#but walking tornadoes are another class all their own

[spinejackel]

What are dead man walking tornadoes? :O

it’s a multi-vortex tornado. i dont remember the tribe it originates from (i think it was cherokee), but there’s a native american legend…? saying? that goes “if you see a man in a tornado, you are about to die.”

the most infamous shot of a dead man walking tornado hit jarrell, texas in 1997

it did so much damage to the town it caused the scale that tornados are measured by, the fijita scale, undergo revisions, and it made anchoring buildings in the tornado alley region pretty much mandatory. (it took the entire town off the map. only those who had taken shelter outside of the town or in underground bunkers survived.)

two more examples of dead man walking tornadoes looking like a person are a tornado from 2011 that hit cullman, alabama

and a tornado from 1975 that hit xenia, ohio

edit: it has been brought to my attention that the native american “legend” part of this post was a rumor spread by a documentary.

i have been asked to remove it, but i believe in letting my errors stand because i’m not perfect. i make mistakes

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Hi! Congrats on 500 followers!

Could I request prompt 30 with Javi going out of his ways to surprise Osita with a candle lit dinner at home? Javi is a great cook and very domestic/tidy in my head.

Thank you! 😍

Ugh, nonnie, this one was so cute!!! 😭💕 I 100% agree that Javi is also kind of a neat freak and a good cook!! Also this one goes out to my own personal Javi P bc my husband has put up with my grumpy ass while I go back to school this week and has done everything around the house so I can go to bed at like 8:00 every night 🥺

You Make Life Worth It

Summary: Javi knows you've had a rough week at school, and surprises you with dinner

Word count: 1.2K

Warnings: FLUFFFF, allusions to smut (bc of course), mentions of eating and drinking, mentions of alcohol, work stress, Javi just being the sweetest and wanting to make you happy bc he literally loves you so much

This can be read as a stand alone or as a part of the It's Never Too Late Series!

Part of the 500 Followers Celebration Requests!

Tired would have been a tame way to describe how you had felt the past few days. Truth be told, you were fucking exhausted. There must have been something in the air at Alma Pierce Elementary School this week- your class was even crazier than normal, you got a new student in the middle of the year, the copier and broken down on you not once, but three times, and the closest you had gotten to eating lunch was shoving half a sandwich in your mouth during the 30 seconds you had to sit down at your desk. It was safe to say, you’d been kind of a grump this week. Javi knew first hand from his mom that teaching was absolutely draining, and could tell when there were times that all you needed to do was come home and lay down on the couch before you could do anything else.  You tried your best to always have a positive outlook and not complain, but when Javi came home yesterday to find you face down at the kitchen table, asleep face down in the pile of art projects you were trying to organize, you were really going through it. 

Today had been no better than the rest of the week, but at least it was Friday. Although, this Friday felt a lot less relaxing than most, realizing on the drive home that your apartment was a disaster. You had been so tired that practically every household chore had gone neglected. Laundry was in a heap on the floor, dishes were piled in the sink, you had left things out everywhere- it really looked like a tornado had rolled through and took down everything in the apartment in its wake. Javi was always good about helping you clean around the house, but his dad had needed help re-roofing part of the horse barn, and had been over there every day after work, coming home to find you already passed out in bed, on the couch or yesterday, the kitchen table. Trudging up the stairs to your apartment, you took a deep breath as you walked down the hallway to your door, pausing as you got closer. Why was there music playing? Why did it smell so good? Javi isn’t supposed to be home for another 3 hours? The questions spun in your head as you twisted the doorknob, too exhausted to even care if it was an intruder. If it was, at least they had good music taste and were maybe making you dinner. 

As you pushed open the door, you saw your apartment was dimly lit, candles scattered around the living room and kitchen, the shadows of the flames flickering and dancing along the walls. You could hear soft music and pans sizzling in the kitchen, along with the sweet humming of Javi’s voice. You closed the door behind you to see that the candles were everywhere, placed all over your now spotless apartment, taking a few more shocked steps into the living room before Javi noticed your presence. He grinned, quickly setting down what he was working and wiping his hands on the towel he had tucked in his waistband while he was cooking before coming over to cup your face for a long, sweet kiss that made your heart race, leaving you speechless. 

“Javi… is this… what are you… what?” You stumbled over your words, tears welling behind your eyes as you felt the stress begin to melt from your body. 

“Go take a seat, dinner’s almost done.” He smiled, tucking a piece of loose hair behind your ear before planting another kiss on your lips and heading back to the delicious smell of whatever was in the kitchen. Turning around, you now noticed that Javi had set the table with a fresh bouquet of flowers sitting in a vase in the middle, and two beers for you at your seat. 

“You really knew it was a two beers off the get-go kinda night, huh?” You snickered, cracking open one of the cans, taking a lengthy sip sitting down in your usual spot. 

“Osita, with the week you’ve had, I probably should have just set the whole 6-pack out for you.” The both of you laughed as you propped your elbow up on the table, resting your chin in your palm as you gazed at Javi, a gentle grin growing across your face as you watched him finish up dinner and bring a plate out for each of you. “What’s that look for?” He smirked, gesturing to you as he set both your plates down, pressing a soft kiss into the top of your head before sitting down in his seat. 

“You just… Javi, you didn’t have to do all of this. It’s so nice of you. Like, so nice of you. Thank you, Jav. You’re way too good to me.” You outstretched your arm across the table, grabbing his hand, tenderly running your thumb across his skin. “I love you.” The 3 words sliding out of your mouth just as easily as the stress had slid from your dreary expression after walking into your apartment just moments ago. “Also this salmon looks so good I could cry. Oh my god, is that the risotto too? I think that you have literally ruined any other risotto for me ever because whatever you do to it is- I don’t even know. I dream about your risotto, babe. You really are too good for me.” Nodding down at the plate in front of you, eyes widening at the delicious looking food Javi had made the both of you. He laughed as you took a fork full, your eyes rolling in the back of your head as swallowed, practically moaning from how good it was. 

“Well it’s the least I can do to make up for being a shitty boyfriend this week. I felt awful that I had to help Pops and that the past few days had been so tough for you. I feel super shitty that I haven’t helped to keep the apartment clean, either, I know that stresses you out.” He shifted his eyes down to his food, frown pursing his lips, feeling guilty for not doing more to help. “But-” his demeanor began to shift as he took a bite full of food, barely finishing chewing before speaking again. “Everything should be all cleaned now, laundry’s done, even finally got around to fixing that fucking shelf in our bedroom so it doesn’t scare the shit out of us every time it falls down.” He smiled at you, the look in his eyes almost begging you to forgive him for the fact he hadn’t been there for you the past few days. 

“Damn… I don’t know Jav, I’m really gonna miss almost crapping my pants every time that collapses.” The two of you giggled, taking a few more bites of your food before the gears in your head began to turn, wondering how Javi had time to do any of the things he was talking about, let alone have time to make you this delicious dinner. “Wait, when did you do all this? How did you have time to get all this done? 

Javi shrugged, raising his eyebrows, trying his best to hold back his grin. “Told Morris that I had something I had to get done today. Left a few hours early.” 

“Javier Peña, you did not leave work early just to clean the apartment and make dinner!” You swatted at his hand across the table, trying your best to be mad at him, your sass only making him smile wider. “My couple of bad days and lack of responsibility for not cleaning up after myself is not a good reason for you to play hooky.” 

“Hey.” He paused, grabbing your hand, holding it carefully as his sweet brown eyes gazed into yours. “Before you, I had nothing to live for. I had written off the chance of ever having anything like this. But then you came into my life. I never dreamed that something as simple as coming home from work early to do laundry and cook dinner would make me so happy. But, when you’re doing it for the person you love more than anything in the world, I’d do it again and again, every goddamn day. So thank you.” Te amo, Osita. Me enamoro mil veces al día, y todas son de ti. (I love you, Osita. I fall in love a thousand times a day, each time with you.) He interlaced his fingers with yours, holding your hand up to his face, planting a tender kiss on the top of your hand. A smile stretched across your face as you sniffled, using your free hand to wipe the tears falling down your cheeks with your sleeve. 

“Te amo más (I love you more), you dork. Thanks for making me cry.” You teased, Javi giving your hand a squeeze before releasing it, letting you dry the rest of your wet face. “I still don’t know what I ever did to deserve you. Or this delicious food. You’re the best, Javi. Thank you.” 

“I’m glad you like it. I hope you saved room for dessert.” He smirked, a boyish grin growing across his face as he bit down on his lip. You raised an eyebrow at him, setting your fork down on your almost cleared plate as you leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Oh really? And what’s on the menu for dessert today, chef Peña?” 

“You’ll see.” 

“Oh, I’ll see? Okay then, well-ahhhhh!” You squealed as Javi darted up from his seat, lifting you out of your chair and scooping you up in his arms, peppering kisses across your body as he carried you off towards the bedroom as you giggled and squirmed in his arms. “Does dessert come with seconds?” You asked, as he carried you down the hallway, only stopping his ticklish kisses to answer your question. 

“Baby, dessert alone is about to be a full four course meal.”  

Taglist: @cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed

[coloredsolos]

hi :) i’d love situations #6 + fluff with jean please. love your writing!

MIRACLE ON 104th STREET

pairing: jean kirstein x reader

prompt: watching christmas movies

content: jeanboy surprises you for christmas, MODERN AU, not proofread

wc: 1.2k

a/n: sorry this took so long! the new semester started and since I’m a senior in college it’s gonna be a little crazy!! also, i'm sorry I kind of broke off from the prompt! find the list of prompts here

“Alone? For Christmas?” Jean asked you, his eyes wide as he did so. 

You shrugged. It’s not like you had chosen to be alone this holiday season, but with your father working all break, you figured you might as well stay in your small apartment. Besides, your roommate, Annie, would be visiting her father, so you would have the place to yourself.

“I don’t see the problem,” you admitted, the walk to Jean’s car seeming longer than ever. Despite your protesting, Jean was driving you home from the 4pm history class the two of you shared. Damn this winter weather.

“W-what?! You don’t see the-! You can’t be alone for Christmas!” Jean practically cried out, throwing his hands into the air in exasperation. 

The now exhausting conversation had started when Jean had begun telling you about his own Christmas plans. Mentioning how he would most likely go visit Sasha’s family again with Connie. It was their tradition, he would tell you. However, when asking about your plans, he did not like the answer he received.

“Jean it’s really ok. Annie will be out of town anyways. It’ll be nice not having to share the living quarters. Besides I’d much rather be alone at my place than sitting there at my dad’s. So can we please drop it?”

Jean sighed, but reluctantly nodded his head. 

There was a chill in the air on Christmas eve.  The snow that fell having no problem sticking to the ground, layering on top of one another until it was several inches thick. You had been bundled under a plethora of blankets while the heat in your apartment worked overtime. Jean has let all of your friends know about your Christmas plans, or lack there of, and now you were starting to regret declining Eren and Mikasa’s offer to come home with them. Especially since Carla made a mean Christmas dinner, or so you heard. The plate of place and bake Christmas cookies sat in front of you. 

They weren’t very good.

You only prayed that the copious amounts of sugar would knock you into a sugar coma that would last until the next day. Most places were closed, and probably would stay that way even a few days after Christmas due to the snow storm that was taking place outside. That being said, the lack of groceries at your place was starting to leave you feeling massively underprepared. Grocery shopping was not your forte. 

While debating if you wanted to pay the delivery fee in your favorite Chinese restaurant, your phone lit up from its place on your coffee table.

Jean: u awake?

You: do I ever sleep?

Jean: true

Jean: wyd

You: freezing to death

You: how’s Sasha’s?

You: did Connie sing the whole car ride there? rip to ur ears

Jean: I wouldn’t know, didn’t go

You were surprised to say the least. Why wouldn’t he go to Sasha’s? It was tradition wasn't it? 

Jean: coming over rn

Jean: damn there’s a shit ton of snow 

You knew there was no bother trying to stop the man from coming over. He was stubborn. Always had been. Instead your fingers hovered over the keyboard of your phone, unsure of what to say next.

Jean: do u want me to bring over groceries? connie bought way too much shit before he left fr 

You: yes pls ur a lifesaver

You: been eating christmas cookies all night 

You: also, please drive safe. I mean it. i’d be pissed at you if you died

Jean: <3

Deciding not to text the man while he was driving, you settled on making the living quarters look a little less like a tornado had ran through it, picking up and putting away any dirty dishes from earlier in the day.

Before too long, Jean was there. His arms draped with grocery bags, he wasn’t kidding when he said Connie may have gone a little crazy. However, you were more focused on how he looked. Jean had been dressed in what looked like a black turtleneck with a gray overcoat keeping him warm. How he always looked straight out of a fashion magazine amazed you. Meanwhile, you were wearing a pair of black sweats with mismatched cat socks on. And yes, they did have little ears on them. 

“Well are you gonna leave me in the hallway all night?” he joked, the smile evident on his face. 

Your face flushed as you realized you had zoned out. 

“Y-yeah, come in.” You stepped out of his way, ushering him inside. 

Jean immediately headed to your kitchen to put the groceries he had brought away. His familiarity with your apartment bringing a smile to your face. Jean shrugged off his overcoat, his muscles straining against the turtleneck that had been underneath. You couldn’t help but stare. It was no secret that your friend was a very attractive man. Not to mention he had the personality to match. His suave attitude, yet gentlemanly charm gaining the attention of many women whenever your friend group had their weekly outings.

“Helloooooo?” Jean waved his hand in front of you, bending slightly so he could meet your eyes. Snapping back to the present, you apologized quickly. 

“Sorry… what?”

“I asked if you’ve eaten? I can make something for us if you’d like.” Jean offered .

You nodded shyly, embarrassed you had been caught daydreaming again. “I’d like that…” 

Jean grinned, pushed up his sleeves and clapped. “Alrighty then!”

The two of you now sat on the maroon sectional located in the middle of your living room, your empty plates resting on the coffee table. 

“I just don’t understand how they forgot their kid at home!” You cried out, your legs tucked under yourself in an attempt to keep yourself warm. 

Jean let out a boisterous laugh, the sound music to your ears. “It’s just a movie! The whole point of Home Alone is being… ya know… home alone.”

You giggled, the harsh air providing the goosebumps on your arm a permanent residency. You shivered slightly despite the mountain of blankets you had been hoarding. 

“Come here.” Jean spoke softly.

“Huh?” 

“You’re cold.” He stated. “Just come here.”

Too cold to argue, you scooted over closer to Jean. His arm that had been resting on the back of the couch pulled you closer to him. You immediately felt relief, his body radiating enough heat for the both of you. You couldn’t help the sigh that fell from your mouth, nuzzling closer to the man without thinking. The tips of Jean’s ears turned a rosy shade of pink as you fell deeper into the man’s chest. 

You let the continuous stream of Christmas movies play lowly on the television. Neither you or Jean wanting to get up to find the remote and change it. Eventually, Jean felt your breath fall steady, the gentle sound of soft snores slipping from you as you slept soundly.

Without thinking, Jean shifted slowly, positioning himself in a more comfortable position, careful not to wake you as he did so. Finally comfortable Jean was able to follow suit, slipping into a warm, comfortable sleep. The soft sound of Christmas movies continued to play in the background for the rest of the night, counting down the hours until you and Jean would wake up and celebrate the holiday together. The first of many holidays together. And truthfully? Jean didn’t mind this being his new tradition. 

[nrhshm]

Hello! May I join the sake party too?? I've been pondering about Sanji and Mihawk (seperately) confession hcs, how do you think they may react??

*pours a drink and takes a seat* 🍾 🍻

Welcome traveler! Have a seat of course!! And here's your drink 🍾🍺

Enjoy the show~👌

`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`

Sanji / Mihawk confession headcannons:

° Reader is gn!

° SFW

° Spoiler free

Dracule Mihawk:

° The epitome of "knight in shining armor", add a tinge of dark acedamia to it. He's the dark knight, cold and calculating, you might even think he's another cyborg of the Navy, it takes time to crack that stoic exterior. Over time, you will.

° Mihawk will first come to realise his feelings when he sees you trying out his Yoru sword, swinging it like a darn profesional. He never knew you had a knack with handling swords! And he's a world class swordsman for gods sake!!

° By all means, anyone touching his belongings would never see the light of day again, but with you he just... couldn't. Slight redness begin to dust his cheeks, lips parted, world casted away as his eyes fix on you and ONLY you, he watches in admiration.

° Upon realization, he'd become very cautious, examining the situation from all angles. How would this eventually end? Is it the right time? Would it put you in more danger?? And most importantly, do you reciprocate his feelings?

° He'd start with the simplest approaches. Starts calling you "Darling", holds your hand much longer. If you're not next to him, his golden eyes would pierce through the crowd to find yours. When you two make eye contact, he quickly shifts away, the brim of his hat darkening his features. You'd probably fail to notice the bashful smile that he fails to hold back.

° *INSERT DRAMATIC MUSIC* You are being chased by bandits, slightly injured, but you can move. Those bastards are closing in on you, and you're trying your best to push yourself further, with no avail. It takes a second and the footsteps are suddenly gone. Familiar bulky arms wrap around your waist, lifting you up bridal style.

"A-Ah Mihawk! I can walk-"

"You're injured." His tone is unlike what you've seen before, eyes filled with bloodlust and murder, someone had the atrocity to hurt you? And get away with it? Not on his watch.

° The hinting process would take time, and if you're "a normal human being"-ly smart enough you'd quickly catch on. But if you're a wattpad y/n, then it'll take you or him getting cursed to your deathbeds and barely breathing out a desperate weak confession to knock some sense into you. Probably.

° The top of the castle, the moon directly above you, candles set in the perfect position. So traditionally arranged, Mihawk had it all planned out, he wants to make it as memorable as possible. His confession will probably sound like a wedding vow, but you're probably used to his slang by now.

° "Somewhere in my heart, beyond the walls of my pride, are raging feelings I don't know how to describe. Y/n darling, if I could have only one wish, stay by my side. For I swear on my soul and life that I would put your happiness above everything I consider valuable in this world. I will protect you even if it means tearing apart my own dignity, even if it means burning my own swords, or severing my own title. My love, will you accept me as your one and only? As your first and last? The luckiest man that'll have the chance to call you "mine"? Be mine, y/n. I love you."

° To summarise what I said, imagine an emo victorian version of Howl.

Sanji:

° Ah the infamous Prince of Moronica (*Zoro quotes*). This unique human being prioritises females above every morale in his life. He ravishes them with compliments, cooks them the finest meals, spends most of his "trying-to-find-ship-resources" time at flowershops, choosing the most fitting bouquet for his new eye catcher.

° You soon joined the crew. And with everyone's seemingly warm welcomes, Sanji's was the most expressive. You watched in amusement as his feet whirled like a tornado, scurrying from one female to another, then back to you.

