#maybe I’ll impatient myself into doing it sooner anyways

[adairtrashart]

Not having my pc with me part 37: creation of the mr bones wild ride au ✨✨✨

I’ll go into more detail with it when I make the two comics that basically explain the only changes between this and normal cotl it is very slightly more than this image suggests

[oracleofsecrets]

I think using the Catholic newspaper gave me a really weird dream this morning where I was so mad about being in some manner of Catholic-type school with uniforms and they wouldn’t let me get the pants uniform bc sexism that I yelled WHY and woke myself up

Anyway;

I might’ve given the band another coat of gold before sealing everything? Idr. Here it is drying. Tiny jelly jar balanced on top of modpodge bc I remembered almost too late that this has to be Curved

I think I did two coats on the crescents, but I only did one on the band bc it started raining and I wanted to move on anyway

Prooooobabblyyyyy should’ve let it all Set overnight but impatience won out, though I did suffer for it. Hot glued the gem on, forgot this is going to be a circlet, tried “brushing” some hot glue underneath the sides with a wire to some success. Used too much glue for the first big crescent :/ and forgot to bend it Before placing gluing it down… the rest mostly went without incident. I used an embroidery hoop to place the band over to get a realistic curve (briefly wondered why I didn’t just make it out of an inner embroidery hoop to begin with,)

Used a somehwat worn sewing machine needle and a clippers to pick away some of the excess glue. Used the same needle to dab paint over the glue and to patch over where the removed glue tore away some of the paint >.>

Here it is, done (or done Enough) and drying/setting. As long as you don’t look at it too closely it’s not so bad (low blood sugar mood)

I haven’t joined it Together yet, it’s still a flat strip. I’d cut it about 1/3” wider than my head in case the wig (that I still need to buy, now that I’ve committed to wig and ears in lieu of Staff) affects that. Idk if I want to just glue the ends together or something more temporary/adjustable….

Maybe a small bit of heat shrink tubing to cover the seam? I’d have to paint that ofc but hopefully that wouldn’t be too time consuming

I washed my vest thingy while painting and sealing and then had to spend like Forever ironing it. And there are still wrinkles :( also I should’ve washed it sooner bc the marker lines are still a litttttle visible up close. But it’ll be covered by the cape so 👍

Having to re-press the seams made me realize why I Should’ve done the topstitching the pattern specified…… if I have time after everything else is done I might add that, or I’ll do it after Halloween to save myself some trouble next time I wash it

Tomorrow it’s time to tackle the cape

Zelda EOW cosplay log: circlet

After giving up on the staff, which was already another means for me to take a break from sewing, I got started drafting the circlet

I had some Eva foam from another cosplay ish project that didn’t go very well due to inexperience, so that seemed the most logical choice. I forgot how annoying it is cutting Eva foam though… the “headband” part was easy since I could use my rotary cutter, except the length I needed was longer than my ruler, so there’s a wobbly bit from where I had to scoot my ruler. Didn’t feel like cutting out another piece, so it’ll have to do ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Studied some screenshots and Sketched out the gem and metalwork bits on paper to get an idea of relative sizing between all the pieces. That damn pvc conduit ended up coming in handy here—I pressed down onto the foam and traced the indent for the gem. Cutting the crescents was realllly fiddly bc I was using scissors. But idk if I could’ve gotten those curves otherwise with an xacto knife

Only on the smaller bits did I think to transfer my sketch onto the foam instead of eyeballing it. My “transfer” method was poking pins along the outline into the foam, kinda like for pumpkin carving. Nice and clear and easy to follow with the scissors without having to worry about painting over anything

I thought I read somewhere that Eva foam can be sandpapered ? So I tried doing that to fix the uneven edges. Idr what grit level sandpaper I used. I mostly used a nail file board actually lol

Somehow I lost my circle gem piece, so I had to cut another one out and sand that :/ I don’t have proper primer so i figured I’d just spray a little modpodge on it to give me a workable surface to paint on. It didn’t occur to me that the pieces were so small that they’d fly off bc of the aerosol blast, so I had to find those in the dark ground bc I keep forgetting to tell the landlady that the outdoor lightbulb is out

I ended up mostly kinda mopping up the modpodge that was left on the parchment paper to get it nice and covered. Then I remembered I should grab a scrap to prime for when I test out paints. Was smart enough to hold the foam with a clothespin so no more glue would get on my hand. A day later It does kinda look like a nice subtle topcoat on my nails though :3 let it dry overnight so I could play some hades 2 and bc I didn’t want to fiddle with mixing paints at like 10pm

The next evening I tested out the paints. At the store I’d been between one metallic red shade and another, and I’d gotten the one that hadn’t seemed Too bright red. This was a mistake. It’s indeed a lovely garnet color, but that’s not quite light or red enough for this. Mixed with a little red looked pretty good. The gold metallic was perfect straight out of the bottle

Also tested whether to use black or white as a base coat. Going with white to keep things brighter

✨The next day ✨

Got my base coat of white on

(Using some weird Catholic local newspaper that some lady who lived here before me still has delivered to catch the mess lol)

First coat of gold. Probably should’ve made sure my sponge was fully dry before painting on the gold… I’m using makeup sponges since they’re denser than the sponge brushes I got for cheap a while ago. Repeating to myself Trust the Process Trust the Process so I don’t get neurotic about how sloppy it looks rn….

Okay yeah second coat is looking a lil better. Added a Little more red to the mix for the gem. I like how the shade looked overall, and especially layered over the other. I dont need another coat on the gem but def will for the gold stuff

Third coat, now we’re talkin. That’s good enough for the crescent pieces, but I think I’ll give the band another coat tomorrow. Testing my gloss sealant on the back of one of the smaller crescents after putting the first coat on the gem to see how that looks

Im planning on using satin modpodge finish though bc it’s an aerosol spray and bc I think that’d contrast nicely and subtly with the glossy. But the glossy is a normal spray bottle, and I wasn’t careful the first time I used it so it got clogged…I usually borrow the spray top from something else, but it’s not the same diameter as the bottleneck so I have to hold it weird :/ I should just buy a replacement nozzle fjsjdhd. But since the pieces are so small I’m just unscrewing the nozzle, taking it out and letting a few drops of sealer fall onto a plastic lid from something or another, then dabbing it on with a sponge

Now that I’m more like Live blogging and not posting about stuff I’ve already done I think I’ll end the post here lol

[aminiatureworld]

Interest II

Characters: Kaeya, Xiao, gn!reader

Word Count: 3,020

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: Sometimes emotions can be confusing. In those times it can be easier to shut down. After all, wouldn’t finding the truth out be scarier?

In which the reader assumes their character is disinterested, and pulls away.

Author’s Note: I wrote a lot tonight! It was nice to write for multiple characters again, made me feel like the good old days, or something. 

Hope I’m finally getting back on schedule and hope you enjoy!

Kaeya

If Kaeya flirted with you, he also flirted with all of Mondstadt; or so you kept telling yourself.

You liked the cavalry captain, you liked him a lot. It was easy to like him, as easy as breathing air. The thickets of romance, the awkward looks, the stilted conversations, the dying words. None of those things existed in Kaeya.

If there were roses there were thorns too, and though you tried to convince yourself that this emotion, this easiness was something good, there was a part of you that fought back at the idea. The reason things were so easy with Kaeya was because of one simple reason. He didn’t like you. Or not the way you liked him. Kaeya flirted with all of Mondstadt after all, and you were merely one library assistant in the middle of an entire country. Your existence wasn’t one for the history books. Not compared to the man that you’d managed to fall hopelessly in love with anyways.

At first you tried to ignore those voices, that cynical side of yourself that existed only, it seemed, to make you unhappy. You weren’t necessarily an optimist by nature, but you were a bit of a hopeless romantic, and flirting or not you at least hoped to get your point across. Delivering Kaeya’s library requests first, always going up to him at lunchtime to talk, even giving him a special gift for the Windbloom festival. You really did try, you didn’t think that the opposite could be argued. Still things continued on as relatively normal however, Kaeya’s flirting never seeming to grow particularly towards you. Eventually it became harder and harder to avoid the voice in your head sneering you were wasting your time. Or maybe you were just tired.

Either way the answer seemed to be obvious. You knew when the answer was to count your losses and move on, and surely this was one of those times. Kaeya wasn’t going to see you as a partner, he just wasn’t. That didn’t mean he wasn’t kind, or that your conversations with him weren’t lovely, or even that you weren’t still in love with him. Still, wasn’t it time to move on to kinder winds? You wanted a clean break, wanted an end to your painful waiting; didn’t want to experience that clench in your heart when you watched Kaeya flirting with someone else as the point just drove further and further home. You wanted reprieve, and the only way to do that was to admit the obvious. This wasn’t going to happen.

So you gave up, or did your best attempt at giving up. You still spoke to Kaeya, the gods knew you probably couldn’t stand not speaking to him. You still tried to keep as light as before, tried to retain the dynamic, for something was better than nothing. Yet your days of simply chasing after him were over, and as you settled into you schedule of new normalcy you found, though things weren’t necessarily easier, at least they seemed simpler. Besides, how much had really changed? Kaeya most likely didn’t notice.

“Kaeya, the manuscript you requested on Liyue trade history came in yesterday. There were also a few other things that came in, though Lisa told me they’re classified.”

“Oh Lisa, always a stickler for rules. Would you like to know what I requested?”

“Like you would actually tell me,” you snorted. “No, I’m fine. It’s none of my business.”

“Aw,” Kaeya pouted slightly, crossing his arms in front of him. He seemed to be doing that more often these days, though maybe you were simply imagining it. “Where’s your sense of adventure darling? You seemed to have lost it somewhere.”

“I’m just following rules,” you pointed out.

Something had shifted about the conversation at some point, and you were suddenly feeling an undercurrent that hadn’t been there before. Finding it uncomfortable you quickly removed the space between you and Kaeya, reaching out to place the brown paper wrapped books into his hands. Taking them Kaeya lifted an eyebrow. Turning around he went to put them on his desk.

The momentary reprieve in atmosphere you felt quickly died, as before you had time to turn around the cavalry captain was back, this time leaning closely towards you.

“What is it?” You asked. This was certainly Kaeya behavior, but it still startled you nonetheless.

“You’re acting funny.”

“What? I’m acting completely normal.”

“If you say so.”

But the tone conveyed that Kaeya didn’t agree one bit. A smirk painting his lips he turned around, though something bitter seemed to flash behind his eyes, and for a moment you wondered if he had somehow caught on to the secret you’d been hoping to keep to yourself.

After that things seemed to continue on as normal for a few weeks. If Kaeya’s books were secretly transgressive, they certainly weren’t doing anything actively, and life as an assistant librarian to the Knights of Favonius retained its languid, unhurried pace. Still a part of you had never forgotten about that weird snippet of conversation, one which was doing a surprisingly good job at eating away at you.

You were almost relieved when Kaeya brought the matter up again.

“Is something wrong darling?”

“You asked me that two weeks ago Kaeya.”

“Really? It’s been that long? I must be neglecting my duties,” he let out a careless sort of laugh, before his eyes steadied. “I was hoping that this time I might get a more honest answer.”

“So you think I’m lying to you when I’m saying nothing’s wrong?”

“Yes.”

“But I’m not! How could I be lying to both you and myself.”

“I find that doing such a thing is a surprisingly easy task. Nevertheless, even if you aren’t lying, there is something wrong.”

“And what would that thing be, Mr. Expert?” For some reason this conversation was aggravating you. Maybe because you couldn’t decide whether or not he was right.

“I don’t know, I was hoping you could tell me. I can’t say sorry for something I’m not aware of, I don’t know what I did. You do though. So the sooner you tell me what’s wrong the sooner things can go back to normal.”

“What do you mean by normal Kaeya? If anything this is more normal. Not that things have changed that much. I’m sorry I don’t deliver your books first, if that’s what you’re complaining about. But frankly, I don’t see what you’re so upset about? You’ve got plenty of other friends, so why are you complaining to me?”

Maybe it wasn’t your best use of logic, but your ability to circle around the focus of the conversation, the unspoken emotions that still burned through you, was somewhat lacking.

“This is not normal. I’m not talking about library books, I’m talking about friends. Or maybe avoidance. You’ve been avoiding me lately, even if you aren’t doing it completely. It wounds me, you know. My dearest companion, what did I do to earn their ire?”

“You did nothing.”

“That’s obviously a lie.”

“It’s not.”

“It is,” Kaeya voice was clipped, matching your same tone. Even now he was shifting himself to better fit the atmosphere in the room, something you normally valued so deeply.

“It’s not. It’s really not! That’s the problem Kaeya, don’t you see?” Tears that had threated the corners of your eyes were now burning across your vision, as your emotions finally broke through the paltry excuse for a dam you’d been building. “You’ve done nothing, you’ve never done anything. You’re always nice, and flirty, and a bit shameless. And that’s fine! It’s not your fault that you don’t feel like I feel for you. I don’t want to make you feel guilty. You flirt with everyone, and that’s fine. I don’t care! I really don’t. I don’t want to burden you. Still, can’t you just let me feel upset by it? Can’t you just let me give up? Do you know how painful it is not to give up? Why won’t you let me at least do that, but no! Instead you come in here talking about how everything’s different, as if I’ve offended you, or as if you worry would change anything. Of course it won’t! And it shouldn’t! But damn it Kaeya, I just want to be upset!”

By this time Kaeya had closed the space between you two, wrapping his arms around you and running soft, slightly cool, fingers through your hair. You nestled into him, despite yourself. You were so tired and so angry, and right now it didn’t really seem to matter who you cried on as long as you were crying on someone. Letting yourself be carried away by your emotions you let your ragged breathing unleash itself inside the walls of Kaeya’s office.

Eventually you calmed down. Though you expected Kaeya to step away when your breathing evened out, instead he remained there, continuing to run comforting fingers though you hair, his other hand gently cradling your shoulder.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that was the reason.” It was simple, direct. Undeniably Kaeya.

“What else would be the reason,” you grumbled.

“I don’t know. It’s why I asked. Thank you for answering me.”

“You forced me into it.” There was no true venom behind your words. You were sure Kaeya knew that.

“Is there anything you want to tell me?”

“No.”

“Not yet?”

You shook your head. “Not yet.”

“That’s alright. Now’s not the best time anyways, since I ought to look my best. Not that I don’t look amazing already, but I should dress up for an occasion such as that. Still, I hope that eventually you’ll allow yourself to live in a way that doesn’t make you unhappy. Sometimes we can’t do that. This time you can.”

“Maybe.”

“Good. I’ll be waiting for you darling, and you know how impatient I am.”

“What if you have to wait for a long time?” You were feeling quite contrary.

“Then I’ll wait. After all, I’ll have quite the reward for my patience.”

You smiled into Kaeya. Despite yourself, you knew it wouldn’t be that long.

 Xiao

With Xiao, the question was always boundaries. How far is too far? How far is not far enough? It was an endless maze, even if it was a maze you would gladly continue to explore, sure that the light at the end must lead to something truly beautiful. Still, you didn’t exactly need your emotions to come in and complicate something already so difficult to navigate.

At first you tired to ignore, to take a page from the book the yaksha you’d so hopelessly fallen for had written. Yet if was much harder than it ought to be, for loving Xiao seemed to come as naturally as breathing, and no amount of looking for faults seemed to be doing much to change that. After all, everyone has faults, and nothing could change the innate goodness you saw in Xiao, the wonder and light that he carried with him, despite his millennia of hardships.

At first you thought to tell him, to cross that border, find that boundary and test it with all the patience it had taken to test and cross those other boundaries.

“Xiao?”

“Mmm.”

“I, I have something to tell you.”

“What?”

“I, I made you some Almond Tofu!”

Xiao let his eyes widen with characteristic surprise, before leaping down nimbly from his perch to take the dish you brought out from behind your back. You watched as he ate it happily, warmth running through your veins. Nevertheless a part of you cried in frustration, perhaps even pain, for you knew you had failed to do what you had set out to do.

It wasn’t simply that you feared losing Xiao’s friendship, feared losing his respect. It was the boundaries, those invisible lines you were so careful not to step over. Xiao needed those boundaries, you knew he did. Though he had told you very little about his past, what he had told was horrific, and you hardly doubted that Xiao’s survival, his failure to spin into madness, was because of those walls he’d carefully constructed around himself. You wanted him to shed those walls yes, to slowly emerge from the darkness which he held around himself. But you weren’t ready to push him to do so, or not very much at least. It wasn’t truly in your nature to do so anyways.

So you expressed your feelings as best you could, with tofu and flowers and all the kindness you had to offer. When you weren’t working, spending your time sewing for a high-end Liyue shop, you were with Xiao. A part of you assumed that it would be enough, that if you gave Xiao enough of your time and enough of your attention the barriers would magically break down. One day you’d wake up and they’d be gone and you’d be happy, having never pushed things too far.

As nothing truly seemed to change however you grew slowly discouraged. You weren’t really aware of your flagging hopes, not really. It was more that you were busy, you were so busy. Besides, Xiao hadn’t expressed much sadness over losing your company. Perhaps he was secretly relieved, perhaps you had pushed too far at some point and he hadn’t told you. Maybe it was best that you give his boundaries time, and not push it too far.

Even looking back it was hard not to call the logic sound, or at least sound to you. In some ways you and Xiao were cut of the same cloth, and though that brought with it an understanding, it also brought its own set of issues. Neither of you were willing to walk over the line that the other drew, even if you could not see where they had actually drawn it. Even if not doing so was painful, the fear of what pain might come if you did was too great a discouragement.

So you began to slowly fade away, without being entirely aware that you were indeed doing so. You were busy after all, and Xioa was most likely too. He was still a yaksha after all, a being whose life was almost completely disconnected from your own. Surely it wouldn’t be that surprising if his views were similar? Maybe you truly had crossed a line, and that was why he never seemed to enquire after you. Or maybe it was that you hadn’t mattered all that much in the first place.

It was a wet, cold autumn day. You sighed slightly as you unlocked your door, having gotten drenched by protecting a bold of fabric you were bringing home to cut and pin. Letting out a huff, you opened the door and went to take a nap. You must’ve been tired, for it took a few seconds for the screech of surprise to leave you mouth at the sight of the unexpected intruder waiting for you.

“Xiao! You scared me!”

You stared at the yaksha, very much surprised by the sight of him. Your surprise had very little time to register though, being quickly replaced by concern for the storm so clearly gathering in Xiao’s eyes.

“You were gone for so long.”

“I’m sorry Xiao. It’s just been so busy you know, everyone’s preparing for the change in season. Besides…”

“Besides?”

“I didn’t want to bother you. I mean, I know you also have a job, and though I want you to find happiness outside of it, I don’t want to pressure you.”

Xiao’s facial expressions evidently conveyed that he was not impressed. Searching for the right words you let your gaze drift towards the floor. You weren’t sure that you were ever going to be ready for a conversation like this, but certainly not in the state you were now. Still, you owed Xiao some sort of explanation. Of course you did.

“I’m really sorry Xiao. I should have found time for you. It’s completely my fault.”

“That’s not what I want.” Xiao’s tone was gruff, frustrated. You found the frustration mirrored within yourself.

“What do you want?”

“I,” Xiao flushed. “I don’t want you to apologize. I’m not blaming you for anything. You shouldn’t apologize for nothing.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

Xiao shook his head. For a moment he just stood there, eyes stormy. Slowly though he reached out to take your hand. You found the act surprisingly comforting. You had missed Xiao’s hands, delicately built, calloused beyond believe. They felt comforting and warm and safe, and you wished you could never let go of them. Drawing strength from that you slowly raised your gaze slightly.

“What do you want, Xiao?”

At first Xiao said nothing. Perhaps he was staring at a line, contemplating whether to cross it. You had half the mind to apologize again, but managed to stop the words from coming out. You knew that it was just a force of habit. Besides, Xiao hadn’t said anything yet. A small spark of hope burned inside you, the hope that something might go well.

There was a gentle tug on your wrist and suddenly you were in Xiao’s arms, his hair gently tickling your nose.

“This,” he mumbled. “I want this.”

For a moment you felt yourself freeze in shock, but soon enough you found yourself melting into his embrace, wrapping your own arms around him. Xiao was warm like a heater, warm beyond that too. It was as if there was something in his soul. Gentle, flickering, it brought you happiness that you never thought you could imagine. You wanted to bask in it forever, it was worth any twists and turns you might have to take to reach it.

“Don’t disappear again.”

“I won’t.”

“I should have come earlier.”

“It’s alright. Hey, Xiao?”

“What?” Xiao’s arms tightened around you slightly. You didn’t want to talk much more either.

“What do you think of me?”

Xiao let out a soft snort. “I thought that was pretty obvious.”

“What?”

“I love you.”

It was more than you could have ever hoped for.

[bxtchforstyles]

I’ll Get There.

Harry Styles X Y/N 

Y/N has been struggling with her body image ever since she was a teenager, but now that she was becoming a big time model, it had only gotten worse. 

Warnings: mentions of eating disorders, and symptoms similar to those of a panic attack. 

Word count: 2.4k+ 

gif not mine.

Y/N never realized that not everyone gets dizzy when they stand up too fast. 

She just figured that it was something that happened to everybody, especially since it had been happening to her for years. 

That’s why she was always confused when people asked what was wrong when she had to stop for a moment to gain her balance after standing up from where she was sitting. 

It was later though, when Y/N realized exactly why everyone thought she was sick when she stood. 

She had also been happily dating her boyfriend Harry for almost two years now, that’s when it got the worst. 

Growing up in the spotlight, Y/N never realized how much it took a toll on your self image. She never liked your body, or your face, or your hair, or anything really. 

And it didn’t help that her mother was a famous model for all of her teenage years, which was only ruined when she had Y/N accidentally at the age of twenty two. 

