves are changing, and with them the season. It grows colder in London by the day, and even without the pestilence that recently ravaged us, even without demons breathing down our necks, cold with chill—now is the time for all good Shadowhunters to come to one another’s aid, and support one another in that most hallowed Nephilim tradition: song and dance.

So, a Musicale! The Townsends are pleased to invite the Enclave, in toto, to our West End home this Friday’s eve. Refreshments will of course be served, but the entertainment will be provided by you, our esteemed guests and friends. We would be so honored if you would help us welcome the coming of winter by bringing your most excellent capers and ballads, to keep us warm.

Grahame and Millie Townsend

2: Lucie » Cordelia

Cordelia, my sister, the very twin of my own heart,

Can you believe the Townsends’ invitation? How pretentious can one be, I ask you! It took all four Herondales an hour of discussion to conclude that “Friday’s eve” meant simply Friday evening rather than the eve before Friday (that is, Thursday). And is the demons or our necks that are meant to be cold with chill? “Cold with chill!” As a writer of words—no, even only as a reader of words—I am offended.

I digress, however. I write to ask whether you will be attending, as that will be significant to my own decision of whether to go. I asked James, and he was unenthused but “supposed” that “we must.” So I wish to let you know that if you don’t fancy attending, I believe James could be easily convinced. But, as unpleasant a night as it promises, I fear he may be correct that “we must.” You and he, after all, must do the social rounds as a betrothed pair, and I—well, I can hardly sit alone in my bedroom all night while all my friends witness Catherine Townsend’s cold-blooded murder of “O mio babbino caro.”

So whatever your preference, I will be amenable. We can put on our frills and watch the most foolish of our set warble and prance, and at least we will have each other’s company and champagne. Or, if you’d prefer, tea and draughts in the Institute parlour. I am yours to command, my warrior-sister.

(I have realized only at this moment that perhaps you not only wish to attend but to perform yourself; if that is the case, I retract all previous mentions of warbling in favor of my unconditional enthusiastic support. I will even accompany you, if you wish, but I am not very good at the spinnet so please, something fairly slow would be best.)

Yours ever across the still waters of time and space,

L. Herondale

3: Ariadne » Anna

Dear Miss Lightwood,

I expect that you will have received the same invitation to the Townsends’ Musicale that the rest of the Enclave has. I write with the question of whether it’s your intention to attend, and to say that I hope that you will, and that I hope to see you there.

It’s not your sort of party, of course—dull, bourgeois, and stuffy, I imagine you’d say—but since as the daughter of the Inquisitor I am rarely able to appear at the more lively gatherings that you prefer, I do plan to attend myself, much as I would rather be elsewhere. (At one of those lively gatherings, perhaps?) Catherine will have my head if I am not there to keep her mother out of her hair, for one thing, and for another…well, I wish to see you.

I have it on fairly good authority that your brother and his roisterous band, or whatever they call themselves, are planning to be there. So I also write to implore you to come so that a cooler head will be present and any explosions, or implosions, or indeed bedlam of any kind, will be, if not prevented, at least more easily contained and cleaned up after.

For the event I am thinking of a dress I have, in a deep ruby color, with a rather striking neckline. I am no great judge of my own appearance, but I do know your taste and I daresay you will find it flatters me. For your part, I hope you will wear those pinstriped trousers you have. You have not worn them in an age, and I miss them, or rather, I miss how elegantly you wear them.

In short, I hope to see you there.

I know it is not your habit to keep letters from admirers, but rather to use them to kindle your fireplace. Perhaps that will be the destiny of this note as well, but I believe not. I come to you not as an admirer, after all, but as a friend, and one who wishes you all the best things in the world—

Yrs.,

Ariadne Bridgestock

4: Anna » Matthew

Mr. Fairchild—

Matthew, I have instructed the courier bringing you this note to evaluate your sobriety and, if it is found wanting, to slap you across the face twice. Straighten up and pay attention, you debauched fool. It’s still breakfast-time. And this is important.

Are you going to the Townsends’ musicale?

Let me rephrase: if you know what’s good for you, you will be going to the Townsends’ musicale.

I hope to enjoy your company there, of course, as my friend and companion. But also, to be frank, I will need the support. My night was free and so I told them I would be there, but I wasn’t thinking, and now I’ve received a note from one A.B., letting me know in no uncertain terms that she will definitely be attending as well. It will be a large gathering, no doubt, and most of our time will be spent watching Thoby Baybrook chase after the juggling-balls he keeps dropping during his performance, rather than close-quarters socializing. But—and I trust in your confidence on this matter—I find I flutter with nerves. Imagine. I never flutter!

I hope I can count on you. I am not usually in the business of begging favors. However, this is an unusual situation. Matthew: she will be wearing the burgundy dress.

Anna

5: Ariadne » Matthew

To Matthew Fairchild—

All right, I’ve sent the letter. Against my better judgment, I should add. It seems more likely to drive her away than to attract her, to be honest, but you have her confidence in ways that I no longer do. If you think she is more likely to be there as a result, I will trust in your plan.

However.

I am fully aware that under most circumstances neither she nor you would be found as such a dreary party as an Enclave-wide musicale. (Nor would I, but as the daughter of the, et cetera et cetera, I hardly need to tell you.) So let this note serve as, not a threat, but a promise: if you even think about ditching the party for one of your Downworlder orgies, or whatever your usual scene, and you leave me and her to awkward politesse over stale canapes without showing up yourself…I will follow you to the ends of the Earth and your life will be forfeit. Forfeit, Fairchild. I daresay I can best you in a duel three times out of four, but also be assured I am very good with a dagger in the dark.

I look forward to enjoying this merry entry in the social season with you. I will see you there.

Yours sincerely,

Ariadne Bridgestock

6: Matthew » Cordelia

No, that won’t do at all. There are already other C’s. Christopher, for instance. Also Caiaphas, a werewolf from whom I sometimes purchase wine. (He has an excellent nose, you see.)

Cordelia Carstairs, you need not worry about the Townsends’ party. First, none of Our Lot are planning to perform at all, but merely hang back and watch the festivities while imbibing and filling seats. You certainly shouldn’t worry that you’ll be asked to dance as you did at the Ruelle. This will not be the Ruelle. It will be far more insipid.

I’m sure J is focused entirely on your responsibilities as an engaged couple to make the rounds and be seen by the whey-faced provincials of the Enclave. He is correct, as always, the bastard, but he worries too much. Rest assured that we Thieves will be concocting a plan in which we are able to (1) have a good time at the most boring gathering of the season and (2) not miss cake. (I don’t know if you have had cake at the Townsends’. They are a tedious family, but their cook is some kind of confection-obsessed elf who performs great conjurings with spun sugar and buttercream.) (Yes, he really is an elf, I think. Or Catherine was having me on. His ears are fairly pointed, in any event.)

I do not particularly anticipate this musicale with great pleasure, but I do, of course, anticipate the opportunity to spend time in your presence with great relish. Truly, my parabatai could not have picked a more suitable bride with whom to be mutually bored to tears at parties for years to come. I suggest that for this one you bring a flask to tuck into your reticule. If you don’t, worry not; I will bring two. At least two.

I remain, as always, yours sincerely, etc etc,

Matthew Fairchild

7: James » Thieves

CONFIDENTIAL—DO NOT DISTRIBUTE—ON PAIN OF TORTURE—THIS MEANS YOU

Merriest of Thieves,

After extensive discussion, we’ve reached consensus (or as close as we will come) on our plan for Having Fun At the Townsends’ Musicale Even Though It Is a Musicale Hosted By the Townsends. (A variety of alternate names were proposed, but all have been vetoed by the plan’s organizer, that is, myself. Please do not continue to send proposed names, Matthew.)

Our esteemed colleague Christopher has, it seems, been working in his spare time on a new method of rapidly sending written messages without the use of couriers. Instead, messages are sent with a combination of runes (so bring your steles) and a propellant of Christopher’s own invention. I’m told that the technique is not yet flawless, but Mr Lightwood reports that it is ready to be shown and tested, and what better place than a party at which missing the main entertainment would be not disappointing, but rather a great relief.

Down a corridor from the Townsends’ main parlour is a small games room. I say games room, but in truth it is empty of games, and nobody ever uses it. It is windowless and a bit close, but mostly empty of furnishings and a suitable location for a scientific demonstration. Even better, the corridor itself departs the parlour with a dog-leg, and once one has passed around the corner, one is invisible to the notice of the other partygoers. (See attached floor plan of the first storey of the house; thanks to TL for his freehand drafting skills.)

This plan assumes that none of you are planning to perform in the musicale itself; if this is not the case, then MF wishes me to remind you both of your loyalties and to the overall philistine-like qualities of most of the guests.

Surely this will provide sufficient entertainment to get us all through the evening.

The party is only one days away, so if there are any questions about this plan, please hiss them to me sotto voce tomorrow night while Millie Townsend is performing her murder ballads.

Courage, half a league, half a league onward, and so on,

James H

PS: For those whose main draw to this party is Morgaint’s famous Victoria sponge, Christopher assures me that we should be done well in time for dessert. (I should add a warning that it should not be referred to as a Victoria sponge within earshot of Morgaint, as he will lecture you at length about the recipe’s preceding Victoria by centuries, the history of confection in pre-Roman Britain, and so on. He is very temperamental, even for a faerie.)

8: Thomas » Alastair

Dear Mr Carstairs—

We have not spoken in many weeks, presumably as a result of the unfortunate circumstances under which we last met. Nevertheless, I write this evening to extend my wishes for your family’s continued health and good fortune.

As I’m sure you know, this Friday marks an Enclave-wide social event at the home of the Mr and Mrs Townsend. I know that your sister will be in attendance, with her fiancé. The Lightwoods—Eugenia, Anna, Christopher, and myself—are also planning to be there. And, of course, we expect the family of our esteemed Consul, including both of her sons, to make an appearance.

Shall we expect to see you there? I ask merely because if so, I will not be attending. I understand that as your family will be there you have every right to attend, so I am happy to be the one who bows out of the evening.

Yours sincerely,

Mr T. Lightwood

9: Alastair » Thomas

Mr Lightwood

Tom

Look, you,

I am amazed and impressed by the effrontery of you writing to me to ask whether I will be attending an event only to them tell me that if I attend, you will not. No doubt you are feeling aggrieved about the last time we met. Well, so am I. Jests and pranks from our schoolboy years are hardly a good enough reason for the kind of public humiliation I suffered, both from Matthew Fairchild’s rude outburst and your own. The very thought of attending a party with the likes of you sends me into a mixture of, on the one hand, paroxysms of helpless laughter, and on the other, a thumping headache of barely contained fury that I

[letter discarded, not sent]

Mr Lightwood,

Thank you for your kind letter. I am, of course, aware of the upcoming affair at the home of the Townsends, through the usual means of receiving my own request to attend. It would seem to me obvious that I had no need of being informed about the party as though I would otherwise be ignorant of it. Unlike some of the London Shadowhunter families, the Townsends have only ever been courteous to the Carstairs family, and the implication that I wouldn’t have received exactly the same invitation that you did is exactly the kind of nonsense that

[letter discarded, not sent]

Thomas,

I won’t be attending the Townsends’ musicale, as I am already committed to a preferable previous engagement cleaning out the pigeon cages in the Regent’s Park Zoo.

Thank you for thinking of me.

Receipt of your letter is hereby acknowledged.

I don’t know why you would write to me at all, but please do not write back to try to explain.

[letter discarded, not sent]

Thomas,

I do want to apologize, I have tried to apologize, but every time I come near you a wall of your friends prevents me from doing so. You can hardly hold it against me that I have not apologized when you will not allow me to do so. Yes, I know what I did rises far above the level of a jest or a prank. But one must be allowed to make amends somehow, for otherwise what is there? Hopelessness? Not I suppose that you care much what I feel. Just because you are beloved of your friends, and ridiculously tolerably handsome, you think —

[Letter discarded, not sent]

10: Cordelia » James

J—

Do you need rescuing? Everyone is in the games room for Christopher’s demonstration, even Thomas, who has spent most of the evening hiding from my brother. You on the other hand have been waylaid in the corner with Mrs Whatshername. I tried to get close enough to intervene but was swept away myself by Mr Townsend, who wanted to tell me about his travels in the Levant when he was a younger man. Could not tell if he was confused about my family’s origins or he simply assumed anyone would be fascinated by his tales of camels and pyramids. Anyway, M suggests he could interrupt and scold you for ignoring your betrothed. Lucie says you are ignoring your betrothed, but don’t listen to her, I know you are far too polite to interrupt a member of the older set. (If you yourself remember, please remind me of her name when you come.)

Come as soon as you can. Do not allow Mrs Whatshername to follow you.

Daisy

11: Christopher » Thieves

To: James, Lucie, Matthew, Thomas, Cordelia, Anna, Ariadne

From: Christopher

In an ideal world, I would have been able to send you this note through this very technique I am demonstrating tonight, but it does make a fairly loud bang, and I thought that would likely give the game away. Though I wish to not allow social proprieties to impede the progress of science, I have been reminded by several of you that discretion can be the better part of valor. Although I admit I can’t think of any personal examples where that would be the case.

In the games room I have piled a supply of protective spectacles, which I suggest you wear. There is no danger of damage to your eyes, but there may be some very bright flashes. In addition, the propellant which I will be using to send the message is an experimental mixture, similar to those I have tried in the past but not exactly the same. There is a very very small chance that inhalation of its fumes may cause some temporary effects to the mind, so I recommend that you hold a handkerchief over your nose and mouth during the demonstration. To be clear, I don’t think that any of these effects would have any negative impact on our ability to return to the party and attend the musical performances afterwards. At worst, it may make those performances seem more enjoyable than they would otherwise.

12: James » Townsends

Dear Mr and Mrs Townsend,

On behalf of myself, my family, my fiancée, and my fellows, I wished to extend sincerest apologies for departing your lovely gathering without saying proper goodbyes. Your musicale was, as all would have expected, a smashing success, with performances across the board demonstrating the falsehood of the common claim that the Nephilim are unable to produce works of art. Surely your daughter Catherine’s rendition of Puccini’s famous aria could stand alongside the finest professionals to be found in the Royal Albert Hall.

As you discovered along with the rest of the guests, Christopher Lightwood wished to use the opportunity of having us all present to demonstrate the state of his newest invention. I’m told that when it is completed, it will utterly revolutionize the way that Shadowhunters are able to communicate with one another, obviating the need for the runners, couriers, and use of the mundane Royal Mail to send messages to one another. Instead we will have a fully self-contained rune-based method. Surely anyone would agree that such a development would be well worth whatever growing pains the process of invention and experimentation might create.

As you also discovered, Mr Lightwood’s demonstration took an unexpected turn, with a good amount of his customized propellant being released into your games room and corridors. Luckily, it was a mild evening, and open windows as well as the vigorous fanning of the doors by Thomas Lightwood and Ariadne Bridgestock quickly dispersed the gasses.

That said, neither I nor my companions are able to account for an interval of roughly ninety minutes between the end of the demonstration and our departure from your house. To that end, it seems that we were sadly lacking in good manners by failing to thank you for your warm hospitality at the time. Again, please accept our deepest apologies, and our thanks for that hospitality, even if it has been delivered discourteously late.

Warmest regards,

James Herondale

13: Matthew » James

Jamie,

Good Lord, what was in that stuff of Christopher’s? Do you know if there will be any lasting effects? I hesitate to ask Kit, he seems too dismayed.

Also, I am trying to find out to whom exactly I owe an apology for specific behaviors that might have happened after the demonstration. I seem to have lost more than an hour from my memory, as well as my waistcoat and a garnet ring of which I was quite fond. Any thoughts you have would be appreciated.

Matthew

14: Lucie » James

James,

I have been expecting to hear from Matthew, but as it has been most of a day and I haven’t yet, can you please let him know that I will make myself available to be apologized to during teatime, either tomorrow or the next day. Please also tell him that I will be sending along a bill for the costs of cleaning arrack out of the skirt of my dress. For such a prodigious consumer of spirits, you would think he would have learned not to slosh them around so much when he talks. I suppose Christopher’s propellant takes some of the blame, but honestly, Shadowhunters are trained in agility and dexterity and even under the influence of one of Christopher’s experiments he should be able to, at very least, not slosh so.

Lucie

15: Cordelia » Anna

Dear Anna,

The last hour or so of the party was something of a blur for all of us, I think. But I feel confident in assuring you that both you and Ariadne acted with all due propriety, and that at no point did you “make an ass of yourself,” as you put it, either out among all the guests or in the games room.

Also, when next you speak to Ariadne, please compliment her on her lovely dress. It suited her quite well! I wondered if you were responsible for finding it for her? You do have such an excellent eye for what colors and cuts will flatter.

Anyway, do not worry. I have made some private inquiries, and nobody took note of any unusual behavior on the part of either yourself or Miss Bridgestock. (In fact, Rosamund seemed to be under the impression that you were shamelessly flirting with her. I can confirm that you were not and that Rosamund simply has an odd way about her.)

Are we still on for tea Wednesday? Let me know if not and otherwise I will see you then.

Cordelia Carstairs

16: Townsends » Everybody

For the attention of:

James Herondale

Lucie Herondale

Matthew Fairchild

Thomas Lightwood

Anna Lightwood

Christopher Lightwood

Alastair Carstairs

Cordelia Carstairs

On behalf of not just our own family, but the parental generation of the Enclave more generally, we wish to communicate our displeasure with your behavior at our soirée on Friday’s eve. You are all adults or near-enough, under Nephilim Law, and so you should be held to account as any adults would be. And you should be ashamed of yourselves.

Given the influence had by many of your families, and the small size of the London Enclave, we cannot bar you from all of our future events. If only we could. We will, however, be more careful in future about shutting off access to rooms in our house that are not intended for use by party guests.

Rather than taking the time to craft individual complaints, we hereby itemize the most obvious of our grievances, so that you may all have your behavior exposed to one another. Certainly none of you deserve to have your actions kept private.

Alastair: We were glad to see you eventually arrive, though there is a wide difference between “fashionably late” and the hour you appeared. (Just in time for the desserts, we note.) Also, the song you performed was highly inappropriate for the ladies present, especially the unmarried ones, such as our daughter, and also your own sister.

Lucie: While we have always supported your hobby of writing down entertaining tales, and we understand that the storyteller’s art does involve artistic creativity, your ongoing, strident, melodramatic narration of the events following the Christopher Lightwood Incident was not appreciated by us or, especially, Mrs Rosewain, who you referred to throughout as “Mrs Whatshername.”

James: Your interruption of the cake serving to declare your undying devotion to your true love was a gallant gesture. It might, however, have gone over better had you not pledged your troth to a portrait in oils of our ancestral matriarch, Frideswide Townsend. Your taste is admirable, of course, and she was considered a great beauty. It is unfortunate for your affections that she passed away in the late sixteenth century.

Anna: We would thank you to come by and pick up your brother from our house at some point. He has been muttering to himself, fiddling with a pencil and paper, and threatening “another test, much improved.” Please retrieve him post-haste.

Thomas: We don’t know how you made the acquaintance of that vampire who attempted to accompany all of the performers on his dulcimer, but he is not welcome back to our house, and if we see him again, neither are you.

Matthew: Whatever was in that bottle you were plying to my mother, we only found her this morning, napping on our roof. When we woke her she said it was of a greenish color and asked for more of it. We would be obliged if you could bring another bottle by, at your convenience.

Cordelia: Your demonstration of the supernatural sharpness of your sword was very impressive, even if it was not in the spirit of the kinds of performance we expected for a musicale. It is, however, not all that surprising that it was able to cut through our drapes, a dining-room chair, or the sponge cake. We spoke to your brother, and he suggested that we should feel free to send an invoice for replacement costs to the Herondale family, since soon enough you will be their trouble, and not his.

In short, you have all behaved abominably, and are, each and every one of you, embarrassments to your various hallowed family names.

We hope you will join us the Thursday after next, for boating and luncheon in Hyde Park.

Mr and Mrs Graham Townsend

#letter game #the merry thieves #the last hours #chain of gold #chain of iron

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sugarplumwriter · 4 years ago

Text

Confessions {Part 2/finale}

1980s!Johnny Lawrence x Reader

A/N: I didn't want to leave it at that so here's what we'd all hope to happen. I really needed this myself.

Summary: As you finally start getting over Johnny Lawrence, something changes.

Warning: L2

{Masterlist}

{Part 1}

Just moments ago, you were standing in front of Johnny Lawrence and you were telling him what only very little people on earth had courage to tell someone.

Your mind was still racing with thoughts. Mainly thoughts about how much easier your life would be from now on. It felt overwhelmingly great to have removed that uncertainty and burden off your chest.

He took it well, you thought, and you couldn’t help but grin at the surreality of it all.

You still had goosebumps all over your body. How exciting that just was.

Your mind hadn’t processed all of it, yet. It was an adjustment for sure. No what ifs anymore and no more questioning if it was all just in your head or actually real.

For the first time in more than two years, you knew it was something very real. Real to you but also real to him. You knew without a doubt that you were going to be on his mind all day today. And that alone satisfied you. You had the power to make it real between you and now it felt like you did, even if just for a day, just for a minute or just for a moment. It felt like you took care of unfinished business and now you could finally move on.

As you stepped into your house, your parent called, “Y/n, is that you?”

“Yes!” you yelled back.

“C-mere! Your friend wants to talk to you.”

You made your way into the living room, where you found them speaking on the phone. When they noticed you stepped in, they covered the speaker with their hand.

“I hope you had a great school day,” they said and quickly added, with their mouth to the phone, “Here she is,” before passing you the handset. Meanwhile you were wondering why one of your friends was calling you. That’s a bit strange, you thought. “Also, don’t talk for too long, food is already on the table.”

You nodded. As they left the room, you put the handset on your ear.

“Hello?” you uttered.

“Yes, y/n, it’s me.” It was your friend who you were talking to yesterday at the beach. She sounded oddly serious.

“What’s up?”

“Were you talking to Johnny earlier?”

Your heart sank. How did she know you were talking to him?

“Why?” you asked.

You heard a crumbling noise at the other end before she spoke again.

“Well because Erin and some other girls saw you two talking.”

Oh no, the girls you saw earlier did notice after all.

Your friend continued, “And she said it looked pretty serious.”

You needed a moment to collect your thoughts while your friend silently waited.

“So ... what do they think it was about?”

“They don’t know actually. They just thought it was strange that’s all. That’s why Erin called me. She wanted to know if I knew anything.” She paused. “I mean, you know what she’s like. Always on the lookout for drama.”

“Yeah,” you said, “I know.”

She nervously laughed, then added, “I told her that you probably borrowed him a pen and he forgot to give it back or something.”

“Did she believe you?”

