#SORRY TO COME ON HEADSTRONG I AM JUST SO SCARED

[spookierz]

do YOU like characters?? do YOU like any of these things listed below?? do u wanna see SILLY LITTLE DRAWINGS of them????

hermitcraft/the life series

minecraft in general

percy jackson/heroes of olympus/trials of apollo/magnus chase/kane chronicals

the teenage mutant ninja turtles

batman/the batfamily

ragdolls and jesters and other weird little freaks

THEN UR IN LUCK!! I"LL FUCKING DO IT. MY ASK BOX IS OPEN!! SEND IN REQUESTS!!! hell, i'll even do a little doodle of things that ARENT on the list. I"LL DRAW UR OC. IM FUCKING CRAZY LIKE THAT!!! I'LL DO IT. dont you wanna let me let loose??? SEND DRAWING REQUESTS TO MY INBOX!. ITS ALWAYS OPEN UNLESS IT ISNT AND THATS NEVER HAPPENED BEFORE MAN!!!!

HERES AN EXAMPLE OF THINGS IVE DRAWN. i'll draw more!!! im wild like that!!! i dont wanna sound desperate but it would be PRETTY AWESOMESAUCE if u sent doodle requests to me!!!

i dont know how to draw furries but BY JOVE i'll try!!! THE CLOCK IS ALWAYS TICKING!!!! i have NO IDEA when my FERVENT DESIRE TO CREATE will run DRY and for all i know it could be soon so KEEP THAT IN MIND. HUGS AND KISSES!

[frostbitebakery]

LOUD.

a background check.

“Are you angry?”

Obi-Wan shook his head, eyes trained on his hands wringing the shirt’s fabric in his lap.

“It’s okay if you are.”

Obi-Wan shook his head again. It wasn’t okay if he was angry. Even before Melidaan they’d accused him of being too headstrong, too volatile. Too angry.

He’d been so angry on Melida/Daan.

“Are you scared?”

He nodded before he could think. The nod, too, was too volatile, too angry.

“Are you scared you could infect people?”

Amongst others, he thought a bit hysterically. Nodded.

“The healers have tested, rigorously, if you can infect others. They have confirmed that you are not a danger to others, Obi-Wan.”

Which was the only reason he could be outside his room when the walls got too small or too big.

“How are you adjusting to the mask?”

He shrugged. Sometimes he wanted to rip it off and half his face with it. Sometimes he wished he could crawl into it completely and escape the curious looks and whispers of how his jaw was gone, have you heard? I’ve heard he’s rotting underneath—

.

It started with a cough after Melida/Daan.

He got message after message on the progress after he left and it made him smile, sometimes laugh at the betrayed disbelief over how much bureaucracy was actually necessary to form a planetary government.

The laughs soon turned into hacking coughs.

He drank the tea Qui-Gon made him to soothe his throat.

“Just a cold,” he murmured. He’d had that one before leaving Melidaan, and he and the Temple healers figured it was the stress his body had to endure that finally caught up with him.

“If it gets worse,” Qui-Gon started, looked down into his own cup, and fell silent.

Obi-Wan’s return to the Temple was a mixed bag of loth cats, after all.

A year of rumors and no contact showed him exceedingly well and painful in its brutal subtlety of lost smiles and avoidance who his friends were.

Lumi— Luminara had waited outside the healer’s wing after a follow-up check. Had straightened up when she saw him and clasped her hands in front of her. “I am very happy to see you, Obi-Wan,” she said, halted and stiff before the anger got the better of her.

What in the Galaxy had compelled him to leave the Order? No sign of him. Just an official statement that he had chosen to leave the Order. And now he’s back?

“What the fuck, Obi-Wan!” She reeled back immediately. Took a step back.

And Obi-Wan’s life had taught him how to step forward despite the fear clawing at him. “Let me explain? Please?”

She huffed at him, head up high. “This better be good. Quinlan is driving me up the Temple walls with his teenage drama sullenness over you.”

So that was why Obi-Wan hadn’t seen him but exactly once since he’d come back.

Obi-Wan explained. The war. Master Tahl. Master Qui-Gon. The war. The children. The war children. The war. The war. The war—

He hiccuped on the tears and something… something changed. In his throat. He lifted a hand to it—

Lumi’s arm was around him, stroking his shoulder and crying with him. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry—“

He coughed, convulsed with the cough, and there was blood on Lumi.

It had started with a cough after Melida/Daan began to turn into Melidaan and he, what felt like, crawled back to the Order begging for forgiveness and a new path and a new Master while he was at it.

What followed was multiple summons to the Council, a closed door meeting of the Council and Qui-Gon after which his Master wouldn’t look him in the eye for a week.

What followed was Master Tholme being dragged across the courtyard by Quinlan who avoided his eyes but emanated stubborn help. The Shadow Master, which was only a rumor but a rumor that had lasted decades, drily looked at Quinlan before explaining to Obi-Wan how Quin had washed and pleated the robes Master Tholme was now wearing. Would Obi-Wan like some tea?

Tea turned out to be a monstrosity of a milkshake, a secret even more closely guarded than Shadow identities.

“I have been informed you are looking for a change.”

What followed was Obi-Wan getting to know Master Tholme as a person. The soft, comfortable core of him that was never betrayed by his stoic expression but rather the old fashioned music player his first Padawan had gifted him that he danced to in the sanctuary of his kitchen. His silences that invited to share, his calm demeanor, his high expectations and his steady, grounded, and ever ready provided help.

Before all that, the new Master, the old Master, a planet uniting, there was a kiss in victory, in celebration, and in genuine, heartfelt thanks, that transferred a local bacteria.

And that, that had started the cough.

.

“The Force is with—“ is the last thing he’s spoken with his own voice and, with distance and age, he’s rather proud of that one.

A lot of distance and age, granted.

Getting eaten from the inside out had hurt, had pushed him to the brink of insanity with how much it hurt even with the healers - five, six, seven healers working simultaneously to keep him from dying - keeping the pain at bay.

They had used the Force to try to contain the bacteria’s progress, trying to buy time to figure out what was attacking him.

He’d succumbed eventually. The pain, the sheer force of wills battling against the infection, half his neck just… gone. He’d succumbed to unconsciousness with Master Qui-Gon’s forehead against the back of his limp hand, and waited to see if he’d wake up again.

.

“The system Melidaan resides in has a strain of bacteria that,” newly graduated Healer Che halted, managing to shuffle her data pad like a stack of flimsi, “eats human-based tissue. The population is vaccinated and only very few cases have been reported in the past decades. It has been nearly forgotten.”

It spread orally.

Obi-Wan, when everyone was gone and he had managed to limp to his data pad on the table across the room, had sent a message “are you okay? Please go to the hospital”. Had crawled to the fresher, had scrubbed his lips and sutures raw and bleeding, and cried silently until dawn jostled him back to bed.

.

“How are you feeling, Obi-Wan?”

He shrugged. Eyes trained on the cracking open hands in his lap. “How is Thelar,” he signed.

“They are recovering well. Their healer contacted our office to let you know that they are alright and they are sorry.”

Thelar was too nice.

“You pushed them with the Force. What happened?”

Talking and teaching basic sign language and he got to take his first deep breath without the mask and in the company of friends.

Wet and too narrow and he was drowning in the liquified tissue of— no air, no feeling, his lips pressed against his teeth and he couldn’t feel it but the drowning and choking—

“They kissed me,” he signed.

[sky4cherry]

hi #1 bob sheldon defender

can you pretty please elaborate on what you think bob’s relationships with the other socs are ?

ok sooo sorry this took me so long but i am so incredibly ill and my brain is not doing its job 🙂‍↔️

putting this under ‘read more’ because this turned out long

bob and paul: they’re obviously really close!! i hc them both as being only children, which bob feels kinda different for since he’s grown up with chet and brill who both have 2 siblings each, and trip who has a brother. they definitely view each other as brothers, hence why paul was quite as fucked up as he was when bob died (also like to be fair he did watch it happen so there’s that too)

bob and cherry: guys they are so important to me,,, girlboss gf and girlfailure bf… obviously they are head over heels for each other, and cherry’s the only one bob is really vulnerable around, which makes it all that much harder when he’s been drinking. they both want to help each other get through the bad times, but they both know that it’s inevitable that bob’s going to get caught up in the social divide :( they are so important to me :( bob who doesn’t know how to comfort cherry about her parents arguing but really wants to try

bob and marcia: the idea of bob being very wary around marcia because he’s scared she’ll spread slander about him is so funny to me because she is only 3 apples tall!! you’re telling me you’re scared of her when she’s 3 apples tall and riddled with anxiety?? they’re close because they’re the two who are closest with cherry, so they spend a lot of time together, but bro is quaking in his boots because he’s so scared she’ll put the embarrassing shit she knows about him to use

bob and trip: dyslexic bob sheldon who claims he just ‘doesn’t get it’ when he struggles with homework, and trip who helps him out without making any jokes at bob’s expense. trip (in my head) presents as quite stoic on the outside even though he’s secretly silly, while bob is more outwardly silly, so they balance each other out. trip who knows the best out of all the guys that the fighting is worthless, but knows exactly why bob does it. and bob who knows trip doesn’t fully support the fighting, but encourages him to join in so trip can control something. they’re not the absolute closest of the bunch, but they are very important to me!!

bob and chet: bob sheldon who wreaks havoc on his parents to try and get them to parent him better, but he takes things far more seriously when chet is the one being ignored by his parents. bob who doesn’t let chet go a night sleeping at his own home unless it’s by choice, so he always fixes up the couch for him in case chet lets himself in while bob’s asleep. they’re close. they’re so similar in the way they’re treated by their families, and how they choose to cope with that treatment. i don’t think i can actually put into words how important they are to meee!!!

bob and bev: oh you thought he was scared of marcia? beverly jitney-bush is no man’s peace. they’re close in the way they argue a ton but it doesn’t change their dynamic at all! with bev constantly at brill’s, and brill living 2 doors down from bob, they spend a lot of time together! bob’s probably the most headstrong guy, while bev’s the most headstrong girl, so they’re both close and at constant odds with each other. i think they argue because they’re similar, but they know they understand each other well enough to know when they’re going too far.

bob and brill: childhood best friends type shit!! they’ve known each other since they were little kids, and brill’s always balanced bob out really well. when bob’s letting his emotions guide him, brill’s there to help him regulate himself. they’re pretty big opposites from each other, but it’s something that really comes in handy when one gets in a situation he’s not exactly equipped for, because the other will always come to his aid. all the more tragic considering bob and brill make direct eye contact when bob gets stabbed

[phoeebsbuffay]

Imagine “Star Wars” special edition: movies.

•Black, Red, Royal•

Imagine you and General Skywalker don’t get along at all, but for the sake of the Republic, you are forced to appear to work well together…Part II.

Warnings: based on “Red Blue Royal” movie.

Warnings 2: fluffy, light/comfort reading; bits of drama.

Warnings 3: *long* post.

***

• Anakin’s POV.

He is baffled by how all of suddenly you run away like that. Part of him is frustrated for your behavior, but another understands perfectly well.

From former rivals, you’ve begun to go further these lines. Friendship is not exactly what he aims now when it comes to you. And when reading your unspoken thoughts, he knows you are feeling the same.

But he is afraid of losing you as much as you are scared of knowing he is not loving anyone after the thing he had with Padmé Amidala ended… and not in the friendliest terms.

How could he tell you about her, how he was hurt by her actions? How could he tell you how intense he is? He wants to give all of him to you, knowing you deserve it, but damn… Anakin hesitates.

Watching you go is simply not enough, though. Specially now when is about to rain and the Jedi must not let you alone by any means. However, as he mounts his horse and rides after you, the male realizes he cannot live under shadows for so long. The idea of losing you is a weight he cannot bear.

Not anymore.

Anakin finds you after looking for your thoughts. The insecurities, the fears…sentiments he’s been familiar with come right to crush him. Because he knows he could dissipate them. But he never did.

You stupid moron.

Sighing heavily, it’s comical, when not tragic, this is the way he finds to love again. When seeing your fragility, displayed to no other’s eyes but his, he comes to his senses.

“Y/N…”

“You should not come over”, you tell him in defiance, refusing to look at him. “Go away, Anakin.”

“I am not”, the Jedi snaps back. “First of all, I cannot leave you like that: did you forget of your position? Second, would you please act in a more mature way and hear what I have to say?”

You may be proud, but not unreasonable. As you slowly turn, you find him standing right before you. Underneath some cork tree, you are oblivious to the storm forming not far from where you are.

“You are right. That was not proper of me to flee like that”, you admit it, though you avoid his eyes. “I just… I panicked. I’ve never been here, it’s an unknown path for me. All my life I’ve been taught to live by duty, to die for duty. But if duty must be the death of my liberty, of the way I think and feel, I am not prepared to be sacrificed. And there is another factor. I…”

You swallow hard, feeling your shoulders shake. Anakin, however, comprehends you more than you think. He soothes you, rubbing his hands around your arms before lifting your chin so your eyes meet.

“Don’t speak. I know. I understand… But if only had you not been so headstrong, woman”, he smiles and so do you. “I’ve been with Padmé Amidala for some while, yes, but we didn’t work out. She was the first woman I’ve loved and when we parted ways, I was really upset.”

That way, he opens up with you. When he does, Anakin sees you softening, listening attentively, at the same he can hear your thoughts, how sorry you feel for him.

By the time he ends, though, rain is already falling.

“Anakin… I’m really sorry.”

“So was I for a while. It has been some good years, I needed to move on”, he gently strokes your cheek. “Looks like I finally did.”

Your heart skips a beat and though you unconsciously draw your body closer to him, Anakin can still see insecurity playing behind your y/c eyes.

“I will not hurt you, love. I promise.”

You relax your shoulders before locking your arms around his neck. Ignoring the drops of rain that fall over your head, you tip toe before finally kissing his lips.

***

• Your POV.

When you get to the palace later, both of you are soaked. Thankfully there are not so many people there present to see the scene. Nonetheless, you are still all over him, never tired of kissing his lips.

“I love you”, you profess your sentiments ardently. “My general, my knight.”

He smiles at you. It is such a sight to behold, you make no effort in hiding how you feel. His blue eyes are so inviting…

“I love you, my princess”, he takes your hands and kisses each. “Thank you for bringing me back to life”.

It’s all good indeed. For now, though. After you part ways, there is a meeting happening. Not just after you come clean from your bath, now dressed in green, you are rushed to the main room. There, you are waited and judging by their grave faces, you expect the worse.

“General Grievous has landed here”, Anakin tells you with no ceremony. “You must go right away, my lady.”

“Go?”, you pale before the suggestion. “Go where? I cannot abandon my planet when my own position is weak!”

“There is no other option, Madame”, intrudes the Prime-Minister. “The Jedi is leading you to a safer place. General Rex staying to fight such an enemy.”

You exchange pained looks with Anakin, but he doesn’t show any emotion, a wise move you try to follow. But due to your reluctance, you are told:

“Madame, we need to preserve you. There is little to be gained under an attack. Maker forbid, but if Grievous takes you, we are no more. Your mere existence means resistance.”

“Very well, then. I will do what I can. Where should I go to?”, you ask cooly.

“We must leave right away”, says Anakin in a tone that doesn’t accept any argument. “I shall not leave any instructions to where we are going for obvious reasons. However, Rex is my right hand here. I am counting on you to gather the best men and delay Grievous as much as we can.”

“We won’t fail you, Sir”, says Rex.

What happens next is all too fast for you to process. You leave one lady in waiting behind so the poor woman is disguised as you to fool the enemy in case there is an invasion of the palace. All the whilst you are taken like a fugitive under a black cape to Anakin’s ship.

“We are doing for you and your planet”, Anakin breaks the tension as he carefully helps you going inside the ship. “Hence what I was designated for: to look after you.”

You agree, albeit reluctantly. Soon, you take your seat and wait as he starts to pilot away from all you’ve ever known.

***

• Anakin’s POV.

He doesn’t appreciate when you are silent. When you are quiet, nothing seems to fit well. He prefers to hear you babbling, speaking about nonsenses that having you staring out the window in sad contemplations.

Right after he told his master about the current situation of your planet, Anakin decides to make you chatty again. He thus chooses a topic that, although he hopes not to get you overly upset about it, will make you talk. And he does like to hear you talking.

Though since he stepped in planet Y/C, he already knew your background, the Jedi wants to hear from your point of view.

“So, what’s with the need of getting yourself married to preserve the crown?”, Anakin inquires, a smirk popping on his lips when perceiving he gets you smiling quietly. “I mean, do you have any suitors already?”

You sigh.

“I don’t know yet, to be honest with you. At least, where marriage is concerned I was permitted to choose my consort—as long it proves to be a decent choice”, you grimace. “My Council states I’m in the prime of my age so I must not take long to get married and produce an heir.”

