#not til late next year but. y’know

[sternbagel]

Yet another personality shift I did not see coming as of 10 months ago

[morosis-haze]

Bakugou slowly moving you into his apartment

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Katsuki Bakugou x fem!black reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: a curse word I believe that’s it

❒ Bakugou who doesn’t really want to admit it, but he’s been getting used to your presence on those days you come over to the point he wants you to stay the night

❒ Bakugou who was asking or coming up with excuses on why you shouldn’t leave “There’s a few more episodes til we finish the season” You might as well stay on the couch cuddled up with him only a few more episodes until you could leave, right?

❒ It was all a plan leading to the “It’s late you should stay over tonight” He says it like he didn’t have you stay at his place until it was pitch black. How could you argue it was normal to not want your girlfriend out late there were a bunch of dangerous things that lurked the night, even if you’re also a pro hero who could defend yourself fine until you get home

❒ Bakugou who heard you talk about how multiple mornings and nights he is ruining your routine so he gets stuff you need

❒ It started small with him buying another toothbrush paired with a cover on it, it stood next to his in the cup. If you ask about it he’ll only say “So? You’re over here so damn much complaining about not having a toothbrush.” He acts as if you’re the one inviting yourself over

❒ “Maybe I’ll come over less.. y’know actually sleep in my apartment” You see his gaze flicker for a second before he grunts out “Well that’s not needed anymore” he moves onto a different topic ignoring the teasing smile on your face

❒ Bakugou kept slowly trying to move you in never mentioning it to you. He’d rather not deal with you being smug. That wasn’t gonna help though.

❒ Next time you come over to Bakugou's apartment you smell the scent of your favorite candle that said man had previously complained about when he was at your place “I thought you hated this scent” he looks at you as if he doesn’t know what you’re talking about “What scent?” You point to the recently burned-out candle “It grew on me” he rolls his eyes seeing you smile about it, but you can see the slight pull of one on his face

❒ You were both coming from a party a class 1a reunion if you will though there seems to be plenty of those as the students all got close over the years. Bakugou was the one who picked you up and was gonna drop you off home though he had different plans.

❒ You were busy about to post pictures of Mina and you along with the rest of the girls when you finally look up onto the road “Isn’t this the way to your apartment?” You glance at him as he continues “ ’m too tired to notice… you wanna just sleepover?”

❒ Maybe he really was tired and used to all the times of you staying over it was becoming an instinct. You were able to see the weary expression on his face and you didn’t wanna make him turn back around to drop you home so you’ll stay over…again

❒ Used to all the nights over here you go into one of his drawers planning on wearing something of his own but you notice everything in it is different it’s not a lot, but there were now a few clothes in your size and there were three bonnets in different colors and patterns

❒ “Katsuki are you changing your style?” He goes into his room raising an eyebrow at your question “You know I didn’t really take you for the bonnet kinda guy, especially one of this color but you do.” You picked up a patterned one a smug look on your face

❒ He huffs electing to ignore your comment too tired to be bothered he mutters “It’s for you” before he goes back into the bathroom letting you change in his room

❒ You get done changing and head to the bathroom knocking on the door before being allowed in you brush your teeth alongside him as you both finish up he nods to something on the counter you didn’t notice it was your favorite cleanser

❒ You both continue with your routines before heading to bed he seems to have a small smile on his face maybe because you aren’t complaining or seeing you look even slightly happier from his actions improved his mood

❒ The weeks continue you stay a little longer in the morning and you’re not as reluctant on staying the night. Bakugou gets more things for you, anything to make you more comfortable so maybe you could stay longer than last time

❒ Your favorite snacks were in his pantry, a duplicate of your lotion next to his so you no longer use up your travel-sized bottle from your purse, but what you weren’t expecting is the new silk pillowcases

❒ Bakugou may have overheard Mina talking about her new pillowcases and how they’re so amazing, as he listened it sounded like it could benefit you so he looked into it

❒ Sure he could’ve just given them to you for your own bedroom, but he used them in his even though the purpose of them being here is for you

❒ “I can’t tell if you’re getting bougie or if you genuinely wanted silk pillowcases..” you joked looking at the man as he climbed into his bed with you “They’re good for your hair and shit” “Good for my hair… you got silk pillowcases because of me?” He doesn’t look at you as he answers “There are other benefits it’s not just cause of you...”

❒ There goes a smug expression returning back to your face “Careful I might just stay here forever, Katsuki” You give him his goodnight kiss before laying down as he turns off the lights you hear him say “Maybe that’s what I want”

𝐀/𝐍: Back from the hiatus I’ll be redoing my taglist so if you want to join it fill out this form

[italiansteebie]

Love on Screen

Episode Six: The Finale, Episode Five, Four, Three, Two, One

Dustin couldn’t help but smile as he watched the couple’s official announcement video. It was sweet, and chaotic, and full of sarcasm, just like he thought it’d be. It was probably his fifth time watching it, but the way they interacted was so endearing it was almost addictive to watch.  

—

“Hey guys! So, you’ve probably seen the clip of me and this weirdo by now, kissing at Robin’s party, and. We’re here to dispel any rumors, okay. Eddie, do you want to take this next part?”

“Sure, so guys. I know this might be hard to believe but… Me and Steve we… Are actually a couple.”

“Yeah! A couple of besties! Ha, you thought.”

“Stephano! I thought I was the chaotic one in this relationship,”

“Nope, I’m taking it over,” and he punctuated it with a sharp cackle.

“No but seriously, yes. We are dating, almost a year now. We never really hid it, like on purpose? I think we just decided to never really make any type of announcement ‘til now, and to be completely honest… We probably wouldn’t have said anything if that clip hadn’t been spread around.”

Eddie swung an arm around Steve, “Not that we weren’t ever gonna say anything, it just didn’t seem all that important to us to have a real… announcement about it, y’know?”

They both finished their statements, sharing a sweet kiss, before turning off the camera. “I think that went well,” Steve said, smiling at Eddie. “Yeah, it did, Stevie.” Eddie responded, smacking a wet kiss against his cheek. Steve laughed, wiping away the spit that Eddie left on his cheek. “I love you so much.” 

“Yeah. I love you, too.” 

—  

Long story short, their coming out was taken well. 

In fact, most people were calling them the ‘best internet couple,’ which. Nancy and Robin were right there but… Hey. If that’s what the internet wants, then well, who’s to change it. (Nancy and Robin were pretty salty, but they do have to admit that their friends were pretty cute, although Steddie wasn’t as good of a ship name as Ronance, I mean come on. It’s one letter off Romance). 

They still played into the whole ‘best friends’ thing, because hey. It was pretty fuckin funny, at least in their opinion. The couples content didn’t really change, besides the fact that they sometimes kissed in front of the camera, or while Eddie was streaming, chat always responding with some variation of “the fuck dawg?” Because apparently Steve was not only Eddie’s boyfriend, but the whole internet's boyfriend, which did not make Eddie jealous. Not at all. (Well, maybe a little bit, but he didn’t really have to worry about that).  

— 

Three years had passed, and Eddie and Steve had only grown in popularity. They made videos about DIY seats made of jeans, and how it looked to rescue elderly street cats, and they had a podcast called “Eddie and Steve, not Adam and Eve,” on which they usually shared really weird tiktoks on. Either way, Dustin absolutely loved it. 

‘Corrodededdie is going live.’ Dustin looked at the notification in slight confusion. Eddie usually doesn’t go live on Saturdays, let alone this late at night. Oh well, he guesses he shouldn’t complain. He taps on the notification, confused once more once he opens the app to a blank screen. “What?” He tapped the screen a few times, staring at his phone. He sighed, maybe it was just a fluke, so he moved to put his phone down when he heard Eddie’s voice finally float through the speakers. “Hey shitheads.” His tone was somber, and that was highly unusual for Eddie. He felt a pit in his stomach, something was wrong, what if he and Steve broke up? Oh god no. 

Dustin looked at the screen, seeing the sad expression on Eddie’s face, shit, was he right? Did they actually break up?

“I have some bad news,” Dustin felt his breath hitch. “Me and Steve… Are no longer boyfriends.” Eddie finished sadly, letting his head hang low. It was silent for a few seconds, and Dustin felt absolutely destroyed. He couldn’t begin to imagine how they felt. “Oh god,” He whispered, looking down at the screen. 

“That’s because we’re husbands!” Dustin’s head snapped up at the sound of Steve’s voice cheering the good news, and what was a low energy stream turned into something no less than chaos. “Oh thank god,” he said out loud, furiously typing in the chat ‘u scared the shit out of me!’ He watched with a smile as Steve and Eddie shared a kiss and showed off their matching rings. 

Eddie laughed at the chat, “Sorry guys. It was Steve’s idea to prank y’all.” Stve smacked him on the shoulder, “it was not Edward! That is slander,” he said, tone exasperated. “Okay, okay. So it was my idea.” Eddie finally relented. Dustin was positively giddy, the two really were perfect for each other.

“We did vlog the proposal and the reception for you guys, it’ll be up right after the stream.” Steve said, grinning. He and Eddie answered a few questions from the chat before eventually ending the stream, Dustin waiting with baited breath for the vlogs to be released. As soon as they were, Dustin launched the video. It opened with Eddie pacing nervously and Robin, who was presumably behind the camera, was trying to calm him down. “Is it too soon?” “It’s been three years, Ed. It’s perfect, he’s gonna love it.” Robin reassured. The video cuts to Eddie and Steve on a beach, they were a bit far away, Dustin guesses Robin was trying to record the moment inconspicuously. He watched as Eddie led Steve to a quiet area, shells and rose petals arranged ever so. He could quietly hear Steve comment “This is so beautiful,” and watched as he spun, facing the beach. Eddie took this moment to get down on one knee, “Steve,” He began, Dustin spotted Nancy on the other side of Eddie, taking pictures, he guesses. Steve turned around, putting a hand over his mouth in shock. “I have loved you ever since I did that 12 hour stream and Dustybun04 recommended your channel, and I am so glad I listened to him.” Dustin paused the video briefly, giving himself time for a minor freak out at the fact that Eddie mentioned his name. “Steve,” Eddie grabbed his hand, “Will you marry me?” Dustin watched as Steve nodded, laughing slightly, tears streaming down his face. Eddie stood, pressing a kiss to his lips, both of them wearing matching smiles.

It was only a moment before the video continued. He watched with great amazement as Steve too, got down on one knee, still holding Eddie’s hand. Eddie was already saying yes, and laughing before Steve could even pull the ring box from his pocket. “Well. It’s obvious we both have amazing timing,” Steve said, giggling, tears still streaming down his face. “Eddie,” He began, sniffling, “You know I love you, I don’t want to live a life without you in it. Will you marry me?” Eddie laughed, “Uhh. Let me think about it,” He joked, before nodding enthusiastically, “Yes, of course. Please.” Steve slid the ring onto Eddie’s finger, before standing, pressing another kiss to Eddie’s lips. At this point, Dustin was also crying, and he only cried harder when Robin and Nancy popped out from their hiding places to congratulate the two. Dustin wiped his eyes, sighing fondly. 

After a few seconds of Robin and Nancy hugging Steve and Eddie, the video cut to what looked like an absolute rager which Dustin could only guess was their reception. The camera panned to Steve and Eddie both dressed to the nines in their suits, “We’re married now bitches!” Steve shouted, the crowd of people cheering in response. The rest of the video was comprised of Eddie and Steve having a blast at their wedding, Dustin watched, smile growing painful for how long he’s held it, they danced, they partied, and Steve even threw the bouquet.

The video faded before Steve and Eddie popped up on the screen. “We’re so happy we can share this moment with you guys, and in fact.” Steve grabbed Eddie’s hand, “It was all because of you guys that we met really, so. Thank you. From the bottom of our hearts.” Steve said, looking at Eddie like he hung the stars. “I’m usually not this sappy but we really do owe it to you guys that we even met. I don’t want to know a life without Steve, and y’all made it happen. I can only hope each and everyone of you meet your Steve.” 

The video ended with the two saying bye, and promises of regularly scheduled content as soon as they got back from their honeymoon. Dustin sat back in his desk chair. He couldn’t believe it had been three years since they started dating, Dustin had still been in high school. He felt like he grew up with them, and in a way, he kind of did. It was a wonderful moment to see the two have a happy ending, and it gave him hope for his own current relationship (of whom he met at Vidcon, in line for the corrodededdie merch line), he really thinks he found his Steve. And he couldn't be happier.

[joyfuladorable]

⭐️ any section of I'll Be Okay! that you're itching to speak on, i am all ears, ears for days.

Fanfic Writers: Director’s Cut

*twirls you around!!* HANNAHHH!!! 💜💜

Oh, man, so, as I made sure to point out in the Author’s Notes, this fic was inspired by This Art by my Buddy soggytommy on twt:

My writer brain was active at the time so I sat down and wrote a couple hundred words and DMed my buddy the wip, to which they responded by giving me more context about the scene: fighting the PDs, Leo accidentally blows something up, Mikey suffers the consequences.

So, the actual bts is that I Had been considering making this full angst with comfort at the end, but y’know!! I’m a sucker for levity during serious situations (which is probably why Mikey’s my fave, lol), so I tried to strike a balance there with Mikey kinda breaking the tension at multiple points, even with himself during the immediate aftermath of the explosion.

Also, I enjoy echoing/calling back to lines in my fics! The most obvious recurring one in this fic is the theme of Promises (Mikey promising he’ll be okay, Leo promising to tell him the end of the book, Mikey promising to tell someone immediately next time he gets badly injured). Don and Leo both tell each other at different points that they’ve done Enough. In Mikey’s POV, there’s Orders, with Mikey immediately following Leo’s command to Run and then later listening when he tells him to sleep. There’s also the Donnie SAINW trauma I slipped in, with both Leo and Mikey noticing he doesn’t react well upon seeing Mikey with arm injuries. Probably a few more but these are the clearest ones off the top of my head, lol!

Oh, and here are some of my favorite lines:

- “Aw, du’...” Mikey glares up at him. “Cli’ ‘angr.” << *points at my bestie* turtle who wants immediate gratification instead of suspense and probably loves to binge stories in one sitting

- A bookmark sticks out of it, tasseled with yarn and made up of layered and colorful construction paper and filled with childhood memories. A frail thing (a treasured gift) that has somehow survived all these years and unintentional moves. << *points again* baby Mikey made that :3

- The stabby thing needs to stay in his arm or else he’s off to join the Big Turtle in the Sky. << Personally the funniest joke I had Mikey think to himself next to the This Mission Blows line

- I know it’s Bad, he tells his brain as the pain whites out his vision. Stop yelling at me. I know. << *Mario falling in lava owowowow noise* if I ever actually draw this scene I apologize in advance

- Leo being up meant that they could stay up late, so Donnie would tinker or read and Raph would hog the Gameboy so Mikey would be resigned to reading comics. Sometimes, he’d slip under Leo’s blanket tent and try to read with him, asking him questions about the heroes and the villains and the story. << I wrote this Because of your (yes, You, Hannah) comment on Ch1 which made me think about Leo reading to his bros. Also, I totally drew a thing inspired by this because it’s The Most Precious Thing

- “Nope!” Mikey forces a leg to kick out of his blanket, missing Leo by a mile but sending the message loud and clear. “Y’know what? No blame game! No one wins in the blame game.” << *points for one last time* things I’ve actually done as a kid tucked in bed and a sibling says something stupid so I kicked out to let them know so

- And, he finally gets a hug from his dad, a carefully gentle thing from Splinter that he soaks in like the rays of the sun. << Actual Favorite Line that I will feel proud of til the end of time and also maybe draw at some point cuz Splinter Hug

[twilightmalachite]

Big Ocean - Repayment Fes of Thinking and Being Thought Of 3

Author: Nishioka Maiko (with Akira)

Characters: Hinata, Tetora

Translator: Mika Enstars

"Hm? Hinata-kun, isn’t there something kinda off ‘bout this event?"

Season: Winter

Location: In Front of Yumenosaki Academy Bulletin Board

The next day…

Tetora: Hmm~… What should I do for today’s training~?

First we warm up by running the perimeter of the academy… After that, we do stretches, and then muscle training…?

Hinata: Heey~, Tetsu-kun!

Tetora: Hm? Ahh, Hinata-kun! ‘Sup~☆

Hinata: ‘Sup~☆ Just happened to spot you. Thanks about lunch yesterday!

I’m lucky you called out to me—yaaa-aawwnnn…

Oof~… Sorry, sorry. That was a shameless yawn…

Tetora: Getting able to spend time with you was more than enough! If either of us needs help, we got each other’s backs! Though, Hinata-kun, you look pretty sleepy.

Hinata: Mm… Probably ‘cuz I was thinking about the live ‘til late at night~. I’ve been going to bed late…

Tetora: Live? Is 2wink planning a live?

Hinata: Yeah, but not through ES, for Repayment Fes. We started planning just yesterday.

Tetora: Ah, so that’s what it is. Amazing, yesterday at noon it was like you had no idea what to do. We also gotta get down to business!

Hinata: Hmm, though we haven’t done much more than exchange ideas about the stage and outfits.

We ended up having differing opinions about the stage.

Tetora: But it’s amazing you were able to get a start! When I get to work, I always have to crunch.

I have no free time to read manga like I usually do.

Hinata: Ah! That’s right! Manga, it was manga! There’s a manga that’s super popular I wanted to recommend to you. I’d been meaning to tell you about it.

Tetora: Whoa~, so it’s that good?

Hinata: Mhm! I read it after it was recommended to me, and it was lots more interesting than I expected, so I highly recommend it~!

I ended up buying the entire series. So if you wanna read it, feel free to borrow!

Tetora: Wow, I really wanna read it, if you’re praising it that much!

Hinata: Okie~☆ Then I’ll bring it over to your room tonight!

It sure is convenient to live in a dormitory together at times like this! I can give you a heavy stack of manga with no hassle! ♪

Tetora: I know right~… Hm?

Hinata: ? What’s up? You stopped in front of the bulletin board, did something catch your eye?

Tetora: Hm~, not exactly. It’s more like, I just realized I hadn’t checked out the school bulletin for a while.

‘Cuz y’know, with ES, all the news gets delivered through HoldHands, yeah?

Hinata: Honestly, I’m guilty of that too. I used to come here all the time looking for on-campus jobs, but now, I mainly work for ES…

Are there any good jobs up here?

Tetora: Hmm~… I probably would’ve wanted to do this if I were a first year.

Hinata: Ah, I agree! It looks fun, and seems like it’d be a hot topic. I’m sure people are scrambling to get that one!

Hmm? What is this one…

A bulletin from the student council. Concerning the White Chocolat Fes event…

Hm, so there’s an event called that. I’ve never heard of it, so it must be new.

Tetora: What’s the event about?

Hinata: It’s not written… Ah, details will come out later. I wonder if the student council will talk about it at the next school assembly or something?

Tetora: Talk ‘bout a blind bargain~. You can’t just announce the name and date of an event and call it good.

Hinata: Given how suddenly this event was made, I wonder if they’re just nowhere with their preparations?

Tetora: Hm? Hinata-kun, isn’t there something kinda off ‘bout this event?

Hinata: Huh?

