#there were so many connections between the book and this song I couldn’t fit them all into one 10 image post 🫶

[jesper-ugly-suit-apologist]

happy place x treacherous

a totally uncomprehensive look at how happy place is treacherous by taylor swift coded

[itsallyscorner]

just like magic with marvel cast, the vibe is----- a perfect song for a lil b*tch with a good heart and a sarcastic mouth

just like magic is the song we ALL need for 2020😌 Start manifesting ya’ll🖤 Also thank you sm for the request I am so so sorry this took so freakin’ long😭 Love u, happy reading🖤🖤 Tried to add my own lil twist to your request:)

(A lil different from the request, but I tried to make the reader have a bit sas.)

💌.

just like magic

Growing up within the Marvel Cinematic Universe was probably one of things you were most grateful for. When you first started out you weren’t that social. You were new to the business, you didn’t know anybody and you were intimidated by every single actor you crossed paths with.

At first you didn’t feel like you fit in. You felt as if you were a burden to everyone else. You barely talked to anyone which made the others approach you out of force by the Russos. Everyone around you was talented while you were just some newcomer who had jack shit as experience. The first few years you were insecure of yourself mentally and physically. You weren’t as pretty or fit as the other women in the MCU nor did your skills live up to theirs. Which led to some unhealthy habits. Plus there were haters and movie critics who would say horrible things about you and your acting.

You had a rocky start unlike Tom Holland and even Lexi Rabe. Until one day when you realized that you had to change how you were thinking. It took you a while but all that negative thinking you were doing was only bringing you negative energy. So when you had a break from filming movies, your number one goal was to improve yourself.

Wake up in my bed, I just wanna have a good day (Mmm, ah)

Think it in my head, then it happens how it should, ayy

Twelve o'clock, I got a team meeting, then a meditation at like 1:30

Then I ride to the studio listening to some shit I wrote (Oh)

You woke up with smile on your face in a sense of calmness. The sun shined bright hues into your room as you got up from your bed. Today was the first day back on set. You guys were finally filming Civil War and you were honestly so excited. As you did your morning routine, you went over how the day would go in your head. You’re genuinely excited to see the entire cast. It has been almost half a year since you’ve seen everyone and you couldn’t wait to be back.

You took one last look at yourself in the mirror. Compared to the previous year, you looked and felt healthy. Your eyes shined and you looked well relaxed. You know like one of those face cleanser commercials? That’s how you felt. You felt like a breath of fresh air.

The ride to the studio took a good 30 minutes but it felt like seconds. You entered the set with a new sense of confidence and pride. The energy was practically radiating off you.

“(Y/n)?” You hear someone call from behind you. You turn around and see Scarlett looking at you.

“Hey!” You greet her as you approach her. You pulled her into a hug, startling her.

“Oh! Hello to you too, honey.” She laughed as she wrapped her arms around you. “How are you?”

“I’m doing great! Life’s been good.” You answer as a toothy grin graces itself on your face. Scarlett’s eyes are filled with shocked. From the previous times she’s talked to you she’s never seen you so loud or open. You were always shy and closed off from everyone on set.

Good karma, my aesthetic (Aesthetic)

Keep my conscience clear, that's why I'm so magnetic

Manifest it (Yeah), I finessed it (I finessed it)

Take my pen and write some love letters to Heaven

Eventually everyone on set caught on to your new attitude. Though they tried to be discreet about their reactions and shocked expressions, you could still see how they were caught off guard by your sudden change of nature.

Anthony watched as you conversed with Elizabeth and Scarlett on the couch in Robert’s “village” . You were probably the most smiliest person in the room beating Evans, who was eating his lunch.

“She’s like different. But in a good way. It’s like she’s bloomed.” Anthony thought out loud to the men beside him. Chris (E) and Sebastian look in your direction.

“Bloomed?” Chris snorted as he swallowed his food.

“Yeah, like she’s growing into a woman.” Anthony hummed proudly as he went back to his own lunch. Sebastian smiled at you, “I think she’s gained some confidence in herself and finally realized how good of a person she is.”

“If she’s finally realized that, I’m glad she did. She’s like a ball of sunshine, it’s adorable.” Chris smiled proudly at you as your hands move around animatedly while explaining some story to the two women in front of you.

“Y’all think it’s a boy?” Anthony wondered. Sebastian rolled his eyes at his friend. Before he can even respond Anthony is calling you over. You approach the men with a smile and take a seat beside Sebastian.

“What’s up?” You greet them. Chris nods at you as he chews on his sandwich. Sebastian greeting you with a quiet “hey”.

“So who’s the lucky man?” Anthony asks teasingly. Your brows knit together head tilting to the side.

“Man?”

“Yes man, or boy, whatever. Who’s got you feelin’ yourself, (y/n).” Anthony wiggles his brows as he shimmies closer to you. Sebastian, who’s in between you two, cringes at the man to his left.

You didn’t take any offense to the question, knowing that everyone was curious as to why you were so unlike yourself.

You chuckled before smirking at the older man, “Anthony, honey. I don’t need a man to be feelin’ myself. I did this on my own.”

Chris and Sebastian’s mouth drop at your answer. Chris laughed as he pointed out Anthony’s face. Sebastian slung an arm around your shoulder bringing you into a side hug as he laughed with Chris.

“To be fair” Chris began to say but started to laugh, “To be fair, you deserved that.” Anthony’s face went flushed as he nodded to himself. You suddenly felt bad that you put him on the spot.

“Alright, stop laughing at him.” You playfully glare at Chris and Seb. You poke Anthony’s arm, “To answer your question, I’ve just been working on myself. Thinking more positively, I even tried manifestation.”

“You know what, that’s good. You’re taking care of yourself mentally and physically. I’m proud of you for doing this for yourself, we all are.” Anthony tells you as he motions to the two other men.

You look at all three of them, all of them looking at you with pride, “Thanks guys.”

Just like magic (Baby), just like magic (Oh yeah)

Middle finger to my thumb and then I snap it

Just like magic (Yeah), I'm attractive (Oh yeah)

I get everything I want 'cause I attract it (Oh)

As the months passed, the more you evolved into another version of you. You walked with determination, carried yourself with such grace and you’ve gained confidence in your career. You didn’t let your insecurities get to you, instead you faced them and overcame them. You were tired of letting them control you.

Your change in attitude and perspective on life has definitely affected your life in many ways. Manifestation was one of the things that have helped you the most. Writing about your goals and putting that energy out to the world has helped you persevere in your job. You’ve only faced good karma; sending out positive energy and receiving it back from the universe.

So far you’ve been casted in two new projects and have a campaign lined up with Gucci. If you were told a year ago that you’d be working with big time directors and freakin’ Gucci, you wouldn’t have believe them. Life has been unreal ever since you decided to change your life around. But of course you had to thank your Marvel family, without them and their support you probably wouldn’t haven gotten to where you were today.

Looking at my phone, but I'm tryna disconnect it (Oh yeah)

Read a fuckin' book, I be tryna stay connected (Yeah)

Say it's tricky at the top, gotta keep a slim ego for a thick wallet

Losing friends left and right, but I just send 'em love and light (Oh)

As many people recognized your success many people still tried to pull you down. Some fans on social media have noticed your change in behavior and have even praised you for practicing self care. While others still tried to push you off the mountain of success you were currently on and drag you across the ground.

These were the reasons as to why you were barely on your phone anymore. You used to be invested in your phone but after realizing how much negativity it brought you, you’ve decided to slowly disconnect from it. Which led you to becoming more interested into books.

Chris (E) had even brought some of his favorite arts of literature for you to borrow. You were currently on your third book of his, Sapiens A Brief History of Humankind by Yuval Noah Harari. You were sitting outside your trailer in a fold up chair under the shade. Your peacefulness was interrupted by Tom (Holland) who had a worried expression on his face.

“Have you not seen it yet?” He asked you as soon as he was in front of you. Being the two most youngest actors on the current set, you guys were closer to each other than with the adults.

“Seen what, Tommy?” You put a finger in between the pages you were reading to save your spot. Tom pulls his phone out and began to type. He tapped on his screen and turned the screen to you.

“She’s been talking crap about you for days.” You read the article and saw that one of your “friends”, Sabrina has been speaking out about your success and how it’s changed you as a person.

“She’s going off about how the more money you get in your wallet, the more bratty and arrogant you become.” He grumbled as he turned his phone off.

“I could care less, honestly. I know I haven’t done anything to her and if I did I was unaware of it. Plus, she stopped talking to me after I said I couldn’t get her a part in a movie.” You shrugged as you placed a proper bookmark in the book.

“You’re not upset?”

“I mean it’s sad that she’s acting so two faced. But if that’s how she wants to roll, then be my guest. It’s her loss, not everyone has great taste.” You flicked a piece of hair away from your face with your hand.

“You’re not gonna release a statement against her?”

“No, probably just wish her well with her life and move on with my own.” You answered much to Tom’s dismay.

Redesign your brain, we gon' make some new habits

Just like magic (Just like magic), just like magic

Filming has officially ended a few months ago and now you guys were doing press tour for Civil War. Before you were the new and improved version of yourself, you dreaded press tours. Some interviewers were nice and respectful, but there were those who would ask inappropriate questions and were just rude in general. All you could remember during those past tours was wanting to leave those rooms as soon as possible.

The q&a panel at New York had a packed room. There were many journalist crowded in the room shoulder to shoulder. You were sat in between Elizabeth and Scarlett, two of the women who have been guiding you and teaching you about life as a woman in the business. They were also like your older sisters.

The panel had been going smoothly for the first half hour until a man with a snobby face and cocky demeanor approached the mic.

“Hello, I’m Keith and my question’s for (y/n).” He began. You nodded in his direction, motioning for him to continue.

“I think everyone’s noticed how you’ve changed and developed as a person. Obviously something’s changed in your life. So I want to know if you’ve had any intimate relationships with any of the men in the cast?” You were surprised at the man’s question. First it was bold of him to ask such a question and second it was just disrespectful to you and the others on the cast.

“I mean someone’s gotta be fucking you good to make you crawl out your shell.” The man finished shrugging nonchalantly. Robert was about to interject but your mouth was quicker than his. The men of the cast were disgusted at the man while they sat at the edge of their seats.

“Well last time I checked my contract, my job was to act, not sleep around with the men who are part of these movies.” You spoke into the mic. All the attention was on you while the room was at a standstill.

“It’s also very upsetting that you think a girl needs to be fucked in order to be confident in herself. I hate to break it to you but women are completely capable of turning their lives around without the help of men and that says a lot about you, sir. So if I were you, I’d take myself back to my seat and rethink my life because if one of us has to redesign our brains it’s you.” You finished as you placed your mic on your lap. The room was silent until the cast began to clap. This was your first time standing up for yourself, usually Robert or Scarlett would swoop in and save you but this time, you were saving yourself.

You shook your head as you blushed, shoving your head in your hands. You felt some pats on the backs and cheers from your dysfunctional family. You look up and see Scarlett and Elizabeth smiling at you proudly.

“Isn’t she amazing?” Robert asked the crowd as he hugged you. The crowd cheering you on.

Just like magic, your life felt like a dream come true, knowing that you were worth it and enough for the people around you and for yourself.

[hellsbellschime]

Why Will Dany Burn King’s Landing?

Although most fans of A Song of Ice and Fire and Game of Thrones understandably aren't keen on revisiting the sloppy final season of the TV series, season 8 of the show is actually home to some of the most interesting indications of where the book series may or may not be going.

Season 8 was largely so confusing because the series was attempting to get across the finish line as fast as possible, but many of the messier aspects of the show were also clearly driven by the fact that Game of Thrones had already significantly deviated from the story that George RR Martin was trying to tell. So, when the time came for the TV series to end, the show had to push its characters into their decided endgames despite the fact that many alterations to their prior arcs now made those endings somewhat nonsensical.

George has already directly stated that the broad strokes of the ending will be the same in the books, but I think it stands to reason that the most controversial aspect of the series end, Daenerys' decision to burn King's Landing, will likely be significantly different within the books.

There are a lot of theories about how Dany's dark, or at least slightly darker, turn is going to go in the novels. Many fans unsuprisingly have come up with speculations that alleviate most of Dany's responsibility for the destruction of the city, but I think the notion that someone else will burn King's Landing or that Daenerys will burn the capitol by accident are extremely unlikely.

I can't envision a world where George RR Martin lets any of his main characters off the hook for the most destructive choice in the entire series, and frankly it has always been completely in character for Daenerys to justify any amount of devastation and destruction if it's in service of reclaiming the Iron Throne. And honestly, despite the fact that Game of Thrones retconned most of Dany's darkest book decisions and characteristics, even within the TV series itself, burning King's Landing was largely a logical extension of Dany's habit of killing anybody who gives even the slightest indication that they might not follow her.

However, it also seems undeniable that the burning of King's Landing is almost certainly going to come about due to different circumstances. And, it seems extremely likely that the omission of one significant character in the books, Young Griff, will be one of the key differences in the destruction of King's Landing and the entire Targaryen dynasty.

While I don't think Young Griff's non-Targaryen heritage is nearly as undeniable as many other fans do, one thing that seems very probable is that regardless of whether or not Aegon is really Aegon Targaryen, Daenerys will not believe that he is the long lost son of Rhaegar Targaryen.

Cersei becoming Dany's greatest rival never really made sense considering how few legitimate supporters she had. But on the other hand, someone like Young Griff, who has spent his entire life training to become the best king possible, seems like the kind of person who will likely win at least a significant amount of support among the lords of Westeros and the common people, who at this point would honestly prefer anyone other than Cersei anyway.

But, if Dany arrives in Westeros and there is a Targaryen who she doesn't believe is a Targaryen already sitting on the Iron Throne with the backing of a multitude of kingdoms as well as the common people, clearly she's going to be pissed. And obviously she's going to have a huge axe to grind with the boy who she believes has usurped her throne.

Dany has always been prone to violence to begin with, but now that she seems to have decided to go full fire and blood, it's not that difficult to figure out how she is likely going to handle Aegon the Sixth. But, I think that the penultimate episode of Game of Thrones may have already explained exactly how that is going to happen.

Like most fans, as soon as any information about the final season of Game of Thrones was released, I thought about what it could possibly be referring to or what it would mean. And one aspect of season 8 that seemed to not quite fit into anything within the rest of the series was the title of the episode "The Bells".

What initially interested me about that name was that not only was it the title for arguably the most important episode in the entire show, but that it referred to something that has a lot of thematic relevance within the books but that has been barely mentioned within the TV series. Bells are mentioned constantly in A Song of Ice and Fire, but they've only gotten a few nods within Game of Thrones. And I was even more surprised that, when the show actually aired, the ringing of the bells didn't seem to be hugely relevant to the episode itself either.

Yes, the bells do seem to trigger Dany's decision to burn the entire city down, but they aren't important before or after that, and when there are so many possible titles that are more connected to the series and the story, it still seems strange that "The Bells" was called "The Bells".

However, while bells are a bit of a perennial theme within A Song of Ice and Fire, I think one particular bell-themed subplot might be the exact history that is going to repeat itself when King's Landing burns to the ground, and I think that Daenerys might defeat Aegon in the second Battle of the Bells.

Jon Connington is another fantastic character who was completely omitted from the TV series, but it's interesting that the most fervent supporter of House Targaryen who was on the front lines fighting for Rhaegar in Robert's Rebellion seems to believe that the war wasn't actually lost in the Trident, but in Stoney Sept when Jon failed to root out Robert Baratheon.

JonCon's perspective on Rhaegar and on the entire war is undeniably warped, and in retrospect House Targaryen's dynasty was always destined to fail. Rhaegar may not have had the violent impulses of Aerys, but a dude who lets the entire realm devolve into chaos because he really needs to impregnate a teenager who is dubiously consenting at best was not going to bring peace and prosperity back to the realm. And in a broader sense, the Targaryen values of isolationism, superiority, subjugation, and consolidation of power seem to indicate that no matter what happened, as long as the Targaryens stuck to their beliefs then they were never going to hold on to the Seven Kingdoms.

But still, it seems incredibly important that Jon Connington believed that the Targaryens lost the Iron Throne in the Battle of the Bells, and it's even more important that he's almost certainly wrong. A Song of Ice and Fire has been pretty consistent in its portrayal of brutality. It has proven to be an effective tool in the short term, but it seems to have disastrous results in the long run. And, given that George RR Martin is an ardent pacifist, it's obvious that JonCon's belief that if he had only been crueler and more violent in Stoney Sept then the war would have been won for House Targaryen is a belief that is bound to be undermined.

The fact that Prince Aegon's greatest Westerosi supporter is so strong in this belief though seems to be an obvious setup for a clash in the future. It seems unlikely that the boy who Varys wanted to be the perfect king would be as brutal as someone like Tywin Lannister, and honestly, most people are not that violent nor do they believe that the only goal is winning no matter the cost.

But, it also seems to be a setup for a clash between Young Griff and Daenerys. After all, while most people wouldn't do absolutely anything to get what they believed was their birthright, Dany absolutely would. She internally justifies every action that she takes in service of getting the Iron Throne, and there doesn't seem to be a limit to the violence that she would excuse if it meant taking what she believes is rightfully hers.

The descriptions of the Battle of the Bells in Jon Connington's POV chapters are all very interesting, and it's telling that even in these few glimpses into his mind, this battle is so vitally important. But, Jon's memories are at their most interesting in the chapter "The Griffin Reborn," when he discusses his failings with Myles Toyne.

Jon tells himself that even Tywin Lannister couldn't have done anything more than what he did, but Toyne disagrees. Blackheart says “Lord Tywin would not have bothered with a search. He would have burned that town and every living creature in it. Men and boys, babes at the breast, noble knights and holy septons, pigs and whores, rats and rebels, he would have burned them all. When the fires guttered out and only ash and cinders remained, he would have sent his men in to find the bones of Robert Baratheon."

And while Myles is undoubtedly right that this is exactly what Tywin Lannister would have done, the particular description of the violence sounds undeniably Targaryen in nature. It literally sounds like fire and blood. And frankly, it sounds pretty close to what Daenerys did in Game of Thrones and is likely to do in King's Landing in A Song of Ice and Fire.

Conceptually, it's actually quite simple. Jon Connington will fight the Battle of the Bells once again, except this time he's going to be on the side of the new Robert Baratheon. If Young Griff is a remotely capable ruler who wins the hearts of the people, then it's entirely believable that the citizens of King's Landing would give him quarter when the dragon queen comes looking for him. And given Daenerys' typical patience level, it seems incredibly likely that Dany would just burn the traitors and find the bones of the usurper in the ashes.

Jon Connington has returned to Westeros operating under the belief that he is going to have to be tougher and more brutal to ensure that Young Griff ascends to the Iron Throne like Rhaegar never did, and to ensure that he's never overthrown like the Mad King was. So then, it would be a pretty perfect twist of fate if everything that Jon believes now winds up being proven wrong and he finds himself and the boy who he has vowed to defend to his last breath relying on the kindness of strangers to hide them from the Targaryen ruler and her armies who are searching for them.

And ironically, Jon will not do what he has set out to do, succeed for the son where he failed for the father, precisely because the enemy that he's facing now will be ready and willing to use the brutality that JonCon originally shied away from in Stoney Sept. If Young Griff and the elder Griffon were actually dealing with a rival who was similar to the younger Jon Connington, someone who wasn't willing to wreak havoc and destruction in order to find their enemy at all costs, then they might have a chance at at least surviving.  

But, because Dany is the type of person who serves up fire and blood to anyone she thinks even might be her enemy, any of King Aegon's protectors will be treated with the brutality that Jon currently believes is necessary to win, and Young Griff will be killed anyway. And of course, while Daenerys will almost certainly win the battle against Aegon the Sixth, her decision to be as violent and swift as possible in order to root out her enemies will also lead to her ultimate downfall and a truly irrevocable end to the Targaryen dynasty.

Thematically, the repetition of past mistakes, the false belief that great violence in service of a supposedly greater good is worthwhile, and the false belief that brutality is strength, all fits in well with A Song of Ice and Fire and George RR Martin's political point of view. But obviously, given that Aegon Targaryen, Jon Connington, and their entire branch of the story was omitted in Game of Thrones, none of this could have ever happened in the TV series. And perhaps the title of the penultimate episode was a subtle nod to the climax that the writers know will be coming in the books.

[stopeatingwhales]

the 1995 brits (pt. 2) x damon albarn & liam gallagher

ok this has nothing to do with the brits bc now its about glastonbury 1995 i just didn't know whether i should rename it lmaoo okay enjoy x

Pairing: 1995 damon albarn & liam gallagher x reader

Warnings: none at all

Word count: 2.495

part one

༉‧₊˚✧

The Glastonbury festival was always one of the best gatherings for music every year. All the best acts in the music would all be invited to perform, and it was amazing. It formed a unity, a connection between the fans and the artists, the creators and the consumers, morphing an atmosphere which only gentrified the solidarity and wholeness the nation felt when they all held adoration to the same album, same songs, singing the choruses from their hearts, with their whole being. It was a spiritual connection with the audience; you weren’t singing to them, you were singing with them. Nothing got as good as Glastonbury - a concert size any larger you would begin to feel detached with the audience - and boy was it a good feeling to be invited this year. Our band had blown up massively, and to be able to perform on the main stage, celebrating the summer and the true joys that music is able to provide and attain, is more than just doing your part. It’s a humbling experience; the lyrics that may have seemingly been written down as a daft thought on the back of a napkin whilst you were sitting having a coffee, relaxing in the tedious cycle that is life, being chanted back to you, shows the true connection those can have with simple melodies and lyrics. Once it’s released in any format, the music, the lyrics, the melodies, they aren’t yours; just as a book, once released, is not the authors’ anymore. It possesses the ownership of the public, that who purchases it, wears it out, listens to the songs back to back to memorise every single lyric and adlib. The songs become the nation's songs, they become the mere link to a dozen memories of each and every person, which they would take to their grave, remembering the good times, and potentially the bad. The true power of music is that it forms a connection - not just with the artist, but with yourself. You can relate to whatever has been said, you can understand yourself just that bit more which allows you to grow as a person, and mature and better into the person that you were set out to be.

I was standing backstage, currently watching the performance lead by Blur, trying to hide from any form of authority who would know that I wasn’t supposed to be back here yet. My band was on in a few hours, so I wasn’t permitted backstage, the only people allowed being the group that was on next. As I admired the performance being put on by Damon and the rest of the band, mumbling lyrics every now and again of songs that I had known from their albums, I felt an arm snake its way around my waist, the grip of the person’s palm squeezing my hip slightly. “Now how come I haven’t seen your pretty face in a while?” said Liam, who was grinning at me widely.

Since the Brit awards, I forced myself to stop partying as much as I used to, due to the addiction that had been stemming from my consistent use of drugs and alcohol. It began to take its toll on me entirely, and I hated the lifestyle that I had started to inhabit. Sex, booze, drugs... they all seem so wonderful, and seem to be fundamental elements that could provide an enjoyable time, don't they? But with repetitive use of such recreational activities, it would not only initiate the worst hangovers, but would also form a pit of longing in the body, endured with your attempt to fill it up with all the illegal pharmaceuticals to make you feel whole again, but of course, the happiness only lasts for a short while before you’re passed out on a couch, waking up at 5 in the afternoon with a raging headache and the only access to pain medication being a five minute walk to the nearest corner shop because you had finished it all. And to your surprise, the pit only got more deep and paining. It was ironic; the drugs designed for jubilation, euphoria, fulfillment, started to make me feel worse than I had already done previously. “I’ve just been caught up with working on the new album, so I’ve been too focused on that to be going out like I used to,” I replied, a grin masked over my lips. It was far from a lie; my band were currently working on our third album, and it had been quite an interesting experience as we were reinventing our sound, though wasn’t the main reason I had avoided all clubs in sight. “You miss me?”

“Course I do, you’re the only girl I know that’ll go as hard as the rest of the lads,” a frown painted over his face as he looked down on me. “It’s hot, y’know.”

I scoffed, my smile still evident on my face. “Oh Liam, you’re going to make me blush!” I joked, placing my arm around his waist. We both carried on watching the performance being led by Damon, who currently had the crowd screaming over the top of their heads at Girls and Boys. Oasis were on after - even these concerts were chipping in on the mess of their feud. “You nervous?”

“Me? Nervous? Never.” Liam replied, snarling at my question.

“Really?” I asked, diverting my stare to look up at Liam, my eyebrows raised in a sarcastic manner. Even though it wasn’t evident from his facial expression, everybody would be nervous. Especially if you were performing on the main stage in a few minutes.

“Okay, maybe a little bit.” He mumbled, staring at Damon with a look of disgust on his face.

“Knew it,” I grinned, allowing my hand to run up and down his back as a form of comfort to soothe his nerves. The tight grip he kept consistent on my waist proved that he felt tense. “You’ll be amazing, you always are.”

“You hitting on me?” he quickly fired back, cocking his head to the side as he admired me, his gaze flicking to my lips every now and again.

“Of course I am.” I sarcastically replied, rolling my eyes at Liam’s child-like characteristics. By now Blur had finished their set, leaving the crowd screaming and waving things in the air as a form of goodbye. Me and Liam stayed put in our place as the four boys waltzed off the stage, me congratulating them as they walked off one by one. Damon was the last to walk off, and as he began strolling off the stage proudly, our eyes connected, causing me to dart my stare away from his robust glare that had reflected off of his orbs. Knowing of his distaste in Liam, I brushed it off immediately, remembering the pettiness of their argument the last time we had all been together at the Brits. I heard Liam utter some profanity under his breath after Damon walked past us, but I chose not to question him on it, full-well knowing it was either wanker or cunt.

When the rest of the band turned up and Oasis were on cue to go on, Liam quickly detached himself from our embrace, pressing his lips to my cheek, grinning at me widely. “Don’t miss me too much!” he shouted as he walked onto the stage, causing the crowd to erupt into a fit from the mere sight of the band getting themselves ready - Liam just standing there cooly, picking up the tambourine left on the floor for him. I marvelled at the band as they began their set, instantly grinning as soon as Liam began singing the lyrics to Rock n Roll star. Let’s hope he’s not walking off stage this time.

