#roll on 11 june

[coolenrutherford]

me getting ready for the 7 companions in Veilguard:

[rubbish78]

hot

[dvdsharkk]

IM SOBBING I WAS MAKIGN BIRTHDAG ART FOR FUCKING MEPHONE4 AND LIKE RIGHT AFTE RI WAS DONE WITH YHE SKETCH AND STARTED ON THE DRAFT I HAD TO TAKE A WEEK BREAK FROM THE INTERNET NOW THE ART IS GONNA BE HELLA LATE IM CRYING

MY MOTIVATION WHILE I WAS DRAWING JT WAS SO GOOD AND NOW ITS NOT IT MIGHT BE AN ABANDONED DRAWING NOW 😞😞

Also random ass picture below *slightly silly suggestive type vibe* (creds to artist)

[rollingstonesdata]

All Rolling Stones Data Posts Today: June 11, 2024

All Rolling Stones Data Posts Today: June 11, 2024 *Click for all latest posts Rolling Stones Chronology: June 11 june 11 Today in Rolling Stones history: June 11 *Click for DAILY ROLLING STONES CHRONOLOGY 1962-present June… June 11, 2024June 10, 2024 The Rolling Live in Boston 1975 boston ma Flashback: The Rolling Stones live in Boston, MA 1975 June 11, 1975: Garden,… June 11, 2024June 11,…

[ralfmaximus]

Initially planned for release in June, the launch of Recall was delayed to address these security concerns. Microsoft now plans to roll out the feature to Windows Insiders testers in October.

Remember that new Windows 11 privacy-violating feature that freaked everyone out a few months ago? The screen-recording gizmo that watches everything you do, including logins with passwords, then records those screens to a database? Then uses "AI" to interpret what it's recorded, so you somebody can search it?

Everyone thought Microsoft had heard the backlash and cancelled the project. Nope.

It's baaaaaaaack... and coming to a Windows 11 PC near you next month, October 2024.

[servicpop]

NSFW ; BLACK , WHITE & GRAY criminal bottom m!reader x detective oc

warnings; age gap , degradation , hate sex , exhibitionism/infront of people (mentioned slightly) , hand cuffs , dubcon/noncon(?) , no after care

notes __ this idea has been sitting in my inbox for awhile but I've finally gotten around to it !

JUNE 19 1999 / 11:48PM

Red and blue lights colored the night skies; not even a slither of the moonlight slipped past the cover of the clouds. The bright yellow caution tape strapped around the fences of the home squealed when Callahan Marshall pulled them up to duck underneath them.

Officers on the scene scrambled to question him but were quickly shot down with the flash of his badge. They slowly retreated, allowing for the man to walk into the crime scene.

The rain had been unforgiving tonight, covering all traces of footprints that might have been left by the culprit in an attempt to escape. A scowl plastered Callahan's face as the stench of alcohol and smoke insulted his nose. The floorboards creaked underneath each step he took, whining with the burden of his weight.

"Careful, Marshall, we aren't too sure if the culprit even left. There's been no signs of escape." Callahan's eyes slowly met the ones that belonged to one of his co-workers — another detective. The other man visibly shuddered when Callahan's pitch-black eyes met his, deep circles tainted the bags of his eyes. A gruff noise was all he got in response before Callahan made his way through the home.

It wasn't a house belonging to someone particularly made up of money so why would anyone make such a mess out of it?

The rooms were left clean, untouched almost. Only a few drawers or cabinets were opened and a few appliances were out of place but no alarming indicator a robbery had happened. Callahan traced a finger along the countertops of the kitchen, looking at the dust that had been sweeped up. This house had been left like this for awhile, even before the culprit set foot in there.

A sudden clattering caught Callahan's attention and he turned his body to the other detective and police officers searching the house, "Did you knock something over?" "No sir, what did you hear?"

Callahan slowly approached the laundry room, twisting the doorknob with caution. He pushed the knob forward and the door swung open. It was hard to make out with the lack of light but Callahan saw a figure dart out the window. "Here!" He called out, alerting the officers before he walked up to the window, watching as the figure scrambled away. He wasn't worried though, the whole place had been surrounded by police patrolling the area.

You couldn't get far even if you tried.

JUNE 22 / 2:24PM

You got caught. It was about time you did.

You had spent the past few years doing various, sketchy jobs in the desperation for money. You lost your job not even three months into it and it had become harder and harder to find suitable jobs to spend the rest of your life slaving away at. You had no choice, it was either that or living off the streets with the local sewer rats as your only form of entertainment and friendship.

Now, you were stuck in an enclosed, dusty white room, sat cuffed to a metal table right in the middle of it with an annoyingly bright light dangling from the ceiling. It was the interrogation room. And the man you sat infront of you was none other than the 'greatest detective of our time' Callahan Marshall.

He was an older guy, probably pushing his 40s by now. You could tell from the way his brows were locked into a furrowing position and the stubble that graced his chin seemed lazily maintained. He also had quite the bit of hair on his arms, his sleeves loosely rolled above his elbows. You couldn't really tell what color his eyes were from how low he held his head and the light above you casted a deep shadow over his eyes, but through the darkness you concluded that they were a yellow-ish orange. Interesting.

"June 19." You flinched. It was expected that he had a deep voice but actually hearing it was different. His voice was coarse, gravelly like wheels crunching against a rocky trail and you could practically hear the amount of cigarettes he's smoked throughout his years of stress. "You were caught about and hour or two after police had arrived," Callahan sounded bored, mumbling his words.

Growing up, Callahan had always hated criminals. From watching bad guys on TV to coming home and seeing his parents dead on the floor and his house a mess from a robbery, Callahan devoted the past years to serving justice. His world was devoid of color, a black and white film on an old, vintage television.

"Did you steal from Mr Broadwood's home?" He pressed, leaning his forearms along the table. They were meaty, not extremely muscular but definitely built from casual hours at the gym. Could you even lie at this point? He was so sure with his words that even the fact that people were watching you from the two-way mirror comforted you from this man.

"No." And the cheap lie rolled off your tongue like it was sweet candy. He raised his eyebrows, unamused. Yeah he was definitely onto you. "So... these photos aren't you?" A confused look flashed across his face as he slid the printed images of your face in full view; it was painfully obvious that it was you. But your head seemed to shake side to side saying 'that's not me' like it was instinct. Callahan leaned back in his chair, scrubbing a hand over his face as his head tilted back in annoyance. You could hear the prickly sound of his stubble scraping against the palm of his hand.

"I'll force it out of you if you don't fess up," His hand slammed down onto the metal table, causing it to rattle from the contact. "Fine, is force the only thing you cops know how to do?" It was only natural you acted this way. For all your life you've relied on cops to protect you and your loved ones, but each time you needed them the most, they turned a blind eye to you.

But, oil doesn't mix with water. Your two starkingly different perspectives caused conflict. With balled fists, Callahan stood up, the chair scraping against the floors with how abruptly he stood up. Before you knew it, a hand made its way to your hair. Callahan's thick fingers tangled in the strands and pulled your head back, eliciting a small yelp from you. He leaned in closer, looming over you with hate seeping from his pores.

"Tell me this isn't you," He growled, picking up the photos and shoving it in your face. In all honesty, you were focused on how damn close he was. His breath was fanning against the shell of your ear and if you concentrated enough, you could hear the short breaths he took. Callahan straightened his posture but never loosened his grip on your hair. He pulled your head back even further and peered down at you. "Dirty criminal," he muttered under his breath.

You swore it was just the adrenaline making you hard. There was no way you'd fall for a detective like him. So why did he have your face squished onto the table and your boxers pulled down just under the curve of your ass.

"This is what you wanted isn't it?" Callahan had one hand holding your head down and another on your waist, digging into your flesh. He found out that the more he dug into your waist, the more you'd whine and squirm against him. You couldn't deny his words though, something in you was so intrigued by Callahan. He got straight to the point, and he didn't try and fool you with kindness. But maybe you wished he'd be a little more gentle with you.

Your eyes shot wide open when you felt his tip circle your rim. You didn't even have to see it to know the size of it. Could it even fit? "Wait—" Your words were cut off as he thrust forward with no warning, letting his cock sink into your hole. The burning sensation of the stretch made tears bubble at your eyes, threatening to spill. A groan slipped from his lips as he buried himself to the hilt, "God you're too tight."

Callahan moved his hand from your head to firmly grip at your waist, leaning forward so his body weight would pin you down. His hips grinded against you, digging his cock deeper inside your warm body. "Spit it out, did you do it or not?" He grunted, beads of sweat trickled down his temples as he pounded into you repeatedly, watching your flesh ripple with each thrust. "You're leaking everywhere," He chided, snaking his hand to reach for your neglected dick, holding the tip in his palm.

Your wrists strained against the cuffs binding you to the table, the metal cutting into your flesh as you struggled. "I didn't— do it!" You managed to gasp between moans, your hair spilling out onto the table. "Oh really? You didn't do it huh?" He scoffed and his hand tightened around your weeping tip, stroking you off in time with his relentless thrusts.

"People are watching you through that mirror and through the cameras, your pathetic face is on view for everyone to see," Callahan leaned down to whisper in your ear, grabbing a fistful of hair to yank your head up, allowing your teary face to be on full display for the cameras. Fuck, that turned you on more then you would've wanted it to.

His head slung against your shoulder, an oddly affection gesture for how hard he was fucking you. "I know you're not innocent, but your fuckin' doe eyes pisses me off," Callahan's voice had gotten even rougher, and the anger was clear in his tone. He was just using you for stress relief.

Your thighs trembled and your body started to give out, the stimulation was too much for you. His cock kept abusing your prostate, grinding and rubbing against it so much that black stars seemed to cloud your vision. Your fingertips clawed at the metal table, trying to ground yourself as shameless moans came out of your throat. "You're so loud," He scowled, leaning back so he could admire your back in its full glory.

It got him off with the way you sucked him back in even if you seemed so stubborn to liking him. Watching his fat cock disappear into your hole was enough to make him groan. "You wanna cum? Admit it." It was like his dick was a truth serum, you found yourself blabbering, tears rolling down your pink cheeks as you spewed out the truth, "Fine, I did it, I did it, please— just—" A smirk plastered Callahan's face as he whistled, "Go ahead."

In a split second you found yourself spurting out white all over his hand, your back arched and your body convulsed in his grip. Callahan meant to pull out but you were sucking him in so much that he couldn't. He cursed as his orgasm crashed down on him like a wave, filling you up with his sperm before he could pull out. "Shit," he huffed, pulling up his pants before he stared at his cum dripping from your hole. It was still clenching around nothing, and Callahan couldn't help but feel a pang of responsibility for you, but he shook off those thoughts. His one duty was to protect the civilians, not empathise with criminals.

"I'm done here," He grumbled, picking up his things and leaving you slumped on the floor, still bound by the handcuffs on the metal table. He turned his head over his shoulder to glance at you one more time, feeling a strange uncomfortable sensation in his heart before he scoffed and walked out the doors.

He's never lost control like that with any other criminal.

BONUS ; IN THE OTHER SIDE OF THE INTERROGATION ROOM

"Kid looks like he's about to die," Alastair, a co-worker of Callahan, was assigned to supervise the interrogation, "Marshall sure is brutal," He sighed, standing up once he heard that Callahan was finished.

"At least his tactics work though, props to him," Alastair turned around to face the intern who was meant to learn from this experience. The poor boy had his hands covering his eyes.

"It's fine now, you stay here, I'll clean the guy up."

a/n ; i changed my layout !! Its alot easier now ^^; my previous one had so many symbols I had to copy and paste ,, anyways ! I finally wrote about him ♡♡ the original request(?) was a bit different so this is ooc of him but I will expand more on his story if you guys like him ! Also I introduced Alastair ,, maybe I can write a threesome with them sometime !! I've never done it before so who knows

[directactionforhope]

"Starting this month [June 2024], thousands of young people will begin doing climate-related work around the West as part of a new service-based federal jobs program, the American Climate Corps, or ACC. The jobs they do will vary, from wildland firefighters and “lawn busters” to urban farm fellows and traditional ecological knowledge stewards. Some will work on food security or energy conservation in cities, while others will tackle invasive species and stream restoration on public land. 

The Climate Corps was modeled on Franklin D. Roosevelt’s Civilian Conservation Corps, with the goal of eventually creating tens of thousands of jobs while simultaneously addressing the impacts of climate change. 

Applications were released on Earth Day, and Maggie Thomas, President Joe Biden’s special assistant on climate, told High Country News that the program’s website has already had hundreds of thousands of views. Since its launch, nearly 250 jobs across the West have been posted, accounting for more than half of all the listed ACC positions. 

“Obviously, the West is facing tremendous impacts of climate change,” Thomas said. “It’s changing faster than many other parts of the country. If you look at wildfire, if you look at extreme heat, there are so many impacts. I think that there’s a huge role for the American Climate Corps to be tackling those crises.”  

Most of the current positions are staffed through state or nonprofit entities, such as the Montana Conservation Corps or Great Basin Institute, many of which work in partnership with federal agencies that manage public lands across the West. In New Mexico, for example, members of Conservation Legacy’s Ecological Monitoring Crew will help the Bureau of Land Management collect soil and vegetation data. In Oregon, young people will join the U.S. Department of Agriculture, working in firefighting, fuel reduction and timber management in national forests. 