Tetora: Look at this. The date of the event coincides with the date for the Repayment Fes.

Hinata: Ah, you’re right. Why would they do that? Does this mean the White Chocolat Fes will be held at the same time as the Repayment Fes?

Tetora: Ehh? Isn’t that way too much? You’ll just exhaust the participating idols at that point!

Hinata: Right~? So what’s going on? Maybe it’s a typo?

Tetora: …Wait. Could it be that there’s actually no Repayment Fes this year?

Hinata: Eh, H… How could there be none? There’s no way there wouldn’t be one, y’know… Right?

Tetora: I honestly don’t think that’s the case either, but…

Hinata: ……

Alright! I guess we’ll just have to go to the student council and ask them ourselves!

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[p-antomime]

s꩜ s꩜ft!

𖦹 minors don’t interact. ┊ wc: 4,2K.

𖦹 content: dom!hanma, unprotected sex, heavy breeding kink, impregnation, dub-con, praise kink, pinning, marking, overstimulation, mention of (m!) masturbation, cunniligus, squirting, implied fingering, pussy drunk!hanma + feral!hanma.

𖦹 pairings: mountain cat hybrid!hanma shūji x f!reader.

ᥫ᭡. request. | tokyo rev. masterlist! | taglist!

"I dunno... You've never been this far away, I'm afraid something might happen to you! When are you coming back?!", the cell phone was still attached to your ear and your head was starting to hurt from all the questions being asked.

And yet, a half nervous, half comforting giggle escaped your lips.

— Hina, seriously... you've called me every day since I got on the bus to go out of Tokyo and there are like... — You looked at the watch on one of your wrists that would soon have to be taken off as soon as you arrived at the fifth Subashiri station. — Less than twenty minutes ‘til I actually start climbing, you should have locked me in the house if you didn't want me to come to Fuji so badly.

"Girl, you were interested in this not even two years ago and you didn't even think it through before you went there, I’m just..."

— Worried, mhm, I know, you said it about two hundred times in just ten minutes of phone time. — You grumbled as you watched the huge perimeter of Mount Fuji get closer and closer while walking further and further. — And, finally, y’know that there’s no way I can become a good climber if I don't do just that: mountaineering. — Your tone came out as if you were mocking her concern, but in reality you were just a little annoyed that she was treating you like a child.

Although she was right that you hadn't thought through all the details of your trip to Fuji, that was exactly what was fun. To leave home without having a time or day to return, to be able to run and walk freely on the mountain with almost no worries because, although the metropolitan civilization of Japan was slightly removed for environmental preservation reasons, the place still had internal control and security.

That's what you valued: freedom. And mountaineering delivered this in the best and most natural way possible.

— Relax, Hina. — You spoke as soon as you arrived at the Subashiri station and looked around to see small food huts used to help people who were about to have a long day going up or down the mount. — As soon as I'm safely down, by the end of the day, and on my way home, I'll call you! But, if it gets too late, I'll try to find someplace to sleep around here and come home tomorrow for real, if that happens, I'll call you too, I won't leave you without information.

You heard Hinata babbling something to someone next to her on the other end of the line and didn't even bother to try to understand what it was as your feet walked to buy an energy drink.

— Besides... — Your voice rang out again as soon as the other girl was paying attention to the call again. — If I don't call you by, I don't know, seven o'clock at night, maybe a serial killer will have caug--

"Shut the fuck up! Or I'll come after you and make you come down off this mount in person, stop making those jokes, gosh!," a giggle escaped your lips, it was too easy to provoke her.

— Shush! Calm down! It's just a joke! Don't be so angry, stress is not good for you, y’know. — You heard her cursing at you on the other end of the call and, leaning the cell phone between the ear and shoulder, you called the girl on the hut with one hand. — Excuse me! Can I have one of those over there, the one with the green can? — Your hand pointed to the energy drink in one of the small refrigerators that didn't seem to be cleaned that often.

— 690 yen, miss. — The attendant said and you went to look for your wallet inside the backpack.

— Hold on, Hina, I'll be right with you!

While going through your backpack, you noticed the way the girl, who didn't look much older than you, looked you up and down a few times. As you faced her to hand over the money, she took a few seconds to put the energy drink in your hand and you raised a confused eyebrow.

— Are you going to the mount alone? — Immediately, you hung up with Hinata because you knew that maybe if that conversation was overheard by her, she would have a heart attack.

— Yes...? — You replied, taking the drink and going to put your wallet away again.

— Is this your first time?

— Here? — You returned the question and the girl shrugged. — Oh, is this the first time I've done this alone? Not really. — It was a lie, but the times you had climbed the mountain with a group of acquaintances, nothing had gone wrong.

— It's kinda dangerous for a girl, are you gonna stay here ‘til tonight? — You nodded, before opening a wry smile as you opened the can of booze.

— Anywhere is kind of dangerous for a girl, but anyway, I don't plan on staying too long on the hill, just a basic outgoing, y’know? — She nodded in agreement without saying anything else and went to put the money you handed her in the cash register.

— So, good luck! I hope to see ya coming by again before the food station closes. — You opened a small smile, watching Hinata call you again and put the cell phone in airplane mode so you wouldn't have to answer.

— Thank you!

It was your last direct interaction with a human being as you walked up the old steps to the main entrance that actually led to the wild part of Mount Fuji.

Some people were walking in the same direction as you and others were going in the opposite. Almost everybody was minding their own business, after all, everyone there was with the same purpose of trying to make the most of the direct contact with the best preserved environmental part of Japan.

There were more groups than single people and in the end, before reaching the highest point on the steps, you preferred to join one of the groups even if you were not going to follow the same path as them once the paths branched off up the hill. It was just a matter of initial safety.

Like it or not, the words of the girl at the food hut had sort of entered your head, but still, it wasn't as if you wanted to give up your adventure and besides, you were already halfway there! Giving up was not and never had been an option.

Eventually, your cell phone signal gradually disappeared. The transmission towers around Subashiri obviously did not have a great range until just beyond the paved floor of the different entrances to the Fuji base, and you did not even need to pick up your cell phone to see that. Logical thinking was enough.

Small leaves were crunching under the heavy soles of your specially made climbing boots and the sun penetrating through the tall trees reminded you that in one hand you still had the energy drink canister. And as you took it to the right while the group of people you had joined sporadically went to the left and slowly the sound of their footsteps became more and more distant, one of your hands went to open that can.

— Damn! Finally some fresh air! — You sighed with a deep breath tooking the drink to your lips and feeling it cool your throat slowly, it seemed as if your social and physical battery had increased as soon as your lips touched the entrance of it.

But, it was already a little warm, hot. And you inevitably contorted the face in disgust, you took too long to drink it straight, but, even so, finished it all just so you wouldn't have to throw it into the trees and could put it in one of the inside pockets of the backpack.

Soon after, it took almost ten minutes to fit the mountaineering equipment around your body. The harness placed around your hips and waist as an obvious safety measure being checked to see that it was indeed tight and without any untied buckles and the gloves on your hands in case you really need to climb high up the mount being checked by you to see that they were not slipping because of the heat.

And only then did you actually begin your personal adventure of climbing to the top or to the point where it was physically possible at the time of Mount Fuji.

There were even some paths already marked by soles of feet and heavy shoes on the ground lapped by grass, rocks, trees and bushes from so many people who had passed there before you. Also, there was no map or manual of exactly which way to go, you were going more by intuition than experience, and therefore further and further away from the first entrance you had passed – and that was the idea: to get as far away from civilization as possible and deeper into the heart of Fuji.

What's the fun of climbing a mountain or mount like this if you don't go as deep as possible? Or not explore all the possible options?

The more minutes went by, the more you found yourself hearing nothing but the faint, even delicate sounds of cicadas and small birds that would eventually hide in their cocoons as you passed by them giving small smiles as if the animals would somehow become less apprehensive.

And the more the air became thin.

The higher the altitude, the lower the oxygen levels.

Your partially gloved fingers tingled, and slowly, as you continued on your way at a slower pace than before, it seemed as if the pressure from the inside out of your lungs forced you to stop almost every ten minutes to catch the breath with one arm resting on a tree.

You could no longer even see the station with the Subashiri food huts, now it was just you, your heavy boots and the small, isolates sounds of defenseless animals coming from all sides.

And, in the middle of the silence, any noise becomes more amplified, as an arrow in the air your ears picked up something resembling grunts coming from somewhere diagonally across from you.

The first thought was to think that there was another person hurt, because it sounded like a human voice even though it seemed to purr in a few syllables.

Suddenly it stopped. The sounds stopped completely and you stood still in place waiting for it to start again, but five long minutes passed and nothing started again, so your feet started walking again. And immediately, almost the same second that the sole of the boot hit the ground again, the grunting started again.

— The fuck... — You hissed, looking around and searching for where the noise was coming from.

Eventually, out of sheer concern – and a mixture of curiosity, you found yourself moving out of the original path to approach a less treeless part, as if you were penetrating a forest that was not even known to you in those parts of Fuji.

The sounds getting louder and louder and you swallowing hard with a shiver running through your body as soon as your stupid mind started reminiscing about a bunch of horror movies where the character was too curious and ended up with a slit throat.

But what if someone actually was hurt? You couldn't live with the knowledge that you had the opportunity to try to help someone potentially injured and probably unable to walk properly and you closed eyes to it.

So your feet kept walking until they found the entrance to a cave with echoes of the grunts resounding and continuing to send shivers down your spine.

Before a "Hello" came out of your mouth, you covered it with one hand. If this was some kind of trap, you would be dead right there.

The girl in the hut had told you it was dangerous and yet you chose not to give up, so your feet stepped carefully into that cave so as not to tread too hard.

And there was even a strange smell in the air. It wasn't exactly bad, but it seemed to penetrate the synapses of your brain slowly and force you to keep walking inside.

Until, forcing your eyes a little to suit the only illumination coming from outside the cave, you managed to catch a glimpse of an almost completely human silhouette lying on something that was definitely impossible to discern what it was. Almost because there was a not very long tail moving from side to side in the same way a curious cat does when it is about to start exploring a new place.

Bright golden eyes with dilated pupils went up from the ground to your face and little beige fuzzy ears went up and down, your breath caught in the middle of the throat as soon as your attention wandered to the silhouette of that human yet animal-like thing and you could barely keep your focus on his hand wrapped around something between his legs that you obviously knew what it was.

Poor Hanma. He was literally just trying to relieve himself during his own mating period. And poor Y/N, she walked right up to him led by her own curiosity.

It had been a long time since Hanma Shuuji had the opportunity to see a girl this close, especially since he was usually not the most affectionate or loving hybrid with normal humans.

His eyes traveled down your legs covered only by the harness and the comfortable shorts slowly, until they stopped at the middle of your thighs. You had what he needed and wanted, definitely a pussy was going to be better than his hand wrapped around his painfully erect cock.

Your feet slowly started to walk backwards, eyes glued to the floor, heart beating fast against your chest. You knew you needed to get out of that place as quickly as possible, Hanma knew you wanted to try to escape from him.

And, even if you ran as soon as he got up from his sort of nest, you can't win a ground race with him. His body was more trained precisely to be able to chase and catch his prey.

When you least expected it, when the entrance to the cave was so close, a hand of the hybrid wrapped itself around your harness and pulled your body completely back almost so hard that you swore your feet briefly stopped touching the cave floor.

In the next minute that your eyes could assimilate, your body was lying against the soft surface of the same place he had been lying against previously and your breathing quickened at the physical exertion of trying to get up as you slammed against Hanma's chestplate and were forced to lie back down.

Honestly, Hanma was confused. Genuinely confused.

If you were a girl and he was a guy who needed your help to get off, why were you trying to push him away? Isn't that what girls and their pussies are for? To be filled with all his fertile seed?

Maybe a kiss would make you more tame for him, he almost always saw other adults up and down the mount doing that.

And when Hanma tilted his face and caught you off guard in a forceful kiss, your first action was to try to slap him and he held your wrist to stop you and bit your lower lip without much force so that you moaned in pain and let him slide his tongue into your mouth.

Your other hand absently brushed against one of his more sensitive than usual fuzzy ears and he let a moan, almost a purr, against your lips. And it would be a lie if that low, sly sound from him hadn't sent little sparks of arousal down your back and made your thighs press against each other.

His fingers dug into your harness and spread your legs apart so that he would be able to start rubbing his cock against your covered pussy, and the kiss deepened as your hands ended up caressing his cute little ears only to have the opportunity to hear and feel Hanma moaning against your mouth.

— Fuck! — His voice was hoarse as soon as you had to break the kiss to catch the breath and his hips kept rubbing against the middle of your legs and wetting your shorts with his pre-cum. — Do it again mhm! Your hands, 's so good! — His head tilted a little, indicating for you to continue flicking his ears and you realized that you didn't know how to do that without knowing how to apply the right pressure to make him enjoy your touch more.

— I-I don't... — You stopped talking as Hanma growled in your direction with his pupils gradually getting smaller.

— Do it. — It wasn't a request and your hands slowly began to run through his hair and ears calmly, not knowing what exactly hurt him and what was good.

His face sank into your neck and a few seconds later his mouth was licking and sucking there aggressively, as if he needed somehow to mark you without necessarily hurting you for other people to know that you were his, only his. To use and to break, like a cat toy.

His hands slid to grab your tits over your shirt and Hanma watched them fill his palms. "So soft!", that's what he was thinking.

Everything about you was so soft and nice to touch and squeeze, were all girls like that?

Just then, his treacherous and curious fingers fell upon your shorts and didn't bother to remove the safety harness first. Hanma only needed to rip the fabric and, hearing the sound of tearing, you looked at him incredulously even though you had spare clothes in the backpack that fell to the floor as soon as he pinned your body down.

— Don't fucking do that! Gosh, the fuck are you thinking?! — You shouted, punching him twice in the chest, and a shiver ran down your back as his gaze lifted to meet yours.

— Don't tell me what to do, human, it’s you who are the intruder here. — Hanma purred irritably before letting the fabric of what had been those shorts fall around your body. — I kinda like you, your body, you're all so soft, down here too? — His eyes fell on the wet bottom of your panties and two of his fingers brushed against your folds. — Oh, it's all slick and smooth and wet. — It was as if he was exploring your body and his ears were even rattling against your hands. — So, you need to be all filled up, don't you? And I need to fill you up.

Before you could answer or push him away, his face was leaning down and examining your pussy as he pulled your panties aside. The sweet smell of your pussy made his pupils dilate again, his back relaxed slowly and his tongue passed between lips.

It was a logical thing to taste you, Hanma knew this because something primitive clicked in his brain and told him to do it, but, ironically, he had no idea how good it would feel to run the tongue slowly over your folds and, in the end, suck on your entrance that he wanted so badly to fill with his seed.

You were soft down there too, but it was better than your neck or tits. It was warm, wet, tasted good to him and it was impossible for that mountain cat hybrid not to start sucking and licking you with the aim of getting more of your juices going straight down his throat.

And your hands caught in his hair, inevitably continuing to rub fingertips against his sensitive ears, while your head fell back and little moans escaped your lips without you even thinking to muffle them.

Hanma wasn't that skilled, but he was so hard at sucking you that it ended up letting you make whatever mess you wanted between his legs, his tongue pressing against your clit that he liked to feel squeezing and sliding into your tight pussy.

One hand slid down to pump his dick at the same rate as the knot deep in your belly began to tighten painfully and he guided himself from your moans and gasps to keep eating you out.

— S-Stop-mhm! — You tried to pull away from his face even though you were so close to cumming and Hanma held you in place with the hand that wasn't on his cock. — I, fuck, cannot-ngh!

In one long suck, your body surrendered to the soft mouth of the hybrid beneath you. The tips of your feet curling up and various spasms coursing through your back and thighs as your pussy gushed against his tongue and finally let him taste all of your juices.

Hanma didn't know what it was like to get pussydrunk, but he was definitely getting.

Your body slumped against the soft surface of what was his nest and you felt your head spin for long seconds, the only thing keeping you awake was the wet sound of his hand continuing to go up and down on his cock.

And he needed so badly to breed you and push his cum as deep as possible, so his hands articulated your body so that you were face down with ass up, your pussy completely exposed to be pounded by him.

Pulling you back by the waist, Hanma leaned over your back to rest his chin on one of your shoulders and drove his cock into your sensitive cunt without giving you much time to think and immediately slammed it inside you, deep and nice in the exact way he desperately needed.

A loud, almost too feline moan escaped from deep in his throat, and both your eyes and his rolled up as you felt yourself swallowing him to the base. And he didn't expect that as soon as he managed to bury himself inside your tight pussy, his cum-filled balls would immediately be emptied, breeding you for the first time and making his body quiver on top of yours.

— Fuck, you... feels so good! You swallowing me, 's so fucking good, I can feel you wanting all my cum and squeezing yourself, fuck! — His head dropped back and hands continued to pin you beneath him as his dick began to thrust inside your tight pussy and fuck his cum deeper with some of it dripping down your entrance and wetting his shaft and your thighs.

Small tears started to appear in the corner of your eyes, the overstimulation starting to take over your body as Hanma's balls slapped against your swollen clit and made your vision cloudy.

Hanma was railing you as if you were just another hole to be used, made for just that, and even with his brutal, animalistic rhythm, you could pick up on him calling you "my kitty" right next to your ear between breathless grunts and moans.

The only thing that reminded you that part of him was still human were these little lascivious whispers that managed to make you clench even tighter around his long dick that was ready to breed you again.

Your hips were beginning to show signs that they would be completely sore as soon as Hanma was done using you as a cocksleeve, but you didn't have time to pay attention to that: your body was cumming again almost at the same time as he was impregnating you again and making you take more of his cum inside your tight little pussy.

All while your completely tired body fell beneath his and his mouth was digging its teeth into your shoulder as a way of trying not to let himself give in to the more primitive side of his head at the idea of continuing to fuck you through your orgasm because Hanma Shuuji needed more.

Much more than you were willing or able to give him at that moment.

Almost against his own will, he pulled out from within your warm, wet walls and held you in his arms so that you were facing him and his lips could catch yours again in a hurried kiss.

Just as some of his seed began to leak from your entrance, two of his long fingers went to force it back in. And you moaned against his mouth as you felt yourself getting even fuller with them rubbing against your sensitive walls.

— I can't... fuck, can't do it again, a-anymore. — Your hands rested on his shoulders trying to pull away from his body and Hanma just tilted his face to start licking your neck again.

— We-- — You interrupted him.

— 'We'? There is no 'we’. — You squinted, looking at him irritably, Hanma's small ears drooped in an almost resentful movement.

— Hm? What do you mean? You're my kitty now, isn't it obvious? We're gonna stay here while I keep fucking my babies into you, you're mine now! — A grunt escaped him as he felt you trying to push him away again.

Good luck, you've now got yourself a new pet who, despite his dislike of humans, might make an exception for you for as long as you keep your legs open for him.

ㅤ🏷 tagging: @festive @wakaslut @strawberrysanzu @bontensucker @wakasa-wifey @manjiroscum @inu1gf @keisaint @saaraunicorn @ranilingus @dokidokimanji @mizurimirai @sleepy3 @kuroaka @slut4manjiro @zuuki @qudvxnkanx @manjirosdoll @hirwishin @izanaswifey @eriskaitto @horny-inarizaki-stan @mrsvaleska @goldenmnr @semisgroupie .