I continued to concentrate on their performance, oftentimes laughing as the crowd progressively got more and more rowdy, screaming the lyrics as Liam sang them, as if Noel’s backing vocals weren’t enough to keep the song going to its full potential. “I wonder when you’re going to realise that you like me.” I heard a voice mutter from behind, causing me to abruptly turn my head, even though I knew exactly who it was. My eyes were greeted with the sight of Damon, a small smirk illustrated on his lips as he glued his eyes on mine - just like he had done before when he walked past me and Liam.

“I’m sorry?” I scoffed, raising my eyebrows at his clearly egotistical assumption, though I couldn’t help but resist a smile to contract on my cheeks as I gazed at him. Much like me and Liam, we also hadn’t spoken since the Brit awards, and it would’ve been a lie if I hadn’t wanted to talk to him again. Despite the fact that there was a certain tension between us that, from each meeting, seemed to intensify, and was something we were both clearly aware of, I ignored it entirely - even if my bandmates had teased me religiously every time they saw me have an encounter with him. Go out with him already! You two are constantly flirting!

Moving away from where I was standing, I made my way over to him to be able to talk over the loud music seeping out of the speakers, instead of shouting at one another. We then exited the backstage area together, welcoming us to the view of a plain grassland where a couple trailers had been parked, both of our bands included. Eventually, we walked to one of the random trailers, assuming it was his one, and stood against the shiny metal impediment as we shared a cigarette.

“Don’t act like it’s not true,” he replied casually, him reciprocating my grin as we began to walk further into the backstage space. “I saw the way you were eyeing me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I replied, attempting to act oblivious towards his statement. I could feel him gawking, focused on me as I admired the blooming sunlight that casted out towards us, the light so bright that it caused my eyes to tear up slightly. The music was still very much audible, and the screams of the many thousands jammed together in the mosh pit were still extremely loud.

“Oh, but you do.” he mumbled, causing me to shift my view to look at him. He had now fixated his stare onto the sun, the cigarette softly placed between his lips as he inhaled quickly before taking it out and allowing the built-up smoke from his lungs to escape into the atmosphere. Dropping the tobacco roll onto the ground, he placed his foot over it in order to burn it out, then turning his head to fixate his gaze onto mine. A brief moment of silence passed as we admired one another, the atmosphere carrying an element of apprehension as to what was about to occur between us. Through my peripheral I saw moving his body slightly to come closer to mine as he lifted his back off the metal surface and stood in front of me, my gaze not daring to leave him. Our eyes maintained strong eye contact as I felt my cheeks began to heat up furiously, followed by my attempt on telling myself that it was simply due to the sun’s radiance that my face held such warmth, almost as if to doubt the feelings, the tensions that had constantly piled up every time we had seen one another.

Our noses touched as our faces then became inches apart, my eyes focused on Damon, who kept darting his eyes to my lips every few seconds. Tilting his head slightly, he leaned his body forward, softly pressing his lips onto mine. We stood there for a few seconds, to allow the moment to truly sink in. His hands were gently placed on my waist as I placed them on his arms, like a form of support to allow myself to stay upright. After a while, I snaked my hands around his neck in order to deepen the kiss, the warmth of his lips colliding against mine sending shocks all around my body - the moment didn’t feel real at all. It was as if this entire time of me knowing of him, interacting with him, being in his presence, I had attempted to avoid myself catching feelings, not getting myself engraved in a situation with another musician, but due to my mind forcing such a hindrance, it became an inevitability - I caught feelings for Damon Albarn.

As we pulled away to catch our breaths, Damon leaned back, sneaking his arms around my waist as he looked down on me. “You liked that.”

“Shut up.”

“Can’t wait for Liam to find out about this.” he grinned, playing with strands of my hair as I glared at him. I knew he was aware of the glare I was giving him, because he seemingly began to grin even wider.

“He won’t, because you’re not going to tell him.” I replied bluntly, placing my hands on his chest as I began to draw little circles over his shirt. It felt so surreal, yet so normal - there was a certain amenity shared between us proving that what was felt in the past was indeed real, and indeed reciprocated.

“Always knew you’d give in one day.” he mumbled, a devilish grin painted on his lips.

“Really?” I scoffed. “Even when the tabloids were convinced me and Gallagher were an item?” I asked, staring straight into his eyes. I noticed him frown slightly after the question left my mouth, my lips attempting to form into a smile as I broke off his smug persona.

“Well it looks like you’ve left Liam to be with me.” he grinned, our eyes connecting once again. I took his hand away from my hair to interlace it with mine, holding it close to my chest for Damon to be able to feel my heartbeat. Even though anybody could have opened their trailer door and witnessed us in such an affectionate state, none of that seemingly mattered to either one of us. Everything that had occurred between me and Damon felt so perfect, to the point that I would want somebody to come and witness the true beauty of this moment. There was a strong feeling in my chest that I wanted him to feel, to understand, that what was occurring between us truly meant something, and wasn’t just a silly little play to mess with my feelings.

“Liam’s not that bad you know.”

“I’m just joking, love, don’t worry.” he mumbled, bringing our interlaced hands to his face to allow him to kiss the back of my hand. “You wanna go get something to eat before you head on?”

“Sure, I’d love to.” I said, forcing us to detach our bodies from our embrace and walk over to one of the food stalls, hand in hand.

[littlemixnet]

To me, a good ally is someone who is consistent in their efforts – there’s a difference between popping on a pride playlist or sprinkling yourself in rainbow glitter once a year and actually defending LGBT+ people against discrimination. It means showing my LGBT+ fans that I support them wholeheartedly and am making a conscious effort to educate myself, raise awareness and show up whenever they need me to. It would be wrong of me to benefit from the community as a musician without actually standing up and doing what I can to support. As someone in the public eye, it’s important to make sure your efforts are not performative or opportunistic. I’m always working on my allyship and am very much aware that I’ve still got a lot of unlearning and learning to do. There are too many what I call ‘dormant allies’, believing in equality but not really doing more than liking or reposting your LGBT+ mate’s content now and again. Imagine if that friend then saw you at the next march, or signing your name on the next petition fighting for their rights? Being an ally is also about making a conscious effort to use the right language and pronouns, and I recently read a book by Glennon Doyle who spoke of her annoyance and disappointment of those who come out and are met with ‘We love you…no matter what’. I’d never thought of that expression like that before and it really struck a chord with me. ‘No matter what’ suggests you are flawed. Being LGBT+ is not a flaw. Altering your language and being conscious of creating a more comfortable environment for your LGBT+ family and friends is a good start. Nobody is expecting you to suddenly know it all, I don’t think there’s such a thing as a perfect ally. I’m still very much learning. Even recently, after our Confetti music video I was confronted with the fact that although we made sure our video was incredibly inclusive, we hadn’t brought in any actual drag kings. Some were frustrated, and they had every right to be. You can have the right intentions and still fall short. As an open ally I should have thought about that, and I hadn’t, and for that I apologise. Since then I’ve been doing more research on drag king culture, because it’s definitely something I didn’t know enough about, whether that was because it isn’t as mainstream yet mixed with my own ignorance. But the point is we mess up, we apologise, we learn from it and we move forward with that knowledge. Don’t let the fear of f**king up scare you off. And make sure you are speaking alongside the community, not for the community. Growing up in a small Northern working-class town, some views were, and probably still are, quite ‘old fashioned’ and small-minded. I witnessed homophobia at an early age. It was a common thought particularly among men that it was wrong to be anything but heterosexual. I knew very early on I didn’t agree with this, but wasn’t educated or aware enough on how to combat it. I did a lot of performing arts growing up and within that space I had many LGBT+ (mainly gay) friends. I’ve been a beard many a time let me tell you! But it was infuriating to see friends not feel like they could truly be themselves. When I moved to London I felt incredibly lonely and like I didn’t fit in. It was my gay friends (mainly my friend and hairstylist, Aaron Carlo) who took me under their wing and into their world. Walking into those gay bars or events like Sink The Pink, it was probably the first time I felt like I was in a space where everyone in that room was celebrated exactly as they are. It was like walking into a magical wonderland. I got it. I clicked with everyone. My whole life I struggled with identity – being mixed race for me meant not feeling white enough, or black enough, or Arab enough. I was a ‘tomboy’ and very nerdy. I suppose on a personal level that maybe played a part in why I felt such a connection or understanding of why those spaces for the LGBT+ community are so important. One of the most obvious examples of first realising Little Mix was having an effect in the community was that I couldn’t enter a gay bar without hearing a Little Mix song and watching numerous people break out into full choreo from our videos! I spent the first few years of our career seeing this unfold and knowing the LGBT+ fan base were there, but it wasn’t until I got my own Instagram or started properly going through Twitter DMs that I realised a lot of our LGBT+ fans were reaching out to us on a daily basis saying how much our music meant to them. I received a message from a boy in the Middle East who hadn’t come out because in his country homosexuality is illegal. His partner tragically took their own life and he said our music not only helped him get through it, but gave him the courage to start a new life somewhere else where he could be out and proud. There are countless other stories like theirs, which kind of kickstarted me into being a better ally. Another standout moment would be when we performed in Dubai in 2019. We were told numerous times to ‘abide by the rules’, which meant not promoting anything LGBT+ or too female-empowering (cut to us serving a four-part harmony to Salute). In my mind, we either didn’t go or we’d go and make a point. When Secret Love Song came on, we performed it with the LGBT+ flag taking up the whole screen behind us. The crowd went wild, I could see fans crying and singing along in the audience and when we returned it was everywhere in the press. I saw so many positive tweets and messages from the community. It made laying in our hotel rooms s**tting ourselves that we’d get arrested that night more than worth it. It was through our fans and through my friends I realised I need to be doing more in my allyship. One of the first steps in this was meeting with the team at Stonewall to help with my ally education and discussing how I could be using my platform to help them and in turn the community. Right now, and during lockdown, I’d say my ally journey has been a lot of reading on LGBT+ history, donating to the right charities and raising awareness on current issues such as the conversion therapy ban and the fight for equality of trans lives. Stonewall is facing media attacks for its trans-inclusive strategies and there is an alarming amount of seemingly increasing transphobia in the UK today and we need to be doing more to stand with the trans community. Still, there is definitely a pressure I feel as someone in the public eye to constantly be saying and doing the right things, especially with cancel culture becoming more popular. I s**t myself before most interviews now, on edge that the interviewer might be waiting for me to ‘slip up’ or I might say something that can be misconstrued. Sometimes what can be well understood talking to a journalist or a friend doesn’t always translate as well written down, which has definitely happened to me before. There’ve been moments where I’ve (though well intentioned) said the wrong thing and had an army of Twitter warriors come at me. Don’t get me wrong, there are obviously more serious levels of f**king up that are worthy of a cancelling. But it was quite daunting to me to think that all of my previous allyship could be forgotten for not getting something right once. When that’s happened to me before I’ve scared myself into thinking I should STFU and not say anything, but I have to remember that I am human, I’m going to f**k up now and again and as long as I’m continuing to educate myself to do better next time then that’s OK. I’m never going to stop being an ally so I need to accept that there’ll be trickier moments along the way. I think that might be how some people may feel, like they’re scared to speak up as an ally in case they say the wrong thing and face backlash. Just apologise to the people who need to be apologised to, and show that you’re doing what you can to do better and continue the good fight. Don’t burden the community with your guilt. When it comes to the music industry, I’m definitely seeing a lot more LGBT+ artists come through and thrive, which is amazing. Labels, managements, distributors and so forth need to make sure they’re not just benefiting from LGBT+ artists but show they’re doing more to actually stand with them and create environments where those artists and their fans feel safe. A lot of feedback I see from the community when coming to our shows is that they’re in a space where they feel completely free and accepted, which I love. I get offered so many opportunities to do with LGBT+ based shows or deals and while it’s obviously flattering, I turn most of them down and suggest they give the gig to someone more worthy of that role. But really, I shouldn’t have to say that in the first place. The fee for any job I do take that feels right for me but has come in as part of the community goes to LGBT+ charities. That’s not me blowing smoke up my own arse, I just think the more of us and big companies that do that, the better. We need more artists, more visibility, more LGBT+ mainstream shows, more shows on LGBT+ history and more artists standing up as allies. We have huge platforms and such an influence on our fans – show them you’re standing by them. I’ve seen insanely talented LGBT+ artist friends in the industry who are only recently getting the credit they deserve. It’s amazing but it’s telling that it takes so long. It’s almost expected that it will be a tougher ride. We also need more understanding and action on the intersectionality between being LGBT+ and BAME. Racism exists in and out of the community and it would be great to see more and more companies in the industry doing more to combat that. The more we see these shows like Drag Race on our screens, the more we can celebrate difference. Ever since I was a little girl, my family would go to Benidorm and we’d watch these glamorous, hilarious Queens onstage; I was hooked. I grew up listening to and loving the big divas – Diana Ross (my fave), Cher, Shirley Bassey, and all the queens would emulate them. I was amazed at their big wigs, glittery overdrawn make-up and fabulous outfits. They were like big dolls. Most importantly, they were unapologetically whoever the f**k they wanted to be. As a shy girl who didn’t really understand why the world was telling me all the things I should be, I almost envied the queens but more than anything I adored them. Drag truly is an art form, and how incredible that every queen is different; there are so many different styles of drag and to me they symbolise courage and freedom of expression. Everything you envisioned your imaginary best friend to be, but it’s always been you. There’s a reason why the younger generation are loving shows like Drag Race. These kids can watch this show and not only be thoroughly entertained, but be inspired by these incredible people who are unapologetically themselves, sharing their touching stories and who create their own support systems and drag families around them. Now and again I think of when I’d see those Queens in Benidorm, and at the end they’d always sing I Am What I Am as they removed their wigs and smudged their make up off, and all the dads would be up on their feet cheering for them, some emotional, like they were proud. But that love would stop when they’d go back home, back to their conditioned life where toxic heteronormative behaviour is the status quo. Maybe if those same men saw drag culture on their screens they’d be more open to it becoming a part of their everyday life. I’ll never forget marching with Stonewall at Manchester Pride. I joined them as part of their young campaigners programme, and beforehand we sat and talked about allyship and all the young people there asked me questions while sharing some of their stories. We then began the march and I can’t explain the feeling and emotion watching these young people with so much passion, chanting and being cheered by the people they passed. All of these kids had their own personal struggles and stories but in this environment, they felt safe and completely proud to just be them. I knew the history of Pride and why we were marching, but it was something else seeing what Pride really means first hand. My advice for those who want to use their voice but aren’t sure how is, just do it hun. It’s really not a difficult task to stand up for communities that need you. Change can happen quicker with allyship.

Jade Thirlwall on the power, and pressures, of being an LGBT ally: ‘I’m gonna f**k up now and again’

[mediocre-writerr]

invisible string [quinn fabray]

quinn fabray x reader

requested by anon: Hey, I love your writing and I loved Quinn Fabray's miniseries. Could you do a sequel to "Betty", maybe Quinn and the reader meeting in episode 100 and giving them a second chance? I would love :)

pt.1  pt.2 pt.3

*not my gif*

There was once a old folklore. It once said that everyone had an invisible string tying one to their soulmate.

A simpler term for it would be fate.

That everyone decision, good or bad, would lead you to that one person.

The invisible gold string would drag you out of the wrong arms, wrapped all of your past mistakes, and chained your demons back. The one single thread would lead them to you, no matter how far you’ve strayed.

Not many people believe in it anymore because of the time. The time that it takes for the invisible string to tie one another together took far too long, maybe that’s why you didn’t believe anymore.

There you were back at McKinley High School. When Mr. Shue told you that the glee club was shutting down and you were having one last hoorah, you did not hesitate to book a first flight home.

Walking down the hallway with your classic olive green cardigan that made you feel like you seventeen again and straight back into the classroom that made you feel like home.

And there she was the beautiful blonde who held your heart and dropped it all at once, “Y/N,” she let out a breath as her eyes caught on yours.

“Hey Quinn,” you told her with a shy smile, “Long time no see,”

“Yeah, how has college at Penn State?” she asked as the two of you made small conversation in the middle of the choir room.

You shrugged, “It’s been nice, I don’t know if it’s everything I’ve dreamed it would be, but it’s good. How’s Yale?”

The two of you didn’t live far, it wasn’t all the way across the country. It was driving across a few state lines, but you never hung out. In fact, you barely talked after the two of you had broken up.

“Good, good. It uh feels like I’m missing something, but I don’t think I would change my decision,” she told you and you nodded.

She was about to say something else when you heard someone scream your name, “Y/N!” Sam yelled as he rushed over towards you.

You broke out into a big smile as he picked you up from off the ground, spinning you around and around. You let out a hearty laugh as he set you down.

“I’ve missed you!” he told you as he let go.

You smiled, “I’ve missed you too, bud. I wish our third musketeer was still here with us,” you said with a sad smile.

He let out a sigh, “I know, me too,” he turned to Quinn who looked hurt and jealous at the same time. Do you know why? No, but she always has been hard to read.

“Hey Quinn,” he said, giving her a tight hug.

She hugged him back with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, “Hey Sam, I’m gonna go catch up with Mercedes. I’ll catch the two of you later,”

You and Sam looked at each other with furrowed brows before eventually shrugging it off.

You thought that coming back here would bring back loads of bad memories from the cheating to the heartbreak to losing Finn, but it didn’t. As the day went on you remembered why you fell in love with her in the first place.

The way she sang, so full of heart. When she crinkled her nose as she smiled. Or how big her heart is for people she actually lets in.

And at first you weren’t too sure, but when the nostalgia of the club forced you guys to sing your iconic duet, it just hit you harder than before.

“I think we need the iconic rendition of Everything Has Changed from Quinn and Y/N,” Mercedes admitted and your heart immediately stopped.

You looked at Quinn who was already staring at you, like she was seeking approval, “Let’s give the people what they want,”

You grabbed your guitar playing the soft acoustic intro, as she stood on the opposite side of the room, both of you unable to look away from the other.

“All I knew, this morning when I woke is I know something now, know something now, I didn’t before. And all I’ve seen since eighteen hours ago is green eyes and freckles in your smile in the back of my mind, making me feel like,” she began to sing and you forgot how soothing her voice was. Like everything in the world kind of faded away at the sound of her voice.

As the song went on the two of you closed the gap between you until you were face to face. The only thing separating the two of you was the guitar that was wrapped across your body.

“All I know is we said ‘hello’ and your eyes look like coming home. All I know is a simple name and everything has changed. All I know is you held the door, you’ll be mine and I’ll be yours. All I know since yesterday is everything has changed,” the two of you sang.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from her only doing so when they averted to her lips. Like two puzzle pieces that were supposed to fit together, you were about to connect when the sound of clapping tore you from each other. And with one last lingering look, you broke the gaze as everyone was clapping and smiling like we were all seventeen again.

You didn’t know what to do though. Finn was usually the one to give you advice, but he wasn’t here, so you did the second best thing. The boys locker room was empty as his football jersey hung proudly on the wall. The big number five just staring back at you.

“Hey buddy, I’m in kind of a dilemma right now,” you told him honestly, “And I really wish you were actually here to tell me what to do. You were always good at that,”

He probably would’ve chuckled at what you said, recalling the time where he told you to not eat that funnel cake on senior ditch day before the rollercoaster, but you did anyway and puked all over his shoes.

“I think I’m still in love with Quinn and that absolutely terrifies me. I don’t want to get hurt again,” you whispered, tears staring to sting your eyes when you realize he’s not gonna be there to hug you.

“I’ve been so scared to put myself back out there and when I do it just feels like no one compares to him. And God I wish you could be here right now to tell me what to do because you would know, you always did,”

That’s when you heard someone clear their throat. You looked to find the source of the noise, seeing Coach Beiste standing there next to the office door.

“Hey pumpkin, do you mind if I sit here?” she asked as she pointed to the empty seat on the bleacher.

All you did was nod, before wiping your eyes, “I’m sorry, I know I’m not supposed to be here,”

“Eh it’s okay. You aren’t the first girl who’s come in here to talk to him,” she told you with a shrug.

“Rachel come in here too?” you asked.

She shook her head, “Nope,” she popped the ‘p’ in the word, “Quinn, turns out she needed advice of her own and she asked him a question,”

“About?” you asked, curiously.

“I can’t tell you that,” she confessed. 

“Hey Finn,” Quinn told him, staring at the jersey that was hanging on the wall, “God I don’t think I ever stopped loving her. Actually I know I never stopped loving her, but I’m so scared Finn. I don’t know if she’ll give me a shot or anything, but I don’t want to hurt her,” she confessed.

There was a moment of silence, before she continued on again. 

“I’m so scared that I’m gonna hurt her again and she doesn’t deserve that. But if I don’t tell her how I feel then she’s gonna be the one who got away,” she contemplated it for herself for a second, “Do I have your blessing to love her again? I know how much she meant to you. If you do give me a sign, anything,” 

She sat there on the bench for a moment before something fell off the shelf. She let our a teary laugh, “Thank you,” 

After a little more time she left the room as Coach Beiste left her office to pick up the towel that she dropped. 

“I know I’m not Finn, but do you mind if I give you some advice?”

“Please, I really need it right now,”

She smiled, rubbing your back, “Go for it. If Finn was here he’d tell you something like ‘don’t give up on something that would be good for you’. And I bet if he could come down here right now and tell you one piece of advice it would be dont take life for granted. Don’t let the love of your life slip away like he did. I think that was his one big regret, not being with Rachel before he passed. I think he wants you to be happy,”

“And my advice the two of you are mature now. All of the negative emotions and feelings are easier to talk out now. So talk and just go for it, life’s too short to waste another second,” she told you and you smiled at her with teary eyed.

“I miss him,” I whispered, staring back at the jersey on the wall. 

“Me too, pumpkin, me too,” 

After a few more minutes, you hopped back onto your feet and went to find Quinn. You searched every hallway and every classroom for Quinn, but came up empty. Until you found her outside by the football field. There was a little tree made out in his honor, she was looking at it, just staring, contemplating everything.

“Quinn!” you shouted and her head shot up to the name of her voice.

You were making a bee-line straight for her, “Y/N are you-” but you cut her off and kissed her. Your hands grasping her cheeks and pulling her towards you. 

The two of you pulled away and looked at each other, “Everyone deserves a second chance,” 

“Are you sure?” she asked you, a small smile on her face.

“Very, very sure,” 

The invisible string tied her to you. 

[hops-hunny]

Temptation

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x McGonagall!Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 4k

Request: “Could you maybe do a Neville x reader where the reader is McGonagall's grandchild?”

Summary: Neville had never experienced temptation, till it walked by him in a pleated skirt.

Warnings: Suggestive thoughts???

A/N: I won’t even lie, this was very self indulgent. I didn’t mean to write this much but oh well! Also I noticed I read the prompt wrong and wrote this for fem reader so I apologize anon. I still hope you can find joy in this!

Temptation. Temptation was a word Neville knew well. He had heard it many upon many times. From his peers, and even some of his teachers. However, he never really understood what it felt like to experience it, to have it coursing through his very being. Well, that was until it came knocking on his door or, to put it more precisely, walking by him in a (y/h/h) robe and vanilla-lavender perfume. He didn’t expect it to have such a beautiful laugh and he certainly didn’t expect it to be McGonagall's granddaughter! No matter how many times he had heard it described to him and how many times he had heard the feeling be recited to him like one of those shit muggle pop songs, it still didn’t prepare him for the real experience itself.

Could she be anymore perfect? Anymore graceful, anymore well, tempting? She was the kind of beauty that he read about in books and the kind of beauty he saw when he looked at all the flowers that bloomed within the greenhouse. He watched, observing her beauty as she walked. His face flushed softly as he saw her eyes light up, head facing straight ahead and shoulders held high unaware of his eyes of adoration upon her. His gaze was then shifted to her hair. The way the light reflected off of the (h/c) strand made his heart race! Next was one of his favorite things, her smile. Her smile was enough to brighten anyone's day! Well...it most certainly brightened his that is. His eyes fixated on her legs, the soft sheen they held. ‘God they look smooth, like the softest of pillows, the smoothest of silks, the fluffiest, puffiest of clouds. I bet the-’ he was broken out of his thoughts as she came to a stop in front of her grandmother which made him a bit queasy to his stomach. If only McGonagall new about his thoughts...wait did she? She could be using legilimency on him this very moment and he’d have no clue. What if she was, what if she-

He jumped, squeaking softly as a hand came down hard on his shoulder causing his body to tense. And his gaze to shift to the source of the force relaxing when he saw it was Dean. 

“Hey Nev, what are you doing just standing here? Oh I see what it is!” He exclaimed smiling at his lanky friend, watching his eyes flicker back and forth between in front of him and back to himself. Neville gulped, tugging at his sleeves a bit as his shirt suddenly began to feel constraining.

“Y-you do?” he asked nervously. His throat began to feel smaller. The problem with Neville’s little…’temptation’ was that he hadn’t mentioned it to anyone. It wasn’t like he hadn’t had feelings for people before. He had his fair share of crushes throughout the year. But she was different. See, he wasn’t the first one to notice how beautiful the girl was. Heavens no! Quite a few of his peers had noticed just how breathtaking (Y/n) was but once they saw the last name that was attached to her, that was more than enough to turn them the other way. However, the connection to her grandmother not only put up an invisible force field for suitors, but friends as well. He found himself feeling sorry for her often, he could only imagine how lonely she was. 

