#murphy twins my loves

[sincerealev]

Murphy siblings headcanons nowwwww (if you want of course (It appears you do want))

MURPHY SIBLINGS HEADCANONS LET'S GOOO

Bisexual siblings fr fr (though Connor's already canonically bi, right?)

Connor is transmasc, also identifying as genderfluid

→ Zoe is genderqueer. Maybe gender non-conforming. In general, she doesn't really care about gender and stuff, but still likes presenting as androgynous and feminine, depending on how she's feeling

→ Also they both go by "they". he/they for Connor, she/they for Zoe

They're (fraternal) twins. When they were kids, up to age 9 or something, people who were meeting them for the first time would confuse them easily

They both have heterochromia: Connor has one blue eye, Zoe a green one, and the other is brown

→ Their heterochromia is mirroring (?); Connor's brown eye is the left one, and Zoe's is her right eye

They're both the tallest of the friend group. Connor is the tallest (like 6'2), followed by Zoe (around 5'10)

Connor's favorite bands are The Smiths and My Chemical Romance

→ But he also listens to rock and metal in general, maybe some indie artists too

He had a crush on Kurt Cobain and Gerard Way when he was like 13

Some artists/bands Zoe likes are Fiona Apple, David Bowie, Fleetwood Mac, TV Girl and Chappell Roan

→ One of her favorite songs is Starman by David Bowie

Connor started learning acoustic guitar with Zoe's help, and eventually started learning electric guitar too (his guitars are two of his most precious possessions)

He's a self taught artist; He mostly draws on sketchbooks, but has painted on canvases before (and he's got a TON of sketchbooks)

Zoe has a big crush on Alana. Naturally, Connor teases her over it, which just results in her teasing him back over his crush on Evan

Connor went through a million hair phases, starting with short hair styles, but once he settled on long hair he's never got it cut again since

Connor was a "it's not a phase mommmm 🤬" kid in his early teens (except it actually was NOT a phase)

He has a white ragdoll cat named Winter, which Zoe also claims as her own lol. Then Connor moved out and took the cat with him, which Zoe (jokingly) hasn't forgiven him for

Zoe went to a music school after highschool, so she was able to successfully build a career around her music

→ She even started a band with some of her band buddies from school

Connor went to art school, graduated as an art major, and then became a book illustrator and/or comic artist

Okay I think that should be enough 🤸 tell me your thoughts or your own hcs if you'd like :-)

[coquettxr]

me and him but he's too scared to make the first move (either i am)

[pumaskulls]

nothing fills me with more amusement than having discord emotes of my own OCs

[existentialcrisis-24-7]

I wanna talk about my ocs so bad but

That’s spoilers >:(

For something I’m probably never gonna write/draw

[just-some-random-blogger]

Sweets & Sweeties

You opened a bakeshop called Sweets & Sweeties which was just beside Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, and one day you accidentally lock yourself outside.

George Weasley x Reader (x Fred Weasley) | 1k+ | cw: fem!reader, Murphy's law, fred lives stfu, fluff, rizzler!Georgie, typos, etc.

A/N: i have this fic called tormented spirit and its fucked me up cos of how sad it is HAHAHAH i need a break and thats coming from someone who LOVES angst. ALSO i was never super into Harry Potter so idk lore™ but I've been watching the phelps twins and their baking show related content and i'm just so endeared by them AHHHHHHHHH. please leave comments/reblogs because this feels a bit mid cos i havent written fluff in 100 years T_T cross posted on ao3 | continuation fic

@pendragora if i have to suffer, you have to suffer

Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was always busy. Everyday, there were children and children-at-heart going up and down the block, eager to buy themselves trinket or treat to promptly cause mischief.

Because of the shop's success, your own shop also benefitted from it. Sweets & Sweeties was your dream come true. As a child, you loved sweet treats, and you would grow to learn you loved making them just as much.

You hadn't expected to sell out as often as you did, and you knew it was all thanks to the fact the establishment next door brought as many customers as they did, who then became your customers.

You were extremely grateful, and tried time and time again to show it through a simple gesture of a gift. It was rather hard to find the time to do so however, as the neighbor establishment was constantly packed. The first time you saw the owner of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, he had introduced himself as: "George Weasley," he says, dusting off his hands before reaching one out for you.

You merely stare at him, your smile flattening slightly, only to grow wider as you chuckle. Both of your hands held a tray of cake, and it was quite a weighty cake at that, "I-"

"Right," he brushes his hands on his trousers, "right. Sorry, let me help you with that."

He takes the cake from you and ushers you deeper into the store. You gasp when a small child runs across him, unfortunately bumping into his side. Thankfully, George manages to lift the cake, evading the collision. The girl who bumped into him looks up, eyes wide, hands clutched, looking rather guilty, "s-sorry, Mr. Weasley."

The tall man's brows furrow as he looks down. He whines, "s'not Mr. Weasley, it's George."

The girl stares at him for a moment.

"Say it with me: George."

She clutches her chest and mutters, "Georgie?"

George purses his lips together in a soft smile and nods, "Georgie it is then."

Your hand comes to your mouth as you chuckle and follow after the red haired man. He leads you into the back office and you gasp yet again, this time, because of the photograph on the wall. It was a family portrait of a myriad of other red heads breaking into a wide grin.

"There's two of you!" you point.

George sets the cake down on his desk and crosses his arms once he's besides you, "nah. There's only one person in the family as good looking as me," he turns to the photograph, "that's my twin brother, Fred."

"Oh," you turn to him, taken off guard by how close he was, "is..." you casually take a step back, "he around?"

"Yeah," he shrugs, "probably showing the customers how to use the thingamabobs."

You chuckle and nod, "well," you motion vaguely, "I know you're very busy, so I won't take any more of your time."

The man tilts his head, lips curled into an soft grin as he shrugs, "you don't hear me complaining, love."

You aimlessly look off to steel away the giggle that threatened to leave your lips, "right," you clear your throat, "ehhh, do tell me if the cake is to you—"

Before you can even finish your thought, George is back at his desk. He swipes a dollop of frosting and tastes it.

"—r... liking."

He raises his brows as he nods, "it's to my liking."

The both of you just stand there for a moment, staring at each other. You're now rather painfully aware of your breathing.

You start when the office door bangs open and a near exact replica of George comes walking in, "you would not believe what just—"

George's eyes are on you as you turn to his twin. You raise your hand, "hi... I'm-" you point to nowhere, "-the baker next door."

He turns to George, then back to you, reaching out his left hand, "Fred Weasley."

You smile and shake his hand, speaking your name in return.

"Hey!" George walks over, reaching out a hand, "I didn't get a handshake!"

You turn to George and his outstretched left hand, about to shake it, but Fred does not release you, and only turns to his twin.

"Fred-"

"I'm not done."

George watches Fred shake your hand, "well that's more than enough."

"Not really," Fred shrugs.

You chuckle softly, making them turn to you. You then offer your other hand to George, crossing your arm over the other, "here."

George looks at it and takes it with his right one. The three of your shake each other's hands for a questionably long time.

When you're finally released, you hold back a laugh and rub your palms on the side of your hips, "right... it was a pleasure to meet you both."

They nod in sync, "the pleasure is ours."

You giggle and raise a hand in regard, "come by my shop sometimes."

They wave back at you as you head for the door.

"I'll make you both a cuppa."

They smile as you exit their office. Once you were gone, the brothers instantly turn to each other.

Fred says, "she's cute."

"Yeah, I saw her first," George counters.

"Pfft, so what?"

"So, everything."

Meeting them was so... notable, that you thought about it the entire day. You found yourself giggling about the handshake for the nth time as you closed up, and right after you heard the door click, you whip your head back in realization that you'd left your bag in the counter, along with your keys.

You shake the doorknob, trying to will the door open, though you knew it was pointless, "no, no, no, NO!"

You step back and stare at the windows of your shop. You ruffle your hair and huff as you debate how bad the idea of breaking the glass with the rock would be.

You stare that your sign that read Sweets & Sweeties, feeling taunted by it so suddenly, and then you remember you forgot another thing. The window on the rooftop was surely open from when you opened it to let out some steam. What's more, it looked like it was about to rain!

"Oh," you groan and wrap your arms around yourself, "thank goodness I left my brolly too."

You crouch in front of your unlit shop, feeling rather helpless.

You hear a bell ring and turn to the shop next door. Out comes George and Fred, much wiser than you, with their brollies and suitcases in hand. They call your name in unison and you sigh as you come to stand.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" one of them says.

You freeze at the pet name, and he seems to catch on. He points upward, "sweetie."

You turn to your sign and feel bashful. You awkwardly chuckle, "right, I-"

"You alright?" another asks.

You look between them, "yeah," and shake your head, "no, ehhh, sorry... I... which is," you point in confusion, "which?"

"George," the one to your right raises a hand.

"Fred," the one to your left raises a hand.

"Right," you lower your head as you shake it, "sorry, I don't-"

"You'll get used to it," they say in unison.

You huff as you look back at them, both of their lips are pursed, "right..." you turn to your shop and point, "I, eh... locked myself out."

They turn to where you did.

"And I left my bag..."

They turn back to you.

"And my keys."

They make a face.

"And my brolly," you turn to you feet for a moment, "and the window in my roof open."

"Oooh," they say at once. George bares his teeth, "bad luck."

"And," Fred adds, looking up, "it looks like it's about to rain."

"I know!" you gasp, placing your hands on both sides of your head.

For a moment, the three of you stand there, soaking in your misfortune. A moment later, George turns to his brother and says, "hang on."

Fred turns to him.

"Don't we have a window in the roof, Fred?"

Fred turns to you, "that we do, George."

George turns to you too, "how are you with heights?"

"Ehhh..." your lips part, "....fine?"

With that, the twins head to the entrance of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, beckoning you over. They reopen the lights, leave their things by the door, and lead you upstairs.

"Now," George (you think) says, "I'd like to think our roof's pretty sturdy, but," he pulls out wand from his coat jacket, "I can always do a good ol' Levioso if anything goes awry."

You are comforted by the thought and nod as you make your way up. When you get to the top, you see a singular tiny window by the side of the roof and you momentarily wonder if this was a good idea.

"D'ya know what," George (you think) says, turning to his brother, "you should go down and watch her as she crosses, so in case anything happens," he points, "you can make sure she doesn't fall."

Fred (you think) shakes his head, "why me?"

"Because it was my idea to cast Levioso, Fred," George (you were right) retorts.

"Then you go down!" Fred whines.

"I'm not going down," he crosses his arms, "I just got here."

"Yeah, so did I—"

"SCISSORS, PAPER, ROCK!"

You watch to the instant match the twins have, finding one rock and scissors at hand. George grins, raising his winning fist. Fred rolls his eyes and sighs. He turns to you before going down.

George smiles and motions with his head, "come on then, I'll help you up."

He drags a box towards the window and reaches a hand out to you. You take his hand and step up, then reach for the sides of the window, pulling yourself up to get on the roof. You are glad their window was right in front of yours and that it wasn't a far walk at all.

Fred, who just got outside, catches his breath before cupping the sides of his mouth, "careful!"

You turn to him from below and call back, "trying!"

George watches you closely as you cross to the other side. He probably shouldn't think the wobble of your limbs endearing, but he does. The moment reach your window, he claps, "aye!"

You are quick to jump down, grunting as you do so. You turn around and smile at George who was already smiling back at you. He raises his hands, "you did it, sweetie!"

"I did, wheezing wizard!"

