#but complaining about me getting upset over it and then discussing it calmly after the fact 😳

[confinesofmy]

the cousin i confided in yesterday explaining how i was triggered told my other cousin (that i'm even closer with) that she was really annoyed with me for taking issue with something that wasn't even that big of a deal anyway so uhhh i'm not initiating contact with her again for a while lol. she seemed mildly annoyed when we were talking about it but i don't pick up cues well over the phone and that didn't really make sense anyway bc why would someone be annoyed at me calmly explaining one of my triggers and discussing what we can do to make everyone more comfortable next time it happens lmao so i was like "oh she's not really annoyed you're just feeling insecure bc you're irrationally afraid of showing emotions" but noooo she was fucking annoyed. she did think i was being difficult for no reason. she doesn't have fucking basic empathy for me. cool cool, cool cool cool.

[goldeneyedgirl]

Re: sex-worker alice— Have you written jasper finding out the alice he left is a sex worker? Cause oof i need to see the reaction to that

The initial meeting between Alice and the Cullens - from Alice's POV - happens on the street accidentally, and Edward identifies the bruises Alice has as something she does for work and is consensual - Jasper is definitely more focused on finding and harming the person who inflicted harm on Alice than comprehending what Alice actually did as a job.

There are also notes for a scene where the various Cullens try to get Jasper to talk about Alice's career choice and Jasper very stubbornly refuses to talk.

The below is the closest I've gotten to the first kind of confrontation, and is a very very rough draft

I'd say I was surprised to see another Cullen waiting for me after work, but I would have been more surprised to be left alone honestly. The surprising part is that it was Jasper. I was sure Carlisle and Esme would make another bonding attempt before Jasper came near me.

He stood up like a gentleman when I walked over, looking every bit as good as I remembered, but I had long since stopped caring what the Cullens thought of my clothing or how I looked. Not everyone was as wealthy and privileged as they were, and sometimes food and shelter came before plush winter coats and buttery-soft leather boots. Not all of us could have flawless skin and glossy hair every moment of the day. 

…Maybe I was still a little jealous. 

"Hi." Jasper's voice is soft, and I can feel his eyes search mine for a moment before I look away, to jam my phone in my bag. 

“Hi. Wasn’t sure who to expect today,” I said in a wry voice. “Figured it would be Esme again.”

He chuckled. “Are we that transparent?”

“Mmm-hmm.” 

//

"Just because you didn't want to see me naked, doesn't mean other people don't," I said calmly, taking a sip of my milkshake. 

Jasper scoffed, and for a moment, he looked annoyed. "That's not true," he began, and I raised my eyebrows. That was probably the closest we’d ever gotten to actually discussing sex. Some very restrained and polite kisses were the closest we got - the singular time we came close to making out, he’d insisted he leave. And I know my sixteen- and seventeen- year old self in her Hello Kitty underwear and thrift shop dresses wasn’t exactly the stuff of teenage fantasies, but I had definitely wanted more back then. 

Jasper gritted his teeth and changed the subject. "I thought you got free college through the state?”

"I get free tuition. I still need to pay for food and shelter and clothing and books,” I said. “Plus I need a car, and new glasses and a whole bunch of human things. The details don’t matter, Jasper, I need to work to afford school.”

“Not like this,” he snapped, and I realised this was as upset as I had ever seen him. 

"An hour of my time starts at one hundred dollars, Jasper," I retorted. "The house pays me sixty from that. There are no jobs for nineteen year old high school graduates that pay close to that. I've had nights where I’ve made a thousand dollars.”

He turned his head away from me. "I don't want to know that.”

"Why?" I demanded. "Because if it's some antiquated notion that I should have stayed virginal and pining for you - after you left without saying a word - whilst being screamed at by women who wanted extra foam in their coffee for ten bucks an hour we have nothing left to say to one another. We both know that you haven't sat around since the Civil War waiting patiently for marriage, so why was I supposed to? Especially when you had no intention of ever seeing me again?”

"You're selling your body, Alice. You can't expect me to be okay with that.”

“It’s my body,” I hissed, standing up. I almost missed Esme’s sad eyes and flowery euphemisms about saving me from my bad choices. “You don’t get to fuck off secretly and then turn up two years later - by accident - to judge me and complain and send your family to try and save me from myself. I needed saving when I was sixteen. Not now.”

Shouldering my bag, I turned to leave when his hand whipped out and clamped around my wrist suddenly and I tried not to flinch, the old bruises protesting at his tight grip. 

“You were supposed to be mine,” he said in a low tone that made the hair stand up on the back of my neck. Whether it was something supernatural or just the anger in his voice, I didn’t know. 

I pulled my wrist away and he let me go. “No,” I said quietly. “I’m not property, Jasper. And whatever we were supposed to be was over the minute you left me in Forks alone. Tell your family that I don’t work Wednesdays.”

And with that, I walked away. 

[merakiui]

hello!!<3 can i request an angst scenario (it can have a happy ending it's up to you!!) childe x fem!reader where they are together for some time and she didn't know he's fatui (she hates them bc her parents were in debt and overall they ruined her life and he's too scared to tell her) but she finds out and wants to broke up?? THANK YOU

In which you discover Childe’s ties to the Fatui.

cw: angst, debt, small mention of depression as a result of debt, female reader note - I woke up and chose pain with this one. >:) it also got long;;; oops!

You hate the Fatui. And although that’s such a strong, hurtful word it's your true feelings. You’ve never experienced their wrath firsthand, but you have witnessed what it can do to people. Your sweet, loving parents, who took loans out of the bank in order to pay for repairs to their shop, were reduced to frightful messes at the mere mention of that harrowing F-word.

It’s horrible to see them in such a state, especially since a few agents had come by once and practically demanded the money. As a result of such a distasteful discussion, you refuse to go into any sort of monetary career: trader, merchant, and even a wandering saleswoman. You’ll find a way to make things right by getting a job that will bring in lots of riches for your poor parents. Then the Fatui will have no choice but to leave your family alone.

Your own funds have dried up, having gone into another Fatui agent’s gloved hands. You can’t even argue because you have an inkling as to what will happen when you finally run out of money to give. Ever since this entire debt charade, your parents have become hollow shells of their former selves: paranoid, depressed, and starved of the happiness that comes with being in a regular, debt-free family.

Childe tunes into your rant as if someone had just turned on the switch that designates his listening skills. The two of you are sitting on a lovely hilltop, watching the stars twinkle in and out of focus. Liyue Harbor can be seen from afar, glittering in warm colors of gold and red. If Childe remembers correctly, another festival should be right around the corner. He’ll have to take you when he finds time to slink away from his work.

Speaking of his work, he’s never actually told you about it. When you asked, he simply said it was a job that allowed him to travel. It sounded like a traveling merchant to you—perhaps even a fishmonger specializing in exotic types—considering he was seemingly loaded with Mora. It made you jealous that he was so well-off with his finances, but you couldn’t complain when he so readily emptied his pockets for your sake.

“And then that stupid agent shows up at our door right when I get home! It’s the worst timing ever. My parents were pretending to be out of the house and I showed up and ruined their plan.” A heavy sigh tumbles from your lips as you flop back onto the grass, where Childe fixes you with a lopsided, sympathetic grin. “I hate it. They’re not even themselves anymore. It’s like they lost all sense of life. I’m picking up as many commissions as I can, but it doesn’t even help. The Fatui just take it all faster than I can save it.”

“They’re the worst, aren’t they?”

“And the sky isn’t blue. Of course they’re the worst!” You inhale softly. “No use getting mad about something that already happened, though.”

“You’ll just give yourself more stress and you don’t need that.” He joins you on the plush grass, turning his head to look at you rather than up at the inky night sky. “I can help with your commissions, you know. I’ve been itching to smash some hilichurl camps.”

“I can handle it myself. It’s fine.” Only it’s not and you’ve started realizing that. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Funny. I was going to ask you something, too!”

“Oh. Uh...”

He chuckles, staring at you with blue eyes that don’t sparkle. “There’s this festival coming up and I wanted to take you. It’ll be just the two of us for one night. You can forget all about work and money—”

“What about you? You said your job has you traveling all over the place. That’s why we’ll rarely see each other in the future. Once you’re done here in Liyue, that is.” You move onto your side, holding yourself up on your elbow. “I don’t think it’ll work.”

“Well, my boss doesn’t have to know. It’ll be our tiny secret!”

You roll your eyes, smiling a little. Deep inside you’ve always felt like something was off about his story. For the past few months, he’s remained in Liyue and once you even caught him slipping into Northland Bank when you were running some errands. You hope he isn’t in a similar situation concerning debt and poverty. No, he wouldn’t need to be. He’s shown you just how many lavish things his funds can afford. Why would he be in debt if he has a stable job?

“Are you...doing something bad?”

You could’ve phrased that better, but it’s already out in the open now. Sheepishly, you avoid his befuddled stare, opting to watch the moon as its light becomes obscured behind a dark cloud. An airy chuckle escapes him, but he doesn’t say anything. His silence confirms your fears and it dawns upon you that he hasn’t been truthful this entire time.

“This mask.” It’s in your hands before he can stop you. You’re tapping at it with a finger, equal parts curious and apprehensive. You refuse to beat around the bush; your doubtful gaze catches his and it hardens at once. “You’re Fatui, aren’t you?”

He sits up calmly, holding out his hand. “That’s quite the accusation, my dear. Let’s not jump to conclusions.”

“I’m not jumping to any conclusion. I’m right, aren’t I?” Now you’re sitting up, staggering to your feet to find some sort of leverage over him. He’s taller than you and far more powerful than he once let on. “Childe, why would—“

He sighs, lowering his hand out of defeat. “I suppose there’s no point avoiding it now. You were bound to find out one of these days.”

“One of these days? What? Like, when my family’s on the streets because the Fatui took our house?”

It hurts that he wasn’t honest and it hurts even more knowing that he has the power to help. He could’ve spent his time working out ways to get you out of debt, yet he decided to shower you in affection and useless trinkets! Trinkets that are only good for selling and receiving money to pay off the debt. You could cry; that’s how much it hurts. And when he makes no solid effort to comfort you, the tears begin to form.

“Of course not. I’d never let that happen!”

“Then why would you lie about it? Why not help me? Why can’t you just be honest? You always avoid questions you don’t want to answer and I hate it! I’ve been with you long enough to know that that mask is bad news. I was just waiting for you to confirm it, but you didn’t.”

You think it’s selfish for wanting his help—for wanting help from a Fatui agent, no less—but you’re too upset to care.

“(Name), you know that’s—“

“What else haven’t you told me? What else have you lied about? I don’t care if you’re trying to protect me. I’m already on a list. The Fatui still show up to my house and you just...let them. Why?”

“If I interfered, it would look bad in front of Her Majesty. You know I can’t go against her orders. I want to help you—I do. But...”

You’re fumbling for new words, at a complete loss with yourself. No matter how many questions you spout, he’ll evade them like they’re optional. And even if you want answers and honesty more than anything right now, you know he’ll fail to provide it. You shove the mask into his hands, shaking your head in disbelief. A swell of emotions overcome you: sadness, anger, and regret. You feel utterly betrayed. The sweet Childe, whom you once thought was your perfect match, is working for the Fatui—the people who have turned your life into misery.

And that’s probably not even the half of it.

“Let’s break up,” you say before he can spin another false tale. Another easy excuse to avoid this downfall. Childe stops short to stare at you in surprise and it’s weird to see that emotion scrawled across his face. He’s usually smooth and collected; he always knows what to say and how to act. Not this time, though. “It’s not going to work if we’re together while the Fatui are hounding my parents. And they wouldn’t approve of our relationship either.”

“Now, (Name), wait a moment. You’re not thinking straight. You’re just—” He struggles to find the correct words and in that small moment between foggy clarity and paralyzing uncertainty he plasters another plastic smile on. “Look. I know you’re upset, but I didn’t mean to lie to you. I was going to tell you eventually. Just had to find the right time to do it, you know?"

“I know. And that’s why we should go our separate ways.” Like Childe, you also put on a faux show, building up your walls as high and strong as his are. You don’t think you’ll last another minute in his presence, as you’re far too close to tears. “Thank you again for tonight. I’ll take my leave now.”

Rather than pain, it’s bitter when your lips fall upon his soft cheek. And the gesture stings harder than a slap on the wrist. 

The searing pain returns when you pull away and begin the descent from the hill as fast as your trembling legs will allow. You refuse to look back and fall into his arms in hopes that he’ll reassure you. The fact that he doesn’t chase after you—doesn’t even call out—stabs your conflicted heart and it’s more than enough confirmation. Childe isn’t exactly boyfriend material. He’s callous when it comes to a battle and he’s driven by his own ulterior motives. Surely this relationship was just a means of spending his extra time when he found himself bored and lacking a fight. Maybe he thought of his work when the two of you were on secretive dates. Maybe his heart was empty when the two of you were intimate. Maybe you were just the glue holding this crumbling bond together.

Childe remains on that hilltop, watching you disappear into the distance. And it’s then when realizes he’s lost you. The feeling is different from the battlefield and it’s far more real than when he’s snooping around as a Harbinger. You’re just a normal, good-natured citizen and he...ruined that part of you. With his ties to an enemy that has crushed your family. He’s partly, if not fully, responsible for what transpired just now and for the first time in a while real guilt gnaws at him. He’s left wondering why he did all of that—why he couldn’t just face your questions head-on.

It’s his fault, isn’t it?

On that windy hilltop, under the silent, disapproving darkness of the sky, he’s left to pick up the pieces of a fractured relationship. And it’s all because he couldn’t admit the truth to his precious girlfriend.

In a way, the Fatui have taken something from him, too, and he’s not sure if he’ll be able to patch it up with honeyed promises. 

Looks like we won’t be going to that festival anytime soon...

[darthkruge]

Okay :3

Could I ask for some quick little hc’s on the reader getting hurt on a mission?

I just need worried and protective Ani rn 🥺

Thank you Butterscotch 💞💝

Anakin x Reader Who Gets Hurt on a Mission Headcanons

Warnings: I mean talk of injuries but no in depth ones discussed. Mainly just protective and worried Anakin with some soft Ani thrown in there too because I physically think I’m incapable of not adding that. 

Words: 1.3k

A/N: Yes my love of course!! I love worried and protective Ani <3 I know you said quick little headcanons but I fucking love protective!Anakin and the getting hurt on a mission thing is one of my favorite tropes lmao so this kinda took on a life of its own. 

gif credit i really like this gif- like a lot- 

Okay first off Anakin is already so protective. He hates that you’re in dangerous situations when you go on missions and he hates it when he can’t go with you. That being said, he knows you’re powerful and competent and he would never doubt your abilities as a Jedi. 

Honestly, his protectiveness says far more about him than you. He’s not worried that you’re not strong enough; he’s worried he’s not strong enough. If you get hurt, he thinks he failed somehow. 

As soon as he sees you get hit, he’s there in an instant. If it happens in the middle of a battle, getting you to safety is his main priority. He’ll scoop you up in his arms and get you out of there immediately.

If it’s more like someone hurts you directly, like a one-on-one thing, he’s going insane. Picture someone stabbing or hitting you to the point where you’re unconscious and bleeding on the floor. Anakin immediately flashes back to losing his mother, to when he wasn’t able to save someone he loved. 

He will kill them if they’re still a threat to you. If not, it’s not like he’s letting them just walk away. He’s infuriated. He first steps in front of your body, shielding you from them. And he’s livid, he’s glaring at them and anyone could tell he’ll fight to the death for you.

His lightsaber ignites, illuminating his enraged expression and they just know they fucked up. 

Even so, you are his priority. Revenge never comes first when it’s between that and keeping you safe. His thought process is: deal with danger as quick as I can so I can go make sure they’re okay. 

He runs up to you and, if you’re unconscious, he’s gently trying to coax you awake. He’ll whisper softly, all “Can you hear me?” “Open your eyes for me, baby.” “Please, Y/N, please let me see your gorgeous eyes.” “Come on, angel, let me know you’re okay” 

His eyes are scanning your body, looking for any possible injuries that he needs to attend to. 

Regardless of what the injuries are, he’s picking you up. He’s not letting you walk or put any pressure on any parts of your body. 

He scoops you up as gently as he can and moves as evenly as he can while rushing you back to the ship, trying not to jostle you around too much.

If you whimper or hiss in pain from the movements, he looks at you so apologetically and whispers an “I’m so sorry, just a little longer, okay?” 

And you’ll nod at him with tears in your eyes and it just makes his heart ache. He hates knowing you’re in pain and that he wasn’t able to stop it or take it away. 

When he gets you back to the ship, he’ll lay you down and try to attend to your injuries as best he can. He’ll grab some gauze and bandages and wrap your wounds, desperate to stop the blood loss. If there aren’t any supplies, he’ll just rip parts of his shirt off to use as bandages. After he did that once you secretly hope they forget the supplies again because-

After he finishes that, you’re normally really cold and exhausted from the blood loss. He wraps you up in all the blankets they might have and pulls his Jedi robe off and puts it around you, too. He knows it brings you comfort and, honestly, it’s really fucking warm. 

He talks to you to try and keep you awake. He’ll tell you stories and although he tries to be strong for you, you can hear his voice shake and his words become faster, sure signs that he’s fucking terrified. 

That’s honestly what gets you to stay awake, more than anything else. You don’t want him to panic. You’ll try to hold his hands, if your injuries allow, and constantly move your thumb against the back of his hand as he does the same to you. The constant movement reminds him you’re alive and conscious and okay. 

As soon as you land on Coruscant, he immediately brings you to medbay. He doesn’t care, you can complain about how much you don’t want to and how you’re fine all you want, he won’t hear it. He got a little upset once because you were desperate and said “please, Ani, please don’t make me go. I just want to go back to our bed and have you hold me. That’s the only thing that could make me feel better right now.”

He was upset because he hates turning you down, especially when you ask like that. The only time he’ll turn you down is if he’s trying to keep you safe. 

He tries to force them to let him stay with you as they run diagnostics, literally yelling out and attempting every trick in the book. Even so, it doesn’t work. They calmly tell him to go sit in the waiting room and they’ll get him when the tests are finished.

He watches them take you away and he paces in the room, chewing on his fingernails and running his hands through his hair in worry. He normally somehow ends up finding his way into a chair and he ends up breaking down. He’ll have his head  in his hands, tears streaming down  his cheeks as he prays to the Maker that you’ll be alright. He’d do anything, so long as you’re alright. 

When they finally call him back, saying your tests are done he’ll run back into the room. You see his disheveled appearance and bloodshot eyes and you immediately reassure him that you’re going to be okay. 

As soon as he can take you home, back into his arms you go. Once again, you’re not walking, so don’t even try it. Further, he just wants to hold you. You normally  kind of turn your head into his chest, embarrassed that he has to carry you through the Temple where anyone can see you in this weakened state. 

Meanwhile, Anakin is staring daggers at anyone who even attempts to look in your direction. His arms tighten around you, keeping you close and you’ve honestly never felt safer.  

He gets you back to the apartment and gently places you on the bed. He looks you over again, just making sure they didn’t miss any of your injuries before he pulls the covers up and comes next to you.

He’ll get you some water and a bit of food, wanting you to get something in your system to help replenish your body. He stays with you the whole time, making sure you eat and drink at least a little bit. 

Even though the medical droids helped, you’re still in pain and he tries to help in whatever way he can. He can see your eyes screwing up as you try to move and get comfortable in bed and he’s just “I know it hurts, baby. I’m so sorry, here, let me help you, okay?” “What can I do to make it better” 

He helps you get settled, pulling you with him in his strong arms until you find a position that allows you to sleep. 

Sometimes you’re shaken up from getting hurt. You’ll tell him how afraid you are or, more frequently, he just knows. He tells you “You’re safe now, my love.” “No one’s going to hurt you ever again.” “It’s okay, I took care of them, it’s okay.” “Look at me, angel. They’re gone, alright? It’s just you and me, right here, safe.” 

As you drift off, he reminds you how much he loves you and you say it back. He’s always the big spoon on those nights. He puts himself closest to the door, shielding your body with his.

Nights after you get hurt are always very special. He holds you to him as tightly as he can, granted this is mostly dependent on your injuries. And you just love it. You feel safe and he feels like he can keep you like that. 

Basically, if you get hurt on a mission, Anakin’s got you. And an enemy has to be pretty stupid to try and hurt you. Not only are you exceptionally badass, but if they somehow get to you, Anakin will hunt them to the ends of the galaxy to ensure they never harm you  again.

----

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[startanewdream]

Quidditch prodigy

Banner by awesome @the-dream-team​.

