#maybe ill even draw him in a good mood someday.... someday.....

[mugentakeda]

mighty dragon (and fledgling)

[stellarboystyles]

serendipity

ahhhh she’s finally done!! now i can rest my weary soul. thank you to my lover @bfharry​ for putting this lovely event together, and i’m sorry this late, i’m a mess.

7k pining, fluff and smut

friends to lovers college au // trigger warning - mentions of illness, family death and childhood trauma, mentions of alcohol use.

She was reaching as high as she could, desperately trying to get to the book on the shelf that was much too high for her to reach. She turns to Harry, who’s smirking down at her with crossed arms.

“Need a lift, sprout?”

She gives him a look of eloquence. “Please.” 

She giggles as he dips down, wrapping his arms around her legs and lifting her up. Now, she’s happily at eye level with the desired shelf. 

Her fingers skimming over the spines of all the hardbacks sitting comfortably on the wood surface. E...F...G...H...

“Found it!”

Once her eyes lock on the title, she pulls the book out as fast as she could.

“Okay, let me down.” 

“Sure? Don’t like the view from up there? Know you’re not used to it-”

“No, now let me down before I bruise you like the peach that you are.”

“Ouch.” he snickered, setting you back down onto the ground beneath. “S’harsh.”

“Deserved it.” she teased before he sticks out his tongue in a playful response. 

“What d’ya need the book for?”

“It’s for that analysis we have to do for poetry class.”

He blinks at her once, eyes widening slightly. “What analysis?”

She giggles at his expression. “You didn’t read your emails, did you?”

“Fuck!” he exclaims, voice slightly above a whisper, but it was enough to agitate the other students in the library who are trying to either study or get their own work done.

“Shhh!”

“Sorry, sorry.” he apologizes to the people around them before Y/N puts a hand on his bicep and he leans into her to hear her whispering words.

“You just have to pick a poetry book, analyze it, make a conclusion, all that stuff.”

“So it’s like an essay?”

“Kind of.” she follows Harry as he starts to examine the shelves for a book himself. “You know how Greene is, he’s super chill. He wants it to be more of a review, what you think of the book and the author.”

“So, like a review.”

She blinks at him. “That’s what I just said.”

“M’tired, gimme a break.” he sighs. “He never challenges us in that class.”

“I guess not.” she shrugs. “Easy grade, right?”

“Sounds like it.” he gives a casual nod. “When’s it due?”

“Tuesday.”

“Sweet.” he nods, eyes skimmed across the shelves before landing on a cornflower blue hardback. Harry chose books by their cover a lot. Not metaphorically, just literally.

“Ready?”  

He nods again. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Once they’d both gotten their book signed out, they started down the path across the patch of grass, making their way to their next class that they had together. 

“So you really didn’t check your phone all weekend?”

He shakes his head. “No, my phone was off ‘cos Gem was visiting over the weekend, remember?” he taps on the side of her head with one finger. “Helloooo, earth to Y/N, you were there.”

“Quit it!” she scolds, swatting his hand away. “Yeah, I think I remember her. She’s the least annoying Styles’ sibling, right?”

Harry unexpectedly clutches his chest, wincing in pain. “Ouch, ow!”

Panic rushed through her, the first thing popping into her mind was that he was having an asthma attack. “Haz, are you okay?” she drops her bag onto the ground so that she can help him. “You’re scaring me, do you need your inhaler?”

He leans over, eyes squeezed closed. One hand is resting on his knee, the other still grasping at his sternum. 

“My ego...it hurts.”

As soon as the words registered, anger washed over her, jaw rippling before punching him in the bicep.

“You’re such a little shit.” 

“Oi, tha’ hurt!” he laughs, which makes her even more angry, whisking her bag off the ground and walking away from him as quickly as possible. 

He lets out a lighthearted sigh before starting to jog up to her. “C’mon, wait up.”

“Go away.” she grumbles, quickening the pace of her steps towards the building that their next class was in. Her hand was less than a foot away from reaching the door, about to push it open but she was no match for his longer legs as he jogged to catch up with her.

“Hey, hey.” he manages to get her hand in his grasp. She turns around in his grip, eyes fiery with vex. 

“What.”

“C’mon, don’t be like that.” he frowns, moving so that he’s holding both of her hands in his as he stood in front of her. “Please? M’sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, leaning against the brick wall behind her. “Yes you did.”

“Let me make it up to you?” he offers, resting his palm on the rough surface above her head. 

“Whatever you want.”

The pounding heartbeat in her ears is deafening, but the prank that he’d just pulled wasn’t quickly forgotten.

“I’ll let you know when I think of something.” Pushing herself off the wall, she turns and pushes the door open to the classroom, leaving a sad Harry behind. He trudged along behind her, silently moping before sitting next to her. Not even a minute after they sat down, Harry was leaning over to her, trying to get her attention. 

“Y/N, please.” he whines, laying his head on her shoulder. “M’sorry.”

The butterflies in her stomach were crumbling her resolve, and she lays her cheek on top of his curls. “It’s okay.” he can hear the smile in her quiet voice. He peers up at her, an endearing smile beaming back at her.

“Not mad at me anymore?” he clarifies, voice filled with hope.

“How long have we been best friends?” she laughs. “Y’know I can never stay mad at you.”

“We were babies, don’t you remember?” he snickers. “Like, actual babies.”

Neither of them really remember. 

Harry and Y/N’s parents had been neighbors and friends for years before either of them were born, and when Harry was almost two, they’d given birth to a beautiful baby girl.

“Harry, look.” Anne coos to her son as he sits on her lap. “See the baby?”

He stops playing with his teddy, toddling over to the sound of his mummy’s voice and he’s so fascinated, probably because he’s never seen a real baby before. 

“I hold her?”

The new mum says “of course” before she gives her baby to Anne, now holding her in Harry’s lap. 

“I pet?”

He carefully lifts a chubby hand, places it on her tummy and pats gently at the pale lavender onesie. 

“My sweet boy.” Anne kisses the top of his head, smoothing out his blonde bangs.

Harry leans down and pushes a soft kiss onto her cheek, and it’s safe to say both mums melt at the sight. 

“They’ll be best friends for sure.” 

He looks up at the baby’s mum. “She seepin’?”

She nods with a smile. “Yeah, she's sleepin’.”

He gives her another kiss on her cheek before speaking again, this time in a hushed voice. 

“Night Night, baby.” 

“Our mums are never gonna let us forget that day.” he groans, twisting open the cap of the drink in his hands.

“Or that you had a crush on me.” 

He nearly chokes on his juice, making her split into a fit of giggles.

“Maybe I did.” he admits, leaning his elbows onto the desk. “So what?” 

“You definitely did, remember when you kissed me?”

His cheeks heat up at her teasing, arms crossing on top of the desk before laying his head down in embarrassment. He cracks one eye open at her laughing. “y/nnnn.”

When Harry was five and Y/N was four, he asked if he could kiss her, at school.

“You’re the prettiest girl in the whole world.” Harry tells her as his fingers draw in the dirt.

“That’s what my mummy and daddy tells me!” she cheers, and he may only be five years old but he knows that no other girl on the playground would happily sit in the dirt with him like she would. Her cheeks are resting against her hands and Harry thinks that they’re the cutest cheeks he’s ever seen.

“Can we kiss now?” 

She thinks for a moment before speaking.

“You can’t tell your mummy, because she might tell my mummy and we’ll be in trouble.” 

“Won’t tell anyone, not even Niall.”

Her eyes go wide with a gasp. Niall was his best friend, he must really mean business.

“Really?”

“Promise.” he holds out his pinky for her to squeeze.

Unfortunately for them, while Y/N was over next door at Harry’s for a playdate Anne caught them kissing in the back garden and they were both forced into the friend zone. Y/N was super sad, and Harry didn’t like that one bit, so he tried to make her feel better. 

“Don’t cry, someday when we’re grown ups we can kiss and hold hands anytime we want! We can be best friends ‘til then, okay?”

“The start of an epic friendship.” he reminisces, flashing her a wink. 

“Good times and bad.” she nods, and the mood drifts to sad silence.

“We’ve really been there through everything, huh?” he acknowledges, meeting her gaze. 

When Harry was twelve and Y/N was eleven, Harry’s dad left. Left his family with nothing and Harry was devastated.

“How could he? This isn’t fair to any of you.”

Y/N was standing in Anne’s kitchen listening to her painstakingly tell her what had just happened. He’d left while Anne was working and Gemma and Harry were at school, leaving the remainder of the family devastated. 

“I know darling, but we’ll get through this. I’m worried about Harry, he ran off. He was so upset. Do you know where he could be?”

“I’ll find him.”

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚  ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

Her mind and legs worked together to pedal faster than she ever had before through the park behind their street. As soon as she crosses the bridge she sees him. He’s sitting under their favorite oak tree, knees dew up to his chest.

“Harry!”

She throws her bike down and sprints to him, falling next to him.

He looks up, releases the grip on his hair and reaches out, grasping her hands and she quickly pulls him into a hug and she’d never held anyone so tight in her entire life. Her own hot tears started to fall from her face at the sound of his heartbreaking cries and she doesn’t know how long they stayed there like that, slowly moving her fingers through his curls as she held him. He let out a whimper when she forced his face out of her neck, cradling his cheeks in her hands. He looked so defeated and she had to use every ounce of strength in her body not to sit there and cuddle him against this tree all night. His mum and sister needed him, and he needed them. Her fingers brushed across his wet cheeks and he leaned into her touch as she repeated the action. 

“I’m so sorry, Haz.” another sob escapes him at her words. “You don’t have to talk about it. You can cry, scream and yell, whatever you want...but we gotta get home., it’s getting dark.”

“Don’t wanna go back there.” he shakes his head and tightens his hold on your shirt. 

“H, your mum and sister need you, and you need them.”

“I need you.” 

Y/N’s heart flutters and she’s not sure why, but she’s sure Harry can feel it because he’s still fisting her shirt. 

“I’ll stay the night at yours, my mum won’t care.”

“What about your dad?”

“He’ll get over it.”

Understandably, of course her father wasn’t too fond of the idea of his daughter sleeping over at her best friend’s house, because he was a boy. But she reassured her dad countless times that “boys were gross” so he begrudgingly allowed it.

They’d cuddled countless times, that night was no different. She held him, stroking his hair some more as they talked. The mood is lightened after awhile. Even though the healing process hasn’t even really begun yet. Harry was gonna be okay, because he had Y/N. 

“Gemma gets so jealous because she can’t have boys in her room.” he jokes, making her giggle. 

“She’s also fifteen and has a boyfriend.” she reasons. “We’re just best friends.”

“True.” 

Comfortable silence engulfed Harry’s room for a few moments, the vibe was mellow from each other’s presence before Y/N spoke again.

“It’s gonna be okay.” her voice was barely above a whisper, brushing the stray hairs away from his forehead. 

“You don’t know that.” he whispers, peering up at her. The moonlight shining through the window is enough to illuminate their faces while they talk.

“Yeah I do.” she argues softly. “It’s bad right now, but it’ll be okay someday. Promise.”

When Y/N was seventeen, her world came crashing down.

“Harry, can you come down please?”

He quickly put down his phone, shoving it into his pocket when he heard the urgency in his mum’s voice coming from downstairs. Ever since his dad left he’d grown closer to his mum and sister, more protective.

He rushes downstairs, finding her in the kitchen. 

“Mum? What's wrong?”

“I need you to go next door and check on Y/N, alright?”

His face fills with confusion and fear but Anne doesn’t give him any time to respond. 

“I just got off the phone with Rachelle, she and Will had gone out to dinner and he started to have some terrible pain. They’re at the hospital now, they did some tests��they found something and they think it might be cancer.”

Harry’s face falls.

“Oh God, Mum—”

“I know, baby, I know.”

“Does she know? She had to work after school today, does she know?”

“Her mum said she was going to call her once she’d gotten home from work.”

“She gets off at eight thirty,” he pulls out his phone and sees that it’s nine fifteen. “She should be home by now.” He briskly walks over to the window that faces Y/N’s house. 

“Her car’s there.” he reveals. “M’goin’ over there. I’ll be back.”

She agrees and without another word Harry’s at her front door. 

Locked.

“Shit, shit, shit.” he mutters to himself before remembering the spare key under the flower pot by the door. Once it’s retrieved, his trembling hands fumble with the piece of metal before successfully unlocking the door and pushing it open. As soon as he’s inside, he hears muffled crying from upstairs and it’s all he needs to hear before he’s rushing upstairs and down the hall to her bedroom. Normally he would never just walk in her room uninvited, but when he saw the white wooden door decorated with silver stars all over, he wasn’t going to stop until he got to her. As soon as he pushes her bedroom door open, the sight alone is enough to make him cry. He watches her yank her desk chair out, screaming as she throws it as hard as she could across the floor.

“Y/N!” 

He rushes to her, pulling her in the most protective hug he’s ever given. Her arms retreated to frightfully gripping the front of his shirt, knees buckling. They ended up crumpled on the floor, backs against the wall as he held her. Her gut wrenching cries were hushed by Harry’s embrace.

“Hey, hey—shhh. M’here, look at me, okay? Deep breaths, breathe with me, okay?” 

“I can’t, it’s too much. This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening.” her cries made his heart ache, all he wanted to do was make it better, but he just couldn’t.

Needless to say, they’ve been there for each other through everything. Y/N’s dad passed away later that year, leaving everyone devastated. Harry waited a year to go to college to be there for Y/N and her mum.

“Are you excited for NYU?”

She tried to sound happy for him, but her voice was laced with sadness. His back was facing her so she couldn’t see his face as he glanced at the sunset out her window.

“M’not going.” he admits, voice small and her jaw goes slack.

“What? What d’you mean you’re not going?” 

“Can’t leave you two here like this.” he turns around and tears are brimming his waterline. “Already talked it over with mum, and the bakery’s not really willin’ t’let me go yet.” 

“Harry.” she warns.

“Hey,” it’s alright.” he pulls her into a protective hug. “We’ll get everything sorted out, okay? It’ll be nice to take a year off from school anyway.”

His lighthearted tone isn’t enough to soothe her anxiety. “You don’t have to put your life on hold for me.”

“I’m not.” he promises. “We’ve been there for each other through everything, yeah?” he pulls away slightly, giving her a warm smile. “That doesn’t just stop because we aren’t kids anymore.”

“We make a good team.”

Her words warm his heart and he turns to her, nodding with a sweet smile.

“Yeah, we do, don’t we?”

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚  ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

Her.

Admire her.

Tell her how the crinkles in her eyes are like crescent moons, glowing when she smiles. 

Watch how she giggles at your jokes that aren’t funny, and how coy she gets when you’re sweet with her. 

She couldn’t help but get lost in books like this. Somehow they managed to capture everything she’s ever been through, and everything she’s struggling with now. It was torture, really, being in love with her best friend, seeing him everyday, hiding her feelings from him in fear of their friendship being ruined forever. She couldn’t even fathom if that horror were to become her reality, she surely wouldn’t survive the heartbreak.

Touch her. 

Tell her that the stretch marks that paint her skin are magnificent, and that her body is just one dazzling part of who she is.

Snuggle her with tender touches and soft fingertips, love on every curve of her body.

She found herself daydreaming at times like this—the midday sun beaming down on her through the window of the library as she sat in one of the lounge chairs, reading one of her favorite poetry books. She would think about how Harry would touch her if she were his. How he would caress her skin, what his lips could do, where his hands would go.

Adore her.

Cherish her. 

Her reading was quickly interrupted, her vision obstructed by a pair of hands covering her eyes followed by a familiar voice.

“Guess who.”

“Uh...Bigfoot?”

“Heeeey.” he protests, moving to sit in the lounge chair next to hers. “S’mean.”

She giggles at his pouting, squeezing one of his cheeks. “Poor baby.”

“Ouch.” he brought his hand up to his face to rub the sore skin. “Like beatin’ up on me, do yeh?”

“Just a little.” she winks. 

“Yeah, yeah.” he playfully rolls his eyes before turning his attention to the book in his best friend’s hands. “Whatcha readin’?”

Her heartbeat quickened as she realised that she had been caught, swiftly shutting the book and tucking it into her bag. “Nothing.”

“Nooo, lemme see!”

He didn’t give her another chance to respond, knowing her all too well. She shied away from his words, cheeks splashing with pink.

“C’mon, pleeease?” he frowns, nudging her arm with his elbow. He notices her apprehension, not wanting to push her.

“S’just me.” 

His voice is softer, giving her a fluttering feeling as he leans in closer. “Y’trust me, right?”

The close proximity made her heart thump in her chest. She gives him a slight nod before quietly replying. “Yeah.”

He gently bites down on his lower lip, his eyes flickering from her eyes, down to her lips.

Were they going to kiss?

“Why won’t you tell me what you were readin’?” he quirks with a small smile, tilting his head slightly. You can see the wheels turning. “S’it naughty?”

“No!” she gives him a look, as if to say stooooop, Haz.

He chuckles at her nervousness, patiently waiting as she keeps fumbling over her words, avoiding his captivating eyes. “No...no, no, it’s a...it’s just a book.”

“Obviously.” he blinks. “What kind of book.”

“Just poetry.” she mumbles, hoping he would drop the subject quickly.

“S’it for your poetry analysis thing? What kind of—”

“Harryyyyy.” she whines, hiding her face in her hands. 

“M’not doin’ anything! Can’t I be interested in what you’re readin’?” he defends, resting his cheek in his hand, elbow leaning on the arm of the chair. 

“M’only teasing.” he swipes his fingers across her heated cheeks as he speaks softly to her. “You’re bein’ so shy.”

It’s so adorable, he thinks to himself. 

“You don’t have to show me if you don’t want to.” he reassures. “M’starving. Did you still wanna go to lunch?”

She perked up at his question, the book in her bag eventually forgotten, just as she wished. “Please, I’m so hungry.”

“Can we get—”

“Chinese?” his face lights up. “Please please please?”

“We had that last weekend.” 

“So? S’the best food ever, and since when do you turn down chinese food?” he rests his head on the table. “I’ll help you with French Lit.”

“Compelling argument, I didn’t know you were taking a debate class.”

“So funny.” he rolls his eyes. “C’mon, please?”

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚  ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

“I love chow mein so much.” 

Y/N’s words barely register in his ears, let alone his brain as he admired the sight of her, eyes closed in bliss as she slurps another noodle.

She’s just so fucking cute.

“I love you so much.”

“What?”

He’s sure his heart had just dropped into his stomach and his eyes were going to pop out of his head. He hadn’t even realised he’d said it out loud! 

“Didn’t say anything.” he mumbles, mentally cursing himself after feeling the heat radiating off his cheeks. He avoids her gaze as he shoves another spoonful of hot and sour soup into his mouth.

“So how’s your story for creative writing going?” she wonders, twirling some noodles with her fork, because no, she didn’t know how to use chopsticks, and yes, Harry never missed an opportunity to tease her about it.

“Awful.” he pouts, to which she mirrors his expression. 

“You stuck?”

“Very.” he groans. “Just can’t seem to get the words out, y’know?”

“I’ve been there.” she nods. “Do you want some help?”

“Please.” he begged, giving her puppy eyes. “S’due next friday, been workin’ on it every night and still can’t get a single word out.”

“I think you just need to take a break, babes.” she offers. “Let’s have a sleepover this weekend and I’ll help you.”

He gives a sigh of relief, making her laugh. “You’re a gem. What would I do without you?” 

“Your life would definitely be less exciting.” she notes, taking another bite.

He was silent for a moment, probably thinking of a comeba—

“At least I know how to use chopsticks.” 

“You won’t teach me!” she pouts at his teasing. “Quit being mean.”

“Want me to teach you?” he perks, peering up at her.

“Yes.” she lets out a breathless giggle while nodding. 

He playfully huffs, slightly rolling his eyes as he moves to sit behind her on her bed. 

“Okay, so you hold them like this…”

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚  ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

Friday, October 12

Dear Diary, 

I feel like I’m going crazy. I keep trying to finish this story for my creative writing class but I keep getting distracted...all I can think about is him. I can’t help it, he’s all I ever think about. How am I supposed to write a romance fiction piece when all I can think about is how I’m in love with my best friend? Harry is charming and sweet and funny and genuine, any girl would be lucky to be his. How did I get myself into this mess? Harry would never like me like that, ever. My heart hurts if I think about it too much. Sometimes I feel like I should just tell him, bite the bullet, rip off the band aid and hope to God that our friendship isn’t ruined forever. In a perfect world,

Y/N drops her pen at the vibration of her phone.