“I don’t know. Just tell her the same thing if she asks you.”

“Will do.”

“And I don’t think she will ask Johnny by the way.”

“Probably not.”

“Yeah, so I wouldn’t worry too much about it.”

“Mm-hm.”

It was silent after that for a couple of seconds until you heard her clear her throat.

“Y/n, I don’t want to be pushy, but is Johnny the guy you like?”

“Isn’t that quite obvious now?” you said, and although you felt very vulnerable, you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I guess so.” You heard a smile in her voice. “How did it go?” she added, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not at the moment, no. Maybe some other time.”

“Okay.” She paused again. “If you need anything just let me know.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

“Of course.”

“Bye, then.”

“Bye.”

The following weeks were both strange and unchanged.

It didn’t feel like anything had changed, which wasn’t untrue for the most part, but you knew that there was this unspoken truth between you and Johnny, like a secret the two of you shared. And anytime you were close to each other, you felt this tension as if both of you were thinking the same.

But he acted normal which meant that neither did he keep a suspicious distance from you, nor was he unnaturally close all the time.

But after many such weeks, your memories slowly started to fade.

One week, you couldn’t stop thinking about him and hoped he’d change his mind, the other, suddenly, you lost awareness of a lot of the feelings you once had and barely even noticed that shift.

Soon you’d be seeing him without any second thought to it. He’d only be a random guy walking the halls and nothing more.

It was P.E. class on a sunny day in the last quarter of your senior year when the confession crossed your mind again.

Everyone was out on the field in their respective groups where you were cheering with the other girls and it just then happened, that a football came flying right at you - or at least right at your group.

In a matter of seconds almost all the girls were screeching and running away just to dodge the ball.

"Can't you be more careful?" someone yelled.

You turned around to see Tommy running after the ball. One of the girls picked it up and tossed it back to him with an annoyed look on her face.

"Sorry, girls,” he laughed and shrugged, “Just couldn't help myself."

Many of the girls started throwing complaints at him to which he only mischievously grinned before he turned away and started running back to the football field. You just stood there and watched him for a couple of more seconds, until you noticed Johnny looking at you. You froze.

You hadn’t paid much attention to him at all for the past couple of months, you hadn't even properly looked at him, which made this moment even stranger to you. It was like looking at him for the very first time.

It was you who turned away first. You didn't want to leave a false impression, so you picked up where you left off before you got distracted and pretend as if nothing was bothering you. Which it obviously did.

Later that same week something else happened that was just as small but left you just as baffled.

You were at your locker and took out some books for the first period when you heard "Hello, y/n" distantly behind you.

At first you thought you had imagined or misheard it but as you turned around, you saw Johnny walking by. Perplexed you quickly glanced away and turned your attention back to the locker.

After, you felt bad for not Greeting him back, but should I have? Or would that have been awkward? Was he even talking to me?

Eventually things like that piled up so much in one week, that you couldn’t hold it inside anymore and you had to initiate a conversation with the only person who knew about it.

"Well, that is really strange," she said. She was lying on your bed and looking through a magazine. "But I wouldn't read into it too much," she continued, "or he probably would've made an actual move, you know?"

You hated it but she was right.

"I guess so."

"Look, y/n.", she sighed as she tossed the magazine to the side, "I'm really not trying to be harsh here; I mean, you know Johnny! Johnny, the “Strike first, strike whatever” and all that."

She made excessive gestures which amused you, but the rest hurt.

He didn't play games, he did things head on, was what she said next, which unfortunately made sense to you.

"But who knows," she smiled, "maybe he finally realized how great you are."

As the last of your high school days went by, you accepted the fact that you should leave this whole thing behind you.

You packed your bag after the last period and left the classroom. The hallways were almost empty, except for a small group of freshmen - and Johnny.

What a rare sight, you thought. Where’s his karate gang?

He stood just outside the classroom. When you started heading towards the exit, he turned his head and looked at you. His glare was neutral at first but then he smiled.

“How are you?”, he asked loudly, and you stopped.

Even though it surprised you, your answer came immediately.

“Good,” you smiled. “How about you?”

“Yeah, me, too.”, he said lower this time as he walked up to you.

He was still smiling but it was silent for a moment. You didn’t know what to expect next but then he said, “Let me drive you home,” and suddenly you felt your heart flutter.

“Oh, ah … sure.”, you replied.

“Awesome.”, he said and started walking. You caught up to him and asked him what all this was about.

“I owe you one.”, was his simple answer. You really didn’t expect that.

“Why?”, you asked.

“Don’t you remember?”

“Remember what?” You were visibly confused by all of this.

“Don’t act like an airhead, y/n.”

The way he spoke to you startled you. But you could tell he wasn’t trying to be mean. He felt just as charged up as you did.

“Of course, I remember that” you snarled sarcastically, “but what about it?”

The two of you left the building walking closely next to each other.

He sighed and eventually admitted, “I didn’t think I could ever fall for another girl like that.”

Did he really mean it?

“But we don’t know each other too well.”, you sneered, and a wide grin formed on your lips.

He seemed amused and when he looked at you, he laughed. But then he went silent. It looked like he was thinking about something, so you didn’t say anything either. Instead you focused on getting to the car.

When you arrived, he opened the door for you and you sat on the lethered seat. You felt a rush of heat that heated up both your cheeks and the rest of your body. The feelings you were having were unmatched by anything you had ever experienced before. No one ever made you feel the way Johnny did.

“I thought a lot about you and about what you said.”, he eventually confessed. “That was some bold stuff you pulled there; you know that?”

He sat down on the drivers seat while your cheeks heated up even more.

“I guess.”, you replied.

“That was rad, y/n, I respect you a lot for that.”

The car engine started, and he pulled out of the parking space. As you were driving, you continued talking about the day of the confession. He told you about his point of view and you told him about yours.

You noticed that he talked a lot and very expressively but also that he attentively listened. Beside that you noticed many other new things about him, which made you like him even more. He made you smile and laugh more than anyone else ever did.

It only took you one ride to immediately click and after that it became a habit for you to drive together. At first only to school and back but it didn’t take long until you started driving everywhere together, in the car or even on his motorcycle. It all lasted a lifetime.

#johnny lawrence #johnny lawrence x reader #johnny lawrence imagine #johnny x reader #cobra kai #cobra kai imagine #cobra kai x reader #the karate kid #karate kid #karate kid imagine #the karate kid imagine #imagine #daniel larusso #daniel larusso x reader #daniel larusso imagine

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aurora077 · 3 years ago

Text

The Value of Recognition Chapter 1

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13934252/1/The-Value-of-Recognition

Disclaimer: I do not own MDZS/ The Untamed. This will of course be a mix of canons as is usual for me. Wei Wuxian has returned with his original appearance but it’s only superficial as he has Mo Xuanyu’s core.

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

It was supposed to be a routine night hunt. Nothing that the juniors couldn’t handle. And with Wen Ning and a poorly concealed Sect Leader Jiang following behind them, things were usually fine if it turned out to be something more than they could. It had been 2 years since the fateful Guanyin Temple incident and they’d more than gotten accustomed to stalking the juniors together, though Sect Leader Jiang of course put up a grumpy front. They were back in Yunping, this time following the trail of a strangely elusive spirit that seemed to disappear every time they were close to trapping it. It did not help that Lan Jingyi was terrified of ghosts and his teeth kept chattering, possibly alerting the thing when they were near.

“Really Lan Jingyi if you’re that scared you shouldn’t have come!” teased Jin Ling. Lan Jingyi pouted, “I’m not scared!”

A cold gust of wind blew past them and Lan Jingyi shrieked and grabbed onto the person closest to him, clinging like a koala. It was Jin Ling, who smirked and raised an eyebrow at him. “This doesn’t prove anything,” Lan Jingyi said stiffly, “I...I did this because I wanted to!”

“You wanted to hug me?” said Jin Ling, an amused grin on his face. Lan Jingyi sputtered and let go, face turning red. “Who wants to hug you, Young Mistress?!”

“You apparently,” Jin Ling snickered.

Before a furiously red Lan Jingyi could retort, Lan Sizhui shushed them.

“There’s something here,” he said, pulling out a spirit trapping pouch, and gesturing to Ouyang Zizhen to be ready to send the thing his way.

Lan Jingyi and Jin Ling also got into the same position, all levity fading, though Lan Jingyi had gone pale.

They’d agreed on this formation so that this time if the spirit evaded one spirit trapping pouch, it would directly be forced into a second one. Jin Ling and Lan Sizhui held the pouches and the other two got ready to banish the spirit into it.

Circling the area where the resentful energy was felt, the spirit soon materialised and cackled menacingly. Lan Jingyi shivered but as the spirit lunged at him his fight or flight mechanism kicked in and he strongly banished it towards Jin Ling.

The spirit was getting sucked in and Ouyang Zizhen cheered. “Finally!”

Except right at that moment there was a spike of resentful energy. The spirit did not intend to go quietly.

Before anyone knew what had happened, Lan Sizhui was being pinned down by Sect Leader Jiang, who had slumped over him, unconscious.

The ghost had shot a blast of light towards him and Lan Sizhui could not move out of the way in time. Sect Leader Jiang was closer than Wen Ning, and had tackled him out of the way, absorbing the blast himself.

The last thing they heard of the spirit was it’s maniacal laughter before it was fully gone, trapped within the pouch, leaving behind several very panicked juniors.

“Jiujiu!”

“Sizhui!”

“Sect Leader Jiang!”

Sizhui, dazed from having the wind knocked out of him, still lay flat and unmoving on the floor with Sect Leader Jiang’s deadweight on top of him. He managed to raise his hand weakly to indicate he was fine.

Wen Ning, worried about Sizhui, hurried over and lifted Sect Leader Jiang off of him.

Lan Jingyi helped him to his feet while Jin Ling fussed over his uncle, held in Wen Ning’s arms like he weighed nothing. Ouyang Zizhen took a moment to appreciate the strength of the fierce corpse but he too was worried as Sect Leader Jiang was not waking up. Lan Sizhui took his wrist to try and see if he could figure out what was wrong. Wen Ning had been teaching him the little medical knowledge he had from Wen Qing; Lan Sizhui was a natural.

“There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with him. His qi seems normal but then why isn’t he waking up?” said Lan Sizhui, feeling worried and guilty.

“Lotus Pier is close, let’s take him back and alert the healers,” said a frantic Jin Ling.

They all agreed that was the best course of action. Lan Sizhui carried Wen Ning, who was the only one who could properly hold an unconscious Sect Leader Jiang at the moment, on his sword. Travelling with three people was taxing and Jin Ling flew next to him, passing him spiritual energy so that he wouldn’t fall. They made quite the procession and as they approached Lotus Pier the disciples noticed something was wrong immediately.

As they landed they were quickly surrounded by worried Jiang disciples, some of whom shot Wen Ning suspicious glares.

“We’re taking him to the infirmary, go and find Healer Zhang,” commanded Jin Ling.

“Yes, Sect Leader Jin.” They reluctantly dispersed, though some of them trailed behind the group to keep an eye on their Sect Leader.

Entering the infirmary, Wen Ning placed Sect Leader Jiang on the bed and they waited in worried silence.

“Okay what happened?” said Healer Zhang, striding into the room and foregoing formalities in her no-nonsense way.

“We were chasing a spirit and we’d caught it, but at the last minute it attacked Sizhui. Jiujiu pushed him out of the way but he got hit by that weird blast of light it sent out and now he won’t wake up!” said Jin Ling, his voice going wobbly at the end.

When he’d seen his Jiujiu lying like that on the floor for one heart-shattering second he’d thought he was dead. He knew he would be having nightmares about this moment. He wouldn’t feel secure until he knew his uncle would be okay.

Healer Zhang tsked and muttered something about self-preservation as she put up a screen and went about examining her Sect Leader.

Except, she’d come to the same conclusion as Sizhui. “Sect Leader Jiang is fine, or so it appears. Nothing seems to be wrong except that he hasn’t woken up. There’s a small mark on his arm that I assume is the site of where he was hit but other than that I can’t find anything wrong.”

“But something is wrong! Why won’t he wake up?” Jin Ling cried. They had tried to rouse his consciousness to no avail.

Lan Sizhui was feeling guilty that it was to protect him that Sect Leader Jiang was like this. He couldn’t just sit still and do nothing but he didn’t know what he could do that the healer couldn’t. “I’ll go and write to Wei-qianbei. Maybe it’s a curse? Wei-qianbei might be able to see if anything is off. A-Ling, could I have one of your butterfly talismans? It would be faster and we don’t know what is going on so the faster he can get here the better.”

Jin Ling handed him the talisman without a word. Things between him, his uncle, and Wei Wuxian were complicated, though it was better than before. But he didn’t care about anything at the moment other than making sure his uncle was okay and if Wei Wuxian could help he wasn’t going to refuse. Lan Sizhui hurried out of the medical quarters (with Wen Ning slinking behind him; he felt awkward just standing there) and Jin Ling turned back to the doctor expectantly, “Do you have any theories at all as to what happened?”

“Well we don’t know what the spirit was trying to do. What do you know about the spirit?” asked Healer Zhang.

“It was a terrifying thing!” said Lan Jingyi, shivering at the memory, “The townspeople we spoke to said that it was possessing people and stealing away children with the hosts’ bodies, causing many people to be wrongfully accused of kidnapping.”

“The people who were possessed had simply taken them to their own homes except, nobody could get into the home to rescue the children no matter how hard they tried. This happened in three villages and each time the children were only released after the spirit left the body and moved to another town. But by that time it was too late and someone got beaten severely after the spirit left his body since it wasn’t known that he was possessed and the villagers thought that he was a child molester because why else would he just keep the children in his house. They weren’t even being abused! The spirit was taking good care of them,” said Ouyang Zizhen, puzzled.

“The spirit had a lot of resentful energy,” said Jin Ling, “We couldn’t figure out how it could be that badly off and yet it was not harming the children.”

Healer Zhang sighed. “Well, this is all good to know but it really doesn’t have much helpful information. It clearly didn’t possess Sect Leader Jiang. We may simply have to wait and see if he wakes up. I can have someone stay with him and alert me to any changes.”

“No need, I’ll stay with him,” said Jin Ling fiercely, in a tone brooking no arguments.

“Very well then,” Healer Zhang sighed, “But someone will need to stay with you. You’re all just back from a long night hunt and you’ve drained yourselves flying here so quickly.”

“I’ll stay with him,” Lan Sizhui volunteered, stepping back into the room. It was the least he could do, after all it was his fault this was happening.

“No, you flew three people here Young Master Lan,” said Healer Zhang, “You need to rest. In fact you all do. I’ll let Head Disciple Han settle you all in the guest rooms. I can’t deter Sect Leader Jin but the rest of you will rest.”

Wen Ning cleared his throat, startling all of them. He’d been so quiet when he re-entered that nobody realised he was there. “Healer Zhang is right A-Yuan. I..if I may… I.. well.. I don’t have to sleep. I c..could stay with Jin-zongzhu i..if you permit it.” He and Sect Leader Jiang certainly had their differences, but he had saved Sizhui, who would be the one lying in that bed if he hadn’t pushed him out of the way. Wen Ning was grateful to the man. A-Yuan was precious to him and the thought of something happening to him almost made his dead heart beat again in fright.

“Alright,” said Jin Ling, it made sense after all. Healer Zhang did not look pleased but with Sect Leader Jin’s agreement she simply nodded and went to inform the head disciple to make arrangements for their guests, who followed her reluctantly. They all wished to stay with Jin Ling but the doctor was accepting no protests.

Wen Ning settled down on the floor and Jin Ling squeezed in next to his uncle on the bed, a few tears leaking out when seeing his still, blank face beside him. His uncle was the only one he had left and he thought he might sincerely go mad if anything happened to him. He grasped his uncle’s hand and whimpered softly at it’s lifelessness. He didn’t know if he was imagining it or not but jiujiu’s hand seemed a bit warmer than normal too.

“Sect Leader Jiang is a strong cultivator,” Wen Ning said softly, trying to comfort Jin Ling, “I am sure he will be fine.”

“I hope so,” Jin Ling said, voice thick.

---

Jin Ling didn’t know when but at some point the weariness from the hunt and the emotional turmoil finally got to him and he fell sound asleep. Wen Ning let him sleep because he could keep watch over Sect Leader Jiang and Jin Ling needed the rest. A little before 5 am, Jin Ling jerked awake, suddenly feeling very hot. He was sweating which meant he’d been heated for a while.

“Shit!” he swore quietly, he hadn’t meant to fall asleep. Sitting up he checked on his uncle only to realise that the source of the heat was in fact him! “Oh no,” he said, worry creeping back in, “Wen Ning, could you let the disciple on guard know we need Healer Zhang? I think jiujiu’s running a fever.” “Of course, I’ll be back,” Wen Ning said, frightened and ashamed he hadn’t noticed something off, though there really was no way he could have known that Jiang-zongzhu had a fever as the man had not stirred, even in discomfort.

-----

“Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah”

Lan Jingyi awoke abruptly. It was almost time for the Lans to get up anyway but that was the first time he’d had that kind of wake-up call.

“What the heck is that?” he said, the shock waking him up better than any alarm talisman.

Sizhui yawned, “It sounds like a baby.” They’d chosen to put another bed in the room and share because Jingyi had taken one look at Sizhui’s anxious face and declared he was not leaving him alone for the night. He knew Sizhui was feeling guilty but it wasn’t his fault. Nobody could have predicted what would happen. It was an accident. He’d talked it through with Sizhui and tried to make him let go of the guilt but he knew it wouldn’t be so easy until Sect Leader Jiang recovered.

A loud wail pierced the air again, suddenly cutting off halfway.

“There it is again!” said Jingyi.

“Well somebody’s baby is probably an early riser,” Sizhui joked weakly.

“I suppose so.”

They got ready for the morning, not hearing any more sounds, and decided to immediately go to the infirmary. Breakfast could wait and anyway Sizhui wasn’t sure he could eat until he saw that Sect Leader Jiang was fine. Not many people were up at this hour inside the Sect, they noticed as they hurried to the infirmary.

But the scene that met them once they arrived was…

-----

Jin Ling was really worried as his uncle had gotten hotter and hotter. It all culminated in a blast of light, just as Healer Zhang and Wen Ning walked back in. They shielded their eyes a second too late as none of them were expecting that outcome. For a moment they were all dazed, blinking back spots from their vision. When their sight cleared Jin Ling gasped, horrified. Where his uncle had been was now simply a pile of robes. “Jiujiu!” he cried. The pile of robes moved. His eyes widened as he scrambled to move them and Healer Zhang and Wen Ning hurried forward to see what had happened.

Before any of them could say anything, a little head popped out of it. Seeing three strange adults hovering over him the baby did what babies do. His big eyes watered and his lips trembled.

“Wha--”

Jin Ling didn’t even get to finish before the child opened his tiny mouth and let out a loud wail.

------

“What on Earth?” said Jingyi.

“Where is Sect Leader Jiang,” said Sizhui, “What happened?”

As soon as they opened the infirmary door, the sound of crying hit them like a suckerpunch.

“Shut the door!” Jin Ling demanded, “Do you want all of Lotus Pier to show up here!”

They’d just managed to put up a silencing talisman when the baby showed no signs of stopping his cries. Jin Ling had wrapped the naked baby in jiujiu’s inner robes and was holding him but the baby’s little fists were hitting him and he was trying hard not to think about the situation he found himself in because he was just that close to having a full on panic attack.

Jingyi winced in sympathy. “Where did the baby come from?” he asked, looking at Jin Ling who was trying and failing to stop the baby from crying by patting his back awkwardly.

“Congratulations Sect Leader Jin, you have a bouncing baby boy,” said Healer Zhang, who was worried but found Sect Leader Jin’s awkwardness with the baby hilarious.

Jingyi’s eyes bugged out of his head, “What?! Young Mistress, you have a baby!?”

“Don’t be stupid!” Jin Ling laughed, sounding slightly hysterical, “Everyone, meet xiao jiujiu.”

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

A/N-- I am bad at writing action/fight scenes don’t come at me for that crappy ghost scene 🥺 pls

-- Also I know at 3 years old he’s technically a toddler but.. I still consider them babies at that age so… He’s still babie.

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wordstrings · 4 years ago

Text

Prologue to Accessor IV - Part 2

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (see Part 1 for summary & warnings)

Words: 3,200

—

Castiel whispered, “Dean.”

The bedcovers didn’t move.

He edged further into the small space of Dean’s sleeping quarters. Early light filtered weakly through the partly open door, casting the room in monochromatic shapes. A small chest, an even smaller table, and the rumpled mound atop the low cot were the only definitions of space.

Gingerly, Castiel sat on the edge of the cot and lifted an edge of the bedding. His Accessory’s face was half hidden in the pillow beneath. He gently touched Dean’s temple, ran his fingertips through his hair.

“Dean?”

On the second stroking pass, Dean snuffled and turned his head slightly, pushing into the touch. His limbs shifted beneath the bedcovers.

“Mm, Casss…”

A small, sleepy smile pulled at the corner of Dean’s mouth as he breathed. His eyes worked their way sluggishly open to slits, his cheek tilting up to press against the warmth of Castiel’s palm. Then the slits widened with sudden clarity.

“Cas? I mean, m–muh l’rd?” Dean drew a deeper breath and pulled a hand from beneath the covers to rub at his eyes. “What–?”

Castiel shushed him. “No need to rouse quickly. I wanted to let you know that breakfast is available when you’re ready for it. Happy birthday.”

There were a few more confused blinks before Dean’s mind seemed to catch up. “Thank you?”

“I’ll let you wake at your pace. You may join me whenever you like.”

By the time Dean appeared in the outer chamber, Castiel had arranged all the delivered platters and assembled a sampler plate. He glanced up at the blanket draped around Dean’s bare shoulders to ward off the morning chill and smiled. The doubt that had plagued him all night about his choice of gift dissipated at once. It would now be a struggle to wait until evening to give it. He stirred in one last dollop of honey and presented a steaming mug as Dean sat and took in the spread with wondering eyes.

“Grilled cakes with warm berries, sausages, a selection of cheeses…” Castiel listed off each item as he set the plate in front of Dean, and pointed around the table to indicate the remaining options. “...And hot mint tea with honey. If there’s anything else you desire, I can pass word to the kitchens.”

“No, this is… more than enough.” Dean looked up from the food, and while there was still confusion on the edges of his expression, something warm and pleased was rising in his cheeks. “Thanks, C–ah… my lord.”

This was one of many phenomena about Dean that Castiel found intriguing: the way he’d address his master appropriately when level, but slip into using Castiel’s name – and a shortened familiar form, no less – when fatigued or off balance. Castiel had assumed this peculiarity would resolve itself in time, but if anything, it had increased, particularly over the past year. Whenever Dean stumbled over his words to correct himself, all it did was draw attention to the blunder and press upon Castiel the awkwardness or even anxiety of the misstep.

