#he's been needing an updated look for a while. took a bit more inspo from the goth cone this time around

[suave-hogan]

revives evil sung with no context and a new look

[iwadori]

When they neglect you for another girl Part 4 (Sakusa)

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five

Word Count: 2.6K

Genre: Angst to Fluff

masterlist

AN: YES I DID PUT MYSELF IN THIS STORY! SUE ME. This is basically inspired by a random conversation i had w the great @teesumu, so this is basically for you doll <3

Sakusa:

You and Sakusa have been together for a around 10 years and love eachother immensly.    

However recently Sakusa has been busy and you havent really had much time together lately as he claims been busy doing loads of visits with his new agent.

But of course, being the loving partner you are you wanted to revive the spark in your relationship.

You have been seeing a lot of people on social media posting their aesthetic ‘picnic dates,’ and you knew that this was something that appealed to you before it was ‘on trend.’ Kiyoomi immediately came to your mind once you had the idea of going on a date. You knew that you haven’t be around each other lately, as Kiyoomi always had either a ‘meeting’ or some sort of ‘interview’ that his new agent “Empress” has set up for him.

You didn’t really know Empress that well, just that she was ‘good at her job,’ a ‘hard and dilligent worker,’ and a ‘raging hottie’ with Atsumu’s opinion being the last one. You weren’t suspecting her to have any malicious intent towards you or Kiyoomi, since you knew that he had a great judge of character. But it was just odd, that every time Kiyoomi was running late or having ‘super-secret’ conversations on the phone it was always because ‘my agent set up this,’ ‘my agent set up that,’ and that’s what left you a bit wary.

As you were scrolling through your phone you see a calendar updating saying : Next Week‘ A DECADE AGO WE FELL IN LOVE.’  

10 years. How could you forget? You and Omi have literally been together for a decade. You think back to the decade of madness and love you’ve been through together, smiling fondly to yourself but then you think about where you are now... barely even talking to each other, only mainly seeing him when he comes home from work.

You need to fix this. Or at least make an attempt to get you and Kiyoomi talking again. So, the only thing you can do, is plan that picnic.

You spent the rest of the day planning your anniversary picnic. ’It’s going to be great,’ you think to yourself, you have a list of all Omi’s favorite foods you're going to make him and bring and you are probably going to pick up a few board games and maybe even get some paint supplies. You and Kiyoomi used to paint a lot together, with the two of you not being the best of painters, but you enjoyed eachothers company non the less.  

Everything was sorted...for the most part. All you needed to do was get Omi there, and it’ll all be okay. Right? As you were bubbling and looking for more picnic inspo, you hear your front door open which made you even more excited to tell your boyfriend your plans.  

As you rush to go greet him, you see he’s on the phone making you roll your eyes. “No Empress it won’t work, we need this sorted by next week. Okay? Next week.” he says in an agitated way. He hangs up the phone and sighs, shoving off his duffel bag.

“Hey Omi, how was your day?” you say a bit hesitant, noticing his annoyed mood.  

“Fine” He said dismissively, aiming to walk past you aiming for your bedroom.

“Oh well I have something amazing planned for ne-” you try to say following after him.

“Can we not do this right now Y/N,” he says again turning too look at you making you frown a bit, all you wanted to do is surprise him with your plans and have a day out with him. After noticing your sad look he finishes with “it’s just that Empress she’s bee-”

“I don’t want to hear about her.” you say bitterly folding your arms, Empress is the last person you want to hear about right now “God Omi can’t you just care about me? For once.”

“I do I-”

“You don’t anymore,” you say, with all the emotions and feelings you’ve been just supressing from a while coming up. You don’t even know how you got from point A to B with this conversation, but there's no stopping now. “I feel that, for a while now we haven’t been how we were before when we were just Y/N and Kiyoomi. Instead of how we are now. Just Y/N. Then Kiyoomi and Empress.”

After hearing his agents name, Kiyoomi’s name contorts to confusion “Empress? What does she have to do with anything?”

“How can you not see? For the past month all it’s been is ‘Empress this’ ‘Empress that,’” you complain “Having your super secret conversations with her, like god Kiyoomi can’t you see a problem with this?”  

“It’s not like that Y/N, we’re just work partners” he says looking a bit annoyed “Just business.”

 “Just business? So Kiyoomi, what were you talking about on the phone earlier” you say with your voice slight accusingly.

“Umm I, I can’t really say?” he says more of a question then a fully assured statement. You squint your eyes at him and scoff.

“What is going on with you Omi?” you say “are you cheating on me with her is that it?”

