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eatmangoesnekkid · 2 years ago

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The Everyday Practice of Abundance Consciousness

What was I thinking? Who was I trying to be? It’s unlike me at this stage of my life to think more than I am being. I’m no longer interesting in trying to grind it out during the wee hours of the morning. I'm taking a break from the few tasks I have left on my books for 7-10 days. I have sacred things I do to protect my body from absorbing too many EMFs, and what's also true, is that when you are a deep feeler/ highly sensitive, you receive deeper wisdom than most (which is a divine and precious gift that helps people like me to serve in the world) but you also deeply receive waves of stressful energy far more easily than most ...even with the metrics of protection surrounding you.

There is no separation or difference. If you have the gift of heart, intuition, and deeper sight, you have to manage not living in the shadows of those gifts. We weren’t physiologically designed to sit behind these computers, staring into them for days/weeks at a time which is what I have been doing. When your awareness expands, you are no longer numb to what’s happening with your body which stops you from repeating the same patterns that will deepen your body’s pain and suffering overtime. When I’m on my computer or phone too many days in a row, I can actually feel the waves draining my vitality, re-configuring my cells, and shifting the quality of my life.

Our eyes---the windows to our soul-- need to peak at trees, dirt, and sunlight undistractedly. I’m grateful that I curated a life where I can turn off my phone and computer, put them away in the back of my closet for a few days, and dust off my record player and finally read “Of Water and the Spirit.”

How we sense “time” is always a reflection of the consciousness we are living in. And there are only two types of consciousness: Fear/Scarcity/Lack or Love/Abundance/Vitality. When we release ourselves from expectations, we curate more abundant space for joy, and become free...eventually. I started shifting my energy imprint away from the consciousness of fear/scarcity/lack and into abundance consciousness around 12-15 years ago (I lost track of the exact time) despite not having any evidence of abundance in my life as I was working 50 hours per week and in a toxic relationship. In the beginning of shifting between paradigms and consciousness, there can be a lot of grave tension, release, pain, resistance, loneliness, and disruption, until finally homeostasis settles (may takes months or years). Abundance consciousness also gets us back into our bodies in real ways and allows us to genuinely love ourselves as we are, beyond every materialistic system. If we can hold the candle lit towards abundance consciousness, then the universe has no choice but to organize life around us in such a way that matches our new imprint/emanation like an algorithm...eventually. It takes time though and patience. And we have to be soft and strong enough not to give up on it or the new version of ourselves.

The Ingenious Divine Feminine Medicine Path

Let’s climb in a little deeper and get more grounded into this teaching. What I have to say now is NOT for everyone, only for those with spiritual resonance. My work is all about educating on how to reclaim the highest transmutation frequencies and greatest integrity that will “heal” or restore our individual selves and bring more collective harmony on this planet. When we are not living in abundance, flooded in resources as part of our divine natural birthright, there is a part of our unconscious mind (our shadow) that likes not living in the abundance and is in love with scarcity and lack because it feels familiar and safe. We don’t *consciously* love it, of course, but we do unconsciously LOVE the drama, karma, and lack of ease--all those internal chemicals, feels, and sensations. We have to learn to love what’s happening, not just in our light but in our darkest most hidden, sometimes filthiest or dank aspects. We love being broke, not have enough “time,” feeling not enough, feeling ugly, having people be jealous of us, attracting narcissistic people... because a part of us is narcissistic or at least attracted to being victimized, etc. A portal opens when we stop outsourcing our experiences (and the raw energy coiled within them that we need) onto someone else such as “oh, but he was a narcissistic so I...” or “my boss did this so I didn’t...” or “they made me...” Being courageous and seeing how you love and find comfort in specific exhaustive frequencies year after year, whether it is karmic or a conditioned pattern, allows you to access the dark energy within these experiences, the benevolent creative energy or “yin/feminine energy” , that gives you greater access to your full potential, the raw energy beyond the stories. Accessing this raw energy releases the resistance and stuckness and brings more flow and momentum towards your soul’s true path. This is all sexual energy. This is how we begin to love and adore the truth of what the feminine really is.

Much of the work has to do with “sexual healing,” because this is usually where the energy is stuck or kinked up that is shrinking our life force also known as prana also known as potential. Sexual healing happens when you begin to have full access to your life force energy. Coming into full integrity with your energy body will make you feel more alive, abundant, and connected to spirit. In order to attract the kind of relationship you long for, you have to be the kind of person you desire to meet. To be ready for the most amazing relationship, you have to go into dark “wombed” energy and clear out what is inhibiting full access to your life force energy.

Returning to the Original Template: A Keeper of Infinite Possibilities

Our souls are equipped for these times but we do have to be intentional in our unlearning to override the body’s signals so that we can come back to what we we born for and share the gifts we have been entrusted with. I intentionally created my life from the wisdom and medicine I gained through my decolonial sexual healing practices, like learning to connect to the divine through undulating my hips as prayer in wild, uncultivated, ‘off-the-beaten-path’ nature. Everyone needs sexual healing due to the limits and trauma that have been inflicted upon over many timelines, not from a place of victimization, but from the archetype of the alchemist so that we can retrieve back our freedom of time, energy, and resources.

No one escapes the impact of a sexually wounded society that shrouds us in limits around time, resources, and possibility. The messaging handed down to us by our parents, by religions, and by advertising, porn, celebrities, music, etc lives active in our root posterier chain- our backs, spine, hips, glutes, knees, pelvis, and bellies. As part of the female lineage, we naturally carry around so much of what’s happening in the collective within. All the cultural, inherited, and religious sexual shame and guilt make home out of our bodies. Most of us are not fully aware of the impact that these collective residences have on our health, relationships, capacity to receive money, and other forms of abundance like “time-freedom.” We are supposed to care, go inside ourselves like mothers delivering our own babies, and birth real solutions that do not look like us constantly absorbing and never pulling the roots.

Because nowhere in the Western world are we taught that our sexual energy is sacred, regenerates our bodies, and is connected to every part of our lives and the earth. Or that our sexual energy isn’t just about sex. It is our flow of life force. It is our heartbeat. And it is absolutely necessary to have access to our sexual energy beyond the shame and wounding if we desire to truly live. Instead we respond to our sexual energy through hurts and trauma by shutting ourselves down in order to feel safe. And these unconscious ways stay with us and effect us in every way. All the sneaking around, embarrassment, hiding, and performing around bodies and sex, commodifying our sex mainly for the male gaze, and shame around being a sexual being actually shuts down our potential in the external world, including freedom from Gregorian time and the ability to regenerate our bodies.. Amplifying your sexual energy grows your prana/life force which means that how to increase your prana has to become a part of your wellness practice. Purifying your sexual energy is a big part of it. Without this sexual healing, we have no roots or wings. No earth, no heaven.

Life gets to be incredibly easy and truthful for us all. We do not have force or push through like machinery. I wish you a life of abundance, where you do not have to hustle and be in constant out-put mode, and can take as many breaks as needed to water yourself (your actual cells) so that you continue to pour from your overflow and have a healthy immune system and pain-free periods as a result. Female physiology is so tender and needs abundance: rest, nature, quiet, touch, belly laughs, and breaks, basic human needs that my heart won’t allow me to ignore or bypass. When you live aligned with the consciousness of abundance, it goes against your nature and principles to force, shallow breathe, or live desperately. Abundance consciousness gives us plethora of options to choose from which includes the ability to: 1. take our time and 2. take care of our cells. The Melody of Love is so delicious though ...that my ego wanted to push right on through like it was the end of the month when I worked as a Tax Accountant Maniac, but my heart and body whispered for me to stop. I listened. I sincerely wish for lives where we can all listen to the soft whispers that never have to become screams in order to get our attention. One loveliness xx

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big-bad-a-detective-story · 4 months ago

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Chapter 10

“I can’t believe you did that.”

I peeked my eyes open; it wasn’t the first time having done so, as I watched my roommate readjust himself in the chair next to my hospital bed. I groaned. If this was anything like the last dozen spiels Felix had given over the last few days, I should just close my eyes and tune him out. If I was lucky, the guy would stop if he thought I was unconscious.

Naturally, I underestimated how much Felix was given to his dramatics.

“You almost died, Norman. DIED! And where would that have left me? Hmm? Grief stricken! Absolutely wrought with guilt and despair! But did you ever think of that? Of course not!”

I could hear a choked sob, and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. What a drama queen. With the way the guy had been going on, you’d think Felix thought my injuries were meant as a slight against him!

The fox continued his ranting:

“You HAD to go and play hero, didn’t you? No care for MY feelings! Now look at you, you’re practically dead!”

I groaned and laid my head back down. For once, this unsung hero was wishing to remain unsung, if it meant being scolded for it! But Felix continued to sing, on and on, every day I spent in the hospital. Whether he was being a loyal companion or just needed someone to complain to, I still didn’t know. But he was there, he kept the silence at bay ... no matter how much I yearned for it.

Ah, yes, but about the case. That’s why you’re here, after all! Not to worry. Both of the Crooked Man’s crooked goons were apprehended ... and sent directly to the hospital. But after that! Directly to prison. Another case solved.

Well, almost. My sources inform me they never found the Crooked Man ... he’s likely still out there. But without a home, without backup, it’s only a matter of time before I find him and bring him to justice.

Two out of three wasn’t bad, after all. I’d take it, for now.

I was startled out of my reminiscence by the sudden attack on my pillow. Felix, no doubt from a mixture of boredom and worry, was back to fussing over me. In this case, quite literally, as he attempted to fluff the pillow back to life.

“Felix, do you MIND?” I glared, doing my best to re-situate my bedding. Not an easy task, considering I had an arm out of commission-- cocooned and cradled against my chest. “I’m roughed up as it is; I don’t need you adding to it, ya know!”

This seemed to break my roommate out of the aggravated spell that had been over him, as his over the top theatrics became more somber.

“I’m sorry, Norman. You just looked uncomfortable, and I don’t know what to do with myself while I’m here.”

“You can always try going home.” I grumbled. The Big Bad Wolf wasn’t someone who liked being coddled, even on a good day! Felix, however, bristled at the idea- a shudder going through him that ended at the tip of his tail.

“And leave you to the wolves, doing who knows what because you think you’re fine when you’re most certainly NOT?” The fox shook his head, plopping back down in the chair next to the bed, scooting the chair closer. “Heavens, no. Mother Goose knows what sort of trouble you’d get in here by yourself. Better to stay put until you come home with me.”

This declaration was finished with his hands gently placed on my broken arm-- rubbing it as if to soothe through the layers of the cast. I sunk deeper into the mattress, not having the energy to fight off the nagging any longer. I sighed, defeated.

“Whatever you say, Felix…”

“There there,” my pal comforted. “ On the plus side, a little birdie may have told me that you’ll have some visitors today. A bit of a change of pace. Won’t that be nice, hun?”

“Goodie, more questions from the police.” Sarcasm became genuine as a smile broke out on my maw. “Although, I wouldn't mind gloating some more to Constable Ogol. She nearly blew a fuse the last time she was here.”

Ah, memories. Sometimes it paid to be good at my job. Maybe not in money, per sey… But eh, that’ll come eventually. For now, the Big Bad Wolf would have to settle on what he could get.

I caught Felix smirking in his seat, sitting up straighter in that smug way of his, and I instantly realized I’d been mistaken.

“Well Norman, that’ll have to wait, because today’s visitor is a little bit more motherly than Ms. Ogol.”

My heart sank like a ball of lead into the pit of my stomach. I let out another groan, just so he’d know how unhappy I was with the current situation.

“Felix, please tell me you didn’t invite your mother to visit me in the hospital.”

I watched from the corner of my vision as Felix’s smirk collapsed into a deep frown. He huffed.

“Not MY mother, but even so, you could STAND to be a little bit more polite when you speak about her.”

The next part was mumbled and barely audible.

“No matter what she says about you.”

I was ready to confront this new information, but was momentarily distracted by the sound of knocking on the doorframe. I lifted my head to see ... Ms. Meaiz and seven eager little faces crowding the doorway.

It didn’t take long for the room to be flooded with kids, the lot stampeding inside in greeting. I oofed as Daniya jumped on the bed, throwing her arms around my neck--her siblings deciding to crowd close to their Uncle Fefe.

“Hiyah, Mr. Wolf!” The girl beamed, probably being one of the few people in the world genuinely pleased to see my mug. “Are you surprised to see us?”

“Very.” I used my good arm to give her a pat, not quite sure how long a hug was supposed to last. “What are you guys doing here?”

“I hope you don’t mind,” began Ms. Meaiz, “Mr. Fox mentioned you’ve been antsy waiting around, and the children missed you both.” The goat woman smiled apologetically. “That, and, um… Larry sends his thanks.”

“ ... Really?” I must have been giving her a funny look, because she giggled.

“Mhm! He’s in pretty high spirits these days. His sentence was reduced to two months of community service, thanks to his good behavior.”

Ah. So he ended up snitching, after all. I wasn’t surprised in the slightest. Disappointed, maybe, as there was about to be yet another crook back out on the streets. A detective’s work is never done.

That stormy line of thought was put on hold as the kid began bouncing up and down excitedly on my chest, making it difficult to breathe.

“Mr. Wolf! Tell ‘em! Tell ‘em about our super cool detective adventure!” Daniya paused to pout, but at least she’d quit bouncing. “They don’t believe me!” She pointed over to the swarm of kids climbing on and hanging off of a very distressed and tired looking Felix. They all froze and turned to stare at me, expectantly.

I sputtered from the suddenness of the demand.

“I… well...”

Oh, what the heck. I always loved having an audience, anyhow. Especially youngins with stars in their eyes. I puffed my chest proudly-- grabbing my hat that was on the side table with a few of my other belongings-- as I plopped it on my head. To set the mood, you know.

So, like any good story, I started from the beginning.

“Tea shop. Wednesday, 6 pm. Or at least, assumed…”

THE END

#big bad: a detective story #norman d wolf #felix fox #the case of the nanny napped mother #chapter 10

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elsmaster · 2 years ago

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Every other social media platform has turned to burning garbage and I haven’t made weird life updates on Tumblr since November 2019, so let’s do a brief rundown, because oh man, it’s been a ride! Everything is mainly related to mental health, so if you somehow still follow me but also don’t care, you can just carry on!

I was diagnosed with

LQTS2, which is a heart thing (”abnormal feature of the heart's electrical system that can lead to a potentially life-threatening arrhythmia”) that generally only acts up once, with the consequence being “death”. Except mine’s the more chill version, and the cardiologist’s genuine professional opinion was “if it hasn’t killed you by your thirties, it’s unlikely to do so at all”. So I guess it’s great I haven’t... died? I’m not allowed to do competitive sports though, which is absolutely tragic oh no whatever will I do with my life now??? I shouldn’t eat licorice either, but fuck that. If licorice is what gives me a heart attack, then so be it.

Bipolar 2 and generalised anxiety, which is probably not even a little bit surprising to anyone who has met me, ever. Especially the bipolar bit. Again, I got the slightly more chill version, so I only get a little manic sometimes, and the annoying kind of depressed where you’re not really sad or happy, but rather just...meh. Mixed episodes seem to be my jam, and they’re absolutely 0/10, would not recommend.

Somewhat related to the previous two: I did one more round of burnout, and I’m currently maybe going through a Burnout Lite, which is honestly not even surprising at this point, because my mental health has been confirmed as wonky af, and my coping skills are still pretty much “I DON’T NEED HELP I CAN DO THIS OK”.

I have a therapist now. She keeps telling me I keep intellectualising my feelings, which is a very rude thing to point out, but also 100% true. I’ve told her I like to think of my feelings as something I’ve stuffed into a worn-out cardboard box that I’ve the taped up, tied with a nice bow, and buried under my bed. She does not like this. (We’ve actually made a lot of progress and I can already feel my feelings. Sometimes. It’s awful.)

I have a job that doesn’t destroy me emotionally, even if it’s 1000 % not something I ever thought I’d do for a living. Which I guess is kinda nice, because I have no emotional attachments to it, and I can just leave my work behind after my work day. Buuuut I also still kinda live to overachieve (see: Burnout Lite).

I was given manager-type responsibilities in my previous job, with no extra pay, and I was supposed to manage a team while also doing my own work tasks. This was the key reason for the second round of burnout. This was also why I eventually, finally quit.

I started studying for a new bachelor’s degree (see: overachieving) in August, and completed 61 credits by the end of the year. You’re supposed to do 30 per semester. Maybe perhaps perchance a little less if you’re working full time (see: Burnout Lite).

My dog is still the absolute best and the light of my life. She’s almost ten and getting grayer by the day, but she still acts like a puppy most of the time. Look at her.

Anyway, I’m still around. I’m closer to 40 than 30, feel like 80 or 20 depending on the day, and can apparently still pass for 25. I still browse Tumblr daily, and miss the olden days, when there was life and constant garbage fires, and stupid fandom wars that I could watch fly by in utter confusion.