He recalled a conversation they’d had not long after Dean came into Castiel’s care, when it became clear that the title of “Master” provoked a certain distress. Dean had been more hesitant back then. They’d barely known each other, but were able to discuss it and come to the solution of allowing Dean to address him as any attendant would. It put an end to the unease, and the world hadn’t collapsed as a result.

Another concession in this area wouldn’t collapse it, either.

“You needn’t do that,” Castiel said. “Revising yourself in regards to honorifics. If referring to me by name comes more naturally to you, you have my permission to do so. In private, of course.”

Dean blinked. “My lo– uh. Are… are you sure?”

No. But he would grow comfortable in time, just as he had with the prior shift. “Yes, I’m sure.”

A halting smile tugged at Dean’s face. “...Okay, Cas.” His brows furrowed suddenly with doubt. “‘Castiel?’ Or ‘Cas?’”

After a moment of consideration, Castiel said, “I have been ‘Castiel’ to everyone I’ve known since coming of age. I can’t recall the last time I was called ‘Cas,’ if ever.” He absently fingered the utensils laid by his place setting. Perhaps it would be nice to have that symbolic sense of familiarity within the confines of his own quarters. And if he never grew comfortable with it, he could change his mind. “Given the differing nature of our relationship, it would make sense for the way you address me to be different, as well. ‘Cas’ will do. Now,” he gestured to Dean’s plate, “have your breakfast before everything cools.”

Castiel happily spent the next half hour paying more attention to Dean’s eating than his own. He commented on each food item, making note of its origin or preparation as he knew about it, and watched Dean closely for signs of enjoyment or displeasure with each new bite. Most dishes were met with satisfaction, if not relish, though none brought the height of pleasure the tart sample had. All well – the tart would come later.

Once Dean set his utensils down and leaned back in his seat, humming in contentment and the glow of being well-fed, Castiel decided it was time for the next itinerary item. He stood and motioned toward the bedchamber door.

“If you’re finished, make yourself comfortable on the bed. On your front. I need to get something, but I’ll be there shortly.”

Dean suddenly looked somewhat unsure. He placed a hand on his stomach. “I, um. Should probably relieve myself first, my lord.” The corner of his mouth ticked up. “I mean, Cas.”

That would indeed take some getting used to. Castiel nodded and sent him off. Dean’s fullness wouldn’t be a concern in the way he was probably thinking. Castiel was hopeful that the alternative he’d planned would find itself agreeable with both of them.

He called in an attendant to clear the meal, and took a moment to point out the dishes Dean had seemed to like the most, instructing that the remainders should be kept for later. Castiel wasn’t feeling as full as Dean likely was, but the walk he needed to take for his brief errand would further soothe his tensing stomach.

When he arrived back at his quarters, he found Dean on the bed as requested. The room was warm enough now that Dean’s blanket had been discarded, leaving his back bare as usual. That was certainly for the best.

Castiel removed the stopper from the newly-acquired bottle he held and smelled the contents. The subtle scent of lavender infused in the oil made him smile.

“Just lay still,” Castiel instructed as he knelt over Dean’s rear, balancing himself on the bedding. “And let me know if anything I do hurts. I’m… inexperienced.”

Dean’s shoulders stiffened slightly.

Castiel hoped that would reverse itself rather quickly. If not, this would end up being quite the awkward event.

—

Dean’s stomach turned as he felt Cas’ weight settle over his hips. His eyes locked sightlessly on the headboard as he tried to decipher what was about to happen. All the warmth he’d felt from the settling of the delicious (and much too generous, birthday or not) breakfast foods, and the small flame of hope kindled by this new permission to call Cas by name, was seeping out of him.

At first, he’d been sure Cas was about to initiate a session. He’d wished he had been told the plan before stuffing himself full, as it was never so comfortable to laugh on a straining stomach. But now, Cas was taking a commanding position at his hips, and oil was being prepared, and there was talk of hurting and inexperience and Dean was suddenly sure he’d been horrifyingly wrong about where this was heading.

His throat was too tight to speak. If all the trust he thought Cas had built with him was about to crumble, he’d vomit right here, right now, spilling that cloying breakfast back up over Castiel’s pillows. Too much saliva was already gathering in his mouth. He shakily swallowed it down.

Cas’ hands touched his lower back. Dean squeezed his eyes shut.

Oil-slicked palms slid slowly up his spine. At the top of his shoulders, they lifted, retreated back to his lumbar, and slid upward again, repeating the path with slightly more pressure. Cas’ thumbs pressed circles as they went.

Now Dean was thoroughly confused.

“I’ve been considering your suggestion for quite some time,” said Cas.

The pressure moved up just shy of Dean’s collar and began rubbing from there out to the ends of his shoulders.

“When I helped with your sunburn, you told me I’d benefit from an apprenticeship with a masseur. I couldn’t do that, of course, but the underlying idea had merit. Yesterday morning, I sought out a short lesson. I doubt my hands will ever be so skilled, but I hope they can provide at least some small measure of relaxation, in meager return for the refreshment you’ve been giving me all this time.”

Oh, sweet gods of the heavens. A massage.

Dean could nearly have cried in relief. The pieces of their relationship, as he pictured it in his mind, began resealing the jagged cracks that had threatened to shatter them apart. As absurd as it seemed, Cas giving him a massage fit so much better into that picture than… the alternative Dean refused to think about.

The scent of the oil was blooming between the heat of hands and back. Lavender. Dean nearly laughed. If Cas had been reminiscing about the past summer, of course he would choose lavender. Dean inhaled it contentedly and felt the tension in his body being replaced once again by warmth.

Over the course of his time under Castiel, Dean had become quite familiar with a good massage. But there was a significant difference between the practical massages of the castle’s trained masseurs that served to relieve strain, and the massage given now by his caring master. Aside from the obvious imbalance in skill (which Dean had to admit was incredibly endearing), there were no aches to be soothed, no pulled muscles to be attended. It was being given purely for pleasure’s sake. While masseurs knew the body, Cas knew Dean’s body, and Dean’s body hadn’t been treated with singularly selfless pleasure in a very long time.

He hummed at the touch on his shoulder blades. Thumbs digging along his spine pressed him deeper into a groan. Offering Cas his physical and verbal responses was ingrained habit, so there was no embarrassment in how his groaning wavered and pulsed with the rhythmic pressure of Cas’ hands. Just as his laughter tutored Cas in his sensitivities, his sounds now taught gratification.

Cas learned well and quickly, as he always did. It wasn’t long before what he lacked in skill was made up in bespoke touch that melted Dean from the outside in. Where masseurs used elbows and stones, Cas used deft fingertips. Where they kneaded relentlessly until the muscle surrendered, Cas pressed broad, soothing strokes. Dean’s thoughts muddled under the touches like flour and water became dough, losing their individual qualities and snuggling together into a soft, pliable mass.

Just as he tottered on the far edge of conscious thought, Cas huffed a quiet sound of bemusement.

“I didn't expect it to be so difficult not to tickle you right now,” he said.

There was suddenly a small thrill under Dean’s skin, running just ahead of Cas’ hands as though baiting to get caught.

“It seems,” Cas continued, “my fingers are keen on their habits, and I must keep them under strict attention to curtail the impulse. I never predicted this depth of struggle.”

Dean chewed his lip, face hiding in the bedcovers as he weighed his response. “You could... stop struggling, a little. If you wanted.”

“But it’s your birthday,” said Cas, sounding confused.

Dean smiled and, daring a minuscule tease, said, “I gathered that.”

He grinned to himself when he was rewarded with an unseen huff above his back. Perhaps for most, exercising an Accessory’s usual role could hardly be seen as a birthday favor. But Dean’s body reveled in Castiel’s hands, and the prospect of Cas’ novice strokes being supplemented with his masterful ones was tantalizing.

“Would you?” he asked quietly.

Cas hummed. “Far be it from me to deny the request of the birthed one.”

—

As Dean’s groans cracked apart into giggles and condensed again into moaning, Castiel decided that it might be worthwhile to entreat the masseur for another lesson. He quite liked being able to draw sounds of pleasure out from his Accessory. And, of course, pulling laughter alongside was delectable. Perhaps there were other techniques of bodily healing that Castiel could learn and adapt into this enticing mix.

His fingers delighted in crawling the smooth, familiar skin parallel to the deep presses of the heels of his hands. That Dean had asked for such treatment was the sweetest nectar of all. Nothing Castiel had plotted for today could be considered excessive in light of that. Dean deserved all of it.

That still left the problem of the next outlined event, however. He still wasn’t sure how they’d manage it.

Somehow, by the help (or curse) of the gods, Castiel would get better at improvising.

—

“This way.” Castiel glanced once more down the wide hall to ensure nobody of note was passing by before turning into the narrow attendant’s passage.

Dean followed, clearly suspicious and much too loud. “Where are we–”

Castiel hushed him with a flapping hand as they slipped along in the cramped space.

At a more appropriate volume, Dean whispered, “Where are we going?”

“To the central assembly.” Castiel paused at the next cross-hall, hesitant. He was half-certain they should go left. Of course, that meant half his certainty was still unaccounted for. A good portion of it was distracted by the massage-oil scent that clung to Dean in their close quarters. Aside from that, navigating without the usual cues of windows and tapestries was more difficult than he anticipated. “Assuming I can actually find it,” he muttered under his breath. How attendants managed this daily was beyond him.

“Left,” said Dean.

Nodding assertively, Castiel continued leading the way.

A few moments more, and a faint murmur of sound began growing into musical strains deadened by walls of stone. Each turn and narrow staircase up, and up, and up, brought it more clarity until they approached the rectangle of light marking the end of the passage. Stringed instruments sang a refrain Castiel vaguely recognized as he peeked out. Seeing no one, he gestured Dean along behind him and stepped out into the song.

The central assembly lay three stories below, its music echoing up into the great domed ceiling just above their heads. The narrow balcony rail Castiel stepped up to curved around the perimeter of the open space. The decorative patterns painted up on the arched stonework were larger and much more grand close-up than they appeared from ground level, where Castiel was accustomed to experiencing this space. He tilted cautiously over the rail to look down at the gathering below. Musicians were clustered on the center dais, playing some stately song that seeped upward with slightly distorted echoes that gave it an ethereal quality within the high dome.

Dean appeared next to him with an awestruck expression as he took in the dome and the massive space it capped.

“I didn’t know if you liked music,” Castiel admitted quietly. “But I thought it might be nice to hear something other than the turning of pages in my chambers.”

Dean’s grip on the railing was tight as he looked down. The scene below swirled with the gentle motion of people moving through the space, circling the floor to greet one another or flow past groups on their way to further destinations beyond the assembly. A new song began, something more lilting than the last.

Nodding down at the dais, Castiel said, “This group is from near the western border. I thought there was a chance they might play something you’d find familiar.”

A smile was growing on Dean’s face, which was worth every moment of the journey’s trepidation.

“This is…” Dean began, then shook his head. “Thanks, Cas.” He glanced over. “Or is it ‘my lord,’ out here?”

Castiel opened his mouth – then grabbed Dean by the shoulder and yanked him down. They dropped messily to the floor, Dean yipping as Castiel flipped their backs to the wide stone rail supports. He tightened his grip in a warning for silence before leaning slowly to one side to peer around the support.

“What…?” Dean whispered harshly, blinking away his startlement.

Castiel pulled back out of sight. “Crowley,” he growled in annoyance. “With others, on the balcony one level below.”

“He’s on the Council, right? Why are you afraid of–”

“I’m not afraid.” Castiel peeked again. “I just… I can’t be seen. Out here. With you. With anyone. I, ah…” He sat back and rubbed a hand over his face. “I may have lied, to some people, about today.”

“What are you talking about?” Dean hissed.

With a hand partly over his mouth and one eye, Castiel turned sheepishly to his Accessory. “I said I was hosting a sensitive meeting with a Consul – an important one – from… from I don’t even remember where.”

Dean stared blankly.

“I didn’t want us to be bothered today,” Castiel explained, feeling the desperation tightening his words. “It was the only way I could think of to keep anyone from asking questions, about the meal, and… and anything else.”

Another beat of staring, then Dean’s face contorted. He brought a fist to his mouth.

“You– what?” Dean appeared to be fighting back laughter. Then, voice cracking, “Why?”

��Shh!” Castiel reprimanded, but Dean was crumbling. Castiel lunged sideways in an attempt to clap a hand over his mouth. “Quiet, they’ll hear us! It made sense at the time!”

Dean curled, sniggering helplessly at his indignation. Castiel followed and arched over him as if his body could shield the sound. He tried hushing Dean again, but the perspective on his own choices was showing an edge of absurdity. Maybe it was a little amusing. Plus, Dean was giggling all the more for trying not to, and a sudden snort echoed through the dome, acoustically enhanced over the far-below sound of strings. Castiel abruptly switched tactics to cover his own mouth instead to muffle the chuckles amplified by Dean’s mirth. They grasped at each other, choking down laughter in a desperate, failing attempt to avoid attention.

“Who’s up there?”

“Crowley,” Castiel gasped, and flailed forward. He grabbed at Dean, ducking and dragging them both away from the balcony’s edge as he stumbled with panic and laughter. “Come on, hurry!”

They staggered into the narrow passage and fled, wheezing, hands clasped to hold each other up.

—

Part 3

#series: Accessor #Accessor 'verse #Accessor timestamp #tickle fic #stringswork #Supernatural #AU #tickling #Destiel #Dean Winchester #Castiel #ticklish!Dean #slave!Dean #Prologue to Accessor IV

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murdocking · 4 years ago

Text

𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭

c𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝟣; 𝗍𝗌𝗎𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗆𝖺 𝗄𝖾𝗂/𝖿𝖾𝗆! 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗒. 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗎𝗅𝗍𝗂𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗌.

𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: 𝗇𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝖼𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗌𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌. 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝖾 𝖺 𝖿𝖾𝗐 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗂 𝖽𝗈𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗂 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝗉𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝖾𝗇𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗁. 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝗌𝗈 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝗈𝗂𝗄𝖺𝗐𝖺 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗌...𝗆𝗒 𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝖾 𝗀𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗇...𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗌𝗁...𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝖫𝖬𝖠𝖮𝖮𝖮 𝗂 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖻𝗎𝗍... 𝗐𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝖺 𝗀𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗇

Lights adorned every crevice of the wonderous palace, the land decorated with vibrant flowers covering the twisting vines on the archway to the prince’s home. Carriages and stallions littered the entrance of the stone castle, beautiful people with smiles on their faces made their way to the open doors where music played by the talented Takeda swarmed the main room. As couples whispered small compliments to each other and gossiping mothers chose appetizers for their husbands and children- the prince was being dolled up by his irritatingly clingy friends.

“please tsukki- it’s just a little more left-“ “I cannot even breathe through this disgusting paste on my face- god can these imbeciles leave this is pointless.” The prince sighed in heavy annoyance, his blonde hair being tied back (he swore he was going to grab one of Miss Yachi’s knives and cut it himself) and glasses thrown on the vanity’s hardwood. “oh be quiet- its only for a few hours not to mention you enjoy ridiculing your people Tsukishima.” Sugawara grumbled, tired of his complaints as he mixed more water in his brush to loosen its bristles; to which Tsukishima jerked his head, standing up to look down on his older companion. “don’t you forget your place.” Yamaguchi simply stares at the articulate tile below his foot, wanting nothing more than to be immersed into the joy the people displayed outside of the stuffy room he was currently in.

Ukai stands behind his companion, Takeda, while his delicate fingers hit every key on his piano perfectly- simply whispering to him about future songs the two would be playing later during the prince’s ball; Takeda would answer with a distracted tone to all the questions Ukai posed, frustrated the blonde to no end.

“you’re lucky you have an excuse not to be paying attention right now, Takeda.” “of course, that’s perfect monsieur Ukai.” “god dam- “

The moon seemed to be even brighter that night, and to Tsukishima Kei- it was as though the gods had decided to mock his name as he spent another year alone for his birthday, hands of his ‘servants’ fixing his appearance while Sugawara spoke with faux pride in the main room to introduce his prince. The room filled with harsh silence as Tsukishima’s tall stature stepped quietly down the carpeted steps with an uninterested gaze over the crowd of people he didn’t know, and didn’t wish to know. “my prince, it is my honor to begin your-“

The dark doors that had been shut close suddenly opened, the creak of its hinges holding more volume than Sugawara or Takeda could have ever wished to achieve. A battered down woman limped in, her hair was thin against her fragile face- her wrinkles holding dirt and mud, evidence of tough travel conditions. Tsukishima could barely contain his chuckle at her appearance.

“m-my prince…! Please, if you would be so kind a-as to help me, I seem to ha-“ “and you have the pure audacity to enter my home, disgustingly ruining the beauty of this ball…and not even bring me a gift…? You are a bold woman…” Tsukishima scoffed under his breath, Yamaguchi frowned at just how hurtful his best friend had become. “b-but my prince, I do bring you a gift…” she turned to her worn down and sopping satchel, pulling a beautiful rose that even Sugawara could smell from his place in the middle of the room. Its petals shimmered in the candlelight of the party- and its green stem was of such a pigment that all attending were sure not even the finest of painters could achieve such a hue.

Tsukishima breathes hard, walking closer to the elderly woman before gently taking the rose. He stares at it a moment, his hands moving on their own as he throws it behind his back with a small “oops”. the woman stared at his highness in pure disbelief, his arrogance had upset her to the highest degree.

“very well.” she stands up, and its as though she was growing in front of Tsukishima as he stared at the elderly woman morph into a beautiful woman who seemed to only be in her 20s. ‘well fuck?’ she held a strong glare at him as her ripped hood lifted off of her short brown hair, twisting into dark silver crown that never met her strands of hair. “Tsukishima Kei.” He gulped slightly, his hands grabbing onto the end of his shirt as he tried to focus on the (slightly blurry) scene before him, the lady easily moving behind him to grab the flower he had earlier discarded. “although appearances may be deceiving, all should know who you really are at heart” her delicate hand pushed harshly against his chest, her eyes never moving from his “I damn you to become what you really are” her finger snapped in front of his face and stole his coming breath instantly. “a detestable beast.”

When he opens his mouth to retort, a scream erupts instead as his bones and joints of his hands felt like they were being stretched by a torture machine, his spine felt contorted against his caving and heaving stomach. the enchantress watches in amusement, her stare towards his party held no remorse as the flick of her wrist opened the doors once more. “I will count down from 30. You have that long until you join your dearest prince.” it was something out of a manic state that made families depart without a care for each other- a child being separated from their father, and a man being lost without his love. the cooks in the far back of the palace broke the windows with a poor attempt of leaving the horror of the castle as Tsukishima’s screams of pure agony and pain changed into animalistic growls. the enchantress twirls the rose in her hand, her voice of honey contrasting the words that fell out of her mouth “if by the last petal falls, and you have truly loved someone and they have loved you back- you and everyone here will be free from my curse. However,” she cranes her neck and motions her hand downwards- closing the gates to the castle and boarding up all the glass pane windows, “if not, you will forever be a beast. And everyone here will be part of your castle- for eternity.” And with a final roar of protest and pain, Tsukishima had truly become a beast.

-----

“I don’t think I understand that- how could you be selling a whole loaf of bread for 3 coins yesterday and today it is 7 coins for half of a stale loaf? What sick game are you playing here, Bokuto?” You speak with annoyance, tapping your foot on the stone floor while your friend gives you a short smirk “im not playing anything besides business. That, my friend, was merely a discount. You have to pay my full price.” He retorts, giving a smile to a child as the boy hands the older one a bag of coins- setting two loaves of fresh bread onto the kid’s small hands “now I know you’re lying straight to my face, Bokuto.” You say, stuffing your hand into your dirty dress pocket, counting the silver coins in your head as you pull out 2 more before pressing them onto the wooden table. “there’s no way I’d be receiving your ‘discount’ for nearly 19 years. Just give me the bread and I’ll be on my way.” he ponders for a moment, his eyes getting lost in the crowd when he sees the black tuff of hair wandering through the middle of it. “fine, just this onc-“ “thank you Bokuto pleasure doing business with you!” You quickly snatch the fresh bread beside him instead of the one you two had previously agreed on, to which you heard his protests fade out as you stuffed the bread into your woven basket. you greet the widow by the bookstore with a wave and a quarter of poorly cut bread.

“you know, you never have to give me this my dear.” “it is alright though! Kou always lets me off the hook, so I don’t mind sharing Ms.” You say, giving a curt nod before departing- heading inside to catch the eye of Akaashi, his eyes quickly scanning your outfit and bag, seeing the bread inside. “he was looking for you again” “should I feel honored?” you scoff, and he lightly rolls his eyes as he hands you the newest supply of books. “im sorry to disappoint, Y/n- but all we have are the same old stories. Even I’m getting tired of them all” the male beside you sighs, rubbing his eyes as you coyly take the one on the top of the stack. “oh that’s just fine Akaashi, I don’t mind it. It isn’t like I have much to do anyways” “you could be making friends but I mean, that’s just my input…” “now you-“ “hey akaashi!” Bokutos face suddenly comes in, startling you as Akaashi perks up- giving his friend a wave as his shirt and pants is coated in scattered flour. “bokuto what did I say about cleaning off before coming inside…” “but…” “well! I need to be going! Thank you again Akaashi for the supply. I’ll be back later with the ones I took last week” “you know you don’t have to y/-“ he speaks as you stand up, not wanting to be in the middle of the tense atmosphere. “I don’t mind it, I’ll see you both around okay?”

And as every day, you walk through the bustling town- ignoring the stares and whispers directed at you while you flipped the page of the book you were currently reading, the characters felt more real to you than the literal people bumping into you. you kept walking, following the same dusty stones as the day before to lead up a small hill to your part of town- small chicks running beside your foot as their mother hens stood behind them. “father, I’m home.” silence, he wasn’t home yet.

“you know, in a few years- instead of you saying that it could be our child.” You jump, being caught off-guard by the taunting voice of the most annoying piece of shit you had ever met. “oikawa… I don’t know if you know this, but- you’re quite delusional monsieur!” you speak with a fake pep- his smile never faltering as he gives your free hand a kiss. “oh but imagine the sight y/n. wouldn’t you agree it would be quite exquisite?” “no.” “oh” he stops speaking for a moment before a ‘tsk’ leaves from between his lips. “you know y/n, im honestly doing you a favor by asking you to be my wife. Everyone adores me and…I suppose you- you would be comfortable with me. I mean not to mention,” he leans down a little to meet your eyes, “when your father passes, there will be no suitors for you. of course, you are stunning- but being a wife ah… you’re probably…last on the list there. You wouldn’t want to end up the new village widow, would you? living off the kindness of the townsfolk?” his harsh words slipped from his pretty lips, and you stared in disbelief- you were genuinely hurt. “well,” you cleared your throat, blinking a bit to stop any form of an emotional outburst from rising to the surface. “I would rather be a street rat stealing from whoever than being someone’s medal from his war to show off and be of use for pleasantries.” You say, begging internally you wouldn’t crack under his strong gaze. “wow, I wouldn’t peg you for the type to bite. That only makes you more hm…” he gasps. “irritating.” “you should leave oikawa.” “you know where to find me, Y/n.”