“No, no of course not Y/N! How could you even ask that?” he frowned at your question making your chest hurt, since deep down you knew he could never do that to you. Could he?

“Well tell me then, what were you talking about?” you ask again.

“I can’t say..” he finishes  

“Well I can’t stay.” you say and his face goes back to confusion “Here. With you.”

“What do you mean Y/-”

“I need a break or something. I just can’t be here right now.” You start to rush and pack a big of things whilst Kiyoomi just stands there.

After you pack up your stuff, you look back and see Kiyoomi just there. Standing. You were upset, you kind of wanted him to rush after you and beg you not to leave, but he was just there. Standing. So you put the hand on the door and just before you leave you turn back and say “bye Sakusa, see you later?” to which you see him slightly nod at.

When the door shut, Kiyoomi starts to cry. After hearing you call him by his last name really twisted the knife that was already in his heart. You haven’t called him that since you were like 15. He knew what you wanted; he knew you wanted him to rush towards you and beg you not to leave, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. But what he could do is call the one person he only could call.

After a few rings, he hears “What do you need Saku?”  

“She’s gone, she left.”

“What do you mean she’s gone, did you tell her?”  

“No I didn’t tell her. And that’s the problem, Empress she think-”

“Saku, don’t worry about it. I’ll handle it.”

“You’ll handle it?”

“Don’t I always?”

He couldn’t argue with that, he just had to trust that Empress could sort it. “And also, don’t spend the week with your head up your ass crying, you’ve got a lot of grovelling to do kiddo.”

He nodded even though she couldn’t see him, as he knew that what just went down needed to be resolved, fast.

Meanwhile, on your end. You’re a mess. Sobbing all the time, tissues are your best friend, you’ve been waiting just waiting for a message or a call, or some form of communication. You just wanted to feel wanted by your boyfriend (can you even call him that now.)  

You spent the rest of the week at your parents, immersing yourself in your work and doing ‘self care’ things, trying to forget all about the argument you and Kiyoomi had.  

One day, you receive a letter, it wasn’t delivered by a mail man though. It was slid under your door, in a golden envelope sealed with a red hot wax seal. It read:

‘Dear Y/N,

My sweetheart, im sorry for how the week has been and I know a letter with only a fraction of how I feel won’t make up for how I acted that day. But im inviting you to join me at the Gardenia Botanical Gardens at 2 pm tommorow, to celebrate our 10 year anniversary.  

I know there is a big chance, you may not want to see me and I understand but please. I love you, so so much, that words can’t even describe. But I need you to see me apologise and I need to make it up to you.  

I hope to see you there, I’d wait the whole day for you. If you don’t show, I understand.

Sincerely, Sakusa Kiyoomi

P.S The theme is ‘summer hot day, tea with the queen’ - Atsumu’

You smile at the letter, but wonder if you should actually go or not. You did want to see him of course and get this all resolved, but you had your own plans for your anniversary which wouldn’t of been spoiled if he didn’t withhold his super-secret phone calls.

It took you hours to contemplate on what to do, but you decided to just sleep on it and see how you feel tomorrow. In the morning, you knew what you wanted to do. Of course, you had to go, at least to hear him out and see if he really did cheat on you or not. For all you know he’s inviting you to tell you that he’s going to run away with his agent and his secret kids they had together. You shook the negative thoughts from your head and just repeated your mantra ‘hope for the best and prepare for the worst.’

When you got there, you didn’t exactly know where he would be but he said ‘botanical gardens’ so of course you decided to just wander around there. It was nice walking around and just smelling the roses, and seeing the pretty scenery.  

“Excuse me ma’am,” you hear someone say tugging on your leg “um that mister over there told me to give you these.” Looking down, you see a small boy who looked about the age of four with a crumpled up bunch of roses handing them to you.

“Oh thank you,” you say giving the kid a head pat “where is this ‘mister’ might I ask?”

“He’s over there!” The kid pointed behind him and you look to see Kiyoomi sitting under a white gazebo which is surrounded in your favorite flowers and the table is filled with food.

You walk over to your ‘boyfriend,’ with him not noticing your present yet. When you reach him you say “I think she stood you up buddy,” you joke making him jump abit startled.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, instantly beaming “You came you made it!” he stood up and pulled you into a hug, which you return before you remember why you came here in the first place.

“Oh I-” he says awkwardly

You decide to sit down pulling him down with you. You kind of sit there in uncomfortable silence, for a while until you both say.

“So I-”

“What are yo-”

You both laughed at your simultaneous comments, before Kiyoomi looks at you letting you speak. “What did you want to bring me here for?”