#this is my life

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thefanficmonster · 3 years ago

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Hey can you make a moist cr1tikal x reader where they're sibling of a famous YouTuber and makes YouTube videos of their own and he's a big fan of

Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request! I hope you don't mind the headcanons format, a full fic requires a long wait and I don't wanna put you through that so here it is! If you still want a full fic, don't be hesitant to ask! Enjoy 💕

Pairing: Moist Cr1tikal x Jacksepticeye's Sibling!Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

- As the younger sibling of none other than Jacksepticeye, you’ve had your fair share of second-hand fame over the years you’ve spent helping him grow his channel and attend conventions

- Over these years, you’ve garnered a certain love for content creating you never before thought you’d develop but you were more than happy to announce it to Jack who shared your enthusiasm and was your biggest supporter right from the get-go

- He still is the leader of your fan club much like you are of his

- Only difference is that now, that club actually has members other than him

- Albeit with his help, you managed to attract a decent amount of viewers to your streams every day until you hit a million subscribers within a time period of less than a year

- He was happier than you were, and that was not an easy task to achieve

- No, seriously, Evelien was worried you two would break the sound barrier with your shouting and cheering

- The way you officially celebrated that milestone, however, was not a classic party

- First of all, because of the raging Covid issue that was still at large play in the world at the time

- And second: Because you had made a promise to your brother

- Since you were dead-set on doing all you possibly could to get your own following and not piggyback off of his, you never collaborated on anything together

- There was not a single stream or video where you featured him and you had allowed only very few of his to feature you as a background lurker taking care of the technical stuff

- That being said, when Jack would complain on your avoidance of him like two siblings in high school (with a role reversal), you made him the promise

- “When, or if I reach 1 mil, we’ll collaborate, ok? Not only that, but we’ll play Among Us!”

- Ah, thinking back to that, do you feel the nostalgia?

- Time flies so quickly you’ve come to measure it in anniversaries rather than days and months

- Why anniversaries?

- Let’s get to that story, shall we?

- You were the last one to enter the lobby, having purposely been given a time later than intended so everyone could gather before your arrival

- You were nervous as all hell, palms sweaty, bouncing leg, restless fingers, the whole nine yards

- But the atmosphere that you were engulfed by, the warm wave of welcoming you felt wash over you when the people present greeted you, it was too overwhelmingly calming to no suppress that other dreadful feeling of anxiety within you

- Jack’s friends proved to be as nice as you had expected - even more so!

- Of course, you’d previously met Felix, Joel and Dave countless times you considered them your friends too at this point

- But there were also five people you adored there that you were yet to meet

- Rae, Corpse, Sykkuno, Toast and Charlie

- They were your idols from the very start of this career path of yours

- They were also the main reason behind your nervousness whereas, if it had only been the other three, Jack and you, you wouldn’t have bat an eye

- Each one of them congratulated you with so much genuineness, it made you feel like getting wrapped up in the most comforting, safe and warm hug in the world, further stifling your fears and worries

- It was impossible to stay nervous around people as wholesome, kind and sweet as them

- Truth is, you aren’t such an angel either, but you played the part nicely

- You couldn’t let your horns poke through during your first official time meeting some of these people, after all

- But, as any person with siblings can confirm, all it took was one snide remark from Jack to get you to roll your eyes and sass him right back

- Now that was the real you

- And, to your surprise, someone noticed the change right away

- “That’s why I find you so entertaining, that’s why I became a fan - you’ve got a quick wit and a knack for perfect timing whether that be a joke or sarcasm. I strongly respect people like that.”

- What surprised you even more was that this came from Charlie

- He was, at the time, the one you had the least amount of admiration for out of everyone in the group

- No specific reason, you had just never been too caught up with his content

- But to hear that he was a fan of yours, it put your entire world out of balance

- And you being you, you had to even the field as to not feel like you had come off as rude later on

- “Oh, what a coincidence, I’m a fan of yours too!“

- Yeah, he still, till this day, pokes fun at you for that line and the high octave with which you said it

- It’s a golden moment, the perfect start to something even better

- At his offer/question, the two of you exchanged contact info and other social media after the stream ended and promised to talk about a collab soon

- Bad thing is, you couldn’t even focus on the excitement of the idea when you knew you were a con artist in the current scenario

- So, you did what any reasonable person would do: pulled an all-nighter watching his videos to get a clue as to what kind of content he put out and what his personality was like on camera

- Turns out, the camera probably makes no difference whatsoever, judging by his energy, he’s a crackhead 24/7

- And you were well aware you had enough of that energy for three lifetimes, but you were still willing to see it through and see where it would take you

- Well, since I’m from the future, I can tell you that it’s led you to an engagement

- Yup, almost two years following your meeting and a hundred collabs (the last of which was the proposal itself) later, you and Charlie live in a shared apartment, engaged to be married

- See what I meant when I said you count time in anniversaries now?

- There’s now two eras of your life you can clearly distinguish: medium chaos era and maximum chaos era

- The latter you’re still living out with your fiancée by your side

- If things go as planned, you’ll be living in this era till the obligatory ‘death do you part’

- Many things will change by then

- Hell, many things have already changed

- But one factor has remained a constant

- Charlie continues to watch each and every single one of your videos, giving Jack a run for his money for the position of leader of your fan club

- Speaking of Jack...

- He couldn’t be happier for the two of you, his body wouldn’t be able to contain a single ounce more of joy without combusting

- But he is quite salty about the idea of being taken down from his pedestal as your biggest fan

- Let’s be honest though, he stands no chance when compared to the man that’s head over heels in love with you and randomly tells you so in your stream chat just to make you giggle like a dummy mid-stream

- A love story of the times witnessed by thousands of people, what more can I say other than

- Beautiful

#moistcr1tikal #moistcritical #moistcr1tikal fanfic #moistcr1tikal x reader #moist critikal #moist cr1tikal x you #moist cr1tikal imagine #penguinz0 #penguinz0 x reader #penguinz0 fanfic #penguinz0 fanfiction #penguinz0 imagine #penguinz0 x you #reader #x reader #request #headcanons #moist cr1tikal headcanons #penguinz0 headcanons

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seijorhi · 4 years ago

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Unprofessional

as promised, the MSBY manager AU 💕

MSBY Black Jackals x female reader

TW non-con, smut, gang-bang, nsfw(ish)

You second guess yourself, now that the Captain’s right here in front of you, fidgeting in your seat like a little kid sent to the principal’s office.

In all fairness, you were the one to ask him to come in early, figuring that it’d be easier to say what you needed to before everyone else arrived, rather than having it eat away at you while you waited for practice to end.

Yet under the scrutiny of his dark eyes, you wonder whether you should have just let it slide. At least for a few more weeks. Taking a formal complaint to the higher ups was a step too far, and you hadn’t wanted to bother the coaches this close to the start of the season for something so… trivial. Meian seemed like the better choice. He’d listen to you and be able to help; you trust the Captain and you know the team does, too. If he told them to back off, they would, you’re almost positive. But now that he’s here, there’s this nagging feeling of-

A hand touches your shoulder, and you flinch at the sudden contact, jerking back to the present.

“Hey,” he says, a slight frown marring his features. “Whatever it is, you can talk to me - don’t think I haven’t noticed you’ve been a little out of it lately.”

There’s nothing but concern in his eyes - no judgement, or irritation, and something inside of you eases just a fraction. This is Meian, right from the moment you signed onto the team - granted, only a few months ago - he’s done his utmost to make sure you’ve felt welcomed and part of the team.

You take a breath, offering him a small, tight smile. “I-it’s um, some of the guys- well a few, I guess…” your fingers twist in your lap, and Meian squeezes your shoulder lightly in response.

“Miya hitting on you, right? Getting a little outta hand?” he surmises.

And for a split second, you’re surprised. But really maybe you shouldn’t be. Miya’s the one who’s overt about it, drawling stupid, cheesy pickup lines whenever you walk in, slinging an arm around your side and dragging you close, all the winks and the innuendos about as subtle as a tank.

Of course Meian noticed, but that’s just how Atsumu is. He doesn’t bother trying to hide it because nobody but you seems to mind. And maybe, if that’s all that it was, you’d be able to grin and bear it, but it’s not.

“Yes and… no.”

His brows draw together. “No?”

Taking another deep breath, you begin to tell him everything. Miya’s incessant flirting, all the hugs and touches that fell just the wrong side of what you considered professional. They’re a tactile team, with one notable exception, and you understand that, but the way Bokuto, Hinata and Miya feel comfortable just grabbing you and dragging you around, interrupting you in the middle of whatever task you’re doing to make you pay attention to them is a little alarming.

And then there was the incident last week, when Inunaki had caught you smiling at your phone during their cooldown and called you on it, which drew the attention of the rest of the team - only to have Bokuto snatch it out of your hands and start reading through your messages. Of course, Meian was there for that, putting a stop to it only when the wing-spiker had started reading them aloud, much to your mortification.

But he hadn’t been there two afternoons later, when an old friend of yours had swung by to pick you up and you’d had to deal with half the team glaring daggers at him over your shoulder like a pack of overprotective mother hens.

Even Sakusa, who usually kept his nose out of the others’ nonsense, stood off to the side with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, glowering at your friend until you both disappeared from sight.

The texts that blew up your phone in the hours that followed crossed so many lines, it honestly scared you a little.

Meian doesn’t say a word as you talk, the words flowing easier the more you tell him. It’s not that anything they’re doing is wrong per se. They’re not hurting you, and you think that aside from Miya, the team’s attitude is coming from a good place - some protective, irritating big brother kind of thing.

There’s nothing wrong with it, except the fact that you don’t want any part of it. You’re a professional and this is a job - a new one, an important one. If you ever want anybody to take your dreams of coaching a pro team seriously you cannot have so much as a whisper of anything less than absolute professionalism. God forbid, if rumours start spreading that you were sleeping with somebody on the team you can pretty much kiss your dreams goodbye.

At the end of it, Meian’s chin is resting on his fist, faint dissatisfaction pinching at his face, and for a moment, you’re worried that he’s about to chew you out for wasting his time - you know he’s stressed with the start of the season only days away - but he only sighs, leaning back in his seat and shaking his head.

“Thank you for telling me, I’ll talk to them.”

And it’s like this huge weight just falls off your shoulders and suddenly you can breathe easy. “Thanks, really,” you tell him, and the smile on your face is genuine this time.

“Anytime.”

—

You don’t know when he finds the time to pull them all aside, but the next morning when you walk into the gym and Bokuto catches sight of you, golden eyes widening in delight, he starts to bound towards you-

“Bokuto.”

-and stops mid-stride, face falling like a kicked puppy. His shoulders slump, glancing over his shoulder at the Captain, watching the both of you through narrowed eyes.

He doesn’t say another word to the wing-spiker, turning back around to continue his conversation with Adriah - something about tightening up their blocks before the game against the Adlers - and despite the fact you can see half the team’s attention drawn towards you both, none of them say a word either.

It’s strange, compared to the last few weeks, it’s suddenly like you’re a ghost. They thank you when you pass them their towels and bottles, and for once Hinata sits still when you help him tape up his ankle, though his eyes still follow your every movement with unnerving focus.

They’re polite and respectful, but unless you’re directly addressing them or they need something, it’s like you don’t exist.

Even Atsumu manages to keep his comments to himself when it comes time for the team to stretch out, though judging from the scowl on his face whenever he glances towards the Captain, he’s not particularly thrilled about it.

There’s one more day before game day, and they’ve got bigger things to worry about, but for you it’s like you can suddenly breathe easy. You don’t have to tiptoe around your own discomfort, you can just do your job and help them. It’s not that you hate them, not even Atsumu - though he does grate on your nerves at times - you just can’t afford to let them fuck this up for you.

They’re your team, and you’ll help them and you’ll stand on the sidelines and cheer and support them until you’re red in the face. You’ll celebrate with them and commiserate if they lose, but there has to be a line.

And maybe finally they’re realising that.

Meian sends you home while the others head off to the showers with a clap on your shoulder. “Go home. Today’s been long enough, and you need your rest. We’ve got an early start tomorrow.”

You don’t fight him on it, already feeling the exhaustion creeping through your body.

But after months in this job, it shouldn’t come as a surprise to find that by the time you’ve had a quick catch-up with the coaches about tomorrow’s training, changed and gathered up your things, you find yourself falling into step with Sakusa, freshly showered and also on his way out.

Dark eyes find yours, but he doesn’t say a word - at least until the two of you reach the big double doors at the gym’s entrance. “Do you need a lift home?”

It’s rare of him to offer, but you suppose that it’s later than you’d normally leave, the sun already disappearing beneath the horizon. Nevertheless, you shake your head, “No, it’s only a ten minute walk, I’ll be okay,” you say. And almost as an afterthought you smile and add, “Thank you, though.”

He regards you silently for a moment, but simply shrugs his shoulders, “Fine.”

Sakusa turns to leave, heading off to the carpark when a sudden thought strikes you, and before you can think better of it, you call out to him, “Your lineshots were incredible today, by the way. You played well. And please don’t forget we’ve got an early start tomorrow!”

It’s a pointless statement, on both counts. Sakusa doesn’t crave praise the way some of his teammates do, and you can imagine how little it means coming from you of all people. He’s also the most punctual, usually the first in, preferring to get stretched and warmed up before the rest of the team arrived. But the change in plans was kind of last minute and a reminder never hurts.

Sakusa pauses mid-stride, glancing back at you once more over his shoulder. “I know,” he says, and maybe it’s a trick of the light, but you swear there’s something different in his eyes as he stares back at you. Not angry per se, but… you can’t quite put a finger on it. It’s odd, you think, out of character for the usually aloof spiker. “Captain told us.”

—

It’s still dark when you arrive at the gym, and the lights are all off, not a soul in sight. That in itself doesn’t strike you as odd though, checking your phone you see that there’s still twenty or so minutes until you were all supposed to meet, but you would have thought that the coaches at least would’ve been here, or Sakusa maybe, if not Meian.

“Mornin’ princess,” a familiar voice drawls, and you jump a little at the sudden weight of his arm draping over your shoulders.

Atsumu’s smile is far too wide and upbeat considering it’s only a little after six in the morning. You’re used to a dead-stare, don’t-talk-to-me-until-I’ve-had-caffeine Atsumu, and it’s almost startling enough to make you forget the arm he has around you.

Either that, or you’re just bewildered that he’s actually arrived early for once in his life.

“You’re awfully chipper,” you mutter, trying to shove his arm off of you as you walk in tandem towards the gym. It’s a pointless endeavour - he replaces it a moment later, tugging you closer. “And early. Do you normally do this the day before the season starts, or can we expect to see you bright and early every morning for training?”

The corner of his lip quirks into a lazy smirk, and Atsumu laughs, “Nah, I’m actually late. All the others are already here.”

You’re halfway through fishing for the keys when he just pushes the door open, and you falter. “Wait- they’re here already?” you glance inside, and the lights are all still off and there’s not a soul in sight, but- “I thought Meian said we were meeting at 6:30.”

There’s something in the way that his smirk widens that’s almost unsettling, but he’s already pushing you forward, flicking on the lights as you pass.

“Oh, he did.”

Your eyebrows draw together in confusion, but it’s too early and you’re too tired to try and decipher Atsumu’s cryptic bullshit. He already has you on edge with how close he’s got you - you can feel the heat radiating from his body, the familiar scent of his cologne invading your nose. “Fine, whatever. Just- just put your stuff away, grab the others if they’re here and I’ll see you on the court in a few minutes.”

You try to shrug off his arm, but his grip only tightens, “Nope,” he says, firmly steering the both of you in the direction of the locker room.

“Miya,” you start, squeezing your eyes shut. You can already feel the beginnings of a headache taking root in your skull, but Atsumu just chuckles lightly, patting your shoulder.

“Relax, wouldja? Jeeze, yer so tense!”

With no other sound but the eerie echoing of your footsteps across the linoleum floors, his laugh is too loud, too grating. It sets you on edge, and you have to bite back a scowl of your own and remind yourself that you only have to put up with him a little longer - just until Meian gets here. Unperturbed by your silent irritation, Atsumu continues, “We know how hard you’ve been working lately. We came in early to say thank you, y’know, for everythin’ ya do for us.”

And for one split second, regret fills you, snuffing out the spark of irritation simmering through your veins. Here you are, seconds away from slapping the setter when he is - for the first time in his life - actually trying to do something nice for you. You sigh quietly, smoothing your expression over as he slows down and pulls you to a stop.

He lets you slide out from under his arm, your back to the locker room door, moving so that he’s standing directly in front of you. You open your mouth to speak, an apology on the tip of your tongue, but once again, Atsumu beats you to it. “Yer the best manager we’ve ever had.” He takes your hand in his, twining long fingers with yours and steps closer.

Too close.

“Atsu-”

“We really do care about you - love ya, even - which is why it kinda felt like a kick in the balls when the Cap came and told us ya wanted some space. Said we were bein’ too ‘overbearing’ and ‘inappropriate’, just cause we want ya nice and close.” Dark eyes harden, “It hurt us, baby. You gotta realise that.”

The grip he has on your hand is painfully tight, but you don’t have a moment to focus on that. Not as Atsumu sweeps forward to close the distance between the two of you, his lips crashing against yours. Hungry. Demanding. A tongue snaking between your lips, melding with your own.

His arm snakes behind you to open the door, and for a moment you’re stumbling backwards into the dark-

Only it’s not dark, not as the blinding fluorescent lights flicker on around you, and you’re not stumbling, not as you collide with a warm, muscular chest and strong arms find your middle to steady you.

“You took too long,” Bokuto whines, and you’re yanked from Atsumu’s hold and spun, barely having a second to register the gleaming golden eyes before he’s dragging you into a needy kiss of his own.

Dizzy, lightheaded, your heart thumping erratically, you can’t think straight as his hot, wet mouth moves against yours. Greedy fingers grope and squeeze at your body - utterly frozen in shock, pliant under his touch.

“Aw, quit yer whining, Bokkun,” the blonde growls as Bokuto finally pulls back enough to grant you a few precious gulps of air, gazing at you with a kind of love sick adoration that makes your stomach clench.

A scoff sounds behind Bokuto, “A bit rich, coming from you, Miya. The two of you just are as bad as each other.”

It’s then that you realise the three of you aren’t alone. Wide eyed, on the edge of hyperventilating, you glance over your shoulder to find two pairs of eyes watching; russet eyes blown wide, enraptured, and swirling black depths, narrowed and glaring over at the blonde.

Hinata and Sakusa.