“How so?”

It’s when you tell him about how you come up to the throne. Your parents descended from a long line of princes who always had a good relation with the Galactic Senate. However, when your father passed the throne to his eldest son, a civil war erupted—mostly because he married twice, and one son’s claims did not recognize the other’s. Whatever it was, the eldest was the victor and reigned for many years.

But when you were 15, the clonic wars had started and it did not take long before your brother went to fight it—only to get him killed in the process. You thus inherited his crown, and have been the princess since then.

Ten years have passed, but now there’s a growing concern that the royal lineage doesn’t die with you and is interrupted by moving to a distant cousin.

“I’m sorry about that”, Anakin muses. “It’s a lot of pressure to put on you.”

“I’ve been delegating these matters for a while, eventually aware this would come to surface”, you shrug.

“But what are your thoughts about marriage? Have you never fell in love with anybody?”

“I have, but they were not suitable choices”, you tell him rather peacefully. “They live in the past now.”

“But why weren’t they?”

You smile at his curiosity.

“They were not aristocratic enough.”

“Oh”.

“Oh indeed.”

You two share laughters. After that, Anakin felt compelled to talk about his relationship with Padmé in other perspectives. It feels good, he thinks, to speak about the past without feeling the weight of it.

“I hate to break the gossip moment”, says Anakin. “But we arrived.”

“Where are we?”, you inquire, eyeing lots of floresta and great buildings so different of what you are used to.

“Alderaan. The Organas allowed us spending some time here. They are not present at the moment, but left one royal residence for us to stay until the situation in your planet is resolved.”

Anakin notices you are anxious to get yourself comfortable and get to know the new surroundings, already feeling strange by it. Once he lands the ship and helps you out of it, he ensures to make you feel easy about it.

“Everything will be all right, princess. I am not letting you go. Do you trust in me?”

“I do”, you speak confidently, earning him a side smile.

“Good. I like your conviction.”

But before he leads you inside, Anakin feels his hand being pushed. He turns and smiles at you.

“Yes, love?”

“You are staying with me, aren’t you?”

Anakin knows what weights under your words, even if you are not entirely sure about them.

“Yes, darling. I will.”

Saying so, he kisses your forehead.

***

•Your POV.

You are too agitated to fall asleep. These are new chambers that you were allocated to, and as comfortable they are for someone of your rank, they are not yours. The bed and the sheet are different.

You glance up at the white ceiling, thoughts running in the back of your mind. You don’t wish to feel rude or ungrateful, but homesick is a heavy burden that takes your sleep away. Specially when you remember all too well when your brothers fought one another and in short period of time they died, leaving you alone in this world.

You had your ladies, most of whom had served your mother and played a maternal figure to you, but they are gone. You had your political council, but are they trustworthy?

You turn in your bed again and again. Then you decide to see whether Anakin is awake: his bedchamber is close to yours, linked by one door and a small corridor. You tiptoe discreetly, sliding in and ensuring no sound is heard when…

“I know you are there, Y/Nickname”, his voice startles you. “There is no need to be discreet. I’m wide awake.”

As you enter his quarters, you find him dressed in pajamas with a hologram in his hand and a book in another. Upon the look of confusion evident in your face, he explains:

“There was a book left here for my leisure and since I couldn’t sleep, I went for it.”

“What about the hologram in your hands, though?”, you ask, leaning against the wall as your eyes scan him.

Anakin’s hair is growing and there are some curls already dropping in the back of his neck, giving you a sight to behold. His eyes show some tiredness, but you can spot the restlessness too. Yet when he side smiles at you, you are pretty sure your knees go weak.

“My Master called me a few minutes ago and we catched up a little.”

“How’s Ahsoka? Is she the one mentored by you?”

“She is, she is. Now, Y/N. Why are you up, standing there?” Anakin pats a seat next to his side and you easily obey him. “Couldn’t you sleep yourself?”

“No, for some strange reason, I couldn’t”, you say. “There are so many things going in the back of my mind…”

He puts an arm around your shoulders, rubbing your arm gently before saying:

“This will pass. All of this, I’ll be sure of it.”

You side smile at him, avoiding his gaze for unknown motive.

“Yes, but I’m scared of what’s happening after it ends.”

“Look at me, princess”.

He lifts your face, making sure you do as said. When you contemplate those blue eyes staring into your y/c ones, you feel instantly drowned, pulled magnetically towards him. Slowly, you turn all of you to him, so one stays in front of the other.

“I love you. I will not let go of you, regardless of how this ends”, Anakin vows it firmly, sounding more possessive than he likes to admit.

As much as you enjoy it, you cannot deny the facts that you are forced to expose:

“But Ani, I am expected to…”

“To be married to someone of a good rank, I know.” His smile spreads. “I told you, Y/N, I am not letting go of you.”

Your face goes instantly pink at what he’s leaving subtle.

“Ani, you cannot possibly be serious.”

“I am”, he assures you, smiling widely. “I should be more romantic, but current situation prevents me so. On that aspect, Y/N, princess of Y/C, would you accept to be my wife?”

***

• Anakin’s POV.

When the time is due, he awaits at the aisle with Senator Organa by his side. It’s a small, very discreet ceremony with no pomp whatsoever. He is dressing sober robes, heart racing at the thought of seeing you.

No, not only seeing you, but making you his wife. Mrs Skywalker. It has a ring to it, he secretively smiles at himself for it. Indeed it is a ceremony that not even Obi-Wan is aware of—certainly he’d be judged for his bold moves in daring to espouse you, but there is the particular detail about Jedis being forbidden of forming romantic attachments.

Since Padmé, this is a rule that has not been applied to him correctly. But it’s been properly broken when you tamed his heart, when you got all the pieces and joint them together again.

So he waits, anxiously so. The Jedi rewinds in the back of his mind the moment Organa encouraged him to pursue the true delights only a genuine love would provide him after witnessing the way Anakin looked at you.

“We live in days of war, young man. You don’t want to collect any regrets.”

It’s been an incredible journey that got you this far. Who could’ve thought that he’d get married to this one woman whom he once found annoying? A smile curls upon his lips at the memory.

Then his mind goes completely blank when you finally come to his sight, dressed in white with pearls in pink, long veil falling from your head and lightly covering your face. Bail’s wife leads you to him, but from the moment you are there, everyone else is instantly forgotten.

“My love, you look like an angel.” He whispers when greeting you with a soft kiss pressed upon your wrist. “From the moment I saw you, I somehow knew I’d be redeemed from my sins.”

He smiles wide when seeing his words affect you, your eyes going to the hands now interlocked as a blush colors your cheeks.

“Oh Ani, you always succeed in making me speechless.” And when you rise your eyes, Anakin sees nothing but love in them, which makes him beam. “I love you.”

“And I, you.”

As the priest clears his throat, you are reminded that the ceremony awaits to carry on. Anakin smiles and you smile back. But it would take so little time before he is finally able to profess his vows as you do yours, thus making you husband and wife.

*

Finally, there’s this moment where it’s only you and him. No witnesses, no festivities nor concerns. Privacy at last. He comes to you, leading all the way. Suddenly, Anakin senses your unspoken fears. He knows what you are feeling, so carefully he turns at you and says:

"There is no need to be so anxious, darling. I am as yours as you are mine."

Your shoulders instantly relax upon his words, which pleases Anakin. He gently pulls you towards him, charming with his smile that has always melted you.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”, he whispers at you, holding you like he’s conducting in a dance.

“I love you”, you speak with a hint of genuine innocence that warms his heart. “Truthfully I do.”

Anakin knows his heart is completely mended when he says:

“As I love you, dear heart.”

He rests his forehead against yours, arms snaking around your waist. The balance is thus felt…

***

• Your POV.

But blissfulness can only last for a few moments. Your planet has been under attack, and though you are saved, the news leave you greatly distressed. The worst is that there is little you can do. As Obi-Wan himself, your husband’s Master, told you, your life means resistance against the Separatists so you ought to be preserved at every cost.

However, you remain now under the care of Anakin’s apprentice, Ahsoka, specially because he’s been called to war.

The depart is, of course, too painful to endure.

“Don’t leave me alone in this world”, you whisper, not minding Ahsoka’s epic raise of eyebrows at how publicly you display affections to Anakin.

He too cares very little in hiding when news by now have reached Obi-Wan’a knowledge—but he does attempt to keep the Order in ignorance for the sake of Anakin… and you.

“I will not, this I promise you, dear heart.”

That being said, he kisses you.

“Ugh”, you both hear Ahsoka say. “Get yourselves a room.”

*

It is an unending anxious process to wait. Hours never seem to pass, and despite growing very fond to Ahsoka, as pleasant as her company is, your mind never ceases to torment you with possibilities that your husband might not return.

The waiting, however, comes to an end as soon as the door is abruptly opened. To your great joy, and certainly a relief for Ahsoka, Anakin Skywalker comes back to your arms.

***

Epilogue.

When looking at your twins, sleeping soundly as if they are two innocent beings, Anakin, holding you close, speaks:

“I bet the princess is giving me trouble like her mother.”

You giggle sillily, rubbing your nose against his neck.

“Oh, please. When do I ever troubled you?”

Anakin shoots an arrogant, smug look.

“Angel, when haven’t I been worried over you?”

“You fuss too much over me, honey”, you smile back at him.

“Looks like I have three to come…”

“A possible four”, you add mysteriously, making him beam.

“I’ve always wanted a big family”, Anakin admits when carefully holding Leia and you hold Luke. “Thank you, Y/Nickname. You are truly an Angel sent from above.”

You blush deep at how affectionate he sounds. Leaning your head against his shoulder, the scenario couldn’t have been other.

There is peace, you are restored to your crown, the dynasty is going to carry on with your children and your husband is next to you. What’s more, you are beloved and adored by your subjects and the family you’ve always wanted to preserve is growing…

“I love you, Ani. You complete me in every possible way. It is I the one to thank you for bringing the balance to my life.”

One look you exchange together and a kiss comes to seal every unspoken vow. The happily ever after you and Anakin sought is finally here.

[hanasnx]

heyy indyyy

okay so i’m 19 and i work two jobs (one is work study at my college) and i dorm and my parents and my dad’s side of the family is always complaining that i don’t spend enough time with them even though i’m really busy. i literally don’t even spend time with my friends in person anymore cause i’m always working or studying or just exhausted. but i stay with grandma on my mom’s side cause her house is perfect distance from my job and school. so my other side of the family is always calling me a savage or saying that i don’t like them cause i never really see them. but i always try to be there when i can i promise.

so tuesday is my great-grandma’s (dad’s side) birthday and today was her party. my brother (16) texted me asking if i was coming and i told him i didn’t even know about the party. like no one invited me or even told me about it and asked if i could make it. my mom said they didn’t tell me about the party cause she thought i was working so i said i could’ve came after and i even got off early today so i could’ve went and all she said was oh. and my grandma on that side said she tried calling and texting me which isn’t true cause i went back and checked and my dad didn’t try period. so i called my mom upset about it and she said “it isn’t a big deal” and i said “it isn’t now but i know you and my dad are gonna throw it in my face later claiming that i don’t like my family enough to even go to my great-grandma’s birthday party even though no one told me about it”. she ended up calling my dad and he called me and said if you want to come i’ll have your uncle come pick you up now (i don’t have a car yet) and i said okay. and he never even showed up😐

so i’m thinking i should say something but whenever i express how i feel they call me dramatic and my dad lowkey scares me when it comes to stuff like this cause he gets angry quick and doesn’t take like criticism well at all. any advice?? or am i being dramatic and overthinking it??

p.s. SOOO sorry that it’s long. i tried to shorten it as much as possible!! literally no rush at all and you don’t even have to answer.🩷🩷

in my experience anon you gotta be a lot more bullheaded and it won’t solve the problem but people will hesitate to fuck with you in the future which. you’ve been delicate with voicing your concerns, but now it’s time to use some of your anger for justified plowing through the problem. be loud and be blunt about how they fucked up, and that it is a big deal. even if they don’t think it’s a big deal to them, it is to you, and that’s enough. i was constantly dismissed as a child by a man who wanted to erase my feelings bcos it was easier for him, until i told him that it’s a big fucking deal and i’m gonna make it a big deal for him too. and then he didn’t fuck with me again. when people call you dramatic, you gotta own it and keep going headstrong bcos all they want you to do when they call you dramatic is shut up. so don’t shut up

you would’ve liked to be included, and even if it was futile or not, you would’ve liked to be invited to your fam’s thing. that’s a valid thing to want and valid emotions to feel

the method of being bullheaded and blunt will cause an issue with your dad, but that is part of the solution. it will suck, it will be uncomfortable, but you gotta stand up to your dad no matter how angry he gets or how dramatic he calls you. im sorry he scares you, but the first step to realizing he’s not that fucking scary, is to be scary yourself. get into that fight, get into that yelling match, and you’ll see he’s all bark no bite.

that being said. if you’re in an unsafe situation, do not escalate things. physical violence is not worth it.

[alienaiver]

omg omg 88 and osamu … i hope it’s fluffy hes boyfie ok ty ty kiss for u too

HI MY LOVE... I AM.... INCREDIBLY, PAINFULLY SORRY FOR TAKING TWO MONTHS...🫡🫡. i am hiding in my attic after this 🤡 KDJSKDJKSD but ehre we are!!!!!!!!!! 🥺🧡🧡 i hope youll like it <3333333

number 88 gave the sentence “I will never stop fighting for you. I will never stop protecting you.”!!!! isnt that romantic!!

this is some fluffy fluff but its a fantasy/royalty au and an assassin involved, but no gore-y mentions of deaths!!! <33333 it came out as 894 words! thank you for sending one in, i hope you enjoy it!!! :')

The room is dark as you sit by the wooden desk, fiddling with all the items laid out in front of you. This is Osamu’s … lair, you could say – and he’s messy. It’s not so much an office as it’s his living quarters. He’s rarely here anyway, only in-between missions. You learned early that he prefers to sleep in the stables anyway, weapon at the ready.

He’s out right now, on a mission sent by your mother, the queen. There’s been upheaval underneath the finer layer of society, mentions of coup d’états and rotten hate. Threats towards you, the sole heir has even been issued. It brings unease into your heart.

Your mother is not necessarily a popular ruler. She’s headstrong with a heightened moral compass that she isn’t afraid to act on and punish those needed, which, in her defense, has lowered the general crime rate. So, she’s not a bad one either.

But alas, she has also created a divide and unknowingly made an underground mob of criminals.

This is where Miya Osamu comes in. He’s hired as the kingdom’s assassin – and he’s currently also the man who receives your affections.

You met in the Gardens for the first time ten years ago, when he was just a stableboy. He didn’t recognize you nor your title as he approached you without apprehension. It delighted you, seeing how isolating being the royal heir could be.

Originally, he only acknowledged you to apologize for his twin’s behavior. You were surprised, thinking it had been the same boy who’d thrown grass at you for telling him off when he pulled branches off of the tree. You’d sat and talked for an hour after that.

You slump down onto the chair with a sigh. Reminiscing your past with him is not going to bring him back earlier – or any safer.

You pick up the fountain pen and fiddle with it, dipping it in ink. You fold up your sleeve so that you can doodle on your arm. Osamu has tattoos – you’ve always dreamt of matching him.

”Is that considered proper entertainment?”

You yelp out as you drop the pen, spilling ink on the fabric of your garments before it hits the floor, rolling off and disappearing somewhere underneath the desk. You’ll purchase him a new one.

You put your palm to your chest and heave in a grounding sigh as you spot Osamu crouched on the windowsill, looking at you. He seems happy to have managed to scare you but he’s trying to suppress the glee. You shake your head and get up from his chair.

“Welcome back.”

He jumps down easily from the sill with a smile as he unwraps his utility belt to place on the big chest next to the window. You’ve always been curious as to what he’s hiding inside. When he nears you, he gently takes your arm and pulls it towards him. He wants to admire your handiwork it seems. You just hope he doesn’t touch your pulse point directly and feel the velocity in which it is pulsing. You’d surely pass out if he ever called you out so directly.

He whistles as he turns your arm, “this one reminds me of my rose,” he notes and your breath hitches sharply. He looks up at you from underneath his eyelashes, hoping you do not see the blush adorning his cheeks. To his luck, you’re much too focused on the part of your body where you connect at the moment. You’re concerned with the sweat emerging from your palms.

“Your majesty?” he asks and you’re pulled back to the moment. You hum out a reply as you retract your arm, straightening your back.

“I have taken care of the threat.” He says, his voice unusually official near you.

Right, the threat aimed at you. You slump and sigh. “I can feel your unease,” he says, reaching out for your arm again. He hides his hurt well when you pull it behind you, out of reach.

He remembers his place. He’s just your assassin.  