“I didn’t want, what happened last week to happen Y/N I-” he says looking a bit panicked “It wasn’t supposed to go this way.”

“Then how was it meant to go Sakusa.”

“Y/N, please don’t call me that, I know I made you upset but pleas-” he starts before getting distracted again “Y/N, I called you here to say a few things..”

“Them being.?” you ask a bit impatiently.

“I love you. I love you so much, you don’t even understand. Ever since I saw you at my volleyball game in our first year, in the stands just cheering us on. I knew that from that day, after I scored the winning point and our eyes met, that we were destined to be together. I just love you so much Y/N”

“Omi I don’t understand I-”

“Just let me finish please, It’s taken a while for me to say this. And trust me, there’s been so many times when I wanted to just say ‘hey Y/N let’s get married,’ but I couldn’t I was scared, and I wanted it to be perfect, so perfect. Because you deserve the world Y/N. That’s why I got Empress to help, I know that our conversations may seem odd, but I love you and she knows that she just wanted to help trust me. And she did, all this wouldn’t of been done if it wasn’t for her. But anyways Y/N what I waned to say was I love you and I love you and I-” he rambles on loosing track of his words.  

But in the midst of his speech, you hear all that you needed and responded with the only way you can.

“Yes.” you say simply, with a growing smile on your face.

“Yes?” he repeats confused “What do you meann ye- ohhh" Kiyoomi blushes embarrased that after all that he ended up ruining the thought out proposal he wanted to give you with his ramble.

“Im sorry Y/N, I didn’t mean to say it like that I wanted it to be perfect and I-”

You shut him up with a kiss making his eyes widen as he reciprocates it anyways.  

“What did she say?” you hear someone shout from a far, and you look over to see the MSBY Jackals all standing there with shit eating grins on their faces.

“I said yes!” you yell back, to which they all cheer and rush towards you guys giving you both hugs and slapping Kiyoomi on the back.  

As the boys celebrate Omi finnally do what he’s been planning for ages, you get approached by Empress who awkwardly walks up to you. “ I didn’t want to leave the impression that me and Saku were any sort of thing?” she says

“Yeah I think it was definitely a big misunderstanding, it’s just that Omi was never around and whenever he was he was just talking to you and you know how it is.”

“I definitely know, I’d feel the same way if my boyfriend did that to me.”

“Oooh boyfriend?” you ask her feeling nosey on her romantic life.  

“Yeah boyfriend. You know iwaizumi hajime... the trainer?” she says smiling a bit when she said his name.

“The trainer! Nice.”

The rest of the night was fun and was basically an engagement party for you and Omi all you and friends just partying and celebrating yours and Omi’s love for each other. “Omi” you say getting his attention “Happy ten year anniversary babe”

“Happy anniversary, I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

After the party you spend your months now planning for a big fat wedding, with the help of your new found bestie, Empress (who you obviously misjudged from the start.) You and Omi could never be happier, every thing was back to how it was before, maybe even better. And you definitely spent at least two Saturdays a month going out for picnics and it was now a tradition in your relationship, so in the end you did get your ‘aesthetic picnic date.’

AN: WHAT DID U GUYS THINK??

[joannaliceevans-fanficblog]

Two Years, Too Late: Part. 3

A/N: Oh man, sorry to the late update! I didn’t know how to start this chapter and when I got around it, work as been kicking my ass, and being tired all the time. Also not having the inspo to write it down.

Edit: So this is a reupload, because I posted a undedited verson of the chapter. Sorry guys!

Also, I’m so happy everyone is loving this!

Characters: soft Ransom x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader (past)

Before I shut up, I need to thank @princessofdarkwinter ! She made me this beautiful mood board and did a beta! Love you and thank you!

Masterlist of Drabbles and Series

Catch up: Two Years, Too Late  Two Years, Too Late: Part. 2

Chapter warnings: there is a bit of smut here. 18 + only

Another extended mission, and Nat is already begging him to get a drink with her. All he wanted was to go back to the compound, take a shower, watch some TV, and sleep. But somehow, Steve had agreed, and now here he is, at a table with everyone. Steve had heard that night another girl from the missions department was coming. He didn’t think any of it, as he drank his beer and chatted with Bucky.

“Y/N!” Steve heard; Nat yelled. Steve and Bucky turned to the front, and Nat stood up. Steve watched as Nat greeted the woman.

“Why haven’t I seen her before, Buck?” Steve asked, not looking at his friend as his attention was towards you. Bucky turned towards his friend, who was fixated on the girl next to Nat.

“Steve? Y/N is our mission coordinator!” Bucky nearly yelled over the rowdiness as more people began to appear in the bar. Steve gave a confused look and turned to Bucky.