-----

𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘓𝘔𝘈𝘖𝘖 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘪 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 + 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘬

#tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #haikyuu x reader #beauty and the beast #beauty and the beast au #haikyuu!!#haikyuu fanfiction #kei tsukishima #kei tsukishima fanfiction #tsukishima fanfiction #sugawara koushi #sugawara fanfiction #yamaguchi fanfiction

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imagine-that · 4 years ago

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Wonder

Warnings: a little angsty I guess? Kinda sad at some parts? Idk lol.

Pairing: (young) Sirius Black x reader

AN: this is my first song based imagine eeeeeeeeeeeeeppppppppp!!! I listened to wonder a few hundred times already and this popped into my mind as I was listening for about the tenth time I believe and it just unravelled into this from there. I love the Marauders, I love Shawn and being able to mix the two makes me so damn happy.

AN 2: ALL LYRICS USED ARE FROM THE SONG WONDER BY SHAWN MENDES, I put the song right below so you can listen and maybe get a feel for my inspiration or for the imagine itself a little more. Hope you love it as much as I do 🥰❤️☺️

Grabbing one last carefully decided on sweater, you slip it into your trunk, carefully closing the lid over top.

As you struggle to push it down to shut properly, the Marauders come bounding into the room, laughter following their entrance, nearly scaring you out of your skin and making you fall back and the trunk to burst open much to your dismay.

“Boys! I almost had that shut.” You groan from the ground, sitting up to give them each a playful glare.

“Sorry y/n! Didn’t realize you would be in here I’m afraid. Are you alright? Not too beat up I hope?” Sirius says worriedly, reaching down towards you and offering you a hand to get up.

You giggle at his dramatics, taking his hand in your own and hoisting yourself off the ground.

Sirius, though a majorly known flirt with every girl at hogwarts, held a special place in your heart. You were best friends till the very end. Perhaps sometimes even closer than he and James were.

Little did you know, he felt the bond between you was more than just that.

I wonder if I'm being real

Do I speak my truth or do I filter how I feel?

“I’ll live though my clothes may not be there every step of the way.” You laugh, the melodic sound filling Sirius�� ears, much to his delight. You gesture to your wide open trunk, making the boys flash a look of mock guilt. All of them except for Sirius of course, who looks genuinely sorry.

“Sorry ‘bout that y/l/n. Mind if I help you?” He asks, an eager smirk on his face. You just laugh, nodding your head as he walks over to the trunk and pushes down the lid hard, a loud smacking sound ringing through the air.

“My hero!” You cry, running over and wrapping your arms around him tightly, catching him off guard.

He hugs back tightly, scared that if he let go you might disappear or something.

“It was nothing fair maiden.” He whispers teasingly, his breath warm by your ear and making you giggle softly, a smile creeping across his face as you do so.

You could vividly remember the first day you’d met the boys, they’d been teasing Sirius about his families beliefs and their tradition of getting Slytherin as a house, the most evil of them all according to them.

Horrified by what they were saying, you’d jumped to his rescue. You scolded the other three for their behaviour and Sirius had been more than amused by your performance. He was immediately taken by you, not that he’d ever tell you that.

I wonder, wouldn't it be nice

To live inside a world that isn't black and white?

Since that day, you and the group had been inseparable and you and Sirius were connected at the hip.

“You’re such a dork Sirius.” You giggle again, your forehead against his chest as you laugh.

He’s thankful for this, knowing you can’t see his reddened face. The other boys however, mock Sirius in his shockened state.

Anyone would be shocked at this sight. No one had ever seen Sirius Black so flustered. It was the strangest thing to see.

“Right back at you y/n/n.” He chuckles, regaining his composure before you can see his previous reaction.

“Hello? What’re we, snivellus snape?” James cry’s out, catching both of your attention as you turn your head, not quick enough to notice the scarlet faced Sirius beside you.

I wonder, what it's like to be my friends

Hope that they don't think I forget about them.

“You could’ve used a simple charm you know...” Remus mutters, earning a sharp look from Sirius and an elbow jab in the shoulder from James.

“Oi! You two! Picking on Remus won’t help you with anything, it’s just rude.” You mock lecture, pulling away from Sirius to pull the shorter and smarter boy in the group in for a hug himself, unknowingly making Sirius more jealous than ever before.

Remus felt a slight discomfort, knowing you were completely oblivious to the tension between the two at that very moment.

“So, packed up for the holidays already y/l/n? My parents won’t stop talking about how excited they are that your family is having dinner with us. I think they might like you more than they like me, their own bloody son!” James exclaims, looking as though the mere idea was completely crazy to him.

“Well Potter, I don’t get into nearly as much trouble as you so I wouldn’t blame them.” You tease, messing up his hair as you often did.

Your two families had been good friends for years and you’d known James since you were born. You’d grown apart over the years but after you both met Sirius the bond grew stronger than before.

Sirius’ eyes widen as he realizes that means spending time over the holidays with you, seeing as he was staying at the Potters this year as well. His parents were, as usual, furious at him for whatever reason.

The idea of being in close quarters with you during such an intimate time of year made the poor boys heart flutter inside his chest.

I wonder, I wonder...

——————————————————————

A few weeks later...

“James for god sake, stop hogging the every flavour beans!” You could hear Sirius cry out as you entered the Potter family home.

“Already fighting I see?” You ask with a playful grin. Sirius and James stop bickering, looking over to greet you only Sirius is at a loss for words.

You’d dressed as nicely as you could, but you’d still brought pants with you in case you needed them to run after the boys and their troublesome antics. However, you’d opted to wear a simple black skirt with a y/f/c top.

“Y/n, looking ugly as ever.” James teases. Just as you’re about to swat at his arm, his mother enters, looking furious.

“James Potter, did I just hear you say what I think I heard you say to sweet y/n?” She demands. James’ eyes go wide in fear as he gulps nervously.

“No I-.” He starts but his mother is already dragging him out of the room, scolding him for his lack of manners.

“Wouldn’t want to be him right now.” You chuckle, watching after the two.

“Yeah... he was only joking you know. I don’t think it’s even possible for you to look ugly y/n.” Sirius admits shyly.

You look at him with a coy smile and surprised y/e/c eyes, your face heating as it tinges pink.

Sirius tries to hold back a grin at the sight, never wanting to look at anything other than your face in that moment, knowing he’d more than likely have some sort of magnificent dream of it later that night, or at the very least have it running through his mind on a joyful loop as he tried to get some sleep.

Right before I close my eyes

The only thing that's on my mind.

“Of course not. It is James after all.” You agree, breaking the silence between you as you nervously run a hand up your arm.

“Yes of course.” He mutters before leaving the room.

The next few hours are spent in bliss, sharing stories between your two families and exchanging gifts and a delicious supper prepared by both of your mothers.

The minute dinner is over, you and the two boys race outside, quick to get away from the chance of chores.

“So Potter, any luck so far this year with Lily? Or are you still getting rejected every bloody time.” You ask with an eyebrow raised in amusement as you walk together.

He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I have you know she isn’t rejecting me. She’s simply having trouble making up her mind.” He sighs.

You snort at his argument, remaining unconvinced.

“Sure she is Potter.” You say sarcastically.

“Alright then y/l/n. This is only fair, so is there anyone you fancy yet?” He asks challengingly.

Sirius looks at you expectantly, waiting for the answer more eagerly than you could tell.

Been dreaming that you feel it too

I wonder what it's like to be loved by you, yeah

“No I don’t believe so.” You laugh, rolling your eyes and shaking your head at him.

Sirius’ face flashes with disappointment for a moment but it’s gone as soon as it has appeared, making you question if it had really been what you’d seen at all.

Shaking off the feeling of suspicion, you dare the boys to race with you down the hill you’d decided to sit on to take a breather. They both gladly take the challenge, practically crashing down the hill into each other.

As they reached the bottom, you continued your slow and relaxed pace, watching with a smile as they both stop to catch their breath desperately.

“We win... y/l/n.” James pants, trying to control his breathing.

“I’m well aware. I just wanted to watch the two of you nearly kill yourselves running.” You say, falling into a fit of giggles as the two chase you around the field.

You squeal excitedly as they catch up to you, both grabbing hold of you at the same time and pulling you back towards them as you kick and flail, failing to break free through your fit of laughter.

The two tickle you together, making you giggle even more, your rib cage aching from the feeling.

“S-stopppp! I get it!” You screech, tears in your eyes from laughing so hard.

The two move away, leaving you on the ground to recompose yourself. You take a few deep breaths, staring up at the sky as you calm down, blissfully watching the clouds.

James waggled his eyebrows at Sirius wordlessly, teasing him for the look of pure admiration he was fixing you with, though not to your knowledge.

I wonder what it's like

I wonder what it's like to be loved by you

After a while, the boys decide to join you, sprawling out on the ground on either side of you.

The three of you lay there for hours, watching the sky darken and chatting about everything you could think of. As you tease James about his crush on Lily Evans, he decides to work up the nerve to send her an owl.

Though you wanted to talk him out of it, you opted not to, too interested in what the outcome may be.

“He’s a real nutter thinking that pestering her will earn her affections.” You laugh to Sirius, your head rested comfortably on his shoulder.

He chuckles. “Yeah, I’m not sure Evans will much appreciate his attempts.” He agrees.

The two of you once again sit in a comfortable silence, happy to be in each other’s company. A few moments later, Sirius notices your trembling figure, seeing your arms covered in goosebumps from the crisp early winter air.

He pulls away, making you glance over at him in question as he removes his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders to protect you from hypothermia.

“Thanks Siri.” You whisper as you return to your previous position, the nickname a habit at this point.

“Of course y/l/n. I’m nothing if not a gentleman.” He laughs, hoping you don’t notice his slight stutter of nerves. No matter how many times you would snuggle up to him late at night or even during the day when you were getting sleepier, he could never stop the way his heart skipped a beat when it happened.

He always worried he would say the wrong thing and reveal his feelings or make you question his intentions.

I wonder, why I'm so afraid

Of saying something wrong, I never said I was a saint.

You look over the skyline with a smile on your face, tugging his jacket closer to you blissfully.

“So why aren’t you with your family this year Siri? I mean, I know they’re not exactly the greatest of people but it is the holidays and I know you miss your little brother.” You question, leaning back to let your head rest on the grass.

He sighs, putting his arms behind his head as he lays down next to you.

“They aren’t my family, haven’t you heard? I’m a Potter through and through!” He jokes bitterly and you frown over at him placing a hand on his shoulder and rubbing it in circles soothingly.

“I know you are. But you’re also a black. You’re brother needs you sometimes too, he’s just too much of a stubborn bloke to admit it.” You murmur, rolling over onto your side so you’re able to face him.

He groans, looking up at the sky and avoiding your gaze as he runs his hand through his hair.

“I bloody well know that y/n. But my mother all but disinvited me to holidays at home anyway so what was I supposed to do.” He mutters, sitting up with his face buried in his hands.

You look at him in surprise, never having seen much of this side of him. You saw the teasing side, the playful and friendly side and the flirty side. You’d only ever seen the deeper, darker side of Sirius once in your life and it hurt like hell watching him torment himself with his own thoughts this way.

“Your mother is a bloody wench.” You growl, picking at pieces of grass with a scowl.

He chuckles bitterly, pushing his hair back with one swoop of his hand.

“Tell me about it, she sent me a letter, practically a howler actually, just to tell me I’m basically the biggest disgrace our family’s ever seen and that I’m basically not a real black.” He whispers.

Just as you go to speak, you’re interrupted by his sniffles. You glance over to see him fighting back tears, practically ready to start bawling right there.

“Hey, Siri. It’s ok to cry you know.” You promise, pulling him into a tight hug. He gets a whiff of your perfume and feels immediately more comforted and loved than he ever had with anyone else, even the boys.

“I don’t know why I’m even crying. It’s not as though I even wanted to be there that badly. I’m being too sensitive.” He musters, his shoulders coming to a slow but sure halt to their shaking.

“You are not. You have every reason to be emotional Sirius. It’s not a bad thing.” You promise, running your fingers through his hair absentmindedly.

He glances at you doubtfully, not totally sure whether you were right or not.

I wonder, when I cry into my hands

I'm conditioned to feel like it makes me less of a man.

“I won’t tell anyone.” You promise quietly, smiling sadly over at his tear streaked face.

He stays quiet, staring out at the falling snow wordlessly, not wanting to further embarrass himself in front of you.

“Are you ok Sirius?” You ask worriedly, scared to have not heard so much as a peep out of the usual smart talkers mouth.

He blinks back more tears, wiping his face a bit and giving you a weak smile.

“Never better. No ones ever really wanted me anyways, at least it’s a fact now.” He jokes, clearly trying to make you think he’s feeling better.

He goes to get up and away from you, not wanting you to see him lose control of his emotions again but the gentle feeling of your fingers brushing against his arm makes him stop, looking at you in curiosity, his breathing finally fully tranquil.

“What y/n?” He asks tiredly, running a hand through his hair yet again. For as long as you’d known him, that’d been his biggest tell to when he was upset.

“I want you.” You say softly, meeting his eyes shyly, your hand overtop of his. “And the potters want you. Remus and Peter do too.” You add shakily, your face blushing furiously, looking lighter thanks to the moonlight.

His heart warms at the tone in your voice, the way your voice softens so slightly. He didn’t know why you sounded so innocent, you never did usually but there was something different in the way you were speaking to him. It felt different to Sirius, but it was a good kind of different. It almost made him forget about all his troubles, the way you often did.

“And whoever you even start to think doesn’t is wrong. Like, incredibly, madly wrong.” You continue, making him laugh slightly and bringing a small smile to your lips. “Your family is wrong about you Sirius. Someday, even they’ll see that.” You promise, moving over and enveloping him in another hug.

And I wonder if some day you'll be by my side

And tell me that the world will end up alright.

As the two of you pull out of the hug and away from each other’s embrace, you immediately feel a lack of warmth, not just outside but in your heart. You miss holding him, and vice versa. But neither of you dares to vocalize your realizations.

Instead, you sit, staring up at the stars and grinning at each other.

Though Sirius still felt the pain of his family’s words inside, his overwhelming sense of comfort and admiration with you was overpowering the negative, making his smile bright and genuine.

“I’m sure James is having a good time with that letter.” He jokes, making you giggle warmly.

“Yes, I’m sure he finished it forever ago.” You pipe in, both of you falling into a small heap of laughter.

He stands, bending down slightly to reach for your hand, pulling you up off the ground.

Not expecting the amount of force he’d decided to use, you fall forward as you reach your feet, practically flying into Sirius’ arms. He holds them out just in the nick of time, catching you right as you land smack dab against his chest, your arms wrapping around his torso on instinct.

“You alright there y/l/n?” He asks, obviously flustered by the sudden proximity between the two of you.

“Y-Yeah.” You stutter, your face going a bright beet red.

He looks down at you for a second, your eyes meeting as he quietly moves his hand and gingerly moves strands of hair off of your face, pushing them delicately behind your ear.

To both your silent delight, your eyes never leave each other’s. Suddenly, the gap between your bodies is shutting until finally, your lips have made their way to being a mere inch from his own.

I wonder, I wonder...

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i-need-air · 5 years ago

Text

Bakugou Katsuki x F!Reader – Man on a mission.

Summary: Reader is an exchange student at UA, althought she could only stay one year. This is the journey and separation. What would Bakugou do once he realizes the girl he loves leaves? Could be angsty, but I promise a happy ending.

Word count: ~3k.

When they first met neither of them cared about each other. The girl, too focused in eating the world and showing everyone her worth, barely gave him a glance the first day of school. Having transferred from the most prestigious American School for the year, working so, so hard to get there through a scholarship, [Y/N] was ready to kick ass, take names, get mediocre grades in Japanese History and get the attention of the top heroes of the world for her next internship. So, they just didn't care about each other.

But over time, as she got close to people in the 2-A class, even 2-B, her attitude and determination caught his attention. At first the girl pissed him off, being just an extra that will disappear in a year and will never see again, yet why was he staring so much? How come his eyes followed her figure as she walked away with Round-Face? How come he focused his attention on her too adorable giggle as dumbass Kaminari tried and failed miserably to flirt with her. And how come his friend pissed him off when he did that anyway? Oh, and let's not talk about how he never ever looked at her train, obviously not admiring her moves, her quirk, that look in her eyes. How he tried so fucking hard to not smile when she messed up a Japanese word and asked anyone around her how to pronounce it, giving no shits and only caring about getting better. He definitely didn't care about how she complimented his food that one time and Bakugou, the snake that he is, somehow manipulated Mina into convincing [Y/N] to cook with them, neither girls noticing him puppeteering the whole situation. So the [h/c] girl ended being part of the Bakusquad in record time, cooking and studying started to be a norm to do together. He didn't care that he got a whole zoo on crack in his stomach as she taught him how to cook food from her home-country or how good she smelled when she leaned closer to his frame, both sitting in his room, books spread around them as she questioned something about grammar. He definitely didn't lose his breath when she casually asked him if she could call him Katsuki, earning a grunt and a Do what you want. from the boy, ears flushed.

But Bakugou was hesitant. Of course he was, she was going to leave at the end of the year yet after the first internships started he realized that he's gonna miss that giggle. Her everything actually. And maybe they'll never see each other again. The boy had his own goals, he wanted to reach number one, he wanted to be the best. Was she a distraction? Because he never considered her one, daring to say he's more driven now... Was it a stretch to consider her made for him? Because that's what he thought all the time and these feelings were eating him alive. In a cool manner, he still had to maintain his reputation, excuse you.

[Y/N] [L/N] had a crush. A big crush on a rather abrasive young man. The moment she realized an overwhelming feeling engulfed her, taking away the very needed sleep as the following day she'd intern with the Hawks. Yet getting zero sleep that night, reality slapped her so hard she didn't even feel fatigue for 36 hours afterwards.

Bakugou Katsuki stole her heart and it was doomed for heartbreak. So separation and moving on was the plan.

Although it seemed like something went over her head. She fell in love with a stubborn motherfucker, yet neither of them knew at the time the lengths he'd go just to be together.

After some time of avoiding each other everything felt wrong. Studying wasn't the same, food didn't taste as good as before when she wasn't half moaning half praising his efforts, her cute way of pronouncing things actually turned into a good accent and even if a time came for the girl to ask for correction, [Y/N] decided to ask anyone else but him. Both were getting stronger separately, finding other training partners and things started to slowly go back to what it was at the beginning of the year, leaving a sour taste in Bakugou's mouth. How come she stole his heart? And how come now she was breaking it without noticing?

And here they were, together sitting outside their living quarters, just staring at the darkening skies, both lost in thought. Once strangers turned into friends and now back at the beginning. Yet the air was calm as it always was between them, like old friends meeting after years of not seeing each other even when they met every day.

"I'm gonna miss this place..." she muttered, gulping down the uneasiness rising in her throat. One more month and she'd leave. One more month and whatever they had would be erased forever. "I'm gonna miss you..." she whispered, deciding it was the time to take this burden off her chest once and for all. For herself, her well being, to explain her shitty attitude although his wasn't better. "I'm... I'm gonna miss your stupid face..." came out in another whisper, lips trembling as she avoided his eyes but when she heard a broken chuckle, strained and forced, her eyes snapped towards him.

His palm was covering his eyes, heart in his throat, not believing that everything lead to this moment.

"You spent too much time with me, dumbass." she blinked stupidity, precious orbs watching him carefully not even trying to hide the shine of tears appearing. "You sound like me now." she chucked too, bitter and quiet.

"I didn't spent enough time..."

And everything just turned back to what they had. As when they were alone in one of their rooms, sharing stories, watching movies, listening to music, each doing their own thing in harmony. So they talked, curfew approaching rapidly but there were many things unsaid. There was no clear confession but her little moment of truth opened a door that has been closed for both of them for a long time now. Actually... Not only the door, all the windows and doors were now wide opened, barricades and walls demolished down and everything flowed naturally. Who would've thought? Katsuki told himself while walking her to her door. He was soft, he has forgiven her in an instant for all the zig-zagging around him, feeling relieved since he felt guilt for doing the same. The stupid dancing around somehow ended when they reached her room, silence filling the air.

"You're a dumbass..." he said yet didn't know if it was thrown to [Y/N] or to himself. The rich laugh earned from her made him smirk. God, how much he missed it.

"You're the one to talk?" she pushed his shoulder gently, yet for the love of god, none knew what the fuck this conversation was really about. Before she could retreat the hand thought, he grabbed it, palms sweaty, fingers surprisingly gentle.

"[Y/N]." he responded, that zoo on crack in his stomach seemed to take life again. They didn't have much time anymore.

No verbal confession was made that night, both scared, terrified of voicing out anything that would instantly throw them back towards their concerns. Yet the sweet, slow kiss they shared got imprinted in their memories forever.

Her third year passed rather quickly, yet this time she was more glued to the phone. Many of her old friends noticed, inquiring who was the boy that she was talking to so much, all in teasing manner, none noticing how her lips would flatten and her expression fell for one second before answering back in a similarly teasing way too. Training, studying, going out with friends but never looking at another guy the way she looked at Bakugou Katsuki. Time flew while they both found a way to stay in touch, as limited as it was through the time zones and goals they individually had to reach.

Memories of their last month reconnecting and stepping up into a new world together, almost together but not official, sneaky kisses stolen from time to time, teasing each other but always with a hint of uncertainty, hugs that lasted a little bit too much yet none caring, cuddles and whispers when alone. But nothing else. Oh, how she regretted it. Not kissing him harder, not hugging him longer. Not telling him clearly that she loved him. Not crying when they parted ways because she sure as hell felt like doing so. They only promised to stay in touch when finally getting a time alone on that last fateful day. Being surrounded by her new friends crying around her, saying their goodbyes and promises of meeting somehow someday. That's when he snatched her for their final time alone. That's when she told him to not forget about them, yet again, never addressing their feelings. And he grunted at her, stoic, constipated looking, a face she'd normally make fun of if it weren't for the gravity of the situation.

But they messaged at odd times, they'd create inside jokes and they'd talk on the phone, his voice always doing things to her.