It doesn’t feel real. Even with everything they’ve done so far, their possessive behaviour, their smothering affection - even the kisses, it feels like a fever dream.

Even as Atsumu’s fingers are tugging your jacket off and Bokuto drags you forward, you can’t bring yourself to accept it, to properly fight back against it.

(Not that it would make a difference. They’re professional athletes, and there’s four of them against one of you.)

When your eyes fill with tears, Hinata’s there to brush them away, smiling down at you as he shrugs his own shirt off. “Don’t cry, angel. We’re gonna make you feel amazing, just wait!”

His words don’t fill you with ease. They can’t, not when he has that manic excitement bleeding through his expression - the same one you know he gets when he’s lost in the game, flying across the court like the laws of physics don’t apply to him.

Hands are on you everywhere, teasing and exploring, too many to keep track of. Your clothes are pulled off, tossed aside and discarded without a second thought, and theirs follow suit. Fingers are tweaking your nipples and palming at your breasts, smoothing over the curve of your ass and trailing between your legs to play with your clit.

“So fuckin’ pretty, ain’tcha? Our pretty girl, gonna be such a good little cockwhore for us.”

There’s lips against yours, at your neck, trailing down the column of your throat with a pleased hum. And between the kisses, you think that you’re crying, pleading for them to stop and let you go, but nobody listens as you’re manhandled onto one of the benches.

Your legs refuse to obey you, trembling as you try to kick out and wriggle away, only for rough hands to find your hips and drag you back. “C’mon, baby. Be good for us, you’ve already made us wait so long.”

Somebody smacks your ass and you jolt, crying out, only for a hand to soothe over the welt, another squeezing at your hip in a mockery of reassurance. “Don’t make us have to hurt ya, sweetheart.”

It’s easier, you think, to just close your eyes tight and pray that any second now, you’ll wake up in your bed to the blaring of your alarm. But the moment they flutter shut, teeth digging into your bottom lip as fingers dig into your thighs, warm breath ghosting across your sex, a low voice whispers in your ear, “Look at me.”

And you have no choice but to obey, forcing your eyes open to find Sakusa standing to your side, stroking his cock. It’s pretty, you distantly think, and you suppose that it suits him. Well groomed, long but not terribly thick with a slight curve, flushed pink at the tip and glistening with the pre-cum beading at his slit. His other hand comes to rest on your cheek, cupping it with a gentleness that feels out of place, considering the hunger burning in the black depths of his irises.

He doesn’t say another word as he coaxes your mouth open and guides your head forward to take his cock into your mouth, but the low moan that escapes him as your lips wrap around his length makes you shiver.

Sakusa isn’t gentle as he fucks your mouth, his thumb stroking your cheek as fresh tears well, but it’s hard to focus on that alone when Hinata’s face disappears between your legs, his tongue laving at your cunt, eager for a taste of you.

It doesn’t take long for the other two to join, and you’re manoeuvred between them, forced to sit on Bokuto’s lap, his thick cock stretching you out while Hinata sits between your legs, diligently slurping at your folds, sucking at your clit, one fist wrapped around his own length, lazily pumping it. Sakusa continues to use your mouth to get himself off, uttering backhanded praise between instructions, hissing in pleasure when he hits the back of your throat and you choke around him, while Atsumu has one hand playing with your tits, the other gripping yours, forcing you to jerk him off.

It’s too much for your brain to take.

Your sobs and whimpers, already muffled thanks to the cock in your mouth, are lost to the symphony of grunts and moans, lewd squelching and the sound of skin slapping against skin. There’s too many hands touching you, too much pain fused with unwanted pleasure, overwhelming you as heat and panic and terror build up inside of you, and it feels like there’s an inferno burning beneath your skin, and you can’t breathe and you just want it all to stop, you want to wake up, and-

Suddenly, the door to the locker room snaps open, and all five of you freeze in place as the Captain stops dead in his tracks and eyes the scene before him.

There’s no possible way for Meian to misconstrue it, not with everything you told him. Not with your face flushed and teary, your eyes glazed over and all but broken from the sick, twisted debasement his teammates have subjected you to. You’re naked, your body littered in love-bites and bruises, spread out before him like a feast.

And still, your eyes meet his, silently pleading for him to say something and stop this.

Meian takes a single step forward and a muffled whine leaves your lips as the cock inside of you twitches insistently. Sakusa draws his hips back, pulling himself free from your mouth, and despite the burn in the back of your throat, you swallow and try to speak.

“Please.” It’s little more than a squeak, hoarse and choked, but it doesn’t seem to make a difference.

The Captain barely acknowledges that you’ve spoken at all, his attention fixated instead on your body; the way your pussy’s clenching around the base of Bokuto’s length, the tremor of your thighs under Hinata’s rough hands, the way your tits rise and fall with every quickened breath, your lips, swollen and beautifully fucked, glistening with spit before finally, those dark eyes meet yours once more.

And slowly, a grin breaks across his face. “You’d better hurry it up, the others aren’t too far off.”

#yandere haikyuu #yandere atsumu miya #yandere bokuto kotaro #yandere hinata shouyo #yandere sakusa kiyoomi #yandere atsumu x reader #yandere bokuto x reader #yandere hinata x reader #yandere sakusa x reader #tw non con #i honestly don't know how i feel about this one #but it's done #i hope y'all like it anyway #i'm posting it before i can overthink it

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ootahime · 3 years ago

Text

analyzing every gojohime moment in the manga 😈

this series will probably have more than one part because tumblr only lets me upload ten images per post </3

warning: there are disgustingly long paragraphs in here and delusions

chapter 32

utahime’s first introduction! akutami lets us know right off the bat that she thinks gojo is an idiot (so true).

chapter 32

i love the contrast between miwa and utahime’s reaction to gojo’s appearance.

chapter 33

NAH BC TELL ME WHY HE WENT OUT OF HIS WAY TO NOT GET HER ONE LMAOOOO!! when he traveled overseas to meet with yuta, he picked up the tribal protection charms and thought to himself, “let’s get enough for the kyoto students as a gift since i am such a great and caring teacher, after all. mmm, i should skip utahime to make her mad~” this guy puts way too much effort into getting on her nerves. his mind = utahime brainrot

chapter 33

she’s laughing at him here because he’s getting disciplined for being a lil shit. i wonder...what would he say if he saw her laughing at him like that?

chapter 33

this interaction between them is a little strange don’t you think? i feel like over the years he’s learned how to pick up her mood based on the way she’s acting towards him. you’re probably thinking, “well any person can figure out how a person’s feeling based on the way they’re talking or acting.” yes, that’s absolutely true, but it’s kind of different with this. she’s acting normal. utahime has a rather indifferent expression on her face and what she says is spoken in a calm tone, but gojo still asks her if she’s mad at him. it’s likely that he knows her well enough to be able to notice these subtle things. even if she wasn’t actually mad at him, he was being considerate for a split second, then he went and said, “of course. i didn’t do anything wrong and all.” what a guy LOLOL. to me, this implies that maybe he made her genuinely angry in the past to the point where he realized that he went too far, and thus decided to be more careful of her feelings. she has definitely gotten annoyed at him so many times after that so whenever she seems angry, he probably asks himself if he took it too far. i’m curious to see if he can pick up if she’s upset with something that’s not involving him. would he console her? how does gojo satoru console someone?

despite him always annoying her, she’s still courteous and brings him a cup of tea during their talk. she didn’t have to go out of her way to get tea for him but she did. that’s the kind of person utahime is. a kind and caring woman who would never put her students in danger. in the anime they were sitting far away and not facing each other like they’re doing in the manga. she also has her own tea cup. i think that little panel of her placing the cup down on the table and him picking it up to take a sip is a nice little detail. it just proves that her hating him most of the time isn’t actually pure hatred but annoyance because of his shenanigans and teasing.

chapter 33

i touched upon this a little bit in my previous post, but i wish to go more in depth about this panel. first of all, he ends the sentence with her name twice. two times too many, mr. gojo. i like how they can be serious with each other too LOL. i wish we got to see them talk about the traitors because they did figure it out together after all. does it always end in bickering? can they interact with each other like adults all the way through? somehow, i feel like that’s not possible when it comes to these two. furthermore, notice how gojo confides in utahime about his suspicions. from what we know, she is the first person he brought it up to. i mean, i guess he has to start investigating the schools and would need extra assistance to save time, but he could have done it himself if he really wanted to. by deciding to ask for her help we know that he thinks she’s trustworthy, smart, and strong enough to face whatever considerable risks this task may entail.

i didn’t point this out in my other posts but see how he makes a hand sign in the last panel when she throws the cup at him? gojo is manually activating his infinity. why though? about a year after the whole star plasma vessel incident happened, gojo develops the ability to keep his infinity up at all times by using the reversed curse technique to consistently heal himself to prevent exhaustion. this means that it really makes no difference whether he leaves it on or off. there are a few times where we can witness someone actually touching gojo. for example, yuuji giving him a hug. did he turn his infinity off, or was it able to deduce that yuuji was not a threat? the erasers and pencils shoko and geto threw at him during his demonstration of his new ability aren’t dangerous normally, but is it the speed that makes them dangerous? even if it did hit him, it wouldn’t hurt. how does the infinity know when to allow an incoming object to touch gojo? i believe it is up to gojo himself to let things touch him; his infinity restricts anything and anyone. some people say it could just be the fact that water is not dangerous to him, so therefore, he has to manually put his infinity up. i thought this was a reasonable explanation as to why he put up the hand sign when the tea was thrown at him, but then i realized that it couldn’t be. remember the second opening? it’s raining and everyone is carrying an umbrella, then it pans to gojo with a bouquet in his hand and rain drops slipping off his infinity. if he DID manually put his infinity up to prevent getting soaked then that implies that he chose to turn his infinity off. you can argue and say that jujutsu high is a safe place with students so there’s no need to have his infinity there, but do you remember when he stepped on the ants in front of gakuganji and yaga? the ants were perfectly fine after which insinuates that his infinity prevented his shoes from crushing the ants. he most likely had his infinity on during the baseball game even though he was in a safe environment. how does this long tangent relate back to utahime? well, it simply indicates that gojo trusts utahime so much to the point where he can be vulnerable around her. turning off his infinity symbolizes completely letting down his guard in a way.

how about what happens next? utahime throws the tea at him, he turns on his infinity to deflect it, and he responds with, “scary! hysteric women aren’t popular, you know!” why would he even say that LMAO?? utahime doesn’t even try to deny what he said either. she just hits him with the good old, “i am your senpai!” could it be that he’s trying to poke fun of her relationship status? maybe, maybe not. doesn’t he like people a lil crazy? he did say that all jujutsu sorcerers have to be a little crazy because they’re willing to put themselves in danger constantly.

chapter 0 p.1

i wonder who he’s thinking of when he said that. could it be utahime? it seems like he’s reminiscing or thinking about someone. he wears an amused expression on his face as he laughs - almost like he’s seen his fair share of how scary women can get :>>

chapter 34

the pattern behind gojo and utahime is called yagasuri “fletching,” a traditional japanese design. this design is inspired by arrow fletching. it's a lucky charm for weddings and other celebrations since it's based on the Japanese belief that an arrow shot once never comes back. brides were given kimonos with this pattern for good luck during the edo era (1603–1868) to ensure they would not have to return to their original family home. this pattern can have numerous meanings such as steadfastness or determination to achieve a goal, or a wish for the happiness of the bride. there is a belief that a bow and arrow represent the fight against evil. honestly, this meaning fits the narrative of the story. utahime and gojo are unearthing the traitors that are feeding intel to the curse users and cursed spirits. they are in the middle while the kyoto students surround them, which could mean that it’s their job as adults to protect these children from the grasps of evil slowly making itself more prominent. do you also notice that the arrows are pointed toward utahime from gojo? from all the images i’ve seen, the arrows are usually pointed downward. what could this mean? is gojo trying to protect her (in the future (?)) or does he have a big fat crush smh...

i think it’s a good time to mention utahime’s clothing. she’s wearing miko attire. miko are shrine maidens who were once thought to be shamans (you connecting the dots?). in their service to shrines, miko used to perform spirit possession and takusen (in which the possessed person acts as a "medium" (yorimashi) to communicate the divine will or message of that kami (god) or spirit; also included in the category of takusen is "dream revelation" (mukoku), in which a kami appears in a dream to communicate its will). this was back in the old days, of course. to become a miko back then (shaman), one needed to have potential. neurosis, hallucinations, odd behavior, and hysteria (HYSTERIA HELLO???) are some of the signs that a person is being called to shamanism. when a miko is communicating with a kami (god) or spirit by acting as a medium, she is in a trance-like state, and so she must learn techniques to control herself when this happens. chanting and dancing were used to accomplish this, so the girl was taught melodies and intonations that were used in songs, prayers, and magical formulas. all of this could give us insight about utahime’s technique and explains why she’s good at singing :) maybe she can’t control herself when she uses her technique which is why she isn’t shown using it because it should be used for dire situations. i imagine being possessed by a spirit or god must consume a lot of cursed energy. it makes sense that utahime and gakuganji wear traditional clothing. they’re the staff of jujutsu high’s kyoto branch. in chapter 0, kyoto is known as the sacred land of jujutsu. it’s more traditional compared to tokyo. if you want to learn more about miko, you should check out the wikipedia page!

chapter 34

i swear he tries to annoy her every chance he gets. i bet he sets a goal for himself to see how many times utahime lectures him about respecting his seniors every time he’s within the same vicinity as her. at least he called her utahime-sensei!!!

chapter 40

this isn’t even a gojohime moment tbh...i just wanted to share a pic of them sitting next to each other HEHE. why are they sitting next to each other anyway? it’s not like they have assigned seating.

----

that was so long and i apologize for the gargantuan paragraphs you guys had to read through. i’m writing this at 4 in the morning and i’m feeling borderline delirious so i apologize if there are any errors. i’ll edit this when i have time <3

the next part should come shortly.

#gojohime #gouta #gojo x utahime

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myafterlifeisbetterthenyours · 3 years ago

Note

Can you do Stolas with an imp and the imp falling for Stolas but hiding it, Stolas eventually finding out and confessing he felt the same? With Stolas being *ahem* himself per say

Stolas with Imp S/O

Youd worked all over Hell, in many occupations. From cooking to cleaning and a wide variety of maintenance.

And with your extensive experience in so many fields, it wasnt difficult to get a job serving in the prestigious Goetia Palace.

You got used to your duties quickly, thoroughly cleaning the east wing when lord Stolas walked by.

Now you'd only had a brief interaction with the owl Demon during your time at the palace, but by all rights he seemed a decent fellow, at least by Demonic Overlord standards.

However, as he passed by he was confronted by his wife. His wife, Lady Stella, went off on him, demanding to know if he'd prepared for a gathering later that day.

You knew about the gathering, and it was very clear Stolas had not prepared for it.

You watched as the owl sputtered and tripped over his words as he desperately tried to explain to his wife why he hadn't prepared for it.

You don't really know why you did it, most Imps would give an arm and a leg to see a noble being given a thrashing by there wives.

But Stolas didn't deserve such a thing, so you stepped forwards, apologising on his behalf.

Telling her you were still new to the job and he was helping you with an urgent matter and that's why he was unable to prepare for the gathering.

Stella stared at you for a long moment and just when you thought she'd say something, she smacked you clean across the face.

Between Stella's inherent strength and your small size, the smack sent you into the nearest wall.

Stella told you coldly to never distract her husband again, and NEVER address her in such an insolent manner ever again.

Stolas was indignant, yelling at her that that was completely unnecessary. Getting her to out of the room he rushed to your side, ensuring you were alright.

Asking if you were alright, you told him It hurt like Hell, but you'd gone through worse. You had a chuckle before the owl thanked you for stepping in like that, asking why you'd do such a thing.

You told him up front, he was probably the best boss you'd had and you couldn't just watch him be chewed out like that.

After that incident, you found yourself with a day off. Although it was explained by a scheduling issue, you always thought of it as a thank you, from Stolas.

After that, however, Stolas seemed to keep you close, personally asking you to attend to tasks he was unable to, and over time you grew to be his go to Imp when he needed something important done.

You quickly made yourself indispensable to the Prince, using your diverse skill set you could handle just about anything he threw your way.

You would organise his day to day, tell him when and were something important was happening, you were basically his personal assistant and as such you were basically attached at the hip, doing everything and anything to support your Prince.

You spent the majority of your waking hours with the Stolas, and much to your growing dread, you found yourself falling for the Prince.

I mean he didn't make it easy on you. The fucking owl seemed to go out of his way to be as adorable as possible, acting like a big child. And it didn't help that he was genuinely kind to you, caring for you as more than just an asset. He treated you like a respected being.

And getting such attention from a noble, was... intoxicating.

A touch, a smile. The Owls harmonious laughter at some stupid joke you made, it was borderline addictive.

But as much as you may... crave~ his attention, you could never reveal these feelings.

You may be his favourite Imp, but you were an Imp none the less. You were so far beneath him there was no chance you could even hope to gain his attention.

And as much as that tore you up inside, you accepted that. Deciding instead to channel that affection in a way that would best serve your prince.

Stolas was quite fond of you.

He was so used to people only helping him in return for something, But you were different. You served him while asking for nothing in return.

His colder, aristocratic side would say you were just doing your duty, just serving like a good little Imp should.

But he could tell. You went above and beyond serving him, helping him in every endeavour he faced.

Over time, he noticed you becoming more affectionate, being more open and light hearted, treating him more like a friend than a Prince, like everyone else did. Something the Owl found intoxicating in its own right.

Of course he had his Owlet for unconditional love and affection, but your affectionate had this strange affect on him. You were kind to him, asking nothing in return, and that made him all fuzzy inside.

But just as he came to enjoy your affection, feeling like he had something to make the cold and cut throat reality of nobility bearable, you pulled back. You became more formal, like all the others in his life that served him.

