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harrywavycurly · 3 days ago

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Worth the Fight: Bad Energy

Masterlist: Here

CW: language, mentions of baby stuff, pregnancy symptoms and one moment where Ethan is mean (not to you lol)

A/N: I feel like y’all are working your way to a good place and maybe y’all can be friends soon if nothing happens that could potentially get in the way?👀✨

Tag List: @kookjipao @msolbesg @lomlolivia @namoreno @outofthisworl-d @mema10 @watarmelon212 @natykn @sassamanda77 @st-ev-ie @ghayda0 @hannah9921 @indierockgirrl @chaoticthoughts2022 @lizsogolden @gmikaelson @styleswithaseaview @sofaritsalrightt @babegoals @fangirl509east @one-sweet-gubler @stylesftcher @umadirectioner @last-saturday-night @montgomery-929496 @laughterismytherapy @hisparentsgallerryy @jerseygirlinca @behindmygreyeyes @mads3502 @tpwkdpr @unfuckwitablenarry @itscoucouharry @latedirectionerera @ell0ra-br3kk3r

Summary: You and Harry have sort of an odd routine going and the two of you begin discussing baby names and rocking chairs✨

“Morning.” Harry softly greets you when you open your apartment door, you give him a small smile as you move out of his way so he can enter your apartment allowing him to head straight for your kitchen. You let a yawn escape you as turn so you can follow him after closing the door but Harry pauses right before he enters the archway of your kitchen and turns his head to look at you over his shoulder. “Don’t forget to-”

“Lock the door.” You finish for him with a tired sigh making Harry have to bite his bottom lip to keep the soft chuckle to himself. He enters the kitchen while you turn and quickly lock the door so you can join him and take your usual spot at your little table while he busies himself with cutting fruit and the random veggies.

It’s been almost two and a half weeks since Harry came over to your house far too early in the morning just to make you some green juice and since then he’s been coming over every other morning. The only difference is he now changes what he puts in the juice depending on how you’re feeling about certain fruits or vegetables and he also secretly adds a bit of protein powder because he knows you’re in more of a snacking stage and the odds of you sitting to eat a whole meal are slim. Most of the time the two of you engage in some simple small talk while you sit at the table and watch him cut things up, not getting too deep about anything minus Harry asking questions such as how you slept and if you’re feeling okay or if your ankles are still swollen.

“Do you want pine-”

“Oh please don’t even mention that evil fruit.” You say with a groan making Harry just nod as he puts the pineapple back in your fridge and grabs a mango instead. “I don’t understand why something that tastes so good has to hate me so much.” You pout as you place your chin in the palm of your hand while your other one rests on your bump as you lean over your small kitchen table.

“I’m guessing it’s still causing you some reflux issues then?” He asks as he looks around your fridge for the bag of spinach he just brought over the other day.

“Yes but sometimes I think it’s worth it but not today.” You explain with a yawn making Harry take a half step back from the fridge so he can turn his head and look at you with a raised brow. Normally you’re a bit sleepy when he comes over for your morning juice before you head off to work or he has to go run an errand or attend a meeting but he’s never seen you this tired before and it makes him a little concerned about how well you slept last night.

“How did sleep last night?” He questions as he hears you let out a small sigh as you close your eyes and give him a shrug.

“I don’t know if I actually got any sleep last night so I guess that would mean I slept horribly? No that sounds a bit dramatic. I’d just say I slept not very well.” Your mumbled rant like explanation makes Harry chuckle as he shakes his head and closes the doors to your fridge, he places the fruits and veggies for you juice on the counter near the cutting board and then turns so he’s fully facing you.

“Well come on then.” You slowly open your eyes just as Harry takes a few steps towards you with his hand out. “You can drink your juice in bed and take a nap afterwards or something. But you need rest. It’s important.” He tries to not sound bossy or rude because he knows the two of you are in a weird place right now and he doesn’t want to do or say anything that would make you upset enough to kick him back out to just being allowed in your hallway.

“You’re just trying to get me out of the room so you can put weird stuff in my juice.” You accuse him with a playful glare as you sit up and take his hand so he can help you get up from the chair.

“You caught me.” He jokes as he wraps his hand around your smaller one before taking a step back so you have room to stand in front of him. “I’m just trying to load your juice up with things you hate.” He adds as you let go of his hand and head out of the kitchen, he stands there for a moment not sure if you want him to follow you or not since really the only rooms he’s ever been inside of in your apartment are the living room and kitchen.

“Can you grab my water for me please? I left it on the counter.” You call over your shoulder as you make your way to your bedroom. Harry doesn’t hesitate as he turns and grabs your green and pink water bottle off the counter and walks out of the kitchen into the living room.

He catches a glimpse of you just before you enter your bedroom at the end of the hallway and for some reason he feels nervous as he stands there with your water bottle in his hand. For a moment he worries that you’re only being this relaxed about him entering your bedroom because you’re exhausted and don’t really know what you’re doing or saying. But then again he knows you well enough by now to know you are usually always the one who tries to be polite and civil out of the two of you, it’s usually him that messes it up with his unkind words or actions. So he just shakes off his nerves and heads down the hallway to leads to your bedroom, he can’t help but pause at the door on his right that he knows is your spare bedroom because you told him one morning how you’re happy you splurged for the two bedroom unit when you moved in so the twins won’t have to share a room with you.

When you get to your bed you look over your shoulder and when you don’t see or hear Harry you quirk a brow as you turn and take a few steps towards your bedroom door. You poke your head out and you can’t help but smile when you see him standing in front of the twin’s room, you take a few more steps so your about halfway between where he’s standing and your bedroom.

“You can look inside if you want.” Your voice being so close to him makes him jump a bit causing the ice in your water to clink against the metal sides of your bottle.

“Oh uhm I don’t-”

“You don’t what? Want to see where your children will be sleeping and playing while they’re with me? That’s rude.”

“Well when you put it like that then okay yeah I’ll take a look.” You chuckle as you reach for your water bottle so you can take it from him, Harry chews on his bottom lip as he turns to look at you and when you just give him a reassuring nod as you take a sip of your water he places a hand on the doorknob and twists it open.

Harry feels his heart beat faster as he takes a step inside the room, he obviously knows that you’re carrying twins meaning two babies but seeing two cribs set up really seems to make it feel all the more real for him. He steps further inside the room and places a hand on one of the cribs as he looks around the room. The walls are a soft white and to no surprise you’ve hung up a little bookshelf in the corner that has a few books already on it, the cribs are also white and when he looks down he sees you picked out matching sheets for them that have little story book animals on them such as Pooh Bear and Petter Rabbit.

“It’s not done yet but sometimes when I can’t sleep or I’m restless I come in here and-”

“Did you put these together yourself?” He asks as you walk over to the dresser on the opposite side of the wall the cribs are on.

“I did yeah.” You answer as you turn and look at him, his eyes are a little wide and you know he wants to say something about how that couldn’t have been good for your back or your ankles. “It wasn’t very hard and it didn’t take long.” You explain as you place a hand over your very obvious baby bump, giving it a soothing rub as you walk over to the bookshelf.

“I haven’t uh-I haven’t gotten cribs or really anything yet.” He informs you as he runs his hand that’s not gripping the side of the crib through his hair as all of a sudden a feeling of being unprepared and overwhelmed with things he needs to get begins to hit him like a tidal wave.

“That’s fine Harry these were just on sale so I grabbed them. You have plenty of time to-”

“What if they come early and I don’t have anything still? Or what if they hate the cribs I pick and never want to sleep in them or-” A soft hand landing on top of his that’s gripping the crib makes him stop his rambling. He blinks a few times as he tries to calm his breathing down before he looks over at you and sees you giving him a small yet comforting smile.

“They’ll like whatever you pick Harry because you’re their dad and they’ll know you picked it just for them. Now I’m sure there’s going to be days and nights they don’t want to sleep but it won’t have anything to do with the cribs you get them.” You do your best to reassure him and ease him away from the edge of the small anxiety attack you know he is mere moments away from having.

“Would you uhm maybe want to help pick some things out for them?” He knows he could ask his mom or sister to help him but honestly for some reason he feels like picking the furniture for his nursery would be a good experience for the two of you to have.

“Sure oh actually your mom invited me shopping tomorrow she wants me to help her pick some crib sheets so would you want to just join us for that and we can look at cribs and stuff as well?” You feel a tinge of nervousness as you tell him about the plans you made with his mom, not sure if he is aware that she reaches out to you to see how you’re doing and even comes over for the occasional cup of tea.

“She told me about the two of you having plans tomorrow.” You let out a sigh of relief as you move your hand off of his and place it back on your bump. “Are you sure you would be okay with me joining you? I don’t want to get in the way.”

“She’s your mom Harry so of course I don’t mind you joining us.” Harry watches you closely as you speak so see if he can find any hints that you’re lying just to save yourself from hurting his feelings. But when you just stare at him for a few moments before taking another sip of your water he knows you’re being honest, you really don’t care if he comes with the two of you tomorrow and oddly enough he doesn’t know how to feel about the fact he’s going to be shopping for his twins with their mother and his mother.

“Okay I’ll uhm call her later to set up the details.” You just nod as you turn and head for the door while Harry still stands with a hand on the crib closest to it. “I’ll uhm go-go get started on your juice.” He fumbles over his words as he finally releases his grip on the wooden frame of the crib and turns around so he can see you standing in the doorway with your back towards him.

“Okay but don’t try to sneak any carrots into it this time or I’ll probably start crying.” You warn as you take a step into the hallway.

“Carrots are good for-”

“I don’t care what they are good for Harry they ruin the juice and make it a disgusting color.”

“The juice is already a gross color? It’s green.”

“Says the man with big dumb green eyes and green shorts on?” To that Harry decides to ignore your comments about his eyes and takes a moment to look down at his outfit, having forgotten he came here from the gym so he is in fact wearing green athletic shorts and a gray tank top with his neon colored running shoes.

“Just go lay down and I’ll bring you your carrot free juice okay?” You give him a smug smile as he stands at the end of your hallway near the living room with a hand on his hip while you stand in your bedroom doorway with your water bottle in one hand and the other also on your hip.

“Okay.” Harry rolls his eyes at how happy you sound all because he agreed to not add any carrots to your juice, he watches as you turn and enter your bedroom and waits a few moments till he hears the sound of your water bottle being placed on your nightstand before he turns to go to the kitchen.

“Oh and Paris is in the living room!” You shout as you fold your covers back so you can climb into bed, wanting to give Harry a heads up on the orange cat’s whereabouts since he still doesn’t seem to like Harry therefor thinking it’s okay to still use his ankles as little chew toys.