“I probably didn’t pay attention.” Steve shrugged his shoulders.

 As the night went on, there was something that piqued Steve's interest in you. You had this bright personality, intelligent, and had a contagious laugh. Bucky noticed and tried to get Steve your number, but of course, he was in denial. When the night came to a close, the group went out. Steve had noticed that you had a bit to drink and didn’t want you to be driving home. So, he went towards you, seeing that you were struggling to get your keys out.

“Here, let me help,” Steve said. You looked at him for a moment.

“Oh Steve, I’m-I’m fine-" You slurred your words. Steve let out a giggle and took the keys from you.

“Now, Y/N. You had a bit to drink; I would feel better if I took you home.”

**

Steve shot up from his bed, and sweat dribbled down his face. Steve sat there for a moment, as the dream he had was still fresh in his memory. That was the day that Steve first met you. It took a while and a lot of convincing, but he made it happen with the help of his two best friends to ask you out.  

Turning on the lights, Steve kicked off the blanket. Ever since he got back into town, his thoughts and his memories of you began to haunt him. As Steve got out, his wedding ring on the nightstand caught his attention. He picked it up and stared at it, remembering two years ago, every time he looked at it how heavy it was wearing, he never took it off. He doesn’t know why he never took it off for the past two years.

Sighing, he got up and headed to his office. Turning on his laptop, Steve watched it boot up. He began typing into the secure SHIELD database, not sure what he would find. Steve typed in your name, but as he did, Steve frowned at the screen. Steve never intended to hurt anyone with his decision, but thinking back, it was you that he caused the most damage to.

Restricted Access

Sighing, Steve cleared his throat and typed in your name once more. The same bold letters appeared in front of him as he clicked your name.

“That’s strange?” Steve asked himself, wondering why your file was under restricted lockdown. He should have the highest security clearance with the advantage of being an avenger and all.

Steve stared at the screen for a moment, and he got up from his desk. That is a question he needs to ask Tony when he has a chance of why your file got restricted. Knowing Nat and Bucky are giving him the cold shoulder, now they won’t give him an answer. Going to his closet, he changed and quickly headed to the garage. Getting into his car, Steve started to drive. He drove out of the city to a town that he hasn’t been to in two years.

**

Your legs straddled over Ransom’s waist as he laid on the king-size bed. Your body bounced against him as his massive hands gripped tightly on your waist. Feeling his hands travel down to your ass, and gives a sharp smack and a firm squeeze. You moaned and begged for him, for another. Giving you a lustful smile, he obliged and gave you another.

“Fuck Ransom!” You yelled as you paused and rolled your hips, feeling his tip against your cervix and hitting you in the right spots.

 You both were moaning, echoing throughout the penthouse. Ransom’s hands then traveled up towards your breasts, squeezing them. Pinching your now sensitive nipples, you yelled out in painful pleasure.

“Just like that, Ran- “You moaned, rolling your hips harder, making Ransom yell out a primal growl.

“Fuck baby, so hot-" Ransom said as he sat up, wrapping his arms around you. Then flipping you down onto your back and taking your legs, spreading them wide open. Your well fucked pussy, glowed with your sweet nectar. Lust grew into Ransom and slipped his still rock-hard cock into you. Thrusting into you, making you scream out into pleasure. Your eyes rolled back, feeling the pure joy of this man fucking you into oblivion.

“Fuck Hugh!” You yelled, with your hands gripping the red silk bed sheets. Pulling you close to him, Ransom bent down over you, making your legs go back. His cock went deeper into you, making your eyes go wide and stuffing you full. 

Before he continued, Ransom paused for a moment and took a look at you. His eyes scanned around you, taking in all the beauty you had. His blue eyes went from lust to filling with love for you. Many girls he’s been with, none of them had captured his heart and his soul but you. Ransom finally landed on your left hand. Taking your hand, he kissed every finger and then finally onto the one that held his heart.

You knew what Ransom was thinking about, and tears came down your eyes. Ransom then bent down and kissed your tears away.

“Hugh, I love you.” You told him. You have told him many times that you do. But this time, it’s different. Ransom looked at you once more and slowly started to thrust into you. You were feeling his length, feeling every inch of him inside of you.

“I love you so much, baby girl.”

“You always had my heart-"

“I’ll love you for as long as you have me-"

More tears came down the sides of your eyes. Your hands laced with his as Ransom's pace became faster. That familiar feeling came over you, and the heat rushed over you like a tidal wave. Your walls tightened against his cock.

“Ran- I’m close-" You moaned. Your eyes rolled back, and your back arched.