And while at first he had hoped it was just a temporary hiccup, it quickly got to a point stolas couldn't take it anymore.

The owl ended up using every trick he could think of to figure out just why you'd pulled back.

It was somewhat underhanded, but one night, after you'd said goodnight, Stolas used his Grimoire and observed your unconcious mind. But he never would have expected what he saw.

He got a full view of how you viewed him.

He didn't know if he should be flattered or shocked, as in your eyes he was on parr with a diety.

He was this being of pure mercy and kindness, so far above you, you held your feelings back because you believed there was no way you could get close to him.

Your dream slowly morphed to reveal how terrified you were of admitting it, an all consuming fear that such information would destroy the relationship you held as the most important thing in your life.

Stolas was in shock.

Afterwards he spent the whole night thinking about you.

He couldnt deny he had strong feelings towards you.

After all, you'd always gone above and beyond for him, you were his most trusted and beloved servant, and... he liked to think of you as his friend.

But now that he knew your dedication was fuelled by love, it gave him a whole new perspective to your behaviour.

The way you smiled at him.

The way you laughed at his jokes.

The way you stuck close to him, the way you got defensive on his behalf, so much so you'd started fights with other staff members whom had disrespected him.

All these actions had once seemed so innocent, seemingly coming from your deep sense of loyalty and commitment.

But now, he knew they came from a place of love and devotion.

He spent the whole night thinking it over, pacing his office, deep in thought.

But no matter how hard he thought about it, he always reached the same conclusion.

He loved you.

He knew it was crazy. After all, he had a family. He had a loving- er... Well, he had a wife.

He had a beautiful daughter, and yet here he was, having unknowingly fallen for an Imp.

He went over it a hundred times and every time he thought about it he simply couldn't deny his feelings for you.

You were kind, loving and selfless. Youd always seemed to put his needs above your own And for Stolas, whom had never know selfless love. He realised it was all hed ever wanted.

Now Stolas had to decide what to do with this information.

Unfortunately Stolas couldn't keep a secret from you to save his life, you could simply read him to well.

And it wouldn't take long for him to crack, finding it impossible to keep such a major secret from you.

He'd get you somewhere private, using the excuse of business to get you alone.

Once he was confident you wouldn't be interrupted, he'd basically pin you to a wall, the owl hesitating for a moment before telling you, he knew.

You tried to play it off, telling him you didn't know what he was talking about.

Only for Stolas to snap at you, telling you, you knew exactly what he was talking about.

He leaned in close, whispering he knew you loved him.

You tried to stay composed, but internally you were freaking. Doing your best to keep calm and play it off.

The problem was Stolas was so close, you could smell his morning coffee and he was staring right at you, not giving you any time to calm down and think of a clever excuse.

But you couldn't. You couldn't lie to his face.

So you confessed, you confessed to loving him. You confessed you loved him more than anything, more then you knew how to handle. So you hid it from him.

There was a long silence.

You expected him to drop you, throw you to the side and tell you to get out of his sight, or maybe just kill you then and there.

But he didn't, instead he... he kissed you.

He planted a deep passionate kiss right on the lips, and... and you just couldn't help but return it. You wrapped your smaller arms around his neck, giving him your all.

Breaking the kiss, Stolas cupped your cheek and you were left stunned once again, when he told you... He loved you too.

You were so happy you were almost in tears, holding Stolas so close you almost feared you'd snap him in half, the two of you sharing a moment of joy and warmth.

You pressed your forheads and for the first time in both your lives you held someone you knew loved you for you close.

You held each other close for a long while, Stolas pressing you against his chest. Leaning back, you just smiled at each other.

It was a warm little smile, a smile you gave to someone you cared for deeply.

Scratching your neck, you asked him "What comes next?"

A devious little smile crossed his lips as he stared down at you, a predatory glow to his crimson gaze.

He carried you briskly to the nearest bedroom, carrying you to the bed he dropped you, pressing you against the bed.

Sliding his hands up your shirt, he purred down at you, "After all you've done for me, I think it's only fair..." He licked his lips, "I return the favour."

He stripped you down slowly, trailing kisses across your body.

You spent the night together, wrapped in throws of passion, Stolas doing his very best to bring you as much pleasure as possible.

You went at it long into the night, you pouring all the love and affection you'd repressed for so long.

There being one particular moment where the owl lost his mind when you flipped him over, pinning him down and took control.

You went at it until you collapsed in each other's embrace.

The next morning was like a whole new reality for you two. You held each other close and just relished the new found love you had for each other.

Your relationship would continue in secret, the both of you desperate to keep this new flame alive. Your position as his right hand Imp enabling you to stay close and be with him in private without raising any suspicion.

The two of you had frequent little 'rendezvous', where ever, when ever you wanted too without much issue.

Stolas' favourite was having a quick romp in the car on the way home from a meeting.

As amazing as your romance would be, there would always be a risk hanging over, something you were always cautious of. Although your concerns were dismissed by Stolas and you really found it hard to stay focused around him.

But as perfext as your relationship was, it would all come crashing down when you were discovered by Stella.

Now Stella's reaction could vary drastically depending on the nature of there marriage.

If Stella genuinely loved Stolas, she'd likely loose her shit.

Going off on Stolas while also likely try to kill you.

The family would be divided much like with Blitzø, although this time you would actually be there to support Stolas emotionally, not to mention you'd likely have a decent chance of getting along with Octavia.

But If there union was, say, more business than personal. Well... terms could be reached.

She'd still likely freak out, but Stolas could temper her fury before it could get out of hand.

They could reach an accord, you and him could be together so long as your relationship never sees the light of day.

After that, your relationship went up a notch, Stolas not having to hold back like before, he would basically go feral with you, spending every available second wrapped in a passionate embrace with you.

#helluva boss #headcanon #helluva boss headcanon #x reader #helluva boss x reader #helluva stolas #helluva boss stolas #stolas x reader #stolas #stolas deserves some love #stolas is a big softy

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weasleylangs · 4 years ago

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secrets i have held in my heart - f.w

Pairing: Fred x Fem!Reader Summary: Everyone in the twins’ lives mix them up once in a while, except for Y/N. Fred is dying to know how. Warnings: Some angst with a happy ending, yes I wrote oblivious Fred again with miscommunication issues, what about it, some swearing, brief mention of the war but obviously this is a FredLives!AU :D, mentions of sex but nothing descriptive it’s like one line, - everyone is 18+ by the way! Word Count: 4k

A/N: For the anon who requested super secret mutual pining with some angst where the reader is the only person who can tell the twins apart! Thank you so much for requesting. This has also been cross-posted on AO3 (frederickweasleys) as per the anon’s request!

Also, I didn’t want to write about a 17 and 15 year old pining after each other, so I made everyone older and it’s postwar, however I was like 2000 words into the fic when I remembered George got his mf ear blasted off in DH so…. U do not see that it’s not canon in this fic thank you

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The sun is blaring down on The Burrow and everyone is starting to wonder the likelihood of getting heatstroke. They’re in the south-west of England and the weather doesn’t usually get above the early 20s in the middle of August, however, mother nature has decided to wreak havoc and today is almost 30°.

Y/N is looking at the pages in her book but she’s not processing anything on the pages. She’s so appreciative of the relaxing life she and all her loved ones finally have. The war ended last year, and while Y/N isn’t family, Molly and Arthur are always insistent she’s welcomed at The Burrow for their Sunday roast dinners.

So she sits under a tree, the muggle fantasy novel in hand as Molly is busy prepping dinner and her friends all play quidditch. Hermione’s been refereeing them despite having no actual knowledge of the rules, and right now, she’s waving Harry’s copy of ‘Quidditch Through The Ages’ at one of the twins trying to prove a point, fully aware she’s going to get nowhere with him. He’s laughing at her and he raises the hand holding the beater’s bat as he threatens to (softly) hit her with it when he looks over her shoulder and spots his favourite girl perched under the tree with his mum’s homemade lemonade.

Before Y/N knows it, the bat’s been thrown in her direction, barely missing her and hitting the tree behind her, and when she looks up, she immediately recognises the twin as Fred. Fred and Y/N are almost two sides of the same coin and their friendship has always been considered unlikely. Fred loves mischief and pranks and he’s extremely exuberant where Y/N is a ‘stickler for the rules’ (Fred’s words, not hers) and she’d much rather spend her day reading than playing quidditch. But their friendship blossomed and eventually for Y/N her feelings evolved into more.

But Y/N is one of Ron’s best friends, and having a crush on her best friend’s older brother is weird, even if they are 19 and 21.

“Hi Freddie,” she says, dog-earing the page and closing her novel, accepting now that Fred’s in her presence, the book isn't getting read again until tonight, “no more quidditch?”

The ginger gives her a shit-eating grin and completely ignores her question, “Darling, I’m George.”

Y/N squints at him for a brief moment, second-guessing herself but the longer she looks at him the more she’s sure it’s Fred, not George in front of her. “No, you’re Fred. I’ve known you for how long? Just accept I can tell you apart.”

Fred mutters a ‘fuck’ under his breath as he sits down. He’s always loved that Y/N is the only person who can tell them apart, his own family struggling sometimes and especially when they’re apart. But no matter what, she somehow gets it right every single time and he’s dying to know how.

“You’re never going to tell me how you do it, are you?” He questions and she replies how she always does when he asks, blaming it on intuition and that she doesn’t know how she does it. As always, he doesn’t believe her. Y/N secretly does have a way of easily telling the twins apart, not rooted in intuition in the slightest but she doesn’t want to tell him.

The truth is, the way her heart races when Fred looks or speaks to her is her way of telling them apart. Fred always has a mischievous glint in his brown eyes and the way he looks at Y/N makes her feel like she’s the only girl in the world. George is sweet, loving and exceptionally kind- he was there as a source of comfort and calmness for Y/N when the trio disappeared during their 7th year to hunt Horcruxes, when she and her family went into hiding. She loves George like she would love a brother, like how she loves Ron and Harry, but the love Y/N has for Fred is different and the catalyst for her ability to tell them apart.

“I’m going to get you one day. One day George and I will swap and you’ll get it wrong and as a reward for finally tricking the oh so wonderful Miss Y/N Y/L/N, you’ll tell me how you tell us apart.”

It’s not even an hour later when Fred and George come down wearing each other’s clothing. Y/N’s well aware Fred prefers to wear warm and bright colours while George likes to wear the dark colours in their coordinated clothing, so seeing Fred walk down the stairs in George’s purple shirt and vice versa is funny, despite the fact they’re identical twins, Y/N thinks they look ridiculous and unfamiliar.

“George put the purple back on. You look weird in orange,” she says, as she goes back to help Molly with the vegetables for dinner and soon after she speaks, she hears someone angrily kick the table. She looks up from her potatoes she’s been peeling to see an entertained George and Fred who looks like he’s going to throw a child-size tantrum.

“How!” He exclaims again, pulling the shirt up over his head, shoving it in George’s hands and stomping back upstairs to change. Y/N is about to follow him, genuine concern for Fred in tow. She knows he’s most likely just being dramatic to cause a ruckus but there’s a small part of her that considers he might be serious.

“He’s fine, Y/N,” George states, changing his shirts and throwing Fred’s orange one over the back of the chair as he sits down, “I think he’s trying to rile you up into telling him how you do it.”

She laughs at this, knowing that while she might not have told him, the look in George’s eye hints that he’s picked up on her feelings for his twin brother. But before she can say anything, Ron comes bounding down the stairs and right into the kitchen, Harry in tow. They’re both looking for food and when Ron’s hand makes his way towards the ham, Y/N smacks him.

“Don’t spoil your dinner,” she scolds which causes Harry to laugh.

“But, mum,” Ron mockingly replies, “All the quidditch got me hungry!” He might be 19 but he’s sulking like a 10-year-old boy and Y/N thinks temper tantrums might run in the Weasley family.

When Molly isn’t looking, however, Y/N sneaks him a piece of ham and Ron jumps up quickly, smacking a kiss to her cheek, “You’re the best!” he whispers as he quickly shoves the piece of ham in his mouth to not be caught by his mother.

Soon enough, everyone’s crammed into the small kitchen and Molly waves them all out except Y/N, who she insists stays. She thinks it’s because she was already helping with the vegetables but when she’s about to ask for her next task, Molly has a rare mischievous glint in her eye.

“How do you tell my sons apart?” She enquires and Y/N groans. She hasn’t been asked how she tells the twins apart this often since she was at Hogwarts and before she can speak, Molly continues, “it’s just no one can besides us, and even then, sometimes I catch myself calling George, Fred sometimes.”

Y/N sighs. She loves Molly like her own mother, but she loves to meddle like every mother.

“I just know, I wish I had some excuse like a mother’s instinct, but I just know,” Y/N pauses and thinks how to word her next statement without spilling too much for potential eavesdroppers and Extendable Ears to hear, “They have different energies. I think I pick up on it easily.”

Y/N hopes that’s enough for Molly to drop the conversation at hand and while Molly hums in agreement, she reads between the lines. She’s known for a while that Y/N carries a flame for the oldest twin, after all the way Y/N looks at Fred is the same way she looks at Arthur, so she’s hoping for the day they both stop dancing around their feelings.

She already loves Y/N like a daughter, and she’d like it to be official one day.

After dinner, the girls are all holed up in Ginny’s room. She loves staying at The Burrow. Y/N never grew up with sisters and her friendship with Hermione and Ginny are the closest she gets to them. They usually gossip, who’s dating who, who’s already getting married, sometimes it gets juicy and someone’s pregnant.

When Ginny and Harry, and Hermione and Ron finally got together, they gushed for hours about how it finally happened and how excited they all were.

Tonight, unfortunately, the topic at hand is Y/N and Fred.

“When are you going to tell him?” Ginny enquires as she smooths out her face mask. Hermione’s braiding Y/N’s hair and when she doesn’t reply, Hermione grasps some hair and gives a hard tug. Y/N yelps and while Hermione mutters an apology, she doesn’t miss the wink she gives Ginny in the mirror.

“Tell Fred what exactly?”

“About your feelings for him,” Ginny replies like it’s the most obvious thing in the world that everyone should have known. Y/N starts to stutter, trying to find words to deny her feelings but these are her two best girl friends, her sisters and she can’t lie to them no matter how much she wants to.

“Okay fine, they exist but he’s never knowing,” she states, a matter of factly as if it’s something to be proud of, “and he’s never finding out. I’m looking at you, Ginevra.” Ginny inherited her love to meddle from her mother, and if Y/N is positive about anything it’s that Ginny is going to meddle to get her best friend and brother together.

“I’m pretty sure he likes you back,” Hermione says. She prides herself on being observant but even she didn’t notice Ron’s feelings for her until he quite literally put his lips on hers.

“I’m just his little siblings’ best friend, Hermione, I doubt it,” she says as she grabs the tiny elastics to secure her hair. “Besides, I think he has a thing with one of the girls from his year at school.”

“You’re choosing now of all days to get the wrong twin? George is dating Angelina. Fred hasn’t even been seen with a girl since he slept with one of Fleur’s cousins at the wedding.” Ginny says and something about this makes Y/N blush, almost happy that Fred’s been single for as long as she has, but the jealousy is in the back of her mind.

“... Shut up,” Y/N laughs as she grabs the nearest pillow and smacks Ginny over the head with it. This causes chaos in Ginny’s tiny bedroom and soon enough all three girls are defending themselves with pillows and jumping around the bedroom.

What none of the girls knew, however, was Fred standing outside of the bedroom, eavesdropping. He’s always been curious about what the girls talk about when the boys aren’t around and Fred reckons if he doesn’t have to hear about his little siblings’ sex life, it doesn’t hurt anybody.

Except it does, and he hurts himself. He arrived just in time for Ginny to question why Y/N doesn’t admit her feelings to someone. At first, Fred was hopeful, especially when the conversation steers in the direction of her liking one of the twins. After all, Bill’s married, Percy’s… Well, he’s Percy and Charlie isn’t in England enough for him to believe Y/N was able to develop feelings for him.

So that leaves himself and George from context clues. He’s always had a crush on her ever since they were in school, but he was always worried about coming off as creepy, pining after someone two years below him.

But then Y/N says ‘I think he has a thing with one of the girls from his year at school’ and he walks off before he even hears the rest of the conversation, hearing the apparent confirmation of Y/N’s feelings for George.

The summer is still sweltering hot when she decides to visit Diagon Alley three days later. She’s shopping for her nephew when she ends up in Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. Fred was unusually quiet when she said goodbye to him on Monday morning before she floo’d away to her job at the Ministry and she’s hoping to catch him at the shop during quiet hour.

When she walks in, she’s met with a bell ringing and the voice that calls out ‘Hi, how are you today!’ doesn’t make her heart race so she immediately knows she’s caught the wrong twin at the counter.

“Hey, Georgie!” She makes her way over to the counter. It’s a Wednesday morning, so the shop has a lull in customers and he’s doing what Y/N assumes is a stock take of whizbangs. He gives her a nice smile as she potters her way over to him. She stops in front of the love potions, smelling the familiar scent of cinnamon, fireworks and something that can only be described as happiness in the small bottles. She’s so entranced for a moment that she doesn’t even notice George make his way up next to her.

“You don’t need one of these, by the way,” He whispers as he winks, looking behind him and seeing Fred standing on top of the spiral staircase not looking the happiest.

“You’re the second person to tell me that this week,” she mutters, quickly putting the love potion vial down, “I don’t know what any of you mean.”

George chuckles at her obliviousness. It’s been obvious since they were teenagers about the feelings both Fred and Y/N harbour for each other but he can’t help but admit it’s just the tiniest bit funny. Like it’s a joke they’re all in on except the oblivious couple themselves.