As if on queue Harry hears the all too familiar sound of a bell jingling from behind him just as he begins to cut up the mango that he decide would be a good substitute for the pineapple in your juice. He freezes the moment he feels the soft hair and slightly pointy whiskers rub against the back of his calf, Paris’s go too move before he sinks his teeth into the flesh right above Harry’s ankle bone. Harry takes a deep breath in preparation for the pain he knows he’s about to endure and sure enough maybe two seconds later he feels Paris bite down on his ankle as he starts to purr while Harry releases his breath and lets out a groan.

“Fuck sake Paris how long are we gonna be doing this mate? I’ve been here how many times now and you still don’t like me? I’m making your mom homemade green juice for Christ sake what else do you want from me?” Harry rambles on as he looks down at the orange cat who is just sitting there staring at him all innocently as if he didn’t just make a meal out of his poor ankle.

“One day you’re going to like me. I just know it.” Paris tilts his head to the side and looks up at Harry for a brief moment before he decides he’s done in the kitchen and walks off leaving Harry standing there with a half cut up mango in one hand and a knife in the other.

Harry isn’t sure if he’s dreaming or not, because surely there’s no way you actually said what he just heard come out of your mouth.

“I’m serious.” Your simple statement answers his question as you cross your arms over your chest and stare at him with a very stern look in your eyes that he’s never seen before, granted he hasn’t been around you for very long but still he’s never seen you look so serious.

“It’s a rocking chair how can it be haunted?” He wonders as he looks at the wooden chair in question that’s currently sitting in between the two of you.

The two of you are in the middle of a antique shop looking for some things to go on the wall in your nursery and also to see if they have any baby furniture that could potentially go in the nursery at Harry’s house. While it upset you a bit it’s no surprise to Harry that his mom suddenly “wasn’t feeling well” as soon as she found out you had invited Harry to tag along on today’s shopping trip, he knows very well she’s fine at home on her couch watching her shows and researching things for her garden. And while normally Harry would be annoyed at her subtle ways of trying to interfere in his personal life he’s thankful his mom isn’t here to witness him look absolutely lost on why the mother of his children thinks used rocking chairs can be haunted and refuses to buy one.

“Not haunted but it could hold bad energy from the last person who used it.” You explain for the second time as you scrunch your nose up while looking at the chair. “What if the last person who sat in that chair was a weirdo? Or was a serial killer?” Harry rolls his eyes at your ridiculous reasoning for why the chair could have bad energy.

“Oh come on what are the odds Ted Bundy used to rock his kids to sleep in this rocking chair.” Harry playfully argues as he points to the chair while you drop your hands from your chest so you can reach over and smack Harry’s arm with an annoyed huff making him glare at you.

“Why would you say that? Now we really aren’t getting it you asshole.” You snap as you give his arm one more smack before turning around and heading further down the aisle of old vintage looking furniture. Harry lets out a sigh as he runs a hand over his face because it’s only been half an hour since the two of you started this shopping trip and at this rate he’s not sure if the two of you will still be on the decently good terms you’ve been on the past few weeks by the time it’s over.

“Are you really mad? I know you’re more emotional than normal right now but it’s just a rocking chair and it doesn’t have to go in your house it can go in mine.” He tries to reason with you as he follows behind you down the aisle, he hears you let out a scoff at he mention of you being emotional and he instantly knows that wasn’t the correct thing to say.

“It’s not just a rocking chair Harry.” You quickly turn around to face him making him take a step back so he’s out of reach making you unable to smack him just incase you get the itch to do so again. “It’s where you put your babies to sleep while singing a lullaby and where you soothe them when they are upset and-and where you sit and read to them before bed and I just don’t want one that someone has already had all those special moments in. Even if it’s not going in my house I know my babies will still be sitting in it with you and I just-”

“Okay okay we can get you a brand new chair that no one has ever sat in just-just stop crying.” Harry’s words are rushed as he takes a small step towards you so he can place his hands on your shoulders, you didn’t even realize you were crying until you finally feel a few tears roll down your cheeks. You sniffle a few times as Harry bends his knees so he can be eye level with you. “I promise you will get whatever rocking chair you want. Just please stop crying.” He’s practically begging you at this point and giving your shoulders some gentle squeezes as you wipe your eyes with the sleeve of your cardigan

“Oh sorry am I embarrassing you?” Your voice is a mixture of harsh and watery making Harry let out a sigh as he stands up and drops his hands from your shoulders. “Because news flash Harry pregnant people cry a lot okay?” He doesn’t want to start a fight with you so he just stands there and lets you take your frustration out on him because it was his poor choice of words that caused this reaction from you in the first place. “It’s not like I can control it either. I just cry all the time over the stupidest stuff.”

“I just don’t like seeing you cry.” You almost don’t hear his admission as he looks down at his feet while rubbing at the back of his neck. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to make you upset I didn’t know you uhm had such strong feelings about rocking chairs that’s all.” He explains as he looks up at you making you let out a huff as your arms fall to your sides.

“It’s okay.” You tell him as you adjust the strap to your purse, Harry watches as you make a face of slight discomfort and he can’t even stop himself before he’s reaching over and grabbing the strap, he raises an eyebrow as his silent way of asking if this is okay and when you just let the strap of your bag fall into his hands he smiles as he takes your giant purse and puts the strap over his shoulder.

“I read somewhere that most people hyper fixate on one thing during their pregnancies and I just think mine has been the nursery. Mainly the furniture in it. So that’s why I uh had my-my little moment about the rocking chair.” You tell him as a way to help him get a better understanding on what’s going on in your mind, since you know having a breakdown in the middle of a store isn’t ideal especially for him. Mainly because anyone within a few feet of the two of you would be able to tell instantly who he is thanks to the short sleeves of his worn out Rolling Stones shirt letting his more recognizable tattoos be on display.

“Gemma’s was the car seat. She read every single safety review on hundreds of car seats and I swear she still doesn’t even like the one she uses everyday.” You smile as Harry talks about his sister, doing his best to help make you feel like he really does get it and that you being very particular about what you want in the twins nursery is totally normal.

“Oh speaking of Gemma I was thinking of Nora if one of them is a girl.” Harry feels as if his feet all of a sudden don’t know how to work as you turn around to begin heading down the aisle, tossing out a baby name as if it’s just a suggestion on what the two of you should eat for dinner and not a possible name for one of your children. “And I like Anne as a middle name and I know it’s her middle name and obviously it’s your mother’s name so I thought it would be cute?” You add having no clue Harry is still frozen in place a few paces behind you.

“Uhm-uh you’ve been thinking of-of names already?” He asks as he quickly rushes to catch up to you before you turn to head down another aisle that has framed art.

“Yeah? I’ve been thinking of names since I found out I was pregnant but I’ve just now narrowed the girl name down to that one.”

“And it’s Nora?”

“Yes I like Nora.”

“Nora is nice. I think I like it.”

“I’m glad.”

“So Nora as in Jones?”

“Uh more like Roberts.”

“And who’s that?” You stop mid step and turn to face Harry who has a very curious expression on his face as he flips through a bin of floral themed art.

“Nora Roberts is an author.” You answer making Harry just nod as a small smirk forms on his face.

“Should’ve known.” You roll your eyes as he looks over at you. “Of course you want to name our daughter after an author while I want to name her after a musician.”

“Well at least both Noras are talented.”

“You’re missing the most important part of this whole thing.”

“And that would be?”

“We just agreed on something.” The grin he gives you leaves you no choice but to smile back. “Nora Anne Styles? Or did you want them to have your last name? I’m fine with hyphenating it if you-”

“Styles is fine.” Harry feels hit with an odd swirl of emotions at your answer, knowing that you want the twins to have his last name makes him have a sense of pride but also makes him feel slightly nervous that one day they might hate having the same name as him. “I haven’t thought about boy names yet.” You tell him before you turn to look at a bin that has framed posters.

“Uhm how do you feel about Edward?”

“Edgar? Like Allen Poe?”

“Uh no I uhm said Edward not Edgar.”

“Oh sorry. Edward-Edward what?”

“James?”

“Edward James Styles.” You whisper it at first making Harry nervously rub his lips together as he listens to you repeat the name a few more times before nodding. “Okay yeah I like it.” You say with a smile as you place both hands on your bump before you turn to face him.

“Wow we are two for two.”

“Better stop before we break our streak or you even worst you make me cry.” Harry rolls his eyes as you take a step towards him while holding a hand out. He doesn’t know what you want his hand for but he turns so he’s facing you and gives it to you anyway with a quirked brow. “Can you feel that?” You ask as you place his hand on the side of your bump, he’s about to shake his head no when all of a sudden he feels like tiniest something press against his palm.

“Is-is that one of them?” You just nod as Harry stares down at his hand that’s pressed firmly against your bump. You watch his eyes go from wide and shocked to soft and glossed over so you place a hand over his and give it a small pat just as he lets out his first sniffle.

“Figured it was your turn to cry in public.” You joke as he blinks a few times trying to stop the tears from actually falling and rolling down his face.

“Thanks.” He says with a wet chuckle as you move his hand to the other side of your bump so he can feel another tiny little movement.

“I think they are stretching or something.” You explain as Harry just stares at his hand with a look of pure amazement. “They’ve been extra active today though.”

“I bet it’s because of the carrots I snuck in your juice this morning.”

The laugh you let out has Harry imagining for a moment this is what it would be like if the two of you weren’t just a few levels above being complete strangers who are having kids together and instead you were just two people happily shopping for nursery decor for their twins. It’s moments like this that he desperately wishes he could remember more about the night he met you because it’s glimpses of you like this, laughing at a stupid joke he said that have him feeling like you are so easy to be around and he’s sure that’s how he felt about you that night as well. But the harsh reality that Harry is very aware of is moments like this are rare for the two of you, he’s already made you cry today so he just tries to live in this moment that has him feeling a comforting sense of happiness as long as he can because sooner or later he knows it’s going to come to an end.

You let out a groan as you stretch your legs on your couch letting your sock covered feet land in Ethan’s lap which makes him just roll his eyes when he looks down and sees you wiggling your toes at him. He turns to look at you and lets out a laugh when you poke your bottom lip out and continue to wiggle your toes, a combination you know he can’t resist. Ethan lets out a huff as he places his phone down on the table next to the couch so he can use both hands to gently rub your slightly swollen ankles.

“You’re so lucky I love you because I usually never touch feet for free.” He states making you laugh as you get comfortable and go back to reading one of the pregnancy books Anne gave you the last time she came over. “Oh so how was the shopping trip the other day? Didn’t see you two on the news and you never called me to bail you out of jail so that must mean it went well?” He asks with a teasing tone that makes you roll your eyes as you flip a page in your book.

“It did go well actually I got a few new books for the twin’s bookshelf.” You begin as you lower your book a bit so you can see Ethan’s face over the top of it. “We picked baby names and-”

“Excuse me?” His eyes are wide and his hands momentarily stop rubbing your ankles as he snaps his head in your direction. “You did what now?”

“We sort of agreed on two baby names. I told him the one I’ve been thinking about for a girl-”

“Nora Anne?”