[clubmates-a]

y’know how i put a tl;dr of my general hcs for yuri in one big hc dump to expand on later? well, i’m doing it again, this time with miss sayori–let’s do this, yall! <3

>her parents are actually lovely ppl, (unlike yuri’s rip), it’s just their situation sucks, you know? i’ll make a more fleshed out post abt this later, but. well, tl;dr ???– >her dad is. very sick, he’d been in-and-out of hospitals for varying periods of time, eventually settling with home visits/care instead. which leaves her mom, often out working til the late at night and generally stressed out as she tries to keep a roof over her families heads, and pay medical bills in the same breath. >and that’s probably a big reason why sayori is. the way she is, bc she’s used to putting on that happy/brave face around her family, considering their situation. both to try and help them, and also to not stress any of them out further tbh?

>her love of literature surprisingly started young–telling scary stories at sleepovers, reading fairytales, playing pretend, making silly ocs, etc etc. she’s rlly good at improv + quickly brainstorming ideas, and. nowadays, she’s really into dnd and similar things. >she has a dnd group that has sessions online, since that was easier on her w/ her depression. but even that’s too much for her sometimes, she tries, though.

>since her room is on the second floor, when she wants to relax/be alone with her thoughts, she’ll climb out her window and sit on the bit of the roof underneath. >when her and MC were kids, they’d sit out there together and stargaze, but they haven’t done that in… years. but sayori still remembers it, and thinks of it fondly. >collects a lot of little enamel pins, stickers, action figures, and comic books! probably has a ita schoolbag and a flip phone with a cutesy charm attached.

>has a goldfish named ‘kerria’, her and MC rescued (by which i mean stole) them from a kingyo sukui booth at a festival when they were kids, around ten or so. >it was getting late, so the booth was getting taken down for the day, and there was only one (1) fish left, and. sayori was worried abt what would happen to them, so! she scooped them into a fish bag, while MC kept the stall keeper distracted. >let’s be real if they had just asked the guy about it, they most likely would’ve gotten the fish with a lot less fuss, but. hey, it’s a fun memory at least, ok…

>sayori was on the track team throughout junior high, but backed out before entering senior high, both bc of a low point in her depression + being stressed out in general. she spent the next few years hopping from club 2 club, trying 2 find somewhere she belonged once again. >but, well. she’d always end up getting kicked out after a few days, if she wasn’t outright turned away because of that unlucky reputation. >almost setting the cooking club on fire, trying to act out a scene and accidentally hitting s/b while gesturing in the drama club, tripping and falling into some of the newly finished pieces in the art club, etc etc. >she was. tbh, ready to just give up and attend the go home club instead, when monika suddenly approached her about the newly forming literature club! 👀👀👀

>sayori has a habit of doodling on anything she can get her hands on, her desk, her schoolwork, her skin, etc etc. she finds the action of scribbling away v relaxing. >it’s a good way 2 keep her mind off whatever might be bothering her, and it keeps her fidgety hands busy, y'know? her art is pretty decent too, round, cartoony and colorful, wouldn’t look out of a place in a kid’s book or something, to be honest! >being a comic book fan, she also draws her own sometimes, short ones mostly starring herself and her clubmates, about any misadventures they might have! >there’s def one abt the 'wine incident’……………………………....................

>sayori taught herself how 2 play ukulele as a tween, but her interest and will to practice slowly fizzled out as she got older. until recently that is, she’s started playing again w/ support from a certain club president! >sometimes, when one of them is having a particularly bad day, sayori and monika will skip class and hang out in the school’s music room, play s/t together, and talk about whatever comes to mind.

>sayori’s feelings on monika post-game (in the good ending) are… complicated, esp after becoming club president and dealing w/ all the self-aware stuff first hand. like, she understands it, in a way? >is she still mad/upset? obviously, they were friends, or at least sayori thought they were, but monika still… y'know. but after becoming club president herself? she gets it! because it kinda sucks! like a lot! so, cool motive, still shitty, but sayori does forgive monika in the end. >but, also: she isn’t sure if her forgiveness would even mean anything to monika, bc. does she still see them as ‘just code’, or what? i mean she brought them back for a reason, but… who knows. sayori hopes it’d make her feel a little better, at least. she misses her sometimes.

>she likes video games, even if she doesn’t play them as often as MC, she WILL kick ur ass in super smash bros + mario kart, and likes animal crossing. also, there’s an arcade in town, she’s the highest score on a lot of their games. >learning to bake from natsuki, but still can’t cook worth a damn–can and will eat breakfast stuff 4 every meal if u let her. (also rlly likes cheap gas station slushies) >has lots of little rituals, like not stepping on sidewalk cracks, sorting candy by colors before eating them, making wishes @ 11:11, etc etc. it might seem silly to others, but it rlly does bother her when she can’t complete them for w/e reason. >likes making braided bracelets bc she finds the repetitive task calming, has most def made the rest of the club + MC ofc friendship bracelets, all in their 'main color’. (blue for sayori, green for monika, pink for natsuki, purple for yuri, and red for MC.)

>sayori is a earring gay, she has lots of funky ones she switches out everyday or so, having special pairs for holidays and such. she often makes a lot of them herself, with her crafty skillz(tm).

[buckys-black-dress]

stargazing (bucky barnes x fem!reader)

a/n: so this idea totally just came to me because this trope is honestly so cute and i love these and i need to get this out of my system. i listened to stargazing by the neighborhood while writing this and i LOVE this song, so i’d recommend listening while reading! (just listen to the whole album).

also-- happy new year! 2020 quite literally fucked us up but im so grateful this year was the one where i decided to come on here and share my work with yall. i love every single one of my readers, so THANK YOU! anyways, without further ado...

enjoy my dearies!!! -ali

wc: 2.8k

- 

When you first became best friends with Rebecca Barnes in preschool, the last place you’d expected to end up was with a massive crush on her older brother.

James, or Bucky, as he likes to be called my his close friends, was basically the perfect guy for you. He was kind, witty, and didn’t treat you like a child. (Anymore). 

Now that you had graduated high school and were in you first year of college, Bucky was in his second year. And things were getting rough. 

You were a Cognitive Psychology major, and your main interest was in becoming an occupational therapist. You were attending Columbia University. 

And of course, so was Bucky, studying English Literature. Rebecca was studying at FIT, her main interest being in fashion design. All three of you couldn’t bear to leave New York City, so you all decided to stay nearby. 

Since all three of you were in the same area, more or less, you three remained close and tight-knit. Since you were still a freshman, you decided to dorm on campus, while Rebecca and Bucky did the same. Bucky was in a fraternity, so he had a place in the house, and you often found yourself hanging out in his room, having been introduced to most of his brothers.

Like today, it was Thursday night, and your classes were cancelled for tomorrow. You were in no rush to get back to your room, and your roommate was also out at her boyfriend’s. Rebecca thought you were finishing up an essay, though. 

“Y/N, you’re crashing here tonight?” Bucky’s voice caused his chest to rumble under your place on it. 

“Yeah, is that alright?” You asked, looking up at him.

“Of course, Y/N/N.” He smiled back down at you, trying to ignore the fluttering in his chest at your doe eyes. 

She’s your sister’s best friend. Becca would hate you.

“I’m gonna wash up before I fall asleep, Buck.” You said with a yawn, lifting yourself off of Bucky’s warm, comfortable bed. 

Bucky watched your form disappear out of his room to the bathroom next door, his chest deflating with a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. 

I’m so fucked.

-

Making your short walk to the bathroom, your mind was filled with thoughts, and you really didn’t know what to do in this current situation. 

You and Becca had been best friends since you were both in preschool.

And now you were pretty certain that you had the biggest crush known to humankind on her older brother. 

Staring at your reflection in the mirror as you pat your face dry, you wondered what would happen if this went further. 

What would happen if you told Bucky that you liked him?

What would Becca do if she knew you liked her brother?

Shaking your head at yourself, you knew you couldn’t do that to Becca. She’s been there for you through everything that’s happened to you. To just turn around and tell her that you’ve fallen for her brother- you don’t know if that would be the right thing to do.

But how could you just outwardly deny your feelings for Bucky?

A knock on the bathroom door drew you out of your thoughts, letting whoever was knocking know that they could come in. 

“Hey, Y/N, how ya been?” It was one of Bucky’s closest friends whom you also knew growing up, Steve Rogers. 

“Hey Steve, I’m good. How ‘bout you?” You asked, getting ready to head back to Bucky’s room. 

“Good, good, y’know, Peg’s keepin’ me on my toes.” He flashed you a smile, a blush creeping up on his face at the mention of his girlfriend. 

“Aw, Stevie’s in loooove,” You sing-songed, pinching his cheek.

“Well, I think I could say the same for you, Y/N/N.” Steve scoffed back in retort, but your breath hitched at the words.

“Shut up, Steve...” You mumbled, twiddling your fingers. 

“Y/N, I’m serious... You and Buck ‘ve been spending a lot of time together and I can tell. He’s my best friend, and I know when my best friend is taken for someone. Trust me, Y/N, your feelings aren’t one-sided.” And with that, he steps into the bathroom, leaving you reeling at his words.

Lost in your thought again, you walked back to Bucky’s room. You tucked yourself under his warm duvet, as you fell into a deep slumber with his arm wrapped around your waist, thinking about the weight of it around you as you fell asleep.

- 

The next morning was... quiet... to say the least. After your encounter with Steve in the bathroom, you really didn’t know how to feel about your feelings towards Bucky. He felt the tenseness that was rolling off of you in waves, making him wonder if he did something to make you upset. 

Bucky wondered if he was doing too much, wondering if he had caused you to be uncomfortable with him for some reason.

So naturally, he pulled back.

As the days went on and got colder, you found yourself spending more time in your dorm, or places that weren’t associated with Bucky in your mind. 

And it was safe to say the both of you were losing it.

Bucky was slowly losing his composure, where he would participate the most in his seminar classes, he was quiet and folded in on himself, losing his confidence. 

Where you were the most outspoken on certain topics in your classes, you became a bit of a hermit. 

And almost everyone noticed.

Most notably, Becca and Steve.

When you returned from class at the end of a long week without Bucky, you invited Becca over to have take out in your room.

“So, how’s your week been?” She asks, reaching into your takeout box and grabbing a piece of garlic honey chicken.

Rolling your eyes, you say “Fine, same old. You? How’d that design project go?” 

“It was awesome! My professor really loved my piece, she said it was one of the ‘most original takes’ on this project she’s seen!” Becca was ecstatic and you were so proud of her.

“That’s so awesome, Bec! One day you’re gonna have to make me something that I can wear, and when someone asks me where I got it, I’ll just say, ‘oh, sorry my best friend made it, you’ll have to wait ‘til it hits the runways to buy it.’” You laugh, pointing your chopsticks at her.

“Y/N, stop, you flatterer.” She smirked, looking back down at her food. “Hey, I’ve also been meaning to ask... have you noticed Bucky acting weird as of late, or anything? Is it just me or is he like... way more quiet than usual?” Becca asked inquisitively. 

“Oh- uh, I actually have no idea. I haven’t really seen him that much this week. Just around campus here and there.” You shrug your shoulders, the pit in your stomach nagging at you.

“Really? You guys usually hang out more often...” She responds, and your face burns in embarrassment. 

“Wh- How do you know how often your brother and I hang out?” Your voice didn’t even feel like your own as you spoke, quickly occupying it with food.

“Well, he does live with Steve... Apparently you’re around there pretty often.” Rebecca eyes you, seeing your body language and how uncomfortable you seem. “Y/N... If you like my brother, that’s okay. I think you guys would be cute together. And I can tell you like him, so don’t try to deny it.” Becca smiles, reaching to rest a hand on yours in comfort. 

“Wh- You don’t care?” You ask in confusion, expecting a bit of a more dramatic reaction. 

“Of course I care, I care about my two favorite people being happy. And if they’re happy together, then that’s even better!” She explains, and your head spins.

“I- I’m telling you this in confidence, Becca. You can’t tell anyone, not Steve, not Peggy, and absolutely not Bucky...” She nods, moving closer to you. “I...I do like Bucky. A lot. But I don’t think he likes me that way. I mean, just look at his exes. I’m not like Natasha, or those gorgeous girls. And what if he just sees me as his friend. Like a little sister?” You finish, your hands flailing around and out of breath. 

“Y/N... I know my brother, but I can’t read his mind. If I had to take a wild guess... I’d say he likes you too. Based on what Steve tells me, based on how Bucky acts when you come up in conversation... his eyes light up, dude. I think you need to talk to him, face to face.” Rebecca explains, giving her best advice. “You both deserve to be happy, and I think you could both give that to each other.” She softly smiles. 

“Thanks, Becca. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You laugh, pulling her into a tight hug. “I’ll talk to him.”

- 

In the frat house across the campus, Steve and Bucky were sitting in the living room amongst some of their other brothers. 

“Buck, what’s been up with you this week?” Tony, a senior and president of the frat asks from the kitchen.

“Hm?” Bucky looks up, confused at the question.

“You’ve been... off all week long.” Sam chimes in from next to him on the couch, eyes leaving the football match on the TV.

“I’m fine, why?” Bucky deflects, taking a sip of his drink in hand.

“Whatever you say, but I have a feeling this has to do with Y/N... haven’t seen her around here at all this week.” Tony points out, plopping down on a futon. 

Steve’s eyes widened, looking down at his phone that he’s been on all night.

Little did Bucky know, Rebecca was feeding him information about you to him directly, trying to make sense of his friend’s odd behavior this week.

His eyes shot to Bucky’s, trying to gauge his reaction to Tony’s mention of you.

“Yeah, she’s been.... busy, I guess. Haven’t really talked to her.” Bucky says nonchalantly. 

“Why not? You two are basically attached at the hip... like, Friday nights are usually your thing together. I thought you’d man up and ask her out already.” Sam’s response caused a stillness in the room, everyone looking at Bucky for his next move. 

But it was quiet. 

“She’s... she’s my sister’s best friend... I don’t think Becca would appreciate me taking her best friend out to dinner.” Bucky said in a low voice, clearing his throat. 

“Have you asked her how she feels about it?” Thor asks from his spot on the other couch. “Maybe she’s fine with it, she doesn’t seem to be too stuck up...” He suggests.

“My sister isn’t stuck up, man. Watch it.” He responds defensively. 

“I wasn’t saying that! But you should talk to her about it, that’s all I’m saying!” Thor fights back. 

“I just- I don’t know, last week when Y/N was here, she went to the bathroom to wash up at night, and when she came back she was acting totally different. She’s usually comfortable around me, but she was acting like... like she was uncomfortable around me. I thought I did something to make her feel that way, so I kinda backed off this week.” Bucky explains, trying to understand what went wrong.

“Well, did she say anything? Did she try to reach out this week?” Tony asks. 

“I mean, she texted me a few times, but it was casual conversation. I can’t tell how she’s feeling. I like her, but I don’t want to make things weird for her and Becca, or Becca and I.” 

And this is where Steve chimes in. 

“I mean, come on Buck, it’s obvious she likes you too. I think you need to talk to her, because Becca wants you two to be happy. I don’t think she’d care that much, y’know?”

“But what if I make things awkward? Like, what if I read the signals wrong this whole time, and she doesn’t even really like me?” Bucky was now going into a deep spiral, and Steve needed to pull him out, fast. 

“Buck, I don’t think so. You should talk to her, face to face.” Steve encouraged.

“You think so?” Bucky wasn’t so convinced.

“Yes!” A chorus of voices echoed in the house, causing Bucky to jump to his feet, ready to confront this head-on.

“Okay, yeah, yes, I’m gonna tell her how I feel. I got this, I’ll be fine-” But his pumping-up session was cut short from the doorbell ringing through the house.

Steve got up, “I got it.” He simply said, smirking mischievously as he turned to face the door and twisted the knob.

And of course, it was none other than you.

“Hey Buck? I think it’s for you!” Steve yells from the doorway, stepping out of the way and directing everyone in the living room to hide out of sight. Of course, they were all still eavesdropping and lurking about.

“Doll, what’re ya doin’ here?” Bucky was beyond confused, you timing was impeccable. 

“I-I have some things I wanna talk about. I just, I think we need to talk.” You say, looking up at him.

“Y-Yeah, come inside, it’s freezing out. What’s up, doll?” He asks, pulling you into the house and into the living room, sitting down next to you on a couch, making sure to face you. 

“Everything’s alright... but I need to get this off my chest before I go crazy-” You stop yourself from rambling further. “I was having dinner with Becca earlier, and we... talked... about some things. And apparently, someone was telling her about all the time we spend together.” Bucky was listening, but cursing Steve in his head, knowing he was behind it. 

“And I know last week I was acting weird, but I promise, it wasn’t because of something you did. Well, it kinda was, b-but not something bad, y’know?” You explain, trying to get Bucky to understand how you feel.

“Whaddaya mean, doll? If I did something, tell me, because I would never want to hurt you-” He started, trying to pinpoint his actions. 

“You made me like you! There, you happy?” You exclaim, hands covering your cherry red face. “I said it! I like you. And I totally understand if you don’t feel the same way, I’m just your little sister’s annoying friend, I get it-” 

But instead of the feeling of rejection, you were met with Bucky’s lips on yours, his hands cupping your cheeks.

Bucky was kissing you.

Bucky was kissing you!

Holy fuck!

What. The. Fuck. 

But before you could overthink anything, you heard loud whoops and cheers coming from all around you.

“What the hell? Steve?” You asked, looking around, trying to process the last minute.

“Finally! Took ya two idiots long enough! God, Becca and I didn’t know how much longer we’d have to be your freakin’ puppet masters.” He laughed from his spot in the kitchen. 

“Come on doll, let’s go upstairs to talk, where we could have some privacy...” Bucky said pointedly, looking at his brothers as they kept cheering as you two made your way up the stairs. 

- 

Once the door closed behind you two, you were quite literally speechless.

“You kissed me.” You pointed out the obvious, since your mind was still reeling.

“I did.” Bucky simply answers.

“...Why?” You ask, like an idiot. 

“Because, for the past three years I’ve had the biggest crush known to man on you... and I knew if I didn’t kiss you then, I never would. Kind of a life or death situation here, doll.” He jokes trying to gauge your mood.

“Bucky...” You sighed, walking closer to him, holding his face, “you can kiss me whenever you want.” And punctuated your sentence with a kiss. 

“Well... then... can I call you my girlfriend?” He asks, looking into your twinkling eyes. Bucky’s large hands cover your waist, pulling you closer against him.

“Yeah... I think you can.” You answer, the sparkle never leaving your eyes.

“Hmmm... finally.” Bucky hums, closing the gap between your lips over and over again. 

Your loud giggle fills the room as Bucky peppers kisses all over your face, trying to make up for lost time. 

“Hey, make sure to use protection, kids!” someone’s voice comes from down the hall from’s Bucky’s room.

“Shut up, Sam!” You both yell in unison, resuming your previous activities.

And in this moment, there’s nowhere else either of you would rather be. 