She was an amazing mother nonetheless, but Y/N had always carried this sense of guilt among her unborn self. She knew that her mother was easily one of the most sought after models of her generation, and almost everyone knew who she was. 

So when the tabloids got ahold of the fact she was pregnant, her career was basically over. 

Babies ruin your body. 

At around the age of sixteen, Y/N began to get into modeling, just like her mom, and just like the media had expected. 

 ‘She’s a natural’ 

‘She takes after her mother’ 

‘Let’s hope she doesn’t make the same mistake her mother made’ 

She had heard it all. 

But with the modeling industry, comes diets, and workouts, and healthy, green, disgusting smoothies. All of which were very bad for your mental state, by the way. 

The modeling world was a whole different work than the one Y/N had been surrounded by for the first fifteen years of her life, and now she was in this new world, she realized how much prettier everyone else around her was. 

It wasn’t bad at first, it was just a few skipped snacks, maybe a skipped meal here and there. 

It wasn’t anything serious, it was just a calorie deficit, which is what she thought she needed anyway. 

Everyone told her she looked wonderful, and that only encouraged her more. 

It slowly progressed until she was around eighteen, she was put in an overnight hospital stay once, but it was simply brushed aside, since she claimed her malnourishment was just due to stress.

She promised her mother that she would start consciously eating more again. 

She promised. 

But later that year was when she began dating Harry. It was wonderful, and she didn’t have any doubts that she was beautiful, and he made sure of that. 

But now two years later, the two of them were still going strong. 

Y/N had gotten the job of any model's dream, getting to premiere at the Victoria Secret Fashion Show. 

And it just so happened that her very own boyfriend was chosen to be the performer. 

Y/N was excited at first, finally getting the chance to be able to get on stage with her boyfriend. But that didn’t last very long when she went on twitter a little after the announcement had been posted. 

It was safe to say that most of Harry’s fans were not very pleased that she was going to be walking in the show. 

But there was one tweet that made her particularly sick to her stomach. 

It said; “It would be ten times cuter if it was Kendall walking that runway, Y/N could never compare to her” 

It had now been almost a week since she had read that tweet, and it had made her want to cry. She had definitely had her moments where she fell completely apart while in the shower, but she could never do that in front of Harry. 

She wouldn’t even know where to start. 

Y/N had always been the type of person to hide her emotions, and most of the time she did it very well, that was until the dam finally broke. 

That's when she decided to take a hot shower, thinking maybe it would relax her, and maybe even burn a few calories.  

Harry didn't even realize how long his girlfriend had been in the shower, until he went to run the dishwasher and it wouldn't start.

That meant that there was zero hot water. 

“Y/N?” He knocked on the bathroom door, hoping for a response, “are you okay?” 

He didn't get a response at all, not vocally at least. 

He heard the water turn off from inside the bathroom, figuring that his voice must have broken her out of a gaze of some sort. 

He knocked again, “baby? Are you okay? You've been in there a while.” 

His voice trailed off when he heard the door open slightly, promoting for him to open the ajar door fully. 

Harry was shocked at what he saw, closing the door behind them to give them some privacy, even though no one else lived in their apartment.

The sight of the small girl was definitely a confusing one to Harry, seeing that he had no clue what Y/n had been struggling with for the past years, but especially the past few years. 

She was curled in a ball, her arms wrapped around her legs, pulling them to her chest with her back against the wall. Sitting next to her was the digital scale that Harry frequently used to check his weight. 

He approached her slowly, not wanting to startle her or make her think he was mad at her in any way. 

When he got close enough to read the number that was being shown on the scale, he was appalled. He had to hold back his gasp as he crouched in front of her in order for his eyes to be level with hers. 

“Hey,” He placed a hand on top of her knee, trying to grab her attention. “What’s the matter, love?” He was genuinely concerned for her now that he saw the fat tears rolling down her cheeks. 

The only thing that his girlfriend did though, was look back down at her hands once they dropped to her lap, the tears continued flowing. 

“You know you can tell me anything baby, I’m right here.” 

“I-” The sniffles and hiccups that still leave her small body were absolutely heartbreaking to Harry. “I just, I hate m-myself.” 

Harry didn’t even want to imagine what his facial expression looked like in that moment, because hearing his girl say that, absolutely broke him. 

“Y/N,” He finally spoke shakily, rubbing his hands up and down her thighs as her legs straightened. “W-why?” 

He never would have imagined that she was feeling like this, and that made him feel awful knowing that he maybe could have helped her sooner. She had been hurting for god knows how long and he had no idea. 

“I know that you say that you think I’m pretty, and beautiful-” She cuts herself off when another sob racks her body. “But sometimes I think you just tell me that so you don’t hurt my feelings.” 

It had taken her a while to regain her breathing at times, and Harry could see why. Her body was clearly fragile, and was working way harder than it should have to just to keep her lungs pumping. 

He walked into their bedroom that was connected to the bathroom, quickly grabbing the Gatorade that he had set on the dresser a few moments ago when he had begun knocking on the door. 

“Here, take a drink baby.” He tried to put the plastic bottle in her hand, but she wouldn’t even hold it before she was immediately pushing it away. “Y/N, you need to drink something.” 

Her tears only got stronger, her breath becoming more erratic as she shook her head no. 

Her skin was pale, and the bones of shoulder protruded from her body. She looked sick, but Harry didn’t want to admit that, even to himself. 

“I can’t, Harry, I can’t.” The breath that she exhaled was ragged, prompting him to put the hand that wasn’t holding the Gatorade bottle on her back, running it up and down. 

“Yes, you can baby. I promise, I will be here the entire time.” He nodded encouragingly, but she didn’t say a word. “Can you please just take one sip? If not you for, for me.” 

The daunting look that she gave the plastic bottle was enough to make her start hyperventilating. “You don’t get it.” 

“I know I don't,” He sighed loudly, “but I want to.” 

“Why me?” Her voice was barely audible, making so Harry didn’t even hear what she said at first. 

“What?” His large, ring-clad hand was still rubbing up and down her back in an attempt to make her breathe even out. 

Y/N took a deep breath, like she was trying to figure out what to say. “Why do you want me? You could have literally any girl you want, yet you’re still here, and I just don’t get it.” 

It probably seemed horrible when Harry stayed silent for a moment, staring blankly at her. But in all reality, he was just trying to come up with an answer that would be suitable enough to make her understand exactly how he felt about her. 

“I just- I can’t help you understand how I’m feeling, and what I’m going through until I understand. I-i really need to understand.” 

“You know that I love you so much, darling.” 

That’s when the dam finally broke, the tears starting again, and Y/N’s hands angrily slamming down on the bathroom floor. “But why? Help me understand!” She bellowed, making Harry’s eyes widen. 

“Understand what, love?” His voice was calm, and Y/N wasn;t surprised by it. He had never raised his voice at her in the slightest, and she didn’t think he was going to start. 

“Why you chose me! You have a million girls literally at your feet that are so much prettier, and skinnier, and nicer-” Harry cut her off. 

He knew exactly what she was doing. Her anxiousness always caused rambling like this where she would spill all of her feelings, and it made his heart ache that she could ever feel like this. 

“I don’t want anyone else.” He said simply, grabbing her hands. “I love you because you light up any room that you walk into. I love the way you play with your hair when you’re being impatient. I love the way you immediately run to me when I walk in the front door. I love when you attempt to cook, even though you are horrendous at it, but I know you try for me.” 

“I love every single thing about you, to the point that I don’t think I could ever look at anyone else with even remotely the same amount of admiration as I have when I look at you. You make me who I am, and no one else could ever fill my heart to the extent that you do.” 

Y/N looked up at him, watching the single tear roll down his cheek. The only thing she could think to do was lean her head forward from where she was sitting in front of him, laying her head on his chest. 

“Everybody’s mad that I’m going to be walking at the show while you’re performing. They all wanted you to be performing with Kendall.” 

Harry’s hands went under her slim arms, picking her up with ease before placing her in his lap. “I don’t want to perform for anyone unless you’re walking that runway.” 

“I love you.” 

He kissed the top of her head, “I love you too.” 

Y/N laid in his lap for a few more minutes before he stood up, wrapping his arms easily around the back of her thighs, pulling her legs to wrap around his torso. 

“Why don't we eat something, make you feel better?” At this time, Harry had completely forgotten about the image of his girlfriend crying in front of the scale. 

She shook her head as he laid her down against the comforter in their bed, “m’ not hungry.”

He knew better than that, “you haven't eaten all day, what's going on?” 

“I’m preparing for the show, Harry.” 

That’s when he definitely knew something was off, she never called him by his first name. He also saw the look on her face when he mentioned food, she looked sad, not only sad, but disgusted. 

“Did you see the same number on the scale that I did?” He didn’t want to bring it up at first, but now he felt it was necessary to lightly mention it. “If anything, you’re underweight, Y/N.” 

“The number on the scale means absolutely nothing when I still look like- like this.” She motioned down towards her body, making Harry frown. 

He wrapped his fingers around her wrist, his thumb and pointer finger connecting immediately, basically overlapping them. “That is not healthy, baby. You need to eat in order to fuel your body, or else you will be so weak that you won’t even be able to make it down the runway.” 

“I can’t be fat for this show Harry, I just can’t. There is too much speculation about me already, and I can’t be known as the fat Victoria Secret model, on top of being the girl who’s dating Harry Styles.” 

“But you’re not fat, and I know that it’s hard for you to see since you’ve had to struggle with these types of things in the modeling industry for so long, but you need to eat.” She was already shaking her head, making Harry’s eyes well with tears. 

“Please, Y/N, for me. I’m not asking for you to sit down and have a full course meal, maybe just something small, healthy even. How about a little side salad, would that be okay? You don’t even have to eat the whole thing.” 

Finally, he got his girlfriend to agree, slowly nodding her head. 

He kneeled onto the bed, wrapping his arms firmly around her. “You’re so beautiful, baby. I love you so much, thank you.” 

“I love you too. A lot.” 

Harry grabbed Y/N’s cheeks in his hands, feeling her strong cheekbones against his palms. “I just want you to be healthy, you know that, right?” 

She smiled lightly, leaning her head into his hand, “I’ll get there.”

“I know you will.” 

i hope you like my very first imagine that i have posted on this account! should i do a part two of the fashion show? lmk!!

[wanderinginksplot]

Nobody Listens to Kix

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Case 01245: Commander Bly

"Hold still, vod," Kix reminded gently. "The scanner can't get an accurate reading if you keep moving."

"Yes, sir," Commander Bly agreed, obediently fighting to keep still.

Kix refrained from reminding the commander that he in fact outranked Kix - and by quite a large margin. Bly was struggling enough as it was. He had been standing far too close to an explosive blast, and the burns covering the left side of his face and body were clear. The fire had melted large sections of his plastoid armor, adding to the damage.

Continuing to wear what remained of the armor had to be uncomfortable, but Kix had to complete a full scan before he could allow the commander to remove the outer layer. There was a possibility that some of Bly's skin had melted to the inside of the plastoid and he simply didn't feel it due to shock.

Finally, the scanner beeped to tell Kix that it had completed a full scan with no motion interference. Bly was lucky; there was no connection between his skin and the rest of his armor. Kix quickly informed the commander of this and they both worked to remove the plastoid from his singed body glove.

When Bly was free, his hand moved as though he planned on exploring the damage done to the left half of his face, but Kix stopped him with an extended hand and sharp shake of his head. "You won't want to do that, commander. Burns hurt worse than anything. You're in shock right now, but it won't last forever. The sooner you start feeling it, the more painful the treatment will be."

"I understand, Kix," Bly agreed softly, dropping his hand immediately.

"Let me do one final scan, then I'll start mixing a bacta spray," Kix told him, readying the scanner once more. "If we're lucky, we can get your treatment well underway by the time the pain really kicks in."

"Don't you mean 'Kix in'?" Bly asked, quirking a brow. Unfortunately, it was his left eyebrow and he hissed slightly at the new and painful sensation.

"I hope that was worth it, Commander," Kix told him dryly.

"It wasn't my best joke, but hey, laugh or cry, right?" Bly shrugged - carefully using his right shoulder this time. He fell silent again, watching Kix configure the scanner. "Can I ask why you need to do another scan?"

Kix eyed Bly for a moment, but saw no signs of impatience or mockery on the commander's face. "Scanners can work through plastoid, but the signal gets significantly weaker. That's fine if you're checking for surface-level injuries, but if you want to look deeper, you need to get under the armor. Now that we've removed the plastoid from this equation, this scan will show the full extent of the burns."

He began scanning as he finished his explanation, but the medbay door whipped open before the short process had ended. "Commander, how are you?"

Kix was tempted to turn so he could see the new arrival to the medbay with his own eyes, but the accented voice made Bly's spine straighten and his blood pressure ratchet up a few levels, so the medic knew who it was. General Secura had that effect on many a trooper.

Still, Kix always took care of his vode, so Kix silenced the scanner's alarm before it could play an audible arrhythmia warning. It was no business of the general's if her arrival had made Bly's heart literally skip a beat.

"I'm fine, General," Bly answered his commanding officer, voice steady.

It was an impressive show. Bly's feelings for his beautiful general were the worst-kept secret in the GAR… which was saying something. Still, his eyes were clear and his face serene, even as Kix watched his heart rate increase. As if he heard Kix's silent admiration, Bly's gaze slid to the scanner still held in Kix's hand and the medic hurriedly put it away. He had the information he needed, anyway.

Kix cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the general and the commander. "The burns don't appear to be deep. Commander Bly was lucky that he had his face turned away from the blast." He turned to address Bly directly. "The plastoid of your armor protected your body from the worst of the burns, but there will be some scarring on your neck and left hand."

Bly shrugged at that, but General Secura looked unhappy. "Is there nothing you can do to heal him completely? I could arrange transport to a medstation. Maybe some time spent in a bacta tank…"

Fighting not to furrow his eyebrows, Kix shook his head. "Not necessary, General. I'll make a bacta spray to help the healing process, apply some burn gel to pull the heat away, and administer some pain meds for the discomfort. Commander Bly will be all healed up in a few weeks."

As he went to assemble the components for a bacta spray, Kix smirked to himself. A kriffing bacta tank? Troopers went in bacta tanks for missing limbs, shattered skulls, comas… Putting the commander in one for a few mild burns would be insane. Kix’s motions slowed as he heard the quiet conversation taking place behind him.

"I have no skill for Force-healing," General Secura admitted, sounding unreasonably guilty about that fact.

"What are a few more scars?" Bly answered flippantly but his voice grew more serious as he added. "General, I don't care what I look like. What matters is that I can fight for the Republic. The best way to do that is to keep you safe."

Secura seemed to let out a sigh. "You were hurt protecting me- Protecting the Republic's interests, that is. I do not like knowing that you'll be scarred as a thanks for your efforts."

"I would gladly carry a few more marks if it means that you're alive, General," Bly said, tone genuine. Kix winced, thinking that he was cutting it a bit close to admitting having non-regulation feelings for a commanding officer. Bly seemed to feel the same, however, since he added, "Besides, scars will just make my tattoos stand out even more."

"Ah, how could I forget the importance of your tattoos?" the general teased. "No one should go without seeing them."

"Well, we'll try to minimize the scarring anyway," Kix told them both as he came back with the freshly-mixed bacta spray. He talked Bly through the process as he gently cleaned the burns, applied the bacta spray, and misted the burn gel from a special aerosol dispenser. He passed Bly some of the medbay’s strongest pain meds. Kix could tell that the pain was finally beginning to reach the commander and wanted to stop it as soon as possible now that the treatment was working.

"Now, I don't want you reaching around yourself to apply the spray," Kix said, finishing his explanation. "You wouldn't be able to get the right angle and distance, and it would stretch the burned skin more than we want. Take the spray and the dispenser with you and I'll transmit the instructions to the 327th's medic. Limit is still your main medic, right?"

"Yes, he is, but I would like a copy of those instructions as well, Kix," General Secura told him and turned to speak directly to Bly. Taking the hint, Kix moved a few steps away to give them a semblance of privacy - even if he could still see both medbay occupants and hear their conversation clearly. "If Limit is ever busy, comm me and I'll apply the treatments myself."

Bly shifted in the chair. "General, you've got more important things-"

"Hush, Bly," the general told him, lifting a hand to brush her fingertips over the tattoo on Bly's uninjured cheek. "There is nothing more important than supporting my men, especially the commander who kept me from being blown up today."

Obviously fighting a blush, Bly gave a single sharp nod.

Kix cleared his throat. "Feel free to make your way back to the Liberty when you feel able, Bly. General."

The two left the medbay, walking closer together than Kix thought was wise, considering the commander's injuries. When the room was silent once more, Kix pulled out a new patient treatment form and stared at it for a long moment.

Everyone in the GAR knew that Commander Bly had a weakness for his Twi'lek general. It was far from uncommon; the level of attention that Aayla Secura attracted from her appearance, strength, and grace made most of the 327th uncomfortable and ready to fight on a regular basis. However, none of the intel Kix had heard - and he had heard a lot, considering how chatty most brothers were - had suggested that the general felt similarly about her commander. Jedi weren't supposed to be attached, after all.

And yet…

Kix's mind played back the sight of General Secura brushing a delicate hand over Bly's cheek, putting the moment in an infinite loop. Even if she didn't harbor un-Jedi-like feelings for Commander Bly, there was certainly enough room for doubt that Kix could sympathize about how Bly may have gotten confused.

But General Secura had wanted to put Bly in a bacta tank. For mild, superficial burns, no less. And the warmth in her voice when she had volunteered to personally help with Bly's treatment…

Kix shook his head, feeling more confused than he had been since his first day of flash training. However, if there was one constant in his life, it was that paperwork needed to be filed. Kix turned his attention back to the medical form in front of him, checking the 'General Present' box and moving on to his other duties.

[ginnympotter]

to the garden

here it is, my betty inspired jily one-shot. to be honest i’ve been struggling to write this for so long i don’t even know if it’s good, but i finished it and i’m at least proud of that. i hope you guys enjoy it. thanks so much for reading 💗 p.s. this is a covid free universe

you can also read it on AO3 here.

Thursday Afternoon

“I fucked up,” James announced as he sat down for lunch.

No one looked up, but Sirius responded after a large gulp of his soda. “That’s nothing new.”

James growled, stabbing at his roast beef. “No, you don’t understand. I fucked up so bad, I’m not even hungry.”

Remus was kind enough to spare him a sympathetic look. “Well if it ruined your appetite, it must be serious. What happened?”

“Evans switched her homeroom,” he muttered under his breath, looking around to make sure she was not near. He spotted her at her usual table across the room, out of earshot. “And I won’t make assumptions but…I think it’s ‘cause of me.”

“I believe that was an assumption,” Remus replied. “And a ridiculous one, at that.”

“But it’s true! She knows,” James cried hopelessly. “She knows I got with Alison this summer.”

Peter laughed. “Well, the whole school knows that.”

James’s eyes widened. He felt his stomach drop. “What do you mean, Pete?”

“Inez,” Sirius answered, still not looking up, browsing through different motorbikes on his phone.

James groaned. Of course Inez ran her mouth. If Inez got word of anything, true or false, she spread it like wildfire.

“On the bright side, I also heard from Inez today that Snape and Lily aren’t talking anymore,” Peter told him comfortingly.

Despite all odds, James’s spirits lifted just the tiniest bit. “They aren’t?”

He shot his eyes back at Lily’s table and noticed that Snape wasn’t there. Mary was sitting next to Lily and Marlene sat across from them, animatedly telling a story. He forced himself to look away so Lily wouldn’t catch him staring.

“Regardless,” Remus said, looking pointedly at James. “Lily switched into my homeroom, and she told me this morning it’s because she’s taking AP Lit instead of regular English class, so she had to move some things around to make it work.”

“Classic Evans,” Sirius laughed, putting his phone down and taking a bite of his sandwich. “It’s going to be a tight race between you two for valedictorian, Prongs.”

James sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Okay, so maybe I’m not the sole reason she switched her homeroom, but she still hates me.”

“No, she doesn’t,” Remus said impatiently. “But if you’re so convinced, why don’t you just apologize?”

James got a distinct feeling that Remus knew something he didn’t. “Did she mention me to you in homeroom today? What are you hiding?” he asked eagerly.

Remus rolled his eyes. “I’m not hiding anything. Just talk to her yourself,” he responded, then gave a look that James clearly understood to mean ‘I’m done with this conversation,’ and dug back into his lunch.

Despite James’s conviction that Lily Evans hated him now, something about the way Remus was even more fed up with his antics than usual made him feel slightly less nauseous, and so he began to eat as well.

But only a moment later, the sound of Sirius’s voice made him feel sick again. “Just hook up with her at her party tomorrow night and it’ll all end well, I’m sure.”

James choked on his mashed potatoes. “Her what now?”

“Her party. You’re invited,” Sirius answered.

“I don’t follow,” James said, feeling as if very little air was entering his lungs. “How do you know she’s having a party? And that I’m invited?”

“She told me,” Sirius informed him. “We sit next to each other in AP Physics because of Vector’s alphabetized seating arrangement. You know that. That’s why you’re stuck with Peter.”

“I’m going to choose to ignore that,” said Peter.

“Anyway,” Sirius continued. “She told me she’s having a party tomorrow night at her house and to bring you guys along.” He lifted up his phone and shoved it in James’s face, a picture of a motorcycle on the screen. “What do you think about this one?”

“It’s fine,” James snapped, taking Sirius’s phone out of his hand. “Did she say my name specifically when inviting us or was she just talking vaguely about our group?”

“James, I don’t know,” he groaned reaching for his phone across the table. “I don’t analyze every word that comes out of Evans’s mouth! Now give me back my phone-“

“No-“

“Give it to him, James,” Remus said sternly.

