#and I feel like they’ll be better than anything I ever wrote in school through the sheer power of hyperfixation

[moonsanoverthinker]

Guys the hyperfixation has gotten to the point where I’m considering writing whole character analysis essays…

[0-animelover-0]

Hi! Do you do oneshots? If you do could you do a oneshot with Violet Parr x gender neutral reader from the incredibles? Where the reader is sad or upset about something and Violet ( and maybe some of the other Parr family members) try cheer the reader up?

Sad/Upset S/O (With Violet)

A/N: Of course! :) I haven't wrote for her in a while so I hope it's alright👍.

I'm sorry if it's too short.

She saw you hunched over with teary eyes and a glum expression. Her black eyebrows scrunched up in concern. She went to you and sat beside you, placing her hand on your upper arm. "Y/n? Are you alright?"

You nodded with a deep sigh and kept your face buried in your hands. School had gotten too much for you. All the stress from grades to classwork and homework, was so much at once. You felt like burying yourself in a hole and living there for eternity. "It's school...very stressful lately."

She sighed “I get it. Sometimes I feel like we have so much to learn! The teachers go so fast, I can’t keep up. I just want to crawl into a hole and never come out sometimes…”

She paused

“Do you want a hug?”

You peeked through your fingers and wet lashes. With a slow nod, you murmured under your breath,"Yes. That sounds nice right about now."

She leaned in and pulled you close to hug close. She held you tight and rubbed your back lightly with her slender hands. Violet had always known just how to comfort when someone was in need. She was always very caring, so much so that it came naturally.

“Everything is going to be alright. I’m here for you.” Violet pulled back and gave you a warm smile.

You sniffled as her eyes gleamed with tears and you wiped at your tear-stained cheeks. You felt comforted by her warmth. She was your best friend along with being your amazing girlfriend. She was your safe place. "...Thank you."

“Of course, Y/N. I’ll do whatever I can to make you feel better.” She smiled.

“If you ever need to talk, or if you want comfort, you can always come to me, okay? I want you to know that I’m here for you.” She gave you another hug.

You wrapped your arms around her skinny torso and nuzzled into the crook of her neck. "I know."

She smiled “I’m glad you do. Are you sure you don’t want to come with me after school? We could do something to take your mind off school, like shopping, for instance. Anything to get your mind to stop thinking about homework…”

Violet was known for coming up with ways to divert her worries and worries onto other things. Anything to make her friends and loved ones happy.

Your face brightened at the thought of spending time with her instead of doing your stupid biology homework. You nodded curtly and smiled at the teen girl. "Yes, please! That sounds great."

Violet smiled widely. Her plan worked. Now, she just needed to think of something to do. Shopping was a good idea. They could go to the mall and look at clothes, and talk, maybe even go to the movies or out for ice cream.

“Great!” Violet said, a big grin on her face. “Is there anywhere you want to go?"

You crossed your legs and your hands fiddled with each other. You smiled sheepishly at her words. "Can we go to the mall? I really like this one store."

Violet's face brightened even further with excitement, and she jumped a little with joy. "YES! I think that's a perfect idea." She grabbed her purse and slung it over her shoulder. Violet was a planner, after all, so she always had the essentials with her when she left the house.

"Are you sure your parents won't mind dropping us off?"

“Why would they mind?” Violet asked, tilting her head. “They love you! They’ll totally be okay with it.”

Violet’s parents were always very accepting of their daughter’s friends, and they would always want the best for them. They knew Violet was a safe option for her friends, and they felt happy that Violet was always able to make her friends happy by being herself.

You sat up further and your face seemed less glum than it was before. You adored Helen and Bob. They always welcomed you into their home with open arms. It always made you happy that they accepted you as yourself. "Alright then. Let me get ready and we'll go."

"Awesome!" Violet replied enthusiastically. She loved hanging out with her partner, but she especially loved helping them. She watched closely as you headed up to change. Violet was already ready to go, so she simply twiddled her thumbs for a moment until you came back downstairs.

You returned with your chosen outfit and walked back into the hallway.

Violet looked you up and down and smiled before standing up, grabbing the keys off the hook by the door. “You look great!” Violet said warmly, reaching for your hand. “Shall we?”

Violet was a hopeless romantic, and she couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face when she saw you all dressed up. Violet had always liked your sense of fashion. Your style was different from everyone else’s, and that is what Violet liked about you. You were always so special.

You squeezed her hand and smiled up/down at your super girlfriend. "We shall."

[amalgamgooze]

amalgam stew ii

“When I woke up this morning, I saw the whole world staring back at me. Bored, I went back to sleep.”

=====================

It’s that time again where I feel so much all at once that it becomes a delicious thought soup. I’ve found writing helps with it.

My classmates really like my writing so far, at least in the excerpts from the story I’m sharing with the class. They claim it makes them think, and that it’s so outrageously unique that it’s hard to believe I wasn’t on drugs when I wrote it.

Hah. I wish I was.

Pretty much everyone around me has told me that if they didn’t know me better, they’d assume I was on drugs. I’m not sure how to feel about that. I’m also not sure how to respond when it’s a teacher telling me that. The drug changes every time too—this time it was psychedelics. Welp. It’ll be interesting to see what happens when I finally do end up drinking and all that fun stuff.

But not yet. I still have a reputation to uphold. I think many people around me really like me for some reason, though I can’t say what I’ve done specifically to earn this respect.

Tomorrow I read my commencement speech in front of the Panel of Judgement, something my parents have already familiarized me with extensively. That is, my parents are very judgmental. Now look at me. I’ve assumed my reader is a moron. I’m sorry, reader.

Back to the speech. I’ve practiced it a bit, but not in front of anyone yet. That’s less-than-ideal. Oh well. I’ve seen one of the other kids practicing it obsessively. I wonder how they’ll feel when I beat them anyway.

Hah. Like I’ll win anyway. It’s hard to be confident in your own speech when you’ve gone through ten-ish years of speech therapy and still never officially “graduated” from it.

…

Then again, I did ace all of my Environmental Geoscience presentations last year, as well as doing lots of public speaking in front of important people with lots of money convincing them to donate to hospitals and schools.

But I’ve started bragging again. Look at me again. I’ve never done Model UN or Mock Trial, which many of these other candidates have done. All I do is sit on my ‘puter and do some science. And volleyball.

I embarrassed the opposing team at practice today with a series of incredible blocks and plays. It was honestly a great feeling. I feel a sadistic nature growing in me—I took pleasure in watching that team endure their punishment for sucking so bad against me. This isn’t the me I’m used to, but maybe it’s something that needs to be explored more.

Why am I publicizing this? Why am I willingly publishing the fact that I’m evil sometimes? Here’s a good answer—nobody I know will likely ever read this, or care enough to act on it. And anyway, it’s a prankster sort of sadistic as opposed to a psychopath sort of sadistic. Not that I’d ever intentionally plan to make anyone suffer—it’s just that my actions, which were applauded, also directly led to the compounded punishment of my victims, which also gave me guilty pleasure.

Whatever. I didn’t really have that much power in that situation. “My” “victims” are literally just players on my volleyball team that had to run sprints because I blocked them a million times. I’m no evil mastermind or “king of the shadows” or anything edgy like that.

…

It’s weird actually caring about winning this commencement speech contest and being stressed about speaking. Every other speech I’d ever done had seemed so low-stakes—why’s this one bothering me so much? I suppose I just have to like, embody clarity or something like that.

…

Again, I’ve got a funny feeling that my speech is probably gonna win, but still… it’s just this sort of like, 70% chance of success (in actuality, if they pick at random, it’s a 20% chance, but I’m feeling confident right now) where I can’t really say “ah, well I’m probably not gonna win anyway” or “I’m definitely going to win!”.

…

This speech is driving me peanut-butter-jelly-sandwich insane.

[forkingmyself]

#1: i’m afraid of myself and i hate it (it’s a lyric. sounds like something my musty emo teen ass would say but its a lyric.)

I wanted to come up with something original for my blog, but, well... can’t think of anything. And my main reason of starting this blog was because I want to vent and rant and go batshit insane. I’m not doing this to be creative and incredible and fabulous and a good writer.

I like to fork myself was the title of late Daul Kim’s blog. She was magnificent, I loved her work and I think she was veeeery pretty. I’ve always enjoyed reading her posts and I still do it up until now. I was going through her entries and thought, hm, maybe I should write something too. Maybe then when I finally killed myself for real someone would comment, damn, they were gone too soon. Then maybe some rando would comment lol glad she killed herself. Whatever. I don’t care. Perhaps I do want to be remembered in a way and I want to leave something in this world. 

Perhaps that’s because I just enjoy attention very much. Perhaps I just want everyone to know they’ve done me wrong and if I ever killed myself they’re responsible for it and I want them to feel guilty about it. But perhaps I’m just a silly little girl with silly little thoughts also <3

ANYWAAAAYY. About the title. I listened to plenty of Keshi back then when I was in junior high school. He wasn’t as big as he is right now (which is good for him and for everyone, of course. I’m the opposite of gatekeeper. I want people to give love to people who deserve lots of it) and I was like, “damn, would be great if I could see this guy live” and boom. He toured to Jakarta a while ago. I couldn’t afford the tickets, though, and I don’t really listen to his new releases so I ended up not going.

Well, I still listen to him from time to time. I used to love xoxosos, the reaper, and onoffonoff a lot. An awful lot. I KNOW. Girl you were barely sixteen you don’t need to be listening to all that BUT I had my first lesbian breakup and bitch it really was that bad. And, well, now that I had another one... I find myself completely fucked. That’s how I end up listening to songs-that-certainly-fucks-me-bad-in-the-head again.

I just wrote something romantic and tender. Hell. Who was I kidding? Age gap relationships don’t work.

They’ll eventually find people around their age. Even if with you things line up perfectly, there’s someone out there who can provide better. Better and easier. No need to wait for them to catch up with you. Or, well, to put it harshly: they’ll find someone they can fuck without feeling much guilt. Damn. I wish it’s that easy for me to find someone to fuck...

When I say I’m a Lana girl I don’t mean just the cigarettes for breakfast and the dainty outfits. I like old ass people LIKE I always fucking let myself get fucked by people way older than me I never fucking learn. At this point I think I’ve developed a kink for it and I wish I was kidding. I simply have no self respect. I genuinely think this will happen again because... yeah... perhaps I’m enjoying it. Because I’m a masochist a pervert a fuck up a everything bad and horrible.

I should go to therapy but I’m so ashamed of this. Of everything that ever happened to me. I have no difficulties writing it but saying it out loud with my mouth, while presenting myself as this wretched body and face, saying this as an ugly ass disgusting person and not just some stranger on the internet... would be embarrassing.

I’m just so embarrassed of myself. Really.

Aaaah. This is so naive but I actually can’t wait to grow up! I know it will be hard, I know, but let me be, okay. I want to have a job. I want to have money. I know it will be hard and I might want to take it back, but the idea of having something to look forward to is... great. I suppose. I don’t know what I want to be. I was never passionate in this field and I don’t have strong opinions about anything. People around me are so incredible and so passionate about making changes, while I just sorta... float. I’m barely getting by. I think my grades will drop this semester lol I don’t give a fuck about anything anymore. I wish I could be so incredible and amazing that people who left me will regret doing so but damn... I... don’t care. They were right for leaving me because I’m a good for nothing!

I think for now I’m setting my goal on a divorce lawyer. I want to help women escape hell.

Maybe I’ll kill myself but for now things in my life are going well! I had a breakdown over noodles yesterday. I made noodles and left some for my parents when they come back, but they didn’t eat it. I ended up eating it myself and cried. But earlier my Dad said he was saving it for this morning, and when he checked the dining table, the noodles are gone... I said I ate it. He said he wanted to eat it. I was happy.

I love him... I love my family. I feel bad for turning to this. I really want to make them proud. I want to get a nice job and pay for things and buy them nice stuff before I leave them forever because well religions are non negotiable I suppose. 

I WANT TO BE HAPPY!!!!!!!!!!!

AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I really do like I’m not kidding

I don’t know what kind happy I was thinking of when I said that, but just... happy. Myself. Having a pink hair and wearing a tank top that shows my massive tits so I would stop being so embarrassed of myself. Not covering up. Not hiding.. not embarrassed of myself... and with a gf too. Aaaaaaahhhhh I want it so bad.

Anyway. So. Yeah. Let’s just stick around and see! :)

[bratz-kitten]

ASTRO OBSERVATIONS [part 5]

— people with jupiter in the 8th may experience an “abundance” of traumatic experiences throughout life, often relating to death; these are the people who truly feel like everyone they love ends up dying. at their worst, they can become desensitized to death— jupiter is ruled by sagittarius, a sign known for being in denial when in difficult situations in favor of optimism. these natives can pretend like nothing actually happened, or minimize the situation in their head so that they don’t have to face it.

— okay this might be a weird one... like, you know in asoiaf when arya was walking through the streets and was always like “i’m as quiet as a shadow”? that’s literally the energy of someone with planets in the 12th house/chart ruler in the 12th house. these people are so stealthy. they’re able to move so quietly and without anyone noticing, both literally and figuratively. on one hand, they’re very quiet about their plans and ambitions to the point where other people only find out when they’re achieving success over it; on the other hand, they just. don’t like making noise while walking idk bitch you’ll only see me coming when i’m right beside you, i even get paranoid that i’m breathing too loud and that other people will hear 

— people with moon aspecting mars can be incredibly impulsive when they feel hurt or triggered. yall need to be careful with doing things in the heat of the moment that you know you’ll regret later... but in the moment, you feel so hurt that it clouds your rational side. please be more self-aware about this because you may make decisions that will directly affect you for the worse in the future 

— people with leo mars ft. constantly asking you for pictures... about anything. they just wanna SEE LMFAO THEY DON’T CARE WHAT IT IS THEY’RE SEEING. you just got ready to go out? “send pics of your makeup and your full outfit”. you’re waiting in a long boring line to get the covid vaccine? “send pics of the line”. your mom baked cake? “send pics of the cake”. plus they send so many random pictures while texting, it’s their special love language

— having moon conjunct moon/venus in synastry feels insane. you tell them something you’ve been through, and they’re immediately like “that happened with me as well.” it doesn’t even have to be something grand, sometimes just very specific things you thought were particular about you. the amount of understanding that comes with this aspect in synastry can feel very new and intense especially if you’re used to seeing yourself as the “odd one out”, used to feeling isolated in your experiences 

— people with pluto in the 1st house often feel the need to erase “traces” of their existence, for example deleting messages that they sent people, deleting all of their social media posts. they can feel anxious and paranoid about other people having access to their past self, even if the past self in question is from, like. a week ago 

— people with chiron in the water houses (4th/8th/12th) might’ve suffered bullying to the point where they repress their memories. a lot of their memories of their school years may feel foggy if they were bullied in those years

— also. people with chiron in the 8th house may feel as though they’ve been punished for wanting to experience intimacy. it’s like, the people who were supposed to be the closest to them – for example, their sibling or something – were the ones who hurt them the most. 

— people with mercury-neptune aspects and strong pisces/neptune energy in their birth chart might struggle with only remembering things when they’re right in front of them. you should keep things in your peripheral vision to remind you of reality, especially when it comes to feelings— so that you won’t start getting lost inside your own head. like... keep the letters your friends wrote you by your bedside table so you can read them every time your brain starts convincing you that you’re not loved. keep the gifts you’ve been sent on display in your bedroom wall, or sentimental material things that remind you of past happy experiences.