"I've seen the fight, you were amazing!" she said while carefully picking his face in the voice call, re-learning his expressions, remembering caressing the same cheekbones that now were bruised after a big fight in his internship with Endeavor that could all be seen online.

"Course I was, woman." he said, small yet boyish grin on his face. [Y/N] wanted to laugh, tease and be normal around him in this limited time together but Jirou's words stopped her.

"It's insane. The Bakugou Katsuki has a fan-base now! Like... Girls confess to him every week, he gets love letters! Kirishima makes fun of him but we all know he's jealous–"

Keeping in contact with the people from UA was a blessing and a curse, the latter because of those words. He changed so much, people were starting to see him for what he really was and a selfish voice inside of her was screaming that only her could know this side of him. And at the same time feeling she'd never deserve him.

Without being able to bite her tongue, she inquired.

"So I heard you have fangirls now." bright smile way too shiny, her discomfort was so obvious even through the screen.

"Hah?" was his only answer, leaning closer to his Webcam with a frown.

"A little birdie told me." she shrugged, playing it cool, perfectly knowing she'd never be able to play anything cool to save her life.

"And who gives a shit 'bout that?" I do... almost was her reply. But no, she had to squeeze her own heart and milk the pain out of it.

"I mean, haven't you thought about it?"

"Think about what?" he rasped rather angrily.

"You know, having a girlfriend and so on...?"

"What...?" his disbelief clear on his face, suddenly morphing into anger, now clear and raw. "What the fuck are you even saying, [Y/N]!?" he shouted, breathing heavily. "Are you trying to tell me somethin'? Cuz if you are, you better say it clearly!"

"I–" I'm jealous, you deserve someone by your side, I love you. Please, don't look at someone else. Please, don't kiss someone else... Please, be mine.

"Yano what, I'm done for today, fuck off, will ya?" and with a growl, he finished the call.

The promise she made herself about not crying was slowly breaking, her reflection in the now dark computer screen showing her idiotic self about to burst in tears but she clearly didn't reach that point when an incoming call interrupted her self pity.

"Like fucking shit I'd let go of what we have, dumb woman." is all she needed to hear that day and she did.

"So it seems I need to work a year in America before I could have a contract with any other Hero Agency. Hawks made it clear that he wants me back as his side-kick with Tokoyami but..." It hurt, stupid laws and contracts and scholarships and feelings. Stupid life and stupid everything.

"Only a year, huh?" he said on the other side of the line.

Looking for a roommate was tough. Wanting to put an ease on her rent and to save money for a future she was starting to see more clearly, the woman had some interviews with some potential roomies but none were convincing. Maybe she was picky, but she got this apartment first, picked the best room and her landlady gave her full permission to pick anyone for her. Which was a blessing, really.

So the cat girl with 4 cats was an option. The guy that eyed her a little bit too much was out of the equation. There was another guy scheduled to come see the apartment that afternoon and, the best part, she was getting a package from Katsuki. He offered, actually. Said something about new house gift, brushing it off casually with his trademark snide remark about how he'd send her some cleaning shit. What an asshole, but hell, even if he did send her cleaning products, she'd cry out of happiness.

The guy talked to her through messages, asking basic questions and nothing more. Time to give another tour and talk about rent was coming yet she silently decided to give this guy a nice brief chat, throw him out and look for a girl roommate, even if Bakugou said it didn't matter and should interview both. "You know, to get it over with." little voice still screaming she'd mind if he had a woman as a roomie, but then again, they were nothing...

As 3 P.M. approached, she got a message.

From [Random dude #2 David]:

"I'll be late, hope you don't mind."

Of fucking course he was going to be late. The first impression? Annoying. What if she had things to do? Like wait for a package and then call Katsuki to open it with him there. Random David was pissing her off already.

Half an hour later the doorbell interrupted her thoughts as she stared blankly at her phone. The last messages she sent her... friend didn't actually reach him. And it's been 10 hours? Maybe he was called on a mission. But already? Endeavor surely didn't waste time, huh?

With a sigh she opened the door, ready to greet Random David when her eyes landed on a suitcase in front of her door. Her ears perked at the sound of another suitcase rolling towards her door, basically making her freak out because Random David was definitely not going to live with her now. And slowly, a guy came in her field of vision and the world stopped functioning.

Bakugou Katsuki, with a box over one of his shoulders and as she guessed, another suitcase in hand, reached her door, elevator ding snapping her out of her... uh... dream? Fantasy? Back shirt, dark jeans, messy hair and The Look™ he always had for her.

"Well, I'm here to look at the apartment." he grinned, about to burst into an ugly laughter at her dumb face. Everything until this point was worth it because that face? That face was all he needed. Yeah, the dumb mouth opening and closing, eyes big as plates, frozen in place.

"If you..." she muttered. "If you fucking tell me you're David, I will end you..."

"Ya better not call me that, woman." he said, taking a step towards her, putting the baggages down.

"Are you really here...?"

"What does it look like, huh? Now let me in, I need to sit down, I fucking hate long flights."

Rushing him in, hands trembling, words stuttering, [Y/N] [L/N] was in awe at the man in front of her. She knew, she definitely knew he was absolutely amused by her reaction but there was no helping it.

"You're here..." pulling him inside by his hand, it was so warm, just as always. "Holy shit, you're here."

"Aha, but don't get used to it, woman." he said, leaving the suitcases behind him, arms just wrapping loosely around her waist.

"Huh?" he touched her face, the scent of nitroglycerin invading her nostrils. Same scent she missed so much in the past year.

"Only for a year, then I'm taking you back home with me, understood?"

Although she didn't reply, she couldn't, as she only pulled the collar of his shirt towards her, ready to make up for all the time they threw away. So their lips met and their new life started.

Endeavor worked closely with various hero agencies in America and Bakugou Katsuki asked to be sent there for a year, or more so demanded, leaving the older man speechless. Yet with a single word from Shouto, everything was set running and Bakugou knew he'd have yo return the favor to Icy-Hot someday, but for now she was all that mattered. So when he helped her apartment hunt (even long distance), when he told her to look into this or that Hero agencies (knowing they'd work close to his), when he'd tell her to not mind male roommates (even if he minded, he minded very much), it was all towards the surprise for her.

Bakugou Katsuki was a man on a mission and he realized that in his third year at UA. He was going to be number one. He was going to be the best hero ever. And he was going to have [Y/N] by his side. Always.

Notes: I'm leaving this here since idk man, I had too much coffee and wrote this without blinking. Correlation with the notes? Don't question it. Anyway!! Pretty please, tell me what you thought of it and if anyone here knows how to add the Read More mark on phone, I'd greatly appreciate it if you'd explained me how. I'm way too old for this, I swear, lmfao. Thank you for reading, seriously. Hope you enjoyed and have a great day! ♥

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #Bnha #Mha #my hero academia #my hero acadamy #boku no hero academia #bakugou is fucking extra #F!reader #Fanfic #Bnha scenario #Bnha fanfic #Long distance relationship but there's no relationship because plot reasons #Bakugou katsuki x reader #Angst #Fluff #Noire writes

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inevitably-johnlocked · 4 years ago

Note

fics where sherlock gets in an accident?

Hi Nonny!!!

I don’t have a tonne that I recall, but here’s what I do!! Also check out my whump lists too! And as always, please add your own fics, Lovelies, especially fics where the accident is the plot point!

SHERLOCK IN AN ACCIDENT

See Also:

Doctor / Caretaker John

Doctor / Caretaker John Pt. 2

Doctor / Caretaker John Pt. 3

Doctor / Caretaker John Pt. 4

Sherlock is Sick/Hurt (Sherlock Whump)

Sherlock Whump Pt. 2

Take My Hand, Knot Your Fingers Through Mine by patster223 (K+, 2,003 w., 1 Ch. || H/C & Friendship, Whump) - "I know this is an inconvenience for you, but I would really rather you were awake right now, John." John is unconscious, and Sherlock decides to talk to him anyway. Sherlock/John pre-slash.

The Doctor's Capable Hands by Totally-Out-Of-It (K+, 2,012 w., 1 Ch. || Sherlock Whump, Doctor John, Hurt/Comfort, Hospitals, Anxious Sherlock) – Sherlock is injured during a chase. John sits watchful at his bedside in the hospital and wonders. He wouldn't leave Sherlock alone like this. Especially not if Sherlock wanted him to stay.

Trapped and Upside Down on the M6 by BootsnBlossoms (E, 4,256 w., 1 Ch. || Whump, Car Accident, H/C) – Everything felt wrong. His hair was going the wrong way. His arms were bent in ways he wouldn’t choose to bend them. His neck hurt and he couldn’t really feel his toes. Something was dripping on his face – and rolling up. A car crash. He had been in a car crash.

I'm Pretty Sure This Changes Shit by cwb (E, 7,672 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, Cudding, Doctor/Patient, Accidents, Pining Sherlock, Blow Jobs, Oral / Anal, BAMF John, Minor Injuries, Dev. Rel.) – Sherlock finds increasingly ridiculous ways to get John to patch him up after hurting himself.

In The End by whitchry9 (K+, 9,677 w., 17 Ch. || Memento Fusion || Amnesia, Growing Old, Hurt / Comfort, Friendship, Heavy Angst) – When a brain injury leaves Sherlock unable to make new memories, John wonders how Sherlock will cope, and what it will mean for The Work and their life. Because after all, how can you live if you can't feel time passing?

Catastrophe Medicine by LaSuen (T, 11,550 w., 1 Ch. || Hurt / Comfort, Suspense, Adventure, Whump, Hard Core Bromance) – Chasing after a pyromaniac bomber Sherlock and John wind up in a deserted building which explodes and leaves them trapped under the rubble, both severely injured.

The Hand You're Dealt by Lady Sam Mallory (T, 12,092 w., 1 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Light Violence, BAMF John, Doctor John, Injury, Friendship) – Sherlock, John and several others are trapped in a building when an explosion disrupts the crime scene they are working.

First Response by Arwen Jade Kenobi (T, 13,516 w., 8 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Five and Ones, Whump / Injury) – Five times John had to perform first aid on Sherlock and one time Sherlock had to perform it on John.

The Haze by Ulura (T, 15,381 w., 12 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Whump, Turmoil, Mystery, Worried Sherlock, Mycroft Helps Sherlock, Flashbacks, Blood, Kidnapped John) – Sherlock wakes up, injured and confused on the floor of 221b, the last two days a complete blank. He must struggle not only to recover but to figure out what happened to him and most importantly, find his missing friend John Watson.

The Midas Touch by flawedamythyst (E, 32,231 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Magical Realism, John has a Magical Cock, Dub Con, Healer John) – John Watson has a medical condition that means everyone he sleeps with is instantly healed of all illness and injury. This causes complications when Sherlock breaks his arm, and even more complications when Sherlock falls in love with him. Yes, this is a story where John has a literal magic healing cock. It's a lot less cracky than you're probably imagining. Warning: Contains complex issues of sexual consent, although not between Sherlock and John.

A Hundred Crimson Sols by elldotsee (E, 55,536 w., 16 Ch. || Astronauts AU || Mars Exploration / Space Travel, Slow Burn, Shy Sherlock, Scientist Sherlock / Biomed Engineer John, Alternating POV, Mutual Pining, UST, Angst with Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Injuries, Suicidal Ideation, Zero-G Sex) – Will Holmes is a chemical researcher recognized widely for his contributions to the new Mars exploration program. Thanks to his ground-breaking developments, the IMMC (International Mars Mission Corporation) is one step closer to Martian colonization. Will and his team of scientists are headed out on the first of three manned missions before the first group of settlers arrive. Three days before launch, one of the crew has to be replaced. Will panics because...new people. The replacement is of course one John Watson, biomedical engineer and space hottie who was pretty sure he had retired from actual space exploration and was now content to work in the nice, quiet research lab. Can the crew survive this TOTALLY ROUTINE trip? Will they be able to endure each other for the looooooong trip in close quarters? Gonna be a wild ride... prepare for blast off. Part 1 of SpaceBois go to Space

Lunar Landscapes by J_Baillier (M, 57,046 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || S3/TAB Fix-It, Slow Burn Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Confessions, Drugs, Pain, Medical, Injury, Sherlock Whump, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Romance, Secrets, Tragedy, Trauma, BAMF John, Doctor!John, Drug Addict Sherlock, Injured Sherlock, Grieving John, Idiots In Love, Protective John, POV John Watson, PTSD Sherlock, Sherlock is a Mess, Medical Realism) – An accident forces John to face the fact that Sherlock's downward spiral had started long before his flight to exile even left the tarmac.

Summit Fever by J_Baillier (M, 78,802 w., 18 Ch. || Mountain Climber AU || POV John, Angst, Tragedy, Suicidal Ideation, The Himalayas, Mountain Guide / Doctor John, Mount Climber Sherlock, Loneliness, Drama, Suspense, Slow Burn, Injured Sherlock / Sherlock Whump, Pining John) – After graduating from medical school, John Watson followed his heart to the Himalayas. Ten years later, he's a haunted cynic working for his ex-lover's trekking and mountaineering company. Will leading an expedition to Annapurna I—the most lethal of all the world's highest mountains—shake John out of his reverie, and who is the mystery client added to the group at the last minute?

Proving A Point by elldotsee & J_Baillier (E, 186,270 w., 28 Ch. || Me Before You Fusion || Medical Realism, Insecure John, Depression, Romance, Angst, POV John, Sherlock Whump, Serious Illness, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Assisted Suicide, Sherlock’s Violin, Awkward Sexual Situations, Alcoholism, Drugs, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Body Image, Friends to Lovers, Hurt / Comfort, Pain, Big Brother Mycroft, Intimacy, Anxiety, PTSD, Family Issues, Psychological Trauma, John Whump, Case Fics, Loneliness, Pain) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #my fic recs #sherlock whump #accidents #Anonymous

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itsadamcole · 4 years ago

Text

all i want (for christmas)

fem!reader x roderick strong

it’s been four months since reader and roderick strong broke up. It’s been four months since they last talked, until they’re both invited to the same Christmas Eve party ... “all i want for christmas is for you and me to fix this”

word count: 3k+

warnings: angst, a little fluff, sad!reader, cheating accusations, mentions of cheating

— this is kinda based on liam payne’s “all i want (for christmas”. i love this christmas song so much —

masterlist || part 2 || request an imagine here

***

"Yeah, of course," you say, forcing a smile as you talk to Adam Cole. "I'll be there. I'm not going to let what happened get in the way of holiday celebrations."

Adam smiles, happy. "Yay," he says. "I'm sure the guys wouldn't mind see you there. It's been a very long time. Britt's even been saying how she misses hanging out with you and seeing you."

You give a little laugh and say, "Maybe I'll just steal her away from you for the night."

His smile fades and he jokes, "Don't you dare. I'd like to see my girlfriend at some point during the party."

"I'll think about it," you say. "See you in a few hours then."

Adam nods and walks off. The smile you've been managing to force drops immediately after he turns his back to you.

You would rather do anything else then attend a Christmas party that you know your ex-boyfriend will be attending. It's the Undisputed Era's annual Christmas party. They wear their green Undisputed Era sweaters and rent out a rental hall for the night from about seven until midnight the day before Christmas.

It's about three in the afternoon and there are four hours until the Christmas Eve party. You leave the Performance Center gym at four after you're done working out your anxiety about the party.

You head back to the house that you bought with said ex-boyfriend. You never found a place to move to after the breakup so you've been living here for the last four months.

After showering and blowdrying your Y/H/C colored hair, you curl your long locks and do your makeup. You do a dark red eye shadow with matching lipstick.

Once your hair and makeup are done, you walk to your closet. You look for anything that you could wear to a Christmas party. You find a dark red sequin dress.

The dress is short. ending about halfway down your thighs, with three-quarter sleeves. The sleeves cut off about halfway down your forearm, not quite reaching your wrists. The neck cuts right across your collarbone area, not showing a hint of cleavage. Usually, you'd wear something that shows off your chest but you decide against it tonight.

To complete the look, you put on a pair of dangly red diamond earrings and a silver bracelet. You wear a pair of dark red heels to match the sparkly dress.

As you finish getting ready, your phone begins to ring. You walk over to see that Kyle O'Reilly is calling. You sigh and answer the phone, saying, "Yes, Kyle. Relax. I'm about to leave to go to the party."

"Adam made me call," he says. "I told him to relax and that if you said that you would be there then you would. You're not one to back out on promises."

You close your eyes and sigh. Adam didn't make him call. You one-hundred percent knew that it was Roderick who made him call. You also knew that it was Roddy who made Adam ask you if you would come to the party.

"Tell Roderick that I'll be there," you say. "And don't tell me that it was actually Adam that made you call. I know it was Roddy."

Kyle stammers, "It definitely wasn't, uh, Roddy. He's, um, busy?"

You roll your eyes and say, "Sure. See you in a few, Kyle."

You hang up the phone and make sure you have everything you'll need. You take your car keys and leave the house.

The drive to the rental hall isn't that long. Well, it's close to forty five minutes that's not long enough to calm the anxiety you're feeling and the butterflies in your stomach.

It's been four months since you and Roddy broke up. You see each other at work all the time but something about an unprofessional atmosphere that is sending you into an anxiety attack as you drive.

Your hands are sweaty and your breathing is a little labored as your mind races. You have no idea what could happen tonight. You're terrified.

After you pull into a parking spot, you sit in the car watching several other wrestlers walk into the large building. It's close to seven before you get it together.

You form an objective as you click into the building. Find Britt Baker and don't leave her side.

Britt is your friend outside of WWE. You met her through Adam. You have several other friends that wrestle in AEW because of Britt introducing you since she wrestles for the brand. You hope that they're here too.

Christmas music blares from almost every direction of the room. You spot several pieces of mistletoe hanging on the ceiling as you look around at the decorations.

The boys definitely go all out but it's mostly Britt that makes them go all out. If it were up to the boys then there's be one tree and a few lights. But the room is full of decorations. A few trees are stationed throughout the room with bright bright lights. Gold garland is draped throughout the ceiling, almost hiding the green mistletoe.

The tables have red and green covers on them and each table has a little winter or Christmas themed figure in the middle.

"Ahh, Y/N!" you hear someone shout. You look to the left and see Britt Baker walking toward you with her arms out. She hugs you. "It's been too long, Y/N."

You smile and hug her back before you say, "It definitely has."

Britt pulls back and asks, "You holding up okay? I know how hard it must be to be here."

You nod and say, "I'm okay, I think. I'm just going to hope that I get through the night with no tears."

She smiles and says, "Well, you can stay by me. I was just hanging out over there with Reba and Brandi until I saw your cute ass walk through the door. That dress looks fabulous on you."

"Thank you," you say. "That dress looks good on you too."

Britt's wearing a strapless form-fitting red dress with a black belt around her waist. The top of the dress and the hem of the skirt is trimmed with white fluff. She's definitely dress as a more modern version of Mrs. Claus.

Your best friend smiles and says, "Thank you. Okay, lets go back to Reba and Brandi. We'll make sure you have fun tonight. No tears shall be shed while you're with us."

You laugh and walk over with Britt to Reba and Brandi Rhodes. Both Reba and Brandi both compliment your outfit. "It was a very last minute decision," you'd say when they compliment you, making both of them laugh.

As you're drinking and laughing with the girls, Adam walks over. He hugs his girlfriend from behind and kisses her cheek. "I hope that Y/N will let you come see me eventually," Adam says. "I'd like to spend some time with you."

Britt laughs and says, "Now now, Adam. She's having fun and that's our goal for tonight."

Adam nods and says, "It is." He looks at you as you take a sip of your egg nog. "He wants to see you at some point tonight, Y/N. He's sulking and staying away from you though. Please just go say hi to him and say thank you to him for inviting you."

You give a shaky sigh and glance around the room for your ex-boyfriend. You find him in a corner of the room as he talks to Kyle, Bobby, and one of the new girls that have started training at the Performance Center.

He's laughing at something the girl said and your heart wretches in your chest. "I think he's fine," you state. "And I think I'm gonna call it a night."

All the fun you were having for the past hour or so has washed away and now all you want to do is curl up on the couch with hot chocolate and watch Christmas movies on Netflix until you fall asleep. You don't want to be here anymore. No, you can't be here anymore.

As you start to get up, Adam says, "Y/N, I didn't mean to upset you."

You look at the leader of the Undisputed Era and say, "No, it's okay. I just promised myself no crying and if I stay then that's what's going to happen if I stay so I have to go."

Britt looks at you and says, "I'll come outside with you. Maybe I can convince you to stay."

The walls begin to close in on you and you shake your head. "No, that's okay," you say. "Enjoy the party."

You take once last glance at Roddy to see that he's looking at you before you start to walk toward door.

Your throat has closed up on you as you hold back tears. You walk to your car as you remember the laughter coming from Roddy as the girl said something.

"Y/N!" someone calls behind you as you reach the door.

The voice makes you almost lose it right then and there. You turn to see Roderick Strong walking behind you with a concerned look on his face. You shake your head and walk out onto the balcony area. On either side of this area are stairs that lead to the parking lot so technically you're just outside. The cool breeze whips through your hair and hits your face as you walk outside.

Roddy follows you. "Y/N, wait," he says. You sigh and look at your ex-boyfriend.

"What?" you ask, voice cracking. "Are you here just to walk out of my life again?"

Things didn't end very nicely between you and Roddy.

***

"Baby?" Roderick asks behind you.

You stand in your shared bedroom, holding his phone in your hands. Tears falling down your face as you look at the text notifications from his ex-wife on the lit up screen.

Roderick says, "Y/N? What's wrong?"

You sigh softly and read, "Roddy, love, when are you coming over? We want to see you tonight. Please text me when you get these." When you're finished reading, you look at your boyfriend. "What the fuck, Roddy? You told me it was over with her."

Roddy says, "It has been, Y/N. For two years."

"'Love'?" you say. "It's over but she still calls you 'love'. Okay, Roderick."

He walks over to you and he says, "It's not what it looks like, Y/N."

You cry, "I don't believe you, Roddy. I don't. I've seen you around her. You're happier when you're around her then you are with me. You constantly flirt with her and you disappear for days on end right after you talk to her."

Roderick says, "That's to see my son. You know that, Y/N. Do you really think that I'd cheat on you?"

"I don't know," you say. "You never let your son come over here and you just go over to her house. I've never even met your son after close to two years of dating. What's your lie for that?"

He looks slightly hurt as he says, "Because he's only three-years-old and he doesn't understand that his parents aren't together anymore. Adding you in there will only confuse him more. I've been waiting for the right time to introduce you to him, Y/N."

Things start to come together in your mind. That's a perfectly valid excuse. Troy is only three. He would be confused if you suddenly appeared in his life. He wouldn't understand why his parents aren't together. Roddy and his wife split shortly after Troy's first birthday and they've been co-parenting for years.