“Yes and he liked it but he thought it was because of Nora Jones.”

“Well yeah you can’t expect Mr. Asshole to know who Nora Roberts is.” You glare at Ethan for a moment making him just shrug because he doesn’t get what he did wrong so you just continue on explaining the baby names.

“But then he had an idea for a boy name and it’s uhm well it’s Edward James St-”

“James? As in Ethan James your super attractive young neighbor?” He all but shouts as he stares at you with an excited grin on his face and you just nod and laugh because you knew he would react this way to finding out the middle name Harry picked unknowingly wanting to give his son just so happens to belong to the very man he can’t stand.

“Exactly.”

“Weird way to ask me to be their godfather but I accept.” He says with a shrug as he goes back to focusing on rubbing your ankles.

“Don’t get crazy Ethan no one has asked you to be anyone’s godfather.” You explain with a laugh making him let out a dramatic sigh.

“Here I am rubbing your feet and ankles and you don’t even think I’m godfather material? That’s just rude.” You playfully glare at him when he turns his head to look at you with a smile. “But really I’m glad it’s going well with him I know you’ve been through some shit with that asshole so I’m happy that he seems to be making an effort to do things that are actually nice and helpful.” You just nod as you try to focus on the page you’re reading in your book.

“Yeah it’s been-”

“I saw photos of him out with another girl last night.” You drop your book to your lap as Ethan lets out a sigh of relief, feeling ten times lighter now that he’s spilled the beans about something he wasn’t sure he was going to tell you about or not but he figures you deserve to know the whereabouts of the father of your children.

“What are you talking about?”

“I saw photos of Harry out with some chick in a god awful tacky green silk dress with yellow-”

“Ethan.”

“Right sorry.” He runs a hand through his hair as he turns his body a bit so he is facing you, but makes sure your feet are still comfortably resting in his lap. “He was out at some club with her and they left hand in hand and got into his car and the only reason I known it was his car is because I recognized the driver.”

“Is that all?” Ethan raises an eyebrow at your question because you’re handling this rather differently than he expected.

“Uh yeah-yeah that’s all.”

“That’s okay.” You say with a slow nod before you grab your book. “He’s single he can be seen with whoever he wants.” You explain as you turn to the page you were just on, ignoring the look of confusion on Ethan’s face and the way your heart feels like it just dropped to the pit of your stomach.

“It’s okay if it’s not okay you know that right? He’s the father of your babies and it’s perfectly normal to feel attached to him in a way that no one will ever understand.” You can’t look at Ethan as he speaks or you’ll lose it so he just gives your feet a little squeeze before he reaches over and grabs the book out of your hands. “Look at me.” He says as he tosses your book onto your coffee table, you slowly look from your hands that are resting on your bump over to his face and then finally you meet his stare.

“He told me he had plans with his mom last night. That’s why he couldn’t come over to help put up the curtains I got for the nursery but he said he’d do it the next time he’s here to make my juice.” Ethan lets out a sigh as he watches your eyes get glossy as you let him in on a piece of information that you weren’t going to share with him because it seemed unimportant until now.

“God this wouldn’t be happening if you would’ve went with Zayn for your baby daddy.” His voice is serious but you know he’s joking as he reaches for one of your hands.

“Zayn wasn’t an option.” You explain with a sniffle as you try to stop the tears from falling with a few blinks.

“That’s a shame because that man is-”

“Was she pretty?” You mumble as you look away from Ethan and down at his hand that’s got a firm hold of yours as it rests on your bump. You don’t know why you asked because you know it doesn’t matter but you can’t help but be curious.

“Fuck no. She was hideous.” He watches the corners of your mouth twitch as you fight off a smile. “You’re the hottest woman that man has ever been with. Hands down.”

“You’re just saying that so I won’t cry.”

“No I’m not.” He argues as he gives your hand a squeeze. “I’m saying it so you’ll make me the godfather.” He smiles at the sound of your laughter even if it’s a littler watery sounding it’s better than the sound of you bawling your eyes out, that’s one sound he is sick of hearing from you. “I love you. You’re going to be okay.” You let out a sigh as you give his hand a squeeze making him smile.

“Thank you. I love you too.” With that Ethan lets go of your hand so he can lean over and grab your book off the coffee table and hand it back to you. The two of you silently deciding that you’ve had your fill of gossip for the evening so he picks up his phone with one hand and scrolls his social media pages while his other lazily rubs at your ankles. While you try to focus on the words on the page of your book you can’t help but let your mind wonder to the reasons why Harry would lie to you and if you should even bring it up to him. But as you get comfortable on the couch and Ethan lets out a soft sigh you decide that you’ll just deal with Harry later and enjoy your time with one of your bestfriends, refusing to let the man with the big dumb green eyes ruin anymore of your evening.

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trustmypoison · 3 days ago

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Ateez finding out that you're pregnant

Requested? Yes!

Request: Hi! <3 I loved your ATEEZ reaction with a low maintenance partner! I was wondering if I could make a request? Either: How each member prefers to sleep with you at night/whether they like to be held or do the holding/etc. I did see the sleeping positions one but I figured this one was different enough. If not that's totally fine!! Otherwise, maybe a pregnancy one, I saw the ones planned for svt and I'd love to see ateez. tysm!! <3’

TW/CW: pregnancy and baby talk. Skip if you aren’t into that.

Hongjoong

The picture of totally put together. There will be only a split second of shock before he’s holding you tight and telling you how happy he is about the news. If you were nervous about the news (which I think most people are at least a little), he’s putting your mind at ease immediately. No, it’s not too soon. No, he’s not worried about the group or the company. Yes, he can’t wait to start a family.

Seonghwa

Stunned silence. You actually think you might have broken him. Once he starts talking, it’s one half-finished question only to be interrupted by another half-finished question, but you get the picture so you explain that you realized you were late and took a test. If the shock goes on so long that you feel like this whole thing is going down the drain, he’ll snap out of it to assure you he’s thrilled, he might just need some time to wrap his head around it.

Yunho

He had a sneaking suspicion when you got a ‘stomach bug’. He doesn’t say anything right away and you’d be too busy being sick to care. So he simply takes you to the doctor. He’s totally silent when you stammer that you don’t need to take a test and the doctor assures you it’s just to eliminate potential causes. When the doctor announces your results, he’s already braced for the shock and handles it far more gracefully than you do. Please, he’d be such a steady partner, change my mind.

Yeosang

When you tell him, he just smiles and nods. You ask if he has anything to say and he smiles and says no. This sort of questioning goes on until you really aren’t convinced he even heard you. You don’t feel good and this is a tough topic if only because it’s a surprise, and the whole thing makes you impatient. “Are you even listening? I said I’m pregnant!” The frustration will double when he just smiles and says, “I know. At least I suspected.” He pulls you in for a hug as you rage, “Then why didn’t you tell me??? I didn’t know!!!” Irritatingly calm in the face of such news.

San

The gentlest of guys and you can’t convince me otherwise. After like the third bout of illness in one morning, he puts you back to bed and very carefully brings up the possibility. He hates the panic that flashes across your face at the mere mention of it and he decides now is a great time to tell you that he’d love it if you were expecting. It puts your mind at ease and the conversation is a slow buildup to you finally asking him to get the tests. Super sweet and supportive even before the tests are purchased.

Mingi

Panic. I could leave it at that but I guess I won’t. He does not know what to do with this information and might not handle it gracefully. He hates that he can see how nervous and upset you are but I envision he’d need to step away. Imagine him going to an older member in crisis mode. Also, imagine Hongjoong blowing up because he just left you like that without any comfort. After some careful coaching, his older members will demand he go and make things right. When he calms down and thinks of the future, he likes it, but a big change like that is scary.

Wooyoung

He just shows up with a couple of tests and demands that you take it. It’s so perplexing that you’re kind of waiting for the punchline (because he always has one). But he really doesn’t have one now and he’s very serious. Now, that doesn’t mean he’s not a smart ass!! He’ll say something like, “You’ve been biting my head off for weeks, you keep gagging at the food I make, and you missed your period last month. Take it so I know how offended to be.” He’s joking on that last bit because of how pale you get at the implication. He’s thrilled about the news, but he’s equally thrilled to know that you don’t just hate him!!

Jongho

Overjoyed. Like there’s not even a moment of shock. The way he holds you close and tells you how happy he is in an instant really smashes any doubts you might have had. Totally doting immediately. I’m serious, do not move, do not pick anything up, do not try to do anything for yourself. I think normally he would not baby his partner quite so much, but he’d do a complete 180 with this news. Prepare to be coddled for at least 9 months, or maybe forever, idk.

#ateez #atz #ateez x reader #atz x reader #ateez reactions #atz reactions #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #tw: pregnancy #tw pregnancy

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envy-of-the-apple · 23 hours ago

Note

I've been reading all your jjk works and notice most of them having older mc. You wrote gojo with an older woman a lot, how about doing geto with middle age jujutsu teacher

Mc is not strong and barely considered a jujutsu sorcerer with her ct that basically numbs her or others senses like a potent anesthetic, its not really useful in a fight but the best thing for geto. With her ct she can numb his taste buds completely and he never has to taste the disgusting curse ball ever again. And plus mc is actually a really nice and caring teacher. The kind of teacher that uses different study methods to suit different students. The kind of teacher that immediately pick up when students are feeling down. But when geto expresses how much he is fond of her not just as her student she takes it as puppy love that he will soon get over it when he gets older and she only saw him as her student. She said something like "maybe when you graduate we can have this talk again" and geto took it to heart only for his beloved teacher getting purpose from other people(non-sorcer that you happened to help one time). Oh... How sad he is... He thought you would wait for him. And you would finally become part of his family with nanako and mimiko after all you help him raise both of them why are you leaving for some Monkey

I like this idea! But what about making the Mc a nurse instead???

(TW: Blood, implied murder, yandere)

You aren’t even a trained jujutsu sorcerer. You were scouted pretty late, far past high school. Because of that, you don’t have much potential, not that you were upset or anything. You’re still a high school nurse, but instead of treating students with the occasional flu, you treat teenagers who fight demons.

It’s pretty haunting to see, especially as an outsider of jujutsu. But you can’t do anything. You might be semi-important to the school, but you’re still just another rung on the ladder. So you keep your head down, as you always do.

It’s only natural you develop favorites. It’s a second year. Shoko Ieiri. She’s set to be your predecessor, having a much more powerful CT than you do. You don’t mind being in her shadow. The short time you spent in the jujutsu world was hard enough. At least now you know you wont be leaving behind a hole.

Geto is close behind. He’s a quiet boy, well-mannered, well-spoken. Far better than his white haired brat of a companion. It isn’t often he comes for injuries, but when accidents do happen, you’re sure to lecture him while tending to his injuries.

Maybe one day you get curious enough to ask what curses taste like. Maybe that day, he finally decides to be honest.