"Aahhh Y/n-chwannn!!! Looking as BEAUTIFUL as ever today!!" He is truly your biggest cheerleader, of sometimes... absolutely no reason.

° But things in due course mutate, it would take a bit, but he'll eventually become aware of his sudden change in behaviour. The usual fanboying over Nami and Robin, or any other lady he meets still prevails. Not you though, not anymore.

° A relaxed subtle smile, a silent occasional daydreaming, serene gestures. Sanji doesn't desperately fawn over you anymore, doesn't give off his heart eyes when they land upon your figure. He doesn't even lash out at Zoro when you're next to him. No, this time it's geniune. This time it's REAL.

Vinsmoke Sanji of the Strawhat Pirates, has undoubtedly, hopelessly, fallen inlove with you.

° Your mere presence was as calming as the clear sky, your words instantly soothe him to the core. You make him forget all about his constant routine of anger. Instead of rushing around and showering you with praise, Sanji now converses deeply with you. You can talk to him about anything, whether it's the theory of darwin or that rock you recently found near the shore. Sanji is all ears, watching you in up-most fondness, eyes calm and relaxed, visually tracing the beautiful outline of your face.

° His feelings keep developing, he just doesn't know what to do!! Yes he's an expert with women. Yes he courted other ladies before and knows exactly how to approach the situation. But this is just- new, different. This never involved true authentic emotions!

° It takes a slip-by hint from Brook and a tough "advice" from Nami for the loverman to finally take action. Similar to Mihawk, his go-to plan is antiquity. He prepares a date night, setting up a suitable atmosphere for the rosy background he decorated, cooking his best dishes and placing down two elegant cups of red wine, he lets out a proud grin at his big accomplishment.

° The date starts well, surprisingly. The quiet chatter between you both, glasses clicking together, plates of juicy steakfries steaming profusely. Steak-!! Watch out for Luffy.

° Plates crashing, chairs thown into oblivion. Luffy leaps onto the table like a predator, devouring anything meat-able he gets his hands on. The poor boy has been hungry for hours, whilst his cook was busy preparing for his big night. You watch in surprise, your attire drenched in sauce and wine. On the other hand, Sanji was fuming, wet eye corners and grinding teeth. Luffy just ruined his most valuable moment, he wanted nothing but to shout, punch that idiot of a captain for his stupid shenanigans.

° You laugh, unexpectingly loving this whole scenario. And Sanji watches in awe, your laugh pacifying his whirlwind of rage. Next thing you know, Luffy is dragged away by his scolding navigator, and again you and Sanji are left alone.

° This was the perfect moment, and he won't waste it a second time. He contemplates his choice of words. What should he begin with? His years of mastering pick up lines should come in handy right now! He should start with a suave, profesional preamble.

Regardless, the only thing that came out of his mouth, was a three-worded phrase.

.

.

.

"I love you."

.

.

.

.

(I may have went a bit overboard with sanji-)

[idontknowreallywhy]

Thank you again for all the encouragement! Turns out when you get over the terror, sharing this stuff is rather fun :)

It’s all kicking off with work stuff so I might not get back to this for a bit… but here is there unedited first half of chapter 3… possibly. It might actually be another fic altogether but Virgil insisted this memory was important so I’m sure it’ll help make sense of the mystery eventually…

Music

It had been a fairly unremarkable post-tornado mission in Kansas, helping out the local recovery teams rescue the last few trapped souls from crumpled buildings. Somehow everyone had survived although there’d be a lot of people on crutches hobbling round the town centre for the next few weeks.

The only remarkable things were that the town centre in question was the closest to the the Tracy family ranch and that one of the few buildings which had come off unscathed and was being used as a shelter for those currently without was the very school that Scott, Virgil, John and Gordon had attended.

Virgil escorted the last batch of townsfolk into the school hall and hesitated in the doorway - Scott was going to be ages sorting through the paperwork with the major so he had to wait *somewhere* and the idea of returning to Two to sit on his own after this oddly emotional afternoon didn’t sit right - he wanted company. An elderly lady bustled over with a tray and he gratefully accepted the offer of a cup of coffee before realising that he wasn’t going to be able to hold it. Flustered, he shed the exo-suit in a quiet corner (which immediately ceased to be quiet as 15 small children crowded round to peer at it) and then clutched the warm mug and gazed around the familiar but somehow TINY surroundings. It seemed like almost nothing had changed except he felt like a giant. The gym climbing frame was still attached to the back wall, the small stage with podium was still in the same spot at the front and and just next to it, hmm that wasn’t there before, it looks like… OH…

Virgil made a beeline for the ancient upright piano and ran a shaking hand along the lid. There were a few more chunks out of the woodwork now, but it was definitely the same one that used to live in the music room! He wondered if… yep, the second key from the left still didn’t sound. Seems he was the only one ever to want to play a low Bb. He casually ran his left hand up a scale of B major and tapped the top B with the right and chuckled. It was *almost* in tune.

“Play us a tune, Mister!”

The kids had abandoned the exo-suit, concluding it was less interesting without the real life Thunderbird in it and had followed him across the hall. Virgil chuckled and tapped out the tune to an old theme by Barry Grant for a tv show he’d heard was having a resurgence amongst the kids. Then he paused, noticing the stain on several keys that had resulted from an old class mate opening a can of cola. He had a sudden, vivid picture of the formidable Ms Knighton walking over to his 8-year old self and, as he paused guiltily with his hands in mid-air she’d encouraged - “Virgil, an instrument is made to be played, please do continue, but… I intend to listen if you would permit it?” She’d come in to listen to him play several times afterwards but had never said anything more just nodded her approval as he finished. The support was of an unusual kind, but he’d felt it all the same. He was arrested by a sudden sense of guilt and loss as he absolutely had no idea what had become of her. He absentmindedly played a few phrases of that same Mozart piece he’d been working on back then but hadn’t really returned to for years.

“VIRGIL TRACY!!” An elderly lady wrapped in layers of blankets stood from her chair and pointed at him with a trembling hand but piercing stare.

TBC ;-)

Btw the tv theme he was playing starts at 0:30 of this video:

And the little snippet of Mozart is from 3:10 of this one:

[officerjennie]

ANOTHER FLUFFY DIALOGE BECAUSE WHO AM I IF I DON’T ASK FOR THIS JAMIE PLeaSE

“Would it be all right if I borrowed your sweater? It smells like you.”

Hng 🥺❤️

I wrote this at...some point? last month? Time is meaningless, idk what's going on, but. voila.

and the night was quiet around them

CW: None

Summary: As always, Geralt walks Jaskier home, but this time Jaskier has a question for him

Taglist: at the bottom - let me know if you want on/off it!

It was habit to walk Jaskier home by now. After every late night coffee date, sitting for hours into the night while Jaskier muttered to himself and practically pulled out his hair. Hot chocolate for Geralt and potfulls of the strongest bean juice they had for the grad student, as if it alone would drag Jaskier through each and every day.

The night was quiet. Geralt's hands in his pockets, Jaskier's arm in his. Few cars passed them by but they were in a nice part of town, so Jaskier didn't actually need company on his walk. But it made Geralt rest a little easier to see him home, whether on the phone if he wasn't around or in person.

"It's getting cold." Jaskier clung to him, more than a little whiny when he was tired. The bags under his eyes were getting more pronounced. At this point, they might become a permanent feature. 

"You've got a heated blanket at home. We're almost there."

"God, I do not want to know what time it is. Maybe they'll cancel class tomorrow." At Geralt's soft hum, Jaskier gave a wistful sigh, tilting his head back to stare up at the stars. "Could be a holiday. Or a tornado destroys the building. I'm really not that picky."

"Doubt both of us would forget a holiday."

"That mean the tornado is still on the menu?"

Jaskier's apartment was its own little separate building. As always, Geralt walked him all the way to his front door, leaning against the wall while Jaskier fumbled for his keys. His own wasn't that far away, just two streets down, so he'd be tucked into his own bed soon enough, crashing and more than a little thankful that he didn't have anywhere to be the next morning.

"G'night." Jaskier said it softly, and then stood there almost sheepish. It was odd enough for Geralt to cock his head, until Jaskier was squirming under his gaze.

“What is it?”

Some more squirming, and then Jaskier pouted, looking up at Geralt through his long lashes. “It’s cold in my apartment. Can I…borrow your sweater?”

“Instead of turning up the heater or using your blanket?” Geralt shook his head, crossing his arms as he waited for Jaskier to use a better excuse than that.

But, surprisingly, Jaskier didn’t try to come up with one. He huffed instead, stepping closer to wrap his arms around Geralt and bury his face into his chest. “No, it just…smells like you. Would help me sleep.”

Geralt’s words ran away from him. Tongue properly tied, mind screaming, and all he could do was push himself away from the wall and take off his sweater. He couldn’t look at Jaskier when he handed it to him, feeling his face burning, and it only got worse when Jaskier bounced on his feet to give his cheek a quick kiss goodnight.

The night was still quiet as Geralt made his own way home. Streets and roads empty, only the occasional stray cat and a dog barking behind a fence. But his heart was anything but quiet, racing away and pounding in his ears even after he was tucked into his own bed.

-

@fontegagrilledcheese @damnbert @mothmanismyuncle @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @jaskierswolf @oldandkinky @blooodymoon @kan0chan @silvermintnightprincess @flowercrown-bard @sharinalein @concussed-dragon @hayleynzlive @feral-jaskier @sweetiepieplum @stonedstargazer666 @deafeningnightcollection-things @luteandsword @kmuir1 @little-boats-on-a-lake @dani-dandelino-main

[hazel-of-sodor]

Day 25-Story:Legacy

Day 25 Storm

Other Stories 

Legacy

January 2008

Dorothy sat, watching the engine warm. It had been 52 years since there had been one of its kind had ran the railways, but tomorrow was the big day. Dorothy just knew Arthur would have loved her. Of course one didn't know for certain whether an engine was a female or not until it awoke, but she had a good feeling she was right. Many of the trust thought the engine would be male, but all the engines agreed with her, and they often seemed to have a sense about such things. 

Fifteen years of work, and It would end tomorrow. A new Peppercorn A1 would live and breathe for the first time in nearly seventy years, by all accounts there had nearly been a brawl at the NRM over who got to attend her steaming. Well... Other than Scotsman. The Lner A3 had all but adopted the engine from the moment the first frame was cut.

A flicker of color caught her attention. Her eyes widened, it was impossible! The engine hadn't even built up pressure yet!

Nonetheless another flicker flashed over the smokebox.

Dorothy smiled despite her racing heart, it seemed tomorrow wasn't soon enough for someone.

She stood slowly, "Get another engine here, and quick!" She called. A few of the volunteers looked up startled. She walked up to the engine and laid a hand on the buffer, "Shes waking up."

The volunteers sat there for a second before her words processed. Then they were nearly falling over themselves, scrambling into the sheds to call for another engine.

The flickers slowly grew stronger, minute before minute. A 125 pair rolled into the yard and stopped a short distance away, while a 801 watched curiously from the distant station platform.  

A volunteer ran out of the shed to her. "A steam excursion was nearby. They've agreed to divert."

A deep whistle resounded in the distance,  Dorothy smiled, she recognized the sound all too well. The whistle echoed again, much closer this time.

A long passenger train shot into the station, barely stopping at the end of the platform with the sound of screeching brakes. The large engine at its head was uncoupled quickly, the massive 6'8" drivers rolled the engine effortlessly across the yard. The volunteers stared in awe as the deep blue pacific came to a stop just in front of the waking engine. But he paid them no mind, focusing instead on the flickering smokebox in front of him. Buffer to buffer the engines shapes were nearly identical at a glance, showing their shared ancestry. 

Finally the flickering stopped as Tornado took her first breath. She resembled the engine before her, but sleeker, with a more rounded nose. Her eyes fluttered open slowly, before they locked onto the large engine before her.

The North Western's number four smile., "Hello young one, I am Gordon. I have been waiting so very long to meet you." A happy tear rolled down the old Pacifics cheek.

"Hello!" The young engine chirped happily, "You're very big!" She sounded in awe.  A cheer rose up around them as she spoke, causing the engine to look around in surprise.

Dorothy chuckled, "As are you young Tornado."

Tornado glanced down, noticing her for the first time. "Hi! Is that what I am? A tornado?"

Dorothy chuckled, "No my dear, Tornado is your name. You are a Peppercorn A1 pacific. A type of steam engine used by the LNER."

"Are you a A1 too?" Tornado asked Gordon curiosly.

"I was built a Gresley A1 my dear, a predecessor to your class." He smiled at her confused expression. "Your class is a later one, based on my own."

"Does that make you my brother?" Tornado asked curiously.

Gordon suddenly found it hard to speak past the lump in his throat, "Nothing would please me more little one."

He glanced down at Dorothy. " This is Mrs. Dorothy Mather, she was your designers wife. She is the leader of the team who built you."

"Hello!" Tornado said again. Dorothy chuckled at the energy of the young engine. She could tell this one would be a handful. As she stood between the first LNER Pacific and the last, she knew she wouldn't have her any other way.

[firesofdainix]

October 8: Pirate | Knight | "Hey, that's my sword!"

Something boring and a little heartwarming to prepare you for tomorrow’s prompt.

@morrotober

AO3 Version

*

School for Good and Evil AU… except I can’t remember what happened in the books

*

“And… BEGIN!” The deep voice of their teacher bellows, putting his arms down to signify the beginning of their duel.

Morro lets out a deep breath, brandishing his sword in his hands. He feels eyes watching him as he prepares himself physically, his stance shifting into a defensive position, whilst his own eyes are trained over to his opponent. In a single second, he and his opponent face each other, flashing their swords. One was as green as the aura of a ghost, the other red as fire. And then, in a single second, the winds attempting to overrule fire, immediately clash. He tries to slash at the young man right in front of him, but to his frustration, the other sidesteps to dodge his strike. All he wants, in this delegate life of his, is to take things fast. He attends to remember all of the lessons he is taught by their Sparring teacher, his words echoing deep in his mind. Strike at the openings. Hit diagonally. Do not hesitate. He was not the light breeze, he was the tornado winds, unmatched in strength and destruction, as he whizzes past Kai and, to finally finish this all, he points the apex of his sword’s blade on Kai’s back.

The brown-haired man’s breath hitches, before letting out a frustrated huff, apparently still not quite accepting that, out of all the finer men in this school, Morro Wu continues to reign supreme. Morro gives Kai a self-satisfied, proud smirk, intent on angering the student even more. This was successful when Kai looks as if he is about to drop his sword to the ground, then, thinking twice, he huffs and turns back around so that he would not see Morro’s face.

Their teacher, of course, claps his hands as a way to get their attention. Motioning a hand towards Morro, he speaks, calm, deep, and grand. “Morro Wu wins this duel.”

The rest of the students, dull, colorless, and insignificant, clap modestly. Only Kai’s subordinates at the back were not cheering for him. No matter— he did not need to partake in their opinions of him, anyway. He can completely go any day without someone not being, at the very least, satisfied with him when he has come to impress the teachers and his own gracious father with the way he is currently topping all of his classes (except, frustratingly, Good Deeds).

Morro, with a confident strut in his step, walks back to the bleachers, entering his mindscape as their professor calls Cole Brookstone to duel with Vinny Folson. Oh, poor Vinny. Seeing that his job here is done, his mind returns to the static recesses of his mind.

There were the sounds of shoes wearing on the hard ground below. The echoes of two young boys sigh as they try to win against one another. Even when Morro is not watching, not listening with all of his heart’s content, he can already visualize the clear winner between the two of them.

In the muffled crevices on his mind, he hears a yelp and a sword reverberating throughout the entire classroom. He heard his professor clap his hands and, with a mighty tremble in his voice, announce Cole Brookstone as the winner.

Yes, all was right in the world.

Morro Wu, legendary, future savior of Camelot and all the things that rule this land, is number one.

The rest… well, it will be clear they’d either become his sidekicks or morgrifs. Hopefully the former. He did not want the others to suffer simply as animalistic companions.

Sometimes, the wind would like to rest for a day. Perhaps civilization as we know it would not appreciate the winds taking their time of day to slack off from their job, but, Morro is allowed, correct? Not only did he maintain all the top spots of each subject — even Good Deeds, to his confusion — he is setting an example to the other Evers on how a proper Prince should act. Disregarding his rather unpredictable, rambunctious actions towards the Nevers and the concept of romancing princesses. He was fine being alone, being solo, as the future Ruler of Camelot. Whispers of the princes stating he will marry Hee-young since she’s the only one who can withstand his less-than-charming personality aggravates him.

He didn’t want to think about it.

Morro prefers to be concerned with other things than romance.

He must have completely missed something, because the next time he feels himself connecting back into this world he is in, is someone yanking the sword from his grip. Feeling his anger and irritation boil over, he glares at the one who disturbed him from his thoughts. “Hey, that’s my sword!”

Kai looks down at him, but not in the way other princes do. Rather, he raises a brow at Morro’s outburst, subsequently giving him back his sword after. He sighs as he throws his head back, “It’s time to go, you can space out in our room.”

Morro blinks at his roommate’s words, and he stands, although as gracefully as he does. Kai was not a friend, nor was he a companion. He was not a prince like the others; he hails from the commoner village outside of the Kingdoms, making his way from the thick forest that blocks out the night and day with the help of the School Master. He recalls Kai has a sister who is, unfortunately, Evil, and Morro could not help feeling bad about them. Kai seems he misses his sister, no matter what school they are in, and Morro wishes he too, has the same care in the world as Kai does. As he walks back towards Charity Tower, the dark-haired boy can feel the eyes of the princesses and other princes staring at him and Kai. He proceeds to walk faster, much to Kai’s irritation if the sigh he has just released was an indicator of any of his emotions.

Once they finally reach their room, Morro locks the door shut. He lets out a deep breath, slumping onto his mattress. Seeing that Kai still has not said anything, his green-gold eyes flit toward the figure of Kai, who was currently being engrossed in one of their textbooks. Which is strange; he has never seen him read a book, inclined to particularly dislike reading.

So, observing the strange phenomenon, he speaks. “What are you doing?”

Kai shrugs, “I’m sorry that I can’t be as Good as you.” The bitterness of his tone was contradictory to the nonchalance.

Morro huffs, ah, so it was about their studies, huh? It is well-known to everyone in this school that Kai Smith lags behind them, only excelling both in Good Deeds and in Swordsmanship as if he was made to study the blade. There were rumors that he would not belong in the world as a prince, preferring if he simply turned into an animal in their final years on the campus. The same rumor seems to be going around in the same vein in Evil, concerning his sister, Nya. It is one of those times Morro is inclined to believe that, for the first time ever, Wu and Garmadon made a mistake.

He immediately gets out of bed and walks toward Kai’s study table. Seeing him approaching, Kai frowns and closes the book he is currently reading in suspicion. “What do you think you’re doing?”