"I can't believe that you'd actually think I'd cheat on you," Roddy scoffs. "After two years, I thought you knew me better than that."

You immediately jump into defense mode as you say, "I'm sorry. I just never thought about how me being in Troy's life would confuse him. You're just gone for days on end and I-"

"Apparently don't trust me," Roderick says. He walks to the closet and grabs a suitcase. He puts clothes in it. "You don't trust me when all I do is go see my son, who I rarely get to see in the first place."

You say, "Roddy, please, I'm sorry. Please stay, let's just talk it out." You walk up to him and wrap your arms around his waist, not wanting to let go.

Roderick looks at you and says, "You don't trust me so why would I stay?" You look up at him and stay quiet. "Exactly." He takes his phone from you and walks toward the door.

You stand in the middle of the room, tears falling down your face. He stops, with his back turned to you and for a moment, you think he'll stay.

Your hopes are diminished as he walks down the hallway and down the stairs. Once the front door opens and closes, you start to cry. He left. He's gone.

***

You and Roderick stand face-to-face, alone for the first time in months.

"I never left," Roderick says. "You didn't trust me when all I did was leave to see my son."

Guilt hits you instantly and you say, "You could have stayed and we could have talked. I could have explained why I thought that you were cheating."

Roddy crosses his arms and he says, "So explain."

You say, "It's been four months, Roddy. What's the point?"

"I want to know if there was a reason behind why you thought that I was cheating on you," he says. "So explain."

You lean against the railing and you sigh. "It's because it wouldn't be the first time," you say. "When I first started in NXT, I met this guy and he would leave for a few days every few weeks. He would tell me he was visiting family. I received a DM from a girl who told me that she just found out that he was dating me and told me that him and her were dating each other. She had no idea about me. That's why I freaked out like I did because all I could think about was that message. I'll admit, I freaked out more than I should have but I was scared that it was happening again."

Roderick's expression and posture has softened as you explain your reasoning behind your freak out a few months ago.

Your words hang in the air for a few moments and you avoid looking at Roderick as soon as you're done talking.

Roderick finally breaks the silence when he says, "Kyle told me that you knew it was me that put him up to calling you earlier and that it was me that sent Adam to ask you to come. I wanted you here tonight, Y/N."

You finally look over at Roddy and ask, "Why? I thought you wouldn't want me around anymore after what happened."

"Because all I want this Christmas is for you and me to fix this," he says, reaching out and taking your hand. You look up at him with tear filled eyes. "I've missed you, Y/N. These past four months have been hell for me. I haven't gone a day without thinking about you and what would happen if we fixed things."

The tears start to fall down your cheeks as you listen to Roddy talk. You wait until he's done talking before you ask, "Why did it take you so long to try and fix this? Why did it take you four months?"

A car door closes and Roderick looks at the car. I look to see Roddy's ex-wife holding her son's hand. Her and Roddy's son. Troy.

Roderick says, "I've spent the past four months talking to Troy with Marina. We've been trying to get him to understand that his parents aren't together but that we're still his parents. Marina was talking to him about you, Y/N. She's been trying to get him to understand that she's his mother but that I'm with someone else."

Marina and Troy walk up the stairs and you look at Roddy. He looks at you before walking over to Marina and Troy. You stand in the same spot as Troy is picked up by Roddy. You see Roderick say something to Marina as she hands him a bag that was on her shoulder. She walks away and Roddy walks over to you with Troy.

Troy is looking at you and Roderick says, "So, Y/N. This is Troy. My son. This is the reason I left for a few days every few weeks."

You look at Roddy and ask, "After everything, you still want me to meet your son?"

Roderick nods and says, "I'm hoping that we'll fix things and that the past four months wouldn't have been a huge waste."

Troy says, "Y/N."

You raise your eyebrows and look at Troy. He smiles and holds his arms out to you. Roderick hands the toddler to you and you look at Roddy as you hold Troy in your arms.

Roderick smiles at the sight in front of him. "So what do you say?" he asks. "Give me a chance to fix things with us?"

You glance at Troy before looking at Roderick, saying, "Yes."

#roderick strong imagine #roderick strong fluff #undisputed era imagine #wrestling imagine #wrestling fluff #wrestling angst #wwe imagine #wwe fluff #wwe angst #nxt imagine #nxt angst #nxt fluff #imagines #imagine #fluff #christmas #christmas imagine #christmas fluff #fluffmas

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padawan-jiejie · 5 years ago

Text

My Choice [3 / 3]

Summary: You are Anakin’s twin sister and Mace Windu’s apprentice with forbidden kind of interest in Master Kenobi. You’re there to witness your brother’s turn to the Dark side and have trouble dealing with the consequences. Five years later, you visit Obi-Wan on Tatooine…

PART 1 | PART 2

Word Count: 5.8k

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x reader

Warnings: !MyEnglish!, ptsd talk, talk about regrets, angsty!reader, but also comforting!Obi and fluffy!Obi and baby!Luke + one more character has a cameo and overly fluffy ending the reader is a bit of a crybaby in this one, sorry

A/N: THIS TOOK ME SO LONG - I SINCERELY APOLOGIZE!!! Also I haven’t read the comic about Obi-Wan and his time on Tatooine so… I just hope all of you are doing the best you can and enjoy 💖💖💖

Tagged: @retrobhaddie @multi-madison @treestarrrrrrrr @fandoms-pizza-wifi-ym13 @lysawayne

Five long years since the tragedy of the Jedi. Since their failure and the purge. After all those years, here you were. Flying in your stolen ship, fleeing away from your inevitable destiny. You ran out of supplies and had to take a break, stop somewhere safe. You had a planet in mind, it was close and you were certain no one from the Empire would be looking for you there if you don’t stay for long. It was the hole of the universe after all. But somethin- no, someone was calling for you to land there. So you set the coordinations to Tatooine. You used your connection to the Force to find the perfect place to hide your ship nearest the pull you sensed. You shut down all systems and took a deep breath. For the first time in years, you would step into the harsh, dry and sandy grounds of the planet you were born on. It wasn’t your home for a long time and you felt bitter and nostalgic looking outside. Yet as you were sitting there in the cockpit, you saw a familiar cloak walking towards your position from behind a mountain. At that moment, all your worries and doubts faded like a mist.

You ran out as fast as you could and stayed staring at the figure few feet away from you. Your heart was beating quickly from the excitement and when he pulled his hood off and looked directly into your eyes, it definitely felt like coming back home.

“Y/N?”

“Obi-Wan…”

Your voices were nothing but a whisper. A whisper that told a million words and more. Obi-Wan Kenobi was standing there in front of you and it was like yesterday when you said your last goodbyes. And he was stunned. He came to the conclusion that it was very likely he would never see you again in his lifetime after Order 66. He never quite made his peace with that and couldn’t believe in what was happening. He thought he was hallucinating. There you were, in all your beauty and grace. Your y/h/c hair was messy, y/e/c eyes red from fatigue and your brown robes dusty. Even like that you still managed to look as elegant as always.

Kenobi took a hesitant step towards you, fearing that you might disappear any second. You didn’t. He took another step closer and you jumped into his arms.

“I’ve missed so much, Obi-Wan!” You blurted out as tears of joy started streaming down your face. You held onto him tightly and sobbed and cried your heart out. As he came to reality, he too embraced you and buried his face in your neck. It wasn’t just a dream. You were indeed here. In his arms. Right where you belong.

“Y/N… I am so happy you’re actually here. You can’t imagine how bad it was being alone like this!” He lifted you up and spun around before putting you back on your feet.

You dried your tears, while he was holding you close to him by your waist. “Master Jedi, I… You… Just… Me…” You spent hours thinking about all the things you wanted to talk about with him but now as you finally had the chance to express yourself, your own mouth was failing you. You could not even make up one proper sentence.

“I-I’m… Umm… It’s been so long.”

“I know, I was afraid I would never see you again. I’m so glad that will not be the case.” He said with a blissful expression. You smiled at him and he kissed your forehead, sending a warm feeling to rush through your body.

“Obi… I could sense you. With the Force, I sensed you. I think.”

“I sensed you too. That’s why I came. I thought I was losing my mind. What would you be doing here, right? But now I see that my senses have not abandoned me yet.”

“No, they are still pretty decent.”

“Oh, decent you say? Well, what are you doing here anyway? I guess you’re not just stopping by to say hello to an old friend.”

“Actually, I ran out of supplies so I need to get some food and stuff. And I think I need to check this beauty for any damage.”

Obi-Wan frowned and touched his beard. “That is not the ship Bail Organa had given you. What happened to it and how did you get this one? It looks ancient.”

“Yeah, you really don’t wanna know how I got that. Maybe I’ll tell you later but it’s a long story that I don’t wanna get into right now.”

“If you think that would be for the best, I’ll leave it be. But come on. We’ll go to my little house and I’ll get you something to eat.”

“That would be so nice! I am starving! Um, but I shouldn’t leave her here unguarded.”

“Don’t worry about it. Nothing will happen to it. Trust me. And if anything does happen, I have my methods of getting it back.”

“Alright then. But um, I actually call her Soka. Because of the blue and white stripe there on the side.” Obi-Wan paused for a second, then smiled. With one of his arms around your shoulders, you two walked over to the house that he was apparently now living in. The place looked poor and you couldn’t help but think about the Jedi quarters you spent half your life in.

“That’s a whole another level, Kenobi. Even for you.”

“There wasn’t really much to be picking from.”

“Sorry.”

“That’s okay. I’ll get you some soup.”

You sat down near a tiny window and pulled your legs to your chest. The heat reminded you of your childhood. How you used to help your mom with cleaning, cooking and then would go to play with Anakin and the other local children. Looking back at it now, you could tell that as much as it sucked, those were good times. Just you, your mamma and your big brother Ani. You signed at the thought, pictures from the past running through your head. Padmé, the handmaidens, Qui-Gon and young Obi-Wan with his cute padawan braid. He certainly did not enjoy it when you hopped next to him and started playing with it, asking him questions why is he letting grow only so small piece of his hair. A sad smiled appeared on your lips as you remembered the moment you met. He didn’t really believe in neither you or Ani and none of you could see how important you would become for each other. What a wonderful team you would make in the future. It wasn’t fair that it all fell apart out of nowhere.

“Here you go,” Obi-Wan said, holding out a bowl of soup, waking you up from your trance.

“Thank you.”

After you finished your meal and your stomach felt better and you and Obi-Wan were sitting next to each other, both trying to get a grasp of this situation. You haven’t seen each other in 5 years and it didn’t look like you accomplished much. Quite the opposite. Former Jedi Master looked dragged from his current life, you could see the wrinkles forming on his face. He looked a lot older now. For you, it was your eyes. Obi-Wan remembered how they would always light up whenever you had some crazy idea or simply when you were happy and oh, how he loved your smile! Your eyes had a sparkle in them whenever you smiled or laughed. Now? Your eyes felt cold, tired and filled with sorrow. As if you’ve grown tougher during the time of your separation. He pointed that out.

“That’s because I had to grow up. Suddenly I had no one to look after me and as you know my entire life I had someone by my side. Whether that be my mom, my brother or my master or… Padmé or you. Life had been hard on me, Obi. That’s just how it is. In my core, I feel the same but on the outside, I lost a lot of my faith. But don’t play it on me. You’re damaged too.”

“I am not denying that.”

“Speaking of which, how do you like living on Tatooine?”

He laughed. “Like isn’t the word I would use. More like tolerate. But as you can see, I manage. Nobody’s visiting but sometimes I go to check up on Luke - much to your step-brother’s distaste when he notices me.”

Obi-Wan would swear on the Force that as he mentions Luke’s name, for a split second your eyes filled with that spark he thought you lost. Maybe you weren’t that doomed after all.

“Luke? My nephew? How is he? Is he tall already? I mean, I know, he’s 5 but is he okay? Are they taking good care of him?”

“Not to worry, milady. They are maybe too protective of him but he’s not actually lacking anything. He’s in good hands.”

“What does he look like? Does he have brown hair like Padmé or is he blonde?”

Obi-Wan was amused by your interest in your nephew. He knew you would ask him about Luke but he didn’t realise how eager you would be to find out more about him. “As far as I am concerned, he is blonde. He’s just like his father with blue eyes and I am sure he’s going to be an excellent pilot. Not like someone.” He gave you a side-glace and you looked at him in disbelieve. Is he really challenging me like this?

“Of course! Make fun of my flying skills! You know, I got better since the Clone Wars and I no longer crash-land as you could see back there.”

“I am never going to forget the moment when you almost killed us while landing and Anakin turned at me and said: ‘See, master? And you complain about my flying!’ I will always remember the face you made! And you didn’t want to talk to us the entire day.”

“You two totally deserved it! Don’t try to sugar-code it!”

“Silent treatment never resolved anything, Y/N. Besides, you could have us all killed.”

“No, we are not going down that road. I did save you so shut it, Jedi! I too have some tricks up my sleeve - you are not as perfect as you think you are.”

“Oh is that so? I thought I was being completely irresistible!”

Your body unintentionally reacted with a flush on your cheeks to his statement. Mostly because it was absolutely true and thanks to the fact that you ran out of ideas of how to out-sass him, you just proclaimed: “Okay, I give up.”

“And what were you doing this whole time? I suppose, you still don’t want to tell me the story behind the ship.”

“Well, no. But I was mostly just moving around the Outer Rim. Nothing too special. I wanted to stay off the radar for as long as possible and I think I was quite good at it. You know, putting my stealth-mastery into practice once again. You wouldn’t be proud of me though. I tried to be true to what I was taught since I was nine. To be a good person and to protect peace in the places I went to and I tried to suppress my emotions about all this but… I couldn’t do that. I thought that the Republic were the good guys and I thought that the Jedi, although not exactly always right, were too the good guys. We had each other’s back and now all of that is gone and call me stupid or naive for having hart time adjusting to that. Sometimes it just gets too rough and too much to take, knowing that all of what I was fighting for tumbled down… I’m sorry, it’s just been getting to me lately.”

Obi-Wan put a hand on your shoulder. “I understand. It wasn’t easy for neither of us but it was worse for you. I know how miserable you were when Yoda told you that you should stay out of Luke and Leia’s lives.”

“That’s not the only thing that’s bothering me.”

“What is it then? I am here, you can talk to me about anything. I might not have the solution but I am listening. If that’s enough?”

You were tense. How would you tell him this? How were you supposed to say it out loud? You could still see it in front of your eyes and it was haunting you in your dreams. Never in a million years would you thought that this would happen. After all that you’ve been through you thought he knew better and a part of you still felt like he didn’t deserve it. You closed your eyes to calm yourself down.

You swallowed. “Have you felt… something? Even if it was just in the back of your head…Do you know anything about Anakin?”

Now Obi-Wan knew what you meant. His hand rubbed your back as he sighed. He heard about him a couple of weeks ago. Anger, sadness and helplessness were boiling inside him. He thought Anakin died on Mustafar and when he overheard that Darth Vader was actually causing some problems out there in the Galaxy, he was horrified.

“I found out some time ago. I couldn’t believe it.”

You bit on your lip to stop the sobs coming out from your throat. Salty water blurred your vision. Your heart was aching. You somehow always felt that he wasn’t killed, the feeling of your brother was still present but to learn that he is now a huge threat in the galaxy was not only shocking but also tragic and traumatizing. You blinked and teardrops fell down. You quickly brushed them away and took three deeps breaths.

“Forgive me my sentiment but… It’s hard to deal with that because I remember all those times during the Clone Wars and despite the fact that it was a war, it was actually… Some of the best time of my life. We lost our friends, we were shaken and not once and we risked our lives for a better cause and we were heroes thanks to that but we… We had each other. Me, Anakin, Padmé and you. Even Ahsoka and Rex and Cody! It felt like a family. Yeah, a very dysfunctional family but… It was something to let you know where you belong… Where home is. If I wasn’t on a mission with Ani and Snips, I’d be with Padmé or you, just having the time of my life. It wasn’t perfect but if I knew what was to come, I would certainly more appreciate it then! Now I just…” You covered your face in your palms, crying. “I wish I could just forget that this is happening.” Echoed your voice from behind your hands.

Kenobi felt your despair and pulled you into him, letting you cry your feelings out while holding you in his arms. He himself didn’t exactly process the events yet, but he knew that you needed his support right now much more than he needed yours. He waited for you for five long years and he was ready to wait for next 50 if it meant he could see you one more time. Now he didn’t want to make your issues seem smaller because he felt betrayed too. He wanted to help you get through this so he kept on rocking you back and forward until you looked up. He caressed your cheek and lightly kissed your forehead. He was well aware of what your supposed family meant for you so he decided to let you feel like you still have at least a part of it. Because you do. Dispite his Jedi teaching, he would never let you go.

“Tomorrow I’m going to take you to see Luke. Owen will probably throw us out but if it is going to help you, I’ll take you there.”

“Thank you, Obi-Wan. Thank you so much.”

“Don’t mention it, Y/N.”

You melted into his embrace and listened to his heartbeat. He was a soothing presence to you. He’s always been. After getting over your depressive emotions, you found a warm feeling creeping up from inside you. You buried it deep down so it wouldn’t bring you pain while you and Obi were apart. As you were so close there, it was coming back up to the surface. This time, though, there was no Code, no Jedi Council, no forbidden attachments to make you feel wrong about what you felt. Obi-Wan sensed this change in mood and smiled to himself. He felt it coming back too.

After you both showered - separately, may I add, we’re not there yet - and changed into more comfortable clothes, you decided to go to sleep. He insisted you keep the bed to which you replied: “Obi-Wan, there’s no way you’re sleeping on the floor and I want to feel like I am not alone in here so just… Are you up for cuddles? Please? I need my cuddling buddy back.”

He just shook his head in amusement and didn’t say anything. He couldn’t reject you at this point. Not to mention that when you were together on missions to deal with some Jedi business with no one around, snuggles were on a daily basis. Although I must say, there was one time when Anakin appeared out of the blue, saw you two getting way too close for friends and wouldn’t shut up about it for a week. It was kind of cue though.

Obi-Wan tugged himself under the sheets next to you on his not-so-comfortable bed and lay on his back. You put your arm around him and placed your head on his chest. His heartbeat was steady and calming. Even though you were tired, you couldn’t close your eyes to fall asleep. You had to wonder what is Luke like and what will you feel when you see him. You held him once when he was born and couldn’t help but wonder if he is Force-sensitive too. It would be only logical.

“Obi-Wan?”

“Umhm…”

“Do you think that Luke and Leia should be raised to be Jedi?”

“Well, I hope so. I don’t know about Leia but Luke is so much like Anakin when he was a child, it would surprise me if he wouldn’t grow up to be one.”

“Who’s going to show him?”

“I am. If you’ll stay, you can help.”

You tighten your grip around him. “I don’t know. The problem is that I and Ani had such a bond through the Force and I still feel him and I fear that if I stay here, he may be able to find me.”

“Why would he come back to the planet that represents everything he despises? Slavery, his mother’s death, sand.”

“I know but he had the chance to kill me before as a Vader and he didn’t. What if the Sith have some plans with me? What if they want me to turn to the Dark side?”

“I highly doubt that would happen.” He protectively put his arms around you. “Mace Windu taught you about the Dark side and when they could turn you to it completely, they had no interest in doing that. Why would they suddenly change their minds?”

“I don’t know. I guess you’re right but the possibility of hurting you or Luke is making me go nuts.”

“I understand that but again, Anakin knew that even with your knowledge of the Force and with our feelings for each other being strictly against the Code, you stayed loyal to the Order. Even now when things are so uncivilized, you still decided not to turn, that shows your strength and even if Vader senses you, he will see that.”

“You mean he would rather kill me than try to turn me? Yeah, cool, can’t wait.”

“You know what I meant. You don’t need to worry about him. If he comes, which he won’t, he’ll have to get over me first, anyway.” He kissed your hair and whispered: “Good night, my love.”

You spent so much time in space and on cold planets that now walking around the sands of Tatooine was an absolute horror. You were sweating and thirsty and the two suns high on the sky were blinding your vision. You and Obi were on your way to Owen and Beru’s moisture farm. You never saw or met them but Ani told you about them. He blamed them a little bit for not searching for Shmi and you couldn’t help but feel the same. You were sure they were good people but at the same time maybe if they did something more, your mom would be still alive. You knew these thoughts were not the Jedi way but let’s face it, you and your brother were never the perfect examples of the Jedi.

Obi-Wan stopped and pointed into the distance where you could see a small dot on the horizon.

“That is where they live but maybe you should go on your own. Owen isn’t really fond of me and if you arrive alone and say that you are his step-sister, he’s probably gonna let you in. I’ll wait for you somewhere here.”

“Okay. Thank you, Obi-Wan. I really appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome but umm, I changed my name.”

“You changed your name? To what?”

“I call myself Ben Kenobi now.”

You sighed. “Satine used to call you that.”

He just nodded and you smiled at him. She meant so much for him when they were young that you understood why he did that. He wanted to pay her some tribute. Besides, you would have done the same if you were at his place.

“Well, Ben, wish me luck.”

He squizzed your hand and started to walk away. You swallowed and walked the other way, towards your distant family house. You were nervous and excited at the same time. You desperately wanted to meet Luke but you didn’t know what would Owen and Beru think about you being there. As you almost reached your destination, a sight in front of you made you stop in your tracks. There was a little blonde boy sitting in sand playing with some droid parts. He didn’t seem to notice you so you stood there amazed. He looked exactly like his father. You felt tears of happiness mixed with nostalgia burn in your eyes. You covered your mouth as Luke’s toy fell apart and he mumbled under his breath. You sniffed and made your way to where he was sat.

Luke turned around startled. “Hello. Who are you?”

“Hi…” you whispered, gaining strength to speak more. “Umm, you’re Luke Skywalker, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am. But I asked you first.” He made a grimace of childish anger and you had to smile. You dropped to his level and held out your hand. “My name is Y/N Skywalker.”

His expression changed. Obviously he knew that name and kept on wandering his eyes between your hand and your face.

“You are my dad’s sister?”

You nodded.

“Uncle and aunt told me about you. They said you would never come.” He took your hand and held onto it.

“I am sorry. For everything. I am so sorry, Luke. You were supposed to live with your parents somewhere else and enjoying your life very differently.”

“I like it here.” He was genuine but you knew that one day this place would be too tiny for him.

“Okay.” You stroke his cheek and you sensed the Force in him but he pulled away.

“I shouldn’t talk to strangers.”

That hurt. You were a stranger. He didn’t know you and even if you loved your nephew so much, this was the first time he saw you.

“That’s right, you shouldn’t. I hope that one day I won’t be a stranger to you anymore but for now… It was lovely to meet you, Luke.”