— earth placements and their thing for asmr... omfg. it’s like they’re always looking for things to up their sensory experience/sensitivity. like, earth signs are the ones most connected to worldly experiences so they feel so soothed with the whole asmr experience: just hearing someone gently whispering or tapping on/scratching things calms them down and helps them fall asleep. they love the tingles it’s heaven for them

— moon-saturn aspects might hold and caress themselves while they sleep because their parents never did. yes i woke up and chose violence <3 your secret is NOT safe with me 💋

— while we’re on the topic of sleeping, a majority of the pisces moons i know need to sleep while hugging something, at least a pillow. they can’t just not hug something while they sleep, it’s very instinctive for them. anyways if any pisces moon needs a pillow to hold, i volunteer as tribute 💋

— virgo placements feel sososo soothed by hearing their cats purr. thinking about how my virgo placement friends are always the ones who send me videos of them petting their cats... and then i get soothed by how soothed they feel. it’s a win win situation, if you have virgo placements it’s hereby your duty to send me a video of you petting your cat while they purr. right now. GO

— people with gemini in the 3rd house might have shaky movements of the hands when other people look at them doing things. very specific i know but the third house rules hands and gemini is a sign that has somewhat of an anxious, twitchy quality to it. on the other hand, people with capricorn in the 3rd house (scorpio risings, using whole signs) have the steadiest hands i’ve ever seen lol their movements ooze confidence, these bitches know how to make you feel as thought they know exactly what they’re doing

— people with venus in the 1st house ft. altering their pics with photoshop and hating posting selfies without filters because they never feel like their appearance is good enough. stop it. you don’t need to always look your best and especially not if your ‘best’ isn’t even what you actually look like. also... don’t even think about making self-deprecative jokes about your appearance. next time i find one of yall saying “ahaha im not bad for a 5 without talent” i’m squishing your head between 2 pieces of toast and calling you an idiot sandwich. you’re BEAUTIFUL 

— having venus in the 3rd house in composite with someone? do you mean calling each other the absolute ugliest nicknames in the most endearing way? 

— leo deals with themes of the ego, and it seems that leo placements often struggle with attracting narcissistic people into their life... leo suns/mercuries can be raised by loud, overbearing, narcissistic parents who see their kid as an extension of themselves and who teach the kid to always be very supportive and caring towards them or else they’ll deny them of words of affirmation-- either by insulting them to shatter their self-esteem or simply never complimenting the kid back. leo moons/mars/venus tend to attract narcissistic partners who only care about serving their own emotional needs and ignore the ones of their partner, and who feed off of their supportive and giving nature. which is why leo placements really need to watch out for being gullible, naïve and dismissing the red flags because my god, you be falling for some shady people. 

— people with personal planets in the 12th house/chart ruler in the 12th house might feel like they can’t let go of their past life— they may dream of memories, people or places from another life. it’s like they can’t detach from it, and even if they can’t directly remember their past life, it’s like they feel it in their bones. also, they might’ve felt... estranged from their family ever since childhood; there may have been feelings of being unable to emotionally connect to their (often, distant) parents, and they might’ve even wondered if they were adopted because of how different they felt to the rest of the family. 

— okay so, a thing that people with saturn in the 3rd house need to look out for is mentally checking out of conversations while they’re still happening. these people can detect when they’re being manipulated really fast and their way of dealing with it can be to immediately shut down, to grow cold and silent and not even bother answering when you’re expected to respond. and, like, that’s great when someone starts screaming at you or being insulting/trying to coerce you into shit, but take notice if you find yourself shutting your loved ones out as soon as they say anything that triggers you. don’t simply detach from them, communicate what’s wrong

— aries placements, ESPECIALLY aries suns and moons, value generosity so much and they get so turned off by stingy ppl who don’t share with others, especially when others need it. like.. if you’re hanging out in a group with them and someone asks for a bite of your food because they have no money and you say no... espect them to never respect you. ever. 

— people with libra placements use soooo many adjectives to describe things. something can’t just be beautiful, it has to be DIVINE and CELESTIAL and INTOXICATING. they can be so expressive god it’s so fcking funny 

— capricorn placements HATE asking others for advice because they think no one knows better than them (and they’re not wrong, lol). when they truly care for someone, they might ask the person for advice simply as a sign that they respect, trust and value their judgement. even if they don’t plan on taking it LMFAO 

— people with mars in a water sign can have this terrible habit of expecting other people to guess what they want. and then they get passive agressive when you don’t instinctively feel what it is they want... and when you ask them “do you want this?”, they go like “FINALLY. i thought you’d never get there”. stop it. i know that you want people to understand you in a way that transcends words, but you can’t expect people to read your mind and then get disappointed when they don’t, thinking “oh if they loved me that much then they would’ve known that i really want chipotle for dinner :(” GIRL WHAT. COMMUNICATE YOUR NEEDS  

[shihalyfie]

Regarding Konaka’s influence on Tamers (or how much he actually didn’t have)

(Rest assured that if you’ve had a conversation with me recently about this issue, I’m not vaguing you; this conversation has come up a lot in the last few weeks, especially in my private chats, so this is just me deciding that I should write something about this for once since it’s been weighing on my head lately.)

I think, right now, with what happened regarding the DigiFes debacle, a lot of people are having complicated feelings about how to feel about Tamers, and this is completely understandable. I think there are also some things that may be inevitably unavoidable, such as starting to second-guess certain nuances in the series and what they might lead to. All of that is perfectly reasonable, and in the end, it’s going to be up to everyone to decide how they feel.

In light of this, a lot of people have been bringing up the fact that, while Konaka was the head writer, he was by no means the only person working on it. This is very much true, but I’d like to add something else to the equation: this is an issue that goes much deeper than the usual claiming death of the author for the sake of sanity. The full picture is that Konaka has always had much less influence on the series than the fanbase tends to attribute to him. Official statements have been very clear as to not attribute the entire series to him, and, among all the other controversial statements he’s made, Konaka himself has at least been very active about crediting the other staff members as far as their influence on the series! The idea that he was the only person who ever did anything substantial for Tamers is something I’ve been warning against since long before any of this happened (if you want proof, I have a post from April with this sentiment in it), and right now we just happen to be seeing what’s basically the worst possible outcome of the fanbase constantly worshipping him like the only real creative heart behind the series to borderline cult-like levels...when that’s never been true, and has resulted in unfairly taking credit away from people who deserved it.

I’ll go into detail below, and I hope this can help people understand the situation better and sort out how they feel about it.

Note that I make references to his infamous blog in this post, which I’m deliberately refraining from directly linking for obvious reasons, but all of the information is still there, so it should be verifiable if you decide to look for it yourself.

Personally, I’ve always found it really bizarre how there’s been this obsession with portraying Konaka as some kind of auteur whom the entirety of Tamers depended on. I’m not saying this out of spite towards him, because, again, even he himself was very insistent on disclaiming credit for things he wasn’t actually responsible for (he was quite humble in this respect, actually). Not to mention that I think it’s a mistake in general to constantly pin a single person in a multi-person production as the sole heart behind it, and the Digimon fanbase has historically had this strange double standard behind it when it comes to uplifting him as the only heart behind Tamers when nobody says that about any of the head writers for...anything else. (How many times has Nishizono’s name ever popped up when talking about Adventure? People are usually more obsessed with talking about Kakudou or Seki.) Konaka’s work is certainly distinctive, but Tamers had a lot more going on besides just that.

In fact, based on his own statements on the matter and all of the other official information we’ve gotten about Tamers production, while you can’t really quantify such things, it’s generally been estimated that Konaka was responsible for something like only a fourth of the series. Which is an incredibly low amount compared to what the fanbase would have told you before all of this happened, because of this fixation that he must be the genius mastermind behind the whole series. Not only that, this “brilliant auteur” image of him was so inflated that people were attributing way more of 02 to him than he deserved; 02 episode 13 was the only thing he contributed to the series and he was specifically brought on as a “guest writer”, and the overall plot of the episode was determined by the rest of the production staff and not him -- but ask the fanbase and they’ll tell you stories about how he invented some grand planned arc for 02 that got cancelled, or even that Tamers exists because of a “writer revolt” from him and other writers not being allowed to do what they wanted. (You know, as much as I understand 02′s a controversial series, it would be really nice if people didn’t make up completely baseless stories like this just to scapegoat it...)

I honestly cannot emphasize enough how much of the problem we’re in right now has been horribly enabled by the weird pedestal the fanbase has been putting him on. This is to the point where there’s even been a double standard where some of the more unpopular/criticized elements of Tamers must not have been the fault of a brilliant writer like him, and in fact was forced on him by the executives (this excuse had always been brought up anytime someone doesn’t like something about Tamers, just to make sure the image of him as a perfect writer was maintained). Turns out, as per his own admission on the infamous blog, while he wasn’t the one who initially had the idea of putting Ryou in, the part that rubbed the fanbase the wrong way -- that he came in as an accomplished senior who was better than everyone and played up by everyone in the cast -- was unabashedly his idea (he apparently was enamored with the idea of having someone like Tuttle from the movie Brazil). Again, this is a weird scenario where even Konaka himself has been more humble about this issue than the fanbase’s perception of him; he fully admitted whenever he had trouble writing certain parts. For instance, he doesn’t actually like writing about alternate worlds, felt they were out of his comfort zone, and only wrote in the Digital World because the franchise needs one; he’d stated that if he’d had his way, the Digital World arc wouldn’t have come in as early as it did, which might be a pretty shocking statement for a Digimon fan to hear.

If you want even more specifics, here are some extremely major parts of the series that Konaka was not actually the one behind:

The character backgrounds. Konaka stated on his blog that he wasn’t interested in going too much into character backstories because he felt it was too plot-limiting to say that a character is the way they are thanks to something in their past or background (basically, he cares more about plot than character for the most part), and that he’s also not into worldbuilding. Certain things like Ruki going to a girls’ school were supplied by Seki, who infamously loves worldbuilding, family backgrounds, and character settings.

Certain nuances of Ruki’s character, especially the part where she’s pigeonholed into uncomfortable places due to being a girl, were informed by Yoshimura Genki, writer from Adventure and one of the head writers of 02 (who eventually would go on to create an entire career out of feminist cinema).

According to the posts on his blog, Impmon’s character arc didn’t have much input from Konaka himself and was largely written in by Maekawa Atsushi (also a writer from Adventure and one of the head writers of 02).

The whole concept of Yamaki being redeemable in the first place was something Konaka didn’t originally plan for; he’d initially intended to make him a straightforward antagonist, but, of all things, his Christmas song, combined with the input of the other writers (especially Maekawa) humanizing him, led to the development where Yamaki eventually changed sides and became sympathetic. (This makes Konaka’s recent stunt revolving around Yamaki a bit painfully ironic.)

The director, Kaizawa Yukio, was deliberately picked because he didn’t have experience on the prior series, for the sake of changing things up, and he spent Tamers as a period of studying what Digimon should be like. Based on what he’s hinted, it seems Konaka's writing style and choices were able to have as much influence as they did because Kaizawa approved of them -- that is to say, Konaka’s detailed imagery and descriptions were extensive enough that Kaizawa could go “sure, let’s go with that.” But in the end, nothing Konaka did would have gone through unless Kaizawa and Seki (among many others) didn’t also approve of it or provide input. Moreover, Kakudou Hiroyuki (director of Adventure and 02) has also been stated many times to have been a valuable consultant on invoking Digimon so that the new staff could understand what to aim for and how to get the right feel (and also assisted with providing stuff for the mythos, such as the Devas). Nevertheless, Kaizawa also seems to have had his own strong opinions and input on the story; he especially seems to get passionate when it comes to the topic of making the story something the kids watching it could relate to and imagine. (He would eventually go on to direct Frontier and Hunters, along with several episodes of the Adventure: reboot.)

So in other words, looking at this, a lot of these things that people emotionally connected to and loved about Tamers are things that literally were not his personal creation, and were largely contributed by the other writers! Of course, Konaka’s “creator thumbprint” is very obvious -- he was the head writer, after all -- and all of this had to go through his own vetting to make sure he personally liked it as well -- but nevertheless, you can see that this very much was a collaborative effort from head to toe, with him being very open about this fact himself. Insisting on making sure that this fact is well-known isn’t just a coping mechanism to try and remove his presence in the series, but rather a desire to get people to seriously stop giving him credit that really should be going to others (especially since, again, even he himself was very diligent about assigning that credit).

In the end, I’ll leave you with another thing to keep in mind: Konaka doesn’t get paid anymore for Tamers work (unless they make something new like the DigiFes thing), so continuing to buy Tamers merch and supporting the series through fanart and such will probably end up going more towards the Digimon IP as a whole. Basically, if we’re just talking about Tamers specifically, what degree this is going to matter is only really relevant to the content in the original series, which is now twenty years old and remains unchanged. By Konaka’s own admission, he wasn’t into all of these conspiracy theories until 2010 at the earliest, so while it’s understandable to be a bit wary about the themes in Tamers having traces of the base sentiment, the original series itself does not seem to be an outlet for alt-right propaganda, and it’s probably forcing it a bit much to read into it that way. Konaka’s also repeatedly insisted that all of his attempts at a Tamers sequel have been rejected and that he’s been doing increasingly strange swerves to get around members of the original cast not entirely being available, and the Japanese audience has turned out to not be very fond of the contents of the 2018 drama CD and the stage reading for reasons entirely separate from the politics, so it’s also unlikely we’ll be getting a Tamers sequel from him or something in the near future.

So -- at least for the time being -- what’s done with him is done, and the remaining question is how all of us feel about Tamers. I think everyone will have differing feelings on it, and that’s perfectly understandable. Personally, given everything I just said above, I’m going to continue treating it as a series very important to me, and one that many people (including, as it seems, a very different Konaka from twenty years ago) worked on with a lot of effort and love, although you may see me getting a bit more willing to be critical about the series and its themes thanks to my concerns about some of the sentiments in it and what they imply. I also completely understand that there are probably people whose associations are going to be much more hurt and who will have a much harder time seeing the series the same way ever again, and I think that’s reasonable as well. But at the very least, going forward, I hope all of us can understand the depth of this situation, give credit where it’s due, and not force credit where it’s not due.

[recurring-polynya]

Writing/Art Update 7/31/2022

I haven’t done one of these in a long time, mostly because I got myself all fired up to finish a little in love, and I tried, I really did. I made some progress on solidifying my outline and I wrote three entire chapters plus some additional dribs and drabs, but I also had trouble liking any of it, and I spent most of June being incredibly depressed. 

This happened two years ago when I just couldn’t bring myself to work on what eventually turned into What We Do with Our Hearts, (and ended up starting a little in love instead), and it’s not some huge mystery why this happened, it’s because my kids are home all the time. Writing for me, is a process that involves a lot of dissociation and being really deep in my own head, which is simply not compatible with the state of always keeping one ear open for one of the children trying to kill the other one, and who has had too much screens, and if it’s time for the seventeenth snack of the day, etc, etc. There was one week where both children went to camp, and it was amazing and I was able to think and do stuff, and feel human again and then it was over, and I went back to feeling like my head was stuffed with cotton and turpentine again.

Presumably, when they go back to school in a few weeks, I’ll feel better again, but it always feels so uncertain to be like this, like what if I’m just stupid now and will never make anything good ever again?

Anyway, in the meantime, as I’m sure you know, I have been working on the Tattoo Artist AU I started a few...years?...ago?? I had dusted it off this past winter and worked on it for a bit and then got stuck and subsequently distracted by something else at the time. Anyway, I had a whole outline for it, and some of my friends were excited about it, so I’ve been working on it, and it’s been...okay. It’s not my best writing for sure, but at least it’s something, and it feels a lot better than not writing.

Unfortunately, there’s probably gonna be a delay in updates, because I am going to be traveling for most of the next three weeks. If I can, I might do some writing on my phone, but it’s highly unlikely I’ll be posting anything. I was kinda hoping to finish Ch 8 before I left, but at this point, it’s not gonna happen. I also like to get at least a chapter ahead if I can, because sometimes I need to move a piece of information up or back a bit, and that leaves me some flexibility. 

I absolutely hate traveling: I get terrible travel anxiety, and in recent years, I’ve started getting carsick, and even more recently, I’ve started getting panic attacks when I have to drive on elevated highways or bridges. I don’t like not being in my house. I’m not really comfortable being around other people for long periods of time, because all social interactions are a performance for me. Even for trips I want to go on, breaking even emotionally is the absolute best I can hope for. All this is to say that the best I can hope for about the next few weeks is that at least they’ll be over soon, and I’ve been telling myself all summer that I had to get through August in order to get to October. 

Anyway, I expect to have wi-fi and such for the majority of the trip, but I won’t have my laptop with me, and if my overall online presence is spotty, that’s why.

Oh, I guess this is supposed to be an art update, too? Gosh it’s been forever. I haven’t been doing a whole lot, but I drew a sexy swimsuit Renji for my birthday and a comic about being a worm and made a nice banner for my fanfic and I’m honestly pretty pleased with all that.

PS: I know I usually do some over-the-top thing for Renji’s birthday, but school starts that week and am barely making it thru the day as it is these days, so I think I’m gonna take this year off from stunting. I mean, I’m sure I’ll do something, but I’m keeping it small for once.

[matildashoney]

Concept: you and Harry are exes and have to attend a wedding together (my song inspo is I Almost Do, but ofc you can take it anywhere you want!!)