Harry is calling…

“Hello?”

“We’ve known each other for how long and you still answer with hello?”

She lets out a breathless laugh. “Are you having a bad day or are you just making fun of me for shits and giggles?”

“Lil bit of both, yeah?” she can hear the cheekiness in his voice. “We still havin’ a sleepover this weekend? Might have to do it at yours, Niall’s havin’ a party and I doubt we’ll get anything done.”

She could hear the sheepish tone in his voice. “Oh no, if you wanna be at the party we can totally reschedule.” she offers.

Harry scrunches up his nose. “Need to get this paper done, m’never gonna finish it with all the noise.” he’s lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

“Besides, I’d rather spend the weekend with you.”

She feels her heart flutter at his admission, cheeks tingling with heat.

“ Okay...can you bring some snacks?”

There were no two humans on earth that loved fruit more than Harry and Y/N. so around fifteen minutes later, when Harry showed up to Y/N’s door with two smoothies, she melted like sugar. 

“Berry for you.” he hands you the icy purple smoothie in his left hand. “Strawberry banana for me.”

“Awh, thank you!” she gently pinches one of his cheeks. “You’re so sweet.”

“Oi, worse than my mum, aren’t you?” he rubs at the newly pink cheek. 

“No.” she defends. “C’mon, I’ll help you with your story so you don’t drag it out all weekend.”

“I resent that.” he mutters, sitting beside her on her bed as he flips open his laptop. 

“Do you have an idea of what you wanna write?”

“I have a little bit finished, now, about five thousand words. Wanna have a look?”

Y/N reads it over and it’s nothing short of a masterpiece so far. How can he be so pretty and talented at the same time?

“This is beautiful,” she gapes, turning to look up at him. “This is so good, H.”

“Oh, stop.” He sheepishly brushes off her praise. “Don’t think it’s bad so far, just need to come up with a conflict.”

“Just figure out what breaks your characters, what makes them the most vulnerable, what would completely crush them?”

“Losing each other.”

“More specific?” she tries, staring at the screen in front of her. “It’ll help with the details.”

“Rory’s afraid to tell Daisy that he’s in love with her.” he says. “He’s afraid that, if she finds out, it’ll ruin their friendship.”

Y/N’s lungs felt empty, like all the air had been sucked out by Harry’s words.

“Okay, um,” she gulps, trying to collect her thoughts. “So...write about that, and see where the story takes you.”

Three hours later

“Can we take a break?” he groans, laying back on the pillows of her bed. “M’starving.”

“Me too.” she pouts, fiddling with her hands. “Whatcha hungry for?”

“Mmm,” Harry thinks for a few moments before speaking up. “A veggie grill just opened up downtown, we should go there!”

“You’re making me crave nachos.” 

“You always crave nachos.”

“Why do you always have to call me out?” she whines, giving him a bashful glance.

“S’fun, innit?” he smirks, nudging her shoulder with his bicep.

“No.” she giggles, lying down next to him. “I’m gonna go get a shower then we can go.”

“Okay.”

An endearing smile adorned his face as she snuggled slightly into the soft pillows. Her eyes leisurely blink at him, falling closed after a few seconds.

“Sleepy?”

“Mhm.” 

“Thought you wanted a shower?” he hummed. Although, he wouldn’t mind staying here all night. “You can stay here, I’ll go pick up some food.”

“No, it’s okay.” she yawns, pushing herself up off the bed. “I’ll be quick.”

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚  ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

Harry gets bored easily, although his best friends room was much more lovely than his. He thinks his room is pretty basic; but Y/N’s room was much more charming. The walls were painted a pale ivory, decorated with fairy lights above her bed, which was dressed with a crisp white comforter and matching pillows. The knitted plum blanket that Harry had gotten her ages ago for Christmas was at the end of her bed. He vividly remembers when he had given it to her.

Her eyes were sparkling with joy as she pulled the blanket out of the box.

“Your mum helped me make it.” he mentions with a sheepish smile. “She was so patient, even though I had no idea what I was doing.”

“It’s beautiful.” she beams, pulling it close to her heart before looking up at him as they sat on the floor of Harry’s living room. “I love it.”

He gives her a soft smile, but he feels melancholic energy surrounding him. He keeps telling himself that he didn’t have a reason to be sad, because they weren’t together...but all he wanted was for her to be his. She was so cute, beanie snug on her head under the glow of the Christmas tree.

“Can I ask you somethin’?” 

To which she nods. “Of course.”

“Do you think,” his lips are pressed together in thought for a moment. “Do you think that fate is real?”

“Like kismet?” she cocks her head with a smile and he nods, breaking into a laugh.

“Yeah. Yeah, like kismet.”

“I think,” she takes a moment, fumbling with her hands before looking up at him. “Yeah, I think it’s real.”

Ten thousand words. Harry has to write ten thousand words by next Friday and he doesn’t have a single word typed out. Creative writing was supposed to be fun, and he had to write a romance fiction piece? Harry didn’t exactly thrive when it came to love. In fact, his love life was bone dry, to put it lightly. Other girls were...boring, compared to Y/N. Harry was charming and romantic and sweet and loving—but he didn’t want some random girl, he wanted Y/N to be his girl. Pining over her was his full time job, always has been.

He walks over to her desk, admiring the pictures that graced the wall just above. One of the photos that catches his eye is Y/N, probably about three or four, and her dad is reading her a bedtime story, her mum most likely being the one taking the photo. Sorrow washes over him, because it never gets easier, does it?

His eyes float to a few photos of Harry and Y/N laying  next to each other on their friend Jess’s parents house on the terrace. It was the first time they’d ever gotten drunk and they were trashed. The first photo is them attempting to sit up for a picture.

“You guys are so drunk.”

“M’not drunk.” Harry glances at Millie and Jess, who were behind the camera. “M’Harry! Who’s drunk?”

Harry’s rebuttal left both of them bursting into a fit of giggles.

“Haz, Jess wants a picture of us, pleeeeaaaase?”

Harry holds himself up by leaning back with one hand on the ground, the other arm slung around Y/N’s shoulder. He then turns to nuzzle his nose into her hair.

“Y’so pretty.” he murmurs drunkenly into her ear.

“Shut up, you’re drunk.”

“M’not, m’serious.”

 The last one from that night was them cuddling on the sofa at the end of their night, Harry’s face nuzzled into her shoulder as they slept soundly well into the afternoon.

His fingertips brushed across his favorite photo of them. They were working together at the bakery, and Harry had just traced his flour dipped fingertips in a line across Y/N’s cheek before she retaliated by sweeping some icing across the bridge of his nose. He grins from ear to ear at the memory.

“Hey Y/N, guess what?”

She turned around to face him when he abruptly drew a line with his flour dipped fingertips across her cheek.

Her jaw went slack at his bold action before icing was swiped across the bridge of his nose.

“Now we’re even.” that is, until she flicks some of the remaining blue icing from her fingers onto his face. 

“Aw, c’mon!” he wipes his face with his apron before narrowing his eyes. “Really?”

“You started it.” she pointed out and Harry gave her a shrug.

“I am so gonna get you back the next time we bake at my house.”

His eyes fall down to her desk, and he promises he didn’t mean to see it. It was his name, in her handwriting, written in purple gel pen inside an open book. Was it a journal?

Friday, October 12

Dear Diary, 

Shit.

He looked away for a moment, lip caught between his teeth. Should he read it? No, but he couldn’t help himself. 

I feel like I’m going crazy. I keep trying to finish this story for my creative writing class but I keep getting distracted...all I can think about is him. 

Him? Who’s she talking about? Does she like someone? The empty feeling in his chest isn’t a good feeling by any means. 

I can’t help it, he’s all I ever think about. How am I supposed to write a romance fiction piece when all I can think about is how I’m in love with my best friend?

All the color drains from Harry’s face. 

“Is she talking about me?” he murmurs.

Harry is charming and sweet and funny and genuine, any girl would be lucky to be his. 

His heart flutters at the mention of his name, aching at the next line. 

How did I get myself into this mess? Harry would never like me like that, ever. My heart hurts if I think about it too much. 

He felt like he was going to cry. How could this girl not know how much of a sucker he is for her? His heart thumped inside his chest and he could feel the heat radiating off his flushed cheeks.

Okay, don’t panic. Just calm down, don’t freak out.

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to process what he had just read whilst trying to decide what to do. Does he just tell her? Show her the page? No, she’ll be so angry that he read her diary, who does that? 

In that moment, he chooses to do the only thing that makes sense.

He listens to his heart.

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚  ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

She’d just hopped out of the shower when she heard a knock on her bathroom door.

“Hey, s’just me.” Harry’s voice clarifies through the wood. “Already ordered some food, m’gonna go and pick it up, I’ll be back.”

“I can go with you if you want-”

“No, s’okay! Be back in fifteen.”

And he’s gone.

After exiting her bathroom, she changes into some comfy clothes before deciding to read something from her book collection until Harry gets back. WHen she turns to go over to her bookshelves, she sees it.

A familiar lavender book, her diary, was lying open on her desk, and her heart sinks. Had he read what she’d written earlier? That must be why he was in such a hurry to leave! She probably scared him off. Y/N’s heart was racing as she stepped closer and realised that the page the diary was open to wasn’t written in her handwriting.

It was Harry’s handwriting.

Hi lovie, it’s Harry. 

I was too nervous to tell you this to your face, so I’m gonna write out my feelings. 

You’re my best friend in the whole world, and I absolutely adore everything about you. 

I love how you talk in your sleep, and yes, you do talk in your sleep. I know how much you love to snuggle when you’re sleepy or sad or you just want a cuddle...and how you still sleep with a night light on like when we were small. You always tell me it’s so you can see in case you need to get up and have a wee in the middle of the night, but I know it’s because you’re still scared of the dark.

She couldn’t believe her eyes. Was she dreaming?

I love how you crinkle your nose when you laugh, and how your smile glows like moonlight and how you play with your hands when you don’t know what to say. I love your love for books, and how much better your taste in music is than me. I love how you love to snuggle, especially when you’re...inebriated.

She giggles silently to herself, because he was so right. Not that he was any better.

I could go on forever, but I don’t wanna get caught writing this.

I am so in love with you, Y/N.

Love, H. x 

Y/N didn’t know how to feel. Her heart was warm, but she was so nervous. What does this mean for them? How will this affect their friendship? Hundreds of questions run through her brain until she hears a knock on the door.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” she whispers. “Okay, just... be chill, please be chill.”

Trying to calm herself down in a matter of seconds was pointless. Walking over to the door, she took a deep breath in before opening the door.

“Hi.” he blinks at her, letting out a light laugh before setting down the two paper bags in his hands. “M’back. They didn’t have the-”

“I read it.”

He avoids her gaze and he feels frozen by her words, digging his vans into the carpet.

“Harry.” she breathes. “Say something.”

His eyes flicker to meet hers, taking a step forward.

“I...I love you.”

Y/N feels like a weight has been lifted off her chest, like she just came for air after being kept under water for too long. 

“If this makes things weird, I’m sorry. I’m so fuckin’ sorry, but I love you to pieces and I-”

“I love you too.” 

His smile is pure joy before he takes her hand in his, pulling her closer to him.

“Can I kiss you?” he begs, almost breathless. “Please.”

She nods, and he cradles her cheeks in his hands, pressing a sweet kiss to her lips.  

His lips were so soft, moving with hers like they were made for each other.

Harry was sitting on the edge of her bed, her thighs straddling his hips and she sat across his lap. Her hands were in his hair, the fluttery tendrils twirled around her fingers. His hands are settled on her waist, slowly moving to her thighs.

“Is this okay?” he murmurs the serious question against her lips and she nods quickly. “Yeah.”

“Okay.” he breathes. “M’just checkin’.” 

“It’s okay.” she laughs breathlessly against his lips. “Everything's okay.”

Reluctantly, he pulls back slightly to look at her, searching for any sort of doubt, but there was none.

“Don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, okay?”

His voice is cautious. “M’not goin’ anywhere, ever. Don’t have to rush anything.”

“Just go with the flow, H.” she murmurs, sliding her hands up his clothed biceps.

“Sorry, who are you?” he raises his eyebrows, a baffled expression on his face. “Since when do you ever go with the flow?”

“A lot of things have changed today.” she confesses, hands resting on his shoulders. “Why not?”

They’d always felt so safe with each other, so now was no different. 

They both dived back into the kiss. Harry’s tongue swiped across her bottom lip, testing the waters before lips and tongue worked together to deepen the kiss.

“Wanna ride my thigh?” he wonders, mumbling against her lips. “Don’t have to if-”

“Yeah. yes.” she gulps, moving to slide her shorts down while he shuffles out of his jeans. Once they were both without pants, they didn’t waste anymore time.

“C’mere, darlin’.” he flicked his fingers, encouraging her back onto his lap.

“Just feel my touch.”

The tone of his voice was unbelievably hot, raspy and low as their lips continuously brushed. His hands grip her hips, guiding her movements.

“Feel good?” he suckles on her bottom lip, drawing a whimper past her lips. She’s rocking against his bare thigh, coarse hair stimulating her even closer to the edge.

“Feels so good, Harry.” 

Her moans are nothing short of melodic, chasing her orgasm through the lace. He pushes her t-shirt up, kisses are decorated down her neck until his mouth is on one of her breasts. She tilts her head back at the suckling sensation with another moan, and it’s so fucking intoxicating to Harry. His tongue flicks her nipple a few more times before lifting his head.

“Like that?” he hums, moving to cup her breasts. She nods and his thumbs start to tweak her nipples and she arches her back at the feeling.

“Harry.” she whimpers, gripping the material of his shirt in her fists. “Please.”

“Whatcha need, tell me darlin’.”

“M’gonna come, m’gonna come.”

He gives a thick moan, hands moving to hold her backside. “Know you are. C’mon angel, you can let go.”

His sweet words coax her through her orgasm as she’s coming down, and she feels like she’s floating.

“Did you like that?”

“Mhm.” she nods, her eyes fluttering closed as Harry’s hand brushes some baby hairs off her forehead. “Wanna keep going.”

“Jeez, at least let me take you out to dinner first.”

[atendersun-archived]

Mason & Fashion

For the most part, he styles himself in a way where he wants people to know that he does not want to be sexualized, or perceived by them in general. Additionally, he has somehow found a way to be so stuck in his patterns of dressing and experimental all at the same time.

Outside of athleticwear, he prefers his clothing pieces to be fitted to almost a tailored cut, but not so tightly fit that they accentuate his bulge / bottom. If anything, he’s actually more inclined to draw attention away from them completely by wearing predominantly plain, dark colored trousers that he pairs with bold tops.

He is not opposed to wearing feminine cut / styled tops such as button ups and blouses. His main hurdle is just finding something that can still function on his broader shoulders, yet that typically means he just strays away from anything with a ruffled sleeve, or is sleeveless entirely. Due to the change in weather, he can most often be seen sporting a crop top, open back, or cut out tee of any kind. The shapeliness and build of his upper body, along with his piercings, are what directs him into the path of showing all of that of any chance he gets. Will be long seen wearing a men’s cut wife beater tank than he ever would be caught in a women’s spaghetti strap style one, yet that could always change as he becomes more educated in what exactly androgyny means to him. As well as what does, or doesn’t, look good on his body.

Has discovered a new love of flared pants. Always in the mood for high waisted mom cut jeans just as long as he rests comfortably in the front. Otherwise, he will wear really any cut of men’s pants as long as they match his measurements and are within a price range he’s willing to pay. Will not touch a pair of leggings with a ten foot pole, and spandex is a definite no. Not afraid to rock a pair of shorts in the winter. Usually they don’t go very long out of personal preference, yet he can’t claim them as short shorts / booty shorts either on account that he has a thing about wearing articles of clothing that he fears will make people make sexual jokes about. That, and he still has that underlying worry about being perceived as “too gay” even though he is an openly queer man with an attraction to women he’s equally as open to talking about. It would take a substantial amount of money for him to walk out of the house wearing a really low cut shirt and very short shorts. There are men out there, did you know that? Also, he just likes money. He’s a greedy little thing, don’t let him into fooling you into thinking otherwise.

Would wear a long skirt only in really limited situations, such as at the home’s of people is really close to just as long as he doesn’t have to ride the bus, or at LGBT related events. Since he has a habit already of sitting, and even standing really, with his legs held tightly together the worry of flashing anything isn’t really there. It is more about knowing himself enough that he’s not sure yet if he’s comfortable not having two complete barriers between his private parts and the world. Has no interest in really wearing a short skirt, since the style aesthetics that he prefers to look into involve longer, sometimes more looser / baggier fits than they do short and revealing. He also just doesn’t feel any drive to them. At least if he bought a patterned skirt that goes down lower, he could live out his fantasy of being a hippie. That would be living the dream.

Dresses make up no percentage of his wardrobe, yet that is mainly due to him not knowing how to style them, or even going about knowing what type he should even look into getting. Will very happily try on what other’s have in their closet out of fun and curiosity, but wouldn’t know the first thing about accruing his own. His ideal style of one, he supposes, would be that it would have to be as flowy as possible, and make him feel beautiful. Letting his nerves get the better of him yet again, though, he is more drawn in by jumpsuits, especially those with a cape effect, than he is dresses.

Trying to put into words where his goals are in terms of fashion and dressing is hard for him for a variety of reasons. One is that he tends to slip into a dark headspace when he considers the question of if he has ever felt like a man his entire life. His answer would strangely be no, but that he has felt like a boy, so it just adds in a lot of confusion. He is also well aware that another circumstance holding him back is that he doesn’t want to be thought of as anything with an ill connotation by other men, such as those he has admired for years and years. What he’s less open to admitting, or even acknowledging, is that he would most likely be paired up with the free spirited, almost fearless in the face of being his true self as he had been as a young man if he would just rid himself of the weight on his chest. He wants to just be able to wear something as simple as a graphic t-shirt with cartoon characters on them, but because he so horribly dreads the possibility of endangering his survival over a Scooby Doo shirt surpasses that desire. He’s an anxious, easily intimidated individual, and he knows it.

Having the experience of hearing from a multitude of people that his physical appearance and intellect were not deserving of love to the point that it became a constant attack on his emotions that would eventually turn into a really jaded game of people figuring out how far they could take things for him to scream, or cry, has left him an incredibly scarred version of the bright eyed young boy that maybe loved everyone a little bit too much. Someday, he hopes, that he has found himself more established in his outward appearance as he does on the inside, but there is an abundance of unpacking that needs to be done in order to get there.

[burntmcnuggies]

A Hopeless Fight

Yandere Levi x Reader

Warning: this story contains blood, gore, and suggestive themes such as kidnapping, murder, non-consensual touching, forced sex, and drug usage. You guys have been warned! Now all of you who wanna read! Please enjoy! :D

Chapter Two: Betrayal

“Thank you, nurse (Y/N)!”

“Wow! You draw so good!”

“You’re my favorite nurse!”

All of the ill little kids ran around me happily with pictures of themselves I had drawn for them just moments ago. Their happy laughs warmed my heart, a feeling I would never forget. “Well, I hope to one day become your doctor. Sadly my little brother passed away from Lung cancer. I’ve made it my goal to help those with similar issues. Someday... I hope to find a cure for the diseases, and help people just like you guys, live a long and happy life.” The beautiful sparkle in their eyes spoke a million words to me. Admiration, happiness, enthusiasm, and most of all... hope. I kneeled down and smiled, opening my arms for the sweet kids to embrace. They came to me with happy smiles and childish giggles before enveloping me in a warm hug. I wrapped my arms around as many as I could, before grinning playfully. “Oh no... what’s this? Oh no! The tickle monster has escaped! Everyone run to the beds!”

The children energetically ran to the beds shouting and laughing happily while their small bodies climbed up into their hospital beds. It was getting close to their treatment time, and I need all of them to be good while the other doctors came in and administered their chemotherapy or steroids and antibiotics. “Alright now, you guys be good. I trapped the tickle monster for now, but if he hears another peep... or complaint by the doctors...” I pulled my hand up with a smile and moved my fingers towards them, wiggling them wildly like a spider. The kids laughed and shouted a flurry of protests to my hand. I brought up my other hand and took a step forward wiggling both my hands and fingers. “I may just let him go to tickle all those naughty children!!” I smiled warmly at their small giggles and childish protests and pleas for me not to bring the tickle monster back. A short laugh came fell from my lips hearing them so happy, so cheerful and lively. Just how my brother was until his last moments. “Goodbye, children. I’ll see you all later, alright?”

“Ok! Bye Nurse (Y/N)!”