“Sure. It was lovely to meet you too, umm…Should I call aunt Y/N?”

“That’d be great.”

“What would be great?”

Both your heads shot up as you heard a voice. There was a man with scruffy in grey robes and he looked mad.

“Luke, come here.”

“It’s okay, uncle. This is Y/N. She’s my dad’s sister. You told me about her.”

You stood up and Owen frowned at you. He shook your hand, though he was suspicious.

“Luke is telling the truth. I am Anakin Skywalker’s sister and just came to say hello. I never had a chance to properly meet him and I stopped by and I couldn’t go without meeting my nephew. You too. From what I understand, you are my step-brother. Thank you for taking care of the boy.”

Owen crossed his arms over his chest. “Kenobi told you where to find us?”

“Is that a problem?”

“No. I’m glad that we finally met but I don’t want your Jedi stuff anywhere near Luke. His parents had life bad enough and I don’t want him to get hurt like they and you did.”

You blinked confused. You sensed Luke’s connection to the Force and you knew he would become aware of it sooner or later. “We got burned. Many times, I admit but neither Ben Kenobi nor I mean any harm to him or to you.”

“I believe you. On the other hand, why add insult to injury?”

A sandstorm was raging outside. You were supposed to be on your way by now but something always came into it, making it impossible for you to leave the planet. You’ve been living with Obi-Wan for 9 days now and as much as you were scared something unfortunate was going to happen because of your sibling bond, you couldn’t deny how your mood improved over time. You finally had a moment to breathe, to live, to drop the worries because when he was around simply being himself, it was so easy to forget the reality. It would come back to hit you later but when he was telling you stories, he heard in the Mos Eisley Cantina and you two would laugh, it didn’t matter. When you two cooked and tried to combine both of your (anti)talents, sometimes it resulted in friendly arguments and spilt tea. At night, you would fall asleep in each other’s arms only to wake up to the warmth of the body next to you and the calming feeling of safety. If there would be anyone to witness it, they’d say they’re watching a married couple doing normal things. It felt right being there, being like that, although it was a bit strange at first. It made you feel wanted, welcomed and loved. It gave you a sense of much-needed belonging. Little did you know that Obi-Wan felt the same.

It was already late at night but you couldn’t sleep and the sandstrom made you feel uncomfortable. It had been 15 years since the last time you experienced one and you didn’t like remembering it. It brought up old fears to the surface. Lucky for you, though, former Jedi Master managed to stay up as well to keep you company.

“Will you finally tell me where did you get the ship?”

You smirked. “From a friend.”

“A friend? What friend?”

“Don’t be jealous.”

“I am not! I am just… curious.”

You turned to sit on the bed face to face with him. “We’re not the only survivors of the Purge. There are more Jedi in the galaxy.”

“I knew we couldn’t be the only ones!” His eyes filled with hope.

“I met a guy called Kal Cestis. He was a padawan when it happened. He helped me to get my new ship. Not exactly new but better than nothing since my original one broke down.”

“Hmm… Interesting. Do you know anything about Ahsoka?”

“Unfortunately no. I haven’t seen her anywhere. Not that I’ve been to many places but if she’s alive, she’s hidden well.”

“I don’t think she gave up like that. She must be somewhere out there.”

“I really hope that she is. I miss her.”

“We both do,” Obi replied and caressed your cheek. You leaned into his touch and closed your eyes. It was an intimate moment that you decided to delve into.

Obi-Wan was watching you, trying to print this image in his memory. He never wanted to forget you and the way you made him feel. It was precious and sacred to him. You were captivating, graceful and he was thanking the Force every day for bringing you back into his miserable life. He didn’t deserve you and yet he never wanted to let go off you. He couldn’t. He knew it was selfish of him to want you all for himself but he was too attached.

“Y/N?”

“Um?” You opened your eyes to look into his. You were cantured by his intense gaze and your lips parted. You weren’t used to him staring at you like that as if you were the most devine creature in the galaxy and your cheeks turned the deepest shade of pink.

“Can I kiss you?”

Your stomach flipped and your held your breath for a second. You blinked several times before placing your hand over his, still resting on your cheek. “Yes.” was a simple word but there was so much more behind it.

Obi-Wan lowered his head to your level and cupped your face to pull you to him. You couldn’t believe it. After so many years of loving this man and having to hide it, you were able to finally express it. You waited for him to softly press his lips to yours. It was sweet, slow and filled with so much emotion. All of the unsaid ‘I love you’s, all of the suppressed feelings, all of it finally blossemed into this special moment. Electricity ran through both of you at the slight touch. It was new and you couldn’t quite put a finger on this feeling inside you. It was your first kiss after all! Obi-Wan was your first crush, first love, now first kiss and most definitelly he was going to be your first also in another way.

He pulled away to see your reactions but you didn’t let him. Your hands shifted to his neck and brought him back to you. He started kissing you properly this time and let himself loose. Deepening the kiss, he found himself hovering over you and soon you were lying under him. You both laughed as your back hit the bed. He kissed you one more time and lay down onto his side next to you. You stared in his eyes that reflected all the kindness in the world.

“Y/N, I know where you stand, I know Master Yoda told you to stay away from Luke and Leia and I know that you’re afraid what would happen if you stay here longer but please. We’ll figure it out somehow… I love you, Y/N. I have for years now.” He brushed your hair out of your forehead and played with it for a while. “I can’t let you go after this. I won’t. I wanted to be with you for so long and now that we are finally allowed to be ourselves freely, I am begging not to go. Please.”

“I have already made up my mind and I am not backing up.”

He kissed the tip of your nose to shut you and took your hand in his. “Yes. It is up to you in the end. I can’t make decisions for you, I know. I don’t want you to go but the last thing that I do want is to be forcing you into something. Even if you'll leave… I promise that I will wait for you. I have waited ages, I can wait a little longer. I’d really rather not but you are worth it, stars.”

“Obi-Wan…”

He smiled sadly and it broke your heart. He was giving you freedom even when he was lonely. He was fully aware of your stubborness but this time you gave in.

“You are the love of my life. You’ve always been. I have loved you so much all this time and I always will. I want to stay but I am too scared that something’s gonna happen to you or to Luke so I… I thought about it and…” You squeezed his hand. “I decided to cut myself of from the Force so that I could have a life with you.”

“What?!”

“I have made my peace with it. I am like a beacon to Vader if he decides to search for me, this is the only way I can have what I want. You.”

Obi was staring in disbelief. You just decided what your faith was going to be and Obi-Wan was the happiest man alive. He was shooked at first but soon happiness and pure joy took over him and he hugged you, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. You pulled him even closer to you as you let the sandstorm outside be completelly forgotten.

It’s been about a week since you and Obi were living officially together in your new home. It wasn’t ideal nor perfect but hey! What is in this galaxy, right?

You were walking hand-in-hand from a town where you successfully sold your ship, Soka. It was a little sad since she reminded you of your adveture with Kal and of your friend Snips but at the same time, you were most likely never going to need her again. Hopefully.

The two suns were shinning bright, tanning your skin. The course and rough sand was cracking underneath your weight as you walked. The dry air made you thirsty and at some point you couldn’t help but cough. You two were wandering around the place without putting much thought into it and before you knew it, you pauzed.

“Won’t we reach the spot were you first landed on Tatooine if you continue walking that way?”

“I think we will.”

“So this is where it all started. The Skywalker’s journey straight to the botom!”

“Not straight.”

You gave him a you-know-what-I-mean look.

“I’m just teasing. Sorry, Y/N.”

“You always are, I don’t mind but... Actually, you know what? I think I want to change my name too.”

“What? Why? Your name is so lovely!”

“Because it is my choice, not yours, mine. I guess I want to asociate myself with something different. I want to disconnect from my past and focus on the future. Luke’s gonna carry on the Skywalker legacy. It wouldn’t fair if no one carried on yours. Besides, Y/N Kenobi sounds pretty great, doesn’t it?”

Obi-Wan was staring at you with open mouth. “You want to take my last name?”

You put your arms around his shoulders. “I do. I mean, you’re not getting married but still you can take this as a sign of my devotion. I truly, deeply love you and I want to be all yours - body, soul, even the surname.”

He didn’t know exactly how to react to that, so he just crashed his lips onto yours. He was astonished. “I love you so much, my sweet Y/N. You are the greatest thing that happened to me. Although not the name, I am yours too. Body and soul.”

You pulled him into a tight embrace. People passing you by were giving you strange looks but it’s not like any of you cared. You simply stayed in the moment, forgetting all your worries. It was a promising day for you two, after all. Promising for your relationship but most importantly it meant a new start. It was an enterance to a brighter state of existance and a new stage in life. A stage where you could finally be a little selfish and build a life for yourselves. A life where your and Obi’s love, was the only thing that mattered.

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thumbgarden · 3 years ago

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How To Care For Raspberry Bushes In Fall

Whatever one may say, but autumn is on the doorstep, a month or two will pass and it will be possible to slip on the first frozen puddle. So why not start preparing our favorite plants, which gave us the harvest in the summer, for the real winter? Today, we will try to tell you in as much detail as possible about preparing raspberries for winter.

THE TWO FALL CARE PERIODS FOR RASPBERRY BUSHES In general, the autumn period, in any case, in relation to raspberries, can be strictly divided into two periods early and late. The first period, the early period is the end of August, when the weather is still quite warm. It begins immediately after the raspberries are harvested and have stopped growing, and although the wood can still show some growth activity, it is already in full swing for maturity to survive the cold winter. The second period, which begins when the first leaves fall, lasts until a very real frost when you certainly wouldn't go out in the street without a warm coat and hat. During this period, either the snowball actively molds or the soil freezes very deeply, if this very snowball has not yet appeared. What do raspberry shrubs do during this period? They try to complete the process of all the activities that occur to them as quickly as possible.

WHAT DO RASPBERRIES NEED IN THE FALL? I would like to start with autumn fertilization: the shrubs are exhausted and they give us a rich harvest, so why not thank them in return? The second action is, of course, pruning the knotty shoots and thinning them after eating the entire harvest. The third is mandatory preventive treatment against various pests and diseases. The fourth is watering, but watering with culture, watering - as needed, not every year. The fifth is shelter, where everything depends on the region, and in the middle of the United States, where raspberries grow, there is no shelter. But I will still explain how to do it correctly, at least in two sentences. The whole of these five points, that is a raspberry! They say plant and forget. But still, these five points should not be afraid at all. The raspberry is a strong crop that can withstand many vagaries of the weather, and it can come out of the woodwork even without human help.

Care for raspberry bushes in early autumn

1. Autumn feeding of raspberries It depends on the care of many things, such as the soil. If you have bad soil, it is perfectly possible to make potassium sulfate, you don't need much - only one teaspoon per square meter of raspberry soil. This may seem like a small thing, but if the same potassium sulfate is dissolved in water, on soil not characterized by fertility, it is likely to accelerate the maturation of the trees before a violent frost. Regarding fertilizer for raspberries: if you fertilize the soil well at planting, for example with humus or humus, then maybe you don't need a fall fertilizer? Limit it to potassium and that will be enough? Raspberry is a strong, tough plant, and it certainly prefers tasty and nutritious soil to poor soil, but also without excessive amounts of nitrogen, phosphorus, and potassium, and I will tell you that it grows and sets quite well. If your plot has loose, fertile, permeable, permeable soil, then generally speaking, why spend the effort and money to apply additional fertilizer. Excessive fertilizers can cause mediocre stress on Raspberry bushes plants and will not strengthen their immunity, on the contrary, their immunity will be reduced, and therefore - and various diseases. So, let's do potassium, the dose we have already said. Let's go further - micronutrients, which is a rather different hypothesis. In winter and under the immunity of Raspberry bushes, the introduction of micronutrients will strengthen, and winter tolerance will increase. I safely recommend taking 3 grams of zinc sulfate and 5 grams of manganese sulfate (all this, of course, in 1 square meter of soil), surely without overdose.

2. Pruning raspberries Some people are afraid of this dreaded word - "pruning". And what's so scary about it? Well, the shoots of raspberries bear fruit, do their work, cut it to the level of the soil, so why take care of it? Besides, all the green shoots can be removed because they don't have time to mature and they will all freeze. Excess growth is also likely to be cut off. Those who work with raspberries have a golden rule: in addition to leaving the most powerful and strongest growth, shorten it by about a quarter (everything is clear here - so the raspberries will be lush), so also leave the same number of shoots as they cut off as a result, plus 20% (to be on the safe side). This is the tricky part. What are we trying to achieve with this method? We get a reserve, which is necessary for further growth of the Raspberry bushes bush to increase productivity, and if there will be heavy frosts and light snow, there will be a small reserve, which can always be removed in the spring.

Important note: the fruiting branches of the raspberry should be cut off below the roots, sometimes you can even dig it out a little and remove it and cover the area with fresh soil.

3. Watering raspberries in autumn In early autumn, the watering of raspberries should be reduced to a minimum until it stops completely. This is necessary for the shoots to lignify and not to freeze, otherwise, nutrient-rich soil is abundant water and they will still grow into the New Year. It is important to stop watering raspberries only when it starts to rain or when the soil freezes, but if the weather is dry and there is no frost, then you can give a bucket of water per square meter every other day. In general, it all depends on the season; here I am referring to watering: if it is said to be dry and rainy in August and September, then it is worth watering a bucket per square meter twice a month; never allow the root ball under the raspberries to dry out completely. When light frosts start to fall, it is advisable to treat the raspberries with a 2% Bordeaux mixture and to sprinkle some snow on the bushes if it has already fallen (just in case).

CARE FOR RASPBERRY BUSHES IN LATE AUTUMN

Temperatures here no longer exceed 32°F (0°C), the sun is further away, nighttime frosts are no longer rare, and leaves either fall off entirely or shrivel strongly - which means it's time to winterize your raspberry trees. Don't rush to deal with them, winter doesn't come suddenly or once and for all, everything happens in stages. For example, we mulched raspberry trees in cooler areas: a little cooler, but the sun came and looked, so it began to burn, that mulched with wood for those two or three days, soot may. Phase 2: Prevention - expel parasites and diseases that lurk over the winter.

1. Prevention of pests and diseases of raspberries For this, it is necessary to: remove all the garbage from the Raspberry bushes, burn all the broken branches, collect all the rotten berries and leaves in a pile and burn them too, as well as the ashes, which can be used as fertilizer with at least 5% of potassium, but still. If you are 100% sure about your plants and their health, then the leaves of raspberries should not be burned, but sent to the compost pile: decompose, well, and most importantly, the natural fertilizer will turn out. In the same period, you can re-treat the raspberry bushes with Bordeaux mixture, but rest assured, do not use two or three percent, take five percent of Bordeaux mixture and treat everything from bottom to top so that no pests remain (for example, the same aphids or spider mites). For maximum results, it is best to treat raspberry plants with Bordeaux mixture in sunny weather and without rain, preferably with dry shoots, and also without rain for at least a day after the treatment. Of course, if resources allow and there is no internal objection to treating plants with an approved insecticide, then it seems to work better for me.

2. Removing immature shoots from raspberries At this point, everything is easy and quick: take a sharp pruner and a cloth soaked in alcohol and remove all immature green shoots from raspberries, which have certainly not experienced winter, from shrub to shrub, wiping the alcohol leaves of the pruner to avoid infection. If they are not removed, they will freeze in the winter and start to rot in the spring, covered with mildew and the plant's immunity will be reduced.

3. The last watering of raspberries Yes, you could say that - farewell to the season of watering raspberries when the soil has not yet frozen. It is necessary to catch a warm day, and yes, according to forecasts, seeing that after a few days there is still no frost, it is simply pouring the soil, pouring out two-three buckets per square meter of Raspberry bushes. Why? Such watering will help to survive a severe frost, because we know that for a moisture-loving crop like raspberries, too much water in the soil increases winter hardiness, although not significantly. But sometimes even 30-40°F may be enough to keep plants intact and unharmed. If there is a long period of time, say a week, when it doesn't rain at all, then a few buckets of room temperature water can be safely poured under each bush and be fine - if it rains.

4. Mulch raspberries for the winter Now is the time to think about winter mulching of raspberries, which makes more sense for those areas located north of the U.S. central belt. Of course, here, it all depends on the variety - after all, it's not difficult to read whether it's winter hardy, but also on the winters in your area, and the amount of snow. After all, there may be nothing else to shade than snow. For example, you live in an area that is characterized by very snowy winters and moderate temperatures. So, is it necessary to cover raspberries or not? We see no such need. If it is possible, and the branches are neatly bent, you can bend them closer to the ground so that the snow covers them just right, and tie them to any vertical nails to secure them, which they suddenly do not unravel during the winter.

UNDER WHAT CIRCUMSTANCES DO RASPBERRIES NEED TO BE COVERED? First of all - you managed to buy a variety with very large fruits, a high yield, taste - very good. Then it is obviously thermophilic. Second - you have a very cold winter. Third - the winter is not characterized by critical temperatures, but almost no snow, and even when it does snow, it either melts or sweeps over somewhere under the fence or through the yard (kind of like an American winter). Fourth - you managed to buy a species without thorns - which is great, but the rodents will be happy too. Therefore, if you need to cover a bush, it is best to bend it and then evenly cover the top. In frosty weather, bushes should not be mulched; they will burst like matchsticks. Also, you can't bend it to the ground; in my opinion, it should be at a 45-degree angle, so that's a good compromise. Before bending a raspberry bush, I recommend hammering the most basic wooden hook into the ground, then simply wrapping the bush with twine and tying it to the hook, slowly bending and pulling up the twine. Give it a day to rest and "get used to it" literally and try pulling up the twine after a day or two, and if it goes and you get an extra 1 inch or so, that's great. If not, you should first cover the raspberry with fleece and then protect it from mice with a net, or at least put in spruce branches, but that won't help much if they are fresher and more frequent, otherwise, the needles will fly off quickly. People living in northern areas who want to grow raspberries have no choice but to simply cover them with soil and make a kind of mound. Perhaps on the ground and in the snow, raspberry bushes will survive your extreme winters. In the event of snowfall, but it can be less, build a sandbox-like thing while hiding around the Raspberry bushes so that the snow fills all the gaps and piles up without running off. You can use old plywood, honeycomb polycarbonate, or whatever you have on hand as a barrier. If there is a risk of a mouse infestation, you may want to stock up on poison bait and fir wood. Of course, the last ones we listed are for very severe winters. I'll say it again: there's a whole raspberry in the middle of the US that winters so well and produces so well that she needs minimal care, but still needs it.

#ThumbGarden #Gardening Tips #Fruits #How to grow #Raspberry #Bordeaux Mixture #Bushes #Fall #Autumn #Tips #Shrubs #Trees #Orchard #Garden #UrbanGarden #LargeGarden #MediumGarden #SmallGarden #Outdoor Garden #Pests #Fertilize #Watering #Pruning #Plant Care #Care

Author: Ms.Geneva Link: https://www.thumbgarden.com/care-for-raspberry-bushes/ Source: ThumbGarden The copyright belongs to the author. For commercial reprints, please contact the author for authorization, and for non-commercial reprints, please indicate the source.

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maeamian · 4 years ago

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Hey, a few people have asked me about Benford’s law, I think it was on a Netflix show or something like that, but at any rate I’ve explained it a few times now so I’m pretty sure I’ve got a generally useful explanation which I will now unleash upon you, the unsuspecting public.

So, just to quickly recap, for most sets of data that are created through something natural, you end up with a lot more numbers starting with 1 than starting with 9, while randomly generated numbers do not share this property. That makes it a very useful way of determining which sort of data you’re working with and is therefore a useful fraud detection technique. It’s certainly somewhat counterintuitive because of how it doesn’t apply to arbitrary numbers, but it’s often over mysticized of aggrandized for the sake of a documentary narrative which I gather may have happened again here.

So let’s start with some obvious stuff and work backwards into the other stuff. The fist observation is that if you were to randomly pick a four digit number it would start with a random digit between 1 and 9, if it were to start with the remaining digit, the 0, it wouldn’t be a 4 digit number. That means that every three digit number comes before the four digit numbers and likewise for two and one. The inverse of this is that if you’re counting upwards you’re always gonna hit a row of ones for starting digits before you hit any twos and you have to get through all the twos to hit the threes and so on.

The upshot of all of THAT is that if you’re selecting a random number from a data set that doesn’t fit neatly into your 1-9999 selection, you’re going to have to bias it towards the 1′s before you can start biasing it towards the 2′s and so on, each of those taking away from the odds of a number starting with a nine. Of course, we’re still talking about random data and even still, we’re already starting to lose the even distribution of starting digits just by selecting a range that doesn’t have them. But there’s another important reason that Benford’s law can predict the first digit distribution of large sets of natural data, which is that most natural data is based on growth in some fashion that starts at or about zero rather than the arbitrary selection of digits.

The important thing about growth is that it makes it easy to bump out of being an outlier but hard to move out of the statistically weighty ends, if I gain a follower a day I’ll hit 1-9 once each on the way up, but then I’ll have ten 1′s before I get to any 2′s and so on, once I get to the nines again I will finally have brought things back to an even distribution, but I will almost instantly ruin that because the next block of the same size is made out of ones. That means that while overall the digits tend towards an even distribution, it’s always from a position that favors the early digits over the later ones.

And in fact, it’s somewhat worse than that because that’s linear growth, and most growth of almost any sort is exponential, meaning, more than anything, that it depends on the size of the thing doing the growing, and it can go both ways. For instance, in that example, a blog that has 1000 followers is much more likely to gain a follower than a blog that has 10. A sample with an ounce of C-14 will find it half gone in a little over 5000 years, but it will take another 5000 years for it to whittle down to a quarter. In both exponential growth and decay, the 9′s are scarce because they’re closest to their neighbors. If you want to get from 100 to 200 of something, it needs to double, but to get from 800 to 900, it’s only a 1.125x factor, which means that if things are multiplying rather than adding, they’ll move through the nines a lot faster than the 1′s, and since division is just an advanced form of multiplication the same applies to numbers trending downwards.

The last point I want to make, since this is kinda long, is that this will happen for any base you want with the semi-exception of binary (every binary number starts with a 1, although for obvious reasons binary is much more prone to expressing leading 0′s) There’s nothing particularly special about base 10 other than that we use it, for these purposes, and likewise it shows up in every unit system because it’s more a property of the interaction of data and numbers as we use them than it is an inherent underlying characteristic of the universe. A lot of people like to use it to tell the story that it means numbers are essential to the universe, and maybe they are, but to me all this law says is that we use numbers to measure things and those things are, in turn, measured by us using numbers.