“Yeah, I do. You were waiting for me to find you so you could help me with my herbology homework! Man Nev, you’re such a good friend.” he said. Neville rolled his eyes noticing all of Dean’s missing coursework for herbology within his hands. As much as he loved his friend, he also couldn’t deny how unbelievably idiotic he was. Although he was disappointed in how irresponsible he was, he was also relieved he hadn’t noticed what had actually had him standing there lost in his thoughts. “Oh and I also saw you staring at McGonagall junior. I don’t blame you mate, she’s bloody fit. Have you seen her in that skirt she wears to Hogsmeade? It makes me just wanna-” Neville smacked his friend on the back again ignoring his groan of protest. He began to walk off leaving Dean confused. Neville noticed the lack of his friend's presence near him causing him to turn around.

“Do you want help with your herbology work or not?”

-----------

(Y/n) sat with Luna in the courtyard, watching as her friend picked at the wildflowers twisting them and molding them into a flower crown. She sighed once again as she continued to ramble onto her. “I don’t know Lu, he’s just so cute! I wouldn’t even know how to approach him. Besides, he probably wants someone from his own house and year, yknow?” She said as she glanced at her preoccupied friend. “Are you even listening to me?” she huffed frustratedly. Luna looked at her, rolling her eyes at her a bit.

“You’re only a year below us (Y/n), you talk about him as if he’s an old man! Besides, the whole different house thing would only matter to him if he was a Slytherin. Neville doesn’t care about little things like that.” she took the completed crown placing it on her friend’s head as she smiled at her. “Yknow, for someone at the top of your year you’re quite daft.” Luna said nonchalantly, causing her friend’s eye to twitch. One thing (Y/n) would never get quite used to is her friend’s ability to tell people the truth as if it were nothing. Luna squeezed the girl’s soft (s/c) hand before smiling at her. “Besides, you’re beautiful! If he doesn’t want you, I know there are plenty of guys who most certainly do!” (Y/n) felt herself get quite shy at her friend’s words, rubbing at the goosebumps that were forming on her arm. But, she was right. She couldn’t let her thoughts of if or if not a guy liked her get her down. 

“Hey (Y/n), have you ever, yknow, actually tried TALKING to the guy?” Ginny asked, smacking on the taffy she had been eating. The (e/c) eyed girl felt herself getting flustered once again.

“W-well, the short answer is no. Don’t look at me like that! I’ve TRIED. Every time I try something comes up! I’m either almost late to class, one of his friend’s comes up to him, or I have to do something for my Nan! It’s a lot harder trying to talk to someone when you don’t have any classes with them..” she said as she began to pout, reminded of her failed attempts to speak to the awkwardly charming boy. Ginny popped another taffy in her mouth, processing her friend's words before smirking a bit.

“Just leave it to me, I have the perfect plan! Don’t you worry a single little hair on that pretty head of yours.” she said, causing both of her friends to side eye her both with the same thought in mind: ‘Oh Merlin, what is she thinking now?’

---------------

Well, what Ginny had been thinking wasn’t too bad but, (Y/n) was still quite nervous as she sat here. She was thankful Ginny hadn’t trapped them in a 1 on 1 situation or did something fucking stupid such as locking them in the room of requirement together. No, instead she had gathered her and Neville’s shared group of friends and decided to have a picnic together whilst everyone else was at Hogsmeade. Luna had asked the house elves to spare some of the extra food they had from lunch which they gave to her kindly considering how sweet she was to them always. 

Even though all of their friends were there, she still found herself being nervous which is why she still sat on the blanket with Hermione as Ron, Harry, and Dean picked on Neville lightheartedly by splashing him with water, Ginny and Luna challenged each other to different swim challenges, and Hermione read a book, relaxing comfortably under the shade of the tree. She sighed to herself, hugging her legs closer to her chest as she brought her face to rest upon her knees. She let her eyes wander back to Neville, a smile gracing her face as she observed him. She never got the time to just watch him in a natural environment. Every time she saw him, he was always so jumpy or nervous, awkwardly engaging in conversation with people who usually just wanted herbology help or needed advice on how to care for their plants. But now, watching as he smiled and laughed with their friends she realized just how infatuated with him she truly was. She took in the way his hair looked wet, his usually wavy hair drooped, water dripping from the strands. She smiled, noticing the way his crooked smile looked when he was his happiest. She began to get flustered noticing the way his arms had a bit of definition to them which (Y/n) could only assume came from all the heavy lifting he did for Professor Sprout in the greenhouse.

“You should join him. Sitting there and wondering what could be isn’t gonna get you anywhere.” (Y/n) gasped a little, whipping her head around quickly to look at her friend whose eyes were still fixated on the book in her hand, flipping the pages delicately.

“H-how did yo-”

“How did I know? You’re so predictable. Plus, you’re a little chatterbox. The only time you shut up is when you look at him.” Hermione giggled, finally peering at her friend over her book. She closed it and set it down on the blanket before taking off her cover up. She held a hand down to her friend. “Well, are you coming?” (Y/n) looked up at her friend, biting the inside of her cheek as she thought about it before nodding, letting Hermione pull her up. She began to take off her own cover up before taking a deep breath. She looked at her friend and they began walking towards the lake.

“I’ve never seen ‘Mione in a swimsuit before. She looks...like a girl.” Ron said to his friends as they watched the two girls near the lake. His friends all responded in some form of agreement. He turned to look at Neville, smirking as he saw him staring at the girls. “It looks like you agree don’t you, Nev?” Neville shook his head, a light blush coating his cheeks. Unknown to his friends he wasn’t looking at Hermione though, he was looking at her. 

“Yeah, she’s quite beautiful.” This didn’t go unnoticed by Ginny though who smirked, deciding to turn things up a notch.

“Hey, why don’t we all play some chicken? There’s enough of us!” Ginny said, beginning to walk over to the guys with Luna not too far behind her. “Unless you guys are scared, you know I’m the chicken champion so I wouldn’t be surprised if you w-”

“Don’t be ridiculous Gin! You know for a fact I’m way better than you, I proved that when you came to my place last summer.” (Y/n) said giggling at her overly confident friend. She tried sneaking a glance at Neville but found she had been caught in the act as Neville was already staring at her. She looked away quickly rubbing the back of her neck. Wait, why was Neville already looking at her?

 She shook herself out of her thoughts as they all began to pair off for chicken. The (h/c) haired girl went to approach one of her friends but found that Ginny and Harry already paired. She quickly tried turning to Hermione who made her way over to Ron. She sent one last pleading glance Luna’s way but the girl simply smiled at her before walking over to Dean. She felt her heart race at what she already suspected to happen. “I-I guess it's us, Nev.” she felt herself growing a bit insecure at having to sit on the boy’s shoulders. Although she was short, she didn’t have as small of a frame as her other friends did. “L-listen Neville, if I’m too heavy or too much for you to lift don’t even worry about it! I have no problem bei-”

With all the courage Neville could muster, he took a deep breath diving under water before rising up with the girl on his shoulder as his large hands gripped at her thighs making sure she was sturdy on his shoulders. She shrieked a bit at the unexpected gesture, gripping at his hair a bit. Holy shit was his heart racing. Had he really just done that? What had gotten into him? ‘Don’t back down, Nev! Say something cool, say something cool!!�� 

He cleared his throat some, before patting her thigh with his hand. “You’re fine. Y-you don’t weigh much of anything.” He said. She felt herself relax some, hoping he couldn’t feel the goosebumps on her thighs. However, Neville’s thoughts were far from the goosebumps. He couldn’t help himself from thinking that they were just as soft as he had imagined them to be. He was in deep and he knew it. “L-l-listen (Y/n), I-”

“Alright who’s going first? Me vs ‘Mione maybe? Come on Harry, move faster!” Ginny said. (Y/n) found herself trying to stifle a giggle at the sight before her. Ginny was tugging at Harry’s hair and yelling at the boy as he argued back. She couldn’t contain herself at the sight, she began to laugh trying to make sure she didn’t fall off Neville’s shoulders at the movement. 

Neville however was so entranced at that sound. He found himself wanting to be the person to cause that melodic giggle to come from her every time. “They’re so cute aren’t they?” she asked as he hummed in agreement. “I’d love to have something like that.” she mumbled to herself, however Neville had heard.

-------------------------------

Ginny was on a win streak, she had beaten Luna and Dean, and Hermione and Ron. She was feeling confident as she banged on her chest cheering which reminded (Y/n) of a muggle movie her aunt once showed her. She had been absentmindedly petting Neville’s hair, running her fingers through it as she swirled it around her fingers. He hadn’t minded though, his face was flushed a bright pink and he was much too scared to say anything, worried that if he did he would end up waking up in his bed and it all would’ve been a dream. He heard his favorite voice pull him out of his thoughts.

“We’re up next Nev, think we’ll win?” she asked as she leaned over, her face appearing in front of his upside down. He jumped a bit, pulling his face back and tightening his grip on her legs.

“C-careful (Y/n!) You might fall if you’re not!” he said, staring into her eyes. God were they beautiful.

“I doubt it, I’ve got you holding me up. I trust ya, you wouldn’t let me fall.” she said giggling as she leaned back up, her lips accidentally brushing against his nose and forehead on the way back up which has caused both of them to freeze up and a silence to fall upon the two. Their eyes both watched as Luna fell off of Dean’s shoulders again as Ginny cheered at another victory.

“But to answer your question, I think we’ve got this in the bag! Let’s do this!” He said as he waded over to them. She smiled at his enthusiasm as they looked over at them. She looked over at Luna who gave her a wink causing her to grow shy once more. 

“Ah a new challenger approaches!” Ron exclaims, his eyes drifting to the pair. Neville glared at Ron a bit when his eyes lingered on the girl above him’s figure for just a tad too long before he cleared his throat.

“We’re gonna kick your ass, Gin! Prepare to get that gorgeous red hair of yours soaked! Isn’t that right, Neville?” She asked looking down at his head as he nodded along. “Consider this a rematch to last summer. I’ve come to snatch my crown right from off your head.” she said placing an invisible crown done on her head laughing as Ginny scoffed at her actions.

“Bring it on (y/h/h)!” She said as Harry began to walk over to her. The two girls both began to approach each other with looks of determination in their eyes. Neville let his eyes wander to the water watching the girl’s actions through the water.

“Beautiful..” he muttered in awe as he gazed upon her affectionately. Although he was nervous, he was even more so nervous of letting her down. He tightened his grip on her plush thighs as a determined expression made its way to his face. 

Ginny and (Y/n) both began pushing and tugging at each other trying to get each other to fall. And (Y/n) did have to admit, it was no easy feat considering how tone Ginny was from quidditch practice and how out of shape she was herself from all those late night cake sessions with the house elves but it didn’t deter her at all. She continued to push and shove at Ginny. If she could only get a better grip...she didn’t have that much time to do so as the redhead girl gave a particularly hard push causing the girl to almost topple over. Almost being the key word. Neville gripped at her a bit harder at her as she went backwards causing her to fling forward with quite a bit of force. Using said force to her advantage, the (y/h/h) girl was able to push Ginny, sending her and Harry falling in. They both cheered Neville spinning around with her as they laughed before he felt something tug his leg sending them both flying into the water.

Neville resurfaced, spluttering a bit as he shook his head a bit. “Sod off, Harry! You’re a sore loser!” He exclaimed laughing with his friend. He turned to his side remembering the (h/c) girl. He watched as she resurfaced and took a gasp of air. His breath hitched as he watched the way she pushed her hair back, chest on display behind her swimsuit. God was she gorgeous.. He shook himself out of his thoughts, pushing some of her hair behind her ear that she had managed to miss. He watched as she looked away from him shyly muttering a soft thank you towards him.

They went at it for a bit more, the girls all determined to at least win one round. At some point, Ginny even put Harry on her shoulders and as it turned out, he was way worse at chicken than she was. Even Luna had somehow managed to beat him. But as they all went on, the group grew hungry and decided as the sun would be setting soon, it’d be a good idea to eat like they originally planned. They all gathered around on the large gingham blanket and once again, her friends turned against her leaving the only spot available for her next to Neville. However, unlike last time she decided to take full advantage of the situation. She feigned a shiver, catching his attention as she hoped. 

“A-are you cold, (Y/n)?” He asked, eyes full of concern.

“Yeah, just a bit Nev!” she smiled back at him, popping another grape into her mouth. Neville looked at her blankly for a bit before deciding to give into his temptation. See, the thing with Neville wasn’t that he was scared. No, in fact he had had his fair share of flings during his time at Hogwarts unbeknownst to his friends. It's just, she was different. He made his heart race in different ways and gave him goosebumps on his arms and back. She made his brain short circuit from the mere sight of her. However, he knew she would not be single forever. He wasn’t oblivious to the lingering looks his friends had been given her throughout the night and he certainly wasn’t going to stay in the same lane as them. So, without a second thought he grabbed her with ease sitting her in his lap, the soft skin of her waist meeting the soft skin of his arms as he pulled her into his chest. (Y/n) felt her breath hitch slightly, as her own set of goosebumps started to form.

“Is that better?” Neville whispered softly to her as his chin came to rest on her shoulder. She turned her head slightly, her lips slightly brushing against his freckled cheek due to their close proximity. Instead of responding, she simply nodded still in a state of shock. Was this really happening? Her (e/c) eyes came to meet Ginny’s who simply smirked, sending her a wink before she went back to her conversation with Harry. None of her friends seemed that shocked at the position they were in. (Y/n) found herself a mix between relieved and offended that no one was surprised.

Although (Y/n) hadn’t noticed anything, the clenched fist and furrowed brows of his own friends did not go unnoticed. He felt himself smile internally, Neville 1 and the others 0. He caressed her skin lightly as if she was made of the finest of porcelain that would break from even a bit of pressure. The Gryffindor boy felt a surge of confidence within himself as goosebumps formed under his fingertips. He was knocked from his thoughts as a ripe strawberry was pressed against his lips, turning his attention to the (h/c) haired girl. He slowly took a bite from it, pink lips wrapped around the red fruit. He hummed constantly as he pulled away. (Y/n) moved back slightly to look at him, giggling at his red stained lips as the juice rolled down his chin a bit.

“Hey, you’ve got a bit of..” she trailed off giggling more as she motioned towards the juice. “One second, I’ll get it for you.” she murmured, reaching for a napkin. Neville pulled her back causing her to give him a confused look.

“No need.” he whispered, pulling her forward, pressing his lips against hers. The kiss was a mix of everything at once. Passion. Hesitance. Desire. And oh, he couldn’t forget his little friend: temptation. He pulled her closer, settling his large hands at the base of her spine right about her rear as hers wrapped around his neck. The girl’s fingers twirled the hair at the bottom of his head trying to distract her from the tingling sensation she felt all over. Neville nibbled at her lip a bit, biting it as he pulled away. “T-this is probably the wrong time to ask but, are you seeing anyone?”

-------------------------

The next week, Neville found himself in that same spot in the hallway that he was in the previous monday. His thoughts drift to the angel known as his vice, his temptation. He watched as her smooth legs made their way down the hall, smile on her face as per usual. However, this time he didn’t have to crave to be the one those eyes were lighting up at. He didn’t have to crave to be the one that oh so beautiful smile was caused by, because he was. He held his arms open with a smile, stumbling back a bit as the (y/h/h) jumped in his arms. He caught her, twirling her around as they both laughed before he placed her on the ground grabbing her hand. Neville placed a peck upon her cheek, nothing but adoration in his eyes. He gulped slightly, sweaty palms as they walked by McGonagall but he found himself relaxing when she sent a wink his way as she gave him a smile of approval.

Although temptation had originally showed itself on his doorstep as a visitor in his home, it eventually developed into something more and became a welcome resident in his home. Temptation was no longer temptation, it was love.

[multi-fxndom446]

Secret love

Diavolo X Reader

I’m weak for Diavolo this man just wants to be included and loved😭

Also this story made sense in my head so I really fucking hope it still makes sense written down and I hope you enjoy it!!

(Lmao also I had to add a lil Mammon angst to hurt myself thank you)

Warning: angst a lil

~~

When you were first summoned to Devildom as an exchange student, you never expected a demon to fall in love with you. Let alone seven.

What’s more, you didn’t expect to fall in love with the one demon you couldn’t have. The soon to be king himself.

~~

We keep behind closed doors

Every time I see you, I die a little more

Stolen moments that we steal as the curtains fall

It’ll never be enough

When you first came to devildom your first priority wasn’t exactly love. More of trying to stay alive amidst the rage the seven brothers had as they all at one point or another tried to kill you. Hell one succeeded.

But now as you got more into the year, you found yourself being the center of attention to all of the brothers. It wasn’t as if you tried to make them fall for you, it just kind of happened.

Though now it’s not playing well in your favor. Many times you’d find yourself in the middle of a sibling fight over who you loved more and each and everytime they got the same answer. “I love all of you equally.”

Which wasn’t a lie. You did love all of them, but you weren’t in love with any of them. Not like you were with him. Diavolo.

The one demon you couldn’t have out of the whole devildom was the one you fell for. And he fell for you as well. Which is why this hurt the most.

You, along with the brothers, were at Diavolos castle, per his request. He said he wanted to have dinner with all of them so he could discuss with them the plans of a party he would be holding.

As always the dinner was chaotic, Levi accidentally exposing Mammon for stealing, Lucifer getting mad at Mammon, Beel eating almost everything on the table and so on.

You watched from your place beside Diavolo as you didn’t even try to simmer down the fight. That had only gotten you in trouble on more occasions then one.

When you were about to say something, you were stopped short. Your head snapped to Diavolo who smiled softly at you, his hand entangling with yours under the table and out of site from prying eyes.

Your surprise died down immediately and was replaced with a certain sadness that such a gesture had to be hidden. Sensing your mood change he squeezed your hand gently and you both went back to eating.

As you drive me to my house

I can’t stop these silent tears from rolling down

You and I both have to hide on the outside

Where I can’t be yours and you can’t be mine

But I know this

We got a love that is hopeless

On many occasions after a dinner or a party, Diavolo would request you stay behind to discuss how you were managing in the Devildom. And yet those conversations always last a few hours and none of the brothers questioned it.

He would always escort you back on the nights he held you back and your silence always gave away how you were feeling, he could read you like a book and you sometimes wondered when you became so transparent to him.

Tonight he insisted on walking so he could have more time with you, a decision that he was regretting now. He felt your fingers brush against his and you did as well because the next moment you pulled your hand away and it about broke his heart.

He knew you were doing it for him and he hated it with his very being. Why couldn’t you be the one he married one day? Why did the rules for a future king have to be so strict?

Finally you started up the path leading to the house of Lamentation but instead of a quick goodbye, you both stood just outside the front door. You were facing him now but your gaze was at the ground, you didn’t want to make him feel bad about the way your eyes glossed over.

He watched you for a moment before he reached his hand out to softly take a strand of your hair between his fingers. “Beautiful.” He whispered, causing you to finally look him in eyes.

“Why can’t I hold you in the street?” He seemed to be talking to himself, almost like he was saying his thoughts out loud. “Why can’t I kiss you on the dance floor? I wish that it could be like that.”

You eagerly took his hand into yours, letting your hair slip through his fingers. “Why can’t it be like that? Cause I’m yours. Please Diavolo.” He could feel his resolve breaking.

Why can’t I say that I’m in love?

I wanna shout it from the roof tops

I wish that it could be like that

Why can’t it be like that?

He was so close to you now, only about a step away. He was reaching out to you again when suddenly he remembered where he was.

He pulled back just as the front door opened and Mammon came into view. “Oi! Y/n we thought you would’ve been back by now!” He pouted and you laughed to ease his nerves but Diavolo could see the disappointment as soon as your laughing stopped.

“I was just leaving.” Mammon almost jumped at the sound of Diavolos voice, having not noticed him until he spoke up.

“L-lord Diavolo, sorry I didn’t see you.” Mammon sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, scared he was gonna get chewed out again but was once again shocked when all he did was kiss your hand and leave.

You held your hand close to you as you watched him go. You knew kissing your hand was just a formality to others around you but to the both of you it held a much more sincere meaning.

As Mammon ushered you inside you finally turned away from Diavolo but now he was the one looking back at you, clenching his fists in jealousy when he saw Mammon’s arm wrap protectively around your waist. And then the front door closed and you were out of reach.

It’s obvious you’re meant for me

Every piece of you just fits perfectly

Every second, every thought I’m in so deep

But I’ll never show it on my face

Diavolo watched you from across the room as you talked away with the brothers. Some demon next to him trying to converse with him about a problem that Diavolo already was in the process of fixing.

He felt his chest warm at your smile and his heart flutter when he heard you laugh. Even from across a massive room filled with guests, he would always be able to hear your laugh.

From the corner of his eye he could see Solomon on his way towards you, he assumed to ask you for a dance like he had done many times. But the fluttering in his chest suddenly turned into a squeezing feeling and he felt his heart ache when he saw the slight blush on your face from whatever the wizard had said to you.

So before Solomon could steal you away for the night, Diavolo politely excused himself to go to you, letting Barbatos pick up the conversation where it left off.

You were just about to take Solomons hand when you both heard someone else approaching and you turned to see the prince with a smile that had a threatening undertone to it.

“Sorry to barge in but could I steal Y/n for a dance first?” Solomon didn’t get a chance to answer because Diavolo took your hand and led you to the dance floor before he could even get a word out.

You could’ve laughed if it wasn’t for the sudden nerves you were feeling being so close to him. It wasn’t like you haven’t been this close before but he always stopped himself before he could finally cross that boundary.

He felt chills go up his spine when you positioned your arm to rest on his shoulders and his around your waist while he still held your other hand in his free one. Oh how perfect your hand felt in his.

But we know this

We got a love that is hopeless

The dance was silent between you two. He didn’t know what to say, only now realizing this was probably a rash decision on his part.

You seemed to notice the new found lack of uncertainty as you looked up at him. “Do you regret this?” You asked him and something told him you weren’t asking about the dance.

“Regret what?” He still needed to hear you say it.

Your voice cracked a little as you responded, “falling in love.” Tears lined your eyelid and his hold on you tightened a little, “meeting me?”

“My darling I could never regret meeting you.” He was quick to say and he so badly wanted to pull you closer but he stopped himself. You could feel the way his muscles tensed in his shoulders as he held back. “Please don’t cry.” He Almost whispered out.

You nodded and looked up at the ceiling to try and stop them because you seemed to think he was more worried about others seeing the human exchange student cry while dancing with the prince when in reality it was tearing him up to see those tears.

“Y/n?” He called to you softly and you looked back to him. The tears you had been trying to get rid of only came back as you stared at his soft eyes, the way they looked at you with so much concern and love had you wanting to kiss him.

“Why can’t you hold me in the street?” You asked the question he had asked himself the day before, “why can’t I kiss you on the dance floor?”

Wish we could be like that

Why can’t we be like that?

Cause I’m yours

His words died out on his tongue and in the next moment the song finally ended and you pulled away from him. “Y/n wait-“

But your hand slipped from his and he suddenly felt like the world was caving in on him. He watched you walk away from him, trying to discreetly wipe away your tears as you approached Mammon who immediately dropped what he was doing to turn to you.

Why can’t I say that I’m in love

I wanna shout it from the rooftops

“Y/n?” His voice was laced with concern upon seeing your tears. “What happened? Are you okay?”

His questions only made you want to cry more and you did. You walked up to him and buried your face in his chest as you let out as quiet sobs as you could. Mammon wrapped his arms around your shoulders, looking around the room for the reason you could be crying and he seemed to find it when his eyes connected to Diavolo who in the next minute turned away.

“You wanna go get some food? Come on let’s get out of here.” He lead you out of the castle and towards all the restaurants but didn’t actually go in any of them.

When he was far enough from the castle he turned to you. You were still trying to calm yourself down and he didn’t know if he should bring up what he thought was wrong. “Y/n please explain it to me, I’ll understand.”

“No no you won’t!” You cried before he said your name again, this time stern enough to get you to look at him and calm enough to calm you down. Your whole body went still at the understanding in his eyes. “I-I love him Mammon.”

Even when he could feel his own heart break at the confession he could feel it break even more knowing your heart was in complete shambles. “And he loves you?” You could only nod, “and you can’t be together because he’s a future king?” You nodded again. “Well screw those rules. If you love each other what’s the difference?”

“It’s not my choice to decide, it’s-“

“-his” he finished for you and you nodded. When he could see the tears start to come back he wrapped his arms around you and brought you into a hug, kissing the top of your head.

I wish that it could be like that

Why can’t it be like that

Cause I’m yours

Back at the Castle Diavolo was making his way towards Barbatos, who held a knowing look in his eyes. “I need to get air I’ll be back.”

“Shall I send Lucifer for you?”

“No” Diavolo was frustrated but he knew he couldn’t take it out on anyone else but himself. “Just let me be for a moment. I just-I just need to think for a moment.”

Instead of waiting for a reply he left. He made his way through the long hallways of his castle before ending up at a balcony. Not just any balcony. It was the balcony he realized he was in love with you.

You were leaned against the railing, admiring Devildom and he could see the sparkle in your eyes before you turned to him. He expected the sparkle to die out when your focus was on him but instead it only intensified.

He took in a deep breathe trying to gather all his thoughts when he heard footsteps approaching. He should have known Barbatos would still send Lucifer anyways. “I told Barbatos I want to be alone.”

“Barbatos didn’t send me.” Diavolo only glanced at him, “I saw you storm away after y/n left.”

I don’t wanna live love this way

I don’t want to hide us away

“So,” Lucifer went to stand next to him. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”

“With all due respect Lucifer, I really don’t. Not this time.” Never in his life had Lucifer heard Diavolo sound so disappointed, so..sad.

“It’s about y/n isn’t it?” If Diavolo wasn’t going to tell him, he would pry it out of him. “Did you upset her?”

Diavolo stayed silent for a moment, “yes.”

“Why?”

“Are you my therapist now Lucifer?” Diavolo snapped which allowed Lucifer to know he was hitting a sore subject.

“No. I’m your friend.” It was silent as Diavolo took in his words. He knew he was right and he knew he had to tell someone.

“I’ve upset her because I love her.” Lucifers gaze softened, “and it’s breaking her heart that we can’t be together the why we want.”

“Why because you’re the prince?”

“And because it would be frowned upon for the Demon king to have a human as a queen.” Diavolos sentence trailed off as he looked over the city lights.