You smile weakly before you raise your gaze again to look at him, “I’m happy to hear so, do not misunderstand,” you also raise your arm again in an effort to mend the hurt he thinks you don’t see, grazing his cheek slightly. He can’t help but lean into your palm for a split second before he collects himself.

“But you are correct. The apprehension will not leave me. This is the third one that you’ve been tasked with. Under the woodworks they will continue to emerge and I…” you trail off and silence grows together with the distance between the two of you. Osamu refuses to let it continue like this; he grabs the arm by his cheek and turns his head slowly. With only a few millimeters of air separating his lips from your skin, he makes an oath, “I will never stop fighting for you. I will never stop protecting you.”

Your breath hitches again but your heart relaxes immediately, knowing that he will always support you, even if it’s from the shadows. Before he pulls away, you push your hand against his lips so that they finally, completely connect. To your delight, he doesn’t hesitate or move away.

Everything will be okay, as long as you have Miya Osamu by your side.

[peanutbutteresque]

salut, bonjour, guten dag, ciao!

get to know me and le château of my mind (っ˘ڡ˘)っ♨

⍣ i never get caffeinated even after drinking two cups of coffee in less than 10 minutes time gap (i feel like i can pull five cups of coffee in a day and still feel nothing, haven’t tried it yet but i’m pretty confident). it is probably because i have been having lattes, not that tiny yet deadly shots of espresso or proper drip coffee. i normally have one instant coffee and low-calorie sweetener dissolve in small amount of hot water, then put some ice cubes, and at last, pour the pricey-but-hard-to-resist oat milk on it cause we need to balance that less than a dollar grinded coffee with a five dollars milk. believe me, this simple recipe creates a decent typa coffee. it does taste so good and addicting but it doesn’t kick in, i need something stronger which means more acidity and bitterness that i don’t think my tummy is ready for a level up yet. i’m saying this all as if i’m in a person who needs a specific dose of caffeine per day to get their busy business life done lol wrong person *cough cough*. but no, i adore coffee and its caffeine on behalf of dopamine and antioxidant. i also do have a very special coffee buddy whom i cherish the most. we have paired our lattes with an interesting range of food, we went from cakes/cookies to instant noodles. we literally have everything with our lattes. i wish we can go out more and do cafes hopping to explore all the coffee recipes that exist. anyway, y’all better drink water more than coffee, we can’t deny the fact that it’s 100000 times healthier and more important than that colored drinks. 

⍣ i am an aries, yup, “the leader” of all the signs, the hard to get, the dominating, the chaser, the independent, mr/ms. confident, the headstrong type of personality, and the list goes on. frankly, i don’t always feel like i own those natures, it feels like i lean more toward the soft and emotional kind of aries. i can be as indecisive as a libra, sometimes confidence doesn’t seem to be my strong suit, i can’t always say what’s on my mind like most of the aries i know seem to be really good at, i tend to put myself on other’s shoes, i think too much than i act, there were numbers of argument i lost because i chose to breakdown and cry rather than defense myself, i can be as gossipy as gemini. just like many aries, i do have a perfection side but it often leads to me being angry and depressed about it. they said, aries is the type of person who is strong and reliable, i might seen as one with my appearance and how i am in my daily life. can’t deny the fact that people see me as a joker, i always make them laugh in any occasion with or without a purpose. i often wonder, am i doing it because they expect me to do so or is there even a possibility that i am a natural joker? hate to break it to you, i don’t think so, it is true that deep down, i am a wreck, i am lost, i am scared, i do not know what to do. the future i once had a clear vision of seems blurry right now. i need someone to wake up the real sleeping aries in me, she must know how to face a situation like this with such grace and poise. anyway, sorry for turning this into a journal but it will eventually just so you know ;)

⍣ let’s get into the real business, i will use this space to post reviews about movies and tv shows (mostly on netflix and disney+) have watched that leave strong impressions on me. it actually will be rewritten from the reviews i have done on my instagram. most of them posted in close friends, and please note that i have a really really small circle, that’s why i’m planning to re-post them on this platform so it will be more accessible. since i am a full-time fangirl, i will also be liking, re-blogging and might be posting everything about my favorite artists, be it holywood peeps, kpop or cpop idols (mostly wang yibo and xiao zhan)!! 

thank you for coming to my ted talk. please check out my blog regularly for the new updates! take care my loves and be happy! see you latte(r)! <3

[ttodorokiii]

How would yanderes TodoBakuDeku (poly or separate, your wish) react to the reader yelling at someone on the phone? Or being really pissed after she got a letter from someone? You can decide what it can be about

reactions | BNHA

note. hey anon!!! sorry for my VERY LATE RESPONSE, but I just wanted to apologise!!! I hope you don’t mind that I did them separately cuz I don’t have much experience on writing poly!!! 💔💕

warnings: YANDERE, OBSESSION, possess*ve themes, strong language, obsessive themes, verbal fighting.

Shouto:

Shouto tries to be rational with you, he knows what he’s done is so wrong in many many levels but he can’t bring himself to regret it. Though when he first saw your anger filled reaction,..

Shouto knew he had to make it up to you. He had kidnapped you for Gods sake. It was a slow process, but he tried his best.

And the first instinct that came to him was to provide you with your phone back. It was the LEAST he was doing after all.

He had ALOT to make up for….

But now, he was starting to strongly regret it.

“HOW FUCKING DARE YOU DO THIS TO ME, KARINA?!? I-I TRUSTED YOU!”

You were angry, that made Shouto concerned for you… you were a very headstrong person, and that made him so obsessed with you in the first place.

But your anger could be fatal.

He needed to handle this ‘Karina’ on his own… you sounded so heartbroken too…

That made him so unbelievably angry. He will ruin them.

Bakugou:

You were such a stubborn person it infuriated him. Katsuki didn’t want you to go to the door and answer it, he was there, he could do it himself.

Maybe you were just looking for an excuse to get away from him, Katsuki bit the inside of his cheek as he watched you close the door, and turn back to him, looking at a letter of some sort.

Oh.

He watched carefully as your grip on the paper tightened, he could see the way your body tensed as you managed to sit down beside him on the couch.

Your stare never left the paper sheet, “what’s wrong?” Bakugou asked in his gruff tone, staring at you a carefully.

Your tone wavered as you responded, breaking his heart. “I-I’m fired Katsuki…. T-They fired me!” You cried.

Katsuki quirked a brow at that,, a small smile on his lips mirrored one of satisfaction. “I CANNOT B-BELIEVE THIS…” anger laced your tone as he quickly masked his satisfaction, with the mask of anger.

“These stupid fucking people!! I-I was doing my job good! H-How can they! I-I will RUIN THEM!”

He barely stuffed his laugh in. “I told you, princess.”

“FUCK OFF KATSUKI I WILL KILL YOU.”

He laughed so loud at that.

“Don’t take out your frustrations on me, now. You had it coming pfttt.”

Izuku:

He was scared.

“I CANNOT BELIEVE THAT PIECE OF SHIT… AGH YOU WERE RIGHT… I-I can’t believe I trusted him!” You were screaming so loud it made his ears vibrate.

You were crying angrily as the words escaped your mouth, izuku could hear the trembling of your lips as he hid under your bed.

Which was stupid, you could catch him anytime. It wasn’t his fault though, he didn’t know you were coming home early.

“I-I WILL CHOP OFF HIS DICK I SWEAR TO DEAR GOD… fucking son of a bitch!” You kept on cussing your cheating (now) ex boyfriend as you sniffled.

A part of him felt so happy but your saddened him to no end. You didn’t deserved that, no one did… but especially you.

Izuku felt his heart churn with pain. “I-I am so angry, Natasha!” Izuku clenched his fist tightly as he felt a rush of rage flow in his vines.

Someone was going to die tonight.

[jiminsbabexxx]

Afraid

Afraid Part 1 

Knock knock, you didn’t know how you ended up at the mansion of the famously well-known Bruce Wayne. It was just after getting into an argument with your mother Selina, and her telling you about how you were the result of a love affair between the both of them. “Hello, can I help you miss?” Alfred asked, you looking up at him through your lashes. “Is Bruce Wayne here?” You asked, Alfred looking down at you. “May I ask who you are?” Alfred asked. “I’m Selina’s daughter.” You said looking down, Alfred giving a look of shock.

 “I see, um come right in.” Alfred said, you following him inside. “You can sit here, I’ll go fetch master Bruce.” Alfred said, you sitting on the very large white couch. “Thanks.” You said, Alfred walking away. Sitting in the very large mansion looking at the pictures on the wall, Alfred interrupting you. “Miss, Mr. Wayne will see you now.” Alfred said, you looking up at him and starting to walk towards the large office. Walking in the large office, Alfred shutting the door behind you. Taking a seat in front of the desk, Bruce turning around looking at you. 

“Y/N, you look just like your mother.” Bruce said, you rolling your eyes at him. “Same attitude as her too.” Bruce said, you and him both chuckling. “So what do you need, some money?” Bruce asked, you looking appalled. “Money, no?” You asked, Bruce looking at you. “Then what do I owe the pleasure after so many years?” Bruce asked. “Do you know who I am?” You asked, Bruce sighing.

 “You are my daughter.” Bruce said. “I mean I can only assume, me and your mother weren’t saints.” Bruce said. “So then why did you leave me?” You asked. “Y/N it wasn’t that simple, your mother took off as soon as I found out she was scared that I would corrupt you put you in danger.” Bruce said. “And I let her leave because it was true, I was not stable enough in my life to be a father.” Bruce said, you cutting him off. “Then what about Damian?” You asked, Bruce looking at you.

 “That was a different situation.” Bruce said. “How so?” you asked. “Me and Talia had a different relationship then me and your mother.” Bruce said, you scoffing. “And it was for the best, looking at you now I can tell you are a lot stronger, smart, and beautiful, if I fought to keep you then I would have never had time love or affection to give I would have been selfish.” Bruce said, you nodding. You knew he was telling the truth, having the father of Batman would have been a really complicated life. “So why are you really here?” Bruce asked, after sitting in silence.

 “Mom uh, kicked me out.” You said sniffing, Bruce nodding. “Can I stay here?” You asked tears in your eyes, waiting for his response. “Absolutely.” Bruce said, you wiping your eyes. “Thank you.” You said crying, Bruce coming from around the desk giving you a hug. “I’m so sorry Y/N.” Bruce said, you crying harder. 

That was over a year ago, now you were living in the home of Bruce Wayne, Nightwing, Tim Drake, Damian, and Alfred. “What are you looking at?” Dick asked, you looking at the spare case with the robin suit in it. “Just wondering why there’s and extra suit here?” You asked, Dick blowing out a sigh. “That was Jason’s.” Dick said, you looking at him confused. “Jason’s?” You asked, confused. “You remember the name Bruce used to call you, when he was frustrated?” Dick asked, you nodding.

 “Yeah.” You said. “Jason was the second robin after me, long story short he ended up dying not to long before you showed up.” Dick said. Not to long after you stayed at the mansion Bruce noticed that you acted a lot like Jason, very headstrong. So after training you Bruce had decided to put a tracker into your arm if heaven forbid something like what happened to Jason happened to you, Bruce could never forgive himself. “Dick are you ready?” Bruce asked, you both turning to look at him. “Ready, what for?” Dick asked. “There’s an issue with scarecrow.” Bruce said.

 “Scarecrow, what about him?” Dick asked. “He seems to be working with an unknown militia, and is threating to gas the whole city.” Bruce said. “And you need me as backup.” Dick said, you looking up at him. “No, I need you to focus on penguin and his backup.” Bruce said. “So you need me as backup?” You asked, stepping forward. “No.” Bruce said, you looking shocked.

 “What, why not?!” You asked, Bruce sighing. “Y/N you know I care about you so much, and this is too dangerous I can’t have you involved.” Bruce said, you getting frustrated. “But I can do this Bruce I’ve been working so hard for this, I promise I won’t get hurt.” You said. “Unfortunately Y/N it’s not up to you, anything can happen to you out there.” Bruce said. “But.” You said, being cut off by Dick. “Y/N come on he’s made his decision you know he’s not going to change it.” Dick said, Tim following behind Dick.

 “You wouldn’t understand Dick, he doesn’t coddle you.” You said, Bruce getting into the Batmobile. “Y/N come on this is for the best if something were to happen to you it might be Bruce’s last straw, hey I’ll see you later okay.” Dick said, giving you a hug and a kiss on the forehead. “Guess I don’t really have a choice.” You said. “Bye Y/N!” Tim yelled, leaving with Dick. 

Song~ Afraid by The Neighborhood 

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Family Ties // Benedict Bridgerton

Request: hey lovie!! i wanna start by saying i adore your writing for bridgerton and harry potter and i always find myself coming back to it,, if you’re up for it, would you mind writing a benedict imagine? i was thinking something sweet and domestic?? like maybe him and the reader have kids and they’re going to visit the rest of the family? take it however you want!! <3 - @ddaeng-danvers​

A/N: Thank you so much!! I truly hope you like this. This is the first thing I've written in close to a month now and I love how happy it is. There’s love, and family, and fluff. I am so happy with it. This features characters seen in the prequel books ‘The Rokesby’s’ - I finished reading book 2 today and I think I'm going to own all of Quinn’s books by the time we reach summer.

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: children, marriage, fluff, female reader, she/her pronouns, bridgertons being bridgertons, family fluff, love, romance, kissing, cute, mentions of pregnancy. SPOILERS FOR THE PREQUEL SERIES BUT I CANT BE SORRY, I LOVE GEORGE TOO MUCH.

Word count: 3.3k

Giggles and gasps lighten the morning air as you take those first steps outside. The grass is still wet with morning dew and it dampens the hem of your dress, but you cannot bring yourself to care as the laughter of your children surrounds you.

“You can’t catch me!” Your daughter declares, laughing loudly as her steps quicken on the slick grass.

A quiet smile crosses your face as you watch the scene unfold in front of you.

Your daughter, Violet, continues to laugh wildly as Benedict grabs her from behind, lifting her onto his shoulders. She settles there quickly; having spent a lot of time on Benedict’s shoulders when her little legs wore themselves out from running and exploring.

“My love,” Benedict greets, smiling widely at you, “Did you sleep well?”

“I did until I realised I was alone.”

Benedict casts his eyes upwards, gesturing to the four year old currently busying herself with trying to tidy the permanently messy locks of her father. “Someone,” Benedict emphasises with another glance upwards, “Woke up too early and I didn’t want to wake you.”

Your body warms at the obvious love in Benedict’s voice – for you, for his daughter. Close to a decade being married and he has every capacity to reduce you to a lovestruck fool. It’s perfect, really.

Chuckling, you gaze lovingly at your daughter. “Did you wake your father up?”

She nods; not an ounce of apology on her small face as she continues to mess up Benedict’s hair. “I couldn’t sleep anymore,” she defends, “I’m excited to see Grandma Violet.”

“I’m sure she’s excited to see you too,” Benedict comments, reaching for his pocket watch to check the time. “We’ll have to be setting off soon. Are we all packed?”

You nod, meeting the loving eyes of your husband. “The footmen have everything covered. Where is John?”

Benedict gestures to the overgrowth behind him. “He joined us when Violet wouldn’t keep quiet. He shouldn’t be too far behind.”

“I’ll go in search. Get Violet ready for me?”

Benedict nods, smiling down at you before dropping the first kiss of many to your lips. You watch the pair leave; Violet chattering away about the birds singing in the trees before heading off in search for your eldest child.

“John Edmund Bridgerton,” you call out, voice loud in the quiet garden, “Where have you gotten to?”

“I’m over here,” John calls; his dark brown curls popping up between the rose bushes.

“Shall we head inside? We need to get ready to make the journey to London.”

John smiles, making his way to your side. “You look more like your father every day,” You comment absentmindedly, running a hand through your son’s hair.

John flushes at the compliment; his father was an exceptionally strong man as well as incredibly talented in whatever he pursues. “Thank you,” John replies, reaching for your hand to begin the walk back to your home.

---------

Bridgerton House had always grown violet hyacinths; they perfumed the air, making every inhale sweeter than the last. The door to the Bridgerton London home is opened before you get chance to place your feet on the ground after stepping down from the carriage.

Benedict steadies you as you straighten your skirts whilst trying to keep an eye on your children, making sure they hadn’t fallen out of the carriage. The laughter of your children floating on air has the tightness in your chest relaxing.

You take a moment to stand beside your husband, enjoying the feel of his hands on your waist. It had been so long since a moment alone had been found between the two of you; one of you running after Violet before she scared off another governess. Her stubbornness was to be admired, but it made it hard to teach her the basics in terms of literacy.

“Are you alright?” Benedict asks, noticing your hesitancy.

You smile widely at the love of your life. “I’m fine, my love. I just wanted to be close to you.”