"Well," he tilts his head, "it's Wizard Wheezes but..." he shrugs, "you can just call me Georgie."

You raise your brows.

"I- I mean George."

You chuckle and purse your lips as you shake your head, "too late, Georgie."

"Now, hold on-"

"See you downstairs, Georgie!" you give a toothy grin as you close your window. You bite your lip and giggle to yourself for a moment, "cutie."

Georgie clenches his jaw as he stares the window. He sighs and kicks the box away before closing it, "damn."

[seadeepspaceontheside]

I AM NOT GOING TO ADD MORE TOO THIS BECAUSE I GOT TOO MUCH ON MY PLATE but this was my KnightAu I had for Hob and Dream that you can read under the cut where I post about it earlier.

I am never gonna draw house of the dragon fanart but like I love insanity of how Cole and Alicient have for their former love (Rhaenyra) to fuck in her bed and thoughts of her non-stop. Which leads me to this Knight AU because I am honestly torn with the idea of a Dark!Hob that would do anything for their King until he was spurred because God Damn Fabien Frankel looks like a Young Hob. Or Hob Knight who is more like Harwin Strong/Ryan Corr who understands Dream's position and is loyal to him and is very much happy being the consort and a step-father to the King's children. Or even there are two Knight Hobs maybe either brothers (a year or two apart) or twins that are now at each other's throats over it. The older (Robert) who had the favour and then turned vengeful and vindictive not only his obsession with now King Morpheus while his younger brother/twin is now taken with the King. (Morpheus didn't think he would be King because of his older brother and sister. But incidents happen, so his brother Potmos/Destiny and the relm refusing Teleute/Death puts him in line of heir so he had to marry Calliope. Morpheus knowing that giving up the throne to his younger siblings was a bad idea. He would have run away with Robert when he wasn't heir. As well as his Calliope and Morpheus had an agreement that they could love others but Robert saw that as not being as in love with him) Robert hating how his younger brother mocks the nature of knighthood and coming to with such ease and now the King's favour and love. The Younger being always had feeling in his brothers shadow when Morpheus is with him. Hob had always feelings for the young lord when they were young but knowing that Rob and Morpheus were in love he was content with just being in love afar. It is not till later when his brother has no more right to the King's heart that he goes for it. And when his Older taunts him as a replacement and how the King has failed that he needs to be held back by fucking a hoard of knights from kicking the shit out of his older.

Much like Eddard and Brandon, I think just because Older Hob was his first love does not mean it was his real or true love. King Murphy would love Younger Hob knight as he is who he is and tells them apart a lot. And Morpheus has always cared for Hob but it grew into a more of a love. Much like later in life like Rhaenyra does hate Cole, he hates !DarkOlderHob for what he has become and how he makes his brother feel.

Either way watching HOTD gave me knight Hob feels. (seeing Harwin Strong do the thing with the nod and the rabbit I am like oh thats so Hob)

Also yes Dream does get kidnapped by the Scorned lord Rodrick Burgess and they cut his hair for proof to ransom! Also I said in the replies but *** Hob when he does get with Morpheus shaves to look more like Rob thinking it would be better to be basically his brothers replacement but Morpheus loves him the way he looks.

[dixons-sunshine]

Make A Move | Murphy MacManus x Fem!Reader

Summary: Murphy had liked you for years. However, he was always scared to make a move, too afraid that he’d damage his friendship with you if he made a move. Thankfully, a small push from his brother made him brave his fear, making for an unforgettable moment for the man.

Genre: Fluff.

Warnings: Swearing.

Word count: 2.1k.

A/N: This was meant to be a drabble. I didn’t intend for it to be this long. However, my muse took this idea and bolted with it, and I let her do it because it rarely happens anymore. My first story in a while that’s longer than 500 words, and I’m proud of myself for it. Let’s hope the muse stays for a while so I can power through some requests. Anyways, happy Murphy Monday, my loves!

“If ya stare at ‘er any harder, you’re gonna burn a hole straight through her skull.”

Murphy jumped at the sudden, unexpected sound of his brother’s voice close to his ear. Some of his beer spilled out of his glass, trickling down his shirt and onto his jeans, making Murphy glare daggers at his cackling brother. “It’s not funny.”

“Oh, but it is!” Connor laughed and shook his head, slapping his knee just for the dramatics—and to piss his brother off even more, because he found it rather amusing. “You’re so lovestruck, starin’ at her, you haven’t even heard a single word I’ve said these last fifteen minutes.”

“Of course I’ve been listening,” Murphy tried to defend himself while placing his beer glass on the bar’s counter, trying to dry the wetness on his shirt.

Connor snorted in amusement. “Yeah? Then what was I busy sayin’?”

Fuck. “Somethin’ ‘bout...” Murphy trailed off, trying to hone in on his ‘twin power’ to see if he could read Connor’s mind.

“About Y/N...” Connor began, waiting to see if Murphy would catch on to his ruse. However, much to Connor’s great amusement, he didn’t catch on at all. This is going to be great, Connor mused silently.

“Yeah, about Y/N! ‘Bout how she...”

“She looks...”

“Yeah, she looks...”

“Real cute in that dress.”

“Real cute in that dress!” Murphy finished as if knowing exactly what Connor had been talking about. However, Murphy quickly realized that Connor had set him up, and he punched his brother’s shoulder in a weak attempt at retaliation. “You’re a real dick, y’know that?” he grumbled in annoyance.

Connor doubled over with laughter, nearly spilling his own beer. “You’re just so gullible sometimes, brother.”

“I hate you,” Murphy retorted, picking up his beer and taking a big swig from it. “You’re a pain in the ass.”

“Murph, you can’t say that about your brother.”

The sound of your beautiful, angelic voice reached Murphy’s ears, and he almost spilled his beer again due to being startled—again. He looked up and locked eyes with you, his cheeks flushing at the radiant smile you sent his way as you wiped the countertop in front of him.

“Aye, tell him, las,” Connor laughed, wrapping an arm around Murphy’s shoulder and lightly shaking him. “Tell him he’s bein’ mean to his dear brother. Tell him he needs to quit or otherwise he’s gonna hurt his brother’s feelings.”

You rolled your eyes at Connor’s words, a small, light laugh escaping you. “Yeah, what he said,” you ‘agreed’, placing the rag down behind the counter and leaning on top the wooden surface. “Can I get you boys anything else?”

“Nah, I’m alright. Pretty sure Rocco already ordered me somethin’. I’m about to wipe the floor with him once I beat him at that.” Connor motioned over to the pool table. He took the final swig of his beer, placed the glass down on the countertop and sent you one final smile, before looking back at Murphy with a look that the other twin knew clearly meant “this is your chance. Don’t fuck it up.” With that, Connor walked away, leaving Murphy alone with you.

Murphy shook his head and toyed with the rim of his beer glass. It was no secret to anyone—except you—that the MacManus brother seated at the bar was head over heels for you. However, as flirtatious a man as Murphy was, this was different. You were different. You weren’t just some random lady he wanted to charm to get her number or something along those lines. He had known you for three years at that point in time. You had become one of the most important people in his life, and he greatly valued your friendship. If he were to ask you out and you happened to say no, would your friendship be irrevocably damaged? Would you cast him out of your life? Would he ever be permitted to even breathe the same air as you?

“You’re thinking really hard, Murph. Penny for your thoughts?”

Your voice reached Murphy’s ears, and he wished that you would never stop talking. He could listen to you ramble on forever. Your voice was so addictive to listen to. However, he quickly snapped himself out of his thoughts, reminding himself that you had asked him a question. “I’m alright, las. Just thinking.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said,” you giggled, unknowingly making Murphy’s heart leap at the beautiful sound. “What are you thinking about?”

Murphy shrugged and looked down. “Nothin’.”

“You know, people can’t usually think of nothing, because the human brain, according to what I know, is incapable of comprehending nothing. When you think of nothing, you see black, a void, right? Therefore you aren’t technically thinking of nothing, because a void is still something.” You let out a small laugh at the confused frown that spread across Murphy’s face. “Sorry. I just had to. It’s my favourite response for when people say they’re thinking of nothing. It confuses the hell out of people.”

Murphy chuckled and leaned his forearms on the counter. “Is that true? That whole thing you just said?”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t know. I’m not a scientist,” you replied with a small smile.

Murphy chuckled again. “Could’ve fooled me. That sounds like something straight out of those science articles in the magazines.”

“Why, thank you. I am pleased to know that I am able to sound intelligent enough in the presence of true intelligence,” you stated in an over exaggerated posh voice.

Murphy frowned at that. “Me? Intelligent? Where’d ya get that from, las?”

You raised your eyebrows at that. “You’re kidding,” you laughed in a disbelieving tone. “You speak, like, two thousand languages fluently. How the hell’s that not intelligent?”

Murphy shrugged nonchalantly. “It isn’t that hard. You just gotta keep practicin’ ‘em consistently. It also helps that I’ve been exposed to those languages from an early age. Anyone could do it, though. Even you.”

“Yeah? Literally all I can say in another language is “bon appetite”, and the only reason I know what that means is because I took one semester of French back in high school.”

“That’s still impressive, though.”

You scoffed and shook your head with a smile. “No need to try and make me feel better about myself, Murph. I’m not trying to seek pity. I’m sure there’s something I can do that you can’t.”

Murphy smiled and nodded. “Yeah, there’s probably plenty of things you’re better at than me. Hell, I can think of one right now.” Murphy leaned back and stretched, his shirt riding up slightly to expose the skin beneath the fabric, and the man missed the way your eyes trailed over it, and the way you quickly averted your gaze when you realized what you had been doing. “You crochet, right? I’ve tried that before. All I managed to do was somehow poke myself in the eye.”

You giggled at that. “One point for me, I guess, and a hundred points for you, still.” Before Murphy could protest and reassure you that you were indeed talented and that you could do things he couldn’t, you moved on. “But enough about that. What were you and Connor talking about before I came over? I heard my name being mentioned.”

Murphy’s eyes widened at your question. What the hell was he supposed to say? Should he tell the truth? Should he lie? Should he make up an excuse and hightail it out of there? However, Connor’s look from before, the ‘don’t fuck it up’ look, appeared in Murphy’s mind, and he sighed. There was no time like the present, he supposed. Might as well test the waters and see where he stood with you.

“Connor was teasin’ me, las, ‘cause I was busy starin’ at ya,” he admitted quietly, his cerulean eyes staring into yours, anxiously awaiting your reaction.

To say you were shock would be the understatement of the century. Your eyes widened at his admission, your heart beginning to pound out of your chest. However, you tried to school your expression to a more neutral one, attempting to hide your nerves—and excitement. “You were staring at me?” When Murphy nodded, you inhaled once, scraping together the confidence for what you were about to say. “You like what you saw?”

Be cool, be cool, Murphy thought to himself, trying not to expose how nervous he actually was. “Oh, I love what I see.”

See. He had used the present tense. It could’ve meant nothing, but you clung to the hope that it meant something. You locked eyes with him, a small, flirtatious—well, you hoped it was flirtatious—smile spreading across your face. “Yeah?”

“Aye,” Murphy nodded. You weren’t repulsed by his ‘advances’. He took that as a good sign. “I always love what I see when it comes to you, las. You’re a beautiful lady. I could stare at ya for hours.” You giggled shyly and ducked your head, making Murphy smile affectionately. “And that’s the truth. You know I hate lyin’.”

Your heart was pounding against your ribcage. With each compliment he gave you, your confidence grew immensely. “You’re not too harsh on the eyes either, Murph,” you replied jokingly. That was an understatement. He was damn pleasing to look at. You could stare at him for hours.