“It’s because we’re more observant than you, darling,” George says, absent-mindedly fixing the display so it looks presentable. Y/N’s about to question him when someone clears their throat behind them- an elderly gentleman shopping for some grandkids when George excuses himself with the promise ‘this isn’t over’.

Fred watched the interaction from the staircase and while he didn��t hear anything, he feels like he’s gotten punched in the stomach. He knows he’s never directly told George about his feelings for Y/N, and George is dating Angelina anyway and he’d never betray her, but he can’t ignore the slight feeling of upset he feels when he sees them interact.

“I think Y/N likes you,” Fred says nonchalantly and George almost chokes on his tea. It takes him a moment to fix his breathing before he looks at Fred like he’s got three heads.

“No, she doesn’t?” George questions, like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world and that upsets Fred slightly. He’s not upset at George, he never has and he never will be upset with George, but it seems like his comment was brushed off without any deeper consideration.

“No, I think she does,” Fred says, twiddling his quill between his fingers as he stares at the tax invoice in front of him. Wednesday night is budget night and Fred knows he’s not going to get any work done if his mind is stuck on Y/N and her feelings for George.

“No, mate, she doesn’t,” George huffs and Fred notices the eye roll George gives him. George only ever gives him eye rolls when he’s being oblivious. Like when Fred spent 20 minutes looking for his wand last week only to find it in his pocket.

Fred’s convinced George is just being oblivious, blinded by his new relationship with Angelina that he hasn’t noticed Y/N’s feelings for him. “Do you wonder how she can tell us apart?”

George huffs in annoyance as a reply and Fred pouts as he attempts to go back to his taxes. He’s reread the same line three times when George finally speaks.

“I think it’s got something to do with her feelings for us. She feels differently about one twin.” George is intentionally being coy, hoping to Godric that Fred caught the pointed stare and the emphasis but Fred wasn’t looking and the longer he dwells on what George has said the more he’s convinced he doesn’t have a chance with Y/N at all.

It’s the weekly Sunday roast again and Fred isn’t expecting to floo into The Burrow and be met almost face to face with Y/N. He’s planned on ignoring her today, purposely volunteering to do any work needed at the shop while George floo’s to The Burrow early in the afternoon.

It teeters on 5 pm when Fred finally arrives and he’s quickly engulfed in a hug by his mother with his father behind him telling him to stop working on Sundays as ‘Sundays are for family’. With a kiss to his mum’s forehead and a promise to his dad that he’ll force George into doing the Sunday work next week, who throws a piece of stale bread at Fred’s head while exclaiming ‘you offered!’ he quickly makes his way away from Y/N.

Molly’s quick to serve up dinner now Fred’s here, complaining he’s starving already. He quickly steals the seat next to Ron and pulls George down next to him- not wanting to allow Y/N to sit either side of him. Usually, she sits between Ron and Fred and when she turns the corner and the only available seat is the furthest from Fred, her heat sinks a little.

Dinner is pleasant, it always is at The Burrow. Hermione and Y/N talk about the ministry while Ginny tells stories of her Holyhead Harpies tryouts she had during the week. Y/N might let slip she works with the coach’s sister-in-law and overheard some high praise for a certain Miss. Weasley and Ginny’s eyes fill with tears when she hears this.

There’s a quick lull in conversation as Molly waves her wand and the now empty plates make their way into the kitchen, children following behind them ready to help wash up but Fred makes his way outside. He likes to watch the sunset, the sun slowly dipping behind the hills where he learnt how to play quidditch as a kid as the sun becomes shades of orange.

He’s sitting under the tree when Y/N follows him out. She’s shouting his name trying to find him. He slipped out without anyone noticing and that’s unusual for Fred so something is wrong. When she spots him, she starts jogging over and she can’t tell if he’s ignoring her or can’t hear her calling his name, so she tries something.

“George?”

Fred turns, a smirk subconsciously forming on his lips and Y/N finally feels seen by him in a week. “It took me calling you your brother’s name to get your attention?” She asks, kicking sticks out of the way before she takes a seat next to him.

“No, love. Just shocked you finally got us mixed up,” he replies, shoving her a little with his elbow. He knows she only did it to get his attention, but he’s Fred Weasley and he’s going to use this to his advantage. “I believe I told you when you get us mixed up, you’re legally required to tell me how you do it. I’m all ears.” He wiggles his eyebrows but deep down, he’s scared George’s assumption is right.

She rolls her eyes, but the love she has for this boy in her heart can’t be kept a secret anymore. This week she’s felt like he’s been ignoring her and while she and Fred are no means ‘best friends’, not like she is with the others, she’s felt a little piece of her universe missing knowing he’s been upset.

“You and George, I… I feel different about you to how I feel about George,” she starts and Fred’s breath hitches. He doesn’t know if he’s going to storm off or throw up so he just sits and stares at a rock. “George makes me feel comfortable. He’s always willing to talk to me about anything, feeds into the fact I can speak for hours on end about any topic if you let me,” she laughs and her nervousness is in her throat. She notices Fred isn’t looking at her and it’s making her want to run away.

“But you, you feel like home, Freddie. The way my heart races when I hear you speak or when you look at me. It’s the biggest indicator of how I tell you guys apart. George and you may be identical but the way you both make me feel is so different.” She’s whispering now and she’s realised Fred is looking at her so intently that the Earth might open up and swallow her whole.

“Like, home?”

She smiles softly and takes his big hand that’s been messing with rocks into her small ones. “Like I can tell you anything and you’ll never judge me. I could be having the worst day of my life and one joke from you can make me smile even if I’ve been crying for hours.” Her thumb starts to rub along the top of his hand and the way he shivers doesn’t miss her.

“I’m trying to say, in a round-about kind of way, that I’m in love with you, Freddie,” her voice is shaky but there’s no backing out now. “I’m in love with you and this past week where it’s felt like you’re mad at me has me so confused because I don’t know what I did.”

Fred feels incredibly guilty now, he was so caught up in his own feelings that he didn’t stop to think how his actions would affect Y/N. “I thought you liked George,” he whispers, and he feels his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. “I thought you liked George and not me and I didn’t want to be near you knowing that.”

She giggles and drops his hands to run her fingers through his hair. It’s still short but she thinks she can convince him to grow it out again. “Me? George? Not even for a second.”

“Why not?” The joking in Fred’s voice is there but so is the genuine curiosity.

“I don’t know. It’s just always been you, ever since I was 11 and you were bullying Ron into performing a spell to turn Scabbers yellow.” She laughs at the memory, watching scrawny Fred bully his small brother on the train platform.

Fred looks down at her, her hands now playing at the hair at the back of his neck and he feels goosebumps rise across his skin. He wants nothing more to lean down and press a kiss to her lips and when he realises he never actually admitted his feelings to Y/N back, he starts to lean down, hoping to convey everything he feels for her through a kiss.

She’s quick to catch on and she leans up so quickly they almost bump noses. It’s messy, like most first kisses are, especially in an awkward sitting down position but the love they have for each other is there and obvious. They pull away when they’re barely kissing anymore, just smiling and laughing into each other’s mouths.

“Does this mean we’re dating now?” Fred asks. It’s a dumb question, they both know it but when Y/N pretends to think he stands up and hauls her over his shoulders and starts swinging her around. The giggles that erupt from her make Fred’s heart swell and he’s about to put her down just to get down on one knee himself and propose right then and there.

“Yes, Freddie, if you want me to be your girlfriend then I’m yours.” Y/N replies and Fred smiles, he loves that. Not Y/N being his, he could never believe she’s an object, but she loves him and he loves her and now he understands why George was rolling his eyes at him.

“As long as you don’t get George and I mixed up in bed, I’m all yours.” He says it jokingly, but the smack he receives from Y/N is no joke and when he starts swinging her around again, he’ll forever make dumb jokes like this if he gets to hear her laugh like that for the rest of his days.

#fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley

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lovebecomeshim · 3 years ago

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hello! your zutara posting today has finally motivated me to ask this question because I came to atla very late(last year, to be specific) and I Love It Very Much but am 1000% out of the loop as far as why what remains of fandom (at least that I've seen among my friends) is so very strongly zutara. I'm not opposed to it per se I just don't really know what has driven it to apparently be such a popular ship? can you help me understand and maybe convert me a little bit?

Hey!! Your ICON! :D I can try but I’m not sure how coherent I’ll be; however I AM sure someone a lot more competent will be willing to add to this. Either way, I’m glad you asked because my plan was to drag down as many people as possible with me.

*smacks the hood of zutara* this baby can fit so much mutual love and support!

This got so long, I’m so sorry. I don’t know how to put it under a cut on mobile and it already got deleted once so I’m scared to mess with it lol. Moving on.

I’m gonna start this with a disclaimer that im on mobile so formatting is tricky and I’m also really new to atla in that I only completed my first watch through in like 2019??? So some of my info is all just based on what I’ve picked up from Discourse 👀 so anyway the sparknotes version: zutara was wildly popular from the beginning. To the point where the atla crew internally disagreed on which ship should be endgame. (Ex. Bryke [showrunners] asked the writers to rewrite The Southern Raiders to make Zuko seem less ideal for Katara than Aang [which failed, depending on who you ask]; the animation team purposefully created a visual parrallel between Oma and Shu in the Cave of Two Lovers and Zuko and Katara in the catacombs under Ba Sing Se in the Crossroads of Destiny; etc.)

The ship was popular enough that Bryke actually chose to display zk fanart at a con for the sole purpose of mocking the fans, but that’s neither here nor there. The entire episode Ember Island Players, while a love letter to/parody of the whole show, was an opportunity to address zutara’s viability as a canon pairing (while, again, mocking zutaras for romanticizing that catacombs scene). Point is! It’s always been popular but with it not being endgame, there’s got to be something that’s given it staying power.

And that’s honestly got to do with three things: their dynamic, thematic cohesion, and potential.

(You know what... you know what, it’s four things. The fourth is they’re so aesthetically pleasing together and individually. Like, they’re just good looking people [specifically when they’re grown but they’re also cute kids] and that absolutely doesn’t hurt) (but it’s not the Point, it’s just nice to point out sometimes)

The dynamic is hard to get into without also looking at the canon pairings, but I think I can do that without unnecessary bashing. It’s just that part of the magic of zutara is really highlighted by what they give to each other that their other relationships don’t.

First off, it’s classic enemies to (would be) lovers. The absolute truest form of it. It’s not too different from how CS started out: a rogue antagonist with a job to do—but no personal vendetta against the future love interest—who is deeply and emotionally invested in his personal storyline (revenge/redemption) with little regard for how it effects other people after his entire life and genuine good nature are marred by suffering, and a fierce warrior girl with a strong moral compass and her own personal investment in stopping him (protect her family and save the world doing it). Obviously frustration and animosity grew between them by the nature of them being on opposing sides, but that just lends itself to the sweetness of their later reconciliation.

The thing is that while they’re wildly different on the surface (he’s a hot-headed prince of a fascist regime who is trying to capture the Avatar to please his father; she’s a nurturing daughter of the chief who is trying to protect and train the Avatar in order to topple his father’s throne) they find out that they have so much more in common both in their experiences and their personalities.

(What follows is an excessive use of the word “both” and I’m sorry about that)(I can edit it. I can do that. That IS an option............)

They both have an innate sense of justice that they are determined to see done (zuko, at the war meeting, sticking up for the Earth Kingdom kid when the guards torment his family, choosing not to steal from the pregnant couple despite his circumstances, abiding by his word to leave the SWT should Aang come willingly, etc.; katara, literally.... at any point). They both have pretty one-track minds at accomplishing certain goals once they’ve put their mind to it, regardless of a lack of support in that endeavor (it goes without saying I guess, but zuko’s entire hunt; katara’s determination to get the earth benders to fight back, her determination to absolutely destroy Pakku until he agrees to teach her, etc.). They both lost their mothers at young ages. Their worlds are war-torn and traumatizing to them both, if in different ways, but that ultimately forces them to grow up too quickly to be wholly independent individuals. They both have issues with their fathers (for WILDLY different reasons, but). They both hold extreme prejudices that they need to learn to overcome (which ties into thematic cohesion)(bit like Lizzie and Darcy in that way but magnified by a million). They’re both extremely emotional and empathetic—which can and often does result in loud outbursts. Katara’s a bit better adjusted and can temper her anger for longer than S1 Zuko can, but they both feel that anger deeply and have no compunctions expressing it (Katara is, usually, more justified, particularly in S1. Again, S1 Zuko is severely maladjusted but at the point when they could’ve feasibly become a couple, he’s so much better off with the way he carries himself). They both struggle with feelings of inferiority in their bending abilities when confronted with prodigal benders like Aang and Azula, but have the work ethic required to double down and become two of the most powerful benders in the three remaining nations. This is a little more minor but it is a parrallel that appeals to some shippers that they both have these alter egos in the Painted Lady (notably fire nation coded) and the Blue Spirit (water tribe coded) that are pretty different from who they are day-to-day and are useful in accomplishing a purpose that they as themselves cannot.

(I’m.... I just realized that this could potentially get very long. Should I have made a slide show with bullet points??????)

Anyway, similar. I know there’s more but there’s literally so much to love about zutara that I’ll drive myself a little crazy trying to compile all the ways they’re similar. (Just gonna say that at this exact moment I went back to add more similarities.... so okay then)

Once they’ve reconciled, we see how all of these things only lend themselves to a deeper intimacy together than they share with literally anyone else. There’s a steady partnership that positions them as the mom/dad of the gaang, while also providing the support necessary to allow the other to not have to carry so much responsibility. A lot of zutaras will point out how zuko is actually depicted doing the more domestic chores that are normally relegated to Katara once he joins the gaang, since the others in the group are two 12-year-olds and sokka. The one that sticks out the most is how he makes tea for the group and then serves them, while Katara is able to just relax with her friends around the fire. Fanon expands upon this a lot to Zuko helping with the laundry or the cooking or whatever else needs doing since he, as a once-refugee, is used to doing his own domestic tasks. Before Zuko joined, Katara was the one mothering everyone, sewing for them, cooking for them, etc. She’s always tending to the needs of the group, and that includes emotionally. She does the emotional labor for the gaang 99% of the time, but when she’s the one falling apart, she’s usually doing it alone and without the comfort that she normally provides for others. Until Zuko. And that’s before they’re even friends.

Which is WHY people romanticize the catacombs of Ba Sing Se so much. Katara is verbally attacking Zuko out of her own righteous anger but also her own prejudice when Zuko, surprisingly, chooses to be vulnerable with her. He’s been on a journey that’s opened his eyes a bit, but he’s never actively chosen to expose the rawest parts of his past to anyone. But for some reason he chooses to do that with Katara of all people. While she’s yelling at him. He sees her humanity, and for once can look past his prejudice and empathize with her. And this time, when she breaks down, she gets to be comforted. Katara normally talks about her mother when she’s trying to explain to someone else that she sees and understands they’re pain, as a form of comfort to them. Here, Zuko uses the exact same tactic. He sees her and he understands. And for zuko? He’s not being shut down. He’s allowed to articulate his pain regarding his mother without being ignored and made to internalize it, and he’s allowed to process how he feels about his scar out loud without being told that he deserved it. And then he lets her touch his scar, something we’ve seen him actively avoid before. He’s completely open to her and she’s completely open to him and all it took was one five minute conversation. She was about to use the little bit of Spirit water that she had, that she was saving for something Important, to heal the scar that still daily causes him pain just because they had, somehow, connected.

Plus there’s the whole parallel to the star-crossed lovers forbidden from one another, a war divides their people—

And then zuko messes up, he regresses, he gets what he wants and he HATES it. And the sense of justice he had as a child has been restored to him against his will and he can’t think of anything he wants to do more than the Right Thing, so he joins team avatar. Before he does that though, we get to see his relationship with Mai, which is where comparison really comes in. And what we see is Zuko, fresh off of his encounter with Katara in the catacombs, trying to be emotionally honest with Mai... and getting shut down and dismissed. Which is just how Mai is and it’s fine, but not for Zuko. Still, he keeps trying, and he keeps getting ignored or scoffed at or yelled at. Which is really a larger symbol for how he doesn’t fit in his old life anymore, but again that’s about thematic cohesion. He tries to articulate his anxieties about returning home, he tries to make romantic gestures, he tries to explain how morally conflicted he’s feeling—and Mai diverts to some kind of physical affection to shut him up and a parting comment that is pretty much always, in essence, “I don’t wanna talk about this.” So they don’t. On the other hand, once zuko and Katara are friends, we see him again emotionally distraught and caught up in his anxieties about facing Iroh, and it’s Katara who comes to him and listens to him and comforts and encourages him.

Similarly, we have Aang clamming up and getting uncomfortable whenever Katara shows any negative emotion, usually resulting in him making excuses or running away. Or, in the case of the Southern Raiders, lecturing her on how she needs to just let go of her anger about her mother’s murder. People have talked this episode to death and usually better than I ever could, so imma... keep it brief. There’s a serious disconnect between Aang and Katara in his ability to empathize with Katara and her needs that has her tamping down her vulnerability and amping up her anger. He tells her that he was able to forgive his people’s genocide and appa’s kidnapping (petnapping? Theft??), which is blatantly not true but also not an entirely equal parrallel to Katara’s situation, and continues making these little remarks throughout the episode. But it’s Zuko that Katara opens up to. It’s with him that she’s able to talk about the most traumatic day of her life, and it’s with him that she’s able to get the closure she needs, cementing their bond as friends and partners. This disagreement between Aang and Katara is then... never resolved. They just never bring it up and hear what the other is saying.