The dark-haired man shrugs. “I got nothing to do and I can cash in a favor or two from you.”

Kai stares at him. “What kind?”

Morro taps the book he is currently reading with his fingers, “If I… assist you,” He replaces the word ‘help’ with one of its other syllables, knowing full well Kai dislikes being helped. “Will you assist me, too, with my work on Good Deeds?” And Morro, too, hates being helped on. A simple trick or two can help him understand why all the answers he’s chosen for Good Deeds were wrong.

The other man considers his offer for a moment, staring at his face as if Morro would not back his promises. He feels offended by that prospect.

“Deal.” Kai pats the seat next to him, and Morro sits down to start this harboring task.

[writetorightthewritings]

101 Poetry Writing Prompts

1.The Untouchable: Something that will always be out of reach

2. 7 Days, 7 Lines: Write a poem where each line/sentence is about each day of last week

3. Grandma’s Kitchen: Focus on a single memory, or describe what you might imagine the typical grandmother’s kitchen to be like

4. Taste the Rainbow: What does your favorite color taste like?

5. Misfits: How it feels when you don’t belong in a group of others.

6. Stranger Conversations: Start the first line of your poem with a word or phrase from a recent passing conversation between you and someone you don’t know. 7. On the Field: Write from the perspective of a sports ball {Baseball, Soccer, Football, Basketball, Lacrosse, etc.} – think about what the sports ball might feel, see, hear, think, and experience with this poetry idea!

8. Street Signs: Take note of the words on signs and street names you pass while driving, walking, or riding the bus. Write a poem starting with one of these words you notice.

9. Cold water: What feelings do you associate with cold water? Maybe it’s a refreshing cold glass of water on a hot day, or maybe you imagine the feelings associated with being plunged into the icy river in the winter.

10. Ghostwriter: Imagine an invisible ghost picks up a pen and starts writing to you.

11. Lessons From Math Class: Write about a math concept, such as “you cannot divide by zero” or never-ending irrational numbers.

12. Instagram Wall: Open up either your own Instagram account or one of a friend/celebrity and write poetry based on the first picture you see.

13. Radio: Tune in to a radio station you don’t normally listen to, and write a poem inspired by the the first song or message you hear.

14. How To: Write a poem on how to do something mundane most people take for granted, such as how to tie your shoes, how to turn on a lamp, how to pour a cup of coffee.

15. Under 25 Words: Challenge yourself to write a poem that is no more than 25 words long.

16. Out of Order: Write about your feelings when there is an out of order sign on a vending machine.

17. Home Planet: Imagine you are from another planet, stuck on earth and longing for home.

18. Uncertainty: Think about a time in your life when you couldn’t make a decision, and write based on this.

19. Complete: Be inspired by a project or task be completed – whether it’s crossing something off the never-ending to-do list, or a project you have worked on for a long time.

20. Compare and Contrast Personality: What are some key differences and similarities between two people you know?

21. Goodbyes: Write about a time in your life you said goodbye to someone – this could be as simple as ending a mundane phone conversation, or harder goodbyes to close friends, family members, or former partners.

22. Imagine Weather Indoors: Perhaps a thunderstorm in the attic? A tornado in the kitchen?

23. Would You Rather? Write about something you don’t want to do, and what you would rather do instead.

24. Sound of Silence: Take some inspiration from the classic Simon & Garfunkel song and describe what silence sounds like.

25. Numbness: What’s it like to feel nothing at all?

26. Fabric Textures: Use different fiber textures, such as wool, silk, and cotton as a poetry writing prompt.

27. Anticipation: Write about the feelings you experience or things you notice while waiting for something.

28. Poison: Describe something toxic and its effects on a person.

29. Circus Performers: Write your poetry inspired by a circus performer – a trapeze artist, the clowns, the ringmaster, the animal trainers, etc.

30. Riding on the Bus: Write a poem based on a time you’ve traveled by bus – whether a school bus, around town, or a long distance trip to visit a certain destination.

31. Time Freeze: Imagine wherever you are right now that the clock stops and all the people in the world are frozen in place. What are they doing?

32. The Spice of Life: Choose a spice from your kitchen cabinet, and relate its flavor to an event that has happened recently in your daily life.

33. Parallel Universe: Imagine you, but in a completely different life based on making a different decision that impacted everything else.

34. Mad Scientist: Create a piece based on a science experiment going terribly, terribly wrong.

35. People You Have Known: Make each line about different people you have met but lost contact with over the years. These could be old friends, passed on family, etc.

36. Last Words: Use the last sentence from the nearest book as the inspiration for the first line of your poem.

37. Fix This: Think about something you own that is broken, and write about possible ways to fix it. Duct tape? A hammer and nails?

38. Suspicion: Pretend you are a detective and you have to narrow down the suspects.

39. Political News: Many famous poets found inspiration from the current politics in their time. Open up a newspaper or news website, and create inspired by the first news article you find.

40. The Letter D: Make a list of 5 words that start with all with the same letter, and then use these items throughout the lines of your verse. {This can be any letter, but for example sake: Daisy, Dishes, Desk, Darkness, Doubt}

41. Quite the Collection: Go to a museum, or look at museum galleries online. Draw your inspiration from collections of objects and artifacts from your favorite display. Examples: Pre-historic days, Egyptians, Art Galleries, etc.

42. Standing in Line: Think of a time you had to stand in line for something. Maybe you were waiting in a check-out line at the store, or you had to stand in line to enter a concert or event.

43. Junk Mail Prose: Take some inspiration from your latest junk mail. Maybe it’s a grocery store flyer announcing a sale on grapes, or an offer for a credit card.

44. Recipe: Write your poem in the form of a recipe. This can be for something tangible, such as a cake, or it can be a more abstract concept such as love or happiness. List ingredients and directions for mixing and tips for cooking up your concept to perfection.

45. Do you like sweaters? Some people love their coziness, others find them scratchy and too hot. Use your feelings about sweaters in a poem.

46. After Party: What is it like after all party guests go home?

47. Overgrown: Use Little Shop of Horrors for inspiration, or let your imagination run wild on what might happen if a plant or flower came to life or started spreading rapidly to take over the world.

48. Interference: Write a poem that is about someone or something coming in between you and your goals.

49. On Shaky Ground: Use an earthquake reference or metaphor in your poem.

50. Trust Issues: Can you trust someone you have doubted in the past?

51. Locked in a Jar: Imagine you are a tiny person, who has been captured and put into a jar for display or science.

52. Weirder Than Fiction: Think of the most unbelievable moment in your life, and write a poem about the experience.

53. Fast Food: Write a poem about fast food restaurants and experiences.

54. Unemployed: Write a poem about quitting or being fired from a job you depended on.

55. Boxes: What kinds of family secrets or stories might be hiding in that untouched box in the attic?

56. No One Understands: Write about what it feels like when no one understands or agrees with your opinion.

57. Criminal Minds: Write a poem from the perspective of a high-profile criminal who is always on the run from law enforcement.

58. Marathon Runner: Write a poem about what training you might be doing to accomplish a difficult challenge in your life.

59. Trapped: Write about an experience that made you feel trapped.

60. Passing the Church: Write a poem about noticing something interesting while passing by a church near your home.

61. Backseat Driver: Write about what it’s like to be doing something in your life and constantly being criticized while trying to move ahead.

62. Luster: Create a descriptive poem about something that has a soft glow or sheen to it.

63. Clipboard: Write a poem about someone who is all business like and set in their ways of following a system.

64. Doctor: Write a poem about receiving advice from a doctor.

65. First Car: Write an ode to your first car

66. Life Didn’t Go As a Planned: Write about a recent or memorable experience when nothing went according to plan.

67. Architect: Imagine you are hired to design a building for a humanitarian cause you are passionate about.

68. The Crazy Cat Hoarder: Write about someone who owns far too many cats.

69. Queen: Write a poem from the perspective of a queen.

70. Movie Character: Think of a recent movie you watched, and create a poem about one character specifically, or an interaction between two characters that was memorable.

71. Potential Energy: Write about an experience where you had a lot of potential for success, but failed.

72. Moonlight: Write about an experience in the moonlight.

73. Perfection: Write about trying to always keep everything perfect.

74. You Are Wrong: Write a poem where you tell someone they are wrong and why.

75. Sarcasm: Write a poem using sarcasm as a form of illustrating your point.

76. Don’t Cry: Write a poem about how not to cry when it’s hard to hold back the tears.

77. Listen Up: Write a poem telling someone they are better than they think they are.

78. Flipside: Find the good in something terrible.

79. Maybe They Had a Reason: Write a poem about someone doing something you don’t understand, and try to explain what reasons they might have had.

80. How to Drive: Write a poem that explains how to drive to a teenager.

81. Up & Down the Steps: Write a poem that includes the motion of going up or down a staircase

82. Basket Case: Has there ever been a time when you thought you might lose your mind? Jot your feelings and thoughts down in verse form.

83. Lucky Guess: Many times in our life we have to make a good guess for what is the best decision. Use this poetry idea to write about feelings related to guessing something right – or wrong.

84. Dear Reader: What audience enjoys reading the type of poetry you like to write? Craft a note to your potential audience that addresses their biggest fears, hopes, and dreams.

85. All or Nothing: Share your thoughts on absolutist thinking: when one’s beliefs are so set in stone there are no exceptions.

86. Ladders in the Sky: Imagine there are ladders that take you up to the clouds. What could be up there? What feelings do you have about climbing the ladders, or is their a mystery as to how they got there in the first place?

87. Always On My Mind: Compose a poem about what it’s like to always be thinking about someone or something.

88. Paranoia: What would it be like if you felt like someone was watching you but no one believed you?

89. Liar, Liar: How would you react to someone who lied to you?

90. Secret Word: What’s the magic word to unlock someone’s access to something?

91. For What It’s Worth: Use a valuable object in your home as inspiration as a poetry prompt idea.

92. Coming Home to Secrets: Imagine a person who puts on a good act to cover up a secret they deal with at home.

93. Productivity: Talk about your greatest struggles with time management and organization.

94. Defying Gravity: Use words that relate to being weightless and floating.

95. Signs of the Times: How has a place you are familiar with changed over the past 10 years?

96. Sleepless Nights: What ideas and feelings keep you up at night? What’s it like when you have to wake up in the morning on a night you can’t sleep?

97. You Can’t Fire Me, I Quit: Use one of the worst job related memories you can think of as a creative writing prompt.

98. By George: You can choose any name, but think of 3-5 notable figures or celebrities who share a common first name, and combine their personalities and physical characteristics into one piece of poetry. For example: George Washington, George Clooney, George Harrison.

99. Shelter: Write a poem about a time you were thankful for shelter from a storm.

100. Cafeteria: Create a poem inspired by the people who might be eating lunch in a cafeteria at school or at a hospital.

101. Dusty Musical Instruments: Base your poem around the plight of a musician who hasn’t picked up the guitar or touched a piano in years. (https://thinkwritten.com/poetry-prompts/)

[poohnotpiku]

Chapter 14 : Pooh & Mental Health

After a yet another disturbing phase,  there was no other topic that I could think of to write about,  other than Mental Health or Mental Well-Being….

It’s a topic I have no rights or authority to give a lecture on…aim is just to share a few experiences and give power to those who are aware of mental health needs and to help others to think about it, if they are yet to explore this labyrinth…

I have no intention to magnify a small non-consequential thing or demean a serious big issue for anyone….Mental health can mean anything to anyone…each individual has its own way to define it and maintain it…I am just sharing my thoughts here….please read them with an open mind….and forgive me if any word or a sentence hurts your sentiments….

Gone are the days when mental health issues were considered a taboo, especially in middle class world of Indians. There is still a lot of progress left but at least we have become accommodative of this issue. There was a time when individuals failed to understand the sufferings of their own mental being. I remember one of my aunts  who had suffered a lot in her life, used to come to our flat and make us open all the windows and peep her head out of the balcony rails and take deep breaths….At that time I couldn’t understand what was happening with her….many years later when life was a bit harsh and I started getting episodes of claustrophobia and anxiety attacks, I could just think of my aunt….I was able to understand what I was going through, I realized I needed help and felt bad that may be my aunt had been suffering too but never realized….

5yo son of my very close friend was diagnosed with anxiety issues in US…I was surprised coz I am not sure if in India this diagnosis could have been made. What I learnt was that kids also can face such situations and parents and teachers need to be aware of this. They need to support them and help them.

Mental Health follows the rule of ‘Age no bar’….

What I am trying to say is don’t be ashamed or afraid of accepting that you might need help. We all are dealing with these battles day in and out. While some realize it, others don’t. While some have built a strong shield, others are just withering away. While some are fighting it with full zeal, others are giving in. While some are in the acceptance phase, others are still in the denial phase….

Whatever be the case, we all need a support system. Support can come from anyone. Your faith in divinity or your best friend or your partner or an unknown stranger or a psychologist or your own self peeping out from the mirror! Support can come from any activity. Praying or meditation or yoga or music or long walks or long drives or movie with friends or reading or writing or eating good food or whatever….Seek out your support system, whenever you are in need. You might be in a dark tunnel with no signs of Light or an opening. Do not hesitate at all and light your own torch and start moving forward. There is no shame in looking and asking for help. Light awaits you just round the corner!!

Another important thing is ‘Acceptance’. All cannot be shiny and happy all the time. Life isn’t a rainbow alone. There are bound to be dark clouds but  they shall pass too. We all know fruit juice is good but people also say that eating fruits is better coz roughage of the pulp helps our guts. Similarly if you imagine life as a fruit, then just happiness juice wont help. You need to accept the hurdles too because these make you strong and wiser!

There will be peaceful rains but also hurricanes in life. Do not lose hope. Learn from people living in tornado or hurricane prone zones. One day all is fine, another day a hurricane blows away the roof from their heads or even destruct the entire house. They do not give up. Once the hurricane passes, they rebuild the roof or the house again. They do not give up. This is what life is. Ups and downs and roller coaster rides!

Kudos to all the fighters out there and strength to all who need help. If you do not help yourself, no one can help you. So, start seeking what needs to be sought!

A friend shared a poem with me recently, which inspired me a lot - ‘If’ by Rudyard Kipling. Quoting few lines from there.

----x----

If you can keep your head when all about you  

    Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,  

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

But make allowance for their doubting too;

………….

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

    With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,  

Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it…..

----xx----

 

 Finally ending with a phrase from one of my favourite songs : ‘Do pal k jeevan se, ek umr churani hai…’

Until next time, ciao!! Stay healthy!

[trinity-mia]

a story as endless as the ocean

the lightning thief

0.2 fruit ladies of death

warnings : mention of an abusive home life ( fuck gabe fr )

word count : 3.2k

0.2 Some Old Ladies Who Knit Socks Predict My Death

Throughout the last few weeks of school, I hardly even thought of Mrs. Dodds. I was way too busy stressing over a new photoshoot for the September cover of Vogue, completing the final few scenes needed for the upcoming season of The Walking Dead that would be released early the next year, and finishing off my final few assignments to make sure I maintained my 4.0 to keep my mind occupied with the thought of something that I very well could've convinced myself I dreamt up. 

She visited me in my sleep every night, though. I didn't have much time during my last days to think about her a lot, so I shoved it to the back of my mind, throwing myself into projects to keep myself distracted. But there she came, every night like clockwork— whether I was in bed in my dorm room or in another random hotel room— making my heart thunder in my chest and sending a chill up my spine. 

I might've been able to forget about it. I might've even been able to convince myself it had never happened, if I really tried— I'd done something similar before, at any rate. The only problem was Grover. He kept giving me worried looks and seemed to be on edge every time he was around me. Every time I'd ask him what was wrong, he'd tell me nothing and that he was fine. I would've believed him, too. The only problem with that is: Grover's an awful liar and couldn't fool me even if his life depended on it. 

Mrs. Kerr, who had supposedly been our calc teacher since Christmas, was a perky blonde woman and I had never seen her in my entire life, but she was a good teacher, so I went with it. 

The shitty weather continued; there were very few days it didn't rain. A thunderstorm ended up blowing out the windows of a few of my friends' dorms. Vivian, my senior roommate and one of the few non-fake people in this school, and I had gotten lucky. She was bubbly and on the cheer team with me, and I'd known her a few years before we would separate on graduation day. She had a boyfriend, Michah Newsome if I remembered correctly, who was already in college at LSU and she'd be joining him there, after the school year ended. 

A few days after the thunderstorm, the biggest tornado ever spotted in the Hudson Valley touched down only fifty miles from Yancy. Once we'd finished all of the units needed, our social studies teacher made us study the irregular amount of small planes that'd taken a dive into the Atlantic in the past few months. 

My own issues weren't getting any better— I felt more irritable than I'd ever been and even the tiniest of inconveniences had me snapping at the nearest person. Danny had gotten particularly aggravated with me and after one of our worse arguments, had me storming off of the set of The Avengers and almost too pissed off to go to Columbia Cheer tryouts the next day. 

Despite that, I couldn't wait for the year to be over so I'd get to see my mother again. I hadn't seen her since Christmas and that in and of itself was starting to take a toll on me. She calmed me down most of the time and whenever I had a problem I knew I could go to her about it, but without her near I couldn't very well do that. At the very least, I knew when I went to college I'd get to stay with her and wouldn't have classes all day, every day. 

Then again, that did mean I was going to have to be the bartender and the never-ending money supplier for my dickhead of a stepfather and his poker games, but I was willing to sacrifice that. 

I would miss Vivian and Grover, who'd been the best friends I'd met away from work. And I'd miss Mr. Brunner and his crazy-but-awesome way of teaching. I'd miss the view my dorm had and the smell of pine that always seemed to be in the air. 

Still not gonna stay. I'd rather hold up the sky. 

My Vogue shoot went well and the night before my Greek and Roman final, Vivian and I were blasting the Mean Girls soundtrack as loud as we could without getting in trouble with the teachers. 

"Ya know, we should probably be studying right now, don't you think?" Vivian asked me after 'Someone Gets Hurt' finished. 

"I thought the reason we were listening to Mean Girls was because we didn't want to study," I replied, turning off my speaker. "But you're right. We should probably study, at least a little."

I flopped down on my bed and stretched out across the whole thing in order to grab my backpack. 

"Ugh, I think I left my book in Brunner's class. Fuck, I'll be right back," I groaned and forced myself up while Vivian nodded as a reply. I stifled a yawn and made sure I had my key fob before heading in the direction of Mr. Brunner's classroom. 

Now this next part, please don't attack me for. I dare you to walk away when you hear one of your best friends talking with an adult about you. I don't normally eavesdrop, but I couldn't help myself. 

"I'm worried about Allie, sir," I heard Grover's voice once I was three steps away from the door handle. I froze and debated staying or running. I stayed. "She acts like she saw nothing. It's like she never even killed that Kindly One! And a Kindly One! In the school, right under our noses! She seems too calm for something like this."