James resigned, handing it back over. “Sorry, Dad.”

“Now, eat,” Remus ordered.

James was going to listen- he really was- but then Alison passed by with Inez. Alison looked at James and smiled sadly, offering a little wave. With regret in his stomach and guilt in his throat, he waved back, and then quickly looked back towards his friends.

“Coward,” Sirius muttered under his breath.

James gasped. If someone wanted to bruise James Potter’s ego, ‘coward’ was all they needed in their arsenal to defeat him. Above all, James has always prided himself on being brave. “How DARE you. Sleep on the street tonight, traitor.”

“Euphemia would sooner kick you to the curb for this Evans stupidity than depriving me of shelter for simply calling you out on your bullshit.”

“You don’t understand how painful my last conversation with Alison was…having to admit that I still had feelings for Lily…apologizing for not being more straightforward about it in the beginning…you can’t call me a coward after that.”

“Well, until you apologize to Lily too, I’ll continue berating you as I see fit.”

********

Friday Morning

James almost couldn’t complain; he knew he deserved this type of misery. But it still hurt.

Because as he walked into government class on Friday morning and spotted Evans, she was wearing a particular item of clothing that made his heart stop and his throat close up. Her white, knitted cardigan that it was definitely too hot to be wearing enveloped her like a hug.

“I like my sweaters oversized,” she had told him that night.

And now he couldn’t concentrate on a single thing Binns was saying because the very little self-control he had over his daydreaming was ripped away by that cardigan. He sat two seats to the left and one seat behind Lily and stared at the white material, remembering the feel of it through his fingers as he pulled her to him that night under the streetlight, as he took it off of her in his car…

He cursed himself for not treasuring that night more than he did…then maybe he wouldn’t have stormed out of the dance. Then maybe he wouldn’t have gotten in the car with Alison. Then maybe he would have actually had the courage to ask Lily to be his girlfriend when he had the chance.

Sirius was right. He was a coward.

He drowned himself in the memories of that night, letting his ego melt around him, suffocating him with regret. Out of the corner of his eye, waking him from his reverie, he noticed Snape a few seats away texting furiously and glancing at Lily, who pointedly turned her phone over on her desk so that she couldn’t see any messages that might be popping up on her home screen. She started tapping her pencil against her desk in frustration.

He smiled in spite of himself, knowing what each of her little quirks were, because he’d wanted her for so long, and he just made a mess of it all.

He didn’t know how, he didn’t know if he could, but he had to clean it up.

After far longer than he could bear, the bell rang. James was deciding whether or not to approach Lily, but before he could even make a decision, she threw her books into her bag, jumped up, and bolted towards the door. For a moment, James thought she could somehow read his mind and was trying to avoid him before it was too late, but he quickly realized that it was another man in Lily’s life driving her away.

Snape got up almost as quickly as her, his greasy hair blowing behind him as he followed her. James gathered his belongings and followed the class out, curious to see if Lily had made her escape or not.

She hadn’t. Rather, she was at her locker, rummaging through, as Snape stood at her locker door, speaking rapidly to her. As James approached, it sounded like Snape was pleading with her.

“Lily,” Snape said with urgency. “How many times do I need to apologize-“

“None,” she snapped, slamming her locker door. “Because I’m done forgiving you. Just leave me alone.”

“Will you please just listen-“

He strode over. “Snape,” he growled.

Snape turned sharply towards him, his features all narrowed in anger. “This is none of your business.”

“It seems like you’re harassing Evans. She told you to leave her alone.”

Lily finally looked at him, her expression unreadable. She kept her gaze on him as she spoke to Snape. “Please, Sev. Just go.”

But he remained rooted to the spot, his face red, yet seemingly unable to speak.

James adjusted his bag’s shoulder strap unnecessarily. He spoke to Lily. “You have art next, yeah? So do I. Come on.”

And without thinking much about it, he grasped her wrist and steered them away from Snape and down the hallway. He tried to ignore the familiar feel of the cardigan against his hand, noticing how Lily was striding along with him, quickening her pace as they turned the corner to enter the staircase. They walked down the stairs quickly in silence. As they reached the landing, Lily glanced up at him.

It was the first time he got a good look at her face since the dance. The summer sun seemed to have brought out her freckles. Her face was slightly flushed. Her red bangs had grown so long she had to part them in the middle so they wouldn’t fall in her eyes. Her eyes, as beautiful, as wide, as green, as lethal as ever.

When he processed all its parts as a whole, his stomach dropped; she looked… sad. Her eyes flashed to his grip on her wrist, and he removed his hand from her and ruffled his hair anxiously.

She spoke first, her voice not giving her away. “I appreciate the intention, Potter, but you didn’t have to do that. I can handle him myself.”

“I know you can,” he assured her, feeling the heat rise on his neck. “Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize…” she sighed, crossing her arms. “For that, at least.”

James’s stomach dropped. She stood for a moment, as if waiting for the implied other apology, but then offered a smile that was gone so fast that perhaps it was just his imagination, before turning out of the staircase into the hallway. Afraid to speak, he followed her into the art classroom. As they were the first ones in the room, Lily chose a table, and feeling reckless, James sat down next to her. “Sirius told me you’re having a party tonight.”

She nodded. “I am.”

“And that I’m invited.”

Her expression was suspicious. “You are.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You sure you want me there?”

She yanked her sketchbook out of her bag, opening it up roughly. “Show up, don’t show up, your choice, I don’t really care.”

But her voice was impassive, whereas it was usually filled with inflection and passion and emotion, so the lack thereof was a giveaway that she did care. He almost wanted to call her bluff, but the rest of their classmates started trickling in, including Lily’s friend, Mary Macdonald, who sat down and gave James a scathing look. He nodded at her politely and then focused on his bag, taking out his materials. Sirius strode in and sat next to James, giving him a questioning look. James just shook his head as he doodled on the corner of his sketchbook.

“Evans. Macdonald,” Sirius greeted their desk mates. “Ready to get smashed tonight?”

“Always,” Mary said.

“How difficult do you think it will be to impose a three-drink maximum?”

“Maximum?” Sirius gaped.

“Impossible, Lil,” Mary told her.

“What for?” asked Sirius, seeming deeply offended.

Lily sighed, pulling on her cardigan sleeves. “I just don’t want anyone breaking anything. Or vomiting on anything. My parents would kill me.”

“Or worse than that,” Mary looked at her. “Petunia,” she and Lily said simultaneously, grimacing.

Sirius let out a laugh like a bark. “Your boring, uptight sister? I’d like to see her try.”

“Oh, she will try,” Lily assured him.

“She won’t be home though, right?” Mary asked. “She’ll be off with her loser boyfriend.”

“Well, I apologize in advance, Evans, but I am going to be having more than three drinks. I probably won’t throw up, but no promises about not breaking anything, especially if this one tags along,” Sirius said, elbowing James. “Becomes a complete klutz under the influence.”

Mary turned her head sharply towards James. “You’re coming? To Lily’s party tonight? Who invited you?”

“I did,” Lily informed her, looking at her friend pointedly as if trying to send her a telepathic message. “Well, technically, I invited Sirius and told him to invite the other three. But Potter hasn’t made his mind up yet.”

Mary looked like she was containing herself as she said quietly, “Well, maybe you shouldn’t come. We can’t risk anything being broken. Although maybe it would be fun to see James suffer from Petunia’s wrath…”

James offered her an obviously fake smile, to which she narrowed her eyes in response just as the teacher began to attempt to gain the class’s attention. As the room became quiet, James caught Lily’s eyes again. Her cheeks were flushed but she didn’t shy away, she held his gaze, as if daring him to do something. If only he knew what.

*****

Friday Night

“James, stop being melodramatic.”

“Have you met him, Remus?” Sirius laughed, which James did not appreciate at all. As if he wasn’t melodramatic himself. “It’s his lifestyle.”

“Come on, we’re going to be late,” Peter urged them eagerly.

“I am unable to move,” James stated. “I have suddenly been rendered immobile. You guys go. I’ll just die here.”

Remus sighed heavily. “We’re two blocks away, James. Enough of your pretend psychosomatic syndrome and move.”

“Should I run back home and grab your skateboard?” asked Sirius, amused. “We’ll strap you to it and push you the rest of the way.”

“That could work.”

“No,” Remus refused. “Just be a man and go apologize to her. Excuse my gendered language.”

“You’re not excused,” James responded. But he grunted as he watched Remus turn and resume their route, so he forced his own legs forward, and he began to walk towards their doomed destination once again.

“Huzzah!” Peter shouted in celebration, scurrying after him.

“It’s a miracle!” Sirius gasped, throwing an arm around James’s shoulders. “Maybe I’ll convert from atheist to agnostic now.”

James chuckled nervously, fighting the urge to run very far away. He thought he could read Lily like a book, but with each step towards her house he felt increasingly doubtful of her intentions, how she would react when he arrived. It was the last time he could dream about what would happen when she sees his face again, and living in the best-case scenario fantasy was much easier than doing it in reality. But he knew if he didn’t seize this opportunity to apologize to Lily, he would never get another chance. And so he trudged on until they reached their destination. He could faintly hear the music that was blaring inside. Mary and Marlene were on the front porch laughing, Lily standing beside them.

Lily, who took his breath away with a singular glance, had her hair up the way he liked, wearing high-waist, denim shorts, a white t-shirt, and that damn cardigan. He felt his airways clog up with desire.

Mary gave James a similar dubious look as she did in art class. Marlene, who was protective of Lily but slightly more sympathetic than Mary, gave him a tight-lipped smile.

Sirius let go of James as Remus hugged Lily. James was filled with curiosity as he watched them quickly exchange whispered words in urgency. Remus patted Lily on the shoulder before walking in to her house. Peter and Marlene followed, but Sirius loitered outside, putting his arm around Mary.

“Come, Macdonald. It’s a beautiful night. Let’s walk.”

“Where?” she asked him skeptically.

“To the other side of the porch,” he told her, winking at James as if to tell him I got you covered, before steering her away from James and Lily.

It was just them for now.

There were so many things he wanted to tell her. How beautiful she looked, how much he missed her over the summer, how sorry he was for everything.

“So, I showed up,” is what he blurted out.

“And so you did.” She gave him a once over. “You look nice.”

“So do you,” he responded in haste. “More than nice- great.”

She shrugged, playing with the ends of her hair. James looked over to the other side of the porch and saw Sirius chatting up Mary, who was touching his arm and laughing.

For fear of Sirius’s distraction skills only lasting so long, James looked back at Lily. “Evans, I…I really need to talk to you. Do you think there’s somewhere we can do that with, er, a little more privacy? Like the garden?”

She bit her lip as she contemplated it. He tried not to stare, he really tried, but suddenly he felt like he was sweating.

Eventually, she nodded. “Sure. Follow me.”

She turned into her house and made her way through the living room and kitchen to the backdoor, striding without once looking back or making sure James was close behind. He followed her out the screen door and into the garden.

He sat beside her on the bench beside the orchids. The same bench where he kissed her last.

“The Evans household has a thing for flowers, huh?”

“What?”

“Well the garden has a lot of flowers. You and your sister, both named after flowers. These orchids are really nice,” he rambled nervously.

“Thanks?” she responded, looking at him suspiciously. “So, you wanted to talk?”

He cleared his throat. “Sorry. Uh, anyway. Thanks, yeah, I do. Honestly, I thought you’d tell me to go fuck myself.”

He could tell she was holding back a smile as she said, “I strongly considered it.”

“I’d deserve it,” he told her honestly, mustering up his courage. “I mean, I do deserve it. That’s why I’m here, I…I want to- no, I need to apologize to you for the way I acted the last week in school before you went away for the summer… I know you already know about it, but I…” he paused, taking a deep breath and locking eyes with her. He needed her to understand this. “I hope you can trust me when I tell you that what happened with Alison was just a summer thing…it’s over now.”

“It’s fine, James,” she said, breaking eye contact and looking off into the distance.

“No, it’s not fine,” he said in earnest. “It was stupid. Leaving the dance like that and not even talking to you and then only a few days later getting with Alison. It’s probably the worst thing I ever did. It wasn’t fair to Alison, because I was just trying to get you out of my head. But it especially wasn’t fair to you. And I’m sorry.”

The silence sat heavy around them before Lily sighed. She continued to stare at the flowers in the garden. “I just don’t know where it all went wrong.”

“I do,” he responded quietly. “At the dance, your favorite song was playing. ‘Lover’ by Taylor Swift. Remember?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, I wanted to dance with you to it-“

“I wanted to dance with you to it too,” she said, snapping her gaze back to his. Her look was fierce. “But I couldn’t find you!”

“I was sitting in the corner of the gym taking a break from the chaos. The dance was overwhelming. If it’s not a football game, I hate the crowds. You know that.”

“I do know that,” she replied, her face red. “Which is why I was trying to find you- I thought…God this sounds so stupid now. I thought we could dance to it outside or something.”

James tried to swallow, but it felt like his heart had jumped up into his throat. He forced more words out of his mouth. “It’s not stupid, that’s what I wanted to do.” They both smiled for a fraction of a second, but then his face dropped again as he told her, “But then I saw you dance with…him.”

Lily’s smile evaporated too. “You mean Severus?”

“Yes.”

Lily put her head in her hands. “Of course. Of course that’s what happened. God, how did I not put two and two together?”

“I know I was wrong now, I know nothing happened that night. Remus told me as much this summer,” he said, putting a hand through his hair, feeling the embarrassment spreading across his own cheeks. “But it was like my worst nightmare playing out before my eyes! I didn’t know you went looking for me at first, I didn’t know what you guys were talking about, I just saw his arms around you and was so angry I stormed out as fast as I could, so that I wouldn’t do something really stupid to him!”

Lily groaned, removing her hands from her face and pulling on her cardigan sleeves. “You could’ve spoken to me about it literally at any point after up until I left for my trip. I tried talking to you that last day in school and you gave me such a cold shoulder!”

“I know. And I’m sorry for that,” he apologized, hoping the sincerity was evident in his voice. “It’s not an excuse, but I was just hurt. We all know how obsessed Snivellus-“

“James,” she interrupted, rolling her eyes.

“Sorry, sorry, I know you hate that. We all know how obsessed Snape,” he corrected himself begrudgingly, continuing on, “is with you, and I know you two are like childhood best friends or whatever, so I jumped to conclusions when I saw you indulging him.”

“Well, you jumped wrong,” she almost spat. She was angry now, real angry, but James could not tell if her fury was directed at him or Snape. “I wasn’t indulging anything, he must’ve had his hands on me for fifteen seconds before I got him off me, told him off and stormed away.”

James felt a sense of relief and guilt tangled up inside him. “What happened?”

She fidgeted, exhaling deeply. “He was warning me about you for, I don’t know, the nine hundredth time at that point, saying how I should be with him instead, the usual bullshit. I went looking for you again but Sirius said you had left suddenly… And then you wouldn’t even look at me at school.”

“I was embarrassed. And furious,” he admitted.

“Yeah, I could tell as much.”

“But I still saw you talking to him,” James remembered, knowing it did not make a difference but wanting her to understand his entire thought process. “That last day in school. I saw you walk home with him. You two seemed fine.”

Lily frowned. “I was giving him one last chance to apologize, to salvage the small sliver of friendship I was still holding onto for only God knows why…we got to my house and he tried to kiss me. I had to physically push him off me, yelled at him like I’ve never yelled at anyone in my life, and he ran home. And that was the end of that.”

“Fuck,” James exhaled, feeling his anger burn every inch of his skin, boiling his insides.

“It’s ok, I’m fine,” she assured him, noticing how angry he looked on her behalf, and put the fingers peeking out of her cardigan sleeve on his hand to help level him. She let it linger for a few seconds in silence before bringing her hand back into her lap. “So that’s how my day ended before I left for Italy with my family. But I heard you had an interesting afternoon that day too, hm?”

It felt like a punch in the gut as she looked at him, her question pointed and knowing. His chest tightened as he asked, “Are you sure you want to know about it?”

“I’d rather hear it from you than Inez, so yes, if you’d please.”

He sighed, wanting so bad to look away from her but knowing he had to look her in the face so she’d see the remorse in his eyes. He summoned all the courage he had. “I saw you walking home with Snape, and was…besides myself. I took the long way home. Remember where we went on our date? That block with the broken cobblestones? I was walking there, thinking of you.” He paused and took a deep breath, Lily’s face still blank. “And then Alison pulled up in her car, noticed I was upset, told me to get in for a drive. It was like…a figment of my worst intentions. I thought you were with Snape, and Alison was throwing out hints left and right that she was interested, and so I went with it…we didn’t officially date or anything, but I spent time with her a bunch this summer. But it was so, so fucking stupid to think any other girl could distract me from you because…well, I dreamt of you all summer long. And so I told her that, and cut the whole thing off a couple of weeks ago.”

He paused, watching her face, hoping for a hint of what was racing through her beautiful brain. She was contemplative, searching his eyes. When she still said nothing, James reiterated, “I’m so, so sorry, Lily. About all of it…about Alison, about ignoring you those last few days at school, about assuming something was going on with you and Snape and storming out of the dance…”

Lily sighed, crossing her arms. “I understand. But it still hurts… I mean, I finally let you in and went on that date with you and I felt so… and then just so suddenly…” she trailed off.

“I know,” he empathized. “The thing I’m sorry for the most is not asking you to be my girlfriend the moment after you kissed me on our date. I was going to ask you at the dance, but obviously those plans got thrown out the window.”

“You were?” she asked, her arms dropping as her face softened.

“Yes,” he told her, needing her to believe him. “But not just that, I wanted to tell you how I feel, because I don’t think you really know, do you?”

She didn’t respond, so he took that as his cue to keep going.

“It’s my fault. I should’ve told you on our date, but I was trying to keep it cool, which was dumb, and I’m done with that. I’ve been…crazy about you since freshman year. I mean, I know I asked you out a bunch so you must have known I was interested, but it’s more than that. You are… the most special person I’ve ever known. You have a way of making everyone feel important. You’re so damn nice to everyone, I wish I had that kind of heart. And God, you are so smart it’s the sexiest thing-“

She started to laugh. When James’s eyes widened at this reaction, she shook her head. “I’m laughing because I think the same thing about you. Especially the smart and sexy bit.”

He smiled. “I mean, you’re so much more than sexy, you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. And when I’m with you I can just be myself. We just…fit, you know?”

“I know.”

“Evans, I’ll apologize for the rest of my life if that’s what it takes. I’m an idiot, an absolute fucking idiot for the way I acted. I’m still trying to figure this all out, you know? I’m only seventeen, I don’t know anything! I have no idea what I’m doing!” he laughed. She smiled back, and he took that as permission to hold her hand, and so he did. “But I know I miss you. More than I’ve ever missed anything or anyone. And I swear, I’ll never hurt you again. The only thing I want to do is make it up to you. Please believe me. You don’t have to forgive me yet, but at least say you believe me.”

There was a beat, and then Lily intertwined their fingers. “I believe you,” she told him. “And I forgive you.”

When James exhaled, it felt like it was the first time he properly breathed in months, his entire bodily system recalibrating. “Really?”

“Perhaps against my better judgment, but yes, really. I missed you, too.”

He suddenly felt electric, looking at Lily, letting her admission sink in. “I missed you so damn much,” he told her again, and unable to hold back a moment longer, he disconnected their fingers, put both his hands on her face and kissed her.

To his surprise, she kissed him back with matched enthusiasm, grasping at his sides and pulling him closer so that their bodies were connected. The feel of her was better than he remembered, more than he dreamed it would be. He moved one hand to the back of her head, and she opened her mouth to him. The world fell away as she let out a soft moan at the gentle sweep of his tongue. He sunk into her embrace and never intended to leave, because why would he need to do anything else?

But at some point, a few minutes too soon, Lily pulled away, leaning her head against James’s shoulder and breathing heavily.

“Alright, Evans?” he asked, kissing the top of her head.

She nodded against him. “Yeah, I’m just…hot.”

James chuckled, playing with her ponytail. “Well, that goes without saying.”

Lily snorted, picking her head up and looking at him, her eyes light and dazed. “No, I mean, I’m hot, like I’m sweating. Let me just…”

She pulled back just the slightest bit and unbuttoned her cardigan. As she shook out of it, her expression became mischievous.

“You wore that on purpose,” he accused her with an equally playful smile. “It was way too warm all day for you to actually need it.”

“Guilty,” she smirked, wrapping it around her waist. “I was hoping to spark something in your memory.”

“More like torture my memory,” he said, threading the sleeve through his fingers briefly. “You think I wouldn’t remember that you wore this on our date? The moment I saw you standing in your cardigan this morning, I knew I was fucked. I was distracted the rest of the day.”

“Too bad you didn’t see me sooner.”

“Well I would have if…”

He paused, contemplating whether he should ask her.

“If what?” she asked, looking at him curiously.

James sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Ok, random question, just thought of it like, one second ago, haven’t been ruminating on it since school started yesterday or anything. Did you switch your homeroom ‘cause of me?”

She raised her eyebrows. “Oh, so this is what you were bugging Remus about? No, of course not. I had to move my schedule around so I could take AP Lit.”

“Oh,” he exhaled in relief. “Well, good. But not good about you and my stupid friends conspiring behind my back-“

“There was no conspiring. You should be grateful for that stupid friend of yours; he pleaded your case rather convincingly.”

“He pleaded yours well too. Sometimes I don’t know whose side that guy is on.”

“Well mine, obviously,” she said. “Your assumption about homeroom was ridiculous. Did you think I was too afraid to see you or something? That I’m a coward?”

He tensed up again. “No! I would never- I just meant, I thought you were so sickened with me that the last thing you would want to do is start your day staring at the back of my head.”