“Who would care?”

“Lucifer-“

“No I’m serious. Who would care? The lower ranking demons? Diavolo you’re one of the most powerful demons I know, they wouldn’t even be in the question.” Lucifer stared at his friend who seemed to find solace with staring at his fingers. “If you wished for a simple human to be your Queen then you could have it. So what’s your real reason?”

He was silent. “The elders wouldn’t like it.”

“Screw the elders!”

“Lucifer!” Diavolo turned to him with shock written all over his face. He had never heard Lucifer be so disrespectful.

“Excuse my language but since when have you cared about what the elders think? You certainly didn’t when you made this whole exchange thing happen to begin with!” Diavolo turned away from him again. “If this is about my love for her as well as my brothers love for her, I assure you we only wish for her happiness. In this life and in the next that is all we will continue to wish for. So if her happiness is with you then we will bare it.”

Diavolos eyes widened in shock. It was almost like a weight was lifted off his shoulders hearing Lucifers words. As if to tell him it’s okay he fell in love with you and that they’d be okay if you loved him back. “Now it seems ive gotten through to you. Don’t you have someone you need to find?”

Diavolo turned to him, intending to tell him thank you but as he looked at him the words suddenly didn’t seem like enough. “It’s okay Diavolo. I know.” Lucifer finally said after seeing his friend struggle. “Now go.”

I wonder if it ever will change

I’m living for that day

Some day

You were still in Mammon’s embrace when Diavolo found you. Mammon was the first to see him and he gave him a pointed look.

“Y/n.” Your eyes snapped open when you heard his voice. You slowly pulled away from Mammon who was reluctant to let you go. You seemed to sense his uncertainty so you turned to him, to see if he’d be okay.

When he saw the hope in your eyes, the same hope he had when he looked at you, he knew he had to let you go. And so he did. He watched you walk to the prince and he turned and walked away so he wouldn’t have to hear what was about to be said.

When you hold me in the street

And you kiss me on the dance floor

I wish that we could be like that

Why can’t we be like that?

Cause I’m yours.

“I dont want to hide us.” He said to you, his body tingling with nerves as he watched you. You stood still unsure if what you were hearing was real so he took a step closer. “I fell for you.” He took another step, “I fell for your smile,” another, “your laugh” he was a few more steps from being right in front of you “your personality, everything about you.” He took those final steps to be right in front of you.

You seemed to hold your breathe. “Is this real?” You asked him, terrified he’d disappear.

He chuckled before grabbing your face in his hands, his thumb running across your bottom lip as he leaned down just a breathe away and before his lips touched yours he whispered a small yes.

Im yours

You completely melted into him, clutching onto his arms as your legs became weak from nerves. Without missing a beat one of his arms came to wrap around your waist to hold you up and to pull you impossibly closer to him.

His lips were as soft as you thought they’d be and mixed with the sharp canines he had in his demon form you were ready to succumb to him then and there.

When you finally pulled away from each other you were smiling. Neither of you wanted to step away from the other so instead you brought him back to you for another kiss. He’d die happy if your kisses are what killed him.

“Please can we not hide this anymore? I don’t care what anyone says I just want you. It’s always been you.” He whispered softly after you pulled away for a second time.

Your smile was the brightest he had seen in a long time, “I thought you’d never ask.”

~~

[butwhyduh]

Grotesque

Jason todd x reader

Warning: death mentioned

Summary: Jason takes a life after many years of avoiding it. Connected to the fic Sickening but you don’t have to read one with the other.

The front door opened for earlier than you thought it should. You were still awake reading a book. You sat up quickly only to relax. It was Jason.

But you didn’t relax for long as he closed the door and fell to his knees. You jumped to your feet and walked over to him. He tossed his helmet on the table by the door without looking. He was staring at the ground. His eyes and nose looked red. Was he crying?

“Jason, Jaybird? What’s going on?” You asked kneeling in front of him. He closed his eyes. You scanned over his body but didn’t notice any injury. That worried you even more.

“Jay,” you said touching his shoulder. He jumped a little but relaxed against your touch. “Are you hurt?”

He shook his head no. Whatever happened had him non verbal at best. You held him by both shoulders. Your fingers lightly squeezed him once. Jason gulped.

“Let’s get you changed,” you said and he nodded. You pulled him to stand and he stood with his head down and shoulders pulled in and it made him look smaller and younger. Once in the bathroom, Jason pulled his jacket and shirt off and tossed them in the hamper. He shoved the rest of his clothes off numbly as you started a shower. He showered with the door half open.

Jason changed into sweatpants. You stood in front of him and brushed his hair. Jason breath was unsteady and quick. His eyes looked dull. What worried you the most was that you couldn’t see any fresh bruises or cuts. He didn’t look injured at all. What the hell happened that had him like this?

“Lay with me?” You asked and he nodded quickly before grabbing you. His arms wrapped around your waist and he buried his head in your neck. His breath came out shaky like he wanted to cry. You held him close. It was killing you to see him like this. You pulled him in bed and laid down on your back. His head was on your chest and his body weight was on the bed between your legs as you held him. His arms were tightened to almost the point of pain.

You ran your hands through his hair and his breathing slowly started evening out. His grip slowly loosened. It was a full hour before he spoke.

“I killed. I killed someone,” he said with a dullness that barely held emotions back. You looked down at him with concern.

“It was suppose to be a drug trafficker. It was kids. Fucking kids,” Jason said and you inhaled quickly.

“There was so many kids. Half dead,” he said and there was a sound between a growl and whine in his voice. You didn’t know if all the kids looked half dead or if half of them were actually dead but you couldn’t bear to ask.

“And when this asshole came in the room of them and laughed...I shot him. Right between the fucking eyes,” Jason continued. You closed your eyes at the image. “He was laughing at fucking dead kids.”

“Oh god,” you said softly. You held Jason close protectively. He’d worked so hard to not be a killer. Jason felt so guilty about it now. This had to be killing him inside.

“Then Bruce. Fucking Bruce, tried to hit me. Damian stopped him. The kid stopped him because he thought the guy deserved it. It was that bad. It was awful. I’ll never unsee... never,” Jason said and his heart rate started going faster. He gripped tighter at your shirt.

“I’m so sorry,” you said and you cupped his chin to give his forehead a kiss. Jason quickly moved his head up to capture your lips. His kiss was insistent and rushed. His tongue roughly ran against yours. It was as if he was trying to reach for peace in you.

Jason quickly slid his hands under your shirt and kissed down your jaw. You gasped at the suddenness of it. As much as you wanted him, you had to stop him. Jason wasn’t in a good place for sex. He was hurting.

“Baby, baby,” you said breathlessly. You gently pushed him off of you by the chest. Jason looked at you in pain. “Not right now. Wait. Just wait until tomorrow. Okay?”

Jason gulped and nodded. He climbed off of you and laid on the bed without touching you. Rare for him. He liked to feel you were there and safe when he slept.

“Hold me?” You asked. “Can I hold you?”

He looked at you with a tightened jaw. His eyes were swimming with pain. Even his damp curls looked deflated.

“Yeah,” Jason said turning you facing away from him and pulled you close to his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and his leg too. You laid your head on one arm and he had it bent at the elbow making a kind of cage around you. Like headlock but protective. His breath was rough but gradually started to slow. You ran your fingers along his arm and hands and you hummed a song. Jason nuzzled into your hair and breathed the scent of your shampoo in.

It was a long time before either of you fell asleep that night. His sleep was also fitful and he gasped awake at one point. He didn’t go on patrol for a week. But the nightmares? They were for months. It was a long time before you forgave Bruce for trying to hit Jason right after that. Fuck Batman.

[anerdinallherglory]

Approaching Sun (31)

Author’s Note: Surprise readers! I wanted to celebrate the start of Spring Break (a very much needed break) by posting an update sooner than I expected. Also, it’s double the length, too. It’s practically two chapters in one!

Thank you always to my loyal readers. If I do not get back to you, please know that I see every review, every comment, and every mention. I am grateful for all of you!

Also, I have had a few readers tell me of songs they associate with A.S. and I just think that is so cool, because I too, connect music to books and fanfics that I read. I’d like to make a list of all my readers’ songs that they think fit A.S. and share them on my next update as the “soundtrack” for this story. Please let me know yours in the comments or through message.

Pairing: SasuSaku

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

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Chapter 31: Not Enough

Sakura spun the sword, adjusting it on her left forearm as she pivoted on her heel to bring it around her in another protective arc. The blackness that hovered before her again instantly shielded her enemies from view which could be considered both advantageous and disadvantageous for her.

For the first, Mako and Hisa immediately rushed forward, using the ninjutsu as a cloak. They crisscrossed her, one taking a swipe at her from the front right and the other coming from the left. When Hisa’s blade came from the right, Sakura’s first instinct was to dodge and strike her foe in the side with her fists as she passed. But with her chakra currently restricted, Sakura ducked, pushed up on the handle of her assault weapon with her forearm, and brought her own blade naturally to Hisa’s right flank as she redirected the attack. Sakura hissed in disappointment because the cut was interrupted when she retreated and the result was shallow, not slicing deep enough to incapacitate her. When Hisa took a step back, clutching her flank, Mako suddenly appeared like a breaching shark from the deep only inches before Sakura’s face. He kicked her, quite hard, and Sakura fell into the sand, her weapon tossed aside from the blow. She scrambled for it as Mako grabbed hold of her ankle. She kicked free of his hold, but he was upon he, knees straddling her, and Sakura had no choice but to turn and face him.

He cuffed her hands above her head, saying quietly, “Don’t make this difficult! You will lose your life if you continue to resist. They’ll kill you. Stop struggling!”

Sakura cursed herself for drinking that damn tea, because if she had chakra, she would headbutt his face so far back into his skull that the impact would instantly kill him. Hisa’s face suddenly appeared above Mako’s rights shoulder.

“Killing her is the only option. We don’t have time to hold her hostage,” she chastised Mako with venom in her voice. “We have to get back to base quickly with the news of her death.”

“We could use her. She’s too important to kill immediately.” Came Mako’s response as he sat down hard against her bucking legs.  

“We don’t have time for this! The drug effects won’t last on her all the way back to Tanigakure!”

Perfect, Sakura thought. The confirmation she had been looking for. They were in fact the same party of ninja who had attacked her and Sasuke on their journey to Suna. Sakura still wasn’t entirely sure just how many belonged to their group.

“Reach in my pocket for the second dose. We will knock her back out if we have to!” came Mako’s reply, but it was too late. Sakura had been calling, calling, calling her chakra to her wrists this entire time and used that small amount of sudden strength to overpower Mako’s hold, swinging her arms quickly back down to her sides which caused Mako’s own arms to follow. His head hit the ground to the left of her neck and Sakura immediately rolled him, bestriding him the same way he had just held her.

Hisa didn’t hesitate a second as her weapon came swiping horizontally across Sakura’s back. Sakura predicted this and used Mako’s struggling momentum to once again roll him back on top of her. The blade bit into the flesh of his back and he screamed. In the same moment, Sakura used the last of her strength to wedge her knees between herself and Mako’s chest, shoving him out and back toward a surprised Hisa. They both fell tangled back into the shadowy mist, hitting sand somewhere out of sight.

Within seconds, Sakura scrambled toward the lost weapon and the sword she had dropped was within Sakura’s reach. But when she fisted the pommel, a foot stepped down on the blade. The black mist cleared to reveal the eyeless depths of the shadow demon above her.

“Enough of this,” he hissed. Shadows leaked from his eyes, down his face, and crawled down his chest, legs, and over the length of the weapon, icing Sakura’s fingers when they touched the handle. Sakura immediately recoiled in pain as her fingers turned a sickening black. She screamed, backing away from his advancing figure, hand tucked protectively in the crook between her arm and side.

Rage more than fear boiled beneath Sakura’s skin. What sick ninjutsu was this? It reminded her of a combination between Zabuza’s Hidden Mist technique and Shikamaru’s Shadow Control. But the damage was entirely unexpectedt, as if the shadows inside his body were made of a poisonous substance that bleached out the life of whatever it touched. This phantom before her controlled darkness directly, thickening what already existed in the air around them, and then leaking black chakra directly from his body which destroyed whatever came in contact with it. Like the shadows of death itself, Sakura was certain it had stollen all life from her immovable hand.

Sakura cursed and bolted to the left, seeking out the jagged rocks that she had created earlier. She had to test a theory. Sakura slowed as she clutched her hand, listening, keeping an eye on her feet at all times in fear of creeping black, knowing the phantom would pursue.

When his steps came closer, Sakura turned and faced him. A chakra-manipulated path cleared the darkness between them, allowing the two ninja to see each other in the surrounding haze. This confirmed one thing for Sakura: no one, including the ninja user himself, could see through the darkness he created. That was good to know.

Just one more thing then. She waited and the shade sneered as he approached. When he came withing a few feet away, shadows reached for her like grasping fingers. Just as she had seen Temari do all those years ago during the Chunin exams, Sakura backed away until the shadows stopped and retreated back into the skull of the demon who had projected them. She drew a line in the sand, confirming the distance of ten feet between them.

Ha. She thought to herself. Just like Shikamaru’s justsu then. Similarly, it had a limited reach, although it was much shorter than Shikamaru’s range and didn’t seem to be able to use the shadows in the air around it to lengthen or widen. It explained the purpose of the shadows in the air though; the phantom ninja needed to be in close range where individuals couldn’t see the approaching black tentacles of death.

Sakura scoffed. Apparently, this ninja couldn’t measure up to Shikamaru’s intelligence either, considering the fact that she had just figured out how his ninjutsu worked.

There was only one problem, though. Sakura was a close-combat shinobi as well, and her number one battle technique was her chakra enhanced strength. She needed a plan that would allow her to take a different approach.

She ran and her attacker pursued her, thickening the air before her but leaving the trail behind her completely clear.

Suddenly, Mako’s words from earlier came back to her, which gave Sakura an idea. It was the only thing Sakura could think of. She doubled back to where Mako and Hisa had been disposed. She followed the blood in the sand to the precipice of a jagged chunk of earth. When she came upon Mako, Sakura noted that Hisa was already gone, having abandoned him immediately. Hisa was probably blindly searching for Sakura among the shadow-cloaked mountains of ground and sand.

Sakura didn’t have much time. She placed her hand over Mako’s mouth so he wouldn’t scream and give away their location; not that it would do much good. If the phantom had room for a brain somewhere next to that pit of darkness in his skull, he would follow the blood as she had, or trace her tracks in the sand.

Mako, laying on his bloody back in the sand, shot his eyes open when Sakura’s hand pressed down hard on his mouth with her black hand. It was barely more than a useless appendage at this point, but with the help of her good hand, Sakura shoved her fingers in his mouth to silence him. He tried biting them, tearing into her blackened flesh. But Sakura couldn’t feel them at all, the deadening so complete that Sakura was afraid she would never regain use of it again.

With her free hand, Sakura searched Mako’s person. Her hand fisted triumphantly in his back pocket around something long and cylindrical. She pulled it free, praying frantically that it was what she theorized it to be. Bless you for being thorough and for telling me you had it, she thought to Mako as she surveyed the capped yellow injection tube. Whether it was Ashuwa or a second dose of whatever he had put in her tea, Sakura didn’t know. But whatever it was, Mako had revealed its purpose to Hisa which was to incapacitate her again once the current drug in her system stopped working.

Mako squirmed beneath her and Sakura contemplated killing him right then and there. But she just didn’t have time. Lucky bastard. She sprinted from him, the phantom stepping over the boulder in the same moment she darted from the concealed spot.

Did he see what she grabbed? Sakura wasn’t confident but couldn’t stop to try to interpret the eye-less facial expression the ninja wore. Remaining hopeful, she kept running.

Spotting a smaller set of tracks in the sand leaving the location, Sakura followed them, tracing them all the way to their source. When Sakura came upon Hisa, she almost collided with her directly, the blackened air only revealing her in the last second. Hisa didn’t even have a chance to react before Sakura uncapped the needle and dispensed a third of the dose into her neck, enough for her weight. The woman dropped to the ground and Sakura thanked Mako again for designing the perfect drug. Sakura didn’t estimate that she would remain unconscious for long, though, not having the full dose.

Sakura moved quickly. There was only a matter of minutes before the phantom caught up to her once again. Sakura quickly removed the cloak from Hisa’s shoulders and wrapped Hisa’s face covering around her own. She picked up Hisa’s small rapier from the ground.

She turned and walked toward the approaching footsteps, using the black at her back to her advantage this time, thankful for once that it would conceal Hisa’s body completely.

When she came into his view, the ninja balked, taken aback at her familiar presence. “Hisa?” came the hissing whisper. Sakura kept her head down long enough. Long enough to come parallel with him and turn the blade to relieve him of his head.  

He ducked as Sakura knew he would. Dropping the shortsword, she came back toward his face with the hidden syringe in the same hand. Like with Hisa, she caught him in the neck with the needle neck, and his black sockets widened as she fully pressed in the plunger.

Deathly black shot out of his eye sockets, gripping her remaining hand with blackness as it traveled up her arm. She cried out in both pain and fury as the medicine injected into the demon’s skin. He screamed and she pulled away as he dropped to his knees.

His consciousness remained momentarily, and Sakura turned, arms limp and useless from damage like Orochimaru’s had been. Turning, Sakura found the sword she had dropped. Bending down, she gripped it between her teeth, the taste of metal and sand coating her tongue. It tasted so, so sweet in that second.

Like another mist demon she remembered, Zabuza Momochi, Sakura wielded the blade between her teeth and pivoted to face this monster who was solely responsible for torturing Isao, spreading hatred and pain, and most of all, underestimating her.

Sakura would never be weak enough that anyone without substance, anyone who couldn’t consider themselves subpar to a legendary Sanin, could dispose of her easily. She didn’t need abilities. She didn’t even need chakra to make it out triumphant in these futile attempts on her life.

“You will regret your choices,” the phantom hissed disorientated. “The next generation won’t be able to handle what is coming.”

Sakura began to advance toward him, ready to mimic Zabuza’s killing blows with a fang-wielded blade. When she reached him, she glared down at him, bloodlust in her veins.

“War is a good thing. Anger is a tool to be used. Vengeance is necessary to strengthen.”

Sakura gripped onto her own blood-bent mind, talking to herself as she looked at this man…beast…whatever he was. And as she had done with Satou, Sakura now too, thought of Sasuke. A person so wrapped in darkness that the darkness presented itself in his very nature.

“You, like everyone else, deserve mercy,” Sakura announced after she dropped the sword from her mouth. Sakura had once blamed herself for being too weak to kill Sasuke, but in this moment, Sakura had an enlightening clarification. When someone so vile deserves death and you can find it in yourself to drop your too-ready hand of justice and offer them a second chance—that is real strength. It’s what Naruto would have done. It’s what Sakura chose to do now.

The man slumped forward, eyes level with the blade that stuck up from the sand. “You will see one day that I am right,” he hissed in finality.

“You have us confused with one another,” she announced to the fading darkness that began to disintegrate into light, the final sign signaling his unconsciousness. Sakura could just make out the sunrise in the east and it was beautiful, pale, and rosy. Sakura pretended it was her victory banner. She also believed it was a sign of hope.  

………………………………….

The second chakra pill worked another miracle. Sasuke felt replenished as he practically flew across the sand path in Isao’s memory. He had only run this fast a few times in his life and most recently, it was because of this same scenario. Kido, too, had kidnapped Sakura, and when Sasuke had found out, he had run.

Sasuke cursed himself now for his stupidity. His pride. His mission. He had left in anger and confusion after their kiss, left her alone in Suna despite his promise to never let this sort of thing happen again. Each step he took into the sand was echoed in his mind with an apology. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. He lost count of how many times he said it.

Chakra coursed through his limbs and Sasuke mentally prepared himself for war. Bones enveloped his body, ribs caging around him as he activated an incomplete Susanoo. Purple chakra radiated from him, a threatening beacon to the kidnappers he knew would be nearby.

Sasuke instantly recognized the projections of broken ground that penetrated up from the sand like a golden crown. Unlike in Isao’s shadowy memories, the morning light illuminated each pillar, revealing the sheer length and size of every new peak that Sakura had brought forth with her inhuman strength.  Sasuke didn’t even think of concealing his presence; he didn’t need to. He charged into the center of the fray, looking about him everywhere.

He looked behind a few of the crags, eyes finally landing on an individual. Bloody, but not unconscious, Mako lay with his face projected to the sky. His eyes shot open when Sasuke placed a heavy foot on his chest. He wanted to light him up with his Amaterasu and let the flames devour him alive until the ninja was nothing more than the sand beneath him.

Mako groaned and Sasuke unsheathed his katana, stabbing into this ninja’s shoulder. Although he didn’t need to pin him to the ground, it felt good to watch Mako clutch at the blade near his collar bone. The medic ninja was still alive despite his blood loss, but Sasuke relished in the thought that he wouldn’t be for long. Gaara might be mad at him for this later, but Sasuke didn’t care.

“Where is she?” The Uchiha hissed as he sent electricity down the length of his blade into Mako’s chest muscles. He began to spasm.

“Stop!” Mako screamed in pain.

“It will stop when you answer!” he yelled back, losing control of his own emotions. He twisted the metal for emphasis.

“Sasuke, stop!” came a familiar voice and Sasuke’s dropped the blade in shock as Sakura threw her shoulder into him.

“I don’t have enough chakra to spare to heal any more wounds,” she reprimanded him as if she were talking to a patient.

Sasuke blinked in chastisement at the pink-haired woman standing whole before him. He instantly pulled her into his Susanoo, crushing her to his side as he extended the ribcage of the Susanoo to include her. He looked around warily as if he couldn’t quite believe there was no current threat to Sakura’s person. He finally spoke, both relief and annoyance edging his words. “You’re okay?! Where are the others?!”

“I’m fine!” she announced, face suddenly red in embarrassment at their close proximity. Sasuke didn’t notice it at first as he held her back at arm’s length to check her current state. His stomach dropped when he saw her dangling arms, blackened, charred, and bruised. One of them currently had a small halo of green around it and its color paled in comparison to the other.

“Who did this to you?” he rumbled lowly, flashing a red and purple glare back down at Mako, who whimpered pathetically from his wounds. Sakura pulled from his hand and moved in front of the Uchiha, cutting off his direction of blame.

“Not him,” she excused, and her defense thoroughly pissed Sasuke off. Whatever Mako’s role was in this, Sasuke was certain that he was to blame for all of it.

Sasuke did his best to swallow his murdering thirst, eyes landing back on her like a lifeline to his sanity. “Tell me what happened,” he ordered. It was the only words that he could force past his teeth.

“I will explain everything to you, but I need your help first.” She made to step away from him, but Sasuke prevented it. Careful not to aggravate her injuries by touching her arm, Sasuke grabbed her shirt on reflex instead, pulling her back into the safety of the Susanoo.

“It’s okay. We are safe.” she breathed, smiling at him for the first time since he had left her, which brought Sasuke back some soothing clarity of mind. “They are all incapacitated.”

Sasuke’s eyebrow shot up into his bangs. “All of them?”

“It’s insulting that you are surprised,” she nudged him with her shoulder, turning her shoulders to face Mako. She bent to medically assess his new stab wound.

“I wasn’t expecting,” he admitted, but then fell into silence at her targeted look. “I mean, I thought that you were drugged!”

“I am,” she announced, narrowing her eyes further. “But I don’t know how you know that.”

Sasuke cursed at his slip. He couldn’t tell her just yet about how he practically forced Isao to spill all the information earlier. Instead, he said half-truthfully, “I ran into the kid.”

“Isao?” Sakura’s face lit up. “He’s okay? He made it back?” She slumped into the sand at Mako’s side. She practically deflated as her concern for the boy evaporated. “Bless that child.”

Sasuke had to agree. If it weren’t for him, Sasuke wouldn’t have been able to find his teammate this quickly. Even though Sakura hadn’t really needed his help after all. How strange that felt for Sasuke, to not be needed in the ways that he had once been. It was an unexpected jolt to his mindset toward Sakura. She had proved her strength repeatedly to him and he continued to see her as someone to protect.

Before he could even offer an apology, Sakura motioned toward Mako’s body. “My arms are a little preoccupied at the moment. Do you mind flipping him?”

Sasuke’s thoughts instantly darkened at the mention of both her arms and Mako. “What for?”

“I need to look at his back. See how deep the wound is.”

“He doesn’t deserve your help,” he replied instantly, wishing for the ninja to suffer in the same ways he had made his friend.

“I remember a time when you didn’t either,” Sakura replied with a smiling voice, “but I helped you back then, too. Now flip him.”

Sasuke scoffed at her statement, stooped, and flipped the ninja on his stomach. Mako let out a pained groan and Sakura “tsked” at his blatant carelessness. He kneeled beside her, ready to be her hands despite how much he hated the thought of her trying to help him.

“It’s not as deep as I thought. Hold his flesh together,” she ordered and Sasuke did so as she summoned a small stream of chakra to the gray fingertips of her semi-healed hand. The small amount did not last long, but it was enough. Just enough to stop the bleeding.

“Why are you helping me?” Mako asked faintly into the sand, and Sasuke immediately responded for her.

“You don’t need to know, so just shut your mouth so I don’t have to hear your voice.”

Sakura nudged him for his harsh words. “You sure have a lot to say today.” And Sasuke blinked at her again in surprise. She was right; he was talking a lot…for him. He responded with another scoff.

Sakura answered Mako’s question despite Sasuke’s threat. “You believe in war. I believe in peace. We are stronger united than when we are divided. This is how I create peace.”

Sasuke wasn’t following entirely, but he knew that Sakura was referencing words that had been exchanged between them, and Sasuke recognized them as the poison from a mindset consumed in darkness.

Standing again, Sakura said, “The hard part is going to be getting them all back to Sunagakure.”

“What do you mean?” Sasuke asked.

“They’re drugged. Not all of them are dead. They’ll wake soon,” she clarified for him.