"We might make things worse if we rush her. She's sixteen, much older than those her age would make it, an incredible feat, but it makes it more difficult—especially with her. She's got a career of her own, one that is already going to be difficult to hide with everything. She's established in the world. She's going to college next year instead of continuing high school. She'll be graduating on Friday after her final tomorrow and that only means she'll be much less understanding of it all," Mr. Brunner replied. 

"But the summer solstice deadline! What if we don't have time?"

"She may not even be involved. Let her enjoy her ignorance while she can."

"But sir, you've seen—!" 

"Grover, you haven't failed. She'll be fine, especially since she's made it this far. I worry about her, too, but she will be fine for a few more days. All we must worry about is keeping her alive until next fall—" 

My key fob fell from my hand before I could stop it. It shouldn't have made that loud of a noise, but with it being dead silent, it sounded like a gun being fired. My blood pulsed in my ears and I picked the key up and sprinted around the corner of the hall and into a random dark classroom before I could get caught. At that moment, the only thing I could think was about how lucky it was that I forgot to slip some tennis shoes on. My socks had muffled my sprinting. 

The sound of horse hooves hitting the ground entered the dead silent hallway and I held my breath. The sound stopped near the door of the classroom was in and I was almost certain I'd gotten caught, but then the sound echoed again, this time moving back in the way it came. 

"Nothing," Mr. Brunner muttered somewhere along the hallway. "My nerves haven't been right since the winter solstice."

"Neither have mine, but I could've sworn..." Grover said. 

"Get back to your dorm. You still have to take your final tomorrow, so you should get a good night's sleep."

"Ugh, don't remind me."

I was alone again. I waited a few extra minutes just to make sure I wasn't going to get caught before slowly leaving the classroom. I made sure not to make a noise as I closed the door and then booked it down the hallway back to my dorm. 

Once I got there I took a moment for myself before I walked in. Vivian looked up at me as I entered. 

"Hey, where's your book?" she asked.

"Not sure. It wasn't in Brunner's room, so I probably just left it somewhere," I lied. "Oh well. I think I'm gonna go ahead and go to bed, though. I'll be fine without studying. Plus, I graduate in two days, I want that to get here as quickly as possible," I finished, making sure to keep my voice even in order to make the lie believable. Vivi had always had a difficult time determining whether or not I was lying most of the time, anyway. 

"Okay," she replied, taking my words at face value. "'Night."

"'Night, Viv."

***

The next morning my Greek and Roman final went well enough and the next day, graduation went by even faster, though when our names were being called up for our diplomas it felt like I'd be there for another year. 

Yancy Academy's graduations didn't allow parents or family to come and watch the ceremony; maybe they knew most of the kids here had rich, busy parents and didn't want a large number of kids to have no one there. It was stupid, in my opinion, but whatever. Our audience was the rest of the school and they filmed the ceremony, just so the parents who cared could have something. 

Once the ceremony was over, I went to a few of the people I actually talked to, just to say goodbye to them. Most asked me what I was going to do over the summer and I gave a generic response. 

"Uh, probably fly a couple of places. I think I might be going to Bora Bora for a shoot. And I might have to go to California, too. Who knows, really?" Thankfully they'd taken that answer and left me alone. 

Grover and Vivian caught me as I was walking away from my Italian teacher, Mrs. R. 

"Allie! I'm shocked you made it through this whole year. You weren't technically even a senior, but you still had senioritis," Vivian joked. 

I gave her a sad smile. "I'm gonna miss you, Viv," I said and we both shared a hug before she left, "Want me to walk you to the bus stop, G? I have my Harley and my clothes are already at my mom's apartment, so I can't get on there with you. You're going into Manhattan, right?" 

"Yeah," Grover confirmed. "Uh... do you mind driving behind my bus? You can take me around Central Park since I've never been."

"I keep forgetting you told me you aren't from New York," I frowned. "I'll stay behind as long as I can."

He didn't like that answer (I knew from his frown) but nodded anyway. As he waited, I ran and grabbed my bike. I had taken my suitcase to my apartment yesterday, so I didn't have to deal with it on graduation day. I only had my Louis Vitton purse keeping an extra change of clothes with me. 

My bike rumbled loudly, but it was almost completely drowned out with all the noise coming from New York's traffic. The bus got there soon after I did, and I was relieved to finally get going. At the very least, I'd never have to step foot in another high school (barring any time I'd have to play a high school role, which I blatantly ignored).

I saw Grover sit in the very back of the bus and he smiled at me through the unusually large windows that the bus had. I smiled back and made sure my helmet was completely on before following the bus back to my home city. 

I kept noticing Grover would both look down the isles of the bus and then look back at me nervously. I tried not to think anything of it, but a bad feeling settled in my stomach and I was momentarily reminded of Mrs. Dodds. 

Suddenly, right before we got to the highway, a loud grinding noise and back smoke came from the Grayhound they were on and the driver immediately pulled over to the side. I stopped right behind it. 

Nothing happened for a few seconds and I had pulled my helmet off and walked over to the door. I saw the driver fiddle with something and then turned to announce something to the passengers. They all had gotten up, so I assumed it was something about them needing to get off. 

Grover was the last one off and he walked straight over to me. I led him away from the crowd and closer to where my bike was. After a few seconds of silence and a whole lot of nervous glances thrown towards the woods on our right, I got fed up. 

"Looking for kindly ones?" I asked him. He practically jumped out of his skin. 

"Wha- what do you mean?" Grover managed to stutter out. 

I rolled my eyes but confessed to overhearing him and Mr. Brunner talking about me the night before. 

"How much did you hear?" he said, and his eye twitched. 

I shrugged noncommittally. "Oh... not much. What's the summer solstice deadline?"

Another eye twitch, this one accompanied by a wince. "It's uh... I was just worried about you... and—"

"Grover."

"I just thought you'd been super stressed lately—"

"Grover! You're a really, really bad liar," I said, finally getting him to listen to me. 

His ears turned pink. He searched his pockets for a moment before pulling out a card from the front pocket of his flannel. It was a card, written in a cursive script and it took a moment, but I figured out what it said. 

Grover Underwood Keeper Half-Blood Hill Long Island, New York (800) 009-0009

"What's Half—"

"Don't say it out loud!" he yelled, drawing some attention and causing people to whisper as if just now realizing I was there. 

I saw a little girl, probably around nine, tug on the sleeve of her mother's shirt and not-so-discreetly whisper, "that's Allie Jackson!"

I grimaced and turned my attention back to Grover. "It's my, uh... summer address," he said. 

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Uh... okay? Why would I need this?" 

He blushed. "Look Allie... I've kinda been protecting you this whole school year..." Grover said, and though I could tell he wasn't lying, it didn't make sense. No one wanted to cross me, so I'd stuck up for him this whole school year. How had he been protecting me?

"What exactly have you been protecting me from?" I chose the most logical question. At least I'd know why instead of how. I looked around and I felt like I found my answer before he could tell me. 

It was a normal fruit stand on the other side of the road, with three old ladies sitting on the other side of it. They were all knitting something, but whoever it was for had to be much larger than your average person. Grover followed my gaze and gasped. 

The fruit actually looked really good, and I was tempted to go over and buy some, but something stopped me from doing so. I was fixated and couldn't really bring myself to move. Grover latched his hand on my arm, his nails digging into my skin. 

The three ladies were knitting socks, but they were the size of sweaters, so either they messed up, or I was missing a very important puzzle piece in this 10,000 piece puzzle.

They stared right back at me. 

I shifted my gaze and went to make a joke to Grover, but he looked terrified. There was no color in his face, which was weird because Grover was naturally tan. 

His nose twitched. "Allie. Come on. Get on the bus now," he said and almost didn't leave me any time to argue. 

"Uh, I'll take a hard pass on that one, G."

"They aren't looking at you, are they?" Grover whispered. 

"Yeah, they are. Funny, huh? Think they know me?"

"Please don't joke about this, Allie. Come on."

"I'm not going in there!" I opposed. "It's like a thousand degrees. I'd rather not deal with my hair poofing into a tangled, poofy mess!" 

I noticed the old lady in the middle had picked up a pair of solid gold scissors. The yarn had shifted, and the light now showed me that the yarn was two different colors; a neutral gray— not too light and not too dark— and a scarlet red, one that was so red it was almost brown. They were twisted together, in a weird, complex way, kind of reminding me of a complicated path in a forest or something. 

Grover's breath hitched and he whispered out another 'come on,' and ran to the bus. I found myself fixated again. I was supposed to see this. I think.

They were still watching me. I kept my eyes on the middle one, so I didn't miss a second of her cutting the two pieces of string. I could've sworn I heard the snip across all of the loud traffic. The other two balled up the rest of the string and the middle one held the cut pieces in the air. They weren't connected on one end and the gray piece seemed to be much shorter than the red. 

What the hell? I only looked away once Grover pried one of the bus's back doors open. The bus roared back to life at the same time. Feeling shiverish, like I'd just gotten the flu, I pulled my helmet on my head and swung my leg back over the bike. 

"What are you not telling me," I demanded once Grover opened the back window and stuck his head out of it. 

"What did you see?" He asked. 

"The middle one took out her scissors and snipped both pieces of string. What are you not telling me?" 

But the bus was starting and would be leaving soon, so I asked a better question. 

"Does this mean someone's going to die?" I asked, but he couldn't answer as the bus started going again and I had no choice but to follow behind. 

"Stay at the bus stop. Don't leave once the bus stops. Please," Grover pleaded. He started whispering to himself and then closed the back window. 

The last look he gave me was one that looked like he was picking out the flowers I'd like best on my grave. They'd be roses and sunflowers.

*    *    *

previous | next

SERIES M.LIST | MAIN M.LIST | TIPS

[lifeslittleinnuendos]

What's the hardest lesson life has taught you so far?

Love Hurts

Love hurts when you’re 4 years old and hungry. The lights from the upstairs bedroom at 2 in the afternoon are off, door closed, drapes pulled tight. Dark. Depressed. So she opened the fridge and pulled out the package of hot dogs, climbed onto the counter and put them into the microwave. A thousand explosions from inside as the skin burst open with the heat. She took the knife to cut it in pieces just the way mom did, and she watched as it slipped and sliced straight into her thumb, lodged in the skin, watching the river of blood trickling down her hand.

Love hurts when you’re 10 years old. In Nashville, at a daycare. Dropped off while your parents find help. Your younger brother terrified, screams and cries every time he’s left on his own. And so you spend the next 10 hours entertaining him, talking to him, playing with him. Exhausted. And every time you try to close your eyes his tears bring you back. And you spend the next decade of your life both protecting and hating him.

Love hurts when you’re sitting on the street corner under the tree. 16, without a license, all your eggs firmly planted into one basket, waiting for that boy to come back, to tell you that he loves you, to give a piece of himself back to you, and he never does because you’re asking him to be the float that keeps your head above water and no one is meant to bare that burden.

Love hurts when you’re 18 years old and getting ready to leave for college. No idea what lies ahead. All her friends are picking out college classes and what dorm stuff they’ll buy. Going to visit campuses on her own. She’s lost herself in someone else’s life so she doesn’t have to face what it means to spend the next 2 months without her mom again as she tries to put her life back together somewhere else, alone and terrified.

Love hurts when you’re 22. So desperate to feel something solid in her life that she climbs into a stranger’s car for the night. Skin on skin. Anything to keep the loneliness at bay. The next morning she wakes up to sheer panic. No money. No phone. No car. Hungover. Sliding out someone else’s bedroom window to walk across town and find home.

Love hurts at 24. Looking to see her value through the eyes of the boy in front of her. She let herself be rated 1-10. Not small enough. Not talented enough. Not driven. So she stopped eating. She kept drinking. And she moved through life as fast as she could. If she never stopped moving, the pain wouldn’t have a chance to knock her to her knees. Using every ounce of effort left in her body, she supported him through the end of his world until it finally took the last bit of integrity she possessed.

Love hurts at 32. Looking at the man she had built her life with and choosing forgiveness once again. Why? Another violation. Why couldn’t she find the anger centered inside her body. Hell, why couldn’t she find anything in her body but the river of intense longing, a cavern of abandonment in her chest. Left for another woman and choosing to try yet again.

Love hurts when you can’t find yourself. When you’re sitting at the stoplight on your way to work, and it hits you, hard, the wind pouring from your lungs like the sails unfurling in a hurricane. She couldn’t find herself. Where was her worth? She breathed in gasping for the oxygen to see her through. She emblazoned words on her rib cage so that every. Single. Time. She took off her shirt to see her naked body, it would be a reminder. “Know your worth.” The words rattling inside “we accept the love we think we deserve.”

Love still hurts at 36. But now she recognizes the pain has lapped at the edges, softening every side. She’s relearning that her value is intrinsic. Empathy and kindness, courage and bravery stand where once she was met with fear. Passion and vulnerability unearthed in each and every weathering storm. A deep knowing greets her from the inside as she stands very still in the tornado of the pulsing anxiety. Love hurts but maybe it’s meant too. Love will always hurt, but the secret is never to leave her own side. Hand on heart, one slow breath at a time, to know that she will always be enough and will never leave her side.

[mrmonster459]

Summer Robinson: Nightmare of Port Wentworth (Part One)

"Summer Robinson!" A goon shouted from the other side of my apartment door. “If you’re in there, open this door, now!"

"What's the rush?" I asked.

“Summer, you’re already in deep shit with my boss. If I have to get in there myself, I’m gonna mash up that pretty face of yours. Is that enough of a rush for you?”

“Nah, not really.” I said. “Futurama is on, and I’ve got a Tattooed Chef meal in the microwave. Can I see you in about half an hour?”

“That’s it.” He said as he kicked down my door.

And there he was; a 6’4, and jacked local mob enforcer. Pretty sure his street name was Chainz, which I thought was pretty stupid, but whatever.

Chainz reached into his pockets. One hand pulled out a six inch blade, the other pulled out a twelve inch extendable baton.

“You could’ve just let me in.” He said. “I could’ve just collected what you owe my boss, and been on my way. But I do love it when you slum trash put up a good fight, it makes my job so much more fun.”

He came at me and tried to hit me in the head with the baton. I ducked underneath, weaved around his arm, and then came back with a left hook that landed right in his gut.

He winced over in pain. He clearly had no idea how hard a smaller woman like me could hit.

Nonetheless, he clearly wasn’t out of the game. He then tried to stab me, but I blocked his arm, and pulled him in for a wrist lock that forced him to drop the knife.

“You little bitch.” He said as he then grabbed the back of my head and pushed me into a wall. From there, he landed a powerful haymaker across my face.

“Make no mistake, I will kill you tonight.” He said as he threw another punch. “But not before I put you through all the pain I can.”

I blocked his next punch, and then created space using a push kick. One I had a little room between us, I quickly spun around and threw a reverse side kick that landed directly in the right side of his rib cage.

“Damn.” He said as he stumbled back in pain. I could tell just by the way he was breathing that I broke at least one rib, maybe two or three.

And then, I finished him off by taking one step forward, twisting around, and throwing a powerful tornado kick that finished him off.

My neighbor, Vanessa Gutirrez, heard what was going on and came by.

“Are you alright?” She asked as she walked in.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I said. “I took a few hits, but I’m okay.’

She took one look at the unconscious thug and said “Need help getting him out of here?”

“No.” I said. “I actually wanted him to come, I need to ask him some questions about his boss.”

“Oh, I see.” She said. “In that case, let me get some duct tape.”

Vanessa always struck me as a no-nonsense type of woman. She was a Marine corps veteran, a mechanic (the only woman in her shop), and a big motorcycle enthusiast. Her daily life was to go to work, come home, do all her own maintenance in her apartment (our landlord was more than willing to do it for her, but she insisted on doing it herself), and relaxing with scotch and cigars.

“Here you go, kid.” She said as she tossed me a roll of duct tape.

“Thanks.” I said. “Mind helping me lift him up onto a chair?”

“No problem.” She said.

I should probably give you a little more context. Port Wentworth was a small, working class suburban town who’s two biggest industries were manufacturing, and organized crime. Mob bosses from the city would base themselves out here because they knew the police in Port Wentworth could be bought with a few hundred bucks, and the occasional night with a prostitute.

The one redeeming part of that shit town was that in Port Wentworth, poor people knew they had to look out for each other. Which is why I knew I could expect help from Vanessa.

Once we had our thug securely taped to a chair, Vanessa said “I’ll go get my power drill, we’ll need it to fix the door.” She said. “And then, we can crack some cold ones and talk about what you’re doing here.”

“Sounds good.” I said.

We knew it would take the loan shark a while to wake up, so we had time. First, we rescrewed the hinges on my door back into place. Then, she brought over a cold six pack and we hashed things out.

“Three ex-wives have taught me the value of a good case of beer.” She said as she popped open one of the cans and handed it to me. “So, talk to me; why’s a girl like you trying to get the attention of a loan shark’s boss? And how’d you beat him?”

“Because he killed my brother.” I said. “A longtime ago, but still, I never got over it.”

“When we were kids, we had nothing. Our Mom worked day-and-night at the diner just to keep us alive after our dad ran out on us. My brother joined the local mob hoping to make some extra money, even though I begged him not to.”

“It was fine for the first two years or so. He made enough money to where we wouldn’t go to bed hungry; even had enough to take us out for dinner on our birthdays. But then, everything changed when he was arrested for robbing a pharmacy that refused to pay the mob its protection fee.”

“The day after he signed a plea deal, he was found dead in his cell. Conveniently, the prison’s security cameras malfunctioned at the time, and they never found his killer.”

“I know they killed him; I know that they knew one of their members pleading guilty would be bad for their public image, so they had him killed before he had the chance to say anything that might have gotten them in trouble with the feds.”

“That was ten years ago, when I was just 14 years old; and ever since, I’ve been training myself to take revenge.”

“I dropped out of high school and worked two jobs to have enough money to start training, and boy did I train; I spent almost every second of my free time at boxing gyms, martial arts schools, and shooting ranges. By the time I was 17, I had black belts in taekwondo and Brazilian jiu-jitsu, and had won three amateur boxing tournaments. By the time I was 21, I won a statewide pistol shooting tournament and a statewide rifle shooting tournament.”

“And then, a month ago, on the tenth anniversary of the day he was killed, I decided to finally get my revenge.” I explained. “I found out where the mob loaned out money, took out two grand, and never paid any of it back, knowing they’d send one of these guys after me. Now, it’s all a question of how I can take out his boss.”

“Well damn.” Vanessa said. “I only got one question; how can I help?”

“Helping me interrogate him once he wakes up would be a good start.” I answered.

Once he got up, the first thing out of his mouth was “I’ll give you whatever you want, just don’t kill me.”