Harry knew they would see each other again. It was inevitable, wasn't it?

Harry knew from the moment they decided to part ways that dreaded night that he would see her again, that this wouldn't be the end. He assumed that they would keep in contact, that she would reach out to him to let her know of the promotion that she received at her company, or maybe to congratulate him on the new single.

Harry did reach out, sort of, through their mutual friend, the one that’s getting married, the wedding that they’ll both be in attendance of. They kind of have to be, as part of the bridal party. Harry asked how she was doing over brunch, and their mutual friend – Molly is her name – said that she was doing well. This made Harry quiet, unsure of where to go. It’s not that he was expecting her to be doing poorly, he didn’t want that for her, especially not because he was still in love with her, but there was a part of him that was hoping she was even the tiniest bit as miserable as he was. That’s the selfish part of him, the one part she always complained about. That’s the reason they split, in the end. Harry was a bit selfish, is a bit selfish, and she wasn’t willing to give up her life for the touring and the music and the craziness that surrounded him.

YN’s whole life, all she wanted was to be an engineer.

YN used to tell her mother and father, “I want to build bridges and skyscrapers and all the things!” and when she was old enough to go to school and pursue her passions, that’s exactly what she was doing. Little did she know that she would start building stages for some of the biggest recording acts known to the music industry. Her career took her across the world, from Sydney to Tokyo to London, and she fell in love with what she was doing, even if she started at it by mistake. Her best friends were met through the industry, people that she fell in love with, people she grew to care for deeply and never wished to be parted from in her life.

Harry Styles is one of those people.

Immediately, Harry and YN hit it off, talking about their experiences in the music industry, the concerts they’ve seen, the stages they’ve loved and hated. They bonded over their love for artists and the way that music is unique to everyone, and how everyone’s muse is a little bit different. YN wasn’t nosey or prying into his personal life, and to be honest, she couldn’t care less. Harry was simply Harry in those moments in the office, not Harry Styles, the pop sensation. That’s how she saw him. That’s how she always saw him, even at the end of everything.

YN knew what she wanted and demanded it gets done. Harry liked that. He made that much very clear. She was pretty much expecting it when Harry asked her out for the first time. Harry asked her on their first date the night she visited the O2 Arena for their first construction of the stage, her first time seeing it live and in action. Harry had asked her on a date a bit before he was about to go on stage when he was dressed and ready and his band was making their way and she was mingling with other techs. It was quick, caught her off guard if she was honest. “Would you get drinks with me after the show?”

And before YN could properly understand what was happening in her life, she and Harry were exchanging keys to each other’s houses and staying the night and moving in clothing and going to weddings together. Their friends called it a whirlwind romance, and many of them admittedly said it was something that couldn’t see lasting past a few months – great friends they had back then – but if she was being honest with herself, which often she was, she loved every minute of it. YN loved Harry, more than she loved anyone before him, and she wanted to spend her life loving him and loving her career.

YN enjoyed going to the studio and hearing him record the songs that would never get heard past her ears. Harry loved watching her sketch out new stage plans for artists that he adored. They loved going to concerts together, seeing her work portrayed to thousands and thousands. Mutually, they respected each other’s crafts and their dedication, and it was something that bonded them more than it separated them.

Until the dreaded tour conversation came about.

Harry wanted her to come with him, to take a year remotely and travel the world with him, with her significant other, her partner. YN wanted Harry to understand that her career came first, just like his. That he didn’t like. In Harry’s eyes, YN came first, that he would’ve dropped everything for her and she wouldn’t do the same. Harry wouldn’t listen after that, and it led to a dreaded conversation in her kitchen with their keys on the table and two glasses of wine, saying that maybe in another life this was meant to be.

Eight months later, Harry is trying to prepare himself for what it’ll be like to see her again. Harry’s never stopped loving her. Hell, he’s written an entire album of songs that no one will ever hear because they’re lyrics he only wants her to hear. He nearly sent it to her, last month, all the recordings, simply to see if she would have something to say.

Always an almost. That’s how everything has been with YN, lately. Almost called. Almost sent the recordings. Almost reached out. Harry can never do the damn thing. He can never just say it. It’s always on the tip of his tongue, one step away. Harry’s always just one step away from her.

He can see her from across the room. It’s easy to notice her. YN is so fucking beautiful. He’s always said that, that her beauty is unlike anything he’s ever seen before. He notices her before he’s even made his way to the room where all the groomsmen are getting ready. Her voice travels through the tiny hallway in the hotel and Harry stops dead in his tracks, aching at the sound. He hasn’t heard her voice in so long. Way too long. He doesn’t want to disturb her, to take her away from her friends that she’s talking to, but more than anything he wants to steal her away and talk, just talk about anything, to simply hear her voice.

YN sees Harry almost as easily as he sees her – he certainly spotted her first – and walks right to him with her signature smile printed on her lips, leaving her friends behind and waving them off when they mention waiting for her. He swallows thickly and nearly extends his arm to shake her hand – now what would she have done with that – but she is too quick for him, always has been, and hugs him tightly, whispering, “Hey, H.” Harry nearly melts at the name. “It’s good to see you.”

Hugging feels intimate in the quiet hallway, and Harry stops himself a few times from breathing her in, the scent of her perfume that he knows too well bringing back memories that existed only in the furthest depths of his memory. He smiles warmly when she loosens her grip and steps away, saying something about seeing him at the aisle and saving a dance for her, something along those lines. He was too in awe of her to be paying all that much attention, in all honesty.

Harry watched as she walked away, and silently beat himself up for not saying more.

Harry’s hand was shaking against his side when YN walked towards him at the base of the aisle. He silently told his brain to ‘quit fucking around’ but it didn’t do all that much. She slinked her arm through his and smiled, nodding towards where the other bridesmaids were already walking and waiting for them. He didn’t notice that he was keeping them behind.

Green eyes are on her the entire ceremony, and she surely notices. Everyone does. Nearly to the point where one of the groomsmen nudge his arm and make him stare at the bride for even a nanosecond. Harry shrugs it off, saying that it’s nothing and that’s he’s fine, but everyone knows that he’s swimming with regret and unanswered questions.

He is fine. Harry’s fine. He’s fine until YN walks over and says, “I think you owe me a dance.”

Harry smiles his signature smile and stands, leaving his whiskey on the table and scooting his chair against the hardwood floor, taking her hand that’s stretched out for him and bravely kissing her knuckles. YN smiles, and he knows that wherever this is going, it’s nowhere near what the worst-case scenario he created in his head might have been.

“God, I love this song,” she says as soon as they make their way to the dance floor. “I’m working on their stage, right now. They have a tour coming up, this year.”

Harry circles his arms around her waist, exactly like he used to, and brings her into his chest, their faces mere inches from each other. Her hands lay on his shoulders, inching towards his neck, and the way their eyes are staring into each other’s make him know that there is still something there, even in the slightest capacity. “Busy bee, as always.”

“Have to do something with my time,” she giggles, shrugging her shoulders and licking her lips. Harry remembers that she does this when she’s nervous, and for the first time that night, it feels like his nerves begin to ease. “How are you? How’s everything?”

“Eh, well, I’m okay, I guess,” Harry says, and he believes that to be true. He is okay. He knows better than to lie to her, too. YN has a radar for bullshit. “I wrote two albums, this year.”

“Two?” YN blinks, waiting for confirmation. When Harry doesn’t say anything in return, she continues, “That’s amazing, H. I’m really proud of you.”

Harry doesn’t know how to react to that sentiment, because, although it feels painfully good to hear, it is still painful, nonetheless. “That means a lot coming from you.”

“It’s been a while since we talked,” she says softly, sliding her arms further around his shoulders and clasping her hands together behind his neck. “I’m sorry I didn’t reach out sooner. I, there were things I wanted to tell you, and I wanted to share with you, but I just couldn’t. Things felt too raw. I wanted to talk, but every time I would go to dial your number, it was like, a mental block.”

Harry nods sadly, almost like he’s agreeing with her. “I know. I almost called, I almost texted. Good amount of almost things. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

“H, we said we’d stay friends.”

“Am I not your friend, YN?” Harry chuckles, but she knows that there is pain behind it, an aching question that is dying to be answered unless the answer is something neither of them wants to admit. “Honestly, I just thought you’d moved on or hated me. I resigned to either of those reasons. I was okay with either, as long as you’re happy. That’s all I wanted to know.”

“Harry,” she says, shaking her head adamantly and meeting his glassy stare, “that’s the last thing from the truth.”

Harry doesn’t say anything for a minute or two, maybe more, and YN is beginning to wonder if this conversation was a mistake. His silence is deafening and there’s a moment where she thinks she’ll slip out of his grasp, only to feel his palms widen on her back and one hand slip away to take her hand and spin her around. Harry smiles softly and listens to her laugh, and soaks in the sound, very unaware of where the conversation will go afterwards.

Music still plays behind them, and couples come and go from the dance floor. Harry and YN mind their business, dancing quietly and leaning into each other and soaking at the moment that feels like it could last a lifetime. His hand is holding hers, his other splayed across her lower back, and her cheek is resting on his shoulder when he whispers, “I still love you.”

Her hair falls down her back and across her face when she turns her head on his shoulder, and Harry reaches forward with their interlocked hands and brushes it away from her cheek. His expression is neutral, calm, and she can barely tell if she was meant to hear the confession or not. “Harry.”

“I still love you.”

[hyperion-moonbabe-art3mis]

Songwriting

Julie and the Phantoms

Pairing: Luke Patterson x Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Masterlist

A/N: Here’s my first JATP fic. This is loosely based on the “Edge of Great” ep. This ended up being much longer than I expected, but who’s complaining I guess. Please let me know what you think and if I should write more. I hope you all enjoy!

@im-a-writer-right​ YOUR TURN!!!

Ever since Julie’s mom had passed away you had been hanging around a lot since you knew what it was like to lose a parent. But ever since you found out that Julie had 3 ghost boys in her garage you found yourself hanging out at her house much more often. It was interesting and you really had nothing else better to do. And considering you’re the only other person that can see them without music playing Julie felt more comfortable having you watch over them if she thought they’d get into any trouble.

You had been hanging out in the garage waiting for Julie so you could watch her and the boys practice. You were writing lyrics in your journal when all of a sudden Luke popped in onto the couch next to you. 

“Whatcha writing?” He asks peeking over your shoulder.

“Nothing!” You say slamming your notebook shut.

“Shutting your notebook isn’t nothing. Come on, what is it?” Luke asks turning himself to you.

“Ok, how about. None of your business,” You respond. 

“Y/N when are you gonna tell me what’s in your notebook? You hug that thing like it’ll be the death of you if someone reads it,” Luke chuckles.

“It’s my personal journal when are you gonna get that?” You say and get up to put it in your bag. 

“When you let me see what’s inside?”Luke asks.

“You’re so damn nosy, Luke,” You chuckle as Julie walks in.

“What’s going on here?” Julie asks, clearly thinking something is going on between you and Luke.

“Luke is trying to get me to show him my notebook,” You say showing Julie. 

“Ah, your mu--” Julie starts before you run to cover her mouth.

“Wait she knows?” Luke asks.

“Well yeah. She’s my best friend,” You say with your hand still covering Julie’s mouth. Julie muffles something through your hand but it was incoherent, so you remove your hand.

“Where’s Reggie and Alex? We need to practice,” Julie says. 

“Oh! They were just out doing their own thing. They’ll be here,” Luke says. Just like on queue the two popped in. 

“Hey, guys, ready to rock?” Reggie says.

“Yeh, so we’re playing Edge of Great first. Let’s start on that,” Julie says. You sat and watched as the band practiced for the show Julie’s dad put on. 

“So what do you think?” Julie asked you.

“It was great. You all are gonna do amazing!” You say. After the boys were gone for a break before the show, you wanted to show Julie what you were working on.

“Hey, I was wondering if I could show you a song I was working on,” You say.

“Of course,” She says.

You go over to pick up one of the acoustic guitars and make sure it’s in tune. As soon as you were ready you started playing some chords. “One moment you’re here and the next you’re not. But I know you’re watching over me and you’re still with me,” You sing. You continue until you finish the chords you have set out. 

“I have all the lyrics but I’m still working on the tune. What do you think?” You ask Julie as you finish. 

“It’s great. Is it about your dad?” She asks.

“Yeah, it’s been in the works for months and I just finished the lyrics before Luke so rudely interrupted,” You respond.

“You know...” Julie starts with a look on her face.

“No. No. I know that look on your face. You’re gonna suggest something that I won’t like,” You say.

“Come on. Just hear me out?” She begs.

“Fine,” You say, and cross your arms.

“You should ask Luke to help you finish the tune and open for us at the show,” She suggests.

“Nope. Nope. No,” You quickly say.

“Come on. You write amazing music and have barely shared it in the last few years,” She says.

“You know that’s because a lot of my songs are super personal, especially this one,” You say.

“Ok, well do you have a song you’d be okay singing?” Julie.

“I have one, but I don’t have any tune for it,” You respond. 

“Ok, ask Luke to help. He’s amazing at creating tunes for lyrics,” Julie says.

“No,” You sternly say.

“Why are you so scared to let the boys know you sing and write music?” She asks.

“I don’t know. It’s not something I really like to publicly announce,” You respond.

“You don’t publicly announce it, but you’re one of the best artists in the school music program? Come on what’s the real reason?” Julie questions.

“I guess it’s just because it’s been a long time since I’ve performed solo and my songs have seriously been lacking. Plus there are only a few hours until your show, I’m not sure if I can pull a full song out before then,” You respond.

“Your songs have not been lacking. And if I can bounce back. Then you definitely can. Just ask Luke, I know he’d be more than happy to help and to find out what’s in your notebook. You have the rest of the afternoon. Plus,  I’ve seen you pull songs out 1 hour before you went on stage, you got this,” Julie says. 

“You really think I can pull this?” You ask.

“I know it. And you can find out if there really is anything going on between you two,” Julie smiles and pokes at your stomach.

“Stop. There’s nothing between Luke and me, he’s just a good friend,” You say.

“A friend that my best friend likes. The way you two look at each other and talk to eachother that can’t be nothing,” Julie says.

“So this is why you want Luke to help me?” You ask.

“Ehhhh. Also if you don’t play, I’ll hunt you down and make you,” She says as you two walk out of the garage. 

“Fine. Fine. I’d rather not die at your hand. But there is NOTHING between me and Luke,” You chuckle.

“I guess we’ll find out,” Julie says as you glare at her.

~An hour Later~

You walk into the garage hoping to find Luke or even one of the guys hanging out, but it was completely empty. After looking around for a bit you decided to leave and come back later. But just as you were about to leave you, hear two feet hit the ground.

“Hey, looking for Julie?” Luke says as your turn around.

“Uh, no, actually I was looking for you,” You say looking at your feet. 

“Oh uh, what’s up?” Luke asks.

“I don’t know if this is too much to ask but ummm, Julie was thinking that I could open up for your guys’ show in a few hours and I kinda need help finding a tune to some lyrics I wrote. Julie thought you could help,” You say.

“Wait you sing? Why didn’t you tell us?” Luke asks excitedly.

“Yeh, I don’t usually play outside of school or my room anymore,” You say.

“Well, it’s not much to ask and I’d be glad to help,” He says and sits down next to you on the couch.

“Thanks,” You say and pull out your notebook.

“So that’s your lyric book,” Luke says.

“Yes, and you promise not to peek at any other songs after showing you?” You ask and Luke nods. You flip to the page of the lyrics for the song you’re gonna play. “Here’s the song. I uh wrote this a while back when uhh, I was finally feeling like myself again after my dad passed. It’s called Sunflower,” You say hesitantly.

“I’m sorry,” Luke says as you can feel his eyes trained on you. He clears his throat, “So let’s see what you have,” Luke says and you pass your notebook to him. “This is great,” He says after finishing.

“Thanks, I play the guitar, mostly acoustic,” You say and pick up your guitar. 

Luke reads the first few lines of lyrics trying to figure out a good tune, “From dusk til dawn,” Luke mumbles reading through the first verse. He grabs the guitar from your hands and starts to strum some chords. “So here’s what I think,” Luke says and starts to play chords while singing your lyrics. 

“That’s great and what do you think if I stung this note out a bit,” You say taking back the guitar and playing the chords back while singing. 

“You have an amazing voice,” Luke says as you finish singing.

“Thanks,” You chuckle. The two of you sit for the next few hours creating a tune for your song.