Benedict’s face softens at your confession; he would be the first to admit that he found himself missing you even when he was sat next to you. There were no problems in your marriage but being so busy meant that there was little time for the two of you.

Benedict takes your hand; dropping a kiss to the back of it before turning it over and placing a lingering kiss to your wrist, over your pulse point. You gasp at the intimacy of it, your toes curling at the promise in his eyes.

“Mama!” Violet cries, taking your hand and dragging you through the house in the direction of the portrait gallery with all her might.

You chuckle, turning to Benedict with a helpless look on your face. He holds his hands up, letting you take the lead with your headstrong daughter. “I shall announce our arrival,” Benedict laughs, blue eyes focused on the way his daughter’s slippers slip and slide on the marble tiles of the entrance hall. “John,” He calls, “Would you like to join me?”

Imperceptibly, John takes a step in your direction. An incredibly smart but shy boy from birth, you sometimes worried over his place in the loud, boisterous family of the Bridgertons. “If it’s okay, I want to see where mother and Violet are going.”

“Of course,” Benedict smiles, ruffling John’s hair, knowing how he needed to get used to a new environment before feeling comfortable.

Benedict presses a kiss to your mouth and then to your cheek before taking the steps two at a time to hurry to the drawing room where he can greet his mother and siblings before answering their questions about your whereabouts.

Letting yourself be led through the ornate home of Violet Bridgerton, you can’t help but smile at the determinedness of your daughter. Her little feet stomping away on the marble tiles as she pulls you to the portrait gallery – her favourite place in the whole house bar her grandmother’s knee.

The gallery hasn’t had a new addition to its walls in years; the last painting being of Anthony and Kate on their fifth anniversary. Violet saw it as fitting that their London home had an up to date portrait of Viscount and Viscountess Bridgerton. Anthony had argued, but one look from his mother had him falling silent – knowing a losing battle when he sees one.

Generations of Bridgertons line the walls; their famous blue eyes watching the latest generation walk the halls of their once home. John remains silent by your side as he meets the gaze of the men of which his name is descended; if he feels their pressure at such a young age, he doesn’t say.

One painting catches your eye. A young woman and her husband; his hand is resting on her shoulder as she remains seated. They both stare out of the painting; their eyes filled with the stories of generations passed but utterly silent on the matter.

“Who is this?” Violet asks, effectively distracted by the bright colours of the painting.

“That’s your Great Aunt Billie and her husband,” You comment absently, mind occupied with Billie Bridgerton’s eyes.

“Have we met her?” John asks, hand reaching for yours.

“You have, John. She and the Rokesby clan came to your christening. I doubt you remember, you were so young, my darling.”

John flushes at your use of his childhood pet name. Not even ten years old and he was already growing too old for such things, but you didn’t care – he would always be your darling, your first born, the very boy that made you a mother.

“Where are they now?”

“I suppose they are still at Crake House in Kent. We should have to pay them a visit the next time we visit your Uncle Anthony.”

“Can we?” Violet asks, her Bridgerton blue eyes wide with promise and excitement.

“If your father allows it, I see no problem with it.”

The children seem placated at that. With their hands in yours, you make your way to the drawing room where the rest of the family have gathered. Benedict spies you immediately despite being deep in conversation with Colin and Hyacinth; his body and soul finetuned to your presence – feeling uplifted when you’re beside him, feeling as if he was missing a vital part of himself in your absence.

“Grandma Violet!” Your youngest child cries, launching herself for the skirts of the Bridgerton matriarch. Her small arms barely make their way around the legs of the elderly woman who cannot contain her amused giggle at the exploits of her granddaughter. Instead, she gathers young Violet in her arms, placing her on her knee to get a better look at her.

“You have grown,” The matriarch murmurs, brushing back the dark brown hair of her granddaughter.

“John!” Anthony calls, drawing the attention of his nephew. Releasing your hand, John crosses the room to talk to his beloved uncle; the topic of conversation, you know not but they both look incredibly animated and devoted to the matter.

“Where were you?” A low voice sounds in your ears, making you jump. The voice turns amused as a low chortle escapes your husband’s mouth. “I’m sorry, my love,” he offers in apology as an arm wraps itself around your waist, tugging you closer to him.

“If you must know, we were in the portrait gallery.”

“What drew you there?”

“Your daughter,” You comment, tone amused.

Benedict moves to inquire further but is cut off but the gong signalling that dinner has been served. At once, the family moves as one – all ravenous and desperate to begin their meal.

“(Y/N)!” Colin calls out, catching up to you on the way to the dining room.

“Colin,” You greet fondly, “How is married life?”

“Wonderful,” Colin sighs, “Penelope is… Penelope is wonderful.”

You laugh, elbowing the third eldest Bridgerton. “Surely, you remember the early days of your marriage,” Colin states, “The honeymoon period.”

“It doesn’t leave you,” You reply, catching sight of the love of your life just ahead of you. His head is bent as he reaches for the hand of your daughter; her whole hand wrapped around one of his fingers. It sends your heart into a tizzy as you inhale sharply; the love you feel for Benedict Bridgerton could rival the love of Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy, of the sonnets written by William Shakespeare himself.

“No,” Colin comments, glancing between you and Benedict, “I don’t suppose it does.”

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

Dinner with a large Bridgerton crowd was never a quiet feat; conversations flowed in every direction. Societal propriety non-existent as everyone spoke over each other; happy to have the company of their siblings, nieces and nephews, sons and daughters.

“Anthony,” You begin, reaching for your glass as you draw the attention of the head of the family, “When would you next be at Aubrey Hall?”

“Kate, the children, and I travel back in two days. Why?”

“We were in the portrait gallery earlier. Violet was rather taken with a portrait of Billie Bridgerton and her husband, George. If Benedict has no qualms, could we travel with you? I think Violet would like to meet them.”

Anthony beams; rather liking the idea of bringing the Rokesby’s back into their lives once more. “I must admit that I haven’t travelled to Crake House in a long time. What a terrible nephew I must seem.”

Violet frowns, picking at the food on her plate. “What a terrible sister-in-law, I must be. It must be close to a year, probably longer since I’ve seen Billie and George. Longer since I’ve seen Edward and Cecilia.”

“That does it,” Anthony declares, “We shall all travel to Aubrey Hall before dropping in on Crake House.”

Meeting Benedict’s eyes across the table you smile at the clear affection written on his face. “You have no objections do you, my love?”

He shakes his head. “Never, my love.”

Turning your attention to Anthony, you nod your affirmation. “Should we write in advance of leaving here?”

Anthony wipes his mouth with his napkin. “I’ll send a missive with the morning messenger; if I tip generously then there shouldn’t be an issue.”

“I’m sure they won’t mind,” Violet adds absently, “I just can’t believe I’ve left it this long. I’m so rarely in Kent and they never journey to London.”

Colin reaches to his right, placing his hand on top of his mother’s. “They will more than understand. Aunt Billie was father’s sister after all. I think even Aunt Billie finds it hard to return to Aubrey Hall.”

“Then it’s decided,” Benedict smiles, “We shall journey to Aubrey Hall and get settled there before descending on Crake House.”

“Do you think Gregory would like to join us?” You ask, thinking of your youngest brother-in-law.

“He’s in his final term at Oxford,” Colin replies, “He’s sitting all number of exams right now, I don’t think he’ll have the time.”

“A shame,” Anthony comments, thinking of his youngest brother and the stress he must be under, “But I’m sure he can complete the journey in the summer.”

“He always was Aunt Billie’s favourite,” Benedict states darkly. You raise your eyebrows at your husband in question. “Gregory struggled with the pronunciation of some plants when he was a child; Aunt Billie thought it was adorable,” He explains, sounding far off as if trapped in a memory of his youth.

Smiling widely at your husband’s tone, you coo, “I’m sure Violet will be her new favourite when we explain what inspired our visit.”

Dismissing all social expectations, Benedict rounds the table, reaching for your hand, pressing a long kiss to the back of it before stating loudly. “You, my love, are a genius.”

“It has been said before,” You laugh, watching your husband return to his seat with promises of the night alight in his eyes. His eyes remain bright as he gazes at you over the rim of his wine glass, no longer paying attention to the conversation pertaining to the history of the Bridgertons and Rokesbys. Instead, his gaze remains fixed on you as he thinks of all the good you have brought to his life – loving him, marrying him, bearing his children. His love for you is endless, and he’ll spend the rest of his life proving that to you.

--------

Crake House was just as grand as Aubrey Hall. The Rokesby’s gaining the favour of the monarch in the seventeenth century leading to an earldom and a rather large estate that bordered on the Bridgerton’s at Aubrey Hall. From then, the two families had been intertwined – as close as two families could get.

“It’s very big,” John comments quietly to Benedict as they leave the carriage.

“Don’t let that intimidate you, John,” Benedict says, “There’s nothing to be worried about.”

As Benedict finishes his sentence, the door to Crake House is pulled open by a strong hand. Deep blue skirts are the first thing you see, and you know that Billie Rokesby nee Bridgerton has arrived.

“Bridgertons!” A feminine voice cries, “I have Bridgertons on my doorstep once more!”

“Billie,” Violet sighs, a fond smile on her face as if the sound of her sister-in-law’s voice has transported her back to times long thought of as memories.

“Anthony Bridgerton,” Billie admonishes as she hurries down the stairs, her elderly frame not a hindrance to her speed whatsoever. “How long have you taken residence in Aubrey Hall? How long has it been since you came to see me?”

“Aunt Billie,” Anthony murmurs, “I don’t suppose you could ever forgive me.”

Billie Rokesby nee Bridgerton eyes her nephew; looking him up and down before taking his face in her strong hands. “Are you well, my boy?”

For a moment, tears shine in Anthony’s eyes as he is reminded of his departed father. He nods wordlessly; trying to get a grip on the feelings rushing through him at the love that emanates from Billie. “I’m well, Aunt Billie.”

Billie nods, stepping back, clearly happy at the information offered by Anthony. She casts her shrewd gaze over her brother’s family; happiness alight in her eyes as she takes sight of your daughter, hiding behind your skirts.

“Who do we have here?” She asks, stepping closer to Benedict and yourself.

“You met John when he was just a babe in arms, but Violet is our youngest,” Benedict introduces, an arm wrapped loosely around your waist.

“Violet?” Billie gasps, dipping at the waist, “Violet Bridgerton, it is an honour to meet you.”

Violet giggles from where she has her face hidden in your legs. You reach down, tapping her on the shoulder. “Come now, sweetheart. Let’s say hello.”

Violet peeks her face out of your skirts, her blue eyes meeting the kind, aged ones of Billie. Violet curtsies, remembering her manners despite her age. “I saw your painting at Grandma’s house.”

“Which one?” Billie asks gently, eyes flickering to the Bridgerton matriarch. “Please tell me it wasn’t the one that Edmund commissioned as an anniversary gift for George and myself.”

Violet Bridgerton covers her mouth to stem the laughter that threatens to bubble over. “The very same.”

Billie huffs, turning to you, “I was six months pregnant, and Edmund thought I would want nothing more than to sit for a whole day with nothing to keep me company.”

“I think you look wonderful,” Your daughter compliments, tripping up on her pronunciation of ‘wonderful’.

Billie’s eyes shine with happiness, “Thank you, my dear.”

“I think our guests might like some tea,” An exasperated but fond voice calls from the doorway. Billie’s face softens at the sound of it; she turns to her husband, finding him watching her with a loving smile on his face.

“They aren’t guests, George. They are my family, and by marriage, your family.”

“All the same, I’m sure they would like something to drink and to rest a little.”

Billie pouts, knowing a losing fight when she saw one. You take in the sight of the pair; their hair had greyed over time, their face becoming wrinkled but their love – it was so palpable, it could be felt in every aspect of their conversation and every expression they sent each other.

Billie and George manage to wrangle the whole Bridgerton clan into their drawing room with promises of food, tea and stories of their mother’s youth. Violet pales at such a promise but Billie’s hand on her arm steadies her.

Your children, John and Violet, join their many cousins on the carpet. They all sit cross legged, eyes intently focused on the elderly couple sitting on the pale green couch. Billie gestures animatedly as she begins one of her many adventurous stories. George leans further back into the cushions, happy to let his wife regale his extended family with the very story of how they had fallen in love. A story told many times, but a story he would never tire of hearing, especially not from his beloved wife’s lips.

You watch all of this from where you sit, perched on the window seat. You smile at the sight of Anthony, Colin and Hyacinth watching Billie with nothing short of wonder written on their faces as they are reminded of the aunt that had explained the way of the land before they had truly understood what it meant to be part of a family with such a large responsibility.

Benedict joins you on the window seat, crossing his legs at the ankles as his heart sings at the sound of his children’s laughter. Silently, he reaches over to take your hand in his. He rests your tangled hands on his thigh; needing you close for a reason he cannot seem to find the words to explain.

“I love you,” You whisper, needing him to hear the words that have begged to be released since you had rolled up to Crake House.

“I love you too,” Benedict responds, his hand tightening around yours.

*********

Bridgerton taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore @dreaming-about-fanfictions @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown @janelongxox @aspiringsloth20 @wallwriterstuff @magicalxdaydream @darkestbeforethedawn16 @gryffindors-weasley​

[giggles-and-freckles]

bed bargain for satine and obi-wan maybe?? 😍

bed bargain: [Obi-Wan] won’t stay in bed. [Satine] convinces them. (from these prompts)

Obi-Wan groans from his desk as knuckles rap against the other side of the door. It’s Anakin, no doubt, come to question him on the events of the day. There’s no confusion on exactly what Anakin will be wanting to know.

Girlfriend. A ridiculous accusation and just something to get under Obi-Wan’s skin. The trouble is Anakin’s always been far too good at that and Obi-Wan let it get to him today. 

He’s in severe need of a break. But Death Watch seems to be a larger issue than the Council had thought and he’s determined to get to the bottom of it.

The knocking continues.

He sighs deeply and pushes away from the desk. As he stands, there’s a rush of hot fuzziness that fills the space behind his eyes. But he blinks and it’s gone. Yet another side effect of the long day, apparently. To accompany the dizziness that has developed in the past hour.

The knocking is louder. More hurried.

Definitely Anakin.

“I’m coming!” he yells, making his way to the door. “Honestly, all these years and you have learned nothing of patience—“

He stops as the door slides open. 

“You would be amazed at the patience I have developed, actually.”

“Duchess,” he says stiffly.

Her lips twitch into a frown, but flatten back out into a thin line. “Hello.”

“It’s late.”

“Yet you are still awake.”

He casts a quick glance behind him, but the movement is too quick. The room spins and his hand reaches out, blindly. He finds the edge of the door and grips it.

“I’ve been busy,” he says, turning back around to find that her eyes are fixed on his hand, clinging to the door.

She looks back up. “I assumed as much. Before tomorrow, when the Republic will undoubtedly take your words and twist them until I am the villain they are apparently so desperate for,” – she ignores his scoff – “I wanted us to try and get on the same page.”

“We have never quite managed to achieve that, my dear,” he says.

Her frown deepens as she studies him. “Not for lack of trying.”

He clears his throat. “Is this something we could discuss in the morning? I still have–”

“No,” she says, and pushes past him into the room. “Now is good.”

“For you,” he grumbles, but allows the door to slide closed. He turns and follows her in the room. She sits on the sofa easily, as if this is the most normal thing. “I didn’t have the opportunity to thank you for the luxurious accommodations. Anakin hasn’t stopped talking about–”

“He’s not what I expected.”

Obi-Wan blinks. He wants to sit, but can’t bring himself to join her on the couch. So he hovers. “Pardon?”

“Your student. He idolises you, clearly. When you used to call and tell me of him–”

“That was a very long time ago,” he says quickly. 

“Yes,” she agrees quietly. Her eyes move to the floor between them. “It was.”

His visions swims and he can’t determine whether it’s exhaustion or a response to the lowness of her tone. The unopened nook of hurt and betrayal that she clearly feels, though he can’t understand why.

But then–that’s not true either. It’s just what he’s told himself for the past ten years, to avoid the habitual pain he was putting himself through for so long. Constantly comming her–and thinking about her in the meantime. Something had to give if he was to honour his commitment to the Jedi and his commitment to Anakin.

He drops to the couch next to her. “I was lost.”

“I know,” she says softly. “But you also didn’t want to be found.”

“I needed to…” he frowns, looking for the words. It’s painful revisiting this part of his life, immediately after Qui-Gon’s death, when everything was overwhelming and nothing felt right. “Needed to figure it out.”

“No,” she says, but there’s no chastisement in her voice. “Not by yourself.”

“Yes,” he insists. “I–”

“My dear Obi-Wan,” she says. Fixes him with those eyes that have seen too much of the galaxy and too much of him. There’s too much compassion that he doesn’t feel particularly deserving of. “Accepting help is not a crime.”