Summary: This time, when she tells Harry he will be the new Seeker, Minerva McGonagall says: “Your father will be proud. He is an excellent player himself” (and Harry knows it’s true because he spent years watching his father fly).

For @alec-lightwood-bane, who asked for a bit of James getting to be proud with his Quidditch prodigy. The only plot here is fulfilling your request :)

Now on AO3.

________________

From the first time that Harry mounted the little broomstick that Sirius gave him for his first anniversary, James knew his son would be a Quidditch player (sometimes he’d tell Lily that he knew that ever since he felt Harry kicking inside her, but Lily tells him all babies kick; it was not a signal, no matter how at that moment James was talking about Quidditch).

He is not surprised when brooms are Harry’s favourite gifts and, as his godfather, Sirius is more than willing to replace his brooms as Harry grows up, until, finally, for his eleventh birthday, Harry gets a Nimbus 2000. It is his first professional broomstick and Harry can’t stop talking about it all day, promising he will be a Gryffindor player in no time, discussing with Sirius how unfair it is that First Years don’t get to have their own broom nor play in their house team.

That afternoon, after the sunset when the temperature gets milder, they play a kind of five-person Quidditch, which makes no sense and have no rules other than Sirius and Lily are a team, James and Harry is another, and everyone needs to score a goal against Remus, who is a moderately good Keeper.

Harry spends most of the time trying to learn how to ride the broom, so very different from the juvenile models he trained before, mostly intercepting the passes between his mother and Sirius than actually scoring goals. It’s not his son’s best performance, but James says nothing, only ruffling Harry’s hair and making it even more messy than flying already did it.

Harry flies well, naturally, but as a Chaser he always seemed to lack something. He works twice because of it, and James supports him.

The next morning, James awakes at dawn for no good reason. He plans to go downstairs only to drink some water before going back to bed and just laying there, but when he arrives at the kitchen, he finds the backdoor opened.

His wand is at ready at once, but it’s only Harry flying at dawn. He stops at the doorway, watching his son. He really flies perfectly — and boldly, he notices, training movements that James is sure he didn’t teach him and that Lily would have a fit if she saw, long dives that end with him recovering from it at the least possible moment, loops in the air that make him stand thirty feet in the air hanging on his broom only with one hand.

It is like watching him doing an extremely dangerous dance, and James makes sure his wand is ready, just in case, though he feels it’s not the first time Harry is doing this. It looks too well practiced for it. 

And it’s not the usual Chaser movements either.

This thought comes for him at the same time that Harry picks up a Golden Snitch from his pocket. He closes his eyes and lets the Snitch fly away, waiting a few seconds until he opens his eyes and flies upward, standing very still fifty feet up, only his eyes moving, concentrated. James can’t see anything different, but after one minute, Harry dives suddenly. When he recovers from the flight, the Golden Snitch is secure in his hand, its wings flying pointless in his closed hand.

His laugh fills the silence of the morning.

When James starts applauding, Harry’s laugh dies. He turns to his father’s direction, his face reddening and a mortified expression arising there.

‘Dad — I — I can explain —’

It feels as if his son is confessing a sin, rather than showing his talents, and James doesn’t understand.

‘What?’

‘This, I —’

‘Well, I must admit I’m upset’, James says, his voice teasingly, but Harry doesn’t seem to notice this. ‘Next time, you should tell me’.

‘I didn’t want — I mean, this is just for fun, I don’t really —’

‘Flying without inviting me? I am so disappointed’.

Harry pauses, dismounting his broom and holding it unsurely. ‘You are not mad because I was playing Seeker?’

James blinks, confused. ‘Why should I? You are natural!’

Harry looks at his feet. ‘We always trained chasing. You are a Chaser’.

‘Yeah, I was, so?’

‘So I should be one. Like you. Everyone tells me I fly like you, and... I didn’t want to disappoint you’.

James shakes his head, baffled that Harry could come up with that conclusion. Well, there is only way to show him. ‘Mount your broom. Go on’. 

Harry’s eyes are big, not understanding him, but he does as his father says. James keeps motioning for him to go up in the air and, when Harry is fairly high, he transforms the basket of apples in the kitchen into a basket of golf balls, going to the middle of their backyard.

Then he starts throwing one golf ball in the air after another, and Harry understands at once, flying around and catching each one before they fall in the ground, even when James throws more than one at a time. His son is rather breathless when he lands next to his father.

James can only beam. ‘See? You could never disappoint me’.

‘Even if I don’t try for a spot at the team as a Chaser?’

‘Any team will miss much more if you don’t play as Seeker’. Harry lets out a laugh that is undeniably relieved. James watches his son as they sit in the middle of the garden. ‘I mean it, Harry. Even if you didn’t play at all, I would never be disappointed with you’.

Harry raises his eyebrows, eyes glinting with mischief. ‘Even if I hated Quidditch?’

‘Well, you are right, then I would have to disinherit you’, he says seriously, but Harry’s chuckles in answer tells him that Harry understands his father is only joking. ‘Since when do you practice as a Seeker?’

Harry throws him a sideway look. ‘Two years now’, he says, smirking when James looks surprised. It’s not easy to hide anything from his parents, and yet Harry seemed to have perfected that. ‘Ever since I found this old Snitch in the attic’.

He picks up the Snitch again from his pocket. The Snitch tries to fly away, but when Harry hands it to James, the wings calm suddenly, the Snitch resting peacefully on his father’s hand.

‘Oh, what’s that?’

‘Flesh memories’, James explains, smiling. ‘This is the Snitch I nicked a long time ago at Hogwarts. It was never used before, so since I was the first to catch it…’

‘It remembers you’, Harry finishes, amazed.

‘And I remember it’, James murmurs, letting the Snitch fly and grabbing it easily. Even after all these years, his reflexes are still good, he thinks smugly. ‘I used to try to impress your mother with it, you know’.

‘Did it work?’

James runs his hand through his hair. ‘None at all. I hope you have better luck showing off with the Snitch than I did’.

______________________

Harry writes home twice a week at least, and every one of his letters mention how he misses flying and then that he at least is counting the days for the first flying lesson, so he can be in the air even for a little.

James expects his letter as usual the day after the flying lesson is scheduled, but instead he wakes up to find a grey owl waiting for him at breakfast, watching him severely. Only Minerva McGonagall would have an owl that looks as stern as her, but then again James always remembers how McGonagall’s patronus is herself, so he shouldn’t be so surprised.

What surprises him is her request that he comes to meet her as soon as possible that morning, informing the Floo Network to her office will be opened.

It seems serious and he can’t help but think of something happening to Harry. His son’s owl is nowhere at sight, though.

He scribbles a note to Lily informing he will be out for a chat with McGonagall — it shouldn’t be news to her since they met at least once a month to talk about the updates in the Transfigurations field — and quickly vanishes inside the green flames.

She is expecting him when he arrives, looking over a few scrolls.

‘James’, she says, the weirdest of the expressions on her face. She seems satisfied. ‘Have a seat’.

‘Hello, Professor’, he says, slipping into the old formality without even noticing. He usually meets her at the Three Broomsticks, rarely coming into her office. It always brings him memories of his years at school, and he almost expects to find the Head Boy badge pinned to his clothes.

‘You seem tense’, she notes, watching him over her glasses. ‘Take a biscuit’.

He does. Her biscuits are really tasty, but sitting in front of her, waiting for her to talk, makes him feel like he has just done a prank and is about to get a detention.

‘You must be wondering why I called you here’.

That makes him grin. Jokes were always his remedy to diffuse any situation. ‘I reckon you missed me’.

‘Hardly, when I see a copy of you everyday in the halls’, she replies easily, almost smiling. ‘Your son is less loud, though’.

‘Well, he did get a lot of Lily’.

‘Unfortunately not her disposition to follow rules’, Minerva notes, sipping her tea calmly.

‘Uh’, James hesitates, unsure. It’s not normal to call a parent for any misconduct (or else his parents would never leave McGonagall’s office), so if she called him here… ‘What happened?’

‘You know we have some rules that are stricter than others. For instance, this year the third floor corridor is absolutely forbidden’.

Years of ignoring rules make James want to ask what’s there, or else go discover for himself, but he just nods.

‘And one of the rules we always follow is to expressly forbid First Years of owning a broom’.

‘Hum’, he mumbles, still unsure. Harry knows that rule (he certainly complained a lot), and James is sure he saw the Nimbus 2000 waiting patiently in their broomshed, so he doesn’t get what’s her point.

‘Your son is bound to break that rule this year’.

‘He brought his broom?’, James asks before he can think through it, his mind trying to understand how Harry got to replace his broom with a fake copy so he could smuggle it to the castle. There is a mild impression, but if Harry did it, he would be in serious trouble…

‘No, not yet, I was hoping you could send it. He told me has a Nimbus 2000, is that correct?’

Feeling like he is missing the point still, James nods.

‘Good. If you could send it next week, it would be perfect. I am still getting the board’s signature of approval, but it’s only a formality, Albus already authorized it’.

‘Minerva’, he interrupts her. ‘What is happening?’

‘Oh’, she stops, looking simply delighted. ‘Yesterday during his first flying lesson, your son took to the skies after some silly gibbering with the Malfoy boy. As you may know, Rolanda is quite loud about how any First Year that flies unsupervised gets expelled. Or, well, a detention at least, but we don’t tell them that. First Years are so inclined to follow the rules… present company excepted, of course’.

James smiles guiltily now. But even he, desperate as he was to join the team, followed that rule at least. Madame Hooch really imposed fear.

‘What happened then?’

‘I saw him through my window’, Minerva tells him, pointing to the window next to her, that provides a nice view of the grounds. ‘Fifty-foot dive, recovered without a single scratch. Did you teach him that?’

James raises his eyebrows. ‘No, actually, he taught himself’.

‘Well, he is a natural, that I can’t deny. So I made him the new Seeker’.

‘Hum, what?’

‘Seeker’, she replies, not bothering to hide her smirk now. ‘I know you’ve been long gone from the Quidditch field, but you do remember what a Seeker is, I am sure’.

Later he will appreciate the fact that Minerva McGonagall is teasing him. For now there is only bewilderment.

‘But — seeker — no First Year — he must be the youngest Quidditch player in decades —’

‘A century, actually’, she corrects him. ‘I checked the records’.

‘That’s — that’s amazing! I am so —’, he stops, staring at her. ‘He broke a rule and you are awarding him?’

Minerva looks moderately embarrassed. ‘It’s not an award. I expect him to train harder to compensate for the years the other Seekers have of advantage, and if he doesn’t seem to take this seriously, I will reconsider not punishing him — oh, stop smirking, Potter’.

She looks suddenly stern again, but James can’t help himself.

‘You have a soft spot for him!’, he declares, grinning. 

‘I certainly do not play favourites’, she answers, voice full of dignity. ‘I only think of what’s best for Gryffindor and —’, she drops all pretenses suddenly. ‘— you should have seen the try outs! Wood, that’s the captain, Oliver Wood, was crying at the end because no one was able to even find the Golden Snitch. And after last year…’ She shakes her head. ‘If it means we won’t get flatten out by Slytherin ever again — that annoying smirk on Snape’s face —, oh, well, I would buy your son a broom myself!’

James smiles proudly now. There was always a fanatical Quidditch enthusiast in Minerva and he adores when it shows. And from all he knows of Snape, he will hate the fact that James Potter’s son is in the team in his First Year, which is only a bonus (though that is a thing he won’t admit out loud).

‘No need. I will make sure he is dedicating himself, but knowing Harry, he is just too marvelled at being part of the team. It’s what he most wanted’.

She sighs, somberer now.

‘And that’s why I called you, actually. Considering your long history of disregarding rules, this Seeker position is not to mean that your son will get away with everything. I’d rather have him go through his school years without too many detentions’.

‘Only a few?’, James teases.

‘Let’s aim for one third of yours and I will call it a success. He is a Potter after all’.

James nods, trying for a serious expression that’s broken by the fact he can’t stop beaming. His son. First Year Seeker! He can’t wait until he tells Sirius.

‘Oh, I will talk to him’, he assures her. ‘We can’t let detentions get in the way of Quidditch’.

____________________

[cobaltusami]

Can we get a Ishimondo fic please? Maybe lee!Mondo but its up to you lee!Taka is fine too. May we a tk fic with ishimondo is all I request if its ok friend.

I mcfricking love these two dorks so much-- I had a blast writing this so thank you so much for requesting It friend!

Words: 2746

Characters: Lee!Mondo, Ler!Taka

Pairing: Ishimondo

EDIT: Part two Is here!

Part two: Lesson Learned

Merciless

The library was normally vacant at this hour, as most sane people were In their beds sleeping at three In the morning. Not Kiyotaka Ishimaru though. And by proxy, neither was Mondo Owada, whom Taka had pulled out of bed at this ungodly hour to help study before classes started for the day.

Mondo propped his face up with his hand, His eyes half open as Taka droned on about biology. Was he listening? Well… An attempt was certainly made. But that was It.

The biker hadn’t even had time to fix his hair or throw on real clothes when his boyfriend came barging In- Something he normally didn’t mind but found a bit much today.

He had time to quickly throw on a zip up jacket and throw his hair up into a messy bun, a look he didn’t particularly care to sport. At least his pajama pants sort of matched his jacket…

“Mondo! Are you even listening to me??” Taka stopped his lecture suddenly, whipping around to face his half asleep boyfriend.

“Huh? Yeah, Totally.” Mondo mumbled, sitting upright and rubbing his eyes. 

“Repeat back what I just said.” Taka challenged, folding his arms as he sat down across from the other student.

“You were talking about bones and stuff.” He yawned and stretched.

Taka sighed, resting his arms on the table. “Yes but you aren’t taking In anything I’m saying.” He responded in a softer tone.

“I’m sorry, I’m trying It’s just…” Mondo felt his face flush with embarrassment. “It’s too god damn early In the morning!” 

He tried to put on his usual annoyed or angry tone, But he failed miserably. This didn’t go unnoticed by the energized student.

“Is something else bothering you? Is It me? Do you not like studying with me?” Taka rambled anxiously. “Because I-If so, I can ask someone else to--”

“No! No, It’s nothing like that.” Mondo interrupted, He reached across the table and grabbed Taka’s hands, holding them in his own slightly trembling one’s. “I-It’s just… I’m sorry.” He sighed, Looking away.

“What Is It? What’s bothering you, Bro?”

Mondo flinched, internally shoving his feelings aside as he refused to look at Ishimaru. “Don’t worry about It.” He replied in a softer tone.

Taka knew Mondo quite well by now, as they had been dating for several months. He knew that something was definitely troubling the Biker gang leader, And that he would sooner convince Leon that baseball was fun than he would get him to discuss what was troubling him.

That’s why he needed some... Encouragement.

“Fine. I guess we should continue then.” He pulled his hands away slowly, he didn’t really want to break the hold but it was required for this to work. “Perhaps I need a more direct teaching method.”

Mondo quizzically studied his face. What could he mean by that?

Taka got up and went over to Mondo’s side. “What are the bones in your spine called?”

“Wha? That’s not In the…”

“Answer my question.”

Mondo narrowed his eyes as he looked up at the raven haired student. What Is he up to? “Vertebrae.”

“Very good. How many are there?” Taka walked around him, Standing behind him now.

“Fuck If I know, That’s not even on this upcoming tes--” Mondo clamped his mouth shut as he felt a finger slowly trailing up his spine. He arched his back away from the strange sensations as he stifled a giggle. “What the fuck are you doing?!” He snapped.

As he tried to turn around In his seat to fix Taka with a glare, He felt Taka place his forearm against the back of his shoulders near his neck, and pushed him down against the table, pinning him there.

“How many Vertebrae make up the spine?” He repeated the question calmly, As If this were totally normal.

“Get the hell off of me!” He complained, struggling. Taka was surprisingly strong, able to hold him in place with relative ease.

He felt fingers begin to lightly scribble around his back, paying special attention to his spine. He tried to suppress his giggles, But found he was unable to due to being so tired. “T-Tahahaka! What the hehehell are you doing?!”

“I’m helping you study.” He answered without missing a beat. “How many Vertebrae are there?”

“Thihihihirty threehehehehe!” He giggled tiredly, Relieved when the tickling stopped momentarily.

“Correct. See? You did know! It Is The Cervical, The Thoracic, The Lumbar, and The Caudal vertebrae that make up the spine.” He informed him. “Where on your spine Is the Cervical?”

“The neck.”

“Good. How many of those thirty three are Cervical Vertebrae?” He asked, Smirking.

“I-I don’t know!” Mondo stammered, feeling butterflies fluttering around in his stomach.

“That’s not an answer, Kyoudai.” Taka teased, fluttering his fingers lightly against his neck. 

This action drew an actual squeal from the tough biker as he tried to turn his head to protect his neck. “Tahahahaka! Stahahahap Ihit!”

“As soon as you answer my question!” The Ultimate Moral Compass couldn’t help but chuckle at the not so manly sounds coming from Mondo-- who by the way, was giggling quite adorably at the moment he might add.

“I dohohohon’t knohohow!” He tittered, squirming around to no avail.

“Think about It, how many does it feel like?” Taka hummed. Adjusting his hold on Mondo, he was now able to use his other hand to tickle his neck. He used his other hand to press into each vertebrae in his neck carefully. “Count out loud, How many Is It?” 

Mondo decided that Taka was enjoying this waaaay too much, and he was so gonna get it later. “Onehehe, Twohoho… Threehehee, F-Fohohour…”

Taka suddenly leaned forward and smothered the side of Mondo’s neck with raspberries, Causing him to shriek in surprise.

“FihihivEEEEE! HAHAHAHA! T-TAHAHAKAaAaA!”

“Oh, Whoops, Looks like you lost count. Guess I’ll just start over for you.” He smiled, starting over at the top of his neck. “Don’t lose count this time~”

“I swehehear to gohohod, You’re sohohoho dead after thihis!” He giggled, sending his best glare over his shoulder at his evil boyfriend.

“You’re not counting, Kyoudai~” He sang teasingly, speeding up the tickles to his neck.

Mondo began laughing now, complying with his demands and counting aloud once again.

After some very s l o w movements down his neck, most likely to extend the tickles and make him suffer, he finally arrived at the last vertebrae. “Seheheheven! Ihihihit’s seheheven!” 

Taka relented, pulling back and releasing Mondo from his hold. “Very good!” He beamed.

While Mondo was leaning back in his seat catching his breath, Taka thought about his next attack. He reached around the chair, pinning Mondo’s arms to his sides as he unzipped Mondo’s jacket. 

“The fuck are you doing now?” He panted, too tired to struggle.

Taka leaned down and rested his chin on his shoulder, smiling as he glanced at Mondo’s flushed face. “How many ribs does a person have?”

Mondo’s eyes widened as he nervously thought about it. “T-Twenty four?”

“You don’t sound too sure, Mondo.” Taka continued to smile as he spoke. “Are you absolutely sure?”

Mondo went over his previous biology classes in his head, thinking it over as quickly as he could. “Yeah.” He replied carefully, not liking the smile on Taka’s face one bit.

Taka hummed. “Okay… If that’s your answer.”

“W-Wait! H-How many Is it??”

“I thought you were absolutely sure?”

“I-I am! I just… want confirmation.” 

“Well, If you insist.” Without another word he dug into his ribs.

“TAKA! I mehehean’t verbal confirmaaaation! HAhahahahahaha!”

“You weren’t specific, And since you’ve had trouble taking in my verbal teachings thus far, I feel like my hands on approach Is much more effective!” He grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “Worry not, Kyoudai! I’ll count for you this time!” 

“Dohohohon’t you fucking dahahahare!”

Ignoring the empty threats and string of curses Taka began massaging circles against the sensitive bones, starting at the bottom and working his way up. “One, Two, Three…”

“Shuhuhuhut the fuhuhuhuck up!” Mondo barked out through his laughter, his face was hot with embarrassment at the teasing.

“That’s not a very nice thing to say. And you made me lose my place!” Taka frowned, pausing his ticklish attack.

“Y-You deserved It.” Mondo mumbled between small gasps for air.

“I don’t know why you’re so upset, I’m simply trying to help you better your grades!” He said innocently.

“Bull fucking shit.” The Biker retorted. “You’re just having fun tickling the hell out of me, You’re fucking merciless!”

His cruel boyfriend let out an amused laugh, Mondo could be such a drama king sometimes… “Please, Mondo. I--”

“Just you wait until I get my hands on you, Kiyotaka Ishimaru. You’re gonna scream so loud with laughter that you won’t be able to talk for days.” 

“Oh? Is that a threat?” Mercy? We don’t know her anymore. Taka has now woken up and chosen violence.