Murphy chuckled at that. “That’s good to know, otherwise this would’ve been embarrassin’, me makin’ a move on a beautiful lady while lookin’ like a dried out pickle.”

Your heart both simultaneously sped up and stopped. Making a move. So it wasn’t just playful, flirtatious banter? You were immensely pleased to hear that. “You’re making a move on me?”

Murphy readapted his earlier shy demeanour. “Um, no. I don’t—” He cut himself off by taking a deep breath, before exhaling and continuing. He was already in too deep. There was no backing out now. “I mean, yeah. I am. I jus’... I’ve been wantin’ to ask you out for a while now, but I was too afraid. I’m sorry if that’s weird or anythin’, las. I didn’t mean to make ya uncomfortable. I can leave if ya—”

Murphy never got to finish his sentence. He was effectively shut up from his nervous rambling by your hands grabbing the lapels of his jacket, tugging him up from his seat to lean over the counter, your lips crashing against his for a kiss. This first kiss exchanged between the two of you wasn’t like the ones he’d seen in those cheesy romance movies Connor would sometimes force him to watch. It was sloppy and messy, yet tender and gentle, too. It was perfect.

Whoops and cheers filled the air around you, making you and Murphy pull apart. The two of you looked towards the pool table where everyone had gathered to watch Rocco and Connor compete, and saw that everyone’s attention rested on the two of you, and you quickly became aware that everyone had witnessed the kiss happen. The cheers and clapping proceeded, making Murphy duck his head as his cheeks became ablaze in embarrassment. You simply waved the men at the pool table off, rolling your eyes at them to mask the embarrassment you felt as well.

Game forgotten, Connor made his way over to the two of you and wrapped his arm around Murphy’s shoulder, lightly shaking him a few times, a huge, satisfied grin on his face. “Atta boy, Murph! I knew ya could do it.” His blue eyes trailed over to you, his grin now directed towards you. “Proud of you, too, las. I’ve known ‘bout your little crush on ol’ Murphy here for a while now.”

Rocco, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, hoisted himself up onto the counter and sent you a teasing smirk. “I’m surprised either of ‘em made a move. Thought we were gonna be stuck in an endless loop of lovestruck staring.”

As Connor and Rocco continued on with their teasing, your eyes drifted over to meet Murphy’s. He sent you a small, shy smile, his cheeks tinted with a crimson colour. You sent him a smile back, your heart fluttering in your chest. Let Connor and Rocco tease you for all you care. Your moment with Murphy was perfect, and it was an amazing turning point in your relationship with the MacManus brother.

Now all you had to do was wait for another minute alone, and then you’d definitely repeat your actions, albeit this time, away from prying eyes.

[a-b-riddle]

Books that give off _____ vibes

Going to edit this later with my reasons why, but figured for those that would be interested in recommendations, here you go.

Simon Riley

Warren from “Next of Kin” by Hannah Bonam-Young

Lowe from “Bride” Ali Hazelwood

Logan from “The Pumpkin Spice Cafe” Laurie Gilmore

Brendan from “It happened one summer” by Tessa Bailey

Josh from “Lights Out” by Navessa Allen

Orpheus from “A Soul to Keep” by Opal Reyne

Leon from “Her Soul to Takel by Harley Laroux

Johnny MacTavish

Elliot from “Love and Other Words” by Christina Lauren

Fox from “Hook, Line, and Sinker” by Tessa Bailey

“My Orc Valentine” by K.L. Wyatt

Rowan from “Butcher and Blackbird” by Brynne Weaver

Magnar from “A Soul to Heal” by Opal Reyne

Gerald Gibson from Boys Of Tommen series

Kyle Garrick

Gabe from “Funny you should ask” by Elissa Sussman

Julian from “Secretly Yours” by Tessa Bailey

Nolan from “A merry little meet cute” by Sierra Simone and Julie Murphy

John Price

Adrian from “Pen Pals” by J.T. Geissinger

“Stolen by the Orc Commander” by K.L. Wyatt

Aiden from “The Wall of Winnipeg and Me”

Damien from “Tis the season for Revenge.” By Morgan Elizabeth.

Hades from “Neon Gods” by Katee Robert

All four of them?

The Never King Series by Nikki St. Crowe

Pan- Price

Vane- Simon

The twins- Johnny & Kyle

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

I’ll Throw Away My Faith, Babe, Just to Keep You Safe

Part 2

Pairing: Murphy MacManus x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Allusions to violence; Blood and injury; Poorly written smut; That damn iron again

You rubbed your forehead, a headache brewing behind your eyes. You would definitely have preferred to be at the bar with Doc. Instead, the boys had left you at the church while they handled the threat, a job in which they excelled without you being used as a pawn. Now they were pissed, seeking something beyond justice.

The worst part was the silence. Without the distraction of sound, your thoughts were free to wander, a myriad of conceptions that stretched from your childhood to your current predicament, pivoting back to the scene with Murphy; his arms around you, his breath hot against your ear, the way he had leaned into your touch. If only you could have stayed—

The door flew open and smacked the wall. You were on your feet before you even realized what it was you were doing. The least you could do was ensure you were worth the battle Murphy and Connor were facing. 

Your clenched fists relaxed as the brothers—Romeo in tow—entered, Murphy limping heavily and Connor cradling an arm to his chest. “Oh, thank god!” Your face was buried against Murphy’s neck within the span of a heartbeat, your arms beneath his, squeezing his torso. He let out a gasp—one that nearly had you jumping away—before you felt his warmth surround you. 

“Hello, love.” He murmured into your hair, his hands softly rubbing your back. You were forced to swallow the whimper pushing against the hind side of your teeth, concealing just how worried you had been. What if he had never returned? 

“Are they all—” You began, the words trailing behind the softest of sniffles. 

“Always be people like them in this world, lass.” His lips pressed against your temple before he hobbled back a step and placed his hands on your upper arms. “But aye, they’re gone.”

With a nod, you dropped your head and wiped at your eyes. He had seen you cry plenty of times, seen how the risks he took weighed so heavily on your shoulders. Regardless, it seemed more difficult now to allow him audience with your tears. 

“Grab the iron.” Connor elbowed Romeo with his good arm and stalked into the room, falling heavily into the chair you had previously occupied. 

“Always with the iron!” Your lips drew straight into a pinched smile as he passed, waving you off with his uninjured arm. 

Watching him walk—really seeing him—you turned back to Murphy. His face was bruised and littered with cuts, flecks of blood splattered on tanned skin. A crimson pool had puddled around his boot. 

“Murphy!” You exclaimed, grabbing his wrist. “You’re hurt!” The bullet had tagged his thigh, the metal a dense pressure in tissue and muscle. He was fortunate it had missed the artery. “Sit down, come on.” Guiding him to the single bed, you glanced toward Romeo and did a double-take. He was plugging in a compact iron. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

You couldn’t stop pacing. How could they ever think you’d feel comfortable in a hotel while they remained in the church? You should have been with them, helping clean up the mess, taking care of them. They had refused, claiming your safety was priority number one. 

Your life as you knew it was over. Murphy had mentioned a new apartment. He had been adamant that you needed to be kept at a distance, not seen with them again. It would be a miracle if your existence remained unnoticed by other threats when such a prominent mob had discovered your ties to the MacManus twins.

You knew that they’d never be able to keep you away. Deep down, they knew it too. It was a codependency. They needed you just as much as you needed them. Safety be damned, no one would take that away from you: Italian mob, police, the Pope himself. 

Worrying your bottom lip between your teeth, the phone became the centerpiece of your attention. Their instructions were clear: do not call until they could get a burner phone. The risk of being traced and found was just too great. 

Damn them and their vigilante lifestyle. 

Just as the war within found a victor and you reached for the receiver, there was a knock at the door. Startled, you jumped and nearly struck the lamp off of the nightstand. The last time someone had knocked, it had been the precursor to one of the most terrifying nights of your life. 

“Shit.” You whispered, creeping toward the door with a cautionary edge. The soft rapping didn’t sound again before you peered through the peephole. 

“It’s only me.” Murphy grinned, leaning in as if he could see you on the other side. 

Rolling your eyes, you disengaged the lock and opened the door. “Ass.” He was limping over the threshold before you had even fully stepped out of the way, invading your space with his warmth and the intoxicating scent of smoke and something that was just so incredibly Murphy. “What’re you doing here?”

“Making sure everything’s okay.” He picked up a room service menu from the desk and glanced at it. “Needed to know that you’re safe.”

You suddenly wanted your hands on him, beyond intimacy, but to ensure yourself that he was really here. Thoughts drifting and lingering on that first day in the hall, your focus settled on how Connor must have felt. As seasoned as he was, there had been a fear in his eyes, a stricken terror that he was going to lose Murphy. 

And now, you knew how that felt. So many times, since that day, you had sat around your apartment and wondered if that would be the day he didn’t return. If that would be the day the god in whose name he fought would take him from you. If you could have done something, done more. And once he was home, you agonized over how you could ensure you never had to feel that way ever again, how you could keep him safe. 

“Hey, lass.” You blinked and met the brilliant blue of his gaze, only in that moment realizing that he was rubbing your upper arm. “Where’d that pretty head of yours take you?” It should have been easy to say all you wanted to express within the confines of your own head, but giving actual breath to the words was next to impossible. 

Especially when he was looking at you like that. 

His expression was different. It lacked the mildness of an alcohol-induced calm, but his eyes were the same. The same intent observance as the night he had bid you stay. Sobriety would bar those words from ever crossing his lips but his eyes said it all. 

“Stay.”

It took you a moment to realize it had been your tongue to utter the word and a moment more to realize how many different ways you had meant it. Stay in your life. Stay with you and give up the mission. Stay at the hotel.

His hand had stilled. “Y/N?”

You swallowed hard past the newly formed lump in your throat. “Stay with me tonight.” The vulnerability that you had attempted to avoid built up its glass walls, and you suddenly felt the intense fear of the stone that would shatter them. “I mean, if you want to. I’m just worried that—well, you know—you and Connor—what if—”

Your lips burned from the moment his touched them, a scorching buzz that you were certain you’d feel long after he pulled away. You had barely anticipated that moment when he stepped closer, his hands on either side of your face. You melted into his touch, knees unexpectedly weak, his right hand abandoning its position to press against the small of your back and keep you standing. 

When he did end the moment, your eyes remained closed, lips chasing his as you held tight to the feeling you had just experienced. You nearly whined when the silence willed you to look at him. With a second of trepidation, you blinked your eyes open—and nearly gasped. 

The same pregnable hesitation you had felt only moments ago reflected back at you, bathed in radiant blue. There was a sparkle in the dance of his gaze, his search for permission to continue. When your words refused to find breath, Murphy stepped back. 

“I’m sorry, lass.” He murmured, quickly withdrawing his hands. “I’m a right proper eejit.” He pursed his lips and nodded, affirming the statement to himself even as you shook your head and stepped forward to close the space once again.

“No, no, no. Murphy, I was just—taken by surprise.” His eyes narrowed, that adorable expression that meant he was working something out. “I want this. I want this so much!” It was you to seal your lips over his this time, your arms thrown around his neck. Murphy chuckled against your mouth, his smile forcing you to kiss his teeth before he pulled back. “What?” You asked breathlessly.

“Nothing, love. Just,” he reached up to rub your upper arms, his hands gliding down over your ribs to settle on the curve of your waist, “slow down, yeah?” Tilting his head, he craned his neck to follow your gaze when you nervously attempted to look away. Your cheeks flared pink with embarrassment. “Unless you’re late for the next lad?” He teased. 