“That’s it, sweetheart, come with me,” Ransom muttered, slamming his hips against your hot skin. You yelled out your orgasm and wrapped your arms around him. Holding him close, Ransom gave one final thrust and spilled his spent deep into your womb. The warm sensation gave you a second round of pleasure.

Ransom dropped his forehead against yours, feeling his salty, sticky sweat against you. Your hands ran through his wet, damped hair, and you placed a kiss on his forehead.

The following morning, you woke up to the sound of Ransom on the phone. Rubbing your eyes, you placed your glasses on to see your new fiancée, half-naked, wearing a pair of tight sweats and screaming on the phone. You knew that this was a serious conversation, but you couldn’t help but stare at his perfect god-feature body. Just staring at him and remembering last night how he wrecked you made you wet. You kept watching his movement as he yelled at the phone as you lost yourself in your thoughts. You watched as he turned around to see you, and his face softened. He paused for a moment and sighed.

“Andrew, get it fixed, and I’ll see when we can get a flight,” Ransom yelled and hung up.

“What happened?” You asked as Ransom sighed and crawled onto the bed, and laid next to you.

“There are big issues with the publishing house in London-"

“And you want me to call for flights, get your clothes ready. And I assume that you need me there as well?” You asked with a smile. Ransom stared at you in disbelief and reached over to you.

“How the hell did I get so lucky,” Ransom said, reaching over to you and kissing you. You smiled against his lips and placed your hands onto his cheeks.

“Because I know you too well, babe. Now let me make those calls, and you, sir, can get me some food. You worked up a big appetite from all the sex last night-“You sang and reached over to get your phone. Once you did, you noticed that Ransom was still looking at you as he licks his lips.

“Ransom Drysdale!” You playfully yelled, making him laugh, and got up from bed.

**

Late in the morning, you and Ransom were scrambling around the penthouse. You had your phone resting on your shoulders while speaking to private airlines and trying to get a flight out from New York City to London. The private airlines kept giving you flights that were cutting it close. You kept begging and begging. But the company couldn’t provide the time that you wanted.

“Mr. Drysdale has flown with you for many years and has always delivered. If you don’t give me the time slot that I need, then I will see that your company will NEVER see the skies again!” You yelled and hung up. Letting out a long, annoyed sigh, you see Ransom looking at you with a smile.

“What?” You said, placing your hands onto your hips.

“You look so hot when you get worked up like that-“ Ransom said, walking towards you. You raised your eyebrow and held your hand towards his chest.

“Not so fast, Drysdale.” You said as your phone vibrated and picked it up. Listening to the lady with a nervous tone, you smiled and thanked her.

“I’m going to pack your clothes. We leave at 1:45 pm, from LaGuardia Airport. So hurry,” You said, walking towards the bedroom.

Ransom looked at his watch and smiled, rushing towards the bedroom. >:)

  **

The sunrise peeked through the morning in Boston as Steve continued to drive. He was looking around the historic city as memories were flowing through his mind. When Steve married you, you wanted to move out of New York, live in a quieter town, and be close to your best friend. Steve grew up in Brooklyn, so he wanted to live there, raise his family there. But he loved you, and that’s what he did.

Looking around as he drove, Steve landed on a familiar spot. A small café, with flowers covering the front of the store. Steve smiled as he pulled over and parked. Getting out of his car, Steve walked over to the café and pushed the door open. Immediately, the familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee and the sweet smell of fresh-baked scones. This spot was you and Steve’s, and every weekend you and he would come for breakfast.

Finding a seat, Steve took the menu from the table and read through it. Steve noticed that the menu hadn't changed, bringing a smile and joy to his heart. Finding what he wanted, he looked up to see the waitress walking towards him.

“Are you ready to order, sir?” The waitress asked. Steve sighed and turned to the kind lady.

“Um, I’ll have the French Toast with Strawberries.” Steve said, “And with a coffee, please.”

The lady nodded and turned. Before she left, Steve saw the scones and called out for the waitress. The lady turned and faced him.

“Was there something else?”

“Um, my wife and I used to come here a lot, and her favorites are your scones. Are the scones still available?” Steve asked, and the lady smiled.

“Yes, they are. We have Blueberries, Strawberry, Chocolate Chip, and Plain.”

Steve knew that strawberries are your favorite, and he asked for a popping hot fresh scone. The waitress left, and Steve started to look around. A lot of memories held here, and the more he thought, his tears came down. Steve knew he did the most selfish thing by leaving you without an explanation. He knows one day he has to see you again to give you an explanation as to why he left. 