Sasuke didn’t even think before saying, “I can remedy that.”

She ignored him, continuing, “We might have to make a couple trips. How many can you carry?”

Sasuke didn’t even respond to that ridiculous notion. Instead, he activated his Rinnegan once more, feeding it with the chakra from the chakra pill. A spiral appeared before them, revealing the central red-dune dimension. Sakura didn’t even have time to protest before Sasuke was throwing Mako’s limp body inside the hole.

“What are you doing?” Sakura asked, confused and stunned by his actions.

“They can remain in this dimension until we make it back to Suna. They can’t flee inside. They have nowhere to go.”

Sakura nodded in understanding. “Good idea!” she praised him, obviously relieved she wasn’t going to have to try to carry anyone with her arms practically useless.

“I’ll take you to the others.”

A female kunoichi Sakura called Hisa was the second to be transported to Kaguya’s center dimension. Then a different sort of being Sasuke considered warily. He didn’t look to be human. Sakura explained that he had been the most dangerous of them all. Sakura believed him to be the ringleader, though she wasn’t sure how many group members he truly led. It was still a confusing web of connections.

Sakura left out the fact that this ninja must be the one to have damaged her arms, but no good would come from Sasuke demanding that she confirm that for him. The Uchiha made a mental note of it as he tossed the unconscious ninja inside, already contemplating on ways to make him talk.

“Is that all?” he asked.

“One more,” she replied, and she led Sasuke toward a small adobe house that he hadn’t noticed before. It was alone in the desert, one wall completely destroyed, revealing the building’s stark clay interior.

Just before they reached the ruins, Sakura stopped when they approached the body of a large man. Sasuke was surprised to find this man not just unconscious; he was dead.

“He hurt Isao,” she defended automatically, ashamed that death had been necessary.

But Sasuke didn’t need an explanation from her. If she wouldn’t have, Saskue was pretty sure that he would have killed him. “Let the sand have him,” he declared, but Sakura shook her head.

“He belongs with them. They must be able to bury and grieve to find peace. We don’t want to give them cause for any further resentment.”

Sasuke wanted to say “you can’t be serious,” but he didn’t feel like arguing, because no matter what Sasuke could come up with to say next, Sakura would still be right in the end. She had a bigger vision in mind that Sasuke couldn’t quite connect sometimes. He just knew that he would always trust her to do the right thing, even if it wasn’t sensible, or in most cases, not what Sasuke would have done.

“Fine,” he declared, opening the portal once more. His breathing became labored as he pushed the effects of the chakra pill. Like with the others, Sasuke dragged the man’s body into the portal.

Sasuke also stepped through, leaving the gateway open between realms. He directed his attention to Mako, ice already coating his next words.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t wander too far from this spot. The dimension is endless and not of our world. You will only lose yourself and die in this place.”

Mako swallowed deeply in fear as he watched Sasuke’s form from his stomach.

“On second thought,” Sasuke sneered under his breath. “Feel free.” The portal closed behind the Uchiha as he exited. He would deal with all of them later, he thought. He needed to get Sakura back to Sunagakure first.  

………………………………

Sakura couldn’t help but whimper when her left arm wasn’t responding as quickly to her healing chakra. Her right hand—the very same one she had shoved into Mako’s mouth to keep him from screaming—had almost fully recovered as the medicine suppressing her chakra began to wear off and her healing abilities returned to her. Her left hand, however, was at first very numb, which Sakura knew was a very bad sign. But the longer she worked at healing, the more the pain began to intensify. It was almost unbearable, but Sakura was ultimately relieved at the burning sensation that indicated life. Sakura considered the differences between the two hands and all she could conclude was that distance must have had something to do with it since her right hand had a grabbed the blackened sword at his feet and her left had been near his face when she plunged the needle in his neck.

Sasuke supported her as they walked back to the Sand Village, though he suddenly seemed to her like he was the one that needed supporting. He stumbled in the sand and Sakura removed her good arm from his shoulders.

“I’m good. But are you okay?” she asked, noticing his strenuous breathing for the first time.

“Yes,” he fibbed, and Sakura knew it was a lie the minute he clutched his head to support it.

Redirecting her chakra back to her healed hand, Sakura immediately sought out Sasuke’s brow with her fingertips. He moaned with relief as green chakra lighted over it, but he instantly pushed her hand away. “Heal yourself.”

“What happened?” she responded, ignoring his demand. She found his forehead again. “There’s nothing I can do if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”

“I took two chakra pills. I’ll be fine though. I just need rest.” He removed her hand again.

Sakura inhaled sharply at the confession. “Why did you do that?”

“I had already depleted my chakra reserves when I found out you weren’t in the village. I panicked.”

“Overdosing on chakra pills is one thing,” she scolded, “but using them recklessly to overexert your Rinnegan is another. No matter how much chakra you have, you have limits with the Rinnegan.”

“It was my only choice,” he defended sharply, obviously masking his embarrassment with annoyance.

Sakura placed her glowing palm over his eyes, now certain of the source of his discomfort. Sasuke made to move her hand away once more, but she fussed like a mother when he tried. “Let me have my way, or we’ll be here longer.”

Sasuke released a small laugh that sounded like another scoff. Only Team 7 could tell the difference between Sasuke’s derisiveness and his sense of humor.  Sakura couldn’t believe he had the energy to laugh. But then something changed in the air around them and Sasuke grew very serious as he inhaled—the type of inhale someone made before having something important to say.

Sasuke finally managed to grab her fingers and he tugged them away after Sakura was satisfied with his treatment. But he didn’t let go. Instead, he held them for a moment that suggested tenderness. It was different from how their hands had brushed so many times before, like how they rested them against each other as they watched Suna’s desert sunset. This time, it was more like how Sasuke had held her hand between them in the medicine preparation room.

Finally working up the courage, Sasuke looked down at her feet and said, “I’m sorry.”

Sakura stared at the firm hold his fingers had on hers in wonder. And the truly amazing part was that he stillwasn’t letting go. “For what?” she whispered, not knowing what else to say for fear of him moving away.

“For leaving you behind in Suna. For leaving in anger. For not being there and letting this happen.”

Sakura didn’t let him continue. “Sasuke,” she began, catching his guilty eyes with her own. “You don’t have to worry about me anymore. I hope I have proved that to you, today. Please don’t burden yourself with worry for me. I can carry my own burdens and some. You already have the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

Sasuke searched her eyes with his. Sakura knew this was a rare occasion. Not many people would see the Uchiha open, unguarded, with care etched in every feature of his expression.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said suddenly, still holding her fingers tightly, and Sakura felt the whole world suddenly still around them. Even the desert wind seemed to stop. Was this the Sasuke she had always known was inside, no matter how roughly he displayed himself to the world?

“I’m sorry for what happened,” Sakura interrupted, afraid for another impending denial of her feelings. She knew what was coming and she didn’t want this small moment to end. “I won’t do that again.”

He paused and Sakura wondered if he was unsettled by the open acknowledgement of her stollen kiss.

He sighed and Sakura’s stomach dropped. She felt him hesitate, saw it in his face. But he resolved himself, declaring, “I came to a conclusion while I was away, and I have to say this while I have the nerve.”

Sakura nodded, ready for disappointment. She was more afraid of what he would say next than she had ever felt going toe-to-toe with her enemies just moments ago.

“Can it be enough for us to care for one another?” he asked, desperation cloaked with mock annoyance on his breath. “Can it just be enough for us to be friends as long as we are in each other’s lives sometimes? Can it be enough for us to be united in the same goal?”

Sakura’s heart sank and unhappiness hit her like the wave she was expecting. Tears threatened to brim her eyelids, but Sakura swallowed them down. Would he ever not be this thickheaded and stubborn? Would he ever let them be what they could be? Whether or not Sakura was simply high on victory or if she was genuinely losing her meekness in Sasuke’s presence, Sakura wasn’t sure.

She removed her hand from his. “Is it enough for you?” she finally asked, taking a step away from him. But he caught her fingers again, pulling her back gently to face him.

“Is that a no?” he asked emotionlessly, but Sakura saw the struggle in his eyes.

“When the answer becomes ‘yes’ for you, I will accept it as mine as well.” She pulled away, firmly this time. He couldn’t respond. Sakura knew why: he wanted to put this on her; he was always putting it back on her, afraid “because of her,” hesitant “because of her.” These were his excuses, but Sakura wouldn’t give him an out this time. It was his turn to choose.

They both knew that it was far too late for Sasuke to pretend he didn’t love her in the same way that Sakura loved him. But Sakura had learned that people love in many ways and not all people wanted to express that love romantically. Kissing Sasuke had been a mistake. She hated to call it that, but it was the truth of it. She didn’t want to steal from him what he wasn’t ready to give—what he wasn’t at peace with. It was his turn; he now knew where she stood.

………………………………..

When they finally made it back to the Hidden Sand Village, Kankuro was there to intercept them just as Sasuke had expected he would. The puppet-wielding ninja was beside himself with worry at seeing Sakura’s injuries, insisting that Sakura promptly return to the hospital. Sakura had insisted she tend to her own wounds back in their lodgings so she could rest. She immediately requested to see Isao, but Kankuro insisted she get some rest first.

It wasn’t until Sasuke insisted that he have an audience with him and Gaara, that he left Sakura to her own desires. As they parted, Sasuke tried to say something or grab her eyes with his, but she didn’t look at him. Not even once. And Sasuke ran his hand exhaustedly through his hair. He couldn’t think about them right now. A conference with the Kazekage would be the perfect distraction.

Gaara, miraculously, had returned before he and Sakura had, and Sasuke wondered just how fast news could travel. Sasuke privately joked with himself that the desert shared its secrets with the Kazekage. The wind and sand must speak to him if he found out things so quickly. It was a hypothesis that could explain a lot at least.

Sasuke shook his head as he followed Kankuro into the Kazekage’s office. He must be getting delirious from the effects of the chakra pills.

“Sasuke,” came Gaara’s raspy acknowledgement when the Uchiha stepped into the room. Gaara was surprisingly alone, which relieved Sasuke. He thought he would have to face Gaara with the “support” of his council. It would be easier to speak of recent events if only Gaara and Kankuro were present.

Sasuke nodded respectfully despite his feelings of resentment toward the two men at the moment for having let Sakura be kidnapped under their watch. As a ninja that was a part of this unpredictable shinobi world, Sasuke knew his anger was unjustified, but he wanted to be mad at anyone and everyone right now. 99% of his own anger was directed at himself, because Sasuke knew that he was more responsible for what happened than the Kazekage and his brother were. The Kazekage had been trying to be proactive and prevent something like this from happening. It just didn’t turn out that way.

The Kazekage seemed to share Sasuke concern for discreetness, because he cloaked the room in sand as he had done the first day of Sasuke arrival. It filled every crevice, thickening to soundproof the room.

Sasuke opened the portal into Kaguya’s central dimension without further delay. He walked into the vortex, not surprised the group remained exactly where he had left them. The only difference was that they were conscious, a fact that slightly irked the Uchiha.

One by one, he grabbed each ninja, tossing them forward into the Kazekage’s domain. Hisa clutched at her dead counterpart, holding onto the deceased brute. Sasuke found grim satisfaction in Mako’s subdued, yielding persona. Being present before the Kazekage was far more terrifying than being stuck in a desolate dimension.

But the individual that held both Sasuke and the Kazekage’s attention was the wraith-like individual that bled darkness from a small spot on his neck. It was his only injury.

Gaara carefully considered him, crossing his arms and surveying him emotionlessly as he did most enemies that he regarded.

Darkness suddenly began to ooze from the man’s eye sockets and Sasuke’s temper suddenly flared. He looked to Gaara, and the ninja nodded his permission.

“Only demons don’t seem to know when they’re in the presence of other demons. Shall I show you hell?”

Sasuke’s eye suddenly began to bleed as he formed the tiger seal for fire release. “Amaterasu!”

The black flames clung to the phantom, incinerating what Sasuke realized was dark masses of sinewing, vaporized flesh. The phantom hissed. Then screamed, then began to plead for mercy. Hisa began to cry and Mako turned his face away from their leader.

Gaara came up beside Sasuke to speak to the wraith as he writhed. Sasuke released the Amaterasu and the flames receded.

The Kazekage crouched, an arm on his knee. “From one demon to another, I urge you to leave your shadows behind in hell and step out into the light. Only demons desire war. And war breeds more demons.”

Sasuke clutched his eye in silent suffering, and Gaara dismissed him. “I’ll handle the rest. I’ll let you know what we find out.”

Sasuke nodded, not waiting for any further excuses to depart. He had delivered them into the Kazekage’s care. But what those ninja didn’t know was that Sakura’s mercy held Sasuke more confined than it did the Kazekage, a demon just as he had said, whose territory had been breached.

……………………

Sakura was finishing binding her tender left hand in medical bandaging, using up the last of her burn solvent that she had created at Suna’s hospital, when Sasuke walked in.

He opened the door, caught her eyes with his, and tried to hide the bloody track down his face from her with his hand. She was on her feet instantly, pulling him to the bed that he had staked his claim on.

She felt his forehead and it was hot, too hot. He had done it this time. She sighed, summoning the small reserve of chakra behind the diamond mark on her forehead.

She expected Sasuke to scold her for using what little she had left on him, but he didn’t seem to notice in his extreme exhaustion. “Thank you,” he whispered, and Sakura retreated to fetch water for him.

He gulped it greedily and Sakura helped him shrug out of his outer layer of clothing. Sand fell from his hair and clothes in the same way hers had earlier. “I’m better now,” he whispered, the first words spoken between them since their disagreement in the desert.

Sakura nodded, making to move away, but he grabbed her hand for the third time that day.

“Don’t be angry,” he begged, his exhaustion making him suddenly careless to conceal his true intentions with fake displeasure and irritation.

“Why do you think I am angry?” she asked emotionlessly.

“I just want what’s best for you. I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered in defeat. This side of Sasuke startled Sakura. He was becoming more undefended, open with emotions in a way she had never seen him before. Was it because he didn’t have anything to hide anymore? Was he past his denials and his pretending?

“I know,” she squeezed his hand back. “But your concerns are groundless.”

“Tell me how,” he pleaded.

She sat beside him on his bed, and he tilted his ear to her, never removing his hand from hers. She took a breath and told him the truth. Told him everything he needed to know. “I do not love you sacrificially, Sasuke. I do not choose you knowing that my life or happiness could be forfeit by doing so. I choose you because I can keep up with you. Because something like your absence wouldn’t be enough to determine my permanent happiness. I will choose to go on, content with only the thought that I know you are out there somewhere loving me if that is all that I have in the moment.”

She took a breath and continued before he could respond. “I am strong enough to handle whatever comes my way as a result of loving you. And I have absolutely no doubts in my feelings, my happiness, and what I am willing to compromise to be with the person I love most.”

Sakura reached tenderly to turn his face to hers and their eyes met. She touched his forehead in the same way he had done to her many times before. “That person is you,” she reassured him, offering him a sincere smile as she removed her hand from his forehead.

Then Sasuke leaned forward. Very close to her, and Sakura bit her lip to keep from reaching for his with her own. “Is all of that true?” he requested again, suddenly breathless. And Sakura knew later that it was just to be sure before what came next.

“Yes,” she breathed. And she didn’t have to reach for him, because he was suddenly reaching for her. His hand found her chin and Sakura waited for his choice. She waited for him to move. And he did.

“Then my answer is no; it’s not enough for me either.” When his lips carefully parted her own, Sakura knew without a doubt that he had decided to find some way possible for them, a path where he could choose her, too.

[joshstambourine]

Greta Van Fleet as Dad's

Haven't been able to un-see this idea since it showed up on my dash and uggggh. I couldn't get over how cute all of this was.

For this imagine, I'm sort of picturing them with younger children, anywhere from 3-5 years old as they are all still crazy young hehe. Also. All of these imagines work with any gender of child. It's all sorta just what I imagine them having and being like in general 🖤

Taglist: @anditsmywholeheart

JOSH

Josh is such an interesting guy. He is both so deeply smart... but also at the same time he is the equivalent of a conversation between my last two brain cells.

The sheer amount of energy this man has means he'll not only keep up with a kid but also tire them tf out.

There would always be so much screaming and laughing in the house.

Lots of games of tag and the floor is lava

No matter what he has, son or daughter --- there will be so much dancing. Josh would be the kind of dad who loves to hold his kid and just dance around the house with them.

Not to mention all of the goofy songs they would be singing together.

I can see Josh conversing with his kids like adults even when they are little. Meaning there will be some very serious conversations about very silly things. Potato chips can make you a fly? On it. The floor is both lava and also the arctic? Josh is ready to hear all about how that's possible. There aren't mermaids but there are human sharks? Josh needs to know where he can find them asap.

I can very easily imagine him dressed up and sitting at a table that is far too small for him with his legs crossed.

His daughter would have started by putting one necklace on him and it soon escalated to a crown, sunglasses that didn't fit, and a set of fairy wings. Surrounded by many stuffed animals and dolls.

"Mmm, this is great tea! What kind is it?"

"Grape."

He'd look at his tiny tea cup filled with apple juice. "Huh I could have sworn it was Apple. Did you change it on me?"

She would shake her head, "No daddy! We already drank the apple tea!" She'd laugh.

"What?? You drank all the apple tea without me?!" He'd exclaim, "why did you drink all the apple tea with out me?"

Josh would inch over and begin to tickle her, just loving to hear her laugh really.

"Daddy! Daddy no! You can't tickle me, I'm the princess!!"

Jake

Jake immediately strikes me as such a chill laid back dad. The kind of cool dad you'd definitely want during your teenage years.

He'd be the kind of dad to sit and watch cartoons religiously with his kid, there's no way he'd be missing them. Doesn't matter if it's cool or comedy gold, if his little one loves it they're gonna watch it together.

I think Jake would really want to teach his kid how to play guitar. It's something he's so passionate about that I think it would bring him a lot of joy if his kid had at least the knowledge of techniques and things, even if they weren't a huge fan of playing themselves.

Jake as well strikes me as someone who would be psyched about making dad jokes, of course with a straight face.

That is just a long winded way of saying that as a very young child this kid would know more about music than I do now after 20 years of living on this planet.

"What did the Buffalo say to his little boy when he dropped him off at school?"

"Bison!"

For a gender of a kid I'm split right in the middle when it comes to Jake. I think either would be equally as adorable but for this imagine I'm going with a girl to keep things even.

With a little girl I can imagine him sitting quietly as he watches her tiny hands try their best to paint his nails cleanly.

There is pink nail polish everywhere. Everything is a mess. Everything smells of chemicals. But it's fine.

"After I do your nails can I braid your hair too?" She'd eagerly ask, not looking at his hands anymore but she is still trying to paint.

"But your show is going to be on soon...! I thought we were gonna cuddle?"

"....can I braid your hair and watch my show?"

Jake would look at her seriously before smiling, moving quickly to give her a small kiss on the cheek, "of course you can, only if you give me lots of cuddles after."

"Okay daddy!"

*insert a child who is only half heartedly braiding hair while fully enthralled in their show. Head tilted on a 45° angle to see the TV with half of Jake's hair in a frizzy mangled braid.*

Sam

I really think Sam would want his kids to listen to really good music from a young age.

I mean don't get me wrong I think all of the boys would be like this... but I see him being the kind of parent that buys into the "smarter babies listened to music in important development periods"

The ultimate "my kid is so smart" kind of parent that then shows you 20 drawings that don't look like anything, but clearly they look like something to him.

All those drawings get tucked away somewhere safe so he can go back and look at them proudly as his little one grows up.

"Maybe they'll be an artist?!"

He also strikes me as a parent who wants to be really involved in teaching his kid things. ABC's? Sam's baby has them locked and loaded. Numbers 1-20? Still has trouble remembering anything with a nine but we are working on it.

Ultimate joy is achieved when Sam gets to teach his little one how to ride a bike. He feeling like its a right of passage for every kid to have with their dad.

I pictured Sam sitting with his little boy at the kitchen table, puzzle pieces sprawled all over.

"Dad, I have a joke for you." He'd say as he fiddled with a piece.

"Oh yeah? Go for it buddy." Sam would reply as he connects another edge piece.

"Knock knock!"

"Whose there?"

"Banana!"

"Banana who?"

"The Banana man!" Snickering coming from across the table, hands banging on the table and nearly knocking several pieces off the table.

Sam would laugh a long, "Y'know I've never heard that version of that joke---"

"Dad I'm not done"

"Oh I'm sorry, continue." He'd say beginning to look for a few more pieces to go together.

"Knock knock!"

"Whose there?"

"Banana!"

"Banana who...?" Sam would respond slowly, prepared for the same poorly created joke.

"TWO BANANA MEN!"

Sam would have to lay on the table. It was such a freaking terrible joke but so funny to see the amount of joy it brought the little boys features. "You have to tell that one to mom, okay?"

Danny

Danny is such a loving guy in general, I feel like parenting for him would just be so easy. Not saying that there wouldn't be troubled times--- just that he's just one of those people that were born to parent.

The very dependable parent. Always going to make time for any small thing his little one needs.

Danny is going to encourage his kid to do whatever they love with all of his being.

"You like rocks? We should get a rock polisher."

"You're right these cookies are pretty good, maybe we should get the stuff we need to bake them together."

He is going to have a series or specific book he reads to his little one until they fall asleep. Its something he would refuse to miss, they have to do their chapter! Even if he's on tour somewhere he's going to call home to make sure they can read together.

Danny is over the moon to have a little golfing buddy. As soon as this kid could walk he bought them their own set of clubs so they could play along with him. He just couldn't wait to start teaching them.

Golf time is bonding time. They'd get to walk together and talk about anything and everything.

I've been crazy torn about whether to write about him with a son or a daughter, both are equally as cute. For the sake of evenness though I decided on a boy.

"Okay so for your driver buddy you need to hold your arms waaay out." Danny would tell his son holding his arms out.

"Like this?"

"A little more."

Little eyes look to Danny curiously as his arms become fully extended from his body.

"Perfect! Make sure you stand straight, and keep your eyes on the ball." He says with his hand on the middle of the boys back, "And then you just---"

"SWING!"

Danny nearly getting clocked in the head with a golf club but leans back just in time. The satisfying ting of the little one's club hitting the ball sounds,

"DID YOU SEE HOW FAR IT WENT DAD?!"

*Insert the face Danny made when he pretended Sam's margarita's were good*

~ If anyone wants a full fic written for one of these please let me know because I will 100% write out fluffy family fics without hesitation!! ~

[pappydaddy]

tolerate it (p.w.)

A/N: I got tolerate it done! I have been wanting to write this one since I started this collection and I am so happy to have finished it this is one of my favourite songs from Evermore! I also somehow had this take another course while I was writing this and I accidentally connected it to another fic I am writing for this collection (evermore) so I have altered evermore's description to fit it. I just felt this chemistry as I was writing these characters and it just kinda happened. I also thew in a little easter egg relating to ivy in there - I just couldn't help myself because the opportunity was right there.

I want to let it be known that this is not Percy slander, it is just how this fic ended up. Percy is very career driven and he also cares about how he looks and his image and that is shown in this fic.

Anywho, I know there are a lot of people out there waiting on requests and they are coming, just very slowly. I have not had much time to work on writing because of school, but I will get your requests out eventually! However, I hope you lovelies can enjoy this in the meantime💛!

Paring: Percy Weasley x Fem!Reader, a bit of Charlie Weasley x fem!Reader (too much chemistry to deny honestly)

Show/Movie: Harry Potter

Not Requested

Taglist: @sarcasticallywitty15​

No Voldemort AU, no corrupt Ministry (other than everyday corruption. NOT PERCY SLANDER, JUST CHARACTERIZATION (EXPLAINED ABOVE)

Warnings: Loneliness, breaking up, sadness, angst.

masterlist | taglist | wips | navigation

*I COULD NOT GET A GIF - I AM SORRY BUT THERE are ABSOLUTELY NO PERCY GIFS AVAILABLE TO ME😭*

The sound of silence swirled in the room with the dust that floated in the golden rays of sunlight. For something so present in her life these days, Y/N was still not used to the painful silence. She sat on the cushioned couch in Percy’s study, a book laid open on her lap, her hands folded, her back straight. She never used to sit like that, she always thought people who did look like they were always trying to hide something. But, then again, she never used to think she’d be sitting in the same room as her fiancé while feeling like she was millions of kilometres away from him. She lifted her eyes slowly, trailing over the beautifully crafted hardwood floor, over the red and gold rug (that matched the decor of the room), they danced along the dark wood of Percy’s desk. They finally stopped when they landed on his flaming red hair as it shined in the afternoon sunlight. Her head lifted as she studied him. Hunched over his papers, he scribbled furiously. “Percy, dear,” She cleared her throat when her voice came out more mousey than she expected. Percy hummed, not lifting his head from his work. “I was thinking we could go to town today, shop around for some more things for your brother’s visit?”

“Why? Charlie will be fine with everything we have in the guest room.” Percy grunted, dipping his quill in the ink-pot. Y/N pursed her lips, setting the book on the cushion beside her.

“Well, maybe we could get different soap for the ensuite? Maybe some relaxing candles, stuff so he can draw himself a bath,” She suggested, folding her hands back in her lap. “I’m sure he will be tired from coming all the way here from Romania. He’s not used to England time anymore.”

“Charlie doesn’t need all that, besides, it’s not like he’ll have time to relax. Once he’s here, we’ve got to get right to work,” He shook his head as he read over the new paper in his hands. “We’ve got lots of work to do,” He paused, his eyes finally looking at her, but only to flick over her seated form. “You would understand if you were still working.” He jabbed.

Y/N nodded, rolling her lips as she let the comment slide off her back, not thinking too much about his quip, just like she did with the others. “Well, we should still get him something nice, welcome him into our house.”

“I can’t go to town, Y/N, I have to get this done. You can go if you think it to be so important.”