You huffed a laugh through your nose. “Shut up.” 

“Gladly.” His right hand abandoned your hip for his fingers to instead clasp your chin and guide your face back toward his. Leaning forward, he nuzzled his nose against yours before claiming your lips, a slow dance that coaxed you to sigh and relax into his hold. When he started walking you backward, you were too enthralled with the taste of him to realize where he was guiding you until the back of your knees hit the edge of the mattress.

Thrown off balance, you began to tumble back, eyes shooting open and an indignant oomf sounding against Murphy’s lips. You separated from him with a deep breath just as your butt hit the soft padding behind you. He was grinning down at you, peeling his peacoat from his shoulders to let it slide off his arms into a pile on the floor. 

It wasn’t the first time you had appreciated how well the man wore a t-shirt. Murphy was lean with whipcord muscles beneath tan, inked skin. His biceps flexed while his hands grabbed the back collar of his shirt to pull it over his head. Your mouth went dry and your brain blanked for a moment, the neurons only firing once again when his knee pressed into the mattress between your thighs. Wide eyes blinked up at him.

He went still. “This okay, love?” You nodded with an almost comical enthusiasm, eliciting a chuckle from the man above you. His mouth had barely opened to say something, but snapped shut the moment your hands seized the hem of your shirt to yank it over your head (with only a small amount of difficulty). “Eager,” was all he managed. 

You bit back a plea, though the desperation to touch him was dangerously close to unbearable. Murphy’s tongue dragged across his bottom lip, followed by his thumb, the digit hovering at the corner of his mouth. His eyes were glued to the curve of your breasts above your bra, the skin flushed with arousal. You were ready to pounce the man. Self-control was not an easy feat at that very moment.

When neither of you moved for a lingering heartbeat—just long enough to make it awkward—you let your fingers touch the skin that seemed to be mesmerizing him. He was helplessly following the movement of your hand. You pressed both palms against your sternum and carved a trail down to the waistband of your jeans, tapping the button with a single digit. 

“Need some help there?” He asked, a hungry edge to his tone. The way he squinted and shifted his eyes to your face, it was certain he had already mentally done all the undressing. 

“Mm-mm.” You declined with a sultry grin. Your stomach fluttered with something akin to anxiety, his undivided attention calling forth insecurities from your past relationships. But this was Murphy. You wanted him in a way that ached. A bone-deep desire that needed him to satisfy the primal urges he had awakened within you. 

You popped the button and watched his fingers twitch at his side. You could practically hear his heart pounding a tattoo into his ribcage, a smirk curving your lips.

Capturing your bottom lip between your teeth, you drew down the zipper and began to shimmy the fabric down over your hips. There was only a single pause—jeans hugging your thighs—when his breathing quickened. It was the slightest alteration and hitch. 

“Bloody hell, lass.” Murphy raked his fingers through his short hair, the skin of his cheeks and chest roseated. 

You giggled—actually giggled—and rid yourself of the garment in one quick motion, carelessly tossing it to land somewhere unknown. Beckoning him with a finger, you allowed your legs to fall open. He appeared to hesitate before it became abundantly clear that he was simply admiring the sight of you. Then his knee was denting the mattress once again and he crawled up the length of your body not unlike a predator stalking its prey. 

His weight settled on top of you, breath against your skin, the taste of a last cigarette clinging to his kiss. Your nails traced up and down the perfect slope of his back, feeling the muscles ripple and relax as his hands mapped the landscape of your body.

Unfortunately, Murphy’s jeans were still very much settled on his narrow hips. You would have to remedy that if you could remember how to make your body obey your brain.

“Mm, Murphy.” You breathed, arching into him to bare your throat. He hummed against your pulse, nipping at the exposed flesh. You mewled below him as he moved again, brushing his lips against yours without claiming them. When you leaned up, desperate for his mouth, he pulled back and grasped your chin. 

 “Are you sure, love?” 

You drew back against the mattress, angling to see his face. His eyes were so blue, pupils blown wide, and he was looking at you like you were the queen of his fucking castle. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.” 

Murphy said nothing as he leaned in to take your lips, urgent and heated. You smiled against his mouth as he pulled against the front clasps on your bra and parted it. He pulled the lacey fabric down your arms, exploring the treasures underneath, his desire building with every moan, every whine. You raised your hips as his capable fingers slid your undergarments down your legs, wasting no time in discarding them somewhere on the floor. 

His lips explored your chest with more fervor than before when he suddenly pulled away and stood, saving you the effort of being the one to rid him of the remainder of his clothes. You reached for him before he could settle back above you, twisting your fingers in his short hair to bring his lips back to yours.

Murphy nipped at you playfully and trailed wet kisses down your neck, chest, and stomach before he ventured lower, pausing just above where you needed him most. He brought your left leg up over his shoulder, angling his head to kiss your inner thigh. You shivered and bit your lip, arching off the mattress as he continued to work his way back up. When he settled between your thighs and reached down between your  bodies to line himself up with your entrance, your stomach knotted in anticipation.

He pushed into you slowly, the glorious stretch of accommodating him dragging a moan from somewhere deep within your chest. It was everything you had been yearning for, connection and pleasure intertwining into something you could not describe, much less name. 

Hypnotic blue orbs stared down at you. It was not until that moment, you realized he wasn’t moving. No words were said. You raised your head to meet his lips, calm and inviting, and slid your hands down his back while winding your legs around his calves. To Murphy, that was ‘green light: go.’ 

The first roll of his hips, the pleasant burn of adjustment, was exquisite. An involuntary shudder passed over him, silently communicating that it was he found it just as pleasurable. Your breath caught with each deep, deliberate drag along your walls, your toes curling. You felt like you were going to come apart, split right in two. 

His lips found yours again, his tongue drawing across your bottom lip to bid you grant him access. He had no more than locked into your mouth before retreating, dipping his tongue into the hollow of your throat. His mouth ventured to where your pulse was hammering, teeth grazing the flesh there while he pushed deeper into you. Your back curved upward, trapping your breasts against his chest while your fingers pressed roughly into his back, nails leaving crescent moons in the skin there. 

“Fan go teann, a ghrá.”

Blinking lust-fogged eyes clear, you had no chance to question before you were shunted upward by an ardent thrust. The pace he set was intense, but far from brutal. Your hands scrambled between white knuckling the headboard and digging your nails into any piece of flesh you could grip. 

 “Y/N.” 

Oh, the way he purred your name; you felt the heat of his tone searing into your core. The consistent spearing against that spot deep within you had your eyes rolling and your lips parted in quiet gasps. His breathy moans in your ear were swiftly catapulting you towards the edge much too soon. You once again bit your lip as a familiar tension began to coil and burn with each push and pull of him. 

Before you could reach your peak, he rolled and brought you with him, hands resting on your waist. You wasted no time and began to grind your hips, grinning as Murphy bucked off the mattress and hissed. His fingers tightened their grip, urging you to continue. You obliged, leaning forward to grab the headboard and earning sounds from the man that you didn’t even know he could make. You would surely have finger-shaped bruises later, but the sight of him writhing beneath you and breathing your name like a mantra was intoxicating. 

You found a perfect rhythm together, your hips snapping back and forth as his ground up into you. When your muscles began to flutter and hug him, he did nothing to hinder your gratification this time. Stars exploded behind your eyes as you crested with a cry of his name. Murphy followed, groaning hoarsely, head pressed back into the pillows with blissful agony carved harshly in every tensing muscle.

Dizzy and floating on a cloud higher than nine, you unceremoniously toppled over beside him and were immediately gathered to his side, lips pressing into your hair. Still lost in the post-coital high, you vaguely felt him shifting and smiled as the blankets came down over you. 

“That was—wow.” You marveled in a breath, blinking up at the ceiling while reorienting yourself with reality. You felt Murphy’s deep chuckle vibrate through his chest. 

“Aye.” He agreed, his throaty tone traveling straight to your lady parts. Down, girl. The second kiss you felt on the crown of your head was sobering, and you turned into him, your ear over his heart. 

“Murphy.” You uttered, your fingertips exploring the planes of his chest and stomach. He responded with a drawn out hum. Maybe he was falling asleep. “I—this was everything I’ve wanted for so long.” His breaths paused.

“Really?” He probed. Murphy pulled back and angled his head to regard you. 

“Mhm.” You tilted your face upward with the softest of smiles, watching your words turn about in his head. “Can I tell you a secret?” You grinned. 

“O’course.”

“I think I fell in love with you a while ago.” Admittedly, fear vibrated behind your teeth in an attempt to trap the words before you could voice them. “No. I know I did.”

The expression he wore frightened you, a stoicism you couldn’t decipher. “You love me?”

You didn’t miss a beat. “I do.” 

“Huh.” He smiled, staring off somewhere over your bare shoulder. “I often wondered about that.” 

That wasn’t really the answer you had hoped for, but you would take what you could get with him. 

“Well, now you know.” You couldn’t disguise the disappointment hovering densely over the words. You made to rest your head against his chest but he caught your chin between his forefinger and thumb. 

“I love you, too, lass. Have from the moment I laid eyes on you.” Bending awkwardly, he caught your mouth with his own, chaste but no less passionate. You were slow to open your eyes once the absence of his lips left yours cold and wanting. “bhí mo chroí agat i gcónaí.”

“I’m not sure what that means but I like the sound of it.” You chuckled before biting your lip when he rolled you onto your back, your legs bracketing his hips. 

“Maybe I won’t make you ponder on it for too long, but for now,” he kissed your jaw. “Let’s do that again, yeah?”

Laughing, you weaved your arms beneath his to pull him closer. “Oh, yeah.”

Murphy would definitely be spending the night.

[queenshelby]

Daughter Dearest (Part 11)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (47) x Step! Daughter (21)

Warning: Infidelity, Smut, Dysfunctional Family

Tag List will be updated soon! Please comment and engage!

The following few days passed like a blur. Cillian was in London, working and attending some meetings for another movie while you finally got rid of your ankle monitor, gaining some freedom.

You applied for a few jobs in the hope to save enough money to move out again, even before you were scheduled to relocate to New York to attend your photography course, while your mother was busy shopping for Award Season dresses with your sister who was keen to be a third wheel at the Golden Globes and Oscars that year.

"Why do you even want to go to these award shows with them? I mean, don't you feel weird about it?" you questioned your twin-sister Cliona one evening, as the two of you sat together in the kitchen, eating leftover pizza and chatting, while your mother was putting Sadie to bed. 

"Because it is fantastic for networking," she replied, chewing on a slice of pizza. "You never know who might be there and, besides, these events are great opportunities to show off," she added smugly, throwing a smug smile at you.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes and ignore her comment, allowing her to talk some more. Cliona had always been more interested in your stepfather's status than you had and, although you sometimes wished that you didn't care about her attitude towards his fame, it bothered you a lot lately.

In recent days, you had become particularly moody and being in a house with her and your mother, often alone, didn't help your nerves, despite the fact that you did love them.

On top of that, you had tried to push Cillian out of your head, telling yourself that what had happened between you two was a mistake and nothing more, but try as you might, you couldn't forget it.

You couldn't forget the way he had touched you, made love to you, or even just looked at you. You had never felt so desired in your life and although it scared you, it also excited you beyond belief.

It was a push-pull experience that made you yearn for his presence while, at the same time, you wanted things to go back to the way there were before, when you didn't have these feelings of guilt and shame constantly lingering over you when your mother and twin-sister were around.