“Oh, you’re definitely right about the first part.” I said as I turned on my electric carving knife. “You will give me all the information I want. As for me not killing you, that’ll depend on if I’m satisfied with what you give me or not?”

“Okay, okay.” He said. “Please, just tell me what you want to know?”

“I want to know where I can find your boss.” I asked.

“My boss, Mr. Johnston, works out of the Matheson Distribution center.” He said. “You know, the big grey building over on 32nd street.”

“I’m familiar.” I said.

“That’s where Mr Johnston’s office is.” He said. “But if you think you can get to him, you’re in for a Hell of a surprise. The ‘night shift’ crew is actually just a select team of really tough enforcers who get paid extra to be Mr. Johnston’s personal bodyguards. You’re not getting past them without a small army.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that.” I said as I made a new piece of duct tape.

“Hey, what are you doing now?”

“Now, I’m putting this over your mouth so you don’t scream.” I explained. “Not that anyone in this shithole would come help you, but still, better safe than sorry.”

“If your information is good, then I’ll come back, untie you, and set you free. After tonight, it’s not like you’ll have a boss to collect debt for anyway.”

“Or, if your information ends up being a bunch of bullshit, I’m gonna come back.” I said as I picked up my electric knife. “And make sure you tell the truth next time.”

I then turned to Vanessa and said “You don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to. This is obviously going to be dangerous, I can understand if you don’t want to come with me.”

“You kidding?” Vanessa asked. “This sounds like the most fun I’ve had since my dishonorable discharge.”

“Alright alright then.” I said. “Let me load up some of my guns, and then we’ll head out.”

Half an hour later, we drove out to the plant with a sedan full of loaded guns. That being said, there was one very specific weapon Vanessa insisted on taking.

“Summer, trust me, you want to take out the first dude with this.” She said as she showed me her crossbow. “It’ll be quick and, if you hit him in the first place, quiet. It’ll give us the chance to take out at least one before the others catch onto us.”

“Yeah, just one problem.” I said. “I’ve never fired a crossbow before.”

“Well, I have.” Vanessa said. “My second wife was a turkey hunter, we’d go crossbow hunting all the time.”

“Great.” I said. “You take the first shot, then I’ll sneak up and get in range of the others.”

“Deal.” Vanessa said.

At any given point, there was at least one guy sitting at the end of the loading dock, smoking a cigarette. If you were just driving by as an onlooker, you’d think he was just a night shift employee taking a smoke break. But once we knew that this whole joint was just a front, it was obvious that he was a guard on rotation, stationed there to watch for anyone approaching the building.

There was a locked gate, but nothing we couldn’t get through with bolt cutters. If this were a normal robbery, I’d be worried about getting seen on a security camera, but mobsters tended not to want any footage of their comings-and-goings to exist.

We approached the building, and once we were in range, Vanessa whispered “Get ready.” and I silently ran to the side of the building. Then, Vanessa shot a bolt that landed right the center of his neck.

He spent his last few moments trying to scream for help, but he couldn’t. And just seconds later, he collapsed on the ground, dead as can be.

Then, I ran up to the building, with a shotgun in hand. I opened the door, and made my way inside.

“What are you doing?” Someone asked. “Your shift isn’t over until eleven…”

Then, he saw that I was not the same guard that was now lying dead on the concrete outside. But before he could do anything, I filled his face with buckshot.

Before his body even hit the ground, I could hear two more coming my way from behind. I ran to take cover behind a forklift, and once they were in range, I fired two shots.

One of them was an instant kill; but the other only grazed his arm. He then took cover of his own behind a shipping container and shouted "All hands on deck, we have a hostile in the unloading area."

I heard guns being cooked and footsteps headed in my direction. I fired three more shots, and then ran out of shells. I didn't have time to reload, so I then drew my semi-auto handgun and kept moving.

I was able to get three shots off before getting overwhelmed and having to take cover again.

"Surround her." One of the thugs shouted, and the thugs dashed to positions around me. I was able to get off three more shots, killing two of them, but I couldn't get most of them. And by my counts, there were another eight.

I had no choice but to stay covered and shoot as best I could, but it wasn't enough. Just from what I could see, there were still nine of them, and most were armed. Ultimately, I just ran out of ammo.

"Alright, I surrender." I said as I put my hands up. I was taking a big risk, but it was my only option left.

"Cuff her, and bring her to the boss." A thug shouted. "He'll want to deal with her personally."

Two of them came in close to grab me. I then sidekicked one in the chest and punched another in the face before darting away.

But it didn't work. They grabbed me, pulled me to the floor, and kicked me in the head. "You're not getting out of here that easy."

And then, a man in a suit came out and said "Before I slice you to pieces, I want to know. Why did you want to kill me? I have no idea who you even are."

"Thomas Robinson." I said. "Do you know that name?"

"No." He answered.

"Yeah, figured." I said. "He was my older brother. Ten years ago, he was a new recruit in your gang. Your gang landed him in federal jail, where he was killed in the showers before he had the chance to strike a plea bargain. I came here for revenge."

"Well, you ain't getting it." He said as he pulled a knife out of his pocket.

Moments before I was gonna get stabbed, Vanessa burst in with an AK-47. She then fired at the two goons holding me in place before some of the others started firing back at her with handguns.

The mob boss tried to stab me, but I blocked his arm, and then threw an uppercut that landed right across his jaw.

While Vanessa kept firing at the remaining goons, I continued fighting them close quarters. I charged at one of them, grabbed his gun with one hand, and then used my other hand to punch him in the stomach. Another thug came at me, but I stopped him with a side kick before knocking him out with a crescent kick.

Four unarmed thugs then faced me. One of them tried to grab me around my back, but I back elbowed him before raising my foot and delivering a powerful back kick right to his nuts.

Another two of them came at me. One got in a powerful right hook that sent me stumbling into a wall. The other guy tried to roundhouse kick me, but I ducked out of the way, and he ended up slamming his foot against the bricks. I then grabbed him and made him fall over on his head, then turned to his buddy, pulled him in, and then slammed his head against the same wall he just slammed me into.

There was just one left. Only problem is that he was the biggest guy yet. Probably the smartest too; he'd watched his friends get the asses kicked, and now knew all my moves.

I threw a jab-cross-roundkick combo at him. He blocked every single strike. Then, he pulled me in close and shot a powerful knee strike right at my torso.

I ducked down, grabbed his leg, and took him to the ground. I was running on fumes at this point, I couldn't keep punching and kicking him, my only chance of winning was to subdue him.

Before he could try to get up, I was choking him out with my legs and putting him through a powerful armbar. After about thirty seconds or so, I was decently sure that he had succumbed to brain damage from lack of oxygen, and I left him there.

Mr. Johnston tried to run away, but I grabbed him by his shirt collar and threw him against the wall.

"I'll give you anything you want." He said. "Money, drugs, I've got it all."

"Buddy, all I want is you to be gone." I said as I stabbed him with the same knife he tried to stab me with.

By the time I was done with him, Vanessa had already finished mowing down the others. Once we were sure it was safe, we ran up to each other.

“You okay?” She asked me.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I said.

“Did you get the boss?”

“Yes, I killed him with his own knife.” I answered.

“So, what now?” Vanessa asked. “You feeling satisfied now that you’ve gotten your revenge?”

“Not really.” I asked. “There’s still plenty of other scumbags like him in this town. What do you say we make this a permanent gig; you and me versus all of them?”

“Count me in.” She said as she lit a cigar. “I know of a pimp who could use a good beating.”

[kkusuka]

(i had to repost lol- it wasn’t showing up on my page)

this the request: part 3 of thiccy gf hcs ??? with kuroo, terushima, sakusa, and daichi and/or atsumu 🥺👉🏽👈🏽 i must be fed

i understand your need for them

and as a member of the thunder-thigh committee, i am happy to write about my fellow sexy women! (another 4:56 am ramble i refuse to delete)

part one

part 2 <3

i mixed this with this ask ;  Pt. 3 of the thicc af gf with Aone, Osamu, Kyotani, Daichi, Kuguri, and Terushima plz? 🥺

this got wayyyyyyyyy long

4, 685 words. my finger slipped?

Kuroo tetsuro

this guy has been trying to get you since first year

he’s that dedicated

and you didn’t even notice, he was just a flirty friend who helped you with science

(even when he would practically put you in his lap while he went over things)

lo and behold, he finally got his chance during the third year culture festival

yeah as in he waited a whole three years for this

Eh, once again, had a whole pan to make you see him as your great future husband, aka the haunted house (a good excuse to have you hold onto him)

He has to give it to class 2-4, the did a damn good job, it was scary

Long story short you fell on top of him, boobs in face hands-on ass

~heaven~

Mans actually asked you to be his girlfriend right there, groping you and murmuring between your boobs. (he wouldn't have gotten up if the next group wasn’t approaching.)

From then on he’d literally do anything for the ass

He’s a big simp and we all know it.

Like When you wear shorts he has to ‘pull them down’ aka feel you up while pulling the hem of your shorts down ever so slightly.

Or when he gets on a knee right behind you to ‘tie his shoe’, but the school shoes have no laces.

He could be a bit more creative and he wanted to look under your skirt.

When he wants to cut the bull shit he’ll just lift the back of your skirt and rub around for a but, to hell with all the other kids in the hallway.

(did I mention that he puts things on the highest shelves so he can walk up behind you and practically dry hump you.)

Speaking of simp nation

You can't really wear anything without setting him off

Shorts drive him absolutely nuts, it's insane. But it isn't his fault that most of your shorts are spandex that cut off right at the beginning of your thighs, it's like a homemade booty lifter. He just can’t help but wanting to cop a feel.

Or the color red in general. It is ridiculous, the guy rips everything when he tries to take it off too. So that stunning red cocktail dress with the lace-up sides was not unwearable, and you only had it on for like 2 hours. And that was only because it was a friend's 18th birthday party you were both invited to.

(thanks to kuroo not letting you out of his arms you both were late and left early.)

((in his defense you looked like a full course meal and it was giving him severe blue balls, and he’s only seen you for a few minutes))

Halloween, you know. the one night you could dress up as anything. any you decide to go as a cat-girl in a maid costume. And you expected him to just take that sitting down? Hell no. the red thigh highs AND the corset middle? You're lucky it lasted as long as it did.

That my dear was bravery. His color. A cat. And a short skirt. With thigh highs!

And so, he did what he did all those other times, dragged you to sit on his lap, and opening your thighs, and like a good girl you’ll let him

If you could already tell, he gives no shits to whos watching, let ‘em see (they really never do but you get the point)

He’s also a prime thigh groper, especially when he wants to keep your legs open, he also loves thigh hic

Terushima Yuji

Another shower-offer

You were already he's so why can't he let everyone know?

Speaking of you being his, he doesn't tell people how you guys don’t together, with good reason considering you practically beat him up

Not really but that’s what he calls it, basically he tried to get with one of your friends at a party.

She just happens to not be interested in men and has a wonderful girlfriend, so she was uncomfortable but couldn't tell him to leave her alone

So you took fate into your own hands, literally, you stole Fate from class 3-2’s drink and poured it on him before slapping him and telling him about how he was a pig.

And he fell in love, you looked like an angel, a really hot angel, it didn't help you were in a white dress either

And from then on he literally once or twice, got on his knees for you, asking to give him a chance.

Honestly, it got annoying, so you just agreed to make it go away. It did, but you also gained a perv of a boyfriend who has an insatiable love for your lower half

He’s a simple creature, do take caution of his fragile being

So that means all those times you bend over in front of him he was slowly cracking and trying to figure out where the nearest storage closet is.

He thought he was having heart palpitations when he saw you in the damn dress again, apparently, he didn't see all of it. Specifically the v-neck top, and the fact it only went to the end of your ass. Needless to say, he made sure to walk behind you on every staircase that you went on

Another set off is yoga legging, like the lululemon ones, that people wear all the time. They fit you great, really really great. They were supposed to work out in them???? Why were they so skin-tight????? And he also figured out that you wore things because of them. Instant nut.

How you ask, simple.

One time he saw your underwear line through the pants and he pointed them out, they did make it seem like your ass was super soft so he saw his chance and took it.

So the next time you wore them and he didn't see the lines he was like ??????

And thus began the “Yuji hunt for lineless underwear” and he found the thongs

And you received the fucking of your life soon after.

Oh! And there’s any time you go to the beach. Literally every time.

No cap.

The first time was when you wore a red one-piece and he practically went feral. It wasn't really a one-piece if it was see-through and had the lowest neckline on the planet.

Everyone was looking at you.

He practically fucked you on the beach but held off until you got back to the hotel room.

He’s way more forward when he wants to fuck, if you could imagine. He’ll just walk up to you and tell you he wants to get some, like right now.

If you can even ignore him, he’ll throw an arm around your waist and grope around your legs, all the way to the apex.

It is also not below him to try and get you off while still wearing underwear that he will be taking after.

(i didn't say anything about his stash off orgasm ruined underwear? My bad.)

Sakusa Kiyoomi

Going beyond the fact he even has a girlfriend, y’know considering, but the fact that no one knew who you were until you showed up at nationals to cheer him on

(atsumu was even starting to think that you didn't exist and that poor kiyoomi just imagined you up, so can imagine his shock when you ran up to said boy after they won)

The whole dating thing wasn't the shocking part; it was the fact that you looked like you walked off of the Milan runway.

And you were wearing leggings and sakusa's jacket, all of a sudden everyone was interested in how that happened

It was a kind of a boring story, someone had spilled coffee in a shop that you both happen to be in

And he watched you offer the man the same disinfectant wipes that he uses!

And in the most sakusa way possible he followed you out of the shop and tried to talk to you.

An exchange of numbers and many awkward conversations (and boners) later, you were a couple.

Back to that hug, like the many others, he's let you have, it’s all just to feel how soft you were

But poor touch -starved sakusa doesn't know what to do with any of these pent up feelings.

And he has a loooooooot of them.

Multiple occasions have shaped the poor germ-boy into the horny-tornado he has become

so he’s not really into what you’re wearing, it’s more about what you’re doing

like when you wore the mask he bought you to one of his games, and you wore one of his alternate uniforms, but the kicker was how you stayed away from everyone and didn’t let a single person near you (or his shirt)

or when you helped him clean his dorm when he was doing his weekly deep clean

or when the two of you washed the dishes while trying to do one of those “try not to sing” challenges

(is it normal to get a boner when your girlfriend helps you clean? no?)

but, as much as he tries to remain emotionless on the subject, there are multiple exceptions to the “it’s not what she wears” whole thing

Like that violet puffy skirt, you wore to a study fate, the one with the white sweater? That one, the same one that he could see your panties, from anywhere he sat. and Every time you got up you would have to smooth it down to make the creases go down, but it was only ever really giving him a good idea about the shape of your ass.

(if he sees you in that skirt again he’s just going to fuck you in it)

The lesser-known horny-inducer, since he made you take it off within the first five minutes, was a dress! What kind of dress? A neon yellow see-through mesh dress. The bottom wasn’t what got him though, it was the fact that your white bra was clearly seen under the mesh top. Or maybe it was the way the skirt made your waist look super small, and how your hips looked so round and squeezable.

Yeah, no one else could experience you in that.

Not to sound like this, but sakusa is still averse to touch

BUT BUT BUT

That goes out the window when he wants to dance the devil's tango with you.

Mr. His way or no way shows up,  he does it every so slightly different

If it’s just the two of you, he’ll put a hand on your shoulder and he’ll push you to your knees. And he’ll pet your head and tell you what’s about to happen and advise you to listen like a good girl.

But in the instance you are in the presence of others, he’ll stand behind you and bring you super close to him, ass to dick. (maybe he’ll grind into you a bit, just to convince you to follow him) and he’ll throw a few words in about how much of a bitch in heat you are for getting turned on in front of all of these people.

It’s best to just do what he wants before he makes you cum in your underwear.

Daichi Sawamura

oh my

you guys are the power thigh couple

powerful and defined mixed with soft and pillowy

In Fact, that’s literally how the two of you met, thanks to Tanaka and Nishinoya of course.

(let’s just pretend karasuno has a cheer squad, and you just happened to be the captain of said team)

So basically you were doing a favor for the student council, and you were supposed to ask how many third years, managers included, were on each team and each club in the school

Easy! Turns out not so much. You were still in your cheer practice uniform, which was the shortest spandex ever made, and a Karasuno school t-shirt that was ever so slightly too tight.

Anyway, you make it to the gym and open the door, and the little one, Yachi, saw you and literally screamed. (she was right by the door), and that alerted everyone else in the gym, which led to the bald boy and his short companion pushing you further into the gym.

But in the better sense, it did gain the attention of the captain! Just the exact moment he was in front of you someone pushed; your back and within a second, in some miracle like way, you both ended up on the floor and he ended up planked on top of you with a leg between your spread thighs.

Almost kissing nonetheless.

Then, like the gentleman he was, he got off and asked you if you alright and kneeled down and let you use his shoulder to try and stand back up.

You did get up, for a split second, Daichi still kneeling letting you use him as a step stool when a certain red-head was flung right into you and you went toppling forward.

Onto Daichi.

Onto Daichi's face.

Your thighs around his head.

His hands-on your ass.

Hand in his hair.  

He could sit there forever, you were frozen, everyone else was frozen.

You eventually climbed off and asked how many third years there were. But he just sat there, his hands hadn’t moved either, luckily Suga answered and you were on your way.

And Daichi still didn’t move, after that incident, you had begun to see him everywhere, and eventually, he just cut the shit and asked you out.

Daddy Daichi likes seeing you in literally anything from sweatshirts to lingerie.

His favorite was the brown buttoned pencil skirt and the white blouse, that you wore to a date. You were kind of overdressed for the ramen shop and after a walk, but he didn't even care. He was so thrown off by how turned on he was he couldn't speak in full sentences.

An example:

“Yeah, the food here is- boob, I-I mean great, not boob, great, yes, great.”

The second.

.

.

.

.

.

Was a bathrobe.

Can you see where I'm going with that? Simply you look hot.

His favorite part of the night was ripping it off of you.

And like the first time you met, he had his head in your thighs <3

Atsumu Miya

You met poor atsumu at a party.

He tried to shoot his shot, y’know he sees a cute lady he’s just gotta try and show you what you could be getting

he had it all planned, he was going to walk up behind you and run his hands over your delicious curves and ask you if you were in need of any help

he doesn’t take into account that a having a random guy just start groping you and pressing himself behind a girl was panic-inducing

so when he dropped your waist, you freaked out and may or may not have punched him in the dick

while he was in a. world of pain you age to figure out what the hell had just happened to you

then you noticed him on the floor, and when he noticed you looking at him he put this forced cocky smirk on and gave you a “how you doing”

You took pity on the poor creature and helped him up and got him some ice, then conversed with him for the majority of the rest of the night.