“Well, In that case, I suppose I should take it up a notch… Wouldn’t you agree, Kyoudai?” The red eyed man whispered in his hotheaded boyfriend’s ear.

Mondo Is now as good as dead, Like please sign your last will and testament by the x on the dotted line.

“W-What are yo--”

“How many nerves are In the human body?” 

“How am I supposed to know?! No one knows an exact amount!”

“Maybe not an exact number, But there is an approximate. So what Is it?” Taka asked. “How many horribly ticklish nerves do you have?”

It was at this moment he knew, He fucked up. “T-Taka wait I--”

“Hmm. Well, Perhaps I can help you figure It out.” Taka smiled mischievously as he shoved his hands under Mondo’s arms, wiggling his fingers with reckless abandon.

Mondo screeched and threw his head back in hysterics. He thrashed around with newfound energy. “SHIHIHIT! TAHAHAHAHAKA NOHOHOHOT THEHEHERE!”

“Well? Do you want to wager a guess? How many nerves does it feel like?” Taka’s sweet smile deceived his cruel actions. “I would imagine It has to be quite a few! You wouldn’t be laughing this much If there weren’t a lot of ticklish nerve endings everywhere. Especially In this spot.”

Mondo doubled over as much as he could, laughter wracking his body. He did this in an attempt to break Taka’s bearhug-like hold on him, but he held strong. “I DOHOHOHON’T KNOW!” 

“Not even a guess? Okay, I’ll give you a hint then. It’s not a million or a billion!” Taka laughed at the squeal that erupted from his boyfriend when he started tickling faster.

“FAHAHAHACK! A-A TRIHIHIHILLION!?”

“Yes! But how many trillion Mondo??”

There was no end In sight, Nor any escape. He even tried throwing himself out of the chair but the merciless assailant wouldn’t allow him to, since he had his arms locked around the back of the chair as well.

After what felt like forever, The Biker sank back into the chair, his head resting against The hall monitor’s shoulder as he laughed. His body felt like jello at this point from a mixture of laughing, struggling, and just not getting a lot of sleep the night before.

Surprisingly enough, Taka relented and withdrew his hands, though he kept his arms around the still giggling man before him. “The answer Is over seven trillion.” 

“Fuhuhuck… That was evil…” He panted.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have threatened me.” the raven haired man hummed in response. “Besides, I learned from you.”

Okay, so maybe we do know who Mercy Is, It seems like things are finally calming down between these two and-- 

“It wasn’t a threat… It was a damn promise…” Mondo growled.

Taka sighed. “You never learn, Do you?”

He unceremoniously released his hold on Mondo as he had started to struggle again, causing the biker to tip his chair over to the side and hit the floor with a yelp of surprise and an ungraceful thud.

Taka was quick to follow him to the floor, straddling his legs and grabbing both of his wrists in one hand to hold them in place. “Are you ready for your next lesson?” He asked, Energized again.

“For the last time… Get the hell off of me!” Mondo yelled, flailing as much as possible. Though that wasn’t a whole lot.

“Don’t worry, It’s the final question!” Taka responded with a mischievous smile. “Ready?”

Mondo eyed him cautiously but said nothing.

Taka leaned down near Mondo’s face, His smile widening into a grin as he spoke in a calm tone. “How many raspberries can your stomach take?”

Chills shot down his spine, that had to be the most unnerving question he’s gotten In a while. “T-Taka, Don’t you dare. I swear to God! I will kick your ass!” He tried to sound angry, but It came out panicked instead.

“Well? How many? One? Two?” Taka pondered aloud. 

“None!”

“None? I’m sure that’s not true, Kyoudai! Don’t be modest, You’re quite tough... I think you can handle at least five!” Taka beamed, giggling.

“FIVE?! Do you want to kill me!? I’ll fucking die!”

“But Mondo! We must find out, For science!” Taka declared, wasting no more time he dipped down and blew a raspberry against Mondo’s quivering belly.

The Ultimate exploded, Laughing rather uproariously as his back arched out of reflex. “NAAHAHAHAHAHAHA! TAHAHAHAKAA!”

“One~” He sang teasingly before blowing another raspberry.

“GAHAHAHAHAD DAHAHAHAMMIT STAHAHAHAHAP!”

“Two~” and another one. “Three~”

“IHIHIHIHIM SOHOHOHORRY FOR THREHEHEHEATENING YOUHUHU!” 

“Hmm? What was that?” Taka asked, halting his ‘scientific studies’ for a moment.

“I-I’m sohohorry… for threheheheatening you…” The giggles still poured freely past his lips as he gasped for air. “I wohohn’t… Get revehehenge on you… Just stohohop…”

“What If I don’t believe you?” Taka asked cautiously.

“I promise…” Mondo mumbled. “I won’t seek revenge on you If you let me up right now.”

Hmmmmm…

“I’ll let you up on one more condition.” Kiyotaka said, His face  turned serious for the first time since this started. “Tell me what was bothering you earlier.”

Mondo flinched. “L-Listen man… It’s kind of embarrassing…”

“Why? You know I don’t judge you, Kyoudai.” Taka frowned. “You can tell me anything.”

“N-Not this I can’t.” Mondo stuttered, Looking away. “Just trust me, It’s better you don’t-- GAHAHAHAHA! TAAAHAHAHAHAHAKAHAHA!” He shrieked with laughter as Taka blew another raspberry.

“Four. Sorry bro, But those are my demands. If you do not comply then I’ll be forced to--”

“OKAYOKAY JUST STAHAP!”

Taka smiled and moved off of the tough student, sitting next to him on the floor. “What was bothering you?” he asked after giving him a moment to collect himself.

Mondo sat up, his face burning with embarrassment as he spoke. “It’s just…” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “When I’m tired, I wanna find somewhere comfortable to rest… And…”

“And?” Taka asked, perplexed.

Mondo took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “W-WELL, I KEPT ZONING OUT BECAUSEIWANTEDTOCUDDLEUPTOYOUANDSLEEP-- There! I said It!” 

Taka’s face turned pink and his eyes widened a little. He knew Mondo was telling the truth, because he yelled. Which meant he was nervous. 

“S-S-See? I told you that you didn’t want to-- ACK!”

Mondo opened his eyes just in time to get tackled back down to the floor by Taka, This time In a hug. “Why didn’t you just say so earlier!? I was worried you didn’t like spending so much time with me or something!” He mumbled into Mondo’s shoulder.

“Wha?? Why the fuck would you think that?! Of course I like spending time with you babe!”

Babe... It has a nice ring to it. “B-Because... Most people get tired of me.” 

Mondo frowned and gently pulled back from Taka’s hug to look into his eyes. “Hey, Listen. I will never get tired of you. I love spending time with you!”

“Even today?” Taka looked up at Mondo with a hopeful look on his face. 

His cheeks turned red again. “Y-Yeah… Even today… J-Just don’t get used to using that teaching method!” He tried to pick up the shattered pieces of his tough exterior, but alas, they were gone.

Taka giggled with amusement. “Deal. I’ll only use it when you really aren’t paying attention.”

Mondo flinched, Making a mental note to try to always pay attention from now on.

Taka went to pull away from him, but Mondo pulled him back against his chest. “Where do you think you’re going? This Isn’t over.” Mondo smirked.

“B-But Mondo! You promised you wouldn’t--”

“Uh-uh~ I promised no revenge if you were to let me up at that exact moment. Which you did not.” The biker reminded teasingly, positioning his fingers over Taka’s sides. “Any last words, Kyoudai?”

“W-Wait, M-Mondo-- NOHOHOHO!”

Let’s just say, Not a whole lot of studying was done for the remainder of their session. The library filled with laughter once more.

[sup-hoes-its-me]

Adore You (Yamato x Reader)

A/N: hi guys. Yamato is your secret admirer and you are desperate to find out who's been leaving all these gifts at your doorstep. Civilian reader. Will be two parts, and since i just found out i have the coronavirus and cant leave the house, i’ll be putting out the second part very soon.

Ps i headcanon that yamato would be very shy and awkward with his crush. i also think that when he is nervous he definitely has really sweaty hands. idk thats just the vibe i get from him lol. please enjoy.

Word count: 4500

Y/N walked down the street after a long day of working in the bakery, kneading dough and icing cakes and sweets. It was a great job, and she really enjoyed the company of the two elderly owners. In her arms was another small picnic basket filled with sourdoughs and garlic loaves and cinnamon raisin buns. Those leftovers served as her breakfast, lunch, and dinner most days and it saved a lot of money on groceries.

Sometimes, she gifted the bread to friends and family though, like tonight.

As she walked the bustling streets, people walking home from work for the night, she noticed a couple of familiar faces sitting in the windows of a nearby restaurant. Feeling a little social, she walked into the restaurant and turned the corner, walking through the tables and past other booths full of people talking and drinking. It was busy tonight in Konoha, everyone getting ready for the weekend.

She came to a stop beside their table, and shifted so her basket rested in the slight curve of her hip. With her free hand she waved to the men, a small smile gracing her lips.

“Kakashi, Yamato,” she chirped, “I saw you guys in the window on my way home from work and thought I’d stop in to say hello.”

“Y/N. What a pleasant surprise.” Kakashi hummed, peering over his glass of golden liquid at his friend, who he could tell was struggling to figure out what to say or do. Yamato wasn’t normally nervous; he was very cool headed. How else would he become such an important Anbu member? But around Y/N, this woman with flour dusted in her hair and the smell of cinnamon and chocolate on her clothes, he crumbled. Just that smell alone could make Yamato lose his composure. And Kakashi knew that very well. “As a matter of fact, we were just talking about you.”

Yamato coughed on his drink, covering his mouth with his arm to keep from spitting up on the table. Even if they were just talking about her, it was completely uncalled for for Kakashi to stab him in the back like that. He turned to face the young woman who looked down at him with curiosity in her eyes.

“Really? What about?” she questioned, raising a brow.

He averted his eyes to the table again where his hand rested clutching at the glass. “We were just discussing the bakery,” he explained sheepishly, a hand going to rub the back of his neck. He felt the stress coming on, and sweat was beginning to gather on his palms. He felt ill, and more importantly, upset with the friend sitting directly across from him, smirking under that damn mask.

What an evil bastard.

“Mind if I join you guys? I could definitely use a drink.” She motioned to the seat next to Yamato, and he scooted closer to the wall to make room for her. She made sure her basket was sealed and secure before reaching over the table to Kakashi. “Can you sit this next to you? I don’t wanna take up the whole table.”

“No problem.”

She slid into the seat beside Yamato, and he realized just how small their table really was. The chair was clearly made for one person, or maybe two small people. They were just inches away. He could literally feel the heat of her thigh beside his. He was losing his mind, he was sure of it. There was absolutely no reason to act or think this way just because of a woman, a little baker from the village. No reason. It was inappropriate.

He took a deep breath and sipped on his drink. Everything was cool. Y/N L/N was cool.

“What kind of goods are you bringing home tonight?” Yamato asked calmly.

“Uh, lets see. A sourdough loaf and a garlic rosemary loaf. Also, I have about eight cinnamon buns in there,” she listed off the top of her head, “Why? You wanna take some home with you, because that’s fine. I’m not gonna eat all of it.”

“No, not this time.”

“You, Kakashi?”

“Yeah, I’ll take whatever.” It was a free meal for the next day? How could he say no to that?

The waitress came around, and Y/N ordered a tall glass of some sweet drink, something she knew wouldn’t taste like shit but would get her all warm and cozy quick, fruit juice covering up the taste of poison. “So, what were you guys talking about before I came around? I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

“It’s good you came around, actually. We could use a woman’s opinion here.” Yamato glared at Kakashi, pleading with everything he had for the copy nin to just leave it alone. Kakashi was set in his goals though, and pushed forward with what he was saying. “It’s about Tenzo.”

An even brighter smile grew on her lips, one full of mischief and curiosity. “Oohoho? I see. What’s got you men stuck?” She loved to gossip, it was just something so interesting in her mundane life. Surely, it wasn’t as interesting to shinobi who almost die all the time and always have something to do, but for a village girl who goes home every night to read and eat bread, and then go to work where she just makes and sells said bread, a bit of juicy personal information really intrigued her.

“It’s honestly not a big deal-”

“Our boy here, he’s got a crush.”

Her eyes widened and suddenly, she felt the urge to down even more of her drink. He was interested in someone? She never expected that. He was always so quiet and calm, and kept to himself. He didn’t seem like the type to ever care about someone in that way. She sighed, taking a long sip on her drink, which tasted like peaches and oranges. At least it was sweet enough to help her curb the impending sadness.

Maybe she was stupid for it, but she cared for Yamato. He was such a sweet and kind man, so earnest and gentle. He was everything good about her mornings, when he would walk in and ask for the same hot cross bun to start his day. He would smile and compliment the cake decorating she was working on, and tell her about his missions and what he had to do for the day.

Perhaps Y/N had the tiniest of crushes on Yamato. It was something she would never reveal to anyone else, but it was true. She couldn’t deny herself that fact.

Kakashi stared at the woman, gauging her reaction to the statement. From the way she immediately went to sip away half of the drink in her glass, and the way her shoulders curled in on themselves, he could guess how she was feeling. He wasn’t usually a fan of meddling in other people’s business, but he was beginning to feel tired of Yamato complaining day in and day out about how he could never get the girl or express his feelings. He was afraid of rejection, as sad as that might be.

He was just there to give them a push in the right direction.

“I see.”

“What do you think he should do? What do the civilian girls like?”

This crush was just another civilian. It would be one thing if he fell in love with a kunoichi, someone she would never be able to compete with, but the thought of him choosing another normal woman over her, the envy practically oozed from her pores. What did this other girl have that Y/N didn’t?

Y/N ordered another drink when the waitress walked by. And then another after she drank the second one. Might as well get more down and drown out these jealous thoughts.

Meanwhile, she listed off things that random women normally like when men do for them, things she didn't really care about like chocolates and asking them out to dinner and giving them stuffed animals. Boring things. Things they all already knew. Kakashi agreed that the advice was kinda bland, and he could have come up with that easily.

Yamato eyed her down nervously as she practically chugged the rest of her drink. The woman wasn’t a big drinker, just a couple innocent cocktails here or there, never with the intention of getting drunk.

“You okay, Y/N?”

“Yes, I’m perfectly fine,” she told him smoothly. “Anyway, I’m not done telling you all about us village girls.”

The third drink came by and she sighed, taking another long sip. At least it tasted good, that made it easy to drink and drink and drink.

“Maybe you should slow down.”

“Maybe you should worry about yourself. I’m grown. I can handle myself, Yamato.” He felt a pang in his chest at her sharp words, ones that he’d never really heard directed toward him. She scolded Kakashi on the daily for being a pervert, but only kind words met Yamato’s ears previously. “Anyway, about this girl. Have you tried getting her anything as a gift? The things I listed before? Love notes? That sorta thing?”

He shook his head. “Well, no. I haven’t tried anything yet.”

“That’s the thing about you, Tenzo. You’re so modest. If you want the girl, you need to go in and get her. You need to show her what she means to you, since you can’t bring yourself to just outright tell her.”

“The whole bold displays of affection aren’t my thing.”

She hummed, her head lolling from side to side as she twirled the straw of her drink in between her fingers. “Maybe you should try some roundabout approach since you’re so scared of rejection. Send her anonymous letters and gifts, give her little clues that it’s you and see how she reacts.”

“Like a secret admirer?"

“Exactly! That’s sooo romantic. I wish some guy would do that shit for me.”

Kakashi raised a brow. “Oh, really?”

“Of course. I’m almost 27 and I’ve never had a long lasting relationship. I just want some guy to really, I don’t know, just love me. Love who I am, not hook up with me for my body or-or only pretend to like me for coupons on bread,” she complained, quite loudly as well. “Fuck those guys and their bread discounts...”

“Y/N-”

“I’d suggest you do something like that for your crush. Make her feel like you really care about her mind and soul.” Y/N clutched her hand over her heart and squeezed the front of her dress. “So many men nowadays act like horny teenagers, and us ladies are sick of it.”

She really did not need to go into such detail, and Yamato could tell she was drinking too much. Y/N would never say these things aloud if she were completely in her right mind. He felt rude just sitting there letting her rant on and on, exposing her own feelings to the table. But at the same time, he was grateful to know what she wanted in a lover. She never really let on what her romantic life was like, other than single for the most part.

That is what he and Kakashi were discussing before she came around. He was desperate to sweep her off her feet and woo her, to make revealing his feelings easier. Kakashi told him to just go to the bakery and tell her right then and there, but that was just too bold. He wasn’t going to go in without a plan, it was irrational.

“Yamato, I’m telling you, if this woman rejects you, she’s fucking stupid. You’re a catch. You and Kashi over there, both of you could get any woman you want, and that’s a fact.” the woman waved her hand to emphasize her point, only to knock the rest of her fourth drink over into her lap, sticky syrup soaking into her apron and through to her skirt. “Oh man.”

“I think it’s time for you to head home, little miss Y/N,” Kakashi chimed in, “This is exactly why we don’t bring you to bars, you know.”

“Shush. I am fine.”

Yamato sighed, motioning with his hands for her to move to the edge of the seat. He rolled his eyes at her words, knowing she was talking out the ass. “Yeah, yeah. Just get up, Y/N. I’m taking you home.”

Both men were surprised when she lifted her hand and pushed him away from her. Her glare was intense, anger behind those eyes. “No! Not you. I want Kakashi to walk me home.” The man was taken aback by the harshness in her tone. She was normally calm tempered, but her head was spinning and she was obviously growing moody.

“That’s fine by me. Yamato, you’ll pick up the bill for us and uh, clean this mess, right?” Kakashi smirked as he slid out from the booth and picked up her bag of baked goods. She followed suit, climbing out of her seat and grabbing onto the shinobi’s arm tightly. He really couldn’t care any less about her nonsense. It had been so long since they became friends, he’d seen her in every mood imaginable, and much drunker than this. He’s walked her home more than a few times in their past years.

“Curse you, cheap-ass.”

“Gotta go.”

With that, the white haired man walked out the restaurant with a woman in tow. They lived in the same direction, so he started down the street as she stumbled after him, tripping occasionally on pebbles. He felt bad for his friend, really. But the answer was clear as day now. Y/N cared for Yamato a lot more than she let on. It was just up to one of them to make a move. He couldn't do everything for them.

She tripped along beside him, letting her head fall against his shoulder a few times. Her eyes slid up to the man’s masked face, and he felt her hands begin to quiver a bit around his arm, just a tiny bit, but it was still there. Those little, very-telling, tremors.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” he asked gently, knowing she would immediately spill whatever was stuck on her mind.

“Kashi, why does Tenzo want some other village girl?” she questioned, her cheeks puffing out and her eyes getting watery with tears. “Why doesn’t he want me? I want him so badly, it hurts right here.” she placed her free hand over her stomach and gagged. “I might throw up, it hurts so much.”

“Trust me, it’s gonna be okay,” he hushed, a tiny smile on his lips. He didn’t want to reveal too much to her, but it was just so amusing pulling the strings like this. Two of his friends, one a subordinate and the other a sneaky baker, falling for each other right in front of him. With all the work piling up, this was definitely a refreshing take.

“Also, you shouldn't throw up. It'll burn your throat, you know.”

She nodded, and just clutched onto her stomach as they made their way down the narrow alleyways toward her small apartment. He unlocked the door for her when she struggled to fit the key into the tiny hole that blurred together with everything else. He was a good friend, she thought, and made a mental note to thank him next time she saw him. Well, she tried to make a mental note, but when her body hit the mattress in the corner of her small studio, she found herself drifting away.

__________

God, her head hurt so badly she thought her skull was cracking open right then and there, as she lifted her head from her pillow. Light shined in through the window only to make things worse than before. She looked around the room and noticed that her coat was hung up properly on the hook and her shoes were sitting by the door. Her basket rested atop her counter.

Most importantly, on her nightstand sat a glass of water and a couple pills, ready for her to take the moment she woke up. Kakashi or Yamato must have walked her home and put her to bed. They were very nice men, she enjoyed having them as friends, she just worried she had made a drunken fool of herself last night in front of them. She rarely drank heavily, for that reason. She couldn’t even remember what happened, just that she met them at the restaurant and then the rest fell empty in her mind, little images blending together until she couldn’t decipher a thing that happened. She was more than ashamed.

How could she lose control of herself so casually, she wondered. She never even wanted to drink, much less enough to give her this searing headache. Something must have happened last night that influenced her decisions. Maybe she had a drinking contest with Kakashi like that one time before. If so, that was completely uncalled for on the man’s part. He knew her tolerance.