On tinier areas, like the tongue, your CT can last for hours. You try it out just once when he’s called to dispatch a first grade. He comes back that day with eyes brighter than anything you’ve ever seen.

It continues like that. When he’s called for an exorcism, he finds you. It’s like a goodbye ritual. You and him sit on the exam table, his mouth open wide as you diligently apply your curse technique, careful not to miss a single corner. He often tells you that you saved his life. You didn’t know he meant that so sincerely.

He confesses to you a year after Riko’s death.

Hes like a kid. He is a kid, staring down at you with hopeful eyes, not even a day over 18. You know what you should do. Rip the band-aide off, nice and clean. He deserves that.

But...you just cant break his heart like that, so you lie.

You tell him when he's older. You tell him after graduation. You tell him to wait. He readily does. You hope in a couple years hed be too embarrassed to ask you again. His adult brain would kick in and nag at him. His friends might too. Maybe when he comes back as a fully-fledged sorcerer, you two could laugh about this.

Your last straw is Haibara.

You quit the school. you walk away from jujutsu sorcery. It's hard, because its been your life for years, but leaving hurts less than staying.

You don't tell geto. You just leave. Abandon him.

You go back to your old job. A normal high school, treating normal high school students. Years pass like that. You move on with your normal life.

And then you meet a normal man. Quiet, well-mannered, the ever slightest gray in his hair. He's perfect. When he gives you the ring, it was the happiest you'd ever been.

Geto finds you two years after your marriage.

It's almost surreal meeting him again, seeing him in your quiet apartment. There's so much blood. His fingers are dripping in it.

He smiles. "So, had time to think it over?"

You were half right. One day, Geto did come back as a full-fledged sorcerer.

But neither of you laughed about it.

#asks #yandere #yandere jjk #dark jjk #dark content #x reader #yandere x reader #dark geto suguru x reader #dark geto suguru #yandere geto suguru x reader #yandere geto suguru #tw: blood

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cattjull · 2 days ago

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Sugary sweet

summary: You were supposed to go to a party tonight. Abby receives you at her home, though, crying about not having permission from your parents to go.

a/n: I'm so sorry for not posting but honestly I'm really really depressed since a few months ago and I cannot bring myself to do anything good or productive enough. I don't even think this passes my quality check but at this point and due to my inconsistency nobody will even remember I wrote fics once soo... Please enjoy or something :)

cw: implied age gap but not specified!

Abby laid down on her side, wet hair clinging to her skin and cascading down her neck and sprawling on her pillow, small droplets falling from her loose, golden hair onto the bedsheets and her pajamas like molten gold looking for a form in which to solidify.

It was 12 p.m. in a normal Friday night, which normally meant she could stay up to whenever she felt like it, go to bed anytime and mindlessly scroll down on her phone or read a book until she decided to turn all of her lights off, text you her usual good night message and drift off to sleep, her pillow being an one-way ticket to the land of dreams which you had took over and claimed as yours ever since you guys started dating.

But this was one of those nights. Those where you'd go out to some party and she'd be going to bed late without inviting anyone over or going out, where she wouldn't pay attention to her phone or get distracted with other simple activities because of her excessive worries, often finding herself fidgeting with her rings, adjusting her glasses, or eating fruits just because of her anxiety.

She loved you a lot, too much even but sometimes she didn't have enough stamina to be your company in parties, even if she really tried to attend with you almost always. She really didn't enjoy that lifestyle, mundane parties with shitty music and potentially dangerous people, but oh guess who does! Her girlfriend.

She feels lucky to have you, truly. It's not like she was planning on sleeping until you texted her you got home safe, but her mind started divagating somewhere far away from the book she held between her big hands and she just knew that, once again, she'd spent worrying over you at least until 4 a.m., maybe even after you texted her you were safe in your house. So she took off her glasses and placed the book down on her nightstand, signing loudly and preparing herself for another sleepless night.

You may be having fun in your friend's party, where you obviously invited her but she refused, knowing you'd most likely end up alternating your time between gossiping with your friends and clinging onto her while the others ignored her, which made her feel unwanted by them.

Maybe there was someone flirting with you and you were too drunk to tell them to stop. Maybe you were flirting with someone and tomorrow you'd call her like nothing talking to her about how much you hate hangovers. Maybe you were crying because someone was mean to you. Maybe you were doing something stupid. How could she know?

Her anxious thoughts were interrupted by the small sound coming from her window. It sounded like a small rock: there it was, your signature way of getting into her house. She didn't know why but everything about your behaviour was so sweet and dumb, just as any teenager but make it cute romantic comedy like. Everything you did was a small reminder of the small age gap between you two, which made her feel guilty every time.

She got closer to the window and saw you standing there with your eyes looking slightly red and swollen, as if you had been smoking weed, with your mini bag being clutched to your waist with one hand while the other waved at her. She quickly rushed downstairs, not even bothering to put her slippers on, and unlocked the door for you.

Luckily, her dad was out in the hospital so he wouldn't wake up by the sound of her feet pattering on the wooden floor or the tinkering of the keys or... Anything else you'd be doing.

When the blue eyed girl opened the door, she took in your appearance, noticing you had the same clothes that you had worn a few hours ago when you sent her nudes and a really thoughtful video. You told her that would be your outfit for the party, so why were you in her house if this hour wasn't even close to the one you usually would be going home?

Her orbs shamelessly fixed on you, and how couldn't they when taking you in felt so natural? After what felt like an eternity, Abby started functioning again and regained her speech. "Babe... What happened with the party?" She questioned.

"My parents didn't want me to go. So I escaped. Sorry for not telling you but they took my phone away." You explained, in that moment you felt so angry you were crying, something you were deeply ashamed of to be honest. Your voice was completely sweet towards her when you didn't talk about your parents, though. Abby cupped your face with her warm, big hands, noticing you hadn't been smoking anything. Your pretty eyes were spilling diamond tears.

"You'll stay with me tonight, honey." She reassured you. "I'm not driving you to that party, yeah?" You immediately smiled and hugged her, burying the side of your face in her god-sculptured chest and nuzzling your cheek against her. "I'll do as you say." You obeyed lovingly.

"I bet you prefer me over those parties, sweetheart." She replied with a soft smile.

"Of course I do. You're the best Abby, I love you so much and I'd choose you over anything, okay?" You reassured her, causing her to giggle at your directness. That kind of words often came out of your mouth by themselves, as always you praised her. As if you just quoted every love song you heard.

"Didn't you bring anything by the way?" She asked as she hugged you back, embracing you with her buff, juicy arms and picking you up.

"I brought my toothbrush, makeup and fifty dollars." You said, prideful of your improvised packing skills as she held you up to her body with one arm, using the other hand to close and lock the door.

"Pretty good." She nodded with approval, heading upstairs.

Last time you escaped home for something like this, you had brought your phone charger (your phone was taken), a bar of chocolate, your earphones (again, your phone was taken) and no money.

"I know." You smiled and placed a kiss in her clavicle. In Abby's room, she sat down as you straddled her, shifting so you were using her chest as a pillow as she laid on actual ones, staring down at you.

"You aren't really... Crying anymore." She commented, caressing your cheekbone as she observed the change in your mood.

"No. I stopped crying when you picked me up. Guess I was happy to see you." You confessed, kissing her cheek.

"Is that so?" She questioned with affection, caressing your hair.

"You know you heal my heart, Abby." You whispered before kissing her. It was velvety, wet, and sweet. Abby's lips were the cake to your sickly sweet frosting, joining together on a wet and tender kiss, intertwining your souls and tying them up together with an invisible string without even knowing it. That's just how you were.

#𝜗𝜚 𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘫𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘴 #abby anderson #abby tlou #abby x reader #abby anderson x reader #abby x you #abby the last of us #tlou abby #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby fluff #nerdy!abby #nerd!abby

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milkteabies · 2 days ago

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Haikyuu characters when (y/n) passes out bc of her period

characters: Tsukishima and Iwaizumi

(I meant to do more characters but I accidentally wrote too much just for these two)

a/n: this is purely self indulgent bc my period makes me pass out sometimes lol, so this is a female reader and ofc talks of periods and blood and passing out, so if that isn’t your thing or makes you uncomfortable, find something that’s more for you dear :D

also characters are probs ooc bc this is the first time I’ve written for them lol, so sorry in advance!!

—————

Tsukishima:

You had already started your period a few days ago, and just before it ends is when it’s the worst. The bleeding gets so heavy and no matter what, you feel very faint, but you couldn’t exactly skip school because you had an exam that you needed to do that you know the teacher wouldn’t allow to be retaken or rescheduled, so you hunkered down and trudged on.

Walking to school alone was uncomfortable, your cramps twisting in your stomach like a cheese grater to your organs. You were so distracted by the pain you didn’t even realize the footsteps coming up behind you.

“Can’t believe you’d leave me behind like that.” Tsukishima scoffs, his long strides easily falling into step next to your slightly stilted ones.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Tsukishima, I was distracted thinking about my exam today.” You smile up at him kindly, heart stuttering slightly, arms crossed over your stomach to try and alleviate the pain.

“Yeah, you told me about that last night… What are you doing with your arms?”

You look down at where they cross and shrug with a tired smile, “I’m just feeling a little cold today I think. Anyway, I’ll see you after your practice, yeah?” You wave as you walk off, joining Yachi and a few other friends to walk to class together, unaware of the secretly worried look following after you.

You’re in class, taking notes just before lunch when an incredibly strong pang hits you, squeezing the breath from your lungs. Quietly, you wheeze to try and distract yourself, and Yachi, who sits next to you, gently presses a hand to your arm in worry.

“Hey, you okay? Whats going on?” She whispers, glancing to the teacher to make sure they don’t notice.

“Yeah, I’m good. Just cramps.” You whisper back shakily, wrapping an arm snugly around your stomach.

Yachi gives you a sympathetic look, well aware of your struggles. “I have some extra strength advil in my bag, I’ll give you some at lunch.”

You mouth a thank you and quickly go back to taking notes when the teacher turns around.

As lunch starts, your friends amble around your desk to eat together, and Yachi quickly roots around for the medication and hands it to you, which you take immediately.

To try and avoid an extra stomach ache, you eat the light snack you packed with you, not having a lunch since you knew you would be too nauseous to keep anything down.

A minute later, the door to the classroom slides open and a familiar tall, bespectacled blond leans in. Your friend nudges you, and gestures with her head to the door when you look up.

You wave as you walk over to the door, “Hey Tsukishima, whats up?” You ask, standing in front of him.

“Just came to see if you were skipping lunch to do some last minute cramming for your exam.” He snarks, easily hiding the fact that he was worried and also wanted to maybe eat lunch with you to potentially help you study. Allegedly.

You laugh at his statement, knowing what he wants but continuing the bit, “I haven’t eaten in three days preparing, you think I’ll break my streak now?”