“But I thought it would be nice to go together. It is a beautiful Saturday and those aren’t due for another week-“ She tried to explain, but the sound of Percy angrily throwing his quill against the table cut her off, startling her.

“I can’t just run off to town on a whim. Now if you can’t sit in here quietly then you can go read in another room or something, I don’t care what you do as long as I can get some peace and quiet.” He exploded, gesturing his hand aggressively towards the closed door to his study. She silently looked at the door.

“Sorry, I’ll leave you alone.” She whispered, grabbing the book and raising from the vision, remembering the lecture Percy had given her last time she didn’t put her book back before leaving a room. On her way to the door, she gently laid the book on one of the built-in bookshelves, not even looking at it. Instead, she kept her eyes forward, not wanting to look at Percy as he bowed his head back down to scribble on the paper. The door opened with a creak as Y/N slid out into the large and empty hall. Softly, she rested her weight on the door till it shut. Heaving out a sigh, she let her head fall back against the beautifully crafted white door, the identical one beside her jiggling when the other locked into it with a click.

Living with Percy was not what she thought it would be. When she was just a naive schoolgirl, they talked of having a decent house with a cozy feel, the rooms filled with laughter and the warmth of family, nights spent by the crackling fire with hushed voices and tender touches. The memories of the daydreams she had looked like a fairytale, conjured up from the mind of a foolish girl who thought happy endings were real. Now, she was alone in this grand house, the rooms and halls feeling cold with the only sound being the echoes of her footsteps. Heaving a sigh, she pushed herself off the door and made her way to get ready to go to town.

____

The melody of classical music filled the room as it was bathed in the orange and pink hues of the setting sun. Y/N sat in the armchair by the fire, watching the flames licking the stone, the black smoke swirling up into the chimney. Percy sat in the chair across from her, a book open in his hands, his head bowed low. Many nights in the Common Room were spent like these, Percy’s nose in a book as they sat by the warm fire. It looked almost the exact same as those nights to anyone else who had witnessed them, but Y/N could tell the difference. Now, the fire felt just as cold at the space between them, gone were the soft touches, the stroke of Percy’s thumb against Y/N’s hand, the feeling of his side pressed against her side, the comfortable silence. Y/N missed it all, but the thing she missed the most were the glances that left her smiling and blushing while a storm of butterflies raged in her stomach. Now, she just sat watching him read with his head low, noticing every little thing he does and doesn’t do.

“Percy,” Charlie’s gruff voice spoke, speaking over the cracks of the fire and breaking the verbal silence. Percy looked up from his book, his eyes not even glancing at Y/N in their path to look at Charlie entering the sitting room. Y/N softly turned her head to look at Charlie who took a seat on the empty couch. “I just thought of something that we should talk about in tomorrow's meeting.” He informed him.

“Just one second, Charlie,” Percy interrupted him before he could continue, his finger in the air as he turned his eyes to Y/N sitting across from him. She already knew what he was going to say before the words tumbled out of his mouth. “Y/N, would you excuse us, we have to discuss business and you have no need to be here while we do that.” He finally spoke to her for the first time since dinner. She nodded, standing from the chair and smoothing the back of her dress.

“She doesn’t need to go, the house is far too cold for her not to be near a fire and there isn’t one made anywhere else but my room.” Charlie insisted, catching Y/N’s forearm as she went to walk by the couch, heading for the grand archway leading to the dark hall.

“Nonsense, she can make one with her wand in the bedroom,” Percy waved him off. Y/N bit her bottom lip, looking back at Percy. “What are you looking at me for? You know how to start a fire, I know you’re two years younger than me, but they still taught you the same things as they taught me in Hogwarts.”

“I know how to do it, but I can’t. My wand broke when I slipped on ice in town a couple of days ago, I haven’t been able to run to Diagon Alley to get it fixed yet, remember?” She reminded him meekly, not wanting the same reprimanding she had received when she had told him the first time. Percy tutted, rolling his eyes as he remembered, gently closing the book still in his hands and setting it beside his leg, sticking into the gap between the cushion and the armrest of the chair.

“Ah, yes, I remember now. It’s laying on your dresser snapped practically in half. How many times do I have to tell you not to take your wand when it is icy out? How many wands do you need to break before you realize that,” He lectured as if she was a child. “Very well, wait outside the doorway and I’ll come to start a fire for you.” He heaved out a sigh, beckoning her away with a flick of his hand. Nodding, she went to walk away, but Charlie had not let go of her, instead, he tightened his hold, keeping her in place.

She looked down at him, her lips parted slightly in shock as he glared at his younger brother before looking up at her. “You can just go in my room while Percy and I talk then I will come get you and we can go and start a fire for you in your room.” Charlie informed her in such a way that told her she was not going to argue with him. Nodding silently, she pulled her arm free from his now loose grip and exited the room as it fell silent with tense air between the brothers, her heels clicking on the hardwood and the cracks of the fire being the only sound.

They must have waited until they couldn’t hear her heel clicks anymore before starting to talk since she didn’t hear a single sound coming from the room as she walked down the dark hall, the only light coming from the flicking flames of the candles lining the hallway. She sighed, pushing Charlie’s door open and slipping to the room. She didn’t even notice how cold she was until she stepped into the warm room, she relaxed into the warmth, closing the door behind her to trap the heat in. Making her way over to the armchair stationed in front of the roaring fire, she watched the flames just like she had done in the other room, thinking. All she did was sit in silence, try to live alongside Percy without messing up and making him lecture her. She didn’t understand it. She couldn’t understand how this Percy was the same Percy who stayed up late in the Common Room to talk to her about the scars of her past and soothed each and every one of them, laying soft blankets over the barbed wire of her heart so she could escape and finally love.

She jumped slightly when the door creaked open. Startled, she looked up to see Charlie walking into the room, closing the door behind him again. “Sorry to startle you, I didn’t know you were so deep in thought.” Charlie apologized, sitting in the other armchair across from her.

“It is okay, Charlie,” She told him, moving to stand but he held a hand out to signal her to stop. Obeying him immediately as if he was Percy, she settled back in her chair, sitting posed with her hands folded delicately in her lap, nervous as to why he seemed so stern, assuming she was going to have to listen to another lecture. “Are we not going to start a fire in the master bedroom?” She asked quietly when he didn’t answer, only dropping his hand back to his thigh with a slap, shaking his head.

“No, not yet. I want to talk to you first.” He told her.

“Oh-” She trailed off, her eyes casting down to the rug under their feet before back up at him, confused. “About what? If it is about getting Percy to mention something in the meeting for you, he doesn’t let me talk about work with him-”

“It’s not about Percy, not entirely,” He cut her off, leaning towards her with narrowed eyes as he studied her. She gulped, leaning away, unsure of what he was doing. “You’ve changed,” He mused, leaning back in the chair after concluding his study of her, his eyes still burning into her as she shifted. She knew she changed, it was not hard to tell that she has changed. “You used to stand up for yourself, make yourself known. You were never the doting housewife type of person, but yet here you are, being treated like a child by your fiancé. Why?”

She shrugged, dropping her eyes to the floor. “People change. Percy is so mature and wise, he must be right so that means I should listen to him, he knows best.” She whispered, not believing a word she said. Percy was mature and wise, much older than her, but she knew that he was not right about how he treated her.

“I don’t believe that, but it’s late and you should get some sleep,” He stood, prompting her to stand as well, hurriedly as if she would be scolded for not being prompt enough. “I excused myself from the meeting tomorrow and I am taking you to Diagon Alley. So you have to be up, we are spending the day there and eating supper there as well, which gives you a break from the house chores and Percy commenting on how dirty the plates are or how you set the table wrong, or your cooking. Might even swing by and visit Fred and George’s shop, must have lots to talk to you about, those two.” He told her as he walked to the door, her following behind him silently.

“What about Percy, is he still holding the meeting? He must be mad about you cancelling on him.” She asked nervously as he led her through the darkened halls, the candles having been extinguished, the only light coming from the winter moonlight streaming in through the grand windows.

“He got an urgent letter from the Ministry, he had to leave immediately for an emergency, probably be gone tonight and most of tomorrow.” Charlie told her, opening her bedroom that she shared with Percy.

“I hope everything is okay, it must be very important for him to be called away at a time like this.” She commented, shivering as she stepped into the room that seemed to be even colder than the frozen hall.

“Nothing to worry too much about, I am sure it is just a vermin issue and he has to try to contact someone to tend to it. I think he muttered something about Flesh-eating slugs actually,” He didn’t even look at her as he flicked his wand at the fireplace, igniting the wood that laid stacked in it. Something about how he spoke told her that he wasn’t telling the truth and Percy hadn’t been called away, instead, having stormed off to the office. He pocketed his wand, turning to look at her as she stood in the middle of the room, the glow of the fire lightning it. “I will leave you this to sleep on,” He paused, walking to the door while still looking at her. “The sanctuary is looking for a new magizoologist with an extensive knowledge in herbology.”

____

Y/N walked out of Ollivander’s with her new wand encased safely in the box which was in a bag dangling from the crook of her elbow. Charlie walked out behind her, letting the door fall shut after they said bye to Ollivander. “Okay, now that you’ve got your wand, let’s pop into the Twin’s shop.” Charlie suggested, pointing to the brightly pained shop with the giant, animated man. She looked up as she slipped her knotted coin bag back into her pocket, taking in the shop.

“Sure I haven’t seen the shop in a while. I just never have time to come here. Not with all the chores I have to do around the house.” She shrugged, stuffing her gloved hands into the pockets of her travelling cloak.

“What on earth does my brother have you doing that takes up all your time?” Charlie questioned as they started to slowly make their way down the crowded street, taking their time and enjoying the feeling of walking through the snowy alley. Y/N shrugged again, her eyes looking down at the snow-covered cobblestone, the white fluff packed into the cracks of the cobblestone.

“I mostly clean around the house, but I have to do it a certain way, if I do not, I end up having to listen to Percy’s comments about how much he tolerates.” She told him as they neared the front door of the joke shop, Charlie pulling the door open, letting her go in first as he scoffed at her comment, but he didn’t say anything. Y/N ignored Charlie, looking around the busy story, watching as fireworks whizzed around, ducking as one came right at her head.

“Let’s see what Fred and George think of how he’s treating you,” Charlie hummed, gently leading her farther into the shop so that he could close the door, cutting the cold winter wind off. “There’s one of them now.” He pointed to the tall ginger who was talking to a young customer, nabbing a product from the top of the tall shelf. Before she could protest, Charlie was walking around her and approaching the twin with long strides.

Scurrying after him, she caught up just in time for the twin to turn around, the child scampering off elsewhere to browse. “Ah, Charlie, my dear brother. To what do we owe the pleasure of you gracing our shop too,” The twin exclaimed, a feeling of joy and fun surrounding them as they spent more time in the store. “And Y/N, the future Mrs. Percy Weasley. Good to see you, Madam.” He bowed to her extravagantly, making Y/N looked around the shop with reddened cheeks, hoping nobody saw his little show.

“Hi, George,” Y/N greeted, recognizing the voice. Appearance-wise, she had a hard time telling them apart, but as soon as they talked, she was able to pinpoint just which twin was in front of her without fail. George nodded at the greeting, standing right as Fred wandered over to the group leisurely. “Fred.” Y/N greeted him first, his hands in his pockets, making his suit jacket flare out, being a picture of laid-back.

“Good morning, Y/N,” He nodded to her before nodding to his older brother. “Charlie. What can we do for you today?” He posed the same question his twin had, looking between the pair he never thought he would see grace his shop together. Charlie shrugged, looking at the shelf next to him, poking a box.

“Just popped in to take a peek and get your opinions on a topic we were just discussing,” Charlie told them, jamming his hands into his jacket pockets, looking back to his tall brothers. “Percy.”

“And what about our dear brother?” Fred asked, rolling onto the balls of his feet then rocking back onto his heels. Y/N shook her head at Charlie, fairly annoyed with his mission. She knew everything he was saying, they were all thoughts she already held in her head, but how could she leave Percy after all the love that they held for one another. That love had to still be there, it couldn’t just disappear suddenly.

“Has Y/N changed in the past two years?” Charlie blurted out, confusing the two pranksters in front of him, making them share puzzled looks before looking at Charlie again.

“Yeah, but what does that have to do with Percy?” George wondered.

“Look, yes, I have changed, but Percy has to still love me,” She directed the comment to Charlie, leaving Fred and George to look at each other, questioning what was going on. “All that love couldn’t have just disappeared. We love each other and while life is not how I pictured it, I do not see why I have to do anything to change it. If Percy thinks life should be like that, then he must be right.” She expressed.

“Tell us, Y/N, what life had you pictured?” Charlie asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he instantly knew this would win the argument for him. Y/N shrugged, thinking, her eyes drifting around the store as she thought back to the visions she fell asleep to. The stories she thought would be a reality, but now know that they were just fairytales of a naive girl.

“I guess I always pictured Percy and I sitting on a couch in front of a warm fire, him reading a book out loud. We would share soft touches as we both relaxed after a long day at work. The house would be warm and lively, heated by our love for each other as we did daily activities together like cooking,” She paused, her eyes dancing along the ceiling as fireworks fizzled out overhead. She watched the once bright colours flicker and sputter before going out, leaving a trail of grey smoke swirling into the air. “He would do great things in the Ministry, building up the Wizarding World and I would be making strides in the Magizoologist field,” She sighed, looking back at the three men. “But I guess, somewhere along the way, now he’s building his career and I am just sitting at home, trying to make sure everything is perfect for him all the time.” She trailed off, hanging her head as she thought it through.

“Personally, I don’t see how your life now can compare to the life you pictured.” George spoke up.

“Of course it is incomparable, but life never goes as planned. What I wanted and what I am supposed to have are two very different things,” She agreed. “Besides, it’s not how the world works, I am just naive and childish, Percy tells me that all the time.” Fred shook his head, pointing between himself and his twin.

“No, no. We are childish, you were never naive and childish. You had dreams and an idea of how you wanted your life.” Fred told her, oddly wise and serious for him. George nodded along, silently agreeing. Huffing, Y/N’s tongue flicked out, swiping along her drying lips. Glancing at Charlie, she saw him looking at her, a look in his eye telling her to believe them. She found herself trusting his eyes, staying locked in his gaze until she came to her senses and darted her eyes back to the ceiling.

“It isn’t too late to have your dream life, Y/N,” Charlie spoke softly. Y/N could feel his eyes on her still, but she ignored it and continued to look at the ceiling where fireworks once were zooming around, darting towards the shelves, fizzing and sparking with beautiful colours. “You just have to talk to Percy if you always pictured him in your life. You can have the life you pictured, what you want and what you are supposed to have are not two different things.” He told her.” She listened to his words. She could do it. She could remove the painful dagger he had jabbed into her dreams and pull it out if she had to.

“I’ll talk to him.” She nodded, looking back over at Charlie who smiled at her, proud that she had finally listened. She found the corners of her lips turning up into a smile as she gazed into his eyes, feeling a weight lifting off her shoulders and chest. Just then, pops and fizzes were heard overhead, making her look up, seeing the bright colours swirling around the ceiling before each of them whizzed off elsewhere in the shop.

“Well, that means it is a new hour-” Fred started, looking up at the new fireworks speeding through the store, dodging one that almost hit him.

“Lunchtime.” George finished, also gazing at the fireworks.

“Well, we best be heading to lunch, we’ve got lots to discuss and do today,” Charlie nodded to his brothers who started a game of rock, paper, scissors to see who would take their lunch first. “I’ll see you at Y/N’s and Percy’s tomorrow night for the family dinner before I leave?” He asked them, earning nods and a frustrated grunt from Fred when George beat him in the first game.

“See you guys.” Y/N waved as they started a new round. Charlie and her turning around to make their way out of the shop, walking back out into the bitter cold. Y/N couldn’t help but let her destined conversation with Percy weigh on her mind.

____

Y/N collected the dirty plates as Percy talked to Bill about Ministry business, the others having migrated to the living room after Y/N had denied help, the only one who insisted passed her stubbornness and actually forced her to let him help was Charlie who took it upon himself to clean and put the dishes back. “Here, dear, let me take those into the kitchen for you.” Molly marched back into the dining room, hands out ready to grab the stack of dishes from Y/N.

“You do not need to help, Molly, you are our guest, I am more than capable.” She insisted politely, adding another plate to the stack. It was one of their fancier sets, not that any of their sets weren’t fancy, but these ones were the more expensive set that they used for family gatherings.

“Nonsense dear, you can’t take all of these dishes without your wand. I’ll clear the table and you can go search for it.” Molly waved her hand at the young woman, forcefully grabbing the stacks of plates from her hands.

“Did you lose your brand new wand already?” Percy asked her, cutting off his conversation once his mother was in the kitchen. Y/N looked to him, shrinking back under his judgemental gaze, folding into herself as if she was a child being scolded.

“I had it in the bedroom while I was getting ready, I left it on the bed to go into the bathroom, but it was gone when I got back,” She explained, but he just huffed, rolling his eyes at her, muttering under his breath, clearly embarrassed she had been so foolish in front of his family. “I honestly think it got wrapped up in the sheets, I am sure I will find it when it is time to go to bed.” She spoke up.

“I am very sorry for her immaturity, Bill,” Percy apologized. “Y/N, could you go wait in the kitchen while I finish up with Bill then I’ll call you back in.” He told her. Nodding, she bowed her head, walking through the doorway leading to the kitchen. Molly and Charlie looked at her, but she simply waited outside of the doorway, trying not to listen to Percy and Bill talking.

“What are you doing,” She jumped when Charlie appeared beside her, his present startling her. “Sorry,” He apologized, drying his hands on one of the dishtowels as the dishes continued to watch themselves in the sink, Molly leaving the room to get more dishes from the table. “But what are you doing?”

“Waiting for Percy to be done, he wants to talk about me losing my wand,” She told him. Charlie groaned, tossing the towel to the counter messily, giving her a look. “I know, I know,” She muttered, knowing what he was thinking. “I need to talk to him, but I am not talking to him right before a huge family dinner nor am I talking to him while you’re here.” She told him, turning around as he walked farther into the kitchen, starting to put the dishes away as they placed themselves into the rack after drying themselves.

“That means you’re going to talk to him tomorrow after I leave, right?” He asked, not noticing Fred and George walking into the kitchen in search of more food, the pair stopping to listen to the conversation.

“Yes, at some point tomorrow I will talk to him. For now, I can survive this treatment for another night, besides, I want to put the conversation off because what if it’s the end of Percy and I? Am I really ready for that possibility? What if there is still love buried under this mess?” She worried, watching as he moved through the kitchen to place the dishes back, having already figured out the layout in the short time he was there. She was amazed at how quick he was to adapt to change.

“I guess then that is the difference between the life you picture and the life you are meant to have, there are things that just do not work out because they are holding you back from your dream. If this conversation is the end of you and Percy then it is the end.” Charlie shrugged, stopping what he was doing as the dishes started to lag behind. She hummed nervously, twisting her fingers as she shifted.

“Y/N, could you come in here for a moment?” Percy called to her. With one last look shared between her and Charlie, she turned, nearly bumping into George in the process, not realizing he was in the room. He smiled down at her, moving out of her way as Fred wandered up to Charlie, patting him on his back.

“You and I aren’t that different, are we Charlie-boy? Both trying to break up engagements.” He spoke, but something told Y/N she was not meant to hear that.

“I’m not trying to break up with engagement, Fred, that’s ridiculous-” She couldn’t hear what else Charlie was saying as she walked into the dining room again, spotting Percy sitting in the same spot, his hands folded on the clean table in front of him, Molly walking into the kitchen, smiling as she passed her, clearly unaware she was going to be lectured by her son.

“Really, Percy, I know where my wand is, I just didn’t have enough time to actually look for it in the sheets.” She told him, taking a seat at the table, a few spots down the head he sat at, his cold eyes on her. She gulped, shifting in her seat as she folded her hands in her lap, angling her body to look at him better.

“You couldn’t have told me you lost your wand? I could have found it and spared us being embarrassed in front of my family,” He questioned, exasperated. “You know, I know I saw this a lot, but I really do tolerate so much from you. Please, for the love of Merlin, next time think about how we appear to others before you tell people that you lost your brand new wand. I mean, how clumsy are you? First, you break one and now you lost one.” He shook his head, standing up, his chair scraping against the hardwood floor.

“I really am sorry, Molly was asking and I couldn’t lie to her,” She insisted, standing up herself. “Where are you going, is this the end of the conversation, I don’t even get to defend myself?” She asked as he walked towards the archway leading to the hall. He paused, looking over his shoulder at her.

“I have to go do damage control so that we are not the laughing stock of the family. Why don’t you go and work on the dishes with Charlie?” He suggested in a way that told her to just listen to him. Not wanting to put him into a worse mood than he already was, she obeyed, making her way back into the kitchen where Charlie worked at putting the dishes away again, the twins had left, obviously taking the hallway back to the sitting room.

“Hey, I know this might not be the time, but I just realized that I might not be able to return for Christmas again this year so I wanted to take this opportunity to say Happy Christmas to you.” Charlie said when he heard her walking in, looking over his shoulder as he placed a glass back into its spot.

“Happy Christmas, Charlie.” She returned the festive greeting solemnly, making Charlie give her a concerned look before deciding not to ask any questions, clearly seeing that she was too wrapped up in her head to listen to him pester her. Instead, he went back to putting the dishes back, glancing at her every few minutes.

____

The house had returned to its normal silence once again, leaving Y/N sitting alone in the sitting room, waiting for Percy to get home from the Ministry. She twisted her fingers together, staring at the flames in the fireplace, heating the room. Looking up as she heard the door to their house opening, she stood, rushing through the sitting room to look out into the hall, seeing Percy shrugging off his cloak and setting his briefcase down. “Percy,” She spoke softly, gaining his attention. He hummed, looking up at her as he untied his shoes. “Could you come in here a moment, I have to talk to you about something.” She asked him rather nervously.

“Of course, just a moment while I change my shoes, I don’t want to track snow into the house,” He told her, grabbing another pair of shoes to slip on. She nodded, ducking back into the sitting room and making her way back over to the sofa, taking her spot back. The thought of this conversation being the end of her relationship with him weighed in her mind, but after spending the day all by herself for the first time in a week, she realized how it already felt that it was over between them for the longest time. She wasn’t able to think too much about it anymore as Percy walked into the room, rubbing his hands together and blowing into them, trying to warm himself up. “What do you need to talk about?” He asked her, standing in front of the fireplace, holding his hands out to it.

“I want my dream life,” She blurted out, not giving herself a chance to chicken out. Gulping, she watched as he glanced over his shoulder at her in confusion. “I want to go back to work and I want to know if you still love me.” She continued, throwing the plan she had rehearsed for this conversation out the window.

“Of course I still love you-”

“Really? Because it seems to me that I am just a burden that you tolerate and I should not just be tolerated, I should be celebrated and shown love, but all you do is make comments and roll your eyes as if I am a child,” She ranted, the words just pouring out, easing the pressure she didn’t know she had weighing down on her chest. “I want to be loved and appreciated, not banished to doorways and shooed out of rooms. I want to be able to live, I want to be relevant in someone else's life, I want to make a name for myself, not just making it into the footnotes of your success story,” She paused, looking lifting her eyes from the floor, looking at him to see him fully turned towards her, his mouth hanging open as he blinked at her. “And I so desperately want to know that there is still love between us because you were who I imagined in my perfect life. Please,” She choked on unshed tears, feeling the tell-tale lump in her throat, blocking the words from leaving her mouth. “Please tell me that this is all in my head and that there is a flame still burning in the depths of this darkness.” She pleaded, a few tears slipping down her cold cheeks.

She was silent, the only noise coming from her were the sniffles as she tried to not let out the sobs and cries she was holding back. He stayed silent as well, his eyes stuck to the floor under his feet, not wanting to meet her eyes. A sob slipped past her lips as she realized what the silence meant, but part of her didn’t want to believe it. “If you don’t tell me it is possible for us to love each other still, then I will have no problem taking this dagger you jabbed through my heart out, leaving the idea of us bleeding out on this coffee table if that meant I could have my dream life,” She was fully prepared now to leave him, to dump the weight of him off her shoulders. “Believe me, Percy Weasley, I can do it if you do not tell me that I somehow got this all wrong,” She gave him another opportunity to speak up, to fight for her, but he remained silent, still not lifting his eyes to meet her. Just then, she knew that she could not deny it anymore and her heart shattered with the force compared to the killing curse, breaking into millions of little, tiny pieces as she realized that there was no more love and he was just tolerating her to save face. “Well, I guess this belongs to you again,” She whispered, pulling the engagement ring off her finger, gently laying it on the clean coffee table, standing up. “I already had my things ready in case this happened so this is goodbye, Percy.” She kept her eyes on him, hoping that he would lift his eyes from the floor finally and tell her to stay, that he did love her still, but he didn’t. He remained just as silent and cold as the house they were in. He gave her no other choice but to walk out of the room and walk out of this life, now free from the dagger in her heart and the weight of him crushing down on her, free from him only tolerating her.

[struwwelzeter]

For a variety of reasons, I got into a bit of a rabbit hole about Richard's guitars, and my brain went "oh I know someone who will probably have opinions on this" so essentially, if you feel like it, pretty please talk RZK guitars to me? Favourite? Retired one that needs to come back? (Though I probably already know the answer, that fancy black one?)

Allrighty, buckle up because this is gonna be long. After much consideration I have decided to split it up in two parts because I don’t think I can make it fit into one post that is still vaguely tumblr appropriate, and I really wanted to do it some sort of justice. I still feel like I don’t. But oh well. Full disclaimer, I am NOT a guitarist, but I lived with a few, two of my best friends are pro players and I’m a sponge so I kind of soaked some bits and pieces up over the last 15 years. But in case any lost guitar hero finds this and disagrees with me over the finer points of tone wood: I know honey, I oversimplified, and I am wrong. I tried? 💜 for easier read I formatted everything specific to Richard’s guitars normally and anything general about electric guitars in cursive.