Nevertheless, she needed to get ready for work. A hangover wasn’t enough to heed the workings of the bakery.

She took the pills, and threw off her covers, walking over to her counter to take out one of the cinnamon rolls, taking a big bite to curb her hunger pains. After taking a moment to compose herself, she got ready for work. If she was late, she knew the owners would be forgiving, but she still felt bad regardless. She was going to walk in looking like a complete disaster.

As she headed out her door that morning, she stumbled on something sitting right at the foot of her doorstep on the welcome mat. Resting there, in a tiny little ceramic pot, stood a bonsai tree, trimmed and cared for perfectly. Her eyes scanned the area for who could have set it there, but met only empty space.

Hesitantly, she picked it up and brought it into her home. There was no note attached, nothing to signal who’d given it to her. Just a little tree that she would put on her window sill. It was strange, she had to admit that, to receive an anonymous gift at such an hour. She’d have to ask her friends about it later on to see if one of them had given it to her, for reasons she didn’t know.

But as the days went by, and those days turned into weeks, she continued to receive gifts every few days. More tiny trees in pots, sometimes flowers in little glass vases. None of them at first had anything attached until the most recent piece which when she picked it up to take into her home, a folded piece of paper sat beneath the vase. She made sure to pick it and put it in her apron to read on her break when she went to work. She didn’t have the time when she woke up only about 20 minutes before she was due at her job.

She was more than grateful for the little garden she was accumulating on her window sill, the beautiful flowers and trees somehow surviving despite her little knowledge of taking care of them. She stopped by a flower store in town to get some fertilizer just to keep them alive. It would be a shame if they died since someone was being so kind as to give them to her.

With her boring life, the flowers brought a smile to her face and a warmth in her heart that she hadn’t felt before. Regardless of who was leaving the items there, she felt like she was important to someone. Some person was taking time out of their day to show they cared about her.

Truthfully, she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t wished it was Yamato leaving her gifts. She’d been attracted to the man for quite some time, ever since they met really. He was just so strong and brave, and awkward in a cute kind of way. He was truly the only man of her affections, and she could only dream she was the object of his as well.

It was more than unlikely though. He was a strong ninja of the leaf. The chances of someone that amazing wanting to be with someone as simple as the town baker were lower than she wanted to admit. He most likely had his eyes set on some gorgeous kunoichi like Shizune or Kurenai. Someone he could relate to, really.

It was embarrassing to even admit she had a crush on him. It made her feel so tiny and weak, knowing that she wasn’t his ideal.

So she pushed that thought from her mind. Yamato would never be interested in her, and he most certainly not the one leaving her little notes and plants.

What she did know was that this person was a shinobi. Maybe not Yamato, but they were definitely a shinobi. She set up a trap, at least one she thought a normal person would fall for. Right before her door, she set up a tiny trip wire made of floss at the perfect level for someone to pull loose when they walked up to leave a gift on her welcome mat. Her room was at the very end of the hallway, so there was no way anyone else except her secret admirer was the one to set off the trap. Any normal person without the high perception of a shinobi would set off the trap and she would be able to narrow down the results to a civilian.

Only, the morning after she set up the trip wire, when she opened her door, there sat another bouquet of flowers, as well as an untripped strip of floss.

This person had to be a shinobi. She concluded. It was the only explanation in her mind, desperate to find out who the mystery person was all this time.

As she walked the streets that afternoon after the store had closed, her eyes honed in on Yamato, who stood next to a vegetable stand picking up some groceries. Immediately, she turned on her heel and cornered him between the squash and the sweet potatoes.

“Yamato, I need to talk to you. It’s urgent. Do you mind?” she practically demanded, and his eyes widened. He did not expect such an abrupt conversation between them. He shifted awkwardly to rest his grocery bag in the crook of his elbow and lean on his left side, arms crossed over his chest.

He knew what she wanted to talk about. It was about those gifts that he had been giving her. It was just a matter of whether she had figured out it was him or not, that was the question. He was kinda hoping she didn’t know yet. He was not ready to face what came after the reveal, rejection or otherwise. He really hadn’t thought it that far out yet. How could he. Just thinking up love notes and what plants to give her next was more than enough to worry about.

But damn, when he looked down at her, hair dusted with flour from a days work, a smudge of cake batter still on her forearm, apron a complete mess, he wanted to cave and tell her everything. She was just so beautiful, so clumsily perfect he couldn’t help but lose his train of thought. He swore he’d never seen a woman more perfect than her, not even Naruto’s sexy jutsu could come close to this girl.

He found his ears heating up and no doubt turning red at the thoughts running through his mind, and he was quick to smother them down. He was not irrationally emotional. Hell, he was ANBU, he should be able to control his emotions down to a tee.

“Yes, Y/N?”

“I have a secret admirer, and I know they are a shinobi.”

He felt himself growing nervous. How had she deduced that? “Ah, that’s definitely exciting for you. How do you know it’s a shinobi?”

“I know because I set up a tripwire last night and the person didn’t set it off, so I know they are coordinated enough to avoid it. This isn’t just some random village boy. This is someone skilled.”

“Y/N, he could have very well just avoided the trap with his natural gait, don’t you think?” he tried to reason with her, try to get her off his trail. Admittedly, he thought she was quite clever for setting up the trap. When he walked over it the night before, he swore it was just a spider web. He didn’t even consider the possibility of a trap in his way.

If only he could throw her off his scent. He needed more time. He couldn’t confess to her now. It was too abrupt, too sudden. He would probably die.

“No, I’m convinced it’s a shinobi.”

Shit. “Well, what are you going to do now?”

She thought for a short moment on what she was going to say, tapping her foot on the ground beside her. Her eyes widened and she smiled at the thought that ran through her mind. Of course, it was so obvious. “The gifts come sporadically, so I know that the shinobi can’t leave gifts when they are on missions. Next time there is a long break in gifts, I will just ask around to figure out who has been on a mission for a while. Bam, I’ve got my answer. It’s foolproof.”

She really had thought this through more than him. She was too good, and he felt himself panicking. He had a weeklong mission in 3 days, and if she asked anyone, they would tell her it was him. He felt moisture gather up at his brow, and he internally cursed his situation. He had to find some way out of this mess without her figuring out it was him.

“Yeah, that could definitely work. I hope it all works out for you, Y/N,” he lied through his teeth.

“I know. I’m just smart like that, aren’t I?”

“You sure are,” he muttered, but honestly, he just wanted to go off and find Kakashi. He needed to talk to him. His eyes slid away from Y/N and he sighed. “I’ve got to go, but I’ll see you around, yeah?”

“Yeah, of course. Don’t forget to stop by before your next mission to get some of our special food pills, okay? I just made a new batch and you can try them free of charge. Anything for a fella as handsome as yourself.” She laughed, shifting her weight to press a hand to her hip.

Jeez. There was no good reason for her looking so adorable. Calling him handsome as well? It was all too much for his heart to handle. Needless to say, he felt like he was going to explode if he didn’t walk away right then. With that, he simply nodded before patting her shoulder. “Like I said, gotta go.”

“Oh, okay. See you around.”

“See you.”

He walked away quickly, heading in the direction of Kakashi’s apartment, knowing he just had to do something about the mess he was currently in, and ways to avoid the inevitable. His heart was racing so fast he thought he might be having a heart attack. How could he be swayed so easily by a pretty face. He had no idea, but he really wanted it to stop. For the sake of his sanity, he needed to learn to be calm around her.

He would tell her soon, get all this off his chest and share his true feelings. He just needed a bit more time.

[megahwn]

Three Years Later

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x female reader

Genre: established relationship!au; hurt/comfort

Word Count: 2,482

Rating: 18+

Warnings: explicit language; cunnilingus; discussion of past sexual assault (no act is directly described, but please be cautious when reading)

Summary: You love being intimate with your boyfriend, and one act in particular is your absolute favorite thing. When he thinks to ask you why, you choose to finally confront a hidden truth about your past.

A/N: Written for @peonybane’s The Intimacy Anthology. Based on a true story.

“Yes, yes, yes, please don’t stop,” you beg, legs practically vibrating around your boyfriend’s back as he holds your hips down with his inhumanly strong arms. He doesn’t stop, choosing instead to lick into you even faster than before, making you cry out in unadulterated bliss. You’re soaked from his tongue on you and your own arousal leaving you all at once, and you can feel yourself approaching your end.

Just as Seokjin appears to be giving you some sort of reprieve by taking his tongue out of you, he immediately turns his attention to your clit, wrapping his plush lips around it and sucking hard. The pressure from his lips and his tongue working together on your bundle of nerves sends you headlong into an orgasm, warmth radiating from your belly to the tips of your fingers and toes. You try to regulate your breathing as Seokjin lifts himself off of you and comes to settle himself beside you on your bed, not even bothering to remove your wetness from his face.

“Go clean up,” you giggle at him for being so content with himself.

“But I don’t wanna,” he drags out, flopping down onto his back in mock petulance.

You shake your head at him fondly as he turns toward you once more, propping his head up with his hand.

“You have a perfect body, you know,” he states matter-of-factly.

“Shut up,” you retort, cheeks burning.

“I love eating it,” Seokjin continues anyway.

“Oh my God, shut up!” you squeak, hiding your face in your hands.

“Come on, don’t tell me you don’t love it too,” he says in sing-song.

“... You know it’s my favorite thing for you to do to me,” you manage to mumble through your hands, still unwilling to look at your boyfriend.

“Yeah, I know,” Seokjin says with his signature confidence. His voice then takes on a questioning tone when he says, “Why is that, anyway?”

In that moment, everything good about today - your dinner with Seokjin, the beautiful flowers he got you, the great orgasm he just gave you - is suddenly replaced by fear in your heart and a lump in your throat.

You take your hands away from your face. “Why what?” you ask, even though you already know what he means. You just hope you’re wrong.

Seokjin seems to be unaware of your inner turmoil. “Why do you like me going down on you more than anything else we do? I mean, I know I’m good at it, but I feel like that’s not it.”

You figured that someday your boyfriend might ask you why you loved being gone down on so much, but you didn’t think it would be today. Would this moment be where it all goes wrong?

“I don’t know if I can tell you,” you start slowly, cautiously. Seokjin notices your trepidation right away, and he immediately moves to sit up on the bed and face you directly, even as you continue to lay down next to him. “I’ve only told a few people.”

“Okay, this sounds… serious.” You can practically hear the wheels turning in Seokjin’s head as he tries to find the right words. “I didn’t expect your answer to be serious, so if you don’t want to talk about it, we definitely don’t have to.”

His response makes your heart do somersaults inside your chest. You love this man. How could you not, when he says things like that? His trust in you and his willingness to remain in the dark about something that clearly bothers you makes you want to scream and you just know that this is the right time, so you say it.

“I was assaulted.”

The words ring in your ears as they fill the space you and your boyfriend occupy. To this day, almost three years after the fact, they are still hard to say without taking you back to that place. They’re difficult words and you hate them most of the time, but it feels good to get them out.

You finally turn your head back toward your boyfriend, and as your eyes find his face you can see him quickly change his expression from one of shock to something much more neutral. His eyebrows are slightly furrowed and the corners of his mouth are turned down more than they usually are, though. He’s trying to be calm for you.

“Um, okay… Can I ask you what happened? Or is that overstepping some kind of boundary you don’t want crossed?” You can hear confusion in his voice, and something else that might be heartbreak.

You sigh audibly, turning back toward the ceiling and saying, “You can ask me. It’s okay.”

“Alright, then,” Seokjin says quietly. His thumb gently moves back and forth across your arm as he asks, “What happened?”

You take a breath, ready to begin your story, when a thought pops into your head that you can’t ignore.

“Before I talk to you about this, I want to make something clear,” you announce to no one in particular, still looking toward your bedroom ceiling. “I don’t want your pity. I’m tired of people feeling bad for me because of this, and it’s not what I want from you. It’s one of the reasons I didn’t tell you about this sooner. I don’t want pity, and I don’t want you to see me differently after I tell you this story. Okay?”

“Okay,” is all he says. He sounds sincere, like he really understands the seriousness of what you just asked of him. It soothes your nerves, if only slightly.

“God, this is still embarrassing to talk about.” You’re not sure why you lead with those words. It shouldn’t be embarrassing to talk about how you were violated. And yet, somehow, it just is.

“It’s okay, just tell me what you want me to know,” Seokjin says quietly. You can tell he’s trying to keep his voice steady. Guilt overtakes you at the thought of making him upset. So much guilt.

“Okay,” you say despite your shame. You take a deep breath, and then the words flood from you like a tidal wave.

“He was a friend’s brother. We used to flirt all the time in college, and we even ended up sexting a couple times.” You peek over at Seokjin, already expecting judgment like you had experienced with others to whom you had told your story. It doesn’t come this time, so you continue on.

“One day I was sad about something and he asked me to hang out, so I said yes because I wanted a distraction. We got some food and drove to the lake, and we were eating in his car when he basically asked me why we hadn’t fucked yet and said that we should. I was still sad so I didn’t want to, and he also didn’t have a condom with him so I really didn’t want to. I told him that but he just wouldn’t let it go.”

You take a moment to pause and collect your thoughts. At this point, you can’t bring yourself to look at Seokjin because you know what you’re about to say next.

“He brought up the fact that when we sexted in the past, I had said that we should fuck. I started to feel guilty about not being into it. I felt like I owed it to him because of what I had said in the past. He was still complaining about the fact that I wouldn’t fuck him, and I was still refusing, so eventually he goes, ‘At least let me eat you out.’ At that point I just wanted to go home, and I was still feeling guilty about not wanting to have sex with him, so I said okay. He went down on me right there, in the middle of the woods. He was kneeling in front of the open passenger door of his car on a towel so he wouldn’t get his knees dirty. I was laying across the seat and the center console, and I still remember how uncomfortable it was. When he stopped, I looked up, thinking it was finally over, but he was getting closer to me, dick in his hand. I instinctively closed my legs and said, ‘What are you doing?’ He pushed my legs back open, told me to relax, and then he raped me.”

You feel raw, open. Your blood is pounding in your ears and you don’t think you’ve ever felt so exposed. Seokjin hasn’t said anything yet, which is fine (totally fine), and just as you begin to let inklings of doubt and regret into your brain -

“Thank you for trusting me with this. I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

Throughout your retelling of your assault, you didn’t shed a tear. In fact, you barely stopped to take a breath, just wanting it to be out there so you wouldn’t have to say anything else about it. It’s only when you hear those gentle words come out of your boyfriend’s mouth that your eyes start to water.

“Yeah,” you say, feeling small. “Me too.”

“Can I hug you?” he asks, still gentle. He knows how much you love it when he asks before touching you. Now he knows why.

“Yes,” you say, finally letting the tears fall from your eyes.

You hear shuffling sounds, then Seokjin is laying next to you once more, and he scoots over so his body is flush with yours. He throws an arm and a leg over your body and places his head in your neck. You immediately feel wetness on your shoulder, and you realize that Seokjin is crying too.

You lay there for a while, letting the weight of Seokjin’s limbs on your torso and the feel of his breath on your neck ground you into the present moment. Whenever you discuss your assault with anyone, you tend to go back to that place for a while and relive every feeling, every smell, every touch of your rapist’s hands on your body. It really takes a toll on you, as much as you hate to admit it.

What you hate the most about discussing (or even thinking about) your assault, though, is the immense amount of guilt you feel. Guilt that you led your rapist on, guilt that you didn’t want to have sex with him, guilt that you eventually gave in, guilt that you didn’t fight back.

“I feel like it’s my fault sometimes,” you manage to get out much more calmly than how it sounded in your head. You’re playing with Seokjin’s hair as he continues to lay beside you, sniffling slightly in attempts to stop himself from crying.

Seokjin takes in a shaky-sounding breath and lets it out slowly. “Do you want to talk about that?” he asks you as he gives your body a quick squeeze. He does that when he wants you to know you’re safe.

Usually people are quick to reassure you that, no, your rape was not your fault. The thing is, though, that you know that already. You are well-aware that the only person at fault in your rape was your rapist. No one else. So the fact that Seokjin simply asked if you would like to talk about your feelings of guilt, rather than trying to assuage those feelings without letting you speak your mind, is a really big deal to you. You just didn’t know it was a big deal until now.

You let out a small, pathetic sounding, “Yes.” Your throat feels so tight with emotion, you’re amazed you were even able to say anything at all. Seokjin gives you another squeeze.

“Okay,” he says after a beat, sounding much more composed than he did a few moments ago. He’s really trying to hold it together for you. “Let it out,” he continues, leaving you free to speak your mind.

It takes you a minute to collect your thoughts, but once you do, you’re able to get to the root of what plagues you. “I feel like I had a choice and I made the wrong one because I didn’t want him to be mad at me,” you say to the ceiling. “I could have kept saying ‘no’ but I just kind of gave up and let it happen to me.”

Your boyfriend lets out a “Huh,�� then immediately turns over in the bed and reaches for his phone. You would be offended, but you had already learned a long time ago that whenever you’re in the middle of a conversation and he does this, it’s because he wants to show you something that he thinks will be helpful.

“Aha, here it is,” he says triumphantly after a minute or two. He then turns the phone toward you so you can read the screen.

It’s an Instagram post. The orange picture is full of black and white text, and the title reads, Know “No.” You read through the post, slightly confused about what it has to do with what you’re talking about, when you read the last line.

“No” might look like five ‘No’s and eventually a ‘Yes.’

You read the line at least three times before it registers with you completely. You blink away fresh tears and return the phone to Seokjin’s waiting hand. You slowly turn to face him for the first time in a while, completely overwhelmed by how much you love him.

“You said no,” he simply states. “Giving in after saying no isn’t consent.”

You sigh out, moving to place your head under Seokjin’s chin. That was exactly what you needed. He always manages to give you exactly what you need.

You clear your throat for what feels like the thousandth time in the last ten minutes, and then you circle back to finally answer Seokjin’s original question.

“I hope this isn’t weird for you now, but that’s why I like it so much when you go down on me. It’s the fact that you love me and would never hurt me like he did. It’s the fact that every time you do it, I heal a little bit more.”

Before Seokjin has a chance to question you, you continue your monologue. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think about the assault every time you do it, but when I do have flashbacks I’m able to get through them just by thinking about how much you care for me and how much you respect me and my boundaries. I know that if I ever told you “no,” you would stop right then and there. I’m really, really grateful for that. And for you.”

Seokjin gives you a third squeeze. He’s right. You are safe with him. You feel him give a kiss to the crown of your head, and then you both drift off to sleep.

[polar534]

Hockey Injury Pt 3

So Amity has a scar from the surgery. It's a messy diagonal raised mark that runs from her left collarbone to the center of her chest.

I headcannon that Amity already has body image issues. She can't really see her body as her own. Since her mother forced her to dye her hair for so long, she just grew up never allowing herself to maintain an image SHE wanted.

I imagine she loves her scar.

It's something that didn't come from her parents. Something that she gained by making her own decisions. Something that couldn't just and wouldn't be taken away from her either.

Luz doesn't like the scar.

It makes her uncomfortable. Not because it looks bad, heck, I imagine Luz would kill to have a badass mark like that. But it's more the memory. The idea that Amity was hurt... and is now permanently going to be hurt. It was a time Luz almost lost her, and it's always going to be there.

She wanted to keep Amity safe and that scar is a reminder of her failure. But of course it's Luz so she can't really express why it makes her uncomfortable nor would she air that out loud and risk upsetting Amity.

Amity knows her girlfriend though.

She can tell something is wrong. The way Luz's eyes linger just a little longer on her chest before she turns away in a panic and immediately tries to change the subject of whatever they had been discussing.

Amity starts questioning the new confidence she found in her scar. Maybe it's something too ugly that Luz wouldn't want on her.

She approaches Luz about it one night, after yet another time she sees Luz stiffen as she catches a glimpse of the mark on her chest.

They end up talking through their opposing views. Luz was absolutely horrified that Amity would be so concerned with how Luz wanted her to look. It hurt even more thinking she made Amity feel guilty about finally liking something about her appearance.

She rushes to correct Amity, that it was never how the scar looked, it was... it was why there was a mark to begin with. It was the memory behind it. Luz can't separate it from a time where Amity got really hurt.

And she couldn't do anything about it.

Couldn't protect Amity.

I imagine it leads to a nice healing conversation for the both of them. Luz loves the idea that the scar gives Amity confidence and security in her body and Amity convincing Luz that it wasn't Luz doing nothing. She's done everything. Got her into a much healthier home environment, found and encouraged her to try hockey, everything that makes Amity so happy right now is because of Luz. If it comes with a scar, so what? Azura had scars. She wore them proud.