#I do know the documentary I just don't know anything about it and it's only tangentially the point #So I didn't want to mention it #Anyhow IDK if it's perfect but this is a lot better than the mystical approach to teaching it #I think I didn't screw anything up but I've got enough mathy mutuals to keep me honest if I did #And if you asked: thanks! It helped me get my thoughts together in a way where I think I can explain it #And I like having that level of mastery over concepts #If I can't help people understand it then I haven't truly understood it #I love answering mathy and sciency questions #what good is knowing but for sharing?#lol haven't done an ol' explainer post in a while #i lifted that final line from terry pratchett I don't mind confessing #Or at least the form of it #It's kinda a natural consequence of zeros not counting is what I'm getting at #Which is a matter of notational convenience and not actually set in any sort of stone #Which is what specifically motivates my conclusion here

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sit-communist · 5 years ago

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I don't normally post but this is for @discoveringenterprise

A/N:

Can a Captain date an Ensign? Why not?

Does the ship have a garden? It does now!

ArcherxRyan

You were laying on your bed, filling out reports on your padd. Your shift had ended over an hour but you were feeling lazy and hadn't even showered yet. You were considering getting up and doing so when you heard a knock at the door.

For a second all you did was stare blankly at the door. -no one ever came to see you- But you snapped yourself out of it, set your padd down on the bed and stood. You looked down at your wrinkled uniform and smoothed it out ineffectively while saying "Come in".

The doors swooshed open and there stood Jonathan Archer, Captain of the Enterprise. Your crush.

"Ensign Ryan" he started, looking down at the padd in his hand as he took a step inside. "I see here you work in engineering, but I don't think I've ever seen you down there" he looked up at you with his eyebrows squished together questioningly.

"Um, I'm usually scrubbing out a plasma conduit" you responded quickly and redirected your gaze at the floor. You couldn't believe he was in your quarters.

"I see" his gaze was pointed at you, then the floor where you were looking, then back at you. He raised one eyebrow and said, "is everything ok Ensign?"

You cleared your throat. "Yes sir" you said as formally as you could. Then you lifted your head to look at him, adding in a in a softer voice, "am I in trouble or something?"

A warm smile spread across his face, as he shook his head "No Ryan, you're not in trouble" he chuckled. "I heard you had a dog" he explained.

Your shoulders relaxed and you couldn't help but return his breath taking smile with a small one of your own. "Yes sir, I do" you said.

His smile that had faded but never truly gone away was back in full force now. "What would you say to a date?"

Your face flushed. "Sir?"

"A play date, between your dog and mine?" He said, clueless to the fact that your heart was beating at warp 2.

"Oh, right. Sure!" You swallowed your drool and blinked a few times to bring yourself back to reality. "When and where?" You asked cheerfully, then added "sir" when he didn't respond within .005 seconds.

"Are you free now? I can go get Porthos and meet you in the garden" he pointed down the corridor towards the greenhouse section. "Unless you want to go somewhere else?" His smile wasn't fading at all now.

"Yes, Captain. I will get Daisy and her things ready. I will report to the garden in 15 minutes sir", you automatically came to attention at the last word.

He cocked his head to one side. "This isn't an order, Ensign. At ease" When you loosened up again he added "You are not to 'report' anywhere, but I do hope I see you and Daisy in the garden this evening" and with those words he turned and left.

You smiled widely at the thought of spending time with the handsome man but your smile faded and your eyes widened as you started to worry about what you could possibly talk to him about.

You walk over to the mirror and run a brush through your blonde hair. -I am the girl who cleans up the mess after the guys 'fix' the engine. I am a nobody. He's the freakin captain!- Your thoughts continue like this as you pull off you uniform shirt and starfleet issue undershirt to replace them with a light blue tank top.

After gathering her treats and her ball, you scoop up the little Jack Russel Terrier in your arms and head out the door.

You take a deep breath before you open the doors to the garden. You look around but you don't see the Captain, maybe he hasn't arrived yet. Daisy squirms so you set her down and she runs in circles around you, making you giggle.

You toss her ball towards the large grassy area and follow her over. She's quick and you have to throw her ball again before you even get there, and once more before you can sit down on the only bench.

Daisy was bringing the ball back to you for the third time when you heard the swoosh of the doors. Daisy heard it too and ran to sniff the other dog. You kept your eyes on the two dogs, Daisy had been attacked by a large dog last year and you were still anxious about her meeting new dogs, but Porthos seemed to be a perfect gentleman.

Once you were reassured that Daisy was safe with Porthos, you turned my attention back to the Captain. He had made his way over to the grassy area and had stopped a few feet from the bench.

He put his hands in his pockets and looked around. "We're the only ones here, huh?" He chuckled. "This place is underrated, the flowers are beautiful! And this is the only place on the ship that the air smells fresh", he took a deep breath, smiling as he exhaled loudly.

-Flowers, ok flowers. You know flowers. You can talk about flowers- "That is a Lord Baltimore hibiscus" You pointed to the tall plant with big red flowers to the right of the bench you were sitting on. "It was named after a 17th century Earth governor, who was only 5 years old when he became Baron" He wasn't responding but he was watching you intently so you continued.

"And the purple one next to it is called a ipomoea nil, more commonly referred to as a morning glory" you paused, you could name all of the plants but you doubted he wanted to listen to you. You shook your head, "I'm sorry you came here for our dogs to play not to hear me ramble about flowers" you said.

He looked at Porthos and Daisy, who were chasing each other playfully. "I think our dogs are ok" he said as he turned back to you. He paused and opened his mouth like he was thinking about saying something. But he simply closed it again and walked towards you.

In fact, he walked past you. He approached the bush with tiny bright yellow flowers on the other side of the bench and bent over to smell it, closing his eyes as he did.

"What's this one called?" He asked when he had stood up straight again. He looked at you with bright eyes, and you couldn't help but smile. "That one is a Japanese rose bush, it is not a true rose, but it is beautiful" You brushed you hair behind your ear and kept your gaze on the plant.

You heard Daisy bark and you whipped around, barely catching the sight of Porthos running out the door with Daisys ball in his mouth, scurrying past a startled Dr. Phlox and down the hallway.

"Porthos! Get back here!" Archer called as he rushed past you and out the door. Daisy walked sulkily towards you and sat at your feet, looking at you sadly. "It's ok girl, we'll get it back" You say, smiling. She wags her tail once in response.

Daisy stood up again and went to sniff Dr. Phlox as he was walking over. The doctor smiled at the dog before looking at you, "May I?" He asked as he gestured towards Daisy. "Of course!" You started, "Your animal collection is legendary though, I'm sure you've seen your share of dogs."

He bent down and scratched Daisy behind her left ear, her favorite spot. "I have seen many dogs, but never a Jack Russel" he replied, nuzzling noses with Daisy before standing up again and walking off towards the insect habitats. "Thank you Ensign, that was a valuable experience!" He called over his shoulder.

You called Daisy over and scooped her up, petting her softly for a moment before standing up and walking calmly in the same direction Porthos and Archer went.

Ten minutes and three pointing crewmen later, you found Archer trying to convince Porthos to come out from behind some crates in engineering storage room c.

Archer was clicking his tongue and saying "come on boy" over and over but Porthos knew if he came out he'd have to give up the ball.

"Captain" you started. His head jerked around, his right hand going to his side where his phaser would be, but he immediately relaxed.

You shifted the unhappy Daisy in your arms and jammed your hand into your pocket to pull out the small bag of treats you had brought. "Would one of these help?" You asked with both eyebrows raised, gesturing the bag in his direction.

He smiled a small forced smile accompanied by a slight scowl. He clearly didn't like the idea of accepting help. He shrugged and flatly said "Sure", reaching out a hand with his palm up.

You pulled out two of the small bone shaped treats and placed them in the Captains hand. Your fingertips grazed the edge of his palm and you felt goosebumps up your arms, then a chill down your back. Your toes curled inward and your breath hitched.

Somehow you maintained your composure as you withdrew your hand and took a step back. "Thank you" Archer said with a much more genuine tone than he had spoken with a moment ago, though he still wore the scowl.

He turned back to coaxing Porthos out, but he didn't have to try very hard now. The beagle was already sticking his nose around the corner of the crate nearest the wall. The Captain held the treat out and Porthos trotted happily around the corner, head held high.

Archers scowl melted and he smiled widely at the dog. The Captain took both of Porthos' floppy ears into his hands and kissed him on the forehead. Then, he dropped the second treat on the floor to keep the dogs attention as he bent over the crate to reach the ball that still laid behind it.

He handed you the ball. "Sorry about that" he said, "Porthos doesn't normally do that, I promise!"

You shifted Daisy again who was now getting heavy. She licked your cheek once and whined. "It's not a big deal Captain, really" you responded as you took the ball from him.

Daisy whines again and you set her down as Porthos comes over to apologize. You hold the ball behind your back as you watch the two canines interact.

The Captain isn't looking at the dogs, he's looking at you. "My name is Jon" he says after a short silence.

"I know" you blurted out.

Your face got hot real quick and you opened your mouth as you tried to think of something to say to recover from that. "I just mean that you're the Captain, everyone knows your name"

"And I just meant that you can call me Jon." He grinned lopsidedly as he took a step in your direction.

Your heart rate was back at warp speed as he took another step, effectively closing the gap between you. He cocked his head and brought his hand up, brushing your cheek with the back of his fingers.

Your eyes were glued to his. "Ryan?" He asked quietly. "Cap-" you stopped yourself, "Jon?" He smiled when you said his name. "Request permission to kiss you"

You knew no one else was there but you still looked around to make sure he was talking to you. Heart rate was at warp 5 now. "Permission granted" you tried to speak normally but it came out as barely more than a whisper.

He lifted your chin and it seemed to take a year for him to lean in. When his lips finally touched yours it sparked something in you. This must be what warp 10 feels like. You threw your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. His arms came around your waist, his hands ever so slowly moving their way up each side of your back.

Porthos barked and you two reluctantly separated. You had dropped the ball, and Daisy had grabbed it and jumped on top of a crate that was too high for Porthos to jump on.

Jon chuckled "Seems like Daisy won this round" he said to the dog. His hands were still on your hips. Your hands had fallen to his arms, your fingers wrapped around the back of his arm just above the elbow.

You shuffled nervously and it brought his gaze back on you. "Ryan, what would you say to a date?" There was that lopsided grin again. "This time, you and me?"

#original fic #jonathan archer #star trek #star trek enterprise #enterprise fic #archer fic #archerxreader

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bladekindeyewear · 5 years ago

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HS^2 bloggin’ bonus 2020-02-01

bladekindeyewear:

Boy that sure is a new HS^2 bonus I should blogread. And there was a commentary on the Patreon for the last proper upd8 too.

I’ll… do it sometime this weekend, not right away. (Had a stomach virus through Monday and Tuesday that’s left me pretty fucked over and still waiting for the aftereffects to flee.)

Alright, taking a crack at both of these now. (Both light on images and quoting, since it’s all Patreon material.) So what’s going on here? Are the bonus chapters splitting into separate stories perhaps, following the lecture in one and the PS^2 crew in another? Also, from the replies on the previous:

gaaraofsburbia said: It was very good and I was very happy

Good to know. Time to read, bonus first! *clicks link*

...the title of a book someone’s holding. Bookmarked (with a red flag?). Uh huh. Good start.

> ==>

“A picture book for young parliamentarians.) ...oh wow, it’s Carapacian even. Did the Mayor have anything to do with this book?

--Wait. Waitwaitwait. This isn’t-- the authors wouldn’t go back in time and show us like-- PM and the Mayor trying to start the-- nooo.

> ==>

Oh shit, never mind. This is a book ABOUT the Mayor. Starting from him farming on Skaia and continuing from there with a focus on societal structures presumably. So, sort of like what I just said but not quite as goddamn heartwrenching, most likely.

You know, this WOULD have been a good opportunity for the authors to finally bring some canon awareness to all the rampant Breath and Blood visual-and-textual symbolism around WV and PM’s arcs, giving people some HINT of their potential importance outside some crazy unproven blog post on some crazy wrong person’s blog. But I’m not really convinced Andrew or his new replacements, er... y’know. Care. About letting us know about all that cool shit. Or even dissuading us if we were somehow wrong. Just gonna... let us haaaang in the breeeze there forever, more likely. :T

...this is still what I’m most bitter about regarding the end of Homestuck, as you can obviously tell. Thinking -- still believing -- that we found something beautiful and deliberate he’d done, but refusing to have canon openly acknowledge any of it so that 99% of readers will never have a clue about it and the few of us who caught on -- if right -- are just regarded as nutters, and if wrong, NEVER have what we need to finally disprove and accept that wrongness thanks to his silence, thus continuing to believe wrongly and be regarded as nutters.

So I just keep reading and... vacillating. Vacillating on whether to believe any of this will get brought up in HS^2 canon, or whether to cynically fear they’ll take the worst route: Doing things EXACTLY like Andrew did and dropping only vague hints that keep it an implied-only, unconfirmed mystery forever. Because that’s what made the comic popular! And it’s “safe”. :(

...man, gut issues really bring the pessimist out of you, don’t they. Let’s keep reading. Once upon a time there was a simple farmer...

> ==>

Horrible kings kept fighting and didn’t care about the land, destroying it underneath their war. Right. (Mostly paraphrasing here and from now, mind you.)

> ==>

WV wanted to stop the kings, but the kings had power.

> ==>

That power had to be destroyed too. (Shows the rings.)

> ==>

Hm, the journey that ends up in the rings’ destruction to the desert? Are we going to fill in some context here?

> ==>

--And made friends with curious creatures and powerful people! (Showing the fake Can Town built with Dave and Karkat along the meteor trip.)

Assumedly internalizing all those practice-town lessons, of course.

> ==>

--Oh, cool! So one of the first things WV and PM did upon coming to Earth C to start their founding process was destroy the rings, the temptation of that power, throwing it into the Forge.

EDIT: krixwell said: "I don't know exactly how it reads in the bonus update because I'm not a patron, but WV and PM throwing the rings in the Forge happened before they entered Universe C, and was shown in HS proper (8107-8111, 8123-8126 and at the beginning of [S] Act 7). It was required to light the Forge and send the Genesis Tadpole to Skaia." Ah, file that under more things I forgot about, then.

> ==>

Where once nothing,

> ==>

Earth C was founded/born, etc.

> ==>

Ah okay! So with a backdrop of the Town Hall under construction, we’re getting some context specifically as to how and why the Mayor set up society the way he did on Earth C. Especially the challenging question of who would govern the world and how.

> ==>

Oh shit, text dump! :D

The problem was unfortunately compounded by the fact that when the topic of fair and effective governance is broached, most sparing intellects immediately assume a certain posture. Not one of surrender or admiration, but of abject and interminable boredom.

This fact makes it hard to treat such a fascinating subject with the proper amount of attention and enthusiasm, BUT WE SHALL DO OUR BEST TO UNDERSTAND REGARDLESS.

Alright, loving this.

Also, this’ll undoubtedly put into context just how MUCH the Mayor had to think about how society would work best to have set up -- and how little comparative thought Jane put into the process when just drafting up something United-States-like and familiar. Remember how awful it was the childlike way the Condesce essentially kept trying to recreate her familiar surroundings and rule structure on Earth? It was only natural that her Life-aspected protege would make similar errors, I suppose.

Back to reading this long page... I won’t just quote all the details of this representative system, because that’s up to y’all to pony up for. But I’ll note if there’s anything interesting in it that makes me think. Let’s see...

...Hm! The number of seats each kingdom got in parliament was based on voter turnout... THAT’S a heavy incentive to get out the vote, if your kingdom can literally lose influence if you don’t.

On the happy occasions where the maximum number of seats were allocated in all four quarters, this was known as a "full House".

Oh, fuck you. :)

...oh dear, that was only the beginning of the card slang.

I’m not going to list all of them here. They make sense in context, which is even worse.

Without going into too much detail, consorts all tend to have significantly shorter lifespans than the other citizens of Earth C. Because of this, a large number of House Rules were dedicated to describing exactly what to do if a seat was vacated mid-term due to the death of its occupant.

Not the carapacian kingdom, the consort kingdom. Don’t panic, y’all.

The DELIVERY OF JUSTICE (DoJ) was founded to keep the peace and arbitrate in all legal matters, and its members were the brave soldiers of God in this righteous crusade.

They also took care of the MAIL.

Oooooof course. :)

Unions get their rep, if only for a pun...

Oh, hm. The Mayor’s office is much like a ceremonial-only monarch’s office without serious power. Etc etc...... reading...

So governing Earth C was a complicated affair, and only became more convoluted over time. But the really important thing was that, despite all this complexity, it worked. It really worked. At one point, a whole field of mathematics was developed just to explain why the interim government worked so well, and they ended up proving it categorically. It was theoretically perfect.

Ppfffff

--ah. And then the Mayor has a chill as he looks at the clouds and somehow anticipates something terrible happening to it all.

That’s it for the bonus. I’m guessing the next chapter of this separate bonus story will go over some sort of threat the system endured, while the Mayor was still alive, possibly? Or cut forward to the creators’ arrival and how that fucked a bunch of stuff up? A sort of demonstration on why the gods who create a universe shouldn’t take charge of those living in it or such? Hm.

Alright, if that’s it for the bonus, let’s see what’s available for Patreon commentary... here we go, just the one for the latest mainline upd8 that I knew had come out.

Sketches and Commentary: Chapter 3, How Are Your Feelings

Before starting into this, I want to note that I do have SOME ray of hope for more Awake Jade involvement to shine against my previous rant -- because that OTHER callie-controlled younger Jade body is coming, which I’d forgotten about. As soon as the pursuit crew arrives in-system and THAT Jade finally gets there through whatever black-hole-powered teleportation magic she’s using (with Aradia and Robodave), it’ll be completely safe for OUR Jade to be awake and active at will. Theoretically.

So... y’know, that’s nice. Whenever that will happen.

So onto the commentary, we’re starting with that stupid ship.

(I think I actually said something along the lines of, "this is stupid, so we're using it." I know my Homestuck history. For those interested, the ship is modelled after a schooner, and continues the Homestuck tradition of spaceships that look like regular sea-faring vessels, only with additional stuff bolted on. - Pip)

...Yeah, can’t blame you there.

This is Jake’s “second best” ship. It makes me really nervous to think about what the third-best looks like.

Flying booty shorts, most likely.

...yeah, I did notice that latest upd8 playing with colors in a way the comic rarely even did, it was pretty nice. Glad to see they appreciate it too.

...Yep, Karkat getting owned just for the sake of it, there.

First off, Jade’s outfit. It rules. Alt!Callie may have violently forced her consciousness inside of this innocent girl’s brain, but damn these threads are sweet. She’s managed to keep Jade pretty on brand, while throwing in a couple embellishments of her own. That’s what we call “making it work”.

Yes, you’d better WELL fucking acknowledge what you’re doing by keeping Jade in a miserable isolated state for three years. A G A I N.

Nice bit about the casual showing of Dave’s eyes as evidence that Dave’s recovering through some of his old mental blocks.

Dave and Karkat are wearing each other’s shirts, which is traditionally a very gay thing to do. Even more notably perhaps is the fact that Karkat is wearing crimson without a hint of complaint. Again, I doubt this was an intentional move on his part. Just, sometimes you’re coming out of the shower, it’s chilly, and your boyfriend’s shirt fits. Busting through mental blocks should typically come across as whispers to me, rather than shouts.

--Hm, never considered the latter angle.

Karkat is being pretty mean to Possessed Jade. Which sucks, but this situation is incredibly stressful, and Karkat tends to react to stress by being mean. Treating Jade like an irritant allows him to put some distance between himself and the reality that he may have lost another friend.

Guh. That one stung :(

Initially the panel directions here were “everybody pauses to contemplate Dirk fucking Strider”

Mhmm, and you figured it’d be more unsettling to reverse it and remind us that the Prince is aware of all of this too.

Roxy’s heart-shaped sunglasses have become such a thing in the fandom that I kind of can’t imagine him without them at this point, so we decided to make it settled law.

Mhmm, I figured that was how they played it. One of the ways they’re incorporating fandom involvement.

Sometimes I feel like it should be Xam who does these commentaries, since there’s so much incredible shit going on with the art here that I’m really only equipped to comment on with shit like “oh wow, look at these colors. Green and purple huh. Wild. There’s also some light.”

It’s pretty understandable to have the writers take the lead on most commentary as opposed to the artists... normally.

But then you’d have the weird places where they’d have to work together without necessarily giving away their game. Like, all that WV/PM Breath/Blood visual representation I mentioned.

I still don’t know if they’re gonna give away the game on that eventually -- or if Andrew even gave them enough to go on to properly REPLICATE that sort of thing in this official continuation, even though my mind keeps telling me it’d make all sense to -- but if they are thinking about it, I doubt they’ll first show their hand in the commentary.

I love Kanaya’s new outfit.

I understand that sure, but will she be sticking with this outfit through the action though? Looking like a mourning nun?

Kanaya’s nursery story is, of course, The Little Prince, a French fairytale from the 1940’s. It tells the story, rather appropriately, of a young Prince traveling through space looking for something he believes he has lost.

“And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.”

I’m not sure why I keep thinking about this quote. Probably some shit that has to do with “themes” or something.

Hinting that once he’s beaten down and likely dying from this stupid exodus plan, at least some part of Dirk may finally realize that any fulfillment and purpose he was looking for with this megalomaniacal nonsense was left behind in the peaceful life he fucking ruined for everyone to do all this. The Heart-blind bastard.

God, Dave is just losing family members left and right, isn’t he? Really makes you think.

Gdi. :(

“Maybe it was naive to think a bunch of twenty something trauma victims could run a society.”

There it is. That’s the whole Epilogue.

And Andrew just had to let us ruin our naivety.

Wow. There really are just a whole lot of feelings in this chapter, aren’t there? It’s very aptly named. And it’s also actually the first part of HS^2 that got drafted; at least the first part that actually made it into the final draft. I wrote it earlier in 2019 when we were still kicking around ideas of what an Epilogue follow-up would actually look like.

Huh. Yeah, I can imagine when writing all this it would make sense to write/use this chapter first, as a knee-jerk reaction.

I do really think Karkat would have been a great president. He would have hated it, but he would have been good at it.

I’m glad the authors are in agreement with everyone else with a brain on this one.

Did you guys know that Karkat still feels immense survivor’s guilt for murderstuck?

Yes. Yes we did.

(Some continued remarks about how Karkat’s self-loathing is like a singularity that draws all blame onto himself in his mind etc.)

Apparently there was a metal gear reference in this second-to-last conversation? Don’t tell me, I don’t care.

Eat the fucking pancakes, dude.

A good place to end the commentary. See y’all when there’s more content!

#Homestuck #hs2 #upd8 #Homestuck Liveblog #Homestuck Commentary #bladekindeyewear #blastyoboots

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