“Ok, so this is what we have. Not like we can change it, the show is in 2 hours,” You say. You start to play the chords and sing. You expected to Luke join in like he normally would but he just sat there watching you sing. “So I guess that’s it,” You say after finishing the song. 

“It’s great! You’ll do amazing, I know it!” Luke smiles at you. You couldn’t help but think about what Julie said earlier, and Luke’s cute smile wasn’t helping. 

“What’s going on here?” Reggie asks. The two of you scoot away from eachother.

“I was just helping Y/N with a song, “ Luke says.

“Y/N sings?” Alex questions.

“Yeh I do, Julie wants me to open for you guys tonight. Luke was j-just helping me put a tune to my lyrics,” You say.

“Can we hear it?!” Alex asks excitedly. 

“I’m gonna leave that for the show,” You say.

“But guys, I promise it’s amazing! Y/N’s amazing,” Luke says as you chuckle. You feel chills move throughout your body at the comment Luke made. 

“Hey, guys! Ready to set up?” Julie asks walking in. She smiles seeing that you had actually asked Luke for help.

“Yeah,” The guys respond. You help Julie set up the equipment before heading inside to get ready for the show. 

“So, how was it with Luke,” Julie asks looking in her closet.

“It was good,” You respond.

“Just good? Come on, I need details girl,” Julie stops her task.

“Ok...fine. Luke is as good as you say in finding tunes. And he was very helpful,” You say.

“Really? I mean like did you feel something? Like a connection?” Julie asks.

“Julie,”

“I’m serious. You didn’t hear from me but I know Luke likes you. He just doesn’t know how to say it,” 

“Wait really?”

“Ah Ha! So you do like him,” 

“Me questioning if he likes me does not prove that I like him,”

“If I know Y/N and I do. I know when she likes someone. And you like Luke. I promise I won’t say anything,”

“Fine will you get off my back if I tell you how I really feel about Luke?”

“Promise,”

“Okay. He’s a great guy. And I can tell he’s really passionate about his music and that he loves playing. He’s also really sweet, cute...and stupidly annoying,” You chuckle.

“If I didn’t know better a certain someone likes Luke,” Julie smiles.

“Yes, your hunches were right,” You smile.

“Hey, you guys ready?” Luke says popping his head through Julie’s door.

“Uhh… yeah. We’ll be down in a bit,” You say.

“Cool. Y/N you’re gonna do amazing. And Julie we’re gonna kill it,” Luke says and leaves.

“I really hope he didn’t hear any of that,” You bury your face in your hands a few seconds after Luke leaves and Julie chuckles. You and Julie finish getting ready and head downstairs where Flynn was waiting. 

“You ready, Julie?” Flynn asks.

“Yes. But there’s a slight change of plans. Y/N is gonna open up for us so you’ll just have to introduce her first,” Julie explains.

“Yesss….I’ve been dying to hear you sing again,” Flynn squeals. The three of you make your way to the garage. You, Julie, and the boys prepare for the show. You find yourself shaking as soon as you hear Flynn speaking over the speakers. 

“Hey. Hey. You got this. Your song is amazing and you’re gonna kill it. If I could give you a big ‘good luck’ hug right now I would, but--” Luke says as his hand passes through yours. 

“It’s ok. Just...some jitters,” You say right before Flynn says your name. You make your way to the front of the garage. 

“Hi, I’m Y/N and I’ll be opening for Julie and the Phantoms,” You say and get ready to sing. You look up to find Luke standing in the front of the crowd and he gives a big smile, “You got this,” He says. 

You start off with the chords Luke played. As you continued to play and sing you felt like you were home again. Like you were meant to play in front of people and share your music. Once you finished, you headed out and let Flynn introduce Julie and the boys. You watched as they played “Edge of Great” and couldn’t be happier to watch them all do what they love most. After the party ended you found yourself staying the night at Julie’s. 

“Hey, can I talk with Y/N alone?” Luke asks as Julie is putting away a few things and the boys are hanging out.  They all nod and start to head out. As Julie leaves, you see her giving you a smirk like she knew what was gonna happen.

“What’s up?” You ask Luke as soon as everyone cleared out. 

“I just wanted to say you did amazing and that you should perform more,” Luke says giving a nervous chuckle after.

“Thanks, you guys did great too. I mean it was your show,” You say. A few moments of awkwardness passed. “Was that all?” You ask.

“N--No. I--I--” He hesitates.

“I know you like me,” You blurt out. After the fact, you realize what you had said. “I didn’t mean to say it like that, Uh,” You say nervously.

“Y/N, you’re an amazing songwriter and an even more amazing person. And yeh, you--you’re right I do like you. And I know we can’t exactly touch each other and I’ve been dead for 25 years, but that doesn’t change how I feel about you,” He says.

“Luke. I don’t really care that you’re a ghost. I feel the exact same way. And yeh it’s a little weird to say I like a ghost, but one day I feel like you’ll really be in front of me and I’ll really get to touch you,” You say.

“I umm wrote this song. It’s actually about you, “ Luke says and picks up his guitar. He starts to play the chords and sing. 

“I love it,” You say after he finishes. You hear a clap from outside the garage doors and you quickly shoot a look and see three heads quickly move down. 

You get off the couch and open the doors, “We’re you guys really eavesdropping?” You ask.

“How did it go?” Julie asks hesitantly.

“Does ‘alone’ really mean nothing to you guys?” You ask.

“If you guys really want you to know...it went great,” Luke says and smiles at you.

“Hey, you guys can’t blame us for wanting two of our friends to get together,” Reggie says putting his hands up in defense.

“You guys are seriously ridiculous,” You say and walk out of the garage.

[caermis]

❝Hesitation.❞

❖Karasuno 1st years X Black!Reader

❖Reader: Female ❖Characters: ↠Hinata S. ↠Kageyama T. ↠Tsukishima K. ↠Yamaguchi T.

❖Word Count: 2.2k

❖Warnings: ↠None ❖Prompt/Summary: I tried to ignore these feelings. I really did. ❖Notes: ↠Team Captains are next-  

❝Haikyuu!! M.List❞ ❝Taglist Request❞

Dedication. 

❖To Kageyama and Hinata, that’s all that mattered. Volleyball. That’s all that made their hearts flutter and feel immense joy. So what made you different? A foreigner from a different country, that seemed to always be writing or reading in a language they didn't understand. Hair that stood out, E/C eyes, a wider nose, and bigger lips.

You were in Kageyama’s eyes, weird and strange. In Hinata’s, you were different and new. 

❖A third-year student, that seemed to know not a single thing about Volleyball, so why were you in the gym where they practiced. They watched you glanced around the room before landing on Asahi and racing over to him. You both talked silently, a smile spreading across your lips as he passed over a notebook. A notebook Hinata and Kageyama had seen you writing in.

Why did Asahi have it?

❖They watched you leave, happier than you came, and before they knew it, they were surrounding Asahi and why you were here. “She let me read one of her stories.” He stumbled over his words, inching away from them. 

Stories. So you wrote stories. 

Kindness.

❖You were kind, even if neither of them talked to you, you seemed sweet. Tsukishima and Yamaguchi had met kind people before, so another one didn't impact their life. You looked different and spoke with an accent and at times spoke in broken Japanese. Yet you what made you stand out besides being a foreigner?

In Tsukishima’s eyes, nothing. In Yamaguchi’s, everything.

❖Another day walking through the same halls, and they had passed a certain classroom. Your classroom. Peeking through the windows, you seemed upset. Not the usual smile, or the resting bitch face you had, you looked sad. 

Why were you sad?

❖You repeatedly tapped your pencil against the blank page, you had writer's block. Or maybe you didn't want to write, but maybe you had to. “Hey L/N!” The two watch Sugawara walk into the room sitting across from you, still not noticing the two 1st years, your smile had returned as you spoke with your friend?

Did he make you happy?

❖A volleyball game and everyone was on edge. They would surely lose, but what was different? You appeared with a smile before the game and wished them the best. Hinata and Yamaguchi believed they could do anything, especially with you on the sidelines with Coach Ukai. Kageyama and Tsukishima both refused to lose in front of a 3rd year, especially if this was your first Volleyball game for their team. 

They won.

❖“Congratulations on winning.” A small smile across your lips, you stared at them with pride. “Thank you for believing in us L/N!” Hinata was the first to speak to you, he couldn't hold in his excitement. “You did amazing Shōyō.” You had known their names. 

❖“Do you know mine!?” Kageyama went next. He refused to let Hinata of all people have your attention. But why? “Kageyama Tobio. I know all your names.” Did it matter to you? They wanted to know why.

❖Every game, they invited you too. Hinata coming to you jumping up and down about a new move he learned and how you just had to see it in action. Kageyama would leave a note on your desk, or just expect you to come to the game. Yamaguchi would shyly mention that he had practiced, and he did better if you were there. Tsukishima would just say the date and time of the game and walk off. 

To you. It was very obvious they liked you.

❖Your graduation came sooner than they hoped. Not once ever confessing until that night you were to head back to America. They all showed up on your doorstep and confessed in the dead of the night. They expected to be shot down, to be rejected, but all you did was let out a soft sigh.

“Find me again once you graduate. I’ll tell you if I like you or not.”

❖The next day, they watched your plane leave. 

❖Kageyama and Tsukishima wanted to move on. They wanted to forget about you, to ignore you and devote all their time to volleyball, but how could they. That night Tsukishima gave you a pair of his headphones, demanding that when you both met again, you’d give them back. Kageyama gave you his volleyball, saying it was good luck, and he’d need it back.

❖Two years passed like a breeze at their last High school Volleyball game. Sugawara, Asahi, and Daichi all sat in the stands cheering them on, and there you stood, near the back with a smile.

“Good luck!”

❖How’d they hear you over the loud cheers of the crowd, no one was sure, but they did. Tsukishima’s headphones around your neck and Kageyama’s volleyball tucked beneath into your arm. Hinata’s scarf wrapped loosely around your neck, along with a headband that kept your hair in a puff, that Yamaguchi bought as your graduation gift. 

❖They won that game. Play harder than before, but before they could greet you. You had disappeared. 

You were in Japan, that’s all that mattered. 

❖“You're going to keep hiding from them?” Settling into the guest bedroom, Sugawara stared at me with a questionable look as he placed my bags to the side. “I'm not hiding.” 

“Then why won't you go see them?”

“I'm just waiting.”

“They have feelings for you. I hope you see them at graduation.” Turning to Suga and slipping the headphones off and plopping down on the edge of my bed. “I will.”

“Oh, my goddess Y/N. You actually like them back!” Suga grabbed my face and stared into my eyes. His smile spread across his lips. Slapping his face away, I turned my head to the side. “I don't...”

“I gotta tell Daichi!”

Hesitation.

❖Most things I've accomplished within my life I had been hesitant on. Coming to Japan, I wanted to, but I was hesitant. I would be on my own. Writing, something that I believed myself in most times, to where I published a book, and it did well. Yet I was hesitant to share it to Asahi, but I did. My first volleyball game I went to, seeing Karasuno play, I was hesitant to go. Like I was a bad omen, and I would mess them up somehow. 

My feelings. 

❖I tried, I really did. An 18-year-old being in love with a few 16 years old, that’s depressing. When I went back to America, I tried to go on different dates, move on, but it didn't work. With Tsukishima’s headphones tucked neatly on my desk and Kageyama’s ball in the corner of my old apartment. With Hinata’s scarf hanging on the wall and Yamaguchi’s headband on my dresser. Every day, I saw these items, every day I wanted to contact them, but I didn't. I didn't want these feelings to be true.

❖So why did I come back to Japan if I wanted to forget them so badly? It was their last volleyball game, and I wanted to see it in person. So before I knew it, I was on the next plane to Japan and stayed at a hotel before contacting my old classmates. In a place that felt so foreign two years ago, became my home. I cried when I saw them. 

The volleyball game

❖I didn't them to know I was here, so when all their eyes whipped up to me, I broke and quickly ran once the game ended. I couldn't face my feelings. I regretted it, too far to turn back. Too late to run and apologize. I hesitated again. 

“Dammit.”

❖Graduation came sooner than I expected. The next thing I knew I was sitting with Sugawara and Daichi waiting for the once baby flightless crows to walk across the stage. Every fiber in my being wanted to run and leave, while the other half of me refused to listen to my panicking brain and im 100% sure that if I attempted, Daichi would drag me right on back. Letting out a soft breath before my ears picked up Hinata’s name and he proudly strutting across the stage. He had grown taller. He looked out into the crowd, scanning his eyes across before landing on me. 

❖Feeling my heart stop, I watched his smile widened before he left the stage. 

❖Kageyama was next, walking across the stage seeming to know exactly where I was. Averting my eyes quickly, I could still feel his intense glare. Daichi and Koushi making fun of me, which earned them a painful pinch on the shoulder. Tsukishima went next, then Yamaguchi. Their stares less intense but determined. All mentally vowing to find me, I made a promise after all.

❖Soon the ceremony was over, letting me dart outside before the crowd came and get some fresh air. Mentally psyching myself up for this encounter. “Found you.” Stiffening in my position, I slowly turned around. It was Kageyama. And he is tall, staring down at me before glancing down at the old volleyball in my hands. “You kept it... Why?” Looking at the volleyball before passing it to him. “You said it was good luck and to give it back to you.”

❖“They got yo’ ass surrounded!”

❖Hearing Koushi yell, before I realized it, the four volleyball players surrounded me. “We graduated Y/N.” Hearing Tsukishima mutter, just as warm arms hugged me from behind, careful to avoid my hair. “I've missed you Y/N...”

❖“Shōyō,” Muttering quietly, my hand moving up to his head, softly patting it before remembering where we were. Pulling away, I turned and faced all of them. “Congrats.” Smiling, I looked towards Koushi and Daichi for help, but they only waved happily, before mouthing that they'll text me where to meet for dinner. “You owe us an answer.”

❖“Right now?” Tsukishima rolled his eyes and before I knew it, I was being pushed through the crowd and towards the empty gym. An answer… I didn't want to admit it, I didn't want to say that whatever i felt, love, was true. That i felt what I did for them. Yet at the same time I was ready, ready to tell them.  Tsukishima was the one to slide the gym doors open, letting Yamaguchi and Hinata push me inside, Kageyama close behind. Hearing the gym doors shut, I turned around, facing them. Standing on the court, I pulled off Tsukishima’s headphones and passed them to him. 

❖“Keep them.”

❖“You told me to give them back--”

❖“I lied. I don't need them.”

❖Dropping my hand to my side, I felt like I was in high school again. “I still like you a lot, L/N.” Yamaguchi spoke confidently, his hands in his pockets. “I know.” Muttering, avoiding their gazes. “Do you like us?” Turning to Hinata, I took a hesitant step back, clutching the headphones tightly.

❖“It’s fine if you say no.” Kageyama shoved his hands in his pockets, letting his old volleyball drop and roll to my feet. If I say no, I’ll be running away. Regretting this decision. Covering my eyes with one hand, a shaky breath left my lips as tears spilled from my eyes. “I tried to ignore these feelings. I really did, but i missed y’all a lot while i was away...it scared me to be honest. That I fell in love with four different people. That I... I couldn't decide--” I explained everything, while crying my eyes out. It felt like a heavy burden was off of my shoulders, that I could finally be honest. 

❖Once I stopped crying, I looked up. Both Hinata and Yamaguchi in tears, Tsukishima with a smirk, and Kageyama with a rare smile.

Dedication.

❖To Kageyama and Hinata, that’s all that mattered. Volleyball. That’s all that made their hearts flutter and feel immense joy. So what made you different? Maybe it was the way your lips curled up in embarrassment when you became flustered or when you looked fully entranced by something you read. Or when you always held their hand as they walked or you cheering loudly in the crowd, always making time for them to appear. Or when you introduced them to western ideas and food. 

You were in Kageyama’s eyes, different and strange. To make his heart flitter like volleyball did to place a gentle hand on his shoulder and comfort him.

In Hinata’s, you were understanding and loving, to indulge him on his late night walks, and even after he’d lose you’d be proud of him.

Kindness.

❖You were kind, even after knowing you for years, you were sweet. Tsukishima and Yamaguchi had met kind people before, so why did another one impact their life so differently? You being their biggest cheerleader and helping them every step of the way, or never you choosing between them and choosing to compromise. Or after a long day passing out in their arms only to wake up at three am with 15 different story ideas. 

In Tsukishima’s eyes, nothing. You were nothing like the other kind of people he had met. None made his heart so full or raise his body temperature.