This of course leads to adorable baggy shirt cuddles in which Luz just runs her finger up and down the scar while occasionally looking up at Amity and grinning, telling her it looks extremely badass.

***

Some general post surgery care stuff:

Amity really only let Luz dote on her after the surgery. Not because she needed or wanted it, but because she saw how broken Luz had been immediately following and knows it made Luz feel better to do something.

I also imagine it does start to get to Amity after awhile though. Amity is a jock at heart, she needs and wants to be doing something at all times and Luz... SPOILS her. She's never mad at Luz or even really frustrated. Just overwhelmed. She much prefers it when Luz calms down and stops offering her everything and just snuggles with her and they watch some TV show together.

And she has no problems just stoping Luz mid-spoil-buzz to calmly say:

"Luz?"

"Yes?"

"Get over here."

Before immediately pulling her girlfriend down into her arms for a cuddle and for some quiet.

She's much more frustrated and stubborn about the babying the first few days for sure because she was BOMBARDED with people visiting her. She nearly got up *despite being almost completely bedridden*  and THREW her siblings out the room one day when they just wouldn't leave her alone. Luz had to step in and drag them out before Amity made a knife out of her pen to stab them both.

That's why she really appreciates King staying with her during the day when everyone is at work or school. He doesn't constantly ask her if she needs anything or how she's feeling. Instead they both just chill out and read/watch videos on YouTube. And complain. They love to have their little bitch-fests about things that are bothering them. Amity may be a little softer around the edges now, but she still gets very frustrated. So she really values the safe space she has in King to vent because he, being the little guy he is, also has alot of frustration that builds up that no one takes him seriously on. They bounce back and forth off of each other until they both feel better.

But in essence all of that ordeal with Amity's healing is really what helps Luz flip from the negative: "This scar is a reminder of a time I *couldn't* be there for her." to, "This scar is the reason I got to fully take care of Amity for weeks without her getting to complain or fight me on it. Also... all the snuggles and time I got to spend with her."

[avengersassemble-fics]

Stark’s Girl

part 03/015 “i'll remind you of that everyday”

masterlist

previous part // next part

word count 3.9k

an: yes hello! this part is important for a certain relationship :) but I won't say which one to force you to read it lol I do feel like this part falls to that “gotta have a fill in part before the next important thing happens” but it’s still cute

Tony Stark has been looking forward to this day for the last 6 weeks. A whole 45 days have passed once you were discovered, since you started your reconditioning, and today he was finally looking at the chance to get you out of this place. He had the whole next week planned: you’d come back with him to New York and he would get you all settled into your own place in the Avengers Tower, and let you readjust to life in the city. Then, he would put out the idea of you going with him to help finalize the details of the facility he was working on just north from there, and from there he would just get to spend some quality time with his sister away from the watchful eye of SHIELD.

It was overbearing for him to have to sit there with you and be watched but you had handled those situations calmly. You were a lot more relaxed then he was, even going as far as to comment on it to him. Sure, you were joking around, which he found amusing, but they didn’t find it that much so. They told him that “those kinds of comments are cynical and harmful to the healing process.”

But they wouldn’t ever understand. It was a Stark thing. The demeaning sense of humor was like a coping mechanism for them. But you were just funny all around.

When they had given you what looked to be inedible food, you pushed it around with your fork and mumbled, “Being held captive by Hydra for that many years they at least never handed me a pile of trash to eat.” Tony had to cough into his napkin from laughter, and snuck you in a fattening hamburger the same night, and you both discussed the times your father bribed you both (especially you) with those kiddie meals from your favorite diner in hopes of not spilling to your mother of all his late work nights if she was traveling.

Another time was when it was Tony, you, and Steve, whom he had asked for his help on assessing your physical “attributes”. He watched as you were able to hold your own against him, until the last moment and Steve had you pinned against the ground, “My dad never told me you were so aggressive with women, Steve, but I can see the appeal,” to which Steve had loosened his grip on you and you’d flip him in a matter of second, “he did tell me that you were often intimidated by women. Guess that was right.” Tony had a shit eating grin that day, while Steve disappeared for the next few hours. You, on the other hand, didn’t even seem to be phased by his disappearance. But what Tony didn’t know about were the nights he wasn’t with you, Steve was.

That night in particular he had joined you with his laptop, as per usual, and the latest addition to his bucket list. You were slowly working your way through the Star Wars saga, even though you remember the original movies when you were younger, the details of them were lost to you. So you had eagerly sat up when the door opened, making room for Steve to sit with you on your bed. He didn’t mention the occurrence earlier in the day, and you didn’t either. Really, what could he say? You bested him with your words. He wasn’t upset about it.

That night, while watching The Empire Strikes Back, he got to see you in a new light. He watched you from the corner of his eye be completely immersed in this situation. Relaxed.

You.

It was a month since they had found you. And in that month Steve had learned a number of things. He learned that you were funny, you definitely shared that trait with Tony (although he would never admit that to him). He learned that when you were quiet you were actually analyzing the people around you, learning. You were smart and cunning, another thing you shared with Tony. He also learned that you don’t show your fear to others, not unless you trust them. At times, he felt you acted differently around Tony, and then around himself compared to others. Expected, yes, but he was . . . flattered in a way that you trusted him like that. But, on the other hand, you didn’t trust him as much as you trusted Tony. However, the nights where you two would spend alone time, it felt refreshing for him.

That night in particular, when the credits began to roll, he had never seen you react in the way you did. You had shot up from the bed, and had your hands rested on the side of your cheeks, mumbling to yourself, “Как они придумали это? Его отец? Джедай? (How did they come up with this? His father? A Jedi?)”

Steve chuckled to himself, and you shot him a daring glare, “Don’t laugh at me.”

“You didn’t see it coming?” He asked, to which you shook your head, and he laughed a bit to himself, closing his laptop. Something crossed your face, causing your brow to narrow and frown at him.

“So soon?”

Was that sadness he heard wrapped in your voice? He had tried to ignore it but it crossed his mind a number of times after that.

But today, Steve was looking forward to getting off this base once and for all. He was sitting in the meeting room, a number of SHIELD doctors entering, before Tony burst into the room, clapping his hands.

“Alright ladies and gentleman, let’s get this show on the road,” he greeted, earning not much of a response from the other agents, so he beelined for Steve. Tony sat next to him, resting an arm on the table and facing his companion.

“I’ve been looking forward to this day for the last 6 weeks,” Tony commented, and Steve crossed his arms over his chest, offering a nod.

“I’m sure you have, Tony.”

“Are you coming back to New York?” Tony asked, pulling a phone out from his jacket pocket. Steve shrugged his shoulders.

“Not sure, it’s time I got back to searching for Bucky,” he replied, earning a nod from Tony as he scrolled on his phone, typing every once in a while.

“Well thank you for these last few weeks,” he looked up from his phone, and smiled that toothy grin at him, “I needed someone here with me to help with her.”

“Of course, Tony,” he nodded, “how do you plan on introducing Pepper and her?”

“Carefully,” he sighed, sitting back in his chair, “Pep is in California right now, so it’ll give her a few days to settle in-”

As he was finishing his thought, the door opened up. Both men stood, as one shorter female agent entered, and followed shortly behind her was the new director (resurrected, or never really dead, that was classified). Phil Coulson looked just about the same, maybe a year or two older than the last time they saw him.

“Good morning everyone,” he greeted offering a kind smile as he pulled out the chair at the head of the table, “let’s get on with it shall we? Let’s start with the final evaluation.”

One of the doctors nodded and Coulson, Tony, and Steve all sat in their respective seats. The doctor opened up their file and cleared her throat.

“After careful evaluation, we’ve determined that Ms. Stark isn’t completely ready to be reintroduced to society.” Tony’s jaw dropped, and before he could interject she continued, “Over the last six weeks we have learned some things, but there is still much we aren’t aware of. She declines to share explicit details of her experience. When pressed further she goes silent and won’t speak further unless Mr. Stark or Captain Rogers are present, and even at that point in time, it’s casual. Not informative.

As far as physical evaluations, she appears to be completely healthy. Capable. The training she has and the little information we have determines she was trained similarly to the likes of Natasha Romanoff and—“ she paused to glance at Steve and then back to Coulson, ignoring Tony’s ever growing anger, “—and James Barnes. She’s proven to be able to hold her own against Captain Rogers. She could be dangerous if pushed too far.”

Tony saw his chance to interject, “This is such horseshit.” He motioned over to the doctors sitting across from him before his hand landed on the table. “We have done everything you’ve asked and you only spring up your concern now?”

“We have expressed our concern, but you have elected to ignore those--”

“Elected to ignore,” he mimicked and looked to Coulson. “The only thing they’ve complained about is how her humor is detrimental to the healing process, like they don’t know how I’ve coped in the past-”

“Tony,” Steve tried to cut in, but Tony kept going. This time, he stood, pointing at all of them.

“She was just a little girl, and you see her ways of coping as harmful when in reality, anyone can see that she is trying to hold onto that shred of childhood memory that she has left.” Steve knew better than to interrupt him, but one of the agents behind him didn’t. After trying to place a hand on Tony’s shoulder, Tony ripped his arm from his grip.

“She doesn’t belong here. Locked up and being ‘evaluated’. She needs to go somewhere where she can feel safe, and-and comfortable, you assholes are trying to take that--”

“That’s enough, Mr. Stark,” Coulson finally said out loud. Tony's attention went to him, as his chest heaved. “Please. Sit down.”

Tony looked back around the table before his eyes landed on Steve, who offered him a friendly nod to the chair he had shot out of. Tony grumbled something beneath his breath, and sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. Coulson leaned forward, his fingers lacing together on the table.

“I see the concern that they have,” he started and shot a warning look at Tony before he could interject. “I’ve gone over it myself. She is very skilled, and in some ways we didn’t get a chance to learn. But, Tony, you’re absolutely right. She won’t get any better if she stays here.”

“Sir--” one of the doctors tried to interrupt, but Coulson ignored them.

“I’m allowing her departure, with the agreement that you,” he said, pointing at Tony, “will be keeping a watchful eye on her while she is in your care. You can go wherever you want, do whatever you want, but she is your responsibility.”

“Thank you, Coulson-” Tony said before being cut off.

“I’m not finished,” Coulson said, and Tony nodded eagerly. His finger went to Steve’s direction, “I’m also allowing her care to fall upon you, Captain.”

“Sir?” Steve questioned.

“In the instance that Tony cannot be with her, I’m allowing you to be a responsible party. I need it to be understood where you go, she goes too.”

Steve was quiet, processing the plate practically pushed in front of him. Tony nearly whipped around in his chair to look at him, his eyes looking for some kind of answer on Steve’s face. Steve looked up from his hands, and at his friend. His mind trailed off to you, and that sad look you had given him the last night you spent time together. He offered a nod to Tony, who grinned and looked back to Coulson.

“Of course. We understand.”

----------

You had seen the pictures, you had pictured it in your mind but seeing it in front of you was like an out of body experience.

When Tony came to you in that room, leaving the door open for you, you felt a wave of happiness wash over your body. He smiled at you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders and placed a kiss to the side of your head. And you left. And you never looked back.

But in this moment, as Tony allowed you to unbuckle yourself and come to the front of the Quinjet (they called it that) to look out the front window, you were surprised. You held onto the back of his chair as the Avengers Tower stood high above the other building on the skyline. The sheer size made you mumble a wow beneath your breath, but he heard you and tossed a glance up at you. The kiddish amazement in your eyes made his heart soften. Tony carefully slowed the speed of the Quinjet before edging closer to the large platform on the building, and you steadied yourself as he brought the ship to a stop. On the platform, Steve Rogers awaited.

Tony took the time to flip switches off, and the back ramp opened, and you were eager to step out of the metal ship. Steve stood with his hands in his pockets, squinting against the blaring sunlight, but still offered you a smile.

“I hope Tony’s flying wasn’t too much to handle,” he called through the air. You shrugged your shoulders, and smiled back at him.

“I’ve experienced worse,” you responded back. You walked around the aircraft and looked out to the skyline before you. The edge of the platform had no end, and if someone wasn’t careful enough or paying attention, they were sure to fall right off. But you took steps closer and closer to the edge, mesmerized by the colors reflecting off the buildings of New York. It was a beautiful view. Your thoughts were cut short when a hand grabbed your arm, not too tightly, and you looked back at your capturer.

Tony looked at you with a hint of worry in his eyes, and you sighed, “Tony I’m just looking at the view.”

“I know,” he released your arm, and your eyes glanced between him and Steve who had followed around, “I know I just--”

“You’re just worried about me, yes, I understand.”

He didn’t reply but motioned back towards the looming modern building, and you felt as if you had to force yourself to walk past him and towards the glass doors that opened as you stepped closer. Steve joined beside Tony, both men walking behind you as you entered the building, the cool air conditioning hit your arms and you wrapped your arms in one another, looking around the room.

Tony had a very easy sense of design. Simple, modern, and mostly clean. It was appealing, but there wasn’t much sense of home here. You let him give you a tour around the place, before he showed you to your room. ‘Room’ was an understatement though, it was like having your own little apartment in this extravagant building. You sat on the bed when the two men were about to leave the room, before Tony spun around.

“Oh I almost forgot,” he spun around and clapped his hands, “I almost forgot to tell you about JARVIS.”

“JARVIS..?” you drawled out, and a voice rang into the room.

“Yes, ma’am that’s correct. I run most of the systems in this building,” the male voice said and you shot up from the bed, looking around.

“JARVIS is an intelligence system I created, over the years he’s been developed to run operations at Stark Industries, and now here,” he said. Tony moved his arms around to motion the building. “If you need anything, just ask him.”

You nodded slowly as he spoke, and settled back onto the bed. “Okay..”

Tony offered a small smile. “I’ll let you rest a bit, give you some privacy. I’m sure you miss that.”

“I did, yeah,” you replied. “Thank you, Tony.”

“Anything for you.”

But you never left your room. You never came back to the common area, or kitchen for dinner. The sun set, the moon rose, and Tony hadn’t seen you since he left you in your room. Of course, the only thing he asked of JARVIS was if you were okay.

“She’s fine, sir, just resting.”

He went to his room that night and couldn’t fall asleep for the life of him. The only sense of comfort he got was when Pepper answered his call, and her face filled his room.

“How’s it going?” she asked and he sighed, running a hand over his face.

“I don’t know. We got here and she’s been in her room ever since.”

Pepper’s eyes crinkled a bit at the side, and she nodded her head. “She just needs time, Tony, that’s all it is. She’s alone for the first time in years, that solitude sometimes it’s comforting.”

She wasn’t wrong.

You fell asleep shortly after Tony left you. You rested against a pile of pillows and pulled the blanket up to your shoulders, and slowly fell asleep while staring at a wall. When you woke up, darkness surrounded you, and you rolled onto your back. The lamp beside you came on and you rubbed one of your eyes. You blinked a couple times and furrowed your brows.

“What time is it?” you tested.

“It’s 11:06 PM,” JARVIS’ voice said. You sat up in your bed, and moved your legs off the side of the bed.

“Could you.. Could you show me the way to the kitchen?”

“Of course,” he said and you stood from the bed and moved to the door of your room. You pulled the door open and a small blue light on the wall was in front of you, and moved to your right. You followed, your bare feet quiet against the floor as you stepped along. You crossed your arms over your chest as you followed the blue light and it stopped at the elevator. You pressed the button and the doors opened up for you, and you entered. It moved on its own and you cleared your throat when it opened back up for you to exit.

The common area was larger than your room, but the kitchen was evident. You mumbled a thanks and quickly walked over to the fridge you could see and pulled the door open, grabbing a bottle of water. You practically tore the lid open and chugged half the bottle, walking back to the open living area. When you closed the bottle again, letting out a satisfied “ah” sound your eyes landed on the large TV screen on the wall.

You took a couple steps forward and the light in the room came on automatically. You sat down on the soft couch, and rested your arms on your legs.

“JARVIS?” you called out quietly.

“I’m here,” his voice said.

“Do you have any . . . personal videos of my family?”

He was quiet for a few seconds, and a part of you hoped he would say no, but that wasn’t the case.

“Yes, there is a number of footage I’ve found.” He paused as you sighed. “Would you like me to play it?”

“Yes,” you answered. The TV turned on and you set the bottle of water down on the coffee table and sat back on the couch, bringing your knees up to your chest.

Shaky, grainy footage started to play. The clicking of a camera sound was evident, and at first all you could see were feet. You furrowed your brows until the camera came up more, and there was Tony. His arm stretched out before him and he smiled at the camera.

“Dad didn’t see the point in filming,” his young voice echoed in the room, and he swung the camera around until your parents were visible, “but I think it’s important to film this.”

“Tony,” Howard warned, looking exceptionally disheveled as he was bouncing around a baby. You.

“Only a few weeks old and already taking your toll on dad, I gotta give her props,” Tony said again. A kissing sound came from close to the mic, and then Maria appeared.

“Tony, please, why don't you come and try feeding her?” her voice said, sweetness laced in it. The camera fumbled a bit, and the image cut out. You smiled, but the next one started almost immediately.

Happy birthdays filled the room you were in, and there in a high chair was you, already grabbing at the cake that was placed in front of you. Tony was beside you this time, not behind the camera. He was laughing as you smeared the cake around, flinging a small piece onto his cheek. The camera moved to show Maria, hurrying over to clean the mess, and a chuckle coming behind the camera.

“We’ve got a fiesty one on our hands, Maria,” his voice said playfully. She shot him a glare, and the feed cut out again.

This time, the next image was clearer and more colorful. Your face filled the screen, water surrounding you and your hair wet and glowing in the sun.

“And here we have the talented, undeniably prettiest girl in the world, little miss (Y/N),” as Tony spoke you swam backwards, giggling, “wanting to show off her handstand skills to mom and dad dearest.”

The camera swung around to show Howard and Maria, standing under a patio, and Tony zoomed in on their faces. You shook your head.

“Stop,” you whispered, and the footage stopped. At some point your eyes had watered, and a tear slid down your cheek. Your eyes were focused on the crystal clear image of your parents, alive, and looking on at their children happily. Another tear fell at the thought and you let it. You let the tears fall even when someone came over next to you and sat beside you.

They didn’t say anything, but just looked at what was on the TV. You rested your chin on your knee, staring ahead.

“Everything I told you I really do remember,” you whispered, “but there’s not a lot I recall, and everyday I feel like I remember them less and less.”

You shook your head and a tear slid down your cheek. “I can’t remember their faces without seeing a photo or--or this . . . Tony, I don’t want to forget.”

You were looking at him now, the tears on your face highlighted by the glow from the TV. Tony brought his hand up to your cheek and wiped away a tear, his hand resting there and you leaned into his palm. “You won’t forget them, you won’t,” he repeated.

His other hand went to your other cheek, cupping your face in his hands. “You won’t ever forget how much they loved you, the joy you brought to their lives--to mine.” He paused and smiled sadly at you. “And I’ll remind you of that everyday if I have to.”

You nodded a bit as he spoke, and he brought you closer to him, placing a kiss to the top of your head. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his chest, and nestled yourself into his side as one of his arms wrapped around your shoulders. You were curled into him, and he rubbed your shoulder slowly.

Neither of you said anything for the rest of the night. Tony held you until he could hear the even breaths leave your body, and he knew you were asleep. But he didn’t move. He stayed there and rubbed your shoulder until he fell asleep too, his head falling backwards against the couch.

----------

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[aphspain-pure]

Back to de past, right to the future [Chap. I]

Category: Fanfic. 

Pair: EngSpa, UkSpa. 

Words: 2.611.

Genre(s): drama, historical, yaoi. 

Abstract: England feels some magical disturbance in the air that morning. How could he have imagined that it was caused by his own self, but some centuries ago. 

Pirate England suddendly appears in the Modern Era. 

________________

When he opened his eyes, England could not focus well. 

It was dark and cold, but the tremendous and familiar humidity of his cabin or any of the parts of his ship was not noticeable. Nor could he feel the typical rocking of the waves of the high seas, so he deduced that, God knows why, he was not in his boat.

He scrambled to his feet and took a quick look around him in dismay. He was in complete darkness but, thanks to the patch over his left eye, he was quickly able to get used to the lack of light. Only then he did recognize the place.

This was his magic room, where since Viking occupation times he had conjured his spells and his miracles. It was cloudy, dark and penetrating as always. There was nothing out of place except for him, who couldn't bring himself to remember how in the hell he had gotten there. He did not remember even having arrived at port, even having approached Great Britain. The last thing he remembered was being on his ship, somewhere between the Caribbean and the West Indies, and he couldn't figure out how or when he ended up there.

