#I’ve held onto this for a few weeks I might as well post it lol

[dahldahlbills]

he connected the dots

[lizzie-is-here]

like the dawn

part xiv- the calm before the storm

“one day, you and i are gonna wake up and be alright. maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but one day. one day, i promise you” - fisher amelie

summary: you, steve, and bucky take refuge in wakanda. but the next steps of your recovery are daunting.

wordcount: 3.6k

warnings: trauma, nightmares, steve feeing excluded once more, a brief allusion to sexy time, cliffhanger lmao

a/n: ok so originally this was a 15-part series, but i’ve extended it to 20 lol. hope y’all are still enjoying! and like i said last time, this series will likely be put on a brief hiatus soon so i can write my christmas series/thing! love y’all so much 🤍🤍🤍

taglist: @whelvedfeelingsstuff @sebsgirl71479 @rebloggingmyrecs @babyblublossom @local-mr-frog @thenyxsky @capsiclesdoll @moonlightreader649 @saranghaey @almosttoopizza @itsivymusic

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Once everything was settled, it was decided that the next best move would be to go to Wakanda. A road trip could be saved until after you got deprogrammed.

T’Challa was more than welcoming, promising that you would be allowed to freely travel the streets of Wakanda once your treatments were finished, and going even further to offer you a safe home at any time.

And Wakanda really was a safe haven. They’d escaped the oppression so common in the rest of the world, and had truly flourished in their hiding place. It was magical.

You had thanked him profusely, and had been led to meet the princess.

Shuri Udaku’s reputation preceded her. She held a record for the highest IQ in the world, and at 18 was running an entire country’s technological developments. And she was damn good at it, too.

“This is my lab,” she’d said, waving an arm out. It was still clean and organized, but lacked the cold-stone sterility of HYDRA. Colorful art decorated the walls, and a few messy post-it notes clung to the tables and chairs.

All the while, Steve was discussing with T’Challa exactly how the treatments would work.

Both of you would be put under, cryo-tubes coming in handy once more, but during your sleep, they would work their magic.

Something about this place was special, and Shuri was confident in her ability to pluck every trigger word from your head in the matter of a few weeks.

She gave you some clothes to change into, and when you returned, clad in white, she sat you down on a table.

The doctors were patient and far kinder than any you’d experienced, even before HYDRA. They didn’t look at you differently, only made polite conversation and explained every move they made.

You appreciated their warnings. They’d ask before touching you, and moved your wings around with delicate hands.

Now, you’re awaiting the final preparations for the cryo-tubes. These, which Shuri proudly presents, will make the process much more tolerable.

Rather than being shoved into a dirty tube and frozen in a painful and shocking process, she promises that these will lower the temperature in intervals of 12, as well as pumping in some nitrous oxide to relax you.

You sit next to Bucky, leaning on him as a doctor checks his pulse.

“How do you think Steve’ll do?” you whisper. You should only be under for a month, but you know it won’t be easy for him.

Bucky shrugs. “I think he’ll be okay. Might cry a bit.” You elbow him lightly. “But he’ll be alright,” he adds.

The blond comes over to the two of you.

“I can hear you, you know? Enhanced hearing and all that.” He taps his ear. You smile, taking his hand.

“I’ll be fine, promise,” he says, kissing your forehead. He does the same to Bucky.

“You sure about this?”

The brunet sighs. “I can’t trust my own mind. We can’t.” He chuckles, a sad smile making its way onto his face. “So until they get this stuff out of our heads…”

“…Going back under is the best thing,” you finish. “For everybody.”

“Maybe not for everybody,” Steve mumbles, and you catch on.

“Shuri said it’ll only be about a month.” You run a thumb along his knuckles. “We’ll be back soon, Stevie.”

As the three of you hug, you hear Bucky whisper to him.

“You aren’t losing us again, punk. We aren’t going anywhere.”

The king and princess approach, seemingly reluctant to split the three of you up.

“The cryo-tubes are ready when you are,” Shuri states. Her tone makes it clear. You can still back out.

But your brain has no qualms about reminding you of exactly what happens when The Angel of Death and the Winter Soldier take the lead.

A brief flash of Steve, bloodied and dying in the burning helicarrier is all you need to make your decision.

“We’re ready.”

Your chamber is noticeably larger, another kind consideration by the Wakandan team. You climb in on your own volition, merely helped along when you struggle to turn around.

You exchange a glance with Bucky before you both nod.

Shuri readies a tablet, and slowly slides her finger across the screen. A soft hissing sound comes from all around you, and goosebumps cover your arms in seconds.

A light, floating feeling settles in your mind, and you can hear your heart slowing, slowing, slowing.

This time, it just feels like going to sleep. No breath being stolen from your lungs or screaming until you pass out. Your eyes slowly shut and the last things you see are your boys.

It’s the most quiet that your mind has been in 70 years.

———————————————————————

“I’m gonna lose it. Shit, what if something goes wrong, and they wake up as-“ Steve can’t even bring himself to think the words. He’s been pacing for what feels like forever. It’s been too quiet without you two, and when he finally couldn’t handle it, he gave in and called the team.

“They’ve come so far, and if they get set back… they won’t be able to live with themselves,” he rambles.

“Not to mention that I haven’t slept in bed alone in, what?” The blond captain counts the weeks. “Two months! Two months, and now they’re just-“

From the FaceTime call, Natasha’s eye twitches.

“Rogers,” she begins, exasperated beyond belief. “It has been. One. Hour.” She claps to emphasize her point. “They have been under. For. ONE. Hour.”

Ok, she has a point there. More than a point, honestly.

Steve knows he looks crazy. Probably is crazy. And it’s impossible to miss how the doctors glance worriedly at him every so often.

No, he hasn’t left the lab. The team is too nice to ask him to stop sadly staring at his best friends and lovers in the cryo-tubes.

“Get your star-spangled ass out of that lab, Cap,” Tony says through a mouthful of cereal. “You’re in the most technologically-advanced country in the world.”

Steve can hear Peter as the teen cuts in.

“Well, Mr. Stark, I don’t think he’s that interested in seeing more tech he isn’t familiar with.”

“Was that a burn?” Sam. “I’ll count it. You did good, kid.”

Steve can’t help but smile when they devolve into bickering, and the phone is forgotten on the dinner table shortly afterwards.

“Bye, guys, I’ll call again later,” he calls. A few people respond before he hangs up.

“Guess I should get out of here,” he says to himself.

You and Bucky look so peaceful, though.

Clad in white, Bucky looks so different. He’s stuck with dark colors, mostly to blend in but also out of habit. But the white looks good. It looks ethereal.

And as cliche as it is, the only word he can conjure up to describe you is angelic. The fluff of your feathers cradles you as you sleep. You’re so still. But you look content.

Steve’s never looked so stressed. He lost you both so long ago, and found you and lost you and found you all over again. He can’t handle this.

And it’s only been an hour.

———————————————————————

As talented as Shuri is, the super-soldier serum bests her tech occasionally.

Every so often, in intervals you aren’t sure of, you gain enough consciousness to hear through the cryo-sleep.

Most of the time, it’s just doctors taking notes, or Shuri mildly commenting about how she has to fix another “broken white boy”.

But today, you can hear Steve. No one else is around.

“Hey, (Y/N). Hey, Buck.” The sound of a stool being dragged over and a notebook being opened makes its way to you.

“I know I’ve been visiting all the time, but I needed to talk.”

“These past weeks have been hard. I… I miss you.” He pauses. “But Shuri’s been digging through those files you gave her. And some of the stuff in there…”

Steve wishes he hadn’t looked in that box. The detailed notes describing exactly how they broke you down and destroyed you until you caved.

They started with the experiments. Hours of being strapped to a table and injected with foreign needles.

Then they trained you. Taught you exactly where to strike to kill and where to strike to wound. How to use every weapon under the sun and exactly which ones did the most damage in your hands.

Then the brainwashing. That chair. Steve had to stop reading when the files began to describe how you’d screamed and begged to not go back into that room after your first session.

But you didn’t go down easily. You fought for twenty years. In and out of cryo-freeze, you fought them tooth and nail and gave them more hell than they had ever expected.

But they won. And now you ended up here.

“I just want to keep you two safe. And I know you don’t need it. But you did the same for me.”

“Captain Rogers?” T’Challa’s voice is far away, and even Steve’s voice is beginning to fade away.

You hear them leave, and then it’s just darkness again.

———————————————————————

It’s another two weeks -longer than predicted- when you’re taken out of cryo-freeze.

Bucky’s let out first, and Sam gets a sore stomach from laughing over the phone when the former assassin falls flat on his face getting out- right in front of the camera.

Your boys decide to not let you suffer the same fate, and are there to catch you when you realize that your legs don’t quite work right after a month and a half frozen.

Steve takes the role of mama bird in an instant. “How d’you feel, sweetheart? Wings sore? Want a blanket?”

You yawn, wings stretching and shaking off the little bits of frost that accumulated on them. “‘M alright. Tired. Cold.”

Bucky brushes away ice crystals, equally as cold but more concerned about you. “Let’s get checked out and then we can head outside, thaw out a bit?”

Shuri is speedy and gentle in her assessment. She moves around the lab with a distinct intuition of where every tool she needs sits. It reminds you of Tony.

She carefully extends your wing, maneuvering it slowly.

“These are amazing,” she gushes. “The way the lightweight bone grafts to the original, the feather pattern is-“

“Shuri,” T’Challa chides. She rolls her eyes with a smile, obliging anyway.

“Take it easy,” she says to you and Bucky. “Just because you’re super-soldiers doesn’t mean you can go throw yourselves at the nearest training room. Your bodies need time to recover, and so do your minds.”

“So, are they… gone?” Bucky asks. The Winter Soldier. The Angel. It’s almost too much to hope for.

The princess takes a deep breath before shrugging. “We won’t know until we can test the trigger words.”

At your visible apprehension, she holds out her hand.

“It will be done in a safe area, supervised by the Dora Milaje themselves. Two weeks from now should be plenty of time to recover.” She passes over two bracelets.

“Kimoyo beads. They will take you to your temporary home, allow communication, and really anything you need.” She proudly points to them.

You know she’s probably tired of how many times you’ve thanked her, but you do so anyways. Following her instructions, you, Steve, and Bucky begin to head through the city.

Steve watches the way you and Bucky interact with the crowd. He’s been treated with awe and prestige ever since he came out of the ice. People ask for his autograph and pictures.

The same people have only looked at you two with disdain.

But the people here aren’t afraid. They smile at you in the street and offer samples of food. A woman holds up a delicate lattice of gold chains, gesturing to your wings.

“I don’t have money, or anything to trade-“ you begin. She shakes her head and drapes it over the tops of your wings. It sits nicely, though probably designed for the shoulders. She shoos you away with a knowing grin.

“Look at you, all dolled up,” Steve laughs. You blush, shoving him.

“Oh, hush, Mr. Star-Spangled Man with a Plan. Get us home.”

The home in question is a comfortable hut. Far enough away from the city for some peace, but close enough to walk easily.

Inside, you find a small kitchen, a large bed on the wood floor, and a small shower and bathroom blocked off by a curtain. Despite the humble appearance, you find that there’s hidden tech in every corner.

The carved wooden sink runs with perfectly cold water, the small fireplace is in perfect condition. Even the curtain covering the entrance, upon further inspection, is found to be sewn with vibranium thread.

You lay down on the bed, sprawling out and shaking away the last chills. Your boys are quick to join you.

Steve lays beside you, while Bucky happily drops his head onto your stomach.

“Miss us, Stevie?” the latter asks.

“So much.”

At his tone, you pause. “You weren’t alone this whole time, were you?”

The silence that follows is telling.

“The team visited a few times,” he says, immediately jumping to do some damage control as the two of you frown. “But it was mostly just me.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, kissing his cheek.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry about,” he promises.

Bucky fiddles with the kimoyo beads. “We’ll make it up to you.”

Extending a pinkie, you listen as the Border Tribe finishes up their evening patrol. They sound the horns, and silence follows.

Your boys link pinkies, and everything is peaceful.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

———————————————————————

True to your word, you and Bucky spent the next few days making up your lost time to Steve.

Days were spent exploring Wakanda and its culture, and nights were spent huddled up in your hut, often with the curtains tightly shut and with hushed whispers exchanged in the darkness. Well, sometimes they weren’t exactly whispers.

The market was a common day trip, buying fruit or just frivolous items. You bought more jewelry for your wings under Steve’s encouragement, adorning a few of the ink black feathers with gold rings and charms.

But you wouldn’t use your powers. Besides healing a few bumps and bruises on the local kids that loved to play around the hut, you’d avoided casting even the smallest ball of light.

A part of you feared that, if you used them, it would awaken the Angel. The two were intertwined, in your eyes. One couldn’t happen without the other stirring to life.

You dreaded that two-week mark. So did Bucky. The few nights leading up to it were peppered with nightmares and restlessness.

“I can’t hurt anyone else,” Bucky had sobbed late one night, clinging to Steve as you prepared some tea. He’d woken all of you up in a violent nightmare, screaming and tangling himself in the covers. “I need to go back under, I-“

“What you need to do is breathe,” Steve had urged. “You’re alright. The Dora Milaje will be there, and they won’t let you hurt a fly. Besides, Shuri was almost sure her treatment worked.”

“I can’t trust ‘almost’,” he’d pleaded.

As you watched them, you’d had a moment of forgetfulness and had touched the searing kettle. Wincing, you flung your hand back, watching as the blistering receded in seconds.

Carefully lifting the teapot, you’d poured a cup and offered it to Bucky, running a hand through his hair.

“I know you’re worried, I am too.” Sighing, you plucked a bit of grass from your wing. “But we need to trust Shuri’s work. It’ll be ok. We can’t just go into cryo forever, love.”

It had been twenty minutes before you lulled him to sleep, and another thirty before Steve joined him.

But you’re too anxious to go to bed. Sneaking out of the hut, you stare out into the darkness. Some goats bleat, evidently disturbed by you.

“Oh, hush,” you whisper. “I’m just going for a fly.”

The goats don’t respond, blinking lazily. One bleats and bumps his feeding trough.

“No. The last time I got near you-“ You point at the goat, tone becoming accusatory. “-you tried to eat my feathers.”

He gives up, turning back to the covered area of his pen. Turning your focus back to the path in front of you, you stretch a bit, preparing for the flight.

You take a running start, barefoot as the soft earth slowly recedes from beneath you. Leaping up, you rise, powerful flaps propelling you skyward.

There’s no clouds tonight. Just stars and the bright lights of the city a bit of a ways away.

You veer towards the skyscrapers. It’s a few minutes before you’re in the heart of the city, narrowly turning between buildings and enjoying the cool air.

The lights dance in shimmering colors, and a few buildings have music pouring out of their doors. It’s lively, even this late.

You hear it before you see it. A soft thrumming from behind you. You flip over, slowing down until you’re upright.

It’s a hover bike, you think. When it gets closer, you recognize the rider.

“Princess,” you greet.

Shuri waves you off, chuckling at the formal greeting.

“You’re out late,” she comments.

“Could say the same about you.”

She shrugs. “Needed to clear my head. You, too?”

You nod. She leans on the handlebars, unfazed by the 300-foot drop.

“Are you nervous for tomorrow night?” The assessment. The trigger words.

“A bit,” you admit. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, or the Dora-“

“You don’t trust yourself.” You pause. She raises a brow.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” you say. “Bucky and I- we don’t want to hurt anyone. We’ve done enough of that.”

Instead of offering pity, or a sympathetic glance, Shuri nods.

“I get that. But it’s not your fault.” There it is. You’ve heard those words so many times. But it felt like you, you were there, so it had to be your fault.

The princess continues. “I don’t mean that just to make you feel better. I mean, mentally, psychologically, it wasn’t you.”

She presses the bike forward, fast enough for you to comfortably fly beside her.

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“The Angel of Death and the Winter Soldier aren’t you. You are your memories and experiences. Really, a person is their brain and consciousness. The body’s just a tool to keep you alive.”

“So, HYDRA took away the memories and experiences. They took away you. And in your place, they trained someone else with what was left. Just the fact that you’re worried about hurting people because that’s what the Angel did proves that you aren’t her.”

“I know you’ve heard it many times. I heard it when my Baba died. I’d thrown myself into my work, blamed myself for not creating a better suit for him.”

She lands the hover bike, and only then do you realize she took you back to the hut. The sun’s beginning to rise.

“But it wasn’t your fault. Really. Truly.”

You can’t come up with an argument. You chuckle, shaking your head. “You’ve got me there, Princess.”

She smiles. “I’ll see you soon?”

You nod. “Yeah. Tonight.”

And she’s gone. Speeding off far faster than her mother and brother would approve of.

“(Y/N)?”

Your boys are peeking out of the hut, confused and squinting in the growing light.

“Was that Shuri?” Steve asks.

“Yeah. Went for a fly, and she ran into me. Talked for a bit.”

You greet them both with a kiss, sighing into the feeling as the sun warms your feathers.

Bucky wraps an arm around you, clearly still just as worried as he was an hour or so ago.

“Tonight?” he asks.

You and Steve nod. There’s no postponing this, no outrunning it. Shuri was adamant that two weeks was the ideal period.

So two weeks it was.

———————————————————————

The trek up the hill was much worse than the weeks leading up to it. Rocky ledges offered little purchase, and moss caused your feet to slip every so often.

You used your wings to boost you and you went, charms jingling in your feathers. You’re accompanied by Ayo, an experienced Dora Milaje, and Steve.

The blond wasn’t supposed to join you. But she found it hard to deny his wounded puppy look when she tried to pull you and Bucky away.

“We’re nearly there,” Steve assures, traversing the steep rocks. You jump up a ledge, wings flapping wildly as you correct your balance.

There, in a clearing, is a campfire. It’s small, unassuming.

Ayo vaults up behind you with her spear. She gestures to the ground.

Once Bucky makes it up the hill, he sits with you. You take his hand, nodding in reassurance.

“Sergeant Barnes?” Ayo calls. “It’s time”

Bucky takes a deep breath, and you can practically feel the weight in his chest. His metal arm recalibrates, buzzing as the nerves fire rapidly.

“You sure about this?”

The warrior doesn’t back down. “I won’t let you hurt anyone.” Stepping closer, she begins.

“Желание, Ржавый, Семнадцать.” Her voice is quiet, but the words bury in your soul.

“It’s not gonna work,” Bucky whimpers. You almost reach for his hand again, but you know you have to let him do this.

Ayo pauses, but continues. “Рассвет, Печь, Девять, Добросердечный.”

You can see him struggling, fighting off the Soldier. When you glance over to Steve, he looks about ready to spring over and cover the brunet’s ears.

“Возвращение на Родину, Один, Товарный ваго.”

The last word is said, and it’s still Bucky in front of you. The exhale that follows his realization is broken, punctuated by silent sobs.

“You are free,” Ayo smiles.

Steve hurries over, embracing him and turning to you. You know it’s your turn. And if it worked for Bucky, it had to work on you, right?

Right?

[bestiesenpai]

Neophyte - Gojo Satoru

I shall feed you lol and here is the post they’re talking about, in case anyone would like context

Content warning: dumb inexperienced reader, age gap, almost exclusive usage of ‘little girl’ (reader still 18+ of course lads), uh losing virginity, spitting as well...oh and squirting too

Two weeks. That’s how long they said they’d be gone for, and although you were old enough to be on your own, your parents insisted on getting you a babysitter.

“Bye you two! We’ll call when we make it to the hotel!” Your mother shouted from the backseat of the car.

“Make sure (Y/N) doesn’t stay up too late, her sleep schedule is already bad as it is!” Your father added, loading up the bags in the back of the taxi. He chuckled when you groaned, and he sat in the car.

“Bye!” Waving goodbye, you watched them speed off into the evening sky, the sunset painting a pretty picture for their departure.

“Alright, first order of business: ordering some food!” Gojo announced, pulling his phone out of his pocket and walking to the front door. “What do you want, (Y/N)? I’m feeling like having pizza.”

“Pizza is fine.” Trailing after him, you tried not to let your gaze settle on him for too long. You didn’t hate having Gojo staying over, it was quite the opposite. You wanted nothing more than to run your hands through his crazy hair and have him kiss you senseless and there were plenty of nights you lied awake thinking about him with an ache between your legs, and it would only get worse as the days went by.

“Here’s to our first night together!” Gojo cheered, clinking his beer can against your soda. Leaning back in his chair, he took a massive bite of his pizza, making you laugh at how his cheeks puffed out. Your eyes wandered down to his beer, and you suddenly had a question.

“Gojo, can I try your beer?”

“Hm? You sure?” Lifting up the can with the edges of his fingers, he turned it over in his hand. “Why would a little girl want to try something like this?” A subtle heat rose to your cheeks, getting warmer when his eyes looked at yours.

“I’m just curious. Please?” Stretching your hand out, Gojo lets you take the can from him.

“Alright, but not too much.” He warned. Leaning back in his chair, a smirk spread across his face. The smell wafting up from the can was enough to give you pause, but you tipped your head back and drank anyway.

“Ew!” Curling your lip away as soon as the taste coated your tongue, you held it out for Gojo to take back. His laughter filled the air, getting even louder watching you chug your soda to rid yourself of the taste.

“Not your favorite?” He chuckles, taking a sip.

“No.” Shaking your head, a shiver rips through you. “How can you like that stuff?”

“When you’re a grown up, you’ll understand.”

“But I am grown up.” Gojo ignores your statement with another chuckle and a bite of his food.

Once dinner is over, it’s time for a movie. It’s Gojos idea, he wants you two to get comfortable with each other, after all he will be staying in your guest bedroom. He even went out for a quick run to the convenience store to grab you ice cream and a few treats to eat. Letting you pick the movie, he lounges on the end of the couch in a pair of breezy shorts, legs stretched out far and another beer in his hand.

Quietly eating the snacks he gave you, you keep your body curled up on the other end of the couch. You’d both changed into more comfortable clothing, and while you were fully clothed, it made a strange feeling bubble inside you to wear such short shorts near him. You had no problem wearing these shorts around friends, but with Gojo it felt different.

“I’ve never seen this before.” He comments offhandedly, swaying his leg side to side as the opening credits roll. “What’s it about?” He glances over at you and for a moment you think he’s staring at your bare legs, but then he’s making eye contact with you.

“Uhm…” Biting your lip, a wave of bashfulness goes over you. “It’s a romantic comedy.”

“Ah.” Nodding like he understands, he returns his attention to the screen. Your fingers twitch, wanting to grab the remote and change it to something more highbrow. Something that a grown up like Gojo would enjoy.

As the movie goes on, you’re painfully aware of every line that’s said. Usually, this film can make your heart race with how romantic it usually is, but now it’s just making you cringe. Taking a look at Gojo, he doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

“Woah, pretty steamy.” He chuckles at a scene, and you rip your eyes away to see what he means. Two characters are passionately kissing on screen, their hands gripping each other's clothing so roughly it looks like they might tear.

“We can fast forward.” As heat rises to your cheeks, you reach for the remote.

“No, it’s okay.” Grabbing your wrist to stop you, Gojo shrugs. “I don’t mind.” The feeling of his fingers wrapped around you lingers long after he’s let go. Watching the same hand go back to resting on his lap, the tips of his fingers just barely touching his thighs, makes more heat come to your face.

As the story progresses, you try to forget about the scene entirely. You’re able to let your body relax, even stretch out your legs onto the portion of the couch that’s been left unoccupied. There are a few more kissing scenes and they all make you nervous and bring your eyes to Gojos face to watch his reaction.

“I can feel you staring.” Gojo grins like a fool and turns to you, catching you right in the act.

“S-sorry.” Hiding him from view with your hand, you stare at the floor and try to push down the shame at being caught. Gojo laughs, an easy sound aided by the alcohol in his system, and his hand comes down to graze the top of your foot.

“What’s in that head of yours, little girl?” His hand firmly grabs your ankle, playfully pushing your leg side to side as he waits for an answer.

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s something.” He immediately counters, and the hand on your ankle tugs at you. “Let’s see, you only look at me when there’s kissing…” Putting more weight into his grip, he lets out a hum. “Are you trying to tell me you want a kiss?”

“No!” Gasping loudly, your head snaps to attention and instantly you regret it from the way a smirk seems permanently placed on Gojos face. He doesn’t say anything, just watches as you try to curl away from him.

“Sheesh, way to make me feel special.” Lightly scratching your leg, Gojo puffs out his chest a little. “I’ll have you know plenty of people have said I’m a great kisser.” A devilish look overtakes his face, a new thought having popped into his head. “I bet you haven’t even had your first kiss, huh?”

The noise you let out is stupid and unintelligible, and it tells Gojo all he has to know. The hand on your ankle goes a little higher to grab your shin and this time when he tugs at you, your body moves slightly.

“So what if I haven’t?” You try to save whatever dignity you have left by forcing your voice to be stern, but with a slight underlying waver it gives you away. When you make eye contact with Gojo now, you see his bottom lip caught between his teeth, and a look in his eyes that brings that ache back between your legs.

“How about we change that then?” He poses his words like a question but there’s not even the illusion of a choice presented. He sits up a little straighter in his seat, the shorts on his thighs riding up just a bit, and pulls on your leg again.

“I…” The tips of your fingers are tingling, nerves firing off at every possible point as you follow his lead. Sitting up on your knees, Gojo is quick to shuffle you over to him. His hands on your hips help steady you as you settle across his lap, and they quickly wrap your arms around his neck when he senses hesitation from you.

“Just let me do all the work, okay?” He whispers, voice just loud enough over the movie still playing in the back. His hand spreads across your lower back, pushing you closer to the apex of his legs. With a hand on the back of your head, he pulls you down to meet his lips.

Kissing Gojo was just as good as you imagined it to be. His mouth fit perfectly against yours, sliding on your skin and making your eyes fall shut. A soft groan leaves your mouth the longer he’s pressed against you, and your fingers weave into his hair. It’s unclear how long this simple lip lock lasts until you become hungry for more.

Carefully, your lips part. There’s a part of your brain that’s screaming out about your lack of experience, desperate to preserve your dignity and not make a fool of yourself. Pushing past that, the tip of your tongue presses against Gojos closed mouth.

“I thought I said to let me do the work.” Pulling away from you, Gojo clicks his tongue. “Such an eager little girl, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” Keeping your eyes closed, you nod breathlessly. Shifting on his lap, you fully seat yourself onto him. With your ass pressing onto his legs, you can feel something hard and hot just out of reach in his pants.

With a chuckle Gojo kisses you again. Readjusting his grip on your head, he tilts it to the side and opens his mouth. He doesn’t need to do much more besides that and your mouth is already open. His tongue slides into your mouth at the same time his hand grabs your ass, and you moan because of both of them.

Instinct takes over any thoughts in your brain, all the worry and doubts you had dashed away. On shaky legs, you rut your hips forward onto Gojo, the friction catching on your clit. His tongue has barely made a home for itself in your mouth, and here you are humping him.

Letting go of your head, both hands clamp down on your ass. He forces you to slow down to an almost complete stop and he swallows the whine that comes out of your throat. Securing his feet onto the floor, Gojo gently pushes his hips up while he rocks you forward, and the noise you let out is one he will never forget.

The pace he sets is agonizingly slow, nothing like the one you’d had. Every brush of your body against his has your skin erupting in goosebumps and heat flashes across your body. Fingers tug his hair harder when the grip on your ass gets tighter, and you nearly throw yourself onto him more than you already have.

You don’t even realize the tiny little whimpers coming out of your mouth in a steady rhythm until they turn to wanton moans, a clunky sound you’re unsure about but make all the same. Gojo makes sound too, a deep grumble in his chest that manages to outdo you.

Time is lost with your lips against his. The movie that’s playing has long been forgotten, playing to an audience of no one. It’s soundtrack is a distant entity, muffled by the ringing in your ears and the heat accumulating between your bodies.

“G-gojo.” You pull back with a face hot as fire and eyes closed softly. A plea is on the tip of your tongue, and although you don’t know what you want, you’re ready to beg for it all the same. Gojo chases your lips, capturing them again for another searing kiss that makes you feel drunk.

He hums when he finally sets you free, the cool air from his nose fanning over your face. Forcing his body to relax, Gojo lets go of your ass and drops his hands to his sides. Letting his head fall back onto the couch, he blinks owlishly at the ceiling.

“Would you look at the time, it’s past your bedtime.”

“What?” Turning to look at the clock on the wall, your blood runs cold when you see what time it is. Grabbing his limp hands, you try to put them back on your body. “No, no forget about that.”

“I can’t. Little girls need to go to sleep when it’s time.” Gojo is fighting back a vicious smirk, forcing his face to remain as neutral as he can.

“Gojo, no!” You cry, bouncing on his lap like a child. His body remains limp as you attempt to engage him in another kiss, and frustrated tears rise in your eyes. “C’mon!” Your eyes flicker between his and you nearly throw yourself off his lap. “This isn’t fair!”

“Throwing a tantrum? I thought you were more mature than that.” Standing up and stretching his impossibly long limbs, Gojo clicked his tongue and flicked the TV off.

“Whatever.” Head clouded with lust and pent up frustration, you stormed out of the room much to Gojos pleasure. He followed after you slowly, stopping in the hallway when you get to your door.

“I don’t get a kiss goodnight?” He teases, and if looks could kill he’d be dead by now. The pout on your lip is almost negated by your puffy eyes straining to hold back tears. Laughing under his breath he walks up to you and pats your head. “Sleep well, little girl.”

“Yeah.” Nodding your head, you close your door and all but fall into bed. Your whole body is tense and unable to relax, the throbbing between your legs too much to ignore. Stripping down and crawling defeatedly under the blankets, you stare up at the dark ceiling.