He shuts his eyes, but it does nothing to stop the pounding in his head or the pain in his chest. 

“Obi-Wan?” she says, her tone sharper than it was before. Then– “Obi-Wan!”

“I’m all right,” he manages, opening his eyes as the wave of nausea passes. He pulls a weak smile. “Sorry. I just–”

She fixes him with a hard stare. “You’re ill.”

“I’m not ill,” he scoffs.

She lifts her hand and rests it on his forehead. Doesn’t let him pull away. “Stubborn as always.”

Since she’s not letting him move away, he figures there’s no real harm in leaning into her a bit. “You have no experience with that.”

Satine laughs loudly and lets her hand fall to his cheek. They watch each other for a moment and Obi-Wan wonders if she sees the wayward young padawan the way he sees the headstrong young duchess. So much has changed, in the galaxy and between them, but beyond the light wrinkles (which he’d never point out, obviously) and thinner face, it’s the same eyes blinking back at him. He’s thankful for something consistent.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, “for not holding it against me.”

“You’ll have to be more specific,” she hums. Her hand falls to the place on the couch between them. She moves it so that it rests over his.

He rolls his eyes at her snark, but turns his hand over under hers. Links their fingers together. “When Qui-Gon died. You were so…” A deep sigh. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

“I didn’t do anything, my dear. You–”

“Exactly. You just listened. Let me talk, grieve, process,” he says. “I needed that. Even though I left...you never…”

She squeezes his hand. “There was never a question of you leaving. I knew it was coming–and I wasn’t angry. You had to return to the Jedi. I...I had a system to lead.”

“But even so. When I sought your help–”

“I’ll always be there for you, my dear.”

His gut twists over. “I don’t deserve that.”

“You’re right,” she says, nodding. Then, lifts their interlinked hands up and drops the lightest of kisses on the back of his palm. “You deserve so much more. More than this harsh galaxy will ever be able to repay you, I fear.”

“With Anakin. And...everything. I was overwhelmed. I was...I didn’t know what I was doing. I’m sorry. I...I didn’t mean to lose you, too.”

She smiles at him. “You didn’t.” Kisses his hand again. “And you never will.” She stands from the couch, then, pulling him up along with her. The motion jars him, and he has to grip her shoulder to stay upright. She looks him up and down with a frown. “I believe it’s time for bed for you, darling.”

He pulls away as well as he can. Grounds his feet and takes a breath. “No. I have to finish–”

“Obi-Wan,” she says firmly. “Bed.”

“I have work to do. Death Watch. They...I need to keep you safe. Need to–”

“As the ruler of this world, I order you to go to bed.”

Obi-Wan’s mouth opens, then closes. “You can’t,” – he frowns at the floor for a moment, then smiles victoriously – “I have diplomatic immunity!”

“This isn’t the Republic,” she reminds him. “And if you remember–I’m particularly stubborn.” She begins to guide him toward the bed, even as he struggles against her. “Oh, honestly, Obi-Wan. Stop being such a child.”

“Stop treating me like one!” he cries, then stops walking abruptly as the room begins to spin again. He presses the palms of his hands into his eyes and takes a shuddery breath. This bout of dizziness lasts longer than the ones before and it takes him an extra moment to gather himself.

A light hand is at his back immediately, rubbing small circles. For some reason, the motion cracks his resolve.

“I can’t sleep,” he says, scared of how broken he sounds. “When I do...it’s just nightmares. Images, memories–”

“I’ll stay,” she says, and wraps an arm around his waist.

“That’s highly inappropriate,” he says immediately in response because it’s what he’s supposed to say. And Obi-Wan Kenobi has grown very good at saying what he’s supposed to say. If the Council were to catch wind of this. A Jedi Master sharing a bed with a Duchess–

She lifts an eyebrow and his face reddens. Because he knows she’s remembering what he’s remembering. How unconcerned he was with what was appropriate once upon a time. He’s lost the padawan braid since then, though, and she’s gained a system of planets. It’s not the same.

“I’ll only stay until you fall asleep,” she says, saving him from further embarrassment. 

Obi-Wan can’t bring himself to admit his disappointment, so he just nods, and sheds his outer robe. She watches as he kicks off his boots and sets them in the corner of the room. Watches as he unties his belt and drapes it over a chair. When he finally makes his way toward the bed, she is waiting for him, standing with her arms crossed and a patient expression.

“Are you quite done?” she says, and her lips quirk up at the corners.

He doesn’t respond. Only rolls his eyes and slides beneath the sheets. She pulls back the other side in a much more graceful manner, making sure her long dress doesn’t get wrapped around her. She’s always had such a talent for making the mundane look like a dance. He tries not to stare; it’s hard.

There is at least a foot of space between them in the bed and neither makes a move to close it. 

“You didn’t use to sleep with so many clothes on,” she says after a moment of silence.

“Neither did you.”

She makes a sound of indignation, then sighs. “Touché.”

He chuckles and reaches for her hand, under the sheets. She flinches when he first grabs it and he wonders if this is too much. Physical contact within the confines of a bed. He moves to pull back, but her grip is vice-like. She doesn’t turn her head to look at him, but he’s glad. He’s still having a hard time not staring.

“Thank you,” he says finally. 

…

When the sunlight filters through the curtains he never drew closed and wakes him up the next morning, she’s still there.

[firelxdykatara]

You’re doing a LoK rewrite, correct? Would be really interested in hearing how you plan on fixing Suyin’s character and the Lin-Suyin conflict because……. oh boy. Man there’s a lot to unpack there. This is what happens when we don’t let Toph just raise her fucking kids for the sake of pushing a stupid as hell narrative about working women and single motherhood.

I am indeed!

In... you know, the way I'm doing most of my big potential projects, in that I have a folder with some documents that have plot notes and... some day I may actually get full, finished fics out of them (h2o AU is in there, as is my voltron!atla fusion AU, and uhhhh my book 3 atla rewrite, and a few other things), so... but I will say that the docs I have for my LoK rewrite so far amount to roughly 4.2k words of just Plot and Character Notes, which may some day turn into words of Story, hopefully.

ANYWAY, POINT IS: yes, this exists, and I have Many Many Thoughts.

Including how the Gaang kids would shake out! Cause I know I'm doing Zutara, and maybe Tokka???? Although I don't wanna just leave Suki out either... maybe a throuple??? Or Sukka having an amicable breakup before Sokka and Toph get together--maybe she already has Lin by then, and Sokka helps support her through the grief of losing Kanto???? Idk honestly, I haven't actually figured any of that out definitively yet except that Aang was perfectly happy to settle down with an Air Acolyte from one of the rebuilt temples because he grew up and out of his crush on Katara pretty easily once he hit puberty and matured a bit.

UHHH none of which is actually an answer to your question, because it's a valid one! Which is why I've been sitting on this a while (10 days I'm so sorry) bc I haven't made any solid decisions but I've been letting it percolate around my head a bit. And the more I think about it, the more I really like the Sukka -> Tokka idea (and I don't want to kill off Suki since the kids all deserve their awesome Kyoshi warrior auntie in their lives, and also I want a Sukka kid to be besties with Iara [zuko and katara's youngest] so maybe she gets with someone else after she and Sokka split? I could be talked into Ty Lee/Suki actually, the more I think about it....), but obviously having a stable father figure and a Toph who is... not what LoK made her out to be will dramatically change the Beifong family dynamic.

That said, I think I actually have a solution. (I'm so sorry for what I'm about to do.) Toph has Lin with Kanto--and he passes away when Lin is two or three, which is why she has very few memories of her father. (Although none of this 'she doesn't even know his name until she's 50+ cause Toph didn't tell her daughters about their fathers' bullshit.) Sokka is there for her through it all (all of the gaang is, of course, but you know that it sometimes just hits different when it's someone you're also starting to fall in love with, especially when there are older and much more deeply buried feelings there that are now resurfacing, because at least in my version Toph was deeply in love with Sokka when they were teenagers, but he was in love with Suki and she also loved Suki so she didn't want to mess up anything about their family or the group dynamics by making her feelings anyone else's problem), they fall in love, get married and have Suyin.

(Sokka may jokingly refer to it as a shotgun wedding, but the truth is he wanted to propose well before he found out she was pregnant, his attempts just kept getting messed up in increasingly comedic fashion.)

Throughout all of this, Republic City has been established, Sokka is Chancellor, Toph is something of a defacto police chief--mostly because, at the time, no one else was willing to volunteer, and she jokingly offered to whip the law enforcement, but unfortunately everyone else at the meeting took her seriously. However, she is also the founder of the probending league, and basically her feelings about law enforcement are complicated and she actively discouraged her kids from joining the force which is part of why Lin did. How else do you have a teen rebel phase with a parent like Toph? (Which, in this instance, means tough and firm but fair, with a 'you break it, it's up to you to fix it' attitude and very little desire to actually control her daughters and their behavior.)

Ah, but here's the rub.

Suyin is ten years old when Sokka dies, and Lin is sixteen. I'm not sure how he's killed--maybe by Yakone, to tie it into my plans for Amon and book 1. (Note that I'm not sure when the Yakone bloodbending trial happened in canon, but it doesn't matter. The timeline I'm gonna build will be completely different post-comet, and I'll eventually write it all down so that I can keep things straight.) Which would incidentally provide excellent means of having Katara have a very personal stake in the Amon conflict, and perhaps color the fight between him and Iara, but I'm getting off track. And I think Sokka being killed by Yakone, and Toph being unable to protect or save him, or deliver her own brand of justice to avenge him (because Aang is there to stop her and.... shit probably got ugly, I suspect she didn't talk to Aang for at least twenty years after Sokka's death--and this isn't to say I think Toph is particularly violent or murderous, but in that moment, she absolutely wanted to kill the man with her bare hands, and however much she may have regretted it afterwards, she took a very long time to forgive Aang for stopping her in the first place), is what results in Toph stepping down as police chief.

She didn't withdraw from her daughters or fuck off into the swamp or anything (words cannot express how much I hate that part of her canon history), but she did grieve for a very long time. Lin, meanwhile, felt like it was up to her to keep her family together, while also feeling a desperate need to... prove herself, I think. And because her mother was so adamant that she not join the police force, that's exactly what she does. I think Lin completely misread Toph's intentions, too, and believed that the discouragement was because her mother didn't think she had what it takes, when in reality I think Toph was scared of Lin losing herself in the job like she herself had begun to, and eventually coming up on something she couldn't change or fix and making the same mistakes she had.

(I think Toph and Lin have communication issues largely because they are both headstrong and willful, but where Toph thought she was giving her daughters the room they would need to make their own way, what Lin desperately craved was direction and she felt like that was something her mother simply couldn't understand.)

Suyin, on the other hand, fell in with a bad crowd like in canon. I think that what she desperately needed was attention, similar to Lin craving direction, and Toph was trying so hard not to be her own parents that she went a little too far in the other direction and Suyin began to feel like it didn't matter what she did, her mom wouldn't care, or get angry, or discipline her, or anything. Lin and Suyin butted heads a lot growing up, too, especially after Sokka's death, because Lin tried to rein in her sister's behavior and this was met with resistance and derision because Suyin felt like Lin was trying to be both mom and dad and she was neither but her big sister would never admit to being just as lost as she was and it made her furious.

So when Suyin is sixteen, and Lin is twenty-two and new to the force, The Big Rift happens. Lin catches Suyin and her gang, tries to apprehend her, gets a scar on her face in the ensuing conflict. But instead of abusing her power and sending her problem child off to her mother before fucking off to the swamp to avoid the consequences of her actions, Toph tries to actually fix things. Suyin cools her heels in prison for a while, because she was paralyzed by guilt at the time when she hurt her sister (a few inches lower and she could have slit her throat), and was still there when Lin's backup arrived.

Uhhhhhhhhhhh..... I'm so sorry I rambled for so long, BUT THE UPSHOT IS: I think Suyin learned a bit about culpability and taking responsibility for her own actions, Toph realized that her daughters had different needs than she did at their age (and I think a lot of the problem was that grief clouded her own ability to connect with her daughters, and in trying to not be her own parents she lost sight of how to be the parent her own daughters needed), and Lin, I think, had to realize that she had never fully processed the loss of not one but two fathers and had turned to her job in order to avoid actually confronting the grief that had overshadowed her childhood.

However, she did not forgive Suyin, at least not right away--and she wasn't forced or expected to. Suyin understood that she crossed a serious line, she took her lumps and did her time, and no one shamed Lin for her anger. I think, as a result, she had less reason to hold onto that bitterness, and perhaps by the time the story actually begins, she and Suyin are on much better terms, though I haven't worked it out exactly yet.

UHHH yeah I went on for days lmao. All of this is subject to change, too, depending on the needs of the story whenever I get around to actually writing it all down, BUT these are my initial thoughts, at least.

[xenospacebabe]

Broken Wings pt. 3

Summary: After breaking one of his wings, Hawks breaks into an animal clinic for some help. Little does he know that the doctor there would occupy his mind this much

TW: Mentions of animal death.

Another busy week that seemed to endlessly drag on was coming to a close. There was a spike in Parvovirus cases in the last few days that had you hospitalizing as well as euthanizing beloved pets. You loved your job, but sometimes it really took a lot out of you. There were times where you lost more patients than you saved and it left you wondering if you were even good at what you do. However, there were the times where miracle patients made an unprecedented recovery. Those were the moments that kept you coming back.

The stress mounted on your shoulders, though. You had three dogs in isolation that were struggling to survive, so much so that you did your best to not promise anything to their owners. For now, they were resting in the silence of your closed clinic. You leaned back in your chair and let your head hang until you stared blankly at the ceiling. The muscles in your lower back burned and ached from standing and kneeling all day. Did you eat lunch today? Did you ever use the bathroom?

“Y’know I was really hoping you’d text me back this week, Doc.”

“WAH!” The sound of Keigo’s voice breaking through the fragile silence sent you backwards in your chair with a frightened shriek. But before you could hit the floor, you were looking up into Keigo’s eyes as he had rushed over to catch you. His good wing caught your chair while his hand cradled the back of your head.

“Woah easy there. I knew you’d fall for me but I didn’t think you’d do it literally.”

“Keigo! Oh shit, you scared me!” The winged hero looked so smug as he held you there. You were incredibly aware of just how close his face was to yours and you felt your stomach flip as a result. That stupid grin cracked on his lips, a wild eyebrow arching confidently.

“P-please help me up.” The shakiness in your voice was louder than you’d like it to be. But he brought you upright, nonetheless, in a smooth motion before sitting on your desk. “Thank you...”

“Hey it’s what heroes do, am I right? So-...” He reached forward with a gloved hand to fidget with the ends of your ponytail between his fingers. “What’s up? You seem more stressed than usual.”

Than usual? How would he know how stressed you are on a daily basis? You’d only seen each other twice, three times including today. What you didn’t know was that Keigo had a lot of time to fill while he allowed his wing to recover. Most of it was spent catching up on paperwork he had neglected back at headquarters. The rest of the time? He was watching you from afar. This strange instinct to keep an eye on you was out of character for him, he never paid this much attention to anyone who wasn’t a target for a mission.

But you...

Choosing to ignore that last statement, you let out a weary sigh. The tension in your shoulders relaxed and they slumped. Keigo observed you, choosing to stay quiet until you responded.

“It’s just...been a rough week. This business-...I don’t always get to save everyone and it was just a little more than I could handle this week.”

Something about that struck a chord in the depths of his heart. He knew about that reality all too well. Sometimes not everyone made it out alive, regardless of how hard he tried. And remarkably, you understood that. There wasn’t much he could say that would make you feel any better other than just a hum in his throat.

“Mmh...I get it. That’s a really heavy burden to carry.” The hand that played with your hair slipped out of its glove and rested on your shoulder to give it a reassuring squeeze. You felt your anxiety dissolve a little when he smiled at you.

“Anyway...that’s why I didn’t text you. I just didn’t have the moment to spare. I haven’t really left the clinic for more than a couple hours each day.” You let out an exhausted yawn behind your hand. Keigo noticed the way your nose scrunched up when you did so, and the cute squeak your throat made.

“Mmh my goodness, sorry. How’s the wing?” Back on track. He admired your tenacity and dedication to your work. Arms slipped out of his jacket followed by his uniform shirt. The redness returned to your features and you chewed your bottom lip nervously before regaining focus. It shouldn’t be this hard to look at a shirtless man. You’re an adult, get over yourself! But then again...you reminded yourself that there were no men like Keigo.

“Not too bad. The pain killers have helped but I didn’t wanna take them too long.” The splinted wing lifted and tried to flex. There was a tightness in the limb that was driving him crazy. And boy was it itchy. You noticed and began to remove the tape and gauze so you could feel the bone with your fingers.