"So you aren't coming to any of the awards then?" Cliona repeated her previous question with a pout, which mad you realise that, this entire time, when you were thinking about Cillian, she had been talking to you.

"W-what?" you said, snapping out of your daze. "Um, no, I won't be attending any of the awards shows with you guys. It's not for me and I have too much on my plate at the moment," you lied, even though you had no job and not much to do, other than wait for your course to start.

Cliona shrugged. "Suit yourself," she said, as if implying that you were missing out on a great opportunity, before finishing off her slice of pizza and standing up from her chair.

"Well, I'm heading to bed. See you tomorrow," she added, before walking out of the kitchen and leaving you alone in your thoughts.

You sighed and leaned back in your chair, staring out the window just as your phone  beeped, signaling a new text message. 

"You've got the job!" was the message written in big bold letters on the screen from the nice bartender at a local establishment to which a friend had introduced you to the day before. 

Excitement bubbled inside of you, and your troubles seemed to vanish at the sight of the single message. You were absolutely broke , so this opportunity couldn't have come at a better time. You would be able to start working within the next few days, which provided a sense of financial security and a diversion from the drama you had created with Cillian.

Cillian, himself, arrived back home later that week just as you were about to head out for your first shift at the bar.

You were dressed casually in a pair of dark jeans, a fitted grey shirt and your hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail.

"Hey," you greeted Cillian as he walked through the door, looking exhausted but happy to see you, his eyes lighting up as they met yours.

"Hey," he replied, retaining his distance which, in your opinion, made this encounter somewhat awkward.

Luckily for you though, you were an expert in the art of small talk and, even though you hadn't mastered it, your tone sounded light and casual.

"How was your flight?" you asked, as he placed his luggage down and unzipped his jacket.

"Long," Cillian replied with a weary sigh before his eyes met yours again.

The connection was undeniable, burning with a passion that refused to quell. But he had his integrity, and perhaps that was something he would never compromise. Not even for you.

"Where are you off to?"  Cillian inquired, his gaze falling on your outfit while you were fidgeting with the house keys.

"Oh, I've got a job now ," you informed him cheerfully, attempting to keep your tone light while trying to overcome the fluttering feelings in your chest.

"Where at?" Cillian asked, raising an eyebrow, and you wanted to smile at his enthusiasm, but you held back, taking a deep breath instead.

"Just a bar, in town. It's called O'Rielly's and is really nothing special," you lied, trying to downplay the significance of this job, but Cillian could see right through it.

"That's great though," he said with a warm smile, making your heart flutter uncontrollably. "Well done," he told you, knowing how you wanted to pay your own way. 

"Thanks. I really needed this. I was starting to feel like a burden around here," you muttered, not meaning to make the conversation heavy.

Cillian narrowed his gaze upon hearing that, sensing there was something more to your statement.

"You're not a burden, Y/N, and you never have been," he asserted, closing the distance between you, his hands resting on your upper arms reassuringly.

"Oh, I am sure my mother would disagree with you right now," you chuckled, not wanting to tell him about the many fights you had with her in recent days, all because you felt like a leech living in her house. "But listen, I really have to go. My shift starts at six," you said, zipping your jacket closed and slinging your bag over your shoulder.

"Do you want me to drive you?" Cillian offered, breaking through your thoughts.

For a brief moment, you imagined what it would be like to spend a few more minutes alone with him in the car. But you quickly shook off that dangerous thought.

"Thanks, but I can take the bus," you said, smiling weakly. "Despite, you just got off a six-hour flight,"  you added.

Cillian opened his mouth to protest, but you cut him off. "No, really. I've got this," you insisted, already moving towards the door.

Cillian sighed, looking like he wanted to say more, but he seemed to think better of it. "Alright, but call me when you get off work. I will pick you up. You shouldn't take the bus that late," he said, his voice firm.

You paused and looked back at him. "You worry too much,"  you said, but there was a small smile on your faces as you said it since you found his concern heartwarming.

"Only because I care," he replied with a warm smile before he allowed you to leave.

When you arrived at the bar for your shift, you found it bustling with people, eager to escape their daily routine. You took a deep breath to steady your nerves and walked behind the bar, where the manager was waiting for you.

"Ah, Y/N! It's good to see you. Here, put this on," she said, handing you a shirt. "I'll show you the ropes."

The first few hours flew by quickly, with you learning the ins and outs of the bar, how to make drinks, take orders, and keep the customers happy.

The pace was fast but exciting, and you found yourself enjoying the buzz around you, serving drinks, laughing with the patrons and relishing in the anonymity and the freedom that came with working at a separate place of employment.

When things started to slow down, you checked the time on your phone and saw it was already after midnight. There was no way Cillian would still be up, you thought to yourself, as you dried your hands on your apron and walked towards the front of the bar but, just as you were about to bring up the bus schedule again, your phone buzzed with a new message.

"I'm still picking you up," it read, causing your heart to skip a beat.

You smiled to yourself, thankful for his concern and hit 'Reply,' typing out a quick thanks and an estimated time for the end of your shift. You knew that there was still some cleaning up to do, which would take about thirty minutes or more.

You put your phone back into your apron’s pocket and got to work, finishing up as quickly as possible and the friendly bar manager, Jeremy, offered you a drink on the house after you finished lifting up all the chairs.

"You did extremely well today," he praised, touching your shoulder. "And thanks for taking the shift last minute, you really saved me," he smiled, noting that you weren't actually meant to start until the week after. 

"I am glad I could help," you responded before noticing him flirting a little with you.

"I enjoyed working with you tonight Y/N. I am serious," Jeremy added with a wink, making you blush slightly and laugh off his compliment. "And you can have as many shifts as you want," he went on to say, which caught you off-guard, since most places usually put new hires on a light schedule.

"Oh, really?" you asked, trying to hide your surprise. "I mean, that sounds good," you added hastily, before taking another sip of your drink.

"Absolutely. I would love to have you on the team, you are a star already," Jeremy complimented you again, causing your face to flush with heat.

You chuckled nervously and glanced down at your phone, checking the time, and saw a message from Cillian: "I will be there in a minute," it read, making you plan your exit. 

"I, uhm, I gotta go now if that's okay?" you  said shyly, biting your lip as you met Jeremy's gaze. His eyes lingered on your lips for a moment longer than necessary before he looked away, just as Cillian reluctantly pushed open the door to the bar, looking straight at the two of you.

"We are closed," Jeremy announced, trying to sound imposing, but you interrupted him.

"It's okay. He is just...uhm...picking me up," you stammered, shuffling your feet nervously as you broke eye contact with Jeremy. "He won't let me take the bus and now this is all really awkward," you then blurted out, causing Cillian to raise an eyebrow.

"I am Cillian. Y/N's..." Cillian paused before saying the word. "Stepfather," he clarified hesitantly, offering a polite smile and his hand to Jeremy for a handshake. There was a slight tension in the air as Jeremy hesitantly shook Cillian's hand, eyeing him carefully, before finally giving you a nod. 

"Oh, right. Of course," Jeremy said, seeming to understand that there was nothing more to this interaction, which made you feel more at ease. 

"I'll just...uhm...go and get my things from the back then," you muttered nervously before quickly scurrying towards the back room to collect your belongings.

You could feel both Cillian's and Jeremy's eyes on you as you gathered your coat and bag, your heart hammering away in your chest.

You had never been very good at hiding your emotions, and it seemed that both men had picked up on you feeling somewhat out of place right now. 

"Okay, I'm ready," you eventually said, brushing a lock of hair out of your face as you walked back out to the front of the bar and, after Jeremy thanked you for your hard work, you followed Cillian out of the door, your heart still racing.

"You know you really didn't have to stay up for me," you said as Cillian opened the car door for you.

"I know. But I wanted to make sure you got home safely. Besides, I was still up anyway," he replied, his tone serious.

As you sat next to him in his car, you couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious about Jeremy and how he had been looking at you throughout the night and, it was also something that Cillian had picked upon. 

"Everything okay?" Cillian asked, seeming to sense your discomfort.

"Yeah, everything's fine," you lied, forcing a smile.

"I can see the bar manager has already taken a liking in you," Cillian said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

"Yeah, I think, maybe, he has," you confirmed, looking out of the window of the car as Cillian expertly drove through the quiet streets of the city.

"Then again, he works in a bar. I am sure he has taken a liking to many women who have worked there," Cillian replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

You remained silent for a moment, trying to decipher his intent, but you chose not to press further at that moment.

"Are you jealous?"  you blurted out, immediately regretting the words as soon as they left your lips. It was the last thing you wanted to imply, given the circumstances.

Cillian glanced at you and raised an eyebrow, causing you to quickly backtrack.

"I mean, not that you have any reason to be, of course. I am just your stepdaughter after all," you added hastily, your cheeks flushed as you watched Cillian's expression soften.

"No, I'm not jealous," he replied softly. "I am just concerned about you, that's all. I don't want to see you getting hurt."

"Sure, we will leave at that," you nodded, understanding his concern, and looked away, embarrassed that you had even brought it up.

The rest of the car ride was quiet, with neither of you speaking. But, despite the silence, the tension between you two was palpable. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, and your heartbeat quickened as you tried to ignore the thoughts and images that swirled in your mind.

The memories of the connection you shared, the intimacy you both had experienced, and the desire that still lingered, seemed to be clouding your judgement, and you couldn't help but long for that closeness again.

The car pulled up outside the house, and Cillian turned off the engine, allowing the silence to envelop you. He shifted in his seat as he glanced at you, his gaze piercing through the darkness. You could sense that he was trying to read your thoughts, but you couldn't find the words to explain what was going on in your head.

Your mind was a whirlwind of emotions, conflicting desires, and unspoken truths that clashed together, creating turbulence you were struggling to navigate.

"We should go inside and get some rest. It's late," you  said softly, your eyes meeting Cillian's. There was a lingering tension between you both, as if his gaze could combust the emotions resparking within you.

"Yeah," Cillian  replied after a moment, his voice almost a whisper. He let out a long breath before he opened his car door, stepping out on the pavement.

Only after he had fully closed the car door did you realize that you had been holding your breath. It was then that you released it in a sigh, feeling strangely disappointed that the night had ended like this, with awkwardness and silence and no connection between you both, except the remembered one.

You quickly exited his car, feeling embarrassed at how much your feelings for him had control over you at times, now that he was ignoring them too.

"Goodnight, Y/N," Cillian muttered, almost under his breath after you both stepped inside, as if he was too afraid to say it any louder.

You turned to him, your eyes wide with surprised and confusion, before you replied with a hoarse "Goodnight" and walking up the stairs, leaving Cillian to stand alone in the hallway. 