[tatsumology]

Cut from the Same Cloth

(Findin’ the spots where we’re similar and where we’re different is also kinda fun~)

This story comes from Koga’s 4* card from Adonis’s Feature Scout!

Season: Autumn (秋)

Location: Garden

Koga: I’ve finished preparing the soil, Kazehaya-senpai.

Tatsumi: Perfect timing; I just finished getting the water. Now we can start with the planting.

However, I was surprised when you said that we were going to mix the soil by ourselves. I assumed that you’d ask for store-bought soil.

Koga: The mixing process is an art and kinda fun, y’know~? Depending on the plant, ya need to use different types of soil.

Waitin’ ‘til you can see the results is a pain, but that makes the payoff even better when they grow up nicely.

Well, in some tricky cases I use store-bought ones, though.

Goin’ from the left we got some for the lettuce, then for the spinach and then the one for the broad beans. Which one are ya gonna do, senpai?

Tatsumi: Then I will take care of the lettuce.

Koga: Aight, then I’ll handle the spinach. You good with making it so whoever finishes first does the broad beans afterwards?

Tatsumi: Sure, I don’t mind. Shall we begin?

Every single seedling looks fresh and healthy. I can tell that you’ve been showering the plants in love.

Thank you for entrusting me with these seedlings.

Koga: We’re roommates, after all. And I also take care of the kitchen garden at Yumenosaki after all.

So when I heard you were also doin’ some gardening with Gardenia, I felt like I could vibe with ya a bit more.

Tatsumi: I’m honored you feel some intimacy between us. I’m also delighted to learn that we have a common hobby.

Oh my, where did these dead leaves… Ah, I see…

Koga: Hm, what’s up?

Tatsumi: I apologize, I got a little lost in thought there. I was thinking that it’s already autumn.

During this time, I would gather up the fallen leaves and roast sweet potatoes at my family’s church.

We still have some flowerpots left, so it would be nice if we could grow some sweet potatoes.

Koga: Too late now. If you want ‘em, you gotta wait ‘til next year. You gotta do it around May, y’know.

Tatsumi: Is that so? I wasn’t aware… You’re very knowledgeable.

I do know about how to water the plants, but back home we would only stock up from stores, so I’m afraid I am poorly informed about the cultivation itself…

So I’m glad I’ve learned new things from working with Gardenia, and also because of you.

Koga: Jeez, you don’t gotta go ''that'' far... But hey, can’t say I hate hearin’ it...♪

I was kinda curious ‘bout somethin’ you said, though. What’d ya mean with “stock up”? Did ya sell vegetables there?

Tatsumi: No, I didn’t mean it like that.

At our church we would regularly distribute food for the less fortunate people among us. We only used store-bought ingredients for that.

Koga: So that’s what ya meant.

Tatsumi: Exactly. I apologize for the confusion.

Koga: …‘M sorry about all the questions. Were there also people who weren’t in need of food and still went to get some at yours?

Did ya also treat those sly guys equally?

Tatsumi: Yes. Because we are all God’s children. —Amen

Koga: ….Hmm, ‘s that right?

(This world is swarming with people with broken consciences. Isn’t it stupid to care about all people unconditionally?)

(If ya care for the bad guys too, ya might just overlook the ones actually in need.)

(Or maybe ya really do gotta save everyone so ya don’t overlook anyone….? I don’t get it at all~)

(But whatever, this guy probably couldn’t even hurt a fly.)

(But if ya don’t take care of pests, they’ll ruin all our crops…)

If ya find any pests, hand those plants over to me. I’ll get rid of ‘em.

Tatsumi: Get rid of….. I appreciate your consideration, but it is not a problem for me.

I exterminate them by myself in Gardenia.

I do not commend taking the lives of living creatures. But it is impossible to live without killing anything.

That is exactly why I will always express my gratitude for my meals.

Koga: (He’ll still kill pests even though he’s a church boy? What kinda logic is that? I’m gettin’ this less and less~)

………

Tatsumi: …...You look as though you don’t quite understand this.

Well, that’s fine. Without expressing yourself fully, you won’t be understood properly. That is why missionary work exists.

Koga: Hmmm~ I do get the thing about being hard to understand, though. It’s why people tend to stay the hell away from rock music.

Tatsumi: Ahaha. I very much appreciate your words of consideration. You’re very kind. You don’t run away from different views, but instead try to meet halfway.

…...It looks like our work is done here. Thank you very much for your hard work.

As a way of showing my appreciation, I’d like to make you some blended tea from the herbs I grew with Gardenia, if you don’t mind.

Koga: Hmm, herbs huh. I start sneezin’ if the smell’s too strong though…

Tatsumi: Then I’ll change the blend to make it easier for you to drink.

This will take a bit of time, so please take a seat over there.

Koga: Aight, got it.

(...Kazehaya-senpai’s different from me in a lotta ways, like how he grew up and his mindset. I might never completely understand him.)

(But I also sorta relate to him in some ways. It ain’t like we’re totally different~ at least that’s what I feel like.)

Koga: (Findin’ the spots where we’re similar and where we’re different is also kinda fun~)

(And now that we’re roommates, I think I’ll try talkin’ to him more so I can get to know him better...♪)

Proofreaders

JP: 310mc

EN: ciel

[unbridgeabledistances]

prompt: domestic gallavich/being intimate in a nonsexualway bc there’s like 3 weeks til the next episode 😐

your wish is my command, anon!<3 i decided to tie this into next ep bc i simply cannot HANDLE mickey’s outfit/big gay metamorphosis & i needed to create the scene that inspired it so i wrote this

a one-shot bridging 11x06 and 11x07 in which ian and mickey talk about “gay friends,” ripped jeans, and do a bit of processing along the way

tw for brief mention of homophobia/abuse (bc terry lol)

--

“How come we don’t have any, like, gay friends?”

Ian looked up from where he was laying on the ground, breathing heavily after a series of push-ups, a nightly routine that he was trying to keep intact even though he and Mickey were practically driving the entire circumference of Chicago every day to make weed deliveries from dawn til dusk, leaving them both exhausted. It had been a week since all the shit with Terry, and a month or so since he and Mickey had started the security gig; while months ago their evenings would be spent sitting side by side on the bed in a brittle silence while Ian read or scratched in his notebook and Mickey played games on his phone blasting at full volume in the pajamas he’d been wearing all day, these days the evenings in their bedroom were softer and warmer— like they were settling into the space together, like they were both on the same team instead of constantly clashing and butting heads while trapped in a too-small space. These days, after having dinner in the clamor of the crowded kitchen, he and Mickey would head upstairs and change out of their uniforms, and Ian would work out while Mickey mostly just lounged on the bed, sometimes making commentary and watching him bob up and down with a pensive smirk or scrolling through his phone.

But tonight, Mickey was quiet— his eyes flickered to the curves and edges of Ian’s torso every now and then as Ian broke a sweat, but otherwise he wasn’t playfully poking and prodding like usual.

Mickey had been a lot quieter in general this week, after all the stuff with Terry— Ian knew seeing the source of all of Mickey’s trauma in a wheelchair immobile from the neck down, the most vulnerable Terry could have been, felt worse than someone repeatedly twisting a knife in Mickey’s abdomen. But beyond the initial shock and the almost-murder and lugging him up the stairs, having Terry in a wheelchair twenty feet away did something deeper to Mickey. This whole situation shifted something solid that had been lodged in the pit of Mickey’s stomach for years— Ian could see it, and he fucking hated it. He hated Mickey’s glassy contemplative eyes as he looked out the car window while they drove to a new dropoff location, lost in his head when he thought Ian wasn’t looking. He hated the tightly wound tension between Mickey’s shoulder blades as he slept, curled into himself and twisted in the comforter, facing away from Ian on the other side of the bed. He hated the tight smiles Mickey gave him as he made some offhand joke about Terry when they could hear him cursing and shrieking through the open front windows, smiles that were trying to prove something outwardly but showed the barbed pain stinging at Mickey’s insides. Ian poured out what he could in soft touches, in skims of fingertips at the breakfast table and in an arm over Mickey’s waist while they slept; but he could only give as much as Mickey would take, and for most of the week Mickey had shut everyone out with iron walls.

Ian couldn’t imagine what was stirring in Mickey’s mind; he’d seen some of Mickey’s trauma firsthand, sure, and some of the stories about Terry came slipping through the cracks when Mickey’s guard was down— mostly on those late nights when they both couldn’t sleep and Mickey whispered into the crook of Ian’s neck as they were curled into each other, cradled in the dark silence of their bedroom. But Ian knew there was deeper shit that he hadn’t heard about, and he could see the constant fear of Mickey’s adolescence hanging heavy around his neck all these years later. But Mickey didn’t need anyone to push his walls down— Ian knew he’d open up when he was ready.

Which is why this random question, the most direct statement Mickey had really made to him all week, caught Ian off guard. He sat up, folding his arms over his legs and staring up at where Mickey was slouching on the bed, propped up by a pillow he’d shoved between his back and the wall. “Gay friends?” he asked, more than a little confused.

Mickey cleared his throat. “Yeah, gay friends, y’know. Like all your youth center queers that came to the wedding or whatever.” He suddenly looked down and picked at a fraying thread on his shirt sleeve, not meeting Ian’s eyes.

Ian raised an eyebrow in curiosity. This was random, sure, but Mickey wouldn’t have brought it up if something wasn’t weighing on him, bubbling up after all the events of this week.

“I don’t know— I guess since the pandemic and stuff, I haven’t really kept in touch with Geneva or any of those guys who came to our wedding. We only really talked after I got out of prison because of all the Gay Jesus publicity bullshit, but after you got out I wasn’t really thinking about that as much.”

Mickey blew out a breath, so quietly Ian barely noticed it. Ian stood, wiping his sweaty forehead and plopping down on the bed next to Mickey, folding his legs so their knees were almost touching— but still giving him space, still letting him breathe.

“Why’re you asking?”

“Don’t know, really. Just thinkin’.” Mickey picked at his shirt sleeve again, then flickered his gaze up to meet Ian’s eyes, two clear pools of glassy blue. “Thinkin’ about what life could’ve been like. If I wasn’t scared shitless of who I was for so long.”

Ian felt something twist in his gut, the same queasy pang of pain that always resurfaced whenever he saw Mickey like this, whenever he was reminded of all the unspeakable agony that Terry had put him through.

“It’s fucked up that you didn’t get to be who you were for so long, Mick,” he breathed, knowing that statement didn’t cover the amount of things that were fucked up about this situation.

Mickey ran his teeth over his bottom lip, like he was concentrating. “Yeah.”

Ian let them sit there for a second. It seemed like Mickey wanted to say more, but something in him was frozen solid. After a moment, Ian tried to break the tension.

“Hey, for the record, I’ve had lots of gay friends and you aren’t missing much. There’s lots of PC bullshit that’s important but took me fucking forever to learn— and even then, I never really felt like I totally belonged.” He gently nudged Mickey’s ribcage. “I guess that’s why I forgot about everyone, between work and getting to be with you all the time— I’d rather eat pizza in the mall food court with you than go to some boujee fucking café with the youth center people any day.”

The corner of Mickey’s mouth ticked upwards slightly. “Yeah. Guess you’re right.” His fingers went slack around the threads on his shirtsleeve he’d been picking at. “You don’t… miss it though? Bein’ around people who’re like us?”

Ian paused for a moment, imagining the youth center crew in the same room as Mickey— it would be fucking comical, like people speaking two different languages, like astronauts trying to communicate with aliens on Mars through gestures and confused looks. But that was just because Mickey didn’t know how to speak that language— he’d been kept shrouded in an abusive household with daily death threats for years, and then stowed away in prison where he didn’t have the chance to go to fucking brunches and clubs and education events like Ian could. Ian got the chance to learn all that shit— it wasn’t Mickey’s fault that he never did, and if it was anyone’s, it was all Terry’s.

Ian’s eyes flickered to Mickey’s face— he looked vulnerable and split open, like he was drifting away in all the possibilities of what could have been. When he answered, Ian spoke softly, carefully.

“I mean… I guess I do. There were nice parts of going out with people, or even those after-parties back when I used to work at the club. There’s something nice about being with your people, where you can make jokes about stuff or talk about deep shit and everyone’s on the same page. It’s hard to find that around here.” Ian tentatively crawled his hand over the blanket, letting it rest on Mickey’s knee. “S’there anything else going on?”

Mickey raised his thumb to his mouth, biting at a hangnail contemplatively. “Dunno, man. Just thinking. How it might be nice, to have friends like us. I used to be scared of hangin’ with other queers, but I think that was just some deep bullshit with Terry.” He looked up to meet Ian’s eyes. “It’d be nice to stop… hating that part of myself, or whatever.”

Ian smiled, reaching to intertwine his fingers with Mickey’s and tracing a pattern with the thumb that was free from their grasp on Mickey’s inner thigh, a soft touch of validation that Ian hoped would soak into Mickey’s skin.

“I think so too.” Ian watched the corner of Mickey’s mouth curve upwards. “I can definitely hit up some of the people I used to hang with, and see if they wanna get coffee or something? With the two of us? Only if you want.”

Mickey nodded— then chuckled a breathy laugh, like he was relieved. “Fuck it. Yeah.”

Ian couldn’t help it; Mickey looked so fucking sweet and so relieved that he had to press a kiss to the top of his head. Mickey squirmed underneath him, bristling like a cat that didn’t want to be pet like he did with most of Ian’s soft touches— but Ian just grinned and doubled down, pressing another slower peck onto Mickey’s temple. Mickey blew out a slow breath.

“Don’t know what I’d fuckin’ wear to a brunch with a bunch of Northside do-gooder gays,” he said after a moment, his voice wavering so slightly that no one except Ian would have noticed.

Ian rolled his eyes fondly, giving Mickey’s hand a quick pulse of a squeeze. “Mickey, are you kidding? Wear whatever the fuck you want. You don’t need to change yourself, that’s kind of the whole point.”

“Yeah. Fuck. Guess it is.” Mickey was quiet for a moment, but still chewing on his bottom lip, like he was building the courage to say something more. Ian could tell— he let the comfortable silence hang between them, knowing that Mickey would break it when he was ready.

“D’you think it’d be stupid if I, like, tried to… jazz up my look a bit?” He darted his eyes nervously to Ian’s face, down to their clasped hands, and then back to the covers again. “Like, uh— I don’t know. Maybe wore some shit that didn’t have holes in it. With patterns, or whatever.”

Ian felt his face split into a grin. Patterns, or whatever— god, he loved his dumbass husband so fucking much. He pressed another kiss to Mickey’s cheek— this time Mickey didn’t flinch away, his only resistance a forced roll of his eyes.

“Mick, I don’t think that’s stupid at all. I think you should dress however makes you feel good.”

“’Kay.” Mickey pursed his lips, like he was still hesitant. Ian rubbed his thumb over the back of Mickey’s hand, their fingers still clasped and hanging limply in Mickey’s lap. The silence was hanging again, and Ian could still feel the tight waves of anxiety bouncing off of Mickey. He took in a breath.

“I could… help you, y’know. If you wanted to dress a certain way. At the very least I could gas you up and tell you how hot you look.” Ian paused, smirking and running his eyes over Mickey’s torso. “But I could also help you pick shit out, or whatever. We could order some stuff online.”

Mickey looked up at him, his eyes oddly relieved and open in a way they hadn’t been in days. “Yeah?”

Ian softly smiled. “Yeah. Only if you want to. You’re you, and you don’t have to pretend to be anyone else. I love the way you look— hell, it drives me crazy, Mick. But— if you feel like you aren’t dressing the way that makes you feel the best, or like you’re putting on an act for other people and you don’t want to anymore— then we can figure this out.”

This time it was Mickey that initiated affection, lifting their clasped hands and pressing a quick ghost of a kiss to Ian’s wrist. Ian smiled in acknowledgement, then playfully raised his eyebrows. “You wanna look online now? I’m done working out and more than happy to help you gay up your look.”

Mickey unclasped their hands, playfully shoving Ian squarely in the chest. “Fuck you.” Then, in an uncharacteristic move from the way Mickey had been flinching away from his touches all week, Mickey leaned in closer to Ian’s chest, nestling his back on Ian’s sternum and reaching for his phone that was discarded on the blanket beside him. “Alright, hot stuff. Where’re we fucking shopping?”

Ian grinned and snapped the waistband of Mickey’s sweatpants playfully, shuffling underneath him and getting comfortable.

“’Kay, let me think. I used to order a bunch of shirts and stuff from Primark when I was going out with the youth center people. They have good denim, too.”

Mickey’s bottom lip was caught between his teeth again while he listened. He hesitated for a moment, his thumb hovering over the phone’s keyboard— then, in an automatic movement, he quickly shoved his phone into Ian’s hand, cheerfully wriggling back into Ian’s chest. Ian smirked and unlocked the phone, happy to take the reins— online shopping for fashion was clearly lightyears out of Mickey’s comfort zone.

Ian navigated over to the Primark homepage, plastered with torsos of toned models wearing striped button ups and ripped jeans. His thumb pressed down onto the “denim” tab, and he started to slowly scroll through the rows of options, holding the phone so Mickey could see.

“I don’t know what you really want, but they’ve got pretty cheap pants and shit that’re good quality…” Ian let his voice trail off, speaking softly to where Mickey was lying on his chest in a voice that he knew was tickling the shell of Mickey’s ear. Mickey almost seemed… nervous, or at the very least paralyzed by the wealth of options. He raised his thumb to his mouth, anxiously biting the hangnail again.

“I guess those ripped ones don’t look too bad.”

Ian clicked on the picture Mickey was referring to. They were black jeans, a dark wash and skinny cut, with patches ripped on both knees. Ian felt something well in his chest, probably an overreaction to a pair of jeans— but these jeans were perfect for Mickey. They weren’t too much, weren’t overly fashionable, but they still felt more clean-cut than the baggy pants Mickey usually threw on. These jeans were badass, and totally aligned with Mickey’s don’t-fuck-with-me vibe, but they were deliberate. Stylish. Like they were saying here the fuck I am.

“Yeah?” Ian knew Mickey could tell he was smiling from his voice.

Mickey smirked, craning his neck and turning to look up at Ian. “Yeah. Think I can pull ‘em off?”

Ian pressed his lips together. “Fuck yeah. You’re gonna look so good.”

Mickey just gave a satisfied smile, and nestled back against Ian’s chest again. “Let’s get ‘em, then.”

[alldayangst]

gold rush (Tom Holland)

All of my fics are LGBT and PoC friendly. Inspired by gold rush by Taylor Swift. Everybody wants Tom, but you don’t like a gold rush. WC: 2.7K words. 

“Y/N, I just wanted to say again, thank you for coming in today and doing this for us.” Tom’s dad, Dominic, said as he displaced papers across desks, earl grey swaying like an angry lake in his mug. Approaching footsteps hinted that the star of the show was soon to be hold. In other words, Tom was running behind.

The door creaked and light from the corridor crept through like Sun peeping through curtains of the Night. It refusing to shut after Tom budged and pushed was maybe divine punishment for him being so late, and maybe provided the bit of laughter you needed after rolling out of bed at 6am for this, for him. When the door eventually did close, Tom turned around and saw you in all your glory; much taller than he remembered, more assured than he’d imagined, and more gorgeous than drowned out and half forgotten memories of you could ever fabricate.