To your surprise, Keigo didn’t flinch. In fact, you didn’t feel much of the break anymore. That was odd. One hand gently grasped the far side of his wing and slowly flexed it open. Once more, no pain response. You let go and told him to open and close it, which he did with a little strain but after a few tries it opened and closed in a smooth motion.

“How the-...this was a completely transverse fracture two weeks ago.” You muttered to yourself, truly confused but intrigued. Without thinking, you snagged Keigo by the wrist and yanked him into the radiology suite for immediate xrays.

“Woah hey! What?! What’s wrong?”

“On the table. Flex the wing. Hold still.” You were in like a trance, transfixed on getting answers. He did as you instructed without his usual teasing banter, the less he said the quicker you’d speak to him. You said nothing throughout the process, even after the images printed and were clipped to the lightbox.

“How?!” You gasped with your eyes trained on the image of Keigo’s healed wing. There wasn’t even the typical crease that came with the fusion of broken bones after they healed. You felt stupefied just gawking at his xrays.

“What?!” He practically shrieked, you were making him nervous by not explaining as quick as you usually did.

“It’s healed. I don’t-...did you know you could heal this quickly?” Keigo had the audacity to look embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly with a dumb smile on his handsome face.

“Ah yeah, I guess I did. But I dunno, I just figured I needed an excuse to keep seeing you.” Once again you found yourself in close proximity to the winged hero, too close, in fact. Being this close made it suddenly dawn on you that now he didn’t need to come back anymore. He was healed and had no reason to sneak into your cute little clinic after hours.

Keigo could see the realization on your face, your expressions were incredibly loud in spite of you not having said a single word. You’d only seen each other twice before today but even he could tell there was something there.

“Hey, why don’t you take a short break and come on a test flight with me, there’s something I wanna show you.”

“What now? Keigo I-..” His back was already retreating back to your office to put his shirt and coat back on. When he returned, he held your hoodie out that was on the back of your office door. You looked at the clock, your overnight tech would be here soon to look after the hospitalized patients. Maybe you could afford to slip out for just a little while.

“Come on. You won’t let me pay you with money, so let me thank you my way.”

There really was no arguing with Keigo, he was too headstrong. So you reached for your hoodie, only for him to yank it back. Instead, he held it open for you to slide your arms into. You were trying so hard not to swoon.

“Alright...let’s go.”

A/N: I’m really glad you guys are liking this drabble. I’m thinking of making it into a fanfiction of sorts, maybe. With some conflict and maybe a lil romance. Let me know what you think! I love feedback!

[arigatouiris]

always you // tsukishima x reader

Author’s Note: I am kinda proud of this one because I relate to the reader and Tsukki here so I just projected half of my personalities into either of them hahaha. Again, before I take requests, which I do, I want to finish clearing the works on my draft first. Currently I have two more one shots before my draft is completely clear and so far I have 3 requests in total. Also, I can totally see Tsukki as the pining type and hopeless romantic, yanno? I hope ya’ll like this~

Word count: 6329 words

Pairing: Tsukishima Kei x Reader (Aged up) (College AU)

Warnings: angst, mentions of alcohol, intoxication, intense pining, slight sexual references, eventual fluff, tired reader

If someone would have told Tsukishima Kei that he would miss every single detail about Karasuno when he’d graduate, he’d have laughed at their face. He wasn’t sentimental, anyone who knew Tsukishima knew that he was one of the most practical people they’d ever meet, but here he was, standing beside a particular desk in his 3-4 classroom, staring at an inscription on it that reminded him of you.

The classroom is empty, and the silence echoes in his head constantly. It takes him only a second to think of how loud it would be if it were filled with people—it feels like just yesterday when this very classroom was bustling with joy and laughter, and here you’d sit, reading a book or trying to take a quick nap or doodling. 

Looking anywhere but at him.

He let out a breath before feeling his eyes burn, his fingers ghosting over the inscription on the desk. He thinks of your smile directed at him, your hair blowing in the wind, your laughter at something Yamaguchi said, and the way your eyes would glisten when you called out his name.

Tsukki.

His heart was constricting with a familiar sort of pain, the very pain he felt when he broke up with you six months ago; he remembered how your eyes didn’t widen, how tired you looked, how you pressed your lips together, and just walked away. You must have expected it, the way things had been going in the last year. You had your own club activities, and Kei had his dedication to the volleyball club—yet, despite how understanding the both of you had been earlier, third year did not work out.

     “Tsukki,” Yamaguchi’s voice broke him out of his stupor, before he pulled his hand away from the inscription. “Do you... Do you want to speak to her?”

He did. 

Oh, he missed you with every fibre of his being. He wanted to talk to you, he wanted to bury his fingers in your hair, touch your skin, kiss you till you became breathless and he wanted to see the blush settle on your face because of him. He wanted to apologize and scream at how stupid he was for letting you go, and all of this he had realized in six months of not being around you. People often said that first loves don’t last forever, but Kei wanted nothing more than to make things work with you.

No one understood him like you did; you took his snapping with a bulletproof shield and you were headstrong when he was letting himself feel weak. You didn’t punish him for being himself, instead, you embraced him for everything that came with him being who he was—even the bad parts.

     “No.” 

But, he knew it was too late. He knew you were probably not even in school. Your medical entrance was not far away, and he knew how hard you were working for it. That’s what he loved most about you. On days when he thought he wasn’t paying much attention to you, he’d be one of the last things on your mind because you had a life of your own. He’d wonder if he was being a bad boyfriend by neglecting you for days, not texting you or calling you, but then he’d hear from Yamaguchi that your club activities kept you so busy that it was hard for you to initiate any contact as well.

And when you two did meet after a week of not talking, you’d embrace him with that calming, quite addictive smile and a soft hug before he pushed you away and made fun of you. He’d secretly do it just to see you pout, which he thought was adorable. 

And his heart would break when you’d apologize to him instead. Tsukki, I’m sorry I was so busy, his eyes would widen, The club needed me to finish the reports for the anthology we were preparing—

He’d shut you up each time with a firm kiss. The loud beating of his heart meant that he liked you more than he let you know and he only wondered if that would ever bite him in the ass later. 

And it did.

*

It had been seven months since he had last seen you. 

Tsukishima knew you were in Tohoku Medical University, and the last time he had seen you was near his own university, meeting with a bunch of girls. He didn’t approach you, quickly hid himself away at an angle that allowed him to look at you, while you couldn’t see him. You didn’t cut your hair, despite how he believed girls after a relationship would make some change; however, you looked exactly like he remembered, no changes.

Did that mean something? He couldn’t deny how he was feeling upon seeing you there, smiling and talking to people he didn’t know, and he ached for you. To see you was to be seduced by you, and he loved how feisty you were with him. 

You weren’t shy, you didn’t have a flat personality like most girls he had met. You were a dangerous combination of everything that could ruin him, personified in a form that always took his breath away. Only he could see you flustered, only his touches could make you sigh and gasp and breathless, and he’d have it no other way.

He yearned for a glimpse of you throughout the day, and only at nights he could see you, be with you. But, somehow, you would be gone when he woke up.

It was a week after that did Tsukishima even tell Yamaguchi that he had seen you, to which the blond got news that he perhaps, could have lived without.

     “She’s dating someone.”

Tsukishima’s eyes widen at his friend’s words, who only looked a tad bit uncomfortable at how the blond was staring at him.

     “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have brought it up—”

     “Who is it?”

Yamaguchi gulped, unsure if he even had to say anymore. He knew how his friend felt about you, and throwing at him this sudden bit of information could damage him more than he already was. Clearly, Tsukishima Kei had not stopped yearning for you, despite the breakup, despite the gap, despite the almost one year of not being with you.

     “It’s someone from her college... Her senpai, I think?”

But, there was no way Yamaguchi could ever lie to Kei. Tsukishima was grateful for the news, but the way it made him feel was not worth knowing the information. He felt a rock settle in between his lungs and every time he breathed he thought of you, and it hurt all the more than it did before. No matter how many deep breaths he took, Tsukishima could not let go of that rock. 

     “It’s been long anyway,” He couldn’t even hear his own words, “Good for her.”

Yamaguchi was the one who could see the emotions plastered on his friend’s face, and his heart dropped at the mere sight. Of all the years he had known Tsukishima, he had never seen him so exposed, so vulnerable, and without you, he was just a mess. A walking body of high-functioning anxiety, Tsukishima Kei would rather let his demons devour him than reveal that a girl was making him feel so helpless.

But, that girl was you—strength and beauty personified; there was no wonder that Kei fell so hard for you.

Yamaguchi still remembered that day clearly. The first time you two met, in final year of Junior High. Your relationship with Kei was as special as the one he shared with the blond, and even though you didn’t know him as long, it was just as strong, just as precious, and just as important.

In final year of Junior High, your grades suddenly skyrocketed and you were placed in his class—the teacher often comparing your grades with his own, two of the smartest people in class. Though, your smarts did not just come from you paying attention in class, it came from late-night work and intense studying on weekends. 

He had learned later on that you could not afford a cram school, so you would often cram by yourself, into ungodly hours on weekdays, and you’d come to class looking like a zombie and he’d snicker only to have you either ignore him or snap back.

Nevertheless, Kei grew to care for you and Yamaguchi noticed. He’d notice how Kei’s advances at making fun of you died down quite a bit afterward, and if he saw you struggling with something, he’d voluntarily walk over to you and offer to help you—surprising Yamaguchi, and himself in many ways, but what blew his mind was how you’d take his help despite the number of times you’d snapped at him, and you’d thank him, genuinely, making his heart feel full.

You’d started calling him Tsukki by the end of that year, and you’d gotten into Karasuno as well. It was as if the three of you were destined now, and slowly, he realized he developed feelings for you.

And even then, it was you who asked him out. Your face was red, your hands were behind your back, hoping that he’d not see that you were practically shaking, and you were a bit scared that he’d make fun of you. The year had just started, and his practice was going to keep him busy, but you liked him. You liked everything about Tsukishima Kei starting from the teasing, the relentless sarcasm, and the unbridled dedication, which was only masked by his nonchalant demeanor. 

But, it surprised you when no teasing ensued. You could never forget the way he looked right then—red faced, hand covering half his jaw, looking away from you like his life was on the line.

     “Y-Yeah, I know. You free this weekend?”

Kei thought of you every single day after Yamaguchi told him you were dating someone else. He’d think of you with someone, laughing at their jokes, holding their hand, letting them smell your hair or watch you smile, get the chance to see your eyes glisten toward them.

His thoughts now weren’t even that innocent; on odd days, in the loneliness his apartment brought him, Tsukishima thought of you kissing the boy you were dating, having his hands roam all over you, having some man ravage you instead of him. All Tsukishima could do was wonder what it would be like to take your first, what it would feel like to have his hands roam all over you—his thoughts, while not innocent, reflected how utterly alone he felt. 

And when Tsukishima woke up every single morning, his mind would go crawling back to you with guilt over how dirty his thoughts were the previous night. 

That evening, after practice, Tsukishima noticed Yamaguchi approach him, waving his hands, flailing them from side to side. Tsukishima rolled his eyes at his friend, who merely smiled at the blond before they walked out of the gym together.

     “What’s with you today?” 

Yamaguchi said, “She broke up with him.”

Tsukishima could not miss the way his heart skipped a beat at what Yamaguchi said. ‘She’ was automatically ‘you’, and that one vague sentence made so much sense to him that it had him thinking of how much you had him wrapped around your finger, without even knowing it. He turned to his friend, who merely nodded, and continued.

     “Apparently, he was too clingy. They’re in med school, and she’s not free at all. Now more so than it was in high school, and her senpai kept nagging at her for not spending enough time with her and she called it off a few days ago.”

Tsukishima did not hide the smirk that sat on his lips. 

     “She was always the individualistic type.” He commented, his voice low.

     “Yeah,” Tadashi nodded, “She needs her space, that (y/n).”

Tsukishima was in a way glad that you considered Yamaguchi so close. Some part of his mind wondered if the reason you told Yamaguchi such intricate details of your life was because you wanted him to know about you. Maybe, you knew Tadashi would ultimately tell Kei about everything, and maybe that was what you wanted.

     “Tsukki,” Yamaguchi voiced, “I can’t do this anymore...”

His eyes widened at his friend’s sudden revelation.

     “What do you mean?”

     “Maybe, (y/n)-chan tells me these things hoping I’d not tell you. Maybe, she wants me to tell you, either way, this is exhausting. You still love her, and she... she’s still trying to wrap her head around whatever it is she’s feeling and I feel like I’m caught in the middle here.”

Tsukishima knew that he could feel this way, but there was no way he could allow himself to lose the one thing that linked him to you. That one thing being Yamaguchi. 

     “Yama—”

     “Tsukki, please.”

Kei turned away before pressing his lips into a thin line. He understands, but he doesn’t like it. Yamaguchi knows that his friend doesn’t appreciate it, but the fact that Tsukishima Kei would never wish for someone’s unhappiness over his selfish desires was what kept their friendship going. 

*

Just as he was about to fall asleep that night, his phone rings. He’d not miss the number anywhere, his eyes were saucers as they were staring at your name on his phone screen, calling him at 1 a.m., almost as if you were used to calling him all these months.

His fingers ghost around the phone screen before deciding to pick the call, his heart rummaging in his chest the entire time.

     “(y/n)?”

     “Tsukki?”

In that one utterance, Tsukishima knew something was wrong. You weren’t yourself, there was something different, something that showcased that you were not entirely sane at that second. His stomach plummeted to the bottom when he realized what was actually going on.

     “Are you... are you drunk?”

You let out a bitter laugh before scoffing, “No, you’re drunk. Loser.”

He was suddenly very, very annoyed. He instantly got up, grabbing his jacket, checking the time once again before getting shocked once again at how careless you were being.

     “Where the hell are you? I’m coming to get you—”

     “I’m being followed, Tsukki.”

He could puke right now. In all his 20 years of life, he has never felt this scared. He felt the back of his eyelids burn, begging him to let himself cry, but if he had a breakdown it would only delay in getting to you. He needed to get you safe, he needed to ensure that you were within four walls, untouched, unscathed. 

     “Where are you?”

     “Inside a 7 Eleven... I think this is the one near Sendai?”

He knows where you are, but that doesn’t give him any sort of relief. 

     “Stay there. Do you understand me? Stay right there, and don’t fucking hang up.”

He doesn’t even bother to take his wallet, Tsukishima bolts out of his apartment, locking it, running towards the particular store you were in. He spots you from outside, you were not dressed provocatively, a fact that he was grateful for, and rushed inside to grab you by your wrist. You instantly pulled away, before looking up and realizing it was Tsukishima. 

Your eyes widened at his sudden arrival before he noticed how flushed your face was. You were so beautiful, it was breathtaking, but right now, all he could feel was unbridled anger.

     “No one’s following you, (y/n). What the fuck is wrong with you? Why did you—”

     “I was being paranoid? Man, I really need to sit down—”

     “Who left you here?” Tsukishima asked, anger bubbling in his chest.

He pulled you out of the store before leading you to his apartment. Walking with you there would take you ten minutes easily, but this part he didn’t care. He was glad that you were safe, but he was still angry at how careless your actions were.

     “My ex left me there. He wanted to talk about something, I think? But I just didn’t want to listen to him,” Kei looked at you from the side, his hand wrapped around your wrist, “I kept chugging one drink after another because I was just...”

He saw the eye bags under your eyes and he saw how dry your lips were. You were clearly dehydrated, and you looked devastatingly tired. Med school wasn’t a walk in the park, but seeing you like this, almost defeated, somehow reminded him of himself.

     “...I was just so tired.”

Kei’s eyes did not leave your form. He was hyperaware that the two of you hadn’t reached home yet, and whatever conversation he was going to have with you, he understood that right now wasn’t the best time. You were intoxicated, and by the looks of it, you were probably not going to remember anything of what was happening at the moment. 

A few more minutes later, Tsukishima had dragged you into his apartment, and latched the door behind him. He was grateful that he didn’t need to share his space with anyone, which meant he could avoid idiotic questions like ‘who’s the girl?’ or ‘it’s so late in the night, though?’, because right then, all Tsukishima wanted was answers from you, whether you were in a drunken stupor or not. Handing you a large glass of water and glaring at you until you drank it, Kei forced you to sit on the edge of his bed and watched you keenly.

     “Apparently senpai wanted to get back together,” You said, surprisingly sounding a lot less drunk. 

But, judging from your eyes and the way you were unable to focus on his unmoving form, which was right in front of you, he was certain that the alcohol was still in your system. Kei’s heart went out to how sad you actually looked, your light pink sweater was still neat, your jeans unstained, your hair tied in a messy bun—you weren’t dressed for drinks. It was perhaps either spontaneous or you were pushed to a point where you were so pissed off that drinking seemed the only way out.

     “Did he... Did he do anything?”