Curling your fist, you punch the bed twice before shoving a hand between your legs. Your cunt is soaked all from a little bit of kissing, and in any other circumstance you’d be embarrassed. But this time, the only thing you could feel was an indescribable need to touch yourself.

Biting your lip hard between your teeth, your legs spread a little to accommodate the new arrival. There’s slick coating your skin, making everything a sticky mess. Inexperienced fingers press against your swollen clit and you gasp loudly.

“Shit.” A whine leaves your throat at the first touch, and your fingers rub clumsily along yourself. Pushing your head back against the pillows you try to recreate the feeling of grinding on Gojos lap. Every so often that spark hits you, but it’s not enough to get off to.

Slowly, you push a finger inside yourself, and then two. With a strain in your wrist you know you’ll feel tomorrow, you thrust your fingers in and out of your cunt. The wet clicking sound of your fingers is unmissable and you're quickly brought to a messy, uncoordinated orgasm.

“Shit.” You swear again, finally able to relax your body. Wiping your fingers on your blankets, you toss and turn to get into a comfortable position. The orgasm you had brought you some reprieve, but in the back of your mind you know it would have been better if Gojo had done it.

Waking up in the morning with the mess between your legs makes a wave of second hand embarrassment wash over you. Dressing quickly, it’s both a relief and a disappointment that Gojo has work during the day, early enough that you don’t see him in the morning.

Eating breakfast and lunch alone, there’s still a feeling in your body that won’t dissipate. The ache between your legs isn’t as strong as last night, but it’s still there, sitting in your body and ruining your underwear.

Your eyes keep staring at the clock, counting down the minutes until Gojo returns. There were other things you could have been doing, things that were more productive with your time, but every time you tried to move on it was impossible to focus and you found yourself back in the same spot.

When Gojo was nearly home, you sprung into action with a half baked plan. He’d texted you asking if you wanted takeout again or a home cooked meal, and you replied immediately that you would be cooking dinner. The only incentive you had to cook was to show him how responsible you were, and to make up for your show of emotions last night.

“(Y/N), I’m home!” Gojo announced as he opened the door. Toeing his shoes off, he waited for an answer or for you to appear before him, but he was left alone in the entryway. Walking past the lounge room, you weren’t there, and he was surprised to find you in the kitchen.

“Hi.” Giving him a quick wave, you kept your attention on the stove. His gaze lingered on you, a half smile on his face, but Gojo said nothing and left the room. You could hear him moving around the house, going to his room and changing into casual clothes and using the toilet before returning to you.

“So, what’re you making?” Standing close to you on the stove, he leaned over your body. His head brushed your temple and your breath hitched.

“J-just something easy.” You squeaked, painfully aware of how his hands settled onto the counters, trapping you against the stove and his body. He hummed but made no other response, and you just stood there together.

“Ya know, it’s kinda like you’re my little housewife, cooking for me after a long day of work.” His comment made you gasp. A million different scenarios ran through your head, all of them where you really were his wife in a house you shared together.

Keeping your lips pressed together to spare the sanity you had left, you nodded as a response. Gojo chuckled and got closer, placing his hands on your hips. Jumping when you felt his nose brush against your neck, you couldn’t move a muscle to question him.

“Having you as a housewife doesn’t sound too bad, now that I think about it.” His breath was loud in your ear, and so was the kiss he planted behind it. His teeth scraped against your neck, and he sucked lightly on your skin before letting you go. “Looks like it’s almost ready. I’ll go set the table.”

As soon as Gojo untangled himself from you, you let out a staggered sigh. With shaky fingers you turned the stove off and took the food off the heat, your eyes glued to the pan so he wouldn’t see your mortified face. Bringing the food to the table quickly, you stared at the table as you ate.

“So, do you like it?” You asked when he was more than halfway done.

“I do.” Propping his elbow on the table, Gojo flashed you a big smile. “I love whatever my little housewife makes for me.” Slapping a hand over your face in embarrassment, you sunk into your chair when he let out a laugh at your expense.

When dinner was over, Gojo insisted on helping you clean up. Rolling up his sleeves and pressing his body right against your back, he promised to do a good job washing the dishes, but he kept grabbing your hand and tangling your fingers together. By the time you finished, nearly an hour had passed and the ache between your legs was killing you.

“Come sit and watch the game with me.” He mumbled, grabbing a beer from the fridge and going to the lounge room.

“What game?” You followed him obediently, standing next to the couch as he took a seat.

“Baseball. I placed a few bets on tonight's game and I wanna win.” Cracking open the can, he took a long drink. “Come sit down.” Spreading his legs, he pat his thigh loudly.

“Okay.” Hesitantly climbing onto his lap, your hands gripped his arm as he pulled you flush against him. Gojos' chin rest on your shoulder, making you lay on his chest and feel every time he drew a breath.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day.” He whispers once a commercial hits.

“R-really?”

“Mhmm.” The arm around your middle tightens up. “Been thinking about kissing those pretty lips of yours.” You tried to turn your head to look at him, but he wouldn’t budge. Squirming in his lip made him groan, the vibrations traveling across your back. “What’re you doing, little girl?”

“I wanna kiss you.” At your admittance, Gojo lets you go and helps you turn around in his lap. The position is a familiar one, and your ass nestles against his thighs. Going in for a kiss, your brows furrow when he dodges your lips.

“Once there’s a pause in the game I’ll kiss you.” He says off-handedly, pushing your face out of the way.

“But-”

“Shh.” With a pinch to your ass, Gojo shuts down any protest. The same frustration you felt last night was coming back, coupled with annoyance at being ignored. You tried again to kiss Gojo, but he dodged you again.

“Fine.” Pinching him back, you practically collapsed in his lap. Watching the game over your shoulder, you truly couldn’t care less about it, but you needed to know the second there was a break.

But it seemed like there would never be one. Even when a commercial came, Gojo would keep your head pressed against his chest, stopping you from doing anything other than trying to wriggle out of his grasp.

“Gojo!” You cried, growing frantic. “Stop being mean!”

“Mean? I would never be mean to you.” He gasped dramatically. Letting you sit up, the smirk he had on his face had your fingers itching to slap him. Grabbing your chin, he pursed your lips and finally kissed you.

The taste of the beer on his tongue was something you could ignore when it entered your mouth. Getting what you wanted at last was the only thing on your mind. Your hands found their spot in his hair again, and you kept him pressed to you even when he tried to pull away.

“Someone’s needy, huh?” Gojo chuckled, finally able to break free and breathe.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day too.” The words fell out of your mouth before you had the chance to think.

“Oh, really?” Gojo quirked a brow. Resting his head in his hand, he licked his lips. “Tell me what you’ve been thinking then.”

“Uhm…” Suddenly feeling shy, you look down at his lap. You can see the outline of his cock straining against his pants and it makes you lick your lips. “I’ve been thinking about kissing you and-” A quick glance up makes your face flush with heat. “And about how you make me feel.”

“How’s that?” He presses, sliding a hand to your ass.

“I get all hot and sweaty, and that place starts to hurt.” Your hand does a vague gesture down to your crotch and it makes Gojo chuckle.

“That place? Do you mean your pussy?” Screwing your eyes closed at his question, you nod. Gojo lets out a little coo, his fingers affectionately squeezing your ass. “You poor baby, I bet it’s just a mess down there.”

“Yeah.” Spreading your legs further across his lap, you try to get comfortable with the wetness that had pooled in your underwear.

“What a shame.” Gojo clicks his tongue, and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you again. But then his eyes dart to the TV and his body tenses. “Oh shit, I think I might win this game!”

“Huh?” Blinking rapidly, you shift again on his lap and look over your shoulder. Whatever was happening had his full attention, and not even your kisses along his jawline can draw him back to you.

Gojo keeps you seated on his lap for the entirety of the game, every so often kissing you like you wanted, just enough to keep you from leaving but not enough to satisfy you. When the game is over, he repeats the process of yesterday and sends you to your room for your bedtime.

Waking up the next morning is a struggle after being blue balled for two days straight. It was like the release you’d given yourself the first night meant nothing because it wasn’t done by Gojo. Stumbling into the kitchen in a shirt and shorts, you bumped straight into Gojo.

“Hey sleepy head.” He ruffles your hair affectionately, his eyes quite obviously staring right at your ass skirted by the hem of your shorts.

“Hey.” Leaning your head against his chest, you give him a sleepy hug.

“Still tired?” Gojo feigns like he’s interested in whatever you have to say while his hands go under your shirt. The pads of his fingers press into your lower back for a moment before sliding up.

Leaning back a little, you move your arms out of the way for him to bring his hands to your front. His palms cup your breasts, just as hot as your flesh. Grazing your nipples with his thumbs, Gojo hums to himself and nods.

“Can I see?” Gojo asks, slowly tugging up your shirt.

“Yeah.” You nod. He folds up your shirt and pushes the fabric into your mouth, letting go when you bite down. Your fingers are holding up the rest of your shirt, and Gojo squeezes your arms together, making your breasts push together.

“What pretty tits you have.” Leaning down, Gojo presses a kiss to the center of your chest, and another atop both breasts. You’re quick to say a muffled thank you and Gojo kisses you again. His nose is pressed onto your chest and it’s all he can do to pull away and pull your shirt out of your mouth. “Do you want some breakfast?”

“Shouldn’t you be at work?” You ask instead, blindly finding a seat at the dining table.

“I’m going in a little later today for a meeting.” Stepping up to the stove, Gojo sweeps his arm over the assorted ingredients he’s set out. “Now, do you want an omelette?”

When Gojo returns home the next few days after work, it’s either long after your bedtime or he’s too tired to do anything more than go to bed. He was caught up in meetings and late night work functions, leaving no time or energy to spend with you. When the weekend finally comes, you don’t even see him until the evening.

“Hey.” He opens his bedroom door the moment you open the bathroom door, a cloud of steam billowing out around you.

“H-hey.” Caught off guard by his sudden appearance, you grip the towel tighter to your body. His eyes flick down to your skin, slightly damp and smelling sweetly of your body wash. Your body moves on it’s own when he takes a step forward, pressing yourself against the doorframe.

“It’s been a while.” He’s in front of you in just a few short strides. Lithe fingers trace your neck, making you shiver as a tingle goes through you. His hand cups your face, turning it up to him. “I’ve missed you, little girl.”

Gojo kisses you before you have time to answer. What usually starts as a gentle kiss is far gone, replaced with a hunger behind his lips that leaves you trembling. His tongue slides into your mouth with ease, roaming all around your mouth while his teeth clink into yours.

Your thighs are spread apart by his knee shoving between them, and your fingers nearly drop the towel to grab onto him. His knee is pressed right against your cunt, grinding deliciously onto you.

“Gojo!” You gasp when he lets you free. Air rushes into your lungs and is expelled just as fast. His teeth sink into the side of your neck, sucking hard on the skin and lapping up any lingering water droplets. “Gojo, please, I-”

“I know.” He grunts, sucking on the junction of your neck and shoulder. A rough groan leaves his lips and his knee drops, replaced by the hard on straining against his pants. Rough hands rush to bundle up your towel around your hips.

“Fuck, look at you.” Gojo growls, his eyes staring directly at your cunt. “What a pretty little pussy.”

“Gojo!” Throwing your head back, you nearly sob his name when he ruts his hips into you. His hands are digging marks into your hips and thighs with every thrust, and if it weren’t for his body holding you up, you would have crumpled to the floor.

All the sensations are too much, mounting pleasure in your body that threatens to take over. One hand is mindlessly clutching the towel, needing something to ground you in the moment that’s quickly getting away from you.

“Shit.” After sucking a harsh mark into your skin, Gojo stops completely. He stands painfully still, his own orgasm nearly barreling over him. Wrenching his hands off your body, he fixes your towel and takes a tiny step back. Licking his lips, Gojo runs a hand through his hair.

“W-why’d you stop?” Looking up at him with wide eyes, your chest is heaving as you catch your breath.

“I don’t want to blow my load right now, that’d be kind of embarrassing don’t you think?”

“I guess.” At a loss for words, you watch helplessly as he takes another step back. The tent in his pants is painfully obvious. “So when? When can we…” Your eyes bounce around the room, skirting around the question.

“Soon, I promise.” Adjusting his pants, Gojo flicks his head to your bedroom. “Now go get dressed, wouldn’t want you to catch a cold standing out here.”

It’s nearly three days before Gojo kisses you again. He doesn’t kiss you, but he does everything else to you that he wants to do. Shoving you against the wall and fondling your ass before he leaves for work. Grabbing at your tits when you’re cooking or washing dishes. Making you perch your ass on his lap when he’s watching another baseball game, his fingers drawing patterns on your thighs.

“Gojo!” Finally, it’s your turn to corner him in the hallway. Blocking his way to the rest of the house, you cross your arms and fix him with your strongest glare.

“Yes?”

“I need you!” Stamping your foot, you know it looks childish, but you need to get your point across. Biting his lip, Gojo steps up to you, giving you a once over.

“Need me how?”

“You know how!” His question shakes your confidence a little, enough to make you break eye contact with him and look at the wall.

“I don’t think I do.” Rocking on his heels, Gojo shrugs dramatically.

“Like- like-” Dropping your arms, you do the only thing you know will work: you shove your hand onto his crotch, palming at his cock and making him jump. “Like this!”

“Woah, little girl.” He’s quick to grab your wrist, but he doesn’t pull your hand away.

“Please!” The whine you’d been fighting back comes out, and it’s music to Gojos ears. “You always do stuff and it makes me feel funny and I really need you.” The frustration makes tears well in your eyes as you look up at him, and he pouts his lip at you.

“Oh poor baby.” Taking your hand away from him, Gojo turns to your room. “Let’s go then. Seems I’ve been playing with you too long.” Rushing to your room, you sit eagerly on the edge of your bed. “Lay down.” He gently pushes your shoulder back, and your head hits the pillow.

Climbing on top of you, Gojo nestles his body against yours and kisses you. Gripping his shoulders tightly, you pull him down harder. The drought he’d put you through had driven you crazy, causing you to dream about his lips on you.

His tongue slid into your mouth quickly, tangling with yours and knocking his teeth with yours. The tips of his fingers skirted around the edge of your shirt for just a moment before delving deeper. Sliding his hand under your bra, Gojo tweaked your nipple.

Making quick work of your shirt, Gojo sat on his heels and peeled his top off. Your eyes were glued to his body, catching every little twitch of his muscles and dip and curve of his chest. He chuckled at your mesmerized face and leant down, taking your nipple into his mouth.

Grabbing your other breast, Gojo worked both your nipples to full hardness, alternating on sucking them into his mouth. The moans that came from your mouth were music to his ears, and your hips blindly rutted against him.

Flicking your nipples with his tongue one last time, Gojo kissed down your chest. Reaching your bottoms, he didn’t need to tell you to lift your hips up, your hands were already pulling them off with him.

“Shit.” Gojo breathed, laying between your legs. Your inner thighs and cunt were covered in your slick, and the heady aroma had Gojo eager to stick his tongue inside you. Sliding his hands underneath your thighs, he set them on his shoulders.

Spreading your lips with his thumbs, Gojos tongue flicked your clit, making your hips nearly shoot off the bed. Your hands immediately wound into the sheets as he continued his ministrations.

“Gojo, please.” You cried, growing tired of the little flicks he was giving you.

“Be patient, baby.” He replied, quickly sucking your clit into his mouth. Your thighs tried to close around his head but his hold on your body was strong. Digging his hands into you, Gojo pulled your cunt closer to his mouth.

Shoving his tongue into you, Gojo lapped tirelessly at your gummy walls, loudly swallowing your essence mixed with his saliva. His nose rubbed your clit, relentless in his pursuit in tasting you. Muffled groans came from his mouth, the vibrations adding to the pleasure.

Pressing his thumb against your clit, he rubbed it furiously. Gojos eyes were screwed closed as he worked you to your first orgasm, his jaw beginning to ache from the force he put behind his tongue.

“Gojo-” Your body tensed up as the orgasm hit you. The fingers gripping the sheets threatened to tear them, your nails digging dangerously into the fabric. A loud, drawn out moan left you and your eyes rolled back.

“Fuck yes, baby.” Gojo wrenched your thighs open and sat up on his elbow. His thumb on your clit didn’t slow down, milking you through your orgasm. When your body relaxed, Gojo shoved his fingers into you, too worked up himself to worry about stretching you out properly.

The two fingers he had inside you stuffed you more than your own fingers ever could. Your walls stretched to fit around the long digits, clenching hard around him. His thumb pressed against your clit again and he began to move his fingers in and out of you at a steady rhythm.

The overstimulation from your first orgasm gave way to pleasure the more he fucked you on his fingers. Gojos palm slapped against your sex with every thrust, mixing with your moans and echoing around the room.

The second orgasm came much quicker than the first, and it was tinged with pain at the edge of your senses. Letting out a loud groan at the feeling of your walls milking his fingers, Gojo pulled out and sat back, roughly ripping his shorts off and exposing his leaking cock to the air.

“Think you can take my cock, baby?” He asked, gripping his cock hard at the base.

“Yes, please!”

“Good answer.” Grabbing your hands, he placed them under your thighs and pressed them to your chest. “Be a good girl and hold your legs for me.” Eager to please, you got a good hold on your thighs and waited.

Both of you stared at his cock lining up with your slit. Taking his time, Gojo pushed the tip past the tight ring of muscle and thrust softly, slowly working you to take his whole cock.

“How does it feel?” He asked, laughing breathlessly.

“Strange.” Your answer made him laugh more.

“Am I the first one to fuck this pretty pussy?”

“Yeah.” A wicked grin spreads across Gojos face and he leans between your legs to kiss your forehead.

“This old man sure feels special.”

“You’re not old!” You gasp, loosening your hold on your legs. “Not at all!”

“Legs, baby.” He taps your hands and you quickly right yourself. Pressing his hands into the pillow beneath your head, Gojo forces your legs to bend a little more. “I’m a dirty old man compared to you.”

“No-” You go to protest again, but the sharp snap of his hips into yours cuts you off. Your head immediately falls back, exposing the column of your throat for Gojo to lean forward and kiss. He pulls back again, making sure you feel the full length of his cock before snapping forward again.

Gojo thrusts into you with no mercy, lust clouding his senses and any reason in his head. Your walls are so tight, they almost grip him enough to stop him from pulling out again. He’s waited so long to feel you wrapped around him, and now that he has you he doesn’t want to waste a single second.

His heavy balls slap against your ass with each thrust, adding to the cacophony of sounds mixing together in your room. Your slick is being fucked out of you and dripping down between your ass and onto his balls, creating a damp spot beneath you.

“Such a good little girl.” Gojo pants, cupping your face with his hand. Swiping his thumb across your lower lip, he grins when you take it into your mouth and suck hard on it. “Taking my cock so well, like you were made for it.”

“Mhmm!” Nodding, you let go of one leg to hold onto his hand, lacing a few fingers together. Pressing his thumb against your tongue, Gojo pulled your mouth open and pursed his lips. Letting his saliva drip down into your mouth, he felt a swell of pride watching you swallow it immediately.

Your hand slid off your leg, the sweat accumulating on your body making you lose your grip. With your feet dangling near Gojos head, he pressed a quick kiss to your ankle before digging his hands underneath your ass and angling your hips up.

“Fuck!” You squeal loudly at the new angle and your hands scramble to push against Gojos hips. “T-too much!” Gojo barks out a laugh and swats your hands away, pining one to your side as he pounds into you.

“Shit, how’d you get even tighter, little girl? I can barely pull out.”

“Gojo, please!” Tears begin to gather on your lashes from the onslaught of pleasure, and you let out a short yelp at feeling his fingers against your puffy clit. “Please, please it’s- fuck-” Your head thrashed against the pillows, unable to run away from the feeling.

“Be good and squirt on my cock.” Gojo growled. He was close to cumming himself, your cunt that he’d denied himself for so long was just as good as he imagined it to be. It was all he could do to make sure you came before he filled you to the brim with his cum.

“Stop I’m gonna- Gojo- pee, I’m gonna-” You babbled mindlessly, tongue falling out of your mouth and making drool coat your chin. Seeing your fucked out face had Gojos racing heart pounding even harder.

Hunching over, he forced your legs to nearly touch your head as he rutted into you. Barely pulling his cock out all the way, Gojo worked your clit in his fingers and was rewarded with a high pitched moan, akin to a scream in his ear.

“Fuck-” He grunted. The force of your orgasm was nearly pushing his cock out all the way, your juices gushing around him. Sinking his teeth into your leg, Gojo came inside your spasming cunt, fucking his cum out with yours.

You were nearly sobbing by the time he fully stopped thrusting. Your body ached all over, muscles that had been pulled taut were finally being released and allowed to relax. Gojo slid your legs off his shoulders as he panted for breath.

Slowly pulling out of you, he stared at his softening cock absolutely covered in your release. His entire lower region was glistening in the light of the room and the wet spot on the bed was much bigger now.

Sliding out of the room quietly, he returned with a damp towel. Quickly wiping himself, he gingerly wiped down your sex, letting out little giggles when your body twitched uncontrollably. Setting the towel to the side, he smiled down at you.

“Hey little girl.” His grin turned into a full toothed smile at seeing your dazed face, drunk off his fuck and cum. A dopey smile spread across your face and you lifted a tired hand to grab at his. Giggling bashfully, you pressed your face into the pillow to get away from his stare.

“What?” You asked, feeling your cheeks heat as he continued to look at you.

“Nothing, just looking at my pretty girl.” Squeezing your hand, Gojos eyes glance at the wet spot on the bed. “Ya know, it’s almost your bedtime, and I can’t have you sleeping in a wet bed.” Humming like you were following along, you giggled again when his hand squeezed your waist.

“What?”

“Are you listening to me?” Gojo chuckled, squeezing you again and making you jump. “Come sleep in my room with me.”

“Okay.” Helping you stand, Gojo led you to his bedroom. Even though it was the guest room, it felt like he had always lived in this room. It smelled of him, and his clothes were everywhere. Flopping onto the bed, you yawned as soon as your head hit the pillow. “Gojo.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m hungry.” Gojo snorted loudly and nodded. Helping you under the covers, he slid on a pair of shorts.

“Alright, I’ll get you a snack. Try to stay awake.” You give him a lopsided thumbs up that makes him snort again. Turning on his heels, he knows as soon as he comes back, you’ll be passed out and snoring into his pillow. And he’s right.

[parvulous-writings]

Slightly Unexpected // McCree x reader

Request:  Can I make a request were McCree meets a new member of the team who happens to be a field medic with a big St. Bernard named Bosco. Everyone didn’t know that Bosco could speak except for Winston and soldier 76. And I mean he has the same intelligence as a human type. Like McCree finds out that his S/Os dog can speak during a mission when she hast to save him and drag him to a safe spot to be patched up.  i’ve been obsessing over the creek for the past week and a half and this seems like a very funny idea that’s been playing in my mind for the past few days lol

Requested by: @wolvesbrigade

Summary: The request

Warnings: Violence, mention of injuries and blood

Words: 1.2K

Notes:Did I make Bosco sassy? Maybe. My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!

Not my gif

Initially, the assignment for the small team you supported was going incredibly well. Almost too well. There were four of you in all- a very small team indeed, but you didn’t need to go for overkill for this. It was merely defense, and of a small area to boot. It should’ve been fairly simple.  Key words; Should have. As the battle wore on and on, you got a sinking feeling in your gut that you had severely underestimated the adversaries you were facing. How could you tell this? Well, in part because of how much you’re having to heal your teammates, but also because of how the more experienced in the team were starting to show signs of struggle. Jack Morrison- Soldier 76 to the masses- was one of the ones starting to struggle, having to slowly fall back to be able to deal with the enemy personnel safely. 

The more tank-like colleague of yours had also started to draw close to the rest of the group, raising his shield to defend both the old soldier and yourself, as one last member on your team strayed out into the field, all by himself. This rugged vigilante was the gunslinger Jesse McCree- known by most to be an outlaw, and known to you specifically to be a man who makes almost nothing but reckless decisions. You were doing your best to help the two closest to you, with the aid of your loyal companion Bosco. The St Bernard was the one who held the majority of your healing capsules- modeled partially after Ana’s which served largely the same purpose. He’d ferry them back and forth between the two allies defending the point, whilst you helped Morrison dispatch your foes with your small firearm.

You had just about managed to get your feet stuck in the ground where you were supposed to be defending, when you heard a raspy voice through your earpiece: “I need.. I need some help over here!”  It was Jesse, sounding out of breath, and in a reasonable amount of pain. You give a gentle sigh- it came as no surprise to your that it was McCree that was the first to essentially get downed. You looked to your companion, giving a low whistle to get his attention away from Reinhardt. “Bosco! Let’s get moving!” And with that, the pair of you dove into fire, taking out the lackeys that stood between you and the teammate who needed your assistance. For those you didn’t take down yourself, Bosco tackled and tore at them as they tried to take aim towards you- trying to take you out and weaken your team. 

It took you a few minutes to find Jesse, who had managed to drag himself into a small corner, where he was able to stake out and defend himself with his peacekeeper. He had a rather nasty looking wound on his leg- a large, bloody patch around a bullet hole in his trouser leg. Bosco was the first of you two to approach him, looking him over for any other sign of any other, more life threatening injuries. The hound glanced over to you, his collar- designed especially for Bosco by Winston himself, based on similar technology used for Hammond the hamster- allowed him to inform you of what was McCree’s injury as you caught up and approached them.  “Thankfully I think the bullet has missed the femoral artery.” You weren’t caught off-guard by the friendly yet oddly monotonous voice of your dog, but McCree certainly was. His jaw was almost in his lap- he had never actually been out in the field with you and Bosco, and Morrison had clearly failed to warn him of the collar and unique intelligence of your companion. 

“The- the- he can-” McCree stuttered, and had Bosco been able to, he would have rolled his eyes. “Talk, yes. Thank you for the observation, Agent McCree, I hadn’t yet noticed.” Bosco replied sarcastically. Whilst they were conversing, you pulled two bandages from the pack around your waist- one to tie at least a fairly secure tourniquet, the other to dress his wound. Bosco took a small capsule from the bag draped over his back, breaking it carefully in his jaw over the wound and letting the golden liquid drip over the bloody hole in Jesse’s thigh. McCree winced, as the wound started to heal- but it would take a few minutes to heal properly, so you still fastened a makeshift tourniquet after dressing his wound. Bosco then nuzzled himself under Jesse’s arm, trying to pull him to his feet. You started to help, taking both of the cowboy’s hands in your own. 

“You never told me the old dog could talk!” Jesse exclaimed through heavy breaths as you started to help him back towards the rest of your team.  “Not that old,” Bosco pointed out, along with a computer generated sigh.  “Ah... Sorry, Bosco.” The gunslinger replied, awkwardly.  “Didn’t really have the need to mention it... Sorry, Jesse.” You chuckled as the two beings you held dearest fully interacted for the first time. You actually thought Jesse was taking it fairly well- you had expected a much more... Dramatic display.  “Well, uh, thank you, both of you, for comin’ to fetch me...” Jesse chuckled as you finally rejoined the other half of your team. You sat the Southerner down near a piece of debris- where he could still shoot the odd enemy, but also rest his leg until a dropship arrived for you all. Bosco went and sat beside him, ready to move him should the barrier finally break and the group of you be overrun by those fighting against you. 

Thankfully, you didn’t have to wait too long before you heard the familiar whir of an  engine as the dropship started to approach from overhead. You had defended your point for long enough, now Overwatch’s own metallic forces were able to fight back instead of their valuable living soldiers. Bosco now started to help the injured gunslinger to his feet, and you soon joined to assist him onto the dropship. The man gave you a thankful look- a rarity from someone like Jesse.  “You know... I’d like to take some tips from ya about satyin’ alive during combat... You seem to do it pretty darn well, so you seem like one of the best people to ask. Maybe we could discuss it over dinner?” He suggested, a smirk-like grin spreading over his lips.  “Are you asking me out, McCree?” You ask him with a chuckle. He shrugs and nods slightly.  “I might be... Is there any harm in that?” He asked you, a hint of sheepishness in his tone.  “Only if you try anything funny.” Bosco jumped in, which caused both you and McCree to laugh.

“Don’t worry, I won’t try anything... Jus’ want to be a gentleman...” He looked to you, “If you’ll let me, o’ course...” He chuckled, and you smiled softly, beginning to nod at his words.  “Alright... But only if neither of us are cooking.” You gestured between you and him, laughing gently as he nodded in agreement.  “I was gonna suggest the same thing, darlin’.” He told you, “So, you got a date in mind?”  “Saturday? Maybe... Half eight?” You suggested, and he nods eagerly.  “Sounds brilliant, sugar.” 

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McCree taglist: @rey-is-not-a-skywalker​

[lilysdaydreams]

Chocolates

→ Pairing: Corpse Husband X plussize!Reader

→ Request: hello i love you and your writing (firstly) i was wondering if you could write a corpse husband xfem reader who is plus size? i havent seen any of those lol but maybe she gets hate over it and wants to start eating better and working out with him?? you don’t have to if you don’t want to tho!!

→ Warnings: chubby reader, insecure!reader, Body Image issues !!! Swearing, Descriptions of Readers feeling really sad about their body + online hate comments on readers body.