Grunting in disagreement, with a hangover of a thousand horrors, he decided to leave the questions unanswered for later and get up, dusting himself off, ready to go out and yell at the first servant who crossed his path. He didn't know what was going on but he didn't care, at least he wouldn't think about it until he'd had his first shot of whiskey or rum and kicked a couple of arse.

Or so he thought, unhinged, until he opened his special room’s door and took a look outside.

- What the bloody hell?

 ____________________________

In another part of London, England watched the energy in the air with a puzzled countenance, noticing slight arrhythmic disturbances in the wind while enjoying his famous breakfast tea. He was in a cozy old café from his Victorian era that still stood to this day and which England cherished with pure English love and courtesy. He had decided to have breakfast there, early, to arrive with plenty of time for the world conference that day. That was why he had left the house exceptionally early, even if he usually preferred to get up at a moderate hour and take it easy on homely mornings.

He sighed. He had once been a man of action.

Maybe America was right when he accused him of being a boring old curmudgeon.

He calmly finished his cup of tea, retrieved his coat from the courteous waiter who had stripped him of it earlier –a practice which, now almost extinct in modern times, England greatly appreciated-, thanked him and left. The day was cloudy and threateningly rainy in London, as usual.

Thus, once outside, he felt again that feeling of unease that had been attacking him for some time. A spiritual unrest, as if something bad was about to happen. Deciding not to become paranoid, he called his chauffeur to take him to the boardroom right in the center of Westminster.

 __________________________

He arrived early, and the only other nations besides himself already there were Germany, Switzerland, Netherlands, and Japan. The rest would still be in their respective hotels or even, if they had decided to fly from their countries that morning, on the plane or the airport. As far as he knew, France used to prefer the latter option when meetings were held at his place, preferring to spend as little time as possible on British soil. And England could not say that it did not understand or disapprove of it; moreover, he would resort to the same when the situation was the opposite.

He walked over, respectfully greeted the three blonde nations, and calmly placed himself next to Japan. His transoceanic friend gave him a slight bow of the head. - Ohayo gosaimasu, Igirisu-san. How has the sun risen today? –he commented, in an appropriate and neutral tone.

England appreciated the chivalricism. – It isn’t being one of my best days, but I cannot complain. Anyway, good morning to you too, Japan. –And the Japanese gave him a small and short smile.

After that all went silent, and the only thing that was heard for a few minutes was the chalk of Germany hitting the blackboard as he wrote down the important points of the day. Everyone knew that the meeting would probably end as usual, with nothing clear, with the United States laughing and claiming to be a hero every few seconds, the odd country asleep, hysterical discussions between itself and France and Russia trying to make people become one with him, but Germany still insisted on trying to create a serious atmosphere. Internally, England admired and appreciated his dedication, even if it didn't get real results in the end.

Eventually the rest of the countries began to arrive one by one. The feeling of discomfort and that something was wrong did not leave the guts of the host country, anyway.

There was something strange, even dangerous, floating in the atmosphere. His sharp, mint green eyes scanned every corner trying to find the source of the discomfort, unable to find anything. He had a pleasant conversation with Luxembourg when he arrived and later he chatted with Portugal a bit, all automatically while he went over everything. Each time the air was tighter from a supernatural point of view, as if the Disaster itself was drawing closer and closer.

It wasn't until Norway appeared in his field of vision that England paid any real attention to something. 

Usually they would do nothing but greet each other from afar with a minimal movement of the head. But if Norway had stood there, in front of him, it definitely meant something.

Getting to the point, the Nordic inquired. - What the hell is happening here? –With his frankness and usual calm voice.

England, sighing, crossed his arms and furrowed his thick eyebrows.

- It's been bothering me since this morning. I don't know what the hell it can be, but it's downright disturbing. It is… like a powerful presence but at the same time cloudy. And the strangest thing of all is that it looks strangely familiar to me.

- Yeah… -the other man agreed-. It's ... certainly familiar in some way. –Then he looked around-. And every time it seems to increase that energy. You haven't used magic again while drunk, have you? –And for a moment, England looked offended. At least before recalling the hundreds of times it had actually happened, after which he quietly apologized.

Trying to hide that he was somewhat ashamed of himself, he cleared his throat and muttered that he didn't remember conjuring anything lately. That definitely upset the Norwegian's stern gesture a bit.

- So this doesn't make sense.

A moment later the Italian brothers entered and Germany called the session off. He and Norway were forced to separate, but not before sending each other glances of beware of anything and nodding in agreement.

But in these, just as Germany was about to start with the first point of the day, the main gate that led to the huge boardroom was thrown open. 

And the most incredible thing happened.

- What the hell is going on here by gad!? –The sordid growl of the new presence broke in. They all immediately turned to look there and, simply petrified, England stood up, shocked, knocking the chair over.

In front of them stood an astonishing 17th century pirate captain, dressed in his grandiose red coat, his worn flat boots, his jeweled saber, his open ruffled shirt, the typical gold ear rings, the eye patch in the eye and the so characteristic captain's hat. His voice had been sordid and commanding and his eyes exuded the amusement and danger of a true saltwater buccaneer. Someone who, at least the European countries and some former colonies, recognized immediately. He licked his lips leisurely as he began to draw his sword.

- You're already singing if you don't want to die, you louts! What does this all mean? –And pointed the sword towards the large table full of perplexed countries.

The attention fell entirely on him, in a frozen moment of time, until someone else claimed it.

- What the bloody hell are you doing here!?

Then the newcomer pirate's eyes lifted until, surprised and interested, they rested on the emitter. He looked directly at England, dressed and mature, with an uneasy and confused smile. - I should ask you the same. What is this all supposed to be? –taking great strides and dangerously dancing his saber with that deranged look of his-. You better start spitting it all out if you don't want to taste my steel, you fucking bastard.

And England, still not fully recovered from his shock, tried to articulate something to calm the hotheaded just as the door opened a second time. This time, timidly and slowly.

- Eh… Hello? I'm sorry I'm late again, I've fallen asleep again haha… -from a newcomer Spain who nervously rubbed the back of his neck with an embarrassed gesture.

This intrusion impressively attracted the pirate’s attention. 

- You... –he blurted out, lifting the eyepatch to see perfectly with both eyes, as a wolfish grin stretched the corners of his lips and he screamed in exaltation-. On guard, you bastard!

And before Spain could even react, the subject came forward like a veritable bloodthirsty beast towards him. The ancient empire, instinctively, placed his body on guard against the imminent attack, which he would have been about to receive if it had not been for the sudden cry that devastated the room:

- SLEEP!

And the body of the said pirate man fell inert to the ground. England had conjured something to make him abruptly fall asleep. The boardroom was suddenly silent.

England and Spain looked at each other in shock.

- ...What the hell?

_____________________

 When pirate England emerged from the dark abyss of unconsciousness again, it appeared to be back at its home outside London. He blinked a few times as he growled and groaned at the post-spell pain in his tormented mind. He cursed the other England, the one from the future who had had such a naughty face, and tried to regain control of his body.

It was then that he was known prisoned. His arms were tied with a thick, scratchy rope to the back of the chair he was sitting on. He raised an eyebrow for a moment, really not very impressed, and later turned his gaze straight ahead.

The familiar face of his presumed captor managed to get an idle, amused smile from his lips.

- Scared that I might bite you, darling?

Which was quickly answered by a. – Dare to even suggest such a thing and I will hang you before you can take a step. –Which brought an even bigger smile and a greater sparkle in the other's eye.

There, sitting on the sofa, Spain was holding a rare article of paper with many hyper-realistic letters and images that he seemed to be reading carefully. But England knew better. He knew as the best what face this handsome jerk made when he was really focused, and the one he made when he tried to fake it. Catching Spain in the middle of that picaresque action seemed as charming as it was amusing, and he could not but fall into the temptation to frustrate him in his attempt.

- I do not know anything about the future, but just by seeing those whore's clothes that you bring, I think I would not mind being in your humble care a little more.

A vein was marked in Spain’s forehead who, honestly, had been years, decades…! With no real dislike for England. An insincere and tight smile showed his vain attempt at impassiveness. –This I am wearing is a simple "shirt", the type of garment that is worn today for formal meetings.

- Well, what a scandal, how immoral! With that tight-fitting blouse, I could see your nipples from nautical miles away. –To which, with a new vein marked, Spain jumped just at the time that contemporary England entered the room.

He carried with him a small silver tray with two porcelain mugs of Earl Grey and a few small butter cakes. His entrance surprised the other two. Immediately, however, Spain pointed at the captive and yelled at the newcomer. – Tell this uneducated you that neither my shirt is obscene nor am I a whore, now!

That sudden demand caught England off guard, whose first thought was to look directly at the named shirt, seeing, therefore, how the white fabric hugged and made the tanned skin transparent. He swallowed hard for a moment, which his other self took advantage of to act funny.

- From the familiar treatment that you two maintain I deduce that, very and at the same time not so much to my regret, in the future the Spanish Empire and I have that kind of intimate relationship. –Whistling at the sudden sight of a red and indignant England and an angry Spain-. In the bull’s eye, isn't it?

Making that this time, yes, Spain was so frustrated that he ended up pouncing on him.

The action awakened the green in the captive's eyes, amused to the core that he had finally made the future version of his rival lose his temper. Spain fell on him, a pair of strong hands and –although not as calloused as he himself remembered- still rough from the work in the fields surrounding his neck with accumulated resentment. 

He held back a smile.

- Ahh... I see that you are both quite rusted …

And, shocking Spain (who had still been trying to hang him), he broke free from his moorings and abruptly swapped positions.

England, from outside, watched in shock and without being able to speak as, in front of his eyes, his former self turned the tables and placed himself with the force of a beast above his current EU partner. Spain had fallen backwards and his hands had been forcibly captured on his head; he writhed like a sardine as he looked badly and –almost- growled at the one who just two seconds ago had been tied to a chair. Immobilizing his body, the pirate had mounted on him, leaving him unable to actuate any movement.

Looking indiscreet and almost with little concealed grimace, England glanced in the direction of present-day Britain. - Even a bastard child who has not seen more boobs in his life than his mother's would have loosened a knot that simple. –He growled, nodding at the untied rope lying on the ground. Making disgust, this time he directed his words to Spain under his grip-. Are you grossly underestimating me or are you so old that you have forgotten what you were capable of in the past...?

The three pairs of green eyes maintained that tense look for a few long seconds in which, little by little, the pirate began to change that tension for a deeper emotion. 

Darker and more penetrating eyes as they went down through the other's tanned build.  – Although I have to admit that this body is not that of an old man, no sir ... –taking the liberty of passing a hand from Spain’s chin to his tanned chest-. It's been a while since I saw this sinful skin so closely, I presume since 1588 …

And Spain’s eyes expanded in shock, while modern England’s nearly shook in bewilderment.

The apparition of Pirate Era England had opened something that had been buried centuries ago.

[bvckys-doll]

Freak the Freak out

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x mutant!reader (guest appearance by Alpine)

Word count: 2.2k

Summary: Never call a mutant a “freak”. You will regret it.

Warnings: 1% angst, mention of cock warming, a bit of language, Bucky being a cute boyfriend (if that’s a warning) so fluffy/pre-smut ending

Author’s note: Finally I can give you another Bucky one shot. Wrote all my exams and i’m waiting for the final results. Now i can focus on my writing again. So happy. Hope you like this! Reblog, comment, like! Love you! <3

You can find my main masterlist here! (because i’m too dumb to put a link in my bio)

Being a mutant has its perks but also its bad sides as well. Not every day is a good day but not every day is a bad day either. Over the years while (Y/N) lived with the Avengers in their huge headquarters, she had managed to get her forces under control to a large extent. Still, it was never a good idea to tease her. She would not describe herself as sensitive, but there were certain situations where she could not always hold herself back. Like that one time when some guy insulted Bucky in front of her, she almost killed him by accident. Luckily, her friends and her boyfriend stood by her side.

James could understand very well even though he didn't have a secret power to control except his strength. Still he knew how hard it was to control his feelings when it came to his family and friends. (Y/N) also spent a lot of time with Bruce since he mastered the art of controlling your own anger issues.

However, unfortunately, there were situations which could not always be avoided and none of the others knew that such a situation was imminent.

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

Violet Finegan was a beautiful and talented young woman but also the daughter of one of the biggest billionaires in the United States, Andrew Finegan, and the new protégé of the Avengers. After her father contacted Tony as they were old colleagues, Tony decided to help him after a very long and extensive discussion with Andrew. Apparently he had made a deal with a certain mob boss and that had put him in a very dangerous position and now he and his daughter Violet had a death threat on their hands.

It had already been two weeks since Violet had moved to the top floor and taken it up completely. Not that anyone was complaining, (*cough* (Y/N) *cough*), but the other members of the Avengers were used to sharing a floor with two others. Why would someone need so much space?

She even considered on bringing her entire household with her and it was annoying. (Y/N) tried to like her. She tried very hard but since Violet wanted everything she casted her eye on, she chose him. James Buchanan Barnes. Or like (Y/N) liked to him: her boyfriend.

From the first moment when Bucky shook her hand and Violet smiled at him a little too long, (Y/N) knew. She knew that girl would be big trouble.

Since her first day at the headquarters, Violet always tried to find an excuse to be alone with James. Sometimes she would ask for help even if Bucky couldn't help her in the slightest - like when it came to the modern technology.

But slowly but surely it was too much for (Y/N)'s liking.

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

“James is a really good listener, don't you think?“ Violet was leaning against the wide kitchen island while (Y/N) was about to make herself a cup of coffee. The young mutant had just taken a shower, her hair was still a little damp, after the long training session with Steve, Sam and Bucky down in the training area. (Y/N) was sure she would feel the blows for weeks.

For a short moment, (Y/N) let her eyes wander to Violet who apparently was trying to provoke her with her winning smile before (Y/N) replied with a charming smile on her lips “Well, i should know it. After all, he is my boyfriend, isn't he?“

“Are you really sure about that? The way he's been acting, I'd never assume he had you as his girlfriend.“ Violet chuckled and watched (Y/N)'s reaction carefully to plan her next step. She loved to drvie people crazy over and over again. She knew that she had an effect on men when they were around her and Violet loved it. Nothing gave the young lady more pleasure than that. Nevertheless, (Y/N) tried not to be upset and fished her favourite cup from the shelf, which Bucky had given her for Christmas last year. She took a deep breath and stared at the coffee machine to stay calm before reacting again to Violet's statement “Why? How is James acting?“

“Well...“ Violet began, still smiling and thinking before she went on “he's been pretty attentive the last two weeks i've been here. He always listens to me when I need help or comfort. After I had a nightmare the day before yesterday, he even came to my floor and made me a tea afterwards downstairs in the kitchen. He is such a gentlemen. I was even allowed to play with his cat. She's crazy about me.“

Exactly at the same moment the said cat came toddling into the kitchen around the corner. With one leap, Alpine jumped onto the kitchen island and stretched herself while Violet tried to stroke her fur. But before her fingers could even touch her snow-white fur, Alpine hissed at her briefly and reared up. Laughing, (Y/N) watched Violet as she retreated in horror and watched Alpine jump onto the other dresser and then nestle to (Y/N)'s side. Triumphantly (Y/N) stroked the little one through her white fur coat with a smile on her lips and tickled Alpine behind her ears which she loved above all else.

“Yes, I see it. Alpine seems to really love you.“ she laughed softly as Alpine curled up next to the warm coffee machine and dozed a little. (Y/N) could literally feel it seething in Violet when one of her first lies came to light before (Y/N) asked her “And when exactly was Bucky supposed to have been with you the other day? You know he was with me all night. I would have known if he'd left.“

“How do you know that? After all, he was the Winter Soldier for a reason. You never saw him come or go.“ Violet replied briskly as (Y/N) raised one eyebrow and answered with a smile “Let me put it this way, Bucky was busy with other things at the time. So when I say he was busy treating my pussy, I don't mean Alpine. I know it's really none of your business but James loves cock-warming and if I say I would have noticed it, then I mean it.“

Now Violet was completely speechless and her mouth was open. No one had ever talked to her like that before and she wouldn't take any shit from (Y/N).

“S-still, I wonder what James sees in you. Look at yourself. You're not even pretty. You're...just a freak like little Maximoff and her brother. You've caused us enough trouble for years. We'd all be better off without you anyway.“ Violet growled at her poisonously and glared at (Y/N) with her dark brown eyes.

All of a sudden a glass of water that stood next to Violet burst into a thousand little pieces. Violet cried out in panic when one of the splinters caught her arm. (Y/N) had clenched her hands into fists as Violet held her arm and whimpered softly. With a serious voice (Y/N) turned completely towards her while her eyes light up in a dark blue “No one calls my friends...freaks..“

Fearful Violet retreated towards the door when her gaze caught the scene outside. Through the wide glass facade she could watch as the sky slowly closed in and dark clouds gathered in the sky as a loud thunder could be heard. With eyes widened in fear, Violet's gaze shot back to (Y/N) who now slowly but surely came closer to her.

But before anything worse could happen, some of the other team members stormed into the kitchen. With wide eyes Bucky watched his girlfriend while her gaze was still fixed on Violet with blue glowing eyes. Immediately he went over to them and moved between the, so that (Y/N) turned her gaze to Bucky who calmy reached for her hands which were still clenched in fists.

„Easy, tiger. We don't wanna cause a commotion here.“ he stroked her arms briefly. That's when Bucky noticed how tense she was. Carefully, he put his hands on her cheeks and put his focus on her (y/e/c) eyes as her gaze kept wandering over to Violet. Gently he kissed the wrinkles that had formed between her eyebrows, noticing how she started to loosen up. Slowly he saw the darkness in her eyes dissolving and she calmed down as Bucky watched her and took her hands in his. Soothingly he stroked the back of her hand and kept eye contact with her as a tear rolled down her cheek.

“It's all right, baby doll. I'm right here. I got you. No one's gonna hurt you. We have everything under control.“ he whispered in a soothing voice as a sob came over her lips before (Y/N) buried her face in Bucky's chest and clawed her fingers into his shirt. Calmly he wrapped his arms around his girlfriend and kissed her forehead while Violet stood behind them, completely bewildered, not knowing what to say. In the end she was the one being attacked by (Y/N), not the other way around?!

“Miss Finegan? Come with me. We're taking you to Dr. Cho.“ she heard Steve's formal voice behind her and turned to him. Before she could say anything else, he added “We treat all people here with respect. No matter how different we may be. We are all equal here. Tony will see that you're placed elsewhere. Someone who insults or otherwise harms any part of our family has no place here.“

Violet looked at Cap in horror and tried to defend herself “But she started to att-“

“Just get out of here, Violet“ James interrupted her briskly and held (Y/N) in his arms who was holding onto him for dear life. He had to keep himself from getting angry. Without saying another word, Steve led Violet from the kitchen upstairs to Helen's office.

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

Later in the evening (Y/N) and Bucky were lying in his bed together, with Alpine lying right between the two of them. They were taking turns in petting her to keep her satisfied. Another episode of Brooklyn Nine Nine was playing on his television but not even Jake's adorableness could distract (Y/N) from what happened before.

At first, (Y/N) didn't even notice how Bucky kept glancing at her as she stroked the white cat's fur, making her purr contentedly. Only after a few minutes did (Y/N) catch his gaze and immediately knew what he wanted. Sighing she looked back at Alpine “Honestly, I don't really wanna talk about it“

“Then let me do the talking and you just listen, okay?“ Bucky sat up properly and leaned with his back against the bed wall which caused Alpine to slip from his lap and cry out in outrage before she attacked Bucky's metal arm and gnawed at it, which didn't bother him of course. (Y/N) stayed on her side and looked up at him as he started “Steve showed me the footage from the security camera earlier before you lost control.“

“I haven't lost control over my powers. I wanted to hurt her. That was on purpose.“ (Y/N) interrupted him immediately and looked back at her hands, which were somewhat scarred from the last mission. Bucky sighed and looked at her “I understand you. I would have done the same thing, but...we have to learn to control our anger. Next time...just kick her in the shins and she'll have a nice bruise.“

(Y/N) smiled to herself and then looked up at him “That sounds like a good alternative. But she is not the only one...I'm sure there are still enough people who think like her. That...we're nothing but a bunch of stupid freaks that get kept around here so we don't blow shit up or anything.“

“Hey...“ Bucky leaned over her and stroked her cheek whereupon Alpine jumped out of his lap and snuggled up on her blanket at the end of the bed. “You are not a freak, baby doll. Not you. Not Wanda. Not Pietro. How many times have you saved people's lives. They should be more grateful. And if anyone calls my beautiful, wonderful, adorable girlfriend a freak again, I'm gonna rip their heads off with my damn metal arm.“

“How romantic, Sergeant.“ (Y/N) smirked as he grinned back at her “Yes, I was a real romantic back in the days.“

Smiling, he leaned down to her and kissed her gently on the lips while she ran her fingers through his hair and pulled at it briefly. A soft growl escaped Bucky's throat as he mumbled into the kiss “Don't start something you can't finish, baby girl.“

“Oh don't worry, sweetheart. I can.“ (Y/N) replied while they continued to kiss whereby she moved her other free hand into his sweatpants. But just before she could go on, she paused as Bucky started to kiss down her neck and collarbone “Wait...if Steve overheard the whole confrontation between Violet and me...then-“

“Yeah, sweet cheeks, he heard everything. He said he'll be permanently damaged because of you because he won't get that scene out of his head.“ Bucky laughed and buried his face in her neck as (Y/N)'s face turned red.