New jobs are being added regularly. Deadlines for summer positions have largely passed, but new postings for hundreds more positions are due later this year or on a rolling basis, such as the Working Lands Program, which is focused on “climate-smart agriculture.”  ...

On the ACC website, applicants can sort jobs by state, work environment and focus area, such as “Indigenous knowledge reclamation” or “food waste reduction.” Job descriptions include an hourly pay equivalent — some corps jobs pay weekly or term-based stipends instead of an hourly wage — and benefits. The site is fairly user-friendly, in part owing to suggestions made by the young people who participated in the ACC listening sessions earlier this year...

The sessions helped determine other priorities as well, Thomas said, including creating good-paying jobs that could lead to long-term careers, as well as alignment with the president’s Justice40 initiative, which mandates that at least 40% of federal climate funds must go to marginalized communities that are disproportionately impacted by climate change and pollution. 

High Country News found that 30% of jobs listed across the West have explicit justice and equity language, from affordable housing in low-income communities to Indigenous knowledge and cultural reclamation for Native youth...

While the administration aims for all positions to pay at least $15 an hour, the lowest-paid position in the West is currently listed at $11 an hour. Benefits also vary widely, though most include an education benefit, and, in some cases, health care, child care and housing. 

All corps members will have access to pre-apprenticeship curriculum through the North America’s Building Trades Union. Matthew Mayers, director of the Green Workers Alliance, called this an important step for young people who want to pursue union jobs in renewable energy. Some members will also be eligible for the federal pathways program, which was recently expanded to increase opportunities for permanent positions in the federal government...

 “To think that there will be young people in every community across the country working on climate solutions and really being equipped with the tools they need to succeed in the workforce of the future,” Thomas said, “to me, that is going to be an incredible thing to see.”"

-via High Country News, June 6, 2024

--

Note: You can browse Climate Corps job postings here, on the Climate Corps website. There are currently 314 jobs posted at time of writing!

Also, it says the goal is to pay at least $15 an hour for all jobs (not 100% meeting that goal rn), but lots of postings pay higher than that, including some over $20/hour!!

[pitchsidestories]

little me (to my sister) II Alexia Putellas x Putellas!Reader

masterlist I word count: 882

a/n: thanks anon for giving us the idea for this story, enjoy 🫶🏻

“Something’s off.”

You looked up in surprise, suddenly torn from your thoughts by Aitanas voice.

She observed you closely through narrowed eyes.

You thought it was funny how she strained to figure out what was wrong.

With an innocent grin you stretched your legs out in front of you and leaned back against the dressing room bench.

“I don’t know what you mean, Tana.”

“Something just feels very wrong today.”, she said once again, her gaze still fixed on you.

You were just waiting for her to finally realize it. The white 11 printed on the chest of your warm-up shirt wasn’t really subtle. Everyone knew which Putellas sister this number belonged to.

“More like looks wrong.”, Mapi corrected the midfielder and winked at you.

A few of your teammates had grouped around you, smiling at each other once they saw you wearing your older sisters shirt.

“Hello? Can you stop staring at me?”, you complained playfully.

Vicky flashed you a lazy grin in reply: “Wait until your sister sees it.”

Luckily, your sister had a habit of putting in some extra work in the gym before your actual training so she left the house early that morning, her shirt unattended in her closet.

“She won’t even notice.”, you calmed Vicky with a laugh.

You were wrong about that.

Alexia walked in a few minutes later, a blush on her cheeks and sweat beads on her forehead from her previous workout while she sipped on some isotonic sports drink.

She only took one look at you and immediately yelled: “Is that my shirt?! You little…”

You raised your eyebrows, surprised that she had stopped herself and curious about what insult she had planned on using: “Little what?”

“I’m going to murder you!”, she replied and took a few threatening strides towards you. The familiar upward curve of her mouth telling you that she wasn’t actually mad at you.

Laughing, you lifted your hands in defense: “Don’t! Remember, I’m mums favourite!”

Your sister gasped offendedly: “You’re not even mums third favourite!”

“That’s not true. Mapi, help me!”, you called your friend while your sister cornered you on the bench, blocking the obvious exit with her body.

Mapi shrugged nonchalantly: “I mean… I really thought she was you for a moment, Ale.”

“What?!”, you both said simultaneously, staring at the defender.

You and Alexia did look similar but there was no way that you looked over thirty years old!

Ingrid put a hand to her girlfriends arm, subtly grimacing: “You offended two Putellas at once, that’s a new record, love.”

“But I agree with Mapi. They look so similar.”, Kika chimed in and was immediately rewarded with a glare from your sister in return.

“Are you saying I look old?!”, you asked the Portuguese woman, your lips formed to a pout.

An amused smile appeared on Alexia’s face. “I’ve to admit I’m a bit flattered by the fact that I still look as young as her.”  

“I can assure you, you don’t.”, you replied teasingly.

“Rude.”, your older sibling commented, punching you playfully.

“You’re basically twice my age.”, you added grinning.

“Don’t exaggerate.”, she laughed, hands resting on her hips.

“I don’t!”, you insisted. The age gap between her and you were thirteen years, and you turned 17 in June. You were forever your mother’s miracle she hadn’t expected anymore but was glad to have received.

“So, are you going to swap shirts or play with each other’s?”, Aitana interjected curiously.

“We’ll swap shirts. Come on, little one.”, Alexia declared in her captain voice.

“Come and get it if you want.”, you gave her a challenging look.

“Don’t play games with me.”, your sister rolled her eyes in an annoyed manner.

“Or what?”, you stuck your tongue out cheekily before starting to jog away from the blonde.

“Fine! I’ll catch you anyway.”, she yelled smirking.

“Prove it.”, you responded, you stumbled over your feet which was then Alexia caught up with you, her body towering over you.

“I got you now give me my shirt.”, the midfielder demanded slightly out of breath, after she started to tickle you.

“Ale, stop!”, you gasped.

“I’ll when you return what belongs to me.”, the captain said.

“Okay, fine. You won.”, you sighed, swapping her shirt for yours.

“Thank you.”, Alexia smiled satisfied.

“Happy now?”

“Very., your sister confirmed, she paused for a moment when continued beaming, this is your friendly reminder that cooking is on you tonight and no, Olga won’t help you this time.”

“I already gave you your shirt back, you could at least let your girlfriend cook for me.”, you whined.

“No, it’s your turn.”, she shook her head.

“Ugh, fine.”, you groaned.

The training was about to start now, the playing time was officially over, and you wanted to prove Pere that you belonged into the squad not because of your famous surname but because of the talent of your own.

Later in the kitchen Olga noticed you struggling with the recipe you were trying to cook, so she stepped inside with a friendly smile on her lips.

“Don’t worry I’ll help you, Ale is busy with business calls, so she won’t notice.”

“When is she not busy?”, you returned smiling.

“Good point.”, your sisters girlfriend admitted.

Gratefulness was spreading in your chest.

[thepromptfoundry]

For July 2024 we're keeping the party going here at the Prompt foundry, celebrating diversity, solidarity, and triumphs won in the fight for rights as we roll right from Queer Pride in June to Disability Pride in July with Pride 2 Disability Boogaloo!

If you use this list, please tag me here @thepromptfoundry, I’d love to see your writing and art!

Feel free to combine different days' prompts with each other, or combine them with other seasonal events! Use your OCs, your favorite characters from media, your own experiences, whatever tickles your fancy.

Respond to as many prompts as you want or as interest you, don’t worry about missing or skipping any. Remember, this is supposed to be fun!

If you have any questions or musings, check our FAQ, and if you don't find your answer, shoot me an ask.

Plain text list below the cut:

1 We’ve always been here 2 Growing up disabled 3 Mobility aides 4 Curb-cut effect 5 Memory loss 6 Dignity 7 Limb difference 8 Sensory sensitivity 9 Autonomy 10 Invisible disability 11 Family 12 Nonverbal 13 Communication 14 Deaf or Hard of Hearing 15 Support 16 Technology 17 Pain 18 Rest 19 Facial difference 20 Space for us 21 Neurological disability 22 Neurodiversity 23 Becoming disabled 24 Allergy 25 Chronic condition 26 Genetics 27 Skin difference 28 Maintenance 29 Respecting limits 30 Solidarity 31 A future for us

Have fun!

[wonhes]

WARNINGS: ….. angst 😺👍 + cursing

☁︎ — JUNE 24TH, 2024 10:58 PM

blinking to try and comprehend what they heard, they all blankly look at each other as anton’s words continue ringing in their heads. trying their best to put into words what they were all thinking, they continue staring at each other in complete disbelief. shotaro is the first to break the silence by loudly scoffing at his younger friend.

shaking his head at him, he takes a step forward towards anton. bringing the back of his hand up, he smacks anton’s chest causing anton to let out a small “ow.”

“and what the actual fuck posessed you to say that?” shotaro asks, disapproval written all over his tone.

“it was a joke!” anton quickly yells back as he rubs his chest.

“look around,” eunseok states as he moves to point at the rest of the boys. “is anybody laughing?”

“i panicked, i’m sorry!” anton sighs, bringing a hand up to nervously chew on one of his fingernails. “i was just trying to lighten the mood,” he mumbles to himself.

“you said sohee was going to get a restraining order against her!” wonbin quickly yells back. “in what world is that funny?”

“okay, i did not say it like that!” anton immediately argues back, shaking his head at wonbin’s words. he doesn’t understand why everyone is making such a big fuss. anton swears he has jokingly told sohee that before and it didn’t result in him crying. he genuinely does not understand why him making that joke towards you led to you crying and locking yourself up in your room.

“if anyone should get a restraining order is yn but on this guy over here,” eunseok sighs shaking his head as he uses his index finger to point towards seunghan’s direction.

rolling his eyes at eunseok’s comment, seunghan brings a hand up to flip eunseok off; this instantly causing eunseok to flip seunghan back with both of his hands.

“she literally texts him everyday! i was just trying to be funny,” anton continued on defending himself, ignoring the two boys bickering.

“god,” shotaro sighs once more. “anton, do you not know how to read a room?”

“your sister is in love with sohee,” shotaro states. with wide eyes, anton quickly looks at your friends for confirmation. when getting the confirmation he needed, he awkwardly shifts in his spot.

“she texts him every day probably hoping he’s going to magically unblock her one of these days– she wants to work things out with him but he refuses to hear her out,” shotaro sighs, shaking his head at sohee’s way of handling the situation. “you told her he was out of town so that most likely caused her to believe you’re still in contact with him–” shotaro continues explaining. “you made a tasteless joke about sohee getting a restraining order against her so she most definitely believes that came out of his mouth.” shotaro finally concludes.

“do you now understand why your sister is crying or do i have to dumb it down some more?” shotaro speaks up once more causing eunseok to let out a small snicker at his choice of words.

“wait—” eunseok’s eyes immediately go wide. “yn,” he says, turning to his friends as they all instantly gasp and make their way up the stairs to go to your room and comfort you.

from up the stairs, eunseok turns back for a brief second and points down at seunghan. “and don’t you dare step foot upstairs,” he states before turning back to continue walking up the stairs.

rolling his eyes at eunseok’s comment, seunghan lightly pats both shotaro and anton’s chest to signal them to follow the rest up the stairs.

JUNE 24TH, 2024 11:13 PM

“baby, open the door,” wonbin sighs as he continues to knock at your door. turning back to look at sungchan and eunseok, he shakes his head at them.

“pretty girl?” sungchan tries now, jiggling your doorknob.

“sugar plum, please!” eunseok desperately yells out, wanting nothing more than to be there for you.

“baby? sugar plum? pretty girl? what the fuck?” seunghan mumbles to himself, confused on the sudden pet names you were receiving.

shaking his head at seunghan, wonbin couldn’t help but roll his eyes at him. “platonically, asshole.”

“you’re just mad yn didn’t like it when you called her pretty girl,” eunseok quickly shot back, turning to smirk at the shorter boy.

gasping at his words, shotaro and anton bring a hand up to smack their friend. “you called her ‘pretty girl’?” shotaro asks in full on disbelief.

“you fucking called my sister ‘pretty girl’?” anton angrily asks.

“ow–” seunghan states as he begins rubbing his head and arm. “sungchan just called her that and nobody fucking cared!”

“she’s my best friend!” sungchan quickly reasons back. “besides, it’s platonically. yours on the other hand was not.”

“eunseok, what else has he done.” anton asks as he continues to angrily eye his friend.

“oh, i’ll gladly tell you–” eunseok begins as he turns to look at seunghan’s panic figure shaking his head at him, pleading him to stop.

“yn,” shotaro randomly speaks up. at the sound of his voice, everyone shifts their attention towards him and watch as he brings a hand up to knock at your door.

“what the fuck are you doing?” anton whispers out towards his older friend.

“trust me,” shotaro quickly answers back before softly knocking once more. “i know you don’t know me like that but it’s shotaro,” shotaro quietly says.

“i’m really close to sohee,” he adds as he continues speaking to you against your door. “you-” at the sound of the door unlocking and swinging open he closes his mouth.

“i didn’t kiss seunghan,” you quickly state, looking up at shotaro with tears spilling from your eyes.

softly smiling down at you, he nods his head at your words. “i know,” he reassures you.

“please tell him that,” you desperately plea with him.

as you watch him shake his head at you, you feel your bottom lip start to quiver. looking up at him once more you try to plea once again.