→ A/N: Idk what happened with this. This past week has been hard and I've been really tired but I forced myself to write something. I dont really think its goof but I hope the person who requested it likes it :(((

~~~

You fell into bed, wrapping the blanket around you and rolling over onto your side. Work had been hard today, your manager getting mad at the smallest of things. You could hear Corpse in his streaming room, talking to the viewers. You and Corpse had been together for 2 years now, and both of you had finally decided you were ready to reveal your relationship to his fans. First, you'd simply joined him on stream, talking at some points. Then a few weeks later, he'd posted a photo of him holding your hand and tagged you in it.

Your followers had gone from your 450 friends to 53 000 strangers. And that was only on the first day. You hadn't been on Instagram for a whole week, too overwhelmed about all the attention. It was a Friday today though, so you decided you might as well.

You opened up Instagram and clicked on your profile, eyes widening as you saw the 500k written above followers.

"Five hundred thousand?" You whispered to yourself, not even being able to comprehend the number. Like sure, if you compared it to Corpses 2 million, it seemed small, but it's not as if you did anything! What reason would they have to follow you? You only had two photos posted as well, an outfit photo from your sister's weddings, and one of you drinking a bubble tea.

Quickly clicking on the bubble tea picture, you opened up the comments smiling when the first comment  that caught your eye was "Woah shes so pretty." You scroll slowly, your  smile growing bigger at all the  love that Corpses fans gave you.

"SHES GORGEOUS"

"QUEEN WHAT THE HELL STEP ON ME"

The amount of "CHOKE ME" comments were hilarious.

You chuckled at a few and scrolled again, reading another one.

"Why did he have to pick a fat girl?"

For a second, your heart completely  stopped.

"What the fuck," you muttered.

You quickly clicked on the replies, wanting to see what others had to say. There were people defending you and arguing with the user, and there were others who agreed with them.

“Yes omg do you se ever stomach? Ugh how can Corpse stand staring at that the whole day?”

“Bruh her legs 😂😂”

You sucked in a breath.

You’d never been thin, always a bit chubby and with a bit of stomach fat. You’d been very insecure in high school, always wearing baggy clothes to hide your body, but who hadn’t felt that way in high school. After it though, you’d been okay. You felt happy and Corpse always let you know that he loved your body just the way you were. You were pretty confident normally. Today though... today it felt like all of that confidence has crumbled. You kept scrolling focusing on all the comments that talked about your weight.

Throwing the phone on the bed, you got up and moved to the mirror you have in your room. Grabbing the cloth draped over it, you pulled it off, looking at yourself in the mirror. You can see every flaw the comments talked about. You can see your double chin, your huge stomach, your big thighs. You held your arms up, wincing when you see the fat on them. Your probably looked so bad when you waved bye to someone. Tears now gathering in your eyes, you moved the cloth back over the mirror and then went back to bed, using the pillow to muffle your sobs.

You knew you were being a bit stupid. Random people on the internet and their opinions shouldn’t matter to you. But for some reason, the words had really gotten to you, and all you wanted to do was cry.

A few minutes later, you heard the door open, and knowing it was Corpse, you pushed your head into the pillow even more, not wanting him to look at you like this.

“Babe,” he whispered, coming over and patting you on your back.

“Baby,” he repeated when you refused to say anything and that he could hear was your sniffling. “You okay?”

You sobbed in response and he let out a “Oh” and then pulled you away from the pillow.

You looked down, refusing to look at him because you would look like an absolute mess.

“God I look so bad right now, he’s gonna see me and realise how big of a fat mess I am and leave me,” you thought.

“Hey baby, what’s wrong?” He asked again grabbing you in a hug.

“Was it work?” He asked when you didn’t answer. “or did your mom call again?"

When you stayed silent, he let out a sigh and let you go, getting up from the bed.

You immediately looked up, and asked “Where are you going?" because for a second you felt like it was true.  Maybe Corpse was leaving you because of how disgusting you were.

He looked down at you, startled by your sudden question. "Just to get some chocolate and a blanket."

"No." you said voice shaking a bit from the crying, "I don't want chocolate."

"What babe, what the fuck?" He said softly, dropping back down next to you. "Baby what's going on, just tell me, I can't do anything if you can't tell me."

"You-You know your fans? They're amazing, right?" you finally said, hesitating a little.

"It's just, I checked some comments on one of Instagram posts and there's so many where they're just talking about how fat I am, or how big my stomach is, or how ugly I look," you said, your voice lowering to a whisper at the end.

A beat of silence and then;

"Oh baby noooo," Corpse whispers, grabbing you and pulling you into a hug.

You cant stop the tears from leaking out of your eyes and you bury your head into his shoulder. His hoodie smells like the bodywash he uses, making you calmer in a second.

"Sweetheart, you are absolutely beautiful," he begins, whispering into your ear. "Did you know that when I first saw you, I couldn't even speak? Like I legitimately felt like my mouth had been glued together, I couldn't form any words."

Heat rose to your cheeks as he continued on.

"You were like an angel, literally glowing, and guess what, I still feel like that whenever I see you now. When you come back home and you're wearing that huge hoodie and you just have the hood pulled up because its cold and the little pout on your face, guess what you look fucking gorgeous to me like that. And when you're in our bed, wearing shorts and a crop top with your hair in a bun waiting for me to make popcorn so we can watch a movie, god you look like an angel then okay?"

"Oh ah, when you're on your period, and seriously bloated and eating all the food, you fucking look beautiful to me then as well. Your tummy- Your tummy makes me so happy like look at this soft little baby. And guess what? I fucking LIVE for your thighs and you know that baby, like I will die for them okay? Your ass- well, we both know what I feel about that so I won't say anything." He ended with a chuckle.

You moved back a little, and he grabbed your face and rested his forehead on yours.

Taking a deep breath, he started whispering, eyes locked onto yours.

"Every single part of you is perfect. And I love it. I find you so sexy that I literally cannot breathe sometimes because of your presence. You're amazing and I fucking love you. What those people say on the internet, why the fuck does it matter huh? They obviously can't recognize the absolute fox in front of their faces."

Slowly he wiped the tears from your face, and returned the watery smile that you gave him.

"Chocolates?" he asked, still whispering.

You nodded your head, giggling as he ran to get them.

fin.

[starculler]

Lead Me Down Another Road (preview)

Word Count: 2975

I fell into a minor rabbit hole and stand before you now with a scrap from the Crèchemaster Anakin AU I'm working on. The full fic is a few thousand words longer than this (and will go up on ao3 within the week), but this is technically the original bit I'd planned on writing (and is thus self-contained enough that I'm comfortable posting it alone here. As a treat). Hope y'all enjoy it and the glimpse of at least one of several Jedi OCs I've been having to come up with for this lol Note: I'm using crèche-minder in place of crèchemaster because it fits a little better with how I've set up the role in the au -- the particulars of which will be explored in the full fic.

Anakin stood from where he’d sat among the younglings in Targon Clan when he caught sight of his master standing just inside the room, all ten pairs of eyes straying from their painting to watch him stretch. He grimaced briefly at the splotches of bright paint he could already see on his tunic and pants, but made it a point to smile at a scowling nautolan making a grab at his ankle. He shuffled back, just out of reach, and had to dodge another two pairs of eager, sticky fingers with a put-upon sigh that failed to fully mask his amusement. It was the same song and dance every time he was sent to Knight D’nali for crèche-duty, and he’d long gotten wise to the initiates’ tricks.

What made today’s game of Catch-the-Padawan novel was Obi-Wan’s presence hovering at the edges of Anakin’s focus. His master hadn’t come to collect him like this since his first few weeks, confident that Anakin would neither get lost on his way to and from the crèche, nor try to dodge his punishment after that awful first and final attempt. He shuddered at the memory even as he leaped nimbly over a pair of near-humans who’d thought to tackle him from behind. He laughed when they turned, eyes wide and betrayed for a moment before trying for a frontal attack.

He dodged, weaving between ten tiny, determined younglings — baiting them with the promise of his capture before stepping just out of reach once more — until he hit something solid from behind. He blinked, stunned for a second and sure that he’d had enough space still to maneuver around, only to yelp when an arm snaked around his waist and pulled him off his feet with an ease that spoke of more than a little help from the Force.

“Master!” He groaned, his protest drowned out by mixed cheering and jeering from Targon Clan and their minder’s own loud laughter. Anakin shot Knight D’nali as much of a betrayed look as he could while caught, but the traitor only laughed harder. He huffed.

“Well,” Obi-Wan said, grinning and smug and just as much of a traitor as the kiffar knight, “it seems I’ve won a prize to take back with me. A whole padawan all for myself.” A chorus of “No’s” and groaning followed the statement, and Anakin, face warmer than it had been a minute ago, suddenly found the floor much more interesting than a gaggle of disappointed initiates. Obi-Wan, still being a traitor, only laughed.

“Alright, alright. Settle down now,” Knight D’nali interrupted, wading into the chaos so she stood between them and the younglings. “Knight Kenobi and Padawan Skywalker have other duties to attend to, and you little Jedi have a latemeal to prepare for.”

With only a mild amount of protest, the little ones acquiesced. In true, and still vaguely eerie to Anakin, Jedi fashion, they bowed in sync, calling out a discordant mix of goodbyes and thank yous. Anakin nodded in return, starting to wriggle in his master’s grip in a futile attempt to free himself. Obi-Wan held fast even after two of the younglings, a zabrak and the same nautolan who’d first tried to grab onto him, crept around Knight D’nali to hand him four sheets of flimsi splattered with a variety of bright, clashing paint.

He sighed, resigned to the embarrassment of being gifted their paintings under the too-amused gazes of both knights, and murmured a quiet “Thanks” that made the pair smile so wide he thought their faces might split. Their obvious happiness made something warm bubble up in his chest and his hand tingle where flimsi met skin. It was hardly the first time one of the younglings in any of the clans he frequented had given him something small like this to take back with him — he had a wall in his room dedicated to doodles and paintings and a corner set aside, free of his usual clutter, for knickknacks and crafts — but the shock and awe and tingling warmth it left in him never wore off.

Anakin’s gifts had never lied with children. His temper ran too hot and he never quite knew what to say to anyone his age, much less younger than him. It had, in fact, taken months of constant supervision, patience, and teaching from the crèche-minders who’d agreed to take on his crèche-duty punishments for him to build up any sort of rapport with the little ones under their care. It had been hard and frustrating, but ultimately rewarding, work even if it had been borne out of his master’s own frustrated desperation.

The arm around his waist squeezed briefly, and Anakin had to fight down yet another burning flush when he realized Obi-Wan had most likely noticed where his thoughts had wandered. He floundered for something to say or do, but settled for a heavy sigh that drew a brief chuckle from his master.

“I apologize again for stealing Anakin back so early, Knight D’nali,” Obi-Wan said and Anakin could picture the apologetic smile on his face as he spoke.

“No need,” said Knight D’nali, smiling just enough that the wrinkles in her eyes and the upward pull of her cheeks distorted the two, bright red tattoos — one line the width of her thumb and the other no more than half a centimeter — cutting vertically down from hairline to jaw over her right eye. “I may be getting older, but I remember well enough how busy a padawan’s life can be.”

“You’re not that old,” Anakin groused and earned himself a huff from his master and a bark of laughter from Knight D’nali.

“That’s sweet of you padawan, but the gray in my hair tells another story. And not another word about it,” she said the second Anakin opened his mouth. “There’ll be no buttering up this old knight. I told you, if you’re back here in less than a week I will sit this clan down for a four-hour meditation at least. Force knows your master certainly won’t object.”

“Yes Knight D’nali,” he said in the dull tone every chastised padawan seemed to affect, much to Targon Clan’s delight if their stifled giggling was any indication. Knight D’nali simply nodded, satisfied. Obi-Wan, again, laughed.

“And on that note, we’ll be taking our leave now. Knight D’nali.” Obi-Wan bowed as well as he could with an armful of padawan still pinned against him. “Targon Clan.” He offered the still-giggling younglings a much shallower bow. “May the Force be with you,” he said, echoed only a moment after by Anakin, before turning on his heel and striding out into the hall.

Anakin wriggled again and said: “Master, you can put me down now.” Obi-Wan hummed but didn’t so much as slow down until Anakin huffed, rolled his eyes, and added an only somewhat petulant “Please.”

It took him a moment to find his balance when Obi-Wan suddenly let go, but soon enough he was keeping pace with his master, just shy of being at the knight’s side. They walked in silence, past the doors to other clans of exuberant younglings and down the almost confusing pattern of turns that made up the Temple’s Crèche. It was, he knew, meant to be confusing so that intruders would have a harder time reaching the Jedi’s most vulnerable members on the off chance they made it through the Temple, guards, and every Jedi in between. He also knew that Obi-Wan was purposefully leading him through the longest route rather than the faster shortcuts one of the other crèche-minders, a young pantoran knight he’d only met with a few times so far, had taught him.

They nodded at the pair of guards stationed at the Crèche’s primary entrance once they’d finally made it through, and again to any Jedi they passed along the main corridor. Anakin glanced curiously at his master when he led them not towards the dormitory or refectory, but instead toward the salles and meditation rooms. He pursed his lips, unsure if it was a good or bad sign.

The salles meant lightsaber practice — Anakin’s favorite — but he doubted they’d stop there. He had, after all, been in the crèche because he’d let his temper get the best of him again, and Obi-Wan had made a point of steering Anakin away from as many potentially aggressive outlets as he could until he was sure Anakin was cool-headed. That didn’t stop him, however, from reaching for the lightsaber on his belt, shiny and still new considering he’d only just built it less than half a year ago. The trip to Ilum had been terrifying and exciting in equal measure, just the two of them instead of waiting for the next crèche clan’s planned gathering. It still awed him sometimes, to brush the warm, steel cylinder and find it there or to sit and listen to his crystal’s song virtually anytime he wanted.

It was a scrap of undeniable proof that he was a Jedi. That, late-comer or not, he belonged here just as much as any other padawan or knight.

Obi-Wan slowed, looking back at Anakin with the kind of unbearably soft, caring smile that told him his master had probably felt where his thoughts had gone. He held an arm out and Anakin hesitated a moment at the familiar invitation, torn between embarrassed frustration and elation at being invited close in a fairly public space, before stepping up so he was beside rather than behind Obi-Wan. He stiffened when Obi-Wan put an arm around his shoulder, but relaxed before his master could even think about pulling away. Anakin pressed into his side, deciding that, right now, eleven-nearly-twelve wasn’t too old for the show of affection, and just about melted when Obi-Wan’s arm shifted to briefly squeeze his shoulder.

His vain hope for the salles was, of course, dashed as they walked passed to duck into one of the smaller, unoccupied meditation rooms. Despite not wanting to complain, Anakin couldn’t completely stifle a sigh as he took in the room: bland, small, and box-shaped, with a few colorful cushions laid out and more stacked against the walls with a few other types of seating for those who might need it. Obi-Wan flashed him a quick smile, squeezing his shoulder once more before letting go and settling on an older-looking, dark blue cushion. Anakin breathed in, held it for a count of four, and breathed out in an effort to brace himself for the ensuing lecture or meditation he was sure to suffer. He picked up a red cushion from the far wall, calling it to his hands with the Force, and sat himself down in front of his master, close enough that their knees almost touched. Then, he waited.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan started after they’d sat in silence for a few tranquil-bordering-on-nerve-wracking minutes, their slow, even breathing the only sound in the room. Anakin met his master’s gaze, shifting slightly as a small kernel of icy unease sprang to life in the pit of his stomach. “You’re not in trouble, Padawan.” Obi-Wan smiled, still soft. Still caring. Anakin frowned.

“You don’t usually bring me here unless I am.”

“I suppose I do, don’t I?” He seemed to speak mostly to himself, brow furrowed and a wry twist to his lips, like he’d found something funny. Anakin cocked his head to one side, watching as Obi-Wan breathed deeply a few times like he was trying to center himself. Or, a traitorous part of his mind whispered, bracing himself. Anakin squirmed in place, hardly daring to breathe himself as the unease in his stomach grew a fraction larger. “I’ve been talking to a few of the crèche-minders you’ve been working with.” Anakin swallowed, thoughts flitting towards the many mistakes he’d made the last few months and especially at first. “They’ve given you rather glowing reviews if I do say so myself,” he said, a small but pleased curl in his lips. And Anakin—

Anakin blinked.

“Really?” he asked, and wished the question hadn’t come out quite so bewildered. His master grinned and Anakin swore there was pride gleaming somewhere in his eyes.

“Really. They’ve enjoyed having you there. Knight D’nali says you have an uncanny ability for distraction,” Obi-Wan teased. Anakin stuck his tongue out and earned himself a bark of laughter. “Master Benni,” he continued, sobering once more, “made an interesting suggestion when I spoke to him last week. I—” Obi-Wan stopped. Inhaled.

“Master?”

A fine tremor had started in Anakin’s hands at some point. Excitement at first, quickly drowned out by a fresh wave of nerves. He’d once thought, at first, that Tatooine would drown in rain the day Obi-Wan Kenobi didn’t have a sharp retort on the tip of his tongue. A nearly three-year partnership with the knight had broken the facade a bit by now, but the sight of Obi-Wan struggling to put his thoughts together unnerved Anakin even after his master smiled reassuringly, reaching forward to clasp one of Anakin’s hands between both of his.

“There are many paths to becoming a Jedi, as I’m sure you’ve learned by now. Guardians, Council members, diplomats, teachers … crèche-minders,” he said, emphasizing the last. Anakin’s breath caught, eyes wide as the implication sunk slowly in.

“Did— Did Master Benni,” Anakin started, strangled and halting. Obi-Wan nodded. “But—But I’m horrible with younglings! I’ve made so many mistakes. I—”

“You are learning, Anakin. No one expects you to be perfect at anything. Much less in dealing with younglings.” Anakin opened his mouth. Closed it. Floundered in his incomprehension until—

“Are you … Are you getting rid of me?” he asked, voice suddenly small and hurt. He turned his hand in Obi-Wan’s grip, wrapping his smaller fingers around his master’s wrist as if he would disappear from Anakin’s sight at any moment.

“No,” Obi-Wan said firmly, one of his thumbs stroking the back of Anakin’s hand. “You are my padawan, Anakin, and I will never abandon you.” Obi-Wan paused there, earnest and scorching in his focus until Anakin nodded, more numb than anything else at the moment. Satisfied, his master continued: “But I do think that this is a good opportunity for you.” Obi-Wan’s eyes flicked down to their hands and then back up, meeting Anakin’s once more, steady and confident and calm. “You’ve changed a little since you’ve been around the crèches. I can see a confidence in you that wasn’t there before, and better control. Not just with the Force, though I’ve no doubt entertaining younglings for hours has done wonders.” Anakin flushed, fuzzy warmth buzzing in his chest at the praise.

“You feel things — everything — so strongly, Anakin, and I fear I’ve not been able to help you much in that regard.”

Anakin opened his mouth to protest, but snapped it shut when Obi-Wan held a hand up for silence and settled for a quiet pout instead, much to his master’s amusement.

“I appreciate your faith in me,” he said with a nod, “and I do not doubt that you would learn a lot at my side alone. But I’m coming to realize where you might need more than I am able to give, not because I don’t want to. Force knows I’d do whatever I could to help you, Anakin, but there are simply things I won’t be able to understand. Haven’t been able to understand,” he added and Anakin frowned at the brief, bitter note he could pick out in his master’s tone. “Master Benni’s offer has as much to do with your potential as it does with your connection to both the initiates and their minders. I— We think it’s something you should consider, despite how it’s likely not the path you first envisioned for yourself.

“You will still be my padawan, always,” he said and squeezed Anakin’s hand to reinforce the sentiment, “but you would split your time between myself and a rotating number of the crèche’s minders under Master Benni’s supervision. You’ll be busy, and kept in the Temple more often than not even if I’m sent out on missions. It may cut into your classes or lightsaber training, in which case you’ll have to work harder to keep up, but there’s not a doubt in my mind that you could do it.”

Anakin nodded, mind whirling and thoughts spinning. There was more Obi-Wan wanted to say, he could tell, but Anakin was grateful for the lull granted to him to gather his thoughts.

“I—” Anakin swallowed, his throat and mouth suddenly dry. He held his master’s wrist a fraction tighter. “Can I think about it?” He winced at how his voice cracked, but Obi-Wan only nodded, smile still firmly in place.

“Of course. You don’t have to decide on anything until you’re ready. Master Benni made it quite clear to me that the offer is open to you whenever you wish to take it, whether that time is now or after you’ve been knighted.”

Anakin blinked, balking at the magnitude of not only the offer, but the old Master’s apparent faith in him, even as the buzzing warmth from earlier threatened to consume him fully now. He felt a fresh flush rise on his cheeks and a sheen of stinging tears prick at his eyes, held back by sheer force of will because he refused to waste the water just yet. Slowly, carefully, Obi-Wan squeezed his hand before leaning forward, reaching out and grabbing a fistful of Anakin’s outer tunic. When he pulled, Anakin went as easily as he used to into his mother’s arms, overwhelmingly grateful for the contact just then.

“I’ll think about it, Master,” he mumbled into Obi-Wan’s robes, his face pressed into his master’s chest. “Thanks.”

Obi-Wan only hummed in response, tucking Anakin close and rubbing soothing circles into his back while Anakin clutched at him in return.

[frenchbreads-writing]

Enji’s Gratitiude {Endeavor | Enji Todoroki}

Anonymous: Hi, I was wondering if you'd be fine with doing an Endeavor x Male Reader where the reader is already engaged to Enji, but not many people know? Shouto is cool with him and greets him when he comes to be a guest teacher/sub for Class 1-A. I'm bad at explaining lol.

Hi everyone! I’m so sorry that it’s been over an entire MONTH since I last posted. I’ve been struggling finding motivation to write and with my classes starting online I have less free time which sucks ass.

So here’s one of my requests I feel like I deviated from the original idea?? Idk but anyways

I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Endeavor x Male reader

Words: 2.1k (2,112 )

Warning(s): None

Requests: 3/5 slots

(Y/H/N)= Your hero name

Masterlist

Rules

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ever since the incident at Camino, it was normal to see a different teacher during All Mights Foundational Hero Studies class. But the class never had the same substitute twice.

Mostly because the teachers were active pro heroes that had to do their jobs.

You were one of these substitutes today.

You were walking down the hallway to the teachers’ lounge after kissing Enji goodbye at the gate said man has been working late for a while now it was.. concerning, to say the least.

You were thinking of ways to help Enji when you spotted Shouto walking to class.

You rushed over to him and slung your arm around his shoulder.

“Hey, kiddo!”

He stiffened before relaxing when he realized it was you.

“Hello, (Y/N) good morning.”

You rolled your eyes ‘Always so serious’

“How’s life been treating you lately?”

You hugged him closer to you as you pulled him along the hallway.

“I’ve needed help with homework lately and my b-friend Midoriya has been helping me.”

A splash of pink appeared on his cheeks.

“So I guess other than that it’s been fine. How about you?”

You noticed his slip up but didn’t comment on it. He’ll tell you about it when he’s ready.

“It’s been fine but your father has been hounding me about being ‘more professional’ in his agency.”

“I don’t want to act all buddy-buddy with some stuck up interns.”

You sighed.

“But I guess it’s still kind of my job.”

You saw the teachers’ lounge coming up ahead so you pulled away from Shouto.

“This is my stop you should get going to class.”

Shouto nodded as he waved goodbye.

Walking through the door you were immediately wrapped up in cloth.

“You’re late.”

You looked up to meet a pair of tired eyes staring back at you.

“Sorry about that Shouta, I got held up on the way here.”

He sighed as he unraveled the cloth and handed you a folder.

“Here’s your lesson plan and I also assume you memorized the student roster?”

You nodded and grabbed the folder but couldn’t take it from his grasp.

“Dude I can’t study the lesson if you don’t give it to me.”

“I forgot to mention something.”

You looked at him expectantly.

“The bell rings in 5 minutes.”

You paused processing what he said.

“W-what?!”

“If you run you could probably make it in time.”

you cursed and immediately bolted out of the room.

Present Mic leaned over to Aizawa.

“Wait, class doesn’t start for another 20 minutes.”

A grin spread on Aizawa’s face.

“I know.”

You had just made it to the door when you felt your phone vibrate. Pulling it out revealed that you received a message from Enji telling you to pick up some stuff from the market before heading home. But what caught your eye was the time.

15 minutes left until the bell.

You groaned and bumped your head on the door. You had to meet the students anyway and you were already there so you might as well do it now.

Stepping into the room all of the talking ceased and the students’ eyes were on you.

“Hello, I’m (Y/H/N) I’m going to be your Foundational Hero Studies substitute for this week. If any of you have any questions for me don’t hesitate to ask I won’t bite… Much.”

Several students shouted their questions at once.

“Woah! Calm down you guys one at a time please!”

But it seemed that your plea fell on deaf ears.

Iida jumped from his seat to the front of the class arms up frantically chopping the air.

“Everyone settle down the teacher is trying to gain your attention!”

That did the trick now they’re back to looking at you.

“Thank you, Iida.”

He nodded and went back to his seat.

“Now you can ask me a few questions but please raise your hands first and I’ll choose one of you.”

The class was quiet for a moment before several hands were raised.

You pointed towards the blonde with a black lightning bolt printed in his hair.

“Where are you from?”

“Tokyo, it’s really nice there.”

A girl with pink skin and horns jumped up.

“What do you like to do for a hobby?”

“I like to cook, spicy pork dumplings are my favorite.”

Shouto raised his hand, what could he possibly want to know?

You pointed to him.

“Can you make cold soba for dinner tonight?”

You hummed.

“You got it, oh and also, your dad asked me to pick up some stuff from the store on the way home do you want to come?”

He nodded.

The rest of the class was in confused silence.

“Wait, are you.. dating his dad?!”

Kaminari yelled.

“No actually, he’s my husband.”

The class erupted into shouting.

“How long have you and Todoroki’s dad been married!?”

You thought for a moment.

“Our 1 year anniversary was about a month ago.”

Everyone looked at Shouto and he nodded.

And once again the class began shouting.

You sighed, this was going to be a long week.

You groaned as you pushed the front door to your home closed it with your foot, slipping off your shoes at the door and walking into the kitchen placing the groceries on the counter.

You went into your room and slipped off your hero suit replacing it with comfortable baggy clothes.

Shouto had changed his mind about going shopping to stay after school with Midoriya so you had gone shopping alone. He promised to be there by the time dinner was ready and nighttime patrol was more troublesome than usual.

“I can handle dinner.”

Hearing Fuyumi’s voice caused you to turn and face her.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded

“Dad’s in his office.”

You thanked her and walked past her.

Knocking on the office door you waited until you heard a gruff “Come in.” Before quietly sliding the door open.

You were met with Enji slumped over his desk writing away on what must be reports from his hero agency.

You simply watched him from the doorway before walking up behind him and wrapping your arms gently around his neck placing a soft kiss on the base of his skull.

He stopped his writing to sigh and lean into your touch.

Enji pulled away to spin his chair around.

Now that you were able to see his face he had dark circles beginning to form underneath his eyes. He had always worked hard but now that All Might has officially retired and he is now the number 1 hero he’s been pushing himself even harder so he can fill the space All Might left.

You placed a hand on his cheek, caressing the scar that marked the left side of his face. He leaned into your hand placing his hands your waist gently pulling you onto his lap.

Leaning forward you pressed soft kisses on his scar slowly moving lower kissing the corner of his mouth before pressing a deep gentle kiss on his lips.

Enji sighed through his nose as he pulled you closer.

You pulled away from the kiss and placed your hands on his shoulders.

“You should take a break, Fuyumi and I will make dinner and Shouto will be here in a while.”

You were about to stand up when he pulled you closer burying his face into your chest breaths uneven and hands shaky.

“Just, a few more moments.. please?”

You didn’t answer, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and holding him tight.

He may have been a brave, strong hero. But even he needed comfort.

You hugged him until his breathing came out slow and even and his hold around your waist loosened.

“Thank you, (Y/N)”

He looked up at you and you met his gaze.

You smiled and patted his cheek.

“I’m always here if you need me, now.”

You pulled away from him.

“I need to help Fuyumi with dinner. Go rest I’ll come get you when we’re done.”

Enji watched your form retreated through the door and sighed.

He stood up and made his way to yours and his shared room and laid down sinking into the soft mattress.

His gaze drifted to a framed picture resting on the nightstand.

You had smirked with your middle finger up while Enji simply glared at the camera.

That was the first real picture you had taken together that wasn’t an awkward angled photo taken by the paparazzi.

‘I don’t deserve him.’

He thought to himself.

He closed his eyes, allowing himself to drift off to sleep.

You had just finished dinner when you decided to check on Enji.

He was out like a light on the bed.

You smiled and sat next to him on the edge of the bed.

You ran your fingers through his hair massaging as you went.

You wished he didn’t push himself so hard but he was a stubborn man but then again you were just as stubborn when you’re passionate about something you care about.

And right now, you just want to help Enji as much as you could.

You stared as his features before gently shaking him awake.