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred @blondie-22

[matchpointfaist]

masterlist ⋆. 𐙚 ˚

now taking requests for....

mike faist - art donaldson, dodge mason, roger sharpe, riff lorton, danny lyon, connor murphy

sam claflin - alex stewart, finnick odair, billy dunne, alistair ryle

misc- jace herondale, cardan greenbriar, sam winchester

♡ indicates smut

art donaldson ᯓ★

tis the damn season ♡

common tongue ♡

twilight ♡

it will come back ♡

college best friend! art

college best friend! art part two

college best friend! art part three ♡

dilf! art ♡

dilf! art part two

dilf! art part three ♡

guilty pleasure (innocent! art x flirty reader) ♡

would you save me? (innocent! art x flirty reader) ♡

a love like religion (innocent! art part three) ♡

pretty piece of flesh (innocent! art part four) ♡

couldn't make it any harder

ceo! art ♡

coach! art ♡

sugar daddy! art ♡

sugar daddy! art intro

art x twin peaks reader♡

anobrain

loser! art

dilf! art gets you pregnant ♡

art x physical therapist! reader ♡

art x physical therapist! reader part two ♡

super rich kids ♡

hunger games art ♡

dilf art x virgin! reader ♡

dodge mason 𐚁⊹₊ ⋆

reckless driving ♡

valentines day with dodge ♡

roger sharpe ⋆｡°✩

rhiannon ♡

romancing! ♡

riff lorton ⊹₊⟡⋆

why do fools fall in love?

rich girl reader part two

riff x teacher! reader

riff x rich girl reader blurb

connor murphy ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

best friend! connor

best friend! connor part ii

connor x new girl! reader

danny lyon ★

danny x nurse reader ♡

billy dunne ⊹₊⟡⋆

you're no good either ♡

sam winchester ˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

my angel

picture you part one

picture you part two ♡

jace herondale ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

valentine's day with jace ♡

knight! jace x princess! reader ♡

cardan greenbriar ⛧♡

the high king of elfhame ♡

[star-wrote]

ANYFING WITH FLUFFY MUEPHY MACMANUS PLES PLES PLES PLES LMAOOO

Mo Stór

ao3 link

Characters: Murphy MacManus x Fem!Reader

A/N: loving the energy in this request, anon. if you had a tail, it would be wagging LMAO. i’m sorry this took AGES, but i hope you enjoy anyway! <3

Warnings: cussing, bad irish accent writing, fluff, domestic bliss, seriously it’s so fluffy

Word Count: 817

Dating Murphy MacManus isn’t the easiest thing in the world. In fact, if you were to ask his brother, he’d say something along the lines of “Dunno how ya put up with us being vigilantes and shit, lass.”

You and Murphy have had countless talks about him and his brother’s “hobby,” half of them ending in you begging to join him. He would never let you, it’s too dangerous.

So you work your job to support yourself and the boys. You don’t mind it really, they treat you like their queen. Usually, they’re home when you get off work. Walking in to a warm dinner, even if it was a frozen pizza, was a feeling you wish for every good person on earth.

Other nights, like tonight, the brothers wouldn’t be home. You couldn’t help the feeling of anxiety that went to that pit in your stomach. You rush to the note on the refrigerator, ripping it from the magnet that also held up a picture of you and Murphy kissing. Both the picture and the magnet fell off the fridge as you read the note.

“Went to grab Chinese takeaway for dinner. Be back soon x.”

You sighed in relief as you read Murphy’s chicken scratch handwriting. You remembered the magnet and picture that fell, and quickly retrieved them off of the floor. You smiled as you pinned the picture back to the fridge and silently thanked Connor for capturing that moment on camera.

It had been a long night at McGinty’s, and Doc had kept the rounds coming. You had somehow convinced Murphy to dance with you; it must have been the David Bowie song playing. At the end of the song, he dipped you down like you were in some kind of romance movie, and gave you one of many kisses that you two have shared in that bar. Once he heard the click of the camera, he gently dropped you to the floor and shoved his brother, trying to grab the camera. You laughed on the bar floor as he successfully got the camera and pocketed it. He must not have been too upset about the picture since he printed it out the next day.

You heard the door open while you were reminiscing, interrupted by the familiar sound of the twins bickering; this time about chopsticks.

Connor calls your name as he shuts the door. “Are ya gonna use chopsticks?”

You smile as Murphy rolls his eyes and sets the food down on the table. He makes his way over to you and kisses your cheek.

“Yeah, of course,” you answer Connor, “are you?”

He pulls two wrapped pairs of chopsticks out of his pocket and hands you one. “Of course! Murph here wouldn’t let me grab three because he doesn’t know how to use them.”

You look at Murphy who rolls his eyes again as he grabs your hips to slide past you and take a fork from the drawers. He grumbles out “I’m fuckin’ Irish, don’t need to know how, eejit.”

You giggle as you hug him from behind. “I’m pretty sure the Irish didn’t invent the fork either, Murphy.”

He tried to frown, but one side of his mouth lifted. “Are we gonna eat this shite or not?”

After dinner and the nightly movie, you and Murphy retired to your shared bedroom. You were glad that the movie finished because it was Connor’s night to pick, and he picked the worst possible movie on earth, as usual.

You had both changed into your sleep clothes, and brushed your teeth together, smiling at each other in the mirror.

This was your favorite part of the day. You and Murphy got to cuddle in bed and just look at each other. His hand was on your cheek and his thumb was smoothing out your skin.

“Mo stór.” Murphy interrupts the silence.

You smile at him. “What’s that?”

“My darling.”

You kiss his forehead. “Yeah, I am.”

He smiles and kisses your lips gently.

You rest your forehead on his. “For a second I thought you were asking me to marry you or something.”

Without hesitation, he answers, “I would.”

You bring your head up from the pillow and lift your eyebrows in surprise at him.

He notices the shock on your face and scrambles to say something else. “I mean I don’t have a ring for you or anything. But I would get one. I just know that God sent you to me. I may be a saint, but you’re an angel, lass.”

He grabs your hand and kisses the top of it.

“It seems like it would be a pretty divine marriage if you ask me.”

You feel a tear fall from your eye. “Oh my god.”

He smirks as he wipes the tear from your face and chides, “Lord’s name, love.”

You giggle and then nod.

“Let’s do it.”

[doublesilly]

Divorce Quartet - Web Weave

made for @aliteral-ghost as part of @mcytblrholidayexchange

sources undercut

Part 1 (Martyn & Cleo):

Green Vision - Werner Drewes // What about “us” though - @/obeliskandmetronome // White Ferrari lyrics - Frank Ocean // Battles of the Sexes: Duels between Women and Men in 1400s Fechtbücher - Hans Talhoffer // You never fail to wipe the smile off my face - @/holisticcommentcollection // Vase with bleeding hearts - John Bennett // Push to Reject - @/screenshotsofdespair // The Future is a Foreign Land lyrics - Ghost // Sculptuur de Rejected Lover - Leopold Harze // i fear only one person has truly ever understood me and i fucking hate the guy - @/uhhitsjoe // OBLIVIOUS lyrics - The Strokes // "it still hurts" bandaid - @/riottsrph // Make me the subject of your desire - @/grlofswords // Scissors - Bonnie Marie Smith // Orange texture - Unknown // Absolute Rejection - @/screenshotsofdespair //Bound! - @/cheerioskid // strangles you with the red thread tying us together - @/alleycatboy // Bleeding heart (Love's doubts and fears) - @/snowrassa // Kiss with a Fist lyrics - Florence + The Machine // Unfucktheworld lyrics - Angel Olsen // IFHY lyrics - Tyler, The Creator // Excerpt from "All My Mothers" - Joanna Glenn via @/mournfulroses

Part 2 (Scott & Cleo):

a plane flying in the sky at sunset - Shubhankar Sharma // Sheet with blue and orange floral pattern - Anonymous // Two of cups card - Anna Surgan // A World Alone lyrics - Lorde // 'It Might Have Been' - Ella Wheeler Wilcox // Double ring - Marcus and Co. // Puppet Show - Reginald Pollack // social climb lyrics - I DON'T KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME // Friendship between Ephelia and Ardelia - Anne Finch // Victorian Clasped Hand Seal - via @/Moonscuriousitems // Scott & Cleo art - @/elven-kisses // Heart shaped earrings - @/snailspng // Twin Stars - Luis Falero // Gold finger ring // Yellow Rose // BIRDS OF A FEATHER lyrics - Billie Eilish // Till Forever Falls Apart lyrics - Ashe & FINNEAS // Team lyrics - Lorde // Rainbow Bridge - Werner Drewes // Heart Axe - @/psychoactivism (deactivated) // Gold rose wax seal - @/adjpngs // the perfect pair lyrics - Beabadoobee

Part 3 (Scott & Pearl):

Blue paper texture - Unknown // This Hurts lyrics - Mindless Self Indulgence // Vintage ring - @/snailspng // Friendship - Daniel Henderson // (The Artist and the Model, portfolio) Confrontation Across Two Shadows - Michael Mazur // Harm crochet block - @/uglyfruit // Double-bladed Processional Axe // Ruby Blue lyrics - Róisín Murphy // Share Pain - @/screenshotsofdespair // "Erasing Soulmate" - @/screenshotsofdespair // Beast - @/snailspng // Possibility lyrics - Lykke Li // The Devil’s Tower from Johnstons - Thomas Moran // Accepted -> Abandoned - @/screenshotsofdespair // Hate - @/literaryvein-reblogs // Red paste paper book cover - Anonymous // Transverse section of a human heart - @/snailspng // Unknown - @/letsbelonelytogetherr // You weren’t chosen. - @/screenshotsofdespair // Wolf locket - @/cherishedpngs // Curiosities - Bonnie Marie Smith // Red Red Red Red Animation - @/cocoabats // Turn it off lyrics - Paramore // The Garden lyrics - The Crane Wives

[girlfailureboylosercom]

Ex-literature Student Hyperfixates on Haikyuu Characters and launches off their rocker

the title says everything.

i got too silly trying to plan a hrhs yuri au fic and ended up deciding to do an analysis on the Kamomedai team (its mostly hrhs. my bad guys)

I'll be analysing volumes 38-41 in this post!! If I miss out on certain panels or misinterpret moments, that's my bad. Most of the panels I'll be putting here are taken irl, so they might not be that easy to read 😞🙇

This is also an opportunity for me to dissect my brain and figure out why I took a liking to these characters. I LOVE ANALYSIS and genuinely wish there was more over Haikyuu, especially on themes and characters and their philosophies!

so, what will I be focusing on in this analysis?

Kamomedai's philosophy, importance + message

Hirugami Sāchiro and

Hoshiumi Kōrai's significance in the story of Haikyuu

Coach Murphy's connection to HRHS' philosophies

If there are any topics I've failed to list here but have explored in this analysis, please understand that I was simply too excited to write and may have forgotten to list them here!

Word Count (excluding titles): 4838

Hirugami Sachiro

His Backstory

of course, whenever Sachiro is brought up, his backstory is the first thing that automatically pops into mind. It's tragic but even worse, it's realistic. It stuck with me the first time I read the entire manga, but I couldn't figure out why. I knew it resonated with me, reminding me of the several burnouts I witnessed in multiple kids around me at school, but that reasoning wasn't enough. So I supposed that pushed me to write this analysis haha!

From these panels, it's safe to say that Sachiro did have love and passion for the sport. He practically grew up with it- his parents and siblings played it, and they eventually went down the path of going pro. It would be no surprise that he was bound to follow in their footsteps. It was natural. There's no confirmation and this is more like a theory/headcanon, yet I believe that his family did have these expectations for him or placed pressure on Sachiro to play volleyball, whether or not they intentionally meant to. When you grow up with a family of star athletes who all did the same sport, why would you do something different? In the manga, Hirugami states that if he just 'straight up quit' volleyball there and then, there would be a whole set of problems. We could assume that maybe their coach would be upset, but this could be another hint that his family would not take the news that well. Perhaps his parents would be the more judging ones. Since he has all of these expectations and the pressure to improve and earn respect and acknowledgement from his family, it wasn't a surprise that this mindset would eventually turn sour and cause Sachiro to crash. We even have some supporting evidence for this, and it (strangely) comes from Atsumu.