My main sources besides watching about a 100 a month of guitar tube videos (that is youtube for guitarists) with my ex, my main sources will be this interview and this.

Richard Z. Kruspe (of Rammstein and Emigrate)’s Guitars - In Order of Appearance, Part 1/2

Diamant (Les Paul Style)

“I traded the acoustic for a guitar called Diamant, which was like a Les Paul version in East Germany.” - RZK

Now I’m skipping the acoustic he started out with, because it’s basically impossible to know what that was, and go straight into the electric. Now presumably, it would have been something like this, a soviet build Les Paul rip off. The irony is that these still go for several thousands up on reverb today for being historical and collectors pieces. The thing is, that while anything east build might have used cheaper materials, I would assume this thing isn’t worse than any of the beginner/intermediate models sold today, if not better, and kids all over the world do decent stiff with those.

Something general about electric guitars is that you don’t really so much play the guitar, you play an entire system. The instrument doesn’t make the sound, it only influences it. You play a guitar - but you even more so play the amp. Which makes this a bit tricky, because an e-guitar is a slab of wood and a copper coil, and amps are way more complex. You can make the exact same guitar sound so many ways. Still - there are tendencies. The fact how and why and to which degree the shape and wood of a solid body (a guitar without a hollow wood piece) influences the sound is highly debated and can get a bit esoteric sounding to sane people non-guitarists, but there are some differences in how the general set up and build of the guitar changes things, and tendencies how they are traditionally outfitted. Les Paul style guitars are normally humbucker guitars, Stratocasters and Telecasters normally are outfitted with single coils. Usually a guitarist can switch - between using the bridge, the neck, or both (or more) pick ups and depending on where the pick up is located they pick up different frequencies, different aspects of the sound. Humbuckers produce a richer, deeper or fuller sound than single coils. Very roughly speaking, think the Stones vs. Metallica.

Fender Stratocaster

“Then in East Germany, we had this imagination to get one of the great guitars, to me it was always the Fender Stratocaster because it was the Jimi Hendrix guitar. I didn’t know anything about pickups or humbuckers or whatever. So there was this guy that I met in a café in my old hometown and he was buying all these books because he could get all the books out through customs and he would store them in my apartment. So we became kind of acquainted. He would come over and pick up the books. So one time he came over and I asked him if he could get me a guitar and bring it over. In East Germany, if you exchange money from East to West it would be like 1 East mark and 20 West mark. SO everything I had, I changed it to West Mark and I gave him the money and I gave him the money and asked him to please buy me a Fender Stratocaster. I gave him the money and I didn’t hear anything for like three months, nothing. I wasn’t able to call because we didn’t have phones and stuff like that – it was a different time. So I thought fuck, I gave him 1400 west mark and now he’s gone and never coming back. [...] Then my imagination was so high, I thought the guitar would just play by itself and I wouldn’t really have to do anything, which I found out was bullshit. I was really happy that I had the guitar but it wasn’t really the sound that I had in mind.” - RZK

The first time I heard that story, I literally went “no, no, no, don’t be stupid, don’t give him your money, you won’t even like that guitar, stupid, lost dumbass.” I can not, for the life of me, imagine him play anything other than humbuckers. He apparently does use single coils for some things today again in the studio, but still, it’s so obviously wrong. He did play one again sometime during the late 90s, but I couldn’t find anything on the pick ups he used with that, but can hardly imagine he kept the original, unless he needed it for a specific sound maybe in one or two songs. I get it though. For many, many people the Fender Stratocaster is THE guitar. Jimi Hendrix is the main reason for that, but it’s also the countless idols that picked it up after him for the same reason, people who ended up plastered on the walls of angsty teenagers in their own right. This totally has to do with the whole amp thing aswell. You see your idol play that type of guitar ... but it’s not even half of the sound, and it won’t sound the same. Maybe probably they changed the pick ups, they have an effect rig, the spend hours fiddling with the knobs on an amp you can never afford. It’s never the same. Which is why ...

Fender Telecaster Black Gold

Then I had a guitar that I was very fond of. It was an older black and gold telecaster – there weren’t very many of them made at that point. I put a Seymour Duncan Jeff Beck SH-4 in there, like a humbucker. I remember it was like my beauty guitar and I needed someone to put that pickup in and I was with Paul and he had more experience with that stuff than me so he would get out a hammer and a chisel and he start banging away on it and I was like ‘Fuck! Fuck! Don’t do that!’ but we put the thing in there and it was one of my favorite guitars” - RZK

... this one first didn’t really make sense for me for him. It’s even more a classic single coil guitar than the Strat is, and it only really started making sense for me when I learned he Paul indeed put a Humbucker in there. It’s a stunningly beautiful guitar, and weirdly non-modern for him. I don’t know why and this is completely instinctual on my part, but I find it fitting he played it during that time after the wall came down, which seems to have been a rough time for him generally, it seems like a somehow super emotional guitar, this relic. Telecasters were some of the first electrics ever build, it’s such a pioneer, but it’s also one that alot of punk bands used, possibly because they were old and cheap in the 70s and noisy and people customized it and put other pick ups in. The whole putting a chisel to it and adding a humbucker into it is such a “I’m gonna make whatever I have fit for me, and I’ll love it” move. If you look at it, a double coil pick up is really something you have to force to go in there, you really have to break it open. There is also this:

“... and then I think I had to sell it because I needed drugs or something. I was really sad that I sold it because I was at a very low point in my life.” - RZK

If I would get the chance to do one thing only for him to thank him for his music, I would go back in time to that Richard who is just sad about selling that guitar and hug him, and tell him he doesn’t need to worry, because they will name guitars after him in the future. It breaks my heart so fucking much. But of course, it’s what opens the doors to what happens next, which is ...

ESP 901

“That led me to my very first convention in Frankfurt. With guitars, it is like with women, you have to fall in love. Sometimes you get a guitar and you fall in love later but there has to be some sort of connection with it. So I was walking around that convention and I saw that guitar hanging at the ESP stand. It was a 901 ESP Sunburst and I was looking at it because it was such a beauty. And I was walking around for hours – they probably thought I was some weird guy who wants to steal the guitar. I bought that guitar and that’s how I got connected with ESP.” -RZK

He might have fallen for it because it is pretty, but it did come with a ESP double humbucker set up, with an added condensator to muffle up the sound, although not yet an active one (more on that later). It was a 90s metal guitar, one of those things marketed to the Metallica generation, something loud and heavy and full. Also, and this is where I will put in another general insert, there is something else about the choice of electric guitars that we haven’t talked about yet.

Now, I’ve discussed that you can push or pull the sound of a electric quite far in one or the other direction with what pick ups you use, what effects, what amps. But what this ignores is that especially standing up a guitar is a really shitty asymmetrical piece of equipment. And what that does to your body is that it needs to fit you, your hands, and your playing style. Some people prefer it chunky, others like sender. Guitarists, especially the 80s shredders, like to talk about a “fast neck”, which is another one of those things that get slightly esoteric, but which usually means a slimmer neck and slightly bigger frets, that need less way for your fingers to press until the string gets stopped. Someone who plays very bendy blues might dislike that and prefer something to dig in their fingers more down to the fretboard to get more control over how they bend the string. There are different neck profiles, there are different neck lengths, and all of it contributes to how comfortable someone might find their guitar.

I am mentioning this, because until today, Richard’s guitars are build very similarly to that ESP 901. His Eclipse Model is a tad different (again, more on that later), but the one he uses the most, the RZK I, has the same neck scale, similar frets, and that comfortable ESP slender neck. Even the shape seems to be inspired by turning it upside down. He has said in interviews that he hasn’t got very strong hands, and it makes perfect sense to me. I bought my own electric (again, more on that later) purely because I wanted to own one and not even so much because I ever had any real ambitions of learning to play it, but my friends at the time (10 years ago now) forced me to try out alot (!) of models (despite me knowing what I wanted), and the only guitars that I tried that had slimmer necks were Ibanez guitars, which in turn were wider. Ironically Frankfurt is my hometown, so the place to try a lot of different models is That exact convention Richard went to, and I haven’t skipped a Musikmesse in the last 15 years. I was at atleast one were Richard was too (I just didn’t care at the time, yikes), and it somehow greatly pleases me he found “his” guitar at that particular convention. Things have changed in recent years, but electric guitars always were in Hall 4.01, with ESP being left of center in the middle, and I don’t know, I can just see him walking in circles around it, and it makes me so emotional for him because it’s what musicians do at that place. It’s really loud, everyone is playing, there is someone better noodling around at every corner, and it can be quite an intimidating setting I think. And every year you see that one kid coming back and back again to that same stand, staring at that one guitar until they finally work up the nerve and ask to try it (or the staff takes pity on them and offer). And it’s the same everytime, they think “oh god they must think I am crazy” but really, nobody does. Everyone in that hall who owns a heart knows what those dreams are made of, and all it maybe does inspire is a “oh god, I hope that one makes it”. I digress. I think it’s more common now to look for different neck styles and companies started caring about it, but especially coming from Fender and Gibson guitars, that neck is honestly just very, very nice for weaker hands.

This is where I will stop, because it makes a good moment for a break and this post is honestly getting too out of hand otherwise. There will be a part 2 - where Richard starts using active pick ups, starts playing my favorite guitar in the whole wide world (and stops playing it), and finally, set up his own signature.

This is him with that 901 though: when he must have had it pretty much brandnew, while he used it, and right before he sold it.

[flowercrown-bard]

Poems for the Poet (1/ 5)

Pairing: Eskel/Jaskier

Summary: Unbeknownst to Jaskier, he inspires Eskel to try his hand at writing poetry. Eskel posts his poems anonymously to notice boards, not thinking that anyone would read them. Until he hears Jaskier's songs unmistakably referencing Eskel's poetry. (Eskel’s pov of The Way to a Poet’s heart)

Word count: ~2k

AO3

next

Content warnings: self-consciousness, self-doubt

Eskel could have been many things. He could have been handsome. At least he remembered his mother calling him such when he had still been a boy with a wide and toothy grin that he didn’t need to hide. He could have become a mage – his hill-folk blood had practically guaranteed him a place at Ban-Ard.

And maybe, as slim a chance as there had been, he could have become a poet. He remembered his mother singing to him about hens. It had been a silly song, but when he had undergone the Trials of the Grasses, the verses had been the last thing on his lips before the melody had turned into cries as fire raced through his blood.

That day, all dreams disappeared and turned into could-have-been’s that twisted Eskel’s stomach if he ever thought about them.

They didn’t matter anymore. Eskel was a witcher. One exceptionally skilled in magic, but a witcher nonetheless.

Perhaps he had even been handsome for a little while longer, but now there was not a hint of attractiveness left on him. It didn’t bother him. Couldn’t bother him.

At the very least he still had his poetry. No, not his. He had never written a verse in his life. If he had gone to Oxenfurt instead of being dragged to Kaer Morhen, he might have learned about metre and clever word-play. Now, he didn’t dare put a pen to paper. Too certain was the chance that his words would only be yet another disappointment. He’d rather keep the wish to write a might-be instead of a dreaded could-have-been. As long as he didn’t try and fail, he could still imagine that he might be able to become a poet one day. Until then, he would study his poetry collection and listen to the bards he came across in taverns, praying that their songs wouldn’t break off once they laid eyes on him.

It happened more often than Eskel would like to admit. Many times, he found himself lingering outside a tavern, just to get the chance of listening to the songs a little longer before they inevitably faded in discomfort when the bards noticed the witcher staring at them through the windows.

He would have done so today as well, if it weren’t for the long gash in his leg. It didn’t hurt too badly and it was already close to being healed, but he yearned to sit down and close his eyes for a little while, to eat and maybe, if he was lucky, to listen to some songs.

Even from outside the tavern he could hear that the bard singing a soaring ballad was talented.

So he pulled his hood up and pushed the door open. As he shuffled to a table at the corner, he tried to make himself as small and inconspicuous as possible.

He knew he should have kept his eyes cast down. He knew he should have kept to himself.

Yet there was something in the bard’s verses that made Eskel’s insides sing. He didn’t know the words for what he heard. Perhaps it was alliteration or anaphor? Whatever the bard had done to give his words life, it stirred something in Eskel.

He looked up before he could think better of it; before he could remember all the reasons why he shouldn’t do such a thing.

For a blessed heartbeat he was allowed to just look at the bard. There was no denying his beauty. Clearly, many people in this room looked at the bard’s blue eyes or long fingers with adoration.

Eskel noticed those things merely as an afterthought. He was too distracted by the almost wistful expression on the bard’s face, the way he subtly swayed with his music as if he was a part of it and the meaning he put into every word as it fell from his lips.

Eskel’s chest clenched at the sight. Without meaning to, he leaned forward to see better. It must have been that movement that caught the singer’s attention, for his eyes wandered over to Eskel.

And his voice broke. Blue eyes widened and fingers had to strain not to fumble.

Abruptly, Eskel looked away, pulling his hood deeper into his face to hide his eyes and turning his scarred side towards the wall for good measure.

It was already too late. All hope that the bard might not have realised exactly what Eskel was burst when the song came to an overly hurried end.

A handful of patrons muttered disapprovingly and one even gave a shout, demanding his coin back if the bard wasn’t going to play a full set.

Out of all the people, Eskel knew he was the one most disappointed in the abrupt yet not unexpected end of the performance. He would have loved to hear more of this bard’s art, to listen for long enough to figure out just how he crafted his verses.

Yet another could-have-been.

Eskel should probably leave. Maybe if he did, the bard would pick up his song again and Eskel would be able to listen to it while he put distance between himself and the tavern. His leg ached at the thought of having to get up already, but if it meant getting to hear a little more of the bard, it would have been worth it. Eskel was just about to stand up when someone pulled out the chair opposite of him and let themselves fall onto it with little grace, but palpable excitement.

Long fingers drummed onto the table as if the person’s energy couldn’t be contained. Or as if they were waiting impatiently for Eskel to leave.

“Apologies,” Eskel said, doing his best to make his voice sound smoother than it was. “I’ll leave the table to you.”

Unexpectedly, a hand shot out and grabbed Eskel’s wrist, lightly enough to make clear this person wasn’t out for a fight, but insistent enough to make Eskel tense.

“That would be defeating the purpose of me coming here, wouldn’t it?” That voice. It was the bard’s voice. Unwillingly, Eskel’s eyes snapped up and his breath hitched when they met blue. The bard’s easy smile didn’t leave him, even as he took in Eskel’s inhuman eyes and mangled face. “After all, I came here specifically to talk to you.”

“Oh.” Eskel relaxed slightly. This he could do. “Do you have a contract for me?”

The bard let out a pearling laugh that crinkled the skin around his eyes. Eskel’s chest clenched. It was rare a human laughed in his presence. No, that wasn’t quite true. People laughed constantly, though mostly at him. They would snicker blatantly when they saw his face or snort cruelly when he said something that had been meant to sound gentle and diplomatic but evidently came out as a pitiful attempt of an oafish mutant to fit in where there was no place for him.  

But never before had someone other than his family laughed in a way that made him think that perhaps he wasn’t the one being laughed at.

“Well, no. Not exactly.” The bard leaned forward with an eagerness that almost made Eskel draw back. No one leaned towards a witcher. Least of all Eskel with his disfigured face and hulking frame. “I was wondering if you were willing to let a humble bard accompany you on a hunt?”

Eskel blinked at him. “I- no. I just come from a hunt.” Absentmindedly, he shifted his leg beneath the table. “And it would be too-“

“Oh, don’t tell me it would be too dangerous.” The bard let go of Eskel’s wrist and waved it through the air dismissively. “Geralt tells me that all the time and I’m not dead yet, am I?”

Eskel’s brows would have drawn together, if he hadn’t trained himself to keep frowns off his face to stop it from becoming even more fearsome.

For a heartbeat he could only stare at the bard, trying desperately to connect the few things Geralt had told him about his bard to the man sitting in front of him now. A lot of the details – annoyingly talkative, a petty menace, dangerously ready to fall in love with anyone he met – weren’t things Eskel could ascertain from such a short time of talking to the man. But what had was most important was the way Geralt had talked about his bard. There had been a fondness to even his most exasperated words. A fondness that Eskel could imagine only too well being directed at someone like this bard. In fact, as the bard’s smile grew wider with every second that Eskel studied him and something warm and fuzzy spread through Eskel’s insides, he found himself feeling some of that fondness already.

He swallowed and tried to clear his throat as inconspicuously as possible. “Are you Jaskier?”

Jaskier’s eyes lit up with delight. “Geralt mentioned me? Didn’t think he would.”

“He had little choice in the matter.” Eskel’s lips would have twitched if he hadn’t feared that would make Jaskier recoil. “Lambert and I kept teasing him about the fact that there was a song about him.”

As soon as the words left him, he froze. His eyes widened and he scrambled for words to fix his mistake. “I don’t mean that as a bad thing, of course. It’s an honour to have you sing about witchers and the way you weave stories is incredible.”

A hint of red crept into Jaskier’s face that must have been a trick of the light. “Thank you,” he said almost sheepishly, but then his face brightened into something radiant and beautiful. “Wait, you are Eskel!”

Jaskier practically bounced in his chair in his eagerness to drag it even closer to the table. “Geralt told me so much about you!”

Eskel felt his throat grow tight. Far too often had Geralt found him in the library, leaning over a book of poetry and songs written by the very same man that sat before him now. How many times had Eskel drunk a little too much White Gull and told Geralt that he admired his bard?

“He did?” He asked hoarsely.

“Of course!” Jaskier let out a carefree laugh. “He always jokes that one day he would hand me over to you because you are the only witcher that wouldn’t go insane if he had to listen to me sing all day.”

Eskel’s lips twitched, though he turned his head just quickly enough to hide his smile. “I can imagine worse things than listening to your songs.”

Jaskier tilted his head to the side and gave Eskel a look of unashamed curiosity. “Why, my dear Eskel, is that a compliment?”

Eskel shook his head and hunched his shoulders. Before he could stop himself, his hand came up to paw at his scars uncomfortably.

“It…It was supposed to be teasing. I don’t- I’m sorry, I’m not good with that.” His eyes darted away and then quickly back to Jaskier. Putting as much sincerity as he could into his voice, he added, “I would enjoy listening to you sing some more. You have a beautiful voice and your song made me feel like I could almost see the images you were conjuring up.”

For a moment Jaskier only gaped at him and Eskel cursed himself. Of course he had messed this up again already. He shouldn’t have tried to fix his own mistakes. By now he should know that nothing good would ever come out of that. A poet such as Jaskier didn’t want a witcher’s clumsy attempts at complimenting his art, not when he undoubtedly was used to scholars’ and nobles’ praises.

But then Jaskier’s expression shifted and his eyes lit up with something almost like awe.

“That was one of the kindest things I’ve heard about my singing in years.” He ducked his head almost shyly. “Most people tend to criticise me. Rather coldly, might I add.”

“Nothing to criticise as far as I could see.” Eskel shrugged sheepishly. “As I said, I would love to hear more of your art.”

Jaskier contemplated him for a moment that made the warm feeling in Eskel’s chest burn brighter. For some reason he didn’t mind the staring when it was Jaskier’s eyes he could feel on him.

“Does that mean you wouldn’t mind if I wrote a song about you?”

Coming from anyone else, Eskel would have thought that those were just empty words. Eskel wasn’t song-worthy.

And yet, when Jaskier eventually invited him to share the room with him to save some coin, the bard was already humming a melody to a new song.

Neither of them slept much that night. The both of them stayed up until almost the early hours of the morning, discussing rhyme schemes and talking about how writing poetry helped putting meaning into bad experiences and immortalising beautiful ones. Softly, they recited their favourite poetry to each other.

Eskel was embarrassed to admit that he had memorised some of Jaskier’s poetry but the confession made Jaskier smile brighter than any human should smile in the presence of a witcher. And when Jaskier lamented that most of his favourite lines of poetry were merely fragments lost to time, Eskel perked up and filled in the gaps for him, promising to show him his collection of ancient poetry at Kaer Morhen one day.

It wasn’t something to be taken seriously; merely a suggestion made in the spur of the moment, but Jaskier looked at him as if he had hung the stars and the moon for him and Eskel found himself hoping that maybe someday he would know Jaskier well enough to be allowed to give him such gifts.

Eskel fully expected Jaskier to be gone in the morning, and his heart skipped a beat when instead Jaskier announced that he would stick around at least until he would get to see Eskel fight.

When Jaskier finally went his own way to meet up with Geralt again two weeks later, he left Eskel with a strange yearning in his chest and verses that had been written for no one but him.

And beneath it all, Jaskier left him with an itch in his fingers that urged him to buy a quill and ink. He didn’t put anything to paper just yet. But the might-be that had haunted him for decades got just a little closer to a could-be. Perhaps Eskel could become what he had always wanted to be after all.

Perhaps next time he saw Jaskier, he would be able to share his own verses with the poet.

[anonniemousefics]

All Kinds Of New Friends

Fandom: Six of Crows | Kaz + Inej (ft. all the other Crows)

Word Count: 4,700

Rating: Teen and Up

TW: contains mentions of sexual assault

Cross-posted to AO3

Synopsis: The gang has a run in with a couple of unscrupulous characters from Inej's past, and Kaz says a few things in the middle of a rage he wasn't supposed to say yet.

Author’s Note: This fic is dedicated to AO3 user puppy cat, who was such a supportive, lovely fan from the very first chapter of "My Dearest Inej" all the way to the end. They requested a fic based around a particular idea involving the gang at a restaurant and someone harassing Inej and Kaz losing his shit in a very specific way (being intentionally vague here to avoid too many spoilers lol). If you like this au, there's more of it in my recent fic "Samples". :)

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Nothing brought Kaz Brekker life quite like being paid to argue. And he was good at it, which was why he could charge these student athletes afraid of losing their scholarships two hundred bucks an essay without even flinching. If a more delightful way to make money existed, he had not found it yet.

He was spending his Saturday the way he usually spent Saturdays: rounding out a conclusion to a paper arguing for the death penalty, for a pre-law class he’d never take and a trust-fund upperclassman he’d hopefully never meet. In a few hours, he could drop the doc in a secure server and wait for the Venmo alert that he’d been paid. Nothing was sweeter.

Well. One thing was sweeter.

Inej was in the beat-up old recliner beside him in his and Jesper’s little living room of their third-floor off-campus apartment. This was the best way to spend a Saturday. She was sitting cross-legged and practically drowning in oversized sweats, her raven-black hair piled on top of her head while she hunched over her MacBook. And she was wearing those thick-rimmed, blue-blocker glasses Matthias Helvar had convinced her she needed (which, of course, had nothing to do with the fact that he was being paid to promote them on his stupid Instagram, that douchebag). Kaz had cringed both internally and externally when she’d told him she’d bought a pair, but now he was seeing the merit, because, dear God, was she adorable in glasses. They were awakening strange and powerful urges every time he glanced over at her. If she held them in between her teeth while undoing her hair, he was going to have to leave the room.

Because the terrible reality was that Inej had had a rough go of it her freshman year at Ketterdam University. And even though they were sort of together now (Kaz was pretty sure they were?), the last thing Inej needed right now was to be over-sexualized – for anything. Including those really fucking cute glasses.

“I’m starving,” Jesper declared from his prone position on the floor. He had been propped up on a bunch of faded pillows between them, engrossed in shooting undead things on their Xbox. His boyfriend Wylan had spent most of the afternoon napping against his shoulder, but was now blinking awake like a blue-eyed baby owl at Jesper’s sudden announcement.

“I could eat,” Wylan yawned with a lazy stretch.

“Inej? You?” Jesper reached up to tug on Inej’s sock.

“Hm?” Inej looked up from her laptop like she was emerging from a cave while she gnawed on one of the strings of her sweatshirt. It had been like this since The Incident – Jesper and Nina often took turns making sure she would eat. (Kaz had it covered, but that was all right. The back-up couldn’t hurt.)

“Food? Are you hungry?” Jesper repeated, the unspoken question floating in the air: Have you eaten today?

Inej blinked a few times as she thought, her dark eyes flitting back and forth between Jesper and her laptop screen. Kaz knew this internal war well – the age-old taking care of one’s needs versus the siren-song of wreaking endless revenge.

Inej had come to Ketterdam University on a gymnastics scholarship, but that had fallen by the wayside – ever since The Incident. The night everything changed.

Kaz didn’t know Inej Ghafa all that well before it happened – had taken a few classes with her, studied for an exam with her once. She’d been eternally sunshiney, the kind of girl he knew wouldn’t waste her time on dark things like him.

But then she’d started missing classes.

And then showing up to class visibly drowning beneath the weight of sleeplessness and oversized clothes.

And he didn’t really know her but it had bothered him all the same. It was like watching a star collapsing in on itself.

And that’s when the story of The Incident hit the news cycle. From the moment he read the first headline, Kaz couldn’t stop scrolling, growing sicker and sicker in the pit of his stomach.

She’d gone to a party at a frat house with a new friend. (Kaz had even been there before, maybe even the night it happened. Frat parties were veritable breeding grounds for potential clients – full of rich, connected kids too drunk or stoned to be bothered by classwork and crooked enough to pay someone else to do it.) It was suspected that someone had slipped something in her drink, and it was known that the friend who’d brought her there had been entirely useless. Inej had woken up the next morning, half-naked on the lawn, crude drawings in Sharpie all over her, and no knowledge of what had transpired that had left her there.

It should have ended there – that was bad enough. But then the frat boys had started posting the videos of what had happened that night. How she had been used. How she had been touched.

If Inej’s parents were going to have their way, someone was going to jail. If Kaz was going to have his way, someone was going to suffer all the way there.

After he’d learned the news, he’d found her the next day before class started, where she was at the back of the room, hunched over her desk with her hood up. She’d shot daggers at him with her eyes when he approached. He’d liked that.

“I’d like to help you ruin them,” he’d told her. Inej’s glare didn’t relent as she sized up him – his black attire, the leather gloves that clenched his gleaming cane. He usually made a point of looking like the sort of person who ruined things. Nobody bullied a boy with a cane if it looked like that same boy could take your head off with said cane.