He groaned and peeled his eyes open.

“Dinner’s ready, Shouto and Fuyumi are waiting for us at the table.”

He nodded and moved to stand up.

The two of you made your way to the dining table Where Shouto and Fuyumi were quietly chatting and sat down.

You immediately joined them in conversation while Enji quietly began eating.

Having dinner alone with his children always lead to silence and a tense atmosphere but with you there, you bridged the gap between them allowing them to connect. Even just a little.

No one mentioned it but they were all grateful.

You were the reason their relationship has been improving slowly but surely.

The only one who has been reluctant to repair the relationship had been Natsuo.

But you made it clear that he didn’t have to forgive his father if he didn’t want to. You merely encouraged him to be civil and recognize the change Enji had gone through.

And when he inevitably started crying from frustration and anger. You held him even when he began sobbing out loud saying how much he hated him.

You simply told him that’s fine and it’s his choice to do what he wanted.

Since then you and Natsuo talked over the phone sometimes and when he visits he sits near you or his siblings.

It seemed that you were a missing piece in the Todoroki family.

Dinner went smoothly, Enji even had a few decent moments with Shouto and Fuyumi before conversation died down and dinner was finished and everyone cleaned up and went to their rooms.

Enji slipped out of his shirt as soon as the door closed while you plopped down in the middle of the bed.

You held out your arms beckoning him.

He quietly slid into the bed lying on his stomach and placing his head on your chest.

The two of you sat in silence with nothing but the sound of breathing and your heartbeat in Enji’s ear.

“Thank you.”

You simply smiled and asked:

“For what?”

He thought for a moment.

“For being here and helping me even though I don’t deserve it.”

Enji turned his head to face you.

“You make me want to be a better person I had made such a terrible mistake and I wouldn’t blame you if you had decided to turn the other way. But you stayed and you push me to become a better person every day. And for that I’m grateful.”

You were at a loss for words.

The most emotionally vulnerable he’s been was when he confessed his deeds to you.

But right now he was being so earnest and looking at you with so much love in his eyes, It was a bit overwhelming.

You felt tears prickle in your eyes but you wiped them and hugged Enji closer to your chest.

You were glad to have made a positive change in his life.

“I’ll always be here for you.”

You laid your head back and felt Enji resume placing his head on your chest.

The two of you laid there basking in each others’ warmth.

It was when you were on the verge of unconsciousness when you heard Enji speak.

“I love you so much.”

It was just a whisper obviously not meant to be heard by you. But it melted your heart nonetheless.

“I love you too, Enji.”

The two of you fell asleep, content, and at peace, knowing the two of you meant the world to each other.

[obwjam]

4 with a clone? Any clone you want!

“What can I do to get you to trust me?”

lol back doing these prompts from forever ago, gonna use rex and the 501st boys for this one because they currently have my heart

from this post

———————————————————————

Rex peered through the rusty metal bars, still in awe of what he was seeing. He could certainly understand the fear they must have been feeling, but he would have figured his face was a much better sight than that of a battle droid. Apparently not.

The 501st had been sent on a rescue mission to help a village that had been under siege and h held hostage by the Separatists, and they had finally destroyed the last of the droid army that was holding the civilians at gunpoint. Rex’s job was to go through all the buildings to make sure everyone was safe and accounted for as the rest of the squad set up relief tents outside.

He didn’t expect to find a three-inch-tall person cowering inside a cage.

The tiny thing had stared at him, paralyzed in fear, until Rex moved his hand to unlock the cage and they gasped and pushed themselves into the back corner. Rex had gently tried asking them who they were, what their name was, why they were locked up, but they wouldn’t give him anything but silence.

“Can you at least let me help you outta there?” he asked with a weak smile. He set his blasters down on the ground and took a knee in front of the cage. The little guy couldn’t have been much older than Anakin or Ahsoka. Their matted hair stuck to their tear-soaked face, and their baggy clothes were torn and caked with dirt. They were hugging their legs to their chest and their head rested down between their knees. They looked like they hadn’t eaten in weeks.

“Kid?” Rex tried. He was beginning to think the poor thing didn’t even speak basic. “Can you... do you understand what I’m saying?”

It was subtle, but the tiny tilted their head up and made the slightest eye contact with him before whipping their gaze back to their shoes.

“I’ll... take that as a yes.” Rex sighed. He wasn’t qualified to handle something like this. He was just here to make sure the villagers were safe.

“Look, kiddo, I don’t know anything about your situation, but we set up a relief tent outside. It’s got food and water and anything you could want.” Rex looked down to his hand and flexed his gloved fingers. “Now, don’t freak out, but I’m just going to—”

“NO!”

The sudden shout startled Rex, and he lost his balance for a moment. His hand was about halfway to the threshold of the cage before the tiny had had enough. He stared at them, eyes wide.

“P-please... just... just leave me alone...”

Rex swallowed. Their voice was impossibly small and shaky. He had to strain his eyes just to get a good look at them as they shifted their position. He could barely see flakes of rust shimmering down as they rubbed against the cage bars.

“Hey, I’m not... I’m not gonna hurt’cha,” Rex assured. He held his hands up in surrender. “I won’t grab ya. Promise.”

At the movement of his hands, the tiny whimpered and eyed him warily. They were shaking badly.

Rex’s heart sank. The hut they were in was dark, damp and clearly damaged from blaster fire. The tiny was situated deep in the shadows, practically unnoticeable to anyone who passed by. They kept blinking away tears. Rex couldn’t help but wonder how long they’d been stuck in that cage.

“G-go away. Please,” the tiny stuttered, clearly summoning an immense amount of strength to say those words. Whether they were fighting through sheer exhaustion or pure fear, Rex wasn’t able to tell.

“Kid, it’s not safe in here! This hut is badly damaged. It could collapse at any moment. Just let me take you outside with everyone else—”

“No!” they cried again, flinching when Rex shimmied a bit to stay balanced. “I—I can’t.”

“Can’t? Why not?”

“Because!” the tiny was becoming increasingly exasperated, and the look of fear present in their eyes every time they defied Rex broke his heart. “I don’t... belong.”

“Is this not your home?” Rex was confused. Sure, they were the only tiny being they had encountered here, but it wasn’t uncommon for tinies to integrate themselves into larger clans. “Didn’t the Seps put you in this thing?”

To Rex’s horror, the tiny shook their head. “I was in here long b-before the-the droids got here.”

Rex blinked in shock. He saved this tiny... from the villagers he had just helped to free.

“It doesn’t matter,” they mumbled, drawing their knees closer to their chest. “I don’t need—”

“What can I do to get you to trust me?”

Surprised, the tiny cocked their head. “I—I—”

“If what you’re saying is true, then... then you don’t deserve to keep living like this. Let me take you back with me, I—I can get you the help you need and we can relocate you.”

“Relocate?” the tiny repeated. What was he going on about?

“I-If you just let me take you outside, we can get you some food and water and I can talk to my General about finding you a new home.”

“You mean... you mean leave Terronia?”

Rex suppressed a smile. That was the most optimistic they sounded thus far. “Yeah, kid. We can getcha far away from this rock. If that’s what you want, of course. Once the mission’s over and we leave, we’re probably never comin’ back.”

The tiny sat in silence, eyes darting around rapidly as they tried to piece together what Rex was saying. If he could really get me out of here...

“You’d... really help me?” they asked, still skeptical.

Rex sniffed a laugh and slowly brought his hand to the front of the cage, laying his palm open. The tiny just stared at it.

“I—I dunno...” They were looking at his hand like it was a ticking time bomb. “I—I’ve never...” they trailed off. Rex was pretty sure he knew what they were trying to say.

“It’s safe, I promise. I’ll go slow.”

After a moment of contemplation, the tiny slowly rose to their feet. Rex tried not to stare as they hobbled their way to the front of the cage. They almost looked like a kaadu that was just learning to walk.

The tiny stopped right at the foot of his palm. Rex’s hand came up just below their waist. With a clenched jaw, the tiny looked up at Rex, finally taking in the giant for the first time. He wore a soft, expectant expression, and his eyes shone as he watched every little movement of theirs.

His muscles involuntarily flinched when the tiny swung their leg up, but he was able to keep still as they situated themself in the middle of his palm. They awkwardly crawled to the center and sat down cross-legged, nervously eyeing the fingers that were as tall as they were.

“Okay, I’m gonna move...” Rex warned, giving them one last look before taking his blasters in his free hand and standing up. The tiny wobbled a bit, but otherwise seemed okay.

“Feeling alright?” Rex asked. The tiny nodded, looking around at their new view. They had never been this high up before. Given the situation, it was terrifying, but there was something exhilarating about it. Almost... fun. Adventurous. They found themself peering over the edges of Rex’s hand, soaking in the scenery that once looked impossibly huge and distant. They hadn’t felt this way in years.

Rex couldn’t help but smirk. Even if it was just for a moment, as he thoroughly killed the mood by starting to walk, the tiny wasn’t scared. They even seemed excited. It was adorable.

Rex pushed past the burnt brown cloth that acted as a door. He kept his hand close to his chest, trying to stay conscious of the featherweight in his hand as he slowly strolled through the camp he had helped set up. Several tents were pitched, with food, water, blankets and other supplied piled up in boxes. The villagers chatted between sips of tea and bites of ration bars. It was almost hard to believe they had treated this poor tiny so harshly.

“Captain!”

Rex’s stomach dropped. He has almost forgot about the rest of his squad. How was he going to explain this?

“Rex! There you are! I thought we’d lost ya— oh.” It didn’t take long for Fives to notice the tiny being sitting in Rex’s palm. They were now clinging onto his thumb for support, staring up at Fives with a renewed sense of fear.

Fives dared to speak. “Captain?”

“I found them in one of the huts. They... aren’t really welcome here, so I’m taking them to the General to see if we can help them relocate.”

“I see...” Try as he might, Fives couldn’t tear his eyes away from the tiny. He crouched down.

“Hey there,” he said softly, immediately taking notice of the way they winced when he got near. “I’m Fives. Part of the 501st. What’s your name?”

The tiny stared back, frozen. Above them, Rex cleared his throat.

“They... aren’t much of a talker.”

“Oh. Well, that’s alright,” Fives smiled, trying to show them he was friendly. “Lucky we found you, huh? Who knows what would’ve happened if Rex here didn’t—”

“Fives.”

“Right. Sorry. You’re in good hands with Rex, kid. Literally.” He cracked another smile. “He’s our best. He’ll take good care of ya until we can get you somewhere safe.”

“I think you should go help Echo get the rest of the rations off the ship,” Rex pressed. He was surprised how well he could feel the tiny’s tremors through his glove.

“Yes, sir,” Fives said, holding his gaze to the tiny for a few more seconds before standing back up to his full height. The tiny’s heart skipped a beat. “See ya later, tiny!”

The tiny blinked as Fives bounded off somewhere. “Bye,” they whispered weakly.

“Sorry ‘bout him,” Rex blushed. “A lot of my men are like that. But don’t mind them. They’re totally harmless. They’re just... curious, is all.”

The tiny nodded as Rex continued along. Luckily, they weren’t bothered by any more clones, but the villagers quickly noticed what Rex was carrying. He gave stern glances at each villager that looked almost disgusted that Rex was helping the tiny.

“That’s just awful,” Rex muttered, almost forgetting the tiny could hear him. He craned his neck down. “How could they treat you like that?”

They just shrugged. “‘Cause I’m tiny.”

Rex humphed. He wasn’t sure how inclined he felt to help out the Terronians anymore.

Suddenly, the unmistakable voice of Anakin pierced the busy air. “Rex! Where have you been? You were supposed to check in at 0500.”

“Sorry, General. I... I got a bit sidetracked.” Sheepishly, Rex held out his hand to reveal the once again terrified tiny to Anakin. The Jedi nearly did a double take.

“Rex? What... who is this?”

“This is... ah, I found them in one of the huts. They were stuck in this cage, so I helped ‘em out.”

“A cage?” Anakin was beside himself. He had seen tinies in his childhood, but none since he left Tattooine. He had almost forgotten how he used to try and befriend every single tiny that hung decoratively in Watto’s shop. “What would droids want with a tiny?”

“They didn’t,” Rex said, and that was all Anakin needed to hear to understand what was going on. Anakin’s expression briefly turned dark before he remembered the tiny’s trembling eyes were on him. He softened as he too crouched down, trying to offer a reassuring smile. The tiny could barely breathe. This was a Jedi!

“Hey, lil guy, I know it’s gotta be scary for you right now, but trust me when I say we’ll take good care of you. No more cages. We’ll keep you safe, alright?”

The tiny nodded almost robotically. Their open mouth only produced whimpers and gasps as Anakin stared right through them.

“We can work on that,” he quipped warmly. He could sense their fear so strongly he almost started to feel it too. The poor thing looked minuscule in Rex’s hand, surrounded by ships and tents and giants. “Are you okay with Rex? Or do you want someone else to help?”

The tiny was surprised. Someone was really asking them what they wanted? And a Jedi no less. Everyone seemed to want to help. Maybe this wasn’t a trick...

“I like Rex,” the tiny whispered, so softly that Anakin could barely pick it up.

“You like Rex?” Anakin said again, grinning up at the now-red-faced captain. The tiny nodded meekly. “Well, then I’ll let him help you get settled.” He stood up slowly. “Why don’t you head back to the ship a bit early? And take some extra rations with you. Something tells me you’ll need it,” Anakin winked, savoring the look of pleasant surprise on Rex’s face.

It took Rex a moment to break out of his daze. “You ever been on a ship before?” he asked, though he already could guess the answer. The tiny shook their head. “It might be a little nauseating, but the feeling goes away quickly. For some more than others,” he added under his breath. At this, the tiny chuckled. They almost couldn’t believe their luck.

“Thank you, Rex.”

Rex looked down, locking eyes with the tiny. They weren’t shaking so much anymore.

“Don’t mention it, kiddo. We’re here to help.”

“Caro.”

“What?”

“Caro. My name’s Caro Kann,” they said, taking a sudden interest in their shoes. “It’s... been a while since anyone’s asked for my name.”

“Oh,” was all Rex could say for a moment. There was a lot more to this tiny than he thought. Whatever questions he had, though, they could wait. “I’m glad you felt like you could finally tell me your name.”

Caro didn’t respond, but they didn’t need to. Instead of hugging themselves tensely, their shoulders had relaxed as Rex made his way to the gunship. Whatever was about to happen was going to be scary, overwhelming, and difficult to deal with. That much Caro knew. But it wasn’t very daunting, really. Not anymore.

“Ready, Caro?” Rex asked, pulling his hand up a bit as the gunship doors slid open. “You’ll need to hold on tight.”

Caro nodded and scooted over to Rex’s thumb, where they clung on tightly. Rex curled his fingers in, giving Caro a sort of roof protecting them from the noise and wind. Rex’s other hand was stretched high above, but he had moved the hand holding Caro close to his chest. Caro lurched forward as the gunship took to the air, but they weren’t worried.

They knew Rex was someone they could trust.

[free-pancakes]

Levi and Hanji both falling love in a dance class..

listen ok 

u dont even KNOW, how LONG i’ve thought about writing a dance AU. but i’ve stopped myself every time lol.

THIS right here is one of my favorite choreos i’ve learned!

and can you IMAGINE--the first trio in the video: Hange is the girl in the center, and Levi is the guy in black pants on the right.

so there’s context for ya, here goes nothin:

-----

Levi sat on the floor, and leaned his back against one of the mirrored walls. He arrived early for auditions--he wanted to be able to sit, relax, and stretch properly before they started, and he also wanted to people-watch. He wanted to know what he’d be up against. There were only 5 spots open on this dance team, The Scouts, and it was easily the one he wanted to be a part of. The reputation, the talented dancers he’d been following for a long time--perfect place for him to grow as a dancer. And he wanted this audition to go as smoothly as possible. 

He quietly watched people coming in, and saw a few familiar faces from previous classes. He watched 3 people sit together on the other side of the room--Erwin, Mike, and Nanaba, were their names, he was pretty sure. Another group walked in, who he recognized to be a younger group that had been at the last few workshops, Mikasa, Eren, Sasha, and Connie. Nothing to worry about there, though, they were all still pretty young and had a lot to learn. The large space quickly filled up, and he edged further to the side of the room to have space to stretch. Soon, the room was hot, filled with all of them learning the choreo for the audition, sweat beading on their skin, the music blasting, shaking the room in the best way.

He observed the people around him as he learned quickly, hoping to be paired up with a good audition group. All he knew was that he wouldn’t want to be paired with the group of people to his left. This tall mess of a person, with brown hair tied up in a messy ponytail and wire-rimmed glasses, loud and fumbling through the choreo, was a sight he could only scoff at. The group kept bumping and tripping over each other, and the source seemed to be her--Hange was her name, he overheard. But her clumsiness appeared to radiate all around her, making everyone around her look like they were just as much of a mess as she was. He repeatedly prayed to the dance gods that he would not be grouped up with her.

As the Scout members called for a break, he walked out of the room to refill his water bottle. They’d soon be grouped up with their audition group at random, and he’d have his shot to land a spot on his dream team. He was more than ready.

“Hey!”

Hange ran to catch up to him, staring down at him with wide, sparkly brown eyes. He glared back at her. What annoyed him even more was that upon closer look, he realized that they were wearing the same exact outfit--black joggers, a dark green Scout longsleeve shirt, and white sneakers. He grit his teeth, irritated.

“What?” he muttered with a scowl that would scare anyone else away. But she seemed completely immune, and it threw him off.

“Aw that’s no way to greet someone you just met! And someone who decided not to steal the wallet you dropped---Levi!”

Levi snatched his wallet back from her. 

“I actually moved in down the street from you!”

“Did your nosy ass look at my name and address on my license?”

“Yeah!” she said with a huge grin. “Well, sorry, I do have a tendency to be a bit nosy... but it’s all in good fun! Oh, and I noticed that you’re such a great dancer! You’re gonna have to teach me some of those moves, a lot of what you seem to be good at is what I definitely lack the skill for!”

She was quite observant, he thought. But come on, she seemed to be pretty bad at... almost everything. Well, not horrible, but definitely not enough to make it on such a prestigious team. 

“Why do you assume we’d run into each other after this audition?”

“Oh, I just have a feeling, Levi!” She winked at him, and he could only respond with a small cringe. “Hope we get put in the same group!” she yelled as she walked back into the dance room. Levi was left dumbfounded, frozen where he stood--he forgot why he even left the room. Well, he sure hoped they weren’t gonna be paired up.

But of course, luck did not seem to be on his side. He returned to the room with the groups of 3 posted up on the wall, and in the first slot had him, Hange, and Erwin. 

He might as well kiss his spot goodbye--the only saving grace was Erwin. Maybe he still had a shot. Levi facepalmed as Hange ran over to him and Erwin, grabbing them both and pulling them into a hug. “Oh we’re first! Let’s do this!”

The rest of the dancers sat around the edges of the room, all eyes on them as the 3 positioned up in the center, Hange in the middle, Erwin and Levi at her sides. Levi took a deep breath and tried to focus and get in the zone. The music began to blast through the speakers.

He looked up at the mirror in front of them, and almost forgot what he was doing. Hange had this look in her eyes, determined and frighteningly fierce, yet, still kind? “Weird,” he thought. The cue song lyrics sounded, and they started. And once again, Levi was dumbstruck. Hange... Hange was nailing every move.

What?

Cheers of encouragement sounded loudly around the room, and he saw the senior Scout members even smile and nod, whispering to each other as they watched. All 3 of them synced up with every hard hit, impeccable control in each move, and yet they still made it their own. He was into it, and...

...he was into her.

“Shit, why am I smiling?” Levi thought as his arm brushed up against Hange’s. For a small moment, they made eye contact, and he felt his damn heart flutter. He forgot this was even an audition--he was just having so much fun dancing next to 2 really talented people, but especially with the four-eyed weirdo. The end of the song approached, where there was space for a lot more freestyle. He watched Erwin get into it too--and began dancing much closer to Hange as they fed off each other’s energy.

He felt his stomach drop a bit--was he jealous? Levi was so confused at what was going on inside him, but he found himself gripping Hange’s shoulder lightly, spun her into his arms and held her carefully at the hips and they continued to dance together. She stared at him intensely, and he couldn’t help but lock eyes with her, feeling the heat of a nervous blush reach his cheeks. 

The song ended and a roar of applause and yells sounded around them.

Hange once again grabbed Levi and Erwin and threw her arms around their shoulders happily. 

“Can’t wait to see you both at our first Scout rehearsal next week,” Levi said.

Erwin and Hange looked at Levi wide-eyed.

“What do you mean? We won’t know until tomorrow if we made it onto the team!” Hange exclaimed, confused.

“Oh, well I just have a feeling, Hange,” Levi said as he looked into her eyes.

“Right,” she said with a big smile. “Look forward to seeing you both next week, then!”

[komfortkiri]

HELP WANTED (PART 1)

WOLF QUIRK F!READER x HANTA SERO x EIJIRO KIRISHIMA WORD COUNT: 1,724 TW/CW: BULLYING MENTION, PARENTAL ABANDONMENT, PANIC ATTACK MENTION (ONCE)

NOTES: I’ll make a banner for this series whenever I get my shit together on Photoshop, lol. I’ve been on a Sero/Kiri thing lately plus this was brewing in my head so I wanted to hurry and type it all down before I forgot it.

“ HELP WANTED! 3RD AND FINAL ROOMMATE FOR A 3 BEDROOM, 2 BATH HOUSE. — MUST BE RESPONSIBLE AND RELIABLE. TEXT THE NUMBER FOR ANY QUESTIONS. NAME IS KIRI. ”

You had been staring at this ad for a couple of days now. Surely they must have found someone by now, right? You were new around the area and being on your own, wasn’t quite what you had imagined. Your parents? Well, your mom up and decided to leave you behind after bringing you home from the hospital and your dad.. He’s always been there but you wanted to prove you could finally be on your own. You were 24 for God’s sake, of course you could do it, but sometimes— you found yourself wondering if you bit off more than you could chew. Living in this big city full of crazy quirks of all kind, including yours, it was pretty overwhelming.

Oh, your quirk? Well, you were part wolf and people could tell that from looking at you, due to your pointed black ears that rested on either side of the top of your head plus a tail that was pretty fluffy and was also black in color.. Can’t forget the fangs that you have, too. Your howl could deafen someone for a brief amount of time, distracting them. You also had the agility which mean you could run— fast. 

Growing up wasn’t easy at all. You were often teased about your appearance. Kids would pull your tail, thinking it didn’t hurt you when in reality, it did. You spent majority of your childhood wondering why you had to have such an awful quirk, blaming your father since he was also part wolf. However, as you got older, you became more mature and focused more on yourself. Of course, you apologized to your father, which brought the two of your closer, allowing you to confess the reasoning behind why your child days were so… dark and why you lashed out in such ways. 

Your father was a strong man, taking on a few jobs at a time to support you and his self while also keeping the bills paid on time. You admired him for that but you didn’t want to depend on him anymore which led you to where you are right this second— staring at this damned ad, wondering when you’re going to build up some type of courage to text the number. “Oh, for all that is holy, just do it.” You grew tired of being scared so you brought out your phone and texted the number.

TO KIRI: Hey… I was texting about your ad about needing a third roommate and wanted to inquire about it, if you haven’t found anyone yet.

You thought about it again.. What if it was a scam? Oh, you literally brought your palm to your forehead, tapping it a times then halted when your phone buzzed. You looked at the screen, eyes widening in surprise because it was the number from the ad. You had your phone set to where you wouldn’t be able to see previews of your messages unless you unlocked it fully. You braced yourself for a ‘Sorry, we’ve found someone’ or something along those lines. You wouldn’t be surprised since it did take you forever to even act on this whole thing. You swiped left on the message, unlocked your phone, squeezing your eyes shut then took a deep breath. Your right eye slowly opened, eyesight adjusting to the brightness of your screen then falling amongst the words of this Kiri’s response. Your other eye shot open in shock, both your ears perking up.

FROM KIRI: Awesome! We haven’t really had any luck with anyone reliable.. so since that’s the case.. would you mind if me and the other roommate meet you for, say.. coffee? How’s tomorrow morning sound around 8:30-ish?

Thinking to yourself, were you reliable? Of course, you were. Responsible? Absolutely. You worked at a local animal shelter, coincidentally. You worked more with dogs than cats, though, which came with the territory. Dogs obviously gravitated more to you given your natural wolf scent that only they detected with their sense of smell. Recently, you were moved into a management position so you were paid pretty well, which struck up this whole idea to be on your own, per se. Before you could think any further, did you work tomorrow? No, perfect. You rolled over onto your stomach on your bed, tail moving from side-to-side.

TO KIRI: Of course! That sounds great. There’s a coffee shop a few blocks from where I currently stay.. called Camille’s Cafe, not sure if you have heard of it or would prefer something else?

Were you coming off pushy? Demanding? At this point, you didn’t know and you were so nervous that it was driving you crazy but before you could go into panic mode— you got a text back, agreeing on the meeting place and everything. That was… easy.. almost too easy.. Either way, you were thankful they wanted to meet in a public setting in case they really were scammers. That’s when the thought had hit you.. What if they were guys? Kiri didn’t necessarily sound like a guy’s name.. did it? You laughed at your overthinking. No way these were guys.

With that, you looked at the clock on your bedroom wall, it reading 9:30 PM. You decided to go ahead and settle into bed to get enough rest so you didn’t look like a walking zombie when you met your potential roommates for coffee. You plugged in your phone to the charger and laid down, laying awake for an extra hour or so before drifting to sleep.

After a long day of getting phone call after phone call, text after text from different people saying they were interested in their ad, Eijiro and Hanta were close to giving up. Everyone who showed interest had some type of flaw about them, whether it be a bad history of paying rent on time or being an awful roommate in the past. It was becoming annoying, to say the very least. After denying everyone who reached out, Eijiro thought it was best to just block all the numbers to prevent further contact.

“Bro, I’m beginning to lose hope. We probably won’t ever find someone else to move in with us.” Hanta sat down on the couch in the living room with a sigh, kicking his feet up on the table in front of him. “Might as well talk to Kats about ditching that condo he’s in to move in over here with us.” They had thought about that a few times but even the slight mention of a roommate the first time, their friend, Katsuki, was the first to say not to even consider him because he valued his privacy. They didn’t press further because they understood and knew how he was. 

Eijiro sat on the other end of the couch, directly across from Hanta, leaning forward to prop his elbows on his knees and his head on his hands. “You know exactly how that’ll go, Sero. I say the next person that texts us, we invite to coffee and really figure shit out. It’s been days since we posted that ad, and you know that we need the help we can get.” Hanta nodded in agreement then both their eyes shot down to Eijiro’s phone that lit up with a unsaved number, inquiring about the roommate situation. Hanta moved over to the same side as where Eijiro was to sit down once the red head picked up his phone to look at the message. 

“Huh, look at that! It’s almost like this person heard you.” Hanta chuckled, looking over the message. “What do you think? Coffee?” Eijiro nodded then sent his first text out in response to the inquirer.

TO (YOU): Awesome! We haven’t really had any luck with anyone reliable.. so since that’s the case.. would you mind if me and the other roommate meet you for, say.. coffee? How’s tomorrow morning sound around 8:30-ish?

Sero scowled, “8:30 in the morning, dude? You really must be desperate because we sleep till like noon on our days off. That or you’re hoping it’s a girl.” He laughed then got up to circle around the furniture to head to the kitchen. “I mean, it might be a girl… and it might be good for us. Could teach us a few things.” Kirishima didn’t think about what all that last statement could entail but Sero, thankfully, didn’t catch onto it. “I guess so. Did they respond?” Just as soon as he finished asking his question, another text came through. 

“How do you feel about Camille’s down the road?” Kirishima looked over to Sero who thought for a minute then shrugged with a nod, “Alright, yeah. I could go for one of her bagels. We haven’t seen the lady in a while so we should pay her a visit.” Camille was an older woman who had a heart of gold and loved both Kirishima and Sero. They always were such gentleman when they came in but they stopped going once the crime rate escalated the past few weeks. 

“That’s true. I told the person it sounded great so. Let’s head to bed so we can actually wake up early and look decent instead of a mess.” Kirishima rose from the sofa to head toward his room. Sero called out, “Wouldn’t have to get beauty sleep at all if you didn’t schedule this meeting at the crack ass of dawn.” With that, Kirishima held out his arm behind him, giving Sero the middle finger. “Stop your bitching and go to bed, princess.”

Sero laughed and both settled into bed for the night. While one went to sleep pretty quick, the other laid awake, wondering who this mystery person could be. The thought of whether it was a female or not, really stuck to Eijiro’s mind. He had hoped that if it was, they wouldn’t be scared away by the fact that they’d be living with two guys should they accept the offer at all. Kirishima wanted them to be as comfortable as possible and that’s what he intended on doing and without noticing, he drifted into a deep sleep.

[letsdiscoverkitty]

"Life" Update - May 2021

This is the last of the three updates I have to post at the moment. If anyone actually reads these, especially in one go, you really do deserve a medal and I have no idea what I have done to deserve your kindness and support but THANK YOU SO MUCH (to all of you who are here, you are all truly wonderful and amazing) Okay, let's get going....

I suppose the title is a bit, well, overkill. To say that anyone has been had any sort of "life" over the past year would be a huge misuse of the word. The global pandemic has, quite literally, turned life upside down for the vast majority of people and I know that lockdowns, especially in the UK, have meant that anything other than what was deemed "essential" has been off the cards, which has hit us all hard.