And he just hasn't left you alone since

(and, you learned this far later, that he went so far to tell Sakusa and Kageyama all about you and how amazing you are, and has even sent them- more than one- picture

But in other news, he’s very horny

So really all that means is he always has his hands on you

Like during practice breaks when you're allowed to come down and talk to him for a bit, give him some things, but it normally just consists of him sitting on the bench and you standing in front of him.

While his hands rest on your hips and his face is shoved into the valley between your breasts, and he just sits and listens to you as you brush a hand through his hair.

Or sometimes, if he had been having a rough time, he’ll just have his hands under your skirt and he’ll feel around for a bit while grumbling about how people cant hit his sets

But for being the possessive bastard he is, he sure likes letting you wear all those outfits

Like the booty shorts and tank top, you wore to bring them food during the summer training camp. That same camp that the two of you disappeared at and he came back looking like he had won the lottery.

Or the cute little red dress you wore to your anniversary date? The one that made him have a hard-on the entire time you were at dinner. He knows the waiter remembers, he also bets the waiter remembers seeing him fucking you in the car when his shift was over.

And that time you wore his jersey to bed and sent him a picture of it. It was such a good picture that he made it his lock screen for everyone to see.

He just likes looking at you tbh.

Aone Takanobu

you guys didn’t meet in some weird perverted way, it was actually really cute!

Not to sound creepy but he knew that you were in the garden club because you sat right in front of him in class

And since he didn't talk to anyone else in that class he was just content with listening, and so there he was

Standing outside of the garden club door holding his withering basil plant. Lost.

Lucky for him you were walking down the hallway and greeted him, looking all pretty and cute

You did help him realize that he was overwatering the basil and within a few weeks, it was back to life!

From that first time on, he came to the club room with you twice a week and walked home with you, just listening to all the random plant facts that you had harbored in your mind.

Eventually, with the help of the team, he asked you out, and you hugged him and said yes, and that was the beginning of the “oh god, y/n is way softer than I thought”

So he really just tries to be near you or be touching you at all times  

(i am also a firm believer that he likes to slow dance to classical music in your living room)

Like during lunch periods when you sit next to him and the second you finish eating hell push you to lean against him

And he’ll rub small circles on your hips and give you small innocent gropes

Or how he hugs your waist when you're doing literally anything, and he puts his head on top of your head while swaying

I can also tell you that Aone is a good singer

So he hums to you (I'm uwuing over my own headcanon lol)

He also really likes just running his hands along your body, so he likes when you wear the one-piece dresses so he has smooth sailing down your body

As a man of little words, he clearly has a more physical approach to getting you on the horny train

What I am trying to get at is that more often than not he literally just picks you up and carries you away.

Of course, that leaves you to come back to whatever you were doing.

That is after the cuddles and after sex ‘conversations’ about the dumbest things

Basically, he likes to hear you talk and he really likes being near.

Osamu Miya

He knew who you were

With a brother like atsumu, who never shuts up about you, it's hard not to

(Osamu is pretty sure atsumu had a picture of you next to his pillow. ew)

Anyway, the two of you just happened to share the same lunch block, and it also just happens to be the only period block that he was alone

No teammates and no especially close that he could hang out with

That meant he could either study or eat

Had he chose to eat, only to be met with the fact that atsumu had drained both of their lunch accounts for his flavor of the week

Poor baby stood there for a while just processing what was the worst news of his life

When you, a true angel among the evil, said that you would graciously pay for his food so that he didn't outlook so sad anymore

If he wasn’t holding an armful of onigiri he would have fallen on his knees and begged to whatever god was out there to let him keep you

But he settled for thanking you and spending the entire period with you, he even offered to share (for the first time in his life)

You complimented him on his flavor choice and he decided to keep you

He made sure to share his recipes with you and you tried to do the same

And somehow that evolved into you guys going on dates, much to atsumu’s distaste, and you guys were totally hitting it off

Osamu was your official biggest fan, he loved everything you do

But that means he wants to stay your biggest fan, and he knows that you’re pretty well known for boys thinking not so innocent things about you

Again being brothers with atsumu gave him this little sadistic streak

He lets you wear all of the revealing outfits and the bikinis, all for everyone to see

Everyone to see what belongs to him

Like at suna’s party he let you wear a black mini-skirt and a white off the shoulder long sleeved flowy shirt.

You looked good, and all the guys staring at you proved that point tenfold. Three guys had come up to you and tried to get you to go upstairs with them. And it was almost immediately shut down when they noticed the act you were sitting on your boyfriend.

Speaking of, he almost always has you in his lap.

Aww, cute! Not, he like grinding you down on him, that's also why he likes having you wear skirts, easy access to your ass, also a nice way to ensure that he could get more than a few gropes in when he wants

No, it's definitely the way he made you wear thigh highs to school one day and the shortest skirt you owned (like a school skirt) and walked behind you the entire day.

And he just reached behind you and lifted your skirt for the whole hallway to see, but mostly for him

He waists no time when he wants to fuck, he’ll just walk up to and open your legs while making out with either you or your neck.

And yes he has done that in front of atsumu

Who was warned to stay out of their room for a while.

Not to mention all those times he convince you to go to school with no underwear on just for the fun of it

(I didn't tell you this but those off the shoulder mini dresses drive him wild. On graduation day he pulled into a closet and had his way with you. I mean he did say that if you wore that dress he was going to do it, buuuuuut y’know….. yolo)

Kyotani Kentaro

We all know he’s a fighter, which means he gets hurt a lot, which in turn makes him a frequent face in the nurse's office

And who happens to be the nurse's niece? You of course!

And right after school, when your aunt takes her break and leaves you to take care of the office alone

Right after school is also when Kyotani always comes in.

(it’s not like he knew that you would be there alone, and that meant that you had to deal with him and heal him up. And it also is not like he started the fight so he could come here and see you. No not that)

Who am I kidding it was like that.

It was totally like that.

Your hands were just so soft when they put the bandages on and you have to bend down to get the wrapping.

He had a crush, that's what iwaizumi said, and after googling what the symptoms of a crush were he was sure

So with the help of the third years, aka Oikawa just having Iwaizumi repeat what he wanted to say, they had a plan

And the next time he was in the office he asked if you wanted to see a movie with him, it was so cute and he looked so shy

It would have been perfect if after five seconds he tried to take it back, you still went on the date with him though

He was happy.

Angry boy likes hugs

And yes he does, no objections

So when he’s upset he’ll make these grabby hands at you and have you come over and stand with him

He shoves his chin on your shoulder and his hands squeezing your waist and you’ll rock back and forth until he calms down.

He’s also very aware of what you wear

Like how your skirt perfectly frames your legs. How the socks you wear make your legs look 10x longer, and make you look like you’re walking like a model.

Or the dark blue leggings you wore with his alternate jersey and you were cheering for him!

But nothing and I mean NOTHING gets him better than when you wear spandex shorts and one of his shirts. He goes feral every time.

This man is the CEO of picking you up and placing you on his lap, straddle style, and just going ham on you

Not to mention that sometimes when he’s really tired he’ll have you just sitting on his lap while he plays with your thighs

(he also likes playing with your waist and stomach, but he doesn't realize that he’s talking out loud so you can hear all of the “so soft”’s he lets out.

Kuguri

You were one of Mika's close friends so you were always just kind of around

It was a little get together that Daishou threw that really made you two close

It was a weird drinking game of sorts, and it had these teams, and you were out as a pair!

Somehow throughout the game, you guys got side-tracked and just ended up talking to each other the rest of the night

Eventually, you were convinced to go on a double date and the rest was history

He didn't even pay attention to what you wore that much until he heard a few rando kids in the locker room talking about it.

And that’s when he started thinking about just who he was dating

He first realized how round your ass was. Is it normal to look that good in leggings? No one else has ever looked that good to him. With that came his obsession with just touching your butt. He just grabs it or he’ll stop you from walking and palm it. Or he’ll rub circles into it.

(it's cute how intrigued he is by your butt)

Then came his obsession with your thighs. Mostly the way that they spread out when you sit. He didn't even understand why they were just so mesmerizing. They were so squishy too. He likes how they look in his hands-

Lastly was the waist thing. You aren't even sure what it is. He just likes putting his hands on your waist. Like a prom picture. Sometimes he’ll squeeze or run his hands along your sides. But he’s mostly stationary.

He also has this habit of just opening your legs and laying on your stomach.

He is just so into how soft you are.

[seriouslysnape]

To the Limit

__

Severus Snape x Fem. Reader

Warnings: Slight smut. Use of safeword. Language.

Request: Hi! Can u make Severus × Reader when the reader use the safe words for the first time because idk maybe it's too much for the reader that day or smth else you like..Thankyouu 💕💕 love ur writings btw ❤❤

A/N: Here we gooooooo. Reminder, everything is consensual.

Word Count: 2,947

“Okay, darling. Whatever you want.”

__

Severus has always been flexible in the bedroom. Yes, Severus Snape is versatile in the sheets and has more love making skills than you originally would’ve given him credit for. Sex with Severus can range anywhere from slow and careful where praising your body is his main objective, to fucking you so mercilessly that stars are dotting the back of your eyelids with each hard thrust.

Sometimes, you don’t have to establish what kind of theme your sessions will take on. If Severus comes home angry from a long, obnoxious day then you very well know that a rough fucking will get it out of his system. When you’ve just watched one of your favorite romantic drama Muggle movies that have sent you into tears, he knows that something more unhurried is in order so you are reminded of how much he loves you.

Other times though, there isn’t really anything that determines the kind of sex you’ll be having. If the mood is right for both of you, then you often will just figure it out from there. 

Severus’ return on Friday night from a long week of classes was coated with his desire for you. You could practically feel the hard sexual tension radiating off of his whole being. From the moment he walked in the door, you knew what tonight would hold for the both of you. More than likely, it’d be a whole lot of rutted fucking and orgasms until neither of you had any stamina left to give. Normally, a seed of excitement would be planted and begin to grow in your core at the thought of being touched by him, but you didn’t feel it this time. 

It had been a bad week to put it simply. Work was weighing you down and you had taken more hits than you were used to in a five day time period. Exhaustion had riddled you, and stress has gotten the best of you. Emotional breakdown was the only way you could describe how you were feeling. You really weren’t feeling up to what Severus wanted to do. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to deny him when his hands and lips were on you, moving to all his favorite places on you.

His voice was silky smooth in your ears as he uplifted you with how he had been thinking about you all day, and how he wanted to be with you when you weren’t around. It wasn’t Severus’ fault that you had a bad week, and it surely wasn’t all his fault that he was this turned on. The way he gripped your legs with his strong hands was an indicator that he wanted to go well into the night, which your tired state wasn’t a fan of. But you loved Severus, and you always wanted him to be happy and well pleased. So you figured you could handle a couple of coarse rounds to satisfy him.

Oh, how wrong you were.

Once access was granted, Severus leapt onto you without hesitation. A tornado of clothes being removed whirled around the room, your shirt and pants ended up on complete opposite sides of the room. Hot and unruly kisses were shared, marks were left on your necks, and no part of you went unattended. 

Admittedly, the first orgasm was actually enjoyable. Severus’ fingers were knuckle deep in your needy cunt and pumping vigorously as he found all the best spots. The strenuous activity melted some of the week’s stress from your conscience, your mind being stripped of all your worry as it clouded with ecstasy. Severus thrived off of the moans and noises of delight that he was drawing out of your throat, perfecting his movements to give you an even stronger release. Severus worked you to your finish as you came around his fingers, slicking them with arousal and relief. 

He left lazy kisses over your breasts while you took a moment to recover, preparing yourself for the next round that was undoubtedly on its way. Tiredness had plagued you long before Severus had even walked through the door, and you had suddenly been robbed of even more energy, so you were confident that you might not get a proper orgasm this second time. But the moment Severus slid you onto his dick and stretched your walls the way only he knew how to, you knew that you were going to cum whether you felt like you could handle it or not.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to. You loved seeing Severus so enraptured in waves of pleasure and gratification, but you were beyond fatigued. Still, you bounced up and down on his lap over and over again, your already sensitive clit throbbing with each rub of his fingers. Severus’ other hand guided your hip movements to meet the way he thrusted up into you, hitting your g-spot just right.

When you came this time, your sound of release was more of a strained cry than a content sound. Severus didn’t seem to notice, since he was too focused on the intoxicating feeling of filling you with his own finish. You popped off of him before he was even emptied out, the rest of his fluids landing on your inner thighs. You fell onto the bed next to him, your breathing much heavier than usual. 

You were totally tuckered out with absolutely no hope of another round. Your muscles ached and your bones were wiped out. Although, you felt a queasy feeling of despair when you saw that familiar look of lust in Severus’ eyes. He spoke lowly, his voice echoing in your ringing ears.

“I’m not through with you yet, love.” He purred.

Usually that would’ve sent a whole mess of arousal through you, but you were too worn out. But Severus usually didn’t last more than three rounds, so this would for sure be the last one. You thought you could push through so he could at least get his release, but this third go round wasn’t a good feeling for you at all.

With your arms above your head and the pillowcase below your head in your fingers’ death grip, you turned your head to the side to fight through his persistent hard fucking into you. On a better day, you’d be all over this and relishing every moment. But now your eyes were screwed tightly shut in discomfort, for each time you opened them Severus would only be able to see the whites of your eyes. The thumping heartbeat in your ears was deafening and your entire body was stiff and rigid, but not in a good way. You wanted to tough it out so at least Severus could finish, but it was just too much for you tonight. 

You had to tap out.

“Polyjuice!” You squeaked out, your voice raspy.

In an instant, you saw any expression of lust wiped straight from his face. He pulled out the millisecond that the word registered in his head, his face stricken with worry and concern at the first time use of your agreed safe word. Severus’ heart dropped at your whimpers of displeasure, his brain reeling and raking over what had gone wrong. 

“[Y/N], what’s wrong? What happened?” He asked frantically.

“I-I just...”

Shaky breaths and uncomfortable whines were the only noises you could seem to make. You sat up from where you were laying down, bringing your knees to your chest and hiding your face as you began to cry. Your emotions were all over the place, and it didn’t help that you were overstimulated and overworked. Severus went to pull you to him, but withdrew his hand. Upsetting you further would absolutely crush him, but he needed to know that you were okay.

“Can I touch you, darling?” He whispered out.

The yowl of approval was enough for him to feel fine with carefully wrapping his hand under your arm and dragging you across the mattress to where he was kneeling on the middle of the bed. He pulled the covers over your skin to keep you from getting cold from the loss of heat from being active. You buried your head into his bare chest, your tears leaking and falling down his skin. 

“I’m sorry, Sev. I’m really sorry.” You sobbed, your hair sticking to your sweaty skin.

“No, no, no. Don’t ever be sorry for telling me to stop when you’re not comfortable,” He reassured; “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” 

The shake of your head brought relief upon him, but he was still worried. He rocked you in his arms until your sobs died down enough to where you were coherent. Severus was getting ready to ask you once more what was wrong, shifting you so he could see your face. When moving you, his hand accidentally brushed against your swollen, sensitive clit and you wailed out pathetically. Severus’ pale face went even whiter.

“Oh, my love...I worked you too hard, didn’t I?” He queried.

Severus would always admit that sometimes he’d get into the zone and completely drown everything else out. He wouldn’t really be able to tell how hard he was pulling in and out. It was rare, but from time to time you’d have to ask him to soften his thrusts or slow his pace when he got too rowdy. But you had never asked him to stop completely until now. He feared that he had seriously pushed you over the edge this time.

“It’s not just that.” You confessed with a sniff.

Severus had drawn your head back to gaze into your bleary eyes. The tear tracks being swiped away with his thumbs as he cradled your face. 

“What is it then, sweetheart?” He asked with wonder.

A fresh set of salty tears pooled and fell down your cheeks, but for a different reason.

“I’ve had a horrible week. Nothing has gone right,” You explained croakily; “I wanted to make you feel good and I thought it might make me feel better...but I’m just exhausted and I couldn’t handle it tonight.”

You fell apart into another set of choking sobs and gut wrenching cries, prompting Severus to bring you back into his chest. He stroked your skin and left kisses so light that they were ghostly. 

“It’s alright, angel. I wish you had told me before that you weren’t feeling up to it,” He consoled; “You’re worth so much more than sex. I want you to tell me sooner next time if you’re uncomfortable.”

Your nod of understanding offered a wash of comfort over him that you were calming down steadily. He hated that this happened. He knew that was the whole reason for your established safe word for when things went south or things got dicey. He just never thought you’d ever have to use it. He felt absolutely terrible. 

“I’m sorry, Sevvy. I really wanted you to get off, I just-”

“Please don’t apologize for this. This is my fault. I should’ve seen how tired you were and how I was being overly hard,” He said; “I’m the one that should be sorry.”

The sniffles from your nose had increased as you tried to flush down all the drainage from your crying. Your tears had stopped as you sat up from his body, wiping at your cheeks with the back of your hand. The red blotches in your puffy eyes were pinging at Severus’ already guilty conscience. He saw the littered hickeys across your neck and breasts, and how your lips were swollen from his severe kisses. He had rocked your burnt out body to the max.

“I’ll tell you what. How about we go get cleaned up, and then we can get into bed. Then you can tell me about your week if so wish.” He suggested, cautiously guiding you off of the bed.

“I think I just want to get a bath and get some sleep.” You said, barely able to stand on your wobbly legs.

“Okay, darling. Whatever you want.” He smiled softly, hoping it’d offer you some kind of solace. 

Severus ran you a hot bath, filling it with all of your favorite scents and smells. Your stance was still despite your shaking legs, and you seemed to be staring off into an endless trance. You slipped into the tub when it was ready, sinking down just below your nose under the bubbles. Normally, Severus would be sitting across from you or you’d be snuggled up on his lap, but he wanted you to have some space for a bit. You were honestly too tired to object. 

He simply casted a charm to freshen himself up, finding and selecting his favorite pair of sweatpants and soft shirt for you to change into. Your eyes were closed, and you had just begun to drift off to sleep when he re-entered the bathroom, changed into some casual day time wear, despite how late it was.

“Here are some clean clothes for you, pretty girl.” He remarked, setting the folded sweats and shirt on the end of the tub for you to get when you got out.

You only gave a light nod as a response, your eyes following him as he stood awkwardly. He was unsure of what to do for you now. He thought that you might want the bedroom to yourself for the night, which was fine because he wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing he had pushed you so hard anyway. He placed himself on the floor by the tub, sitting with his legs criss crossed over one another. It was quiet in the room, the only sounds were the occasional gentle splash when you moved your leg or arm. His eyes were still full of worry, and he was kicking himself big time now.

“I’m so sorry...” He breathed out, running his fingertips dragging leisurely your damp arm that you had resting on the ledge of the bathtub; “I never meant to hurt you.”

“You didn’t hurt me, Sev. I promise.” You responded, wishing he wouldn’t take this so hard.