She laughed, reaching over and running her fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes at the feeling, reveling in the familiar touch he last felt a few months ago, though it felt like ages. “Nah, I’m quite fond of the back of your head. An exceedingly annoying amount, actually.”

He sighed happily as her nails gently grazed his scalp.

“But as much as that may be true, and although I do forgive you, I do still feel hurt. And that trust needs to be rebuilt over time, you know?”

“I know. Lily,” her name left his lips like a whisper. Her hand paused on the back of his neck. He opened his eyes again and met hers, green and sparkling. He couldn’t blow it this time. “I really am so, so sorry. And I will do whatever it takes to make it all up to you. But can I do that as your boyfriend?”

She bit her lip, studied his face for seconds that felt like an eternity, and then nodded.

“Yeah?” he asked hopefully.

“Yeah,” she confirmed, smiling. “Let’s do it already. I’m in.”

“Finally,” he said, smiling ear to ear. Lily laughed, probably at the goofy grin on his face, before he swiftly swooped in, crushing his lips against hers again.

Her nails continued their work in his hair as she kissed him back fervently, pressing her body against his again, causing him to moan. He knew that every second he had with her was cherished, and he tried to cement them in his mind, but it was only a few minutes later a voice broke them apart.

“Lily!” Mary called out from a distance. They broke apart with a simultaneous sigh, turning to see her standing outside the back door, hands on her hips like an angry parent. Sirius pushed the screen door open, shouted, “Sorry, I tried!” and then retreated back into the house.

She marched toward them, a woman on a mission. “Really, Lil? Really?”

“Why, Macdonald, you look lovely tonight,” James tried.

“Do not test me, James Potter,” she snapped. “You can’t just-“

“Mary,” Lily called her friend’s name fiercely. “No need for the hostility. James and I hashed everything out-”

“Yeah, unfortunately, I can see!” she exclaimed in disgust.

“Could you give us some space, then? Please?” Lily asked. “I know what I’m doing. Trust me.”

Mary rolled her eyes. “Fine. But just in case you forgot, your party is happening in there without you. And you promised me a round of karaoke.”

“And I intend to keep that promise,” she told her firmly. “Just give us a few, alright?”

“Alright. I’ll be timing you though. And Potter, I got my eye on you,” she warned, pointing her index and middle finger to her eyes and then onto James.

He laughed, knowing that Mary always liked him before the summer and would soften up to him again eventually. “Understood.”

She nodded and walked off. They waited until the screen door closed behind her. Then Lily turned back to face him. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be, I get it,” he waved it off. “And I don’t want your friends murdering either of us, but there’s so much I wanted to catch up on, like your trip to Italy-“

“I know, me too,” she sighed.

He interlocked their fingers and lifted her hand to his lips. “Are you free tomorrow? Why don’t we get breakfast and take a drive, spend the day? That way no one can interrupt us.”

“I’d like that.”

“I’ll pick you up at nine?”

“It’s a date.”

“It’s a date.”

Knowing his time was running out, he leaned forward and kissed her once more with all he had, feeling elated as she returned each kiss with her own, already excited at the thought of kissing her more in the car tomorrow. With as much willpower as he could muster, he pulled away from her, running the hand that wasn’t holding hers down the length of her arm until it reached the cardigan around her waist. He felt a shiver down his spine at the twinkle in her eye as she squeezed his thigh. “C’mon,” she said, pulling them upwards.

He walked dreamily alongside her to the screen door, hardly able to believe his luck. Before she could open it, he stopped her. “Hey. I just wanted to say…thanks. For giving me another chance.”

“It’s your last one,” she told him, kind but certain. “So use it well.”

“I will. I promise.”

[seijohsfairy]

𝙸𝙼𝙼𝙾𝚁𝙰𝙻

In where your boyfriend likes watching you get fucked, and you are a bit too late to tell him that maybe it’s a bad idea. 

.word count. 2.8k .pairing. miya atsumu x fem!reader x sakusa kiyoomi .genre. smut (m), slightly angsty

tw cuckolding, tbh incel!omi, spit play, voyeurism, masturbation, praise vs. degradation, atsumu’s fingers (yes this deserves a warning, i’m obsessed), unprotected sex, possibly cheating-ish?

.author’s note. “I absolutely don’t thirst for Atsumu or Kiyoomi, don’t know what it is but I just don’t,” I say all bright eyed, you know, like a liar. Anyway, I don’t know how this happened either but I hope you enjoy it!

+

The first time was a once-off, you’d thought. You had been clingy all day, and your boyfriend had been so tired from practice. So he asked someone to help out for you, and that’d been that. No big deal. You’d been a bit surprised that of all people, he’d asked Miya Atsumu to do the job, but considering the setter’s long fingers had soon been stuffed deep into you it didn’t occupy your thoughts much. You’d all be going your separate ways anyways, you and your boyfriend back to your apartment, and Atsumu would stay in his own little world far enough away.

So when not three days later Atsumu was seated on your couch with a brilliant smile on his face, right opposite your significant other, it’d made you a bit cautious. From as soon as he’d gotten comfortable around you, Kiyoomi had liked prodding at your boundaries. Reaching at but never past ‘em. It made intimacy fun, made your heart beat and so you’d always been pretty open with his suggestions. But this had been difficult to grasp. “I want to try something new. I think you should let him fuck you,” he’d said, and you’d been able to close your gaping mouth just long enough to catch the intrigue in Atsumu’s eyes.

“W-What? But what about you, Omi?”

“I want to watch. If you’re comfortable with that. I think you’ll like it.”

Looking back, you had liked it. It made you feel desired, hot and flushed and it didn’t hurt that compared to your boyfriend, the blond loved showering you in endless praise. Telling you how pretty you were, how sexy your sounds and how great your touch. You had liked it once and twice, and with that, had learned to like his attention too. Slight touches brushing past your hand in public just made you feel like you had a secret of you three. But maybe you should’ve talked about it with Kiyoomi more than you did. Atsumu fucked you in front of your boyfriend more than he did himself after a while, and you started missing his touch. Any time you’d initiate something, he’d tell you to shower, and by the time you came out of the hot water Atsumu would be at the door to help you out.

“Yer a bit touch starved, aren’t cha? Pretty girl,” he’d whisper, pressing kisses to your crown when drawing you close. “I’ll make ya feel good, baby.” The more Atsumu came over, the less touchy Kiyoomi grew. But in daily life, he was the same man you’d fallen in love with, which made it so much harder to complain about the strange dynamic. He wasn’t touching you, but he seemed happy to stay on the sidelines and watch. And you were getting all the sex you could ever need, even if it wasn’t with your boyfriend. Maybe you should’ve talked about it more, but you’d been thrown into the dark so suddenly that it felt easy to cling to the strong arms wrapped around you every other day.

“Keep yer eyes right here, baby girl,” the lithe voice calls, fingers under your chin and aiming your face up. Atsumu hovers over you, pressing you back into the plush of the bed with his weight supported on his forearms. He presses a few kisses to your lips, giggling when you whine at his slow movements, before he trails his fingers down your naked chest and over your nipples. He’d been at this for quite a while, and you are definitely growing more impatient by the second. When you reach up to wrap your arms around his neck with another whimper, he tutts his lips. “Shh, pretty thing. Play nice.” He flicks his finger against your pointed bud as a punishment, before continuing his slow, meticulous movements a bit longer.

But you can tell even he’s getting testy. His fingers keep going back and forth between messing with your lips, your tits and your drenched panties, as if he can’t decide which of his toys to play with first. He smacks his lips before dropping his mouth to the swell of your breasts, starting to mark you up in the places the bruises of previous nights aren’t scattered. The warmth of his mouth leaving more obnoxious blots of color. Atsumu lifts his face from your skin for long enough to settle back between your legs, rutting his hardness against you with slow drags of his hips. “Stick yer tongue out for me,” he breathes, and as soon as you do he pinches it between his fingers to tug. “I’ll get ya nice and messy for me, don’tcha worry. Would’ya like that?” With your tongue still held out of your mouth, he peers down at you with those pretty browns for an answer.

Saliva builds up in your mouth as you breathe out, humming in reply. Always concerned about your pleasure first, he rolls his hips into yours harder. “Good.” He leans down to press a kiss on your tip of your tongue, and as messy and overly intimate as it is, you’ve long grown appreciative of all of it. Even if it makes you feel dirty, you savour the feeling. You’re more than happy to take it all if that means you’re being touched. You let your eyes drop closed when he lets go of your tongue, leaving it out still. Spit’s collecting in your mouth and going down your face, and the blond grunts like it’s the best sight he’s had in a while. “Keep it out, good girl.” He leans down to you again to lick up the length of your tongue, before he sucks on the wet muscle, moaning.

While he traces your tongue with his, his hands grab at your ass to drag you into him more, and you grind back on his slow motions to the best of your ability. His hard cock pushing exactly where you need it to, though you’d love it even more if he just gave up and fucked you already. Alas. When he pulls back to let you breathe, you frown at him and try to speak without disobeying his order. You compromise by pulling your tongue back but keeping your mouth mostly open. “You’re so nasty, ‘Tsumu,” you manage to mumble, swallowing some of your spit before you make more of a mess of yourself.

Atsumu just laughs, a soft, breathy one, burying his face into your neck. “Yer one to talk. Droolin’ all over yer own face.” He presses wet kisses to the expanse of your neck in between the words, leaning up to wipe some of the spit on your chin away with a thumb. “But ya look so pretty like that, ya know I can’t help myself.” He slowly pushes your tongue back into your mouth with one finger. Then he slides his hand back down your body to rub over your covered slit and to give a mind-numbing pressure on your clit. You groan at the feeling, both at his calloused fingers being used so well and at the way your wet panties feel on your skin. He’s quick to silence your noises with a proper kiss, lazy pulls of his tongue around yours and his lips melting to you in a perfect rhythm to drive you crazy. It still surprises you, how good his is with that loud mouth of his.

A soft click sounds through the room. You don’t have to look to know that your boyfriend is freshly showered, and will take his seat in the chair positioned right next to the window soon. Atsumu doesn’t allow you to tense up though, pulling back from your body to start shimmying your panties down your thighs. “Finally. Poor thing’s been wet for fifteen minutes.” You would’ve been able to start much sooner if he hadn’t insisted on a rule that you can only have sex from the moment the spiker is in the room, and not a second earlier. Hell, you would’ve been able to start much sooner if he didn’t want to watch you get fucked more than he wants to do it himself.

Kiyoomi gives only a soft sigh in response as he plops down in the chair, springs creaking. You open your eyes and are met with Atsumu’s adoring gaze, one which he keeps as he taps the sides of your hips. “Lift ‘em, please.” He takes off your panties and tosses them at the foot of your bed, before he finally uses those pretty hands on your dripping slit, working you perfectly. He swirls around your clit for a moment, dragging two digits up and down to slick them up and you’re already so worked up from all the teasing that this makes you shudder. He always is a dream when he gets to put his hands on you. His tongue peeks out between his lips when he glances between your bodies, focussing on every twitch and tug. He’s so pretty.

You take a moment to glance away though, meeting Kiyoomi’s calculated expression. His dark hair still damp, shirtless and slouched into the red chair, he regards you. His stare is blank. You can’t remember the last time he looked at you with genuine lust, but then again, you’re not sure he ever actually did. Even so it’s been months, you can barely remember what his touch feels like. The tenseness of dredging through the thick tar of your thoughts must follow through into your body, because Atsumu looks back up at you with a slight frown on his handsome face. “You okay?” You nod right when he slips in a finger and kisses you on the temple. “Yer so tense, baby girl.” The faint kisses down your neck and collarbones feel like heaven.

He rubs his thumb over your sensitive clit as he sucks and bites at both nipples. His long fingers curl inside you just right as soon as he adds a second and a third one, stretching you out. His fingers are so thick and strong, able to hit the right spot inside you every pump. And the added feeling of his breath on your wet chest, the weight of his body on you. You whine out his name, tangling your fingers in his hair as your back curls off the mattress. Atsumu grins, even with shut eyes you can hear it in his voice and you call for him again, the coil in your belly already winding tight. “Feels good?” he asks, giggling when you nod your head up and down without thinking. Yes, yes, he feels so good. He always does.

Your legs are spread wide apart, thighs trembling the longer his brutal pace continues on your body. “Ah— ‘Tsumu, I’m close.” Beads of sweat pool under your breasts, and you open your eyes long enough to catch the look on his face. There’s nothing there but devotion to bringing you pleasure. You couldn’t believe it when he fingered you the first time, and it’s still hard to believe now. Your body shudders at the sight. His thumb gives a particularly hard few circles on your clit, making your head spin. And his other hand is pinching at your tits, using his nail to flick over the peaked knob. It’s rough, but so good. “Uh, oh- p-please Atsumu,” you ramble, “‘Tsumu, wan’ cum. Wanna cum, please. Please.”

The squelching of your sloppy pussy fills the room, as Atsumu groans. “Yeah? Yer gonna cum all over my hand, huh?” The deep tremble of his voice feels deafening, you’re so close it’s almost painful. You pull him closer, wanting to feel him, his warmth, the smoothness of his skin, anything at all—

“Let her cum on your cock,” Kiyoomi orders, drawing your attention over. He has his hand wrapped around his cock, lubed up with lotion and jerking his wrist to slide over the pretty, pink head. The time you were allowed to do it for him seems distant. At the soft moan he lets out you fight the urge to call out his name, because that too isn’t allowed anymore. Something about breaking the immersion. You can’t help but think anyone would be hurt that the sound of your voice bothers him when he’s jacking off. Maybe you just sound gross— no, Atsumu loves hearing you. He could get off on your noises alone. And turning back to find reassurance in the man nestled tight between your legs becomes easier each time it happens.

You hold the immensely frustrated pleads that work up your throat to bite your bottom lip, instead just going along with it. There was a time where you’d have pleaded to let you cum, a time where he’d have his own fingers on and in you, where your begging actually meant something. But you know by now that the more you talk back, the less Kiyoomi allows you to receive. The blond seems almost as angry at the denial of your orgasm as you are, because the slight twitch of his brow stays. But as he stills his fingers, he curls them obscenely once more and presses his lips to yours. “Sorry princess, ya heard the man.” He then pulls the digits out of you to slip them into his own mouth, cleaning your juices from them with a lewd ‘pop’. He shoves his boxers down his thick thighs to expose himself, giving himself a quick few pumps.

“Bend back yer legs for me, pretty girl. I’ll make it up to ya.” He helps you lift your knees to your chest and runs the flushed, leaking head of his cock up your slit until he’s as wet as you are. Then he presses another kiss to your parted lips, and smiles into it. He pulls back with a low whisper, slowly starting to push in as he pushes out the words. “I love stuffing this pretty cunt. It’s mine.” The stretch feels so good, so so good and he’s so warm, you mewl as he sinks into you. And as you reach one hand back up to his shoulders to steady yourself on his big cock, the other searches out his touch. His long fingers tangle easily with yours, slotting perfectly together.

“Ahgh,” you moan at his first thrust, “so full. S’big, ‘Tsumu.” He leaves kisses all over your face as you get used to the overwhelming feeling of his cock, and you glance over for just a moment to the chair. Kiyoomi is dabbing at himself with tissues. You didn’t even notice he already came. You want to feel bad, you should have noticed, you should have— But then Atsumu switches out the slow draw of his hips for a faster rhythm and you’re gone from the world. You babble out his name and cling to him as the orgasm that was so cruelly denied earlier builds back to a peak, the heat in the pit of your stomach overflowing. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, ohfuckohfuckohfuck, Atsumu!” Your legs tremble, your walls squeezing around him so hard he can barely pull himself out enough to thrust. Black and white marks the edges of your vision.

You’re still far off from the world when you feel the setter’s lips on yours, but the vague words from your side filter in not too much later. Your boyfriend clicking his tongue. “You’re such a filthy slut, cumming all over someone who’s not even your boyfriend. You just need any dick to get off, tch.” You come down after that, feeling too hot but slightly cold as well. Atsumu pulls his hips back far enough to allow you a moment more to get back to yourself, before he touches your chin to draw your face back to his.

“Can ya do another, baby? I wanna give ya another.” It’s sweet. He’s sweet. You nod. So ever so slowly he starts back up, giving your sensitive body extra attention. You bury your face into his neck as he hovers himself back over you, his chest heaving up and down from the effort. “Yer so pretty. So good, so tight for me. Always so fucking tight for me.” You plant kisses there until Atsumu starts groaning out his words, your name over and over and you forget about the stinging gaze on the both of you. Maybe you should have talked about this with Kiyoomi more. No, you definitely should have. Then you wouldn’t be falling so hard for the guy your boyfriend brings in to fuck you when he can’t be bothered.

///

in this house we love and adore the miya twins equally and i don’t take criticism. he’s a fucking treasure, i will bop you on the head if you say anything different. anyway, this was my first time writing these boyos so i hope they’re not too ooc! thank you so much for reading, you’re all beautiful humans. (๑◕ㅂ▰)

[camistired]

one of them // toni topaz 2/2

sypnosis: the continuation of 'one of them // veronica lodge'. this takes place four months after veronica and the reader's interaction.

warnings: angst, fluff, language, forcefully moving on, first 'i love you'

word count: 1579

♠️♥️

"You know, you are so much like your mother." Your grandma rolls her eyes staring at you.

"Grammy, what do you mean?" You smile at her, handing her the plate with her food on it.

"I mean... You have this fire within you, and you hid it for a long time. And I'm not saying that I didn't like you before, I found you very cute while you were being shy, but I feel like your doing better now."

You nod, listening to her words. You did feel better. You changed yourself, not by much, however. You just expressed yourself more and excepted who you truly were.

You were a serpent by blood, your mother was a serpent, your grandma was one as well. Your grandma has always told you about how your family is apart of the serpents for generations. And you knew you would have joined sooner or later, hell, even Jughead, had seemingly despised the serpents, became the king.

And you didn't hate the serpents, quite the opposite actually. You were just running away from them, you didn't care what people thought about them. You knew who they were. But you were scared of what people thought of you. More importantly, you were scared about how Veronica thought of you.

Keyword: were. You stopped caring about a week or two after you confessed to her.

"Anyways, I shouldn't keep you waiting. I'm sure your girlfriend is waiting for you." Your grandma smiles at you teasingly.

"Grammy..." You shook your head at her while she lets out this joyous laughter.

"I'm only teasing, go have fun."

"Okay. Promise you'll — ?"

"You go through this every time you try to leave. Just go and have fun."

"I'm going, I'm going!" You giggle and walk out of the living room, grabbing your bag off of the kitchen counter before walking out of the five seasons room you two were residing in.

As soon as you lock the door, your phone started ringing.

"Hey, baby." You say as you make your way towards Pop's.

"Hey, lovely. Where are you?" You hear Toni ask and you can tell the boredom in her tone.

"Heading your way now. I shouldn't be long till I'm there." You say, smiling slightly.

"Okay, good. Hearing Sweet Pea complain is starting to get on my nerves." Her words were followed by a small 'hey!' from all you could assume was Sweet Pea.

You giggle at your friend and girlfriend. "Well, just a few minutes and I'll be there."

"Okay, I'll see you soon."

"See ya, Toni." You smile as you hear the line cut off. As you move your phone away from your ear, you hear a noise from behind you. You turn to see nothing. You shake your head and look ahead.

Damn paranoia, just go away.

You made it to Pop's and as soon as you walked in, you heard Sweet Pea say 'finally'.

Impatient ass...

Not that it bothered you, however. You love Sweet Pea as if he were your brother.

You quickly found where they were and sat down next Toni, pressing a quick kiss to her lips.

"Yes, yes. I'm late, I know. But when am I early?" You say as you settled into the booth feeling Toni wrap her arm around your waste.

"Never. But it's one of your most irritable traits that I find adorable." Toni says.

"But you find all of my traits adorable." You say with a playful pout on your lips.

"She's not wrong." Fangs says.

Toni rolls her eyes at the small ruined moment — thank you, Fangs.

"Anyways, shouldn't we order? I think Veronica is tired of waiting on us."

You heard the name everywhere but you haven't seen nor talked to her since you blurted out your feelings. You truly felt nothing but guilt when you heard the name. She had hurt you without knowing so but you knew you hurt her. You ignored her. All of the messages, calls, hell even the attempts she's asked her other friends to do.

But you ignored all advances. What you felt for her was toxic, for yourself. You were obsessed with her from the moment she moved to Riverdale. It wasn't good for you, mentally. But with Toni, she helped take whatever you thought you felt for Veronica away.

Maybe it was because she made you feel like you belonged in a town that barely acknowledged your existence. Hell, you were positive that even Jughead was confused if he heard your name then.

Veronica made you felt like you belonged in a way that was too toxic for your fragile brain.

Toni made you felt loved in a way that the feeling of belonging came naturally.

You look up at the sound of footsteps approaching the table. You looked up to see Veronica. Her raven hair was pulled back into a ponytail that you would expect to only be on Betty. She didn't look bad, but pretty obviously tired. But living in Riverdale can do that to you.

"I'm assuming you're ready to take your our now?" Her words were directed to the group but her eyes were on you. There was a glint in her dark brown eyes that could only be described as pleading.

She wanted to talk, it was obvious. But you didn't want to.

She took everyone's order, her eyes landed to you again. You could feel the holes being burned into the side of your skull, but you didn't look at her.

You couldn't.

"A double chocolate milkshake for me, please." You politely order. You refused to make eye contact. You couldn't look at her. You knew you would break.

You can't break now.

She nods and leaves, not bothering to make any other attempts in trying to talk.

"What the fu—?"

"Don't wanna talk about it." You say bluntly, cutting Sweets off before he could finish his question.

♠️

You laugh as you stood around outside of Pop's with Toni, Sweet Pea, and Fangs.

"Sweet Pea, you need a hobby." You say, chuckling at your friend.