In Yamaguchi’s, everything, like the kind people he had met, but yours was 10x, you believed in his capabilities and that alone was more than you could ask.

[natashxromanovf]

I don't wanna go...

Pairing: Marauders × platonic!fem!potter! reader

Word count: 1.3K

Warnings: swearing, blood, death

Type: angst

Summary: No one knows what will the new year at Hogwarts bring. Well, this year was very much more different than the others.

A/N: Okay. I’ve probably hurt myself more when I wrote this than I will you. It’s my first angsty fic, so I don’t know if it’s good. I haven't mention Peter, but he is somewhere around. I just didn't know where to put him. Feedback would be really welcomed and appreciated. I’m sorry in advance. 

“I DON’T WANNA GO!” you yelled, trying to convince Euphemia not to go to the party.

“Well you’re going,” she said, “it’s Dorothy’s birthday and she invited us, so you’re going.”

“But-” you tried to contend

“No argues here young lady. You’re going.” she stated, that mother tone in her voice.

“Fine, but so that you know, James doesn’t want to go either.”

“Hey, don’t drag me into this! I honestly don’t care. Besides we’re gonna see Pads again, so it’s worth it.”

“Fine,” you finally stopped trying “There’s gonna be alcohol, right?” you whispered into James’s ear.

“You know it.” he whispered, a smirk appearing on his face. Well, that explains a lot of things, you thought.

It was a sunny, beautiful morning. The birds were singing, the sun was shining through the curtains and overall, it was lovely. You and James were enjoying the last weeks of summer, having to go back to Hogwarts soon. You almost forgot it was Dorothy’s birthday until mom reminded you. Dorothy was your mother's best friend since Hogwarts. She is a brunette woman with green eyes. She loves to talk and compliment the twins each time they get there. And it wasn’t any different this time.

“Oh, Euphemia, you have such beautiful and healthy kids.” she said cupping both of your and James’s cheeks.

“Thank you” your mother said.

“I see Pads,” you whispered

“Make an excuse” he whispered back.

“We would really much like to talk, but we gotta go to the bathroom.” you quickly made something up.

“Sure honey, go.” your mom replied.

“Bathroom, really?”

“Well did you have a better idea?” you whisper-yelled back.

“Whatever. PADS!”

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t my favorite twins. Hello, fancy seeing you here.”

“Oh, shut up” you said, wrapping your hands around his neck, pulling him into a hug

“I’ve missed you.” he says.

“Well, what am I? A potato?” James said, putting his hand on his chest.

“Oh, don’t be such a baby” Sirius said, giving him a bro hug. The rest of the evening was quite enjoyable, drinking champagne and catching up with one another, not hanging out since the end of the 6th year.

~

Holidays were over before you knew it. Now here you were, standing at the King’s Cross saying goodbye to your parents and greeting Remus. The train took off and soon enough you came to Hogwarts and the term started. 

The first few months went by ordinary; with the fact that NEWT’s were coming, of course. You couldn’t wait to finish Hogwarts and become an Auror, as you always wanted. It was your dream and soon they’ll come true. At least you hoped. But hey, with Remus tutoring you and you getting your shit together, anything is possible. 

Months went by and NEWT’s were getting closer and closer as were your nerves getting bigger and bigger. You really wanted it. To become an Auror. You and Sirius made a vow when you were younger to become Aurors, together. You weren’t worried for him, he’ll do all of his exams perfectly. He’s naturally talented. The person you were concerned about was you.

“Y/N, relax. You can do this! We’ve been practicing this for over a month now. Those hours spent in the library are gonna pay off.” said Remus, at breakfast before the potions test. It was the last one you had, the last step from committing to your dream career.

“I know Rem. It’s going to be alright. I’m gonna nail it!” you shouted. Maybe a little too loud, because half of the Great hall turned to you.

“Now, we’re talking.” he high-fived you.

“I know I can do it, I know I can do it.” you kept muttering to yourself.

“Miss Potter!” an unknown person shouted. Probably from the ministry, you thought. For the last time, you repeated your lessons with Remus from the library, before stepping into the classroom. The questions weren’t too hard and soon enough the lady said you passed. You couldn’t believe it. You did it! You are becoming an Auror. It was like a weight rolled from your shoulders and heart. For the first time, in a long while, you were extremely happy. And you couldn’t help yourself but play a little joke on your friends. As soon as you stepped into the common room a bunch of questions hit you.

“How did it go?” yelled Remus

“Did you pass?” asked James

“Are we fulfilling our dreams?” questioned Sirius. You hold your poker face on, trying not to grin as crazy and tell them the good news. They were getting kinda worried by now and you finally decided that enough is enough.

“I got an E!!!!” you yelled with pure happiness heard in your voice. They all let out a sigh of relief, pulling you into a group hug joyful words coming out of each of them.

“We’re so proud of you, darling!” Remus announced.

“More than you can imagine.” added James. Sirius just smiled, that grin telling you all of what he wanted to say. You’re making your dreams come true. 

~

The graduation took place about two weeks after. It was a little bit cloudy, but warm day. It was a perfect day. Not too hot, yet still enough to be in T-shirts. The students, including you, were all so excited. You’re finally leaving this school and going into the real world. Tho you were a little sad, giving the fact that you won’t see your friends so often. But all that matters is that you’ll stay a group. And that did not worry you. The happiness, radiating from your faces, could be seen from a mile away. It was all you ever wanted.

It’s over. You’re officially out of Hogwarts. Tho you still were in the yard where the graduation was, you were now drinking butterbeer and having a laugh with Marauders.

“Look who we have here.” said a voice. You could recognize it anywhere.

“Go away Bella!” you yelled without even turning around to look at her.

“Oh, rude are we today Y/N.” you had enough. No way this bitch is gonna ruin the day. It was too good.

“Look, Bellatrix,” you said “can you please leave us alone, it’s just such an amazing day.” you begged.

“Okay, but I have to do something first.” she pulled out her wand

“What are you doing Bella?” asked Sirius. You froze. You knew she was doing some nasty business for the Dark Lord, but you never expected you will be the target.

“I’m sorry Y/N. He said I have to prove myself to him.” she muttered an unknowing curse and it hit you in the stomach. First you thought nothing was happening. She did something wrong, you thought. But then you felt a sharp feeling in your stomach. It was like someone just stabbed you. The blood started pouring out of your belly and you collapsed to the floor. It was like everything was happening in slow motion. James ran up to you with the two boys right behind him. He put your head on his lap, Sirius and Remus both on your sides holding your hand.

“Y/N, you’ll be okay, stay awake for me!” yelled Sirius. All of them were crying, not knowing what to do. Many people said that when you’re about to die, the whole life repeats before your eyes. It wasn’t like that. All you could think of were your friends, crying over your body.

“Pl- please, don’t be too sad,” you whispered. “It’s okay. I made peace with death a long time ago.”

“No stay with me, please.” sobbed James. You knew you were about to die. It was true though, you were okay with it. But right before it happened, you felt a sudden wave of fear and it got the best of you.

“I don’t wanna go” you murmured as you bleed out in his arms.

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

Taglist: @voidmalfoy @cunningambitousdetermined @pregnant-piggy

If you want to be added, send me an ask or message me :)

[whump-town]

The Safe Side

No pairings

No warnings (surprising, I know)

Hotch is getting older and that scares the shit out of Reid

I probably wouldn't have finished this if not for @genevievedarcygranger

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

His only symptom is memory loss.

Reid sees it, he knows it. The symptoms he’s committed to his memory for better or worse dispelled so easily, so regularly before him but he can’t help but entertain his irrational fears. He’s not sure why. It would not be more comforting for Hotch’s occasional forgetfulness to be Alzheimer’s and not age and yet he waits for the moment that proves him wrong. For the phone call that Hotch is dressed for work and trying to get up to the bullpen. That they’ll lose him to anxiety and aggression, he’ll lose his temperament and comforting nature bit-by-bit until he’s broken down. And Reid will lose him too.

The good things become tainted by his fear.

At Christmas, they go to Rossi’s like they always do, and while the others dance to the music softly humming through the room Reid finds himself watching Hotch. Inspecting the grey hairs growing ever more along his temples, spread now through the rest of his hair. They age him appropriately but Reid can’t help but feel betrayed by their presence like he’s being taunted. No different from the reading glasses perched at the very edge of Hotch’s nose, the ones Hank lightly reaches up for. Old enough not to grab at them but still curiously taking a finger to trail their frames. Reid neglects his desire to be closer to them, to be drawn in by Hotch’s deep voice and the crackling fire soothing Hank to sleep. He stays where he is, hearing the ghosting bits of “Where The Wild Things Are” for the third time.

All he hears is science. Proof in the voice’s Hotch uses for each character -- “Oh, please don't go — I'll eat you up — I love you so!” -- that his language center had no inhibitions. The way Hank looks at Hotch when he bellows that line the first time, giggling and writing about when Hotch tickles him and squeezes him up tight so Hank can’t get away is lost to Reid for what it really is. That the spontaneous tickling and the reading mean other things. The love between them and Hank’s adoration for Hotch boiled down to symptoms Reid can prove Hotch doesn’t have.

Reid is terrified and it won’t let it up.

He finds himself panicking in Rossi’s backyard, surrounded by laughing people. Happy people who have no idea what his problem is. But he sweeps his over the clusters of chatting people and realizes that in all the groups he can’t find Hotch. Amidst them, he’s fairly easy to spot. Sticks to what he knows and who he’s most comfortable with. Diplomatic in that he makes sure he talks to everyone once but if he’s going to be someplace he’s not where he should be.

This is it, he tells himself. He’ll find Hotch confused, ambling about alone and where he shouldn’t be. Not sure where he is or why he’s here.

And then Reid turns around and finds Emily sitting with him on the porch swing. One of Hotch’s legs stretched out over the expanse of the porch, dark jeans a contrast to the concrete as he rocks them back and forth. Emily’s head on his shoulder and his arm around her back, a glass of wine passed between them. Neither saying a word as they watch the teams they built interacting with one another, families mixing together.

Reid can’t enjoy their smiles, the way they look out over everyone like proud parents.

Even his own birthday with books in a variety of languages sitting around him wrapped in an array of papers that so brilliantly display who their giver was. With his fingers tracing the one covered in newspaper, the one he knows is from Hotch, Reid is lost to this rot in the pit of his stomach. The sludge that fills his veins with tension. It leaves him the only person not smiling, with no idea what’s happening, when Garcia and Hotch stand over his cake fussing about which direction to light the candles. He misses the finger Hotch swipes through the icing and dollops right on Garcia’s nose. Looks up to watch Garcia retaliate with the same treatment but can’t enjoy it, can’t feel love or ease when the room erupts in laughter and Garcia and Hotch stand there with their icing-covered noses smiling at one another.

He finally finds the courage to mention it to someone, tells Morgan one afternoon when they both end up at Hotch’s house. Morgan is there fixing some wooden stakes in Hotch’s garden and Reid dropping off groceries. Hotch is sleeping off surgery medication, unaware of the hushed conversation being had outside.

“Kid,” Morgan can see it. The terror eating Reid alive. “They just hacked him apart and put him back together, all right? He’s on some strong shit right now. He’ll be fine in a day or two. You’ll see.” Morgan tells him not to worry about it, Hotch has been knocked around his entire life. Nearly sixty years of severe blows to the head and if he manages to walk out of this life with just a sketchy memory then he’s getting off lucky.

But when Hotch stands for too long in a room trying to remember what he was doing or when he can’t provide an answer for how much coffee he’s had or if he needs eggs or if he had the last bowl of oatmeal this morning it scares the shit out of Reid.

Really, Hotch is fine.

Hotch had to write his doctor’s appointments down and he’s constantly needing some sort of surgery to fix whatever old injury is coming back to remind him of his previous offense but he’s his normal actively grouchy self. He never forgets to stop by Reid’s apartment Thursday around noon or his promise to get Henry and Hank from school when no one else can.

That doesn’t mean no one worries about him.

He would hate to know the collapse wasn’t when they started taking note of his fragile health.

Two weeks after his forty-fifth birthday he pulled a muscle in his chest (moving the couch so Jack could get a Hotwheels out from underneath) and JJ had watched him pause during his coffee run to press his palm into the strain. Her mind had filtered through a hundred scenarios to explain the behavior and they’d all ended with his death. Hotch is the kind of person with a puzzle piece life, whose pieces are spread out over the course of years, meant to be collected and put together by only the most detail-oriented. She knew his father had died of a heart attack and Reid only served to reiterate that fact. It was only a pulled muscle but, not for the first time, she felt utterly terrified of how much losing him would hurt.

There’s a string of these awful moments when his humanity, his mortality, is right there for them to witness. And, as strong as they’d like to believe themselves to be, they look away.

He’s fine now, all things considered.

The janky memory thing isn’t all that bad. He has milked it on more than one occasion. It’s how he keeps missing his physical therapy. Although, that has come around to bite him in the ass. He’s supposed to be using this cane they gave him and now someone shows up every week to take him to the appointment so he can’t even play it off like he’s forgotten. Typically it’s Emily or Derek but Garcia’s shown up and Reid even took him once. It’s very annoying. Doesn’t help that there are roughly thirteen people who he might run into in public who know he’s supposed to be using the cane and who will inquire about it or bring it up to someone else.

He hadn’t realized just how many people could get on his case until he’d run into Matt’s wife in the store and after having their brief, polite conversation where he mentioned Reid had called him not that long ago asking for advice on the BAUs current case, she asked about his knee. She said Garcia had been fretting over this last surgery he had and told her about it, she hadn’t thought that much time had passed. Was surprised he was back on his feet. It had taken six hours for him to get the phone call from Garcia and then Emily came over an hour later begging him to just “for the sake of my fucking sanity, Hotch, take it easy”. That’s when Garcia sat down and made him a calendar and he lost his say in matters of his grocery shopping and responsibility to take himself to doctor’s appointments.

He’s since won back grocery shopping. His doctor wrote him a note and Garcia conceded. She’s not stupid enough to toss their schedule for his doctor’s appointments though.

So, though he loathes it, he takes the cane with him when he leaves the house.

He’s learned his lesson. Penelope Garcia is one scary-ass lady who has far more control over him and everyone else than he’d care to realize.

Hotch hears the doorbell, muffled though it is, from outside. He’d known getting down on the ground was a bad idea with the way his knees have been hurting but he’s got zucchini and cucumbers laying out in the sun and while he ignored them yesterday, he knows he need to get them out today. Reid had expressed interest in them and Rossi’s likely to want the zucchini. He also knows Derek offered to take care of this sort of stuff but it’s a too warm Sunday morning and Derek’s likely chasing around a happy toddler.

Besides, he doesn’t have enough tomatoes to compensate for Derek’s work. That being said Derek would come over and do it regardless, he doesn’t mind.

“It’s about to rain,” Reid informs him the second he gets to the door. Hotch watches Reid’s eyes flick to his empty left hand, to the curve of his limp palm where his cane is supposed to be. Unlike the others, Hotch knows Reid will not say anything directly to him. Emily might ask where the cane is and Garcia would insist on going to get it but Reid will just anxiously flicker back and forth between Hotch’s face and his hand. Twisting and worrying until Hotch gets it himself. Which is surprisingly effective.

Hotch hums his agreeance, he could smell it in the air. Can tell it’s going to be a good storm with the shift and strength of the wind coming in. It’ll cool things off for a few hours then bring back the humidity and the mosquitoes with a vengeance.

“Do you think” Reid follows Hotch into the kitchen. He’s careful to keep a distance, not to push Hotch’s pace. He mills about in odd places to compensate their gates, looks at the book sitting on Hotch’s coffee table. “Do you think it’s going to rain a lot?” He’s a genius with the means to figure that out on his own and likely he already knows what he thinks the answer is. Hotch’s opinion is still important.

Hotch is in the fridge, rustling bags around as he finds the bag of vegetables he’s got set aside for Reid. He’s weird about fruits and vegetables, worries about bacteria and things but will eat a Poptart for every meal if given the chance. The logic is irrational but after twenty years of worrying about Reid’s diet, Hotch has finally found a solution to this particular problem.

“No tomatoes,” Hotch promises as he hands the bag over to Reid.

Reid nods, “I don’t like tomatoes.”

“I know.”

Reid takes his bag, smiles as he thinks about what things he can make with what he’s been given. “How much do you think it’ll rain?” he asks again.