Poor Stevie...

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So i’m thinking about creating a permanent taglist so if you want to be on it, send me an ask or reply to this post! Thanks!

[ibijau]

Worst engagement AU // on AO3

Lan Xichen tries his best to get along with Nie Huaisang, as instructed by Lan Qiren.

Lan Xichen, after some hesitation, did not report to his uncle how impolite Nie Huaisang was during their little meeting. After all, only two things could have happened: either Nie Huaisang would have been punished and turned even more resentful, or Lan Xichen himself would have been scolded for failing to make the meeting more agreeable to his fiancé. He couldn’t deny the tea was undrinkable for having turned cold, and he forgot that people outside of Gusu Lan are to be given snacks alongside their drink.

So he gets biscuits for their next meeting, and selects a brew of tea that can better handle being left to cool down, just in case Nie Huaisang is late again.

He is not. Nie Huaisang arrives exactly on time. He still refuses to say a single word until the incense is lit, but Lan Xichen has decided that he doesn’t care. If Nie Huaisang wants to be childish and petty, that’s his problem.

"In the interest of getting to know each other, I have prepared some questions," Lan Xichen announces as he pours the tea, " and I'm prepared to answer them too, of course, as well as any additional inquiries you might have." 

Nie Huaisang grimaces, but nods. 

"Go ahead." 

Lan Xichen promptly complies, and startw asking a list of reasonable questions which his uncle had helped him come up with. Education, training, experience in sect business.. At first Nie Huaisang answers as best as he could, but very soon he starts rolling his eyes. 

"That's stuff a matchmaker asks," he ends up complaining, "not an ordinary person! I thought you'd have normal questions." 

"What counts as normal questions?" 

"I don't know," Nie Huaisang mutters. To give himself time to think, he grabs a biscuit and bites into it, only to quickly grimace. He puts the biscuit back down, and never touches it again. "Hm. Things like… What's your favourite colour, your favourite food, your favourite thing to read, or…" 

"Marked preferences are discouraged."

Nie Huaisang startles at that and opens his fan so he can glare at Lan Xichen from behind it. 

"Oh so when you always played with my brother but ignored me it wasn't showing a preference then?" 

"That's different," Lan Xichen calmly protests. "Your brother is my friend. Personal connections are valued as long as they don't fall into excess."

"So you don't even have a favourite food? Not even… Come on, a favourite flavour at least? Something to show you're more human than you look?" 

It's ridiculous to insist so much on something so trivial, but Nie Huaisang is starting to look actually distressed that Lan Xichen manages to remain impartial as to his tastes. 

"I like sweet things," he reluctantly admits, and that alone feels like a betrayal of Gusu Lan's principles. 

Nie Huaisang lowers his fan. 

"Really? Lan gongzi, I could almost pity you then. I don't think I've ever tasted anything sweet among all the things I've been served in the Cloud Recesses."

"And that's why it's important to overcome food preferences. They only cause unhappiness. I very rarely have sweets and it is for the best."

That's partly a lie. Lan Xichen does miss eating candies, as he got to do in his youth. Even though she was secluded in the Jingshi and lived under strict rules, his mother always had something sweet to share with her sons on their monthly visit. Lan Qiren and her would get into arguments about that, accusing each other of ruining the brothers' lives. 

In the few weeks before her death, Lan Xichen had started refusing the candies, fearful of his uncle's disapproval. He regretted that now, knowing it had hurt his mother in her last moments to see him submit so fully to the rules of a sect she had never more than tolerated. 

Maybe he misses her more than the taste of sweetness. 

"So what does Nie gongzi prefer to eat?" he asks, pushing away memories and trying to focus on the present conversation. 

Nie Huaisang doesn't answer right away. He closes his fan and taps it lightly against his chin, as if this were a matter so important that it requires deep thought. 

"I don't know," Nie Huaisang says pensively. "I really don't know. I'm not that picky, I like anything. I guess I miss eating duck the most? The restaurants in Gusu just don't cook it right, so I really miss the dishes from home." 

That only confirms what Lan Xichen was taught. Preferences are a hindrance. When Nie Huaisang and him are married, it's very unlikely that he'll have duck more than once or twice a year, if even that. 

"What's your favourite colour?" Nie Huaisang asks. "I'll scream if you say white or blue." 

"I don't have a favourite colour," Lan Xichen retorts, refusing to think of a certain shade of green from a jade pendant his mother gifted to him.

"I think I'd have preferred if you told me it was white," Nie Huaisang grumbles. "You're so inhuman, I don't know how Mingjue can stand to be friends with you."

In fact, Nie Mingjue has teased him about these things in the past, until Lan Xichen gave in a little. Nie Mingjue knows about candies, about the shade of green that always attracts Lan Xichen's eyes, about the smell of gentians, and many other things that Lan Xichen has never shared with the people in front of whom he must perform perfection. 

"Nie gongzi, what is your favourite…" 

"Next week," Nie Huaisang cuts him after a glance at the incense, jumping to his feet. "If you still want to pretend you care." 

"Nie gongzi, this is rude!" Lan Xichen exclaims, in vain. 

Nie Huaisang has already gone, leaving Lan Xichen to deal with untouched biscuits and tea. It is tempting to ear one of those damn biscuits, especially after this conversation, but he restrains himself. 

-

For their third meeting, Lan Xichen tries again a different tea, since Nie Huaisang refused the other two. 

He tries, also, to ask more normal questions. That's how he learns that Nie Huaisang too has affinities for the colour green, that he has taken to reading poetry recently, and that he enjoys painting landscapes and animals above people, though he can do portrait too when the mood strikes him. 

Lan Xichen thinks, as he often does, of that painting hanging in Lan Wangji's room. 

"Nie gongzi, next week, why don't you bring some of your paintings? It might give us something to talk about." 

Unsurprisingly, Nie Huaisang hides behind his fan. It's a different one from before, the style of painting free and full of life. Lan Xichen can't help but wonder if Nie Huaisang painted it himself, though he elects not to ask. 

"My work is not good enough to be beholden by Lan gongzi," Nie Huaisang retorts in a venomous tone. "Beside, wasn't Lan gongzi the one who told me to give up on it?" 

"Judging by the fact you try to get Wei gongzi to cheat for you, I doubt you took my advice to focus on your studies."

"I simply asked for help so I wouldn't shame Lan gongzi as I did last year."

Lan Xichen rolls his eyes, then berates himself for that reaction. He can't be dragged down to that level. 

This time, Lan Xichen is the one who spots that the incense, mercifully, finished burning. 

"I won't keep you," he remarks. "But I meant it about your paintings. Bring them next week." 

Nie Huaisang stands up and throws him a hesitant look, as if trying to judge him. Lan Xichen does his best to keep a neutral expression, but that does little good. Nie Huaisang just shrugs and leaves without another word, as is already a habit at this point. 

-

Nie Huaisang does not bring his paintings, much to Lan Xichen's frustration. He has, in fact, been looking forward to that and even prepared some of his own works for Nie Huaisang to look at, including a copy of his rabbits. 

It does not matter. 

Lan Xichen isn't disappointed, he's just getting tired of his fiancé's stubbornness. They're supposed to learn to get along, but Nie Huaisang refuses to make any efforts. If this keeps up, Lan Xichen will tell Lan Qiren about this situation and hopefully those ridiculous meetings will simply stop. 

Of course, since Lan Xichen had counted on them talking about art, he has not prepared any other topic for them to discuss. Neither has Nie Huaisang, who looks ready to spend their entire time together in sullen silence rather than to even attempt small talk. 

“I’m told you play Go?” Lan Xichen asks after an eternity of silence where the stick has barely burned at all. 

Nie Huaisang looks at the incense stick as well and shrugs. Today too he has not touched the biscuits, though at least he sipped some tea. Lan Xichen makes a not of that. 

“A little. Not good enough for Lan gongzi, I’m sure.”

Lan Xichen has to bite the inside of his cheeks to keep himself from snapping that they both know this probably isn’t true. Lan Xichen has heard that Nie Huaisang plays on equal footing with Jiang Wanyin, and for having played against him once when he accompanied his uncle on a visit to Lotus Piers, he knows that’s no small feat.

“Would you like to try anyway?”

Again, Nie Huaisang glances at the incense still barely consumed.

“There’s not enough time.”

It takes effort not to get upset that all of Lan Xichen’s attempts keep being rejected. He really wants to give up on this and go complain to his uncle that this will never work. 

He suspects, though, that it will only make Lan Qiren insist even more on the importance of these meetings. 

Besides, Lan Xichen really feels curious about his fiancé's skill at the game. He is rather talented himself, so he is always looking for an opponent who can give him a challenge. 

“We can start the game now and continue next week. It would be more fun than just drinking tea and waiting for time to pass.”

Perhaps Nie Huaisang isn't as comfortable with silence as he tries to look, because that argument wins him over. 

As they begin playing, Lan Xichen feels confident in his abilities. He very often wins even against experienced players, so he has no reason to doubt himself. Very soon though, Nie Huaisang proves himself a worthy opponent, forcing Lan Xichen to reconsider all his decisions and often surprising him with bold, unexpected moves. 

Not that Lan Xichen doesn't give as good as he gets. He doesn't let Nie Huaisang rest, carefully laying traps for him and taking stone after stone. It is not often that he is forced to fight so hard against an opponent, and it is just as rare for a game to feel this fun. 

In the end Lan Xichen loses, but not by much and he’s not even upset about it. It has been a while since he’s played such a thrilling game. 

So thrilling, in fact, that neither of them thought to check the incense stick even once. By the time the game finishes it has long ago stopped burning, which Lan Xichen suspects is as shocking to both of them. 

“Let’s play again sometimes,” Lan Xichen suggests as Nie Huaisang rises to leave. 

Nie Huaisang seems surprised by his eagerness, or perhaps by the fact that Lan Xichen takes his loss so well. Either way he smiles and nods almost hesitantly. For a brief moment, he looks more like the boy he was last year, shy and uncertain, but he doesn’t linger around long enough for Lan Xichen to question it.

[inglourious-imagines]

Hate Me, Love Me (Joe Liebgott)

Summary: Everyone thinks you and Liebgott hate each other and so do you. But especially after one heated argument, the sexual tension between the two of you is so obvious and the boys don't know if you're gonna kill each other or jump at each other.

Warnings: just heated argument I guess

Author's Note: I had so much fun writing this. Hope you like it! Also, feel free to send me requests any time about anything!

Taglist: @alienoresimagines @inallmylives

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"Can you stop complaining and shut the fuck up?" Y/N almost growled at the Jewish boy as Easy Company was taken from the town Foy in trucks that were apparently too uncomforable for the man next to her. "Oh Y/N, don't tell me you'd cry," he stated and lighted a cigarette, "you're a big girl now." The blood in her veins was boiling and the others could see all the anger bottled up in her over the weeks but they were just having too much fun with her and Liebgott arguing so they just watched them with amusement. Y/N grabbed his cigarette right from his lips and took a long drag from it.

"That was my fucking cigarette. Can't you just let me enjoy at least a bit of a nicotine?" Joe frowned and looked at her annoyed. "Don't tell me you'd cry. You're a big boy now, Joe." Y/N teased him with a spiteful laugh and blew the smoke right into his face. 

•••

Haegenau was quite a nice little town on a right side from a river whereas the left side was considered german, under enemy's control. That's why they wanted a night patrol in order to capture some hostages and take them back on the correct side of the river.

The night chosen for the mission was perfect for pilots - no fog or clouds, shining moon - but definitely not good for a patrol. 

Y/N was supposed to assist Liebgott with a machine gun. She was disappointed it had to be him but lowkey glad she's not the one crossing the river. Well and Lieb was actually excited because he never declined an offer to provoke and tease her.

Joseph Liebgott didn't hate Y/N, didn't have absolutely anything against her. He thought she was one of the finest members of Easy Company, a brave female soldier with so much love, strength and darkness in her heart. All the boys loved her and he wasn't an exception, except for one thing - he had probably a little more affection towards her in him than anyone else. 

Because of that, Joe got scared. He was now a veteran in the war, he knew how things work around here and therefore he also realised, it's not definitely a good time for emotions.

That's why they shared this love-hate relationship. Both of them knew they can rely on each other in the field, he knew she has his back, there was an absolute trust between them. But as soon as they got back from the front line or there was some kind of a break, the teasing and provoking began all over again.

•••

"All clear?" Richard Winters reassured himself before he let his men go. Even though they already had a new leader, it was still Dick Winter's Company.

Liebgott and Y/N positioned themselves with a machine gun ready to fire at any time. They were both realizing the proximity between them but neither of them broke the silence. Being on the front line again, they respected and admired the other one quietly.

•••

The first patrol was so successful, Colonel Sink wanted another one the other night with the same people. But Richard Winters was a smart man, as well as Lewis Nixon so faking a report was not a problem to them and Easy Company was allowed to have a full night sleep. 

"Yeah and Y/N, can I talk to you for a second?" Nixon called out after Richard Winters dismissed them and left with Captain Speirs. "Of course, sir." she nodded and followed him out of basement. 

"Leave the "sir" for someone else. I told you to call me just Lewis." Nixon laughed and handed her a cigarette. Y/N didn't use to smoke before the war and the first cigarette was given to her by the one and only Joe Liebgott. Every time she was smoking, the Jewish boy came to her mind and she couldn't help it.

"Hey! Are you listening, Y/N?" Lewis was waving with his hand in front of her face. His face was decorated with knowing smirk.

"What you smiling at, Nix?" Y/N teased him and playfully punched his arm. 

"You two should have a real proper talk."

"Why should I start a freaking conversation with Joe?"

"I didn't say with who. You did."

•••

When Y/N came back to the other boys, she was highly upset that Lewis Nixon found out and that it was only her fault. What only made her angrier was that Lewis thought that they'd make a perfect couple, like Romeo and Juliet which was actually pretty accurate because Joe was a Jew and she was partly German. Her people hated his people, therefore it worked the other way around as well. This totally got her mad and she stormed out of the room to join the boys.

"No, you damn idiot! What are you even trying to say?!" Liebgott's voice echoed in the basement. His fists were clenched, his face red - partly because of his anger bottling up in him, partly because he knew Bill's right. 

"You know damn well what I mean. You need to stop the game finally." Guarnere spoke surprisingly calmly and wasn't even offended by Joe's insult. Liebgott was simply hot-tempered and little did Bill know that he's the one telling the truth. 

"What game?" Y/N interrupted and the whole room fell silent. Her eyes wandered from one man to another and questioning them. 

Joe rubbed his eyes in annoyance, "Damn it! You don't need to know everything."

Y/N was already angry and this only added the oil to the fire. "Well, I'm sorry Mr. I'm-the-best-and-everyone-can-kiss-my-ass that I actually care!"

"Oh c'mon! Don't start with this. Go and chase Nixon and his dick for fuck's sake!"

"Really, Joseph? You're just jealous I'm not chasing yours."

No one in the room dared to say something in their matter. They were almost afraid to breathe. Their eyes were jumping from Y/N to Liebgott.

"Now I don't know if they're gonna kill each other or kiss each other." George whispered to Perconte and chuckled a bit. 

"Hey, Luz! What's so funny about me and Joe's dick? Please, share your idea with us?" Y/N turned to him with narrowed eyes and her arms folded on her breasts. 

"Nothing's funny about you or his dick." George mumbled and looked at the ground. He felt like he was caught red-handed. 

"Really? But I heard you laughing. So tell us, don't be ashamed." she encouraged him with a devilish smirk.

"Can we please stop talking about my dick? Please?" Joe joined in slightly annoyed with the whole situation. 

"Oh! Sorry, Joe!" she exclaimed with an obvious irony in her voice, "would you like to discuss this in private?"

The room was dead silent again. All eyes were on Joe when he tried to get out some words but he only managed to stutter, "W-what?" 

"That's called a fucking sarcasm, you moron." Y/N rolled his eyes but added with a smirk after a few seconds, "But I'll take your 'what' as a no, okay. Thought we could have some fun." A wink was sent Joe's way. 

"No!" he shouted probably way too quickly. He shrugged and took a few steps towards her. His usual cocky self was back. "You want to fight, girl? You'll follow me now to the empty room upstairs and there, I'm gonna declare a war."

"Eww!" George shouted, "get the hell out of here, we don't want to listen to your sugar sex talk."

[fireopal-tash]

First of all, an explanation about certain words that I will use: - things like 'daughters', 'mother' and 'sisters' is not in the sense of family, but of creation, superiority in a more friendly way, and closeness.

After all, gems have no family. Not until Steven. It is a simple connection that has no words, that's why I use those. If it bothers you, my apologies. You can change the words for others, if that is what you prefer.

Also, as always, sorry if there are mistakes ^w^'

Chapter 5: Era 0

It was a warm and bright morning when Steven Universe was woken up by a commotion below. Still a bit sleepy, but worried about what might have happened, Steven ran down the stairs, almost hitting the wall. He didn't notice anything out of the ordinary at first, until he saw smoke coming from the kitchen. He headed there, somewhat amused by what he saw. Amethyst, Pearl, and Spinel were covered in bread dough, flour, and... something he guessed was cream. The smoke was coming from the oven, apparently.

"What are you doing?" He asked, holding back his laughter. The gems looked at him somewhat embarrassed. Well, Amethyst seemed to be having fun more than anything, and Pearl seemed worried, trying to get rid of the smoke. Spinel, however, looked at the ground with a really red face.

"I... I just wanted to make you the brakefat" she mumbled, trying to explain.

"Don't you mean 'breakfast'?" the purple gem snickered, one hand over her mouth. She couldn't resist, really. That pink gem was very... cartoonish. And funny.

"Ha ha ha" Spinel mocked her, annoyed by the other's attitude "It was your fault it ended up like this. You told me to..." Their discussion stopped short when they heard Steven's free laugh. When was the last time he laughed like that? None of them remembered. And the heart-shaped gem was very captivated. Amethyst snickered again at the sight of Spinel's face, which brought her out of that state.

"S-shut up!" she complained, he cheeks flushed. Ame laughed again.

"Ok, ok. I'll stop now." she got off the counter, brushed off the food scraps and headed in front of Spinel "To make it up to you, how about I take you to the funniest place in all Beach City?"

That invitation was... very tempting, she had to admit. And Spinel smiled enthusiastically, forgetting the disaster that surrounded them.

"Now, Amethyst? Really?" Pearl pointed at the mess, almost hoping they would understand her. She knew better than that tho.

"I don't see what's the problem. Spinel still needs a tour of the city" the purple shrugged, completely unconcerned.

"Amethyst!" Pearl yelled annoyed.

Spinel, once clean, approached Steven, arm in arm, watching the scene in front of them. It was funnier than her misfortune on her first attempt at cooking.

"We better get going, before Pearl makes us clean everything up too" Steven whispered, walking in the direction of the door.

"Wait! Steven...!" Amethyst yelled running after them, ignoring Pearl, who kept talking about how irresponsible she was. Ah, the old days...

It didn't take long for the three of them to get to the Big Donut. After running part of the way, of course. Breathing somewhat ragged, Steven looked at Amethyst.

"Amethyst, why, ah, this sudden interest in being a guide?" He asked somewhat curious, still catching his breath.

"Eh, no reason. Someone has to do it" she replied absently.

Noticing how the smaller gem got all of Spinel's attention, Steven snorted, somewhat irritated. He could be a guide too. He had done it many other times, after all, hadn't he?

"Hey Ame-" He was interrupted again by the purple who made a loud exclamation as she pointed to another place, managing to capture Spinel's attention even more.

Steven grunted. The purple gem kept walking, showing and pointing at everything in their path, Spinel behind her as she looked at Steven with concern. It hadn't escaped her attention how very dejected the boy looked. The brunet's good humor seemed to have vanished the moment Amethyst had offered to accompany them.