"I have hobbies!" He exclaims, obviously offended at your words.

"And those are?" You ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

"I play —."

"And I swear to God, if you finish that sentence by saying 'pool' or 'G and G', I will smack you upside the head."

He closes his mouth, making both Toni and Fangs laugh at us.

You hear a female clearing her throat making all four of you turn around to look to see who it was.

Veronica stood there, her hair now down and framing her face as she held a very annoyed expression on her usual soft feminine features.

"If you guys don't mind, we're trying to close up and you guys aren't helping."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes, "Veronica, if you wanted us to leave, you could have said so."

Her annoyed expression instantly softened at the sound of your voice and words aimed towards her.

"Y/n/n..." She says as her arms fell to her sides.

You shake your head, feeling your wall you built up try to come crumbling down. "No, Veronica."

"Come on! Just talk to me!" She says, her tone desperate.

"Why? To hear you say something that  I don't need to hear? I'm doing amazing, Veronica. I've got myself a girlfriend, who cherishes me with all her heart. I moved on. And unfortunately, that means I moved on entirely."

"Y/n—"

"Maybe one day, we can meet each other again. When you're high in offices, looking for another business to help thrive and I own my little bakery like I always wanted." You smile sadly, "But I know if I let you continue being in my life now, I'll never be able to let go of you."

There were tears falling down her face at this point and you knew you her hurt bad.

And you couldn't find yourself to feel the slightest bit of guilt anymore.

You expressed your opinion. She knows how you feel now, it's up to her to take it how she wishes. And if it was with tears, then so be it.

"C'mon, let's get you home," Toni says, leading you over to her bike to get you out of this situation.

♥️

You laid on the pull out bed on the couch, hearing your girlfriend surf through the channels.

"Thanks for staying with me, T." You mumble, turning over to look at her.

She looks down at you and smiles. "Of course. I couldn't let you be here by yourself after what happened."

"Well, technically, I'm not alone."

"Reese and your grandmother doesn't count." Toni rolls her eyes.

At the sound of his name, the old calico cat hissed as he laid peacefully on top of the counter, making you chuckle.

"You know I love you, right?" You say, not really aware of what you were saying.

It's been three months since you started dating Toni but those three months compared to the year you spent pining after Veronica was the best three months of your life.

So you felt it was only right to say those three forbidden words to your lover.

She smiles down at you as you lay your head on her lap and fall asleep.

"I know, and I love you too."

No, you weren't one of the guys Veronica liked but the serpents, however? You truly were one of them.

♥♠

[vampiresuns]

Something Wicked This Way Comes | Prologue, Part 1

✴︎ SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES ✴︎

As Asra gets ready to leave again, Anatole handles two unexpected guests: one will alter his future plans, and the other will give him a headache. 2.7k words. For Anatole’s apprentice timeline, compliant with all the routes.

You can read the rest of Anatole’s apprentice timeline series here.

Asra was leaving. Again. 

Anatole wasn’t thrilled about it, but him and Asra had had this conversation several times and Anatole trusted his friend and teacher enough to not enquire any further — or to enquire behind his back. He said he had his reasons, and Anatole would respect that. Besides, it’s not as if he minded being alone. Maybe he had at the beginning of his recovery, when the City was still too unknown and disorienting, too much happening in it at all times, Anatole himself barely there.

He had read somewhere that all traumatic injuries which resulted in memory loss were different. Annoying as they were, he was better at handling the by-products of whatever the hell it was that had happened to him. Somewhat. He wanted to think he was, that even though the migraines still lingered, he could handle the shop, himself, his magic (magic that had begun advancing towards places and forms Asra could only guide him towards, not teach him). He just wanted to be good enough at it all, and he supposed he’d have no one he’d felt comfortable asking for help to if Asra wasn’t around.

He sighed. it didn’t matter, well, it did, but he’d be able to handle it. He was sure Antu would gladly help.

“I’ll miss you.”

“You better miss me, Asra Alnazar. Though, must you really leave tonight?

“In the dead of a moonless night. The right time for the beginning of a journey.”

Anatole frowned; Asra was full of shit. “Is that a ritual thing? Or is it a poetic licence thing?”

The magician didn’t reply, changing the topic instead like he always did when Anatole guessed too close to the truth about things Asra did not have the means to explain to his pupil. Instead he gave him his tarot deck.

Anatole can’t remember a time Asra’s separated from it. Normally, when Asra’s gone and Anatole had to a do a reading he used his own deck. It used to belong to his aunt, his connection to it jumping to his tongue before Asra could ask him if he knew, or remembered, whom it had previously belonged to. His cards were different from Asra’s — they were quiet, they gave him analytical and interpretational leeway. Asra’s were... too alive.

He took the Deck as Asra handed it to him, looking at the cards. “You trust me with your deck?”

“I do, Nana, I’d trust you with anything.”

Anatole decided to ignore the charged nature of his words. He had discovered within the last six months he was often able to call for the intention behind people’s words, how they were feeling in the moment, or if they were being dishonest. While most of the time it was useful, sometimes it was wildly disconcerting, others exhausting, or inconvenient. Like right now.

He was witness to the in-between-the-lines of communication whether he wanted or not, being too much information to handle at times. When it was too much, it could feel from invading someone's privacy to being overstimulated.

Instead of asking Asra if he had done that on purpose, he said: “You think I’m ready to use it?”

“You know I can’t answer that for you.” 

“I did it again, didn’t I?”

“It’s okay to need validation, Nana.”

Anatole knew that, in theory. Though he couldn’t deny Asra was right: he knew he still needed confirmation that he was doing things correctly, that he was doing a good job, that his efforts were meriting. Even when he had something completely figured out. Out of all the things Asra had thought Anatole would carry back from the dead, his tendency to overcompensate wasn’t one he’d accounted for.

Alright, that was a lie, he hadn’t accounted for Anatole’s entire personality to barrel through death to assert itself over the blank canvas of whom he had come back as. He should’ve foreseen Anatole to manage the impossible, twice. 

“Do you think you’re ready?” Now it wasn’t the time to allow his anxieties to govern over his capacities. Breathing steadily twice, he managed to give Asra the debonair smile with an inquiring, raised eyebrow the magician adored to see on his face. He hated not knowing, and the only way of knowing was to ask.

Asra found himself smiling too. “Why don’t we ask the cards?” 

✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ 

As Asra said his last goodbyes, a knock on the door interrupting them both, Anatole thought he ought to ask where had he gotten his feathered hat. Another time.

Anatole wasn’t surprised Asra had already left when he went to the front of the shop to get the door, having slipped he High Priestess and her foreboding messages back into the deck. She’d have to wait for whomever had decided ‘after-hours’ wasn’t a real shop-keeping concept. Customers, Anatole swore. He really couldn’t blame Asra for leaving now. He himself hated being delayed or interrupted when he was focusing on something, and while Asra wasn’t quite the same (or didn’t have the same reasons) it was the same outcome. 

After-hours was the time he spent on himself and tonight he wanted to tackle his Zadithi. He had only just began picking it up again.

Again? That couldn’t be right.

A second, more impatient knock pulled him out of his thoughts. Anatole lunged forward to open the door, only to be met with Countess Satrinava, out of all people. He didn’t even know their shop had reached the Palace’s radar. For some reason he couldn’t pinpoint right then, he didn’t know if he liked it.

“Countess. Welcome to Moonstone & Jasmine how may I help—”

“Please,” she said, paying him little mind, “you must read the cards for me.”

Like he had said before, customers.

However, Anatole didn’t need to pick up on her words to notice the Countess was genuinely troubled by something, her comment on sleepless nights confirming his suspicion. So he decided to give her the benefit of doubt, instead of pinpointing the hour she decided to come at as a display of nobility’s entitlement.

The talk about his reputation was what shocked him the most, however. The temptation to dismiss her words as hyperbole was strong, but she sounded  too honest — a by-product of her state of necessity, Anatole thought, people tended to be worse at lying under pressure (How did he know that?).

When the Countess mentioned Anatole looked different in a dream she had, he speaks as if something had possessed him, having no idea he would speak until he did. “Do you possess any sort of clairvoyance, your Highness? I have a cousin who—”

He stopped as a throb made its way through the back of his head. As far as he knew, he didn’t have any family, he didn’t have anyone but Asra and a dead Aunt, but saying he had a cousin felt right in a way he couldn’t ignore. He had never been very good at lying to himself. Once he knew something was true, it cemented itself in his head, unshakable. He preferred it that way: falsehoods, even if lasting, crumbled. When you built with what was true, you built steady.

This felt like the truth, but was it? Was it a wish, or was it a lost piece of whomever he had been before? In the before he couldn’t remember?

Pushing his thoughts away, he said: “Excuse me, Countess. I forgot myself.”

“No matter. I come with a proposal.”

“I’m all ears.”

“Come to the Palace, and be my guest for a short while. You will be afforded every luxury, of course. I ask only that you bring your skill… and the Arcana.”

His first thought was ‘no’. His second, ‘absolutely not’. He had things! Plans! The only luxury he wanted right now was to be allowed to fill his after work hours as he saw fit. But this was a customer. They could use the money for supplies, and something told him — something he couldn’t pay any attention to right now, something inside of him he could only trust — the Countess was indeed in trouble. The kind of toruble where if he refused to help right now, he’d end up in the Palace anyway.

Sometimes it is better to cooperate with the universe; he had heard that somewhere, or perhaps from someone he couldn’t remember. Perhaps he read it. One way or another, now was not the time to mourn his plans.

“It’ll be an honour.”

“I will alert the guards to expect you tomorrow, but before that...”

Of course, she had come with a tarot inquiry, so Anatole redirected her to the backroom where readings and private consultations were held, finding himself face to face with Asra’s cards again.

He’d have to get used to their liveliness, sooner or latter. Unlike his own card, these spoke to you completely at random, compelling you to deliver their message, so you never knew if you were doing the reading or if the cards themselves were. Anatole didn’t love it, if he was honest. Nothing to do with the cards, though. It had everything to do with having asked Asra why do his cards work like they do, and Asra not giving him an answer which had fully made sense to him. 

He didn’t know what to make of the Countess as she talked to him about other times she had had her fortune read. His headache had moved from the back of his head to his temples. Familiar wasn’t the word for it, but she felt trustworthy, in an inconsequential sense. Like a coworker with good intentions but not enough turn out for his liking. He saw her out, opening the door for her, after her reading was done, still having not the faintest idea where on earth did he get such an impression from the Countess. He must’ve been reading too much, that was certainly it — too much politics before bed made Anatole a very imaginative man. 

As Countess Satrinava left, Anatole wondered if he should’ve told her anything about fees, at least as a joke. He wasn’t sure she’d appreciate the joke. 

He decided to brew something for his headache, worrying it might grow too big to sleep. Potions and brews had never been his strongest fort. He always needed to spend extra attention on them and their instructions, coming less organically than other forms of magic. Like languages. Languages were easy, even if messy sometimes. He still remembered one day, years ago, when he could speak nothing but a gibberish mess of Balkovian, Vesuvian and a very distant variation of Nopali. 

Still, it would keep his mind away from all the reputation talk the Countess had brought with her. He wanted to be convinced she must’ve been thinking about his aunt — Paris, that’s all Asra had told him — but Paris had been dead for even before his accident, so maybe... He took a breath, he was overthinking his way into a migraine again so he went back to his brew. 

He was missing enough of one ingredient, which meant he had to go to the Shop’s storage quarter, accessible only from outside and through the backdoor. As if anticipating his need, Antupillán, his familiar, fetched the keys for him and climbed onto his shoulder as Anatole made his way outside, looking for the sweet relief of willow tree bark. A victory which came at the price of getting his storage key stuck, fumbling for five minutes to unstuck it so he could go back inside. 

With all ingredients in front of him he could finally make himself a headache remedy. 

“Strange hours for a shop to keep,” said a muffled voice coming from somewhere, interrupting him.

If he got mugged, in his own house, he swore to everything he thought mattered in this world he’d spend the rest of his life finding whomever had come into his shop and making their lives miserable. He was sure no one had been around when he went retrieve the willow bark, Antu would’ve told him if there was someone. He was sure he had locked that door the moment he came in.

The thought that someone could’ve been staying in his own house, waiting for the right moment to strike made him sick, but mostly, angry. He knew he had a dagger somewhere in one of the drawers, if magic was not enough.

“Whomever it is, come out of where you are, and tell me what you want.”

“Behind you.” Anatole jumped back, giving himself more distance between this person, levelling a look to the red glasses the mask had for eye-sockets.

“So this is the witch’s lair… and who might you be?”

“Who’s asking?” He tried to sound as surefooted as possible, but the eye sockets of the mask were so vividly red, like a halo of auburn hair under the noon sun. His headache threatened to get stronger.

“I’m asking. I’d rather not do it again.”

The person lifted their hand, Anatole’s brain springing into action as it remembered the dagger was in the third drawer to the left. He lunged forward, he was quick with his feet he could just grab the dagger and protect himself with a shield if he— 

Instead of grabbing him, the stranger threw the mask to the floor. 

The flash of pain between his eyes, right where his nose begins was so intense it burned, making him wince. He patted the front table of the shop to hold onto something, fearing he will lose his balance and fall. He’s— he’s— he swears there’s a name on the tip of his tongue.

“As I suspected, shock, horror—”

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s etched on your face! The gruesome reaction of facing the murderer himself. Fear not, I do not care about you, I only want information, so if you stop fooling around and tell me where is the witch.”

“The whomst?”

The man blinked, confused for a flash before he scowled again.

“Where is the witch?”

Something inside Anatole clicked. He was too tired to deal with any of this. If the intruder wanted to attack him, he would’ve done so already.

“Listen,” he said, barking back at this person who had interrupted his evening. “I have a migraine right now, so I will need you to be a little more specific. Secondly, you come into my shop, demanding things without exaplanation, manifesting behind me, and I do have to tell you, even with a migraine, I’m probably better with sharp things than you are so stand back and give me a bloody fucking second, alright?”

It wasn’t a lie. Anatole had always been good with blades. It worried Asra, for a reason he had never explained, but Anatole didn’t think it was a problem.

“You know, if you’re really feeling ill, I’m a medically trained professional—”

“Did you seriously just offer me medical help after you tried to intimidate me for information.”

“I—I, look you don’t look well… wait, did it work? Are you telling me where he is?”

“What? No, no it didn’t. There’s a lot of people who go by ‘he’ this City.”

“Not even the murderer part worked?”

Anatole shot him a death glare that made his uninvited guest look away. After finally retrieving that damn dagger, which he did just in case, he set himself to prepare his migraine remedy.

“You’re the guy who’s wanted for murdering the former Count, right?” He asked as he worked.

“Yes?”

“Wasn’t the guy a bit of an incompetent despot? Created a sanitary emergency and ran the city’s coffers dry? I’m neither of those things, nor I plan to rat you out before you try that line of intimidation, because I’m not a snitch. So please, if you could be specific.”

The intruder did not reply, instead he looked at Anatole like he was the weirdest person he had ever met. He shook himself from it. “The witch, I’m looking for him and I know he lives here...”

“Since you have no clue who I am, I will reckon you’re talking about Asra. He left. Don’t know when he’s coming back, don’t know where he went.”

“But if you don’t know, and I don’t know… why don’t you ask your magic cards?”

God, this man didn’t give up. Normally, Anatole would appreciate that, give him at least some credit as an interesting enemy to run into in the night, but right now? Right now he wanted him to go away. “Because the shop is closed.”

“That’s what the backroom there is for, right? Look, I’m already inside.”

Despite himself, Anatole couldn’t find it in himself to say no, so with a hesitant nod, he left his conoction on the counter and showed his night-time guest to the backroom, but he insisted on Anatole going first. He did, as he didn’t have time for plesantries, though he had to admit, for someone who just broke into his home, he was being very polite.

As he dropped himself into the reading chair, Antu climbed onto Anatole’s lap, sitting there, a comforting presence amid his very annoying evening. He had been his constant companion for almost two years. Antu came in one day unannounced and hadn’t left Anatole’s side since.

“Is that a Raccoon?” The stranger asked, with eyes wide open as he tried to pet him. Antu bit the air in front of him before he could come too close. 

Not forgiven yet, Antu said at the stranger, though only Anatole could listen. 

Anatole smiled to himself, making a mental note to give him extra grapes later. “His name is Antupillán.”

To Anatole’s surprise, the stranger pronounced the name perfectly. “What does it mean?”

“Not many people pronounce that correctly, look at you. People accent it wrong,” he paused, in all honesty Anatole didn’t know what it meant. Yet, once more, he found himself speaking without knowing what he was about to say. “A ‘pillán’ is a spirit, an embodiment. Antu means sun in Mapudungún, so Antupillán is the spirit of the sun.”

Anatole felt his stomach drop as he awaited for the migraine that would inevitably blotch his vision with black spots. However, it never came, the misplaced information settling into him like a homecoming he was not yet able to process.

As Anatole shuffled the deck, the stranger looked friendly, almost awkward in an endearing way. 

“Go on. No need to be shy.”

“Says the man who refuses to give out his name. I need to know it for the ‘magic card reading’, you know?”

“Julian, you can call me Julian,” he said after some stammering and a scarlet blush on his cheeks. His eyes followed his movements as closely as they could, a nervous anticipation to them.

Anatole pulled Death. It was, in Asra’s deck, a particularly quiet card. The horse skull was quiet like someone who opened their mouth to speak, but couldn’t articulate any sound. He wondered if the card in his own Deck — Anatole’s Death major arcana was a moth person holding a mask and a scythe — could hold any answers, other than white noise. It was cheating, technically, but Julian called them ‘magic cards’, Anatole didn’t think he’d mind.

Before he could do anything, Julian laughed. “Death? That means nothing to me. Death cast her gaze upon this wretch and turned away! She has no interest in an abomination like me.”

"What? Julian this isn’t how—”

He stood up abruptly, his mouth seeming to run on automatic pilotwith fatalistic statements and Julian’s hunch that Asra would come back. Which he would, Anatole knew he would. Asra always came back.

Instead of Julian’s advice about seeking him out when Asra did come back, for ‘Anatole’s own good’, whatever that could mean from a fucking stranger, he thought he ought to have accepted the medical help. Perhaps that way, Julian would’ve left earlier and his headache would’ve been dealt with.

Later, as he laid in bed drifting to sleep, he thought Asra left that day not because it was best for a journey, but because he somehowknew all of this would happen and he didn’t want to deal with any of it. 

[sardonic-courtney]

Crowley x Reader. We Met Before. P3/7

Summary: You end up living with Bobby after your parents die. You go to church and meet Priest Crowley and you end up getting along (if you know what i mean). A few years later when Bobby passes you move the the bunker with Sam and Dean and end up meeting Crowley again.

Part 1  Part 2  Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Warnings: Mention of loss, Spelling mistakes, you go to church?

Around 2500 words.

Let’s Get Coffee.

“Yay thank you” You yelled heading up the stairs to get changed…

Training went well, although you didn’t really do much. Bobby who was still reluctant helped you to shoot inanimate objects and some basic hand to hand combat with no weapons, because in his words “you won’t always have a weapon on you so that’s the best place to start.” You are pretty sure it’s just because he is buying time before the brothers come into town so they can deal with the more athletic training. Not because Bobby wasn’t good, he was but he was quite impatient and not the best Teacher.

Time Skip to the Next Saturday Night brought to you by Juliet.

The last week consisted of a few training lessons here and there, you were starting to get really good with a gun, and to Bobby’s ‘luck’ he did some blade training and you actually weren’t half bad. Right now, you were eating takeaway, 8pm, on the sofa with Bobby watching some old tv show.

“So kid, Winchesters are coming round tomorrow. Want me to pick you up from church to save you walking so you can see the two idjits sooner, I know you miss them”. He said emphasising miss in a teasing manor.

“Oh yeah soo much” You replied rolling your eyes. “But no, I’m good, I’m actually going out after for some coffee”.

“So, you and Lena finally meeting outside of church?”

“Nope”

“Wait so who are you meeting with then? A new boyfriend of yours? If so, I want to meet him first.”

“What? No, I’m not completely sure, just a group of us meeting up after church.”

“What do you mean you don’t know. Who asked you? That old woman that lives next to the church because if so, I wouldn’t go she will just talk everyone’s ear of about her cats”

“No, the Priest actually just to share ideas about the bible after.”

“Right well err have a good time?” He replied unsure

“Thanks Bobby I’m gonna head up now and sort everything out and go to bed”

“Don’t use up all my water, I’ll see you after your coffee, call me if you want a lift.”

“will do, night”

“Night kid.”

*Beep Beep* Your alarm read 8:30 Sunday. You go up and got showered and dressed. You opted for an outfit which made you look good but it was still simple and casual, whether you were trying a bit harder because you were seeing Crowley or because the boys were coming you wouldn’t say. You grabbed an easy snack and decided to take the scenic route as you had 30 minutes to get there and you didn’t want to wait around. You arrived exactly at 9:32 and waited a few minutes before walking in, no sign of Lena anywhere, strange. Your seats however remained empty, so you sat once again on the seconded row back. Just as you received a message.

Lena- Sorry my mums not feeling well so I’ve had to take my brother to football. Hope service is good.

(Y/N)- No problem, have fun at football.

You replied before muting your phone and sliding it away just as Crowley came out.

“Good Morning…………………………………Thank you all for coming. Bless you all and I shall see you next week.”

Looking up at the clock reading 10:30, everyone stood up and headed out the door, you however being unsure of where you were going for coffee waited at the end of the pew, letting other passed. You didn’t really focus on the topic at hand but hoped you could blag your way through the teachings of rich man and Lazarus. As everyone left Crowley once again was behind you smiling.

“(Y/N) how are you?”