There’s a fic called The Portraits of Ember Island that has a line that so completely sums up the heart of the matter for why people love their dynamic. For context, zuko has woken up early to help Katara with the cooking and they spend the whole time just letting one another talk, and zuko stops to ask why she always just lets him talk. And so she stops to ask why he’s always helping, and it goes as follows:

There’s just... so much mutual support! Trust! Intimacy!! And it just continues like that from the Southern Raiders on, listening to each other, advising each other, watching each other’s backs! And then! Literally saving each other’s lives!! I will never be over the last Agni kai. Not ever. Zuko may have been willing to jump in front of lightning for anyone, but he actually did it for Katara. And in a show, that’s the thing that really matters. It’s a fulfilled trope usually exclusively applied to romantic pairings, and it ended up applying to Zuko and Katara. And then she ran out into the middle of a fight with tunnel vision just to get to him.

Also!! Also Zuko pushing Katara out of the way of the falling rocks at the Western Air Temple!! And Katara catching him as he fell from the war balloon that he fought Azula on!! Before they’re even getting along, they’re the ones reaching for each other. They come to this place of equal ground, as partners, who watch each other’s backs, call each other out but still listen attentively and understand, and provide the support that the other has been sorely lacking up until they knew each other (whether that be from lack of effort or lack of understanding from others, or an unwillingness to accept it for themselves).

Then, trailing along under the surface of this, we see the themes of the show totally embodied by Zuko and Katara as individuals and in their relationship to one another. There’s a YouTuber, sneezyreviews, who has a, like, 2-hour explanation on why she not only loves zutara but also believes that their endgame would’ve actually elevated the writing of atla to new levels particularly because of thematic cohesion and resolved character arcs. It’s the zutara dissertation I never knew I needed, and it’s funny and eloquent and effective, so I’m just going to sum up her section on thematic cohesion to the best of my abilities and then link it for whenever you have the time. And I HIGHLY recommend it, especially if you want a full understanding of what makes zutara so great and gives it such longevity.

Guru pathik has a line that goes something like this: separation is an illusion; things that seem different are just two parts of the same whole. Iroh also tells Zuko something similar: balance and strength are achieved when the different nations come together and influence one another and celebrate what makes them each unique. And this lesson is a massive central arc that both Zuko and Katara go through, moving past a black-and-white, good guys-vs-bad guys, us-vs-them mentality and into a greyer, more nuanced view of the world. Zuko sees the fire nation from an entirely new perspective and while he still loves and hopes for his nations future, he surrenders his blind loyalty to them in exchange for an unflinching loyalty to peace and love. Katara too had to come to terms with the fact that cruel people exist in the earth kingdom and water tribes, while some fire nation citizens are just regular, kind people who also need and deserve to have someone speak on their behalf. And this is honed in directly on how they view each other. They grow in their individual journeys to be open to the humanity in the other and then, once they’ve found that, they’re able to grow more in compassion for others in a beautiful feedback loop. And this is all matched in the symbolism repeatedly and intentionally associated with them in canon: sun and moon, fire and water, yin and yang, Oma and Shu who found love despite their warring nations. Their individual arcs are completed in each other and complement the themes of atla beautifully.

The canon pairs... just don’t. Which, again, is fine. But the very things that give atla longevity and popularity are anchored in zutara. Kat@ang doesn’t accomplish this. They’re... nice. Sweet. Especially when you erase a good portion of their interactions in S3. It could’ve been just a sweet love story. (Personally, the dynamic between toph and aang accomplish the same thing that zutara does, with complementary personalities that fulfill the theme of opposites blending in harmony) M@iko, on the other hand, is less sweet but I think wasn’t even supposed to last. Zuko’s relationship with Mai seems to represent his relationship with his old life as a whole. He can’t be emotionally vulnerable, he’s goaded into abusing his privileges, his agency and opinions aren’t respected. They just don’t have common ground with which to discuss anything that matters, so they don’t. As far as themes, the relationship doesn’t fit with atla. It’s zuko returning to and sticking with what is (on the surface) like him, what’s expected. Fire nation with fire nation. Fluid water bender with the flexible air bender. Like with like, separated from what is different and challenging and complementary.

And all of these things combined of course lead to the potential for the ship. I don’t know how familiar you are with the post-atla canon but... well, miss “I will never turn my back on people who need me”, miss “I don’t want to heal! I want to fight!” ends up living quietly in the SWT as a designated healer who turns a blind eye to the water tribe civil war happening right outside her front door. Which can be fine! People change! Some people just wanna stay inside. I just wanna stay inside! But the potential future for zutara is so much more satisfying, with Katara becoming the most unconventional Fire Lady the uppity old cads who are stuck on the old ways have ever seen. Fanon has her serving as a voice for the other nations within a kingdom at the point of its biggest political upheaval, as a confidante to Zuko who can actually help him while he’s trying to figure out how to move forward and make reparations. They have the opportunity, together, to accomplish what they both have set on their hearts to fight for: positive change that lends itself to harmony and balance. And the steambabies! A popular headcanon is that their firstborn daughter, the crown princess, is actually a waterbender, which causes such an uproar among the people who are adamantly clinging to the old ways. It’s just a future full of potential to be forces for good together, full of trust, intimacy, joy. The exact era of peace and love and balance that zuko announces that he intends to ring in with the start of his reign as Fire Lord is, again, magnified by the very personal zutara relationship. And we love to see it.

tl;dr zutara isn’t for everyone. Some people just don’t vibe with it. Some are nostalgic. Some love the canon they grew up with. Some have been disappointed for years. Some just see themselves in other characters and want their happiness instead. Whatever the reason, that’s fine. But for me, I love the way these two, from the moment they give each other a fair chance, are able to lower their walls and prejudices to see the other for the kindred spirits they are. They see each other’s humanity, and their response is to pour out love and support and compassion. I love that they’re a power couple in battle. I love the symbolism and, honestly, soulmatism that colors their every interaction. I love that they embody the whole storyline of atla in their relationship and how it develops, which is notably why their seasonal arcs always culminate in each finale with how they relate to one another. I love that zuko adopting a waterbending move is what actually saves his life and then katara’s. I love the chemistry! And I love the future they could’ve had, instead of the ones they were given.

So, in conclusion: I just think they’re neat and I hope you do too, at least a little bit. Even if it’s just respectfully from a disinterested distance cause you do you. And now here is the video I mentioned. I’m sorry this post got so long and then I gave you an even longer homework assignment, but I can’t recommend it enough. She says it all better than I can.

youtube

#zutara #atla #zutara rant #like really the way the canon relationships were written throughout s3 #it would’ve been more believable for zutara to happen #or at least be hinted at #all of the major issues presented in those relationship were dug up extensively and then... never resolved #and then they just slapped some kisses on a screen and said ‘there all better’#and we just kinda had to say ‘oh ok guess it’s all better then’#this got long I’m sorry #I wrote it all out and then tumblr ate 2/3 of it #which is why it took so long #and what I’ve written now doesn’t even match what I had before #because there’s too much to say about why I love zutara #and the stuff I left out the first time is what came out this time #rip to my original thoughts but this post is different #anyway that’s why this took so long #and I should’ve just made a PowerPoint...#I can do that too if you’d rather not read all of this lol #I won’t be offended #this is incoherent #Alia rambles uselessly #also hoping this doesn’t end up in any wrong tags because I don’t wanna step on toes lol #it’s not anti!! it’s just critical #in a compare/contrast way #I can pinpoint the moment when I started trying to rewrite my points from memory #because everything gets shorter and more succinct #like... I really said all that??? sounds fake and I don’t remember it anyway so here’s the condensed version #with no!! smooth!!! transitions!!!!#also why am I so lazy with proper grammar over text

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stovetuna · 3 years ago

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Oh! Oh! Your Tony-finally-accepts-Steve-Loves-him fic was so lovely. A+ 🥺

And the reverse-ish! The first time Steve realizes Tony doesn’t actually believe him when he says I love you and how Steve both reacts and comes to term with the situation (does he plan on talking about it? Love offensive with super romantic dates? Figure out that the solution to this problem a marathon not a sprint?)

aaaaaahhh I am gonna EXPIRE

can you imagine?? the moment I think about it my heart absolutely BREAKS in the best, most bittersweet way, because oh, Steve. you really thought the moment you kissed Tony the first time—you were sitting next to him on the living room sofa, a whole empty seat on either side of you because you were so unnecessarily close together, but then you were struck by the thought not close enough, and you were in the middle of listening to and watching Tony watch the Lost in Space reboot (so many science critiques you didn't understand a lick of but you are more than happy to play audience to the things Tony cares about, loudly) when you leaned forward and placed a lingering kiss on the corner of Tony's motormouth, which apparently was all the invitation Tony needed to crawl into your lap and press his warm, warm, warm lips to yours and kiss the breath out of you—he understood.

because it was so easy to go from best friends to romantic partners, and you had years of friendship between you to hearken back to. Plenty of moments when you thought you'd made it clear to Tony that you loved him, that you cared about him, that you admired and respected and yes, deep down (not that deep, really) were very much attracted to him.

you thought.

so when you kiss the first time, you think he knows. when you go on your first real date and play footsie all night under the table and hold hands the whole walk home, you think he knows. when, a few days later, he slides inside you, deep and hard and wet, and butterfly-kisses the tears from your eyes and tells you how beautiful you are as he fucks you, wailing, into the mattress, you know, down to your soul, to the basest atoms of your existence, that Tony loves you as much as you love him.

but something isn't right, because even as weeks, months go by, and you move into Tony's suite and fall asleep wrapped around him almost every night (except those when he's in another country, and the bed is almost as cold as the ice, or when he's consumed by some project in the workshop and loses track of time), and you tell each other "I love you" out loud multiple times, and say it without words in a million other ways, you get the feeling that Tony. doesn't. believe you?

you're baffled. genuinely, it doesn't make sense. you've loved each other for years. even when you fought, bloody and fierce and deeply, horrifically wrong, you loved each other. it wouldn't have hurt nearly as much—felt like a piece of you being ripped away, phantom pain aging you inwardly until every step in any direction that wasn't toward Tony was agony—if you didn't.

but even though Tony says it back, and he does, every time, even when you're yelling at each other after a battle goes "tits-up," thank you, Logan, he has this look in his eyes, and the only word you've been able to put to it is doubt.

at first you think it means Tony doubts you—your feelings, your intentions, yourself and all the baggage that entails—but that thought quickly passes. because you know he doesn't. you know, from experience, that Tony's worst thoughts and feelings very rarely have anything to do with anyone other than himself. which means Tony doubts himself. maybe even reality. not in a "you might be a Skrull" kind of way, but in a "this is too good to be true" kind of way.

and doesn't that just break your fucking heart.

for months you watch this doubt flicker like a guttering little flame in Tony's bright blue eyes, every time you say "I love you, Tony" with your voice. it's never there when you're brushing your teeth next to other in the morning, bumping hips and giggling like the children you never got to be; it's not there when you silently hand him his coffee and kiss him on the temple on his way out the door to a morning meeting, grousing on the phone even as he blows a kiss to you before the elevator doors close; it's not there when you sit down next to him after a battle, on the steps of some middle-of-nowhere courthouse that just got blown up by some no-name villain, taking unspeakable comfort in the radiating heat coming off the armor that kept Tony safe in combat, and without having to ask or say anything at all Tony takes the helmet off and you lean your foreheads together and just breathe each other's air, too relieved and too exhausted to kiss; it's not there when you make love to him, slowly, excruciatingly sweet, your hips rolling in a steady, undulating wave between Tony's long, golden thighs, his arms loose around your neck, his gorgeous voice gone raspy and quiet from screaming through two orgasms already, and you tell him to look at you as you come together one last time.

it's only when you say it. put words to it. make it real. that's when that banked ember of doubt flickers to life, and it feels like you have to start all over again. which isn't a hardship, per se. not at all, really. it's an honor and a privilege and an absolute pleasure to be a part of Tony's life like this. it's also frustrating, and infuriating, and dangerous, but that was always the case. the only difference is now, you can have make-up sex.

you fight about it first. it starts out in earnest, a forthright—if frighteningly vulnerable—conversation over dinner that turns into a shouting match to rival anything from the war that of course gets cut short by the Avengers alarm going off and having to Assemble before you can clear the air. he almost dies in the battle, short-circuited by an exceptionally advanced EMP that takes out the RT (and whoo, boy does that make you spiral, thinking back, to the moment you did that to Tony, almost killed him, and thinking those thoughts while you keep vigil at his bedside for days makes you wish harder than you ever have before in your life that you could drink yourself to death), and you're too relieved when he opens his eyes and the first word out of his mouth is your name, like he's the one who should be relieved, to bring it up again.

you love him. he loves you. it works. better than that, it's good. and eventually—quickly, even—you learn. you learn tell him in every which way you can think of, without words, how much you love him, and why. you text him pictures from your runs through Central Park (he makes the photo you sent him that spring, of the adolescent raccoon emerging from a hollowed-out tree, his lock screen for a week before he changes it back to a picture of you in bed drooling onto your pillow). you help him take off the armor when he's dead on his feet. you feed him. you train with him. you listen to him ramble on about bad movie science and cheer when Matt Damon mentions him in that Mars movie. (You literally cry laughing when Tony picks up the phone at the end of the movie and calls Matt Damon and tells him to text him next time, "I'll come pick you up, just stop getting lost in fucking space, asshole!")

you kiss his scarred fingers, with their fresh cuts and scrapes and bruises from working in the shop, with a reverence. you draw baths for him and don't join, even though it's one of your favorite things to do in the world, because you can just tell Tony is going through something and he needs the space to work it out for himself. you're always there to fish him out when the water gets cold, and by that time Tony's ready to tell you about whatever's eating him.

you call him every foul, dirty name in the book when you fuck him loudly against the wall and sob yourself hoarse when he makes love to you for what feels like hours, so slow and deep and steady you honestly lose track of how many times you come. you clean him up after and tuck him in. you kiss him on the forehead before you go on your morning run, every morning without fail (except for those when you're apart, and you still, even after almost two years, catch yourself mid-motion sometimes, about to kiss empty air—you text Tony about it and he laughs every time).

you learn to be patient. you learn to show more than you tell. because you realize that Tony was lied to his entire life, about so many things. Lied to his face about who he was, who he was going to be, who he never would be allowed to be. Told over and over again by liars and cheats and villains and friends and lovers and family that he wasn't worth the effort of loving. that he would never be loved for anything other than the black credit card in his wallet, the cars in his garage, the houses and the private jets and the clothes and the money and the things he invented—the things he made—that were supposed to help people but only ever ended up killing them.

money, and blood.

it's no wonder he doubts.

so you set yourself to the long and genuinely joyous (if at times frustrating) task of convincing Tony that not only do you love him, more than you've loved anything else in your life, ever will, but he is lovable. not worthy of love, not deserving, and he is those things, but inherently—he is a sweet, caring, kind, fierce, sexy, strong, dangerous, incredible, dorky, suave, fumbling genius of a man and he is loved for those things.

it takes time. good things always do.

you've had a little velvet box hidden away in your bottom bedside drawer for four months when Tony wakes up and sees you in bed with him, realizes you've been watching him sleep—so peacefully, the furrow between his brows erased, as you play with his slightly overgrown hair (you wish he'd keep it, but it's a hazard, in your line of work). you kiss him on the forehead and say good morning, sweetheart, because it is, even if it is pouring down rain outside.

maybe especially because it's raining outside. because here you are, high up among thick grey clouds that smother every inch of the city, so it's just you two, in this bed, together in your own little world, and you're watching that stubborn ember of doubt in Tony's eyes finally get washed away.

read part one

#responses #rachel writes fic #stevetony #steve rogers #tony stark #stony fic #superhusbands #PHEW OKAY TIME TO GO CRY NOW #I can't remember the last time I wrote something in second person?? WHO AM I

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agentnico · 3 years ago

Text

The Suicide Squad (2021) Review

This may be the better of the two, but the first Suicide Squad film will always hold the crown for managing to win an Oscar... somehow.

Plot: The government sends the most dangerous supervillains in the world -- Bloodsport, Peacemaker, King Shark, Harley Quinn and others -- to the remote, enemy-infused island of Corto Maltese. Armed with high-tech weapons, they trek through the dangerous jungle on a search-and-destroy mission, with only Col. Rick Flag on the ground to make them behave.

“So that’s it, huh? We’re some kind of suicide squad?” says Will Smith in the original first film, with the line in itself being a poor attempt at a fourth wall break, yet, that movie never reached that promise of being a true Suicide Squad film. Because hardly anyone died, and as a whole David Ayer’s film was a generic mess, regardless of studio interference or not. In comes James Gunn from Marvel, who seems to have cracked the code for how to bring this comic book series to live action in proper gratuitous form, with even the ‘The’ in the title symbolizing that this is the one!

I remember going to see the first Guardians of the Galaxy film at the cinema, and back then I was still only just getting acquainted with watching western media, and that included superhero films. Heck my first ever Marvel movie was Thor: The Dark World! I know, what a banger to start with.......NAAAWT!! Anyway, I went to see Guardians and it was one of the first superhero films I came out of feeling like I truly witnessed something special. It had action, comedy and a good heart to it, and wouldn’t you know, my good old pal James Gunn was behind that flick. I don’t know why I called him my good old pal, I don’t even know the fella. Except in my dreams, but we don’t talk about that. So, flashforward to Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, which I absolutely hated, and for that movie I’m pretty sure Marvel gave Mr Gunn mostly full reigns of creative freedom, as long as he kept it family friendly, and the result was a mess. Hence naturally now I was really sceptical when James Gunn ended up at Warner Bros. following the controversial moment when cancel culture decided to aim it’s slimy fingers at him, as he was given directing and writing duties for this new The Suicide Squad film, and also it was heavily insinuated that Warner Bros. basically told him he could do with the movie whatever the f*** he wanted, excuse my French. And we remember how it panned out last time when James Gunn was given a lot of creative freedom.