Tsukishima’s lips quirk before he hears a call of his name down the hall from Yamaguchi. “Ah, I have to go… Here. Make sure to actually eat something to power that pea brain of yours.” He huffs, pressing a strawberry cream bun to your hand before quickly walking off, his ears burning red.

You giggle after him, heart fluttering, before walking back to your desk where your friends all “oooh” and “aawww” at you which you wave off, slightly flustered.

Finally, at your last class of the day where your exam was set to take place, you knew it was gonna be tough. The medicine your friend gave you worked for a while into the exam, but by the end, it had worn off completely and you were not feeling good. You managed to finish the exam with a few minutes to spare, along with Yachi, because you shared the class, who you turned your exam in with, before packing up to leave.

Gathering your stuff, you felt almost all of your blood rush from your head as you stood up with your bag, and stumbled slightly. Yachi caught your arm and looked on in concern, but you smiled and waved it off to walk outside of the classroom. You barely made it a few feet out the door before your vision started to cloud.

Your heart was pounding and blackness bloomed across your eyes. You stumbled again, hitting the wall with your shoulder as Yachi rushed to your side, “(Y/n)! Oh my god, are you okay?!” She whispered loudly, kneeling in front of you, hands shaking.

“I- I can’t see.” You mumbled before your consciousness evaded you, and you slumped forward into your her arms.

It felt like an instant that you were awake again, no longer in the hallway, but now the nurses office, lying on a bed. As soon as you were aware of your surroundings, you became aware of your body and the cramps that were still crushing your insides.

You groaned as you sat up, a cold wet cloth flopping into your lap before you yelped when a snarky voice suddenly spoke up from next to you, “You should keep lying down, you might pass out again.”

Looking to your side, you found Tsukishima sitting in a chair, staring right at you with furrowed brows.

“Tsukishima? What’re you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at practice- what time is it?” You questioned, looking around for your bag before another moment of lightheadedness hit you, making you press a hand to your forehead.

Tsukishima quickly stood up, pressing a hand against your shoulder, “Hey, listen to what I said! Lay back down!” He pushed, but you grabbed his wrist and pressed your forehead against his chest, breathing shakily.

“You idiot.” He mumbled, gently resting a hand on the back of your head.

You sighed before looking up at him, his hand still on your head. “Why’re you here?” You asked again.

“I was supposed to be at practice, but when Yachi called me, telling me you had passed out in the hallway, I couldn’t just not come. Who do you think brought you here? Yachi definitely isn’t strong enough to carry you.” He explains, brows furrowed again in worry.

“Ah, sorry about that.” You mumble, looking away from his eyes, but the hand previously on your head reaches for your chin and turns you back to him.

His eyes flicker around your face, as if searching before he finally demands, “What happened?”

You shrink a little into yourself, face flushing, but the hand on your chin holds firm as a second hand rests next to your thighs, trapping you in place. “…This’s never happened at school, it’s luckily only happened when I’ve been home, and normally my parents can take care of me, but my period makes me super light headed sometimes and I can pass out.” You murmur against squished cheeks.

Tsukishima’s face drops at the admission, “… So this happens regularly?”

“Well, kind of like every other period, but there have been times when it’s happened more than once if I have a really bad week.” You trail off, shrinking under his growing anger.

“And you’ve never told me about this because..?”

“I wouldn’t want to bother you and, like I said, normally my parents take care of me-“

“But what about times where they couldn’t?”

“I just lay down on the floor and then wake up later?”

Tsukishima can actively feel his blood pressure rise as he sighs, releasing your chin to pinch at the bridge of his nose.

“I’m taking you home and staying with you until your parents get home.” He states, standing back to full height before picking up both of your bags and pulling out his phone, presumably to text his team that he won’t return to practice at all.

“Tsukishima, you really don’t have to-!”

“I will, because you clearly can’t take care of yourself.”

“It’s not like I can control it!”

“Which is exactly why I’m going to take care of you. You can’t control it, and I don’t want to have to worry about you until I see you again!”

You’re stunned at the admission, feeling your ears burn at the worried look on Tsukishima’s face before you try again. “Really, it’s no big deal! You shouldn’t have to deal with your friend who-“ but before you can finish, you’re silenced by a pair of lips that press against yours.

You whimper in surprise as Tsukishima pulls away, pressing his forehead against yours, cheeks red as he glares at you, “I care about you and want to take care of you because I love you, can’t you understand that?” He demandss.

“Love?!” You squeak, pulling away to turn and hide your burning face in your hands.

“Yes, love.” He huffs, prying one hand away from your face to wrap an arm around your waist and rest his forehead against your shoulder. “…When Yachi called me, I ran across the school to get to you.” He mumbles.

Your heart racing, you take your other hand away from your face and gently tangle it through Tsukishima’s hair, lightly scratching at his scalp, making him shiver. “Sorry for worrying you.”

“… Whatever, it was my choice to worry, anyway.” He huffs again, standing and angling his head away to try and stop you from seeing his red face, but failing as you laugh, the cloth in your lap slowly wetting your skirt.

Iwaizumi:

Your stomach had been hurting all day. No matter of medication was able to stop the pain and despite having dealt with it for so long, you never got used to it and it never got better.

You just wanted to go home and lay down for the rest of the day, but responsibilities and school work didn’t stop just because you were tired, and you still had to get through practice after school, being the manager of the boy’s volleyball club. You’d just have to steel yourself to power through until you could go home.

Sighing when the final school bell rang, you slowly packed up your stuff and tiredly shuffled your way to the gym, biting your lip with each painful ache that shot through your system.

As you neared the gym, you could see the large cluster of girls already flocking to the open door, none of them daring to cross the threshold as they watched the team warm up. “Excuse me, girls.” You called politely, smiling when they shuffled around to let you through, greeting you kindly.

As you made it to the front, a stack of letters were shoved into your hands before the swarm cleared out, making you giggle as they chorused goodbyes and lightly pushed at each other bashfully. You closed the door to the gym and were again greeted, this time by the actual team.

“(Y/n)-chan! Is one of these letters finally from you?” Oikawa cooes playfully, taking the letters you held out to him, obviously from the girls who were just here.

“You’ve gotta try a bit harder if you want to actually be able to win my love, Oikawa.” You answered blankly, setting down your bag and starting on your basic duties.

Oikawa failed to respond as a ball ricocheted off the back of his head, making him fall forward as Iwaizumi barked out from behind, “Get back to practice Trashykawa!”

“Iwa-chan, you’re so mean to me!” He cries, stumbling back to court as you shake your head fondly at their actions.

As they continue to warm up, you go to fill up the water bottles, keeling over the water station when an especially sharp pain hit. You quickly straightened up when you heard someone clear their throat behind you, but winced again, pressing a hand to your side.

“Woah, are you alright?” The voice you now recognized as Iwaizumi asked as he appeared at your side, a large, warm hand pressed against the small of your back, making your face flush despite yourself.

You wave off his concern with a strained laugh, “Ah, I’m fine! Don’t worry, just a little side cramp.” You smile up at him, making his face burn at how cute he found you.

“R-right, sorry.” He quickly backs away, hands raised stiffly when he realized he was touching you. “Do you, uh, need help with that?” He asks, pointing to the crate of bottles.

“No, it’s fine. Focus of practice, Iwaizumi, not on the manager tasks I do every day.” You simper, resting a hand against his bicep before scampering off to return the, now full, water bottles.

Iwaizumi feels his heart race at the contact before shaking himself out of his head, where he will definitely be replaying that moment, to go back to practice. “Where did you go, Iwa?” Matsukawa asks rhetorically, snickering with Hanamaki at Iwaizumi’s flustered face before running off when he threatens them with a ball.

As they continue through practice, you’re sitting on your bench on the side, half empty water bottles to your left, a bag of towels to your right, and writing on your clip board the practice scores and what specific players should practice on, on their individual sheets.

Every few seconds you can feel your eyebrow twitch in tandem with each cramp that hits. You slowly feel yourself start to sweat, the back of your shirt clinging to your skin uncomfortably and your hands going clammy. Fanning yourself with a free hand, you reach for your own water bottle.

The cool water helps, partly, but not enough. The heat in the gym is getting to you, the constant squeaking of sneakers and slamming of the ball, you can feel your chest get tighter, your vision blurring, head starting to spin. You quietly get up and speed walk to the door, fanning yourself with your clipboard as you go.

Making it outside, you take a few stumbling steps to lean against the wall of the gym, hearing muffled and ringing, but suddenly aware of someone coming up behind you with quick steps. “Hey, what happened?” Iwaizumi asks, holding onto your shoulder in worry, brows furrowed.

“Aw, you care about me, Iwaizumi?” You can’t help but tease, a feigned, coy smile on your lips which makes him flush and stutter in his steps and response.

“I-I’m just feeling a little hot.” You pant, continuing to fan yourself and attempting to take a step forward when your legs suddenly fail you and you stumble to your knees, dropping the clipboard, papers scattering.

“O-oi, (y/n)!” He calls, dropping down next to you and catching you with an arm across your clavicle when you suddenly slump forward, eyes shut.

You wake up with a start, finding yourself on a bench in the team room with a cool pack on your head. Reaching up, you grab the pack and slowly sit up, swinging your legs down to sit normally.

“You’re finally awake.” Iwaizumi’s relieved voice sounds from the door of the room, startling you into dropping the pack on the floor. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” He apologizes, quickly coming to your side with your water bottle in hand.

You take the bottle and drink a few gulps, accidentally spilling some drops from the corner of your mouth which slide down the side of your neck. Iwaizumi can’t help but watch them fall before shooting his eyes back to your face when you clear your throat.

“Did-uh, did you bring me here?” You ask awkwardly, wiping away the spilled water.

“Yeah, you collapsed in my arms, and the nurse’s office was closed, so I-uh, brought you back here instead. If you weren’t feeling good, you should have just gone home.” Iwaizumi reprimands gently, sitting on the bench sideways to face you, watching your shoulders slump in mild shame.

Nodding along, you laugh, “I probably should have, but I thought I’d be able to last. I didn’t want to leave you guys manager-less if I could just power through. This normally hap-”

“This is normal?” Iwaizumi cuts you off, leaning in to look at you with a shocked and worried expression.

You lean back, flushing at the sudden proximity. “W-well, kinda. My period can get pretty heavy, and it can make me all lightheaded, and sometimes I pass out. But it normally happens at home, not at school!” You stumble through your explanation, pressing a hand to Iwaizumi’s chest and turning to look any place other than his face.

“That’s not safe at all! What happens if you fall and hit your head?!” He demands, leaning closer, one hand grabbing your waist, the other pressing the hand on his chest closer so you could practically feel his heart racing.

“My-my parents help me, or I just lay down until I can get up!” You stammer, only making it worse.