“Hi, I’m good thank you, how are you doing?” you reply, once again you feel strangely flustered.  

“Better now that’s over and we can go get coffee.”

“Oh yeah about that where are we meeting?”

“I was thinking the little café down 3 blocks over. Small and easy to find a table.”

“Mrs Wolowitz’s?”

“Yes, That’s it”

“I think I know the way; well you better go, and I’ll meet you guys there” You say about to head off.

“I’m sorry love, you must be mistaken I meant just the two of us. If that’s alright”

“Yeah no sorry that more the fine, I just assumed.” You stuttered out. You hadn’t meant to jump to a conclusion but that seemed more likely then just you two going out for coffee. Alone in a small café. Damn it (Y/N) stop thinking again.

“Do you want to follow me in my car? In case you get lost?”

“Oh um.” You awkwardly laughed. “I actually walk here so I’ll get it up on my phone”

“No, no don’t be stupid you’re going in my car.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude”

“No come on let’s go.”

The car ride was short and pretty much silent but not awkward. You were nervous but also happy you weren’t going to be stuck with a bunch of old Christians arguing about meanings. Before you got out the car, he took his clerical collar of leaving him in a normal black shirt. You got out, got a table and ordered your drinks, and reluctantly allowed Crowley to pay.

“So, Y/N how did you find todays service?” Crowley asked looking straight at you for an answer.

“Oh um, it was good” you replied suddenly feeling nervous and unsure of how to answer. You were sat in a café, with an attractive Pastor whose stare seemed to go straight through you.

“Anything to add? Any views on the passage?” Crowley said seeming slightly distracted.

“Not really no. Sorry maybe you start an idea and I’ll add?”

“I don’t really have any either, well to be honest with you I would rather get to know you then your views on the bible.”

“Me?” you smiled, this just got better now it’s apparent you probably aren’t going to be sat discussing the bible over the next half hour or so.

“Yes you” he replied a small smile resting on his lips.

“Well what do you want to know?” you didn’t really know what sort of thing to tell him so thought it best to just ask.

“Well how about we play a game?”

“A game?”

“Yes, a game, you know an activity one engages in for fun?” his smile turning slightly into a smirk.

“Oh, thanks I didn’t know what a game was, what sort of game?”

“I ask a question and you ask one back?” he paused “if you would like, if you wanted to sit around and talk about bibles, we could ask biblical ones”

“No normal questions are fine; you can start since I don’t know what games are” you say sarcastically.

Just then the waiter came and delivered your drinks, nodding his head slightly at your companion before he left. You took a sip of your drink as Crowley moved on; this wasn’t what you though this evening would be but it’s definitely an improvement.

“If you could go anywhere in the world where would you go?”

“(Y/A) {your answer}”

“Why?”

“It just seems perfect. I could see myself walking around and just admiring everything there you know?”

“Well hopefully one day you’ll go.” Crowley took a sip of his steaming drink and returned to looking at you. Really looking at you, it was weird, like he was genuinely interested in what you were saying. “I’ve been a few times and I must say the {landmark} is beautiful to visit.”

“One day I will see it, anyway you seem like you’ve been to loads of places where have you been?”

“Pretty much everywhere, I do enjoy travelling.”

“wow, I wish” you sigh out.

“Do you travel?”

“Not really, when I was younger me and my parents would move around America but that stopped a while ago.”

“Oh, how come?”

“They died so I moved in with my godfather and haven’t left town since, I know if he could we would go but he needs to stay here for work and everything and now I’m blabbing on again sorry.” You said it more as a fact mentally ready for the normal oh I’m sorry and what happened and are you okay to come.

“No don’t apologise I’m interested and I’m sorry to hear about them but your godfather sounds like a good man, and maybe one day you can travel again, maybe even the world, what do you plan on being in the future?”

“Definitely the plan, and I’m not sure yet. What about you have you always dreamed of being a pastor?”

“No, definitely not. I’m only a substitute pastor anyway if there’s such a thing.”

“what do you do then when you’re not?”

“I guess you could say I’m a businessman, I mainly make deals and such.”

“oh, is that why you always travel?” You say looking down at your drink and sipping.

“Exactly why my job requires a lot of popping to places. Now if you will humour me, I’m curious, you go to church but don’t seem completely religious, is that so?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t mean to offend you, but I notice you zoning out during teaching and you just seem… I don’t know how to put it.”

“Well if I’m honest I’m not sure about it really. The whole believing in God thing. I mean I’m sure he’s there, but I don’t think there’s much he can do.”

“So why go?”

“Well my mum used to always take me and well it makes me feel closer to her, I’m sorry if that offends you.”

“Not at all, not at all” he said a slight smirk on his face again.

This was weird, not in a bad way but weird. As the time passed, he started to become even less like a pastor and more like a friend. You continued sharing random stories finding out how he grew up in Scotland and all about his random like and dislikes. He was a nice guy and you no longer felt nervous. Time went by and you both ordered another drink. Now your cups were sitting empty and you were discussing what the best era would be to live through, when your phone beeps.

12:51

Bobby: Hey, hows the discussions going, what time do you think your going to leave I dont know if I can deal with them alone any longer and theyve only been here 3 hours as it is.

You: oh, sorry I didn’t realise the time, um ill finish my drink and leave soon. Tell them I say hi.

You slid your phone into you pocket and looked back up at Crowley. Wow you had been sat talking for over two hours.

“Everything okay?” he asked

“Yeah everything is fine just didn’t realise the time. Sorry I’m going to have to go in a minuet I have guests over and completely forgot.”

“No problem, would you like a lift back?”

“I can walk it’s fine.”

“Please at least let me drop you of at the church, I need to pick up some things there anyway.”

“Okay.”

With that the two of you got back into his car and arrived back at the church both getting out and standing in the completely deserted parking lot.

“Thank you for the lift, and the drinks.” You smiled checking you had everything and looking up at him.

“No problem I had a good time, and maybe if you would like I could get your number and we could do it again sometime, get to know each other a bit more, maybe over some food.”

If you didn’t know any better it would sound like a date offer, in fact part of you wishes it had been but pastors don’t date, do they?

“Yeah sounds good today was fun.” You grab your phone pulling up your number.

“I’m sorry that may not have been clear enough” he said looking at your phone and entering your number into his. “I was referring to going out on a date.”

“But you’re a priest?” you blurt out before thinking. Mentally slapping your head.

“A substitute priest love, and like you I don’t hold religion too close to my heart” he said chuckling and putting his phone away.

“Well in that case that sounds great. I better start heading back but text me.”

“I will, safe walk home, if you’re sure you don’t want a lift.”

“I’m sure, goodbye Crowley”

“Goodbye Y/N”

And with that you left. What just happened?

*Times Skip Home*

You walk through the door into the lounge greeted with the boys and bobby drinking beers and talking, coming to a halt when you walked in.

“Y/N, hey how have you been” Sam asks looking up at you smiling. Before you could answer Dean butted it.

“Y/N Bobby here tells us you’ve been out talking about the bible, please tell me you haven’t it’s like half one.”

“Nice to see you to Dean, and no I haven’t I met with a friend. I’m great thank you Sam, how are you?” you reply going to sit down before realising a pair of legs in the way. “Deans move your legs”

Reluctantly he swung them over the coffee table allowing you to sit down.

“Good thank you” you’re not sure if Sam would have continued but bobby spoke up.

“A friend? You said you were meeting with a group of you, lying, now are we?”

“what? No, I just got a bit confused we were going to talk about the service but we got distracted. But what’s more important is what you two have been up to.” You reply casually leaving out the fact you had spent the last two hours with a male and had half planned a date.

“No, what’s more important is you are 18. And we have something for you.” Sam said poking his head around Dean.

“Sammy’s right Dean said pulling something out his duffle bag. It was neatly wrapped and slightly battered around the edges. Sam definitely wrapped it.

“Guys you shouldn’t have.” You said unwrapping it. At first you saw a leather-bound book. It was bound with a rope wrapped around and decorated with a light house on the front.

“Open it up (Y/N/N)” Sam said.

Unwinding the rope, you opened it up to find postcards and pictures from the boys, all in Sam’s writing.

“We, well I thought you could have a journal to note down anything you want its always good to have one. The postcards and stuff are from each of the places me and Dean have been. We knew you wanted to go, and you always want to here stories so I thought it would be a good way to make it seem like you were there.”

“Sam it perfect thank you so much.” You stood up and hugged him before taking a seat back down noticing Dean had a scruffier package in his hand.

Accepting it and opening it Dean began.

“I’m not as thoughtful as Sam but I saw this, and thought would like it.”

It was a rope necklace with a stone on the end. Under the stone was a small piece of card with a handwritten message explaining the stones properties of protection and healing. You read it and put it on twiddling the stone in your fingers (You can change stone to your liking).

“It’s beautiful Dean thank you very much” you say leaning over to hug him.

“I’m glad” he says pulling back smiling.

The evening goes on, you order food and joke with each other, Bobby leaving to go to bed and the three of you falling asleep sprawled out on the couch and armchair around 11pm

Wow that was long and mainly build up, but don’t worry romance will be in the next one.  I hope you enjoyed this though, thanks for reading.

[nekowriteshaikyuu]

If only i did it sooner

it’s no use crying over spilled milk.

Pairing : hinata x reader

Warnings : angst, love triangle

Summary : it was the moment hinata decide to confess his love for you, only to realise you found someone already.

a/n : first angst akskjs. today was kinda rough for me so i hope this is one way to channel with this discomforting feeling in me T^T. but ! my bokuto jersey parcel came in the mail and i feel 10x better uwu . anyways, enjoy !

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ hinata shoyou ♥ 

you’ve known hinata shoyou ever since he bumped into you on the first day of school. Rushing to get to the volleyball gym, you both collided down the hallways, your papers flying everywhere. You and hinata picked up the scattered papers and just as your eyes met his, it clicked and you both were inseparable ever since. you’d eat lunch with him, wait for each other after school and maybe have a few after school outings together. That being said, it wasn’t long before hinata fell in love on you. The way your smile accentuates your face, the small giggle emitting from your mouth after he cracked a joke, your groggy face after waking up from a nap during class, he loves it all. He loves you. but despite his loud and outstanding demeanour, he can never bring himself to confess to you. Instead, he expresses his love with his actions.

giving you a shoulder to cry on, always taking care of your health and safety, he does whatever he could to express his love but still keep the friendship going. all this while, he’s been hoping for a day. a day to come where he can truthfully express his love for you, and hope that you’d return your love back to him.

and that day soon came along. he felt it. He could feel it. Today. Today has to be the day. The day where he’ll confess, where he’ll speak the truth, about how madly he’s in love with you.

Hinata pulled out his phone, dialing your number before placing it to his ear, waiting for the ringing tone to stop and hear your voice on the other line.

“shoyou ? ”

“y/n ! i’ve got something to tell you, is it okay if we meet after school ?” hinata fiddles with the hem of his jacket as he impatiently wait for your respond.

“definitely ! I’ve..got something to say to..heheh..can’t wait !” you end the call and hinata was already jumping in mid air, he could almost touch the ceiling fan. when the bell rang, he carefully watch the clock slowly tick. he watched it in every lesson, not giving a single attention to the open textbook laying on his desk. when the last bell rung, he was already packing his things, shoving it to his bag before darting out the classroom.

He runs down the stairs, a hand gliding on the railings to be safe in case he’d miss a step and tumble down. he soon reached the spot you’ve both be meeting at, looking both his sides to see if you’re around there already.

soon enough, you appeared. his eyes widened with stars shining in them. even with you just in the school uniform, you look absolutely stunning. your smooth, silky hair was eye catching. How it rested on your shoulders perfectly. he couldn’t resist smiling as you slowly made your way to him.

“ shoyou ! hey, how have you been ?” you asked. he eagerly replied, looking as bright as ever. you took note on how he was more excited than usual. it could either be he did a really good spike or got the last meat bun before it was sold out. but there wasn’t any volleyball practice nor was he in the cafeteria, which got you curious to why he’s really happy.

“you look extra happy today, something’s going on, huh huh?” you elbowed him slightly, teasing him which brought him to blush a little. he bit his bottom lip, hesitating to speak out what’s on his mind.

“y/n..” he avert his eyes to his shoes, fiddling with them while the grip on his bag tighten. he let a sigh, before looking back up, hoping to find courage in your eyes to let him speak up.

“y/n, i li-“

“y/n, there you are.” a familiar voice intervened. his head spun around, only to realise the setter, kageyama tobio standing behind him. hinata watch as he slowly made his way to your side, before planting a small kiss to your cheek. his heart was practically screaming in pain now.

“kageyama, why you-“

“oh, right ! i wanted to say i got together with tobio-kun !” you intertwine your hands around kageyama’s, resting your head on his shoulder with a huge smile pasted on your face. hinata was in disbelief. it can’t be. why, why him?

“jeez, relax dude. it’s not like y/n’s your sister.” kageyama added. you were busy having small talks with kageyama, not noticing hinata’s high and jumpy expression slowly fading away.

“oh ! what was it you wanted to tell me, shoyou ? “ you recalled. hinata only looked down, holding back the tears that were in the midst of streaming down his cheeks. you patiently waited for his reply, and he only looked up, giving you the same smile he always did. it felt off, like he’s doing it out of force. 

“shoyou-”

“it’s alright ! i kinda forgot myself, heheh. i should get going, i’m happy for you two ! hope all goes well.” he turned, walking far away from the both of you, not even turning back to wave goodbye once more.

as soon as he’s far from sight, he stopped walking. Clenching his heart, he began to cry, mewling in pain as he slowly crouch down. the ache in his heart began to build up, the feeling of his heart shattering into pieces. he tried to stop the tears, but it just kept falling. he felt as if his whole life shattered. just to know you chose the setter over him, he’s in agony.

he wiped the tears with his sleeves, damping it over and over again. he slowly stood up, holding onto the concrete wall beside him to keep him stable.

“it’s okay..” he assured himself. hinata continue to slowly make his way back home, still feeling the ache lingering.

if only, if only he were to scrap his timid-ness and confess, he wouldn’t be in this much of despair.

------𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕥𝕒 𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕪𝕠𝕦------

a/n : so- exams are in 4 weeks time:// i have not done any proper revisions which i should really start doing but just a quick heads up if i haven’t post for more than a week or two. i’ll still be open for requests, so feel free to send in some :))

[sleephyjhs]

You Have First Trimester Sickness (REACTION)

[ requested by @sweetbtsboys / masterlist ]

possible tw :: pregnancy sickness

a/n :: it’s gonna be a long one guys, hope you’re strapped in

KSJ

The excitement of learning you were expecting your first baby with Seokjin was soon followed by the dismal sickness caused by the surge of new hormones. You knew it was inevitable, however you never expected it to be as vile as you had experienced.

You had been sat in your en suite with your husband for the past hour, vomiting at irregular but frequent intervals. In the minute he had left to grab you a scrunchie for your hair, you’d somehow become more sick. As he sat back down and tied your hair for you, you questioned him as if he was supposed to know more than you.

“Is it normal to be this sick? One of these minutes I might just throw up my stomach.” You huffed, leaning back into his shoulders. Jin rubbed circles across your knuckles to comfort you, which any other time would have worked a lot better.

“Would you like to go and see a doctor? It’s always worth asking, jagi. Maybe they can give you something for it?” You tilted your red-tinted face to look him in the eyes. A few weeks prior, you had together agreed to do whatever was best for your growing baby. Maybe seeing a healthcare professional was best.

“Let me get myself together first. I can’t travel like this, Jin.”

“No worries, take your time.” He assured you, wrapping his long fingers around the hand he held so tightly.

MYG

When you were younger, you often heard that most women experienced pregnancy sickness in the morning. Cut to 11pm, when your body’s contents threatened to exit through your mouth, you began to realise most pregnancy expectations were going to become lies.

As you presumed your partner Yoongi was fast asleep, you couldn’t resist letting a few burning tears slip down your cheek and onto the tile flooring. You were overjoyed at the bundle of joy growing inside of you, but the gruelling process of carrying them around was proving to be slightly overwhelming for you.

“Can I get you anything?” You snapped your head around to find Yoongi crouching in the doorframe. Although he looked tired, it was obvious his concern for you.

While thinking of an answer, you swept away your tears believing there was a possibility he hadn’t seen them. Your hoarse throat made it clear how sick you really were, “Can you just stay for a while?” All of your willpower couldn’t stop your bottom lip from quivering as you made your request.

“Let it out, honey. It’s okay.” Yoongi assured you, writhing his arm around your curled shoulders. Knowing it would make you feel even worse, you let your pent up emotions flood from your eyes, “We’re going to get through this. Although it might not feel like it right now, you are more than capable of doing this.”

JHS

It seemed every 10 seconds you checked the time on your phone. Impatiently, you waited for your newly-wed husband, Hoseok, to finish his dance practice. Only 15 minutes remained, but you needed his help and comfort desperately.

You felt selfish that you needed Hoseok as much as you did, despite both him and the members telling you that you didn’t need to. He knew that you could become overwhelmed and panicked easily, and had told you it was never a problem for him to leave his schedule earlier to make sure you were okay and safe.

Rapidly, your sickness became unbearable. You felt as though a crossroads had been placed before you, and moving on from today’s sickness episode would be impossible. Although hesitating, you reached for your phone and dialled Hobi quicker than you ever had before.

By the time he had picked up, your heart had increased in speed, leading your hands to shake violently, “What’s up, angel?”

His chirpy response disheartened you, as you knew your low state would convert it into plain panic, “When will you be home? I need help clearing up and getting myself from the floor.”

You rushed your words into one breath, but before you could even finish, Hoseok had begun to reassure you, “Okay, don’t worry, I’m coming. Do you need anything on the way home? Stay on the phone with me, it’ll seem like I’ll get there sooner. You’re okay honey, you’re okay.”

KNJ

“Okay, I think I’m alright for a while.” You told Namjoon. He offered you both of his hands to help you up from the bathroom floor where you had sat for a generous period of the morning. Although you were heading quickly for your second trimester of pregnancy, your morning sickness was still very much prevalent.

“You seem to be a lot better today.” Namjoon pointed out to you, rubbing your shoulders as you turned to wash your hands, “Maybe the twins are making your sickness last longer?”

You really hoped that wouldn’t be the case. Putting up with constant vomiting for 14 weeks was enough, you couldn’t bear the thought of a whole 9 months of it.

As you dried your hands on the towel, you heard Namjoon begin to stammer over his words, “Did you want any vanilla ice cream?”

You couldn’t help but furrow your brows. It was a confusing question at least, “It’s only 7am, Joonie.”

“I know, but it can help your throat burn a little less. It’s worth a try, I know how much you hate mornings like this.” In no time after you agreeing to the sweet treat, Namjoon had already grasped your hand and had begun leading you towards the kitchen.

PJM

In less than half an hour, you and your husband, Jimin, were expected at the last apartment viewing you had booked. With your first baby arriving later that year, you had mutually agreed that more space would be needed. Where you lived now was just too small to raise a little kid.

Every morning that week, you had managed to avoid throwing up in the morning. Wrongly, you had convinced yourself your morning sickness had finally left. However as you applied your blush to the apples of your cheeks, the same doomed urge stormed through your stomach, and you had no choice than to retreat to the bathroom.

“Angel? Are you nearly ready? We should be leaving soon-“ Jimin’s reminders were cut short by a deep sigh. He bent down to your level and swept your falling hair back behind your ear, only to pin it to your head using his finger, “I thought we were past this?”

“So did I,” you replied, refusing to meet his eyes in case of an emergency, “Why did this have to happen today?”

“I can cancel it if you’re not up to it.” You refused before he had finished his sentence. You had to move soon, there was no choice around it, “Do you need some help clearing things up?”

You nodded, kneeling back onto your heels. Now you’d have to rush your makeup as well as tidy yourself up again. In a brief pause to glance at your appearance in the mirror, Jimin came to your side and lifted the blush brush you had dropped, “I know you precise you are with your makeup. I’ve got it covered.”

KTH

It was your last day in Europe with Taehyung, and already you felt guilty it had to begin this way. Your vacation to Vienna would be the last as just a couple, as three months ago you learned you were expecting your first child with your husband, Taehyung.

Prior to your vacation, you believed you had avoided morning sickness altogether. It surprised you that you hadn’t experienced any ill feelings, but relieved you nonetheless. Taehyung had joked your body knew that your fun vacation was coming to an end and so was hurling the worst at you.

“Tae, I can’t board a plane like this. I get travel sickness anyway-“ You sobbed into his chest. At that point in time, leaving the bathroom was out of the question. Nothing could have prepared you for the vile feeling that was brought along with the sickness you felt.

“My love, we don’t really have the choice. It’s gonna be a rough journey but hey, we’ll be home before you know it. And then you’ll be able to get much more comfortable which is better for you and our baby, right?”

He was right, but even his encouraging words couldn’t make today appear any easier to you, “Just.. why today? It couldn’t have been tomorrow or any time in the near future, it had to be today.”

Taehyung thought for a moment while caressing your hand with his fingers, “The way I see it, little one is just letting you know how comfortable of a home you’re giving them. Perhaps not in the most gracious way, but they have to get the message to us somehow.” You couldn’t help but giggle at his interesting analysis of your baby’s signals to you, “You can get through this, for them and for me.”

JJK

Winter sun filtered through a split in the curtains and onto the bed where you laid wrapped in your partner’s arms. You’d been awake for several minutes, but you couldn’t bring yourself to disturb Jungkook’s sleep on purpose. Comeback season always left him particularly exhausted.

However you also knew that it wouldn’t be long until your routine morning sickness would force you from your warm sheets.Although your symptoms were a lot less violent than they were a few weeks ago, you still dreaded the mornings. Before long, you couldn’t control the urge to vomit any longer and tried to leave Jungkook’s arms.