You and Tom ran in the same social circles, but hadn’t seen each other since Tom’s career imploded when you were both nineteen. As much as Tom felt he owed his heart and soul to the UK, he maintained an almost permanent fixture on the States. It started to feel like his trips back to England were in fact actual holiday. At one point, you were in love with Tom, but meeting became a constant battle of ‘here, not there’ and your heart grew tired of the duck and goose chase. The gravity of the situation was too much for you, whom hadn’t even tasted their twenties yet. 

“Y/N!” Tom launched at you and held you in tight embrace. You let go of the hug, but he didn’t. And his dad watched on in momentary awe as you wrapped your arms around Tom once again, who breathed in every part of you with unwavering adoration.

“Tom!” You rubbed along his back as he hummed. “When I was told we were gonna have a ghost writer, I had no idea it was gonna be you.”

Tom and his dad (being an author) were collaborating on a book, a million dollar idea that’d been years in the making. Tom had stalled it, his dad told you out of simple insecurity. Now that the world was a stage, he was worried people would criticise his dyslexia with every line he wrote, that every stroke of his pen would reveal him as a rare type of monster that lacked intellect, he pondered that he wasn’t insightful enough in some way. His dad may have written a book about Tom outfaming him, but Tom felt like he’d always live in Dom’s shadow in this respect. Fresh from Oxford with an English Bachelor’s degree, Dom employed you to get grease on the gears to commence writing. Tom had always come out of his shell when you were around.

Your writing session lasted from 8 til noon, when Tom had promo with LadBible or Entertainment Weekly or whoever had bid the highest from his presence that day.

The door swung open and three men in all black and mics saddled around their waists called for and led Tom out of the room.

“Tom, session’s over. We need to get you to your BBC promo in 30 and we’re already running behind schedule.’ One cloaked Tom in a jacket you were sure was more expensive than your own home and another whispered something into a walkie talkie: “Holland is on the move. Check the back entrance is clear.” With that, Tom rose to his feet and left completely opposite of the way you came in. Without a word, no goodbye.

You and Dom left the building together around ten minutes later, where ten men with large cameras stood, lenses focused on you, glaring at you, not sure what to make of you. One of the men screams “Hey! You dating Tom Holland” and after that all you hear is clicks and all you see is bright flashing lights and Dom clenches your hand and leads you to your taxi cab.

The next time you see Tom is sooner than expected. The Hollands were hosting a last minute dinner party and you found yourself sitting opposite Tom, feeling his hard, hot and heavy gaze on you. The tension in the room was so thick not even a chainsaw cut through.

“Next topic,” You picked up a card from the deck and read it aloud. “Politics!” You said devilishly as you sip on what was left of the white wine in your cup, and now that your thought process is blurred; Tom’s longing gaze puts you at dismay.

“Fuck!” Harry exploded, and you hear their mother hiss. “Fuck I hate politics, there’s no making it out alive!” he remarked as he drummed on the table cloth, drunken excitement brewing a new energy in the room.

You go on like this for hours until dinner party is dinner party no more. And while Dom, Nikki and all of Tom’s siblings have chosen to exit stage left, it’s 1am and you and Tom have yet to leave the scene.

Tom sets down your deck of debate cards in favour of a genuine moment.

“What are you doing these days, Y/N?” Tom’s not looking at you, he’s looking at your knee as he rubs circles on it. You want to look down there too, see what he finds so intriguing; but you decide against it in fear you might spontaneously combust. You don’t know if this moment’s supposed to be intimate or innocent and you’re not sure if you want to find out.

So you put up a wall.

“I should be asking you the same thing, Holland.” You say sarcastically. “What have you been doing these days? I haven’t seen you around.” Your eyebrows scrunched up together but you’ve got a big, idiot grin on your face that’s more than telling. Tom giggles at your facetiousness.

Tom scratches his head in mock thought. He never clocks out, always putting on a show. “I don’t know - uh.” You’re laughing before Tom has even told the punchline, ‘cause I guess anything’s funny when it’s said by the one you love.”I’m kind of -” He snatches an old Spiderman comic off the floor. “I’m kinda doing this acting thing at the moment. Playing, y’know, this guy.”

“Well I wish you better luck in the future.” Tom has stopped rubbing circles but instead places his two hands on your knees as you rock back in laughter.

“I’m serious, Y/N. What do you do now?”

“Um.” You suddenly forgot your entire career as Tom, with no shade of subtlety, stares right into your soul. “I got my degree. I write like little stories, y’know? Have you ever heard of folklore?”

Tom shook his head.

“They’re like these little, old beautiful myths. And I write them for a living. And if I’m lucky, they get published in The Times. If I’m even luckier, I get to work with my old best friend - ” You feel your world stop temporarily as you call Tom your ‘best friend’ and you pause for all of 0.3 seconds to register Tom’s reaction but his face doesn’t flinch. “-Writing a book with him and his dad.” And that makes Tom smile. So he doesn’t have to tell you he missed you, you just know.

‘Undivided appearance’ and ‘undivided attention’ don’t necessarily mean the same thing in Hollywood as they do in real life, and you learn that the hard way in your writing session.

Tom may have been sat right next to you, but he was miles away. He was doing press with Cosmo, who hadn’t stopped tagging him with blue hearts on his Instagram, Twitter and Snapchat stories, causing his phone to go off every two seconds. You looked at the phone and then at him who then got the hint and put it on silent. Then there was a knock on the door. Tom rushed to open it, expecting that Dom had sent down a food delivery to egg you on finishing this chapter. You rehashed his childhood like a million times - in fact, you were part of it - so when it came to writing the parts that hurt, where you took a more supporting role in his life, you needed his help. The fact is, the knock at the door had come from one of Tom’s men (Tom liked to call him Man In Black no. 3) who hadn’t said as much as a ‘hi’ before he made his announcement. “Tom, you’re on the line with Cosmo in 10.” The man stepped back and pulled out his walkie talkie, “Holland knows he’s on the line with Cosmo at 10.” And then continued to pace around the hallway.

Cosmo called as he said they would and you almost felt for. second like tom might enjoy an entertainment magazine’s company more than yours. The interviewer made glaring comments and passive flirts at Tom who just blushed and chuckled and sipped his water like the woman on the phone calling him ‘hot’ was just too much to handle. At one point, she says: “What must it be like to grow up that beautiful, Tom? With your hair falling into place like dominoes.” You’re not expecting it when Tom tilts the phone so you’re in view. “Well I’m with the most beautiful being on Earth right now so..” Tom looks at you as if to ask ‘is this okay?” and you know it’s too late for these kind of questions, because that moment is headline fodder, so you smile not to make him feel bad for opening Pandora’s box. But Tom is merciless and likes to rub salt in the wound. “This is Y/N! Y/N’s helping me write the book with my Dad! We go way back.” He covers his mouth as soon as he says it. “Shit! They’re not supposed to know about the book yet.”

This is the moment, you think, where you believe when they say your first love is the one you never let go.

And you can’t think of anything purer than the love you have for him.

Tom thinks being on land is boring. He likes being strung from chords 30 feet in the air, and drowning in despair through scenes of emotional turmoil. You want to tell him you’re an arrow from Cupid’s bow about to reach him, but you couldn’t recover from the splinters if Tom shut you down. After all, Tom was a gold rush. A treasure that everyone had discovered but nobody owned. How precious is a jewel that anybody could take home with them?

Tom had invited you to a visit to Brighton with him, a city near the coast, for some inspiration on writing his section of the book. 

You accepted. And because you did, you found yourself at the beginning of the end, on Tom’s boat in Brighton. “We don’t have to talk about the book right now.” Tom throws a stack of blue tinted paper on the floor. His dyslexia meant that spelling and reading was so much easier when done on blue pages, and you could only guess that was the reason the body of water around you brought him so much peace. So when you saw that something might compromise your best boy’s happiness, you point it out. To give Tom a little bit of time to exit before things got ugly.

“Tom, I see someone in the bushes.”

“Yeah. It’s a pap.” Tom mumbled nonchalantly. 

“They’re here to get pictures of me,” He turned to face you. “and you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, the fans ship us. Think we’d be a good couple after that Cosmo stunt. We would have been a good couple when we were like, 18.” He laughs.

“Huh, yeah.” You look down.

“The best one around.” And you can’t tell if he’s serious.

You rip off one of his blue sheets. “I’m coming. I got hit with inspo.” And you trail to a different section of the boat. A very obvious click of the camera from a shrub nearby coaxes your pen to write without a second thought, How is he so accustomed to this? Fake private moments, protected by sheer glass curtains?

You scrunched your paper, well his paper, into a ball. 

Your mind had turned his life into folklore. You weren’t sure if that was crossing a line, so you just put the ball into your bag and hide it until he hits you with the spark again.

“Let me see it.” Tom says.

“No.”

“You ran off to write it and won’t let me see it?” 

You held your bag at your hip in defence. “No, Tom. Drop it.” 

Tom’s face drops a little bit, but then he reaches into his own bag and reveals a deck of your debate cards. “I know what will cheer you up, good ol’ Y/N.” He sets a card on the wooden table between you two. 

“Do you believe in a higher power?”

You toyed with the pendant around your neck which revealed your faith. “Do you?”

“I don’t. But I believe in soulmates.”

You look to the left to really ponder on what Tom is saying, and a paparazzis captures another photo of you in the corner of your eye.

“And you don’t think there’s a higher power that manufactures our souls to make our soulmates?”

Tom feigns a scowl. “That’s ridiculous.”

You scoffed. “How very contrarian of you.”

“What the fuck does that mean.”

“It means you contradict yourself, Thomas.” You laugh as he holds his chest in fake hurt.

“Are you implying I’m anything less than perfect?”

“Never.”

Never. Because you didn’t believe that to be true. 

“Good. Cause you’d have to be punished.” Tom picks you up and throws you in the water below before jumping in with you.

On your way home you stop at the yours and Tom’s writing booth, scavenging through your bag to drop off Tom’s notepad, some scrunched up blue and white papers you and Tom thought could still help you write his book. You’d made an addition to your love-hazed scribblings about Tom and reckon you’d die if he found it. You managed to throw the other in the water, excusing yourself with “It’s utterly awful.”, to which you and Tom agreed you wouldn’t throw any more paper in the ocean cause the poor fish already had it hard enough.

You and Tom had a session the next day. Tom was excited for the day, and you could tell because he’d given his phone to one of his big babysitters for the time he had you.

“I think that’s all of yours.” You and Tom made a business out of unscrunching your paper balls to see if they had any useful ideas. You were certain you reached the end of Tom’s. All of his notes had ‘T.H’ written on the back in big and were scribed on blue paper. When it came to your little ‘secret admirer’ notes you weren’t worried - you had an English degree and were quick to think on your feet and was ready to make something up when it came to opening it. 

“No, this one’s mine.” He’s confident, so you let him have it. He goes to pick up your tea and then realises it’s nowhere near warm, and was the one you made for yourself when you crept in yesterday evening. Tom has a smile on his face, and then he doesn’t. Before he goes to read it aloud, his eyes tell you he’s reading it again and again and again. “At dinner parties, I’ll call you out on your contrarian shit, and the coastal towns we wondered round will never see a love as pure as it.”

The look on Tom’s face gives you the splinters. He tries to look at you but you know he can’t. You don’t blame him. You can’t look at him either. “I really thought this was a good friendship.”

You hum and nod your head in agreement, pull your lips into a thin straight line as streaks of tears abandon your eyes. This was worse than Tom rubbing salt in your wounds. He’s rubbing dirt in your painful fucking gashes and you are reminded of why this didn’t work before, why it will never be.

And you wouldn’t dare to dream about him anymore.

Masterlist

Upcoming Works

[stellarboystyles]

serendipity

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

7k pining, fluff and smut

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

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

“Need a lift, sprout?”

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

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

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

“Found it!”

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

“Okay, let me down.” 

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

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

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

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

“What d’ya need the book for?”

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

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

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

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

“Shhh!”

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

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

“So it’s like an essay?”

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

“So, like a review.”

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

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

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

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

“Tuesday.”

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

“Ready?”  

He nods again. “Yeah, let’s go.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My ego...it hurts.”

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

“You’re such a little shit.” 

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

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

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

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

“What.”

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

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

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

“Whatever you want.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Neither of them really remember. 

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

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

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

“I hold her?”

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

“I pet?”

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

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

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

“They’ll be best friends for sure.” 

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

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

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

“Night Night, baby.” 

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

“Or that you had a crush on me.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can we kiss now?” 

She thinks for a moment before speaking.

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

“Won’t tell anyone, not even Niall.”

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

“Really?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll find him.”

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

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

“Harry!”

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

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

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

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

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

“I need you.” 

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

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

“What about your dad?”

“He’ll get over it.”

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

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

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

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

“True.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Harry, can you come down please?”

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

He rushes downstairs, finding her in the kitchen. 

“Mum? What's wrong?”

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

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

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

Harry’s face falls.

“Oh God, Mum—”

“I know, baby, I know.”

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

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

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

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

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

Locked.

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

“Y/N!” 

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

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

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

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

“Are you excited for NYU?”

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

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

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

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

“Harry.” she warns.

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

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

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

“We make a good team.”

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

“Yeah, we do, don’t we?”

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

Her.

Admire her.

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

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

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

Touch her. 

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

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

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

Adore her.

Cherish her. 

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

“Guess who.”

“Uh...Bigfoot?”

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

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

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

“Just a little.” she winks. 

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

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

“Nooo, lemme see!”

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

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

“S’just me.” 

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

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

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

Were they going to kiss?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s so adorable, he thinks to himself. 

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

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

“Can we get—”

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

“We had that last weekend.” 

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

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

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

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

“I love chow mein so much.” 

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

She’s just so fucking cute.

“I love you so much.”

“What?”

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

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

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

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

“You stuck?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“At least I know how to use chopsticks.” 

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

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

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

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

“Okay, so you hold them like this…”

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

Friday, October 12

Dear Diary, 

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

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

Harry is calling…

“Hello?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“ Okay...can you bring some snacks?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Losing each other.”

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

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

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

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

Three hours later

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

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

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

“You’re making me crave nachos.” 

“You always crave nachos.”

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

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

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

“Okay.”

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

“Sleepy?”

“Mhm.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I ask you somethin’?” 

To which she nods. “Of course.”

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

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

“Yeah. Yeah, like kismet.”

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

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

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

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

“You guys are so drunk.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Shut up, you’re drunk.”

“M’not, m’serious.”

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

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

“Hey Y/N, guess what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Friday, October 12

Dear Diary, 

Shit.

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

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

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

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

All the color drains from Harry’s face. 

“Is she talking about me?” he murmurs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He listens to his heart.

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

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

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

“I can go with you if you want-”

“No, s’okay! Be back in fifteen.”

And he’s gone.

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

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

It was Harry’s handwriting.

Hi lovie, it’s Harry. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Love, H. x 

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

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

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

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

“I read it.”

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

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

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

“I...I love you.”

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

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

“I love you too.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just feel my touch.”

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

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

“Feels so good, Harry.” 

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

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

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

“Whatcha need, tell me darlin’.”

“M’gonna come, m’gonna come.”

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

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

“Did you like that?”

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

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

[kozumekenza]

house of memories :: three

:: kageyama tobio x f!reader :: playlist :: masterlist ::

:: taglist: open :: wc: 2.0k ::

the last you had heard of kageyama tobio, he was following his grandfather’s footsteps and leaving you behind to join the syndicate. a chance meeting throws him back into your life, along with all of the memories.

tw: mafia elements, profanity, blood, discussion of kidnapping

Dinner is a quiet affair, the three of you sitting in the penthouse’s dining room while a personal chef serves you. The food is delicious, and for a moment, you’re yet again jealous of Kageyama for having all of this at his disposal. Pre-packaged bentos and junk food are the norm for you, so you would kill to have a personal chef. 

“So, y/n, what are you up to now?” Miwa spears a piece of chicken with her fork as she speaks, her eyes locked on you.

You can’t help the smile that comes to your face. “I’m sure you already know.”

She has the foresight to look slightly disappointed. “True, but I want to hear it from you.”

You sigh, taking another bite. “I’m in college at Tokyo University, just started my fourth year. Going pre-med. My best friend is finishing up nursing school. I intern at a research lab on campus, but that’s about it for extracurriculars. Most of my time is spent doing homework and applying to medical school now, anyway.”

“Fun, I guess?”

You shake your head. “Not at all.”

Miwa tilts her head. “Why do you do it, then?”

Contemplating, you pause for a second. Why are you doing all of this? “I want to be a doctor, and these are just the steps for getting there. I do what I have to do.”

She nods in understanding. “You need a break sometime, though. We should hangout sometime, go shopping and whatnot.”

Kageyama, who has been silent during the entire conversation, finally speaks. “You just want to spend my money.”

Miwa reaches across the table to swat at her brother, who avoids her hand by quickly sliding his chair back. “So what if I do? You have so much of it and you never do anything with it. Someone needs to put it to good use, and I’m sure y/n and I can do that.”

Kageyama accepts his defeat with a blank stare. “Fine.”

Miwa squeals in delight and you laugh along with her. “When are you free? I spotted this gorgeous Balmain dress that I’ve had my eye on for awhile, and last time I was in Versace, I found this beautiful zip-up mini, but I didn’t like how it looked on me. I think you would look amazing in it!”

You give her an incredulous look. “I’m free tomorrow, but I’m not quite sure that I could afford that.”

Miwa gasps. “Don’t worry about that, we’re using Tobio’s money.”

The man in question just sighs.

“I couldn’t use his money-”

“Just do it.” Your eyes snap to Kageyama, who seems ready to say anything for this conversation to be over.

“There’s no way, I-”

“Just use the money, y/n. Miwa’s right anyway, I really have too much money that I’ll never use. I’ll give you my black card.”

Your eyes widen. “I really can’t let you do that.”

“Y/n, I have three billion dollars sitting in an account that I never touch. I can afford a shopping spree for you and my sister.”

You truly can’t believe that you’re sitting in front of a billionaire. You figured Kageyama was rich, but this rich? You want to ask him how he did it (you know the answer) or if he can pay for your medical school tuition instead, but what comes out of your mouth is: “Three billion?”

“Yes. Consider it an apology for this mess I’ve gotten you into.” He takes out his wallet and slides a card across the table. “If there isn’t at least a hundred thousand missing from the account, I’ll custom order something for you.” He stands, turning towards the stairs, leaving you slack-jawed and stunned. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some work to finish up. Y/n, I’m sure I’ll see you tomorrow when Miwa inevitably drags you back here to try on everything.”

Speechless, you turn to Miwa, who looks smug and delighted. When you finally regain the ability to talk, all you can do is pick up the weighted credit card and whisper, “What the fuck.”

---

The next day, you step outside of your apartment and see a nondescript black sedan parked on the street. You laugh a little to yourself before snapping a pic and messaging it to Kageyama with the caption “you won’t even know they’re there, he said”.

---

When Miwa picks you up in her Lexus after your morning lab, it’s with a coffee and croissant in hand. You sink into the seat, sipping your coffee as she drives off. 