“A-Ah! Nurse (Y/N)!” I turned hearing the familiar voice of Dr. Zöe’s assistant, Moblit. Poor man seemed like he hasn’t slept in what appeared to be days. Dark droopy circles were under his eyes, but I could tell by the way his pupils were dilated he had most likely been chugging caffeine like crazy. “Oh, hey Moblit! What’s up? You seem in a rush.” He looked quite frantic, I wonder if something happened?he had an entire box full of medical supplies in his hands. I took a peek inside and realized it was the medicine for the children. Ah, so that’s why he looks so frantic. Before he could open his tired mouth I stopped him. “The children should be all good now, Moblit. I’ve put them in their beds and they should behave while you and some other doctors give them their meds.”

He sighed in relief. “You’re really the best, (Y/N).” He caught a few other doctors in the hallway and called them to help him administer the medicine faster. I only gave him a smile and waved goodbye as the dirty blonde and a team of lower ranked doctors walked calmly into the room. I turned on my heel to start down the hallway towards my next task, before Moblit stopped me. “Oh! I forgot to tell you! Hanji would like to see you in her office.” I tilted my head a bit in confusion. Just an hour ago at lunch she had assigned me a couple tasks to do before I went home. Maybe she needed my help with something? Or a new task for me to complete. “Oh ok! Thank you, Moblit! And get some sleep tonight! You need it!” He just smiled sheepishly and waved bye as he disappeared behind the sliding glass doors.

I began my journey towards Hanji’s office, but I couldn’t help but feel a bit paranoid walking down the hallways. After learning that a serial killer was evident in town from the news, I couldn’t help but feel extra cautious. No one has seen this suspicious and stealthy individual. Is it a man? A woman? All I know is, they knew what they were doing. There was no evidence whatsoever linking anyone to the crimes at all. Nothing. The wave of paranoia washed over my body like a tide coming in during the night. Rough, unexpected, and dangerous. The tides have been known to drag people into rip currents and drag them far below the surface. These currents also known as curiosity. You couldn’t help but wonder the motives of the person behind all of this. Pleasure? Revenge? A sadistic nature? It was all confusing. Taking a human life, even thinking of the heinous crime made vomit rise in my throat.

I shook my head firmly and swallowed thickly, pushing the repulsive thoughts to the back of my brain to be revisited at a possibly later date. My eyes trained on everyone I passed by. Any one of these people could be the murderer, playing a façade to trick innocent people. You could never be too careful, however, I would soon pay the price for my carelessness. I finally arrived at Hanji’s office and gave three firm knocks, awaiting a response from the messy-haired brunette. A faint reply came from the other side of the wooden door, and I carefully pushed it open, closing it behind me before I made my way to the chair opposite of her mahogany desk. She looked quite distressed, which was unusual for the eccentric woman.

“Hey Hanji, what’s up? You seem a little out of it. Are you okay?” I noticed a thin layer of sweat graced her forehead, and her muscles were oddly tense. Her hands wouldn’t stop fidgeting, whether it be with each other or anxiously pulling at loose hangnails. During my studies at med school, I quickly identified the signs. Nervousness. It was very out of character for Hanji. In all honesty, it made me more paranoid than I already was. “I’m fine, (Y/N). I promise you. There’s an ambulance coming in a few minutes with a couple bags of blood. It’s not like we need them, but it’s always good to be over prepared right?” I hesitated before I nodded. Why was she acting so strange? Is she just as bothered by the news earlier than I am? At lunch she seemed fine, why now? “Would you mind assisting me?”

“Oh! Sure! When’s the ambulance coming?”

“Soon. We should head down now just to ensure that we’re there in time so we can get that blood cold.”

I have her a small fake smile and nodded. Her fingers calmed for a brief moment before she began to type on her computer, pushing her glasses up to her head. Usually l could always see what she was doing from the reflection off her glasses. It was never anything bad, usually writing up reports or checking on patients. It was almost like she was hiding something. “You’re too smart for your own good sometimes, (Y/N).” I perked up hearing the sudden compliment come from her. The last click of the keys was heard and she closed her laptop, slipping her glasses back over her eyes. “Pardon?” I questioned, a bit taken aback by her sudden compliment about me smart. She smiled with a laugh and skipped on over to me, patting my back harshly as if I were choking on something. “I said you’re smart! I’m incredibly lucky to have such an amazing med student going to work for me in the future!”

“Ow, that kinda hurt a little! But thank you Hanji! I’m very excited to finish up and come back to work here full time.” Maybe I was just being too paranoid. There was no way Hanji could be worried. She’s a bit scary when she wants to be. Maybe she’s just having a bit of a stressful day? We strolled down the corridors towards the East wing of the hospital, talking about nothing in particular. When we reached the stairs Hanji had grown painfully quiet. It made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Why was she being so quiet all of a sudden. “Geez... I’m so tired. Maybe I should finally get some sleep tonight!” She turned back to me and showed me a tired and lazy smile. I nodded in agreement, flashing a kind smile back towards her. “Yeah. You work yourself to death here Hanji. It’s very admirable, but you’re still human too.”

“Guess you’re right! Here we are!” She opened the doors to the loading area where nurses and other hospital staff were usually down here loading boxes, stocking shelves, and collecting deliveries. However, it was empty. I tilted my head in confusion. “Where is everybody?” Hanji waved off my question with a sly grin as she waited now enthusiastically for the ambulance to arrive. Her mood swings were a bit alarming. Maybe she really is just too tired and she’s trying to act like her usual self. Not the first time I’ve seen it, but this time her kids swings were more frequent and clear. “Ah, I let them go home early half an hour ago. This is the last shipment for today that called last minute. Didn’t wanna call them back! We’re strong, confident, independent women! We can do this by ourselves!”

I roll my eyes and smile patiently waiting for the ambulance to arrive. Soon, the square looking vehicle had rounded the circular pavement and stopped right near the door. A man got out of the front of the car, rather short I had to admit. He wore a hat that covered a majority of his face, and dark sunglasses. He wore some scrubs, which was very uncommon for someone in an ambulance. Usually they would wear similar outfits as policemen, however there would be differences in the patchwork on their shirts. The man approached us and nodded, tipping his hat to Hanji as a silent greeting. I placed a fake smile on my lips while Hanji went to grab the clipboard from his hand.

“(Y/N)! Could you go grab the boxes from the truck!” I gave her a firm nod and opened the doors of the ambulance, my eyes instantly falling upon a couple styrofoam boxes. I hopped up into the chilly space of the square-like space and made my way to the boxes. The boxes were a bit heavy, but I assumed there were at least 10 pints in each. Only three boxes in total. I made my way out of the ambulance and watched Hanji and the man from the ambulance talk. “Thanks, (Y/N)! I’ve gotta talk to my friend for a minute so keep working without me!” I placed the box down near the door and walked back towards the two. The man quickly snapped his head towards me and I couldn’t help but flinch in surprise. “Oh sorry! Don’t mind him! He’s a hit on edge from all the murder talk...”

“Oh! No I totally get it, sorry if I startled you sir.” I smiled at him and went back to work grabbing the last two boxes. During those few minutes, I could feel a pair of eyes penetrating my skull with every move I made. I took a couple glances and noticed a pair of dark covered eyes following me whenever I moved. A chill went down my spine. Something seemed off, something just wasn’t quite right. When I picked up the last box, it wasn’t even the least bit heavy. I tilted my head in confusion before I turned around. I took a blind step forward before I came to my senses and saw the short guy in scrubs standing and blocking my way out of the car. “Ah, excuse me, sir.” I said politely and smiled towards him. The man still refused to move. Now it was getting suspicious.

I stepped forwards a bit and attempted to get past him, but suddenly something sharp stabbed my neck. I jerked quickly away in pain and dropped the box, noticing a syringe in the mans hand, without any liquid in it. My body began to feel woozy, and I stumbled a bit feeling my body going numb. “What... did you do... to me...?” The man caught me swiftly when I began to fall, and he easily threw me into the back of the ambulance. I groaned in pain and gasped weakly at the sudden pain that erupted from my side. My vision was beginning to blur, but I could focus just enough to make out their faces. Hanji and the man stood at the foot of the ambulance, both just staring at me. “Well done! I didn’t think you would actually be able to hit her correctly with the needle!”

Hanji...? What’s going on?

“Tch, shut up shitty glasses. The main thing is that she’s in the truck.” Why? Why Hanji?! Why are you doing this?! Suddenly, I could barely feel the edge of the ambulance dip as they both climbed back in to come to me. The man took off the hat and glasses, and revealed his face to me. It was Corporal Levi, the man who was supposed to be solving the case of the serial killer. Wait... does that mean?! “Gotta hand it to you, brat. You’re not as stupid as you look.” He grabbed my hair and tugged my face up. I winced weakly and felt my vision slowly start to fade. I could still hear faint voices, but they seemed so far away. Hanji’s regretful face was the last thing I saw. My friend... or so I thought. “I’m really sorry, (Y/N). But... like I said earlier, you’re just too smart for your own good.”

And I lost consciousness, with a heavy burden on my heart. Sadness bubbling in my chest. My mind was plagued with one singular thought.

The reasoning behind my friends betrayal.

[the-awkward-outlaw]

Hello! Could i request a drabble where orphan!reader gets picked up by the gang only after a few months Arthur does? He's like highkey jealous of the new golden child until she's in a bad situation to get hurt and he instantly goes protective, kinda ends up realizing she's part of his family too along the way. Also i send many praises your way ~ you're so talented and thank you for doing these requests!!

This one turned out greatly different from what I planned, but that’s one of the joys of being a writer. You don’t always know what’s going to happen either. I’ve also never written a young Arthur, so this was a new experience. Anyways, enjoy! There’s blood, violence, poor Spanish (on my part), and it’s topped with a big serving of fluff at the end. 

Masterlist

Read on AO3

Arthur leans against the fence, glaring across the paddock at you. You’ve been a thorn in his side ever since you showed up four months ago. He used to think John was bad enough, but you… you’re worse.

Dutch and Hosea brought you in, covered in dirt and thin as a bone, but your pockets laden with stolen trinkets. You’d foolishly tried to rob Dutch himself, hoping to find something you could sell in order to get the day’s meal. Never before had you been caught stealing, but it was hard to fool a pro like Dutch. He instantly knew what you were up to, but he and Hosea saw your potential when they unloaded your pockets and saw all your ill-gotten gains. 

Over the next few months, Dutch and Hosea both taught you to read, Grimshaw taught you how to clean and Arthur was told to teach you how to use a gun, though he hated it. He couldn’t believe someone as old as you (though you were a few years younger than him and he was nearly twenty) could barely do anything. He’d heard the story that your parents died when you were very young, taken by yellow fever. After their deaths, you were sent to an orphanage but it was so overcrowded, filthy and miserable you ran away and lived on the streets where you were more likely to scrounge up a meal. Still, Arthur didn’t care for you. 

Hosea and Dutch boasted about you as you were eager to learn. You picked up reading and writing extremely fast and Grimshaw had no problem teaching you how to do the domestic work around camp. You liked doing them even, as they kept your hands busy (even though the work itself was dull). Arthur felt smug when you struggled to learn how to shoot a gun or skin an animal, ignoring the remarks by Hosea that he was more likely to blame for being a poor instructor. It was no secret Arthur was jealous.

But how could he not be? For years, it had been just him, Dutch and Hosea. They were the perfect trio and the two men were more like a family to him than he’d ever known before. When Grimshaw entered the picture, it didn’t change things much. In fact she was a bonus as she taught Arthur how to repair his clothes. But when John Marston came, that was when things turned. Dutch and Hosea rescued him when he was only 12 and standing on the gallows, a rope around his neck. 

John became the golden boy after that and Arthur felt he was pushed to the side. He tried time and again to gain his status back, to be the favorite boy. He just wanted the same attention he used to get instead of having most of the work thrown on his back. Sure, John learned the proper ways of being an outlaw, but Dutch and Hosea doted on him. Things went on this way for nearly four years and then you entered the picture. 

There’s been a lot of resentment Arthur holds towards you. Since he was a few years older and definitely looked like an adult, he was intimidating. Not only that, but he’s been running with the gang for most of his life. You, well, the easiest way to put it were a nobody. Just some orphan girl who could barely pick up a knife before you came here. And now here you are, raking in all the glory while he does all the work. 

He sighs, his eyes boring into you. You’ve been wise to avoid him the past couple of days, ever since the robbery. Hosea had taken you into town, targeting a rather rich man who would be easy to rob provided he had something to distract him. Hosea had gotten you to pretend to be his daughter and to have a fit. You’d played the part brilliantly and the man was too easy to rob, and the take was excellent. Arthur was supposed to go with him on that job, but he’d been out with Mary so Hosea took you instead. 

Arthur’s mood dips even further when he thinks about Mary. They’d had another big fight and he wasn’t too sure she’d contact him again this time. He loves her, but he isn’t too sure that feeling is reciprocated. A few weeks ago, they’d been out together and some man tried to pick a fight with Arthur. That was the first time Mary saw his outlaw side and it scared her how quickly Arthur drew out his gun and he hadn’t even flinched when he pulled the trigger. They’ve been fighting ever since. Part of him regrets giving her that ring last time he saw her. He felt he was making a commitment to her, but she might not be willing to do the same. He’s started to see how easily she plays him. 

A loud giggle draws him out of his mind again and he looks back up at you and Hosea. He doesn’t want to be here anymore, at this old house the gang has been occupying for the last few months. He goes over to his horse, his mind set on taking a ride and being gone for a few days. Maybe that’ll help him clear his head and he can get away from you. Just as he’s about to mount up, Hosea walks over with you in tow. 

“Arthur, where you going?”

“Just… around. Be back in a few days.” 

“Well, take Y/N with you.” 

“Why?” Arthur shoots back. 

You lower your head. You know he’s not fond of you. 

“Because she needs to learn how to survive out there. Teach her how to set up a campfire, go fishing, hunting. She needs the experience.” 

“Why can’t you or Dutch take her?” 

“Arthur, she’s your family too, whether you like it or not. Besides, me and Dutch might have something cooking up. Just take her and don’t get her lost!” 

Arthur groans but relents. Despite his annoyance, you flash a big grin at him and grab your horse. He doesn’t wait for you to get settled into the saddle before he’s running. Nothing has ever felt like a bigger weight than dragging you along. 

For the next few hours, he leads you on down south towards the San Luis River. He hopes you won’t complain about the heat, the bugs or the snakes. You don’t though. You try to pick up a conversation with him a few times, but when he doesn’t take, you settle for gazing at the surroundings. The sky is so beautiful down here, feeling somehow closer. 

Over the next several hours, Arthur continues further south and west, down below Tumbleweed even. You’ve never been this far out west, but you like it. The land is incredible, growing in strange, hot formations. The water from the distant river has a richer color than it does back east. 

Several times, Arthur tries to lose you. He just wants some peace and quiet, some room and space to think. Besides, if he really wanted to talk with someone, you’d be the last person he’d pick. Unfortunately, you stick to him as efficiently as a determined fly. He just can’t shake you off. 

By the end of the night, Arthur is more than irritated with you. He shows you how to pitch a tent and make a fire, but he grumbles the entire way through it and he doesn’t do a very thorough job. You feel you’ve learned nothing, but you know his patience is short enough as it is without you acting stupid, so you pretend to know what you’re doing. You lie down in your bedroll, your head sticking out enough so you can still see the stars. 

Arthur, lying in his own tent, continues to glare at you. You’re still young enough to retain your naivety towards the world, and part of him despises you for it. He’s started to see how ugly it all is, how ugly his way of life is. At least he can hold onto the smug thought that someday, in a couple of years or maybe even sooner, you’ll see it too. 

Halfway through the night, Arthur’s startled awake. He’s always been a light sleeper, and he’s even more so when sleeping out in the wilderness like this. You’d snored particularly hard and that was why he’d woken. He sighs heavily when you give another loud snore. Why did he get saddled with you? 

A horrible thought comes to him. What if he just ditched you? Hell, a couple of days on your own out here would do you some good. He’d come back for you of course, he’s not stupid enough to return to the gang without you. Hosea and Dutch would be furious. He won’t set that kind of example for the 12 year old John neither. After thinking on it for a while, he quietly collapses his tent and gets on his horse, riding away into the night. 

He doesn’t go far, of course. He’s not so cruel to leave you completely unattended, but he’s rather interested to see how you’ll handle yourself. Besides, it’ll distract him from Mary and maybe he’ll even get a good laugh. 

He settles himself far enough away that the only way to keep an eye on you is through his binoculars. You surely won’t be able to see him. He sets up his own tiny camp and sleeps a while longer. 

Hours pass and the sun rises, forcing you to wake. After rubbing your eyes, you look around to find Arthur’s things gone. The sight causes you to leap out of your tent. Did he abandon you? No, you think. Arthur may dislike you, but you refuse to think him cruel enough to do that. The only conclusion you can think of is that someone took him. However, after inspecting where his tent had been, you see no signs of another person or even an animal around. Everything you can see points to the fact that, at some point, he’d just gotten up and left. 

You sit down near the hot coals of what’s left of last night’s fire, place your elbows on your crossed legs and plop your chin on your hands. You’ve been trying so hard to stay out of Arthur’s way, to not give him a reason to hate you. It’s not your fault that Hosea and Dutch dote on you so much. Personally, sometimes it makes you a bit nervous, like they’re setting you up for when you finally mess up. But did Arthur really hate you enough to just leave you like this? Will he tell Dutch and Hosea that you drowned or ran off or something, give them some kind of excuse behind your absence? Probably. 

The thought of what lie Arthur might come up with sparks an anger you’ve never felt before. Dutch and Hosea took you in, offered to give you a new life with meaning to it. You’re not some orphaned kid living in the street like a rat anymore. You’re an outlaw, and outlaws are brave. You won’t give Arthur the satisfaction of knowing he bested you. Somehow, someway, you’ll find your way back to the gang’s hideout. You smile when you think of the shocked expression on Arthur’s face when you show up. 

After eating a tin of peaches, you clumsily pack up your tent and stuff it into your saddlebags, ignoring that a large section dangles out (you tried stuffing it in but it just wouldn’t fit). You kick dirt onto the coals, sufficiently dousing them and then you mount up, determined to head back home. Unfortunately (and under the watchful eyes of Arthur), you start heading east, but you’re not going far enough north. 

Arthur doesn’t stop you though. He follows you, constantly checking on your progress and chuckling to himself when you continue the wrong way. He’s provided another good laugh when you pull out the bow Dutch had bought you a few weeks back, but you’ve never used before. It’s clear you’ve never shot a bow before, Arthur watches you struggle to notch an arrow and then try shooting it at a grazing pronghorn. The arrow flies forward about five feet before it lands on the ground. The tip doesn’t even get buried in the sand. 

Several more times you try to shoot the arrow, but with little progress. You shoot on and on until the muscles in your arms and ribs throb painfully. Arthur only left you with a few cans of food and a bit of dried beef. Certainly not enough to allow you to survive a few days on your own. But you’ll manage. One of the benefits of being an orphan on the street was you learned how to go a day or two without food. It’s not fun, but you can do it. 

A few more hours pass and you’re miserable. Your stomach is growling, but you refuse to eat any of your precious reserves. The sun beats down hard and unrelenting, burning your arms. You’re grateful for your tattered hat as your head and face are spared. 

As the sun begins its slow descent in the sky, you come across a small lake. On the south end is an empty cabin. Perhaps you’ll have the good fortune of being able to stay there for the night. After setting up a good place to sleep in the cabin and unsaddling your horse, you take out your fishing pole. However, you don’t know the first thing about fishing and no one bothered to set it up before giving it to you. You know there’s some complicated knotting to it all, and that’s about it. 

As the sky grows a bit darker and you’re given a break from the unforgiving heat, you scour the land for any kind of edible plants. The problem is  you really don’t know what’s safe to eat, or if some plants must be boiled or cooked before they’re safe. It’s all new territory for you. After finally crumbling and eating some of the dried beef, you go to bed, your stomach still demanding more food. 

Arthur chuckles to himself from the safety of his own camp, a rabbit cooking over the fire. You’re really out of your element here. Finally, there’s something he can boast about that you can’t do. Of course, he knows that if Dutch and Hosea ever find out, they’ll be furious, but Arthur’s sure you won’t ever tell them. Especially when he comes back to get you and you find out he was never far away. After eating, he lies down on his bedroll, his hands behind his head. He looks up at the stars, smiling a bit. Depending on how badly you do tomorrow, he’ll fetch you and bring you home. 