Hotch hums, having heard Reid the first time. “It’ll be a good storm,” he figures, “might take out the electricity.” He only adds the last bit as a warning. Reid’s scared of the dark, a fact exacerbated by big storms that knock out the electricity. A common occurrence but no less startling.

“Oh.” Reid worries his lip, looks to the ground and everywhere but where Hotch is.

It’s likely to start soon, the winds really picking up and the sun’s drowned out by thick, rolling clouds. The storm of the century it’s likely not. Hotch doubts it’s even the sort people pull over on the side of the road to wait out but he decides to think it might anyway. Decides to tap Reid’s elbow and motion for him to follow, “come on.” He’s not even really sure where he’s going but it’ll lend a distraction. “Wait out the storm,” Hotch tells him, glancing back to make sure Reid’s following. “I wanna show you something.”

They spend the storm in his office, leaning over an old law school textbook. Reid has an affinity for them. No matter how many times Hotch uses them for a distraction, pulling them down from their dusty shelves, Reid still takes to them like it’s the very first time. He’ll sit for hours reading over the information but, his favorite parts, are how Hotch they are.

The notes he’s scribbled in the margins. Flashes of yellow highlighter. A coffee stain or smudge where his palm moves against not yet dried ink. Notes for cases or classes. Pages he’s dog-eared. They’re lived in, nearly perfect condition biographies. Of course, Reid gravitates to them.

By the time the storm rolls over Reid realizes he’s been alone in the office for hours. Sheepishly, he gets up and looks around. Makes his way through Hotch’s house until Reid finds him on the couch. As soon as Hotch sees him he takes off his reading glasses, placing a bookmark in his book and raising his eyebrow to inquire if Reid needs something.

“I should probably get going.”

Hotch doesn’t miss how suddenly bashful Reid gets, the way he looks down at the floor. “If you’d like,” Hotch won’t encourage him to leave. He spends a lot of time alone. He doesn’t mind have someone floating around. But Reid’s decided he’s overstayed his welcome so he moves cautiously towards the door. Taking his time because he knows Hotch will see him out.

“Be careful,” Hotch tells him as he opens himself up for a hug and Reid flushes a little under the attention but still steps into Hotch’s arms. Hotch gives him the bag of vegetables and frowns at the state of Reid’s hair. “Stop worrying so much,” Hotch fusses and they’re both aware of how parental his tone has gotten as frowns. He can see grey hairs here and there. Maybe not as present as his but there. “Do you want to talk about it? Whatever’s worrying you so much?”

Reid freezes, confused. Ordinarily, he’d give in, Hotch always fixes things but not this time. “I’m okay,” Reid promises.

Hotch doesn’t believe him but Reid’s an adult and Hotch knows when he’s needed Reid will know where to find him. All he can hope is that Reid comes to him if he really needs help. “Alright.”

They nod once more and Reid steps out but he’s not halfway down the driveway when Hotch shouts “I meant it, be careful driving home!”

Reid stops where he is, struck by the oddness of this situation. He made it his entire childhood without this sort of thing. His mother cared that he got home but he didn’t have friends to be out with. Never needed to stop and figure out how to call home and tell her he’d be home late. Now he’s lost his mother and he’s lost Gideon.

And he’s terrified he’ll lose Hotch next.

“I’ll text you when I get home,” he offers, feels silly the second it comes out of his mouth. Like Hotch would care enough for that. Like Hotch won’t be bothered with him texting him. Like Hotch is going to sit there and wait for the text.

Hotch narrows his eyes, “you’d better.”

Because Hotch will sit there and wait for the text.

“Yes, sir.”

Hotch is fine but Reid will keep watching just to be on the safe side.

[1ddiscourseoftheday]

🐧 Thurs 15 Oct ‘20 🏳️‍🌈

Discourse of the day (TM) was dominated by the news that Eleanor seems to have a new job! An announcement went out that she had been signed by River Talent Management (run by a woman who has formerly been both a Syco exec and a manager at Modest who handled 1D) as a model. The news was then picked up by TBHonest (a wordpress fan site with a quality of writing that basically confirms that they're posting fan sourced material, but interesting for their large quantity of both Eleanor focused and larrie-louie content, not a combo you see every day.) Eleanor seems to have been signed with River since about August. The fandom, as improbably but endearingly optimistic as ever, took this as confirmation that her current employment with Louis was ending and immediately started popping the champagne corks and trending video of the unforgettable occasion when 1D gleefully sang I Will Survive-- Gloria Gaynor's iconic breakup song/gay anthem of all gay anthems and mainstay of pride festivals and drag shows the world over-- onstage in response to the first Elounor breakup, which brings us to the disco-course of the day: Gloria Gaynor herself retweeted the vid! Of Harry singing her song! Tagging him! With sparkly emojis!! And followed up by going through and liking and answering hundreds of replies, most of them “omg queen” but also an assortment of teary larrie tweets and “she definitely went through the thing and was so confused but a queen we stan.”

Liam posted about anti-bullying campaign Spirit Day, an LGBTQ awareness day started in 2010 by a teen to draw awareness to the high suicide numbers among queer youth.“Use your voice & support LGBTQ youth,” says his post, perfectly describing what he himself is doing. Louis retweeted a petition to parliament for measures to end child food poverty in the UK (with concrete proposals about school meals and vouchers) from its author Marcus Rashford, a football player who has been making big waves since March with his work against child poverty in the UK. LTHQ continues to register new versions of old songs, but it seems it's just paperwork shuffling and nothing interesting. And Harry has won a fan voted Billboard Chart Achievement Award at the BBMAs and the masses are thirsty... to be thanked! Twitter harries will really get mad at anyone, not even Harry himself is exempt! HSHQ posted about the award, does that count? (Oh I'm getting a transmission...what's that? Ah they're saying NO that doesn't count and we're extra insulted by that acknowledgment that you know it's happening but haven't posted a video, go to hell Jeffrey! Well there you have it folks, they're circling like wolves, look out or they'll... complain some more about what they feel they’re owed!)

Loads more Niall interview stuff as he makes the rounds chatting about his concert. He says he “wrote some awful stuff, then wrote some better stuff”, and now is writing “some really good stuff” but he doesn't know when we'll hear it, and that this time gives him “a chance to think about what I wanna do next. What I wanna write about. How it’s gonna sound. Who I’m gonna work with.” He weighs in on online dynamics-- “by saying stuff on twitter, I’ll probably be fueling an argument or some sort of trolling towards that particular person... what I’m gonna say is that there are trolls on there and it just depends on how you take it... a lot of people are a lot more sensitive than I would be, and effectively get bullied on a day to day basis,” but that he was going to continue to “give it out to politicians.” Fans set out to prove him right about bullying by being so nasty in the replies to girlfriend Amelia's supportive hand clap emojis on his post announcing the concert that she deleted the comment, because apparently they don't like her on account of her... existing? Nice, guys, real classy. Anyway other tidbits, he tells us him and Shawn (Mendes) send each other stuff they're working on for honest feedback, that he sent Zayn a message about the zaby, and that if acting is anything like doing music videos he's not interested (“they're such a pain”) but he'd be into doing an animated voiceover and using his accents which he would in fact be PERFECT at! Hollywood take note your next comedic cartoon penguin is ready and waiting and his name is Niall Horan!

[soldrawss]

Could you please post more of your lovely wholesome Rottmnt content? Your AUs are golden and I’m sure all of us would appreciate, love and cherish anything you give us.

I’m ALWAYS down for posting some ROTTMNT AU content, thank you so much for your sweet words and the chance to bombard you with more of my au stories. (You didn’t specify which rottmnt content so I’m taking artistic liberty and answering with BBM content) He’s another little story I wrote for my Big Brother Mikey AU.  (Zach had asked if Raph ever outgrows Mikey because he’s genetically built like a freaking tank and I not only said yes, but Leo and Donnie eventually outgrow him too, and then this short was born)

So Mikey's not like, TALL by any means. At around 20 he reached his peak height of 5'7, and that was that. But for a good portion of their childhoods, he was the tallest. Only naturally so, since he was the oldest. 

But then the twins turned 16 and hit a goddamn growth spurt and shot up like vines from a fairy tale and effectively outgrew Mikey. Which Mikey saw coming... sorta...

The twins had been around his height for a while, so it wasn't too surprising when the day finally came that Mikey, as he was standing in the kitchen making some scrambled egg tacos, noticed Leo walk up beside him and reach for the stash of chocolate peppermint bark that Mikey had to use a stepstool to stash up on the top shelf, (He hid them up there from their Christmas holiday party because Raph and Donnie had kept eating them to the point of getting sick) and Mikey finally thought, "oh my god, there goes my best treat hiding place". And sure enough, when he forced the twins to stand by the hallway wall, (where they had all their heights measured with color-coded crayon lines, something they used to do as kids with their dad that Mikey didn't really grow out of continuing despite all the times they've moved) the blue and purple lines had overtaken the orange line as the tallest height.

And it was a little bittersweet, Mikey DEFINITELY teared up about it despite Leo and Donnie giving him hugs and teasing him good-naturedly about it, but it was a good bittersweet. Leo and Donnie were growing up. They weren't the fierce and protective kids they used to be, guarded with nervous and untrusting anger that kept cultivating in their unstable childhoods. An anger that was almost seemed second hand, there without them having to reach for it, and Mikey used to lose sleep over hoping that they wouldn't feel like the world was against them forever. He hoped they could be kids for a long as they could be, much longer than he ever had the chance to be. 

They were so small, they'd always been so small. Born a month and a half premature, and tiny in Mikey's already small 7-year-old arms. He figured they'd always be that small, always fit right there, perfectly in the circle of his arms.

They still do, but not in the fearful and sheltered and scared way they used to. Not in the perfect way that made Mikey seem bigger than life, and able to shelter them from the worst of the world’s hurt and pain and cold. 

Now it's with a bounce in their step and a wry smile on their lips and a contented sigh in the mornings on their way to school, and Mikey lifts his arms up because how DARE they think they can just sneak off to do cool teenager things and not give their embarrassingly affectionate big brother a hug goodbye. And they sorta crouch now, bending over so that Mikey can wrap his arms around them, but they do it, and it feels right, and they hug back just as hard and Mikey is thankful they didn't outgrow this. Mikey isn't upset when the twins grew taller than him. But it's a completely different story with Raph. Because Raph was always a big kid. He was a brick as a baby. Round with baby fat and soft cheeks that Mikey used to blow fat raspberries into to make him giggle and no matter how big he got, he was never too big for Mikey to carry around and hold in his arms forever. At least, that's what Mikey thought, anyway. He didn't notice when Raph stopped jumping into his open arms whenever he got home, not at first. Racing like he had something to prove from wherever he was in their little apartment complex to meet Mikey at the door with a tackling hug to Mikey's middle with all the force of a runaway freight train. Mikey never stumbles or falls back from the familiar weight, because he knows, like he knows all the freckles on Raph's nose and all the curls in his baby brother's hair, that he'll always be there to catch him no matter what, so it was never something Mikey was consciously aware of. And sure, maybe he's a little aware of Raph's growth, but again, Raph was always a big kid. Mikey was always buying him new clothes and shoes, because he either ripped or outgrew his old ones, and he never quite fit into Leo's or Donnie’s or Mikey's quite right. It isn't until Raph's in 8th grade, and he's coming home with a note for Mikey to read about him joining the football team as a freshman come the next school year, and the coach want's Raph to do summer training with the rest of the team, that Mikey has to take a step back because WHAT? Raph is a baby, no WAY is he ready to play football what on EARTH is the coach thinking. It isn't until LH, after hearing Mikey complain about it to him later that night, "Because I don't know El. Raph was pretty excited about it, but Football is whole worlds dangerous. Weren't you just telling me last week about the statistics on brain damage and the correlation it has with contact sports like football? And how that damage is permanent? Raph could get hurt, like SERIOUSLY hurt. I don't know WHAT the coach is thinking putting a Freshman on a varsity team," tells Mikey, "Well, I mean, look at him, Mike. Kid's built like a brick wall. He could probably take a few hits better than some of the seniors can," that Mikey finally looks at Raph and REALLY looks at him. Because,,, yeah ok, Raph IS built like a brick wall. 13 years old and suddenly he's a whole head taller than Mikey and about as big as 4 of him and WOAH when did Mikey's baby brother, this kid, HIS kid, the only one Mikey will ever have, the one he raised since he was 12 year's old, and holding to his chest, shielding from a pot of boiling water, get too big to hold to his chest anymore. Too big to shield. And Mikey has to sit down and not have a panic attack because oh no oh god oh no. All his brothers, all his little brothers, that Mikey put his EVERYTHING into raising, providing, protecting, are suddenly not so little anymore. Not so in need of protection anymore. 

Donnie was off in grad school, getting a billion degrees and doctorates because he was smart enough to do everything and anything, and Leo was on a basketball scholarship at NYU, full ride, and he's skating through life on charm and smarts and innate talent to turn everything he touches into gold and Raph is 13, but he's already getting offers to be a centerline guard on a football team at a high school he doesn't even attend yet, and coming home shining bright and brilliant because of it, the same way he comes home after acing a bio test or landing another lead role in his theatre club and suddenly they don't NEED Mikey anymore.  

They don't need him like they used to, and certainly not in a way Mikey needs them. Because they're growing up. Growing into their own people, with their own lives, and it's exactly what Mikey wanted, of COURSE, it is. Mikey used to kill himself, working days and nights and holidays and THEN some, working on borrowed time he didn't give to himself, to make sure that his brothers GOT the opportunity to grow like this. To be the magnificent and amazing people they were always meant to be, despite the situation the world put them in. But Mikey has only ever lived, really, for his brothers. Mikey never let himself have anything. He always gave it to his brothers, freely and willingly. But now that his brothers don't need him anymore, what's there left of Mikey? What was Mikey supposed to do now? Mikey stopped growing at 20, but his brothers kept growing and getting bigger and brighter and outshining the universe, and when Mikey wasn't looking, he thinks they got too big from little him anymore. (Cue an existential crisis from Mikey at age 28, where LH and Raph call Leo and Donnie at college, to come down and have an intervention with Mikey because OF FUCKING COURSE THEY DIDN'T OUT GROW HIM ARE YOU KIDDING??? Mikey will always be their big brother and they'll ALWAYS need him. Maybe not need him the same way they did when they were kids. But they'll still need his weekend phone calls, and daily cat videos sent in the group chat, and kisses to their temples and pillow fights on the nights Leo and Donnie spend a weekend home and warm hugs and warm breakfast casserole and the constant "I love you"’s that wouldn't fill their hearts the same way if it came from anyone other than their big brother. And Leo and Donnie are 21 and are tall enough to be trees, and Raph is 16 and can bench press all of them if he tried, and Mikey will never be taller than his little brothers again. But they'll never be too big for Mikey's hugs or love. They'll never be big enough where they won't need their big brother. Mikey is the only thing that they’ll never outgrow.) 

[moonbeambucky]

Hey Neighbor (Part 11)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 3245 Warnings: fluff

Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

A/N: A huge thank you to my wonderful beta Sam @buckyofthemyscira​​ Feedback is always appreciated!

PART 10 | HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST

It was cold. No, that was a massive understatement. It was freezing. It was the type of weather that caused a chill to settle in your bones before you had even stepped outside, and you definitely did not want to be outside. Not when the mere action of standing outside for more than one second caused your face to burn from the frigid winds.

You forgo style, bundling up in the thickest jacket you have with gloves, scarves and a hat. You were sweating under all your layers but it was better than freezing. Thankfully the wine bar you were meeting Wanda at was only a few more frozen steps away.

It’s warm in the small restaurant, packed with people looking to escape the cold just as you were. Wanda waves at you from a table and you questioned how she was even seated before you had shown up, considering the crowd this seemed like the type of place that wants your whole party available before seating.

“The owner is Sokovian,” she smiled, shrugging her shoulders proudly. “And we’re going to order the paprikash.”

There was no arguing with Wanda, though you did choose the other menu item you would be sharing. You liked tapas and sharing so you could have a bit of everything but what you wanted the most right now was some wine.

Time seemed to move by so slowly at the hospital today and you really couldn’t wait to get out. It was Saturday night but only you and Wanda were available to hang out and you didn’t mind that at all, in fact you really wanted to speak with her.

“So I wanted to talk to you…” You took a dramatic pause, taking a sip of wine for courage. “...about Bucky.”

Wanda’s eyes widened with intrigue as she leaned closer, a smile spreading across her face as she was ready to listen.