“Thank you so much. I can’t believe you remembered my coffee order after all this time.”

She grins sheepishly. “It was in the file.”

“S-Seriously?” you sputter, “He has that kind of shit in my file?”

“He has all sorts of shit in that file.”

You shake your head. “At least if I get kidnapped, they’ll know my coffee order.”

“Hey, about that,” Miwa parks and turns to look at you, “are you alright? I know it’s probably pretty scary, knowing that someone has all that information about you and could use it against you at any moment.”

“I think I’m alright. I mean, I knew it would always be a possibility.”

“Okay, I just wanted to make sure. If you ever need to talk about it, you have my number.”

You give her a smile. “Thank you, Miwa.”

“Of course. Now let’s go shopping.”

---

You’re starting to question how Kageyama has any money at all. Miwa is a menace when shopping, dragging you from store to store, every clerk greeting her by name and suggesting anything new they have to fit her tastes. She was right, her Balmain dress is gorgeous, and you tell her so when she models it for you. She brings you to Versace to show you the zip-up mini, and you immediately fall in love. It’s a gorgeous dress, black with gold accents. 

Paying for it, however, is another story. You feel so guilty when you hand over the black card, you almost tell the clerk that you’ve changed your mind. The only thing that stops you is Miwa standing next to you, her eyes encouraging you and reminding you that if you don’t spend the money, Kageyama will do it for you.

“Do you wanna stay over tonight? Tobio’s working late, and I’ve honestly missed spending time with you. You’ve always been like a little sister to me.”

Miwa’s words take you by surprise. You always thought that she hated you after you walked away from Kageyama, but her actions so far have shown the complete opposite. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you guys.”

“Of course I’m sure.” Her smile is bright as she leads you to the next store. “We have two guest rooms in the penthouse, and I want to have a girls night.”

“That honestly sounds amazing.” Hana’s on night shift again tonight, and you would much rather spend your evening with Miwa than in an empty apartment.

“Great, I’m glad.” Miwa’s smile disappears as she browses a rack of blouses. “Honestly, I don’t have that many friends. It’s hard to keep them, doing what we do, and I’m always with Tobio anyway. It’s so nice to have a girl to talk to.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. This is probably the first time I’ve hung out with a friend in over a year.” Miwa’s sadness shows in her eyes, and you feel awful for her. She’s always there for her brother, putting him before herself. 

You pull her in for a hug. “I don’t want to say that I’m glad the files were hacked, but I am glad that you are back in my life again.”

“Me too.”

---

Somehow, Miwa convinces you to get matching silk robes for your girls’ night, along with enough skincare and spa products to last for weeks. You’re exhausted by the time you’re finally done shopping, satisfied with your purchases but still feeling slightly guilty. The numerous shopping bags are put into the car, and soon enough, you’re heading back to the penthouse.

When you arrive, the sun has already set, and she ushers you into her bedroom to try on everything you bought, just as Kageyama predicted. All in all, you made out pretty well, with two purses, two pairs of Louboutins (one pair for Hana, of course), numerous clubbing outfits, and some nicer clothes for med school interviews. Miwa claps and cheers as you twirl and spin, gushing over your new outfits. 

“You look so gorgeous, y/n.”

This time, she’s referring to the robe that matches hers. It’s truly an extravagant thing, long and flowing with silk and lace. It feels nonexistent on your skin, and you think that if you had to pick one thing to wear for the rest of your life, it would be this. 

“Thank you.” You’re blushing slightly as you twirl in front of the mirror. You’ve never worn anything like this before.

“Just wait ‘til Tobio comes home and sees you in it.”

Your head snaps up and your cheeks turn bright red as you rush over to a giggling Miwa, clapping a hand over her mouth. “Don’t say things like that.”

You remove your hand slowly, and immediately regret it. “Why? It’s true. He’s probably going to blush as hard as you are right now and spend the rest of the night in his room, avoiding you.”

Rolling your eyes, you reply, “No he won’t.”

“Uh, yeah, he will.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes! He’s still in love with you! Of course he’s gonna go crazy!”

“He’s what?” You’re in disbelief, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. It’s hard to believe that Kageyama would love any part of you after you left when he announced his move to Tokyo and his future plans. 

Miwa puts her hand on your shoulder, looking you in the eyes. “He still loves you, y/n. He never stopped.”

“How is that even possible? I left him.”

“Oh, babe.” She leads you to sit on the edge of her bed as you wipe your eyes. “He never blamed you for that, not once. He knew that you weren’t going to be able to be with him when he told you. He’s kept an eye on you for the past four years because he can’t let you go. I kept telling him that he couldn’t keep it up forever, but then you were in the club that night, and I swear, it was fate. Y’know,” she chuckles lightly, “that night, after he saw you, he came straight up here and sat on the couch for hours, staring out the window. When I finally finished my shift and came up, he was crying. You can’t tell anyone though, because he’s supposed to be this big bad guy and all,” she waves her hand, “but that was the most emotional I’ve seen him in years.”

“Really?” Your voice breaks when you speak, and your tears haven’t stopped. 

“Yes. He’s always loved you, and although the circumstances aren’t ideal, I think it’s wonderful that you’re back in his life again.”

You nod. “I missed him, and I still love him, but I don’t know if I can be with him. This is all still so unfamiliar to me, and it’s scary. I have to figure out if it’s worth it.”

Miwa rubs small circles on your back. “I know. Take as much time as you need. I’m just glad you’re here, and I know Tobio is too.”

---

After the emotional rollercoaster in Miwa’s bedroom, you two went downstairs to the living area, ordering takeout and putting on face masks. You lounged on the couch, eating ramen and watching k-dramas until late in the evening. You didn’t ask when Kageyama would be home; you simply enjoyed your time with Miwa. It was nice, spending time with someone that you once considered a sister. You were thrilled that you could hopefully regain that relationship with her. 

At around eleven, the elevator dings, signaling someone’s arrival. 

Your jaw drops as Kageyama Tobio stumbles into the penthouse, one hand clutching his bleeding chest, as he passes out in the foyer.

taglist: @lilith412426​ 

[angelicamerlinbarnes]

Five times Mcgonogall had to deal with the Marauders being dumbasses about feelings and the one time one of them had it all figured out (alternatively titled: Slytherins may be morally challenged but at least they’re not as thick as warthogs)

1) James [Two Birds - Regina Spektor]

Mcgonogall gets woken up at four in the morning by a panicking James Potter in fourth year. She opens the door only a crack and he shoves his way in before she can even invite him in (which she still hadn’t fully decided she was going to do at all). He plops himself down in her chair, slams his hands down on her desk, and says, “So I kissed Sirius.”

Mcgonogall raises an eyebrow. James flushes bright red and starts sputtering out an explanation, “No, Minnie, you don’t understand, he’s my best friend, I love him, he’s brilliant, I think I wanna snog him for the rest of my life but he’s a fucking boy, Minnie -” Mcgonogall holds up her hand. James shuts his mouth.

“Mr. Potter,” she starts. “I have watched you and Mr. Black dance around each other for years. There is no doubt in my mind that the two of you were meant to find each other, in whatever way. The fact that you are both boys is irrelevant.” James takes a moment to absorb this, then squeaks, “Then why do I still like girls?”

Mcgonogall sighs. “You can like both, Jamie. It doesn’t have to be one or the other.” James blushes. “Oh,” he says, and then, “Lily Evans is really pretty.”

Mcgonogall sighs again. “I’m aware you think so, Mr. Potter. I’m also aware she’s dating Severus Snape.” James’ pink cheeks pale again, and he looks down. “Oh,” he says again, and then, “Should I kiss Sirius again, Miss?” Mcgonogall shrugs.

“You should do whatever makes you happy,” she answers, holding open the door. “Now off to bed with you, Mr. Potter. There’s only so many hours til the morning.” James considers this for a moment, then nods slowly, walking over and standing in the doorway.

“Mr. Potter?” She asks at his hesitation, and he suddenly turns and wraps his arms around her waist, burying his face in her robes. “Thanks, Minnie,” he mumbles, and she brushes a shocked hand once through his curls before he pulls back with a blush and runs off down the hall.

As soon as Mcgonogall’s closed the door, Severus pokes his head out from her study.

“Gryffindors, amiright?” He says, cracking a smile, and she raises an unimpressed eyebrow.

“I am a Gryffindor, Mr. Snape.” Severus just raises an eyebrow right back.

Mcgonogall sighs, lifting her skirts and heading back to her study. “But yes, yes, I suppose you’re right. Now, the next step of becoming an Animagus is…”

2) Peter [Soldier, Poet, King - The Oh Hellos]

Peter’s serving a detention with Mcgonogall when she notices he’s been quiet. Instead of “accidentally” messing up his tasks in the funniest ways he can muster, he’s simply doing his work quietly. He’s not even muttering to himself or singing. So, being the awesome person she is, she asks him what’s wrong.

Peter shrugs, not answering. She waits. A minute passes and he sighs, looking up at her with glassy eyes. “I don’t think my friends care about me.”

Mcgonogall wrinkles her nose. “What on earth gives you that idea?” She asks, and Peter shrugs, ducking his head down again. “Mr. Pettigrew. Why do you think your friends don’t care about you?”

Peter exhales heavily, but looks back up and answers. “Because they’re not here! Because I’m just their scapegoat! Because I’m not smart like Remus or charming like Sirius or brave like James or funny like all of them, I’m just the roommate they think they need to include. I’m - I’m expendable.” He spits the last word, throwing down the book he was about to put away and stomping towards the door.

Calmly, Mcgonogall says, “You’re an idiot, Peter.”

Peter freezes, turning around with a flushed face. “What?” He asks, and Mcgonogall sighs.

“I have seen many a clique in all my years of teaching. I know what real friendship looks like and I know the lack of it just the same. I know how to tell when one person cares about another and when to intervene. I know when true friends have been made. And you, Mr. Pettigrew, are one of the most beloved students I have ever had the fortune to meet. Most notably by those three boys you think are constantly leaving you behind, when really they’re always looking over their shoulders to check if you’re still there.”

Peter flushes red. He ducks his head, but not before she sees his smile. “Thanks, Professor,” he mutters, and she nods once, sharply, and waves her hand in dismissal.

“Report back tomorrow for your next detention. And bring those blithering idiots with you.” Peter beams, skipping out the door with a wave.

As soon as Peter’s left, Mcgonogall spins her chair to the side and looks down at Severus, sitting on the floor beside her desk with his legs splayed out in front of him and his nose buried in a book.

“So?” She asks. “What do you think? Gryffindor stupidity or Marauder stupidity?”

Severus snorts. “Honestly? Both. I mean, at least he has friends.” He turns a page and then freezes, suddenly realizing what he’s just admitted. He looks up at her and blinks owlishly, to which Mcgonogall waves a hand in dismissal.

“Nonsense. You have Miss Evans. And me, of course.”

Severus blushes. “Lily’s been distant, lately - wait, did you just say we’re friends?”

Mcgonogall raises her eyebrow. “Well you did always get on well with Gryffindors.”

Severus blinks. Then his eyes start to glisten and he smiles into his book. “Oh. Thanks.”

Mcgonogall pats his head and kisses it just for a single second as she stands and passes by him into her study. She’ll have to tell Albus about this at teatime.

3) Remus [Into The Open Air - Julie Fowlis]

A knock comes to Mcgonogall’s door over Christmas break in fifth year. It’s so late even she isn’t really awake, but she walks over anyway, grumbling as she steps over Severus’ sleeping form, curled on the floor over some books.

“Yes?”

She opens the door to a rumpled Remus Lupin, on the verge of tears and yet ever so polite as he manages to choke out, “May I speak with you, please?”

The last word is barely out of his mouth before he’s crying. He tries to cover his face as she puts a hand on his back and gently guides him inside, helping him settle into the chair in front of her desk. She Accios him some tissues and a mug of cocoa, and he sniffles out a thank you, desperately trying to get himself under control as he weeps.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” he finally manages. “I know it’s late, I just -” Mcgonogall holds up a hand to stop him.

“Mr. Lupin,” she says. “When a student of mine shows up at my door in tears, the time is not my first concern.” Remus flushes, ducking his head to his lap. He sniffs, then makes to stand.

“Well. Thank you. I’d, um, best be going now -”

“Remus.”

Remus freezes. “As I have never seen you cry before, forgive me if I’m hesitant to let you leave without hearing your reason for doing so.” Remus sniffs again. He stays still for a moment before sighing, wilting back into the chair. He takes a deep breath, then rasps, “I’m in love with Sirius.”

For a moment, there is only silence. Then, Mcgonogall clears her throat. “I see,” she says, slowly. “May I ask when exactly you came to this conclusion?”

Remus’ face nearly crumples again, but he catches it at the last minute, hands fidgeting in his lap as he mumbles, “Um - fuck. Uh, third year? Maybe? Ish?”

Mcgonogall’s eyes widen. Without an excuse to keep talking, Remus collapses back into tears. Mcgonogall watches him for a moment before murmuring, “This is about Sirius and James.”

Remus flinches. Mcgonogall shoves the tissue box towards him again and he sniffles, taking one.

“Yeah,” he finally says. “I was, um. I was trying to deal with it, y’know, on my own, but there’s only so much of watching the love of my fucking life make out with my best friend that I can take and so I - I kind of thought I’d talk to you because I don’t really have any other friends and I’d rather nobody know because I don’t want them to fucking pity me, I hate when people pity me, but I, um - anyway, I came here now because they’re on break and they won’t ask so many questions about why I was here cause they won’t know and I just -”

He rambles on, but Mcgonogall can’t much process what he’s saying, as half of it is in Welsh seemingly without Remus’ knowledge and all she can think about is every single interaction Remus and Sirius have ever had in front of her and how - wow, oh Merlin, she really should’ve seen that, huh?

“That must suck,” she interrupts his rambling with, unable to stop herself before the words escape, and Remus shuts his mouth with a snap and then nods, wincing and blinking back more tears.

“Yeah, it’s… it’s not fun,” he says softly. “Anyway, um, I - I know I can’t do anything about it, okay?” She raises an eyebrow and Remus flushes, ducking his head again. “I know that they love each other and they’re happy and I would be a pretty selfish person if I decided to ruin all of that for no reason other than my stupid fucking feelings. Besides, it’s not like I could make Sirius love me anyways, so it’d all just be a gigantic waste of time.”

Mcgonogall hums. “But?”

Remus’ shoulders slump and he buries his face in his hands. “But,” he mumbles, “sometimes I just hate them for it. Because why should they get to be so fucking happy? Because why do I have to be so fucking miserable? Because I don’t know what I did to deserve all the shit I’ve been through, but clearly I did something. Because… because…” He pauses, a last, single tear falling down his cheek like a shooting star. “Because I’m a half-blood queer werewolf covered in ugly scars who will never be able to find a steady job or afford a comfortable home and I’ve spent a lot of time questioning whether it was even worth it to keep going but I always thought of him, y’know? Because if he was still there I’d be okay. But he’s… he’s not gonna be, because he and James are gonna get married and they’re gonna have like fifty million kids and they’re gonna move away and I’m just gonna be here, a homeless werewolf whoring himself out to get by because I’ll just never fucking have anything better.”

They are quiet for a very long time. Finally, Mcgonogall takes a deep breath and reaches forward to grasp his hand.

“You will always have me,” she says solemnly, looking into his sad, sad eyes. “You will always have a home here, with me. I can’t promise you Sirius or children or even a job, but I can promise that you will always be loved by me.”

Remus cracks a small smile. His eyes are still dead, but she can see the tiniest spark amid the embers. “Thanks, Minnie,” he whispers, and stands. “Goodnight.”

Mcgonogall nods, watching him leave. “Goodnight, Mr. Lupin. Come back any time.”

“Sirius loves him back, you know.”

Mcgonogall turns her head towards her bedroom, where a sleepy, frumpled Severus holds himself up against the door with a hand, his hair sticking up all over the place.

“Oh?” She says, and he shrugs, trudging over to her desk and picking up Remus’ unfinished hot cocoa and chugging it down.

“Yeah,” he rasps, wiping at his mouth. “Not that he knows it yet, but. ‘S kinda hard to miss, those two.”

Mcgonogall nods, slowly. She asks, “And how would you know this, Severus?”

Severus flushes, shrugging. “The way he looks at him.” Mcgonogall raises her eyebrow.

“What about it?”

Severus goes from pink to red, mumbling into the mug in his hands. “It’s the same way Lily looks at me and James,” he murmurs. “And the same way James looks at her. Well, her and…”

He ducks his head, pursing his lips. Mcgonogall lowers one eyebrow and raises the other. “Her and…?”

“Me,” Severus answers, soft. “The way James looks at her and me.”

Mcgonogall is quiet for a moment. Finally she hums, standing from her chair and heading back towards her study.

“You’d best be on your way, Mr. Snape,” she says. “You’ve not slept in a bed in nearly a week.” Severus nods, still flushed, and escapes into the hallway with only three of her books hidden under his cloak.

4) Lily [Touch The Sky - Julie Fowlis]

Mcgonogall is in the middle of a critical lesson to her first years when the doors of her classroom burst open and Lily storms in, her eyes steely as she stares Mcgonogall down. “A moment, Professor, if you please?” She says, and Mcgonogall raises an eyebrow.

“I am teaching a class, Miss Evans -” Lily’s eye twitches. At the sight, Mcgonogall’s brow furrows, and she sighs. “Very well. I expect nine inches on the importance of intent when transfiguring an object next class - oh, and your best attempt at doodling a giraffe while you’re at it.”

The students all file out with nervous glances towards Lily and Mcgonogall. When the last one trickles out, Mcgonogall waves her hand and shuts all the doors with an impressive display of wandless magic before raising her eyebrow and nodding towards the chair in front of her desk. “Well, Miss Evans? What did you need to speak with me so badly about that you felt the need to completely derail an incredibly important introductory lesson to my first years?”

Lily collapses into the chair and sinks into herself, shaking her head and burying her face in her hands. Mcgonogall sighs. “Miss Evans -”

“Don’t call me that,” Lily rasps. “Don’t call me that, I’m not - I’m not a Miss.”

Mcgonogall raises an eyebrow. “What are you, then?” She asks carefully, and Lily sighs. After a moment of useless fidgeting, Lily says, “Mr. I’m a Mr.”

Mcgonogall nods slowly, considering this. “Well then, Mr. Evans,” she drawls, “will that be all?”

Lily flushes bright red, then shakes his head. “Um, I - I’m a boy, right? And it’s weird for a boy to be called Lily, right? That’s weird, right?”

Mcgononall purses her lips, lacing her fingers together in front of her. Lily watches her anxiously. “I don’t think it’s weird at all, actually,” she finally answers, and Lily lets out a loud breath of air.

“Oh,” he says, curling in on himself. “So if I still wanna be called Lily, that’s - that’s okay? I can do that?” Mcgonogall nods.

“You can be called whatever you like, Lily,” she says. “Mr. Evans. Whatever you like.” Lily smiles for a moment, flushing happily, before frowning again.

“But what about Severus?” He asks in a small voice. “What will he think of his girlfriend being his boyfriend?”