When it came to you, Severus took everything to heart. There weren’t many things in the world that made his heart beat with a purpose. You were the single person that allowed him to want to get up in the mornings. The thought of hurting you was enough to break him down. If he could have it his way, you would be indescribably happy with every passing moment of every day. He never wanted you to feel anything other than joy. 

But he knew that life would never allow it.

Your eyebrows dipped when you noticed his attire, wondering why he wasn’t in his own sleepwear. It was much too late for him to go anywhere.

“Where are you going?” You questioned, your voice thick with weary.

“I’m going to go back to the school. I have some grading to do.” He half-lied.

It was true that he did indeed have a stack of papers to be assessed, but that wasn’t the real reason why he felt like he wanted to leave. Severus Snape grading on a Friday night when he had the opportunity to be cuddled up with his lover? He’d choose you every time.

Now you felt bad for causing him to scurry off. You wanted him there with you regardless of what had happened.

“Severus,” You called out tenderly, reaching for his face; “I don’t want you to leave.” 

A genuine look of doubt flashed over his features as his head lulled into your hand.

“I think it would be best if you got some good sleep tonight. I’ll just be in my office so if-”

“Stay with me. Please?” You requested, the thought of sleeping without him was disheartening.

A sigh of awe expelled from his chest. He couldn’t say no to your puppy eyes and slightly pouting lower lip.

“Okay, okay.” He agreed.

“I think that some boyfriend snuggles will make me feel a whole lot better.” You spoke rather cheekily.

He hummed affirmatively. The sound of nestling up with you was impossible to turn down. He took your hand from his face and kissed your palm gingerly, holding the warm skin to his lips for a brief moment. He eventually stood from the floor, but stopped when you held your arms up.

“Help me up?” You asked with the first genuine smile of the evening.

He chuckled, obliging and lifting you effortlessly from the tub. The warm towel was heavenly as you dried off, changing into the clothes that Severus had left for you. Severus went and changed as well, laughing to himself when he exited the closet to see you already curled up. 

The sheets draped over him easily when he laid next to you, waiting for you to nuzzle up to him. He held you close and flush to him, thanking his lucky stars that you were okay.

“My sweet girl...” He hushed out, noting that you were just seconds away from falling asleep; “I love you.” 

You mumbled out a sleepy “I love you” in return before drifting into a deep slumber to snooze off the night’s drama. Severus, as expected, didn’t sleep much that night to ensure that you were sleeping soundly and comfortably. He still felt dreadful, even after you had told him over and over that he didn’t hurt you. The weekend to follow was filled with Severus doting and cherishing over you every chance that he had, trying to make up for what had happened. You were the light of his life after all.

And he prayed that he’d never see that flame go out.

[theonewiththefanfics]

Best Friends My Ass (one-shot)

Synopsis: Being in love with your best friend whom you’ve had since childhood can be tough. Being in love and being dumb can make it tougher. Meet the Reader and Harry. They’re the latter. And everyone’s fed up.

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Genre: fluff, maybe little bit of angst, tiny bit smutty, but not a lot

Warnings: swearing, two idiots pining for one another

Word count: 7524

Even when Harry was little, he’d known he’d have an odd path in life. Just because it was odd, didn’t mean it’d be bad, but it would make him absolutely stand out in the crowd.        When Y/N was young she didn’t see herself having any extraordinary adventures. Sure, she’d travel and explore the world with its secrets, but she didn’t have any plans to draw the attention of the masses. That was until Harry’d come into her life.        They were both young, still kids in that tender age where childhood crossed into teenage years, when they met. For Harry, it was like one of those scenes in the movies where the pretty girl walks into a room and a billion fans make her hair look like the wind is sweeping through it, and her eyes glisten like gemstones. Also known as the 'love at first sight' scene.        For Y/N, it was hard to keep her breakfast down as she walked inside the classroom, twenty pairs of scrutinous eyes on her, trying to figure out if the new girl was a predator or prey.        Luckily for Y/N, the biology teacher wasn’t a total witch and didn’t make her present herself to the class, and just pointed to the free seat next to a curly-haired boy. Luckily for Harry, that free seat was right next to him.        With a sigh, she dropped her heavy backpack beside the chair, giving the boy a shy glance, and was surprised to see a genuine and large grin right back at her. It wasn’t the kind people gave when they had bad thoughts. It was the kind people gave when they were truly excited and wanted to give a good impression. Y/N’s chest grew warm at the thought she might actually make a friend that day. And she did.        “I’m Harry.” He extended his hand for her to take, the grin never leaving his face.        She gave him a big, relieved smile. “I’m Y/N.”        Ever since then they were not only lab partners in classes they shared (which was biology, physics and math), but also in mischief. Together they managed to enrage Anne, annoy Gemma and absolutely horrify Y/M/N, and whenever one went down, the other made sure to go down as well.        So when a few years down the line, Harry had told Y/N about his idea to audition for X-factor she wasn’t surprised one bit.        “I mean, as long as you don’t trip and break your nose on stage, you’ll be fine.”        For that, she received a slap on her arm from him.        “I’m just saying!” Y/N defended herself. “You’re great at singing, Mrs Aberdeen certainly thinks so, you don’t have two complete left feet, and you’re alright to look at.”        That for the first time since the decision and application had been submitted, made Harry smile. He loved how easily Y/N was able to lighten the mood, to take his thoughts away from the bad, and just erase them with her wit and smile.