“i’m not going to tell him because you are,” shotaro says, sending you a warm smile as he takes out his phone to text sohee.

“i’m going to text sohee and tell him i’m coming over so he’ll know to expect someone over,” shotaro tells you as he finishes typing on his phone. “but instead of it being me, it’ll be you.”

shaking your head at his words, you couldn’t help but let tears spill. desperately running to whichever one of your friends was closest to you for emotional support.

“oof,” wonbin softly says, taken back at the sudden contact. quickly snapping out of it, he brings his hands to your frame to hug you back.

“he’s going to get a restraining order,” you sob, hiding your head on his chest.

hearing your words, eunseok annoyingly turns to anton as he brings a hand to slap the back of his head. “you fucking see what you did?”

“baby, he’s not going to get a restraining order,” wonbin lightly laughs to try and reassure you. “do you know how silly that sounds?”

“sohee told anton,” you mumble, hugging wonbin tighter to try and calm yourself down.

angrily turning to look at your younger brother, it’s sungchan’s turn to slap the back of anton’s head. “you fucking see?”

“ow— it was a fucking joke!” anton whispers back.

“he’s not going to get a restraining order, i promise,” shotaro states, side eyeing anton in complete annoyance. “sohee never said that, i swear.”

“i can even show you our texts–” shotaro continues trying as he takes his phone out of his pocket. “he wouldn’t do that.”

“he wants to talk things out, trust me. he’s just hard headed.” the older boy tells you.

“very hard headed,” seunghan mumbles to himself, agreeing with shotaro.

discreetly nodding his head at their words, eunseok slowly makes his way to where you and wonbin were standing.

“move. my turn!” eunseok pushes wonbin off of you and quickly takes over, hugging you gently as he places a quick kiss on the top of your head.

“what the actual fuck is your problem, eunseok!?” wonbin groans, shaking his head at his friend as he dusts himself off.

“what? i’m just trying to be here for my best friend,” eunseok reasons, causing you to let out a small chuckle at their banter.

“okay! now, it’s my turn,” sungchan says, making his way towards you.

smiling at the sight of you no longer crying, anton begins walking towards you as well. “i’m sorry you have a stupid little brother,” he sighs as he sends you a sad smile.

“i got nervous and made a dumb joke,” anton admits to you as he nervously scratches the back of his neck. “i’m also so fucking sorry for the way i spoke to you the other day, you didn’t deserve that all.”

“i don’t know what i was thinking. i was just so angry and instead of taking it out on seunghan– like i should’ve– i took it out on you,” anton sadly states, completely ignoring seunghan reaction at his sudden words. “i-” anton continues once more but stops at the feeling of your arms wrapped around his torso.

“it’s okay toni,” you softly smile up at him.

“not trying to interrupt anything,” shotaro speaks up, taking a step forward as he looks down at his phone “sohee texted back.”

at the sound of sohee’s name, you instantly turn to look back at shotaro. sending you a small smile your way, he nods at you. “go.”

“go get your sohee.”

☁︎ — JUNE 25TH, 2024 12:26 AM

with a shaky breath, you close your eyes to try and calm yourself down before bringing a hand up to ring his doorbell. at the sound of his doorbell ringing you feel your heart hammer against your chest even faster— if that was even possible. now or never, you keep quietly mumbling to yourself as an attempt to calm down.

“taro-” sohee tiredly says as he opens his door. at the sight of you in front of him, sohee does a complete double take and stares at you with wide eyes.

“h-hi,’ you quietly mumble, nervously playing with your hands.

staring back at you, sohee couldn’t help but take notice on how red your eyes were. have you been crying? sohee sadly asks himself. he feels himself wanting to reach out for you to reassure you everything was okay. but instead, he quickly shakes his head at his thoughts, forcing yourself to snap out of it. you’re with seunghan, he reminds himself.

“go home yn,” sohee sighs as he tightly grips on the door handle.

“baby, can we please talk?” you desperately ask, taking a step closer to him.

“don’t-” he closes his eyes to try and calm himself down. “don’t call me that.”

“pretty boy-”

“is this funny to you?” sohee groans out as he steps outside while looking at you with tears in his eyes. “stop teasing me and go home.”

“i’m not-” you try but get interrupted by sohee’s scoff. “sohee, please.”

“yn, what do you want to talk about?” sohee asks, shaking his head at you. “if you wanted seunghan, you could’ve told me, you know?” he sadly states. “i would’ve backed off.”

“i don’t-”

“i heard you and anton talking that day,’ sohee cuts you off, not wanting to hear any of your lies. “god, i’m so fucking stupid.”

“baby, you’re not,” you quickly move towards him to comfort him causing him to take a step back, away from you. sadly looking down at the space between y’all, you try and swallow your tears despite your heart breaking by the second.

“please, go home.” sohee tries again, gesturing you to walk away

“i’m not going anywhere until you listen to me,” you firmly state, shaking your head at him. “bab-”

“don’t call me that!” sohee brokenly stops you. “you lost the privilege to call me that the second you decided you wanted my best friend,” he angrily brings a hand to wipe away his tears.

“i don’t-” you try talking once again but are once again stopped by sohee talking over you.

“i’ve been so fucking in love with and i thought-” sohee gulps. “i thought you were starting to feel the same way too. i thought it was finally mutual.”

“sohee,” you sadly say as you take a step forward to grab his hand. not having it in him to move once again, sohee lets you grab him. letting out a small sniffle, he brings his attention back towards you. at the sight of his tear stained cheeks you feel your heart break all over again.

“d-do you like seunghan?” sohee hesitantly asks as more tears begin to cloud his vision.

“baby, no,” you gently say, as you bring a hand to cup his cheek and wipe away his tears. “i like you.”

“then why did you kiss him?” he sniffles.

“i didn’t kiss him,” you begin, causing sohee to shake his head at your words and take a step back away from your touch.

“baby,” you desperately try to reach out for him. placing both of your hands on his cheeks, you try and get him to look at you. “look at me, please.”

listening to you, sohee hesitantly removes his focus from the ground and makes eye contact with you.

“the thought of you and seunghan together hurts me so fucking much,” sohee admittedly whispers out. shaking your head at his words, you bring a hand down and place it against his, intertwining his fingers with yours. “it hurts— it hurts so much,” he repeatedly mumbles.

“i didn’t kiss seunghan.” you reassure him.

“but, anton said-”

“i didn’t kiss seunghan but anton did walk in on seunghan trying to kiss me,” you hesitantly told him. processing your words, sohee finds himself letting go of your hand and creating distance between you two.

“baby, wait. please listen to me,” you say, catching his hand before it fully slipped away.

“were you gonna kiss him back?” sohee asks, looking down at you with watery eyes.

“no.” you immediately reassure him. “i only ever want to kiss you.”

“have you ever had feelings for seunghan?” sohee sadly asks, still trying to piece together the whole situation. “please don’t lie to me.”

☁︎ — JUNE 25TH, 2024 1:48 AM

sitting down on his bed, you nervously chew on your bottom lip as you wait for sohee to speak up. you were finally able to explain everything and he’s been quietly processing the situation ever since.

“why didn’t you tell me he was pursuing you?” sohee breaks the silence, looking at you with hurt written all over his eyes.

“i didn’t want to hurt you,” you try reasoning with him. “i thought i was protecting you—”

“bab- yn” sohee sighs. “that’s not protecting me, that’s leaving me in the dark.”

“my best friend was going after my girlfriend, don’t you think i would want to know that?” sohee bitterly laughs. “i would’ve loved to know that my girlfriend once had feelings for him too.”

“baby, it was just a tiny crush.” you quickly jump to your defense. “i was in denial—”

“you still should’ve told me,” sohee lets out one last sigh as he brings his hands up to rub his eyes.

“i should’ve,” you nod your head at him and shift your focus down to your hands.

“it’s getting late you should go-”

“that’s it?” you sadly ask, looking at him with wide eyes.

“are we still-”

“we can be friends,” sohee cuts you off, offering you a small smile. “i don’t think we should date.”

“ever?” you quietly ask. “never again?”

“c-can i fix this?” you hesitantly ask. scooting closer to him, you take his hand in yours. “i can fix this, i promise.”

“yn,” sohee mumbles, wiping away your tears with his thumb.

“this was all just a big misunderstanding,” you desperately plea with him.

“pretty girl, you still kept secrets from me,” sohee softly states. “i’m not mad at you,” he reassures you. “we can still talk but as friends— at least just for now.”

“friends,” you defeatedly state, scared that if you continue pushing he might completely pull away from you again.

not being able to help himself, sohee leans forward and places a gentle kiss on your forehead. there’s no denying that he still holds— and will always hold— strong feelings for you but truth be told, he’s terrified to try again. so, he’ll settle for a friendship instead, at least just for now. “friends.”

☁︎ — CLOUD 9

CHAPTER 44 — friends

summary !! after years of constant pining after his best friend’s sister, yn finally takes notice of sohee and sohee swears he’s on cloud 9. or in other words, loser sohee finally gets the girl.

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CLOUD 9 MASTERLIST

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[notanactressyay]

— ₊˚⊹ 𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐬

— ₊⊹ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 . Natasha Romanoff x fem! reader

— ₊⊹ 𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 . she takes her time to explore you closely, as if compensating the time she didn't notice your true needs.

— ₊⊹ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 . smut! i am not responsible for your content consumption! — reader being needy, swearing, pet names, making out, oral, strap on, begging, possessive Nat, multiple orgasms. r receives all. soft sex. no real plot.

— ₊⊹ 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 . just because i'm in need of a very soft Natasha to take care of me. 😣

fic started: june, 23, 2024, 11:55pm. | finished: june, 25, 2024, 11:42pm.

dividers belong to: @/anitalenia and @/rookthornesartistry ₊⊹

you weren't sleeping. your eyelids were shut, but she could tell you weren't asleep. she felt your heavy breathing, and how changed depending on her actions. under the covers, the only thing separating you both being the silk sleepwear you were in. the thin shorts rolled up whenever she shifted, and the skin to skin contact coaxed a small whimper out of you. Natasha was used to sleeping only in her lingerie, and the fact you wore babydolls didn't bother her — not at all. she could use it to her advantage. to tease you, when she felt like doing so.

the room became a hundred times hotter as she nuzzled into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent, emphasized by your body lotions. her palm slides under your top, pressing flat against your stomach, counting the exact amount of times you inhaled and exhaled. rapidly.

"is there a reason why you're still awake, dorogaya?" she purrs into your ear. the groan you let out, as if admitting you got caught, amuses her. you turn around in the embrace, so now you're both face to face. "no no no. let me rephrase. is there a reason why you're still awake, and letting me touch you like this?"

you sigh, hand moving up to cup her cheek. she leans against your palm, but keeps the questioning, almost teasing look up. you decide to stay silent, for a while. the reason was almost.. silly, in your point of view. but Natasha knew you. more than you knew, in more ways than you could imagine. so she took note of your response and continued with her test.

she pulls you closer, and her hand moves from your stomach to your waist, giving it a light squeeze. her fingertips are delicate against your skin. you sigh quietly, grabbing a strand of her red hair and begining to twirl it on your fingers. "i miss you."

"you miss me?" she inquires softly, eyeing you up and down. she had imagined it was something to do with that, but not that you'd stay awake at night missing her without reaching out for her.

"i mean.." you clear your throat, not knowing how to put your thoughts, desires, into words. "it's not your fault. it's just.."

it was just the fact that you missed being truly seen. taken care of. the last times you and Natasha had sex were extremely rushed, since she had to be awake early in the morning, or for whatever reason. but now that she had taken a break from missions, it could be the perfect chance for you to properly catch up.

"just tell me." the redhead demands. she leans on her ewbol, next to your head, looking down into your eyes. her hair gently falls against your face, and you tuck the locks behind her ears.

"can you.." you sigh. a timid smile tugs on your lips, your voice barely audible. "can you make love to me?

her eyes brighten up, lips parting to say something, but closing afterwards. god, imagining you saying it was something, but hearing you ask for it? her heart melted completely. the woman leans down, face close to yours. she slowly begins to pull the blankets downwards, to the end of the bed. "ask me again, baby."

"Nat," you shakily breathe and glance at her hand, heart beating faster in anticipation. "fuck me, please."

"oh, shit," she mutters to herself. for such a long time, she wanted to properly have her way with you, and the fact you took so long to ask disappointed her somehow. but it wasn't time for that.

she sits up on the bed, both hands grabbing your waist and pulling you onto her lap, so you're straddling her. the sudden action makes you gasp, which turns into a giggle as you see the sparkle in her eyes. your hands grab her shoulders, and you hold onto each other, pressed up, finally, closely. she doesn't want to talk, but makes sure her eyes passes you the message. don't ever hesitate on communicating with me again. your eyes close, enjoying her proximity, the fuzzy feeling her closeness gave you — before she grabbed your chin, and claimed your lips with hers. you almost immediately moan, returning the slow kiss.

seconds go by of your lips just being pressed against one another, so just then her tongue would slip in your mouth and dance with yours. you felt so warm, everything was warm. especially the spot between your legs. her nails graze upon your back, making you shiver and want to get rid of those clothes as soon as possible. as you pull away from the kiss, a small strand of saliva still connects you, and neither of you bother to break it.

"i'll take me time with you," her lips trail kisses down your chin, to your shoulder blade, hands tightening on your torso. "take it as an apology for not giving you what you deserve, malyshka."