I personally found it quite difficult whilst I was in hospital as although on the one hand it was good to know that there wasn't much that you were missing out on whilst locked on a ward with 15 minutes fresh air (if you were lucky), it did make it hard to find/hold onto motivation at times. Coupled with the fear of how my dad's condition would progress, whether he would make it and what sort of home life I would be going back to; the world suddenly felt even noisier than it had before (which I didn't think was really possible). The situation seemed to further heighten my fears as well as add to them. I found my mind was swamped with so many questions and fears, to then be asked about my future/what I wanted to do with my life (that classic question) and what my motivations were to get better, was too much. I fell blank.

I had completely lost myself and any shed of hope that was left inside of me. I tried to put on a smile; paint a different picture to the outside world but inside I was dark. I was hollow. I was empty.

What was the point? You never know what is waiting around the corner; everything can turn upside down overnight. What kind of 'life' would there be going back to anyway? Would it be possible to go to University anymore or would there still be multiple restrictions in place? would that make the huge financial costs worth it? What sort of society will we be coming out of the pandemic anyway? Will we even come out of this? Will people ever go back to offices again? Will we be able to see friends soon or go out to places? What about travelling? Fun? LIFE?

I found depression swamped me more than ever after dad's accident. I was trying to hold myself together for mum but I was losing all hope of anything ever being 'the same' or 'okay' again. In the end, the only reason I accepted the admission was for mum - I wanted to be able to support her with dad in hospital and us not know what the future held; as much as I wished I could be there all the time, I knew in the state I was that I couldn't. Initially I was told the admission would be a short one, that I could then go back home to support my mum through the family trauma...but that 4 weeks soon turned into over 8 months, which I still can't believe.

Gosh, I am sorry, I seem to have got a little distracted. This was meant to be the POSITIVE update. So let's get to those bits...

NEWS ONE: I HAVE A JOB (starting in Sept)

So whilst in hospital my consultant kept trying to get me to think about what I wanted to do with my life (just the small questions you know *lol*) - in her eyes she thought it would be risky to go back to University to do neuroscience/a degree so intense, and that instead I should think about doing something more creative, taking small steps to get a part time job and then go from there - which, as much as I hated to admit, I agreed with. However after one particularly bad run-in with the nutritionist when she decided to tell me that she didn't think I could achieve a life beyond Anorexia (it must have been mid-way-ish through my admission) blah blah blah (I get that she could have been trying to motivate me but there is a way to go about it and then there are ways to really not go about it and she chose the latter). Anyway, I was rather angry/mad and ended up doing basically trying to prove everyone wrong and started doing some research into my different options...

Long story short: I ended up applying to a degree apprenticeship scheme in business management...I've never really considered something like this before, perhaps partially because at school they drilled into me that business was a "soft" subject as it would not be looked upon very highly for Oxbridge applications *rolls eyes*. Thankfully I did a lot of research into Degree Apprenticeships a few years ago so I knew where to look online. Anyway, back to this application. I ended up going through the process/tests, somehow managing to make it through the initial online stages, then just before I was discharged I was invited to a online interview!

I only had a few days to do the interview before it timed out so I actually ended up doing it In the end the day after I was discharged (not ideal) and I was convinced that I had messed it up as it was one of those ones where you get shown the question for around 30 seconds before being given 2 minutes to respond - i.e. stress.pressure.anxiety.stumbling over words. HORRENDOUS.

I somehow passed the interview and the reviews before being invited to an online assessment centre in Feb, which spanned a whole day and included multiple interviews (the first was a strengths based interview with 2 interviewers for just over an hour - yuck!!!) as well as a presentation which we were given 24hrs in advance to prepare for (we were given 4 'topics'/questions and had to answer all of them in a 15 minute window using aids if we chose to, again to 2 (different) interviewers before having a 45 minute further interview - double yuck!)

Dare I say that I actually enjoyed the preparation for the presentation and the interviews?! It was so nice to have a focus and something to be working on that I was actually really beginning to connect with/want/see myself doing. The interviews and presentation themselves? HORRIBLE but the process reignited something within me. After the assessment centre day we were told it could be 7-10 working days to hear back from them - waiting for anything like this is just the worst so I wasn't looking forward to it and tried not to get my hopes up as these schemes are ridiculously hard to get into... Well, I got the call the next day saying that they were so impressed and out of something like 14,000 applications, I was offered one of the spaces on the scheme!! - I honestly still can't believe it and imposter syndrome is v real -

I know at the beginning of this I sounded very blase about the whole thing but as I progressed through the process, as I read more about the scheme and the business and what it would entail, the more I began to get excited. The more I realised how interesting it was and what an amazing opportunity it would be for me.

Despite this, I was also at the time, finishing up yet another an application to University (for the millionth time, I swear I must be a pro at these personal statements by now) this time for psychology and behavioural studies. This was before I got the offer of the degree apprenticeship scheme, which I knew was a long shot with only a handful of places given for thousands of applicants, so I felt I had to keep my options open (Neuro is still an area of fascination to me but not so much with the INTENSE LEVEL of physiology and pharmacology that I was doing at Bristol. Yes bits of it were good and interesting but that degree was ridiculous and, again, I felt far more drawn towards the behavioural studies and psychology when researching into Universities). I ended up getting 3 offers, 1 interview for Cambridge and 1 rejection (ironically from Bristol, even with my recommendation/support being from my previous personal tutor at Bristol!) - so I suddenly had options. And then the offer from the degree apprenticeship came through and there were even more options to choose from.

It honestly felt so surreal (and still does).

In the end, after a lot of thinking and debating and researching and talking, I decided to withdraw my University application and I accepted the degree apprenticeship role. Overall it is such an incredible opportunity that I knew I couldn't turn down, whereas University will always be there. I am actually getting a little excited about it (as well as extremely nervous, but I must say that the company has made a really positive/good impression thus far, even as far as creating MH podcasts with a psychologist for us and offering things like zoom baking sessions!).

So what is this degree apprenticeship? In short, it is a 3 year course during which I will have a Monday to Friday job at the company (for which the office is actually commutable from home - it is about 1hrs drive, which is not the best but it does mean that I can stay at home for at least the first year and there is a train I could get if I was too tired to do the drive all the time. As much as staying at home is not my long term plan it might help with the transition back to work/education to have a bit of stability and the support). During the first 2 years at the company we do four separate 6 month rotations in different areas to get lots of experience (marketing, supply chain, sales etc) whilst in the final year you get to put in a preference for where you would like to work for the year long placement. During this, every 6 or 7 weeks, we have to spend a week at University (which is not in commutable distance at all so the the company pays for our accommodation, travel and food during this time). As far as I have been told, we also get time during the working week allocated to do Uni work as well as our standard 'desk' jobs. Oh and not to mention one of the biggest sellers for degree apprenticeships....the company is basically sponsoring you so pays ALL of your tuition fees PLUS a basic salary! This means that you come out, in this case, with a Chartered business management degree, 3 years of hands-on work experience, as well as you being pretty much guaranteed a job within the company AND no student debt!!! How incredible is that? PLUS one big perk of the job is that they allow dogs in the office - I mean how could I say no to that?!!!!

So yes, by some magical miracle I actually have a job lined up for September! It still doesn't feel real and I am yet to fully process it. They don't know how it will be affected by COVID but the company did continue the programme last year (unlike some that postponed) so fingers crossed all should be going ahead. I have 'met' the other 4(?) who are on the scheme at my office as well and they seem lovely (including one other person who is my age/slightly older - which was such a relief as I was worried about it being only people just out of college).

I realise that it is going to be tough, I do not underestimate that at all, but I couldn't let anorexia still yet ANOTHER life milestone and opportunity away from me. There was a lot of questioning as to whether I should take it or not; I went back and forth between many spreadsheets that I made but I think this opportunity far outweighs going back to University. I have tried that route twice already and had to leave because of everything/haven't really coped (I think in some ways, being at Uni there is TOO MUCH free time and it allowed my perfectionism to run riot as I always felt like I was 'behind' in one way or another?). And that is not to mention that if I was going back to University, I would need to spend another 3-4 years studying, I would leave with little work experience or job in mind at the age of 29/30 with a mountain of debt.... And as I said before, I can always go back to University if I want to in the future/re train if I decide to, but this opportunity with a global company, well, this will never ever come my way again.

So yes that is my BIG BIG news. But I also have one more bit of news....

I'm getting a kitten. Yes, A KITTEN!!!!! I have so much more to say on this but for now you will have to wait and see. Photos will come when SHE does (a couple of weeks now)!!!

[harpyloon]

little red

Pairing: Harry Potter x Ginny Weasley (BUT this is more of a Ginny Weasley and Sirius Black friendship HC if you will)

Summary:  “Excuse me, but I care what happens to Sirius as much as you do!” said Ginny, her jaw set so that her resemblance to Fred and George was suddenly striking. - Chapter 33: Fight and Flight (Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix)

Warnings: Small battle scene, minor mentions of blood and injuries, small mentions of death... I think that’s about it? Mostly fluff and humor.

Word Count: 6.8k+ (oops)

A/N: hello! This is my first time posting an HP fic here so I hope you'll be kind! This idea has been an itch in my brain I've been wanting to scratch ever since I re-read OOTP. It's mostly canon apart from the ending (y'all know what ending I'm talking about lol). Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!

Order of the Phoenix missing moments

Read on AO3

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

Sirius always knew. He thinks he's known from the very beginning, but even more so when he chanced upon her creeping down the rickety stairs of Grimmauld Place—clutching a hand full of round mud brown pellets that looked all too familiar—with a mischievous glint in her eyes and lips pursed in strict concentration. With as little noise as she could possibly yield, she made it to the bottom of the second landing, eyeing the offending door with the equally offending Silencing Charms casted to muffle whatever it was the "children" were not allowed to hear.

Leaning over the bannister to get a good view of her target, her fiery red mane tumbled over one shoulder like a curtain, concealing half of her determined face from Sirius who was gazing up at the show with amusement; he was suddenly in no hurry to get back to the meeting that was getting fouler by the day. Although the sounds were muffled, he knew exactly how riled up everyone was behind that door, the very reason he had to step out in the first place.

Fighting in the first war, Sirius knew that every moment for members of the Order of the Phoenix was as good as their last. "We might as well seal our deaths," James's voice echoed through his thoughts at the distant memory of him and his friends officially joining the Order that one bleak winter evening. He could still feel Lily's grip on both his and James's hands as she sat between the two, not once glancing at anyone as Dumbledore spelled out every possible danger being a member of the Order would entail.

"Might as well," Lily breathed out and looked at Dumbledore straight in the eye, "Count us in."

Dumbledore didn't need to look at the rest of the gentleman for approval. Lily might have been James's woman, but whatever Lily Evans said the Marauders always followed.

Almost always.

"Ah, crud."

Sirius is yanked back into the dreary hall of Grimmauld Place, just as a putrid ball of manure bounces off the charmed kitchen door and zooms past the cobwebby chandelier, straight for his startled face. Times like these made Sirius truly grateful for his canine instincts, as he stepped aside just in the nick of time.

The mud brown ball splattered onto a worn-out tapestry, right beside the large troll’s leg umbrella stand.

"Oops."

He glanced back up at Ginny Weasley who was grinning sheepishly down at him from the second landing, "Sorry, Sirius."

"Good aim," said Sirius, winking up at her, "Although I believe your mother has the door Imperturbed, little red."

Ginny scrunched up her nose and it reminded him too much of another red head he knew, "That's no good. Well if Dungbombs won’t work then it's a long shot for Fred and George's Extendable Ears."

Sirius quirked an eyebrow, "Extendable Ears?"

Ginny waved a hand, "Eavesdropping contraptions they made up over the summer—" she stopped short and eyed Sirius warily, "Will you tell? Because if mum finds out, you didn't hear it from me."

Sirius grinned. As if anyone would expect Sirius Black, 1/4 of the Marauders, to ever tattle about anyone's mischief. "Bound me by oath, I shall tell no living soul."

Ginny sighed in relief and tucked her hair behind her ears, leaning over the bannister even further. If Sirius didn't catch the tips of her shoes hooked through the railing, he'd be afraid she'd fall flat on her face.

"What are you doing out here?" she inquired curiously, "That door may be Imperturbed but I'm almost positive I heard yelling."

"Precisely why I'm not in there," he sighed and glanced at the kitchen door. He didn't feel like going back inside the chaos at all.

"Really?" Ginny looked even more interested than she was a minute ago. "Don't tell me it's boring?"

Sirius nearly scoffed, "No, little red. Quite the contrary. But being in a room discussing plans for a war you cannot participate in can get quite stale."

He grimaced at his own tone. Sirius wanted to stop feeling sorry for himself, truly and largely through with all the pitiful stares Remus kept sending his way (although discreet) every time Dumbledore so much as shrugged off his requests at lending a hand (or paw) to anything the Order might need. He knew he was being overbearing, which was the last thing he wanted to make anybody feel with his presence. Although being stuck in his wicked mother's house filled with nothing but forbidding memories did no good to his sanity or his morals. He glanced back up at Ginny who was chewing on her bottom lip, deep in thought.

"Anyway, little red, up you go before your mother finds ou—"

"Wanna play Quidditch?"

Sirius blinked.

"Quidditch?"

"I need to practice."

"Trying out for the team are you?" he asked.

Ginny shrugged, "I think Ron wants to have a go, but he's always been Keeper. Just staying on my toes in case Angelina needs a new Chaser this year."

"Chaser, eh?" said Sirius smiling. "Was Keeper myself back in the old days. James, however, was—"

"Chaser, I know. I also knew you were Keeper," said Ginny impatiently. "So do you want to play?"

Sirius peered curiously up at her once again. He wasn't sure even his own godson knew of his Quidditch history. "How did you know I was Keeper?"

Now Ginny had the nerve to look shameful.

"I've been walking past the Trophy room on the third floor to all my classes since first year," she blushed, "Charms was always fun. Professor Flitwick never really minded if I took too long in the loo."

Her embarrassment ebbed when she saw Sirius's proud grin.

"Anyway, all the Gryffindor teams over the years are listed on the Quidditch board," she said.

"And you have them memorized?"

She ignored him. "So? Will you help me practice? Or were you no good?"

Her eyes held a glint of a challenge and was filled with outpouring mischief Sirius hadn't felt in years.

Dreadful meeting forgotten, he asked, "And where do you propose we are to practice? I've played quite a few years to know we need more than a grimy hallway to fly, little red."

Ginny's eyes were filled with mirth, "I know just the place."

 ----—-----

 Ginny Weasley was a fantastic flyer. Her small but built frame made her agile and quick enough to score a couple (more than a couple) past Sirius, who, admittedly, was rusty on a broom, but could neither deny the fact that the girl was akin to a zapping ball of flame, whizzing past him zealously.

The small alcove behind Grimmauld Place (that Sirius previously remembered to be a dump for old furniture the Black family disposed of ) was cleared and mowed into a backyard of sorts; although the grass was a dying shade of brown, weeds scattered the soil, and the lone shrub by the fence seemed to be in its last breath.

"Mum had Bill and I clear it out just in case the kitchen got too full," explained Ginny. "But nobody's used it yet, and we've still got room. Mad Eye had the surroundings Disillusioned so we can fly as high as the attic."

Sirius spent the next couple of weeks training with Ginny on a Comet Two Sixty they borrowed from Tonks. It was the highlight of his days, superbly scheduled right after Order meetings. An angry Sirius coming out of the kitchens to practice was something Ginny looked forward to (and often hoped, although she'd never admit), only because he wouldn't have the mind to hold out on blocking her Quaffles— almost saving every attempt she had at a perfect goal. There were days when the twins and Ron would come out for a match, three-on-two, and Sirius would give Ron tips on how to Keep.

“You’re fast,” he told Ginny at one point, trying to catch his breath after her third goal of the day; the Quaffle zoomed behind his broom and into the makeshift goal post after her clever diversion of swerving around his front. She raised her eyebrows at him as if to say Duh. He rolled his eyes.

“Have you ever considered Seeking?” he inquired.

“Seeking?” she frowned. “Nope. Never. Besides, that position’s not up in the air anytime soon anyway.”

The perpetual loneliness was in no hurry to crawl back into Sirius's mind. Out of all the members of the Order (children included), it was Ginny Weasley (apart from his godson) who made him feel the most welcomed into the world once again; treated humanely, and not some fugitive on the run. She even managed to find the time to occasionally rally him with a game of Exploding Snap.

One particular night that summer, Molly walked in the living room carrying a tray of sandwiches which she set down beside the two.

"Would you know where the extra sheets are, Sirius?" asked Molly, "I need to prepare Harry's bed for tomorrow."

Sirius doesn't miss the way Ginny paused the slightest, then carried on with playing a card down. He swiftly taps the top card with his wand, his opponent only seconds behind. He grins at her cheekily. She missed.

"That point was mine thank you— Ah yes, Molly, of course. I'll have Kreacher bring the sheets up to Ron and Harry's room."

"Harry's arriving, mum?" asked Ginny behind her cards, seeming as though she was deciding which one to play next.

But Sirius could register her unfocused eyes.

"Mad Eye and the rest are leaving at dusk tomorrow. You best tell Hermione and Ron as well. Like twitching worms those two are, can't stop asking when Harry'll be arriving," Molly sighs wistfully, "My poor boy."

Although he hadn't been in the best moods with Molly these days, Sirius couldn't help but grasp her hand to give it a light squeeze.

"No need to worry, Molly. You know Mad Eye. He'll be very thorough."

"Oh, I suppose you're right," said Molly, squeezing Sirius's hand back and reached out to rake her fingers through her daughter's hair.

"Not tired yet, Ginerva? You spent the whole afternoon flying," she looked back at Sirius reproachingly.

He merely shrugged with a small smile.

"I'll sleep when I beat him," said Ginny, finally looking up from her cards.

"Fat chance, Weasley," said Sirius.

Molly sighed tiredly. "Oh why do I even bother," she grumbled as she gathered the empty mugs on the coffee table and walked back into the kitchen.

"Love you, mum!" Ginny yelled after her mother as she grabbed a sandwich on the tray and started nibbling.

"You haven't drawn," she said with a frown.

Looking from the cards piled on the floor and back to the ones she held, "It's your turn. Go draw."

But Sirius didn't draw.

He gazed at his cards instead, as if concentrating hard.

"So," he spoke casually, "my godson will finally be gracing us with his presence. About time."

Ginny didn't answer.

He looked up from his cards to see her shuffling with her own, mumbling to herself.

"I suppose you two are friends?" he asked.

"Hmm? Oh yeah— er — well, sort of..." she trailed off, clearly having no intention to confirm nor deny.

Sirius waited two beats before realizing she wasn't going to elaborate, "Sort of?" He never really saw much of Ginny around the trio while he tailed them restlessly in dog form through Harry's third year.

"Aren't you going to draw?" she snapped irritably, making a show of how annoyed she was that he was interrupting their game.

"Are you?" he spoke slowly, "Friends with my godson?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I heard you the first time."

"But you haven't answered."

"I have! I said yes!"

"Actually, you said 'sort of'."

"Well, I meant 'yes'!" Ginny huffed indignantly, her ears were turning pink. "Are we still playing or not?"

"Fred said you never talked around him," he said casually.

At this remark, blood swiftly rushed to her cheeks and her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Did he now?"

Sirius no longer bothered to hide his grin.

"George said you fancy him even."

Ginny was so red, her freckles were more prominent than ever before. She seemed to be debating whether or not to abandon their game and flee to the safety of her room, or abandon their game to run off and hex her tattle tale twin brothers.

"For your information," she finally spoke, swallowing a lump in her throat before proceeding, "I used to fancy him a little bit. Not anymore, not for a very long time now actually."

“Oh?”

“Over him. Done. Moved on.”

A pair of cards exploded between them, emitting red and orange sparks.

“You’ve done it now,” groaned Ginny. She glanced up at Sirius whom she saw was smiling knowingly at her, his cards abandoned.

“You know what?” she said, “I’m going to bed. Good night, Sirius.”

“Oh come on,” he laughed as she gathered the cards and neatly put them away in a box, “Is Harry that bad? Can’t be as bad as James can he? That git never had the balls to man up to Lily until our 7th yea—"

“I’m seeing someone,” Ginny announced suddenly, which shut Sirius up quickly.

“Seeing someone?” he blinked up at her as she stood from the carpeted floor where they sat and began to gather the cushions around her.

“Yes. Michael Corner. He’s in Ron and Harry’s year, but in Ravenclaw. He's cute. We met at the Yule Ball and been writing at the start summer,” she had a small smile as she mentioned their exchange of letters, as if she had a nice little secret tucked inside her pocket.

Sirius’s brain, however, seemed to have stopped working.

Michael Corner?

His godson was losing a battle to a boy who did his homework? And who maybe even enjoyed it?

"Although I haven't heard from him since we moved here. Can't owl to him now either," she said with a frown, as if she didn't like the thought. "Maybe I should ask Dad to check if I've got post at the Burrow..."

Sirius's head continued to spin at the outrageous thought, but he looked at Ginny calmly.

“Yule Ball, eh? A dancing chap then,” he swallowed the profanities doing somersaults in his brain. “So, a Ravenclaw...”

Ginny eyed him warily, “That’s right.”

He forced an excited grin, “Splendid! Does he play Quidditch? Bet we can invite him over sometime.”

Impossible, Sirius thought. First of all, he was still a fugitive. He reckoned Michael Corner wouldn’t want to be tossing Quaffles with a man who escaped Azkaban; and second, wanted or not, he didn't think he’d ever let Harry get away with letting a girl like Ginny escape from his fingers. He didn’t let James cower away, he sure won’t let Harry either.

He heard her sigh and focused on keeping his face devoid of any inner turmoil.

“He doesn’t play Quidditch," said Ginny.

DOESN’T PLAY QUIDDI—

“Doesn’t play Quidditch?” Sirius raised an eyebrow, keeping his tone neutral. “Interesting.”

What’s she going to do with a bloke who doesn’t play bloody Quidditc—

“So what does he do?” he clears his throat, “in his spare time? Any hobbies?” He seriously should consider an acting career once his name got cleared.

Wrapping the quilt she was sitting on around her shoulders and balancing the tray of sandwiches her mother left on her hip, Ginny pursed her lips at Sirius and huffed, “Nothing that would concern you, Mr. Sirius Black. After all, what other hobbies did you have back in the old days? Other than stirring up trouble?”

She gathered the trail of her quilt with her spare hand and started walking towards the stairs, up to the bedrooms.

“Oh, come on, little red!” said Sirius exasperatedly, “What did I say? Tell me more about Michael Corner! What does he do? What sort of lot does he hang out with?”

He blanched at a sudden thought, gaping at her retreating back in horror.

“Michael Corner doesn’t hang out with Madam Pince does he?”

Ginny trudges up the stairs and doesn’t look back, but her steps progressed louder and heavier.

“If you stop saying his name like that, maybe I’ll think about answering your questions!” she growled and was out of sight.

 ----—----

  Dear Padfoot,

You were right! I did get Seeker! But only because Harry received a lifetime Quidditch ban from Umbridge. I’m sure you’ve heard. That old hag. Fred and George got banned too. I wasn’t supposed to tryout till next year, but Angelina was desperate. You should’ve seen her face. Nearly close to tears every time I see her at breakfast.

I’m sorry you can’t floo anymore. I kept everyone out of the common room the last time. Pavarti left her Herbology homework by the fire but I convinced her to pick it up in the morning instead. I also told the Creeveys that the house elves were cleaning out the common room that night. Nobody wanted to bother them and welcome a bad breakfast. I hope you got to talk to Harry enough. If that old toad didn’t barge in, I’m sure he would’ve told you more about the D.A.

He’s a really good teacher Harry. REALLY good. He reminds me a lot of Remus, the way he teaches. Did you know he can produce a corporeal Patronus? I’ve known of course, from Ron, but seeing it up close was bloody brilliant. You’d be proud. Especially since his Patronus is a stag. Didn’t you say his dad was Prongs?

He’s also seeing this girl, Cho Chang. She’s nice. Very pretty. A Ravenclaw. She plays Quidditch as well. I guess we both have a thing for Ravenclaws? She always cries though, I’ve noticed. It must be hard for her, dealing with Cedric’s death. They were a thing before he died you see. I hope she doesn’t make Harry too sad at least. He’s been looking a lot gloomy these days. Always BROODING. And don’t get me started on his temper.

Anyway, this will likely be my last letter before Christmas. They don’t bother monitoring my owls as much as they do Harry, Ron, and Hermione’s, but it’d be best if you didn’t write back till after the holidays. Hopefully I see you for Christmas. I’ve already got you a present.

Don’t go sulking around too much!

With love,

Ginny

 ----—----

 Never in her life has Ginny ever seen Harry Potter as broken and desolate as he was now, right before her eyes. That is to say she's seen quite a bit of his dismal days. But it was nothing like this. Although, of course, she knew she couldn't feel the extent of his pain, but pain she still felt; the hollow ache in her chest reverberated, first through her arms, paving way for gooseflesh to rise up to the very tips of her fingers, then down her legs and she felt her knees wobble desperately, as if they were telling her, We can carry you no longer.

With her sprained ankle and failing knees, she gripped the bed post nearest her so tightly it croaked beneath her weight. She watched as Harry did his very best to stand back helplessly and watch the healers fuss around Sirius's frail and pale body, casting stabilizing charms and fixing various droughts by the bed where he lay in the Hogwarts hospital wing.

It almost hit him.

Ginny whimpered at the memory of waking to Sirius's barking voice echo through the Department of Mysteries. Despite her busted ankle, she dragged herself up and registered Luna and Hermione passed out cold, while Ron struggled through the binding tentacles of thought wheeling out of the brain that held him captive. Neville and Harry were nowhere to be found.

"RON!" she yelled at her brother, who seemed to have finally snapped out of the laughing jinx he was in. "Hold still—"

"I HATE BRAINS!" screamed Ron. He managed to have pierced a tentacle with the tip of his wand and the bindings around his torso pulsated, as if the brain yelped in pain although no sound came out.

"GINNY, NOW!"

"Diffindo!"

The brain's tentacles weren't severed as Ginny would have hoped, but it weakened its hold on Ron most definitely that he succeeded in wiggling his way out.

"I've got it," mumbled Ron when she bent down to reach for him, "It might get you too." He finally kicked the tentacles of thought away and it trembled furiously on the cold floor, flashes of memories fluctuating.

Both siblings were panting heavily as they paused to catch their breaths. Ron's right knee jutted out in an odd angle that didn't look particularly natural. He shifted his weight to his left backside, scanned the room, and spotted Hermione lying across the room from him with her eyes wide open. His face paled.

"Hermione," whispered Ron weakly.

Ginny glanced over at her and Luna's lying forms.

"They're stunned," she said. "We need to get them back to school. We all need to get out of here."

She wouldn't have known if Ron heard her for his eyes were fixed solely on Hermione, but he gave a quick nod, "Yeah we—," his eyes suddenly darted around, searching, then he looked back at Ginny in panic.

"Where's Neville?" his eyes were filled with fear, "Where's Harry?"

A deep booming yell echoed from the open door, and Ron's face first scrunched up in confusion, then suddenly turned to a hopeful expression.

"Is that— is that Moody I hear?" his voice was almost weepy.

"Yes," said Ginny, struggling back up on one foot. "And I think I heard Sirius too."

She tried helping her brother up to his feet but to no avail. His right knee was most definitely not okay.

"I'm going to get help," she said. "Stay here and look after the others."

Ron looked like he was about to protest but swallowed the argument quickly. "Wait—" he quickly glances at Hermione then at Ginny's angry and swollen ankle, "you can barely walk."

"Compared to you I can," she said and winced as she shifted her weight. "Look after the others."

Ron swallowed painfully but nodded, his eyes finding Hermione again. No one would dare doubt Ginny's hexing skills, but as the older brother it was instinct to worry.

"Hurry back, yeah?"

Ginny stared at her youngest brother and felt her heart swell almost as much as her throbbing ankle (the pain intensifying to the point of numbness, which made it easier to ignore). People always thought it was Bill that she favored the most among her brothers, them being particularly close as the eldest and youngest. But while their closeness was unquestionable, there was one brother whom Ginny revered the most. Sheer—although closeted—admiration.

Ron always wore his heart on his sleeve, no matter how much he tried to clam it up—which Ginny admired profusely, if not envied at times. While he regularly complained under his breath about the state of poverty their family lived in, his face often falling behind his mother's back whenever he found out he'd be inheriting something of his older brothers' (like Charlie's old set of school robes instead of getting fresh, personally tailored ones from Madam Malkin's)—it was exactly this that made him all the more benign.