**

After his breakfast, Steve started to drive down a familiar road. The houses still looked the same, the people, and the elementary school that was nearby. He continued until he hit the one place that held many more memories. Parking across the street, he shut off the engine and sat. He looked over the familiar building. White picket fence, white wooden walls, black-framed windows, and garden that you took care of.

Steve sat in the car battles with his emotions, debating if he should go out and ring that doorbell. He sat, spoke to himself, fought with his inner thoughts. Steve didn’t care if he yelled and people would look his way into his car. Finally, he decided and got out.

Taking deep breaths as he walked across the street and headed up the driveway. Steve glanced around the front yard and noticed there were children's toys sprawled across the lawn. There was a swing attached to the tree as it swayed as the breeze hit it. His heart started to race as he began thinking of the what if. 

You and Steve did have the conversation about having kids a few times. Did he abandon you while you were with his child? The thought of you being left alone while pregnant with nobody around began to scare him. 

Shaking the thoughts, Steve let out a breath and paused at the front door. His hand started shaking as he placed his finger against the doorbell. There was some muffled voice and the click of the knob turning.

The door opened, and Steve looked down to see a little boy staring back at him.

**

@jtargaryen18 @patzammit @mariestark @3dsaunt @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @icanfeelastormbrewing @angrybirdcr @shikin83 @stephv23805   @onetwo3000 @shellbilee​ @what-is-your-plan-today @evansphnx12 @iluvsumbucky​

[caramelcal]

corrupted love.

summary: calum’s girlfriend finds out about gang!cal’s occupation in a not-so-friend way.

request: “ Hi!!! I’ve never done this so I’m a bit scared but I saw you were in search of gang/criminal aus and let’s give it a go. Could you do one with Cal getting into a fight unaware y/n was watching and unintentionally scaring her and he works trying to get her back and regaining her trust. If it’s alright, if not I completely understand I also just wanted to say I really love your writing. I’m so hooked on Fool For You it’s unreal and I cant wait for the update!! Pls and thx :) x “ IM SO SORRY I JUST REALIZED THAT YOU ASKED FOR THIS TO BE AN X READER AND I DONE AN X OC (i can redo it if you want so that it isn’t specified, i just prefer to as i can play around with their appearance and personality a little more but i will 100% redo it if you want me to)

word count: 2.7k

a/n: apologies, i am working on other fics but i got a sudden burst of inspo for this one. enjoy lovelies x 

also...y’all wanting parts after this where they reconcile? 

Her soft giggles sounded throughout the room, face lit up by only the tv her eyes were trained on, a wide but beautiful smile spread right across her face. She sat between his legs, hands in his as he softly trailed patterns on her palms.

She was solely paying attention to the tv, a random movie that Calum knew she would like, playing. He was right, mind you, she hadn’t taken her eyes away from the screen since he had pressed play, too captivated by the cartoon. However, Calum hadn’t been watching because he hadn’t taken her eyes off of her.

He pressed a soft kiss at her temple, lips trailing gently down the side of her face as she leaned closer towards him, her back against his stomach as she snuggled against him. The smile didn’t leave her face, in fact, it hardly ever did. Melanie, -or Mel as she insisted everyone called her-, was a smiley girl, much more than him. She was happy, carefree, like an angel; his angel.

Calum had never been one for romantic relationships. He was far too busy for that, but as soon as he caught eyes on Mel he knew he wanted her. He wasn’t sure what came over him, maybe it was the smile, or her carefree attitude, or the way she was so eager to help everyone in that small Disney store that she worked in. He just knew.

She was so different from him but they worked so well together. Or, at least, that’s what Calum liked to tell himself. He liked to ignore the fact that he kept so many secrets from her. It’s to keep her safe, he would tell himself but he knew that wasn’t the only reason. It was the impending fear that she would hate him, even if there wasn’t a cell in her body that could ever muster a disliking to anyone, especially him.

So he blocked out all of the thoughts. All of the ones that told him he had to tell her before she found out in a way he didn’t want her to, or before it became too late.

When the credits started to roll of the movie, Mel turned around in Calum’s lap, brown eyes meeting his as she stared up at him, kissing his lips before smiling at him. Calum stared back down at her, struggling to keep the smile off of his face as his hands held her securely by her hips.

“What’s goin’ on?” Calum questioned at the look he gave her, almost expectant as if she was waiting for him to do something.

“Movies finished.”

“I know,” Calum nodded his head at her statement, lifting a hand to brush a curl out of her face, “Pick another one.”

“I want you to pick one out. One of your movies.”

Calum went silent for a moment as she shifted back around to face the large flat-screen TV that took up a large chunk of the wall. It was significantly larger than the one that was in her and her roommate’s apartment, not that she lived there much anymore anyway.