Iwaizumi sighs into your shoulder, hugging you close to his chest between his legs. You sputter at the sudden contact, arms trapped between your chests, but freeze when you feel his hand squeeze your waist.

“You’re gonna make my heart give out. You make me so worried.” He mumbles into your shirt.

Your hands grip the front of his uniform tightly as your eyes squeeze shut in embarrassment at how hot your face feels. “Sorry.” You whisper into his hair.

“It’s not your fault, but… please, let me take you home so I know you won’t just pass out on the side of the road.” He practically begs, unconsciously circling his thumb on your hip comfortingly.

You giggle at his words, heart fluttering from his actions. “Ok, just so I can pass out in your arms instead.” You simper, quieting a giddy shriek when his hands squeeze your waist tighter as he chuckles into your neck.

—————

a/n: let me know if I should write for other characters, or if you have any fun ideas/requests!!

#tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima x you #haikyuu tsukishima #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x you #haikyuu iwaizumi #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu fanfiction #fanfiction #x reader #haikyuu imagines

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starberry-cupcake · 3 days ago

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So, I had some chapters ready to recap but I decided to wait because the last bunch didn't get around as they normally do notes-wise and I thought maybe you guys needed a breather from these, I know there's more important things to engage your time with right now, so I thought I'd stop for a bit because maybe I was just posting them too frequently, BUT if I don't keep them up, I can't keep reading, so I'm gonna move on and let it land where it lands ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ at this point, I have to go on even if I'm talking to the void. So, it is what it is.

previously, in nona del 9:

this happened

this is the general tag

CHAPTER 10 (shattered second house skull...yikes)

nona finally tells camilla about the surveillance situation at school

she wants to go back in the evening to help out sriracha girlie with it

camilla, because she's smart, cautious and all around perfect, tells her no

especially not after the whole shooting mess that happened that very afternoon

nona says she feels responsible for the kids and that perhaps the two other people she maybe is would also feel responsible for them

camilla says one definitely would, the other one maybe

I'm assuming the hard yes is gideon

last time gideon was sort of in charge of kids, things didn't go very well, though

rip the fourth

then they go eat and I don't quite get why nona is so picky with food

is it that the food is bad? or is her body rejecting it? or is she just a fussy child?

just putting this out there, if I ask things here, you don't need to tell me, I just ask to the void, it's fine

anyway, in comes pyrrha looking like crap but acting like it's all fine

she asks palmolive to help her get a permanent shave but palmolive says "I had the joy of working on a...body like yours, the once, and I don't want to repeat the process for anything smaller than a brain hemorrhage"

he was about to say 'lyctor', I imagine

not sure I know what this is referring to but please don't tell me

he asks pyrrha if it's "finally kicking off" and she says "not yet"

(wish this was just fiction and we weren't experiencing the imminent brewing of intense social and political tension every single day in so many places of the world)

nona goes to prepare a bath for her while palmolive and pyrrha fight about the people she saw being taken during the altercation she was caught in

she says she saw three adults taken in, no consensus on whether they were from the barracks or found in the wild

palmolive wants to go fuck shit up to save them but pyrrha says they (aka camilla) won't be able to fight against "two hundred motherfuckers with machine guns"

and points out that camolive aren't a lyctor

palmolive wants to upset pyrrha on account of her not wanting to do more to save people, especially since his house followed them there

and apparently camilla's older sister kiki was one of them

kiki is allegedly from the oversight body

which I have learned has nothing to do with the oversight of potentially having lost gideon's body

different oversight and different body

but pyrrha only cares about keeping all of them safe and can't be swayed into letting camolive fight

I get where pyrrha is coming from but, at the same time, I don't think it's realistic to believe she can do that

keep them safe, I mean

camolive are ready to spring into attack if someone looks at them wrong and nona is a child with a knife

but, in any case, you can't ask a lyctor for compassionate thought

not because they're lyctors but because some of them, including pyrrha, where there when this all started and were complicit in the fuckery

we'll go back to that in a bit

so, turns out nona can hear the blue light in the sky and she calls it "varun"

nona also tells camilla that she'd willingly go to the middle of the mess to help out the people they care about because she isn't afraid of dying

which smells like trouble to me, a kid with no self preservation

and camilla asks her why she isn't, to which nona responds that she likes the "letting go"

camilla responds that she doesn't let go, that is her thing

nona goes to have a bath before going to sleep and pyrrha has to remind her to stop flashing her boobs to the unsuspecting crowd

I have a parallel tally going on in my mind of who would be the most mortified about all this and harrow keeps winning every time

which would be extra funny if this is gideon's mind in harrow's body

JOHN 5:18 (ugh this guy again)

"For this reason they tried all the more to kill him; not only was he breaking the Sabbath, but he was even calling God his own Father, making himself equal with God."

when I named him doctor reverend instead of just doctor I didn't know how accurate that would be in the long run

dr reverend emperor john buttface says he doesn't like change

we kind of guessed that by the fact that he does inhumane things to extend his and other people's lives

he continues on his story of how he started necromancy by playing with two corpses he named ulysses and tatiana and how now he can make them do things with their whole bodies

none of this sounds great

gotta say, it's a good way of re-contextualizing the whole thing, though

because book 1 you are thrown right in the middle of the ninth and harrow is doing nasty stuff with bones and you have to just accept it and keep going

and then in canaan house other necros do other stuff that also seems wild but it's normalized, so you go on and you're like "ok, this is how things are here"

but seeing this at a time closer to us than to canaan house really brings it back to a "this is insane" territory

which I think is very effective narratively, especially to do it now

you're not here for literary criticism from me, though, so let's continue

he goes through who of his lyctors was religious to begin with, who took it as some sort of spiritual experience, and who didn't

mercygirl wasn't and was weirded out but moved on from it really fast

if you ask me, everyone moved on from it really fast, but I'm not a lyctor so I have no say in the matter

according to dr reverend emperor john assface, this was because they wanted to believe

because "everyone wants to believe that God's randomly made them on of the X-Men"

and, not to stop in a minuscule quote for too long and give more unsolicited literary analysis instead of memes but, this sentence shows a lot about this man

idk if this was picked specifically or if I'm reading too much into it BUT

out of every other superhero or superhero group or comic book character with powers he could have chosen, it's so interesting that he chose the x-men

because the x-men are notably different from many of them, especially from their time, because they were oppressed due to their powers

it wasn't just that their powers or their saving the world gig made things complicated for their lives, literally a big part of their narrative is that their powers make them a target of oppression to the point of persecution and violence

some of them famously don't want to have powers

and mutants who do have a good relationship with their powers rarely have a good relationship with society

but he overlooks that and only focuses on having superhuman abilities

and I think that says a lot about this man in just one nerdy sentence

because he's either a) overlooking the entire social context in which the x-men operated to only laser focus on their powers without caring about the rest

or b) he believes himself a victim and a target of society as a justification of being "chosen" to do what he did

since we're at it, because I think it fits the current book narrative and worldwide narrative

this is from 1993

ANYWAY

dr reverend emperor john says he knew, by this body moving thing he was doing now, that he could use this power "for good. Could be used to fix everything, used for you"

we still have this thing where he talks to harrow but as if harrow was around back then, so I think he's talking to ice cube barbie?? but I'm not yet sure what's happening

he also says the corpses were his batteries, which doesn't sound to me like doing good in general, just doing good for him, but anyway

they didn't want the people funding them (who had pulled the plug on them literally and metaphorically) to find out because they could be "used for evil"

so they decided to communicate with the people to spread the word themselves without anyone doing it for them

they decided to stream

cue to agustine and mercygirl as mods in the youtube chat prompting the command !sponsor to promote hello fresh ads while dr john shows the corpses

DAY THREE (CORONABEER MENTION)

CHAPTER 11 (fifth house skull, WE'LL TALK ABOUT THAT)

nona keeps talking about the pool situation, which she says is from her dreams

which doesn't line up with alleged harrow talking to dr reverend emperor john each time in between, but we'll continue

she says she's holding the "girl with the painted face" underwater and she is lying there but not drowning

but there are still hands around her, holding her

nona believes she must be mixing moments

I wonder if underwater girl with painted face allegedly harrow is where ice cube barbie used to be?

because a) it'd explain why she's not drowning but still underwater

and b) we ended up at the tomb last time in the end of harrow's book

and harrow went inside the empty tomb

WAIT A MINUTE

when harrow got into the tomb, it was empty

chains were broken and there was a sword and

fifth house erotica courtesy of gideon

IS THAT WHY THERE'S A FIFTH HOUSE SKULL IN HERE?

BECAUSE OF THE MAGAZINE?

pelase don't answer that, don't tell me anything at all, just let me fail

nona reproduces the way in which she's being held in the dream with camilla and says that in there it doesn't feel "sexy"

to which camilla asks wtf do you know about what sexy is

not in those exact words

apparently, she learned it from honesty

and says she thinks a painting of two flowers is sexy and asks camilla what she thinks is sexy

camilla says "eating breakfast"

camilla is sponsoring my apparel, this is the second ace tshirt with a quote from her I make from this book

nona tells her to ask palmolive what he thinks is sexy

my guess would be dying girls he never met personally

camilla says "strong work ethics and high test scores"

I'm getting a wardrobe out of this conversation

pyrrha is making breakfast and upon nona entering the room

or house section divided in a small space they call a room

she asks what they had been talking about because it "sounded fruity"

nona is onto pyrrha's bs though and can tell she hasn't slept, so pyrrha confesses that she went to the park

the park where she asked palmolive not to let camilla go

she says she didn't save anyone in a way that camolive would understand, so she doesn't want nona to tell them she went

nona isn't good with lies and I totally get that

pyrrha also tells nona to be careful about sriracha girlie because she was at the burn cages and keeping some sus company there

nona gets all mad about pyrrha saying that and calling her name "stupid"

I got mad at nona for getting mad in behalf of people she doesn't know anything about instead of trusting the advice of people she lives with

pyrrha doesn't insist much and nona says she isn't going to stop being friends with sriracha girlie because she has 0 self preservation and a death wish

as established in this same recap

pyrrha is then asked what she thinks is sexy and she pretty much describes commander wake

"love a redhead" she says

wonder if she knows what gideon looks like or if she's just still referencing commander wake

because she met her in harrow's body and I don't know if the oversight with gideon's body being misplaced happened after or before pyrrha saw her

DON'T TELL ME

nona says she doesn't think redheads are sexy, which palmolive thinks is important to note down

I also think it's important to note it down because it's more points for the "this is gideon" side of the scale

when asked what he thinks is sexy, palmolive gives the most boring answer yet

"those little outfits nurses wear"

does he have a thing for yami kawaii stuff? nurses outfits, sickly seventh girls? is this a thing for him?

or is this like the regular sexy nurse fantasy type stuff? the spirit halloween type stuff?

or is this silent hill nurse type stuff? the ones that can kill you?