It was Ron who always lent Ginny his hand-me-down broom after an afternoon of spitting out tantrums all over the Burrow when her other brothers refused to let her play along, Ron who merely huffs in annoyance every time she barges in his room, plopping down on his bed as she talked his ear off—though he let her anyway; Ron who was just so selfless despite all his lamenting, never thinking twice about giving.

You're my hero, Ron, Ginny thought to herself as she gave her brother a nimble nod.

"Wand out," she cautioned him, and he snorted.

"I'll give those Death Eaters a Bat-Bogey hex in your honor."

Ginny had to swallow back her tears. She didn't know why she was getting emotional at this point. Perhaps it was the thought of death not very far from where they stood, as Death Eaters swarmed the Ministry. She pointed her wand to his knees to distract him from the glassy sheen forming in her eyes.

"Ferula."

Bandages spun up Ron's leg, strapping it tightly to a splint. He winced as they secured themselves and then he heaved a grateful sigh. "Thanks. Hold out yours."

Ankle patched and throbbing dulled to a minimum, Ginny limped out of the Brain Room, wand out and ready.

If Sirius and the others are here, we'll be alright, she thought, fighting down the growing panic that if the Death Eaters didn't get to him first, the Ministry would capture him instantly. He was, after all, still a mass murderer on the lose. She refused to think about Harry, who was god-knows-where, probably being impulsive and angry and careless with a helpless Neville on his toes.

Ginny evaded all abhorrent thoughts and swiped traitorous tears from her cheeks angrily.

He has to be okay. They all have to be.

She headed straight to the only other door still open, the one through which the Death Eaters themselves had come. Gripping the frame tightly as she fought through the pain on her ankle, she saw—to her horror—Mad-Eye lying on his side in the middle of the room by the dais, bleeding from the head, his magic eye spinning across the floor near a paralyzed Dolohov; Kingsley was swaying across her field of vision, battling with a now mask-less Rookwood, and she saw Remus, who had successfully disarmed Lucius Malfoy.

Her eyes scanned the room in panic, but was suddenly swept with utmost relief at the sight of Harry and Neville hobbling up the stone steps towards her.

Ginny stopped the scream from bubbling out of her throat, noticing the glass spherical prophecy tightly clutched by Neville's hand, not wanting to draw attention to them any further.

“Come on!” she heard Harry cry desperately, hauling at Neville’s robes. “Just try and push with your legs —”

Something hot like liquid heat was suddenly melting down Ginny's ankle. She looked down to see that the bandages Ron had given her were glowing a deep purple. It's not the bandages, she realized, it's my foot— the glowing stopped.

What the—

"It won't last, Ms. Weasley, but it'll do long enough."

Ginny turned, wand raised, to see Albus Dumbledore standing behind her, his own wand equally aloft, his face white and furious. She felt a kind of electric charge surge through every particle of her body—they were saved.

"Professor," she stammered, "I—"

"Mr. Longbottom is in need of your assistance, dear one," Dumbledore said with no preamble. "Go. The spell on your ankle won't last long."

She wasted no time.

Running down the stone steps, she ran into Neville, clutched him by the arm, and he almost sagged on top of her completely if it weren't for Harry holding him up.

"Ginny!" Harry looked at her in panic. "Where's Ron?"

"He's fine," she panted, hitching one of Neville's arms over her shoulders, "They're all fine. Harry, listen. Dumbledo—"

Announcing his presence was futile, she realized, as screams of fury suddenly rang throughout the chamber.

All three of them turned back to see one of the Death Eaters running for it, scrabbling like a monkey up the stone steps opposite. Dumbledore’s spell pulled him back as easily and effortlessly as though he had hooked him with an invisible line.

Only one couple were still battling, apparently unaware of the new arrival. Ginny saw Sirius duck Bellatrix’s jet of red light: He was laughing at her. “Come on, you can do better than that!” he yelled, his voice echoing around the cavernous room.

The second jet of light barely missed his head. Sirius staggered backwards in shock. Ginny saw Bellatrix's face erupt into a triumphant smile as she raised her wand, pointing straight for his chest—

She heard Harry yell to her right but she had no more time to think, adrenaline and desperation pumping through her veins. She grabbed the prophecy from Neville who's grip had slackened in fright. This is way lighter than a Quaffle, a voice spoke in the back of her head as she let go of Neville, though unaware of doing so, shifted her weight back for a split second and released the glass orb with all her might, aiming for the space between Sirius and the tip of Bellatrix's wand.

"Avada Kedavra!"

It almost hit him

The jet of green light flashed through Ginny's memory, colliding with the the spherical orb of the prophecy instead of Sirius's chest, although its force was so strong that it knocked him off his feet, he passed out cold on the Death Chamber floor....

"Ginerva? Ginerva, dear, I told you to lie back down— Oh, my sweet," Madam Pomfrey's voice shook her out of her painful daze. She was back in the hospital wing, hand numb from clutching the bed post so tightly; the pain from her ankle was making her dizzy that she didn't realize the tears pouring out of her eyes.

"Is," she sniffed and wiped her nose on her sleeve messily, "is he going to be—"

"The healers are doing everything they can," Madam Pomfrey murmured quietly although her face was grim. "Let me have a look at your—"

"I'm okay," said Ginny stubbornly. She wouldn't move an inch farther away from Harry and Sirius than she already was.

"Ginny, I swear if you don't let Madam Pomfrey look at your leg I'll hex you myself," she heard Ron growl, although tiredly, from the bed behind her. "There's nothing you can do just lie back down."

Ginny gritted her teach so hard they almost hurt as much as everything else. She stared at Sirius's lying form helplessly from afar, then shifted her eyes back to Harry who now had a tired-looking Remus guarding him from shaking his godfather awake.

She gave a defeated sigh and let the school matron lead her to bed, sleep consuming her instantly no matter how hard she fought it.

 ----—----

 It's been almost a week. A week. And Sirius still hasn't woken.

Ginny was finally discharged after four days; Madam Pomfrey casted final charms to fully mend her ankle and prescribed her with the Potion for Dreamless Sleep to help her with her shock and nightmares.

Ron and Neville had to stay for two more nights, and Hermione for another week—the curse Dolohov had used on her, though less effective than it would have been had he been able to say the incantation aloud (Hermione had cast a Silencing Charm on him before he attacked), had nevertheless caused, in Madam Pomfrey’s words, “quite enough damage to be going on with.” Hermione was having to take ten different types of potion every day and although she was improving greatly, was already bored with the hospital wing.

This gave Ginny every excuse to drop by everyday without fail. She brought everyone Honeydukes sweets, some pastries from Dobby, and fresh flowers for Sirius's bedside. She's also piled his stash of Pumpkin Pasties so much that she heard one of the healers attending to him scoff in disdain.

"If the rebound curse won't kill him, those sweets will, deary," said the healer in disapproval.

But Ginny didn't care, of course, she merely hid the stash under his bed, away from prying eyes. He would thank her when he woke up. For a laugh (more for her than anyone, really), she also hoarded volumes of The Quibbler from Luna, specifically the editions flooded with speculations of Sirius being the innocent singing sensation Stubby Boardman, lead of the band The Hobogoblins.

"You have to wake up now," she told his sleeping form, making sure to sound as miffed as she possibly could. Dumbledore said that talking to him might help, although she suspected he only said so for Ginny's sake. She sat on the edge of his bed one Hogsmeade morning. She barely went anywhere besides the hospital wing these days—despite Dean Thomas's efforts in coaxing her a trip to the Three Broomsticks. "You haven't even seen me play Seeker, Stubby, what happens when your godson takes it back next term?"

But she was only met with Sirius's steady breathing. Which was a good thing, at least is what the healers from St. Mungo's said. The collision that the Killing Curse and the prophecy made was enough to block the curse's intentions, but was able to emit some kind of stunning aftermath, knocking Sirius out cold. She remembered when they all thought him dead, Harry shaking with fury as he dashed out of the Death Chamber after Bellatrix Lestrange.

"You should've seen him, Stubby," she whispered, her eyes roaming all over Sirius's pale, gaunt face. "He looked like he would've killed for you."

She thought she saw a hitch in his breathing, a change so subtle that she held her own. But the following breaths after that were as steady as it had bin, making her convince herself it was only her hopeful imagination.

"Ginny?"

She was so focused on studying Sirius's breathing that she didn't hear privacy curtain open behind her.

Harry Potter, skinny, pale, and hair mussed up as ever, stood awkwardly by the foot of his godfather's bed, his hands holding a bowl of what smelled like onion soup with sides of sliced bread. His glasses were askew and misty from the spring wind and he looked like he just shimmied out of bed and put on the first jumper he saw, because he was wearing one with a big 'R' on his chest.

It was then that Ginny realized that she hasn't seen much of Sirius's godson in the long period that he's been lying in the hospital wing. Every time she visited, even when the others were still around, Harry would've already left to god-knows-where, or she would have had classes and missed running into him. Even sightings in the common room or at the Great Hall were rare.

It's not as if you've been avoiding him, Ginny thought to herself as she stood up to leave, it's just bad timing is all.

"Harry," she smiled at him and nodded at his bowl of soup, "That for the dog?"

He gave out a laugh that made her insides thump erratically. She hasn't seen a smile on his face for so long and she's missed it terribly.

"Yeah," he said with a small smile, and looked at Sirius. "Looks like he's not hungry still."

His smile still held its place but his eyes were almost cheerless.

Crossing her arms dramatically, Ginny turned to glare at the benumbed form before them, "Hear that, Stubby? Your godson's been bringing you breakfast and this is how you repay him?"

Again, they were met with silence and she heard Harry chuckle, "Maybe that'll work," he said, "I've been spitting praises all over to try to get him to wake."

She rolled her eyes, "Don't spoil him," she warned although she smiled fondly down at Sirius, "he might be enjoying it too much."

Harry let out a tiny laugh once again, making her warm all over. She loved seeing him not brooding. It was a rare sight this term, and now that Umbridge was gone, she hoped she'd see more of it.

"Well," she started as she scanned the floor for her book bag, "I'll leave you with the rascal then—"

"You don't have to leave," said Harry and she looked up at him to meet his alarmed gaze. "Really, Ginny I—," he stammered, "you don't have to go."

Ginny stared at him worryingly, "Are you sure? You don't have any secrets to talk about?"

He chuckled, "Yes. I mean no. No—we— I have no secrets," he was surely flushing now, and Ginny sniggered.

"Well alright then," she said, hoisting herself back up on the edge of Sirius's bed. "Is that onion soup I smell? Haven’t had breakfast."

Harry sighed with relief and rounded the bed, grabbing two spoons from his godfather's bedside drawer and sagged down the chair beside Ginny's legs. They sipped the onion soup in silence for a few minutes before Harry cleared his throat and glanced up at her.

"I—," his face was red and she was sure it was because of the soup, "I never got to thank you."

Ginny raised her eyebrows at him questioningly before slurping loudly from her spoon. Harry burst out laughing.

She grinned cheekily at him, legs swinging back and forth on the edge of the bed, "What for?"

He shook his head, "What do you mean 'what for?' You saved Sirius."

It was Ginny’s turn to look embarrassed. Seeing as this was the first time they were actually talking about what happened at the Ministry (the first time talking at all after the Ministry), the subject of the prophecy that Ginny so careless sent flying (quite literally) was never mentioned, not even by the others. She didn't think anybody even knew about it—apart from Harry and Neville and other members of the Order present in the Death Chamber. She had little thought for it, all her worries focused on her friends and her brother getting better.

"Barely," replied Ginny, shrugging nonchalantly at the boy in front of her. "To be honest, I could've thrown something more durable," Harry laughed at this, "but balls are the only thing I'm good at aiming with and that was the closest thing." She frowned after a thought, "To be honest, I wasn't thinking at all."

Harry shook his head again and looked at her with something she could've described as awe, "Well I'm glad you didn't think," he said and a hint of despair flashed in his eyes, although quickly appeased. "I don't even want to think about what would've if you did."

They were quiet for a moment, both now focused on Sirius's rhythmic breathing. Ginny chanced a deceitful glance at the boy she so perplexingly pined for for so long. She couldn't deny that her fourth year in Hogwarts drastically changed now that Harry was more to her than just her brother's best friend. She could actually call him her friend. She couldn't believe it took her this long to woman up and finally start talking around him, realizing how much of an awkward bloke he was.

Well, I won't miss out on you anymore, Harry Potter.

She smiled wistfully at the fact that his hair was as unkept as ever, not realizing that her own hand was reaching out in a foolish attempt to tame it...

"Hey, I was thinking!"

Ginny gave a startled jump, Harry's voice slicing through her shameful haze, and reared back her hand so fast that her elbow hit Sirius's knee.

"OW," she yelped, clutching her joint closely.

"Wha— are you okay?"

"What in the—what is this man made of? Steel?" She rubbed her elbow, wincing, and hoped Harry took no notice of her mortifying intentions.

He merely laughed, "No, I don't reckon Sirius is much of a Superman."

"A super what?"

His eyes were full of amusement as he gazed a Ginny's disgruntled face. "Never mind. Listen, what do you think about trying out for Chaser next year?"

She blinked at him.

"Chaser?"

Harry blushed awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Yeah I mean—er—I know you're Seeker now," Ginny was smirking now, "but uh, you have really good aim and— well, that's not saying you're not a good Seeker already. I mean— I don't even know if next year's Captain will take me back in if—"

Before Ginny could stop herself, she grabbed a piece of uneaten bread from the meal they just shared and flicked it straight for Harry's face.

It hit him square in between his eyebrows, nudging his round glasses even more askew.

His expression was priceless.

She laughed boisterously at his stunned look. He was gawking at her.

"That aim good enough for you, Potter?"

It took him a beat to recover, a wide playful grin spreading across his face. "Pretty good, Weasley," he admitted, then tapped on his forehead mockingly, "Could definitely use some practice though, you missed the scar."

Nothing but absurd and ridiculous banter issued after that, their conversation flowing with so much ease, that Ginny swore to herself she would never allow her foolish feelings to keep her from Harry ever again.

And if she wasn't so enamored by his breath-taking laughter, she might have noticed the impish ghost of a smirk from the patient lying on the bed.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 278: MOMO IN CHARGE

Previously on BnHA: Deku and Kacchan were all “SIR, THAT’S OUR EMOTIONAL SUPPORT SENSEI” and got really ferocious and made a very passionate attempt to blow Tomura up and it was great. It basically did nothing, but it was still great. AFO was all “COME HERE LIL BRO”, and Tomura was all “silly Sensei, you can’t just take over my mind and body just like that”, and he was very confident of this despite there really being no evidence to back it up, but okay! Gran was all “time to make the fandom mad at me” and grabbed Tomura by the collar and yelled at him about Nana a bit, and then Bakugou and Endeavor made an even MORE passionate attempt to blow up Tomura, which may or may not have done some actual damage. The chapter ended with Gigantomachia battling Mt. Lady, just kinda out of the blue, which is FINE, but she had better be all right, though!

Today on BnHA: Everyone is all “WAUGHH IT’S GIGANTOMACHIA” and running around freaking out about it. The U.A. alums all kick some ass, and pretty much everyone else not from U.A. does jack fucking shit. Mt. Lady, who I plan on naming all of my future children after, does her best to stop Machia but he keeps flinging her aside. Kamui Woods is all “here I come with Midnight to put Gigantomachia to sleep!” and is PROMPTLY FUCKING MURDERED!? by Dabi because he’s a flammable tree man, and so Midnight falls all the way to the ground and is badly injured. So then she’s all “well I better call the most competent person I can think of to fix this mess” and dials up YAOYOROZU FUCKING MOMO, who proceeds to take charge LIKE THE BOSS SHE IS, and mobilizes the rest of the kids. And honestly I have more faith in them than in any of the adults at this point, so yeah, you know what? Let’s do this.

so I am possibly a bit spoiled on this chapter because I did a “top five predictions” post earlier this week, and someone replied to that yesterday on Thursday saying that they were mostly correct. I don’t know exactly how close to the mark I was though, and in any case most of the predictions were just “so-and-so shows up, probably”, so it’s not too bad. we’ll see how it goes!

OH THANK GOD MY BABIES ARE SAFE

I mean, CLEARLY they’re all about to be in horrible danger, seeing as Jirou is about to inform them of the whole “THE BIG GUY EVERYONE WAS AFRAID ABOUT WAKING UP WOKE UP” thing, but in the meantime at least Kami and Toadette and Honenuki made it back to the group safely

also Kaminari’s use of “Jirou-Jack” here is fucking inspired and I want him to teach a class on nicknames. isn’t he the one who coined “Yaomomo” as well? this boy has a gift and it needs to be appreciated

so Jirou is all “SOMETHING REALLY BIG IS COMING”, and actually she says “INSANELY HUGE”, which if anything is still an understatement, hard as it is to believe

WOW

“A BAD GUY IS HEADING THIS WAY?? SOUNDS LIKE IT’S TIME TO ABANDON THE CHILDREN IN THE WOODS” kjlfakh okay you know what?? fine!! you weren’t even going to do anything anyway so let’s not pretend!!

holy shit it’s like Mt. Lady isn’t even there

look at those speed lines!! goddamn. I just felt this huge rush of empathy for Mt. Lady though. like can you imagine growing up with this super-destructive quirk, and managing to become a hero with it against all odds, and having to put up with the manga making fun of you all the time just because sometimes you have a tendency to DESTROY A LOT OF STUFF, but it’s not like you can help it!! but the upside has always been that when your quirk is on, you are fucking UNSTOPPABLE though. so even though it’s been a hell of a rough ride for you, it’s worth it because you’re a complete badass and the number of people who can beat you out in terms of sheer physical strength is probably in the single digits. and you’re working really hard too, and lately you’ve been moving up through the ranks and actually becoming a damn fine hero if I do say so myself (and I do), and it’s like, about time though?? like finally, finally it is all starting to come together for you. and then this snarling trashrock person suddenly comes stampeding along and you put your all into trying to stop him, and it doesn’t even do a damn thing. like, holy shit. that’s just not fucking fair and YOU DESERVE BETTER, MT. LADY

anyway so she’s still hanging in there for now though so let’s check in with our villain squad riding on his back

lmaooo they’re all “I don’t even understand what is going on here”

YOU GUYS, THIS IMPLIES THAT THEY WERE ALL PLUCKED OFF THE GROUND BY THE SCRUFFS OF THEIR NECKS AND THEY HAD ABSOLUTELY NO SAY IN THE MATTER OMG. like I’m picturing Spinner being held by his cape pinched in between Machia’s thumb and forefinger, and awkwardly trying to lecture him like a mom with his hands on his hips all, “BAD GIGANTOMACHIA! NO! NOOOUAGH -- !” and cutting off with a yelp as he’s dropped onto his back

and I am glad they got Toga some clothes! I like to think Gigantomachia grabbed those for her as well. so thoughtful

wow Skeptic actually wants to go back to Re-Destro??

color me legit impressed. I underestimated your loyalty my dude. and let me also just take this moment to extend my gratitude toward Horikoshi for leaving the rest of the MLA out of it because good fucking riddance to them, goodbye forever hopefully!!

I guess they’ll be needing Skeptic’s quirk down the line for some reason? maybe he is meant to be like a new, less out-of-control Twice. smdh y’all out here trying to replace your dead buddy like a pet goldfish

who is this “they” Dabi is referring to

do you mean the heroes? lol yeah I guess they’re pretty distracted by the literal fucking kaijuu you’re currently piggybacking on

SIGH

“the Jakku team must’ve made a mistake” BOY, I’LL SAY. you know what, don’t even talk to me about that yet. it’s still too fresh. suffice it to say that your suspicions are correct and things in Jakku are not very daijobu right about now

anyway here’s a closeup of this bubble person just cuz

they are everything and I want them to be my friend. also there’s a squid person a few paces behind them who can probably do anything a squid can do. or they might actually be a shark person, actually. I don’t know. either way I love them

GETEN PLEASE GO AWAY

WE ARE PHASING OUT THE MLA!! MOVING FORWARD IT’S ORIGINAL LOV ONLY!! I’M SORRY BUT YOU DIDN’T MAKE THE CUT. we already have an ice character so shoo

OH DAMN MY MAN CEMENTOSS HAS HAD ENOUGH OF HIS NONSENSE TOO AHHHH YESS

1) hey so Cementoss is legit terrifying who’d’ve thought

and 2), did Cementoss always have a mouthful of gigantic perfect teeth each the size of a slice of bread, or is this just something I’m only noticing now because I’m behind the curve. either way, let me just say sincerely, DKJDLKFJLSKJG

RE-DESTRO YOU GO AWAY TOO!!

@waywardfacegarden​ you asked the other day which are the characters I actually dislike, and this is one of them lol. he’s just a big ol’ prick, and on top of that has the audacity to not even be interesting in any way so as to balance it out. anyway so apologies to any Re-Destro stans out there but I basically spend every panel he’s in hoping that someone will punch him in the face hard enough to finally make him shut up

anyway so my man Edgeshot is here though, finally!! but of all the people for him to fight! this is a real predicament for me. the most soothing character in the series contrasted with the character who grates my nerves the most. Edgeshot’s sexy ASMR voice is gonna be drowned out by all of RD’s punching and self-important ranting in the anime and I’m lowkey devastated but I’m gonna pull myself together and read on

SPEAKING OF SELF-IMPORTANT RANTING

Edge, if you can liberate us from having to put up with his insufferable ass once and for all I will be so grateful to you. can you do this. please. for me

and it looks like some other boring MLA villains are following along behind Machia so I’m gonna need someone to kick their asses as well. please

-- YESSSSSS

okay so now I see what that comment on my prediction post was referring to lol. I did indeed have my fingers crossed that these two would show up again, and sure enough! THE GANG’S ALL HERE YAY

and Mt. Lady is being sumoed aside!

anyone want tonight’s lotto numbers. during this brief fleeting moment of having my predictions be actually credible, I would just like to say that Hagakure is the U.A. traitor. thank you and goodnight

OH NO KAMUI IS WORRIED

HE LOOKS SO PANICKED?? OUT OF THE BLUE I SHIP IT SO MUCH?? I keep forgetting they’re on the same team and stuff and wow, I need to calm down

LOL MIDNIGHT IS ALL “NO TIME FOR SHIPS!!”

I wonder if her quirk will actually be enough to take him down? this is something I’ve been itching to see for a long time, actually. just how powerful is she? we know her quirk is more effective on males than females, but is anyone actually capable of resisting it? imagine if she really did just knock Gigantomachia out after all of this buildup. that would be some god-tier shit omg, DO IT

(ETA: I am just going to assume that since Horikoshi had to go to elaborate lengths to take her out of the fight, this means that her quirk really was capable of knocking them all out. another tragic case of Too Badass For The Plot. y’all better respect Midnight.)

YESSSSSSSS

is she stripping. you know what -- don’t think about it. I won’t let you ruin this for me Horikoshi. Midnight’s gonna be a badass because the ladies are fucking ruling this arc and that’s all there is to it

NOOOOOO

DABI GET BACK HERE I JUST WANT TO TALK!!

oh thank god, she’s all right. BUT KAMUI ISN’T THOUGH DLKJSFLKSJDG??!

did Kamui Woods just... die

(ETA: okay but for real, is there an actual curse in effect on the Billboard Top Ten right now, though?? did one of them accidentally disturb the tomb of some ancient king??)

...

( ･ั﹏･ั)

oH MY GOD!?!

NOOOOOOO WHY ARE YOU SO QUICK TO SLEEP ON MAJESTIC, LET’S SEE IF THEY CAN DO IT!! GIVE US MAJESTIC GOD DAMMIT

(ETA: Horikoshi is seriously just yanking our chain at this point. when Majestic finally does show up, he or she better have the coolest fucking quirk of all time, that’s all I’m saying.)

okay how badly injured is Midnight here, though?? she just fell all that way?? DO I NEED TO BE REALLY MAD. I CAN WORK MY WAY UP TO IT PRETTY QUICKLY, JUST SAY THE WORD. I’M ALREADY HALFWAY THERE HONESTLY. WHERE’S KAMUI WOODS

!!!!!!!!!!!

AND JUST LIKE THAT MY ANGER EVAPORATES INTO THE NIGHT, YESSSSSSSSS!! MOMOOOOO

holy shit. “a quirk that can stop that thing,” she says. and goes and calls YAOYOROZU FUCKING MOMO y’all I am barely holding myself back from SCREAMING right now I...

you guys

you guys. if Midnight and Yaomomo team up to take down Gigantofuckingmachia using some sort of MOMO MADE A MACHINE TO SPREAD MIDNIGHT’S QUIRK strategy, or whatnot?? I will fucking die on the spot. you can end the manga right there. Kacchan you can keep your quirk I don’t even care

“IT MIGHT BE AGAINST THE LAW” lmaooooo insert John Mulaney “WE’RE WELL PAST THAT” gif here. holy shit. listen, that is fine. if anything it’s even better

WHAT THE FUCK

DO I NEED TO START GETTING REALLY MAD AGAIN!?!?! FUCKING WHIPLASH, IS WHAT THIS IS, BUT YOU JUST TELL ME WHAT SORT OF OVER-THE-TOP REACTION IS NEEDED HERE AND I’LL GO FOR IT

(((( ;°Д°))))

[GRABS HORIKOSHI BY THE COLLAR] listen, you. if you only just now, for the first time ever, gave us a lady hero actually mentoring another lady hero, which we have somehow NEVER HAD BEFORE in almost three hundred chapters, only for you to then KILL OFF THE MENTOR IN THE MIDDLE OF HER GODDAMN SPEECH TO THE MENTOREE, I will... there’s... I’ll... okay, listen. DON’T. THERE WILL BE A RECKONING. CAPSLOCK SUCH AS THIS WORLD HAS NEVER WITNESSED!!

ヽ(#ﾟДﾟ)ﾉ┌┛

I DON’T EVEN KNOW HOW TO REACT TO ANYTHING IN THIS CHAPTER AND I’M LOSING MY MIND OVER IT

so the other kids are all “what the fuck” and “so Momo’s in charge??” which, YES!!! IT’S THE ONE GOOD PART ABOUT ALL THIS SO DON’T YOU DARE QUESTION IT

MOMO NOW IS NOT THE TIME TO BE CRIPPLED BY YOUR ANXIETY, YOU CAN DO THIS GIRL I BELIEVE IN YOU

hell, it’s not even just an “I believe in you” thing, because it’s not just belief, it’s fact. you motherfucking can do this, you are the most capable and brilliant student in 1-A, you just gotta have faith and let yourself shine!!

so now there are some more panels of Machia running and the villains and heroes fighting, blah blah blah. and Momo screwing up her face as she makes her decision...

YESSSSSSSSS

my baby girl is all grown up and TAKING THESE MOTHERFUCKIN REINS and MOMO I WILL LAY DOWN MY LIFE FOR YOU JUST SAY THE WORD!!

lol she’s all “Jirou use your ears and scientifically calculate how long it’ll take him to get here”, and Jirou is all “I can literally fucking see him, he’s gonna be on top of us in like two seconds” WELL OKAY THEN

thank god there are no adult pros left to fuck this up. is that weird that this is a real and honest and completely sincere thought that just ran through my head? like, at this point if any of the adults were around I’d just be afraid of them dying honestly. but with the kids I actually feel real hope that they’re somehow gonna do this. of course it helps that unlike the adults they’re pretty safe from being killed off

also! way to represent the entirety of class 1-B there Honenuki lulz. sorry, The Rest of Class 1-B

OH MY GOD

MT. LADY I WILL LAY DOWN MY LIFE FOR YOU AS WELL!! YOU HAVE MY LOVE AND FEALTY!!

I’M STANNING HER SO HARD I’M GONNA EXPLODE SOMEBODY HELP!?!

JIROU SAYS THAT MACHIA HAS SLOWED DOWN!! YOU GUYS I’M ABOUT TO GET “MT. LADY FOR PRESIDENT” TATTOOED ACROSS MY FOREHEAD

lmao at Shouji using his power of “putting some extra eyeballs on my arms” to inform everyone that Gigantomachia is Right Over There and Very Big

good job Shouji

oh my glob I have so much love for Momo right now that it can’t even fucking be contained. brb wildly flailing my hands around a little to try and release some of this excess excitement

maybe Momo can be president instead and Mt. Lady can be the vice president

NO THE CHAPTER IS ENDING I’M NOT READY

AND JUMP IS ON BREAK AGAIN NEXT WEEK TOO, FML!!

okay!!

Kaminari is so fucking brave right now I just want to crush him in a hug?! we know he’s still scared!! look at his eyes!! and he was freaking the hell out earlier too, and now the situation is much worse! but he doesn’t give a fuck because his friends need him! he is ready to be a hero, my little baby boy is all grown up and I’m so proud??

Mineta’s face in the bottom right corner is everything. I know, I know, boooo Mineta, but that’s still the best face anyone has made in the entirety of this manga

Tetsutetsu’s out here all “I humbly request to also represent class 1-B” and Momo is all “okay fine I guess we can have two of you guys”

can we all just stop for a moment to appreciate how KamiJirouMomo is alive and well. like, we had interactions between all three of them in this chapter, in all possible permutations? do you know how happy this makes me?? I am vibrating with joy??!

I really can’t stress this enough -- I have no clue at all what these little soda can things are (anesthetic, I guess??? you know, like how you sometimes buy cans of anesthetic at the supermarket?? what do you mean you don’t do that??), or what they’re gonna do with them. I have like negative clues. but DAMNED IF I GIVE ONE SINGLE FUCK. the next chapter can be them all fucking hurling them at his face for all I care. THE DETAILS OF HOW SHE KICKS HIS ASS DO NOT MATTER!! GOOD MORNING TO YAOMOMO AND YAOMOMO ONLY!! MY MOMO ACADEMIA

[bisexualdaemon]

Cake

a/n: when tipsy meets twitter, all bets are off

hello! I woke up three days ago like I’d been reborn in my love for this kid, so I wrote this filth 😅 i’ve posted a few times recently about this video but if you haven’t seen it, scroll my blog or search cake lol trust me it’s worth your time. 

(masterlist is linked in my description)

warnings: 3.9k of absolute filth

Movie night had ended hours ago, giving way to sleepy rideshares and drunken footsteps into the second bedroom. Brian was passed out and snoring in the giant armchair across from you. The Top Gun drinking game had gone wrong at around the eighth high five and completely derailed at the sixth “Iceman,” which became a salud of sorts in the room. Beer cans, mango White Claws, and the occasional tequila bottle littered the kitchen island.

“Psst, are you awake?” a toe poked your side from above. Shawn looked down at you with a cocked eyebrow from under his crooked elbow. You’d taken residence behind his legs, resting your head on his hip to watch the movie, bowing out of getting totally trashed. Your lips were still tingly enough to be dangerous.

“Yeah,” you croaked, clearing your throat and stretching, “I’m awake.”

“Are you suuure?” he slurred, tired and tipsy. The smirk was audible, “I thought I felt you drooling through my sweatpants.” His breath came out in a whoosh when you punched him in the abs with your outstretched arm.

“How’s that for awake, fucker?!” He chuckled and caught at your hand, unfisting your fingers and playing with them as he pulled out his phone. You let him. You even opened your hand fully so he could trace little patterns on your palm.

It had been like this for a few months, the flirting, the touching. A drunken night of 20-somethings playing spin the bottle had ended with multiple people clearing their throats with wide eyes as Shawn kissed you.

My God, he had kissed you. Fingers splayed against your neck, his lips gently interlocked with yours. It started out chaste, just two mouths touching, but as soon as he swiped his tongue across your bottom lip, it was game over. The people, the voices, your friends, all melted away and it was just the two of you. His top lip between yours. Gentle sucking pressure. His body heat radiating onto your skin. It was everything you never knew you wanted. Until Connor clapped Shawn on the shoulder and ripped him away, turning the two of you into human embarrassed laughing emojis.