“That kiss on New Year’s was…”

Her hands shook with glee. “Oh my god I knew it!”

Your face scrunched with confusion. “What do you know?”

“You and Bucky! I knew this would happen. I called it and ahh I’m so excited.”

“Slow down there,” you chuckled, motioning your hands for her to settle down. “Wan, what I’m trying to say is that kiss was incredible.”

“Aaaannnnd?” Her mouth hung open wide with a smile.

“Wanda, this isn’t about Bucky!” Her expression dropped into a frown, she pouted as she took a large sip of wine. “Kissing him was amazing, seriously, he’s a fantastic kisser but kissing him made me realize how much I miss being kissed.”

When you first began college you were casually dating someone, wanting to enjoy life as a young student in New York. Then your world turned upside down. Working full time and going to school left you without a lot of free time and putting yourself out there to meet new people seemed more intimidating the longer you put it off. It was easy to just convince yourself that you didn’t have the time to devote to a relationship and everything was fine up until recently.

Wanda was right in a way, Bucky had a big impact on your life. Your friendship with him led to the larger friend group and soon you began to see things for how they looked on the surface. Everyone was in a relationship except you and Bucky, and you knew his opinions on dating.

Bucky’s kiss sparked so much inside you and ever since you’ve been trying to reconcile the feelings that you can’t let go of, longing and loneliness. Bittersweet thoughts plague your mind as you think about how much of a gentleman Steve is, placing his jacket over Peggy’s shoulders when she was cold, or how Sam knows just the way to get Wanda to burst out with joyful laughter; or Natasha and Clint and how they know each other so well as best friend’s do, their hearts filled to the brim with love.

You wanted all of that but truthfully you would settle for a fraction of affection. Maybe it was time to finally download some apps, go out a bit more and meet someone. It was a scary thought, too scary for the moment, but thankfully the wine helped distract you.

By your second glass you felt nice and cozy with warmth spreading across your cheeks. You eyed the last crostini, staring back at Wanda with a big hopeful expression because it was so delicious. She waved an approval, laughing as you cheered under your breath before grabbing it and taking a bite.

“So you’re going for it?” she asked, nodding to your phone on the table and the visible Tinder logo.

Wiping the corner of your mouth with your napkin first you answered, “Yes? I don’t know. I want to be but...”

Wanda grabbed your phone and tapped on the screen, much to your horror. “Look, there’s no harm in downloading the app, okay? That’s step one, easy. I won’t force you to sign up but you really should.”

“I’m scared Wan. What if no one likes me? What if I don’t have anything to say to someone and can’t hold a conversation? They’ll think I’m as boring as burnt toast and it’s gonna make me shut out the world forever.”

The wine comforted you again as you finished the glass, setting it down on the table and finding Wanda’s sympathetic eyes staring back at you.

“Y/N, you are not boring. You’re developing an organization with Tony freakin’ Stark! You’re a hardworking, kick ass social worker who saves lives– ”

“Wanda I– ”

“Don’t interrupt me while I’m hyping my best friend!” She said firmly while pointing her finger in your face. “You’re the glue to our whole group of friends. You’re an amazing, talented, beautiful, kind person and anyone that doesn’t see that isn't worth your time.”

Your lips had slowly pulled into a smile the more she went on. Leave it to Wanda to always have your back and know just what to say.

“Love you Wan, thank you. Okay, I’m gonna maybe try and make a profile by the end of this weekend…. Or next weekend.”

She laughed, rolling her eyes. “In the meanwhile you could always knock on Bucky’s door if you really wanted to.” Her brows rose mischievously.

“If I didn’t think it would ruin our friendship I would absolutely make out with Bucky every second of every free moment I had. Wanda, I swear you have no idea what those lips can do.”

Talking about Bucky suddenly made you feel a lot warmer and Wanda didn’t miss the large lump you swallowed as you took a drink. She smirked, holding back a comment she could have made. Instead the check arrived, saving you from any further embarrassment.

That night you stared at the app on your phone, contemplating whether you should make a profile or not. Craning your neck around you looked at the wall you shared with Bucky.

You hadn’t seen him much since the kiss on New Year’s, and your anxiety made you wonder if you had already ruined things. It was a silly thought. You shared a kiss, nothing more and as you are well aware, Bucky does not grow emotional attachments like that.

Opening your phone to your messages, you wrote a quick hello but then realizing it was a Saturday night you deleted your text without sending. There was no noise coming from next door meaning he was probably out, and the idea of interrupting him if he was with someone (which was a big possibility) made you feel really uncomfortable.

Tomorrow would be a new day, you can text him then when he’s alone.

You woke up with ambitions to be productive but the steady fall of snow that began to cover the city made you change your mind. Today was not a day to do anything despite needing to. You bundled yourself up in your comforter and made breakfast, carefully setting the bowl of cereal down on the coffee table as you tucked your feet into your blanket burrito.

Scrolling through Instagram you saw Bucky had posted a story from early in the morning, a black and white video of the snow coming down which reminded you to message him. You replied to his post, asking what he was doing up so early, then sending a secondary message realizing he might not have been up early but still awake.

Then your nerves got the best of you, thinking if that was in fact the case then you were probably disturbing him with all the messages you were sending now. You sent a final text, apologizing for bothering him, which probably made it all worse.

You shook your head, tossing your phone beside you as scrolled aimlessly to find something good to watch so you could distract yourself. Thirty minutes into a movie you heard a knock at your door.

Still bundled up, you shuffled towards your door, looking through the door and were surprised to see Bucky standing there.

“Hey,” you said, smiling as you opened the door.

He was wearing a dark blue sweatshirt and light grey sweatpants. His hair was loose and looking a little bit wild, as if he had only combed it through with his fingers.

“Are you okay?”

“Me? Yeah, I’m fine. What’s goin’ on?”

Bucky looked relieved, dragging a few fingers down his temple. “I messaged you back and I don’t know… you didn’t respond so I thought… well I don’t know what I thought but I’m glad you’re alright.”

A soft smile pulled at his lips as he stared back at you which set your mind at ease. “Did I wake you earlier?”

“Nah, I was up. Couldn’t really sleep last night.”

“That sucks. I kinda wanted to sleep all day since it’s so gross outside but I know it’ll mess me up for tomorrow so I’m just being a potato.”

Bucky chuckled, giving your “outfit” a once over as he seemed to approve. “So, what do potatoes do?”

“Well this potato is finally watching Back to the Future.”

Bucky blinked rapidly, his mouth falling open with bewilderment as he stared at you. “What do you mean finally? You’ve never seen Back to the Future?” he asked, with a hint of exasperation in his tone.

“I mean…” you looked everywhere but at Bucky, pressing your lips together as you tried to break the news to him gently, “I’ve seen clips here and there and I know things about it… Doc Brown, the DeLorean, flux capacitor...”

Every word broke Bucky’s heart. “You’ve never seen Back to the Future?” he repeated.

“Wrong, I’ve seen about thirty minutes of Back to the Future.” You laughed as Bucky threw his hands up in shock. “Do you want to watch it with me?”

Bucky gladly accepted your invitation, locking up his place before he went into yours.

He muttered under his breath, still in disbelief that you haven’t seen this movie as he made himself comfortable on your couch. “The score! Do you know about the score and how amazing it is?!”

“I can’t wait for you to tell me,” you winked, anticipating an earful of musical knowledge. “Can I get you anything?”

“Nah, I’m good.” A chill ran down his spine that he tried to shrug off. “Maybe a blanket? Oh wait.”

He turned around to pull the fuzzy blanket over himself but it definitely wasn’t thick or large enough to keep him warm in this weather. The only real blanket you had was currently wrapped around your body so you wanted to share.

You took it off your shoulders and sat beside Bucky, removing the fuzzy blanket so you could drape your own across both of you. Then you placed the fuzzy blanket on top of that to add an extra layer of warmth.

You smiled looking at Bucky as you asked if he was ready to watch the movie though your eyes drifted to those lips of his, perfectly pink and so much softer than you imagined. The memory of your kiss makes your heart stutter and it takes a moment for you to realize you need to press play and not think about kissing him.

It doesn’t help that you’ve shuffled closer to each other. It’s for warmth, nothing more. Bucky tried his best not to distract you from watching but he was squirming in his seat, itching to talk about the music.

“See how the score begins softly? You hardly notice the drums. Then everything gets stronger, the drums, the horns, and as Doc spots the car coming down the empty street the score amps up even more signaling the danger. It’s fantastic!”

You didn’t say anything, you couldn’t. Somehow Bucky’s passion for his work had stunned you into silence and all you could do was nod, smiling so genuinely your cheeks began to hurt as you listened to him. Bucky may not realize the way he glows when he talks about music but you see it, he’s shimmering brighter than snow in sunlight.

It was nice to spend a lazy Sunday with Bucky, two potatoes that continued to watch movies and order in food when you were hungry. Plans with everyone for the following weekend were brought up but not once did he mention the New Year’s party. Not that you expected him to. It was nice not having the kiss awkwardly hang over your friendship.

“Blanket warm. I don’t want to leave,” he whined before getting up.

You walked him to the door, stealing a quick look at the way the sweatpants hugged his ass. Clearing your throat in an awkward cough you wished him goodnight, “I’ll try not to sit on my phone the next time you text me.”

Bucky leaned in to hug you goodbye but his lips made a detour, feeling them press against the soft skin of your cheek.

“G-goodnight Y/N.”

You stood in your doorway, waiting to let the breath out that you hadn’t realized you were holding in until after he closed his door. It’s nothing, just a friendly kiss on the cheek, nothing more than that.

“Hi Mr. Napoli.” You smiled as you approached the older man in his hospital bed. “I spoke with your son and he said he’s on his way.”

You had to repeat yourself louder a few times for him to understand but he gave you a gummy smile when he finally did. He had come into the hospital late last night after falling in his apartment and breaking his hip. Living alone had apparently become more difficult over the last few months so you’ve prepared options to discuss with his family when they arrive.

As Mr. Napoli continued to speak with you, your ears perked up at a loud conversation. Looking up for a moment you caught the gaze of a man staring at you as he stood over the bed of another man. He was tall and slim, dressed nicely in a suit under a wool peacoat. His hair was dark and slicked back though it was cropped short on the sides, with stubble peppering his face and neck.

He smiled, nodding as if to convey an apology for the noise he and his friend made. You felt your cheeks pulling the corner of your lips slightly but focused your attention back to Mr. Napoli.

“Miss, can I have more water?”

“Of course, let me ask,” you replied.

Scanning the area you checked for any nurses that might be around. Unable to find any that weren’t in the middle of something, you told Mr. Napoli you’d be right back with it. The ER kept the refreshments for the patients in a locked room so you walked towards the nurses’ desk in hopes someone there could help you.

“Thanks Stacie.” You smiled back as she needed to call the doctor to make sure this wouldn’t interfere with Mr. Napoli’s pre-surgical prep.

As you turned to step away from the desk you nearly walked into a body. Gasping, it took you a moment to realize it was the man from before.

“Sorry about that,” he said, chuckling lightly. “I wanted to apologize about before. Hope my buddy and I weren’t interrupting your work.” His tone was soft with a heavy New York accent.

“That’s alright, you didn’t,” you said, studying his features up close. His eyes were much darker than you realized, like deep chasms that were full of mystery. Pale pink lips pulled into a smile as he extended his hand towards you.

“I’m Billy.”

You shook his hand, able to tell right away that he was the type of guy that takes pride in taking care of himself. His hand was lotion soft, not a strand of hair was out of place and his skin looked so flawless you were a little jealous.

His gaze fell to your ID badge. “So, Y/N. How long have you been in social work?”

“So eager getting to know me, Billy?”

Billy shut his eyes as a smile crept across his face. “I can’t help it, I’m very observant.”

Your lips pulled into a smirk as you stared at him skeptically until Stacie called your name. She told you to wait a moment as she got the okay to give Mr. Napoli some water. Turning back to Billy you noticed his stance was taller and stiff.

He raised his hand to salute. “Former Lieutenant William Russo, US Marine Corps.”

“I get it now. You’re not just a creep that reads people’s name tags.” Your smirk gave way to a tiny smile and Billy relaxed.

Through a laugh he replied, “I try not to be.”

His smile was pretty, making his whole face light up, those eyes sparkling like onyx gems. Your attention was turned away for a moment as Stacie handed you a plastic pink pitcher full of water.

“Well, I have to get this drink back to my patient. It was nice to meet you.”

As you began to walk away you heard Billy’s footsteps rapidly catching up behind you.

“Wait, Y/N.” You turned to find him digging out something from his pocket. “Maybe I could take you out for a drink one day?”

He handed you a sleek black card which you put in your pocket. “Goodbye Mr. Russo,” you said, giving him a tiny salute that made him smile again.

Later that evening as you were getting your coat on in preparation to leave you felt something digging in your hip. You remembered Billy’s card from earlier, pulling it out now to finally read it.

The card was as dark as his eyes and in bold white text was the name of the company, ANVIL. Beneath it was his name and title, CEO. No wonder he dressed so well. His number was staring back at you.

You thought back to your conversation with Wanda, maybe you should go for this. You were still too scared to make a profile on Tinder, worried about what strangers might think of you but after meeting a gorgeous man that actually wants to take you out it gave you some renewed confidence.

Not wanting to seem too eager (or desperate) you waited two days before texting Billy. A day of back and forth texting led to plans to go out. Your heart raced with anxiety; maybe you weren’t ready after all.

PART 12

[hookingminor]

three lessons (2) - mat barzal

a/n: kinda blacked out and just wrote all of this I have no idea if its even good also thank you for all the love on part 1, I love receiving feedback, I always read the tags y’all add thank you so much

word count: 4.2k

warnings (18+): loss of virginity, smut

*italics are flashbacks

PART ONE HERE / PART THREE

-

“So what made you come up with this idea?” Mat asked when you cuddled back up to finish the movie. After you’d hugged him to death in a thank you, he gave you his shirt to slip on before asking if you wanted to finish the movie. You felt a little awkward just using him to make you cum and then leaving, so you agreed.

He’d been wondering for the past week why you were doing this. When you came to him that first day, he was too in shock to process. You were so confident in your answers, he didn’t question your intentions. Right now, he was hoping they weren’t misguided and that he didn’t just give you your first orgasm because you’d given into peer pressure.

“You’re going to think it’s stupid,” you said, running your fingers lightly over the arm wrapped around your waist.

“Try me,” he persisted.

“Well, my friends are always talking about their sex lives, and I kind of felt left out, you know? It’s not like I was saving myself or felt pressured to do it, I just wanted to get it over with. I know that sounds bad, but I wanted to start moving on with my life, I guess,” you explained, “And it’s not like the opportunity was going to arise for me naturally any time soon.”

“That doesn’t sound stupid, if that’s what you want to do. I know a lot of girls take this seriously, so I just wanted to know,” he said.

“That’s never really been me,” you replied, “I just never got far enough into a relationship with someone to actually do it. I’ve only ever gone on a couple dates,” you added the last part sheepishly.

“Soon enough you’ll be taking on the whole town, though. You’ve got that to look forward to,” Mat said with a laugh, easing the tension in the room. The last thing he wanted to do was make you feel embarrassed or insecure.

You chuckled at his joke, feeling yourself relax, “If they’re all half as good as you, I’ll be having the time of my life.”

“Might be a little hard…” Mat contemplated, “I have been told I’m a very gracious lover…”

“I’d chirp you if I could but I don’t really have any experience to go off of so I’ll let you have this one,” you teased back.

“Give it a few months. I’ll be waiting for your final answer,” he said, nipping playfully at your earlobe.

“I’ll be sure to give you my full reports,” you threw back with an eye roll, sarcasm lacing your voice.

-

When you left Mat’s apartment, he promised he’d text you later to tell you his availability in the upcoming weeks.

His availability happened to be very limited over the next week and a half considering he had two home games before he had to leave for a short roadie. Obviously, neither of you could do anything about that, but as the days passed, you felt your insides grow in anticipation. You’d only had one little taste, and you were already about to beg him for more. Maybe it was a good thing you hadn’t had sex until now, you had a feeling you were going to be an insatiable lover. You’d nearly gotten yourself off daily just replaying the memories of Mat’s tongue on you.

It was almost two weeks from your first lesson when you finally talked about your next one.

Mat: You busy this weekend?

Your heart sped up quickly as you typed your response.

You: I’m free every evening after 5

Mat: Want to come over Friday night around 8? Plan to stay the night

You: Oh? What’s the plan this time?