Morning comes once again and Arthur sits up. After clearing his eyes, he pulls out his binoculars and easily finds the cabin you spent the night in. Your horse is still where you left it, but there’s no sign of movement from the cabin. Figuring you’re just tired and hungry, he waits for you to come out. However, when midday comes and he still hasn’t seen you, he grows worried. After packing up his things, he rides to the lake. 

When he arrives, he pauses, listening, waiting. Still nothing. He puts his horse next to yours and inspects it. Your horse greets him with a soft whinny, but she’s clearly hungry in this tiny paddock with no food to browse on. Something’s wrong. You care about your horse more than anything, you’d never let her starve. He gives her a quick pat and then heads into the cabin, hoping you’re not sick or overly distraught. 

When he opens the door, his stomach plummets. The cabin is strewn with signs of a struggle, furniture toppled over. A table lies on its side, one leg splintered off. The mess looks fresh, like it happened within the past few hours. The bed in the corner shows signs of having been slept in. It takes him only a second to realize that sometime during the night, someone or maybe even a few people came in and kidnapped you. 

Arthur’s not a pro at tracking, especially people. That’s one of his weak spots, but he knows he has to do his best and find you.It’s not even the thought that Dutch and Hosea will kill him if he tells them, it’s that he never intended for you to get hurt during his little prank. He has to fix this.

*****************************************************

You’re tied up to a post in the middle of a paddock, the sun unforgivingly beating down on you. Your throat cracks with nearly every breath, desperate for water. Your skin screams for shade and sweat glides down your back beneath your shirt. During the last hour, your head has started to pound. 

When you’d gotten to the cabin last night, you believed, based on the thick coating of dust on every surface, that it hadn’t been occupied in several months. However, shortly after you’d fallen asleep, three men broke into it and captured you. You tried giving them a hard fight, but as they were bigger than you (and there were more than you), it didn’t take them too much effort to subdue you. 

When they managed to get you tied up and thrown over the back of one of their horses, they discussed a little. You couldn’t really understand them, as two of them spoke quickly in Spanish. The third, although being a white man, also spoke their language, though his was more broken as though he didn’t quite have a handle on it. After a few minutes, they mounted up and rode off, leaving all your things behind. As they cantered away, your hat fell from your head. 

A few hours later, your gut heaving painfully from being thrown over the horse’s rear, the trio slowed down and you saw in the darkness a small house and a large barn with several paddocks outside of it. As the group approached the property, more men came out, speaking again in Spanish. A few of the white members traded some words in English and it became clear what they were going to do. They were going to try and sell you as you were still young and desirable to a great number of men. 

Your blood pumped hard in your ears and you tried to break free or squirm out of your bonds, but they were too tight. One of the men grabbed you and you began thrashing and screaming, kicking him several times in the thighs and stomach. 

“Este tiene una pelea en ella. Hagamos que tenga sed,” he said. The others chuckled and nodded their heads. 

The man carried you into one of the smaller paddocks that had a large pole staked into the sun-baked earth. The ropes around your hands were cut just long enough that he and one of his companions could swing your arms behind you and tie them back together. It became quickly clear that the only way to free yourself was to try and attract the attention of anyone who was nearby, so you started to scream. 

“Cállate!” one of the men yelled and held a knife to your throat as tears slid down your cheeks. 

“No, déjala gritar,” said a particularly tall man. You gathered from his stance and his dusty clothes that he might very well be the leader of these men. “Se cansará, y no hay nadie aquí para escucharla.” 

The man holding the knife to your throat backed off and they all went back into the house or the barn. You knew you only had a few hours until the sun rose, so your best bet at escaping was now while you still had the strength and energy. However, those hours slid by quickly, and you hadn’t gotten anywhere. You’d twisted your arms, rubbing your wrists raw, but the rope held tightly. You’d screamed, but just like the tall man had said (though you hadn’t understood him), you screamed yourself hoarse. 

This is where you are now, trapped, being forced to await your inevitable fate. Not once have any of the men come out to check on you. Occasionally one will come out of the barn or the house and go to the other building, or step over to the wall of a small plateau to take a piss, but none of them ever interact or even seem to take notice of you. Sometimes you’ll hear one of them yell from the buildings, but other than that, all is quiet. 

As the day wears on, you wonder what the hell they’re waiting for. If they intend to sell you, why don’t they just drag you away. You almost don’t care anymore, you just want to get out of this sun. 

At one point, a vulture soars overhead and lands ominously on the roof of the barn, peering down at you with a liquid black eye. He stays there for a long time too, almost as though waiting to see if you’ll die. You know you won’t though. Not today anyways. Despite this horrendous torture, you’re not so dehydrated as to expire. If you’re in this same state in two days, it will be different, but you’re not there yet. One of the men shouts loudly inside the barn and the vulture takes flight. 

Finally, gratefully, the sun dips down to the horizon. Your mind wanders back to Arthur and how he just left you. Even though you’ve every reason to, you don’t hate him. Sure, you’re angry and hurt that he just disappeared during the night, leaving you completely alone. You’d looked up to him during these past few weeks. Despite being only a few years older than you, he had so much more knowledge and he had such a cool, collected attitude that you admired. Not only that, but he was good looking, even though you know he’s involved with another girl. Still, as your burnt skin aches and your wrists crack with dried blood, you can’t hate him. Hell, you would’ve probably done the same thing were you in his shoes. 

Stars flicker in the sky above as the horizon grows darker. As the air cools, you feel a slight surge in energy and you try to wriggle yourself free again. While you squirm, you realize if you angle your right hand in a flat shape and don’t clench your hand or wrist, you might be able to slip free. You do so and your hand begins to slide out. The rope catches at the widest part of your hand where your thumb grows out of your hand, but you angle it in such a way that the rope continues up and over. Finally, your arms fall loose. You’re free. 

You fall onto your hands and knees for a moment. Your legs are exhausted from being forced into the crouched position for so long and your feet have gone numb. You give yourself one minute to recollect yourself, then you stand up and start walking to the fence farthest away from the barn. 

Just as you’re climbing the fence, the barn door opens and you hear someone yell at you. As quickly as you can manage, you start running, but the whole group is aware now. They charge after you and two of them swing lassos around you. A shrill scream leaves your throat as you fall to the ground, the ropes tightening around your elbows, pinning them to your body. 

“Ah, still have fight in you,” one of the men says in a thick accent. He chuckles beneath his thick mustache. 

The tall leader glares down at you with a nasty smile. “Átala de nuevo, pero hazlo mejor. Asegúrate de que no pueda escapar esta vez.” The others nod and agree. The leader bends his knees to look you in the eyes. “Try to escape again, we will show you what we will sell you for.” 

A sickening chuckle goes around the circle from all the men. You can do nothing but try and look angrily back at him, though you’re terrified. He smiles, puts a cigar in his throat, and beckons to the two men holding you with ropes. 

Just as they bend to pick you up, a deafening bang echoes not far off and one of the men’s heads shoots out a thick stream of blood. He stumbles and falls, but just as the others are turning to look at the source of his death, another one falls, clutching his neck. You hear a horse thundering towards you, roaring as your captors return fire. You can’t see who it is through the tangles of legs between you and your rescuer, but a spark of hope flickers in your chest. 

As more men topple, you get the urge to fight. You start kicking the men closest to you, knocking them down and making them easy targets. You smash your heel into the ankle of one of the men holding your ropes. He falls and you climb onto him, slamming your fist into his face over and over. 

Just as the last of the men fall, you’re suddenly yanked from the man you’re beating. A thick arm goes around your neck and the barrel of a pistol gets shoved to your temple. 

“Drop your gun!” the tall man says. “You want her dead?” 

This is the first time you’ve been given the chance to look at your savior and your eyes land on Arthur. He looks angry and worried at the same time, his pistol pointed at the man. 

“Let her go,” he tells the man, who just chuckles. 

“I have the upper hand, chico. I make the rules. You want her alive? Drop your gun!”

Arthur complies and throws down his gun. The man’s finger fiddles a bit with the trigger and he laughs again.

“Good. I’ll give it to you, hijo. You can shoot real well. If it wasn’t my men dead, I’d invite you to my gang.” 

“And what gang is that?” he snarls. 

“Del Lobos, chico. I know you’ve heard of us.” 

Of course, the Del Lobos. The gang made of Mexicans and Californians looking to seize power after they themselves were stripped of their own. Honestly you’re surprised it’s taken you this long to run into them. Seems that most people who live south of Blackwater have dealt with them. Arthur’s eyes betray that he’s certainly heard of them. 

“Just let her go, buddy. She ain’t done nothin’ to you.” 

“Why she so important?” the tall man demands.

“Because… she’s my family. I just want to bring her home.” 

The tall man makes a mocking, simpering sound and then laughs again. “So sweet. Familia. Greatest strength there is, and yet the greatest weapon. But… I don’t want to let her go. She’s… how you say… valiosa. People pay lots of money.” 

Arthur’s eyes narrow. You know he won’t have any chance to save you if you just stand here and let yourself be a damsel in distress. Before Arthur has the chance to respond, you pick up your foot and slam it against the man’s shin. His hold on you loosens and his gun points up in the air as he cries out in surprise and pain. 

“Maldita sea!” he yells and Arthur takes the distraction, pulling out a knife and throwing it. His aim is true and the knife plunges into the man’s eye, throwing his head back as you duck and break out of his grip. 

When the man falls, gurgling as he dies, you look at Arthur, breathing heavily. He picks up his pistol and holsters it. Then, with a guilty expression, he looks at you. 

“Are… are you okay?” 

“Yeah, no thanks to you I might add.” 

He swallows. “I’m sorry. I didn’t really leave. I had my eye on you the whole time. Well, most of the time anyways. Thought.... Thought it might be interestin’ to see how you faired on your own.” 

“So me getting kidnapped, beaten and threatened to be sold was interesting to you, was it?” you snarl, your anger picking up. 

“No, it wasn’t. I didn’t think this would happen. Here.” From his satchel he pulls out a waterskin, handing it to you. You snatch it from him and drink greedily. While you’re drinking, he goes over to the man’s corpse and pulls out his knife, wiping it clean on the man’s clothes. 

Once you’ve had your fill of water, you hand Arthur his waterskin back and look around. By his horse you see yours not far behind. “Thanks for… for getting her. Saves me the trouble of having to track her down.” 

Arthur just grunts in response. “Well come on. Think we’ve had enough of an adventure.” 

The two of you mount up and begin riding off. As you leave the property of dead men behind, Arthur turns to you. 

“You aren’t going to tell Dutch and Hosea about this, are you?” 

How dare he ask you this? You nearly died back there, and if you hadn’t been killed and if Arthur hadn’t showed up, you’d have lost your freedom. 

Arthur looks at you with a sad expression. “I’m really sorry about all this. I… I don’t know why I thought leaving you alone out here was a good idea. Guess… with the way Dutch and Hosea talk about ya, it’s like you can’t do nothing wrong. Maybe I just wanted to prove I was better at somethin’ than you.” 

“Better at something?” you say. “Arthur, I’ve been idolizing just about everything you do for weeks now! I can barely hold a gun while you just shot like eight guys on your own back there. You can do a million things I can’t, and even the stuff I can do, you can do better.”

He sighs and looks ahead. “Don’t seem that way with how they talk about ya.” 

“Arthur, I don’t want to be the golden child in the gang, I really don’t. But I can’t control how they act over me. But… I won’t tell them about this.” 

He visibly relaxes and thanks you. 

“But can I ask,” you say, “why did you go to all this trouble to save me? It would’ve been easy enough to go home and tell the others that I’d just run off or something like that.” 

He sighs. “Because that wouldn’t be right. I… I couldn’t let you be killed by those men if I knew I could do something about it. I already have enough sins to carry, I don’t need to add your death to that list. Besides, you’re… you’re my family, miss. You, Dutch, Hosea, Susan… John. You’re my family. Sure, we ain’t always gonna get along, but no family does. Besides, I’d rather have you part of it than not.” 

You smile at him, your heart flooding with warmth and affection. That was the first time you felt something for him that was more than just admiration or idolization. 

You sit now on the bed, Arthur sleeping next to you. You’ve been dating him for a few months now, but it’s hard to think that you’ve known the outlaw for nearly twenty years. They haven’t been easy either, secretly being in love with him and watching him prance after Mary, finding out about Eliza and his son Isaac and then their deaths. 

Arthur’s grown remarkably since you were captured by the Del Lobos, and not just physically. He developed an extremely strong sense of loyalty towards Dutch, Hosea, you and even John, though he was badly hurt when John disappeared for a year after Jack was born. The gang’s grown remarkably since too, adding over a dozen more people. 

Arthur stirs awake beside you, rolling over to expose his strong chest. You smile when he looks up at you and sighs sleepily. 

“What you doin’?” he groans. 

“Just writing,” you say, closing your journal. Another habit you picked up from him. He puts his hand on your back and you lay down, plopping your head onto his chest after kissing his neck. He sighs again, his arm settling over you. 

“What you writin’ about?” 

“Nothing much. But you remember that first camping trip we took?” 

Arthur groans and chuckles a bit. “Oh God. That was awful. I don’t know why you liked me so much. I was the biggest ass.” 

“Maybe. But I thought you were cool. And maybe I kinda wanted to be like you.” 

“At least you were nice enough never to tell Dutch and Hosea.” 

You chuckle and slide your hand over his, which is resting on his stomach. You place a soft kiss over his heart and settle down to get some sleep. 

“Do you have to do this job in Blackwater tomorrow?” you ask. 

“Darlin’, I told ya. Hosea and I ain’t doin’ the ferry job. We’re just goin’ to town, gonna try workin’ on that real estate scam and keep an eye on things while Dutch and the others work on the boat.” 

“Mmm, good. Somethin’ doesn’t feel right about this job,” you say. “Just… promise me you’ll come home safe?” 

You look up at him. He can’t help but melt at your large eyes. He kisses your forehead. “I promise, sweetheart.” 

[apsaraqueen]

For the ask: Love & Sleep. I started listing questions and then realised there were only 5 I missed out, so... ALL OF THE QUESTIONS PLEASE. I WANT TO KNOW ALL YOUR BRAIN THOUGHTS ABOUT LS.

1: What inspired you to write the fic this way?

There’s a lot of ways to interpret this question! In terms of substance, I wanted to write the kind of classic “the Shitennou come back” fic for Jadeite and Rei (my OTP, of course) that I’ve always wanted to read - something long and layered that deals with what happens after the initial shock, distrust, etc. of the return and delves into what the process of forgiveness and rediscovery might really look like. And to be clear, I’ve definitely read a lot of wonderful takes on this concept, it’s not new and so many other authors have done it better, but I haven’t found any that focused on my favorite couple (if there’s one I’ve missed, PLEASE SEND IT TO ME). And then stylistically, I just kind of wanted to write something...indulgent. For myself, really. Slow-paced, dreamy, gentle. I hope it hits the mark.

2: What scene did you first put down?

Boringly enough - the first scene! Where Jadeite, now called Junin, comes back, taking place on the grounds of the shrine. I had the image in my head for a long time before I started the fic.

3: What’s your favorite line of narration?

I...have no idea. It honestly changes all the time. I’ll just pick a random one I like. It’s of Rei watching Junin (the reincarnated Jadeite) sleep. Not creepy at all, right? I like the level of comfort between the two it implies, and it’s just a tender, quiet moment with her thinking of him, and of what draws her to him.

Junin slept on his back, one arm tucked under his nape, the other tossed across his front; the length of his legs extended several centimeters past the rumpled sheets’ edge. A book propped on his chest bore an English title that made little sense to her. She knelt by his head, suddenly concerned he might be feverish, or taken ill. He wasn’t sweating, nor ashen. The priestess touched his forehead and found the temperature not dissimilar to her own.

Under her palm his eyebrows bristled, permanently arched where hers ran like the ties of train tracks. She felt fine sun-lines there that she couldn’t see. Against her fingers his hair was dense, grown now slightly off the scalp, lightened more from working outdoors. She took back her hand, put it in her lap. From time to time it still startled her, to be able to look at him like this, unrationed. Even here at rest, she thought there was control in his features, a kind of ruthless calm she’d never been able to help responding to.

4: What’s your favorite line of dialogue?

This is really hard because I wouldn’t call this a dialogue-driven fic. Why, you ask? Because I can’t write dialogue to save my life. A lot of this fic - maybe even the majority - exists between the spaces of what’s said, so the dialogue is pretty.........formless. If I had to pick, I’d probably go with this.

“I killed you,” she said, and couldn’t help but add, “twice.”

“You were right,” he told her.

“And I didn't want to,” she went on dully. “When you came I – thought you were a ghost.”

“You wish I were?”

“I wish I didn’t remember. What we did.”

“Them,” said Junin. “Not us.”

She said, low: “I wish we’d done – anything else.”

I liked writing this because while I definitely think there’s a part of Rei struggling to forgive Junin for what his past self did, I also think there’s maybe even a larger part that wishes none of it happened at all, that their history could be erased and they could start fresh, that recognizes culpability is often complex and not as one-sided as you maybe want it to be (this of course depends on how you headcanon the Silver Millennium going down - I like to imagine it wasn’t necessarily all Shitennou=bad, Senshi=good).

5: What part was hardest to write?

Urg. Writing the first Silver Millennium flashback was pretty hard. It took me forever to figure out the right tone that didn’t sound horribly stilted and Lord of the Rings-esque. Also hard trying to convey the differences between Mars/Jadeite and Rei/Junin along with the similarities. Rei, for example, is a lot more wounded and careful with her emotions, for obvious reasons, than Mars ever was. And while Junin is still capable of being somewhat morally ambiguous, he’s also genuinely a nicer guy than the more politically-minded Jadeite could be. I wanted to get that across without getting mired in irrelevant details about the past……….which I maybe need to save for another longwinded fic altogether. *bangs head on wall*

After the first flashback things fell into line, more or less, but I must have rewritten that first one, like, ten times.

6: What makes this fic special or different from all your other fics?

It’s longer than 12,000 words! AND took me more than double that to get to any smut! In seriousness, I think this is the first multichaptered fic I’ve written since, like.............high school.

7: Where did the title come from?

From the poem of the same name by A.C. Swinburne. It’s quite sexy, and the woman described in it sounds very much like Rei to my mind.

8: Did any real people or events inspire any part of it?

Normally, with most of my fics, I’d say yes...but in this case, not really. Other than the food. I most definitely drew on real-life inspiration - delicious things I’ve eaten, particularly while in Tokyo - for the food. You’ll never find me writing a fic without some gratuitous food pr0n in there for good measure. The wagashi shop the girls meet at is based on one I visited while there, actually.

9: Were there any alternate versions of this fic?

Not really. You could say this is in some ways an alternate version of another fic I wrote a while back, Tragedia? When I wrote that one I had in the back of my mind that someday I should write the same concept with a very different ending...and here we are.

10: Why did you choose this pairing for this particular story?

Because I love them! And I feel like I rarely see them happy in fic (to be clear, I do love my RxJ angst, so that’s not a bad thing!). I wanted to write a story for them that felt realistic and for lack of a better word, adult - that progressed in a natural way. I wanted to challenge myself to do it in a way that was slow-burning and relatively low-drama but not boring. And I wanted to see if I could sustain the tension and intimacy that makes their relationship so interesting to write, without resorting to my usual go-tos of smut (at least not immediately!) and angst.

11: What do you like best about this fic?

I’m happy with the atmosphere it conveys - sometimes moody, mostly serene. I worked really hard on that aspect and I feel like it maybe, kind of, sort of paid off!

12: What do you like least about this fic?

I wish it was wittier, more humorous in some places - I feel like it would add a sense of balance. That’s my biggest failing as a writer, I think; I really have no clue how to do comedy. I am not funny in the slightest.

13: What music did you listen to, if any, to get in the mood for writing this story? Or if you didn’t listen to anything, what do you think readers should listen to to accompany us while reading?

I had just seen Call Me By Your Name when I started writing it, so a lot of the soundtrack for that. Mystery of Love in particular. Also a lot of Rhye.

14: Is there anything you wanted readers to learn from reading this fic?

Learn? No, I don’t think so. Just trying to put more of my OTP out in the world in hopes of inspiring more of it!

15: What did you learn from writing this fic?

So much. Like I’ve noted above, this is the longest thing I’ve written in a long time and honestly I’m kind of amazed I’ve been able to stay motivated! Writing something longer requires, obviously, patience - you can’t just fire all your guns at once, you think of things you want to write RIGHT AWAY but then have to save them for later, you have to actually, ugh, have a structure………….this is all patently clear to a competent writer, but these are things I was pretty sure I’d forgotten how to do, so it’s been nice stretching myself this way.