In a sleepy daze, thinking you were playing with him, Jungkook groaned playfully as he tightened his grip, “Kook, you have to let me go. I’m serious, I’m gonna throw up.” He sat up quickly as you rushed away into the bathroom, and were soon joined by a half-asleep husband.

He yawned swiftly before pulling your scrambled hair from your face, “You should’ve woken me up before, you sound even worse than before.”

A brief pause in vomiting allowed you to explain yourself to him. You knew well that he didn’t like when you hid your hardships from him, “You were out cold last night, it’s obvious you’re exhausted. I’m okay, this is normal.”

Jungkook’s eyes fell at your selfless reasoning. While still holding your hair in one hand, he moved to sit behind you and rested his chin on your shoulder, “Don’t worry about me. I can always go back to sleep. You’re the one carrying precious cargo.”

^ thank you for your kind request! 💕

[thelightofthingshopedfor]

just once, just fucking once I would like to have a reasonably productive long weekend instead of spending most of it too stuck in decision paralysis to actually do much of anything until I reach a point where I feel like I could very well break down crying because I’m too overwhelmed with everything I need to do but I still don’t actually do most of it because the decision paralysis is a huge part of what makes me so fucking overwhelmed in the first place

like. right now probably the most urgent thing is a semi-complicated Etsy commission that the buyer would ideally receive by Dec. 10, which probably means sending it Dec. 7 at the absolute latest. so I should be working on that, right? but it’s going to take a while so it’s a time commitment, especially because it seems kind of pointless to get out a lot of messy supplies to only work on it for a few minutes. and I need to order parts for a different order--well, at least that’s quick. I also really need to reapply thermal paste to my CPU as soon as I can because I think the fan’s getting louder and that can’t be good for anything in there, and theoretically it won’t be that hard, but realistically I’m sure it’s going to take a while and I have to look up a little info on how to do it, first--and it involves my PC being out of commission while I’m working on it, so that’s not something I can do halfway. and while my PC’s open I really need to replace my dead hard drive, which wouldn’t be that hard except I want to install the new one alongside the old one so I can try to clone the dead one onto the new one, which will definitely take time on both the hardware and software sides of things, but it needs to happen sooner rather than later because, again, there’s a lot of stuff I can’t do until I get that done. and I need to send the recent invoices for Hazy’s dental appointment to pet insurance to see if they’ll pay anything, and that should be quick, but nothing ever stays simple. and, shit, I should really do some actual work this weekend because I didn’t get enough done before...and I still need to decide what to do about the vision therapy thing now that it’s clear the best they can do for me is a payment plan for like 36 expensive appointments, ugh. and ah shit I signed up for Yuletide and I’ve done almost nothing, and that’s due...Dec. 17? fuck, that reminds me, I gotta go get a new notebook from my room because I just finished this one, I mean that’s quick and easy but it also means I now have two notebooks that mostly aren’t typed up, which is bad because I can’t do anything with the contents until they’re typed up and of course they’re not backed up (unless I put them in my fireproof safe, and then I’d never get them typed), and typing those is going to take forever, and yeah I’ve been meaning to make it easier on myself by just doing like 15 minutes a day but I haven’t done that at all and they really need to get typed--and, well, I could just do a 15-minute stint, sure, but that seems silly when there’s so much that needs to be done--and, ugh, I’ve sorta been ignoring my email for the last three days and I need to go through that because otherwise I’m guaranteed to miss something I won’t want to miss, but that takes time and it’s going to mean opening up more tabs when there are already too many tabs open (there are always too many tabs open) and I need to deal with those too, and a good share of the emails are probably about Black Friday sales that I’ll probably want to do but that means more tabs and more decisions and shit there’s all that stuff in my Etsy cart that I should really buy sooner rather than later because sometimes Etsy stuff disappears or sells out and then I’ll be sad and frustrated with myself and also some of the things I want to buy are for gifts, which reminds me that I have almost no Christmas gifts yet for anybody, and my birthday is soon so I should probably make some kind of list myself but actually why am I focusing on that at all when the Georgia runoff elections that determine Senate control are in barely more than a month and I need to be writing letters/postcards to voters since I don’t want to phonebank and time zones actually make it really impractical anyway? I was going to do that in a reasonable way this time too, just a few letters a day like I meant to before, use up a lot of these stamps and stuff I still have--and ah fuck it’s been a while since I’ve called my own legislators about anything, I need to do that, that’s theoretically quick because voicemails cut me off at two minutes, although to be able to do that I also have to do at least a little research so I know what’s the most important thing to call about and what to say so that’s more tabs and more time, and I still haven’t fucking reposted the tiny little Endgame fix-it fic I wrote at the end of August, let alone finished anything since then

and I would, on some level, like to work on one of the many, many writing projects that is theoretically close to being done, or one of the recent ones I started because I foolishly and incorrectly thought it was something I could bang out quickly

and on some level I would also like to work on more stuff for Etsy that could be pre-made so it’s not another stress point when I get orders, especially because several things are holiday-specific and some wouldn’t even take that long, but I’d still be choosing to do those instead of more urgent things

and none of that even begins to touch other stuff, like my room that continues to be a disaster and I need to sort through my shit so I know whether I can relist my most popular Etsy item (if I even want to, which I don’t right now because stress), not to mention all the stuff I need to clear out by listing on eBay, and I could do at least one part of that (flatten the boxes I’ve saved for shipping) without committing to a week-long project but even that part would take a solid chunk of time that I should be spending on something more urgent

and we can’t even put up the fucking tree until I move some of my shit away from the spot where the tree goes, which is tough because a lot of it is from work or otherwise theoretically temporary stuff that doesn’t have an actual home, so that’s going to take a while, and then putting up the tree is also going to take a while, and my room is already a disaster so I’d need to clean in there to make room, which would take forever, and for that matter my areas of the living room are generally a disaster too, as always

and while I’m thinking about stuff I brought from work, let’s go back to how I need to do some work stuff because I’m lucky enough to have a decent job with good insurance that can be done from home and I’m still just like...kiiiiiiinda endangering that by not being a functional adult in general? which is at least partly because my brain is a dumpster fire that doesn’t seem to be improving (which is something else to worry about) but regardless of the cause I still have to do something about it? oh yes and speaking of the good insurance I’m kinda endangering by being a fuckup, haha sure hope this knot under my jaw doesn’t turn out to be...you know, the type of bad thing that a knot under the jaw could turn out to be! which is another very good reason I need to stop being a fuckup so I’m not maybe endangering the job that would pay for that, along with all my other medical issues! and also the entirety of our rent because my mom’s really high-risk and the only available jobs she’s qualified for aren’t safe for her to do!

and my knee hurts! and my elbow hurts! and my neck fucking hurts, my head and neck always hurt and I think I’ve been sleeping even worse than usual lately, partly because neck pain and partly just my body fucking hates me, it’s always a problem and I don’t know what to do about it anymore

and now it’s after 8:30 pm and obviously I’ve done none of this, and I’m still tired, and my head and neck still hurt, and there are still so many things I need to do but I can’t choose because the time-consuming things are the urgent ones but I don’t have the time or energy for them and choosing a specific thing (an urgent time-consuming thing, or a less urgent but much quicker thing) means actively choosing not to do one of the other things, and it’s all important, and I can’t fucking choose, and I’m pretty much at a point where I can continue running ever more painful and crazy-making circles in my brain trying to make myself decide something or I can say “fuck it” and do something that would be fun but not urgent or important at all, which I shouldn’t do, so for fuck’s sake I should just pick even one productive thing to do and then maybe let myself do something fun and then get to bed at a good time for fucking once but I still can’t fucking choose and I want to either cry, scream, or possibly hurt myself, and none of this is healthy or productive

and I think possibly my therapist is getting impatient with me for not making much progress and not really having specific goals for our sessions aside from “I hate that my brain is Like This and I want it to not be Like This and no I haven’t done most of the things you’ve suggested and no I don’t have a good reason why, I just want the meds to work so everything won’t be so fucking hard and yes I know that wouldn’t be something you could control even if it was in your wheelhouse, which it isn’t, but I get overwhelmed so fast and I know I need to do better and be better but I don’t know how”

and I wrote this instead of actually doing anything, apparently, because there was at least some chance that dumping it all out would make me feel better or help me see more clearly what I actually need to do, but I think I actually made myself feel worse by articulating just how overwhelmed I am, mostly by things that objectively aren’t actually that difficult or important.

and I still can’t fucking choose.

[mxndanemagic]

“Were you aware the average amount of blood in an adults body can be about over one gallon? It doesn’t sound like a lot now does it, High Priest Lawrence?” A soothing voice is accompanied by gentle movements as she cradles the hand of a bounded man. 

His eyes dart in every direction they’re capable of - trying to piece together a sense of his whereabouts. Where were his guards? How did he miss sight of an intruder? The soft hums from a face that seemed familiar has him further on edge. Shouldn’t that woman be dead? An old reminder of the son that brought shame to their family name. No. This wasn’t her...she wasn’t-

“Evelynn.” He speaks up. “You must be something to that half-witch.” Despite being tied down on a concrete table, rendered harmless, and shaking with fear moments ago- the High priest still managed to speak with disdain. The woman’s humming continues, now entertaining herself with examining the joints in his fingers. How far could they bend? He can guess the question is dancing about in her thoughts. Yet when her eyes snap open, looking his way - the captive warlock finds he can’t say another word. A sinking feeling blankets over him at the sight of red. A shade of red he’s seen before. A sign of giving up too much to the taboo within their craft. 

“You’re right. I’m not your ambitious grand-daughter. She’s still decomposing who knows where. Mother never told us where they buried the ol’ girl.” 

“I’m not someone you’d particularly have any memory of. That’s fine since it made catching you off guard much easier than I assumed. You knew of my research yet were careless to leave all your dirty work to people who’d sooner than later want you dead.” 

A look of surprise flicks over her face, dropping hold of his hand. “How rude of me. You really have no clue as to who I am, do you? Just a clue to someone we used to know.” 

Lawrence's own expression narrows into frustration, spitting out impatience with his demands. “Speak clearly, witch. Tell me who you are and stop playing around-” A strangled pained cry cuts off his anger, the sound of cracking bones is heard throughout the room. He can feel the sharp, stabbing pain from the fracture as the witch lets out a sigh. 

“It’s not nice to raise your voice at others. You’re not exactly in a position to be ordering someone around.” She lectures. “Maybe I should have been a little more direct.” A kind smile that doesn’t go along with her actions or words is displayed. “I’m Evee’s grand-daughter. Ella Nowell. We’ve met before but I know I appeared differently than as to how I now look.” she explains. “It’s so nice to see you again.” 

Her words sounded genuine and sincere but a familiar look doesn’t miss his gaze. A hunger he can recognize easily. The need for power and a desire to play judge and executioner. 

“You want to make me laugh, little witch? A fracture won’t keep you safe. Those loyal to me will find you but I’ll free myself long before then. Your punishment will be agonizing and slow, hellion.” He threatens with a confident grin. A smug expression that falters within a second as he his head is harshly shoved back, struggling to breathe as fingers clutch around his neck and clawed fingers dig in to draw blood. 

Those red eyes bore into his own startled face - no time to react when Ella is swift to thrust her hand out to strangle him. The smile she wore is long gone, replaced by a calm fury watching him like he spoke out of line. 

“...And I’m gonna kill you.” 

He really must have been a stupid person. Ella had been careful with everything. Take out his security, assure no one saw her or knew she’d be going after the hated man. His corruption and cruelty would be no more. Lawrence was a careless old fool. Not even noticing that his bountiful reserves of magic were being drained when she held his hand in a comforting manner. He may view her grandmother as a failure but Ella would succeed in what Evelynn couldn’t do. Releasing her grip, Ella lets the High Priest gasp for air and try to steady his breathing. It’d be disappointing to dispose of him so quickly. 

“Didn’t mean to get ahead of myself. Can’t have you dying yet - not from crushing your windpipe anyway.” she chuckles. “You’re without any magic to take me on. Quite telling of your perceptiveness - well lack of it that is.” Circling the table, the witch stops behind his head. “Where should we start? What could you endure?” 

Is she asking him or wondering aloud? The warlock can’t distinguish and simply watches as snow white hair drapes over when she looks down at him. “You’ve never hurt anyone before have you?” he taunts. “I have nothing to fear then. You’re an amateur at best.” 

“Hm, you’re not wrong but I’ve tried getting some practice in and if I’m being honest - I don’t like that underestimating look you’ve been giving me. Why don’t we pluck those eyes right out~?” Ella suggests. One hand holds his head still while the others hovers over his face - fingertips nearing an eye. Without hesitation the clawed tips plunge into the socket, gaining a thrash from the other as they cry out in pain. The witch doesn’t cease and continues to tugging and digging at the eyeball. “Stay still will you? The eye isn’t an easy thing to yank out.” she frowns only to give a forceful tug of her hand back and smile at the sound of something snapping. 

There went one eye falling to the ground. Satisfaction displays across her face, admiring the results. “You can keep the other. Can’t have you not witness everything you’re about to go through, hm?” 

“I took pointers and asked around about the best tools for this kind of thing. What was it you were saying earlier? Something about having me punished slowly?”  

“What of it you damned halfling?” Lawrence lets out a venomous sneer back at her. 

“That’s High Priestess to you and as for slow and agonizing-” A sweep of her hand in front of his neck is given. “I believe quick and efficient is how things should be done. Like you said I’m not much of a tormenter when it comes to lowly bugs.” 

The sensation of a slit forming across skin dawns on the man, the cut on his neck is deep - blood beginning to seep out. Head careening back and soon falling back with tumble as it’s decapitated with a clean slice. 

Ella observes the head for a moment, glancing between the body and it’s detached part. “What an unpleasant man.” strolling over to the head, Ella picking it up with ease only to toss it into the air. With a short incantation the body part is engulfed in a burst of flames and leaving only ashes behind. 

“You had quite the run High Priest Lawrence...but things must change for the better. May your soul continue to be tormented as your life continues as a bitter wraith in the forest. Witches will no longer have to fear your tyranny.” 

[risingsouls]

Recruited: Chapter 6

[I love these dorks and I’m glad I finally got to write them having a fairly proper conversation in this verse. Two dumbasses “bonding” the best way they know how.]

VEGETA

"I don't need an escort. You know I'm perfectly capable of handling myself," Nabooru informed him for the fifth time in an hour. She leaned down and plucked a gold tube from a lower shelf, turning it over between her fingers and examining it. Vegeta glanced at the tag: lip color. If this trip accomplished anything, it would end her whining about running out of makeup. "Epecially if I have to listen to you sigh or see you roll your eyes every time I enter a new shop. Why don't you go enjoy yourself? These are your days off, too."

He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the nearby wall. One of the few in the cramped store devoid of product. At least the other patrons knew to give them a wide berth, and if they didn't, a displeased glare sent them on their way. "Quit saying that. For the last time, it's not a matter of your ability to take care of yourself. The worst that will happen to you on one of these resort planets is you'll go broke from gambling and wasting your money or drink yourself to death, and I couldn't care less if you do either of those things." He huffed. "I'm here to make sure you don't get lost or do something stupid."

It wasn't a complete lie. More commonly referred to as pleasure planets, these particular prospects in the Cold Empire were set aside specifically for commerce, recreation, and leisure, especially for soldiers and others employed by the Cold family. Cut into sprawling districts--business, recreation, lodging, and headquarters--it was easy for even those familiar with the ins and outs of the hubs to wind up turned around and in a less than optimal situation. Protocol for who could set up shop was loose, the vetting process quick and simple with few questions asked for lack of time. While he had surmised Nabooru was intelligent, strong, and savvy enough to avoid too much trouble on her own, inexperience in navigating the finer and more nuanced aspects of resort planets would be her downfall. The last thing he wanted was to clean up her messes on top of the trouble Nappa and Raditz would no doubt cause in the next three days.

"Mm, so you just have nothing better to do, huh?" She popped the lid off the tube and observed the blood red shade revealed. "Three days of endless liquor and sex isn't your thing?"

Vegeta grimaced. "Tch. Obviously not. I have standards unlike the other two."

"Following me around while I shop is a better option?" she asked, hint of a smirk on her lips.

"Yes," he replied bluntly. She tossed the tube into her basket resting over her forearm and moved on to the next shelf. He followed. "You've seen how they get. It's deplorable."

Nabooru lifted a bottle of what he guessed to be a perfume of sorts and lifted the nozzle to her nose. She sniffed and it immediately crinkled at the bridge, her expression one of disgust. He mentally thanked her for not spraying to test it; if she looked about to retch, his sensitive nose would have him seeking refuge in the crowded streets. 

"Mm, they remind me of my best friend back home. She liked to spend her free time similarly, and tried to drag me along with her more than a few times." 

She blinked and realization flashed across her features, followed by a frown and a hint of regret in her golden eyes. Her attachment to her home world was still far too fresh, he noted. The wound had yet to scar over. Memories still made her long for what she could no longer have. Vegeta could relate to some degree, and the pesky what if thoughts still plagued him from time to time concerning his planet and race. He pushed them away as quickly as they spawned; he had no room for such sentimentality, and the sooner she realized the same, the better off she would be.

"What do you like to do for fun, anyway?"

Vegeta's gaze shifted over to the woman when addressed once more. She had moved to the next section, the action escaping his notice while he considered how her emotions would hinder her performance. "Fun," he repeated with a snort. "As if I have time for fun. At least not by most people's definition of it."

"Try me. And I did ask for your definition of it. It's not embarrassing or something, is it?"

"Of course not," he growled. "The only fun I have typically is in training or finding some poor sap on base to spar, and even then I can only fit in a few hours at best between missions and preparing for them."

Nabooru laughed softly and added another item to her basket. "I never thought I'd say it, but we actually have something in common, Vegeta." She winked from behind the orange glass of her scouter and sauntered up to the counter, unperturbed by the grunt the four-armed cashier gave her. "I hardly ever wanted to do anything that wasn't related to my training or combat. It's where I thrived and felt most alive. Even when I was injured, I was reading about other styles or strategies, observing the others while they trained, or trying to sneak a session or two in without anyone noticing. Like you, I wish I had more time for it…you guys weren't kidding when you said we stay busy."

"Hmpt…" Vegeta watched her complete the transaction with the clerk, the process of paying with her credits sticking after he impatiently taught her in the last store. He kept it to himself, but he could respect that in her. If it stuck in a new environment, she could prove more useful to him than he imagined. And with a perhaps similar soreness toward Frieza and the empire as his that could potentially grow with time…

The pair left the shop and returned to the streets, squeezing past milling passerbys and other shoppers hurrying to find the best deals. Distracted by hoots and hollers meant for the Gerudo and discouraging the annoyance with a snarl, the Saiyan nearly collided with Nabooru's back when she halted suddenly, a display in the window catching her eye. 

He cursed under his breath and followed her gaze to understand what she found so interesting as to nearly cause a collision. On the other side of the glass was a hodgepodge of weapons on display, some he recognized from conquered planets and others foreign and strange. He snorted when he realized where her focus lay: a pair of curved blades resting at the hips of a gaudily dressed mannequin. 

"Swords, woman? You don't need them."

He didn't miss the twitch of her fingers at her side. The tense of her jaw and fire in her eyes. "I know that. Before I learned to use ki, swords like this were my weapon of choice, and--" She cut herself off, shooting him a glare. His smirk widened. "I didn't expect to see something like them here, that's all."

Despite her ill temper, she returned her gaze to the swords. Likely considering purchasing them just to spite him, if Vegeta had to guess. Or lost in memories of her past. Perhaps he would have enjoyed time with Nappa and Raditz if she was going to be bogged down by her damn emotions.

"You can create those with ki."

"What?"

The words left his mouth before he realized he vocalized them, and her confusion proved contagious for a moment. "Ki swords. I've seen it done." He folded his arms. "Why don't you try to figure it out? They would be far more effective than those."

She observed him with narrowed gaze for several seconds before humming and returning her attention to the blades. "It would take quite a bit of control to make them hold their shape. I would want it to look right and not just be shapeless," she mused, raising her hands and flexing her fingers and curling them back into her palms. He saw her eyes shift back to him in the reflection of the glass, suspicion apparent in her pursed lips and hooded eyes. "Why would you suggest it if you think weapons like that are stupid?"

Vegeta scowled, his tail tightening around his waist. "Anything to get your mind off a home you'll likely never see again. It's a waste of your time and energy. A weakness you can't afford," he hissed, ignoring her flinch and the glare that followed. "Besides, if it's a style you're used to, it will only make you more effective in battle." A smirk curled his lips. "And watching you slice people in half might be entertaining. If you're up for the challenge of mastering it, that is."

Nabooru remained silent for a beat longer, chewing her lower lip in thought or perhaps as a measure to keep her from picking a fight with him in such a crowded area. Not that he wouldn't welcome a brawl. Finally, she turned on her heel and began her procession up the street again, spine rigid and chin aloft in stubborn defiance. "Maybe I will. And I'll do it better than anyone else has before me."

"Right. I'll believe it when I see it," he said with a snort.

Nabooru shifted the bags on her arm, but kept her back to him. "I'm going back to my room." She tossed her hair over her shoulder and twisted her head to the side to meet his gaze. "I don't need an escort for a nap, do I? Unless you know some soothing lullabies to sing for me."

Vegeta rolled his eyes. "Go. You're beginning to annoy me anyway."

"We're on the same page then."