Tsukishima felt stupid for even attempting to ask you this, but he calmed down when he saw you smile to yourself.

     “No, I had pepper spray in my pocket.”

     “Had?”

     “I think I lost it now.”

Kei wanted to slap himself. You weren’t always like this. You weren’t someone who would resort to something so dangerous and reckless. He couldn’t help but think if this was in some way your method of coping, your method of healing from the breakup—was this your breakup formula, the inevitable course of action that you were supposed to take after he broke your heart?

     “I ended up calling my other ex.” You laughed, somewhat bitterly, causing Tsukishima’s stomach to drop.

You were drunk, but you clearly knew who he was and where you were. You may have been a lightweight but somehow, he was impressed with how you were holding your liquor, Kei leaned down in front of you and just watched you, his eyes were surprisingly soft, his fingers dying to touch you—unafraid because he knew you would not remember these moments with him. 

     “I don’t want to tell you anything I’ll regret in the morning,” You whispered, causing his eyes to widen.

     “What does that mean?” He asked, desperately, inching closer to you, but being sure to not make you uncomfortable.

You shook your head before blinking away tears that threatened to come your way. Tsukishima gaped, breathless, at how even intoxicated, you were the single most breathtaking person he had ever laid his eyes on.

     “Please sleep.” He said, standing up, and leaving you in his room. He wasn’t going to fit on the couch, but there was no other option. 

Even if his bed could fit the both of you, Kei would rather you sleep well and comfortably, than he would. Besides, he was sure that if he slept beside you (or even on the couch), he wouldn’t get to stay asleep for long either way.

When you wake up, you took a few seconds to bolt upwards, check your surroundings and then yourself. Your wallet, keys to your apartment, and your hair tie were on a table beside the bed, where a couple of aspirin and a water bottle was placed too. Getting up too fast was not good for you, your head spun around so sharply that you were inches away from puking.

     “Where...?”

A moment later, you got up from the bed—after having taken the medicine and water, left there by god knows who, you inched your way to the living room of this strange person, wanting to thank them for sheltering you for the night. You felt shame hit your veins, you can’t believe you had done something like this—especially alone; and you could only wonder if a creep had sheltered you.

But, the person you saw on the couch was Tsukishima Kei, your ex-boyfriend from high school, struggling to stay asleep on the couch. Your heart broke at the sight of the tall boy, barely fitting into the couch, knowing full well that another step and he’ll wake up.

On odd days, you wondered why he broke up with you. On odd days, you missed him so much that you could cry. On days like today, your heart was barely fill and you were certain that a certain blond was the reason you craved doing reckless things—reckless because some part of you wished with all it had that he would come save you. He stirred awake, almost alerted by how you were just standing there, without making a sound. 

When his eyes met yours, he scoffed rudely—as expected—before sitting up, and leaning his head against the headrest. 

     “Tsukishima—”

     “I knew med students were crazy, but wow,” Your eyes widened at his words, “What the fuck, (l/n)?”

You had descended down to your last name with him, and the acknowledgement of it shattered your heart. You felt tears prick your eyes instantly, but you were not going to show any sort of weakness in front of him, not after last night—not after whatever could have happened.

     “What happened last night?” You couldn’t bare the sound of your voice, at how groggy and hungover you sounded.

Tsukishima made it evident that he didn’t like it too, but chose to keep his words to himself.

     “Nothing dirty happened, just you, throwing yourself into a depressing pit of alcohol drinking and embarrassing yourself.”

You frowned. There was no need for him to be plain mean about it. Sure, he had helped you, but that was it, right?

     “Thanks for last night.” You wanted to ignore his words, you wanted to let it go and not fuel him into saying anything more. 

     “I won’t be surprised if this happens again, you know? Judging from how you’ve turned out—”

     “Tsukishima!” You snapped, causing him to wince at his own words.

He didn’t dare look at you. He knew he had crossed the line, he knew he had said something to deliberately hurt you, and that had hurt you, but facing you would break him. What a coward, his mind scolded him, before he heard shuffling coming from where you stood. 

     “You see, I’m not surprised,” You said, pressing your lips together. “You were always this bitter.”

Tsukishima could hear your voice break. Way to go, he thought, you made her cry again. He gulped before attempting to turn to you, but he noticed that your back was facing him now—making him feel somewhat relieved, but scared at the same time. 

I am so glad you’re okay, was what he wanted to say.

     “No shit,” was what came out.

He noticed how your shoulders trembled now, as you reached down to grab your shoes. Tsukishima wanted to stand up and stop you, hold you in his embrace and beg for you to stay because if it were him, he’d not even dare give himself another chance—but you, you were forgiving and kind and gentle, all things that drove him up the wall yet made him fall so devastatingly in love with you.

Please don’t go, he wanted to say.

     “Get out, (l/n),” was what came out.

You shook your head, “I can’t believe I’m like this because of you.”

Tsukishima felt the wind get knocked out of him, but before he could stop you, before he could find answers or any sort of confirmation at what you said, before he could even think of what was going on, unfortunately for him, he was frozen to where he stood and was forced to watch you leave. 

He felt his fingers shake, and he looked down at his hands, which got blurrier and blurrier at each second, as he fought the urge to slap himself. Of course, he thought internally, if he was a mess of a human being, finding unhealthy coping mechanisms by trying to learn about what you were doing, stalking your social media, staring at pictures of you from Yamaguchi’s profile, reading his old chats with you, and everything that would perhaps never let him move on from you; then so were you.

He was the one who broke up with you, after all. If anything, you’d be the one in a much, much more difficult path. 

Tsukishima did not go to class that day, and he missed practice. His captain called him multiple times, to which he merely replied saying he had the stomach bug—his captain was a lot like Kageyama, but for some reason, even he understood the importance of an optimum immune system and told Tsukishima he had to take the day off, no issues from that. Yamaguchi inquired about his sudden absence, but he merely said ‘I’m tired’ to him and left it at that.

But, oh boy, he was trying to call you, alright. 

Tsukishima perhaps would have called you fifteen times in the last hour, with each of those calls ignored. After the barrage of calls, he left a barrage of messages, each asking you to pick up or call him back, suddenly forgetting the need to act as if he was high and mighty—no, if you were hurting as well, and he was hurting beyond belief, he had to fix it. A dialogue was the only thing that could put things back to normal, and hell be with Tsukishima keeping face. If this meant that he had to bow down and scream an apology, then so be it.

Hey. Pick up.

Hey. Call me.

Please, call me back.

Are you busy? Call me.

I know you’re ignoring me, call me back.

(y/n). Please. Call me.

What if this was an emergency? Call me, (y/n).

Tsukishima looked at his own messages and thought about what was wrong with him. After almost a year and a half of radio silence, here he was, literally begging for you to call him back after he had done something so fucking idiotic. He had a lot more to apologize for, he knew it, but he could only do so if you gave him that chance.

It was around 7 p.m., when you called back. 

     “(y/n)—”

     “I had lab time, Tsukishima. What do you want?”

You were busy. You were perhaps so busy you couldn’t check your phone. Of course, you were studying to become a doctor. You weren’t ignoring him. Somehow, this fact resonated well with his heart. Even your ‘what do you want’ sounded more tired than angry, and he could hear the lag in your voice to confirm the same.

     “I need to talk to you—”

     “Well, you made it clear that you didn’t want anything to do with me earlier today.”

     “Please,” He felt so out of character, but right then he didn’t care, “Let me see you.”

     “I...” He heard you sigh deeply, “I can’t today, really. I missed lab work yesterday because... because of that stupid bar night, and now I have to make up for the lost time. I’ll probably be here studying all night.”

     “Okay then.”

You were confused when he cut the call, but you assumed he was just tired of trying. You weren’t making an excuse; you stared at your phone, where just a moment ago your ex-boyfriend’s name was flashed up. You lick your lips and realize it’s been four hours since you had a sip of water. You clearly weren’t taking good care of yourself, and if Tsukishima was still with you, he’d reprimand you to no end.

Oh, you missed him. 

You missed how he’d scold you for these reckless things you’d do. He knew about your habit of never drinking water, just surviving on licking your lips and sipping water after meals here and there. He hated that bit about you and he made it his personal responsibility to ensure you drank at least a bottle of water whenever he was around. 

You missed the way he cared for you, so subtle yet loud—it resonated like his personality and you’d sometimes find yourself caring about your well-being because he cared; and even though the motivation here was incorrect, it brought the desired result regardless.

You missed him so much, it was like suddenly having lost a part of your body. It was as though you had lost an arm or leg but still instinctively reach out to feel your missing limb or try to walk again, placing your entire weight on something that was no longer there.

Swallowing the intense feelings you were experiencing, you buried yourself into the work you had ignored the previous evening and started to work. Medical school was exhausting even without the emotional baggage you managed to carry with you every single day.

What you expected would take you a couple of hours merely extended and you were in the lab till 2 a.m. Your eyelids were heavier than they had ever been before and you felt like your legs were jelly. You didn’t care about the way you looked right then, but you were certain that you looked half-dead. You couldn’t remember the last time you had eaten, and you noticed that the water bottle you had got for yourself earlier that day was still untouched. 

Sighing, you grab your things and prepared to trek all the way home. A simple walk would feel like a trek, your feet felt like they were bleeding from the soles. However, the second you stepped out through the hospital exit (the college exit was closed), your footsteps came to a halt.

Tsukishima sat there, by the bench near the parking and your heart skipped a beat. What is he...?

He noticed movement from the side of his view and spotted you there. He instantly stood up, before realizing that you were busy (once again), of how you poured your all into everything that you cared about. This only made him wonder how much you had poured yourself into him.

     “What are you doing here?”

You sounded so tired, it was so strange. He had never heard you sound almost defeated—he took one good look at you then; chapped lips, dark circles, disheveled hair; he knew you were dehydrated, hungry, exhausted and you had not once thought of these things.

     “I’m hungry.”

You blink and sigh, “Tsukishima, I’ve had a long—”

     “Please, come with me.”

You’ve never heard him say please so many times in one day. Your heart is weak for him still, and you follow him to the nearest 7 Eleven. You were wearing your white coat, a purple full sleeved top and the same jeans you were last night. You looked to find him wearing exactly what he was wearing that morning when you saw him, the black full sleeve tee, brown jacket and blue jeans. No matter what he wore, he always managed to look so devastatingly beautiful. 

     “Eat something.” 

You didn’t have the energy to argue with him, you bought a sandwich for yourself and he got some ramen (for some reason, he chose your favorite flavor), and the two of you went out to sit by a park bench, isolated from the world. Your apartment was merely a five-minute walk from where you were, but that didn’t matter right then.

     “You obviously still like me.” He said, somehow his voice not condescending or witty.

     “Obviously.” You admit, because you were too tired to argue.

You heard him chuckle, but you were busy eating your sandwich, the bottle of water beside you suddenly looked like the most tempting thing in the world. What you missed was how Tsukishima’s hands were trembling as he linked them together in front of him, leaning forward on where he sat. 

     “You’re an asshole, you know that?” You say, realizing the sandwich did nothing to quench your hunger.

     “I know.” He sounded so defeated, before turning to you and handing you the cup ramen.

I knew he was going to do this, you thought, tears pricking your eyes. He bought your favorite flavor because he knew.

Tsukki, you took the cup ramen without hesitation, you can’t do this to me.

     “Why,” You stared at the cup ramen, “Why can’t you just tell me what’s on your mind?”

You heard no response from him. You took exactly two sips from the water bottle and dug into the cup ramen. But you stopped eating midway, shaking your head. 

     “Kei,” You jumped to third year high school again, “Please, I can’t... I will leave if you don’t stop me.”

There was no attempt made. You turned to see him staring at the ground, emotionlessly. You couldn’t decipher what you were feeling, but you certainly couldn’t try to decipher what he was feeling either. His silence left you breathless, all of a sudden you want to cry and scream, you wonder what you did wrong, you wonder what happened—why was he the way he was? Did you make him mistrust you in anyway?

A sob exited your mouth, but your trembling lips capture the rest. 

However, Tsukishima Kei’s trembling hands raised to his face and he cried; your eyes widening at his sudden reveal. You quickly place the cup ramen to your side and turn to face him, your sweet boy, the boy you had so willingly given your heart to, crying his heart out, sobs ugly, tears streaking down his gorgeous face. The sight kills you.

     “It’s so fucking hard to see you happy,”

You’re confused, but you knew he didn’t mean the words to their exact meaning. There had to be something else. He didn’t want you to be happy? What the fuck?

     “And I’m not there...”

Ah.

     “You... You don’t need me and that kills me...”

You were quick to kneel down in front of him, your fingers trembling, your knee trembling, your legs quivering, but your heart was strong enough. All you needed right now was your heart.

     “I don’t need you,” Your voice was a whisper only he could hear. 

Kei rolled his eyes, and you noticed how wet they were from the crying. Your right hand wiped some of the tears from his face before you took a breath.

     “But I want you. Always, always you.”

It was Kei’s turn to meet your gaze. You were staring at him, a soft smile on your features.

Why was it that it was always you who would assure him when things were wrong? Why was it that you were always saving him? Either from a misunderstanding, a fight or most often, from himself?

He felt so weak when he was around you. He didn’t know if it was a curse or a blessing.

     “No one compares to you. And as bad as that sounds, I couldn’t stop thinking of you, no matter who I’m with. No one compares to your brash, asshole self.”

You let out a giggle and notice how wide his eyes were. You want to kiss him, but you hold back.

     “I love you so much, but it’s hard, Kei... It’s hard if you don’t give me bit of an edge, you know?”

Your hand which was on his face, Kei suddenly took it and kissed the back of it, surprising you. 

     “I love you,” He kisses it again, “I am so in love with you.”

You could only smile. You leaned forward, before pressing your lips to his; Tsukishima could feel how chapped your lips were, but that didn’t stop him from kissing you back fervently. His hand rushed to the side of your face, before pressing you to him, not hard enough that you fall down—he was painfully aware of how tired you were. He pulled away before pecking your lips a few times, kissing below your lower lip and staring at you, lovingly.

     “All of this pain could have been avoided if you just accepted what you were feeling, you know that right?”

You were right. 

You were always right when it came to him, no one knew him as well as you did. You knew every inch of his soul because it belonged to you, and there was no taking back. And while he was aware that he had to work on some aspects of himself, Kei suddenly felt confident. Looking at you, kneeling in front of him like that, despite how tired you were, despite how shitty of a day it had been, he was sure that with you, he could do anything.

Suddenly, his mind travelled back to your desk in class 3-4, with the inscription that he could not stop touching back on the day of your graduation. 

kei + y/n

A simple jumble of words. Enough to break his heart, or make it. He wondered if he’ll ever tell you he created a small forever for the both of you in that classroom.

Well, he thought, forcing you to drink water, Maybe someday.

[wizkiddx]

Admit you miss me

hello hello!! I’m trying to get better at this whole thing and also how to (ahem) use tumblr cos apparently have the abilities similar of an elderly woman but we move. hope people are okay, ik Christmas isn’t the easiest for everyone so sending love <3

I would also really really appreciate some improvements to my writing, I got loads sitting in my drafts but my dyslexic ass is struggling to sorta combine it all - so any help would be incred x x

Small and fluffy for you ;))) , Tomhollandxreader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n/n - iMessage

[you]

‘Sorry I missed you call was in a meeting, you okay?’

[y/n/n]

‘Yeh I’m fine but can you call me please?’

Tom quirked an eyebrow at the almost instantaneous response of his girlfriend it was very out of character and made him worry a little.

1. Because she was the WORST replier he’d ever met, in the early stages he had really thought she hadn’t been interested at all given the typical 12 hr response time, so her answering before he’d had time to put the phone down was weird.

2. Because they’d already phoned today, always at 6 o’clock UK time and 1 o’clock (lunchtime) in Atlanta. The time difference was 5 hrs, which comparatively wasn’t that bad, but now for Tom is was half 8 in the evening, meaning for her it was more closer to 1 in the morning. Y/n never stayed up late either she was one of those earlier riser types, which always slightly infuriated Tom who occasionally just wanted days of lying in bed, legs tangled with his beautiful girl. But no, that was never allowed - instead sunrise walks or drives to the countryside for some fresh air.

So she had him downright worried, making him instantly leave the living room and Harry on his own, taking the stairs two at a time before reaching his bedroom and pressing the FaceTime button next to her contact as he flung himself on the plush duvet.

“Hey darling you okay?” He had to smile as her face appeared on the screen, the soft light of her bedside lamp casting soft glows across the left side of her face. Clearly in bed, Y/n was wearing a rather familiar burgundy hoodie and her hair was pulled up into a messy bun, loose rogue strands framing her face beautifully.

“Mhmm I just need to speak to you.” She replied in a slightly muttered manner, running the nail of the third finger across her lip - something Tom did when she was thinking a lot- while she stared intently at the screen.