Thank you for the ask, @coppercrane2 - this was so fun!

[a-stitch-in-time-and-space]

Various Feelings About ASIT Part 6: Doctors (and other lovers) Part 2 of 2

What I'm mainly trying to do in this part is reconcile what the book is – a love confession to Bashir – with what is in the text – the opening overtures to his romantic relationship with Parmak.

So I'm going to use a little bit of looking at Parmak as a probable reason why Bashir might've taken awhile to get to Cardassia after reading that novel:

Parmak and Bashir are comparable in the same way I feel Pythas and Palandine are comparable. The latter shared their names with him at Bamarren, helped train some of his later most recognisable (often unhealthily utilised) traits, are too caught up on the system themselves to be good for him and vice versa. The former challenge his ways of thinking, have witnessed parts of his worst self and offered forgiveness without a catch, are incredibly kind and giving, make him do better simply by existing as they do.

There are too many quotes and a half about Garak lamenting the change in his and Bashir's relationship. A couple of them seem to indicate Bashir's own awareness, at least of the fact that they don't communicate as easily as they used to, but one thing the book never gives us (for obvious reasons being this is Garak's pov) is Bashir's reasons for drawing away.

[Excerpt fromt the book: Bashir smiled and accepted the invitation. I led the way back into the shop, and while I coaxed two teas - one red lead and one Earl Grey - from my ancient replicator in the back, the doctor strolled about as if he were genuinely interested in the various sartorial displays. He was clearly ill at ease, and I wondered how the gulf between us had widened to such an extent. I was determined to narrow it.]

I can (and do) hypothesise and headcanon, but I'd like to know if any other novels give us more perspective – perhaps one of Una Mccormack's, but that's awhile down the road for me yet.  In any case, Bashir and Garak drift apart. I wonder whether it looks different from Bashir's pov – does he think it was Garak pulling away because of the Cardassian conflict – they have an argument about it earlier on, in which Bashir unwittingly is rude about their society and Garak lashes out at him – or did he just have some sense of perhaps tension between them post-wire, that he misread as a wish on Garak's part wishing for him not to be around as often. How much has to do with his own PTSD (unexplored on the show and, so far, in subsequent books)... here is where I go into my own territory and think that the person he had the most trouble hiding his emotions from was Garak and maybe it was subconsciously easier to stay away from him, lest he be honest towards someone who wasn't being honest back (or he had no idea how to process his crush, so ran away from it, which, mood).

[”I’m keeping you from your business,” Bashir stood up. “I won’t take up any more of your time.” “I’m pleased you stopped by.” I was about to escort him to the door. “No, you’re not,” he said quietly. “Excuse me?” “Garak, I come from a culture that has perfected the ‘stiff upper lip,’ he explained with the same faint smile. “What does that mean?” It was a genuine question; there was a change in his attitude. “It means that we never complain, never admit to our feelings, never ask for help. It’s just not done,” Bashir explained. “And those people who ‘lack character’ and insist on airing their needs - especially in public - are subject to ridivule... and worse. Does that sound familiar?” “Perhaps,” I replied softly. “But I’m also a doctor, Garak. And I know which group of people suffers the most. I really won’t take up any more of your time.” He extended his hand, which he rarely did, and I took it. “Thank you for the tea.” He turned and went out the door. I stood there for a long moment, deeply upset. I felt trapped within myself, knowing what I had to do to get out but unable even to begin. Yes, Doctor, it does sound familar.]

There's so much of interest to explore in terms of Garak feeling like Bashir abandoned him and then running to another doctor (maybe Bashir thought that Garak had left him in turn – must of stung to think of him with another doctor) – not that I'm calling Parmak a rebound.

[Extract from the book: - be given a new brain. I rather enjoy this peripatetic politicking. It’s something I would never have done on my own. In some respects his is so much like you, Doctor. If I’ve found someone’s opinion insufferably boring, he’ll kindly but sternly lecture me on the value of tolerance.]

They both represent pivotal parts of his healing process: Bashir on Deep Space Nine removes the wire, makes him feel less lonely, quite probably is the main component in his belief in inter-species co-operation, fundamentally changes the way he wishes to live (is the first person outside of the little Circle of Secrecy that knows Tain is his father?), Parmak on Cardassia helps him reconcile with his past, takes the beginnings of political concepts he'd discussed with Bashir and puts them into practise, also literally everything about the fucking Memorial Statues, not to mention that time when Garak fully breaks and he helps him recover, (and Garak tells him freely that Tain is his father).

(also both Bashir and Parmak are horrified by the thought that Tain is Garak's father, which, mood)

Where is the change then? How come Bashir didn't work out and Parmak does? The answer possibly lies in reciprocity – where Garak couldn't offer what Bashir needed in return, he could do that for Parmak. This isn't a judgement, I'd say the problem is that Bashir didn't know what he needed and Garak wasn't open enough to maybe fully be considered someone Bashir could go to (even if both Bashir and Garak might've wished he was), while Parmak is much more grounded in who he is as a person and by the time they meet, so is Garak, because he utilises those lessons he'd learnt from Bashir. Oh the irony.

[Excerpt from book. Parmak asks Garak for advice: “You know, Elim, I’m neither a soldier nor a politician. I’m a doctor.” “I do know that. I also know that we’ve been betrayed by our previous leaders. Our only hope is that men like yourself can offer an alternative.” “But you have the expertise that can... .“Doctor, I have an expertise that comes from survival and compromise. There’s already plenty of that on the other side... and it’s not an alternative that will create a new and lastinf union.” “No, I suppose you’re right,” he conceded.”  “You’re a doctor, yes, and that’s your strength. I’ve learned something about your profession over the past several years. Don’t think like a politician. Think of the planet as a patient barely hanging on to life. Think like a doctor. How would you save this planet?” He considered what I’d said in his careful manner.]

Maybe a good indicator is that Garak never actually directly told Bashir that his first-name was Elim.

And then A Stitch In Time happens and all of those things that no-doubt must've frustrated Bashir to no end that Garak wouldn't share with him are laid bare in their entirety in a way that sounds like he'd love nothing better than to finally pick up where they faltered, with no more lies and secrets... only problem is it sounds like Garak might've found someone else and now it's too late.

[Excerpt. The last lines of the book: It has become my personal totem. I hope that someday you’ll have the opportunity to see it. Nothing would please me more. You’re always welcome, Doctor.]

I would love to ask Andy if I ever meet him if he thinks Bashir would have come to visit after that letter, despite everything that was written subsequently. After all, the last words were an express wish to see him again. Even if just as his friend, I feel like Bashir would've wanted to take him up on that offer...

[strag-rp-sin]

5. Rimming

It took Shiro a few goes of fumbling with the lock, and another of dropping his keys on the floor entirely, to finally get the front door open. Maybe Yoshi shouldn’t have poured him those last few cups of sake at the restaurant.

“Hello?” Shiro called out as he wandered in, his boyfriend following at his heel. It was pitch black inside and there wasn’t a single pair of shoes lined up beside the front door. The only answer they received was an eager bout of mewing as one of his pets jumped down off the cat tree and came padding over to greet them. “I guess no-one’s home.”

Yoshinori smiled. “Good,” he said, wrapping his arms around Shiro’s middle. “Now I get you all to myself.”

He lifted the smaller man with ease, drawing a bout of surprised giggles from his throat. There was never any real privacy in this house. The few times he’d explored it in his cat form, it had always seemed bursting at the seams with identical little onis, and you could hear just about everything through its paper thin walls. He’d have to find Shiro a nicer place to live someday. Somewhere with real central heating, where he had his own space and plenty of room for all of his cats. Somewhere where he wouldn’t have to keep worrying about rent all the time.

Shiro’s cheeks were a rosy pink when his boyfriend laid him down on the living room sofa. “In here?” he asked, a little smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

“Why not?” The larger demon already had his hands at Shiro’s hips, working his trousers off of him. “We’re all alone, aren’t we?”

His fingers sank into the oni’s soft thighs as he pressed Shiro’s legs against his front. He always looked so cute like this, his ass quivering in the air where he lay. He knew just exactly what his boyfriend wanted from him too, hooking his arms around his calves and holding himself in place.

Yoshi’s smile was sweet and tender as he leant down to press a kiss to Shiro’s skin. “Good boy.” His deep red lipstick left a mark in its wake, plastered right alongside his hole. “Stay still for me now.”

Again he kissed him. This time however, his lips pressed against Shiro’s rim, making him smile when he felt it twitch beneath him. Next he used his tongue, lapping back and forth, listening to every sweet little whimper his boyfriend let out. It wasn’t until Yoshi pushed it inside him though that Shiro finally moaned.

He was tight. Shiro was always tight. He swore that in all his hundreds of years of living, he’d never fucked anyone that felt quite so good. Maybe it was just how the little oni’s body was. Or maybe it was because Yoshinori was so hideously and irreparably in love with him that he couldn’t imagine ever being with anyone else anymore.

As soon as Shiro’s hole was nice and slick and his cock was hard between his legs, a little bead of pre-cum dripping from its tip, Yoshi got out his own erection and moved forwards, pressing it to his lipstick-smeared rim. It slid inside so easily. In no time at all the demon was balls-deep and laying atop his lover, pressing sweet kisses to his lips instead.

“I love you,” he murmured as he started to fuck him.

Shiro’s cheeks flared an even deeper red. “I love you too.”

Neither of them heard the front door open. Saburo had gotten back from the strip club, his wallet significantly lighter than when he had left, and he wasn’t in the mood to deal with any of the layabouts he shared a house with. At first he merely thought one of his brothers was watching porn a little too loudly. Then he noticed a pair of geta he didn’t recognise in the genkan and furrowed his brows, slipping out of his own shoes as he stomped to the living room door and slid it open with a bang.

“Can’t any of you fucking animals do that in your room?!”

The moaning on the other side of the sofa stopped, but to Saburo’s horror it wasn’t one of his brothers that lifted their head to look at him. It was the CEO of the company he worked for, none other than Lord Kumori’s eldest son himself, Lord Yoshinori. Saburo stopped dead in his tracks, his look of anger quickly fading away.

“You’re one of Setsumi’s underlings, aren’t you?” Yoshi asked, speaking as though this were a casual exchange. “Niji... Niji...” He paused for a moment before he realised exactly what was going on with the sextuplets’ names and smirked. “Saburo?”

The third brother’s face paled even more than usual. “Y-Yes!” he answered in half a squeak. How did Lord Yoshinori know his name? And then he realised - he saw a little head poking up from behind the sofa, his brother’s identity clear as day. “Shiro?!” he cried out in disbelief. Of all the brothers he’d expected Lord Yoshinori to be interested in, he had to admit that Shiro wasn’t one of them.

“Yes,” Yoshi said, his hands stroking at the boy’s hair as he pulled him in close. He was still smiling and yet his eyes had darkened. It was clear he wasn’t going to allow even Saburo to speak ill of him. “Is there something wrong with Shiro?”

Shiro had looked embarrassed at first - now he could see his brother dithering and remorseful in the face of his boyfriend, he was smug instead, giving Saburo a self-satisfied smirk. He wasn’t about to let him forget this in a hurry.

“No!” Saburo insisted quickly with a shake of his head. “N-No, M’Lord, I...” He bowed his head as deeply as he dared before fleeing, making Shiro burst out into a fit of giggles.

“Perhaps the living room wasn’t the best idea,” Yoshi said.

“No, it was,” Shiro replied.

[marauder--harder]

do u think u could describe how u envision the marauders to look?? i think it would be fun to see your interpretation of them

Okay ever since I got my new fancy laptop I have been trying to work up my skills to the point where I could actually draw the marauders as I have envisioned them but I am nowhere near that skill range yet so this is the next best thing. 

It really depends on the age of the marauders on how I view them and my moon so if you see my work (hopefully) someday and it doesn’t look anything like this description, fight me 

James Potter:

he’s the most varied marauder I think of, his appearance constantly changing slightly

okay so I see him as someone who is maybe poc, maybe not it really depends on my mood as to how I view him 

for sure he is tanned though

no pale ass motherfucker here, you know?

like even if he was white the hours of practice on the field has him a perfect golden glow about 75% of the year

he’s the definition of ‘sunkissed’ every year when he comes back to hogwarts (whatever your ethnicity you picture for him, fight me on this, you can’t deny that he isn’t just radiating from how much sun he has gotten. he’s just beaming, regardless if he’s white, or black, or indian, or whatever)

has messy, curly, black hair that has looked the same from years 1-6

looser curls, nothing too springy (in my usual headcanon for him) 

year 7 he cuts his hair, and really it is just a trim, and finally learns how to make his messy hair work for him (totally has just a bit of 70′s greaser look to it, with no product of course because we already know that nothing tames his hair)

the darkest hazel colored eyes that are always full of expression (it is what makes him a shit liar tbh)

is moderately tall (something he boasted about in his youth until Remus hit his growth spurt and then so did Sirius)

I put him to be about 5′11 by the end of his 7th year (which is above average of the English man, although if he was Indian from the UK then this makes sense as there have been studies that show that Indians from the UK are significantly taller)

has the build of the mix between a swimmer and a baseball player

lean boy, who is very toned essentially

has the biggest smile

lips on the thinner side

hard jaw, soft eyes, prominent nose

high cheekbones and slender face

ears that stick out just slightly

long ass eyelashes that he hates because of his glasses

size 10 shoe (US sizing)

Sirius Black: 

my pale, pale bean (only in the winter) 

has a naturally fair complexion but does get tan in the warmer seasons as he is often outside (with James especially after he moved in with him)

had his hair cut short as a kid and hated it, thus when he got to Hogwarts he was so happy that he didn’t have to cut his hair

that’s what made him grow it out

he’d take good care of his hair, as it was a very big source of pride for him, taking it as a symbol of independence from the house of Black

by the time 6th year hit it was almost resting on the tips of his shoulders

has shiny, wavy black hair (looks damn good in a bun, which he would only do when playing sports)

broader and more stocky than James naturally, just a wider build

more of a wrestler’s physique I suppose (not giant but like mediocre wrestling, probably in the 160ish weight class??)

thicc thighs

sometimes I think he is slightly bow-legged???

shorter than James by half an inch until the end of 6th year

by the time he is a grown adult he is 6′0 but once he comes back from Azkaban he is 5′11 if not 5′10 because he can’t hold himself the way he used to

chiseled features, yet still soft somehow

eyebrow game is strong with him

always a mischievous streak in his grey eyes 

has crows feet and smile lines when he laughs

flashing, pearly white grin

not thin lips but not necessarily plush either; pretty average (albeit talented)

small ears but he hides them well with his hair

also has a piercing in them

size 11.5 shoe (US sizing)

Remus Lupin

lanky boy

literally all gangly pile of arms and legs until 6th year

was the scrawniest boy, always slightly taller but never considered tall in his youth

his scars used to be a lot darker as a kid, more of a pink color but they fade to a whiter color as he ages

has a scar across the bridge of his nose, down the side of his temple and jaw to his throat

two more longer ones across his right collarbone

floppiest mop of sandy brown curls on his head 

wears glasses for reading (they are square)

after his 5th year summer he comes back taller than all the other boys

is at least 6′2 but I lean more towards 6′3, fight me

broad shoulders

over time his scrawniness turns into toned leanness (if that makes any sense)

like he still looks scrawny until you take a closer look and notice the subtle tone in his arms

b r o a d   s h o u l d e r s 

literally if you want a better description, read TTY ;)

green eyes that shift from lighter to darker depending on the lighting and seasons (darker in warmer months, lighter in the winter)

literally the palest thing ever 

perpetual darker circles under his eyes from lack of sleep (giving the appearance of dopey exhaustion, not being ill)

lush, pink lips that contrast greatly against his fair skin

chapped lips from September through April that he makes worse by constantly licking his lips

perfectly straight teeth on top (a few crooked ones on the bottom but nothing too major)

freckles. freckles. freckles. 

all over his cheeks and nose and down his arms and across his back. it is lovely.

prominent adam’s apple

slender, long face with defined jaw (only after 6th year)

legs for days (all of his pants are just a tad too short and it is so endearing because of his patterned socks)

defined cupid’s bow!!

size 13 shoe (US sizing)

Peter Pettigrew: 

slightly chubby

like a little bit thicker thighs and a tummy, someone who looks like they haven’t lost their baby fat yet

shortest of the gang, about 5′7 or 5′8

blonde hair, dark blue eyes that everyone say is the prettiest thing about him

a slightly olive complexion

burns like mad in the sun, can never get a tan

freckles all over his face

the most adorably pinch-able cheeks,

high cheekbones and round face, very soft features

long eyelashes, rivals any girl and everyone is mad jealous

cute button nose

thin lips

big ears that grows into fairly quickly (by the end of 2nd year) but is always self conscious about them

had an outie belly button until the age of like 4 and then it reduced to an innie

crooked teeth and never had braces, hated smiling too wide because of it

always had an innocent look about him, even when he was being a little creep 

has a sweet smile, regardless of the fact that he doesn’t like to do it

soft shoulders (like not broad or very square, if that makes any sense)

size 9.5 shoe (US sizing)

[haikyuuheadcannons]

May I have a male matchup, please and thank you.

Under a cut this this is a Long one

Hi, I hope I got in before the deadline, if not feel free to ignore this submission. If I did get it in time, may I have a matchup, please and thank you. I hope the length is alright, if it’s too long let me know. Since it is long, if you want, you don’t have to submit the whole message if you don’t want to, you can just tag me.

Personality: I’m a mix of an INFP and ISFP, HSP (highly senstitive person), an Aquarius and an ambivert, but I lean more towards introverted side. I have depression, as well as OCD (mainly a repetition thing, where I have to do things 1-3 times), anxiety, I can be a perfectionist, and I’m used to wearing a mask of happiness all the time, and also has a human chameleon personality. I had to grow up quicker mentally when I was younger so I didn’t really get to enjoy being a child, but I truly enjoy when I’m able to have fun and laugh, and just be myself, but I do know when I have to be serious. I get more talkative and easily excitable about it if its something I’m interested in or I’m around someone I’m comfortable with. Plus, you know if I’m really comfortable around you, because I become more witty, playful, eccentric and sassy, like I’ll banter back and forth with somebody and just be more lively. Can be lazy, quirky, get tongue tied easy, trust issues & a wall built up so it’s hard to let others in (but I want to, it’s just hard to do), curious, and a daydreamer. I’m sarcastic (a lot of the times without realizing it), loyal, caring, gets bored easy I act like I’m indifferent to things (and I am indifferent to some things), but I don’t like seeing those I care about hurt and I tend to be more of an observer. Stubborn, I tend to bottle my feelings up, which can result in me having a short temper (but I notice it occurs more when I’m depressed, angry or I get really tired/easily irritated) , open minded to most things and compassionate/empathetic. Tries best to be a good listener, secret keeper, or at least offer a shoulder to lean on since I tend to worry about saying the wrong thing.I tend to trust animals more than people because I know that I can trust them and that no matter what they’ll love you unconditionally. I’m also easily embarrassed, curious, and tend to overthink/worry too much. I’m a bookworm, electronic & video game nerd. If I’m really comfortable and I feel like I can be myself, I can be random, we could watching a commercial and all of a sudden I could break out in a weird song about it, or I hear a beat & I just have to dance, things like that or I could be just fun-loving and maybe childish, just depends on my mood. Views on relationships/love are: they are fine, I’m kind of indifferent. I would like to be in a relationship, but sometimes it’s hard to put myself out there,especially when you hear news of divorce rates and hearing about people cheating on each other. When hearing that, it’s worrisome because I worry about that happening to me. I want us to be able to accept each other for who we are/be honest w/ one another. if they are overprotective, and/or clingy, etc, then I’ll accept them because that’s part of who they are, and if I don’t understand why they act like they do, I would try my best to understand or help them with it if they want. I would want a relationship where we can both accept and be ourselves, as well as both of us being able to be honest with each other (even if I hate what is being said/it hurts, I’ll get angry, but in the end after I calm down would appreciate honesty vs lying -which I’d still get mad after the truth of lying came out-). . I also don’t believe in love at first sight, I’d prefer to be friends first. Though I don’t admit it out loud, I like to cuddle and I actually like the feeling of being protected and having somebody to lean on (even when I tell myself otherwise at times). Habits: Apologizes even when not my fault or says “I’m fine” even if I’m not. Keeps my opinions to myself since I got yelled/reprimanded by friends of the family when I did when younger & it’s stuck with me ever since, unless I feel comfortable around the person I won’t be open to sharing my opinion (even if I want to). So, I might get jealous of other people who can express themselves freely I also feel like if I express myself, some might find me annoying or are only putting up with me to be nice (I’ve had ‘friends’ who did that) so it makes me question myself. Finding loopholes in things (whether in arguments, etc, usually a way to get out of things). When it comes to arguments after getting into them , I’ll start to feel guilty so I’ll apologize twice. The first time I apologize is because I feel guilty & it’s not completely sincere, I just say it to get rid of the guilty feeling, but then once I calm down & think it through, I’ll go back & sincerely apologize both for apologizing while not being truly sorry & for the fight we got into.