Mcgonogall leans back in her chair, considering this. She glances down at the empty spot next to her, where Severus would be if he were not in class this morning. She purses her lips and carefully answers, “I think that if Severus truly loves you, which all evidence points to, then he will not stop for such an insignificant revelation.”

Lily grins down at his lap, cheeks pinkening, and nods. “Thank you, Professor,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry for interrupting your lesson.”

Mcgonogall waves away his concern as he stands and heads for the door. “No matter. You can make it up to me with tea on Sunday. Oh, and Lily, dear?”

Lily looks up, hand on the door, and smiles. “Yes?”

Mcgonogall smirks. “I daresay Mr. Potter will not mind either.”

Lily turns the color of his hair and nods spastically before disappearing into the fray of students just dismissed.

“Lily cut his hair today,” Severus greets her with when he arrives that afternoon, weighed down by the tons of books in his arms. He dumps them on a nearby desk and makes his way over to her desk, picking up a quill and some parchment and settling in the chair across from her. “It’s all short and frayed and soft. He looks handsome.”

Mcgonogall hums. “Did you tell him that?” She asks as she summons them some tea, smiling at the way Severus hisses when it hits his tongue (he’s always had a bad habit of forgetting to blow before sipping).

“Of course I did,” he says, still scribbling. “He’s my boyfriend. It’s my job to make him happy, and if sweet compliments that make my teeth rot are what make him happy, then fuck my embarrassment, I guess.” Mcgonogall nods, pleased.

“What a gentleman you are,” she drawls, then takes a sip of her tea and asks, “What are you writing?” Severus freezes, then looks up at her with wide eyes.

“Just a list,” he finally says softly. “Of all the things I want to do before this war kills me.”

Alarmed, Mcgonogall coughs, beating her chest lightly as she sets her tea down. “You will not die in this war, Severus,” she says, her hands shaking. “None of you will.”

Severus shrugs and answers quietly, “With all due respect, Professor, we’re all going to die in this war, whether it be now or later.”

Mcgonogall feels her eyes sting with tears but pushes them back, shaking her head. “No,” she rasps. “No, none of you will die in this war. It will be finished before you leave the confines of this school.” Severus smiles sadly at her, shaking his head as he returns to his list.

“Sorry, ma’am. But half of my House have already sworn their loyalty to Voldemort, and soon enough others will be forced into it. Myself, Regulus, and Sirius among them.” Mcgonogall draws in a sharp breath. Quick as a whip, she tears the list from Severus’ hand and throws him a new parchment.

“Here,” she says. “Make a new list. Names of everyone you know with that wretched Mark, and anyone who’s thinking of it. I don’t care what House, you let me know. You bring me that list when it’s finished and I’ll take care of it. I’ll take care of you, Severus. All of you.”

Severus stares for a moment, dark eyes unseeing, before ducking his head to the parchment, writing slower than before. Clear names begin to come into view: Sirius Potter. Regulus Black. Lucius Malfoy. Bellatrix Black. Narcissa Black. Mulciber, Avery, Dolohov… The list goes on and on until finally Severus finishes with a final flourish of his trembling hand, Severus Snape.

He then hands the list to Mcgonogall, who smiles thinly. “Thank you, Severus,” she murmurs, and he smiles wryly.

“Thank you, Professor,” he answers, and leaves in a hurry, forgetting his books on the way out.

5) Sirius [First Man - Camila Cabello]

Mcgonogall is making her rounds around the castle one night in sixth year when she hears the sound of someone crying. She wanders until she finds the source of the noise - Sirius Potter, his knees pulled to his chest as he stares into the Mirror of Erised.

Mcgonogall drinks him in - his bruised eyes, his sunken cheeks, his shaking hands - and murmurs, “Mr. Potter, it’s late.” Sirius flinches. He stands in a hurry and brushes himself off, wiping at his eyes as he pushes past her.

“Of course, Professor. I’ll just be heading to bed now -”

She grasps his arm, making him pause. He bites his lip, and she swallows.

“You’ll do no such thing,” she murmurs, as gently as she can. “Come with me, Mr. Potter.” He winces again, but follows her soundlessly, hunched over like he’s trying to make himself as small as possible. When they reach her classroom, she moves wordlessly to her desk and settles in her chair, gesturing to the chair in front of her as Sirius closes the door behind him hesitantly. “Please sit, Mr. Potter,” she says, and Sirius flinches so violently this time she worries he might snap in half.

“Don’t call me that,” he hisses, and for a moment she’s transported back to that conversation with Lily all those months ago. “Don’t call me that, please. I… I don’t deserve it.”

Mcgonogall raises an eyebrow. “You don’t deserve to be called by your own name?” She asks, and Sirius withers like a dying flower into the chair in front of her.

“No,” he finally says, softly. “It’s not my name, Professor. That name belongs to my ex-boyfriend. My name is Black.”

Mcgonogall’s other eyebrow raises in surprise. She hums. “Ex-boyfriend?”

Sirius shrugs, wrapping his arms around himself. “After I hurt Moony - Remus, Jamie socked me in the jaw and told me I wasn’t a Marauder anymore. Was caught makin’ out with Evans and Snivellus soon enough anyway. He hasn’t spoken to me in months - I can take a hint, Professor. I may be a stupid, dumb, moronic piece of shit that doesn’t deserve to live, but if there’s one thing I know, it’s how to tell when somebody stops loving me.”

Mcgonogall feels her heart break open in her chest and stems it with white hot rage - for Remus, for James, for Severus, and, despite everything, for Sirius.

“You are not dumb, or stupid, or moronic,” she says slowly, lacing her fingers together in front of her. “And you’re certainly not a piece of shit. Impulsive and reckless at times, yes, but you’re not worthless. Trust me, Sirius, I’ve met worthless people, and they are nothing like you. Your life means something.”

Sirius laughs. Mcgonogall has never heard such an unhappy sound in her life.

“With all due respect, Professor, I’m the worst fuck-up anyone’s seen in generations,” he snarks. “I’m the disowned disgrace of the Black family who fucks boys and wears dresses and falls in love with poncy tossers and half-blood werewolves whose deepest secrets I give away like a fucking Death Eater spy. I’m the most worthless kind of person there is.”

Mcgonogall pushes her chair back, stands, and makes quick strides around the desk and over to Sirius, pulling him against her chest.

“You are beautiful,” she whispers, right into his ear. “You are smart. You are kind. You are brave. You are selfless. You are funny. You are brilliant. But above all, Sirius, you are good.” Feeling him start to tremble against her, her robes beginning to dampen, she musters up a smile, feeling her own tears well up as she runs her fingers through his hair.

“You are my favorite student, Sirius Padfoot Potter Lupin,” she whispers as he sobs. “You are James Potter’s favorite person, and Regulus Black’s favorite brother. You are Remus Lupin’s favorite friend and you are everyone’s favorite Gryffindor. You are one of the best souls in this world and we would all be devastated to lose you.”

Sirius sniffles against her chest. “Really?” He blubbers, and she kisses the top of his head.

“Really,” she answers, and he laughs into her robes. He mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like I love you and she says, “What was that?”

Flushing, he pulls back, shaking his head and wiping away his tears. “Thank you, Minnie,” he says shyly, and she nods, smiling and squeezing his hand.

“Anytime, love. Would you like me to walk you back to your dorm or do you think you can do it yourself?” She asks, and Sirius shrugs when the door creaks open and Remus Lupin pokes his head through with a soft, “Padfoot? Are you in there?”

Sirius’ eyes widen and his tear-streaked face lights up like the sun as he bounds down the steps and over to Remus, skidding to a stop just before he reaches him. “Here, Remus,” he murmurs, and Remus smiles, running a fond hand through Sirius’ silky dark hair.

“Come on then, Siri,” he says softly. “Time for bed.” Sirius blushes, leaning in just a bit, and Remus grins, engulfing him in a hug and pecking his cheek before pulling back to grab his hand. “I’ve got it from here, Professor,” he says to Mcgonogall with a polite nod. “You have a good night, Miss.”

Mcgonogall smiles and nods back, watching her boys disappear out the door and into the night before sighing to herself and drawing her robes tighter around her to block the wind as she heads, finally, to bed.

In the morning, she wakes up to Severus already in her classroom, making himself busy at  one of the desks. She blearily makes them a few cups of tea before settling across from him, taking in the disorganized array of cauldrons, ingredients, and notes in front of him.

“What’s all this then?” She asks, taking a sip of her tea and then wincing at the sheer sweetness from overpoured sugar, and Severus shrugs.

“Trying to make a potion out of wolfsbane,” he answers, voice soft. “Thought it might be able to prevent transformations.”

Mcgonogall raises an eyebrow. “My, my. A difficult task indeed. May I ask why?” Severus shrugs again, his nose buried in the notebook he’s scribbling in.

“To help Remus, of course,” he says, as if it were obvious, as if they’ve been friends for years. Mcgonogall nods, humming, and takes another sip of her disgusting tea.

“Your new interest is Mr. Lupin is certainly… kind,” she says, and Severus finally looks up at her, eyes wide and dark but so, so light.

“He’s nice,” he murmurs. “That’s all.”

And Mcgonogall suspects that there is far, far more reason than that, but it’s far too early and she’s far too tired to even begin picking apart the peculiar behaviors of one Severus Snape Evans Potter, so instead she simply nods and plonks her head down in her arms, allowing herself to be lulled to sleep by the sound of rustling notebook pages, cracking bezoars and Severus’ out-of-tune humming of Beatles songs.

1) Regulus [Learn Me Right - Birdy, Mumford & Sons]

A few hours before his graduation, Regulus shows up at Mcgonogall’s door, the smallest of smiles settled on his face. “Good morning, Professor,” he says, and she sighs.

“You graduate in three hours, Mr. Black,” she says tiredly. “What could you possibly need my help with now?”

Regulus gives her an amused smile, tracing his fingers along the desks of his brothers and friends as he walks through the rows he’s sat in for so many years. “Nothing,” he answers finally, looking towards her. “I came to deliver this.”

He hands her a light blue card decorated in fluttering rainbow butterflies that reads, You have been cordially invited to the wedding of Remus Moony Lupin and Sirius Padfoot Potter on the 21st of June. At the bottom is a hastily scrawled note in two different hands, We hope you can make it. We love you, Minnie! Thank you for everything! Thank you, Minnie.

Mcgonogall clutches the invitation in surprise and looks up at Regulus with the breathless question, “Really?” Regulus just smiles, nodding.

“Yup,” he says in that slow drawl of his. “Severus and Lily and James have been talking about it too, so you can expect to see another one of those soon.” Mcgonogall smiles, blinking back tears.

“And you?” She asks, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. “What will you do, Mr. Black?”

Regulus shakes his head and bites his lip, looking up at her with twinkling eyes and a sparkling grin. “It’s Mr. Lupin now,” he answers, “and I have no bloody idea.”

Mcgonogall laughs aloud, drawing him into a hug and kissing the top of his head. She sends him off with a wave and well-wishes.

Six years later, there’s a knock on her door. Summer has barely started but most of the castle is empty anyhow, with students having been sent home and most teachers taking their vacations now. With the war having been over for years now and the fight for werewolf rights making serious headway, Professor Mcgonogall does not receive many visitors. So she only expects Dumbledore when she opens the door, but instead there’s Severus, grinning and holding the hand of a fluffy-haired, green-eyed toddler with a lightning birthmark on his forehead.

“Hi, Professor,” he says, waving his free hand. She catches the glint of a wedding ring and tears up, smiling as she draws him in for a hug.

“Who’s this?” She asks, bending down to shake the little boy’s hand. Severus grins.

“This is Harry,” he says. “Harry Evans. My son.”

Mcgonogall looks up at him in shock. He shrugs, and suddenly she’s beaming, hugging him close again. “I’m so happy for you,” she whispers, and Severus squeezes her tight.

“I owe it all to you, Minnie,” he murmurs back, and kisses her cheek as she pulls back. After a moment of just smiling at each other, he says, “I have a few hours free to catch up, if you want? Tea?” Mcgonogall beams.

“But of course,” she teases, offering her arm. Severus takes it, laughing, and closes the door behind them with a few simple words of warning: “I feel I should mention, you can also expect untimely visits from six other Marauder children.” Mcgonogall looks at him, shakes her head, and sighs.

“Just as well,” she answers, and Severus laughs, joy shaking his bones. “But you owe me so much tea.” Severus winks.

“I’ve got the literal and figurative kind whenever you’re free,” he answers, and Mcgonogall smiles.

Severus announces his relationship with Lily and James by dragging them in by the hand one morning and shouting, “I got it, Professor!”

[blinder-secrets]

Ring Girl - Part 2

part one

ao3 link

a/n: i can’t believe after 3 years i’m finally continuing this... i genuinely feel so good about it, i hope it was worth the wait

Bonnie woke before you, as he often did. He could’ve left you sleeping, slipped away without stirring you at all, but his softness wouldn’t let him. It never did. He’d told you once that his day couldn’t go right unless you welcomed it in and, after that, you’d stopped complaining. You let him wake you when he wanted and smiled each time that he did.

‘Dove,’ he said quietly, trailing his index finger across your collarbone. ‘It’s morning.’ He drew a line and then looped it, spinning patterns on your skin until you showed signs of waking.

You were on your back, with him on his side next to you. When you’d said goodnight, you’d been tangled together, wound up like string, but he fidgeted too much; in the mornings, you were always apart again. ‘Already?’ you sighed, talking round the edges of a yawn. ‘What time?’

‘Six.’

With your eyes still closed, you turned your head, flipping your cheek onto the pillow to face him. ‘More sleep, please,’ you murmured.

He laughed, keeping it quiet and light. Soft like he might’ve startled you. ‘I need you to wish me luck, dove.’

You pulled your eyes open then, peeling the lids apart and blinking a few times to keep them so. ‘Why?’ you asked, yawning afterwards. ‘What’s today?’

The room was dim, lit with what little sun could filter in through the curtains, but he still lay there glowing. Dark eyes melting into amber. His skin fresh and pale, and drawn across his cheeks like bone china. Precious, you thought. Gold in name and value.

His hand shifted from your chest and pushed under the covers to link with yours. ‘It’s the first day training,’ he said, lips settling into a grin. ‘They’ve got me in the best gym in Birmingham.’ He pulled the word, stretched it and curled it into his accent, cherished it like it was his for the taking.

Birmingham. The city, the bricks and the smoke. It all held a weight to him that was lost on you.

‘What do you need training for?’ There wasn’t a man in England that could beat him, you’d seen enough of them try.

‘It’s important.’ He pressed a kiss to your shoulder. ‘Rules are different.’

‘Fuck rules,’ you answered lazily. ‘You’re all instinct, Bon.’

He squeezed your hand before letting go. ‘Not anymore.’ He sat up with a groan, pausing on the edge of the bed to roll his neck out, to stretch his limbs and wipe his eyes before standing.

‘Come back,’ you whined, reaching a limp arm over the bed to him. ‘Just for a bit.’

He shook his head as he bent over the chest you both kept your clothes in. ‘I can’t be late.’

‘Who says?’ You rolled onto your elbows, chin in your hands. He began to dress himself as you watched. ‘Your dad,’ you asked, ‘or the Shelbys?’

‘Both, dove.’ He ignored the comment you’d slung beneath the words, the question you couldn’t ask outright. Who are you loyal to now Bonnie? Who’s threats scare you the most? ‘I have to go,’ he said.

‘I think I preferred when you were boxing trees.’

The soft smile you knew so well fell onto his features — the one that said, you’re difficult, but you’re mine. He came back to the bed and ran a hand over your hair. ‘Trees don’t pay, y’know. This is good for us.’

It’s good for Aberama, you thought. ‘Will you be away for long?’

‘Just the day,’ he said. ‘You’ll have me again before it’s dark.’

You smiled and turned to kiss his wrist. ‘I suppose I can keep myself busy til then.’

He nodded, and leant down to return the gesture, planting his lips onto the top of your head. ‘Be good,’ he said as he stood again. ‘Don’t be gettin’ into trouble.’

‘When do I ever get myself in trouble, Bon?’

‘Almost everyday,’ he answered.

You’d only lingered in bed a little longer after Bonnie left, then you’d washed and dressed, and walked from the camp with your hair damp and frizzing. It wasn’t hot, but it wasn’t cold enough to make you regret it either. It’d be dry by the time you got to town. You had thought about getting the train from the nearest station, but why bother when you had all day to waste anyway. The walk would do you good.

When you got to Small Heath, you followed the canals, clinging to those streaks of almost wilderness. They weren’t natural, but it felt nicer to walk them than the roads. You didn’t pass another soul until it took you through the Shelby yard. The old man that owned it gave you a look as you arrived, but said nothing. Perhaps he knew who you were. Perhaps he’d made the connection on his own, from the way you dressed, the way you carried yourself. Bonnie had said their family was Romani too, and kin recognise kin no matter how long ago they settled.

‘Can I cut through here, sir?’ you asked him.

He nodded once, wiping his hands clean on a rag that was already black with coal. ‘One of the Golds, are you?’

‘Not yet.’ You smiled as you veered from the comfort of the canal path to cross the yard. ‘Won’t be long, though,’ you added as you passed him.

He ignored your comment as you thought he would. ‘Don’t make it a habit, love, walking through here. S’a working boat yard, you know.’

You waved a hand over your shoulder in acknowledgment; you never made anything habit.

Following whim had led you to the bookies on Watery Lane. Last time you were there, Finn, you think he’s called, had let you place a bet on the Blinders’ winning horse. You didn’t follow the races yourself, you just did it because you could. Because it had never been offered to you before. He’d suggested a horse and you’d agreed to it, put the few pounds you’d had into his palm and told him to go for it. Make me a winner, Peaky boy.

He wasn’t around this time. When you walked into the betting shop, all the thick-sculled men twisted their necks to look at you. They went quiet like you were a ghost. Like they’d never seen a woman before.

‘I placed a bet,’ you said, to the room, because no one offered to help you. ‘Last week.’

‘Did ya, love,’ said the closest, laughing as he turned back to his work.

You stood straighter. ‘Yes.’ You took the slip Finn had given you, and held it out to him, shoving it under his nose so he was forced to look at it. ‘See?’

The man glanced at you sideways and then took the receipt, sitting back to scrutinise it. ‘Who the bloody hell let you do that?’ he said, accent thick and rolling and itching under your skin.

‘Finn Shelby,’ you told him, knowing it was a weapon to say so. They could be as rude as they liked, but you knew they were all hares in a trap that the Shelbys’ set. You watched the smugness flush from his expression. ‘So,’ you purred, ‘did I win?’

He shook his head, then he sighed. Then he leant forward again and held the paper back out for you to take. ‘No, love,’ he said. ‘You lost like the rest of them.’

Frowning, you took the receipt and shoved it, crumpled, back into your pocket. ‘It was fixed?’ you asked. ‘He had me bet on the wrong horse?’

‘I’m not sayin’ that.’

But he wouldn’t, even if Finn had. ‘He said it would win,’ you continued, your words bitter and souring. ‘Was blessed, he said.’

The man cleared his throat. ‘Can’t be helped.’

It could, in fact, be helped.

‘Do you have a toilet?’ you asked.