Atsumu states that he knew Hirugami was always this good, but the way he played was 'like a man possessed', and watching him gave Atsumu the impression that he was on edge at all times. In the panel that displays Atsumu's recollection of his original impression of (middle school) Hirugami, we can see that the Miya Twins are completely fine compared to Hirugami who is panting like a dog, tired out and not looking in top shape. I don't think it's a far-fetched assumption to say that Hirugami was just forcing himself to play the sport, to keep on going and giving his all despite his body protesting, trying to tell him that he's reached his limit. But the mind can be stubborn and Hirugami's mind was also dead set on goalless/vague improvement; He wants to build more muscle, not let anyone outdo him, and not get left behind- all these goals don't have a proper end and that's harmful. Of course he's going to force himself to continue whether or not his body gets the rest it deserves. To him, there's no such thing as a rest day. Hirugami doesn't believe he gets to rest until he finally achieves or stops chasing the improvement he desires. But there's no end to the goals he wants to achieve. If Hoshiumi didn't stop him, how long would've Hirugami been aimlessly chasing his own demise?

Hoshiumi & Hirugami's Middle School Relationship (sub-category of Hirugami's backstory)

I think that Hoshiumi and Hirugami have quite similar philosophies! Both are centered around hard work and the need to improve, to become better. However, here's the difference: Hoshiumi's more accepting, acknowledging the harsh reality that he's weak. There are stronger people out there, which is why he NEEDS to be competitive and strive for improvement in order to avoid lagging behind his competition. If Hoshiumi makes any mistakes, he most likely would take it as a learning opportunity and eventually shrug it off. He already knows he gives everything his all, so any mistakes he encounters are not an outcome of laziness or lack of effort. On the other hand, Hirugami's is more degrading. It's harsher, taking any mistake he makes and echoing it back at him in a harmful manner, telling him that he could've- should've done better, that there were ways Hirugami could've gotten that last point, that the smallest mistake he made would affect the way he and his team played. There's no room for error because if there is, then there's something wrong with him. And because of their difference in philosophies, I believe that led them to interact when Sachiro finally crumbles and hurts himself.

While re-reading Sachiro's backstory, I got the impression that he and Hoshiumi barely interacted during their middle school days, so I asked myself: why would Sachiro tell Hoshiumi, an all-time bench warmer, that he doesn't like volleyball? The few times we've seen middle school Hoshiumi and Hirugami interact besides the self-harm scene were they only getting brief glimpses of one another. The panel above shows Hirugami briefly noticing Hoshiumi, acknowledging that he's still practising this late at night, then shrugging it off and walking back to the canteen. Well, Hoshiumi just helped him out of a daze during a difficult moment. Hirugami's head is now above the deep, dark water called his thoughts, so he's most likely disorientated. He's shaken up by the pain in his knuckles that are finally alerting his senses and at the same time, he's settled on a simple conclusion: He doesn't like volleyball anymore. And in that moment of silent anguish, who else could he let out this confession to? Any walls Hirugami has put up during this time are now knocked down by raw vulnerability. He needs to speak and ground himself, to let his mind finally acknowledge that he doesn't want to continue playing volleyball like this. And it just so happens that Hoshiumi is also there to hear this statement. There is no hesitation in Hoshiumi, not when he offers a tissue for Sachiro to clean up his bloodied hands, not when he listens to Hirugami's sudden, sensitive confession and simply asks, "Okay. Why don't you quit?", a question that Hirugami didn't consider nor thought possible before. He doesn't coddle but offers Sachiro advice that he could take or leave behind. Korai doesn't forcefully press the tissue packet into Sachiro's hands, nor continues to show his discomfort at the sight of the other boy's wounds despite the response being natural. His steadiness and composure are reassuring, allowing Hirugami to take his time to calm down and process his thoughts and the advice that Hoshiumi has given him. Also, Hoshiumi's advice is structured more like a conversation, if that makes sense. Hoshiumi is straightforward and honest and his words hold no flattery when he points out Hirugami's strengths, something that he can't achieve as easily as the other could. He's not making a big deal out of the situation and is staying calm yet helpful, which is essential. Because of his approach and advice, Hoshiumi unknowingly helps to give Hirugami an entirely new perspective, when he probably intended to only stop him from harming himself even further. (I also believe that Hirugami revealed this thought to Hoshiumi because sometimes, people find it easier to talk to strangers than the family or friends that they are close to.)

Little note: I love how supportive HiruHoshi are of one another!! Throughout the manga, we can see how close they are; Hoshiumi has always been there for Hirugami, ever since they first properly interacted in middle school until the end of their high school days. And of course, during adulthood. Hirugami visibly reciprocates this by taking the time to understand Hoshiumi, learning his story and other things like his thought process and quirks in volleyball.

Sachiro's View on Volleyball

One of the special arts that included Hirugami called him 'dispassionate' and I found that very interesting. It highlights his whole stance on volleyball; He likes it, but after all that he's been through, Hirugami would rather leave it behind and watch from the sidelines. He likes it, but he's not going to get overwhelmed by it again, unlike the other Kamomedai members or characters in Haikyuu. This time, Hirugami has set the goal of playing volleyball only until the end of high school. Knowing that he will get to quit after all these years, that these long periods of burnout will finally come to an end, its a relief to him. Hirugami still has a love for volleyball, but he understands that his relationship with the sport will not go back to the original, passionate state that it was before. And he's accepted that. He wants to play the sport without getting drowned in those overwhelming thoughts, he wants to have fun and not let volleyball take over his life. It doesn't matter if his talent in volleyball gets wasted. So what if it does? Hirugami knows what he wants in life now and wants to pursue it.

Dispassion can come off as someone having no passion, but that's not true; it's simply another meaning for being calm and not letting emotion take over logic.

Parallels with Asahi

Also noted that he and Asahi have some parallels! Not as much or obvious as Hinata and Hoshiumi, but it's there! Even the summary for Volume 40 acknowledges this!

Both characters have had a past with or are currently experiencing overthinking, along with how it affects their attitude and behaviour during games and or in general. Their arcs are connected to their mental health/well-being and how volleyball, the sport they play, are closely intertwined. However, Asahi's character does seem to be more centred around anxiety and how it can affect his gameplay and social life. Meanwhile, Sachiro's character has a more intense focus on the depression that can come from burnout and the effects it can develop. Yet both of these characters share the pressure of needing to be better, the need to live up to certain expectations that have been placed on them consciously or not. For Asahi, it's being the ace. And for Sachiro, it used to be, well, being good at volleyball.

Throughout the entire story of Haikyuu, we can note that Asahi is still trying to get over the overthinking that his anxiety has given him- he's struggling with the thoughts, which have been shown to affect his plays and his relationships. Asahi is learning to have more faith in his abilities, to go easier on himself and stop wallowing in his negativity. Meanwhile, Sachiro is shown to have already gotten past that. Has he made a full recovery? I don't think so. But he's shown to have not been affected by expectations anymore; He's over that burden and he knows that even if things get tough, volleyball is just a game. If he makes a mistake, Sachiro knows he won't die. It's a sport he enjoys, but there are simply other things in life that he has more passion for. He's just currently focusing on having fun with volleyball and trying his best.

Hoshiumi Kōrai

The Little Giant Legacy

If you care about either Hinata or Hoshiumi, you would know that the cause of their rivalry is the pursuit of the 'Little Giant' title. It makes sense after all! Both players are considered astoundingly short for their sport, have great jumping lengths and are considered amazing players by their team, just like the original Little Giant, Udai (who changed his mind on the pursuit of volleyball and went on to do manga instead). Personally, I believe that the moment their rivalry was officially solidified was actually at the end of Chapter 361 and the beginning of Chapter 362!

This panel was when Hoshiumi started to develop some respect for Hinata, recognising him as a potential rival he wanted to go against. But before it, when Hinata jumps and manages to spike the ball against Kamomedai's defence, Hoshiumi recalls a statement he made earlier, one he gave to the interviewer: "Yes, being short is a disadvantage...but it isn't a sign of incompetence."

And this panel establishes just how similar they are. They haven't heard one another's philosophies, yet they share it already. Gao acknowledges it with an expression of unease, and even Sachiro thinks, "He's just like Korai-kun." For this part, I will focus on these four people due to their connection with one another: Hinata, Hoshiumi, Udai and Coach Washijo. These four characters have experienced how height can be an extreme hurdle to overcome in sports.

According to Udai, the original 'Little Giant', he talks about how he knew he was the ace back in the day and how he deserved to feel confident over it. However, as Udai grew up, it is implied that the pressuring competition experienced at nationals most likely got to him. Udai assumed that if he trained himself even more, and focused on improving his skills and technique, it would be enough to keep up. But there was one thing he forgot to factor in: mentality. In fact, I think Udai does acknowledge this as well! It's why he politely shoots down Akiteru's comparison compliment of his and Hoshiumi's playstyle. Udai points out during the match that if he was in one of the situations that Hoshiumi was in, he would've failed at scoring as he would've spiked the ball down instead of back, a sign that the block intimidated him and made him retreat. "Hoshiumi has far better skill and decision-making than I ever did." Referring to Volume 41, Udai gives this mental narration while watching Hoshiumi set the ball to Hirugami: 'Know your weaknesses. Accept them. Forget the weapons you can't wield. Find all the ones you can...and carefully, persistently hone them all to a wicked point. That is what it means...to be a Little Giant.' Between these two pages, we can note that Udai is also eagerly watching Hoshiumi's play, with a determination that we can conclude from that if Udai had to pass down the title personally to anyone, he would most definitely choose Hoshiumi. If Hinata has Coach Washijo rooting for him, then Udai is the one who is silently applauding for Hoshiumi from the sidelines. (Fun fact! In Volume 45, in a small panel that features Udai, we can see him drawing his second manga series and the main character looks reallyyyy similar to Hoshiumi,,,)

All four characters know that they are weak when it comes to volleyball. However, Udai and Washijo are the ones to have been shown to crumble under that knowledge, accompanied by other factors that have made them resign from the court and pursue another path. Yet, that other path is still connected to volleyball. For Udai, it was making a manga based on it; For Coach Washijo, it was becoming a coach and only cultivating those with strong potential.

Coach Washijo has been burdened by the knowledge that his height restricted his ability to play so severely that it's firmly become a staple of his philosophy, that he'll only take in the strongest and biggest, keeping that mindset for 40 years. He only starts to change his mind when Hinata enters the scene; Not when Udai started playing and became Karasuno's ace years ago. Yet, Coach Washijo remains resistant to the idea that a player like Hinata or Hoshiumi can make it. (We don't see what he thinks about Hoshiumi, but I think his view would be similar to how he views Hinata, but not as personal 🤷) Over the time of Haikyuu- and by the time we reach the Kamomedai vs Karasuno match, Washijo's mindset has already begun shifting into a more positive view. He's started becoming more open and eager to the idea of a 'Little Giant', finally accepting that the harsh reality he faced back then is now possible to overcome. I believe that the match and the development of the fun rivalry between Hoshiumi and Hinata contribute to it, even if it isn't hinted at that often.