I don't know, I'm gonna leave it at that, whatever works for you, my dude

we don't have time to ask palmolive specific on his fantasies, though

because the door opens suddenly and there's a GUN and a THREAT

love starting the morning with chill stuff

AND WE'RE DONE!! I'll see how I work through the chapters, they end up getting long if I wait too much but I don't want to oversaturate, which I was probably doing. Anyway, sending hugs and love your way ♥

#luly reacts to tlt #nona the ninth #nona the ninth spoilers #tlt #tlt spoilers #long post #gif cw

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brightvelvet · 2 days ago

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I'm going through season 1 of Rings of Power again before I start watching season 2. There's so much to talk about, but what I want to talk about here is Halbrand. Specifically, Halbrand and what he meant to Galadriel. **NOT WRITTEN WITH HALADRIEL IN MIND**.

For one, looking at interactions, these two don't feel like friends. There's no casual exchange of friendly words or touches. Galadriel looks at Halbrand and sees so many things. He's rough around the edges and wary, handsome if grody, and too clever. His goodness wasn't apparent from the get-go, and it appeals so well to Galadriel's own seeming struggle with darkness. They're equals, but Galadriel's watching Halbrand to see what he does as much as he's evaluating her.

Galadriel wasn't being wise or powerful when she kept coming back to Halbrand and his potential royal bloodline. To be clear, she doesn't trust anyone. She can only go to him because he won't care enough to use her and he's too kind to say no. Most importantly, she recognizes his type, someone she doesn't want to leave by their lonesome. Maybe it was selfish of her, to keep dragging Halbrand into her journey, but I don't think so. Halbrand was a cracked reflection of her flaws and strengths, and so she treats him not like any friend or ally. She treats him like he's cut from the same cloth as her, like he's a mirror of herself. She pushed him like she wished someone would push her. Unfortunately, we know that Halbrand was incredibly receptive to this.

For two, Halbrand's reciprocation to her actions just enflames their strange, intimate dynamic. Galadriel pushes hard, asking more and more of Halbrand and it seems harsh from the outside. Yet Halbrand stays with her step by step, taking in her commands and demands. Galadriel pushes so much of her own expectations on him and when she thinks of him the words -thank you- must surface. She realizes how tired she is of carrying everyone's expectations alone. Her gratefulness and guilt for him sharing her burden are what finally manifest Halbrand as that mythical King in her mind. Not his silver tongue or Southland's crest. They speak the same language, 'favors' as a weak cover for the fact that they are too loyal to ever refuse the other. She meets him at the bow of the ship and acknowledges this attachment. It becomes something she holds close to her chest in the absence of anything else. Not love, but some type of dream fantasy/fulfillment where Galadriel doesn't have to fight alone.

For three, Galadriel watches Halbrand fight the orcs and it cements something in place. Galadriel appreciated Halbrand before, was grateful and saw good qualities, but here we see that she genuinely doesn't want to let him go. She was never interested in redeeming his bloodline, not really. The 'bloodline right' was to convince other people of her cause and his glory. She never needed a material reason to want better for him. But now it sets a line between them. He was her equal when he was a low man but now he is a King and he has other obligations. It threatens to drag him from her, and I mean drag because he's demonstrated on a few occasions that he's just as attached, and she's conflicted. Maybe some part of her wants to grab him and run. It's not simple, what she feels for him. It's not simple what his person does for her. And the thing is, she knows what the correct course of action is. He looks noble, acts noble, and hundreds of Southlanders need him. He would be the King they were Promised. So she begins to let him go in her mind, loosen her dream from her heart, because she won't keep him. He'll become one of her ideals (like Elrond, like her husband, like her brother) and she'll remember their time together as bittersweet.

In the end, Sauron grows impatient of Halbrand.

Her dream dies when Halbrand eventually asks for the one thing Galadriel wouldn't give.

Halbrand himself dies a dishonorable, screaming death. His pupils shrink to slits, his eyes shot through with red. His teeth become ungainly and sharp. His skin turns grey and darkens with visible veins.

Galadriel turns her blade against him.

She'd looked up to him on his mortal, Kingly pedestal. She'd envied him, been so proud, and wanted to steal him away. And in the wake of his utter betrayal, she has to try and think past the flames.

Halbrand's dead, even if he never existed in the first place. She can't mourn him, for so many reasons, and she must immediately get ready for battle because her massive fuck-up could cost the lives of everyone she loves.

Halbrand's ghost will haunt her though, and I'm sure not just in the form of her worst nightmare come to life.

#halbrand #galadriel #the rings of power #amazon rings of power #character study #not love nor hate #but a secret third thing #gone forever

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liketwoswansinbalance · 3 days ago

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I've been thinking about this dilemma for so long, so I decided to make a poll.

All I can say for now is that I fall into the "situational" category. In my opinion, unless I've forgotten some critical, concrete evidence, it's so hard to tell, to the point that I think it must be nuanced and situational, or simply a non-explicitly-addressed point in canon.

We've nearly always seen him in a position of authority and he's a disciplined character, so we could say "rule-follower." Why would he sabotage his own rules, even if he had authority to supersede them as their creator. So, yes, he is (even tentatively) pro-rules or potentially pro-rule-of-law because of how he wields authority. Indeed, he is kind of a walking rulebook.

But that's no fun. Let's complicate matters, shall we?: he deserts the School in Rise. A notable exception.

(His Monrovia Prison prison-break doesn't count at the moment because that "had to be done," in the spirit of self-preservation.)

Then, what of others' rules?

Maybe he'd follow them only at his convenience? Because he's used to being the authority in every room?

Any rule that doesn't make sense, that would seem beneath him, or just wouldn't fly—he wouldn't follow or allow it.

But... isn't he also intentionally a contrarian over 50% of the time? So, maybe he'd flout the rules just because he can, or, i.e., because he (usually) has immunity from them in his authoritative position.

Yet, if he didn't have that position, would he still rebel? Hard to say.

If he already benefited, he'd have little to no reason to rebel for others' sakes, even if they were suffering, so he's no classic, rebel protagonist vs. a dystopian government. Seems too idealistic for his character.

If he were on the oppressed side of a society, what would he do?

Perhaps, just game the system for himself and himself only, climb the ladder for status, to reach a position of power and erase all evidence of his formerly being oppressed. Bury the old identity, supplant a dictator? (This hypothetical brings to mind Coriolanus Snow, haha.)

How do I know? Or how would I speculate that this would happen in the dystopian scenario?:

1. This "elevating himself" course of action would be the route of least resistance and the least effort, logically. No messy overturning of society as he's just one person. You can make a case for one person, if that person can prove they're "deserving" of more.

2. Canonically, he was willing to install himself in a position of power while others weren't impacted or were negatively impacted, by his conscious-or-not choices.

With sorcery, I feel as if his being oppressed couldn't happen believably. (Search up the logistical problem with the "oppressed mages trope" and you'll probably see a few world-building articles, if you don't know what I'm talking about.)

Ok, then, moving on, there'd still be evidence, internal evidence, in his mind that he was once in some form of some low (social) position (not even referring to Nevers in-narrative, no, I mean as a hypothetical).

Just take the oppressed fantasy class trope—like the Grisha (they are sorcerers/witches, to a degree, and the Small Sciences are nearly indistinguishable from magic, right?).

What would he do there?

Well, I'm tempted to say he'd be like the Darkling, side with those in power (Tsar) and just... grant himself every advantage, secure rights for his own kind (magic-users).

The problem: he may not even reach Darkling levels of "selflessness" or solidarity. At least, he wouldn't view himself as lesser-than, which feels impossible by default, given his ego.

But, we're still left with the question, and I guess the answer is just situational. That's all.

So, the best, approximate answer I have (now) is that he is a rule-follower—until something affects him and his own self-interest personally.

I don't think he could be the rebel-without-a-cause type, but that's already unspecific and a useless categorization.

I view him as a loophole abuser or exploiter (of the literal) because of the one, weight-in-gold, Man-Wolf-involved, Rufius-death scene from Fall.

Classic trickster archetype, as I tend to label him, or The Man of Exact Words and Clauses. And that's within the rules! Of language!

Thus, I'm (currently—you're welcome to try to change my mind) compelled to say: rule-follower at heart, with a rebellious streak, given extenuating circumstances.

Or, alternatively, True Neutral (literally his apathy) in most cases, with a self-serving streak and a severe case of monotropism/one-track mind.

Does any motive or incentive to dismantle anything, systems(?), lurk in the shadows of his mind? Possibly. Well—for anything that serves him (and his causes).

See the problem? Caveats to everything.

Any thoughts or more condemning-or-not judgments, anyone?

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rinwellisathing · 2 days ago

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Companion dialogues for my OCs part 1:

Father Ilya Barghest: Ilya: What brought you to your faith in your goddess, Gale? Gale: I suppose I hadn't thought about it, I've been connected to The Weave so thoroughly my whole life. Mystra is The Weave, and The Weave is a part of me. Ilya: I see! Back home in Rasheman our boys gifted with the weave are hidden from Mystra, mothers and fathers fear them attracting her eye. It is fascinating to see the difference here. ----

Shadowheart: I hope my faith won't be a problem for you, Ilmatari. Ilya: I judge my companions by actions, not words, Shadowheart. When I watch you I see a deeply feeling person with a softness towards children and animals. I think you are just petty sometimes, and really who among us is not? Besides, you have excellent taste in wine! Shadowheart: I....suppose I'll take the compliment.

---- Minsc: You are a quiet sort indeed, my holy friend! Ilya: O...Oh...y...yes, mister...um....I mean....Minsc, Sir! I...I simply don't wish to b...bother you. Minsc: Ha! It is no bother! Boo is fond of you and so too is Minsc! Ilya: O...oh! I'm...It's...it's an honor. Minsc: Eh...no, it is still a hamster.

Sentry Ojeda: Sentry: You know what? I think we've got this! We'll be rid of these tadpoles in no time! Wyll: Oh? I admire your confidence, Sentry, but what makes you say that? Sentry: Well, you know what they say! Where there's a 'Wyll' there's a way! Wyll: *stifled chuckle*

----- Shadowheart: People who stand in the middle of the path to read a map. Sentry: People who hang vapid artwork. Shadowheart: People who can afford better but serve cheap wine. Sentry: People who think the courtesan is in love with them. Shadowheart: Gods, you win. That's the worst. ---- Jaheira: Commander Ojeda was a good woman, if she saw your potential, I believe you have the power to resist Bhaal Sentry: I sure hope so. Hey...while we're talking, what was my mum like as a friend? Jaheira: Could drink a barbarian twice her size under the table, a sharp judge of character, and gods that woman was funny. The observations she made about the stuffy people we would work with.