"Spinel, look over there!" Amy exclaimed again, pointing to one of the buildings there. They were in Little Homeworld now "There are the gems I mentioned earlier. Come on"

Steven hadn't realized, until now, that she had been talking about other gems, or that they had arrived at Little Homeworld. They both approached the center, Amethyst calling out to said gems, while Steven lagged behind. Today nothing was going well. It was too early for this. He sighed, his hands fisted in his pockets. He did not want anyone to see him in that state. And it was ridiculous, to be honest. There was no reason to be upset. He should be happy for Spinel.

"Lapis! Peri! Bis!" she called again. The three mentioned gems appeared shortly after, Bismuth carrying a heavy weight on one of her shoulders.

"Hey Amethyst!" The smallest gem greeted, being caught by one of the arms of the purple gem "Stop it!" she complained, managing to get rid of it "You know how much I hate when you mess with my hair"

"Heh. Whatever you say dwarf" she stuck out her tongue. Peridot hid behind Bismuth, her cheeks puffed out.

"And who is this gem?" Lapis Lazuli asked, noticing the pink one.

Spinel looked away, seeming to be looking for something, or someone, before approaching Steven and wrapping her arm with his. She was feeling nervous again.

"It's okay" Steven reassured her, and turned his attention to the blue gem, at whom he smiled "Lapis, this is Spinel. She is new, and today she is here to learn a little about our planet, right?" He looked back at Spinel. Spinel nodded, implying that it was true.

"Nice to meet you, Spinel. I am Lapis, Lapis Lazuli. The dwarf gem is Peridot. And the gigantic gem over there is Bismuth.

"Diamonds are bigger" Spinel commented on impulse.

Well it was true. Bismuth was small compared to the matriarchs. Lapis snorted, especially when she saw the shocked faces of her companions.

"I like this gem~"

Spinel beamed at her accomplishment. Even if that was not her intention. She wasn't as rusted as she had originally believed. Steven was an exception.

The rest of the day they took a detour. The gems were telling stories, taking again all Spinel's attention. Amethyst was the one in front of the entire group, leading animatedly. Steven stayed behind once more, noticing how Spinel was acclimatizing. Soon she wasn't going to need him... It was Bismuth who noticed this, heading back, until she was next to Steven.

"Hey, buddy? What's wrong?"

"Bismuth?" he was surprised to see her there. He shook his head and with a forced smiled said "it's nothing"

The multicolored gem frowned, not believing him at all. It was clear that the hybrid was upset about something.

"Come on, tell Aunt Bis what's wrong?" she insisted.

The boy sighed again, knowing that the other was not going to give up. His gaze fell on Spinel, who was talking to Lapis, as she showed her one of the trees. Spinel seemed amazed.

"It's just that I thought I could help her" referring to the gem with two pigtails.

"I don't see the problem, it seems to me that you're already helping her"

"That's what it looks like, isn't it? But I didn't do anything. The others are the ones helping her. Showing her everything. Telling her everything she needs to know. And I don't know how..." he complained hands in his hair.

"Steven. You, better than anyone, know that you cannot pressure others to do what you want, even if your intentions are good" she admonished him.

The hybrid was embarrassed to notice that this was what he had been doing.

"Besides, isn't it your presence that makes her feel so relax around us? If you look closely, you will notice that you do more than you think. Give yourself more credit, Steven. You deserve it. "

She patted him on the shoulder, before returning to Lapis's side, changing the subject, noticing Peridot and Amethyst were about to start an argument.

"I guess you're right..." Steven whispered, relieved.

(In Beach City)

It didn't take Pearl long to clean up the mess in the kitchen, plus Garnet was waiting for her on top of the portal, so she didn't have time to lose.

Today they were going to visit the diamonds. Cleaning helped her with her nervousness.

"Pearl, we don't have all day," Fusion reminded her patiently. She didn't want to go either, but it was for Steven's good.

"Yes. Of course. You're right, Garnet" the pale gem sighed, before putting away her cleaning supplies. Better to get this over with as soon as possible.

They both immediately traveled to Homeworld, appearing in front of the gigantic thrones. The diamonds were nowhere to be seen.

"Well, here we are. How do we do this, Garnet?" Pearl asked, her hands entwining between them. She still didn't like the place, tho this was her first home.

"We have to find the Diamonds. Or the pearls. They will know where to find the Diamonds" replied the fusion calmly, noticing the room full of other gems.

"Right, come on then!" exclaimed the other nervously. The fusion followed her, preferring to keep quiet. Some things never really change, do they?

They had been walking from hall to hall for at least half an hour trying to find someone who could help them before finding that someone.

"Blue Pearl..." Pearl whispered. The last time they saw each other, not counting what happened two years ago, was shortly after the war began.

The blue pearl seemed to have a good hearing, because she turned in their direction, her hands clasped as they usually are. She tilted her head slightly, before speaking.

"Blue Diamond is busy with a meeting with Yellow Diamond" she said, intuiting in part the reason why two of the members of the Crystal Gems were present.

"Ah...! Yeah? T-then we'll go talk to White Diamond" replied Pearl nervously but almost challenging.

"Wait" Garnet looked closely at Blue Pearl "Maybe you can help us" she finally decided.

"Me?" she said softly.

"Garnet?" Pearl questioned her friend.

"I'm curious. I've heard of a very interesting story about the first Era" she lied easily "and I would like to know more about it"

A few seconds passed, before Blue Pearl decided to give them an answer. By way of following them, because all she did was walk in another direction. The palest gem had her doubts, but trusted her friend's judgment. They spent some time going through the corridors, before reaching their objective. Pearl gasped, immediately recognizing the place. The Great Library about Gems and their History. She believed her entry had been forbidden before she was created. She must have said that outloud, because Blue Pearl replied with a:

"It was reopened recently. It has been several millennia since I was last here..." her dreamy gaze under her bangs was positioned over the other Pearl "Something you never could" Pearl felt irritation bloom inside her. She knew she was teasing her, even if neither her tone of voice, nor her words, showed it.

"Right. That's why I'm here" she admitted with difficulty. The hand on her back made her feel better. At least she had someone's support "Come on, Garnet"

In Homeworld, things like night and day didn't exist. There was always light, albeit artificial. The library that Pearl and Garnet were in was no different from the rest of the planet. It was huge, cold, and empty, apart from the few gems, and many, many files. All in the form of a somewhat old and difficult to read writings - more by the method of recording such information than by the language itself. Time didn't seem to pass.

"We've been here for many hours, I think, Garnet. And we haven't found anything! Are you sure this is the right place? It would be quicker to ask the diamonds." Pearl kept complaining. If she was on Earth, she would have been excited about this research. But she was too uncomfortable.

"No. This is the place. Here we will find our answers. If at some point the Diamonds give us information, we can contrast it with what we find here."

"But the Diamonds were the ones who created this place. They are the ones who have lived the history of the gems since the beginning. Or at least White did." the last thing was mumbled, a little unsure.

"Mmm"

The two kept silent, still searching through the sea of information, their patience wearing thin.

"Aha! Here! I found it!" Pearl exclaimed with a shout of joy. At last! "Let me see..."

The pale gem began to read aloud:

"Entry XXXXX - 6

This writing is a testimony of the times. ERA 0.

Thousands of years ago, the Guardians were created, formed by the great authority, White Diamond. The Great Creator, that's what they called her in those days.

This was an opportunity, a new community, created from the power of The Great Creator. Our Queen, in her benevolence, gave each gem created from her light her own gems, and thus create great cities and discovered more worlds. A whole colony. The First of many others.

Tourmaline. Tanzanite. Moissanite. These were the three great Guardians. The first gems created by The Great Star. Powerful as they were, they weren't perfect. They made mistakes, being punished by The Great Creator, turned into permanent statues to maintain their eternal vigilance over the entrances of each new world. What did their 'daughters' do to receive such a destiny, you ask? Breaking the only law that existed during the Era 0: The separation of two Gem Mates.

Shortly after another law was created: Vindicta.

[ Gem Mates are gems that are made to be together forever. Made to be understood. Made to never feel alone. Their bodies of light, their music, everything in them is in sync. Much more than a fusion could ever be. They call it: The Final Union. If for some reason a GemMate is destroyed or is too far from its half, its lights will fade, agonisingly slowly. Some take longer, others turn off suddenly. There are records of these events in entry XXXXVI - 19 ]

Tourmaline was jealous of the closeness between Tanzanite and Moissanite, her sisters. They were both Gemmates, so it wasn't a surprise. But, as the story goes, Tourmaline was madly 'in love' - that's what she called it, that feeling - Painful but the most wonderful thing she had ever felt.

One day, she saw them together sharing their light. Fusion. That moment of intimacy was what made her act impulsively, pulling out her sledgehammer - a weapon that was created to protect, not to destroy - and take down one of her sisters. Tanzanite. When the Guardian came back to herself, The Great Creator was present. Moissanite, hurt by the loss, asked for one last wish to her Queen, before she herself ceased to exist. Their wish was granted with the idea that they would give up, or lose the will to commit such a crime. Such was her mistake...

The fighting was fierce and devastating. All the gems present were watching from a distance, shouting, asking for the tragedy to stop. They had never seen anything so devastating as the fight and separation of their Guardians. They asked for mercy. White Diamond granted their wish. She had had enough.

"For having broken the universal law, for separating what should never have been separated, and for the use of the Vindicta, I condemn you to an eternity as statues" said this, the Great Authority threw a powerful light, turning their companions in what today are known as statues, objects of admiration; and soon after, historic art walls were created to never forget what happened.

Some time later, perhaps due to the loss of her daughters, The Queen created two more gems. Blue and Yellow Diamond. The New Authority. Welcome to Era 1.

End of Entry

White Sapphire, the Queen's Clairvoyant "

That was all. It was not the only entry on this same topic, but the first of many others. Apparently they were going to spend a lot more time in the Great Library about Gems and their History than they thought.

They both looked at each other with a triumphant smile. At least now they had knew where to start.

What did you think of my entry? I have my own version of the Gems history, something that will be part of my Fic.

It will not be 100% well done, sure, but I hope you find it interesting, and you like it~ xP

[startanewdream]

Hello Mah, forgive me for coming to ask for another prompt, I should control myself more, but I was reading ''Fate'' when I came across with this part ''Harry will have a full plate with these two someday.''

And I thought that if you haven't written that, make Harry complain to James and Sirius or Lily, idk, over the Easter break, about how Hermione and Ron are fighting, and maybe, just if you want, there is no Voldemort? Just to see the Golden Trio even more as teenagers, as they should be. But if you want to put Voldemort to give that dramatic touch of yours, it's okay too, you decide :)

and if you don't want to write that, that's fine too <3

Hiiiiii, Sweet! <3 please send all the asks you want!

I loved this prompt so much that I couldn’t help myself. So please enjoy this family moment between Harry, his parents and Sirius as they discuss Ron and Hermione’s possible relationship, during the Easter Break of Harry’s Fourth Year (for curiosity, in this universe, Ron and Hermione begin dating the start of their Fifth Year - and one day I’ll finish a WIP about Hinny’s relationship in the same universe) 

Oh, and I know you asked for the Golden Trio being teenagers, but, really, here the parents are the teenagers:

Harry looks at the letter Errol just dropped with a heavy sigh that’s muffled by the sound of the owl hitting the glass of the window instead of flying away.

‘Rest before you go back’, Harry says, picking up the owl carefully (Errol blinks in thanks) and taking it downstairs to the tree next to the window of the kitchen that stands as their owlery. His parents are there, with Sirius, finishing their breakfast.

‘Morning’, Harry says distractedly, helping to place Errol in a branch of the tree, next to a sleepy Hedwig.

‘Come take your breakfast, Harry’, his mother tells him. Harry sits, yawning.

‘What’s with the grumpy face?’, Sirius asks, watching him.

‘I woke up early. Hermione sent me a letter - and when I was almost sleeping again, Errol came with another’.

‘Ron and Hermione are already writing?’, James asks, sounding amused. ‘You have been apart for only one day, you know that, right?’

Lily giggles. ‘Look who's talking. When was the last time you spent a day without seeing Sirius?’

‘Hey!’, James complains, while Harry laughs too. ‘If I don’t see him, how will I know he’s been feeding himself?’

‘Maybe trust he is a functional thirty-five-year-old guy?’

‘Hey, I am right here’, Sirius remembers.

‘Yeah, and you are eating breakfast in our place, which just proves my point’, James notes, smirking. He turns to Harry. ‘What’s so important they had to write to you on the first day of the holidays?’

‘Privacy, James?’, Lily says, amused. ‘Or you used to share the contents of your Marauder letters with your parents?’

‘I hope not’, Sirius intervenes. ‘He used to talk a lot about you in those letters - I am not sure Monty and Mia would have enjoyed reading so much about your very nice pair of -’

‘Hey, hey!’, Harry interrupts, raising his hands. ‘Kid alert here!’

‘Very nice pair of eyes, Harry’, Sirius says calmly. ‘Why did you think I would say?’

‘Oh, shut it’, Harry rolls his eyes, ignoring the redness around his neck. ‘And if you want to know, it’s no big deal, they don’t stop talking about it anyway. It’s about Viktor Bloody Krum’.

‘Harry -’

‘Sorry, Mom’, Harry adds hurriedly. ‘It’s just I don’t wanna ever hear about him again, really’.

‘What happened to all that admiration?’, James asks, surprised. ‘I thought you were cheering more for him than for the Hogwarts Champion’.

‘That was because…’, Harry’s voice drifts off, embarrassed. He doesn’t really want to talk about why Cedric Diggory annoys him lately. ‘Well, I don’t have any problem with Krum, but don’t say his name out loud near Ron and Hermione unless you want to hear them bickering’.

‘Oh, they are still in that phase?’, asks Lily, a grin playing on her lips that Harry doesn’t understand.

‘They always bicker, it’s just… I don’t get it, I thought Ron would actually be glad Hermione is friends with Krum, but all he does is complain’.

‘They are friends? Krum and Hermione’, his father asks, raising his eyebrows. Harry supposes that’s really an unlikely pair.

‘Well, friends, I don’t know - wait, I didn’t tell you? Hermione went with Krum to the Yule Ball’.

James and Sirius make a chorus of ‘ohhhh’, raising their eyebrows at the same time, and pull their chairs so they get closer to Harry.

‘You didn’t tell us!’, his father complains.

‘I didn’t think it was important’.

‘You really need to sort out your priorities, Harry’, Sirius says, somber. ‘That’s big news’.

‘Hermione and Krum?’, Harry asks doubtfully, then he grins. ‘Oh, wait until you hear everything then’.

And he tells them how Ron got upset with Hermione’s choice of date, accusing her of fraternizing with the enemy.

‘Wow’.

‘Nice phrasing’, Sirius agrees.

‘I should have used it when I found you snogging Anthony Travers’.

‘He was hot’.

‘He was a Slytherin!’

Lily rolls her eyes. ‘Grow up’, she mumbles, but they don’t seem to hear.

‘And at the end of the Yule Ball’, Harry adds, expecting for their reactions, ‘she told Ron that next time there was a ball, he should ask her before someone else does, and not as a last resort!’.

Sirius and James don’t disappoint him. ‘OOOOOOH’.

‘One point to Hermione!’

‘She definitely hit a nerve there’.

‘And then what happened?’, Sirius asks curiously. ‘The next day? What did they do?’

Harry shrugs. ‘Nothing, actually, they just pretended nothing happened’.

‘I will need to talk to Ron’, James says gravely; he looks at Lily. ‘If you told me something like that, I would be asking you out the very next minute’.

She gives him a loopsided grin that Harry is sure she learned with his father. ‘As if you would ever not ask me for any ball first’.

James grins, raising to kneel in front of her. ‘My dearest Lily, would you give me the pleasure of your company for all balls for the rest of your life?’

‘Oh, get a room you two’, Sirius says, rolling his eyes. ‘I am waiting to hear the rest of the story. Come on, Harry’.

But Harry is looking wistfully at his parents. ‘It must be so nice to ask someone out when you know she is going to accept it’.

James laughs. ‘Well, now it seems easy, but when I asked your mom, trust me, I was nothing but a nerve-wracking mess’.

‘He fainted’, Lily agrees, looking fondly at her husband.

‘It was not a faint! I just closed my eyes for a while -’

‘Harry’, Sirius interrupts out loud. ‘So if everything was ok, why are you receiving letters now?’

‘Oh’, Harry grins. ‘It’s because of the Second Task. The champions had to rescue the things they would miss the most - and for Krum, that was Hermione’.

‘That is so -’

‘Unexpected?’, Lily suggests. ‘Unbelievable exaggerated for someone you just went to a ball together?’

‘Romantic’, Sirius finishes, frowning at her. ‘What did James see in you, Evans?’

‘Potter’, she notes, smirking. ‘And from what you said, he was very fond of my pair of… eyes’.

‘Oh, stop you two’, James says, waving his hand as if they are two misbehaved kids. He glances at Harry. ‘I take Ron didn’t like it very much’.

‘No, he hated it. I mean, he was very worried with Hermione while she was underwater, though I told him Dumbledore wouldn’t really anything happen with any of the hostages… and then when she was safe, he got angry with her!’

‘Of course he did’, James agrees, eyes sparkling with laugh. Harry doesn’t see much humour in this story.

‘Well, now they keep arguing about Krum, about house-elves, about whoever Ron is talking to, about everything, and I am in the middle of it. Letters and all now’.

James exchanges a look with Lily. ‘We were never like that’.

‘No, we went from arguing to bantering and then snogging’.

‘It wasn’t arguing, I was just an arse and you didn’t take it quietly’, James says unabashed. ‘But I meant we never took pleasure in arguing just for the sake of it’.

‘I wish you had’, Sirius notes. ‘At least then I could shut you up with a spell’.

‘We were not that bad’, James says fairly. Sirius gives one of his barking laughs.

‘You two keep looking at each other when you thought the other wasn’t looking, both convinced the other didn’t like you back, while you both sighed all over the place, finding some stupid excuses to be near each other - I mean, come on, how many meetings could you have in our final year?’

‘I was Head Boy!’, James remembers.

‘See? The worst excuse ever to get near a girl’.

Harry blinks. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘Your parents’, Sirius says joyfully. ‘And comparing them with Ron and Hermione’.

‘What they have to do in common?’

‘Oh, Harry’, Sirius looks at him almost pityingly. ‘You see, when a boy likes a girl - or another boy, or when a girl likes a boy or a girl -’

‘You are just complicating everything, Padfoot’, Lily tells him brightly. ‘What he means is that there is something going on between Ron and Hermione’.

‘Yeah’, Harry agrees, his brows furrowed. ‘They are fighting’.

The other three laugh. Harry crosses his arms, annoyed.

‘But why are they fighting, Harry?’, his mother asks gently.

‘Because they are two stubborn people?’

‘But why now, why about Krum?’ When Harry shrugs, without answering, Lily shakes her head. ‘Oh, dear, you are as oblivious as your father’.

‘Hey!’

Lily places a soft kiss on James’ face before turning to Harry.

‘Ron is jealous of Hermione’, she explains patiently. ‘And Hermione wished Ron had asked her to the ball before. You see now?’

‘So Ron and Hermione… will become Ron and Hermione?’

‘I don’t know that’, Lily says. ‘Not every crush turns into something’. 

‘Ours did’, James whispers, smugly.

‘And not every school romance lasts after school either’.

‘Seventeen years together’, James sings. Lily throws him a fond look.

‘And counting’, she agrees, offering her hand for him to take it.

Sirius rolls his eyes.

‘You see what I had to endure with these two? That will be you with Ron and Hermione’.

‘They like each other?’, Harry repeats, thinking, but now that they’ve said it, he supposes he couldn’t really be surprised.

All that bickering had to mean something - and beyond that, they were always close, always gravitating around each other. He supposes he should be glad they would move on that bickering phase, but if they did...

‘But - what if they get together? I will be a third wheel! Worse, what if they get together and then split up? We won’t be friends -’

‘You are overworrying, son’, James assures him. ‘You won’t stop being their friends no matter what happens’.

‘Yeah’, Lily mumbles. ‘Look at Sirius’.

‘What about me?’

‘James dating me and marrying me didn’t affect the relationship between Prongs and Padfoot’, she notes, ignoring Sirius’ wink at her. ‘So you will be fine with them’.

Sirius nods gravely. ‘There is only one rule you need to follow when your best friends are dating, Harry. Remember that and your life will be easier’.

‘What is that?’

Sirius grins. ‘Always knock on their doors before you enter any room they are in or else you will see them in positions you didn’t even know it was possible’.

‘Sirius!’