Hobbies/Likes: dancing, loyalty, relaxing, listening to music, trying to learn another language (currently a very beginner at learning French & Japanese), finding loopholes in things, drawing, yoga, (likes super soft/fluffy things), video games, cooking/baking, and reading (especially fantasy, dystopian, mystery, manga, romance & adventure). I love brain teasers, and mystery/puzzle games because they make think and trying to figure out things interests me. Watching anime, music videos, dramas (mostly japanese, korean & starting French dramas), romantic-comedy, recently started getting into learning about the brain/neuro subjects, mystery and action-adventure shows/movies Dislikes: Cheaters in relationships, abuse (human & animal), mornings, public speaking ( will go to great lengths to get it out of it –even finding ways to get sick-), being bored, betrayal, people who are rude/hurt my family/friends, needles, my laugh (I sometimes snort, so I try my best not to really laugh or at least if I laugh I try to hold back my laughter from being a full one in case I let out a snort). Fears: Abandonment, spiders, heights, being rejected for who I really am and being trapped.Dreams/Goals: I’d like to get married someday & maybe have a family (whether having children by birth, adoption, or them already having children, either way is fine with me. No matter what, they would be family, blood ties or no blood ties),but if my s/o didn’t want children, I would be alright with that too, I’d honestly be happy either way.

Appearance: Dark brown eyes, around 5'7 and a half in height,brown hair, light brown skin, medium length hair and not really sure what my body type is.

- @nightrainn2

Cracks knuckles

Your match is Yamaguchi!

When you two first met and started talking, he could tell you weren't as happy as you let on, but never brought it up. He tears up a small bit if you eventually tell him why, since that means you trust him enough. Yamaguchi’s patient, and really understands how hard it can be to let others in. He'll wait until you're comfortable.

When you do start getting more comfortable with him, becoming more touchy and playful, he notices, and it makes him feel all happy and gooey inside.

Even simple handholding gets you both so flustered, and questioning yourselves on whether you're doing it right. A solid five minutes of laughter follows after you realise how much you're both overthinking things.

He knows the struggle of mental illness; he's got anxiety himself, so he never judges you for your coping mechanisms or habits.

He's always happy to listen to you talk about things you like, and gets excited along with you.

You stuttering and stumbling over your words a lot makes him feel better when it comes to his own speech habits, since he tends to stutter a lot when he’s nervous,

He's fine if you prefer staying quiet and listening to him at times, he’s used to that with Tsukki. Just be ready to get faced with a big infodump.

Speaking of Tsukki, every so often you’ll catch him staring at you two, just watching. Yamaguchi bashfully tells you it’s just Tsukishima being a lil protective over him.

Despite his own anxiety about saying the wrong things, he's always lifting you up and assuring you that you won't mess up.

Yamaguchi's learned to give you some space when you bottle your feelings up. Not to be avoidant or anything, he knows that sometimes you gotta deal with stuff yourself.

Yamaguchi always tries really hard to make the time you spend together special, and he makes the cutest pouty face if even one small thing is off.

He loves everything about you, even the stuff you don't like about yourself (especially your laugh). And he's always encouraging you to speak your mind.

Any form of physical affection makes him blush and hide his face. He does like it, it just makes him feel embarrassed. It takes a bit before he’s comfortable enough to reciprocate, and when he does, he turns into a cuddle monster.

He finds it hard to say, but Yamaguchi really loves dancing with you. He's got two left feet, but all that means is you can teach him how to dance properly and have a blast doing it.

[melien]

Replies... all the way from a month ago. I know I haven’t been active lately, for some reason I’ve got back into drawing and some other stuff that prevented me from playing sims (those who know please don’t expose me), but I’ll try to post and catch up as often as I can. Also I’m ill and certainly not anticipating going back to university because catching up with studies is going to kick my ass. Thankfully, after 3829138 years, I have finally stopped freaking out over my amount of saves and just decided to play what I want and how I want, without self-pressure that didn’t do me good. And thank you guys for accepting whatever I post, it really means the world to me! I never thought the Satellites would receive such a warm welcome.

P.S. forgot to add, sorry if I’m ignoring any tags! I honestly have lost count with what I did and what I didn’t do but I appreciate every single tag a lot.

blurrypxls said: I’m genuinely sobbing

Past Megan don’t cry

simsandthensome said: I love the eyes! Those contacts are amazing *o *

Thank you! I absolutely love them *-*

simlovinggirl said: They’re adorable even as aliens :D ♥

I know right! There’s just something about them :3

simlovinggirl said: *swoon* i’m so glad I keep getting to see pictures of him even if he is gone in the actual legacy :D

Of course, legacy is not the end! I dont think I’ll ever forget Tobias :3

simlovinggirl said: Beauty ♥

simlovinggirl said: She’s so gorgeous ♥ ♥

Thanks! I’m now basing all my new sims off Blizzard lol

simlovinggirl said: Yes you can do a triple heir *-* she’s adorable :D

Haha no matter what she’ll definitely stay in the house for a while together with her spouse!

simlovinggirl said: How do you make such adorable sims all the time!! ♥

Awwww man :3

simlovinggirl said: This makes me love Nate even more than i already did :D

I hope I’ll get to show his side of events one day!

simlovinggirl said: I mean i know you’ve got like 1000 things going on, but i love them :D I’d love to see something with them ♥

Again, thank you :3 Maybe someday when I’m in a mood for berries! (yeah, sometimes I am in a mood for berries)

simlovinggirl said: Welcome back :) As always, just post whatever inspires you and if nothing does than just relax and enjoy some more you time :) ♥ ♥

You’re always super sweet and yesss I’m now following this principle!

simlovinggirl said: I hope your feeling better after your break :D Glad to see you back! I missed you and your cute sims on my dash ♥

*showering you with hearts*

romeo-and-simulet said: yassssss

YASSSS

simnights said: Forever one of my fave custom worlds

create-a-sim said: sweet jesus, I need it so much

I’m happy to get more people learn about TS3 Strangetown! It’s amazing

simlovinggirl said: AHHH!!!! Awww she looks so cute in your game ♥ ♥ She has the special Melien touch :D Love it, can’t wait to read more :D ♥ ♥

“Special Melien touch” awwwwwww I’m blushing

create-a-sim said: so bright! :D

plumboblures said: love the yellow-magenta combo, and hey, it’s annoying dog :D

simmreaper said: not gonna lie, first thing I noticed in this picture was the wallpaper xD.

davidmont said: Awwww

davidmont said: The wall paper is so beautiful too I love the colors

I’m happy that you like my nonexistent decorating skills guys! The annoying dog wallpaper was made by the amazing Stephaniesim along with the other nerdy patterns and I screeched when I first saw it *-*

aliengrove said: But a cute grump

A very cute grump :3

romeo-and-simulet said: a vampire in the desert would be a bit ironic wouldn’t it

Hmmm you’re actually right... here’s another reason why it would be problematic

romeo-and-simulet said: I’m rhea

thinking about the universe

usagisims said: she’s so cute! so much swag lol

Indeed! I love her for that *-*

romeo-and-simulet said: GURL THAT POSE MAKES ME CRY

WHEN I FOUND THIS PICTURE IN MY FOLDER I CURSED THE PAST MYSELF FOR NEVER POSTING IT (I think I never did)

davidmont said: 😍😍😍😍

Waffle faces are the best

simlovinggirl said: lmao, Rhea does not look happy about that xD Poor Sierra ♥

romeo-and-simulet said: I love that first one! so mischievous

The fine example of funny sims expressions :D

hcz0307 said: cute!

Thanks ♥

romeo-and-simulet said: EMBRACE ME GOAT MOTHER

plumboblures said: TORIEL IS BEAUTIFUL OH MY <3

THANK YOU I WAS ESPECIALLY NERVOUS ABOUT HER

stephaniesim said: I take it all of these captions are going to be from the musical :3

Well, almost all of them :3

lavisims said: OMG I love her so much!!

Thaaaaaanks! I really tried to create a nice version of her so I won’t end up with spear of justice shoved up my ass

berrysweetboutique said: Loving this series

Thank you Berry ;___; it made me happy

romeo-and-simulet said: otp

OTP x100000000000

romeo-and-simulet said: the souls let me die

It was a final touch before queuing and boy I’m extremely happy with it

romeo-and-simulet said: THE TOOTH GAP

That’s my headcanon :3

simmeronnie said: Omg the gif is so adorable ;-; and thank you too!

I almost always use puppy gifs at these asks, they’re the best :D

romeo-and-simulet said: the refin'

Ba-dum-tss

romeo-and-simulet said: hand model

simlovinggirl said: So graceful :)

And the “best hands” award goes to Rhea

simmeronnie said: Your sims are so cute it should be illegal :D

cookiemonsterrsims said: AAAAAAAAAAA SO. CUTE

Awwww guys ;____; I guess these custom teeth I downloaded recently contributed to the cuteness of my recent sims

romeo-and-simulet said: THE GREAT ATTICUS AND ASTORIA CUTIE

I SEE WHAT YOU DID HERE

simmeronnie said: I’m gonna repeat myself a little but SHE’S SO CUTE

simlovinggirl said: She’s so gorgeous I love her :D :D

create-a-sim said: she’s SO ADORABLE mdgmdjgdjwjgw I can’t

I’m so so so happy that you love her, I hope her story won’t disappoint too :3

simlovinggirl said: Awww she’s so cute preggy!

She is *-*

romeo-and-simulet said: its a save point

DEFINITELY

romeo-and-simulet said: this is goals

Squad goals & picture goals

katatty-main said: i loved jena during this arc! 💙💙

I always think that I could have done it better but I’m happy that you did *-*

romeo-and-simulet said:AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

(that’s what nabias does to people) ♥

romeo-and-simulet said: i could say some slightly indecent things about cakes but i won’t because this is a feelsy scene that doesn’t need my filth all over it

This reminds me how I liked the Birthday Cake song and played it on my birthday until I learned what do the lyrics mean

[drop-and-give-me-zen]

Yess~ my first request already?! Im blessed to have beautiful Mcs already interested~

Rating: Safe for work though 15+ recommended

Reason: Alcohol, vomit, envy

Keywords: Romance, Date, Bar, SFW           

You and Zen had been talking on the phone a lot, He hadn’t had a lot of time to spend with you lately due to work, and being boyfriend and girlfriend, that put a little bit of a damper on your mood. You wanted to just do something to be with him, anything at this point so you begged the man to just hang out at the bar tonight, nothing big and fancy just a little bit of you time for the both of you. When you asked you could hear the smile in his voice as he answered you, “Of course Love~ I have had something on my mind that I wanted to talk to you about anyways.... Ill meet you there at around seven pm....alright?” and with that you were satisfied, you were going to see him after what had seemed like forever...but what was it he wanted to talk to you about. You attempted to shrug it off, heart racing and a smile on your face you pick out your favorite outfit down to your cutest bra and panties, and got all ready hours ahead even. It was going to be your special night and you wanted it to happen right away. Not to mention the thought of what he had wanted to talk to you about had almost drove you crazy.          As you waited at the bar for a few minutes, dressed all cute, catching the eyes of a few on lookers almost drooling at how amazing you looked, even more so with the giant smile on your face as you thought about your man, and being able to be with him even just if for a little bit. The sound of footsteps suddenly snapped you out of your daydreams and back to reality, looking to see Zen looking at you with a huge smile and a light blush, just as happy to see you, “Hey babe.....I hope I didnt keep you waiting~” he said as he leaned in to kiss you on your cheek with a light pink hue across his face. You assured him it hadn't been long, Home wasn't even a block away so you took your time to get here. The smile forming on his face even more as he wrapped his arm around you to hold you close as he started to walk you in, “Alright~ Lets get something to drink, and maybe a snack for you here~ My treat~” he said with a wink as he walked you into the rather classy bar, filled with mostly couples, a few stragglers, and some people even singing karaoke. It was a very nice place, not like any bar you had seen before really. As he walked you in eyes of a few envious girls had caught your attention, however the grip he had on you had put you at ease for the moment being.        Sitting down Zen had ordered a beer for himself and an alcoholic drink that you had mentioned liking before, when he ordered it for you you couldn’t help but feel a bit shocked that he had remembered such a small detail about you. “I’m so sorry about everything....” he said as he turned to face you with a smile, “I’ve been so busy lately with work and modeling for Jumin’s new wine ads....I haven't had time to be with you....but I promise that will change soon alright princess..?” he said as he touched your face lightly, his soft hands petting your cheek. Closing your eyes you could feel the warmth on them, drawing you into it more, your senses going mad with the smell of him, the feeling of his hands, and the sound of his voice, that is until the sound of another envious woman seemed to snap you out of it again. ‘uggh....he could do so much better.....like me..’ a snotty voice said behind you, though when you looked at Zen he didn't seem to notice it at all. You were done, you needed that alcohol, and when it came you pounded it down almost instantly. Zen’s eyes widened as he watched you, a bit surprised at how quick you drank it, ordering another for you. “Wow....Honey...” he said with a small laugh, “Try not to drink it too fast....they often sneak up on ya and hit you all at once....” he said as he looked to you, you assured him again that you were fine, and there was nothing to worry about.         As the night went on you both sang Karaoke, both talked about your week and what had gone on, drinking happily and laughing the night away, those voices still getting to you, and just remembering the woman and what she had said had made you want to drink more, that is until Zen had cut you off at what seemed to be your limit. “Jagiya....Are you alright?” he mentioned, rather worried about your current state, you couldn't even walk straight. He was right it had all snuck up on you, and you felt horrid. “Come on.... let me take you home..” he said as he talked to the bartender, paid the tab, and walked back to where you were sitting. “MC....You should have been a bit more careful....but then again...I’m just as to blame for this..” he said in a worried tone. You tried to justify yourself telling him you were fine, and you didn't want to go home, though as you talked your words slurred and you couldn't even keep yourself from crying, you wanted to stay out with him all night, you didn't want to end up like this. As the tears ran down your face Zen couldn't help but feel to blame, quickly scooping you up bridal style and carrying you out the door. Your heart sank as the depressing feelings filled your head, you couldnt hold back, you told him your worries, and about the woman in the bar. His face got red with anger as he walked carrying you to your place, “W-what? Why didnt you tell me earlier?” he said a bit angered that he just had found out, “If you would have told me I would have told them off...” he said walking a bit faster out of anger, “Honestly people these days can be so....Uggh!!” he let out getting a bit more angered though looking down at you he couldnt help but blush a bit his eyebrows a bit sad, “Dont you ever think that you are not good enough....you are my Princess....and someday I want to make you my Queen...Dont let what others say get to you....they dont know you...You are the most beautiful woman in the world to me and nothing will change that..” he said as he walked up to your door with a light blush, grabbing your keys and unlocking it as he smiled and paused kissing your lips before opening the door to your house, and walking in with you still in his arms.                 As he placed you down in a chair you couldn't help but watch him as he scurried around your small apartment. Everything seemed to be moving around and you were hit with the sudden feeling of nausea, Zen turned to look at you with a glass of water in his hands, his face however very pale, “H-hon...are you alright?” he asked as he put the glass down and went over to you, your hand over your mouth. He knew what that meant and instantly swooped you up and carried you to the restroom where you had instantly leaned into the toilet and let it out. Zen quickly pulled his own hair out of the ponytail and put the rubber band in your hair, holding your hair back as you let it out. Sitting with you and petting your back softly as you let it all out, he kissed your shoulder blade and pet you as you started to slow down, feeling a bit better by the second. “You alright now MC...?” he asked as he let a soft sigh out flushing the toilet for you and standing up as you nodded still unable to talk. As you sat on the floor he had gotten up and grabbed the glass of water from the other room, your toothbrush and tooth paste from the counter of the bathroom and a wet washcloth. Sitting down on the floor next to you he started to clean your face up, his eyes filled with love and worry. As you drank your water and brushed your teeth to get the taste out he stood right next to you, not moving away more than an inch, and his hand always on you. “Im so sorry...” he said as he put his head lightly on your shoulder, “I shouldnt have let you drink so much...” he said with a worried tone. You were sobering up by this point, the shock of the vomit, and having it all out of you at this point being a big factor. You told him it wasnt his fault where he shook his head, “If you say so but I have to make it up to you...” he said as he looked at his watch, “Im staying the night, Ill keep an eye on you and make sure you are okay...” he said with the smile as he tucked your little bit of hair that didnt make it in the rubber band behind your ear.               As he walked you to your bedroom to lay down he assisted you with taking your clothing off, though flustered enough where his eyes were closed the whole time, though when you assured him you were dressed he opened his eyes, the beast inside still a bit flustered by seeing you in your PJs, his red face gulping a bit as he looked at you. “I have to get used to this....after all...I..wanted to talk to you today remember...?” he asked as you nodded crawling into your bed and laying down a bit, “I wanted to ask you to move in with me.... I want to see you every day after work....and sleep next to you...I want to come home with flowers and tell you how nice it is to see you... you are suck an inspiration to me and every time I see you I cant help but feel more alive....I want to take the next step together and live with you, so please.....will you do me the honors of moving in with me...” he said bowing a bit deeply, his face bright red, about as red as his eyes, “You...dont have to answer tonight, and Ill remind you tomorrow.....I have keys made for you if you choose to...so please think about it...” he said blushing more as he looked up at you to see your smiling face. His face lit up as he could tell what your answer was, though he quickly cleared his throat, the blush still running across his face, “T-think about it alright love...? For now though...I want you to sleep...and rest.. Ill be here in the morning alright...I already called in for the day off tomorrow....Ill make sure you are comfy and healthy after... tonights endeavors...” he said with a low chuckle as he turned your light off and walked over to your bed, laying next to you, holding you to his chest. You felt so relaxed and so calm, falling asleep you could hear his heart beat, and feel his warmth again, “I love you my darling queen.....I will always love you.....and I will always be here for you...for now on...” 

[thunderoad]

HMMM 6. 12. 48 for to the end of the night. 24. 50 - would you just talk to me a little about why you like found family as a theme.