"Natasha," you moan, head tilting back. you allow your weight to fall on her, body completely in her grasp, utterly hers — to do as she pleased. "i-i don't blame you.. you don't have to—"

"quietly, now," she husks out, forcing your head to look at her.

she wanted you to know you could openly tell her your desires and fantasies, she needed you to. and in case that possibly happened again — you, hiding yourself — the spy needed to know every little spot that made you moan out her name, all the ways she could make you go crazy for her. make you come so much, just to remind you all she wanted to do was make you feel good, make you satisfied.

"take those pajamas off." the redhead commands gently, tugging on the silk fabric and quickly standing up from the bed.

your breath hitches again, watching her figure leave the mattress. you oblige, pulling the top over your head, and sliding the shorts down your thighs. Natasha walked over to the closet, which was coincidentally by the window. it was late night, so the moonlight shone on her hair — the beautiful red locks falling down her back. that woman, so goddamn gorgeous. your eyes were locked on her figure as she slowly god rid of the wine-red lace underwear that once covered her. she was now nude, and purposefully showing herself to you. what couldn't get better, did — you were almost drooling now. she took the strap you most liked from the dresser's drawer, putting on herself and tightening it on her hips.

"underwear off, too, princess. do i gotta remind ya?" she smirks and walks over to you, winking. when you strip out of it, she kneels down in front of the bed and pats the end of the mattress. "c'mere."

you certainly got wetter with that. crawling over, you sat where she wanted you, feet now touching the floor. she kisses your knee, and thighs, slowly spreading them. her face slowly approached your core, eyeing you intensely.

"god, you're visibly dripping." she moans, placing her hands on your hips to pull you towards her. so, she devours you.

your head tilts back instantly. the walls feel like closing in, all the sounds suddenly dying around you and the only thing you could focus on were the sensations. Natasha's experience never showed more until now — lips slowly, but surely sucking on your clitoris, then her tongue, sliding in between your folds, going deep into you.

"mhm, fuck," your mouth parts, fingers making a makeshift ponytail of her hair to get it out of the way. your body arches forwards, meeting the thrusts of her tongue in and out you. she finds your g-spot, contently humming to herself as you moan louder. "yes, yes, don't— d-don't stop,"

that familiar feeling of a knot building inside your lower stomach starts to wash over you as long as she repeats her motions, but now, it just feels.. more. it has something else to it when the person's determined to do something. doesn't take long before your eyes squeeze hard, a gasp escaping your throat, and Natasha feels your walls clenching around her tongue.

"i'm coming, i'm, i—" you quickly mutters as you come. the russian's mouth opens wider, welcoming in your sweetness. her hands gently grab onto your ribs to contain the spasms going through your body. she smiles.

"good job," she coos, pressing a kiss to your hip and crawling upwards again. she gives you time to enjoy and recover from your first high. but it was only the start.

"feel s'good, Nat," you whimper, eyebrows furrowed as you reach out for her. seeing you like this did something to her. "more."

"you want more, don't you?" she hisses, body hovering yours. her hands grab your hips, shifting your position on the bed so that you're even more in display for her. "that's good, detka. i was just making sure you're wet enough for me to fuck you, like i really want to."

she spreads your legs once more, and without warning, lines the strap towards your entrance and shoves into your pussy with little effort. you gasp loudly, feeling sensitive but deliciously filled, after so long. Natasha takes your legs and throw them over her shoulders, allowing you to feel her deeper and deeper, allowing her own body to press up against yours — hard nipples rubbing against themselves, sweaty skins gliding on each other. she gasps as well, feeling more connected to you than ever. she wondered, how good it would be to actually feel your cunt clench around her. that drove her wild. the silicone material drags up across your walls, just to completely slam in again, hips slapping soundly.

"please, oh, my goodness," you mutter, grabbing onto Natasha's arms tightly, keeping her close. her body rubbed against yours with each thrust, and you both still felt like it wasn't enough. "i fucking love you,"

"i love you so, so much, krasivaya," she huskily manages, breathing rapidly and squeezing your body with all her might. "so beautiful taking all of me."

you're barely aware of what you're doing as your hands caress up her back, shoulders and neck, savouring the feeling of her skin, and the little scars that painted the canvas of her body. the fake cock snugly brushes over and over in you, it gets hard to hold back the moans you let out in Natasha's ear. she pounds into you quickly, surprisingly finding somewhere else which made you cry out.

"oh, please, Nat," you beg, back arching off the bed. your hands slid down her hips, giving her rear a squeeze, encouraging her to go faster. "right there. right fucking there."

"so eager." she hums, continuously hitting where you wanted, before you couldn't take it anymore. your legs shook as another heavenly pleasure consumed you, an almost embarrassing moan coming out of you.

"Natasha~" your head fell back against the pillow, nails scratching her back, cum soaking the length of the toy.

your eyes stayed close for a long while — you weren't even sure how long, just when she started with slow thrusts, that eventually quieted down, and the before you knew, her head was resting right above your heart. weakly, she pulls out of you and sets the toy aside to be cleaned later.

"feeling better, baby?" she murmurs. you smile softly, satisfied. you don't speak yet. she sees your expression of bliss, and that was enough for her. "promise me you wont hide your desires from me anymore?"

you breathlessly sigh, and nod. "i promise,"

she cuddles up against you and brings you to the top of the bed with her, properly laying down on the pillows. the blankets were probably on the other corner of the world right now, but you were both too warm still, so they weren't needed.

"thank you, Nat," you murmur, curling yourself up into her. her hand cradles the back of your head, feeling your messy, tangled hair.

"always, my girl." Natasha gives your lips a final peck, and don't say anything else, nor do.

you both relaxed, but the most important, you felt cared, loved. it was undescribable how glad you were for having that woman in your life, in all aspects.

[midnightsslut]

A Guide to Red - The Quintessential Taylor Swift Album

After the release of The Manuscript, the role of Red and Red (Taylor’s Version) in Taylor’s life and discography has been highly discussed. A lot of people have referred to it as her magnum opus and most formative album. I have decided to compile a condensed list of about a dozen key interviews, performances, speeches, posts, and videos from 2011 all the way until 2024 that illustrate the importance of this record for Taylor’s personal life and career. I’m putting the list under a cut because it got pretty long. You don’t have to go through all of these, obviously, but I would suggest at least one per era. The bolded ones are essential in my opinion.

Pre-Red - These interviews hint at Taylor’s emotional state at the time and thus the content that will be explored on the Red album

2011 The New Yorker profile

Taylor Swift reveals new album is all about heartbreak - Extra TV

Bonus: an article going through Taylor’s arm lyrics on the Speak Now World Tour, which she described as mood rings for any particular show

Lover diary entries from the making of Red (credit to @cabincreaking for the scans)

- All Too Well lyrics first draft (February 2011)

- Random bursts of happiness and anxiety during the Speak Now Tour (June 17, 2011)

- Red (September 8, 2011)

- Holy Ground (February 2012)

- Nothing New (March 2, 2012)

- Working with Max Martin (June 10, 2012)

Red era - Listen to the original sixteen songs on the Red album at this point.

Red announcement livestream + Q&A

Red prologue

2012 Rolling Stone interview

2012 The Guardian interview

2012 Billboard interview

2012 Esquire interview

Sirius XM Town Hall - an hourlong interview from the day Red came out

Good Morning America - this is the first mention of the ten-minute version of All Too Well

Red track-by-track descriptions

Random interview where she discusses the connection between writing Speak Now and Red

I Knew You Were Trouble music video

Diary entry about how love is fiction and she might move to New York after all (January 6, 2014)

Diary entry from Grammy night (January 25, 2014)

Red Tour London performance of All Too Well - any performance of this song from 2013-14 will work here, but this one has a pretty comprehensive speech

Final performance of All Too Well on the Red Tour - just listen to the speech here

Post-Red era - Over the course of these interviews, you’ll see her relationship to the album evolve.

Taylor’s description of Clean (skip to 11:18)

2014 BBC Live Lounge interview

1989 World Tour interview where she mentions thinking she’d never sell as many albums as she did with Red before 1989 came out

Clean speech - a lot of these will work, but these two best describe her relationship with the Red era and heartbreak in general

All Too Well (The 1989 World Tour live)

2015 GrammyPro interview

All Too Well Super Saturday Night performance

Reputation Tour All Too Well speech

Red into Daylight performance - 2019 City of Lover concert in Paris

Re-recordings era - at this point, listen to the red vault

2020 Rolling Stone podcast

Red (Taylor’s Version) prologue

2021 Saturday Night Live performance

All Too Well: The Short Film + Behind the Scenes

Seth Meyers interview

2022 Tribeca film talk OR TIFF (both are equally good. I have a slight preference for the former, but there are some interesting new details in the latter). You could also watch directors on directors from the same year as a bonus, but it’s less comprehensive.

2022 Graham Norton - How All Too Well (10 Minute Version) came about + how the re-recordings inspired Midnights

Also listen to Midnights

The Eras Tour

All Too Well speech (Glendale Night 2 & Atlanta Night 1) - any of the speeches from March and April 2023 will work, but these two really illustrate how she feels about this time in her life now and how the fans changed the Red album for her. Obviously credit to @cages-boxes-hunters-foxes for the transcripts!

Maroon first ever live performance (‘This is a song about something that happened a long time ago, but it took place in New York’)

Aaaand finally listen to The Tortured Poets Department, especially The Manuscript

This is a lot, but it’s worth it. Enjoy!

[theshitpostcalligrapher]

req'd by @intergalacticrats

this reads like an unhinged text from your 11 year old cousin the second june rolls in

text: Still in the closet, fruit bowl?

[gallusrostromegalus]

How old's everyone by the time canon bleach rolls around?

Well that's an interesting question that I have devoted way too much thought to.

Most people in soul society age at the normal pace of one year per year, so they only have One Age, but even a tiny excess of spiritual energy can make some age much slower, and in Seireitei, which is full of Spiritually Potent People, most people have two ages- Calendar and Living Age. Calendar is how many years someone has existed, Living is approximately what developmental age they're at. Most Shinigami age at about one year for every 2-5 Lived, with average "died of natural causes and not in the line of duty" lifespans coming to 200-400 years. Power Level has a HEAVY Inverse correlation to aging, but once you hit the power levels associated with Seated officers and captains, things get Weird. Also fatal. Very few captains have died of Natural Causes.

But re: Everyone's ages in June 2000, when the series starts under the cut:

Karakura Gang:

The Kids are not dead yet, so not Subject to the extended lifepsans yet, but I did age everyone up a bit- Ichigo and his Human Friends are all Juniors in High school- age 17... ish.

Ichigo's 18th birthday occurs a couple weeks after he meets Rukia. He was held back from starting Kindergarten for a year because he was too short to reach the drinking fountains.

Chad was tall and his parents were both working full time so his mom persuaded his school to let him in early, so Chad only had his 17th birthday the month before he meets Rukia.

Kon: CA: 132 (9 years in his body) LA: 3, but in cat years, so really more like 22 in human years. An grad student in charge of a pack of teenagers.

Rukia: A Member of the Karakura Gang by association (i.e. my staging notes), Rukia is CA: 73 and LA: 20. She and Renji entered the academy when they were CA:25 and LA: 16. Like many high-powered shinigami, her rate of aging is slowing as she accumulates power, so she will likely live to see at least 500 (unless something happens)

Renji: See: Rukia. Rukia is eight months older than Renji and NEVER lets him forget it.

Kisuke Urahara: CA: 328 LA: 32.4545454545- Urahara is aging at one year for every 11 lived which pleases him because at least once a century his ages will line up and he'll have a straight shot of numbers and that's CLEARLY an excuse to have a MEGA birthday party and give him extra presents! He'll be 333 AND 33 in 2005, so Ichigo should start planning his surprise party!

Yoruichi Shihoin: CA: 329 LA: 28 Yoruichi is 365 days older than Kisuke (He was born in 1672) a leap year) and NEVER lets him forget it.

Isshin Shiba: CA: UUUH- LA: UUUUUUUH- Isshin Shiba was born to the Shiba Clan in 1846, was 154 when he vanished in 1980, appears to be in his mid-forties now, and can only actually REMEMBER the last 20 years of his life with any Clarity. The battle with White left his soul so damaged that when he fused with Masaki, he lost all his spiritual powers and forgot damn near everything- he remembers his given name, the name and face of Kaien Shiba but not how he knows him, that shinigami and hollows exist... but when he overheard Ryuken Ishida lying to the hospital staff that this was his friend from medical school who had been in a terrible car accident, he believed him, and assumed he WAS a doctor that had been in a terrible accident. Masaki was just as frightened of the Shinigami coming after the Quincy. While she could keep her relatives at bay, she couldn't fool the shinigami, so she asked the others to make sure Isshin never tried to return to spirit world... and they went along with it. As far as Isshin knows, Urahara was a guy he worked for as a teenager who helped him set up shop as a doctor after the accident. Yoruichi really is someone he used to be on the intramural volleyball team with back in college. Shinji is some guy who knew his parents, and decided to stay a friend of the family even after after they died in the accident. He and Masaki were married in a beautiful ceremony some weeks ago... Shame they lost all the pictures... Ichigo's promotion to Substitute Shinigami and the confrontation about "You used to be a CAPTAIN?? Why didn't you warn me and the twins about anything???" is one HELL of a shock for him.