You’d sweetened your voice slightly and it had worked, because he nodded and pointed to the back of the room, past the tables and the workers, without even looking up at you. You followed the direction he’d sent you in, and locked yourself into the toilet for long enough to seem convincing.

If Finn could sell you a false bet, you saw no harm in getting back what was wrongly taken from you — with some interest, of course.

When it seemed reasonable, you left the toilet and started back through the shop, eyes scanning the tables as you passed them. It mustn’t have been long since they took their last winnings; the desks were busy with notes, and pennies, and men counting as fast as their education would let them. Seeing a suitably abandoned pile, close to the edge of the nearest, you paused and crouched. No-one was taking any notice of you. You tied your lace though it had never been undone and then, with a final check for safety, you stole the money. Your hand curled over the table-edge, pushing the top inch of notes from the pile and into your waiting pocket. It was so easy you almost laughed.

In a way, you wish you had laughed. Now, you knew it wouldn’t have made a difference, because you never got away with it. If you’d have laughed at the time, you might’ve been able to flirt your way out of the trouble.

After standing, you had started to walk away, nonchalant and pleased with your actions. And then the thin-moustached man, who was previously looking for his cigarettes, had turned back and noticed. You’d been hoping he would be clueless to it. Or at least slow enough that you’d be out the door and down the road before he realised.

‘Oi,’ he barked, ‘where’s that fucking money gone?’

There wasn’t chance to plea your case. Out of everyone in the shop, it could have only ever been you that was responsible. It didn’t take them long to work that out.

You were by the campfire when Aberama found you. He knew already what’d happened, at least, he knew what Mikey had told him, who knew what you had told Allie, which really wasn’t all that much. All you’d said to her, was that you’d robbed some money from the wrong man, and he’d smacked the sense back into you. She didn’t need to know that it involved Shelby business, because Aberama didn’t need to know. The paths that gossip took were predictable enough that you’d accounted for it.

When he got to you, the kettle you’d been waiting for finally hissed and screamed into its boiling point. You reached for it, but Aberama took it off the flames and set it onto the table before you could. No tea for you, then. Just inquisition.  

‘So, what am I meant to tell Bonnie this time?’ he asked, crossing his wrists over his front. ‘He’ll be back soon.’

‘I know.’ You felt inclined to keep your face hidden, choosing to stare down at the fire instead of looking at him. ‘It’s nothing serious,’ you told him. The first slap had been hard enough to split your lip, the second just enough to bruise the cushioning beneath your eye. Everything else was so minor it barely left an ache.

‘Everything is serious to him, girl.’

You nodded.

‘This will hurt him,’ he said.

‘I know,’ you agreed. He didn’t want to hear anything else from you after all. ‘I’ll deal with it.’

‘You will.’ He stepped closer, and dipped his head so you couldn’t help but look at him. You didn’t find him threatening, just chilling. Unreadable but familiar enough that you couldn’t be scared of him. ‘I won’t have you distracting him now,’ he warned. ‘I like you, but I won’t hesitate to make a choice on his behalf.’

You nodded. He lifted your chin with the tips of his fingers to get a proper look at you.

‘You’re too rough for all your sweetness,’ he said. Then, after a moment of consideration, he added, ‘I’ll tell Bonnie before he sees you, but make this the last time, dear.’

After that, you sat on the steps to your wagon, anxiety rotting in your gut, until the sun had began to set. Just before it fell enough to make the sky feel dark, Bonnie came home. He entered the camp whistling, his hands in his pockets, his steps free and bounding. He saw you from across the way, but Aberama intercepted him before he could get any closer.

Guilt bit at your ankles as the joy went from his shoulders and into the mulch, his high from the day’s training lost once he heard of your own stupidity. You watched his brows pull together. His hands left his pockets in fists. The worst part of it, was knowing that it could’ve been avoided. You could’ve taken your failed bet and left, could’ve gone home and read, and waited. Could’ve lay down and listened to him gush about the fights he’d had. Instead, you had to watch his buzz harden into anger, and sit under the weight of his gaze as he approached.

When he got to you, he was mute. His jaw set and unset.

‘Bon,’ you started, looking up at him, ‘before you say anything—‘

‘No, dove,’ he stopped you. He folded his arms and then unwound them again, fidgeting in the way he did when he tried to keep himself calm. When he tried to put words before actions. ‘I told you to be careful,’ he said. His voice was so taut it was almost a whisper.

You exhaled heavily. Not in a sigh, in deflation. You dropped your head but he lifted it again, his hand so light against your cheek that it may as well have not been there. It was the intention more than the grip that brought your eyes back to his. While he scanned your face, you sat vacant, waiting for the disapproval to load onto his features. His thumb moved to hover over the cut in your lip, his eyes dark and scrutinising.

‘Who was it?’ he asked pointedly, still talking through the catch of his teeth.

‘No one.’

‘Don’t do that.’

‘Bon,’ you pushed his hand away, ‘it’s like you said, they’re less forgiving in the city. I know that now.’

He wasn’t satisfied. He knew you too well, knew you were smarter than getting caught for pickpocketing. ‘I’ll ask you again, who was it?’

Rolling your eyes, you looked away from him. You couldn’t lie to his face as easily as you could with others. ‘I don’t know names,’ you said.

‘What happened then?’ he replied, standing limp before you. His gaze bore into the bruise on your cheek. ‘Where were you?’

If Bonnie was anything, he was stubborn. The only person you knew other than yourself, that would run a thought into the ground, let an idea posses him until he found whatever it was he wanted. You closed your eyes for a moment, knowing the next words to come out your mouth would only make things worse. And yet, there you were, preparing to say them anyway.

‘I took money,’ you said slowly, 'from the Shelby bookmakers.’

‘What?’ The word hissed out of him, piercing the quiet bubble that had previously kept you safe from curious stares. Now, they looked freely, heads turning in your direction as Bonnie continued. ‘Fucken’ what?’ he spat. ‘They did this?’

‘No, no, Bon…’ You rolled your head between your shoulders, searching for something, anything, to say to quell him. ‘It wasn’t like that exactly.’

‘Then how was it like?’ His hands curled up again, rigid and set for striking.

‘Finn gave me a dud bet,’ you explained quickly. ‘I went and he wasn’t there, and they all gave me a look as if I shouldn’t be, and I thought, well, fuck them, I’ll take my own winnings.’

‘I’ll kill ‘em.’

You groaned. ‘No, Bon, I was being stupid. I deserved it, really. I mean, it was broad daylight, in a shop full of—’

‘Those Blinder fucks,' he cursed, turning to pace away from you. He spat into the leaves and threw a hand up to grab the cap from his head. ‘I’m s’posed to be fucken’ one of ‘em.’

‘Bonnie.’ You stood, stepping wide enough to reach him. You grabbed him by the arm and forced him to still. ‘It was a Blinder who stopped it,’ you said.

‘Yeah?’ His eyes darkened. ‘Not soon enough.’

‘He wasn’t there,’ you stressed. ‘When he came, he told them who I was. It’s sorted, Bon, we sorted it.’

You’d apologised to Finn, and he’d done the same. You were both crooks after all. There was too much between them and the Golds to be lost, so you’d agreed with him to leave it there, no bad blood. No revenge needed from either side. It’d be forgotten about before sunrise if Bonnie let it.

‘What’re you gonna do, Bonnie?’ you asked, softening your voice. ‘You go there and all this is ruined. I won’t let you do it.’

His jaw set again. ‘They hurt you, dove.’

‘I know.’ You rubbed his bicep. ‘It’s not worth it, still. Not even for me.’

‘Don’t keep sayin’ things like that,’ he scolded. ‘Always puttin’ me before you.’

His brows folded, and when he pulled away from your touch you let him. He looked upwards, to the trees, then to his feet. He was working through it. Tucking away the anger to consider the repercussions. There wasn’t anything he could do without causing more problems, no punch he could land without throwing the fight. He needed to be in the Shelby’s good books, for Aberama, for his career. He may not have liked it, but it was the truth.

‘Alright,’ he said, after a forced breath. ‘If it’s sorted?’

‘It is,’ you answered. ‘It’s forgotten.’

He nodded tightly. Then, for the first time, his expression faltered, softness melting the lines between his eyebrows. ‘You are alright, aren’t you, dove?’

You smiled, ignoring the pinch as it tugged the scab on your lip. ‘It’s nothing.’

Tutting, he pulled you into his chest, arms wrapping around you tightly. ‘Leave the fightin’ to me, ey?’ He said by your ear, words light and sad all the same. ‘Dun’t suit you.’

The hug was warm, and tight, and he smelt like a football team straight off the pitch, but you couldn’t pull away. You wanted to sink into him, right between the bones, and stay there. Mine, you thought. Mine and yours.

‘I’m sorry,’ you said, the stress delayed and boiling in your chest. ‘I could’ve fucked it up for you.’ You’d acted selfishly. It was pure luck, and understanding, and wilful retreat that kept it from shattering everything he and Aberama had built.

‘Ah,’ he soothed, his palm running up your back, ‘you know we don’t worry ‘bout the past.’

He didn’t but you did. Always, and relentlessly.

‘Here,’ he said, pulling back to hold your face. He kissed you once, gently, careful ‘cause he knew how it’d hurt, and then smiled. ‘I’ve still got to tell you ‘bout me day.’

‘Yeah?’ You leant back into his arms. ‘How’d it go?’

His eyes lit up. They shone in the twilight. ‘They said I’m gonna be a star, dove. A fucken’ star.’

[iampikachuhearmeroar]

y’know the wildest thing still to happen to me on this hellsite was my first experience of sexting, sans nudes, that was done in front of at least 250-500 followers because of those horny anons i had in early 2013 when i was 17. instead of being exposed to it on my phone privately with a partner at that age, it was done publicly for the internet to see lmao. i remember begging the anons to stop and “come off anon” because i was “losing followers” at the time too bc i was so insecure about my follower count lmao. and then yeah when they came off anon they were both 28 years old.

to write the responses, i just consulted cosmo mag sex pages for ideas hoping that the anons would like the options i chose. in one i detailed doing anal- a sex act i hadn’t even done yet irl- let alone every other thing i suggested in them (head, idek long, drawn out foreplay, some stupid fancy sex moves that cosmo was all like “use these moves to spice up your sex life 🔥🔥”, sex in a bath, i’m pretty sure i had some lines about tying or handcuffing them to a bed (????) etc etc etc)….

when again, i had never even done any of those above sex acts in real life. i was a naive teen who was incredibly shy in regards towards her love life because she’d “never been kissed” and had never had the “hot emo boyfriend whose in a band and is covered in tattoos” she’d always wanted, let alone even a boyfriend that she had actually fucking liked (ie clear braces boy, for like a month in year 9/2010 vs the popular boys that made fun of her, that she always had unrequited crushes on)…. hell, my blog title when i first started on here in 2011 was “the perfect epitome of being forever alone” because of these very reasons. but here she was, writing explicit sex acts to strangers like she knew what the fuck she was doing, to an audience of 250-500 people- and then to fucking grown ass men in inboxes. i was just parroting the shit i’d read in cosmo (both sex advice and sometimes excerpts of erotica/“sexy, steamy reads” they had some months) and also heard repeatedly in the porn that my high school stalker/creeper at public school loved to show (harass) me with to flirt with me, whenever we were alone together at school in 2012/2013.

like you could tell how naive i was….. because i used ridiculous lines like “like a gentleman entranced, you lead me to the bath for our next foray” and dumbass prose-y things like that. because what the fuck does that even mean 😂😅????

and this is why i think minors should be careful with their online experiences. like yeah, you could say that i wasn’t a minor anymore- more of a “young adult”- who should of made the smart decision to not engage with these anons. but i was a kid. i thought it was fun. and when the dudes came off anon, i thought to myself “it’s not like i’m ever gonna meet them if i ever go to the US or puerto rico at any point. it’s not like that they’ll ever recognise me in person or ever reach out to me again in the future. i might as well do it.” and i did eventually end up ignoring the guys in my inbox, due to my mental health kinda plummeting from the middle til the end of 2013 because of my end of high school exams and stuff… and also the puerto rican guy’s infamously inappropriate “hot PE teacher fucks HOT female high school student in the girls change room showers” fantasy which fucking disgusted me, when he full well knew that i was STILL IN high school.

and obviously again, there’s the point about using the “block” button function. but as i’ve stated several times over my years on here, back in my early days of tumblr, i never wanted to block or unfollow people (even if they were trash like these two men), because it seemed so “mean” and “final”. obvs now i have no qualms about blocking people, and actively encourage younger people on here to use the block button with reckless abandon towards creepy people or people who can hurt them in some way. but to high school teenage me, the whole “using the block button” thing seemed to go against me being a “nice girl/person” so i never used it, no matter which social media platform i was on.

this is why i’m hella scared for young teen girls on tik tok wanting to have onlyfans accounts: because it’s where they’ll be exposed to ACTUAL CREEPS AND PREDATORS incredibly quickly; all because they can make money off selling images of just their feet or eventually their body….. depending on what these creepy strangers demand from them….. and they’ll feel like they’ll have to do it…. but to do it before you even start experimenting properly with relationships and sex is even worse. like. yeah. i’ve admitted before that i originally started this tumblr to possibly post nudes, to see if i’d get the positive feedback that i so desperately wanted/craved from the boys in my year at catholic school- eg. to be called “sexy”, “hot”, “fuckable” possibly “beautiful”- like some of the so called “popular girls” got on their hella basic bikini photos back then (like i remember one girl i knew ended up with like 500 likes and a fair amount of comments on one of her bikini pics and i was INCREDIBLY BITTER because not even a pic of me with a nice outfit on, my hair done and makeup on could EVER get those numbers, let alone even break over the double digits).

but i decided posting nudes or other explicit images on here was an absolute no go, because i realised that i never wanted people that i knew digging up barely clothed/naked pics of me and sending them to me all like “hey, is this you?” and then possibly mocking me, all because i would’ve been dumb enough to put my face in them probably at the time. now when i take nudes and send them, i never show my face. because i know now, that even in relationships, your partner can use nude pics as leverage for arguments or to abuse you in such a way that they’ll upload your pics without your knowledge to god knows where on the internet probably as a way to get back at you in a horrible breakup.

this is what i sincerely hope some young girls who ever contemplate starting onlyfans accounts take some time SERIOUSLY CONSIDER. please know that if you share shit on onlyfans, it can shared and re-shared (i think idek how OF works tbh) to god knows who- and eventually end up in the hands of people you know. i don’t fucking care if it’s a “good way to make money!” or if people think that im trying to stop teen girls from being “girl bosses” and the other dumb as fuck internet memes you want to throw at me. because this shit isn’t “haha internet meme funny” material. it’s some fucking serious stuff. and also, i’m not saying “don’t become a sex worker when you’re older” or whatever either. you’re free to make that choice when you’re in your 20s (no i even mean 17-19 year olds in this post as “young teen girls”- sorry you’re basically kids to me at almost 26). just please consider where the fuck your stuff can be shared to. who it can end up being shared with or to.

this is why i was so fucking adamant with my infamous old follower mr adelaide fuckboy/MAF that i personally would NOT consider becoming a camgirl for him or just generally… because i had no idea where the fuck my images or videos would end up. and do you know the places i’d never want them to fucking be??? in the hands of my high school stalker/creeper. in the hands of those two 28yo men from 2013 (who’d now be in there late 30s or early 40s). i absolutely don’t want them in the hands the mid-to-late 20s and early 30s men that that girl i met at public school in 2012 who was pissed that i didn’t believe that were “adults” because we were finally over the legal age of consent (16) in our state of australia, and so we were apparently fine to “fuck” literal grown ass men because “just fuck them and they’ll be nice to you!!” which i knew was fucking bullshit.

i absolutely don’t fucking want explicit videos/images of me ending up in “why the fuck won’t you let me give you “sex lessons” in the back of my car as a “favour” and as payment for teaching you how to drive you stupid, stuck up & frigid, virgin bitch!?” guy’s hands from 2014 (when i was 18/19 at the time and he was 25… he ended up being the first person of many i’d EVER block on social media lol). or i don't want them in the hands of those weird early 20s dudes (one of which was trying to set me up with his friend) who hit on me at 16/17 (2012) who were angry that i didn’t like and watch porn as much as they did…. and who promptly asked me at the end of their period of harassing of me: “do you know any sluts we could add?” because i kept refusing their suggestions etc.

hell, quite frankly i don’t even want them to go to mr adelaide fuckboy/MAF either, but the very few and far between nudes that i sent on snapchat to him back in 2016 are some nudes that i’d rather forget lmao. hell. i don’t even know if MAF ever deleted my nudes or shared them somewhere else or not, after he fucking wheedled them out of me with “i’ve followed you for 4 years, don’t be a shit! you owe me nudes!” so he’d just shut the fuck up about my social life decisions and leave me the fuck alone.

i don’t want ANY ONE of the guys i mentioned above to get their hands on photos of minors either…. because i definitely know my hs stalker/creeper would… because his fave “make her jealous” tactic that he’s always used on me is that “hey…. i’m dating a *insert teenage girl’s age here*! be fucking jealous that you don’t fucking have me and feel guilty that you won’t fuck me like this girl does!!!” just like he did in 2015, when i ran into him on the home from uni… when i turned 20 the next week and he turned 20 that december. at that time it was a 14yo girl he used as an example of him “dating”/“fucking” to make me jealous. instead, i was completely and utterly fucking disgusted. like any fucking sane and normal human being would/should be at that horrible age gap. that is literally a fucking child that he was fucking grooming. and we were literal adults. back the fuck away.

just please. PLEASE CONSIDER the types of people that trawl these kinds of sites and their intentions. please consider that you are young. very fucking young. you literally DO NOT need to upload nudes to the internet because it’s apparently a “lucrative” business. fuck the jokey “boss babe” rhetoric around it all the way to fucking hell.

because if you’re a minor: i do not want you to have your first experience of sexting or sending explicit images literally in front of god knows how many total strangers for the whole world to see (okay i know only fans is like subscriber/follower based or whatever. but i don’t care)…… even when you (depending how good you are with relationships etc) haven’t reached the common supposed milestones of your “first boyfriend/girlfriend/partner” or “first kiss” or have even “lost your virginity” (which isn’t real anyway- don’t buy this fucking bullshit)…. just like i stupidly did with my exposure to sexting here on my tumblr back in 2013. these people don’t/won’t give a flying fuck about your privacy or safety. they don’t/won’t give a fuck about your boundaries either.

please don’t possibly scar yourself for life, just because you’re being told that it’s a quick & convenient way to make some money for weirdos on the depths of the internet. you will regret it in future. just like i do now with mine. it should’ve been something personal between me and and a guy i trusted and liked at the time. not to some random 250-500 random strangers on this hellsite (okay the notes on these posts were literally single digits or non-existent, but still… and also some of my irl friends who had tumblr saw these posts as well) for a show….. and then privately with two 28yo literal grown ass men…. who should’ve been fucking hitting on women their own goddamned age and in their own countries and NOT a 17yo high school KID (at the time) from australia; who, now in her 20s, needs therapy to sort this shit out lmao. mind you they both reeled me in with the “you’re so mature for your age” bullshit line…. which i fell for a little bit, even if it did make me feel kinda gross at the time, too. don’t fall for that bullshit either.