Inej seemed to agree that he looked like he could fit the bill. And they began to plot – how to expose her abusers, how to alert every girl they ever came into contact with, how to ruin every single party they would ever throw.

And somewhere along the way, it had turned into…something. Kaz wasn’t sure what to call it. But he couldn’t call it nothing – not when Inej regularly stayed the night in their apartment and did soft things like run her hand over his chest if she liked the jacket he was wearing or blush and smile if she caught him looking at her. He’d even really gone out on a limb one night and told her he liked her, and she’d said it back. He wasn’t sure where that left them at this point. Somewhere, he guessed, with something.

“I’ll eat,” Inej was agreeing, albeit with a bit of reluctance to leave her laptop. She was elbows-deep in a catfishing scheme Kaz had concocted for their latest victim.

“Nina wants us to meet up with her and Matthias at The Sweet Shop,” Wylan said, who was catching up on the texts he’d missed while napping on Jesper.

“I swear, Nina could lure a polar bear into the jungle,” Jesper sighed next to him, because it was a little miraculous to think Matthias Helvar, fitspo Instagram model and purveyor of all things organic and natural, had somehow been corralled into a bakery cafe. Kaz was surprised that Matthias even looked at carbs, let alone consumed them.  

And, even though he was pressed for time on the illicit essay he was writing, Kaz needed food, too. He and Inej both could use the time away from their questionable dealings online.

The Sweet Shop was within walking distance, but it had begun to rain, cold and foggy, over Ketterdam. So, the four of them piled into Kaz’s beat up black Chevy and rolled into town behind the rhythmic beating of the windshield wipers.

“Over here!” Nina waved to them, beaded bracelets rattling in a stack on her wrist, from the far corner as the bakery’s front door swung closed behind them, tripping a jingling brass bell pinned to the doorframe.

The Sweet Shop was a popular spot for the more bookish crowds to crash on the weekends, load up on starchy foods and coffee while rattling out papers on their laptops or flirting under the guise of study groups. Kaz wouldn’t go so far as to call them his type of people, but he was certainly more at home here than the drunken soirees where he spent his evenings fleecing the debauched children of alumni. Here, there were people crowded over old tables with their books, and well-worn leather sofas and faded overstuffed chairs in the corner lined with secondhand books and used board games that were almost always missing pieces. The air smelled like espresso and cupcakes and old pages, and if Matthias Helvar was going to sulk about the lack of kale on the menu, Kaz might have to punch him in the face.

Matthias was already nursing a colorful smoothie while Nina sat next to him on the old leather sofa, her long, shapely legs draped over his and a stack of sugared waffles on the coffee table in front of her.

“Took you long enough!” Nina was scolding as the four of them weaved through tables to the corner of sofas and chairs. “Do none of you check your phones on weekends?”

“A technology fast is very cleansing for our auras,” Matthias countered, with a sage look – Matthias, the self-proclaimed Instagram influencer. Kaz rolled his eyes.

“That almost sounded like real words, Matthias – good job,” Jesper smirked, as he perched on the arm of the chair where Wylan had flopped down. Matthias opened his mouth to retort something, but --

“I was just distracted, sorry,” Inej intervened with an apology to Nina and a sheepish look. (She thankfully was no longer wearing her blue-blockers or it might have been too sweet even for a place called The Sweet Shop.)

“And I was just ignoring you,” Kaz said with a shrug. Inej gave him an exasperated whack in the arm as he sat next to her on an old loveseat, resting his cane against one side, and Nina let out a put-out huff.

“Wylan’s the only considerate one among you,” she complained.

“Yes, that is true,” Jesper agreed, and Wylan grinned widely with his chin propped up on his fist.

“We wanted you here because,” And Nina drew out the because like she had something grand to follow it, “Matthias landed a sweet sponsorship yesterday, and he wants to buy us all lunch!”

Kaz and Jesper groaned in unison, loud enough it couldn’t quite be drowned out by Inej and Wylan’s congratulations. Matthias got particularly insufferable after new sponsorships – there would be strings attached to this.

“That’s very nice of you, Matthias,” Inej said, pointedly, glaring at Kaz.

“It is very nice of you, Matthias, to offer to buy us all strawberry ice cream smoothies like yours,” Kaz said, with an evil glint in his eye as he nodded to the large pink cup in Matthias’ hand.

Matthias gave an uneasy laugh.

“There’s no ice cream in this,” he said, then paused when he noticed Nina’s tight-lipped, icy stare boring into Kaz’s skull. Then his brow cinched up and looked down at his cup. “There isn’t ice cream in this, right, babe?”

“It’s not going to kill you,” Nina replied with an eye roll.

“Babe! You know I can’t do dairy right now! Tomorrow’s Six-Pack Sunday!”

There was no point in trying to stop it: a laugh in the form of a long snort rolled out of Kaz while Jesper and Wylan dissolved into a fit of giggles. Now Kaz remembered -- this is why they kept Matthias around.

“You don’t understand,” Matthias was trying to say. “It can take a whole week to detox and lose the bloat.”

“I’ll finish it for you, you big baby,” said Nina, and snatched the smoothie away from a panicked Matthias.

“I should start running laps now,” he was fretting.

“Make some food runs for us – that’s a start,” Jesper supplied, looking helpful.

“Good call,” Matthias nodded, and hopped to his feet, nearly dumping Nina onto the floor in the process. “Orders? Orders?” He looked to each of them, ready to leap into action and start fighting off the bloat.

He’d gathered up their orders and made a beeline for the counter when Nina turned to Inej.

“You had me worried, you know.” Nina leaned out a little over her knees toward her roommate. “You were just distracted?”

Kaz glanced in Inej’s direction in time to see how she swallowed hard. She’d stuffed her hands deep in her hoodie pockets. Kaz knew the reaction all too well -- what it was like to withdraw and fight to make yourself untouchable, even to those who loved you.

“Just a lot of work lately,” Inej said. And Nina slid a suspicious glance toward Kaz, as if waiting for him to explain himself and what he was getting the two of them into now.

But it had always been Inej’s decision, how she wanted to handle her own revenge. Kaz was only providing tools. He hadn’t answered for her yet, and he wasn’t about to start now.

Nina sighed.

“I just don’t want to see anyone hurt anymore,” she said. The brass bell over the front door jingled again.

“That’s not--”

But Inej stopped short when she glanced toward the sound of the bell. She barely moved, but Kaz could sense her growing rigid next to him. And something about it made the hair on the back of his neck prickle.

He followed her gaze to two boys who were now slouching toward the front counter. Kaz had seen them both before; he was pretty sure he’d written a biology research paper for the one with the pug-nose. They were both tall and conventionally good-looking – the sort you probably didn’t think twice about. Well-muscled, expensive haircuts, brand name sneakers.

Beside him, Inej had started breathing weird.

“Fuck.” Nina had noticed her staring, too, and suddenly all pairs of eyes in the corner were watching the newcomers at the front of The Sweet Shop with murder in their hearts.

Because these two bastards had been there the night of The Incident.

Kaz found himself wondering which one he could make cry first. Probably the bulkier one -- he looked soft and dumb around the edges. His mom probably still did his laundry on the weekends and called his professors when he didn’t get good grades. Kaz wanted to see him cry until snot dribbled down his sweaty face and –

“We should go,” Inej said, abruptly. She was looking pale and shaky, and her eyes darted around as if she needed to gather belongings, even though she’d brought none. Kaz had started to grip the head of his cane, tighter, tighter, tighter.

“Fuck no.” Nina was adamant and fiery, bless her. “We got here first – they can leave.” And then a little louder. “They should be in jail, frankly!”

“Nina!” Inej hissed, and her hand flew to curl against the side of her face when the boys looked their direction. Her eyes were wide and terrified when she looked over to Kaz.

“I want to go,” she told him, and that was all she needed to say. He pushed his weight onto his cane, hoisting himself to his feet.

“Don’t worry, girl – we got you,” Jesper was confirming, and, without even needing to consult each other, he and Wylan and Nina had Inej surrounded from sight on their walk to the door, Kaz at the front.

And it almost worked, too.

“Brekker!” Until one of the boys recognized him and gave him with a jovial grin. Shit. “Hey, it’s Brekker!” The stupid kid with the pug nose gave Kaz a hearty slap on his shoulder, and it took every ounce of restraint in him to not break the dude’s wrist.

“This kid got me an B+ on my bio term paper,” the kid was telling his bulky friend, and then with a shady-ass side smirk, he added: “Wasn’t totally the A I’d paid for, but that was still awesome, bro.”

“With your GPA, an A would have been too suspicious.” Why was Kaz even defending himself to this turd? He made to shove past, to head for the door.

But that kid was still gripping his shoulder. Like he wanted Kaz to remove it from its socket. Like maybe he was just asking for it. Kaz ground his teeth, trying to maintain his resolve. He wasn’t going to do this in front of Inej. He was going to be better than this for her.

“Bro,” the human pile of excrement still touching him was saying, “I’ve been meaning to text you. I have this world religions class this semester that is just killer, and I--”

“Your next words had better be how you’re doing your own damn work from now on.”

A simple “No” would have sufficed, Kaz realized, but his girl was in some kind of state because of this waste of carbon and his patience had never been plentiful to begin with.

Besides, the kid didn’t strike him as the type who understood simple “No”s. He was going to have to make it really fucking clear for this idiot.

Sure enough, the kid blinked hard, like he’d been slapped.

“I paid you, bro,” he said, dumbly.

“Oh, he did not just--” Nina started from the back of their bunch.

“Call me ‘bro’ one more time,” Kaz dared him, his eyes narrowing.

“What the hell, man?” said the thoroughly confused bulky friend.

“Kaz, just leave it,” Inej said, softly, and she slipped her fingers into the crook of Kaz’s elbow. “Let’s just go.”

A wave of recognition spread over the pug-nosed douchebag’s face at the sight of her. It was sickening, the surprised rise of his eyebrows, the smug, amused smirk on his lips. Kaz wanted to rip them right off his face.

“Oh, I see how it is,” the dick was saying. “You’re with this bitch--”

That’s when Kaz felt something snap. Oh, he was dead now.

“Kaz!” Inej shouted a warning, but it was already too late. With the cane between his two gloved hands, Kaz rammed his weight into this dead man walking. He threw the kid against the front door, the brass bell jingling as the shades on the window rattled in the scuffle.

“That’s my girlfriend, dipshit,” Kaz snarled.

Kaz was vaguely aware that there was a rising commotion around him, a crescendo of clashing panic and rage. His hand had found its way to the dude’s collar, throttling him; Nina was shouting something at Matthias somewhere behind him; chairs were scuffling about against the floor. But Kaz’s sole focus now was on making this heinous little fucker wet his pants.

“Kaz. The door.” Jesper’s clear-headed voice cut through the blinding wrath, and Kaz was somehow thinking clearly enough to gather his meaning and wrenched the kid away from the front door just long enough for Jesper to shove an arm through and open it.

And Kaz threw the pug-nose brat out into the rain ahead of them. The kid hit the pavement, hard, and scrambled back.

“Dude, you’ve got it all wrong if you think she’s the victim here,” the useless piece of flesh was sniveling. His nose was bleeding – pathetic, Kaz had barely hit him.

“I really think I don’t,” Kaz disagreed, thoughtfully.

“We could have you arrested!” the bulky child was screeching. Kaz turned just in time to see Matthias literally chuck the kid out after them, red-face and snarling. And Kaz had to hand it to him – even with his dairy intolerance, Matthias Helvar could toss frat kids with the best of them.

“Oh, please file a police report about this,” Kaz sneered at them. The wind and the rain were beating back his dark hair and flapping the collar of his black jacket, but he didn’t care. “I would absolutely love to know how you plan on explaining why you called my girlfriend a bitch.”

“Man, it is not my fault your girl can’t handle her liquor.”

CRACK. Kaz barely had time to blink, and Matthias had straight up decked the kid right in his jaw. Nina was rolling up her sleeves, ready to destroy the other one in the pelting rain.

“Hey!” The teenager in a green apron who’d been running the cash register was running out after them, holding a phone over her head. “I’m gonna call the cops if you don’t clear out!”

And when Kaz looked back at Inej, there were tears welling in her eyes even though her jaw was set firm. From the looks on the faces of the rest of his friends, they’d all noticed, too.  

So, it fizzled out before it even really began.

The frat boys had slunk off in the rain, and the six of them regrouped and sauntered back to Kaz’s car in silence. Jesper, Nina, and Matthias piled into the back seat, while Inej and Wylan squeezed into the front. And then an uncomfortable stillness descended.

Inej had pulled her hood up again when Kaz turned the key in the ignition, her arms tight in her sleeves. Every once and awhile, she’d sniffle as quietly as she could as the car ride seemed to drag on – but Kaz knew. Everyone knew. That had been awful. And it still felt awful. Kaz’s head was starting to swirl, his wracked nerves still buzzing. He shouldn’t have done it. He hadn’t wanted to do it, not really. And she’d told him she wanted to leave – she’d said it clear as day. And he’d said…oh God, what had he said? What had he done?

Kaz’s stomach was starting to lurch. He’d said a lot of things. Way too many fucking things. Things they hadn’t discussed yet. Things he’d clearly just assumed. What had he done?

“We really should cleanse this negative energy.” Goddamn Matthias was the first one to break the pervasive silence, and he was choosing to break it with this nonsense. Kaz’s glare drifted to the rear view mirror. “I have some sound healing bowls back at my place that are--”

“I swear to God, Helvar,” Kaz snapped, “if you break out even one sound healing bowl, I will make you wear it like a helmet and then drop kick you into the sun.”

In the rear view mirror, Kaz could see Matthias’ nostrils flaring.

“You are such an unbalanced piece of shit sometimes, you know that--?” But Matthias stopped short because Inej had let out a surprising chuckle. Kaz slowly let himself glance her direction – so did everyone else.

She was smirking up at Kaz.

“I just think it’s thoughtful of you to make sure his head is protected before you launch him into space,” she shrugged. Wylan barked out a laugh.

“I just think they should kiss already,” Nina added, waggling an eyebrow at a brooding Matthias, and then Jesper started to laugh, too, which really was the most infectious of laughs. Even Kaz was smiling after a moment – just a little.

Though that faded entirely when they pulled up to Kaz and Jesper’s apartment and Inej asked to speak with him alone in the car first.  

Shit, he thought. Shit. Here it is. He’d royally fucked it up now.

They waited in silence with the rain pouring over the car while the rest of their friends darted into the old Victorian home where Kaz and Jesper lived on the third floor. With each passing second, his stomach sunk lower into his guts. He wasn’t even sure he could form words in his brain, let alone with his mouth. He had no rational explanation for what had come over him back at The Sweet Shop, other than Here it is, Inej, I’m kind of a fucking disaster.

“So, that was…” Inej started, slowly. She was staring out the front window. Kaz felt like crumpling, and he hated it, hated how weak he felt. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I know, I know…” he muttered. He didn’t really, but he just wanted this to be over. If she never wanted to see him again, he needed her to rip the bandaid off quick.

“So, I’m your girlfriend now?”

Kaz couldn’t decipher her tone, and he couldn’t even look at her. He was just going to stare at the steering wheel until this was over.

But then Inej said: “I just would like to have known before the guys my parents are having investigated, that’s all.”

Kaz looked to her then, lifting his dark eyebrows slightly. She’d let her hair down from its knot before they’d left for the café – she’d braided it loose over her shoulder like he liked. She was twirling the ends now, a tired smile on her pink lips.

“If you want,” he said with a soft shrug. It wasn’t at all like the heroic way he thought she deserved to be swept off her feet. But she was still smiling all the same. It made him feel braver.

Funny – how throwing his weight around against perverts was as easy as breathing, but looking at her like this tore him apart.

“If you’ll have me,” he offered, even softer now.

And Inej reached across the distance between them. Laced her fingers over his, atop his knee.

“I will have you, Kaz Brekker,” she said, tenderly. It took him aback a bit. Made his breath catch. Made his throat sting.

“If I shouldn’t have--” he started to say of the row back at The Sweet Shop. But Inej cut him off instantly, shaking her head. Squeezing his fingers.

“You absolutely should have,” she said, firmly.  “And you should show me how, too.”

Kaz really raised his eyebrows at that. Inej smiled a little wider. His heart was lifting, lifting up and out of the certain doom he was sure it was about to face.

“Come on.” Inej tugged at his hand. “We’d better head up before Matthias starts culture appropriating all over your apartment.”

“You have to admit – he threw one hell of a punch, though,” Kaz pointed out, as he opened his door, and then wanted to punch himself for it. What the hell – was he defending Matthias Helvar now? This whole day was upside down.

Thankfully, there was a different kind of embarrassing going down in apartment number three when they finally made their way up. Kaz could hear it before he even made it to the top of the stairs – the loud, thumping bass, the voices shouting at the tops of their lungs.

Oh, their neighbors were going to love this. They were just making all kinds of new friends today.

When Inej opened the door, all four of their friends were dancing to Cardi B’s I Like It, blasting through Jesper’s bluetooth speaker. It took everything in Kaz to not physically recoil at the assault on his senses.

“Emergency dance party!” Jesper explained, yelling from behind Wylan.

“We’re clearing out the negative energy!” Nina shouted over the noise, her hands in the air. Matthias was jumping around behind her like an absolute madman. “But like in an acceptable way!”

“I think it’s working!” Wylan shouted at her in agreement, with Jesper’s hands on his hips.

They were all smiling.

And beside him, Inej burst out laughing – a wild, fluttery sound he’d heard only a few times before. It caught him right in the heart each time he had, and he knew he’d do anything to hear it as often as he could. He looked down at her and wondered, not for the first time, how she did it. How she managed to wring joy out of even the most dismal of circumstances.

It was something he needed more of – as long as she’d allow him to have it.

“Come on!” she was shouting to him as she took him by the hand. “You heard the man! Emergency dance party!”

And Kaz followed her in, shutting the door behind him.

---------------------------

Tagging: @annejulianneh111, @loveyatopluto, @ireallyshouldsleeprn, @whosanxiety, @raging-bisexual-alert,

[all-things-fic]

Finding out about Harry getting the movie role 🥺🥺🥺

No matter how many times you told him not to worry, he did.

You supposed it was only human nature. Everyone had a little worry from time to time. However, with Harry it always seemed to be tenfold.

He would channel his worry in many ways, depending on whatever news he was waiting for. Sometimes he would be deep and brooding, going into himself and becoming a one word answer kind of guy.

Other times he would busy himself with the most menial of tasks. That three mile run he had been putting off earlier in the week would now become between a five to seven mile run and something he absolutely had to do for his own benefit.

The list of groceries that you were going to go out for on Sunday - the ones stuck to your fridge - were now his responsibility to pick up when he went out on a petrol run to fill up his car (that he wasn’t going to drive considering he couldn’t really go anywhere in that present moment of time).

Or the song he had pencilled time in to finish now became important enough that he couldn’t wait for the studio time he had booked and his own recording outlet in the comfort of his home was more than enough to complete the job.

He’d had his deep and brooding moment at the beginning of the week, making it so you were lucky if you managed to get a grunt out of him. You rode that wave out together, neither a comment said from the other about arguably his childish display.

Part of you didn’t expect him to react in such a way. The tape he had sent weeks ago had been well received but he had been gently let down. Beaten by a better man. At first it stung, but it wasn’t like he would be down and out without the opportunity.

He took it on the chin. Brushed himself off and proudly stuck out his chest. Moved onto the next thing, just like before.

“‘S a bit shit but I’ll live,” he admitted, swallowing thickly before taking a larger pull from his wine than its predecessor, as he curled up with you on the couch in knackered old sweats that would’ve been worth binning because of how threadbare and hole-y they were.

His comment has been out of the blue, Harry choosing not to talk more about the situation after he had given you the news that he wasn’t the man for the role. Nonetheless you were ready to engage in the conversation now if it were needed.

“Not going to buy it off Sky movies when it finally appears on their listing though?”

“Absolutely fucking not.”

You’d laughed about it. Shared smiles over his whispered experience of recording an audition rather than entering a room and feeling clammy palms like he had done for previous opportunities that he had put himself forward for.

He had talked and talked about scenarios that you knew because you had experienced them with him too. About the line running and how much of a massive ballache it could be at times, invasive and often overbearing due to how all-encompassed he became. Still you let him speak as if these scenarios were new to your ears because somewhere inside you knew that was what he needed.

Then the moment was gone, and the train picked up steam for something else like it always did. Where he was jumping into a car and driving across Europe with his friends, promising you within his goodbye kisses that “‘s not just a piss up wi’the lads” and that he was actually going strictly for business.

And that was it.

You thought it was forgotten.

Pulled into a false sense of security when you savoured the way the world around you had made it so the two of you had time to really connect. To enjoy each other without the apologies around rushed kisses because he was being pulled away, again.

Hand movements slower as you undressed each other in the dusk of the evening or pitch black of the early hours rather than desperately seeking the missed feeling of warmed europhia. Basking in the beauty that came with sluggish pulls and desperate pleas.

That was until he was sitting at the table over breakfast, one bleak morning, hanging on to the words that had been shared between himself and his manager.

All of it fading so easily.

His face was pensive as he listened, free hand dropping his fork and moving to push through his bed head before the backs of his fingers roughly rubbed at the facial hair that was scattered along his jawline and cheeks.

You tried not to stare for too long, not wanting to be caught in your eagerness to eavesdrop. Hands somewhat shaky as they buttered at toast, and cut the crusty bread in half ready to bite into when you felt your hunger return.

The sugar of your tea wasn’t quite sweet enough, as you lifted your gaze to watch Harry continue to listen and sipped at the warm drink.

“Knew it had gone well but didn’t think it’d gone that well,” he replied to whatever Jeff or Alex, or some else, had been saying to him over the other end of the line.

Then his smile broke across his lips.

“She said that,” he paused, blowing out a huge breath of air partly from relief but also hearing such high praise. “‘S good, ‘s great even. Nice to hear.”

Something inside you knew he was gone. Already whisked off somewhere else in all but body. People around him putting him on flights to take him away from you, in clothes that didn’t fit but could be tailored to him to look like his second skin. Literally made for him.

His hair was bound to be the first thing to make him look less like your Harry, in a way that was odd to the eye but weirdly pleasing to your wildest imagination and deviant personality which was known to rear itself between the two of you from time to time.

The feeling, mixed with those sudden rush of thoughts, was only solidified when his eyes darted over towards you but moved away just as quickly.

“‘Ow am I feeling?” He looked at you again, this time met with your buttering your other slice of toast. “Like I’ve got some celebrating to do.”

Harry chuckled boisterously, clearly amused by what had been said to him over the other end of the line. It was enough to make him successful to catch your gaze once more. “Not quite cracked open the champagne yet, mate no. By the sounds of it think you’re doing that for the two of us.”

He paused, “Careful you don’t drink away your managerial cut of the opening weekend, ‘s only in pre-production.”

With a lick to his lips, Harry looked at you, a soft raise to his eyebrows when he saw the realisation lace your features and your eyes widened over at him. Then his lips smiled in the way that they had before when he must’ve received praise.

Only this time it was you and your admiration that he found himself enjoying.

A small bite down onto his bottom lip let you know he was shying away from feeling his full elation and letting you share in it too. You couldn’t stop yourself from removing the napkin from your lap and scrunching it against the dining table as you pushed out of your seat and walked around to him on the opposite side.

Remaining seated, Harry looked up at you as he switched the phone to the opposite side of his face and let your reach for him, encouraging his temple to fall against your stomach.

Fingers wove through his hair, not knowing if it was ever going to be this long again and your lips found the top of his head. Inhaling deeply you pressed a long kiss into his chestnut strands, haphazard but silky regardless of how unkempt he appeared. You whispered your words of congratulations to him so lowly that they were only shared between you whether a third party was still present on the phone.

His arm was wrapped around your waist, anchoring you to him and squeezing gratefully at the curve of your hips as you showered him with kisses.

“Call me later about all tha’,” he requested, lids hooded from the relaxing touch of your fingers. “‘S too early for logistics. ‘M going.”

Phone tossed to the table, Harry pushed back on his chair creating enough space to encourage you down onto his lap without much fight from you. He appreciated it, aware just as much as you that slow mornings like these were now going to happen no more than a handful of times for the rest of the year.

He embraced the way you fell against him, forehead against his temple and warm breath fanning against his cheek. One hand splayed out against your lower back while the other wrapped up and gently held your head against his.

You wanted him to hold you, just as much as you wanted to hold him. Legs heavy against his thighs and arms tight against the tops of his shoulders as your hands rubbed at the parts of his back that you could get to.

A stillness came over you that was heavy with emotion. Bittersweet.

Breathing deeply you had to let him know just how thrilled you were of all his successes. Lips gently gliding against his dribbled cheek, you found the shell of his ear and whispered, “If only you knew how fucking proud I am of you.”

His fingers that were buried into your locks, lightly scratched at the back of your head. A softly breathed chuckled omitting from his chest, “Haven't even told you I got it yet. Could be summat rubbish.”

“Don’t have to, can just tell,” you commented, pulling away and watching him tilt his head back to look at you with his hooded but shiny eyes and lopsided lips that danced with the softest of smiles.

You stayed quiet for a while as you gently ran your fingers over his features. He let you take your time, doing the same with just his eyes. Taking a breath he spoke in a soft tone, “How’d you know?”

“Less frowny, less grumpy man-child .”

“Hey,” he whined in response, quickly after. Face scrunching with his complaint. You breathed a laugh, leaning down to press a tender kiss to his lips which Harry only deepened. Pleased hum heard when you allowed him to do so.

Breaking your lips, you both lingered looking at each other through blurred vision and a mixture of squashed noses and deep breathing. Once his breath was caught Harry spoke his thanks softly in return.

“Does this mean said movie can go back onto my Sky Movies list to purchase when it becomes available?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”