Soul Society:

Genryusai Shigekuni Yamamoto: CA: 2,146 LA: 75 He was enjoying a Long Prime Middle Age until his Divorce in 1196, at which point he went bald, went gray and lost a significant amount of his muscle mass in under a decade, and has looked like an Old Man since.

Chojiro Sasakibe: CA: 1,358 LA: 66 (debated). Chojiro was barely 100 years old when he turned up at Yamamoto's Post Officer Self-Defense Dojo and refused to leave. His Lived Age is a secret known only to Unohana- the debate rages because Sasakibe was born with his Silver Fox hair, and with that removed, shows very little signs of aging. He insists he "-Just keep myself very well." and refuses to elaborate. He has a standing agreement with the SWA that his LA over various years may be revealed after he dies, so they may let people lay bets, on the condition that they give him a percentage when laid to support his Black Tea Habit.

---

Soi Fon: CA: 201 LA: 29 Soi Fon has genetically terrific skin and if her mother is any indication, she'll look like a twentysomething until she hits menopause. THEN she'll look like a Silver Fox.

Marechiyo Omaeda: CA: 102 LA: 24 Omaeda has only been Lieutenant for 14 years, taking over the position early after his father (the previous 2nd Division lieutenant) had an extremely unexpected stroke. He's recovering well, but doesn't want to return because he's so proud of Marechiyo.

---

Ichimaru Gin: CA:DEBATABLE, but at least 357 LA: 21 Gin has several days that *could* count as his "Birthday" but he's existed in his current body for as long as Rangiku has known him.

Rojuro "Rose" Otoribashi: CA: 312 LA: 37 Rose was promoted to captain a bare 2 years ago when TBTP happens, and is considered Young for a captain. In terms of Living Age, he's one of the oldest Visored.

Izuru Kira: CA: 89 LA: 23 He was a bit older than Rukia and Renji in CA and LA when he entered the Academy. He could have entered sooner but he was the sole caregiver for both his parents, who died premature deaths of chronic illnesses.

---

Retsu Unohana: CA: 804 LA: "As old as my tongue and a little older than my teeth." According to the official records, Retsu Unohana enrolled in Shin'o Academy in 1198, and when asked her age, said "I became as I am last year" Which the intake officer interpreted to mean that she died and appeared as an adult in Spirit World in 1197, and she has absolutely failed to correct that misconception. Or update the public records regarding her age.

Yachiru Unohana: CA 1,497 LA: 37 To her credit, Unohana DID die when she was 17 and appeared in the afterlife at the age she died at. Then she barely aged by the time Yamamoto recruited her in 998. She served as Kenpachi of the 11th Divisison for 199 years, until her battle with an as-yet-unnamed young man in 1197. Shortly after her 200th year as Kenpachi passed, she came to terms with the fact she was no longer the fighter she was, and fell in battle to her lieutenant. With that, "Yachiru" Unohana died, and the following day she enrolled in the academy under the name Retsu to study medicine.

Isane Koetetsu: CA: 282 LA: 28 Isane and her sister Kiyone are unusual for Shinigami in that the Koetesu clan has some of the slowest-aging shinigami in it, and the slowed aging STARTS as infants. Isane couldn't even enroll in Shin'o Academy until her 100th birthday, and even then she needed special dispensation to let what was functionally a 10-year old take college classes.

Hanataro Yamada: CA: 141 LA: 23 Hanataro is the younger brother of Former 4th div Lieutenant Seinosuke Yamada, who now runs the Seireitei Medical Center i.e. The Rich Bitch Hospital. Hanataro entered the academy at a very young age like Isane and graduated with honors, but people tend to compare him to his more accomplished older brother, which both of them think is Unfair seeing as Seinosuke is a whole 112 years older than him. Hanatarou started in the 4th division at the tender age of 42/14, and some of the other medics decided to prank the lieutenant's baby brother by sending him to do the initial medical checkup of newly-appointed 11th division captain Zaraki. When he failed to return for six hours, Seinosuke went into a panicked rage and ran to the 11th, ready to make Zaraki the shortest-serving captain ever if need be, only to discover Hanataro patiently vaccinating and enthusiastic Zaraki for EVERYTHING, a process that was taking a while because Zaraki's spiritual pressure kept breaking the needles. Hanataro has been the 11th Division Pocket Medic ever since, to the detriment of Seinosuke's blood pressure. Zaraki encouraged his interest in Toxicology by bringing him dozens of venomous snakes to milk while on field expeditions, also much to the detriment of Seinosuke's blood pressure.

---

Sosuke Aizen: CA: 432 LA: 47 Aizen was born an identical twin, but was the only brother to inherit any spiritual powers. The boy's mother was caught and killed by an enraged shopkeep stealing food to feed a half-starving Sosuke when they were young children. The boys managed to get jobs in another city working at a candy store, and did so well that the owner left the store to them when he retired. Sosuke's marketing talents and Sosato's culinary skills made "My Brother's Candy" a wild success, and soon they were opening franchise stores, and became popular minor celebrities in their district. Sosuke even married and had children- and grand children, and was an active member of his district government and merchants council, personally opening up several schools and water treatment facilities. Then, shortly after he and Sosato celebrated their 88th birthday, tragedy struck. There was a massive flood that lead to a massive crop failure that lead to a massive disease outbreak, which lead to major political upheaval, which lead to Sosuke and his brother having to flee their home. Unfortunately, Sosato dearly loved his brother, and when the hail of arrows came down on them from the soldiers pursing the civilians, Sosato decided that he was near the end of his life anyway, while Sosuke- still functionally in his 20's- had so much to live for, and put himself between his brother and the onslaught. And so Sosuke Aizen went from Revered Councilor, Celebrated Candymaker, beloved Great-grandfather and Twin to an Exile and the sole survivor of his name. He joined the Shinigami, determined to make the Soul Society a better place where what happened to him would never happen again- only to discover that he was at the mercy of a corrupt and incompetent government, and worse, an apparently uncaring God. Until one night when he had a dream- all the pieces of his study of Kido came together and he realized there WAS a way to fix all this- He just had to become God. With that, Gin slithered away into the night and deep into the far districts, so he could assume a human form and forge an identity Aizen wouldn't question when they met back up again.

Shinji Hirako: CA: 412 LA: 31 Shinji genuinely thought he could get away with impersonating a high schooler to spy on Ichigo- after all, he still looked like he was what, 22? With the right clothes and some recent slang- "Why is there some creepy old guy wearing the school uniform?" Ichigo asks his friends the second he sees Shinji. "He looks like some kind of weird hipster who's trying to relive his youth." Sighs Mizurio. "-Or a really deluded pervert who thinks he can sneak into the locker room." says Tatsuki, cracking her knuckles. "He doesn't look THAT old-" Keigo protests, and there is the briefest glimmer of hope for Shinji's Ego. "-Maybe he's some kind of super-senior who got held back a bunch because he's dumb as a brick." Shinji crumples to the ground, defeated by the direct hits to his insecurities.

Hinamori Momo: CA: 66 LA: 26 Momo has an extreme case of babyface but is secretly ripped under her uniform and well on her way to MILFdom from the waist down. The first time Hiyori sees her in shorts is a psychological and spiritual awakening.

Hiyori Sarugaki: CA: 126 LA: 20 Hiyori is the youngest Living Age and slowest-aging visored. She gets mad about her youthful appearance but also uses it to get children's discounts at theme parks.

---

Byakuya Kuchiki: CA: 181 LA: 26 Byakuya was married quite young, and Widowed soon after. He's still in his prime, and exceptionally hale for a Kuchiki- Despite the exceptional spiritual power of the clan, the centuries of inbreeding have given them severe health issues and very short lifespans for their power. Byakuya's grandfather Ginrei only lived to 486, and his father Sojun died at 200 from Hemophillia. Byakuya is still working up the nerve to tell Rukia that she will likely outlive him by a considerable margin, and the fact that Rukia hasn't got a nibling to spoil was His medical problem, not Hisana's.

---

Sajin Komamura: CA: 712 LA: 22 Komamura is somehow both Older AND Younger than everyone thinks he is, and that's not even getting into the "Wait, is that in human years or wolf years?" Debacle. When Yamamoto met Sajin for the first time in the 1400's he was extremely impressed with the giant warriors skill and courage, and before Sajin had a chance to greet him properly, asked the warrior to join his Academy. "I- I'm really old but I'm actually eight." came the voice of a small boy from behind the helmet and Yamamoto had to go stand with his face pressed into the wall for a minute.

Love Aikawa: CA:345 LA:33 Love Aikawa is one of the few shinigami who came into his spiritual powers so fast that he did NOT have a creer before becoming a Shinigami.

Tetsuzaemon Iba: CA: 154 LA: 30 Testsuzaemon was still a small boy when Komamura was appointed to the third seat of the first division, and got to know his mother Chikane Iba. Chikane worked extremely hard, but held Yamamoto in high regard, and Komamura in similar regard by extension. So now Tetsuzaemon is lieutenant to a man he still secretly thinks of as his "Favorite Babysitter".

---

Shunsui Kyoraku: CA: 856 LA: 48 Shunsui was forced to join the academy before his 100th birthday by his noble family because they had not actually planned on actually having a third son survive to adulthood and didn't really know what to do with him. Both Shunsui and Ukitake are old enough to remember when Unohana was still Yachiru, and Shut The Fuck Up about that fact.

Nanao Ise: CA: 141 LA: 28 When she first arrives in Seireitei, Yachiru Kusajishi is LA Eight, and quickly makes friends with Nanao, who is the other little girl close to her age with spiritual powers: "You're my baby sister now, but you'll be my Big sister sooner than later." Yachiru explained. "What do you mean?" Nanao blinked at her. "You're what, Living Age Seven, right?" Yachiru asked, squinting at her. "Yeah, but I'm really Forty-One!" Nanao insisted. It bothered her when people refused to take her seriously because of her age. "Right. I'm like Living Age Eight, so I'm your big sister. But I'm actually Four hundred and six." "…What?" Nanao gaped. "but, but that means you must be aging at…" She frowned, trying to do long division in her head. "-I age about one year for every fifty lived, yeah." "You- oh god." Nanao realized. "You outlive everyone you know." "Not everyone! Ken-chan and I are both aging at the same pace." Yachiru explained, wobbling a bit as she walked the log over the creek. "I guess I'm lucky- there aren't that many of us who age this slow so most of us don't have anybody who's really a 'life-long' companion, and I might be only one with a parent that's got a similar lifespan!" She grinned. "I age at about one for five, so in- ...in less than ten years I'll be older than you." Nanao hummed with concern. "Yep! But until then, you have to do everything your Big Sister says!" Yachiru grinned.

Lisa Yadomaru: CA: 427 LA: 36 Even though they're not REMOTELY related, Lisa bonded very strongly to Nanao when she was Shunsui's lieutenant. This causes some dispute with Yachiru when she returns to Soul Society because according to yachiru, Nanao is her Little Big Sister, owing to the difference in CA, to therefore Lisa is her Big-Big Little Sister, and Lisa thinks she doesn't have to support Yachiru's Candy Habit.

---

Kaname Tousen: Calendar age: 499 LA: 32 After the events of the Winter War, during which Kaname turned 500, Kaname disputes that he is only 350, because he spent the last 150 years under Aizen's Curse and "-You call that living?" Everyone (except Sajin) regularly forgets when Kaname's birthday is because he doesn't celebrate it- it was also his sister Kakiyo's birthday and he hasn't really felt like 'celebrating' since she was murdered, and Ichigo is the first person to REALLY understand his feelings on the matter, his own mother dyind so close to his birthday and how visiting her Memorial wasn't exactly a celebration, but it wasn't exactly mourning either.

Shuuhei Hisagi: CA:119 LA: 27 Renji entered the Academy the year Shuuhei was due to Graduate and still thinks of Shuuhei as his "Senpai". Shuuhei entered the academy the same year Rangiku was due to graduate, and still thinks of her as his "Senpai". Renji once called Rangiku his "Grand-Senpai" She and Shuuhei both beat him with shoes about it.

Kensei Muguruma: CA:469 LA: 29 Kensei supports Kaname's declaration that he's only 350 because finding out Kaname is older than him brings up all the insecurities Kensei developed from being the MUCH younger brother to five sisters, and he can't handle being "The Baby" again.

Mashiro Kuna: CA: 506 LA: 25 It took 47 rounds of Janken with Yachiru for Mashiro to finally be the first to get to three victories and declare herself The Biggest Sister. She also saw Kensei's meltdown about Kaname being older than him and is quietly holding onto the fact she's older than both of them until the moment it will cause her beloved captain the maximum amount of Psychological Damage.

---

Rangiku Matsumoto: CA: 357 LA: 29 Rangiku measures her Calendar Age from the date she appeared in Soul Society at age 14, which is an accepted practice, but sometimes people want to add their years in the living world as well. Rangiku supports Kaname's claim to be 350 because they let HER knock 14 years off her CA for an even more arbitrary reason, and also it means she doesn't have to get him a belated 500th Birthday gift for another 150 years.