“You sound all serious love, what’s up?” He tried to stay calm, but being separated from her for so long meant it was only natural, he was worried this was something about them

“Well I just couldn’t sleep and was scrolling on instagram, saw the video you did for the brothers trust.”

“Is that it?” `he was a little perplexed, nothing in that video should’ve alarmed him.

“No because you looked all soft and tired and all I wanted to do was wrap you in a blanket and climb into bed with you” She rushed through the sentence, more than a little embarrassed.

“Thats what this is about?”

“No because you said you weren’t working too hard and that was a lie! Whats a relationship without trust Tom!”

He had to laugh at that too. His girlfriend was also possibly the most confusing person he had ever met. She was proud, headstrong, motivated and to almost everyone appeared to have a heart of stone. Tom knew better though. It made him smirk.

“Uh-uh don’t try and turn this on me, just tell me you miss me.”

“No I am strictly just worried about you health Tom! You haven’t stopped since you went to Berlin and I’m worried about you!”

“Or you couldn’t sleep because, as you have admitted to me before, you sleep better when I’m with you and that’s why you texted me as if something awful had happened!” The boy was good. He countered Y/n’s arguments perfectly with the truth that she wouldn’t admit.

“No..” She murmured while momentarily looking away, while she paused and laughed to herself about how well he knew her “and anyway you do look tired.”

“I sleep better when you’re here too” Tom spoke so softly, which made Y/n blush. And didn’t he know it.

“You are coming back at the same time in December right?”

“Yep and you better be ready to be stuck by my side for the rest of the year.”

“If I’m not busy with all my other boyfriends.”Y/n grinned, her tongue ever so slightly running across the back of her teeth - it was her mischievous look. Tom just snorted, which didn’t seem to be the reaction she had wanted, going by the immediate scowl.

“Oh really now?”

“Oh yeh since we went instagram official you are just one of my many options Tommy.”

“Better get my act together then!” Y/n smiled but let the conversation drop, as she just looked at the slightly fuzzy image on the screen. His face just made her heart ache because she really did miss him. Especially since the UK went into lockdown 2.0 a week ago because of the situation. It meant Y/n, a young working professional, was isolated into her own flat all bay herself. Last lockdown, she’d moved in with all the boys and Tom at their big all-expenses-paid house. But now Harrison had moved out, and since Tom and Harry were away it just made sense for her to stay at her place - she was paying rent for it anyway. But it was lonely as hell, even if she could ‘bubble’ with Harrison he was often at work because this time round he’d been allowed to continue unlike y/n who was working from home.

The reason she had called though, was because she’d just had to cancel her flight out to visit Tom. It had already been 2 months since she’d seen him, so Tom had offered to book her a flight to come see him for a week or so before shit hit the fan again. It scared her as well, feeling like this, Y/n wasn’t one to ‘fall in love’- not a cushy romantic at all. But now, she almost felt slightly dependent on Tom, he was a primary source of happiness - and right now was also on the opposite side of the world.

“,,,I’m sorry I can’t come next week. Second lockdown is shit by the way, I’m all alone and-“

“In the nicest way, shut up. It’s not your fault… and I’m sorry your finding it hard.” She hummed at that, as she wiggled down in the bed, getting a little more comfortable. “It’s late though love, why don’t you try get some sleep?”

“I like talking to you though.” She pouted in such a child like manner, making Tom laugh softly as he ran his fingers through his hair.

“I do too but we can do that tomorrow. Call me whenever yeh?”

“But Tom!” She quickly sneaked in, worried he was about to hang up on her… which of course he was not. “Will you stay on the phone for a bit? Just till I’m a bit um asleep?”

And that’s what they did, Tom whispering little stories about nothing until he was very sure she was deeply asleep - her chest rising and falling slowly and rhythmically in his jumper. Yes, they were far away geographically and yes, she clearly was having a hard time. But they’d get through it together.

Even if together meant through the ingenious invention of FaceTime.

[amxranthiine]

e t h e r e a l (ron weasley x poc!reader)

ethereal (adj.) extremely delicate light, not of this world Pronouns: She/her

Request: Hiiiii! Can I request a Ron weasley x sweet smart reader (if you do POC can she be black?) and she’s a slytherin and friends with a lot of people and has a huge crush on Ron and she’s pretty sarcastic when she needs to be and hermoine is jealous of her because Ron really likes reader and she’s really pretty and smart and Ron plans on confessing to her but hermoine confronts reader trying to tell her she’s not good enough for Ron but reader is headstrong and doesn’t care cuz she loves ron to much and Hermoine and Ron get into an argument about it with her telling him she loves him but he doesn’t feel the same way and asks reader out later she says yes and hermoine is heartbroken(I’m sorry that’s so long I get pretty detailed😭)

A/n: Ahhhh! My first request!! Thank you so much for requesting this darling! Set in third year, the reader is a Slytherin. I’m so sorry if this isn’t what you wanted, I struggled with her being sweet. I had to make it a little angsty, sorry about that! 2.3k words of solid chaos, please enjoy!

Warnings: Bullying? Light swearing? Angst, then a bit of *fluff*, one f-bomb.

Summary: The reader is a POC Slytherin, who is in love with her friend, Ron Weasley. After an awful day, and a run in with his obsessed best friend, can she win the love she desires? (I’m so bad at summaries I’m sorry)

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ Y/n’s POV “What on Earth are you looking at, L/n?” A voice says to my left. A voice that belonged to Draco Malfoy. I snap out of my lovesick gaze and clear my throat, trying desperately not to blush. I had been staring at my longtime crush and friend, Ron Weasley, for the past five minutes. I thought I was being subtle, not that that matters anyway. Ron barely acknowledges my presence and Malfoy notices everything.  I would have been more scared if it were Granger who had caught me. Merlin knows she hates me for no reason at all, other than the fact that, you know, my robes are green instead of red. Oh, and she knows I like Ron. Bloody brilliant. Her catching my heart eyes would send me flying straight off the Astronomy Tower. She would be the one pushing me. It’s not that Hermione is a bad person, per say. It’s just, she’s a little... Possessive when it comes to her friends. Ron, specifically. She hates Slytherins with a passion solely because of Malfoy and his bag of rats, which is understandable. I just don’t understand why we’re hated for being cunning and ambitious, not all of us are dabbling in the dark arts! Malfoy pinched my dark skin, “I asked you a question, blood traitor.” Of course, because I’m friend with Muggleborns and Half-bloods, that automatically makes a traitor. Almost as bad as actually being a Muggleborn. Recoiling slightly, I lie. “I wasn’t looking at anything, Malfoy. I was merely thinking about the Potions essay that’s due on Wednesday.” On the outside, I may have looked annoyed, which I kind of was. But on the inside, I was trembling like a terrified doe. Merlin, why couldn’t he mind his own business? Playing with a strand of my dark hair, I sighed in exasperation. Malfoy snorts from beside me, “That’s a lie and you know it. Everyone knows you could rival that Mudblood Granger with how smart you are.” He spits out Hermione’s name as if it’s poison. I blush at the compliment (at least, I think it was a compliment) and look down and my hands. My green nail-polish contrasted nicely against my chocolate skin and Slytherin robes.  Inhaling sharply, I take a leap of faith and glance over at the Gryffindor table, only to find the man of the hour already looking in my direction with anger and hurt written all over his face. He then looked to my left, where the blonde ferret was sitting, and his hurt turned to fury. If looks could kill, Malfoy would be cremated in a second, just from the look Ron was giving him. My heart jumped to my throat, and I could feel my pulse everywhere. Why is he giving him that look? Why is he angry with me? What did I do?  Draco noticed my attention was no longer fully on him, and followed my eyes to the redhead. A look of realization crosses his face, and suddenly, he’s cackling. “Him? L/n, are you mentally deficient? He’s a Weasley! A blood traitor! He’s friends with Potter!” His words have a sense of venom to them, even if he’s laughing. I glared at him with cold eyes, “Listen, love, I have no reason to dislike Potter, unlike you. I also have no reason to dislike Ron, in fact I quite enjoy his presence. So, if you would please drop the matter and go on with your life, I would be thankful.” Malfoy’s face morphed into one of anger and disbelief. Sure, we may be friends, but I don’t deal with his crap just because he’s rich and a Malfoy. Luckily, or unluckily, Pansy Parkinson saved me from his wrath. “Yeah, okay Y/n, you’ve been in love with him since first year, everyone can see it!” She snorts, and the entire Slytherin table erupts into giggles. “That is, everyone but the Weasel,” She adds on. My face is as red as Ron’s hair and I feel my eyes tear up. Was it true? Did everyone know? I look around the room for a second, only to see Hermione glaring at me with a raised brow. I look away quickly. Malfoy is practically wheezing from how hard he’s laughing, “Honestly, Y/n, do you really think you have a chance with him? He and Granger practically eloped the day we got here! You would be crazy to think you actually stood-” He stops talking when I stand up, tears streaming down my face. “You can burn in hell, all of you.” I whisper, my voice breaking. Everyone suddenly has a look of guilt on their faces, and I look at Ron one last time. I can tell he’s concerned, but I don’t need him. “Wait, Y/n, it was just a joke!” “Merlin, she’s so dramatic.” “Y/n, where are you going? We were just kidding!” I hear yells and shouts from the Slytherin table as I sprint out of the Great Hall. But what really got to me, was the one thing I heard from the dreaded Gryffindor table. “Look at her, pathetic isn’t she? She can’t even take a joke! Ronald wher-” Bloody Granger. Bloody Malfoy. I turn the corner and slump against the wall, sliding onto the ground with my legs straight out in front of me. I struggle to breathe, the sobs are coming out too harshly. I was a liked person in my year, with plenty of friends. At this moment, though, it seemed as if everyone hated me. I tried to muffle the sound of my cries with my hand, but to no avail.  “Y/n! Are you alright?” I eyes dash to the sound of the familiar voice, and quickly wipe my eyes when I see Ron running towards me. “Y-Yeah...” I mutter, “I’m fine.” My lungs hurt from holding back my cries, my lips quivering from the familiar sting in my throat. Ron sat down beside me, my eyes meeting everything but his own. “You’ve always been a bad liar,” he chuckles slightly. I could feel the blood rush to my cheeks. “Have not,” I mumble. As much as I craved his presence, I was not in the mood for games. I looked down at my hands, something that was quickly becoming a nervous habit. Luckily he must have sensed that I didn’t want to talk about what just happened, and stayed silent for what seemed like eternity. Ron examined me for a moment, he was nervous, just like me. I didn’t know what he had to be nervous about, it wasn’t like he liked me as anything more than a friend... “Y/n...” He whispered, I hummed in acknowledgment, looking at him. “I-I just want to say,” He stuttered, “I don’t care that you’re a Slytherin. I know that may seem impossible because I’m a Weasley, and a Gryffindor, but...” He trailed off and took a deep breath, “ I-I care about you...” My head shot up so fast, I’m surprised I didn’t get whiplash. My heart was thumping against my ribcage harder than ever, and my stomach felt weak. “R-Ron?” I whispered, not wanting to believe my ears or what my brain was trying to desperately to tell me. He likes you, you idiot! Why can’t you see it?  He bit his lip and closed his eyes, something I would have found absolutely adorable if I wasn’t about to faint. “Y/n, I-” “Ronald!” Yelled a high pitched voice. My heart (and spirits) dropped and I sighed. Here we go. “Where have you been? We’re going to be late!” Hermione yelled. “Coming, ‘Mione,” Ron called after her. He looked at me apologetically, though he also looked... pained? “Ronald! Stop talking to the snake and hurry up!” She shouted again, and my rage levels increased drastically with those few words. Ron squeezed my hand to try and calm me, or to stop me from pulling out his best friend’s hair. “Bloody hell, woman! I’m coming!” He turned to me, “Bye, Y/n, see you later.” With a small wave, he was off. It was later that night, I was walking back to the dungeons after hours in the library, writing my Potions essay. Humming a tune I don’t remember the name off, I was slightly spaced out as I strolled along the familiar corridors. What wasn’t familiar, though, was the wand at my neck. Hermione-fucking-Granger was standing right in front of me in all her brilliant glory. Her perfect defensive stance with her wand right in my face. “Hello, Hermione,” I say, trying to stay calm. She scoffs, a disgusted look painted on her face. “Don’t ‘hello, Hermione,’ me L/n,” She practically spits. I shrug, and try to move around her. “Okay, then goodnight, Granger.”  She still blocks my path. “What’s going on with you and Ron?” There is an edge to her voice that tells me there are no right answers. I am genuinely confused and befuddled, “Nothing is going on between Ron and I?” I state, though it sounds more like a question. What on Earth made her think that someone was going on between Ron and I? I mean... I wouldn’t complain if something was going on, but alas; absolutely nothing. I suppose that answer only made her angrier; “That’s bullshit.” “Is it?” I question, trying to push her buttons. She scoffs again and pushes her wand closer to my face, “Ron is mine. Not yours, mine. Stay away from him, or you’ll regret it.” I was raging at this point, but I couldn’t say anything... harsh to her, because Merlin forbid anything happen to the Brightest Witch of our year. So, instead of potentially harming my crushes obsessed best friend, I settled with, “Yeah, okay, whatever Hermione. Can I leave now?” Seemingly satisfied with my answer, she steps aside and watches as I walk away. “I’ll be watching you, L/n,” She says, trying to threaten me. I just snort. “I’m counting on it, Granger,” I call back and pranced away. Internally I was screaming, what would she do to me? Why is she so obsessed with him? Is she so jealous that she feels the need to threaten any girl that even comes close to her precious Ronald? Yes, she is.  The next few days, I avoided Ron like the plague. He knew I was avoiding him, too. Anytime he was within fifteen feet of me, I turned around and practically ran the opposite direction. It didn’t help that Granger had such a smug smirk on her face whenever I saw her. All I wanted to do was shove my middle finger in her face and call it a wand.  It was getting increasingly difficult to ignore Ron, and I didn’t know how much longer I could keep up with it. The longing stares when no one was watching, to the daydreams of what we could be during class- I couldn’t stay away. One night, I was- once again- walking back to the Slytherin common after hours in the library. Only, it wasn’t a wand in my face that made me pause. No, it was the distinct sound of arguing around the corner. Curious, I tip-toed towards the noise, trying to be as quiet as possible. Which was hard because of the echoing halls of Hogwarts, but somehow I wasn’t caught. “Why would you do that, Hermione?!” A very familiar voice yelled. “Because, Ronald, she’s a Slytherin!” Hermione yelled back. “That cannot be the only reason! She’s the nicest Slytherin there is! You don’t own me, ‘Mione! You have no right to decide things like that!” Ron was fuming, I could tell just by the sound of his voice. Somehow, I knew they were talking about me. I was the only Slytherin Ron could tolerate. “Fine, you want to know the reason? I love you, Ron! She was getting in the way!” Merlin, I really should stop listening before I start crying. “Getting in the way of what?!” “Us!” “There is no ‘us,’ Hermione! I don’t love you, I love Y/n! And you deliberately sought her out... And threatened her?! Bloody hell, you’re completely mental!” Ron was practically screaming at this point, he was so mad. I was completely shocked, he loved me? He loved me?! Am I dreaming? Apparently my gasp was louder than I thought, because both Ron and Hermione turned in my direction. Well, shit, I can’t run now. “You love me...?” I whisper. My mind couldn’t wrap itself around that fact. My tummy was swarmed with butterflies, my feet tingled and my hands were completely numb. I couldn’t believe it. Ron just stared at me, mouth opening and closing like a fish. “I-... I... Urm... Y-eah.. I do,” I could have laughed at his attempt to speak, but I was completely dumbfounded. Not trusting my voice, I raced over to him. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pulled him into a kiss. This kiss... it was something ethereal. It was slow and passionate, but full of love and desire. There was nothing else like it. Our mouths moved in sync for what seemed like forever. I didn’t want it to end. His hands traveled from my waist to my face, cupping my cheeks gently as he towered over me. Alas; all good things must come to an end. Unfortunately we have lungs that feel the need to burn when you don’t breathe. Pulling apart slowly, I smile at him, genuinely smile. His cheeks are almost as red as his robes, and his hair ruffled from my hands running through it. “I take it you love me too?” He asks, smiling just as wide as I am. I nod, and giggles flow out of my mouth from how happy I am. He looks like he’s in a daze, “Bloody hell, Y/n, you’re brilliant.”  “Y/n L/n, will you be my girlfriend?” He doesn’t leave my embrace as he asks this. I gasp, “Yes! Merlin, yes!” Jumping into his arms at lightning speed. A quiet cry is heard from the right of us, and we look over to see Hermione, a hand over her mouth and tear stains on her cheeks. Ron shrugs, “Sorry, ‘Mione!”