       “Besides.” She nudged his shoulder with hers and then intertwined their fingers. “I, Gem and our Mums will be right there for you. Won’t even blink until the end of the performance.”        With how her insides trembled in excitement and fear for her best friend, it truly seemed to Y/N she hadn’t blinked at all on that fateful day. Her breath hitched when the judges were talking. She couldn’t even remember what they said, all of it turning into white noise.        And then he got through, and Y/N screamed so much she was sure she’d blown out Anne’s eardrums, and had hugged Harry so tightly she was afraid she’d broken a rib. But with his victory also came a fear, because, for the first time in Y/N’s life, she was terrified as to where she’d stand in Harry’s. Since day one it’d been secure, but now, with the newfound fame of X-factor and who knows what kind of an amazing future, she didn’t know if he’d throw her to the curb, simply forget about the mundane friend from high school or maybe use her for something.        But it wasn’t like that. Not one bit. After insane hours of rehearsals, Y/N was one of the three people he always called. It was her, his Mum and Gem. Always. And he loved to listen to her speaking of what was happening at school, how the lessons were, which teacher turned out to be hooking up with which. As much as Harry knew he was made for the extraordinary, he loved the ordinary Y/N brought in his life. She was his safe harbour. But what he never agreed with were her own thoughts she was meant for a simple life, so he took it upon himself to bring a little bit of eccentricity in hers, as he explained how he’d gotten united into a band with four other boys, now going by ‘One Direction’, and it was his mission to join his newfound friends with the most important friend he'd had.        “This is Y/N,” Harry introduced her to the guys after one of their late-night practices, one where they weren’t being filmed. “If you do anything that even mildly upsets her, I’ll kill you in your sleep.”        The slap against his arm made him let out an ‘Ow!’ while the rest of the boys laughed and welcomed her with open arms.        In a weird way, Y/N became part of the band. She didn’t sing or play any instruments, but she was always around, gave her input on songs and setlists. That kind of closeness made all of the fears and doubts about losing a place in Harry’s life disappear. She was his personal hype-man while at the same time knocked him down a few pegs whenever the fame started to get to his head.        She was there for his highs and lows, for the break-ups and break-off in the band, and watched as he ventured into a solo career as much as she could with school and all, but when summer break rolled around it was like Harry couldn't get rid of her even if he tried. Not that he wanted. Sharing the success and happiness with his best friend was one of the biggest rewards he could have.        And Y/N would never admit it because it’d boost Harry’s already elephant-like ego, at least that’s what she said, but she kind of liked the attention she received because of him, especially because most of it was pleasant.        Had she been terrified that being known as Harry Styles best friend would make people think she was just a gold-digger, seeking fame and leeching it off from him? Yes. And there were people like that. But ninety-five percent of what people said on her social media accounts was actually nice, some even said ‘thank you’ that there was a person like her in Harry’s life to keep things real, and most importantly – cared about him through it all.        Harry also saw those comments; he loved to read about how people saw just how much Y/N cared, and it kind of stirred something in him. He didn’t know when exactly, but it was around the age of twenty-four for him and twenty-three for Y/N when he started looking at his friend in a different light. And it bloody terrified him. He didn’t know if she felt the same, and the thought of putting his heart on the line like that only for the possibility of it being crushed was the scariest thing ever.        He did, however, have an inclination as to what incident had prompted them to surface. The feelings that were. It was a night after a party. Y/N was on winter break from her master’s at uni, which meant he used every opportunity to spend time with her.        The hangover was real, I mean it’s what you got by mixing vodka, tequila and beer into an empty Sprite bottle and chugging it. Harry stumbled over sleeping bodies on his way to the kitchen in search for some leftover pizza he was sure he and Y/N in their drunkenness had ordered, as well as to make two cups of black coffee. He knew she hated the taste, but cold junk food and bitter coffee always did the trick with her. That was when he’d found her.        Although he’d woken up in Y/N’s room, she hadn’t been next to him. Instead, as it turned out, she’d gone on a food search sometime before him and had passed out on the couch, a Cookie Monster onesie on her body, but most importantly his signature pearls around her neck. And one of her hands even rested against her collarbone, as if scared someone would take them away from her.        That’d been the first time his heart had flipped in his chest at the sight of her, but most definitely not the last.        He did however keep this change in his emotions to himself. He wasn’t really sure what it was, so it would be unfair to dump that on Y/N and have her figure it out for him because he didn’t know where she stood on her own, let alone do the work for him.        Luckily, despite the tornado of feelings, their friendship didn’t falter, and when his Vogue cover came out, he was incredibly nervous for people to see it, but especially for those who mattered the most to him, like his Mum, sister and Y/N. Especially Y/N, for her opinion had become the most important one outside his blood relatives. After all, all his thoughts went to – if we dated, would she be as proud of me as she was of me as a friend?        Her support meant the most because he was away in the middle of filming; he had no way of getting physical comfort, so all of the messages, calls, social media posts and FaceTimes was the world to him, especially when Y/N sent a picture of herself with three copies of the magazine, two beside her head as she laid on her bed and one clutched to her chest, which she also posted on Instagram with the caption ‘Can’t hug you for real right now, so this will have to do. When I do get to you @harrystyles, I’ll crush your ribs with my love. And that is a threat.’        Then the comments came in from the rest, and one stood out more than the others.        Bring Back Manly Men.        At first, he felt odd about it. It didn’t really bother him, but at the same time, it made him sad. He knew that he was seen as somewhat of a controversial figure, as he painted nails, wore frilly blouses and now full-on dresses, which were all typically categorized as feminine things, but he never understood why a nail colour or the shape of a shirt suddenly became exclusively for just one gender. Which is why he was so grateful to have Y/N in his life.        “I mean, anatomically speaking, men should be wearing dresses and women trousers. It’s you who have all the dangly bits,” she said through a bite of food. “The Scots have been onto it since the beginning.”        Harry threw his head back in a laugh, shifting an arm behind his head. “So I assume your favourite pic is the one in the kilt?”        “Well, it did remind me of that awful punk phase I had back in school with all those safety pins, only in a more tasteful way, but no. My favourite one is you in that brown, grey off-shoulder jacket thing.”        “Why?”        Y/N wiggled her brows at him. “Shows enough of your cleavage but leaves enough for imagination.”        “Of fucking course.” Harry snorted, shaking his head. “Objectifying much?”        “What? I’m not going to deny that my best friend is a sexy beast.”        He wouldn’t say it out loud, but when she called him her friend, it made his heart clench in a painful way. Harry had been trying to be a bit flirtier around her, but given his open nature as it was, Y/N hadn’t seemed to notice it, nor had she seemed to notice how he looked at her while she was frowning at her computer screen.        Harry’d had relationships with some women who could be considered the most beautiful in the world, but if he’d had to say, in his opinion, who’d receive that title, it’d be Y/N. The way she snorted when she laughed too hard, the way small crow lines had already appeared next to her eyes from how much she smiled and the way her forehead creased when she was concentrating. It enthralled him to no end. He could read her life’s story on her face, how she’d lived and thought and experienced, unlike so many people he met who couldn’t move a muscle.        Though the reason she was so concentrated in that moment was because thousands of people had tagged her in a tweet of a woman, she’d heard of for the first time in her life (because Harry had been trying to keep that one off her radar), and what she saw made all the blood boil in her body more than any other hate comment had.        Without hesitation, Y/N atted her and tweeted “Bring back manly men. Please! Millions of people would let him raw them WHILE WEARING THE DRESS. I mean you tried, so I’ll give you the gold star you so desperately want, but that was pathetic.”        At that same moment, a notification popped up on the screen of Harry’s phone. He only had notifications on for one person, and when he saw what was written, he gasped, looking at Y/N. “You did not just do that!”        “What?” Y/N shrugged biting down on the chocolate bar she’d been savouring for the last half hour of their conversation. “I just said what everyone was thinking. Besides what the fuck does ‘bring back manly men’ even mean? Go chop some wood? Fight a bear in the Siberian woods? Have your ‘friends’ stab you to death at a political meeting?”        “You’re a menace.”        Y/N winked popping the last bit of the chocolate in her mouth. “Only to those who dare go for the people I love.”        His heart fluttered at the last word, but all he could do was mask it with a large grin and shake of his head.        For another hour they spent talking, Y/N kept hyping Harry up, tried to get as many plot details of the movie he was filming, while he avoided as many spoilers as possible and attempted to steer the conversation somewhere else, but when that happened, Y/N jumped onto his music, which he had told her all about. In fact, there wasn’t a music video made without her approval, and neither would his next one be. “You’ll fly out to see me film for ‘Treat People With Kindness’, right?”        Y/N sighed, giving him a sad smile. She hated disappointing Harry. “I’d love to. But you know with everything going on, I don’t think I’ll be able to.”        “Phoebe Waller-Bridge will be in it.”        She gasped, in real excitement. “Well, why didn’t you say so from the start?!”        “So that’s what this friendship has come to. I’m just your gateway to celebrities?”        “Harry you’ve always been just my gateway to the people living in LaLa Land.” But she let out a small breath much like she’d done before. “I really do want to come, Harry. You know that; I miss you like crazy. But Phoebe or no Phoebe, I don’t think I can.”        Harry bit his lip nodding, but he still needed to try one more time. “Is there anything I can say or do to get you here?”        “Get me a private jet and a quarantine mansion?”        “Deal.”        “Woah! Wait!” Y/N pretty much jumped up from her position in bed. “That was a joke! Harry Edward Styles, I swear to God, if you try an –“        But with a giant grin, he just blew Y/N a kiss and ended the call.        She was quite terrified if she was being honest, that Harry would do what she’d asked. He already had once. It'd been around Christmas time while she was still in First Year at uni, and she’d seen a glistening necklace at a jewellery store display. She hadn’t said anything, hadn’t even uttered a word, but just seeing the sparkle in Y/N’s eyes, was enough for Harry to make the decision and gift it for her.        When the next day, around five AM her time, she got a call from Harry’s manager Jeff, she was ready to rip both of them a new one, an e-mail with a plane ticket popping up in her inbox.        “I swear I’ll poison your drinks when I see you,” she’d grumbled, but couldn’t hide the excitement as she threw everything she could in the suitcase. “And no one will find your bodies, mark my words, Azoff.”        He snorted. “Yeah, tell that to the FBI agent listening in on this call.”        “Fuck. Gave myself away,” she said softly, giggling right after.        “You know he’s stoked beyond belief.” Jeff piped up. “He literally jumped out of the bed this morning, and during the dance rehearsals he didn’t miss a step.”        That made Y/N’s heart warm. “Well, you can tell him to curb it a bit. Otherwise, I’ll just stay at the fucking mansion – which, by the way, it was a joke, Jeff! I’m pissed enough he’s spending money on me as it is, let alone such a chunk on the plane, you didn't have to get me an actual mansion.”        “You know, for you, he’d give away all of it.”        “Yes, well, he might need it for his funeral, if he keeps spending it on me and on shit like this.”        The man shook his head but didn’t say anything else. He wasn’t the only one trying to drop hints to Y/N that Harry felt something more, but he’d leave it to the man himself. He didn’t need to possibly ruin everything, and have her decide not to come. His client was nightmare enough without her around, because Harry was like day and night when Y/N finally arrived on set for ‘Treat People With Kindness’.        To say he enveloped her in a hug would be an understatement as he didn’t let go of her for ten solid minutes, having grabbed her by the underside of the thighs and sat down on the ground just so he could prolong the feeling of being with Y/N.        The fact that she’d actually gone for it and hadn’t scolded Harry too much for spending that insane amount of money, for having brought a small piece of home to LA with herself where they were filming, made him now fully acknowledge the true extent of his feelings, especially as she didn’t pull away from their embrace, rather hid her face in the crook of his neck.        I mean, in the end, he did have to let her go because everyone had to get back to shooting, but not before Y/N had stripped the meticulous jacket from him, and went to have a glance at herself in the large mirror, one of the costume designers playing along and adjusting the clothing on her body, as if she was going to be the one performing.        Harry felt someone slide up to him and he looked over to his left, a smiling Phoebe standing there. She nudged his shoulder with hers. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”        He nodded, looking back over to where Y/N was still looking at herself in the mirror, wearing the heavy jacket as if it was nothing like it was made for her. “I’m a cliché, I know. But I can’t help it.”        “Of course, you can.” She squeezed his side. “All you gotta do is tell her.”        But it wasn’t that easy. Comparatively, getting Y/N to appear in the video was easier than coming to terms with the fact, all they’d ever remain would be friends if he didn’t do anything.        Yet the shoot for the video ended as quickly as it had started, and Y/N needed to fly back to the UK to defend her PhD paper, and Harry had to go back to filming ‘Don’t Worry Darling’, thousands of miles stretching between them once more. And Harry was a romantic, he couldn’t confess over FaceTime. Besides, he wanted to make it a special evening for her, plan something out, rather than risk a shitty connection cutting him off mid-word.        He hated it though. It’d been almost four years since Harry had realised his feelings had developed from just friendly into romantic, and still, he hadn’t said anything. Even the people who’d never met Y/N in person like Florence Pugh saw what was going on.        But unlike the cast and crew of ‘Treat People With Kindness’ who had to deal with his pining for maybe a couple of weeks, it’d been almost half a year for her at that point. Did she just want to call Y/N and tell her how Harry felt? Sure. She’d had enough of him coming into her trailer only to fall down onto her pillow and whine. But it wasn’t her place. So instead, she was going to figure out a way to get Y/N to the set and make him tell her himself.        Getting Harry’s phone away from him should’ve been the inspiration to the next ‘Mission Impossible’ script though, because it took her literally a whole day to fish it out from his coat's pocket, and she only had about ten seconds to find Y/N’s number (which wasn’t that hard given how it was the number with literally hundreds of calls next to it) and put it in her own phone.        Once their filming was done for the day, Florence rebutted Harry’s invitation to a movie night, saying a massive headache was coming on, so he wished her a good night and with slumped shoulders went to sulk on his own. Which is why she practically sprinted to her own trailer to finally call Y/N        An unsure ‘hello?’ greeted her ears before she responded. “Hey, this is Florence… Pugh.”        That stunned Y/N into silence for a few seconds before she spluttered out a greeting and said ‘hi’ as well. “Not to be rude, but how did you get my number?”        “Stole it from Harry’s phone. Look, he’s miserable. Keeps moping around, and I can’t take it anymore. Last night I found him crying in his pillow with your shirt over it.”        “What? Why?”        “Because it didn’t smell like you anymore.”        Y/N’s heart broke. “Why didn’t he tell me anything? We just talked, and he said he was fine. God, that man is so dumb sometimes.”        “Is there any way you could find a way to get here?” Florence asked biting down her lip.        She heard Y/N sigh at the other end of the line. “I’ll – I’ll try and figure something out. Have to know what’s going on at work, I mean it has been like two months since the video, so maybe…” She was more so talking to herself, but then remembered about Florence. “Listen, can I give you a message when I find out if my boss will let me?”        “Of course!” The actress was excited about the possibility of Y/N getting here, as long as it got Harry out of his depressive mood.        “Oh, and I’ll need to know what kind of restrictions are on set. I’ll figure something out with flights and quarantine, but I have zero clue as to what’s it like where you’re filming.”        Florence waved her off, even though she couldn’t see the motion. “Leave that to me. Just get your ass over here before the guy cries himself dry.”        It was a struggle though on all three ends – Harry was still moping, because not only had Y/N’s shirt lost its smell of her, but homesickness was hitting full force, Florence was getting more and more desperate as she attempted to take his mind off of things, but nothing seemed to work, and Y/N was trying to get on any possible flight to Harry while arranging two tests and an AirBnB she could self-isolate in for two weeks while attempting to set up her work from afar at the same time.        Two days after Florence’s call, Y/N sent her a message ‘Flying in tomorrow at 4 AM. Don’t tell Harry. He’ll feel even shittier cause I have to stay alone in quarantine. First test came back negative.”        She sighed in relief at the message and immediately texted back ‘i’ve got you a set pass ready, just need a picture. selfie will do. also, masks are mandatory on the lot, so bring those.’        Immediately Y/N sent a thumbs up, and a picture of herself she didn’t absolutely despise to be used on the ID card. All that was left was to pack. And spend two weeks in an attempt of not going crazy with anticipation before seeing Harry.        Those two weeks turned out to be worse than the two months between the music video shoot and going to the filming lot. Because throughout then, Y/N knew her only access to him would be through FaceTime, but to be about twenty minutes away from the man without the ability to touch him was pure torture, but at least Harry seemed completely oblivious to the change in her surroundings.        As they still continued on with their calls, not once did he mention her background, or how the paintings suddenly had managed to switch positions or the fact that Y/N didn’t even own paintings. She was sure she could’ve been missing an arm, and he wouldn’t have mentioned it with how tired he looked.        “Have you even slept, Har?”        “Not really,” he groaned, getting more comfortable in his bed. “We’ve had a bunch of early shoots and then late nights, ‘cause we need to get the continuity for the scenes, and then the day’s full of Zoom calls, and well, I can’t not call you.”        Y/N scoffed, scolding him. “You know damn well I won’t be offended if we sacrifice a couple of calls for you to get some proper sleep.”        “I know, but I will.”        Y/N sighed, knowing in a way it was her fault. She could tell him she no longer was hours of time zones away, but rather watched the same sunset and sunrise as him, but she also knew Harry, and he would be unable to stay away from her until her quarantine was over.        She was quite happy she’d sat through the fourteen mandatory days, because when she got on set, even though Harry was usually good at keeping his composure during a scene, despite the mask, he’d recognise Y/N anywhere, and all of the lines flew out of his head.        “Jack?” Florence’s hand came to cup Harry’s cheek, trying to bring him back on track. “You alright?”        But he didn’t even care about improvising to get out of the flub as his lips were split apart by a grin, and he dashed away, a loud ‘CUT!’ ringing throughout the set, but Harry already had Y/N in his arms, spinning the girl around.        “Best friends my ass,” Florence murmured as she went to the two.        Harry was speechless, Y/N’s face in between his hands as he looked her up and down. “How are you here? What? Why?”        “Thank Florence.” Y/N gave an attempt at motioning to the actress with her head. She set the whole thing up.”        Harry’s head whipped to his scene partner. “You knew Y/N was here for two weeks and told me nothing?”        “Your brain short-circuited when you saw her! You wouldn’t be of no use on set at all if I had.”        Harry scoffed, throwing an arm over Y/N’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s get away from this meanie.” But as he walked away, he looked over his shoulder and mouthed a grateful ‘thank you’ to her.        All Florence could hope for was that he’d get it together and confess, but it didn’t seem like he was in any sort of a rush. Y/N was set to be there for three weeks, but the thought of the woman leaving without knowing how Harry felt, leaving him in a sea of his own heartache, made her miserable, especially after a night they’d all spent together.        Harry really wanted Y/N to get to know the people he worked with so he invited the ones closest to him for a movie night, during which he himself had been the first one to actually fall asleep, of course.        For most of it, as ‘Westworld’ ran on in the background, he spent curled up in Y/N’s lap, his head resting against her chest with her fingers weaving through the shortened locks. She had to get used to the length, motion automatically wanting to go on longer than it was possible to. Soon enough, the soothing motions lulled her to sleep as well, their bodies leaning into one another and perfectly fitting together.        As tired as Florence was of seeing Harry, a person who’d become her friend now pine for someone so hard, it was absolutely heart-melting to watch the two interact. Everyone could see Y/N had the same feelings as Harry did for her, only she hid them a bit better. A little, but not by a lot.        No friends acted the way those two did around one another. Sure, people could be touchy, but not like that, not with such intimacy behind the motions. She felt like she was being a little creepy as she pulled out her phone to take a picture, but it was too cute not to.        A loud noise from somewhere outside set made Y/N shoot up straight, and Florence held her breath as she clutched onto her phone, having swiped it accidentally into video mode and filming the whole thing.        “No,” Harry whined, a hand reaching up for Y/N and grabbing at her elbow. “Come back. ‘S too early.”        She just nodded, grumbling something unintelligible but possibly along the lines of ‘don’t make me throw hands’ before laying down and snuggling into Harry’s chest.        Florence let out a large sigh of relief and decided to get some sleep as well before their annoying four AM alarm woke them up for set.        This time it was the other way around, as Y/N whined for Harry to ‘come back and keep her warm’.        Florence watched as Harry slipped out of Y/N’s grasp, but not before pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead and a whispered a promise to ‘see her when the Sun’s up’. The second the trailer door was closed, she slapped his shoulder, and Harry gasped in shock. “What'dya do that for?”        “Stop that! Stop that stupid dance!” She stomped her foot on the ground. “I’m sick and tired of watching you watch her with that dumb longing expression on your face. I can’t take it anymore. Why do you think I went through all that trouble to get her here?”        “I told you I would!”        She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Look, I know it’s not my place or anything, but she does like you. A lot.”        Harry threw her an uncertain gaze. “And how do you know?”        “Because that woman spent two weeks in self-isolation just to see you! She’s gone through how many of those awful Covid tests just to go and visit you! She’s dropped everything for you, has supported you through so much, and never fails to boost you up.”        “That’s what friends do.”        “No.” Florence shook her head. “That kind of loyalty… that’s what people in love give. I haven’t talked to my best friend in like a month. What’s the longest you’ve gone without speaking to Y/N?”        And with that question, she left Harry to ponder not only his feelings but the girl’s he was in love with as well. Because if he had to be honest, the reason he’d been dragging everything out, the reason he’d stayed pining for Y/N for years on end was that he tried to write everything she did off as something a childhood best friend would do.        The truth was more terrifying than anything because once that came to light, it’d change everything, and Harry didn’t know if he was ready. He wanted it, desperately so if it meant Y/N becoming someone he could love freely and openly, but not if by the end of it, she'd disappear from his life, leaving a hole the size of his heart in his chest.        His thoughts were cut short as someone knocked on the ‘Hair&Make-up’ door, and an assistant let in a pouting Y/N. Well, he couldn’t’ see the pout behind the mask, but he definitely knew it was there, making a smile come on his own face.        She plopped down in an empty sofa and crossed her arms. “I was cold.”        Harry snorted, wanting to shake his head, but didn't as to not ruin the hair stylist’s work. “You’re always cold.”        “And you’re a living furnace.”        “ ‘S that why you like cuddling? Leeching off my warmth?”        The same assistant who’d let Y/N in handed her a cup of coffee, which she was ready to kiss the woman for, but opted for a ‘thank you’. “We’ve established I only use you to get to other celebs. What makes you think I wouldn’t use you for those sort of things.”        For a moment, the trailer settled into silence, as Y/N enjoyed her morning coffee while the crew kept doing their own work.        “It’s so weird,” Y/N piped up, eyes racking up and down Harry’s body. “Don’t even wanna really look at you like that.”        He let out a mock gasp of hurt. “What d’ya mean? Am I suddenly repulsive to you?”        “No!” she let out a laugh. “It’s just odd seeing you without the tattoos. They’re such a huge part of you, even the dumb ones. Can’t really imagine you any differently.”        “Would you love me any differently without them?” The question was bold, even though he knew she did love him, he had to start making moves.        “No,” Y/N shook her head. “I don’t think so. I believe I’d be a different person then as well, but I’d love you all the same. As long as you’d do the same with me.”        Harry nodded looking down at his hands then back up at her, catching her eyes through the reflection in the mirror. “Don’t think there’s a dimension out there where I don’t love you.”        “I mean that is a bold statement,” Y/N said, sipping on the remnants of her coffee. “What if I’m like a weird, cat-skinning psychopath in one dimension? Would you love me even then?”        “Jesus Christ, Y/L/N, do you just normally come up with those gruesome scenarios or is it a hobby?”        She wiggled her eyebrows, standing up and throwing away the paper cup. “There’s a reason I have a VPN and clean my search history. I’ll see you in your trailer?”        “Yeah.” Harry nodded and smiled. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”        The next half-hour he kept hyping himself up, about how he was actually going to do it, but Florence intercepted him right as he was turning down the way his trailer stood. “How are you gonna do it?”        “I – “ Harry huffed and placed his hands on his hips. “In the beginning, I had like a whole romantic outing planned, but… I’ve dragged this on long enough, so I think I’ll just tell her.”        “Okay, good.” Florence nodded and slapped his shoulder in approval. “And if I don’t hear that trailer rocking, I will throw you in a ditch.”        Harry’s eyes widened at the statement, fully knowing she meant her words, but she was already half-way down the track, blond hair swishing behind her back.        It was then or never.        Slowly he opened his own trailer door as if it was Y/N’s place not his, but by the looks of how she’d sprawled out on his bed, she had made herself right at home. Just like she’d done it on the first day of school, but just with his heart.        “Hey!” She smiled looking at him. “You ready to film?”        “Yeah, but umm… I kind of wanted to talk to you beforehand.”        Y/N’s brows furrowed at Harry’s serious tone, so she sat up, nodding. “Sure. Is everything alright?” “It’s nothing bad, at least I hope you won’t take it in a bad way... I’ve actually been wanting to tell you this since that winter’s break party you had while doing your masters...” He let out a small chuckle but seeing Y/N’s eyes widen in a panic he stopped. “Oh, God,” she moaned. “You have a kid! Oh my God.” “What? No!” Harry spluttered. “Why the hell is the first thing you assume that I have a kid?” “I don’t know!” She was now standing facing him completely. “We’ve never had secrets between us, especially for as long as you’ve apparently kept them, what am I supposed to think? Maybe one of the girls you hooked up with got pregnant, and you’ve been hiding the fact you’re a baby daddy because you know I wouldn’t be able to keep the fact I can be the cool drunk aunt to myself.” All of that came out as is she’d prepared it ages ago. “Well, no.” Harry shook his head stepping closer so he could be chest to chest with Y/N. “I’m not anyone’s baby daddy. At least I don’t think so, but umm... when that moment would come... when I have a kid...” He looked up at the ceiling and sighed before lifting a gentle hand to cup her cheek. I wouldn’t want you to be the drunk aunt. I um...” There goes nothing. “I’d kinda like if you were the mom.” “Of course, I’ll be the Godmother!” Both of them said at the same time, making the other’s brain stumble over the words said. “Wait, mom?” Y/N’s question was breathless. “Like donate my eggs or some shit?” “No like, I’ve been in love with you for close to four years, and I wanna try and build a future with you, where you’re more than just my best friend.”        “Oh.”        That was all that managed to escape her mouth as he fully opened his heart, and Harry couldn’t lie – it shattered. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it was more than that. “That’s...” Y/N huffed sitting down on the bed. “That’s a lot to take in Harry. Like a lot.” “I know.” He sighed and sat down next to her. “Which is why I’ve been pushing this away for as long as I could, but... it was time. It wasn’t fair to you or me to keep on living like that. Look.” Harry took her palm in his. “Whatever you want us to be, we’ll be that. I - I mean I’ll be heartbroken if you say you don’t feel the same, but no matter what you tell me now, I won’t let you leave my life. I love you, and I’m in love with you. This is your choice which way you chose to go with.” Y/N shook her head, interlacing their fingers and finally looking up at him. “I don’t want you to be heartbroken. It’s the last thing, I’d ever want to see you like. And umm well, if it takes me using the pair of ovaries I have to admit I’ve been in love with you too to change that, I guess I’ll have to say it. I’m in love with you too.” Harry’s eyes glimmered with unshed tears of happiness, as he looked at Y/N like she’d hung the stars in the sky. Not that it mattered. He always looked at her like that. “You mean it?” “Yeah,” she chuckled, wiping away a few stray pearls from her own cheeks. “I guess I always thought I’d end up the drunk aunt in your life, so that’s why I thought you’d ask me to be whatever future child’s Godmother. But I love you, and I’m in love with you too.” “Can I – “ Fuck, Harry was too giddy for his own good. “Can I kiss you?” And when Y/N chuckled, nodding he swore he already was in heaven. “Yes, please.”        At first, the touch of his lips was gentle, almost afraid, but the second he pressed them to Y/N’s, and she gasped at the sensation, it became full of lust as passion, years of pent-up pining and angst and just plain old stupidity surfacing and morphing itself into a steamy make-out session.        In a split second, she was sprawled out on Harry’s bed, his toned body leaning over hers and teasing hands moving along her sides, making her squirm and ache for more of his touch, but she wasn’t the only one who wanted to explore a body with a new mindset of what was possible.        As Y/N moaned from Harry’s tongue invading her mouth, her hand couldn’t help itself as it slid down his chest, and her finger flicked against the button of his trousers.        “Can I touch you there?” Y/N whispered against his mouth, and Harry eagerly nodded.        “Please. Been dreaming about this for literally years.”        Smiling, she allowed him to continue and explore her mouth with his tongue, intoxicated on one another’s taste. In fact, Y/N was so far gone just from the kiss, she forgot how a fly worked and needed Harry’s help to open it.        “Get back here,” she grumbled as he chuckled, having leaned up a bit to make it easier for her to get the offensive piece of clothing off. “We’ll see how you fare with a bra.”        “Oh, I’m an expert.” His hands trailed to her shoulder where he snapped one of the straps against her skin, making her yelp.        “You do not want to do that when my hand is an inch away from your dick.”        But the threat had no merit to it, as she dipped her palm behind Harry’s boxers while his mouth went to soothe the sting and leave a little mark on her skin, which he’d get to admire later on.        The second, Y/N wrapped her hand around his cock an involuntary moan escaped into the air, as she gripped him. Fuck, she couldn’t wait until he was inside her, because, and it might sound a little cliché given how they were best friends who’d fallen in love with one another, but she was one hundred percent sure, he was made exactly for her.        But no matter how much she twisted her hand or how gently or roughly she rubbed the tip, he couldn’t get hard, and Harry was on the verge of tears, which Y/N saw and instantly pulled away, cupping his face.        “I’m sorry,” he choked out. “Fuck, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”        “Hey!” Y/N cooed. “None of that. It’s alright. Shit happens.”        Harry nodded understanding that she was right, but he still felt shitty and well, he felt insecure about it. “I just. Fuck. Usually, when I think of you, I’m hard in like a second.”        And although all Y/N wanted to do was smirk and tease him about the fact that he thought of her while wanking himself off, that wasn’t the right moment.        “I promise, you turn me on, you do." He sniffled. "This had never happened before.” But Y/N wasn’t offended or sad, and her laugh wasn’t mocking or trying to hurt him.        “Harry you’re dead tired.” She cupped his cheek with one of her hands, and if he’d been ice cream he would’ve literally melted. “You had to wake up at four in the fucking morning and won’t go to sleep until two the next day. Let yourself rest a bit.”        “But,” he whined and then huffed. “But I wanna love on you. Wanna show you just how crazy I am about you.”        “And you will. You know I’ll always hold you to your word. But this won’t be fun for either of us if mid-fuck you suddenly collapse on me asleep. I don’t need to go to the A and E and explain the broken nose is because my boyfriend decided to take a nap while shagging. A nap on my face.”        But Harry hadn’t really heard anything she’d said after Y/N mentioned the b-word, a dopey smile on his face. “I’m your boyfriend? You really want me like that?”        “I mean I would prefer if you were Phoebe…”        Harry pinched her side, making her squeal before tackling her in a hug. “Shut up!”        And that’s how the two fell asleep (and were woken up twenty minutes later by an assistant in a panic given how Harry was supposed to be on set in five minutes)  – wrapped up in one another’s arms, smiles on their faces, and no longer best friends, but lovers.

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64​ @supernaturalbaesduh​ @breezy1415​ @crazy--me​ @thatawkwardlittlefangirl​ @sea040561​ @staryeyedgirl​ @deathbyarabbit​ @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91​ @dalilx​ @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns​ @averyrogers83​ @in-the-end-im-still-trash​ @gallifreyansass​ @dewy-biitch​ @avxgers​ @unlikelygalaxygiver​ @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees​ @bnhvrdy​ @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl​ @sj-thefan​ @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue​ @im-squished​

Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15​ @breezykpop​ @girlboss99​ @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist​ @alliyjane​ @sirtommyholland​

A/N: I loved writing this so much :)

P.S. my tags are always open

P.S.S. I don’t take requests, sorry. Also, please don’t repost my story on other platforms (wattpad etc) without specific written permission.