Toshiro Hitsugaya: CA: 60 LA: 12 Hitsugaya is FAR AND AWAY the youngest Shinigami to achieve a seated officer's position by any age, and this was 100% done as a political maneuver by Yamamoto. Hitsugaya is no Slouch- he graduated salutatorian of his class and is the youngest person ever to achieve Bankai, but Yamamoto slapped him into the lieutenant's position 20 years ago (Hitsugaya graduated within weeks of Isshin Shiba's Disappearance) SPECIFICALLY to put Rangiku between him and any unscrupulous noble houses looking to forcibly adopt him/marry him to a spare heir/straight-up kidnap Hitsugaya to prop up their failing genetic lines. One of the clans tried it anyway and the resulting smoking crater where the clan compound used to be put the fear of Haineko into everyone and has so far discouraged further attempts.

---

Kenpachi Zaraki: CA: 1,477* LA: 42 Like Gin, Zaraki has several dates that could count as the start of his existence, but when asked how old he was at the first moon-viewing party he went to- "...How d'ya guys measure that?" Zaraki asked, studying Shunsui with his good eye in a way that made the hair on the back of his neck prickle. "Uh- well, for most people, it's when you were Born in Soul Society, but if you died and appeared here it's the day you first existed in Soul Society." he explained, feeling like he was missing an important dimension to the question. "Oh! In that case I'm- wait, shit. What day is it today?" "It's November 18th." Unohana smiled. "Ah, fuck! With all the chaos I forgot-!" Zaraki laughed. "Turned 1,377 last Monday." The assembled Shinigami all stared blanky, save for Unohana, who appeared to be trying to not laugh into her cup. "I'm sorry, I'm not sure I heard that correctly..?" Jushiro asked, entirely sure he had. "One Thousand Three Hundred Seventy-Seven." Zaraki repeated slowly, grin cracking across his face. "-Can't say I've done as good a job lookin' after myself as Sasakibe here though." "I- good heavens! The only person you're younger than is Yamamoto himself!" Aizen exclaimed, eyes wide behind his glasses. Zaraki frowned at that for a moment and then nodded. "...If you say so." Unohana made a small snuffling noise as she tried to not snort sake up her nose laughing. "How old are YOU, Mr. Glasses?" Yachiru asked. "Hm? Oh, I'm 332! And how old are y-" Aizen began to reply before he was interrupted by Yachiru jabbing her finger into the tip of his nose, cackling. "HAH! you're seventy- uh- seventy four years younger than me! You're a little baby man!" She clapped her hands with glee. "Unohana-sama? Are you alright?" Ukitake asked as the chief medic coughed suddenly. "I'm having a great time!" She wheezed, eyes watering from accidentally inhaling her drink.

Yachiru Kusajishi: CA: 506 LA: 10 Yachiru was Very Loved by her parents. Zaraki tells her this. When he found her, he found her in an otherwise abandoned house, with her parents, who had obviously died protecting her from the late-winter cold snap. She was still in her mother and father's arms when he came to investigate her cries. Her parents were wearing kimono that had the bottom third cut off, just above their knees, even though it was the middle of winter. She was wearing a double-layered baby Kimono made of the fabric they had cut off, to make sure she stayed warm. He took her into the nearest village, in hopes someone there could nurse her and tell him what her name was. She was lucky- there was a woman nursing her own daughter who agreed to take on her as well. But the Village elder hung his head in shame- he knew the couple the vagrant described- they lived far up the mountain, and only went by the name "Kusajishi", the name of the district, as was the style of many poor and illiterate farmers. They only came down from their farm once or twice a year to sell the special herbs they grew up there- the elder had seen the woman pregnant, but they had not come down to tell him the girl's name for the village records. So that day, the vagrant became Kenpachi Zaraki, and gave to her the name Yachiru as any parent should name their child, and the name Kusajishi, after the parents that loved her so. She only ever calls her adopted father Ken-chan, and is the only person who is allowed to call him that, because a parent should be called something special by their child. In deference to her parent's sacrifice, she does not call him "father". That was another man, who died for her. Zaraki does not lie to Yachiru, ever. Everything he told her about how they met is true. He has omitted one detail from the story, however. Her parents died from the cold snap because they had to be at least eighty, and not blessed with spiritual power like her. She had outlived her parents as an infant. And after speaking to the village elder about how, to his shame, he'd never managed to ask the little girl's name, even since he was a little boy, and failed to send anyone up there to check on the family, The vagrant with no name sat near the fire in the village hall, holding the little girl with no name. He thought about how terribly lonely it was, to not have a name. and how lucky he was that he had a mother who also had an extremely long lifespan that was able to live through raising him, and that he could still visit and speak to. and how unlucky this little girl was, that she did not. "How d'ya get a name?" the vagrant asked the village elder. "Well, here you just tell me what your name is, and I write it down in the village records." the elder said, watching him with curiosity. "...if I tell you a name, will you show me how to write it?" He asked, voice barely above a whisper. "Of course." The elder nodded. The vagrant was silent for a while. "Then her name is Yachiru Kusajishi." Said the vagrant. "...And yours?" The elder asked, picking up the record book and inkstone. "Mine?" the vagrant asked. "You're giving her a name because she hasn't got anyone else to do it, aren't you?" The elder asked, gaze steady. "If you name something, it's your responsibility forever, and you're going to have to be responsible for yourself if you're going to be responsible for her." The Vagrant considered this for a while. "My name-" he started and stopped, throat clicking like he was literally choking on the words. "-My name for her is Kenpachi Zaraki."

---

Mayuri Kurotsuichi: CA: 132 LA: 267 Mayuri is the only shinigami aging faster than the expected rate. This is because he escaped from Hell, and Hell would very much like to get his ass back there ASAP.

Nemuri Kurotsuichi: CA: 20 LA: 20 Nemu has been twenty for twenty years now, ever since she was pulled from the goo of her incubation tube by her father Mayuri, and will be 20 for the foreseeable future. The static lack of aging is something Mayuri hopes to fix in future drafts- Nemu is the seventh Nemuri, and the most successful one so far- She's the second Nemuri to actually make it out of her incubation tube, and the first to survive more than a year, but Nemuri Hachigo is already developing in the basement of the 12th in case something happens to her. The knowledge of her 'Little Sister' is something that brings Nemu comfort, like already knowing what you're going to be reincarnated as. "That's really fucked up." Says Uryuu Ishida in the rubble of Las Noches as she puts his intestines back inside his thorax where they belong. He's on a lot of drugs he'd like to know less about. "-It's also kind of cute. In a away. but really fucked up."

Kirio Hikifune: CA: 617 LA: 35 Kirio is one of a handful of people in on Unohana's double identity, but would NEVER betray her beloved Senpai's personal information! She served under Unohana in the fourth and developed her flesh-to-food technique with Unohana's help.

Tama Nikuya: CA: 1,477 LA: 26 Despite being the same age as Zaraki and Unohana and was aging at the same slow rate, the process that turned her into a Puca also caused her to go into bio-hell-fuckery that has effectively stopped her from aging at all. Or rather, she IS aging but every time she dies, she reappears as the LA age she was when she underwent The Flesh Change. She says the process is not infinite- she WILL eventually run out of spare lives, and if she manages to live long enough to die of old age in this body, she will NOT respawn at all. Also- it HURTS! She does die, which hurts, and comes back, which hurts EVEN MORE, and each time she comes back, she's confronted with the prospect of either outling all her friends or putting them through a similar hell to stay together. All in all, DO NOT ATTEMPT. I am speaking to you specifically, Kisuke. Akon Akon: CA: 119 LA: 27 Akon only has the one name but the archives don't like that so he uses it Twice. He was imprisoned without trial in the Maggot's nest for being part Yokai when he was a small child, and sprung to work in R&D By Mayuri shortly after Urahara's disappearence. He's friends with Yachiru and Nanao because there weren't hat many kids in the social circles of the Gotei-13's upper ranks, and all three of them shared a mutual interest in the Dinosaurs that were being discovered at the time. He's friends with Shuuhei because he was forced to take Remedial "if you work in the 12th instead of just R&D you need to actually know how to be a shinigami" classes the same year Shuuhei was accepted to the academy and they were dorm mates. Akon intermittendly draws weird one-panel cartoons for the Seireitei bulletin under a pen name, often about strange scientific jokes and on one notable occasion, bovine anthropological artifacts.

---

Jushiro Ukitake: CA: 857 LA: 44 Ukitake is genuinely unsure if, when or HOW he will die, given that he is host to a Divine Being. Once that particular cat is out of the bag, it gives him something to commiserate about with Tama. Already, Shunsui is starting to outpace his age- is he doomed to bury his friend? or will circumstance force Mimihagi to consume him entirely? Mimihagi is sympathetic- the Left Hand of God is also not sure what this fusion entails for him- it's possible that if Jushiro dies by any other means besides Mimihagi consuming him, that Mimihagi will die with him, and neither is sure what kind of impact that might have on the universe at large. Still, if it weren't for Mimihagi's intervention, Jushiro wouldn't have this time at all, and Mimihagi will never have had these experiences, so neither regrets the choice they made, regardless of how it ends.

Hachigen Ushoda: CA: 278 LA: 32. Hachigen is appearing under the 13th Division because the Kido Corps got absorbed into the 13th while he was away. Hachi consistently fools people into thinking he's way older than he actually is because he has to tailor-make all his clothes for his massive frame, so why NOT go all the way and make something Special for all this effort?

...this post is already three miles long, I'll do the Arrancar and Quincy next.

[taintedcigs]

dancing with our hands tied part I — s.h.

you can find part II here.

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ ONLY, minors dni!!, ANGST, making out, swearing, drinking, alcohol mention, smoking, drgs (joint mentions etc. idk why i always make them smoke im sawrrry), thats it i think

summary: in which steve is in love with his best friend's ex. (wc: 5.5k+)

a/n: so ! first of all, the 'Steve' or 'Steve & You' next to the dates indicate POVs, idk why i decided to do that i think wanted to be artistic or somethinngg??? also did not proof-read this well so pls ignore the mistakes and hope u guys enjoy it (also make sure to check out the 2nd a/n at the end pls!)

Saturday, June 11, 1988 | Steve.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

He could feel it, he could feel each breath quickening, as if it was echoing the anticipation and excitement coursing through his veins, pushing away any traces of anxiety and nervousness.

Chest feeling tight with each step you took closer to him, your presence engulfing him with warmth, as he fought hard not to let that stupid grin spread across his face when you giggled at his stupid jokes, your head throwing back simply, and Steve swears if you got any closer to him you could actually hear the rapid pace of his heart.

His mind blocked out the entire room filled with booming music, entire focus shifted toward you.

He couldn’t help it, his eyes were stuck on you as a mellow smile plastered on his lips, as if he was silently trying to tell you how he felt about you, as if he was hoping you would understand his meaningful gaze.

“Steve,” You whined, lips puffing as you gave him a slight huff, “You’re not even listening!” You chided playfully before Steve shook his head quickly puffing.

“I was totally listening,” He replied, causing you to roll your eyes, “Really? Then what was I talking about, doofus?” You crossed your arms against your chest.

“Something about never listening to Def Leppard again when you’re in the car,” He replied cockily, your chest puffing down as you realized he actually was listening, eyeing him suspiciously.

“You’re annoying,” You huffed, “I’m always right, honey,” Steve said proudly, the nickname slipping past his lips so easily.

“You want another one?” You asked, attempting to change the conversation, Steve failing to notice the heat growing on your cheeks when he called you ‘honey’, fingers pointing toward his almost empty red cup, his attention diverted slowly, gaze still stuck on you.

“Uhhh… yeah,” He muttered, the small smile on his lips hanging around before his clammy hands reached for your cup, “I’ll get us both a refill,” He winked, as you gave him a small smile, hands reaching out to give him your empty cup.

Steve weaved through the drunken bodies, holding his cup in the air as he muttered apologies excusing himself. The music thumping was drowning out his inner thoughts, still picturing how your head fell back when you giggled at him.

God, he was stupid.

So stupid and absolutely pathetic.

The way he stuttered around you, his heart pounding out of his chest, hands clammy, barely able to get his words out was absolutely fucking pathetic.

It was supposed to be simple, you and him.

Friends, just friends.

You had entered Steve’s life when he needed it the most. He was a mess, just gotten out of another unsuccessful relationship, and his parents were always on his ass for not being successful or smart enough, his world was entirely crumbling around him, and you rolled around in his life, so suddenly, and so perfectly.

You with your soft giggles and your perfect smile, voice almost reminiscent of an angel, and so fucking sure of yourself that Steve couldn’t help but want to be around you, almost as if he was hooked.

You were the new girl in Hawkins High during his senior year, the new shiny toy that everyone wanted to befriend. But you chose him.

At that time, that meant everything to Steve, being chosen, finally being the person someone first went for, you probably never realized it, and you probably never realized the full impact you had on him.

And that’s how everything began, you had befriended him and his group of friends, and everything was supposed to be simple, so simple.

Until Steve decided to introduce you to Eddie Munson, his best friend.

Munson made you laugh at his stupid jokes, he shared the same music taste as you, he played the same nerdy game you loved, and he watched the same type of horror movies you did—the ones that would probably make Steve sleep with lights on if he actually watched them without peering through his fingers. 

Eddie was supposed to be Steve’s best friend, and you were supposed to be Steve’s new friend, Eddie wasn’t supposed to be close to you, and he wasn’t supposed to –eventually– date you. It was supposed to be Steve. You were supposed to be with Steve.

It drove him crazy and for the longest time, he couldn’t accept it. Steve Harrington couldn’t comprehend or bear the fact that he was jealous of his best friend, Eddie Munson.