Mat: Come over and you’ll find out

You: … I guess I can fit you into my schedule

Mat: See you then, baby

-

Friday came quickly, much more quickly than you thought it would. All the mental preparation in the world couldn’t help the nerves that wracked your body that day. The classes you had passed in a blur, you weren’t even sure if you even paid attention to any of your professors. You had a study group session planned after your last class, but you decided to skip since you figured your brain wouldn’t be able to focus for another hour.

Then 5pm rolled around, and you were beginning to get restless. You tried making yourself dinner beforehand, but the thought of eating anything made you want to throw up. It’s not like you were nervous, per se, but more anxious as you thought about what Mat had in mind for the night. You hoped it was sex.

God, you really hoped it was sex. Two weeks had you wound tight like an old clock, and you hadn’t even touched his dick yet.

And now you were thinking about his dick, which didn’t help your focus at all.

You spent the next couple hours getting ready. Forty-five minutes were spent in the shower, shaving just about everything you could. You didn’t know Mat’s preference, but it was better to be safe than sorry your first time around, right? The next half hour was spent blow-drying your hair and doing your makeup. And the last hour was spent deciding what to wear. It shouldn’t have taken you that long, but you couldn’t choose which one was better. Not to say that you bought a couple options of lingerie, but a girl only lost her virginity once; you were going to make this count.

Eventually, you settled on a black set, spending extra time to hype yourself up in the mirror before covering up with a skirt and loose sweater.

Before you knew it, you were standing outside his door, waiting for Mat to let you in.

He greeted you with a warm smile, dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a white shirt.

“Hey, come on in. You look great,” he said, opening the door wider.

“What’s that smell? Are you cooking something?” You asked, smelling an aroma coming from the kitchen.

“Yeah, well, trying to cook. The only thing I can handle is pasta, so I hope you like alfredo,” Mat chuckled, “I figured I should at least try to make tonight somewhat memorable.”

“You’re going to be the first man I sleep with, I think that already makes you pretty memorable,” you joked, running your hands along the kitchen countertop.

“Uh, dinner should be ready in, like, two minutes, so go ahead and take a seat,” Mat said, rushing back over to turn off the stove.

“Is it going to be edible?” You asked, pulling out a chair at the table.

“We’re about to find out. If you get food poisoning, I’m not liable,” he said, setting a plate in front of you.

“Is that how you win over women? Poisoning them on the first date?” You asked.

“Technically, this is the second date,” he pointed out, “And I usually don’t cook, so don’t get used to it.”

You picked up a forkful of pasta and brought it to your mouth.

“Well, as far as pasta goes, this isn’t the worst I’ve ever had,” you complimented after swallowing your first bite.

“Oh thank god,” he said in relief, “I’ll take that.”

You continued to eat in silence for a couple minutes, glad to finally get something in your stomach. You asked Mat about his latest road trip and the games, and he asked you about school and work. The conversation flowed so well between you two, there weren't any awkward pauses or topics you both didn’t have an opinion on. You found yourself laughing at his stories, like, head thrown back laughing and eyes crinkling laughter. You’d never felt more at ease than you did right now.

Mat’s eyes were bright, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had this much fun with someone. He felt his heart sink a little at that thought: he was thoroughly enjoying his time with you, and he wasn’t even trying to woo you. You looked so beautiful in front of him, eating his subpar pasta but acting like it was the best, and smiling so hard he could see the small tears beginning to form in the corners of your eyes. He probably looked just as ridiculous to you, but he couldn’t stop himself from smiling.

Mat began wondering why he’d never talked to you earlier. Sure, you’d seen him at casual hangouts when Anders brought you around, but he’d never really given you the time of day. And for the life of him, he couldn’t recall why he hadn’t.

He didn’t notice you then, but he was noticing you now. And that spelled trouble for Mat in big, bolded capital letters.

You’d stayed at the table a whole thirty minutes after you’d finished dinner, going through another two glasses of wine before the conversation began to settle.

“Here, let me get that for you,” Mat said, quickly getting up to take your plate when you began to pile your silverware up.

“No, I got it. You can’t cook and clean, Mat,” you argued, shifting the plate out of his reach.

In his brief moment of confusion, you snatched the plate from his hand, shuffling over to the sink as quickly as possible.

“You’re not doing my dishes,” he chuckled, slapping your hands out of the way. Water splashed up everywhere, soapy bubbles coating the counter. Even a few flew up into your hair, and you flinched your eyes shut as the water hit your face.

“I’m sorry,” he said, fully laughing now, “Actually, I’m not sorry. I told you not to touch the dishes.”

“Sorry for trying to be a good guest,” you snorted, flicking your wet fingers at his face with a smirk.

Mat grasped the wrist in front of his face, tugging you closer. His other hand lifted to grip your waist and pressed your front to his body, and your laughter suddenly died down.

“How about we just leave them for now?” He asked.

“They’ll just be even harder to wash later then, idiot.”

“I’m sure I can persuade you.” You raised your brow at him.

Mat’s signature crooked smirk appeared on his face as he let the hand on your waist drift to squeeze your ass. You let out a squeak of surprise, not used to being with someone this forward. His eyes crinkled at your shocked expression, and he leaned down to press his lips to yours. Your arms slid up Mat’s toned arms, going to rest along his shoulders. Both of his hands were now placed on your ass, and you could feel him harden against your stomach.

You moaned into his mouth, and Mat slipped his tongue into your mouth. You weren’t sure if you would ever get tired of kissing him; he was a phenomenal kisser. You could see why they paid him the big bucks to play hockey if he was half as good at skating as he was kissing.

He broke the kiss shortly after you trailed one hand down the expanse of his chest.

“Wanna take this to the bedroom? I’ve been wanting to get you out of this skirt since you walked through the door,” Mat grunted against your lips, stopping your hand before it could reach his belt.

You nodded your head vigorously (and it probably looked a little psychotic), eyes wide with lust. He took your hand in his and led you down the hallway, the dirty dishes long forgotten. Mat closed his bedroom door behind you, pressing you against it and reconnecting your lips.

His hands came up to hold your waist under your sweater, pulling his face away to move down your neck. Your head fell back to knock against the door and your lips parted in a quiet moan as Mat sucked a mark on your throat.

You took the opportunity to take in his room, and your gaze fell to the candles that were lit on his dresser.

“Did you get candles for this?” You asked breathlessly, arching your body into his. Mat pulled away for a moment, following your gaze to the candle.

“Yeah…” he said sheepishly, “I didn’t really know what to get. I wanted it to be at least a little special.”

“That’s sweet,” you said, running your hands through his hair, “It’s a good thing I also got you something too, then.” You stepped away to give him, what you hoped was, a seductive look.

“I really hope this isn’t some kind of joke about your virginity because if it is, I won’t laugh,” Mat said.

“No, you ass,” you laughed, punching him lightly in the arm, “I was trying to insinuate I was wearing something underneath.”

“Oh? Does that mean I can take this off?” He asked, both brows raised in curiosity as he tugged at the hem of your sweater.

“If you don’t, I will,” you teased.

After your confirmation, Mat pulled your top off easily and casted it to the side as he took in your appearance. His hands came up to trace the lacy designs along the cup, gently squeezing your clothed breast.

“Holy shit,” he said in awe, “I don’t mean to sound like a perv, but your tits are amazing.”

“Thank you. I always thought they were my best quality,” you joked.

Mat could hear the playful lilt of your tone, but he was still disagreeing in his mind. Your tits were amazing, but they were not your best quality. Maybe second best, but the sound of your laugh erupted in his mind when he thought about what he liked most about you; first he thought about your laugh, then your eyes, and then his mind eventually snapped back to reality where your nearly perfect tits were in front of him.

“Are you just going to stand there or are you going to take off my skirt?” You asked him, pulling him from his trance. Mat nodded his head eagerly, like a dog being thrown a bone. He dropped his hands to your waist, wasting no time to rid you of the skirt and throwing it to join your top.

“Jesus,” he breathed out when he saw the strappy garters, “Get on the bed now.”

You threw him a saucy smirk, sauntering over to the bed before sitting on the edge.

“Do I get to touch you this time?” You asked when he came to stand in front of you.

Mat brought his hand up to grab your hair, pulling it slightly so your head was tilted up to look up at him. He gave you a searing look before saying “Go ahead.”

You used your hands to brush against his abdomen underneath his shirt, raising it as far as you could from your seated position. He took the hint, pulling back to shrug it off quickly. Your hands stayed on his chest, sliding down until you met the buckle of his belt. You quirked an eyebrow, “This too?”

Mat answered your question for you, using his own hands to move them aside while he unbuckled his pants and shimmied them off. Your eyes followed his hands, noticing the way his boxer briefs bulged. Widening your eyes, partly in shock and the other part in disbelief that you were in this situation, your mouth fell open slightly as you tried to think of something to say.

Thankfully, you didn’t have to say anything because Mat was already pulling your head back and leaning down to kiss you again. He pushed you back against the bed, his hands reaching down to grab your thighs. His knees hit the bed, and he lifted your body up slightly so he could shuffled you back further. Your hands went back tug at the hair on the back of his head, and Mat groaned loudly into your mouth. You jotted this note down mentally, planning to use this to your advantage in the future.

He slid his arm underneath your back and you arched up into him. You could feel the hard press of him against your thigh, and you lifted your leg to wrap around his waist. You tried your best to thrust your hips against him, searching for any kind of friction.

Mat’s hand quickly unclasped your bra, and you pulled your arms down so you could slip it off.

“Fuck, baby,” he cursed, glancing down to your exposed breasts.

His head ducked down to nip at your neck, lips sucking along your collarbone. Mat lifted his hand to squeeze your breast, using his fingers to twist your nipple. He moaned against your skin at the gasp that fell from your mouth. Lowering his head even further, he closed his lips over your other nipple, desperate to pull more sounds from you. He was rewarded when you let out a pitched whine as he lightly bit at your breast.

Feeling yourself grow wetter at his ministrations, you pulled him back up to your lips by his hair, already missing the way he kissed you. You snaked one hand between your bodies, palming him over his boxers. Mat let out a distressed groan, thrusting his hips into your hand. You squeeze his length over the fabric which caused Mat to pull back swiftly.

“I know I said you could touch,” he panted, “but I genuinely think I’ll explode if you do.”

You chuckled at his breathless state but removed your hand from him anyway. He shimmied further down your body instead, taking a moment to unsnap the garters from your tights. Sliding off your panties, he took the tights off with them before resuming his spot between your legs.

“Don’t tease, Mat,” you said with a gasp. As much as you wanted his tongue on you, you were nearing the verge already.

“Fine, but I’m going down on you later tonight then,” he said, looking at your pussy with a longing look. He brought his fingers to run between your folds, gathering at the wetness building up. You could feel how soaked you were, but the obscene sounds you heard as he slipped a finger inside of you only confirmed that. Entering a second one, he slowly thrust his fingers in and out, curling to hit your g-spot.

“I said no teasing,” you whined loudly, tugging harshly at his hair. Mat chuckled darkly, removing his fingers from you despite your protest. He leaned back, stepping off the bed quickly to take off his boxers.

Now, you hadn’t expected him to be small, but being faced with his dick in person, you began wondering if you should’ve started with someone more… average. Your jaw dropped slightly, and Mat laughed at your reaction. He was already climbing back over you, condom in hand, before you could say anything.

“You’re sure you still want this?” He double checked, ripping open the foil packet. You nodded to answer his question, mouth still agape as you watched him roll the condom onto his hard length.

“If you’re not in me within the next minute, I’m going to combust,” you said.

“You flatter me, Y/N,” he replied, hooking a leg over his waist, “Stop me if anything hurts, okay?”

Mat waited for your nod, looking into your eyes for any sense of hesitation, but you couldn’t be more sure about wanting this.

He lined himself up with your entrance, slowly pushing inside of you. You felt yourself stretch open as he pressed into you, the feeling unfamiliar and awkward but not at all unpleasant.

Mat paused his movements when he heard a particular strangled noise leave your throat.

“Everything good?” He asked, checking in on you.

“Yeah, all good. Just give me a second,” you whispered, giving yourself a few moments to adjust to the new sensation. Mat stayed still as he waited for your indication to continue, bending his head to pull you back into a heated kiss.

Relaxing under his touch, you moaned into his mouth, mumbling a quiet “keep going” against his lips. Mat resumed his movements, pushing further into you at an agonizingly slow pace until you felt him bottom out.

“Holy fuck, you’re so ti— nope not going to think about how tight you are,” he said, grunting lowly into your neck. It was taking everything in him to not pull out and just thrust back into you, but he remained as still as he could until you gave him permission.

“Please move, Mat,” you groaned out, finally feeling yourself stretch to accommodate him with more ease.

He pulled out almost all the way before thrusting back in at a gentle maneuver, your head falling back in pleasure. Mat took your resounding moans as signs of encouragement, and he crashed his lips against yours in another kiss. He rocked in and out of you, slowly increasing his speed the louder your moans got.

You tangled a hand in his hair, needing something to grip to relieve the tension you felt building inside of you.

It didn’t take long for the discomfort to turn into backbending pleasure. Soon you were arching yourself as much as you could into him, trying to gather as much friction as possible. Your breasts rubbed against his chest, and he was clutching at your back to keep you close.

“I’m close,” you said into his ear, one arm extending over his shoulder to dig your fingernails into his back.

Mat’s hand slipped between you, reaching to press his thumb against your clit. He drew out tight circles against it, and you felt yourself teeter on the edge of orgasm.

“Come on, baby,” he said into your neck, and you squeezed around him in response. He pressed harder into your clit, biting at the skin of your neck before soothing it over with a kiss.

You clenched around him even tighter, and let your eyes flutter close as you came.

Mat’s hand gripped hard on your thigh, and you were sure you were going to feel the outlines of his fingertips pressed into your skin for weeks to come. His rhythm grew more erratic as his breathing stuttered, and soon you felt him still altogether as he released inside of you.

Your breathing slowed down a few seconds after Mat finished, his breaths quickly calming until they were in sync with yours. You whined slightly when he pulled out of you before flopping onto his back. You slowly came back to earth, the pulse between your legs diminishing with each passing minute. Mat leaned over the side to dispose of the condom and then turned onto his side to gaze at you.

You glanced over to see his cocky smile and you couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

“Women don’t usually laugh after having sex with me,” he said in mock offense, but the smile remained on his face.

“I’m laughing because I’m happy. I finally did it. I’m no longer a virgin,” you said happily, flipping over to rest your head on your hand, matching his pose.

“We better alert the media,” he joked.

“‘Breaking News: This just in, local college student finally pops her cherry,’” you exclaimed in your best reporter voice, and he laughed heartily.

He had such a contagious laugh. It was the most absurd, yet fun, laugh you’d ever heard. It was impossible to not laugh when he did, which is why you were both laughing hysterically now.

“But really, Mat, thank you,” you said seriously once the laughter began to die down. He nodded his head in agreement, his smile falling until you could only see the playfulness within his eyes.

“Round two in the shower?” You asked hopefully after a couple seconds.

“Already? We just finished,” he teased, bringing a hand to brush your hair behind your ear.

“Are you saying you’re tired already? What about that professional athlete stamina?” you wondered with a raised brow.

“You joke about it now, but you’ll be regretting that soon,” he said, lightly flicking your nose, “Get in the shower, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

You got up eagerly, scampering off to the bathroom in excitement for going another round. Mat glanced over his shoulder, watching you disappear into the bathroom.

It was when he heard the water turn on and the shower door close that he let his face fall completely.

Your second date was over.

Second lesson, he corrected himself. He was nothing but a fluffer for you, and that hurt him more than he cared to admit right now.

His chest tightened at the thought of your time together slowly coming to an end. He wanted to keep seeing you. You were lively, smart, funny, and hot. He had yet to meet a box you didn’t tick for him, and that scared him a lot.

Mat wasn’t the type to catch feelings this quickly, especially for someone he knew he couldn’t have; it’s not like you being his captain’s sister was completely lost on him. God knew he'd been on the receiving end of caught feelings plenty times, and he hated being the bad guy in those situations.

But despite that, he found himself enjoying your time together more than he probably should’ve.

Also, there was the fact that you were probably one of the sexiest women he’d ever slept with and looked like a goddess when you came.

Really, when it came down to it, Mat was left with no other option.

He had to stall your next “lesson” for as long as possible. As long as he needed to convince you he wanted more than just sex.