BLESS U KATE ILY

6. how did writing change you?

oh shit, this is like a deep question right out of the gate?? i’m not sure, exactly. it’s definitely given me some of the best friends i’ve ever had. i think maybe that’s the best thing about writing, really - realizing how you can connect to people you’ve never met, both in the fic itself and in those friendships outside of it. aw. man. i’m gonna cry lol

12. favorite place to write

my bed! anytime i can wake up abt 7am, get my coffee, and open a word doc without any distractions i know it’s going to be a really productive day. i also wrote, like, the entirety of everything between my second fic and hold on at my friend’s place, often while watching tv. (quiet is only for the very end of a fic where i gotta tie up all those loose strings or let it all unravel)

48. three spoilers for (insert story title) to the end of the night

i’m not sure about spoilers, but i found my old notes doc for this one, so here’s some stuff i had planned for the fic that didn’t make the final cut. 

niall was originally gonna be taking some time off music work to enroll in uni. i was DEADSET - i have no idea why - on him doing this in toronto, or somewhere else northern and cold, but i couldn’t make that location work, which was a pretty good indication i couldn’t make that plot work, either. (at least, not from louis’s pov.)

the dedication at the beginning is to the mother’s we’ve lost. i’ve gotten some real nice comments on it, but it’s really nothing fancy - it’s exactly what it says it is, louis’s mom and mine. i didn’t even know she was ill till halfway thru the fic, but i didn’t have to make any edits to it at all, really, which probably says more about me than it should! it was really nice, though, at least on my end; that dedication at the beginning, and the run-on sentence at the end sort of act like this framing device where the whole fic is louis catching his mum up on everything she’s missed since she passed away. unlike louis, i like middles; i don’t think they ever really end. 

this is just a couple of deleted scenes that kind of capture a mood, but don’t really move the plot in any way: louis accuses niall of lying to him, and “Like you never lied to me,” Niall says, all the more hurtful because he’s not wrong. But that’s not the kind of relationship Louis wants to have with Niall. It hits him out of nowhere, how fucking lonely he’ll be if Niall gets up and walks out right now, how dependent he’s become on Niall’s warm, assuring presence. So of course Louis does his best to get rid of him right away. and, “Fuck,” Louis says, the feeling trapped inside his chest like a lead weight, like a jar of fireflies, like a helium balloon. He closes his eyes, and the image of Niall, sleepy and lax in his bed, the soft sheets slipping over his bare skin, springs forth. “I miss you.” “It’s okay,” Niall says, his voice gravelly with sleep. He means, it’s okay for you to feel like this about me. i never want to articulate feelings explicitly if i can help it for some reason, but i remember thinking of these scenes and going ohh, it’s going to be one of those fics. i really wanted to write a canon compliant fic that delved into louis’s character and looked at the way he coped with losing eleanor and zayn and having freddie all in one fell swoop, but time had just progressed too much. i remember reading that portraying louis as the commitment-phobic one in a relationship just doesn’t make sense, cuz he’s constantly in these big, beautiful romances, but i wanted to write a louis who was older and bitter and really deeply hurt, and i think that’s what these scenes were trying to get at. it’s like darkest timeline!louis. that’s where this monologue comes from that was later fiddled with a bit and mostly put in the final version of the fic: “The truth is,” says Louis, “the truth is, I don’t know that maybe he is better off without me. He can have a normal dad and a normal life and – and that might be better for him, wouldn’t it? And you, I don’t – for God’s sakes, Niall, you told me you’d booked more tour dates the other day and all I could think was can you cancel them so I can keep you a little longer?” Louis shakes his head. “It’s fucked up, and I’m fucked up, and I love you so fucking much. You deserve better.” He puts his hand over his heart like he’s been hurt. Sort of feels like it, to be honest. Now that he’s started talking it’s like he’s an oil station way out in the ocean and all this blackness is just pouring up and out into open water. “My dad, Eleanor, Danielle – even Harry,” says Louis. He draws up short. “Zayn,” he says, barely above a whisper. “Liam. I mean, there’s a fucking pattern there, isn’t there? It’s me, there’s something wrong with me that everyone stops loving me eventually.” “Louis,” Niall says, his voice hushed. “Don’t deny it,” Louis says. “You were there – you saw it happen. I just…can’t love them enough. And I just,” Louis runs out of steam. “I don’t want you to stop loving me.” 

24. favorite scene you’ve ever written

i answered this before, but i really like this scene, too, from to the end of the night: 

They get as far as the back garden – straight through the living room and kitchen – before they lose the plot. Louis kicks one of Freddie’s little play footie balls into the pool and watches it bob along the surface like a fishing lure. He’s aware of Niall watching him from the corner of his eye, same as he’s looking at Niall every time he pretends to look away.

Looking out over Louis’s infinity pool, Niall says, “California,” in his best Terminator accent.

“I hardly ever come out here anymore,” Louis says. He’d had all these plans when he bought the house of playing footie with the lad and floating around on pool loungers and maybe even the occasional water balloon fight, and then he’d just kept saying “tomorrow” till tomorrow’s today, and it’s just him and Niall, silhouetted by the light spilling out of the kitchen windows.

it’s not really a crucial moment or anything, but i felt like it really captured that feeling of life passing you by; that bitterness of knowing you used to have something great, and having lost it, and the way you can want something or someone so bad you don’t even know how to ask for it. (at least, that’s what i hope it says.) 

50. found family - my FAVORITE theme

i have a healthy respect for fate - ‘there is a tide in the affairs of men,’ and all - but a lOT more regard for the bit that contradicts, ‘i have taken these tides of men into my hands and wrote my will across the sky in stars.’ there’s definitely a kind of crossover for me between family and genetics and even learned behaviors and fate, and on the other hand, found family and the parts of ourselves that we choose. 

my dad’s watchwords are ‘but they’re blood,’ as if that settles everything. which it SO doesn’t, at least not to me! a lot of reason for the way i am is because i want to be as unlike my family as possible, and that’s all about choice, really. caving to blood and genetics and stuff i can’t do anything about is like accepting defeat. (there’s a lot of this stuff in oaft, looking back.) but lotr is such a good example of the way you can sort of tie these conflicting values of fate vs. choice together, though, like all those times sam and frodo reflect on how they’d never have accepted the ring quest if they knew what it entailed, and will people tell their stories someday? you don’t often get to know the full extent of what you’ve signed up for, but you do get to choose. so that’s what found family is to me, really - a way of choosing your own fate, accepting the quest you think you can abide. 

i rely a lot on connections between people in my fics, whether it be one acting as another’s human credentials and making them seem lovable at their worst moments, or of tethering them to other people, memories, even parts of the world. i love the way those connections that are made, and not born, can be the most important thing. two of my favorite books, mrs. dalloway and howards end, are built around this idea of “Only connect . . .” where connecting  to people and then connecting them to each other is, like, what life is all about. i like to imagine it looks a bit like portolan charts from back in the day, where maps were made based on the connections between places. some were near and some far, but all tied into the same network, and all tied to each other, albeit with some degree of separation. whenever my directions start getting mixed up, it’s soothing to think of these forged connections making sense of everything. 

[thing-you-do-with-that-thing]

First Steps

Characters: Reader (Y/N), Chris Evans   

Pairing: Chris x Reader

Warnings: Death of a parent (mentioned) Death of Grandparents (mentioned), Implied smut, mostly it is just lots and lots of fluff.  

Word Count: 2000ish

A/N: This is my second time writing for Chris and I am sure it won’t be the last. This is my entry for @paigeinastory’s Country Song Fic/Sentence Prompt Challenge. I had two prompts. The first was the song Dan + Shay - From the Ground Up and the other was the sentence: “Would you like children someday?”

Thanks a billion to @emilyevanston for being a sweetheart and betaing this for me.

DISCLAIMER: I honestly have no idea if Chris grandparents are still alive but for the sake of the story they passed. If they are alive and well I meant no disrespect nor do I have any ill will towards them.

***My fics are not to be saved nor posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

A huge smile slide across your face as you pulled up in front of the small Boston house. Well it wasn’t exactly small, but it certainly wasn’t huge either. You loved it either way. You loved that it was a little outside the city, but this close to your husband’s family. You loved it was cosy and warm, filled with love and hopes for the future. More than anything you loved it’s history.

You hadn’t know it when Chris had first taken you here. You hadn’t even known his plans when he did.

“Chris, what it this place?” You asked with a confused frown gracing your features. “I thought we were staying at your mom’s place?”

“We are. I just want to show you something,” Chris smiled at you before getting out of the car. He ran around the vehicle to hold the door open for you. He always did that and still it never failed to make you smile. He was the only guy you had ever known that did that. Actually he did a lot of things for you, that no other guy had ever done for you. Like holding open doors, pulling out chairs, standing when you left the room. He was a gentleman. He was a huge goofball, but he never made you doubt how important you were to him. No matter if he showed you with his actions, small surprises he left for you in the morning when he went to the gym, with his words or with his touch. Chris made you feel loved and special. Hell he made you feel like the one woman in a crowded room filled with gorgeous actresses. He only ever wanted you and the feeling was mutual.

“This was my grandparents house.” Chris explained to you as he walked you through the door, his fingers laced through yours. “They lived here for 65 years. This house was part of my childhood and it was always filled with so much love. I couldn’t bare to see it passed on to someone else so when Grandma passed I bought it. It needs some work but I would love to live here one day.”

Chris looked at you as your eyes wandered the house. It still felt warm and loving even though it was easy to tell no one had lived there for years. It had a spark. Something intangible, but you instantly loved the place. It was easy for you to see why Chris hadn’t been able to let go of it.  

“I love it Chris,” you smiled at him and it was if he drew a sigh of relief.

“I hoped you would. I know these past few months haven’t been easy on you. Losing your dad…” Chris words trailed out when he saw you flinch at the mention. “I am sorry. I didn’t mean too…” Chris’ gaze fell to the floor between the two of you.

“No it’s okay. Chris really,” you reached up cupping his face in your hands, urging him to look at you. “I don’t know what I would have done without you. You have been so amazing. Before and after he got sick. He really liked you. Not as much as me of course,” You teased trying to lighten the mood and Chris chuckled slightly.

“Y/N before he went… I asked him something and he agreed,” Chris looked at you all of a sudden seeming nervous and a confused frown showed on your face.

“Come, I wanna show you something,” Chris took your hand and you let him lead you into the garden and towards a big oak. You were no less puzzled by his actions but you trusted him. You knew he would explain himself in his own time.

“See that date?” Chris pointed to something carved into the wood and you smiled and nodded when you saw the numbers.

05.06.47

“That was the day my Grandpa proposed to my Grandma. He did so right here. The same day he bought the house for them,” Chris took a deep breath before he kneeled down infront of you and your hands instantly flew up to cover your mouth.

“I want this to be our home. If you say yes, I promise you I will be by your side through the good and the bad. I promise you I will be the man you dad hoped I would be when he agreed for me to ask you to marry me one day. I don’t wanna spend another day without you by my side. If you say yes I will be your shelter and I will love you from now and until forever. Y/N do me the honor of becoming my wife?” Chris’ eyes never left yours as he spoke. He held up a small box with a sparkling ring, but you didn’t see it. All you saw was the man in front of you. The gorgeous blue eyed man you loved more than anything. The man that had just declared his love for you and who had asked you to be his forever.

You nodded as you felt your eyes starting to tear up and Chris face light up with a huge smile.

“Yes?”

“Yes,” you laughed with happy tears streaming down your face, “yes I’ll marry you, you dork.”

Chris quickly slid the ring onto your finger before rising to his feet and wrapping you in his arms, meeting your lips in a warm tender kiss. A kiss that was filled with promises of love and a future together. Promises of a love that would never die.

You hurried inside the house knowing you didn’t have much time. Chris plane had been delayed, but he would still be here soon. Hopefully you would be able to get your surprise for him ready in time. You knew he felt bad about not being with you today, so you wanted to do everything you could to cheer him up.

As you began painting the room, you remembered the first night you had spend with him in this house. It had been about a month before your wedding, when you were still fixing the house up. There hadn’t even been a bed in the house at the time, but that hadn’t mattered. Chris had spread out a pile of blankets and pillows in front of the fireplace after you had finished working for the day.

You had ate pizza and drank beer, laughing and talking. Chris had pulled you closely against him, kissing you. A kiss that had slowly grown more heated until his hands began wandering. Clothes had been discarded on the floor quickly and Chris had made love to you for the first time in the place that was soon to be your home.

When you had lain on the floor that night, wrapped in blankets and his arms, your mind had begun to wander. You had thought about your future and about Chris. You had thought about how good he was with his niece and nephew. You had remembered how he had played with the kids and made them forget their bad health if only for a little while, when you had visited Christopher’s Haven a few days ago. You had remembered his glee and childish ways that day brought a smile to his face.

You gently caressed his bicep with the tips of your fingers, drawing his attention as you thought about all the things you wanted with him.

Chris gave you a small squeeze, looking down at you. “What are you thinking about, beautiful?”

“You,” you answered honestly, tilting your head up, resting your chin against his chest. You smiled when your eyes met.

He tilted his head back resting against the pillow, closing his eyes but the smile never left his face.

“Chris?”

“Hmmm” Chris hummed in acknowledgement he was listening and you couldn’t help but grin at how relaxed he was. So unlike how nervous he had been after your first time together. A first time that had been less than conventional and a night you quite frankly didn’t remember too much off thanks to the alcohol that had been in your blood. Chris had been your friend for some time before that night and he was scared shitless, his drunken confession of love which had led to a night you wish you could remember more clearly, was going to make him lose you entirely. The opposite had been the case, but it had taken you the better part of the morning to convince him of that.

Right now however, Chris wasn’t the nervous one. You were, but you had to ask him. You already thought you knew the answer, but before you married him, you needed to know for sure.

“Do you think that maybe you would you like children someday?” you stuttered, making Chris open his eyes and tilt his head so he could look at you again.

“Baby I want everything with you. This house. Marriage. As many kids as you are willing to give me. A dog or three,” Chris grinned at you, making you laugh, before you settled down against him again.

“How about we start with one of each and take it from there,” you giggled as you let his steady heartbeat and the feeling of his laughter rumbling through his body calm you.

“Deal,” Chris’ arms wrapped around you a little tighter, before you felt sleep starting to overtake you.

You had barely made the last stroke of the brush before your husband’s voice sounded through the house from downstairs.

“Baby I am home. Where are you?”

You smiled thinking about your options for a second before you called out to him. “Upstairs!”

You heard his steps on the stairs, before they disappeared into your bedroom next door. “Where?” He called out again, making you giggle and shake your head at him.

“In here you dork,” you laughed poking your head out into the hallway and Chris instantly showed in the door next to you.

“Hey,” Chris beamed, reaching out to you, clearly eager to kiss you hello. He had been on set for a couple of weeks and you hadn’t seen each other for as long. You quickly stepped away from him and back into the room with a mischievous smile on your face. Chris raised an eyebrow at you, clearly not too happy with your shenanigans as he followed you.

“Y/N/N would you stand still so I can kiss my wife hal…” Chris stopped mid sentence as he saw the pink colored walls of the room. You smiled as you saw the wheels turning in his head before his eyes began tearing up meeting yours.

“We’re having a girl?” Chris’ voice was thick and almost cracking up as he spoke.

“A healthy baby girl,” you pulled the ultrasound picture from your back pocket, handing it to him. Smiling when you saw the tear fall from his eyes as he started at it.

“I love you Y/N,” Chris spoke softly as his eyes met yours again and this time you let him pull you into his arms and kiss you deeply. You laughed as he fell to his knees in front of you once more, but this time pressing his lips to your growing bump. “I love you both so much.”

“We love you too Chris.” You ran your fingers through his hair, making him look up at you and as you looked into his calm, loving, blue eyes, you knew that he would be as amazing a dad to your little girl as he had been a husband to you for the past year and a half. Together you would show her love and strength. Chris was yours for worse and better. There was nothing you couldn’t do with him by your side. Motherhood included.

You knew that one day you would wake up beside him, with hundreds of pictures on your walls showing a life of love with children and grandchildren. Together you would build a family and Chris would be there with you through whatever the world decided to throw at you. Because you knew this, you knew you would make it through anything and so would your little girl.  

Chris Tag Team

@blacktithe7 @percywinchester27 @quiddy-writes @supernaturalyobessed @starswirlblitz @sebbytrash @skathan-omaha @feelmyroarrrr @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki @curliesallovertheplace @docharleythegeekqueen @faith-in-dean @ellen-reincarnated1967 @adriellej @moonstar86 @knittingknerdy @nikolanna @brooke-supernatural16 @melonberri @thatonehaspanicchick @stilinski15 @phoenixia67 @smoothdogsgirl @deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester @thecynicalnerd @sleepywinchester @tanithlowisabamf @purgatoan @mizzzpink @just-a-touch-of-crowley @itsummertime22  @deanwinchesterisamazing @caitsymichelle13 @nataly-world @dontbeamenacetotheforce @ivvitm1109 @iamflanneltrash @haleyhay96 @thewhisperingfox @edward_lover18 @you-know-whodoesthat-crazypeople @emilyevanston

[mikawa-province]

I am loving your writing so far! Whenever I see that you've added a new post, I get giddy with excitement and stop whatever I was doing just to read your wonderful work ^ω^ Okay, for the writing prompt (if that is still open/available) can I request number 30 (which is sharing a bath/swim)? It's alright if you can't, and you're probably very busy ^_^ Thank you very much and I look forward to reading more of your works! ^O^

Hey Anon!

My apologies for the very late response.

Here is the prompt fic you have requested for, and I hope you enjoy it.

30. Sharing A Bath/Swim (from here)

For mobile users: click here

“For the last time, Ieyasu-sama, I am not getting out.”

Sometimes, he wondered why he had to sufferand deal with stubborn retainers who did not know their place. Specificallythis stubborn wench who did not know her place and kept challenging him whenevershe pleased.

“You dare make a Lord get out of thebaths just to accommodate you?” He flashed a glare at her that wouldintimidate most of his enemies on the battlefield.

Unfortunately for him, the kitchen wenchwas immune to any glaring that he did. Grown men had cowered before him uponseeing the glare, save for Honda Tadakatsu, that pervert, but this commoner hadthe gall to give him a glare that matched his own. Admittedly, he would havebeen half-impressed if it wasn’t for the fact that they were in a rather… unusual situation.

Who would have thought he would get into anargument with the wench with both of them as naked as the day they were born,both of them soaking in the open-air baths of the inn they were staying?

“A proper Lord waits for his turnbefore entering the baths.” She frowned at him. “Or even checking ifthere’s already someone in it and that ‘someone’ happens to be a lady—”

He rolled his eyes. “Need I remind youthat you were the one who walked in on me?”

When she had no retort, he continued, “Besides,you’re no lady. Your body can hardly be called 'feminine’ when you’ve fooledthe clan into thinking that you were a man.” He said in a rather scathingmanner, referring to her underdeveloped body, despite being a grown woman.

… Not that he had a proper look at hernaked form; he was only going with what Sakakibara had stated, and he clearlyhad no idea what she looked like in her most natural form, despite the fact shewas sitting across from him. The water and her knees, which were propped up infront of her, hid her body from his sight.

“Says the man who knew about it allalong and played a prank on his page in the hopes of traumatizing him intoseeing me half-naked!” She snapped back.

That struck a nerve in him, remembering thatback then, he had found it amusing to traumatize his usually poker-faced page.It was only in this instance when he realized that Toramatsu had seen more ofthe kitchen wench than he did… even if him and said kitchen wench werecurrently sharing an open-air bath together.

It angered him more than he thought itwould.

“Yes, but as Sakakibara said, yoursupposed 'feminine form’ will drive no man to lust.” He replied in arather bored tone, trying to keep his cool as the thought of his retainerseeing the kitchen wench half-naked invoked an anger that surprised even him.

He knew that someday, his actions would comeback to haunt him, but not this way.

“… Yeah, that’s not what Inuchiyosaid when he walked in on me one time.”

Her comment was delivered so casually thatit took several seconds for it to register in his mind. The shock had turnedinto wonderment as to how the Fool’s Dog had managed to seen her naked, thoughhe cursed himself mentally for forgetting the fact that she and that brute werechildhood friends. It was not impossible for a scenario to play out thatinvolved them seeing one another naked, but the aftermath of it had made himfeel ill all of a sudden. Wonderment had turned into fury in an instant, and ithad been a struggle for him to even speak out the words that he thought wasbest to cover up the anger that was making him too emotional for his own good.

“So you let a dog see you naked? Bigdeal.” The words came out harsher than he had intended it to be, but hewas past caring. Underwater, he was clenching his fists tightly by his side,barely able to contain the anger within him.

Once the words escaped his lips, it hadbeen inevitable for his mind to play out rather passionate scenarios thatinvolved the stupid dog and the stupid wench, angering him further.

There was no way it would be possible forher and that mutt to end up together, as he absolutely refused to believe thatthere was something more that went on between them, and yet, she—

“So you say, milord… so yousay.” She muttered quietly under her breath, as if she had already conceded.“If that is the case, then I feel like I should be relieved and be at easethat despite being a woman, my lord does not lust over me.”

Before he could retort and call her naïvefor being so trusting towards men, she added, “Maybe the man whom I candrive to lust is somewhere out there. Who knows, he may be living outsideTotomi, and I just need to venture out and look for him.”

“Do what you want.” As much as he wanted tonot make it seem like he was running away in the middle of their argument, hismood was turning for the worst, and he needed to cool his head.

It may have been because he was toodistracted by the anger he was feeling, but he had snapped out of his stuporwhen he heard a scream escape her lips. Irritated that she was making noise atan ungodly hour and would likely draw attention, he turned his head to glare ather, who, he noticed, was looking anywhere but him, her face a bright red.

He was so consumed by his anger towards thewench that he had forgotten that they were soaking in the hot spring, that theywere both naked, and that—

Immediately, he sat back down again,feeling his face burn from embarrassment.

She had seen him naked.

She, of all the women, had seen him naked, and for some odd reason, hefelt so embarrassed over it.

He should have gloated over herembarrassment and mock for her blushing like a woman who had never seen herfair share of men.

But here he was, wanting to drown and passout over the stunt he just did, albeit accidentally.

“You can stop looking like you’ve seensomething very horrible, you know.”