He didn't get a chance to sling any clever retorts back at her as orange energy enveloped her as she took off into the sky, leaving the Saiyan amongst the rabble and agitated. And, even as he headed off himself and locked himself away in his own temporary quarters, he couldn't shake it with any amount of pacing or idle research on his scouter. With Nappa and Raditz, he decompressed within moments when they pushed his buttons. But Nabooru seemed to possess a particular knack for getting under her skin. But why? Was it that her power was similar to his own? Him being unused to his subordinates speaking to him as she did? Should he teach her a lesson? Would that do much unless he outright killed her? Was it worth the effort when, deep down, he knew she hadn't done anything especially egregious to warrant the harshest of punishments? Not that he needed a reason to kill anyone. Frieza would likely shrug it off himself. But she had proven herself an asset, powerful and efficient. Capable of completing whatever task she was given despite her moral hang ups to them. Was his agitation worth ridding himself of her, then, when she could aid him in killing Frieza?

His grip on the windowsill tightened and he grit his teeth. The fur on his tail stood on end. Damn her. She danced on the fine line between insubordination and compliance, being a nuisance and a competent warrior, too well.  Flawed, but too valuable for him to kill. If he could find some reason that she deserved it…

Vegeta shook his head and scrubbed a hand over his face. He crossed the room to his bed and stretched out on it, closing his eyes. He hated it, but wasting his time searching for reasons to off the damnable woman was counterproductive. If they existed, they would show up on their own. Or she'd wind up dead on some mission or incur Frieza's or some other general's wrath. For now, he would take advantage of the extra firepower in his arsenal. The decent conversation and wit she offered when he humored her or bothered to listen in on conversations with the other two. The break from staring at eye sores like Nappa and Raditz day in and day out…

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

His nap lasted little more than a few hours, a call from Nappa checking in waking him from his fitful slumber. After reprimanding the general for it and listening to his drunken attempt to assure him that he and Raditz were doing just fine and had caused "absolutely no trouble whatsoever, not even a single brawl that definitely didn't end in at least two casualties and several injured," Vegeta ended the call and buried his face in his pillow. Sleep had done nothing for his mood. If anything, it left him more sour than when he drifted off. 

The prince growled and punched the mattress next to his head, springing from the bed when he surmised sleep would only continue to evade him. A glance out the window as he tugged his armor violently back on over his head revealed a darkening sky, meaning most would be shifting from the commerce and resort districts to seek out more lively entertainment. He considered joining the rabble or tracking down Nappa and Raditz for a split second before deciding against it, the thought of large crowds a less than stellar situation to be in in his mind. Though, remaining cloistered in his room sounded just as unappealing. 

Deciding a physical check on the other two Saiyans would at least occupy him for a time, he refit his scouter to his face and tapped the button to perform a scan. Sure enough, he pinpointed their scouter models in the entertainment district and, just as he was about to pin the location in his tracker, the scouter pinged a third location in one of the few unincorporated areas of the planet just outside the resort district. Nabooru's. His eyes narrowed, and his tail lashed against the mattress behind him. In the time he slept, she had left her room down the hall to venture off on her own. For what, he couldn't fathom. But finding out sounded better than dealing with the crowds and his drunken cohorts attempting to secure a bed mate for the night.

Vegeta exited the hotel and traced the signal of her scouter and power level to an island in the only prominent body of water left on the planet. He slowed his flight and descended, finding her seated along the shoreline with her back to him. Orange light flickered in front of her and held her focus, masking his landing and approach. As he strode closer, he noted how the sphere of ki at the tip of her index finger wavered as it shifted shape, elongating before sinking back to its original shape. He smirked to himself.

“I see you took my advice.”

Nabooru straightened her spine in a jolt and twisted around, the energy dissipating with the inward curl of her finger. "And I see you followed me again. Couldn't stay away from me, huh?" She turned back toward the water, an unsettlingly still reflection of the sky above. She rested her palms behind her and leaned back into them. "Are you that bored or did you need something? I was kind of hoping to be alone if I'm being honest."

He observed her back and his usual glower settled back into place, the fleeting thought of drowning her momentarily appealing. With her ponytail tossed over her shoulder to the front, he noted she had removed her armor and found it lying in a pile with her boots, leggings, gloves, and scouter off near a rock jutting out of the island’s surface. Vulnerable he couldn’t help but think. He found it odd that, even now, she didn't’ scramble to pull it back on and remedy that in the face of a potential threat. That she could stand to appear even remotely weak in the presence of another, friend or foe.

To spite her, Vegeta shifted to stand beside her, planting himself firmly in place at her side. He was in no hurry to locate the other two, and he hoped she might pick a fight with him if he remained. Physical or verbal, it didn't matter to him. He unfurled his tail from his waist, allowing it to stretch and sway contentedly behind him.

Time passed at a crawl, the sky above them and its reflection in the water a smattering of twinkling stars on black canvas and the planet's two moons now visible in crescent phases. Nabooru remained silent and near unmoving save for a change in position to extending one leg outward and bringing the other knee toward her chest despite his obvious refusal to leave her alone. He chanced a glance over and found her staring out at the water once more, gaze distant and mind obviously elsewhere. He might as well not exist to her from the look of it. His patience waning, his tail exemplifying such with more aggressive and punctuated arcs near his calves, he opened his mouth to degrade her, only for her to finally speak up.

"It's funny, you know," she began, gold eyes never leaving the overly still surface of the lake. Vegeta closed his mouth, lips set in a tight line and gaze narrowing. "I never cared too much for rank or my titles back home. Outside of wanting to be part of the Elite, I wasn't looking for a more formal leadership position. But...outside of missing my home, my people, I think I almost miss them more."

The Saiyan remained silent, uncertain if she addressed him at all, of what to say in general, or if he wanted to entertain a conversation like this with her at all. It edged toward too personal, blurring the lines of leader and subordinate that he was already struggling to keep clear with her. Still, he couldn't deny the curiosity he had concerning her. Nappa had clued him in on bits and pieces of her background, what little bit she shared with him while they trained. But, unless Nappa held out on him, Nabooru had proven scrupulous, smart about what she did and didn't reveal. The months of servitude to Frieza apparently wore her down and made her careless, as she seemed keen on continuing. He did, however, discreetly switch off his scouter and hoped her voice was low enough that her own couldn't pick it up. Habit, he surmised.

"I was second in command of my people and if I had been born in a different time where we didn't have a king, I might have been leader. I was engaged to our king and set to be queen someday, even if it really was just a title and wouldn't have changed much in the way of my duties. I was the best warrior we had produced in decades or longer. And I had worked hard to earn all of it. But now…" A slight twinge of pain twisted her features and she pulled her other knee up to join the other. She draped her arms around them. The pain dissolved and her brows lowered, frown deepening and the initial sparks of anger flared in her eyes. "All of that was stripped from me. My name, my titles, even my race known for being powerful warriors...It all means nothing. I'm nobody here. I have no identity any more. It's something I never knew I would miss since it never felt all that important to me..."

That he understood. Better than homesickness. Definitely more than her moral hang ups. He still clung to his title of Saiyan Prince despite the lack of power it held. How those above him used it to mock him rather than a sign of respect of his station. The prince of two meant nothing in the grand scheme of things, but it was his title. With little left, he refused to dispose of it or let anyone else forget it. Saiyan still meant something among their peers. Most soldiers understood the might of the Saiyan race, how powerful and ruthless a single warrior could be. But Gerudo warrior, elite, leader, whatever...she was right to say it meant nothing there. Her home planet had only been recently discovered. Her people, while he could give her the benefit of the doubt in their skills as warriors, did not have the notoriety of his race. She was utterly alone and truly a nobody, forced to start over and prove herself once more to likely never advance higher than she stood now.

Nabooru suddenly twisted, face tilted upward to meet his gaze. "How do you do it?" She asked. He couldn't miss the hint of desperation in her voice. "How do you...how do you keep going? You've lost so much too, and yet--"

He cut her off with a raised hand and a stern glare. He aimed his index finger at her scouter. Energy shot from his fingertip, and the device exploded in a burst of glass and plastic. He rolled his eyes in light of her protests. "You'll get a new one back at base. Accidents happen. You never know who could be listening, and I'd hate for you to incriminate yourself so soon."

He removed his own scouter and crushed it in his fist. Paranoia, perhaps, since he had cut its power at the beginning of her rant, but he knew Frieza and his goons had higher access to scouter feeds. He didn't know if that extended to ones powered down somehow, but he didn't trust that they didn't.

"I was young when my planet was destroyed. I hadn't built up quite the…attachments to it in the same way as you, I suppose," Vegeta responded, folding his arms over his chest. For him, he never got the chance to fall in love with his planet or form bonds with his people as a whole or even individuals. A prince of seven, he knew little past the walls of the palace personally, save for what his parents, Nappa, or other tutors told him. It did not free him from longing for it, for what could have and should have been, but such thoughts angered him more than saddened him. Rage simmered over the injustice of it, of everything he endured over the years, and all that came to matter to him was revenge. For the abuses, the disrespect, for robbing him of everything he was promised. Placing him in such a position where he felt powerless. Weak and a slave to a tyrants whim. The tyrant he knew destroyed his home and people. Meteor his ass.

"I focus on my goals." He eyed her, unsure of how much he wanted to divulge to her. What pieces he could chance slipping her without sending her running to Frieza, hoping for some sort of promotion if she rat him out for his dream of treason. She had shown her power, a modicum of usefulness that could prove useful in an alliance. But her loyalty had yet to be truly tested, his hard won trust yet to be earned. Thus, he settled on a vague truth: "You've no doubt seen how myself and my cohorts are treated for our race. I focus on showing them how grave a mistake they make underestimating Saiyans. Of underestimating me. I want them all to fear me the way they feared our entire race for generations."

"Not exactly concrete but...a commendable goal, considering. I don't blame you." She snorted. "You know, Zarbon told me to stay away from you three on my first day if I knew what was good for me. Like it would tarnish my nonexistent reputation or something."

"Tch, of course he did. And now you have no choice. How ironic," he drawled, teeth clenched and tail lashing twice behind him.

Nabooru extended her long legs out in front of her and rested her hands on her knees. She gazed out at the water in silence, watched some small, aquatic creature break the surface of the lake, spin in midair, and disappear once more. Finally, she looked back up at him, the ghost of a smile on her full lips. "For what it's worth, I am glad for that. I've met some of the others, seen how their squadrons operate, how ugly they are, inside and out, and even on the worst days of dealing with you three I'm glad for it. Maybe it's just our similar warrior spirits, but you three feel...familiar in some ways. It's a small comfort."

"I didn't realize you were such a suck up." While too emotional for his tastes, at least that perhaps meant she would continue to mesh well enough with them. Cause little more drama than the usual shenanigans Nappa and Raditz got up to. "Are you done being sappy? It's making me sick."

She laughed and rose to her feet, stretching her arms skyward and lengthening her body. "Honestly, I only said any of that because I figured you wouldn't listen anyway." She strode over to the pile of her belongings and picked up her armor. She pulled it on over her head and adjusted it for comfort. "I wanted to let that out, and at least with you standing there I would feel slightly less insane than talking to the water."

"Hmpt. I shouldn't have. All your whining gave me indigestion." His tail swayed with docile calm behind him, despite his words. 

"Aw, your poor thing. Want me to make it up to you?" She pulled a burgundy stocking up the length of her leg to her thigh, and his mind betrayed him with more lewd insinuations behind the suggestion. He turned his attention back to the water, glad another creature hopped out of itto mask the sudden movement. The cursed warmth in his cheeks. 

He chanced a glance back to find her tugging her gloves on. "You said you like sparring. How about it? I'm not really tired enough to go back to my room yet."

A spar. He berated his perverted notions. He unfolded his arms and cracked his knuckles, tail returning to its position at his waistline. "Fine. It's the least you can offer for making me suffer." His smirk returned. "Just don't cry when I kick your ass again since you want to be so emotional."

It was Nabooru’s turn to roll her eyes. “Same goes to you. Nappa says you’re a sore loser.”

“I don’t know how he would know when I never lose.”

“Oh? So I get to take your loss virginity, huh?”

Vegeta growled, but he couldn’t deny his excitement in the wake of a spar. The adrenaline beginning to surge through his veins as he remembered their first. How she had only improved since then. 

“Shut up.” He hovered over the surface of the lake, arms folded. “Let’s see if you can back up all your talk.”

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 88

Sophia, the day after her conversation with Tyche.

Thank you to @satan-parisienne and @baelpenrose for keeping me going and on an even keel! Sorry the Author’s Note is so short... I didn’t realize until I had about 10 mins before I had to be back at work that I forgot to queue this for today *facepalm*

The next day was an entire education on new places I could be sore. A hot shower and analgesics only took the barest edge off, and I ended up needing a transport to get to my office instead of my routine walk. I did my best to ignore the grin on Conor’s face every time I moved too fast and winced.  After the third time I scowled at him, I brought up my datapad and did some research, careful not to tap my legs as I gestured, which had become something of a habit.

 “That snot,” I gasped. Conor glanced at me, so I clarified. “Tyche had me doing fencing footwork yesterday…. Intermediate footwork, it turns out. No wonder I’m so sore.”

 “Least it wasn’t sparring,” he pointed out cheerfully, gently lifting my chin to get a look at my lip.  “You should have let Noah heal that, love.”

 I brushed my cheek against his hand. “I want the reminder. May even let her do it again once it heals.”

 This time, it was his turn to scowl. “Not funny.  That face has been bruised enough for one lifetime.” He gently rubbed my cheek as the transport stopped. “Okay, time to go be the boss.  No fighting with the other kids.”  Despite the joking tone, his eyes were serious as he leaned in to kiss me before he headed to his shift.

 I realized that Alistair not only beat me to work, but could apparently hear me groaning as I tried to walk, because the door opened before I was even within three feet of it.  True to form, he gave me an appraising look before his expression settled on my face. “Door get a bit mouthy today? Or did your feet decide you needed to stay home?”

 “Tyche punched me, actually.” My tone was light as I inched my way to my desk. “For defending myself. And then she decided I need more ways to defend myself, so now I can hardly move.”

 “Solid logic,” he deadpanned as he handed me a cup of coffee. “I feel obliged to point out that the coffee is hot, seeing as you display a disturbing propensity to get hurt.”

 “Very funny.”

 “You have been warned, et cetera, so on, so forth.” He waved a hand nonchalantly as he turned, bringing up my agenda for the day. “Your first meeting is the one to discuss medical testing ethics, criteria for volunteers, and determination of the necessity of the procedures. Then you have time set aside to review the status of the Galactic Core Curriculum, along with proposals for expanded learning topics and their existing analogues in the education systems of other planets - “ He paused and tilted his head. “I will never cease to be caught off guard when sentences like that exist.”

 I restrained the urge to nod - or more accurately, my back twinged with a warning not to even consider it. “Believe me, I understand. Noah and I were talking about other species a few weeks ago. Did you know there is a species of avians out there who essentially live on a planet with no surface atmosphere?”

 “The Preeyar, yes,” he sighed wistfully. “Knowing that Fermi was simply impatient has been quite eye-opening, so to speak.”

“Well, he wasn’t wrong,” I conceded. “We were too young for extraterrestrial civilizations, we weren’t listening properly, they apparently weren’t trying to contact us until recently…  But they do exist.” A smile crept on my face at the idea that we really hadn’t been alone in the universe.

My office door opened without warning, and a familiar voice chimed in as Alistair turned with clenched fists. “I do argue that we are entirely too dangerous to have been contacted.” Arthur Farro stood leaning against the frame, and Alistair relaxed marginally. “At least we were until relatively recently…. Throwing nuclear ordinance at each other the moment killing each other in the thousands - rather than the millions - stopped scratching that vicious itch. Who does that?  We’re like demented eight-year-olds who got bored of burning ants and started setting each other’s hair on fire instead.”

“You really should keep that door secured,” my assistant sniffed as he closed out my agenda, right around the time he caught Arthur squinting at it.

“He has the code,” I admitted.

“Or maybe that was accidental,” our resident history teacher continued, ignoring us. “I’m a big fan of assuming stupidity instead of malice where possible.  And, dear lord, does our track record make it plausible.”  Finally entering the room, he flicked a finger at my face. “That was not, however.”

Before I could stop him, Alistair took one glance between me and my friend, and strode to the door. “No.”

“Alistair…”

“I’ll clear your calendar. No. Have a good day.”

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Arthur asked as the door closed behind my soon-to-be-ex assistant.

“That he’s a coward,” I muttered.

“You know damned well that’s not what I mean.”

“Tyche already decked me.” I gestured at my split lip and the bruise that bloomed on my chin overnight. “So, yeah, I know - “

“No, you really don’t seem to.”

“Arthur, stop.”

“I will not.” He stepped forward and placed both his hands, palms down, on my desk.  He knew I hated that gesture. “Bjornson’s entire narrative hinges on you being more dangerous than anyone realizes, and you putting up a display of false helplessness to make everyone trust you.  By decking one of his followers, not only did you show that you do, in fact, have violence in you - meaning that it’s now entirely plausible you’re as Machiavellian as they claim - but you’ve also gone and indicated for whatever reason that Jokull is enough of a threat to drop that premise.” Straightening, he crossed his arms in clear disappointment. “If you wanted to give him more credibility, good job. You succeeded.”

I swallowed every bit of hurt I felt at his words, reminding myself they were nowhere near as barbed as the ones Tyche had given me the day before. Instead, I tilted my head and arched an eyebrow at him. “Are you done? Did you say everything you needed to say?” I paused, giving him a chance to respond. When he didn’t, I poked harder. “Feel better?”

“Not particularly, but big picture? I’m not a terribly gleeful person, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. But yes, it is your turn now.”

“Gracious of you,” I cooed sarcastically.  “Tyche made the same points yesterday, after punching me in the face, with the added gravitas of a guilt trip served with that special seasoning of having watched me almost die and thinking I abandoned her as a child. Also three hours with a rapier, whipping my ass. So. Far more impressive, I assure you.”

“Foiled again by the smaller Reid,” he sighed dramatically before catching himself.  “Rapier, you say? I was going to say no pun intended, but I’ve decided I did that on purpose. Yep. Totally intentional.”

I rolled my eyes before pulling up my tunic to show the bruises on my midriff. “I’m not very good at it, for the record.”

He waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry, saber’s a better style anyway.  And I’m not just saying that because it’s my favorite.”

“Uh huh,” I nodded, not entirely convinced. “As far as Bjornson… seriously. She gave me the scoop.  I seriously fubared the entire situation yesterday.  Apparently, our suspected cult leader only believes in physical attacks on those who would defend themselves. No honor in beating a beaten foe, et cetera.”

“Mmm hmmm,” he nodded, like I was a student he was letting reach her own conclusion.

“Which means I just made it open season on Sophias,” I groaned.

“Really, saber is much better for brawling tactics,” he hedged.

I laughed bitterly. “Doesn’t matter.  My walking privileges are revoked until further notice. Must be accompanied by one of six people, or two out of another ten, and on a transport.” The last word came out like a profanity.  It was a known fact I hated using them.

Hence why I was now being forced to, unfortunately.

“If you think there is any possibility that I’m going to argue against Tyche on that decision, I need to talk to her about that head scan,” he told me pointedly. “Then again, you and I have different definitions of the word ‘think’, but I’ll be clear - it’s not happening.  Moving target, faster than a walking pace, with a protective attachment? Which roster am I on, again?”

“Very funny. You already know.”

His expression softened slightly when he realized I was actually upset. “There is some good news in all of this.”

I threw up my hands and spun in my chair. “Oh, do tell, great military historian and warlord. What is the shining silver lining to the fact that I just gave a man who thinks I am the only thing standing between him and his New Start a golden ticket to sic his followers on me?”

“Okay, first off, sassy shit, my main career is a school teacher. I only moonlighted as a warlord to pay those apocalypse bills. Not my fault I was good at it.” Suddenly, he got serious. “The good new is, if he was too stupid to realize that your talent for inspiring loyalty meant you were a massive problem for any takeover plan, and a problem he’d have to deal with sooner or later….. Well, he’s probably too stupid to keep his little cult together much longer.  Leaders who don’t recognize more than one kind of strength never manage to build a lasting legacy.”

“My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings: Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair…” I said, half to myself.

“Yeah, our guy is no Ramses II,” Arthur replied.  “Besides, those who seek power are rarely good at keeping it.”

“I would have given him my seat on the Council if he’d just asked,” I admitted.

“Besides the fact that you literally just proved my point, if he was suited to the Council, he’d be on it.  It’s not like you were the only candidate.”

I shrugged. “No idea. I didn’t even know I was on the Council for the first week. I think it was a week.”

When I turned to look at him, I was met with a flat stare. “I know it was explained to you at some point.  How does that search function work?” He reached forward like he was going to tap my head before I swatted his hand away. “You were appointed to the Council to replace Simon, you represent a specific population on board the Ark, when we arrive at Von, you will serve an additional two planetary standard years before elections are held, of which you cannot be a candidate….”

Ugh. “I was put forward as a recommendation by Simon. The other Councillors put forward their candidates. The population I represent voted based on my personnel file, since no one even knew any of the candidates at that point. We’d only been on the Ark about six months. Some of us, anyway.” Glaring, I narrowed my eyes at him. “I don’t know how you figured that out, but I have a feeling I’m going to kill someone.”

He waved a hand at me in a very familiar gesture. “I see other people do it all the time. Jog your memory, and some phrase or word triggers it.  Cool to watch, though.” With a shrug, he continued. “Point is, Bjornson wasn’t even a candidate, same as me.”

“How do you know that?” I asked incredulously.

“Fuck, Sophia. You really need to keep track of your constituents.”

“Hey, I didn’t even want to be a - Wait. You are one of my so-called ‘constituents’!?”

“Even voted for you,” he grinned.  “Didn’t know it was you-you, but… Communications background, peaceful but intelligent attributes to balance out our resident warhawk, fair enough to offset Huynh, and you seemed like the type to actually listen to Grey, Pranav, and Eino.” He shrugged. “To be fair, I was right.”

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