Turning back the focus onto Hoshiumi and Hinata, their rivalry is simply a beautiful thing to witness, especially considering the legacy both these players are chasing and discovering the respect they have for one another despite being one another's biggest competition. (also something something about the monster generation players on the Adlers team being the people who are the top three rivals Hinata has experienced in the entirety of the story,,,,yeah)

Referring to a panel from Volume 41 (again), Hoshiumi confesses to Hirugami that compared to other competitor teams, where he states that he simply wants to go through them no matter how good they were, Karasuno is one that he truly wants to beat. This intimidating statement sends a shiver up Hirugami's spine, which is something considering the handful of panels we get of him making a sadistic expression throughout this match. From this interaction between the two, we can interpret that up until this point, Hoshiumi did give his all to help his team win against several other teams to get to Nationals, but most likely didn't experience much competitive thrill during those matches and had to hype himself up by beating opponents who would underestimate him due to his smaller stature. Yet now, he finally gets the competition he desires. In Nationals, every team has been proven to be good. No one's planning to overestimate or underestimate anyone, there's simply no time for that. The time on the court is precious, meant to be used to win against whichever team is on the other side of the net. And like a cherry on top, there is someone like him. Someone gunning for the same thing he desired- Hoshiumi and Hinata's relationship can be classified under 'mirror characters'. Or in a more literary viewpoint, parallels. Typically, this trope is used to give the protagonist a rival, which is one of the reasons why Hoshiumi was created. Hoshiumi's role in the story is necessary as considering the other two main 'rivals' Hinata faces in the story (Ushijima as the Privileged Rival and Kageyama as the Main Rival, referring to TV Tropes), both of them seem to have more of the upper hand due to their height and long experience with getting the chance to play on the court consistently. With the presence of Hoshiumi, his character further drives the message that whether or not you have been given blessings from the start or have access to certain opportunities, working hard & smart along with having passion are also essential elements that you require in order to achieve the success you want.

"They come to us with solid, undeniable strength, and make us choose them."

The Need For Competition

Disclaimer: I do NOT have any siblings. So if I do accidentally miss-analyse anything in this section, I sincerely apologize 🙇 But yeah. Akitomo. Although we BARELY see him for the rest of the manga, he still has an essential role- if not, why do we need him in the first place? Furudante gives every character a purpose, whether or not they're major or minor. From Kōrai's backstory, we can see that he and his brother have your usual competitive sibling rivalry and whatnot. Akitomo bullies him and Kōrai retorts. But I think that this manga panel solidified Kōrai's need to be competitive and the desire to drive himself to improve in every area of volleyball possible (besides his mother's helpful advice that also plays a huge role in his philosophy).

This was the utter devastating realisation that he was so much weaker than Akitomo, despite Akitomo not knowing how the fuck to play volleyball. Kōrai learned that sport, dedicated and invested himself into it, yet here comes his brother, easily taking away the spotlight and spiking the ball without breaking a sweat. Just a jump and a hit, and boom. He could be replaced like that. Akitomo has always teased Kōrai over his height, yet this moment was most likely one of several that Hoshiumi experienced and solidified his understanding of how weak he was, and there were some things that he simply couldn't change from just effort and hard work alone. But with Asa's advice, Kōrai also understood that just because some doors were shut to him didn't mean the rest were. Some doors required a bit of prying to open, while some were already waiting to be discovered, and all Kōrai needed was to find and sharpen the required tools. Throughout the manga, there is a theme of competitiveness and how it affects the lives of the high school players on the court. We see how it affects them for the better and also the worse. We see how regardless of its positive or negative effects, these teenagers strive for improvement, to learn how to work with others as a team, and the list goes on. Hoshiumi is an example of a character who has a good balance of competitiveness and passion, which keeps him going in his pursuit of being good at volleyball. But in a moment of vulnerability (not defeat), he suddenly turns to Gao during the match and admits that there were times when he'd given up a little, starting to feel there were limits to the height he could reach. I believe that this statement was essential for Hoshiumi to admit out loud, as it further shows us that even a character as confident and competitive as him can eventually start to feel the pressure of keeping up and even almost let it get to him. But it seems that by the end of the manga, all the effort Hoshiumi has put into his own improvement in both body and mind, along with letting his competitiveness drive his passion instead of control him, he manages to achieve not only a spot on one of the best V1 League teams in Japan but also becomes a player on the Japan National Team for the Olympics. The seeds he's sown have finally grown and now Hoshiumi can reap his rewards as he rightfully deserves.

Someone once told me that competition was simply part of human nature. It can come in forms we never thought possible, but it's still there. Sports, academics, collections, status, and so on. It doesn't matter what form this competitiveness comes in, but it does matter how we use it in our lives. Do we let it control us and our desires in turn? Or do we use it as fuel to strive for improvement, to make a positive change in our lives and for others as well?

Kamomedai's Message

The Importance Of A Coach

Aaron Murphy is the coach for Kamomedai and according to the manga, his background and qualifications make him stand out amongst the range of other coaches we've seen in the story. He's a coach for one of Italy's Pro Series A leagues for years, took a Japan V2 League team and made them V1, and many kids on the volleyball team purely attended Kamomedai High just to play for him. He's a pro through and through- you'd expect him to be harsh, to have multiple well-detailed training schedules for his team, to push the limits of his players- similar to Coach Washijo, who's also a coach for a powerhouse school that is amazing at volleyball and set up to be one of the biggest antagonists Karasuno will ever face. But he's not! He seems to be a far cry from that. According to an onlooker (and referencing the manga again), people view him as a coach who doesn't seem to stand out too much, despite knowing he has an incredible record of being one. Meanwhile, Coach Washijo only looks for players with raw strength and power, the ability to intimidate and rule the court with their impressive height and skill and he will cut them off from their position if they refuse to listen to him. He's painfully harsh and it's evident in the way we've seen how his players react when he merely calls their names. Coach Washjio is intimidating and fierce, something you'd expect from a coach who has cultivated a team that's produced some of the most impressive players in the history of Haikyuu. Yet this treatment stems from his background, where Washijo was not allowed to play volleyball because of his height. We don't know a lick of Coach Murphy's backstory, but that's okay! It's unrequired to dissect his importance and why someone like him fits perfectly with Kamomedai's message and significance in the story, along with implied effects on Hirugami and Hoshiumi's philosophies.

Earlier, I stated that Udai gave up on volleyball because the pressure of intense competition got to him. It was good that he knew that improving his skills and technique could help him make up for his height, but Udai forgot about improving one thing that Coach Murphy had emphasised when training the Kamomedai team: Mindset. (Or more accurately, mental toughness) Through short moments in Volume 41, we can see that Coach Murphy focuses on mental training. Furudante could've shown us how intensely he trains Kamomedai, as he does mention that serving and blocking are the other two skills that he wants to train the team in (and Kamomedai is well-known for those two aspects), but we only get a brief panel showing us how sweaty and exhausted the whole team is. Yet, during that moment, the focus is on Coach Murphy talking about mindset, before directing the team to scenario practice. In the same volume, Akaashi recognizes that not one, not two, but the whole Kamomedai team is capable of doing task focus throughout the game, something that he barely managed to do in Volume 38. Akaashi is a character that is typically perceived as someone who is very calm and collected due to his analytical nature, but in Fukurodani matches we get to see that he doesn't have a good view of himself and tends to have negative thoughts that are similar to Asahi. A character like Akaashi noticing and making this connection further emphasizes how the players on Kamomedai are exceptional at their way of thinking, besides their serves and blocking.

We can see that his teachings have effects on his players and that's great! Reflecting on my earlier comparison between him and Coach Washijo, his methods are tough and intensive, but they're not excessive and seem to value both physical and mental health equally. Although Coach Murphy and Coach Washijo have years of experience training volleyball players, only one of them has experience looking over a professional team of athletes. Coach Murphy focuses on taking the players he has and helping them to hone their skills, instead of filtering through them and only picking ones who have the most potential. He looks at the cards he's dealt with and figures out how to make the best use of them. There's an air of professionalism with the way he handles and talks to his players, in my opinion- he's playful at times, but Coach Murphy's words are also grounding and firm. In a way, his method is very similar to gentle parenting (if that makes sense haha). His healthy way of teaching has affected his players, assisting them on their journey of improving their thinking in both their games and outside of the court. In Volume 41 and on the same page that the players of Kamomedai are briefly shown to be undergoing training, Coach Murphy's advice clearly addresses potential physical or mental obstacles players can face during a match- 'What happened was either a failure of your skill...or a failure of your decision-making process and mental control'. Murphy also states that they should make success a larger habit, before following up that a thought along the lines of "Oh, I'm having an off day today" isn't an excuse, unless the player themselves are sick or hurt. From this, it's implied that Coach Murphy is advising his players to pursue success but not let a negative mindset prevent them from doing so. Coach Murphy's second statement also supports the point that his training is gentle but firm by implying that he guides his players on how to properly reflect on their mistakes and spot areas of improvement before making the next step (which is solving the issue). Kamomedai's slogan is 'Habit Becomes Second Nature', which further supports the purpose and message of the team in the story of Haikyuu. Combined with Coach Murphy's teachings, it's no surprise that Kamomedai will not only grow as a team, but their players will also become people who persist despite undergoing harsh conditions. It's why they're closely linked to seagulls (and also why Hoshiumi resembles and is heavily based on one); To quote Coach Murphy, Kamome means 'seagull'. Seagulls can handle sea or sky, fair weather or foul, no matter what.

So, what is Kamomedai's purpose and message in the manga? From all the evidence I've gathered, I believe that the team exists to show the viewers and other characters in the story the importance of mindset besides skill, to carefully train yourself to persist in doing or achieving something despite obstacles in your way and that if something bad happens, it's not good to beat yourself up. Instead, careful reflection is required if you wish to improve and avoid making the same mistake again. Take care of yourself, both physically and mentally.

But then again, this analysis might be a bit biased as Kamomedai is one of my favourite teams and I've typed a crap-ton of words for this, phewwwwww. My brain is dry now. So if you have any other views on them, feel free to reply to this! I'm all up for discussion :3

[jenniferchecksbitch]

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ About me:

୨୧ Scorpio

୨୧ INFJ

୨୧ I'm German and Indian

୨୧ I love AHS, Girl Interrupted, The Virgin Suicides, (anything Sofia Coppola) old films and just films and shows in general, books, music, sitcoms, crystals, and girlblogging

୨୧ My favorite bands/singers are Fleetwood Mac, Lana Del Rey, Fiona Apple, Nirvana, Lady Gaga, The Smiths and Gwen Stefani

୨୧ My fav celebs are Kate Moss, Megan Fox, Lindsay Lohan, Emma Roberts, Taissa Farmiga, The Olsen Twins, Kirsten Dunst, Brittany Murphy, Stevie Nicks, Evan Peters, and Kurt Cobain

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

DNI - Racist, homophobic, fatphobic, sexist, or can't respect peoples religions/beliefs

TW-Has an ED trying to recover, may vent NOT ENCOURAGE

Feel free to ask any questions and I'm always looking for mutuals :)

[foldingfittedsheets]

O bringer of mattress wisdom, please may I ask a question? I'm sorry, I know this isn't actually your job to troubleshoot beds for all your followers. Long story short, need a second bed in the place (the number of people who crash here overnight without warning is getting out of hand) but I absolutely cannot afford a proper one, not even a twin. There's not much space so we're looking for which of my options is the least worst basically. I was thinking a futon so that it can serve as seating in the day and be folded out at night. That's much more affordable than any other option. Or a sofa bed that basically does the same thing but that would be second-hand. Is there a least terrible option here? I know you said murphy beds for space saving but I'm honestly not sure that's in my budget. We're aiming for one step above blanket on the floorboards here. Sorry. Love you.

I’d lean toward Facebook marketplace and Craigslist. If you’re patient and diligent there’s good shit that pops up for really cheap. Futons are my favorite cheap option.

Be prepared to do some cleaning but as someone who’s been at the poverty level for years you can go cheap if you’re patient and persistent.