It was torture for him, watching you slip more and more away from him, and right into his best friend’s arms. Steve knew it was wrong, Steve knew he shouldn’t feel the way he did and he knew he should’ve been happy for his best friend, but he couldn’t help it, he couldn’t help but be bitter that Eddie acted so quickly, almost as if he was stealing you before Steve even had a chance to sort his life out, let alone his feelings toward you.

And while the relationship didn’t last that long, its consequences did, Steve had been in love with feelings for you since senior year –almost two years, but now that you were his best friend’s ex, he never thought about acting on his feelings, not even once.

Not when you came to Steve for comfort one year ago when the two of you broke up, not when Robin tried to tell him countless times that Eddie wouldn’t mind it, Steve could never do it.

He knew that once you became Eddie’s ex, he lost all his chances with you, so, he decided to keep those feelings for you contained, pushing them down until they eventually disappeared.

He loved you in secret.

And he had been good at it, at least until the words that came out of your mouth last Friday.

Maybe you didn’t mean it, maybe you were so fucking drunk out of your mind that the words had slipped past your lips without any care, without any meaning.

Robin told him the opposite, she tried telling him the cliché of how drunk words are sober thoughts, but Steve dismissed it, he couldn’t let it get to his head, couldn’t let himself have any hope about you, ever.

“Jesus!”

“Been looking for you everywhere, dingus!” Robin’s voice echoed in his head as he finally made his way to the drink stand, slamming down the cups in his hand before he greeted Robin.

“Where is she?” Robin said as she noticed your absence next to Steve, eyebrows wiggling with mischief causing Steve to roll his eyes.

“By the beer pong table,” He said dismissively, causing Robin to raise her eyebrows, “Oh-kay,” She enunciated.

“Did something happen?” She asked, her sarcastic tone replaced by seriousness now that she saw how Steve’s face fell at the mention of your name.

“No,” He answered, hands clammy as they reached for the punch bowl, but his answer was quick, so quick that Robin could see right through him.

“C’mon Steve,” Robin nudged slightly, almost spilling the cup Steve was filling, “Shit, sorry!” She chuckled lightly.

“What was I saying?” Steve gave her a look.

“Oh, duh!” She giggled again, clearly drunk. “Right, you can trust me,” Robin’s face became serious again and Steve couldn’t help but chuckle at her.

“It’s nothing new,” He sighed, filling the two cups on the counter with booze again before turning to Robin. “It’s—just—I don’t know how to act like last Friday didn’t happen,” He sighed, causing Robin to blink quickly.

“You still haven’t talked to her about it?” Her voice raised as Steve shushed her, as if anyone would be able to hear the two of them, Steve shook his head.

Friday, June 3, 1988 | Steve & You

The summer break had been in its full swing, you and Steve had returned to Hawkins for the remainder of the break, along with the rest of the gang who were finished with their finals, and every day had turned into some sort of drinking or smoking fest, and now there you guys were, high out of your mind in Nancy’s basement. The rest of the gang had scurried to get some more booze, leaving you and Steve alone.

“Which one would you prefer?” You asked, asking stupid ‘Would You Rather’ questions to Steve, barely moving from your position on the couch as you turned your gaze toward him, your legs were tangled with his, head thrown back in the headrest of the couch, and his calloused fingers were slightly tapping on your thigh, your mind hazy as you snatched the beer bottle from his hands.

“Hey!” Steve exclaimed, “I was drinking that,” He rolled his eyes playfully, trying to get the bottle back before you guarded it, “It is mine now, Steven,” You mocked with a serious voice, squinting your eyes.

“I, so regret telling you my full name,” He chided softly causing you to scoff, “Yeah because it was so fucking hard to guess ‘Steve’ was short for ‘Steven’, huh?” You replied sarcastically, a mischievous grin playing on your lips as you tried to stifle your laughter.

Steve cursed you under his breath jokingly, causing you to gasp dramatically, he tssked, “Stop being a brat.”

“Rude,” You muttered before taking another swig at the beer in your hand, causing him to roll his eyes as he reached for the bottle, “Think you had enough, sweetheart,” His tone was filled with concern. You could sense it, you knew he was trying to look out for you.

“You controllin’ what I drink now, Harrington?” You slurred a bit, mind hazy from all the blunts you shared, and the beers you were sipping on.

“When did being concerned for your friend start being labeled as ‘control’?” He raised a brow, causing you to shrug, “You can have it, King Steve,” You mocked as you handed the beer in your hand, “I’m pretty hammered anyway,” You giggled as Steve placed the bottle on the counter next to him.

You were back to the comfortable silence again as you asked Steve weird questions again until Steve decided to ask the inevitable question, “You okay?” worry creased his brow, hands still gently rubbing on your thigh, your stomach filling with excitement at his tender touch, “Why wouldn’t I be?” You said confidently.

“Dunno…” Steve muttered, but he knew exactly why he was asking it, “Coming back to Hawkins again for the first time after everything with… y’know,” He murmured again, and if you weren’t paying any attention to him, you would’ve barely made out what he was saying.

You knew he was talking about Eddie because it would be the first time you would see him since the break-up, and while the thought did make your stomach churn, you had gotten over Eddie.

Many, many months ago.

Your lives were so different, so fucking different.

You wanted the simple things, finishing college, having a normal job, away from all the drama and chaos you endured in Hawkins, just… simple.

And Eddie wanted so much more.

He wasn’t going to settle, and who were you to hold him back?

He was nice and fun, but the moment you left for college the relationship was over, you just didn’t realize it at the time. Arguments getting more frequent and the distance between each other growing more and more every day.

“C’mon Steve… It’s been a year,” You tried to reassure him as your fingers traced his hand on your thigh, giving it a comfortable squeeze. A soft smile grazed his lips at your action, his mind still filled with the horrible voice in the back of his head that told him that you were still hung up on Eddie.

“Just worried is all,” The way he looked at you was enough to get your heart rate pacing, stomach filled with flutters when he traced every curve of your face.

Even though you were over Eddie, it still didn’t give him any peace of mind, knowing he could never be with you. But he kept his facade up, pushing his feelings down, and it was all going fine, until the moment he dropped you off at home.

After your conversation, the gang had arrived with more booze and weed than you could ever imagine, and by the time Steve dropped you home, you were absolutely shitfaced.

You wobbled, loud chuckles escaping past your lips as Steve led you to the bedroom, he had a tight hold on your body, trying to keep you steady. You giggled as you could barely hold your body up, almost tripping with the way you tried to walk over to the bed, causing Steve to chuckle. “Easy, honey,” He gently warned as his grip on your waist tightened, guiding you toward the bed.

You hummed contently when he finally managed to help you get into the bed,  tucking you in with his tender hands, a soft smile plastered on your lips, “Thanks for takin’ care of me, Stevie,” Your words stuck to each other, and Steve couldn’t help but have a childish grin plastered on his face when you said his name so sweetly.

“Course,” He murmured, “Always, honey,” His voice was soothing, making you hum.

“You really are amazing, Stevie,” A playful glint playing in your tone, “So, I’ve been told, sweetheart,” He purred, hands gentle as they brushed a strand of hair away from your face, causing you to giggle again.

“Sleep tight, okay?” He added as he pressed a warm kiss on your cheek, hands pressing into your mattress before he stood tall and made his way to the door.

“Steve?” Your gentle tone called out to him, and it made him stop dead in his tracks, the tenderness squeezing his heart, he turned around to meet your face. “Yeah?” His voice almost cracked, you were so fucking perfect and it was killing him.

The silence in the room was dizzying both you and him, tension hanging in the air with the way your gaze stuck on him.

“I wish it was you,” Your last words had been slurred, but this one was clearer than ever, Steve’s ears perked up as his eyes widened quickly, “W—what?” He stuttered, your words freezing him in his place.

“At The Hideout, that day—I—I wish it was you,” You cleared your throat, words filled with regret as they escaped your lips, you were drunk out of your mind and were surely not going to remember them tomorrow, and Steve’s heart was an open wound at this point.

You surely didn’t mean that you wished it was Steve instead of Eddie, did you?

“Instead of him,” You hiccuped, “I wish it was you,” You affirmed his thoughts, and Steve felt as if his heart had shattered into a million pieces. Your drunken words remained tight in the air, the weight of them sitting tight on Steve’s chest, not being able to escape the ache in his heart.

And with six words, you had managed to break Steve Harrington.

He knew exactly what you meant, The Hideout was the day you and Eddie had started dating, the one day when you needed Steve the most, and he wasn’t there.

Steve didn’t get any sleep that night, tossing and turning at the possibilities, laying awake as the thoughts of you filled his mind, replaying that same conversation over and over again until he went crazy.

He was hoping the two of you could talk about it, or at least you’d say something, but once he saw you the next morning as you apologized to him for how drunk you were, he knew he was fucked.

You had told him the most life-altering words he ever heard and didn’t even remember it, and that is why Steve couldn’t help but be so fucking awkward around you the past few days, and he knew you could sense it, but he had no idea what to do.

Saturday, June 11, 1988 | You.

After eight minutes of Steve’s absence, you huffed as you got up from your seat, pushing through sweaty bodies as you muttered apologies toward the crowd, once you spotted that chestnut layered fluff that Steve called hair, a grin plastered on your face, you called out for him but he was too focused on his conversation with Robin.

You groaned as you tried to make your way over them, but once again unable to when you got blocked, your arm colliding against a body covered in a leather jacket, “Excuse m—” Your stutter turned into a gasp when you lifted your head up, and those honey-glazed brown eyes peered at you, filled with shock and warmth, as if they were staring at you for the first time again.

Eddie.

You couldn’t help the dumbstruck look on your face, mouth agape as you struggled to find the words to speak to him, “H—hey,” He spoke up before you could, and you could tell he was as nervous as you.

“Hi!” You beamed, a fake smile plastered on your face and you wondered if he could tell how fucking awkward this was for you.

“This is awkward, huh?” He chuckled almost as if he was reading your mind, to ease his own worries, not knowing he was also easing yours.

“Yeah, pretty fucking awkward,” You added, a genuine chuckle escaping your lips.

“So, What have you been up to—”  

“How are y—” Both of your questions tangled together as you chuckled in sync. When did everything get so fucking tangled up together that you could barely say hello to him anymore?

Eddie was not a good fit for you as a boyfriend, you knew that.

But he had always been a good friend, and you had missed that.

“You go first!” You beamed, curious to know what he had been up to.

Saturday, June 11, 1988 | Steve

“Well, why don’t you go tell her now?” Robin’s voice distracted Steve’s gaze upon the half-empty red cup he was gripping now, “Huh?” He mindlessly drifted his attention toward Robin.

“She’s there—” Robin pointed toward the crowd, Steve squinted his eyes, while he didn’t have that much of a terrible vision, he couldn’t see that far away without his glasses, he huffed, “Stop fuckin’ with me Buckley,”

“Jesus, you really are a dingus!” Robin face-palmed, dragging Steve toward her view so that he could see better.

“See, she’s right there, right next to—Oh, uh…” Robin stopped mid-sentence and pushed Steve away, “Ow!” He rubbed his chest comfortingly, “What?” He questioned curiously trying to see through the crowd.

“Nothing!” Robin exclaimed nervously trying to push him away, raising Steve’s suspicions more, he huffed as he ignored Robin and attempted to get closer, pushing a few of the bodies in the way, he scoffed when you were still nowhere to be seen, Robin was a lying piece of—

Oh!

There you were.

His face eased, and with every step Steve took he could see you more and more clearly, there you were, giggling and chatting to someone… some douchebag with curly—

Oh.

The world seemed to slow down the more he scanned the two of you, a drink in Eddie’s hand while he had a grin on his face, the way you tucked your hair behind your ear while you giggled at him.

He knew this all too well.

Steve felt like he could throw up, he barely had anything to drink, yet his world was spinning endlessly, a wave of devastation along with anger washed over his senses, and he couldn’t help to clench his fists, attempting to quell the pang of jealousy tearing through his veins.

He didn’t know which was louder, the thumping of the music or his racing heartbeat. And he was starting to feel stupid.

So fucking stupid.

Like an outsider looking in.

Like it was 1986 all over again. The first time he lost you.

He could feel his throat tighten up, the words he had rehearsed in his mind since Friday not daring to escape his lips. He couldn’t tear his gaze away, not when your hands slapped against Eddie’s shoulder while you were giggling, he knew he was torturing himself but he couldn’t look away.

Saturday, June 11, 1988 | You & Steve.

“I’m really glad you’re doing okay, honey.” You could tell he meant it, plump lips framing the words coming out of his mouth with tenderness.

“Me too, Eds, t’was nice catching up with you,” You murmured, “I know things didn’t work out between us…” He gestured toward you, “But I’m glad we could maintain… whatever this is,” You gave him an awkward chuckle, your hand resting on his shoulder as you gave it a gentle squeeze.

You could tell he appreciated it, the grin on his face showing the dimple on his left cheek, “Oh!” He said catching your attention, “You seen Harrington?”

You nodded, “Yeah! He’s getting us drinks, right over th—” Your eyes spotted Robin but Steve was nowhere to be seen now, your brows furrowed, “Huh… I’ll just ask Robin…” You muttered, “But I’ll see you around, yeah?” You added, voice beaming as Eddie gave you a slight nod, curtsying as he opened the way for you, “Thank you,” You giggled, slipping past him as you made your way over to Robin.