Jaina Thalassia:

Shadowheart: Ugh...Selunite magic...that 'protection spell' is making my skin crawl. Jaina: It's almost slimy, isn't it? Wave Mother forgive me. ---- Jaina: So, Wyll, you were fond of mermaids as a child? Wyll: Yes, I always imagined meeting one in person. Still, I never imagined they'd be so beautiful. Jaina: Ha! Flatterer. Maybe some evening I'll show you my tail.... Wyll: O...Oh! Ah....ahem...

---- Lae'zel: You prove quite deadly in combat, teethling, not like your kin back at the grove. Jaina: I was raised on a pirate ship, Lae'zel, I'd imagine it's not too different from those Githyanki transports on the Astral Sea. Ah...also, tiefling. Astarion is the only 'teeth'ling.

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charliedawn · 1 day ago

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Hi Charlie! Just a random question...we know from previous fics/reactions that Jason and Brahms are like, besties with eachother in St.Louis...Could you maybe write how they meet and began their friendship...was Jason at facility before or after Brahms...?

(Sorry for potential bad spelling, English isn't my first language)

Brahms had been in St. Louis for a while, tucked into his routines—silent breakfasts, pacing the hallways, and retreating to corners where he could observe without being seen. He didn’t talk much unless necessary, preferring the company of shadows and the occasional hum of a lullaby under his breath. He didn’t expect anyone new to catch his attention.

Then Jason arrived.

It wasn’t subtle. The staff struggled to contain him—a towering figure with hollow eyes behind a cracked hockey mask, his silence heavier than Brahms’ own. He didn’t flinch when sedatives were injected, didn’t respond when called by name. Just stood there, breathing like a quiet storm waiting to break.

Brahms watched from afar at first, curious about this new mountain of a man. There was something comforting about Jason’s stillness, the way he didn’t fill the air with meaningless words. He was just there, like a monument carved from grief and rage. Brahms liked that he respected boundaries—until he no longer did. Brahms avoided him at first. Until one night.

The day they made Brahms share a room with Jason was the day the walls of St. Louis felt too small.

He stood in the doorway, arms crossed tightly over his chest, his porcelain mask tilted just enough to glare at the staff with thinly veiled contempt. His room—his sanctuary, his carefully controlled space—was no longer his.

Because of him.

Jason Voorhees stood near the window, towering and silent, his cracked hockey mask reflecting the muted light. His duffel bag, filled with whatever minimal belongings the staff allowed him to keep, sat untouched on the floor. Jason didn’t acknowledge Brahms, didn’t even turn his head. Just stood there, as if the very air belonged to him now.

Brahms huffed dramatically, dropping onto his neatly made bed with an exaggerated flop, limbs splayed like a petulant child. “I don’t want a roommate,” he snapped, voice sharp and dripping with disdain. He glared at the staff member lingering in the doorway, waiting to mediate.

“Facility’s full,” the nurse replied curtly. “You’ll adjust.”

Brahms didn’t adjust. Not that day. Not the next.

Jason rarely engaged with anyone, his silence and intimidating aura kept most people at bay. He mostly spent time outside, tending to the garden, or in his room, flipping through old books about camping and fishing. Jason—this massive figure looming in the hallway or sitting silently in the common area—made Brahms nervous. Jason was even taller than him, stronger, and completely unreadable.

For the first few days, he made it his mission to be as irritating as humanly possible. He left his belongings in precise, territorial lines—books stacked with the spines facing a specific direction, his carved dolls positioned ominously on Jason’s side of the room. He hummed lullabies too loudly, stomped around unnecessarily, and muttered under his breath about “giant oafs with no manners.”

Jason never reacted. Not once.

That, of course, infuriated Brahms even more.

One night, after an especially frustrating day of being utterly ignored, Brahms decided to escalate. He deliberately shoved Jason’s duffel bag with the tip of his foot, sending it sliding a few inches across the floor. “Oh, dear. Did your precious little bag move ?” he sneered mockingly, crossing his arms and waiting—begging—for a reaction.

Jason finally moved.

Slowly, Jason turned his head, the cracked mask tilting just slightly, fixing Brahms with that hollow, expressionless stare. The room grew heavier, thick with unspoken tension.

Brahms’ smugness faltered for a fraction of a second.

Jason stepped forward—not fast, not aggressive, just deliberate. He crouched, picked up the bag, and slid it back without breaking eye contact. Then he stood, looming like a shadow stitched to the walls.

Brahms’ mouth opened, some snide remark teetering on the edge, but…nothing came out. His chest felt tight. Not with fear exactly—no, of course not—but with something unsettling.

Jason didn’t say a word. Didn’t need to.

Brahms climbed into bed without another sound that night, pulling the covers up to his chin, his heart pounding for reasons he didn’t understand.

But over the following weeks, the hostility faded—not because Jason demanded it, but because Jason never did.

Jason’s silence wasn’t a threat. It was just… there. Steady. Like a tree that didn’t care if Brahms shouted at it. And somewhere between petty jabs and tense stares, Brahms realized he didn’t mind the company.

A few days later:

The first time Jason had a nightmare, Brahms thought the walls were caving in.

It started with a sound—a low, guttural noise, something between a growl and a whimper. Brahms, curled up under his covers, stirred at the disturbance, irritated more than anything. He cracked open an eye, ready to snap at Jason for being loud—

Then Jason moved.

It was violent, sudden—his massive body jerking upright, fists clenched, breath ragged and wrong. Even in the dim moonlight filtering through the window, Brahms could see the way Jason trembled, his whole frame shaking with something primal, something terrible.

Brahms barely had time to react before Jason lunged.

A massive hand clamped around his wrist, yanking him forward with terrifying strength. Brahms gasped, his back slamming against the mattress, Jason’s weight pinning him down in an instant.

“What are you doing ?! Unhand me this instant, you big stupid—!"

Oh.

Brahms’ eyes widened when he saw the giant’s eyes and the tears streaming down his face. He wasn’t awake. Not really. Jason’s hollow eyes were open but empty, lost in something far away. His breathing was uneven, harsh, almost pained. His fingers tightened around Brahms’ wrist, not crushing but firm, holding onto something—or someone—that wasn’t there anymore.

For the first time, Brahms felt the true extent of Jason’s strength. If Jason wanted to hurt him, if he really wanted to—there’d be nothing left of him but broken bones and bloodstains on the sheets.

But he didn’t.

Jason wasn’t attacking. He was reaching.

Brahms could feel it now, the way Jason’s grip wavered, like a drowning man clinging to the last thing keeping him afloat. It wasn’t aggression. It was fear.

Brahms went still.

For once, he didn’t fight. Didn’t struggle. Didn’t snap.

Instead, he moved.

With careful, deliberate intent, Brahms shifted—slowly, gently—until his arms circled Jason’s broad shoulders. And then, with more strength than people ever gave him credit for, he hugged him.

Jason tensed. Every muscle in his body locked tight, as if he was bracing for something awful.

Brahms didn’t let go.

His fingers curled into the fabric of Jason’s shirt, his breathing slow and steady. He wasn’t sure what made him do it—maybe it was the way Jason had never once lashed out at him despite his constant antagonizing, or maybe it was because he knew what it felt like to wake up in a cold sweat, heart pounding from ghosts of the past.

So he held on. Firm, but not forceful. Protective, but not suffocating.

Jason’s breath hitched. His fist, still gripping Brahms’ arm, shook. And then, after what felt like an eternity, the tension melted.

Jason didn’t collapse, not entirely, but he slumped, his weight no longer rigid, no longer ready to fight. His breathing slowed, his grip loosening—not because he was letting go, but because he didn’t need to hold on so desperately anymore.

Brahms didn’t say anything. He just kept his arms around him, waiting, grounding.

Eventually, Jason shifted—silent, hesitant—and returned the hug.

Brahms exhaled, relaxing into it.

They didn’t talk about it in the morning…

But Jason never pulled away when Brahms sat closer after that.

Brahms had trouble sleeping himself. His nightmares were relentless, and that one night which was particularly bad. He had woken up drenched in sweat, his breath ragged. Feeling suffocated, he left his room and wandered the facility, ending up in the courtyard.

Jason was there.

Sitting on one of the benches, staring up at the sky. Just...sitting.

Brahms hesitated. He didn’t want to go back inside, but he also didn’t want to be near Jason. Yet, for some reason, he stayed. He sat on the opposite bench, far enough away to avoid feeling threatened but close enough that he wasn’t completely alone.

Neither of them spoke.

The silence stretched on.

Then, after what felt like an eternity, Jason shifted slightly and held something out. A small wooden figurine. Brahms hesitated before taking it.

It was a frog.

Brahms looked up, startled. Jason was watching him, tilting his head slightly as if waiting for a reaction.

Brahms turned the figurine over in his hands, running his fingers along the smooth, carved edges. It was simple but well-crafted—detailed enough to recognize as a frog, yet rough in a way that suggested it had been made with care rather than perfection. He swallowed, unsure what to say. Jason hadn’t spoken, hadn’t gestured, just…offered.

Brahms glanced up again, watching Jason’s mask in the dim courtyard light. The hulking man had returned to staring at the sky, as if nothing had happened.

Brahms shifted on the bench, the wooden frog warm in his palm. He wasn’t used to gifts. Not real ones, anyway. His fingers tightened around it. Say something. Do something. But words felt foreign, and he wasn’t sure Jason would care for them anyway. So instead, he did what felt natural.

He reached into the pocket of his cardigan and pulled out a small trinket—a marble, smooth and dark, with a swirl of deep blue in the center. Brahms had found it in the facility’s art room weeks ago and kept it ever since, fascinated by the way the light bent through it. He hesitated only a moment before leaning forward, placing it carefully on the bench between them.

Jason’s head turned slightly. He looked down at the marble, then back at Brahms.

For a moment, Brahms thought he had made a mistake. Maybe Jason wouldn’t understand. Maybe Jason didn’t trade. Or make friends. But then, with slow, deliberate movements, Jason picked up the marble between two fingers. Examined it. Turned it in the dim light the way Brahms had done countless times before.

Brahms held his breath.

Jason tucked the marble away in his pocket.

Brahms let out a quiet exhale, a strange warmth settling in his chest.

The silence stretched on again, but this time it felt different. Lighter. Jason returned to looking at the sky. Brahms, still holding the small wooden frog, followed his gaze.

For the first time in a long time, the night didn’t feel so lonely.

“…Pretty.” Brahms said after a few seconds and Jason gave a slow nod. It was an odd friendship, built on silence, stolen moments, and quiet understanding.

But it worked.

And since then, they have been best buddies and even when the nurses tried to separate them—they couldn’t because Brahms would start crying and Jason would start cutting off heads. So for the safety of all, they stayed roommates.

…..

Brahms: “Jason ! There’s ice cream at the cafeteria !”

Jason *stands up as fast as he can and they both run for it—Brahms waiting for him every time the big guy trips and falls in his hurry because he wants to enjoy ice cream with his best bud.*

#fandoms #imagine #fanfic #brahms heelshire #jason voorhees #slashers

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