Since then, it had been like this. His hand on your lower back at the coffee shop, lazy naps together after midday movies, play fighting and fake indignation after one too many shots at the bar. Your friends all shared sideways looks and snide smirks every time you hung out but you hadn’t crossed any lines again and you definitely hadn’t talked about it. Whatever it was didn’t need conversation. It was fun. It was nothing. He was busy. He was a globally-famous popstar. You were normal. The last thing you wanted was one of those embarrassing tabloid articles, “15 Things You Need to Know About Shawn Mendes’s New Fling.” So, in the quiet moments, you let him trace patterns on your palm and send shivers down to your toes.

“Hey, come up here, I’m scrolling Twitter,” he swept his fingers down to your wrist and gave it a tug, a little giddiness in his tone. He made space for you in front of him on the couch, giving you his bicep as a pillow. You settled back against his hard chest and let your legs weave into his. He’s so goddamn warm. It was a mistake wearing jean shorts to his condo. There was a part of you that wondered if he turned the A/C down on purpose but you didn’t want to think about why.

Scrolling Twitter, where Shawn saw the most fan activity, was one of your favorite pastimes. Seeing the reactions to this dude you knew in real life was occasionally shocking, sometimes horrifying, but always amusing. He held the phone out in front of you and thumbed through his feed.

Most of his mentions were about missing him. He’d been on a break since the end of his last tour, taking some time to himself without a schedule for every minute of every day. For a guy who had been taking photos with fans pretty much everyday for the last seven years, you understood why they might be freaking out. He’d broken the pattern. Thank God for that.

You tried to keep your eyes from crossing at the repeated “I miss Shawn @shawnmendes” tweets and the feeling of his alcohol-warmed fingers against your hip. I shouldn’t want this.

“Wait!” you snapped a finger at his phone, “what was that?”

“Oh, that?” he scrolled back, “it’s just an old video.” His voice broke a couple octaves on the last bit. The tweet was accompanied by the wide-eyed blushing emoji. Curious. You raised an eyebrow and watched. He was eating a guitar-shaped cake...with his hands. Mouth wide open, his face buried over and over in thick pieces of chocolate cake with some kind of blue frosting on it. It was fucking filthy. You rubbed your thighs together absent-mindedly.

“What do the comments say?” You poked at his phone before he could move it away.

“Oh, nothing really,” his voice was still high, which meant he knew what the comments likely said. You huffed and grabbed at the phone. “Shawn, you know I have Twitter, I’ll see it whether you like it or not!” You rammed your hips backward, pausing for a second when you felt something you weren’t expecting, but not for too long. He sucked in a breath, coughing, and dropped his phone—right into your waiting hands.

“Hahaha!” You jumped up and ran to the other side of the big white couch, kicking your legs in victory, “I win!” He tripped over his own oversized limbs before he got to you, falling to the floor within reach of your feet. He reached out and pulled your legs toward him, framing his face between your thighs. Your giggles stopped short and your face flamed.

“Can you assholes get a room?!” Brian was awake and fussing at the thin fleece blanket he’d scrounged off the back of the couch. He rolled over mumbling something that sounded like just fucking fuck already but you were too busy thinking about Shawn’s head still between your legs to be bothered by it.

Shawn slowly lifted his finger to his lips in the universal sign to be quiet and untangled himself to stand. He reached out a hand and you didn’t hesitate to grab it, leading you to his bedroom down the hall. You held his phone in a death grip, unwilling to let go in case he caught you off guard.

The room was dark, save for his phone, the rectangle reflecting a solid white off the wall of glass facing the city. The CN Tower lights flickered in the late night sky, seemingly suspended in midair. His unmade  bed was the biggest and brightest thing in the room. A white comforter hung half on the floor at an odd angle off the corner of the mattress, his white sheets completely exposed. The pillows were all scrunched up at the headboard, like he’d been kicking and pushing all night long. Like he hadn’t slept soundly in weeks.

“Okay, so what you’re about to read…” he shut the door behind him, scrubbing at the back of his neck, “it’s gonna be weird, but like it’s fine I’m used to it. They’re...a little invasive.” Weird? Invasive? Curiouser and curiouser…

You walked over to his bed, picking up the comforter and tossing it haphazardly back onto the bed, and sat on the edge staring at the video and letting it play a few more times. Then you swiped down.

@canadianmendussy: ALEXA PLAY BIRTHDAY CAKE BY RIHANNAAAAA

@perfectlyru1n: oh my goD does he really go down like thAT?!

“Oh...my God,” you covered your mouth to keep from laughing, “you’ve seen this before?”

He bounced on the mattress facedown, mumbling something into the sheets.

“What was that?” you asked, with Southern sweet tea levels of sugar. You ruffled his hair, brushing through his curls. He turned his head, his face flushed with more than just alcohol.

“I said yes, I’ve seen it before…” he opened one eye and looked up at you, “I usually just ignore them.”

There were over 400 replies on this tweet, some people chiding the horny stans for posting something Shawn can see, others just piling on.

@illuminateruin: is that cake gluten-free?

@kidinlover: @illuminateruin idk but I know pussy is

@particularbenito: CAN HE EAT PUSSY LIKE THAT?!?!?!

“Can he eat pussy like that...” you read out loud under your breath, your mind conjuring up that image of his face between your thighs. Shawn’s head shot up, eyes wide.

“What???” His face was practically magenta at this point, “is that a serious question??”

“What? Uhh, no. Not serious. A reply actually,” you rushed, giving him a sideways look. I mean...maybe it was a serious question? The curiosity was going to kill you. Oh, no. No, no, no. Your lips tingled.

“Well, I mean….can you?” You could hear the glint in your eye.

Fuck it all.

“Can I….w-what?” he stuttered, the air crackling between the two of you. He looked like a cornered animal, like the wrong move would get him killed.

“Can you,” you pushed a loose curl out of his face and nodded toward his phone, “eat pussy like that?”

Oh, God, did I just…?

“I’ve never gotten any complaints,” your head popped up at his self-satisfied tone. Gone was the red-faced shy boy talking about embarrassing fans. The Shawn in front of you was...confident. Hungry. His fingers grazed your ankles resting beside him. It didn’t escape your notice. You shivered.

It wasn’t cold.

“M-maybe they were just too afraid to tell a big, famous rockstar that he sucked,” you were the one stuttering now, face heating by the second.

“Oh, sucking was definitely part of it,” his fingers traced the indent in your calf. You refused to pull away even though you should, even though part of you—a small, shrinking part—knew that if this went where it was definitely going, things were going to change. You snuck a finger under his chin to pull his gaze to yours.

“Is that a promise?”

“I don’t know,” he flashed a toothy smile, gravity and sheer force of will pulling his body toward yours, “is that an invitation?”

I’m probably gonna regret this in the morning.

Your lips crashed into his, giving him your answer. His mouth was hot, his breathing heavy. Tongues and teeth and lips wrestled together, refusing to part while he made his way above you, crawling on hands and knees between your legs as you settled against the pillows. He licked up into your mouth just before nibbling on your bottom lip, forcing a moan from deep inside you. This was primal, the need you felt with him. Like once you came together, nothing could break you apart.

His hands moved up your body, scratching gently at your exposed legs and slipping beneath your hoodie. He broke away from your lips to shuck off your top and expose all your delicate skin. His fingers slipped beneath your lace bralette and he played with the tiny clasp between your breasts.

“Is this okay?” he asked, a little out of breath, his thin t-shirt pressing against your skin.

You nodded so quickly you thought your neck might snap. He popped the clasp and spread his calloused hands across your chest. The friction was glorious. Your body chased his fingers involuntarily, bowing up off the high thread count sheets.

“Be still, baby,” he whispered, dipping his head and placing an open mouthed kiss just above your belly button. Your eyes rolled back at the pet name, another moan escaping your lips. Warmth rushed between your legs.

“Shawn,” you gasped, trying to control your breathing so he didn’t know just how fucked you were, “when I gave you an invitation, I didn’t expect you to be late to the party.” You rocked your hips up into his chest pointedly.

“Well, I can't just jump to the entrée, can I?” He fiddled with the button on your denim shorts, loosening it with a little pop. Teasing, he licked at a freckle just above your hip before sucking at it with enough force to leave a mark.

“Fuck!” Your hands shot down to his mop of curls, fingers buried in the thick locks. He pulled and nibbled at that spot over and over, all while grazing his fingers just beneath the waistband of your simple cotton cheeky panties.

When he pulled away, an angry red violet half-moon colored the skin. He took one last lick, smiling at your gasp in response.

“I love that sound,” he sat back on his heels between your legs, looking down at your heaving chest.

“I’ll make it again if you take that shirt off,” you reached for him with grabby hands, trying to Harry Potter that shit. He laughed and did the boy thing, grabbing his shirt at the back of his neck before tugging it forward off his body.

The gasp came again. Not even on purpose or because you’s promised him, but because he was so stupid gorgeous in the low light of the city you couldn’t help yourself. You’d seen him in hot tubs and at sweaty summer parties and in those fucking Calvin Klein pictures, but none of that compared to having him shirtless between your thighs just a few inches from your outstretched fingers.

His chest was flushed, some combination of adrenaline and alcohol. Little freckles dotted his lightly tanned skin all the way up his torso to the dusting of chest hair that colored his chest. His perfect pink nipples were hard against the cool air of the room, begging for you to touch or kiss or bite. Or all of the above. You reached out to trace his appendix scar where it peaked out of his low-slung sweatpants. His body danced away from you as he caught at your hand.

“Don’t,” he growled, weaving his fingers between yours and pressing his lips onto the back of your palm like a fucking Victorian gentleman. Like he wasn’t staring down at your hardening nipples thinking about how good they would feel pinched warm between his fingers. He tipped forward, bracing himself against the mattress, his mouth just a few centimeters from your skin. Dragging flesh against flesh, he left kisses at random in the valley between your breasts. Moving farther and farther down your body, he paused, sitting up on his heels.

“Are you sure?” He was breathing heavy, looking straight through you, both hands hovering around the edges of your shorts. You were nodding before he even finished his question.

He curled his fingers around all the fabric in his way, denim and cotton both, and dragged the offending pieces of clothing down your legs, lifting them off and tossing them against the wall across the room. You breathed steady, looking at him looking at you. His mouth hung open in speechless wonder.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” he whispered, settling back between your thighs, a mirror of his earlier pose on the couch. Another wave of heat rushed straight to your clit, silently screaming for him.

“I know,” you brushed through his curls, giving him a suggestive grin when he looked up at you, “I taste good too.”

That was all the permission he needed. A second later, he buried his face between your legs, nudging your knees over his shoulders. His tongue swirled in circles around your clit finishing in random flicks. He moaned into you, his lips closing around your swollen folds with gently sucking pressure.

“Shit, Shawn!” you shouted, praying to the gods that everyone still in the condo was too drunk and passed out to hear you. The white sheets bunched in your fists, arms spread wide. Your thighs clamped down against his ears.

He continued his licks and flicks, snaking his hands up your legs and gently prying your legs apart. You clenched hard as he pinned your thighs to the mattress, holding you open with his forearms. Filthy sounds echoed off the walls, wet sucking, moaning from both of you. He dipped his chin and circled your entrance with his tongue, lapping at you.

“Christ!” your hands shot into his damp curls. He was working hard down there, flexing and moaning and fighting your spasms. You looked down and saw his hips impatiently rutting into the mattress. It only made you wetter, gushing onto his waiting tongue. He drank everything you gave him.

“He’s not here,” he said in a low and gravelly voice, a little breathless. He pulled back, the bottom half of his face shining in the dark. His fingers toyed with your sensitive, wet lips, watching as you twitched and trembled, so close to the edge. A firm circle around your clit had your back bowing, contorting backward off the bed. A single tear rolled down your temple.

“I’m so close,” you panted, trapping his outstretched hand against your skin.

“Shawn, I need you.”

“Need me?” His fingers paused, “need me where?”

“Oh, God, don’t stop,” you choked out, a sob threatening. Your back arched up off the sheets again to find friction. “I need...I need you inside me.”

At some point between your words and the needy moan that followed, he’d removed his sweatpants and a black pair of Calvins. You heard him rustling his hand inside the bedside table followed by the metallic sound of foil and the sharp scent of latex. Thank fuck he’s prepared.

When he dropped down onto his forearms, hovering an inch from where you needed him, you were dripping onto the sheets, grinding down into the mattress waiting desperately for him. He ran his nose over your collarbone, peppering kisses along your neck. It was slow and deliberate. A fucking tease.

“Shawn,” you pulled his face up to yours, all squished between your hands, “if you don’t fuck me right now, I swear I will…”

He pressed inside to the hilt in one swift motion, cutting off your threat.

“What are you swearing to do, princess?” he asked, a smirk and a fire in his eyes. The moan that escaped you in response was embarrassingly loud. He stilled and closed his eyes, allowing you to adjust. You took even breaths, relaxing into his hips, holding on to his shoulders for dear life. His cock was perfect. He was perfect.

I am so fucked.

He moved, slowly at first, stroking all the right places. When his hips separated from yours, pulling almost all the way out, he rutted back inside. It was deep, long thrusts touching some place inside you weren’t sure you knew was there. Your head thrashed against the pillows. Your grip on his shoulders turned sharp, clawing long red-raw marks into his pale skin.

“I’m not gonna last long,” he hissed into your ear, “fuck, you’re so tight.” His abs scraped against your body like a washboard, the tension clear in his muscles. He was wound up, ready to shatter. He crashed into you, repeatedly slapping skin against skin. His fingers found your clit, rubbing tight, slow circles in contrast with the punishing rhythm of his hips. He lifted one of your legs over his hip to change the angle, to make you even tighter around him. A bead of salty-sweet sweat dropped from his chest into your mouth.

“Right...there,” you groaned, your eyes rolling back, “I’m gonna come!”

“That’s right, honey,” he grunted, flattening his fingers across your clit with intense pressure, “come for me.”

The room went white. The sound of your hips colliding was replaced with a high-pitched ring. Your world seemed to implode, your muscles moving independently. He wrapped his arms around your middle and held you as he fucked you through the waves, his weight the only thing keeping you from being swept away in the current.

“Stay here with me,” he cooed, sweet but taut in his throat. Your heart slammed against your ribs in rhythm with his hips. He grunted once, twice, three times with his final thrusts and came undone, pumping into the condom. Biting down on your shoulder to stifle his sounds, he sucked hard enough to leave an angry mark. You contracted around him, both inside and out, curling around his thighs and back and neck, letting the full weight of his completely spent body bring you back to full consciousness.

“Hey,” you fingered his frizzed and fucked curls, “Shawn?”

“Hmm?” he nuzzled into your hands and squeezed you a little tighter.

“You’re crushing me,” you exhaled, strained.

“Oh, fuck! I’m sorry!”

He shifted to his side, accidentally pulling out too quickly, making both of you wince.

“Shit, shit, I’m so sorry,” he was so cute when he was scrambling. He got up and threw out the used condom, quickly returning from the adjoining bathroom with a damp cloth.

“Come here,” he held his arms out, making a perfect you-sized place in front of him. You slid into it easily and let him press the cloth between your legs, wincing again.

“Did I hurt you?” There was so much concern in his voice.

“No, no, I just…” you held onto his arm, glad to be facing away, “I haven’t been fucked like that in awhile.”

“Glad to be of service.” You didn’t have to be looking at him to see his smug smile. Reaching back, you slapped his thigh in retaliation. He caught your hand and kissed it like a Victorian gentleman again, like it made up for his cockiness. You tried to convince yourself that it didn’t, flushing even harder than your just-fucked body should have allowed. He wrapped his arm around your front and intertwined your legs, snuggling his face into the nape of your neck.

“So, uhhh, are we gonna do this again?” he asked, barely concealing the hope in his voice.

“Shhh,” you said, yawning for effect, “we’ll talk about it in the morning. Just sleep.”

He exhaled against your back, placing one last kiss on the mark you were sure he’d left in the midst of his orgasm. You stared out into the Toronto skyline as his breathing evened, his quiet snores barely audible against the screaming voices in your head. As the light crept into the room, as morning dawned on your sleepless night, you repeated his question over and over again.

Are we gonna do this again?

There was an easy answer: yes. Yes, yes, yes, my God, yes you were going to do this again. But there was another, harder question to answer beneath it. If we do this again, will we ever be able to stop?

***

taglist: @justanotherfangurl272  @siennarossi @trustfundshawn @alone-in-madness @harryandmolly @thatindiannerdygirl @fromthicctosticcc @softmendesss @sinplisticshawn @nedthegay @september-lace @itrocksmysocks @disaster-rose @mendesoft @luvluvxx @i-play-video-games @ihearthemcallingforyou @gentleshawn @kitykatnumber @enchantingbrowneyedgirl @ijustreallylikeshawnokay @shhhawnmendes @shawnsblue @imaginashawnns @mendesficsxbombay @shawn-youth @kerwritesthings @starlightsivann @lavenderhoneymndes @begginyouformendes @fallinallincurls @shawn-youth​ @linanilssonfurberg​ @lostinshawnsmemory​ @bucky-ish​

(as always let me know if you want on/off the tag list...I realize I don’t post regularly and like half of these people could be out of the fandom lol)

[high-functioning-lokipath]

SH - Sherlock & Greg Friendship - Prompt: How Greg and Sherlock First Met - Words: 1,637

A/N: Alrighty! So this written from Greg's POV. It's my personal headcannon of what Sherlock and Greg's first meeting might have been like. Please don't hate me if I got something wrong or if it's different than your ideas. Just my little thought. At the end of the story there is a little explanation of some of the references I made. See if you catch them 😜

I WILL ADD THIS: THERE IS DISCUSSION OF SUICIDAL THOUGHTS AND INTENT. HOWEVER, NO HARM COMES UPON ANYONE. PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU FEEL YOU WILL BE TRIGGERED.

"Goodnight, Inspector," Donavon said, as we walked out to our respective cars.

"Good night, Sally," I replied. "Have any plans tonight?"

"Oh, nothing much," She replied with a smile. Anderson walked out and headed to his car too though I noticed he winked and waved at Sally as he passed by. "See you tomorrow," She told me. I nodded and got in my car. As I started my engine I saw Philip run back to her and hand her what seemed to be a key. I shook my head and pulled away. I didn't want to pry into the personal lives of anyone on my team but I made a mental note to keep an eye on those two.

"Oh, I'm exhausted," I groaned to myself as I drove home. I'd just received my promotion to Detective Inspector and the first case we'd gotten has proven to be more difficult than we expected. Deciding that my already distant wife wouldn't care if I was home another 15 minutes later, I pulled over for a smoke. The Waterloo Bridge was just up ahead so I got out for a little walk. As I walked up into the bridge I took out my cigarette and was just about to light it when someone spoke up.

"Those things will kill you."

"Who said that?" I called out, immediately pocketing my lighter and lowering my cigarette. Instinctively, my hand hovered near my holster.

"Nobody of import to you, Detective Inspector. I was just making an observation." I was speechless for a moment, surprised that whoever was talking knew who I was. Or at least what I was. My blood ran cold, though, when I finally spotted the illusive speaker.

"What are you doing over there?" I asked, attempting to keep my voice steady. I couldn't yet see his features but I could tell he was young, tall, skinny and had a head full of curly hair. The first thing I noticed, though, was that he was standing on the wrong side of the walkway railing.

"My plan was to jump," He stated plainly. I was quiet for a moment, surprised that he'd so easily admit such a thing. "Surprised I said it?" He asked, looking at me finally. I nodded and he smiled sadly. "No reason to lie to you. You're a smart man. You wouldn't have reached DI otherwise."

"How do you know that anyways?" I asked, walking up next to him, however remaining on the correct side of the railing.

"It was quite obvious. Your haircut implies your employment is of the upper blue-collar class which narrows the field considerably. Considering your age you couldn't be higher than Detective Inspector but no lower than Detective Sergeant. If you were still at Constable you would have quit. Also it was obvious from the fact you went for your gun when I spoke up. You're considerably tired, even for this late hour, meaning you probably were one of the last out. Though tired your gait shows a measure of excitement, pride, if you will. It couldn't be caused by anything at home. You stopped for a smoke on your way home and didn't light up in your car meaning your wife dislikes the habit. One of the reasons she's going to be leaving you, by the way. You certainly aren't expecting children any time soon so that would leave your job. You're excited about something that happened recently at your job. You're obviously exhausted from the case you've been trying to crack so that leaves one option. Promotion. I'd say at the beginning of this past week."

"Wow," I gasped. "You're quite good at that!"

"You're not angry?" He asked slowly, staring at me in surprise.

"Not at all."

"I just told you your wife was leaving you."

"I knew that," I chuckled. "She's been hinting at the matter for weeks. I've been trying to fix things but, with my new promotion, she seems more determined than ever."

"I see," He said, looking off down the river again. "Most people get quite upset with me."

"Well, perhaps depending on the situation it might not be welcome but I don't see what's so bad about it. You know," I said with a grin. "With your ability you'd make a fine DI yourself."

"Tried. Couldn't pass the psych eval," He whispered. "What you call an ability, they call a disability." I stayed quiet, waiting to see if he'd go on. "Doctors diagnosed me with Asperger's and ADHD.”

“Well that certainly shouldn't stop you! Have you considered becoming a private investigator?” He wrinkled his nose at the suggestion.

“I’m not a fan of that title.”

“Private detective?” I tried. He shook his head again. “I’ll think of something,” I said determandly.

“Why would you care?”

“You seem like a nice kid, I-”

“I’m not a kid, I'm 25,” He interrupted, causing me to chuckle lightly.

"Alright," I said, holding up my hands. "Young man. You seem like a nice young man. I want to help you out."

"Why?" He asked again, sounding awfully much like a 2 year old. "I grew up in the countryside with my parents and my older brother. I never had any friends in school. I’ve always been like this. It didn’t get any better when I went to uni. Everyone just made fun of me. Once I graduated, I moved in with my brother in the city. I worked with him for a few years but,” He paused. "Let's just say that didn't go well. I tried to live on my own but I couldn't pay rent because I wasn't able to hold down a job. No one could put up with me. My brother would send me money here and there but he stopped after a while when he found out I had gotten involved in other things."

"Drugs?" The young man nodded slowly. His eyes were closed and he seemed to be somewhere else in his mind. "You know I could have you arrested for that," I commented.

"You wouldn't," He replied. He turned his head and looked straight at me, his eyes more intense than anyone else's I'd ever met. "Besides," He continued, looking away again. "I've stopped."

"For now," I said. "You'll stop until you don't have anything to do and then your mind will get too loud, too busy, too noisy and you'll try to quiet it again."

"How-"

"My cousin," I stated simply. "And also myself in a way. These 'help' me with my stress." I held up my package of cigarettes.

"May I see them?" He asked, holding out his hand. I nodded and handed them over. He looked them over carefully and then threw them into the river.

"Oi! Why'd you do that?" With a smirk and quickly hopped back over the railing onto the walkway.

"Try this," He said, rolling up his sleeve and showing me a patch on his arm. "When I have an especially bad day I'll go up to 3 patches. But one would probably be enough for you."

"Alright, I'll give it a try." He smiled abit haughtily. "But," I added, causing his expression to falter. "Only if you promise to give the private, personal, whatever you want to call it, detective work a try."

"After consulting with you, Inspector, I suppose I could attempt to give this idiotic world another try."

"That's it!" I exclaimed. "Consulting Detective! That's what you can call yourself!" He furrowed his brow in thought before smiling slightly.

"I think that just might work. But who would I consult for?"

"Well, you could set up a website so people can send in cases. Perhaps post something about how you do your deductions. It might take awhile for you to get enough customers so perhaps I can arrange for you to take a look at some old cold cases. What do you think of that?"

"I-" He paused, looking away in embarrassment. "Thank you, Inspector."

"You're welcome. And call me Greg, hm? Or Lestrade if Greg is too hard to remember," I joked.

"Alright," He paused. "Graham," He added with a smirk. I laughed loudly and clapped his shoulder.

"Well, I have the feeling this is going to be the start of something very special for you. Who knows where this will take you or who you'll meet!" He nodded, corners of his mouth turning up in a small smile. "Why don't you stop by my office tomorrow afternoon? I can get you some cold cases and who knows, maybe you'll even crack the case I'm working on now!"

"Thank you," He replied, suddenly sounding very nervous.

"Look, I know people are going to judge you for who you are and what you do. I wish I could change that. But keep your chin up. One day you'll look back and be surprised where it got you. Be confident in yourself. That'll help a lot."

"Like this?" He asked, standing straighter and giving off a well practiced authoritative glare.

"Something like that," I replied. "Here. Try this." I reached for his coat collar and turned it up. "Perfect. Now you look like a real professional." He nodded sharply, keeping up his vaguely disinterested air.

"I've done this before," He admitted. I smiled and nodded.

"Me too. I think you'll be just fine." I smiled at him, happy I was able to save a life tonight instead of investigate a death. "Do you need a ride home?" I offered.

"That would be helpful," He admitted.

"Alright, then, Mr.," I paused, chuckling lightly. "You know, I never got your name."

"Sherlock Holmes," He replied. I smiled and shook his hand.

"Nice to meet you, Sherlock." I paused for a moment, thinking. "Sherlock Holmes, Consulting Detective. Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

I UNDERSTOOD THAT REFERENCE: A GUIDE

The key - Anderson is giving Sally a key to his apartment since they are having an affair. Not exactly a direct reference. Just a thought lol

Those things will kill you - I thought making that the first thing Sherlock said to Greg would have explained all the more so why Greg was so happy to see him again when he came back.

Sherlock's diagnosis - In one of the episodes (can't remember which, too lazy to look it up lol) John says Sherlock has Asperger's. One of my best friends has Asperger's and I've had other friends with ADHD. As a non-professional, I would say Sherlock definitely acts in harmony with those two disorders.

The patches - Greg was showing Sherlock his own patches in the first episode. Thought that was cute.

Graham - I personally think Sherlock has always known Greg's name and it's just an inside joke lol

So, if you noticed anything else, let me know! Please leave a comment (or two lol) if you liked it!!!!

Sherlock BBC Taglist

@lucywrites02

@delightfulheartdream

@bartv21

@another-crazy-fangirl

@ladylulu143

[nnightskiess]

santana lopez imagine

i kinda combined two requests together bc i thought they’d fit well!

a/n: this is for u elena. sorry you had to wait so long♡ 

also, i wanted to try and show that soft and nervous side of santana that came out at the beginning with dani, so i’m sorry if it feels out of character sometimes. (i did my best lol)

“So, what’s been going on with you? I haven’t seen you in a few months.” 

Y/N was having lunch with her friends from back home. It had been hard to keep in touch with them now that she had been living in New York for over a year. Not that she’d complain, since she gained multiple new friends and... well, a relationship. And not with just anyone— with Santana Lopez, whose singing career skyrocketed after a duet on Mercedes Jones’ album. She got a record deal a month after and her first EP was a hit. She went on tour with her first album but had vanished off the face of the earth after her very public breakup with her high school girlfriend and her backup dancer, Brittany S. Pierce. She stopped posting on social media, she wasn’t spotted by paparazzi anymore and her plans for a second album were now off the table. It was clear to everyone that the breakup had broken the girl. That was until she walked into the diner she used to work at and locked eyes with Y/N. Santana didn’t want to fall in love with anyone else and wasn’t completely over Brittany, so it wasn’t love at first sight. 

But the moment Y/N stole the show while taking the lead singing Shout by The Trammps, she knew there was something special about the girl. Was it her voice that Santana’s mind went to when she lied in bed that night? Or the twinkle in her eyes when she sang? Or perhaps the way her smile widened a tad bit more when she looked at Santana?  

Santana found herself go back to the diner on days where she’d rather sit in bed and cry. She’d forget her sorrow in moments they locked eyes but could cry again when Y/N wasn’t working that day. 

Santana had taken her notebook with her, the one she would never let anyone read— well, except for Brittany. It’s where most of her songs were born and where her most delicate and vulnerable thoughts were being kept. She’d never been too keen on sharing emotions with everyone, so writing them down was a great alternative. 

“I normally wouldn’t ask, but I’ve seen you here with that notebook now at least a couple of times... Are you writing a book?”

Santana’s head shot up. Y/N was standing next to her table, wiping her hands onto her apron.

Santana cracked a soft smile, “No—actually, I’m writing songs... a song... well, trying to, at least. My label wants-” She swallowed her sentence, she didn’t want this girl to know about any of that drama. 

Y/N seemed to ignore it.

“You sing?”

Santana nodded but furrowed her eyebrows when Y/N sat down in front of her. “Go on, then. Let me hear what you’ve got so far.”

“Oh, no no no-”

Y/N pursed her lips, “Did it happen not too long ago?” she asked after a couple of seconds of Santana trying to get out of this situation. 

She rose her eyebrows, unsure of how Y/N read the situation so well, 

“It’s actually been a while but it still hurts.” She caught herself confessing.

“Then I won’t pry. I’ll leave you to it.” Y/N slid out of the booth, “Oh, and— I happen to know that our strawberry milkshake is the best medicine to heartbreak. It’s on me.”