Flashforward to present day; here I am wondering and scratching my head thinking what in the heavens has happened, as by golly I am happy to report that The Suicide Squad is a total winner and a blast with a capital B - Blast! Gosh goodness golly goblin, this movie is so much fun from beginning to end. Right from the opening sequence you know that this film isn’t holding back any punches. It’s going at a 447.19 km/h speed of a Koenigsegg Agera RS crashing through any barriers like it’s nothing. Speaking of the opening sequence, it establishes why the movie is called what it’s called from the get-go. You straight away are proven how not a single character is safe, minus the obvious one that we know who it is, as there ain’t no way Warner Bros. would have allowed James Gunn to kill off that one character. But besides that person, everyone else feels like they could die at any given moment. That’s really a big charm of it, as it is frustrating how in many superhero films, let alone any blockbuster action flicks, so many characters always feel so safe and unstoppable, no matter how many times they get shot or how many buildings crash down upon them. And yes, this movie features a certain CGI character that constantly gets that treatment and survives, although it’s very self aware in that regard and is purposefully humoristic. But overall the entire set of characters feel easily disposable, and so so many of them die in such gruesome fashion, so indeed don’t get attached, as they don’t.

Speaking of which, this movie is hardcore gory! You see limbs and intestines flying round left and right, a guy gets ripped in half by a humanoid shark, another’s face gets teared off by a shotgun bullet and so on forth in all kinds of gruesome fashion. Visually this is one for the big screen, as here’s the thing: you’re either a mummy’s boy or you grow some cojones and go see a man’s heart get stabbed with a piece of debris glass in 4K high rate definition! Your choice! Oh, and it’s not just the violence, also the cinematography and the practical set pieces all look incredible. This is easily James Gunn’s best looking movie. The entire think LOOKS incredible!

We also have to talk about the cast, as they are all great! There literally isn’t a single weakling among them. Each one, no matter how big or small their role is, brings something to the table. I can’t talk about all of them, as we’d be here all day, so I’m simply going to mention a few of the stand-outs. Idris Elba comes in to replace Will Smith as a character called Bloodsport, who is in some ways a different character but evidently is a replacement of Smith’s. But that’s no bad thing, as with any ensemble movie you still need a main character to latch onto and have an emotional hook towards, and he is that character. In fact, I’d say he’s arguably better than Will Smith in the last movie, or at least he seems to be having more fun here. He works as a solid leading man, however what works even more is his banterous competitive genital-size-measuring back and forth with John Cena’s Peacemaker, who by the way is awesome as that character. He is not a good character, in fact he is as bad as a bad guy can get, especially cause he’s someone who believes that what he is doing is right, making him much more of a dangerous wild card. This is easily John Cena’s best role, with him adding to the comedy one-liners, but also delivering such an interesting character who I’m looking forward to seeing more of in his standalone spin-off show confirmed for next year. Oh, and he wears a toilet helmet on his head which he defines as “a beacon of freedom” which says it all. We also have returning characters from the last film Joel Kinnaman and Viola Davis as Rick Flag and Amanda Waller respectively, and both are given much more room to stretch their talents and spread their beautiful acting wings like the Hollywood angels that they are. Kinnaman’s Rick Flag is the moral compass of the group, as even though Elba is our main guy, he’s nonetheless a villain still, whilst Flag is a genuinely good guy and what is defined as a true American hero, to which Kinnaman fits the part well. And Viola Davis as Amanda Waller is on an absolutely different level. You can tell she’s an Academy Award winner through and through, as she plays such a serious character in an otherwise goofy movie, and so her presence is felt and it is felt BAD! She’s such a despicable yet intimidating personality and she gravitates all of the screen presence to herself. Margot Robbie returns as Harley Quinn, and she gets even more chance to develop this character that she’s played in multiple DCEU films now, and as per usual the Harley Quinn shtick works well for her, though I do kind of wish she didn’t always get all the attention. Look, I think she’s a fun character and Robbie plays her well, however she’s constantly used to overshadow others in these films which I don’t think is too fair, and its evident as ever in this film too. Anyway, the remainder of the cast including Jay Courtney as Captain Boomerang, David Dastmalchian as Polka-Dot Man, Michael Rooker as Savant, Nathan Fillion as TDK, Daniela Melchior as Ratcatcher 2 (who gave me strong A Plague Tale: Innocence vibes) and many more all play villains, but villains that don’t have particularly great superpowers. This is where the tragedy of Task Force X as a team plays a part, as many of these villains aren’t even good at being villains. They are useless, and the movie is really self aware of this and so treats all characters as they should be. Dare I also not forget to mention the CGI characters in this film, with both Weasel and King Shark being absolute scene stealers!

The Suicide Squad is the type of wham-bam-thank-you-mam batshit crazy entertainment which exists for the pure reasons of fun. It doesn’t set out to be the best superhero film ever, nor does it need to be. It’s an exhilarating, shocking, funny and amusing ride from beginning to end, with the energy never stopping, and is easily the best time I’ve had with a comic-book film in a long while, and I’m even talking about before COVID! Do yourself a favour and watch this one as soon as you can, as I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again - The Suicide Squad is a BLAST!!

Overall score: 9/10

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watevermelon · 4 years ago

Text

Cheater!Akaashi x Reader

✧ Summary: (Continuation) Akaashi goes yandere over the reader dismissing him.

➳ A/N: Hi hi!! SO many people in my dm’s about this Akaashi cheating scenario! I don’t mind writing about it more at all, if anything please feed my imagination because I dont know what to write! ヽ(ಠ_ಠ)ノ Checkout my updated Masterlist to see what continuations are in the works!! :) ➳ Warning: Not a Happy Ending; IM GONNA BE UP-FRONT, THIS ONE IS FUCKED UP - do not read this if any of your triggers involve yandere-like behavior: violence, kidnapping - you have been warned. ➳ Masterlist ➳ Part One ➳ Part Three (NSFW)

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There was nothing, absolutely nothing, that Akaashi could ever say that would let you bring him back into your life. But the setter was intent on getting your attention, often waiting outside your classroom after school or pursuing you during your free period.

Any rumors about the relationship were quelled when Akaashi set the record straight. He would not allow anyone to sully your name, basically telling the nosy president of his fan-club that he was the one who fucked up the relationship. Akaashi told them to never bother you again, he was the cause of it all and he would do anything to regain your forgiveness.

Akaashi would never beg, but he urged you on multiple occasions to hear him out and possibly explain what he wanted. Why he thought he even had the right to ask that of you - just that fact alone flamed up your anger. He was being selfish and you wanted no part of his life anymore.

But there was also something… majorly different about Akaashi.

He was still quiet, still the ever mannered pretty setter of the volleyball team. People still fawned over his good looks and the quiet genius that he had. But there was something off about him these days, not that you could really explain it. His gaze lingered on you too long and he just so happened to be around you even outside of school hours.

There was one time you went out to eat with your friends on the weekend, going from vendor to vendor along the busy streets of Kichijoji. At some point, you felt the telltale pinpricks at the back of your neck, turning to see his familiar blue eyes staring back at you in the distance. You swore you saw Akaashi that day, but after not seeing it again for the rest of the night, you wondered if you were truly just going insane.

He never outright said the reason why it was over to other people, but at least most knew that Akaashi was at fault. But seeing him so earnestly pleading to have a part of your life again, it made many people sympathize with the setter. They had no idea what he had done wrong, but those ignorant students were so quick to jump on his side.

You tried your best to ignore him, your best friends having your back when it came to his advances. You were rarely ever alone, friends walking with you to and from class. Konoha was your one friendship from the volleyball team that was preserved and he had mentioned once that to even him, something felt off. And so he suddenly started sitting with your group during lunch.

To your knowledge, Akaashi was still pursuing Bokuto romantically as well. The two were often engaged in public displays of affection and so you were curious as to why and how the wing-spiker was okay with Akaashi so actively chasing you. There was something off about the two of them, they were a couple, but not in the traditional sense. They had yet to confirm their relationship publicly, but had no qualms about sharing a quick peck for everyone to see.

You remembered passing the both of them as you exited home, taking the main entrance this time. They were standing there, just waiting by the stairs. You watched as their eyes scanned the crowd quickly before they latched onto you, Bokuto’s owl-like eyes, which usually held a loud innocence, were scarily following you with each step. Akaashi was no better, his blue-eyes that always mystified you, for some reason brought an uncomfortable crawl up your spine.

You only let out a breath when you turned the corner, neither volleyball member able to see you from this distance anymore. But when Bokuto turned the same corner, you felt your pace suddenly hesitate. Akaashi was nowhere to be found, the wing-spiker hot on your trail as you took out your phone. You called the first person you thought of.

“Hey, (L/N)! What’s up?” Konoha’s voice rang through the other end.

“Hey!” You hesitated, not wanting to give anything away as Bokuto’s presence loomed over you, “Um. Are you free?”

“Yeah, but I actually took the train home already.”

“No worries, I’ll go to you!” You urged.

Konoha hesitated, before asking. “Is something wrong? I can tell from your voice something’s off.”

“Um, how about we talk about it over dinner instead?”

“Sure. Where are you now?”

“I’m still by the school.”

“Ah, okay. Go back to the gates where the teachers are, I’ll go to you.”

“Thank you so much!!” You exclaimed, immediately turning around as the phone call ended.

Bokuto was right behind you.

“Hi, (L/N).”

“Bokuto-san.” You greeted, unsure why the upward drag of his gaze was lighting up every nerve in your body.

All the signs in your head were screaming danger!

“Was that Konoha?”

“I don’t see how that concerns you.” You bit out.

“Not yet, at least.”

You swallowed in fear before angling your head proudly, “Stay away from me.”

Bokuto put a hand on your shoulder, “I know you’re mad at me and Akaashi, but we never meant to hurt you.”

You shook out of his grasp easily, saying nothing to him as you passed. When you returned to the school grounds, Akaashi was still standing where you last saw him. You rushed over to the teacher waiting by the schoolgate, your heart leaping up again when Bokuto turned the corner back to where you were and waited, eyes still trained on you. You busied yourself with your phone, texting your friends and scrolling through social media in the meantime.

It was only when Konoha showed up, this time in casual attire, did you feel like you could breath. Their eyes stayed trained on you and you swore you heard Bokuto snarl when Konoha laid a lazy arm over your shoulders.

You explained it all to Konoha, how the two were freaking you the fuck out these past few days. They kept you on edge, not in the way that should have made you mad for their relationship. But rather like they were too focusing too intently on you to be considered normal, especially with the given circumstances. If Akaashi was truly begging for forgiveness, you would have thrown hands with him long ago. But now, it felt like he was truly stalking you, his eyes following you at every open opportunity.

Konoha listened to your worries and genuinely tried to alleviate your stress. He moved to sit next to you instead of across, hugging you to his body and saying he would do his best to make sure you were okay on school grounds. You didn’t cry, just leaning a head on his shoulder as he caressed lazy circles on your back.

He walked you home that night, your hands held together and a genuine smile on your face.

And true to his word, the next day, Konoha was outside your classroom door after lunch. He even beat Akaashi to it, the setter’s annoyance obvious on his face as he watched you take Konoha’s hand.

Your best friend commended his tenacity, “Konoha is the only one with rights in this house.”

You laughed eagerly then, happy to finally have a feeling of normality setting in again. And for a while, the one who broke your heart was pushed to the side. You had more real problems at the forefront, his blue-eyes were the least of your worries when you had exams and homework due in the next couple of days.

Akaashi’s quiet gaze and Bokuto’s bold eyes were far from you now - your friends were by your side.

Or at least, that’s what you thought.

Konoha made sure to walk you home whenever he could. And, as per usual, he was waiting at the gate until he saw you safely enter the abode. Only then did he walk away, heading in the opposite direction toward his own family home.

You meandered through the kitchen, grabbing an after-school snack and blasting music in one ear as you walked up to your room. Shaking off your backpack, which hung on one-shoulder to begin with, you threw it onto your bed before taking out some of your books. You wanted a jump-start on this homework and you knew that if you mentally wandered off now, there was no doing it at all.

You dragged the textbook out and plopped it on your desk, notebook following as you sat down and mentally prepared yourself. The last few lessons in chemistry were confusing, but not impossible. With the right amount of concentration, it would be done easily with time to spare for a nap within the hour.

Leaning down and angling your head down towards the table, your focus was completely on the task at hand.

You weren’t expecting a completely separate hand to slam the textbook close and latch a firm grip around your neck.

“Finally, we’re alone.”

You struggled against his hold, the striking blue-eyes that you got to know over the past year now reflecting back at you. Akaashi had your neck between his fingers, the usually docile setter lifting you to your tippy-toes. Panic set in just as quickly as you were losing your strength, air circulation cutting off as your ex-boyfriend assaulted your person.

Trying your best to push him off, you punched at both his chest and the arm holding you, but he deflected it easily and simply continued to watch you fail to heave in air in his fist. Only when you felt your eyes rolling backward, barely on the brink of consciousness, did he drop you to the ground.

“I’m sorry, my love.” Akaashi stated, affectionate pet-name a complete contrast to his monotone voice. This was nothing like the boyfriend you had for the past year. His loving eyes screamed of danger and you wanted nothing more than to leave immediately.

You were down on your hands and knees, gasping in air in both shock and disbelief. Had Akaashi really choked you within the safety of your own home? You rubbed at your neck, as if the action would help you fill back-up your lungs.

You had to get out of here, now.

Glancing over to your door, Akaashi immediately entered your line of sight and kicked you in the abdomen.

“Now how is that fair?” Akaashi asked, “I went through all this trouble to make sure we would have this moment alone.”

You heaved out, “Why are you doing this?”

“You weren’t willing to listen to me back at school.” Akaashi spat out, as if this was your fault. “And I couldn’t wait any longer - who knows how far that bastard Konoha would have gone if I waited?”

Desperate to put any distance between you and this monster, you crawled back toward your bed, only for Akaashi to close it with paces of his own.

“Shut up.” You boldly stated, struggling to stand but doing so anyway. “You are the one who ruined everything.”

“Baby, I said I’m sorry a hundred times and I’ll do it again if I have to.” Akaashi whined before his face took on a darker look, “Why don’t you understand? What do I have to do to make you understand?”

Not wanting to take another kick to the middle or worse, you tried to talk it out before you could think of a plan to escape. “Understand what?”

“Understand how much I love you.”

You reaction was instantaneous, not even your dumb fuck mind could read the danger in the room.

“What a fucking lie.” Akaashi recoiled, ready to challenge you before you continued. “You don’t cheat on the people you love! And you don’t physically hurt them and break into the homes your victims!”

“Yes, I do.”

“Are you fucking phsychotic?!” You yelled back.

Mental reminder: don’t yell that at someone who is clearly off their rockers.

Akaashi laughed loudly, at what exactly, you were not sure. But it was not the right question since it elicited that type of response. He just cracked a half-broken smile, one that felt wrong and yet genuine.

“Get out of my house!”

The look he shot you back - a quirked brow and a small smirk, none of which was the usually calm Akaashi you were used to - basically told you how dumb your statement was.

Instead you asked, “Why are you doing this?”

“To claim the one I love.” He guestered out to you, out-stretching a hand for you to take.

There were two options here: take the hand and get sucked into the immediate space with him. Or don’t take it and risk losing a fight with the nationally-competing athlete in a matter of seconds. Or worse, anger him to the point of extreme violence like before.

There was no convincing yourself this was normal, your shaky hand hesitantly reaching out to Akaashi’s open palm. He smiled gently at you, almost slipping on the usual mask of the perfect boyfriend that you had originally fallen for. But when he tightly gripped your hand and pulled you to him, you knew that was all a farce for this much more violent persona.

“I knew you would understand. We’re meant to be together, I know it.” He murmured against your ear, holding you at the waist against his body. You almost verbally gagged at the thought of him grinding against you, but if you wanted out of his house you would have to take the first opening you got. You had to play it smart.

Akaashi leaned down to kiss you and not even your survival instincts were enough to hide your true feelings. He must not have liked what he was seeing, since he forcibly grabbed at your chin to angle up towards you. You pulled at the feeling, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck to get him to think you were playing into it.

His eyes fluttered closed, relishing in the feel of you steadying yourself, of you giving, against his body.

And you kneed him in the groin as hard as you could.

Akaashi doubled over immediately and his grasp on you crumbled. You took the chance and ran out the door, slamming it behind you as you ran down the hallway and towards the stairs. The danger looming behind you was extraordinary, the loud scream of anger coming from the setter was enough indication that he was hot on your heels.

You scrambled toward your front door, throwing it open and screaming out into the neighborhood for anyone in the near vicinity to help. There was a woman walking her dog and another person on their phone and you pleaded with them with rabid yells for their attention.

But before they even tried to help you, a hand clasped over your mouth and dragged you back into the house.

This person, you could not fight off, his strength more than even you and Akaashi combined. Bokuto pulled you back into your living room, tossing you on the ground with no regard to how much power was behind his movements.

That was when you realized how much they truly planned this out. You always felt their eyes on you for a reason - they were memorizing your schedule.

From the route you took home, to when you had off-days, to the one time in weeks that both your parents would not be home tonight - Akaashi and Bokuto had planned it all.

And now you were trapped in your own home with two violent volleyball members.

Bokuto looked at you expectedly while Akaashi trudged down your banister, his gaze harsh and predatory as it scanned your figure on the ground. You were sandwiched between the two, nowhere to run and if you were to scream, then the wing-spiker would just hold you down like before or worse, the setter would choke you until you had no voice.

“Let me go.” You stated, voice promulgating the silent air.

Bokuto crossed his arms and walked to your kitchen, expression on his face stating that he wasn’t willing to listen to you beg. His presence alone was a silent warning, run and he will catch you.