“Buckley!” You exclaimed, slamming your hands on the counter as you were happy to see her, “Hi!” Her voice sounded off, that nervous tingle you seemed to know too well.

“Where has Steve disappeared off to?” You attempted to joke, but Robin’s nervous giggle as she pointed toward the backyard was setting you off.

“But I really don’t think he’s in the mood to talk, y’know, I think the dingus just had a little bit too much to—”

“I just want to talk to him,” You interrupted Robin’s ramble as she gave you a slight nod.

What the fuck was going on? The whole night had been blurry enough with the amount of booze and weed in your system and running into your ex, now Robin had been acting weird and Steve had disappeared into the backyard, next to the pool while he had a… joint in his hand?

“Woah,”  

“When did Harrington become cool, huh?” You tried to joke, taking a seat next to him as you pointed toward the joint in his hand, but Steve barely gave you any of his attention.

It felt weird, so fucking weird.

He was never like this with you, and your mind was reveling now, did you do something wrong that you didn’t know about?

“Care to share?” You asked, voice mellow as you wanted to defuse the tension, but Steve didn’t share the same interest as you, he barely looked in your direction as he took another drag from the joint, before he passed it to you.

Your mouth dried up, and you didn’t know what to say to him, stomach churning with the idea that Steve hated you now, and you didn’t know if your heart could ever handle that.

You smiled at him when you took it off his hands, a smile he didn’t return, your heart dropping to your stomach in an instant, hands shaky as they grabbed the joint from his, you studied his expressions nervously.

“So, did you ever end up getting us those drinks,” You murmured, it was an attempt at a joke, “Because last time I saw you, you said—” Before you could finish the sentence, Steve chugged the drink in his cup, handing it toward you.

“Oh, that’s not what I—” You nervously took it from his hands, “T—thank you,”

Then an uncomfortable silence overtook the two of you, the tension growing thicker when you passed him the joint with no word leaving past both your lips.

You couldn’t help but sigh when the silence continued as he gave you the cup again, you set it down as you turned to face him, “Are you okay?” You asked, tone mixed with a tinge of hurt and annoyance.

Steve wasn’t quick to reply, “Yeah.”

But you weren’t going to take that for an answer, “Bullshit,” You didn’t stutter.

“Did something happen? Or did I do something I wasn’t aware of? If so, you should just come up and tell me and not do this bullshit, childish—” Your angry rambling was cut off by Steve’s chuckle, your brows tilted together in annoyance.

“Is this funny to you?” You asked, Steve, for the first time since you had been sitting next to each other, tilted his face toward your direction, and you could fully see it now, his face was etched with anger and hurt.

“Yeah, actually,” He answered, “You have no clue about anything, do you?” His tone was cold and sarcastic.

“Excuse me?” You exclaimed, confusion written all over your face, if this was Steve’s idea of a joke, it was fucking horrible.

He could tell he was crossing the line, if he didn’t back up now, he was going to lose you, as a friend, as everything, and potentially he was going to lose Eddie, too.

 But he couldn’t stop the words from rolling off his tongue when his mind was filled with so many thoughts, “You have no fuckin’ clue about anything,” He wasn’t confident in his words, slurring as his face got closer to yours, inches away.

If he wasn’t so angry at you for whatever reason, you could take his closeness the wrong way, and that excited you, your breath hitching as your gaze focused away from his deep mahogany eyes toward his plump lips.

Steve could sense it, he could sense the shift, tension growing thicker with each of his words, and the way your gaze lingered on his lips… He was getting his hopes up again, his anger was being washed away with guilt now, if he crossed to this territory, he knew he wouldn’t—couldn’t— go back.

If he even showed you one fucking side of the feelings he had been bottling up, there was no going back for him, and for his relationship with both you and Eddie.

“Enlighten me, then,” Your annoyance from before was fading away, gaze stuck on his lips as if that was all you could think about, your thigh brushing past his as you felt him let out a slight gasp.

“Don’t,” His tone was firm, demeanor changing entirely when he looked into your gentle eyes, he couldn’t stop himself, he needed to be away from you.

“I—I can’t!” He panicked, confusing you even further when he stood up, your shoulders dropped as you got up with him.

“You can’t what?” You exclaimed, chest-puffing with anger now,  Steve was dizzying you and you couldn’t handle it.

“What the fuck happened? What did I fucking do?” You reached out, grabbing him by the arm to make him face you.

“I can’t fucking do this, right now, Y/N,” He rubbed his hands in his face as if to calm himself.

“Do what?!?” You almost yelled, frustration getting the best of you.

“I can’t handle you with him again!”

And there it was.

Steve’s bottle of feeling was opening up, and this was just the surface.

“I can’t fuckin’ handle seeing you giggle with him,”

“Jesus Christ, I can’t even—I can’t fuckin’ bear to see him stand next to you!” His voice cracked, almost, hints of desperation ever so apparent when he looked at you with such hurt.

“Can’t even handle the way his name rolls off your lips…” He shook his head.

Your mind raced, trying to process the moment, the weight of his words slow to hit you as they boggled your mind, time seemed to stand still as shock washed over your face, “Are—are you implying…” You could barely get the words out, your tone hardly audible.

“Please,” He almost begged, standing so close to you that you could feel his breath fanning against your face, “Don’t.”

“Don’t make me fuckin’ say it,” The more he gazed into your hope-filled eyes, the more he could feel his walls crumbling, you were leaving him so vulnerable and exposed that Steve’s breathing became shallow, desperate to hear your next words.

Your heart was pounding against your ribcage, the thoughts, and the ideas swirling around your head were too fast for you to process, the realization of everything sinking in. “Please,” His voice was trembling with emotion, and you didn’t even know what he was pleading for, you were so very desperate to close the gap between the two of you.

And Steve didn’t care anymore, his feelings were all over the place and you were so close to him, almost at the grasp of his hands, that he was sure he would lose his mind this time if he lost you, once again. 

He was trying to determine your facial expressions, mind blank with everything that had unraveled today. You didn’t even need to say anything, the surrounding sounds of the party boomed in your ear, anticipation persisting the space between the two of you.

The soft illuminating light of the moon reflected Steve’s gaze, and god, was he pretty. Without a word, you reached out to him, slow and tender, your hands were quick to cup his cheeks as if to tell him it was okay to do this, as if to tell him you wanted this, more than anything.

Your hold withdrew him from wandering off to the storm that was brewing in his mind, he couldn’t help but lean in, melting into you completely, your lips brushing past his in a hesitant kiss.

And just like that the space around you evaporated, dissipating. And your mouth was soft, so fucking soft.

Steve Harrington has kissed people before—scratch that, Steve Harrington has kissed many people before.

But this was different.

You were different.

Gentle but demanding, soft but rough, and Steve finally understood why falling in love was supposed to feel like losing your mind because he was sure he was fucked in the head by the way he melted into you, almost as if his entire body dissolved into you, utterly and completely.

Your heart was about to explode inside your ribcage, you had never ever experienced anything like this before and you could tell Steve felt the same, feeling your knees growing weaker and weaker as his body pressed against yours.

But just when everything felt so magical, just when you were about to expose yourself fully to him, Steve pulled away.

“Fuckfuckfuck fuck!” He cursed, feeling so fucking stupid, he wanted to rip his hair off for pulling away from the kiss, but he couldn’t—he shouldn’t.  You looked like a deer in headlight with the way you gazed up at him, eyes widened with an innocent look, not knowing the storm of thoughts raging through Steve’s head.

“I—Fuck—I shouldn’t,” He rambled, “I—Can’t,”

“Why?” You implored, desperately.

“I can’t fuckin’ do this,” He shook his head.

“But at the same time, if I don’t tell you everything, I know I’m gonna regret it for the rest of my life…” The more he spoke the more questions appeared in your head.

“It was me,” His voice trembled, and you tilted your head, his words fiddling with your mind further.

The tension lingering in the air as Steve stood silent was going to be the death of you, and you wanted to shake him by the shoulders, tell him to say something, to do something, kiss you again, anything.

“At the Hideout,” He stopped for a second, to gather his thoughts, to gather what he was going to say, and each second that went by his silence felt like hours. 

“It was me.” His words lingered, sticking to your mind as the crashing wave of realization came to you.

another a/n hello: OKAY SO THIS MAYBE A BIT CONFUSING therefore!!! i would love to do a pt.2 for this (esp bc i want to write the hideout incident on that pt.2 so u know the drill, lmk if you want a pt.2 or lmk any of ur thoughts and comments ily &lt;;3)

[thalialunacy]

[for the @calaisreno May Prompthagoreum Theorum. Cheers to ya'll for still following along despite it being, you know, June.]

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22) 23: apology (24) (25) (26) (27) (28) (29) (30) (31)

At first, partially because it's 6am, neither of them recognise what Rosie is actually saying. But it's clearly directed at Sherlock, who looks at John from the table with an eyebrow raised.

John shrugs. 'What was that, sweetheart?'

She helpfully points at Sherlock. 'Say sorry!'

'Oh ba--balderdash,' John says. 'There was an episode of that Australian programme about apologising, I didn't think--'

'Be sorry, Sherlock!'

Sherlock looks merely amused. 'What for, Miss Rosamund?'

She moves her pointer finger to John, but her accusatory gaze stays on Sherlock. 'You ate banana.'

'I… ate your father's banana without asking?'

She nods decisively. 'Say sorry.'

'I'm very sorry, John. I shall ask next time before doing anything nefarious with your banana.'

How they manage to keep straight faces, John has no idea, but they deserve an Olympic sodding medal in parenting for it.

'She's not even old enough to really get the concept of apologising,' he says as it occurs to him. 'I can't--'

'Nonsense, she's brilliant. Aren't you?' This last is to Rosie, obviously, as he clears away her cereal bowl.

John rolls his eyes. 'Oh, so now you're in favour of emotional intelligence.'

'When it applies to my--' He smothers a wince, John is certain of it, but rallies immediately. '--my young flatmate, here, absolutely.'

He stands before John can say anything else. 'Time to be off, yes?'

'Sherlock,' he starts a few minutes later, but they're halfway out the door and he knows he's being cowardly.

Sure enough, Sherlock waves it off. 'You're for pickup today, correct?' John nods. 'Good. I've that case, have to go make several witnesses cry.'

John hides a grin, in case his newly-pious daughter is paying attention. 'Try not to get arrested, yeah?'

'I make no promises,' Sherlock calls back as he heads off down the pavement.

---

'John,' Sherlock says that night, once he's changed clothes and washed the distinct aroma of back alley rubbish off himself while John put Rosie to bed. 'You could take a turn from your daughter about the apologising. Be a good example.' His voice is light, but careful. Only a little bit mocking.

John, who is standing in the kitchen making coffee and around whom Sherlock has just reached to avail himself of the biscuits, is certain he didn't hear correctly. 'I beg your pardon.'

'No, you don't.'

John stares at him, mouth a little open. 'This? Coming from you?'

'Who knows you better?'

'No, I mean-- You never apologise.'

'Implying you yourself are a model for showing regret?'

John can practically hear the 'zing' of the direct hit, and it irks him. 'Fine, I apologise for nothing!' He stops. 'No, that's not true, I apologise for some things. A few things. Several things. I apologise for about half of the things!'

'That doesn't even make sense, you realise.'

'Shut up.' He pulls Sherlock to him. 'Shut up, you absolute wanker.' He drags their mouths together for a surprisingly filthy kiss considering how tired they both ought to be.

John has a suspicion, though, and he breaks the kiss. 'What's this really about?'

'Don't know what you mean,' Sherlock says against the skin of John's jaw.

'Sherlock…' He swallows, considers pulling back but isn't sure he'd be able to get through this if eye contact is involved. 'You know she's yours, right?'

Sherlock stills, his cheek brushing John's, and John feels him close his eyes. 'John, you mustn't say things that aren't true.'

'Oh for--' John does pull back, then, pulling on the back of Sherlock's neck and keeping him in check so he can't escape. He waits until Sherlock's focused on his face, on his nose today. 'Here's the thing: You're right. Beyond, you know, the big-- Beyond what we've worked out in therapy, I'm shit at apologising. I'll work on it for Rosie, and for you. Starting with--' He takes a deep breath. 'I'm really bloody sorry I ever gave you the impression I didn't want you as Rosie's father.' He sees and feels Sherlock's sharp inhale. 'I just thought you knew that you already are.' 

'John.' The air leaves Sherlock's body in a stream, warm and damp on John's skin. 'You're serious?' he asks, doubt small but lingering in his voice. 

John clears his throat, breaking their gaze to look down at Sherlock's collar. 'I asked-- Well, the papers have been drawn up, and I owe your brother now which will only come back to bite us in the arse, but--' 

Sherlock's mouth captures his in a desperate kiss, and John finds himself held so tightly he actually feels his heels parting from the lino.

'Sherlock,' John manages when they break briefly for air.

'Sorry, right,' Sherlock says, very near sheepishly, and loosens his grip.

'Don't be sorry, just, you know.' He tilts his head to indicate the hallway. 'Come to bed with me?'

Sherlock's eyes darken with a combination of lust and merriment. 'Where I can do nefarious things to your banana?'

John groans, then turns away and starts down the hall. 'Oh God, dad jokes now? I have so many regrets.'

'No, you don't.'

John smirks and holds the bedroom door open. 'No, I really, really don't.'

[ <3 ]