The wench, her face still bright red,looked up and gave him a look of surprise, clearly startled at what he had justsaid. Truthfully, as much as he did want to drown himself and pass out from theembarrassment, he decided to say something else to break her out of her stupor.

Just before she could answer him, however,a voice interrupted them.

“Ieyasu-sama! You there!?” came thecheerful voice of Honda Tadakatsu.

Ieyasu never knew he had it in him to moveacross the open-air baths on all fours to get to where the wench was and shieldher with his own body. With his back turned to her, he slowly pressed againsther body, grateful that the rock that was behind her would partially hide her. Thankfully,the wench had understood what he intended to do, as she ceased all of hermovements.

“Huh. I thought Sanae was in the bathstoo.” Tadakatsu looked very confused when he stood by the baths, towel on hiswaist. “She’s not with you, Ieyasu-sama?”

“Why the hell would that wench be here?” hehoped he sounded believable, despite the fact that he was getting nervous overthe thought of her getting caught. As an added precaution, he pressed his backagainst her just to make sure Tadakatsu wouldn’t see a glimpse of her.

“Thought I heard her earlier. Was on my wayin when I heard a woman scream.” His retainer scratched his head in confusion.

“Are you implying that I sound like awoman?” in a desperate attempt to get the man sidetracked, he glared at the retainer,who had actually blushed.

“Never, Ieyasu-sama, but your glare…! Mmm!”thankfully, the masochistic side of his retainer came out in full force, andhad gotten distracted from the topic altogether.

“… Tadakatsu, I think we should leaveIeyasu-sama alone and come back later.” Toramatsu informed the older man,sensing his lord’s irritation.

Unfortunately, the other retainer was stilldistracted over the thoughts of his lord demeaning him further.

“Oh, if only Sanae was here and I walked inon her, I would happily be called a pervert if it was you calling me such,Ieyasu-sama!”

From his back, he felt the wench jerk inresponse to hearing the other retainer’s thoughts about her, even going as faras pressing her face against his back in embarrassment. In his case, he wasmore amused than disgusted upon hearing that one of his retainers wouldactually have such thoughts about the wench, only for the amusement to turninto anger in an instant.

Oblivious to the warlord’s growing anger,he turned to Toramatsu. “You saw her naked once, right?! What did she looklike?!”

In an instant, Toramatsu blushed, his gazedropping to the floor. “… I-it’s not nice to talk about people behind theirbacks…”

“I know Yasumasa said that she has no sexappeal, but I doubt that! Not when you’re blushing so much, Toramatsu! You saw something, didn’t you?!” the olderman was goading his page, and to both his relief and his frustration, Toramatsuchose to say nothing.

“… Maybe you two should talk about thewench when I’m not around? Honestly, hearing you both talk about her in thatmanner is making me sick.” This time around, he aimed the glare at the youngerretainer, in order not to prolong the discussion.

He wanted his privacy, and he wanted it now.

… Aside from getting the wench off hisback, literally, even if he could actually feel her breasts pressing againsthim, and that the intimate contact was making him feel really, really uncomfortable in another part ofhis body.

“Let’s just go back after Ieyasu-sama isfinished with his bath.” Toramatsu took this cue to leave, ignoring theprotests from his fellow retainer. “We can do some late-night training for themeantime.”

“You’re right. There’s nothing like a nicesoak after some training! Guess we can come back later.” With his mood still inhigh spirits, Tadakatsu made a run for the changing room, but not before bowingand bidding his lord a good night. Toramatsu did the same and followed theolder man back.

It took Ieyasu several minutes before hecould move again, highly conscious of the possibility that any of them wouldrun back in without warning while he and the wench were in the open-air baths,and when he did turn move away from her to see how she was doing, his heartnearly stopped.

He had felt her slump against him earlier,but ignored it, thinking that she was doing it to hide her embarrassment atfirst, then annoy him.  His suddenmovement earlier had made her fall face first to the hot spring. Quickly, hetook her by the shoulders, held her up above the water, and tried to shake herawake. Noting that she was still unconscious and unmoving, he took her out ofthe open-air bath, laid her on her back, and checked if she was still breathingby tilting her head back and placing his face rather close to her mouth.

He could hardly feel her breathing on hischeek, and in a panic, he pressed the heel of his palm on the center of herchest, just below her breasts, and began pressing hard in an attempt to get herbreathing. Admittedly, the young lord was good with herbs, poultice, andantidotes, and while he had been trained to save people whose breathing hadstopped, he never had to use the training until this.

It was difficult to do compressions whensomeone’s body was shaking in fear, but he pushed it all aside upon realizingthat the possibility of losing the wench justbecause she drowned and he was unable to prevent it was enough to force himto push harder.

Five quick breaths through her mouth, and hecontinued to press the heel of his hands on her chest as fast as he could.

Comeon…!

As much as he wanted to scream out hisfrustration at her unresponsive state, he couldn’t. Drawing attention tothemselves was the last thing he wanted, and all he could do for now was gether to breathe.

Two quick breaths, and he continued topress against her chest until she coughed out the water from within her.Immediately, he rolled her to her side as she continuously coughed out thewater that she inhaled earlier.

With his panic subsiding as he watched herslowly regain consciousness, it dawned upon Tokugawa Ieyasu that he had draggeda female out of an open-air bath, laid her on the ground to get her to breatheagain, and had done so with both of them naked.While he believed that modesty was not needed during emergency situations, itwas still rather awkward to be naked in front of her, and no doubt, she was also thinking the same.

After checking that she was conscious, hegrabbed his towel that he had placed on the rock that loomed over her headearlier and wrapped it around his waist for modesty’s sake. Her towel was bythe other rock that was beside the one where he laid his own, and draped itover her torso, from her shoulders down to her hips.

“I-Ieyasu-sama…?” she rasped out afterrealizing who it was who had helped her.

“… The hell was that, you stupid girl?” hegrowled angrily at her.

“… I… I guess a city girl like me can’t standto soak for too long at hot springs…” she gave out a weak chuckle. “Myapologies for ruining your night.”

He surprised event himself when, afterwrapping the towel on her torso and securing it properly, he found himselflifting her up on his arms and said, “If you’re going to ruin my night, youmight as well go all out.”

Which was how he found himself severalminutes later back in his room, now clad in a dark room yukata, while the wench, also now modestly dressed in a light pinkroom yukata that hugged every curveon her body, lying next to him on the futonthat he had been laid out for them.

It had been rather awkward when they got tothe inn earlier that day; the innkeeper had mistaken him and the wench as a married couple that he had been toldthat they only prepared three rooms for their party of five, and that there wasno way of changing it because the inn, despite being luxurious compared to theothers, was small, and could only accommodate four travelers for the night.

As an apology for the mishap, the innkeeperhad agreed to make the open-air baths exclusive to them for the night, andwhile that did nothing to fix the situation, it had given him the privacy heneeded to ponder upon the sleeping arrangements later.

… Until, of course, she had walked in,oblivious to the fact that he was already soaking in the open-air bath, and hadjust basically intruded on him, literally and figuratively.

She didruin his night, but not in the way she was thinking; until now, he stillcouldn’t believe that he could have nearly lost her if he hadn’t been trainedto handle victims of drowning. While he had wanted to mock her for being sostupid and for drowning in a shallow open-air bath, he was in no mood to dosuch. He barely spoke to her when they came back to their shared room and hadwordlessly dressed himself in a yukata.It was only after she got dressed that he told her that he was keeping an eyeon her to make sure she would not get into more trouble, and that she would beturned into his heat source for the night as punishment. To his surprise, sheagreed to it, and lied down next to him. Taking this as a sign that it was timefor them to sleep, he blew out the candles and, in the cover of darkness,reached out for her and inwardly sighed upon contact.

She was warm.

She was breathing.

She was alive.

“I-Ieyasu-sama…? I… I can’t… breathe.”

He hadn’t realize that his hold on her hadbeen that strong that he had to pull away for a bit, albeit reluctantly. While hewould rather die than admit to her, and to everyone else, how he felt for her,in the dark, Ieyasu figured that he could be a bit more honest… the darknesswould partially hide his expression, and she wouldn’t see him blush as well.

“Ieyasu-sama?”

After his eyes have adjusted to thedarkness, he found her looking straight at him.

“I… I would like to say thank you forearlier. If it hadn’t been for you, I—” before she could even continue what shehad wanted to say, he interrupted her.

It was embarrassing enough that she wasthanking him for what he did.

“Say nothing about it.” He muttered underhis breath. Unlike her, he unable to look at her directly. “It only made sense,since you make my meals and all. Getting a new personal chef is something I donot want to do again.”

“Still, thank you, Ieyasu-sama.” To hissurprise, she had placed a hand over his cheek and smiled. “You have a kindheart.”

He couldn’t help but roll his eyes at her naivety,even after everything she had witnessed. “I am not kind—” just before he couldstart telling her the reasons why he was not what she thought of, she pulledhim closer, their lips pressing against one another. The contact had beenbrief, and it had actually taken him several seconds for the action to registerin his mind as a ‘kiss’.

“… What was that?” he found himself asking.

“A-a kiss, Ieyasu-sama. M-m-my way ofshowing gratitude for saving me…”

After the ‘kiss’ that she tried to pull onhim, she had gone bashful?

Unbelievable… but then again, it wouldn’tbe her if she didn’t act this way;all bold and daring, then turning shy the next..

“You call that a ‘kiss’?” he snorted. “Really?”

He placed a hand on her nape, and beforethe wench could even utter a word of protest over her lack of kissing skills,he tilted his head and kissed her. A moan from her lips had made his heart beata little faster, and while he would like nothing more than to force her mouthopen so that he could slip his tongue in and taste her, the young lord knew hehad to take it easy as not to frighten her. Instead, he ran his hand down herback, letting it rest on the curve of her backside. In response, her hand madeits way to his back and pressed herself closer to him as she tried to kiss himback.

Immediately, he pulled away from her,knowing that if they continued, it might lead to… other things; while he knew what he was getting to, she most likelydid not, and regrets were something that he was all too familiar with.

The last thing he wanted to do was make hercry.

“Ieyasu-sama…?” she looked up at him, hereyes intoxicated after their kiss, and it took everything in him not to pulldown her robes and taken her right then and there.

“… And that’s how you kiss.” He managed tosay out loud after a few seconds of being unable to come up with anything.

“I-I… s-see…” was it just him, or was hehaving a hard time hearing her response? His heart was beating so fast, hecould hear the pounding in his ears. “W-well, t-thank you for… for… teaching me…”

Before she could turn away to face him, heheld her still in his arms, effectively rendering her unable to turn her backon him. It did not escape his notice that they were so close together thattheir bodies were touching, and that a part of his body was, once again,reacting to her.

How far he had fallen; now he was lustingover the wench, something that he was sure would never happen to him.

No matter how he rationally tried to thinkit over and tell himself that the gap between them was far too wide because oftheir social standing, it did nothing to deter his heart from already makingits choice.

It was such a foolish thing that couldcloud one’s judgment, along with emotions, and yet…

And yet, the damn thing had allowed him tofeel contentment and joy in a long while.

For the meantime, he knew he should enjoyit while it lasts.

Ieyasu-sama was an enigma.

For the whole day, she pondered on how shecould make his mood a little less foul after the misunderstanding over theirroom arrangements, which had really left him angry and seething. While he ateduring dinner, he barely glanced at her and kept his gaze on the food beforehim. Before she could ask him what he wanted to eat for dessert, he haddisappeared; even Hanzou, his ninja, would not tell her where he was, citingthe lord’s desire to be alone, which worried her for the rest of the nightuntil Sakai-sama had assured her that Ieyasu-sama would be fine, and that sheshould take it easy and bathe in the open-air baths, since it was for their group’sprivate use.

It was a huge, huge mistake on her part in easily agreeing with the older man’ssuggestion.

Imagine her shock when, after she hadcleansed herself in the bathing area, she went for a dip in the open-air bathsand the very man she was looking for was soaking right in front of her.

At that point, she had wanted to scream,but knew that it would not be good to draw attention to herself; instead, shehastily dropped down to the pool, wincing as the hot water scalded her skin,and turned her back to him.

If it was possible to die fromembarrassment, she knew she would have dropped dead the moment she noticed him soakingby himself, a bored expression on his face when she sensed his eyes on herbody. Thankfully, she had a small towel to cover the front of her torso, so itwasn’t that much of a big deal…though it had been a struggle to soak, all the while trying to cover her bodyand making sure that the towel wouldn’t touch the hot spring water.

The whole time they were in the hot spring,he tried to get her to leave, but she stood her ground. Sanae had been worriedabout him, and he was trying to push her away, which did not sit well with her.She strived to stay with him for as long as possible, even if her body, unusedto the hot spring water, was telling her to leave already, before she passedout.

The young woman knew should not have beenso petty, but him insinuating that even if she got up and leave that he wouldbe unaffected, and that she did not possess a body that would drive a man tolust… it had hit a nerve, and had even made her come up with a ratheroutrageous story involving her childhood friend. While it had been true thatInuchiyo had walked in on her, it had been a very close call. Her friend sworethat he saw nothing, as he had turned around immediately to leave, but hadreminded her to be more careful next time, which was why, despite thinking thatshe was alone earlier, she still covered herself with the towel she had onhand.

Little did she know that Inuchiyo’s advicehad come in handy when that happened.

The thought of flashing at Ieyasu-sama… itmade her face burn in shame and embarrassment, though nothing compared to thesurprises that the night had in store for her.

Her first shock of the night was whenIeyasu-sama had stood up and she saw… thingsthat definitely lived up to expectations.

At that time, it had been a struggle forher not to dwell on what she had seen, which he had interpreted as a sign ofdisgust, and that she had seen something so horrible.

On the contrary, she had been in awe of herlord’s body… and maybe it must have been the heat of the moment and the waters,but she had been ready to tell him that he was beautiful when Tadakatsu-samahad made his presence known, and her lord had to hide her.

The physical contact with his hard back hadbeen too much for her to bear as he pressed up against her in an attempt tohide her; it had been embarrassing for her because she had no time to turn toher side and, instead, her breasts were pressed against him.

Her second shock of the night would behearing Tadakatsu-sama say rather crude things about her. Thankfully, Toramatsu-kun has refused to divulge what had happened before between the two of them, andIeyasu-sama had also told them to leave, even at the expense of making it soundlike talking about her in front of everyone else made him sick. While that hadmade her sad, she knew that it was a small price to pay for getting rid of theother male retainer and for stopping him from talking about her in that manner.

After that, she couldn’t remember what hadhappened, as she had passed out from staying too long in the hot spring, onlycoming to her senses when she felt something press against her chest.

Her first reaction was to cough, and outcame the water she inhaled earlier. At that instance, Ieyasu-sama had rolledher to her side, and had placed her towel over her body to maintain a sense ofmodesty.

And that had been her third shock of thenight: realizing that he had seen her naked and that kiss he gave her just now.

Who knew that such a man could be sopassionate in private?

She felt her cheeks burning as sheremembered how his mouth had coaxed her to open up, and how his hand had madeits way from her nape to her hip. In her boldness, she had pulled him closer toher while she let him kiss her lips, and felt desire envelop her as she pressedagainst him. Her want was becoming a need, but before she could lose herselfinto the madness, he had put a stop to it; she was both grateful and frustratedat what Ieyasu-sama had done, but she knew it was for the best.

They… no, she had to take it slow. Lust and desire was clouding her judgment,and she prided herself for being level-headed most of the time.

A future with her lord as someone otherthan his personal chef and his retainer… it was uncertain. Their classdifference was too wide, and she was not from a samurai family; it would befoolish of her to think that she would have a chance, a future with him.

Her prospects were grim, and yet, a simpleincident had brought them closer together, and had given her the chance to have a few stolenmoments with him.

Iguess… my lord does lust over me. Allowing herself a smile at the possibility of herlord being attracted to her, she placed an arm over his sleeping form and snuggledagainst his chest, hearing his heartbeat. The steady rhythm of his heart hadeased her nerves, and minutes later, she had fallen asleep.

Maybe sharing that bath with him hadn’tbeen a horrible mistake after all.

For this fic, I experimented on using the Japanese honorifics. I… kinda got the hang of it after replaying Ieyasu’s route, especially since it can get confusing.

One thing’s for sure: MC/heroine refers to most people with the ‘-sama’ honorific, with the exception of Toramatsu, as she uses ‘-kun’  on him.

Let me know if you prefer this kind of writing wherein I use Japanese honorifics or if I should stick to the localized honorifics.

Thank you for reading!

[lttleunicornprncess-blog]

50 things you need to know about me

I can’t be alone. It makes me think and talk to myself and that’s never a good thing.

I get extra needy when I’m down.

I will always check on my friends first before even considering to even be dramatic about my own stuff.

I can’t balance my eating. It’s either too much or nothing.

My friends mean the world to me and never would I even consider replacing any of them.

You have to be very special to me to make me want to message you first.

When I’m feeling down I will be stubborn and wait for you to message me. Somehow I feel like my friends should be able to read my mind.

My life is absolutely perfect.

When I’m stressed I feel sick and I can’t sleep.

Almost everything gives me a headache. I basically have a headache every day.

I always know what I want, I just don’t always say it.

I say “I’m tired” way more often than I should. Usually I’m just bored.

When I set a goal for myself, I will accomplish it. But only if I really want to and then there’s nothing that can stop me.

Being relatively clever is the only thing I’m actually proud of. Though lately I don’t feel very smart anymore.

I get jealous all the time. According to my mind, my friends can’t have other friends without that meaning they don’t like me anymore.

When I open up to someone I always regret it. I don’t like looking weak and pathetic.

I love attention. From the right people that is. My favourite people could send me a million messages a minute and I’d be the happiest person in the world.

Nothing makes me smile more than my best friend remembering little things about me.

Chicken is the best food in the world and my biggest weakness when I’m trying not to eat.

I love learning things, it’s amazing to know stuff. I just don’t like people telling me what to learn and how to do it.

I’m not creative at all. Everything I make or do is probably stolen from someone else

Allowing me to be an independent adult was the worst thing this world has ever done.

I only started growing up when I was about 19 years old. Before that my only worry was if my mother would notice I ate a cookie before dinner.

I can’t take too much responsibility. So maybe becoming a teacher is not such a great idea.

Kids are a complete nightmare, but I do feel like I can make a difference and help some of them in my classes.

I’m a dreamer. I believe anything can be done and that everything will be alright.

I have no idea if I’m straight or bisexual. So far I haven’t fallen in love with any girls, but there definitely are some very pretty girls. Who knows what will happen.

Say what you want but my best friend will always be the hottest guy in the world to me. There isn’t a more beautiful person than him.

I believe in true love. So even though it’s taking forever, I do believe that I’m destined to meet the one someday.

Dressing up fancy usually makes me feel better, even when I’m ill. But lately I avoided drawing too much attention, so I don’t usually do that anymore.

I wish I had more time to read. I love reading, but I just can’t find the time to do that.

Music always makes me feel better. I pick music that fits my mood and even when it’s sad and dramatic music, it helps for some reason.

If I haven’t replied in more than 10 minutes, I’m probably trying to ignore you. I will most likely fail, but it does mean I’m mad at you.

I barely ever give up on people. So if I do give up on you, you really fucked up.

My way of handling things that make me mad is by arguing in my head and then completely avoiding argument in real life.

I’m way too honest in the morning and late at night. I say things I usually keep to myself because I don’t want to hurt anyone.

I’m also getting dirtier the later it gets. So, basically talking to me late at night is a bad idea.

I only 1% of the things I think, because even that 1% always seems to be enough to ruin everything.

It’s very easy to make me feel guilty. That’s why I hate confronting people about stuff that bothers me, because I will end up being the one to blame.

No matter how angry I am, I usually find a way to hide it in my messages. So when it shows, that means I’m too tired to think twice about what I say.

I can’t hide my feelings in real life though. If I’m having a shitty day, you’ll notice.

When things get awkward I’ll always blame myself for it. It’s probably something I said.

Same goes for when people don’t reply. My first thought will always be that it’s my fault.

Being so far away from my best friend kills me. It gets a little worse every day. I just wish I’d have a specific day to look forward to, the day I’ll finally meet him.

My main wish is to one day have someone in my life who truly knows me. Someone who can deal with my mood swings and who won’t accept “I’m fine” for an answer when he knows I’m not.

There’s not a single person who I tell everything to.

It’s an amazing feeling when I get random messages of friends saying they love me. It’s nice to know people think about me at random moments.

I know I’m a dramatic person, but that doesn’t mean I can do anything about it.

When I truly love you, I will go out of my way to make you feel just how much I love you.

I love making lists.