“Thanks...” Santana watched her leave into the kitchen and immediately rubbed her temples when the girl left her sight. No, no, no, no. Not again. But wasn’t this exactly the reason she had started visiting the diner more and more? To spike up a conversation with the girl? She cursed at herself, stood up, grabbed her stuff and left the diner. She wasn’t ready yet. She could take the short glances and attention, but that was the line. The only woman she had truly trusted was no longer with her, she couldn’t open up to anyone again. 

Through the window of the diner she could see the girl with a disappointed expression on her face the moment she realised Santana had left. But Santana didn’t turn around and kept walking. 

✫彡

“Okay, stop crushing my spirit. I wanted a nice dinner with you.”

“Then you should’ve just asked Berry over for dinner. I’m sure she’d tell you all about her awfully cheerful day.”

Kurt put his hand on Santana’s so that she would stop playing with her food. She glared at him. 

“You can glare at me all you want, but we’re not going to brush things under the carpet. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Santana dropped her cutlery and sat back, crossing her arms. “We’re not talking about Britt again. You want to help me move on? Then fucking stop bringing it up.”

“No, not that. There’s something else. I can sense it.”

“Since when do you have a Mexican third eye as well?”

“Off topic.” Kurt waved her off. “You know you can tell me anything, right?” 

Santana lowered her head and slightly looked up at him, trying to decide wether to share or not. 

“Is the label pressuring you?” He tried.

Santana sighed, “Well, yes, that too.”

Kurt waited patiently for Santana to feel comfortable enough to share the rest.

“They were okay with delaying the start of my second album but now they’re starting to breathe down my neck. They say it’s been long enough and that i’m just deadweight they have to pay but get nothing in return for, which is fair— but still. I’m only human, I’m not some super song-writing machine like Mercedes.”

“I thought you loved writing songs?”

“Yeah... when I had Brittany.” Santana looked at her lap and started playing with her hands. “Now that I don’t have her... I can’t seem to even write one sentence... and when I do, they’re all just too gloomy or depressing.”

Kurt nodded in understanding. “Well, Adele wrote one whole album about her breakup which sold like Wonka bars. Who says you can’t?”

Santana shook her head, “You don’t get it. I don’t want to sing about her anymore, even though it might help me move on. But the thing is...” she bit her lip, “I can’t. I don’t want to.”

“Then write about how you can’t write. Write about how you want to feel instead of feeling like your heart has been ripped out. Write about conquering this heartbreak, like a powerful song?”

“How?” Santana looked up, tears in her eyes. 

“By remembering who you were before.”

“But I’ve been with Britt for as long as I-”

Kurt shook his head and waved his hands around, “No, think of the Santana in high school. You were fierce, strong, not afraid to speak your mind but you also had a big heart. You didn’t want to show it often but we all knew yours was just as big, if not bigger, as ours. Remember how it felt every time you got a solo and when you stood on the stage? Write about that feeling. Write about feeling on top of the world again.”

“Thanks, Hummel.”

He smiled at her and squeezed her hands, “Anytime. Now eat before it gets cold. I didn’t spend two hours in the kitchen for nothing.”

✫彡

Santana walked out off the apartment she had rented after her breakup with Brittany and crossed the street. She needed some fresh air and a distraction from her song-writing. Spring was around the corner but it was still very chilly in the big city, so she held the collar of her coat while walking through the tiny park close to her block. She started humming the melody she’d just come up with. Something just didn’t feel right yet.

Santana saw people look at her as they passed by but hoped that the big sunglasses on her face would keep them guessing of her identity. No matter how much she loved the attention from her fans, she sometimes just wanted to be normal and not have to pose for selfies every damn day.

“Hey, you!”

She sighed and stopped to turn around since she’d look like a real ass if she didn’t. She half expected to be met with a group of teenage girls with their phones ready to snap a picture, but instead she locked eyes with the girl from the diner.

“I think you dropped this.”

The girl apparently didn’t seem to recognise her thanks to the shades, and she handed her a crumbled piece of paper.

“Oh— um, thanks.” Santana gave her a tight-lipped smile. She stared back at the girl.

“I know you.”   (weren’t you in a movie with my sister? lmao sorry i had to, let’s continue)

Oh, no. The girl couldn’t find out that Santana was the woman who had basically stood her up after their talk in that diner.

She let out a breathy chuckle, “Do you?” 

“Yeah, you look familiar.” Something in Santana hoped that the girl recognised her for being a celebrity, not for what happened a week ago.

Y/N shamelessly looked her up and down before snapping her finger.

“Milkshake girl. I recognise your voice.”

Santana smiled awkwardly. Great, now she definitely looked like a douche. 

“Sorry about that, by the way... I-”

“No need to apologise. I probably came on too strong, sorry for giving you the wrong impression. I only wanted to cheer you up.” She smiled back, “It’s a shame though, it was a great milkshake.”

Santana’s expression softened, relieved at how well the girl had taken it. 

“I don’t think I’ve seen you again after that... You used to come in every few days. Is it my fault? Gunther would kill me if I lost him a customer. Wait— Don’t answer that. It’s none of my business.”

Santana smiled and removed her glasses.

“If he ever gets mad at you, just give him a box of Yeast-I-Stat. That’ll pretty much shut him up.”

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, “How do you-”

“I worked there for a long time when I first moved to New York.” Santana shrugged, “I was pretty desperate for any kind of job when I landed that commercial.”

“Oh my God, you’re the Yeast-I-Stat girl!? I knew I recognised you from somewhere else, too.” The girl gasped, “I like yeast in my bagel... but not in my muffin.” She mocked and laughed afterwards.

“Oh, shut up, will you?” Santana shook her head in amusement, kinda glad those days were over.

“Is that really what you know me of?”

“Yeah, what else should I know you of? Any other embarrassing first-job commercials I should know about?”

Santana was about to mention her career but stopped herself. Clean slate. She wasn’t a celebrity in her private life. Besides, she didn’t want the girl to think she was bragging.

“No... thank God.”

They looked at each other for a few seconds before smiling.

“I’m Y/N.” She held out her hand for Santana to shake.

“Santana.”

Y/N smiled at her with the most adorable smile ever. Santana didn’t miss the twinkle in her eyes. 

She blinked a few times before shaking her head, “So, yeah. I should get going.”

“Oh, yeah, of course. I have to go, too...”

“Bye...” 

Santana waved softly as the girl turned around and walked off.

Clean slate, Santana.

✫彡

“They’re doing a Gloria Estefan night at the Spotlight Diner. We should totally go.”

“Not that I’m complaining, but that sounds out of character for the diner.” Rachel shrugged.

“I guess they finally had a cultural awakening.” Santana was mindlessly scrolling through her phone. “They’re probably too white to sing her Spanish songs though, bet they’re gonna butcher it.”

“So that’s a no for reserving us a table?” Kurt turned to the two.

“No, I wanna go.” 

“Count me in, too. I love ‘Conga’.”

Santana rolled her eyes, “That’s the only song you know of her, isn’t it?”

“No...”

“Keep next Friday night free.” 

✫彡

They walked in as ‘A Bailar’ by Gloria silently played over the speakers in the background. Santana scanned the room, shamelessly trying to find the girl she was looking for. Unfortunately, she was nowhere in sight. 

Kurt waved his hand and one of the waitresses came to take their order. They talked a bit as they waited for their food. Every time Santana saw a girl in the red outfit walk by from the corner of her eyes, her head would shot up, only to be disappointed again when it wasn’t Y/N.

“Tana, stop ogling everyone. Your food’s getting jealous.” Rachel pointed at the untouched plate in front of her. 

A few minutes later, their heads shot to the door as Y/N bursted through it. She quickly fixed her hair that was messed up by the wind and quickly tied a white apron around her waist. Gunther came from behind the counter. Though they couldn’t hear what he said, it was clear she was in trouble. He kept pointing his finger at her chest before snatching the apron off her waist and sending her into the back. 

“Oh, I bet she’s on cleaning duty now. Remember when I got an hour late because I was held up at an audition?”

Kurt and Rachel started talking but Santana wasn’t paying attention. 

Santana furrowed her eyebrows until she got a call from her PR manager. She declined and a few seconds after, she got a text.

Santana’s stomach sank and she froze. New relationship? Brittany had already moved on? Yet she still spent every day moping around, overthinking everything that had happened, unable to write any song that wasn’t about the blonde. Brittany was already giving someone else all her love? How was that fair? How was she even able to do that?

“Santana?”

“You alright?”

She snapped out of it and gave them a tightlipped, fake smile. There was no time for them to question her any further as Rachel let out a startled yelp when suddenly the first notes of ‘Conga’ blasted through the diner. The lights flickered and changed colour on the beat. Santana rolled her eyes, of course they’d start with that song. 

Girls started dancing through the pathways and tried to hype everyone up. Kurt was shimmying along and Rachel was nodding her head to the beat, a big smile on her face. Santana tried to blend but she was busy biting her lip to stop herself from crying. 

The percussion band on the little stage started playing ‘Cuba Libre’. A girl danced her way onto the stage and sang the Spanish verse. She was clearly hispanic since her pronunciation was great. Two girls started dancing on the counter and another helped someone up—Y/N. 

‘Cuba Libra’ faded into the chorus of ‘Turn the Beat Around’ to which Y/N took the lead. Santana’s frown softened at seeing the girl perform, but she still couldn’t shake the thought of Brittany off.

Santana sank back into her seat and crossed her arms, wanting to go home and crawl into her bed and not leave it for the next couple of days. She hadn’t even realised that another song was already playing and that the girls were pulling people out of their seats to ‘Get on Your Feet’. 

Y/N spotted Santana in the crowd and walked over to her, but Santana wouldn’t crack a smile. Y/N kept singing to her until she’d turn around. Kurt softly shook his head at the girl, telling her that she should leave Santana alone. But what he didn’t know, was that the girls already knew each other. Y/N noticed how Santana pursed her lips, not giving in to her. 

Y/N grabbed her shoulders, bent down to her height and slowly made the girl turn.

She sang to her,

“Deep in your heart is the answer. Find it, I know it will pull you through. Get on your feet!”

She leaned over to grab Rachel and Kurt’s hands, helping them stand up. Almost everyone in the diner was up and dancing right now, except for Santana. Kurt gave her a look, telling her to suck it up. 

“I think it's true that we've all been through some nasty weather,” Y/N turned to dance with one of her co-workers. She felt Santana look at her and walked back up to her. She danced around her. “Let's understand that we're here to handle things together.”

Y/N stuck out her tongue at Santana’s stoic expression, trying to break her. And it worked, Santana let out a soft chuckle and shook her head in amusement. Both Y/N and Kurt held out a hand for her to take. She rolled her eyes and stood up. The four of them danced together for a few seconds until Y/N walked back to the other girls. They ended the song on the stage, where everyone left but Y/N. They went back to eating their dinner as the next few songs would be slow and easy on the ears. 

Y/N sat down on the stool next to the guitarist. He started playing the soft notes of ‘Wrapped’. Kurt and Rachel went back to eating their food but Santana was too mesmerised by the girl to engage in their conversation. The soft light that was shining down on her made her look like she was the only one in the room. And judging by the look on the girl’s face while she sang, she felt like she was the only one in the room too. She hadn’t once opened her eyes the first minute, she was just so indulged in the song. 

A small smile made its way onto Santana’s face at the sight. She knew how good it felt to be so into a song that you could just forget the world around you— to find your corner of the sky. It was very obvious that Y/N felt at ease, even while performing in front of people. It was rare to see people be so clearly in love with what they were doing. 

Santana grabbed her phone, opened Instagram and decided to film this moment. Y/N’s face wasn’t recognisable from the distance where Santana was filming from so she decided to just put it into her story. Everyone deserved to see this. 

Was this positive and uplifting enough?

✫彡

‘What we know of Santana and Brittany’s breakup...’

‘Read what Brittany S Pierce has to say about her ex’

‘Santana’s social media silence over?’

‘Santana Lopez still in love or in love again?’

And many more headlines had been posted after that Friday. Santana got a lot of followers after her first post in over a year. She had also gotten a lot of hate, which was something she hadn’t missed. Brittany hadn’t said one bad word about their relationship or about Santana but for some reason she still received backlash. Brittany spoke so highly about Santana and all the questions were answered with respect. But Santana wasn’t surprised about that at all, that was just how Brittany was.

There were still people—mainly Brittany fans—who blamed Santana and made all kinds of crazy assumptions about what had happened. 

“Just delete the app. You don’t need that kind of toxic energy around you.”

Y/N was filling the ketchup bottles while she sat in front of Santana. 

How had this happened, you ask? One of Y/N’s coworkers had recognised her on Santana’s story and pointed it out to her. When Santana visited the diner again, Y/N had jokingly apologised about not knowing who she was before, to which Santana had replied,

“You knew who I was. You knew the real me. Not the celebrity or crazy hot girl from the Yeast-I-Stat commercials.”

After that, Santana made sure to come round when Y/N was done or only doing little chores. 

Y/N loved that she got a new friend and Santana was glad that she finally had someone who she could start over with. Someone who didn’t know her from back in high school and someone who didn’t become friends with her solely for the fact that she was famous.

“I can’t. They want me to post at least once a week.” Santana groaned, “I don’t even know what to post. All I do is sleep, try to write and go here.”

They worked in silence for a few minutes until Y/N opened her mouth again.

“Why are tomatoes the slowest vegetables?”

Santana furrowed her eyebrows, giving her a look. 

“No guesses? Well, they can’t ketchup.”

Santana snorted and shook her head. “Wow, okay. I’m going to pretend you didn’t just make an awful joke.”

“Yeah, you go do that while I bring these to the back.”

Santana watched her leave and sighed. The past week had been hell for Santana. She yearned for every little bit of attention from Y/N and her insides turned to mush whenever the girl smiled at her. But something held her back. She didn’t want to fall in love again. Not yet, not when she still held her high school sweetheart in her heart. But it was so hard to not stare at Y/N or freak out whenever she called her on the phone. 

“Ready?”

Santana laughed at the huge guitar in Y/N’s hands. She seemed so small now. 

“What’s that for?”

“You said you didn’t know what to post. You should post a little acoustic cover of that song I helped you finish last week?”

Santana looked at her, contemplating if she should agree or not. 

“Can you even play?”

Y/N smiled sheepishly, “Only that song. I practiced the chords all week. But hey, if I mess up— just know that i’m willing to publicly embarrass myself just to help you out.”

Santana smiled at her in adoration. “Fine. Okay.”

They walked to the vacant stage and put Santana’s phone on the sheet music standard.

“Oh-I... I’ll scoot out of the frame if me being in it makes you uncomfortable.”

“Why would it make me uncomfortable?”

Y/N laughed, “People might assume we’re together after all the assumptions about you in the magazines. That would be weird.”

Santana’s expression faltered. “O-Oh...yeah.. it would...” She faked a smile.

Y/N started strumming the guitar.

(radio silence by naya rivera)

Santana closed her eyes as she started singing. It was clear to everyone that this song was about Brittany and she wasn’t ready yet to let them hear the whole song. It felt too personal to give it away just like that. Which is why they decided to do just a snippet. 

She opened her eyes and looked at Y/N when one chord sounded terrible. You could hear Y/N giggle from behind the phone. Santana smiled wide and had a hard time singing without laughing. Y/N stuck out her tongue as she seemed focused on getting the next one right. Santana unintentionally looked at her longingly the last few notes but broke out of it when Y/N stopped playing. 

✫彡

Should she be thanking the tabloids? No, never. However, she couldn’t deny that they had been the reason why Y/N had even brought it up. 

“Do you like me?” 

Santana widened her eyes.

“And I don’t mean as friends. I mean like-like. Do you like-like me?”

“I-uh, I-” Santana stammered. 

“It would be really embarrassing if you didn’t, to be honest.”

Santana gave her a wary but panicked look.

“Because I do... like-like you, I mean.”

“Wow, wait— what?”

She opened and closed her mouth until she saw the honesty on Y/N’s face who let her statement linger in the air, hoping that Santana would say something. But the silence only heightened her nerves

“Santana-”

“I can’t... I can’t do this, I’m sorry.”

She quickly grabbed her stuff and left the diner, just like she had done the first time. 

She rushed home, biting her lip to prevent the tears in her eyes from falling. The second she unlocked her front door, she let them go. Santana tried to control her sobs as she sat on the couch, holding her head in her hands. 

Her safety net whenever she felt lost or emotional— Brittany — was gone, what was she supposed to do now? She let out another sob as she missed Britt’s arms holding her close. 

She reached for her phone without a second thought and dialled the woman’s number. Brittany picked up after a few seconds, much to Santana’s surprise.

“Hey, um, Santana. What’s up?”

Brittany decided to break the ice, but all formalities were thrown out the window when she heard the Latina let out another sob.

“Santana, are you okay?! What’s happened? Where are you?”

Was she okay? No. But what was she supposed to tell Brittany? That it was partly because of her?

“Please, say something, Tana. I’m worried.”

Santana held the bridge of her nose and let out a big, shaky sigh.

“Please forget that I called, this was a mistake. I’m sorry for bothering you.”

She hung up. But the phone rang after a few seconds. Santana tossed it next to her on the couch and rubbed her forehead. How could she have been so stupid?

It rang again. And again, and then another three times. Santana stared at the screen long and hard before picking it up. 

“Don’t shut me out, please. You know I still care about you when something’s wrong.”

Santana let out a huff and Brittany knew exactly what that meant.

“Santana, listen— I am so, so sorry for what happened. I too thought that we would be the happiest and sappiest couple forever but... some things just... happen. And I still completely understand how hard it was for you to stay friends with me without being with me and I’m so terribly sorry for that they brought you up in that interview— but I meant everything I said, Santana. You were the best thing that happened to me back then. And to me you still are my best and most incredible friend but... that’s just it.”

A long pause.

“And I kind of really miss hanging out with you and so does Lord Tubbington so if you’re comfortable with the idea, would you want to get together sometime soon? Wait— not get together-together, just... argh, you know what I mean.”

“How did you do it?” Santana broke her silence. “What changed in your mind for you to get the closure you needed? Because I never fucking got it.”

Brittany kept quiet, knowing there was more to follow.

“I have spent a whole year feeling like absolute shit, but I knew... that there was no way that we’d ever get together again. But the closure? Nope.” She furrowed her eyebrows in frustration. “And lately there’s been this incredible girl in my life and guess what? You two are fighting for first place in my head and I can’t help but want to push her out because I’m not ready to let her stay there until you are completely out of my thoughts.”

She heard Brittany let out a breath.

“Sant-”

“Oh, no, no, no. I don’t need a pity-party. I don’t-”

“Santana Lopez, listen to me.” Brittany raised her voice. “If your plan is to sabotage your own happiness, then congratulations— you’re well on your way. It’s no wonder that you’re having a hard time moving on. I mean, one— I’m a catch but two, we were together since high school, that’s a long time. We were each other’s first loves and truth be told, you never really forget those. You’ll compare every following relationship to that one, even if it was full of flaws. Truth is, you’ll never be able to move on or get the closure until you open yourself up to idea of loving someone else again. And I know how you work— you don’t ever want to open up to someone again but... if you give this girl a chance, who knows? She might be the one to change your mind. And I’ll cross my fingers she will. I hope she’ll kick me off first place like a rugby player.” Brittany snorted at her own joke. 

“Because you deserve a special someone too, Santana. And if you still don’t have the closure you need... I loved you, I cared for you, and in a way I still do. But we won’t ever get together again. That ship has sailed. I want you to be happy and I want to see you flourish in every aspect of life, just... without me being your special someone. I’d still very much like to be by your side, though, but as a friend.”

Santana let the words sink in until she suddenly widened her eyes. 

“I am such a fucking idiot.”

“Um... are we having the same phone call? Because I’m lost...”

“She told me she liked me and I ran out.”

“Was that metaphorically speaking or did you literally run out?”

“Like a chicken, Brittany.”

“Santana!? Be Chicken Little and run back!” Brittany exclaimed, “But watch out for the traffic, please, because that would be a tragic end to the story....and it would be animal abuse...”

Santana smiled softly, missing this side of Brittany.

“Okay, okay!” She laughed. 

“Keep me posted?”

Santana hummed, “Thank you, Britt.”

“Of course. You’re still my best friend, even if we haven’t seen each other in over a year. Go get the girl.”

✫彡

Santana hesitantly walked back into the diner. It wasn’t rush hour so there were only a few people having a drink.

“See you guys tomorrow!”

Y/N walked out of the backroom and froze in her spot when she saw Santana looking at her. A tightlipped, awkward smile appeared on her face and she tried to walk passed her but Santana grabbed her hand. 

“Wait, I-...I need to tell you something.”

Santana looked the girl in her eyes, seeing the anticipation and worry in them. But then she saw something else, she saw the same twinkle in her eyes when Y/N sang so beautifully that night. Only this time they were twinkling because she was looking at Santana.

She grabbed the girl’s cheek and planted a chaste kiss on Y/N’s lips. Y/N widened her eyes at first but kissed back. They parted when a bell coming from the kitchen interrupted them.

“So much for needing to tell me something...” Y/N chuckled heartily, “But I guess I got what you were trying to say.”

“You guess?” Santana shot back.

“Yeah... I’m still slightly confused...”

“How’s this?” Santana grabbed her by the waist and kissed her again. Y/N slowly tapped the girl on her chest when things started to get heated.

“Let’s keep it PG, we’ve got an audience.” 

Santana bit her lip in embarrassment when she saw that all eyes were on them now.

“But your message was loud and clear this time.” Y/N whispered in her ear and gave her one of the most adorable smiles.

“Oh...” Santana let out a breathy chuckle and looked at the ground. Being nervous was so out of character for her, but whenever it came to her and relationships she was always a simp for her significant other.

“But... can we take it slow? Because-”

Y/N nodded immediately. “I know, you don’t have to tell me. We’ll take it slow.”

✫彡

Y/N sat on Santana’s bed, reading a book while the Latina was trying to write a new song for her album. She heard yet another paper being ripped apart, followed by a loud groan. 

“Baby, you okay?”

Y/N bent over the couch and hugged Santana’s neck from behind, planting a kiss on her temple. Santana sighed and sat back, feeling more relaxed the second Y/N’s arms wrapped around her.

“It’s not working. I can’t seem to get my exact feelings onto paper and what I have now doesn’t even do it a little bit of justice.”

“The break-up song? Let me see-” Y/N went to reach for the notebook but Santana immediately turned around and smiled.

“You know what? I’m starving, and I want to take you out.”

“Oh— are you sure? We just had-”

“I’m sure. I need a break anyway.”

“Okay...well, let me get a jacket.”

Santana watched Y/N walk into the other room before quickly hiding the notebook behind the couch pillows again. She’d feel so embarrassed if Y/N ever read any of her love songs to her. Truth be told, ever since their first kiss in the diner, Santana had found her new muse. She had written a lot of songs since then but not one seemed to be good enough or do the girl justice. Besides, if Y/N read the lyrics to this song... Well, it would make or break their relationship and Santana wasn’t going to lose someone again.

“Let’s go.”

✫彡

“But I can tell my friends, right?”

“Baby, of course you can.”

“Sweet! I’m going to see them again next week. Can’t wait to see the look on their faces when they see you.”

“Oh, I’m... not sure if going with you is such a good idea.”

“I forgot— we’re taking things slow.” Y/N nodded to herself, “Sorry, I get too excited sometimes.”

Santana caressed the girl’s head and planted a kiss on it, “It’s okay. Soon.”

✫彡

“So, what’s been going on with you? I haven’t seen you in a few months.”

Y/N took a sip of her drink, “Well, i’m still working at the diner, that hasn’t changed. And-”

“You’re in love.”

“How-”

“I can sense it. Also, you've posted a lot of cheesy and soft quotes on your twitter so that was a dead give-away.”

“Well, yes. I’m dating someone.”

“Boy? Girl?”

“Girl, duh.” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Oh my God, Y/N!” Her friend squealed, “Who is it? Show me a picture, let me approve.”

“It’s Santana Lopez.”

The two friends fell quiet.

“The famous singer?” One of them asked.

“Hun, she’s hardly famous anymore. Are we sure she still even exists?”

“Hey!” Y/N pouted. “But I’m telling you the truth. It’s Santana.”

“Real funny, she doesn’t even live in New York.”

“Uh, yeah, she does.”

“No, she doesn’t. TMZ said she moved back to Ohio after the break-up.”

Y/N shook her head, “They also said she started dating a 80 year-old billionaire and bought a pet alpaca, which I think is ridiculous. You’re too gullible.”

Her friend shrugged, “Perhaps, yeah. But hey, it’s okay if you don’t want to tell us who it really is yet.”

Y/N rolled her eyes when they switched the topic.

✫彡

“How did it go, babe? Were you happy to see them again?”

“You’re not going to believe me but they thought I was joking.”

“Joking about what?”

Y/N sat down next to Santana on the couch, immediately cuddling up to her. “Well, they didn’t believe I was dating you.”

“Why would they not believe you?”

“I think you forgot that you’re kinda famous.”

She rolled her eyes, “I’m hardly famous.”

Y/N mocked her, earning a playful punch in the shoulder from Santana but her smile soon disappeared.

“Um...”

“No bad news, please!” Y/N immediately noticed the change in Santana.

“No, no, don’t worry. I mean, I don’t think it’s bad news— it’s just... a lot...to deal with right now.”

“Just rip the bandaid off.”

Santana grabbed her phone and showed Y/N the post.

“Oh...” Y/N swiped and saw that she had been photographed as well.

“I know we said we would take things slow so I’m so sorry that the media is trying to fuck that up again.” Santana examined Y/N, who was difficult to read. “This is exactly what ruined everything last time. Fuck! Here I thought it would be different this time around. I should’ve never-”

“Santana, sshh.” Y/N grabbed her hand, trying to calm her down. “Stop thinking.” 

Santana looked up like a sad puppy.

“Nothing is getting ruined again. Not on my watch.” She put the phone on the coffee table, “Let’s just ignore that. Let them start rumours, let them guess, let them make up drama but the only two people who really know the truth are you and I. It’s our life, not theirs. So no matter what they will say, I will love you unconditionally for as long as you want me to... and I will never feel differently... about you.” 

Santana's head shot up, looking puzzled and panicked at the same time.

“W-Where did you get that from?”

Y/N smiled at Santana and caressed her cheek, “You need to find better hiding places, babe.”

Y/N suddenly looked worried, “Unless that song wasn’t about me... then... well, this is awkward. Just-”

“I love you.” Santana cut her off, tears in her eyes. She felt the urge to pinch herself but decided it would look silly. Was she really in love again after all that she’d been through? 

“I love you too, unconditionally. And... you better make that song your first single.”

✫彡

“Guys, I’m literally in the pictures with her?!”

“Yah, but you look more like a fan of her than her girlfriend, look at you... swooning.”

“I mean, yes, I adore everything she does...”

Y/N’s friend leaned over and smiled, “So you’re really dating the Santana Lopez?”

“I mean, I sure hope she does...” Santana walked up to their table in the little cafe, startling Y/N’s friends while the girl just looked at them with a smirk on her face. Finally.

Santana sat down next to her and gave her girlfriend a kiss before turning back to the two friends sitting in front of them.

“Is that enough proof or do you need me to bend her o-”

“That’s enough!” Y/N gave Santana a playful slap across the head. 

“Oh my God, no!” Y/N’s friend exclaimed, “Speak for yourself! Imagine the money I’d make with a tape of that! I’d finally be the rich bitch I’ve always been deep down.” 

Y/n rolled her eyes at him and it earned a laugh from Santana, “I like you.” 

“Why, muchas gracias.”

“Wow, thanks for completely taking my spotlight. Hi, i’m her best friend, he’s just our accessory.”

“Excuse me?!”

Y/N shook her head at the two of them. 

“Are you regretting you came along?” Y/N turned to her girlfriend.

“We wouldn’t judge you if you said yes, to be honest.” Her friend laughed. 

Santana smiled at them, “No, it’s been a while since I met new people and you two seem fun and well, you mean a lot to this one over here so I’m happy to be here.”

Y/N snuggled up to Santana and put her head on her shoulder.

“Alright, go and make me jealous. It’s fine.”

“Shut up! Now tell us how you two met, please!”

✫彡

Santana couldn’t stop playing with her fingers and the bracelets on her wrist as the hours passed. Only a few more minutes now until her new song ‘My Unconditional Love’ would go online, for the world to hear. There had been a lot of speculations about the two women the past few months, but they had tried to be more discreet when they were outside. Much to the dismay of the paparazzi and tabloids. This song would basically be a dead give away to their relationship but she didn’t care. This song already meant so much to her and Santana hoped she could write plenty more songs like these about Y/N.

“Are you having second thoughts?”

Y/N’s voice interrupted her thinking.

“Wh- No, never! It’s probably my favourite song I ever wrote... it’s just... nerve-wracking, is all.”

“C’mere.”

Santana walked into Y/N’s open arms and let out a big sigh at the feeling of her arms around her. 

“You’ve come a long way and I am so proud of you... but most of all, I’m happy to be on this ride with you. I know this song will point a lot of fingers to us dating but hey, like we said before— no one needs to know but us and our friends and families. Capiche?”

Santana nodded and grabbed the girl’s cheeks, “I’m so happy with you.”

They both beamed from ear to ear until the bell rang. Santana opened the door. 

“I’m so excited!” Kurt squealed and dragged Rachel along inside.

“It’s time, guys!” Y/N sang as she appeared from the kitchen, trying to balance a tray with four champagne glasses on it. 

“Hook your phone up to the speakers!” Rachel grabbed a glass. Santana’s new song started playing which earned raised eyebrows from the three others.

“This isn’t the same song you sent me?!” Kurt exclaimed.

“No, it is. It’s just not the slow version. I’m keeping that version for us.” Santana grabbed Y/N’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “It felt too special to share.”

“Well, damn, I’m digging this one, too!”

They started dancing together to the upbeat song. Y/N kept staring at Santana, who seemed too excited and happy to notice.

Her unconditional love.