It looked very expensive, and it was, but she never questioned it, just figuring that Calum had saved up a lot for it. Calum’s apartment was decently extravagant, but not completely in-your-face rich. Melanie had asked him on their first date what he did for a job, and although he said a bartender, which probably wouldn’t pay for all of the stuff he had, he had never done anything that would make her suspicious that he was lying.

Or maybe she was just too trusting of people.

“Alright,” Calum nodded his head as she passed the tv remote to him, “What about a gang movie? I like those.”

His eyes were trained on her face, and even though she tried to hide it, he saw the way her face clenched up slightly. His heart clenched and he started to stutter lightly, “O-Or we could watch an action film? Superheroes? I like those too. Probably more than gang movies if I’m being honest.”

“Cal.” She cut him off softly, rubbing his arm as she leaned against him, “If you wanna watch a gang movie we can watch one. I wanna see the type of stuff you like.”

The funny thing was, even though she didn’t know about the particularly dark part of his life, she knew everything else. She knew more about him than he ever cared to share with anyone. The only people that could probably rival her knowledge would be the three boys that he had known since he was a child.

“Ok,” He let out a breath of air as he clicked on one of his favorite films, holding her flushed against his chest as he tried his best to not get nervous. It was strange, how nervous he got over something as dumb as a movie with his favorite person.

Calum, admittedly, didn’t really watch the movie. He was far too bothered by the small flinches that Melanie made every time something gory or violent happened, the way that sometimes she turned around to hide in Calum’s chest, completely oblivious that the man she was using to hide from the violence was as violent as they come.

“Didn’t enjoy that much, did you baby?” Calum tried to joke lightly, trying to ease his own nerves with a joke as he looked at the girl who hugged against him. She wasn’t scared by any means, too calmed by being in her lover’s arms, but she knew she certainly wasn’t a big fan of stuff like that.

“Uhm,” She hesitated, trying to find the right words to say as a deep chuckle emitted from Calum’s chest, his hand gently running over her messy curls.

“It’s okay if you didn’t, Mel. I know you don’t like violence much.”

“Violence doesn’t solve anything. It just creates more issues and people get hurt,” She mumbled lightly as she looked up at Calum, who flashed her a tight-lipped smile.

If only she knew, he thought bitterly. If only she knew just how much violence that he caused, how many punches he threw, how many people had been sent into the hospital or even to the bottom of the river because of him. If only she knew about the crimson-stained clothes that he threw away just before she arrived that night, just in case she found it. He didn’t want that.

He didn’t want her to view him as the monster that he knew he was.

“How about we go make something?”

“Like cookies?”

He sent her a lopsided grin as he spoke, knowing from the way that her eyes lit up that cookies were going to be the only thing on her mind until they made some. Who was he to deny the gorgeous girl with the beaming smile on her face her cookies? “Why not?”

Her hand held tightly onto the whisk as she tried her best to whisk the mixture, sitting up on the counter with Calum watching her intently with a smile on his face. He could see as her arm went tired from the constant, intense whisking but she didn’t say anything, continuing to try and whisk it by herself.

“You want help there, baby?”

Her brown eyes glanced up at him, sending him a bashful smile as she rapidly held the bowl out to him, “Please.”

His arms, which had been crossed over his chest grabbed onto the bowl as he kicked himself away from the counter and closer towards the girl, muscles flexing as he began to whisk the mixture. She watched him with a small smile, admiring how he looked so perfect in a simple black t-shirt and trousers.

He was perfect. To her, he was anyway.

Soon enough, the cookies were unevenly spread out on the baking tray, due to Mel being distracted to stop Calum from eating the raw mixture. Every time that he tried, she would swat his hand with the spatula, and it was surprisingly sore for such a light hit with such an unthreatening object. They were popped in the oven -which they had forgotten to preheat- and left the two to chat, and for Calum to steal kisses in between their words.

He stood between her legs as Melanie sat up on the counter, his hands on either of her thighs, smiles on both of their faces.

“I love you, Cal,” Melanie whispered quietly, leaning in to softly press her lips against Calum’s, hands tangling in his t-shirt, playing with the soft fabric.

“I love you, Mel.”

It was beginning to become too late to tell her.

  It was almost as if Calum had this switch. A switch from where he went from being so happy and love-y with his girl, to an aggressive douchebag. Calum, if he wanted to be, could be cold, detached, and an ultimately scary human being. He was like that with most, and in fact, he was sure the only person he hadn’t been like that with was the person he loved most. 