You backed away from Akaashi but he rushed forward to grab you by the hair, pulling you to a standing position and forcing your lips together. The force was bruising, not at all romantic or gentle like you had done so in the past. He was nipping harshly, surely swollen lips under his teeth as he continued to assault your person.

“You are mine, forever.” He muttered against your lips, locking in your future least you face the consequences of disobeying.

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Come checkout some of the other ending’s for the Cheater!Akaashi scenario:

➳ Masterlist ➳ Part One ➳ Part Three (nsfw)

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starrywolf101 · 4 years ago

Note

For the zombieinnit thing what about different people finding out how fragile Tommy is

The 5 Times Tommy Gets Hurt

(+1 he gets protected)

1 - Jack Manifold

He had a brief interaction with Manifold on the day he left the prison, but he was still reeling and not truly listening to anything Jack said. That day was more of a blur than anything.

But now here he was, wanting Jack to stop rebranding the hotel. It was only a couple weeks since the last time he'd seen the other, but by now he's made more strides in recovering. Nobody but Puffy, Sam, Tubbo, Ranboo, and Michael knew about his zombie status yet.

Currently Jack Manifold and him were locked in a glaring content, both of his eyes locked onto the other's heterochromic eyes.

"Look, Jack, you can keep managing it and everything, but I really need you to remember that it's my property. Not yours, you arse."

Apparantly not liking that answer, Jack sneers and shoves Tommy. Freezing up in fear, Tommy doesn't even trying to defend himself from the attack. He loses his balance and falls to the ground, skull hitting the floor with a sickening crack. Regret flairs through Jack's veins as he immediately drops to his knees to check over the kid. Tommy's eyes are glazed over as he stares blankly up. His mind is replaying the moment he died over and over again, when his skull was slammed into the obsidian floor. Back in the present, Jack calls Sam Nook for help, the robot had been standing outside the hotel as per usual. He didn't actually want Tommy dead... again,,

When the robot had started helping Tommy, the kid's new... symptoms having been recorded into It's database, Jack had nearly puked. The back of Tommy's head, where he had hit the ground, looked rotted, and... ew was that Tommy's brain??? How was the kid still awake!?

He watches in shock as Sam Nook pours a potion of harming onto Tommy's injury, nearly jumping in to stop the robot, before watching with widened eyes as the wound healed...

"YOU WILL SPEAK NOTHING OF THIS JACK MANIFOLD."

Jack had nodded silently and fled the scene. There was so much to process...

2 - Sapnap

Sapnap and Tommy have always had a... complicated relationship. Sometimes they got along, and other times they were against each other. But since Dream had cut all attachments, Tommy had shown sympathy and reached out an olive branch to the other, and Sapnap had taken it. They still don't always get along perfectly, but its back to how it used to be... playful teasing and pranks!

But since the kid had left the prison, he's been... quieter. Seeing Tommy so quiet felt wrong.

In fact, he rarely saw the kid nowadays.

Having been looking for an excuse to see the teen, Sapnap had found the perfect thing. By a river, he'd found a rock that, if you squinted, it was shaped like a dick. Surely Tommy would get a kick out of this!

Approaching the dirt shack, gift in his pocket, Sapnap had a slight skip in step. He knocks on the door and called out for the boy.

"Tooommmyy! Are you home?"

A crash inside the home was worrying, but a quiet groan of pain set off alarm bells. Without another thought, Sapnap tries the doorknob— surprisingly the door was unlocked. Did this kid want to be stolen from??? Shaking off the stray thoughts, once again focused on the task at hand, he opens the door and enters. A light on downstairs leads Sapnap into a storage room with Tommy sitting curled up in the corner.

A rancid smell hits his nostrils and he scrunches his nose. An odor that was familiar to the awful smell of meat having gone bad.

Walking up to the teen, Tommy stared back at him with large, scared eyes. He was cradling his hand close to his chest, hiding it from view. And now that he was closer, something in the back of his mind registered that the smell was coming from the kid.

"Hey Tommy," Sapnap's voice took on a softness usually reserved for his close friends and his fiances. "Wanna tell me what happened so I can help?"

After a moment of Tommy examining his facial expression, he must've realize Sapnap meant no harm, and hesitantly holds his hand out. What Sapnap sees makes him want to vomit. Across Tommy's palm was a huge cut, but it was green and purple... the muscles torn and bone glimpseable .

Frowning, Sapnap mumbles: "Oh, kid... Here, I have a regen pot on me–"

"NO" Tommy's panicked shout cuts him off mid-sentence. "I– I mean," the kid gets quiet and nervous. "Use the one from my chest...: He shakily points towards the single chest across the room with his good hand.

Shaking off the shock, Sapnal roots through the chest and pulls out a bottle ful of a sickly potion... upon realizing what kind of potion it was, the cogs in his head turn. Rancid smell, rotted wound, potion of harming... Tommy was undead.

Sapnap scoots back over to Tommy, gently taking hold of the kid's wrist as to avoid spilling the potion on himself, and pours a generous amount of the viscous liquid onto Tommy's injury. The kid winces, but neither miss the twin looks of relief on their faces as the wound knits itself closed.

Seeing that Tommy was still clearly in a bad mental space, he remember the gift in his pocket. Pulling it out and handing it to the other, Sapnap smiles as he simy says: "I got you a dick rock."

Tommy's surprised, burst laugh was like music to his ears.

3 - Ghostbur

Ghostbur didn't understand what Tommy meant when he said he'd died. Tommy couldn't die, right...? No, his little brother was a survivor!

There was no way he had talked to Alivebur... but that look in Tommy's eyes... there was no way to fake that.

All the evidence kept piling up, and though he forgot some of it, some things never left his mind anymore. The way Tommy would get scared of taking damage, the way touch repulsed him... Tommy was also a lot quieter nowadays.

It was a nice day in Snowchester when it Ghostbur was confronted with the awful truth.

He had been visiting the small community when he spotted Tommy huddled up inside Tubbo's house. Obviously, he wondered why his little brother wasn't outside playing in the snow, so he goes to investigate.

"Tommy!" His raspy voice calls out cheerfully upon entering the cozy home. "Tommy what are you doing inside?"

He misses the way Tommy flinches, the terrified look in the youngest's eyes. Maybe Wilbur would've spotted it immediately, but Ghostbur wasn't him. He only saw the forced smile that covered it up, mistaking it for genuine happiness.

Tommy opens his mouth to respond, but he hesitated too long. Ghostbur was already talking again, excitedly bouncing in place. "I saw the snow outside and I remember how we used to have snowball fights when you were itty bitty, and it must've been a long time ago because now you're all tall and gangly! So I was thinking to myself, 'hmm, Tommy had been so sad lately! You know what would cheer him up? A snowball fight!' Except I can't touch the snow or else I'll melt so I thought we could go find Tubbo to play with!" It was a good thing Ghostbur didn't need to breathe anymore, because that whole rant would've taken a lot of air. Before Tommy could even finish processing all of that, Ghostbur grabs his wrist and starts tugging.

The unexpected contact send Tommy reeling, memories of a time when Wilbur would drag Tommy by the wrist, grip tight and unrelenting as the kid kicked and screamed. Times in the dark, cold ravine where nobody else could hear him plead for help. That morphed into when Dream started to doing the same thing during exile. Dream and Wilbur were interchangeable, their voices of anger and disappointment morphing into one. Adrenaline kicking in, Tommy starts shouting out for help, thrashing in Ghostbur's loose grip and causing the ghost to let go in surprise.

Luckily, Ranboo was close by and appeared inside the house. His teleportation ability kicking in without him realizing. He's quick to Tommy's side as the ghost watches on in horror. Quiet, comforting vwoops leave Ranboo's chest, and Tommy unconsciously curls closer to the source of familiar comfort. Once the majority of the panic was over, Tommy looks at Ranboo, eyes locked onto his tie. "Ra' boo?" The youngest slurs out tiredly.

"Hey, Tommy, you're safe. You're in Snowchester, with Tubbo and me."

Tommy simply nodded and closed his eyes, slumping over. The air is still for a moment, a tense quiet fills the walls of the house.

"Is... is he okay...?" Ghostbur finally speaks up.

"Honestly? Not really..." Ranboo answers, turning to look at the ghost, but never quite making eye-contact. "But he'll be better when he wakes up. Panic attacks are exhausting, especially for him nowadays.."

When Ranboo picks Tommy up, the red and white shirt rides up on his side a little, giving Ghostbur a good look at a nasty wound. Flesh eaten away to reveal the muscle underneath. Already feeling himself forgetting, Ghostbur watches the two teens leave the room.

4 - Philza

It had been awhile since he'd seen Tommy. Last time had been when he'd shown up to help Ranboo move. After the eyepatch incident, the base had been wrapped in a tense silence. Ranboo left for a few days afterwards, though Techno and Phil couldn't blame him. He did come back, but nobody spoke of what happened.

So, Phil hadn't been ready to run into Tommy in the Nether. He had just been on his way towards the larger SMP when he saw the kid sitting on a path, legs dangling off the side as he stared into the lava below. That sight set off so many alarm bells, and it took everything in Phil not to yank the kid back from the edge.

"What are you doing out here, mate?" Phil calls out, wings ruffling nervously on his back. He kept his voice and expression calm.

Tommy flinches, but his posture quickly relaxes again as he turns to look at Phil, his empty socket uncovered. Phil has to force himself to not stare at it. "Oh, its you." There was an apathetic tone to Tommy's voice that rubbed him wrong. Tommy was one of the most expressive people he'd ever met, and to hear him so emotionless...

Contrary to popular belief, he was not Tommy's dad. He hadn't even met the kid until his son, Wilbur, had gotten attached. But that Tommy was very different from the one he's looking at now. What had caused this change?

"You just gonna keep fucking staring at me like I'm some circus freak, or are you gonna sit down already?" Tommy pulls Phil out of his thoughts, causing the man to blink in confusion. He accepts the offer before the teen catching his mind— sitting cross-legged on the path beside Tommy, but not too close. They sit in silence for a bit, listening to the songs of the Nether. Piglins and Zombie Piglins oink and snort, there's a distant cry of a Ghast, and even the lava is bubbling to its own tune. Every now and then, Phil catches himself staring at Tommy, forcing himself to look elsewhere when he does. Tommy catches on, "I know I'm handsome and all, but staring is considered rude, bitch. Thought someone as old as you would know that," there's a hint of teasing in his tone.

Embarrassment floods his veins, causing Phil's wings to poof a bit, but he could blame it on the heat. "Erm– Sorry, mate... just caught up in my own head, I guess,"

Tommy rolls his eye and makes direct eye-contact with Phil. "I don't want your pity. I don't care for your thoughts. If you have questions, ask them now, cause you might never get another opportunity."

Phil swallows heavily and looks away. A lot of questions raced through his mind, but only one stuck:

"Did you talk to Wilbur?"

The teen grimaced, and that was an answer all in itself. "Yeah, asshole talked about solitare for months straight, would not shut up about the stupid game."

Oh... that hadn't been the answer he was expecting.

"And then continued to want to destroy the entirety of the SMP. He's acting crazier than before, but I guess I would too if I sat in a void for nine years too."

He remembers reading something about the time difference between death and life... back when he was still researching revival. Moving on from his question about Wilbur, he then asks: "How have you been doing?"

Tommy simply shrugs. "Usually? I'm either knee deep in flashbacks, or I'm aware enough to stumble about. Today? Can't feel a thing– 'm hollow. That's why I don't care about the questions,, I literally can't."

His heart breaks as he listens to Tommy's words, here is a kid so beat down and ruined by the world. To the point where he's gone numb. Not sure what else to do, Phil pulls Tommy into a hug, wrapping his wings around them. "I'm sorry."

Still for just a moment, Tommy slowly leans into the embrace, "Yeah.. me too."

5 - Puffy

Captain Puffy prides herself on being there for her friends. For trying for those she loves. Learning that she didn't try hard enough for Tommy left her broken.

And then, by some miracle, he was back. But... not as he was. In fact, the trauma he's lived (and died) through seems to have shut the once lively boy down.

She finds him hesitating outside her therapy office, or therapuffy as she calls it, fiddling with his torn and bloodied shirt. She mentally noted that he needs a new wardrobe.

"Hey, Tommy! What's up, my dude?" She keeps her voice soft and upbeat, not wanting to scare him away. "Did you need something?"

She internally frowns at the way he shies away from her, even though she's not anywhere near enough to initiate contact. Even stranger is how he doesn't fully turn to face her, half his face obscured from view. Still, she doesn't show she noticed it, and continues to smile warmly. Here was a duckling who was afraid of opening back up, but desperately in need of that love and affirmation he deserves. But she has to wait for him to come to her.

Realizing that maybe he wouldn't start anything on his own, she starts up the conversation. "Did you hear about the latest prank on Bad?" She asks. When Tommy shakes his head, the corner of her lip quirks up in amusement as she continues. "Somebody put a bunch of swear words all over his house!" That gets a chuckle out of Tommy.

They sit in silence after that, though its not awkward. It feels more like Tommy is internally debating on what to say, and Puffy didn't want to distract him. After a minute, with his voice uncharacteristically quiet, he asks: "Do you have any potions...?"

"Yeah! I've got some in storage," She hums. "Do you wanna come with me to get some?"

He hesitantly nods before turning his body to fully face her. That's when she saw it. His cheek in the left side of his face was rotted away, revealing teeth and gums. Nausea twisted in her gut, but still somehow remains calm. Instead of even referencing the gruesome sight, she simply smiles and holds out her hand. Seeming to get the message, Tommy places his hand in hers. She leads him down to where she kept most of her stuff, and sits him down on a spare surface– the place being an empty chest just sitting out.

"What kind of potion you need?" She asks, not wanting to assume and end up messing up.

"...Harming,"

Humming, Puffy digs around for a minute before successfully retrieving a potion of harming. It was a drinking one, surprisingly enough. Usually she just turned all of those into splash pots. Pulling on a pair of gloves and dousing a spare rag in the viscous liquid. Carefully holding up the soaked rag to his face, she hovers just above the rotting flesh and asks: "May I?"

Tommy nods and she presses the cloth to his cheek. She can feel the flesh knit itself back together under the cloth. Once she was sure it was healed, she hands whats left of the potion over for Tommy to drink. That'll fix up any internal damages he was possibly dealing with.

He grimaces as he accepts the bottle, "It always tastes like that shit nasty medicine i took as a kid.." he grumbles before throwing his head back to gulp the potion down as quickly as possible. Her inner pirate from days long gone idly thinks that Tommy would he good at putting down shots.

He soon leaves after that, not a word from either of them. Puffy silently promises to look out for the kid.

+1 - Techno

Tommy was being chased down by Bad and Ant again... though they were quickly gaining on him. Since coming back from the dead, Tommy's had very poor stamina, and he's not sure if its a zombie thing or him being very unhealthy thing. Being skin and bones, unhealthy underweight, would definitely affect him,, but he just couldn't seem to put any of the weight back on now.

The Egg cult must've been especially focused on him, bevause they were still chasing him, and Tommy was stumbling through a snow biome... Deja vu much?

Panting, Tommy can only hear the blood rushing in his ears, his heavy breathing, and the crunching of snow.

There's a light in the distance, though! And a very familiar cabin. Alarms blared in his head, his traitorous brain reminding him that he wasn't welcome here anymore. He didn't have much time to think, though, because his foot gets stuck in a snowdrift, causing him to collapse into the cold, frozen ground. The snow cushions his fall, though he definitely feels his foot pop off from his ankle.

"Well well well, looks like its the end of the road, Tommyinnit... again." Bad mocks in a chilling voice– it was a hollow sort of joy, a mimic of how warm Bad's voice used to be. He watches as Ant picks up the detached foot, frozen still with fear. "Any last words, Tommy?"

He squeezes his eyes shut, waiting for his swift end... knowing that Bad was lifting up an axe to swing. Only for it to never come. Instead a clank of metal on metal, and a familiar monotone voice.

"You see, I can't let you do that. You're all on my land, and I'd hate for the snow to stain red."

Peaking open an eye, he's in awe of the sight before him. Technoblade was standing in front of him, his axe having blocked the strike. Bad and Ant look at each other, nod, and back off. It was obvious that going against The Blade was a losing battle. Ant drops the foot into the snow as the two retreat.

Techno puts away his weapon and crouches down to pick up the foot. "What are you doing here, Theseus?" Techno didn't turn towards him.

"Give it back." Tommy ignores the question, putting up his wall. "That's mine, you arse."

"What do you mean its yours? Whose foot is this anyways–" Techno's words cut off as he turns to face Tommy, finally taking in the kid's appearance.

Tommy wasn't wearing his eyepatch, but thats not what caught his attention. It was the lack of a foot attached to his body. Quickly realizing why Tommy was demanding back the foot, he hands it over to the kid, watching in morbid fascination as he pops it right back onto his leg and rolling his ankle. The voices were all screaming different things,and he couldn't make sense of what they were saying.

"So... uh, the weird egg people were chasing you?"

Techno sucked at small talk, but he honestly didn't know what to say as Tommy stood up and brushed the snow off himself. "I'm immune and shit— well I was before the uh, prison visit. But I think I'm still immune."

"Ah,"

...

"Uh, I'm gonna go back home.." Tommy points towards the Nether Portal. "Thank you for saving me, or whatever.."

"Yeah.. yeah,"

...

"I'm just... gonna go."

Techno watches as Tommy starts to head off, slowly crunching through the snow.

He didn't know what terms he was on with the kid, but it didn't seem nearly as hostile as before. It probably wouldn't hurt anything if he started to watch out for Tommy from the shadows..

[Masterpost]

---

Okay its done, I've been working on this for ages! I also didn't go back and read it, and most of this was written while I was exhausted, so there's that

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