At this current point in time, while his fist was colliding with a bruised and bloody boy, one that had very stupidly crossed the gang, he didn’t think of Melanie. It had to be the first time all day that he didn’t.

The boy in front of him was younger than him, by a few years, it seemed. Maybe eighteen, nineteen. This wouldn’t be the first time that Calum has had to deal with kids, unfortunately. Most of them far too dumb to realize what they were getting into. This one, however, he didn’t feel much remorse for since they had knowingly been spying on the gang, to feed back the information to someone. Calum needed to find out who.

“What’re they givin’ you, Kid? How many punches to the face before you start talking?” Calum aggressively called out, grabbing the beaten kid by the collar of his shirt, pulling him towards Calum slightly, making him look the gang member right in the eyes.

The boy limply turned his head to the side, spitting out the blood that was in his mouth before he looked back at the Maori boy, mouth parting as he began to talk, coming out in a rasp, “You’re Calum Hood, right?”

“What’s it to you, Kid?” Calum spat out aggressively. He was well-known, he knew that, especially amongst that world. Of course, the kid knew who he was.

The younger boy chuckled lightly, teeth showing off the red stain that Calum had made them, “My sister really is an idiot, isn’t she?”

“Your sister got you in this mess?”

“No, but she did get into a mess,” Calum stared down at the boy, eyebrows furrowed and getting more and more annoyed by the second when he couldn’t fully decipher the boy’s words. The boy scoffed as well as he could before mumbling, “God, Mel, you’re so stupid sometimes I swear.”

It was barely a mumble, but Calum had heard her name as clear as day, eyes widening slightly in disbelief.

“What?” Calum spat out, hand curling further into a fist as he stared down at the boy for asking.

“You might not know me, Calum. But you know my sister,” The boy drawled out, a sickening smirk somehow coming onto his face, despite how bloody, bruised, and swollen it was. The boy wasn’t dangerous, far from it actually, but right now he had the upper hand against Calum, “Melanie, her name is. Fairly acquainted are you not? It’d be awkward if you weren’t, to be honest.”

That’s when it clicked, Calum’s brown eyes ghosting over the boy’s beaten face, and it became so obvious. The curls, the distinct freckles...Even though the boy was beaten, he could still see the clear similarities between the boy he had just beaten up to the girl he loved with every fiber of his being.

“What the hell do you want?” Calum said with gritted teeth, hand tightening around the boy’s collar once again.

“What do I want?” Melanie’s brother asked, “I want you to turn around, Calum.”

Calum couldn’t help the defeat he felt when he did. All the anguish, grief, and guilt rising to the surface when he saw her standing there, staring at him with tears thick in her wide eyes and a terrified expression on her face.

“Mel...” He took a step forward, but she took a step back, profusely shaking her head.

“Don’t...Don’t come near me!” She had her eyes screwed shut, back up against the door behind her as she choked on her words.

She was terrified; something Calum never wanted her to be. He had vowed to himself that he would save her from every single fear she faced but this time he couldn’t. He couldn’t save her because he was her fear.

Melanie was scared of Calum.

“Flynn?” The girl called out to her brother, eyes briefly drifting over to him before flicking back over to Calum, making sure he stayed where he was. Flynn looked at his sister, the sight of his beaten face staring back at her making her feel sick, “Go outside. Please.”

At the sound of her broken plead, Calum felt like his heart had shattered in half. The gang member, in all of his life, had never felt so much pain, so helpless in his entire life. All because of one girl.

“Melanie...Baby, please, let me explain,” Calum didn’t take another step forward, scared that it would cause Melanie to run away or to cower away from him.

“How could you do this to him?” She asked, looking up at him with tears falling down her soft cheeks. All Calum wanted to do was hold her close and kiss her tears away, to comfort her but he couldn’t. When he didn’t reply, she pushed further, “How could you do this to me?”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Mel, please understand-” Calum broke down, tears pouring out of his eyes, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You’re a monster, Calum.”

Melanie had never felt more betrayed. She trusted Calum, with her life. She trusted him to make her feel safe; to keep the monsters in the world away from her. But he was the biggest monster she had ever met.

Their love, which she had thought of like a fairytale, a pure, white, fruitful love that she had cherished with every part of her existence, was destroyed. Every piece of comfort she had ever felt with the boy slowly crumbling and slipping through her fingers. She loved Calum, but she couldn’t love the monster he was hiding beneath. 

Melanie leaving him in the warehouse left a hole in his heart, he had never felt so weighed down in his entire life. After everything he had been through, every person he had punched, every person he had killed, it had never brought him so much emotion. Melanie was his weakness.

He leaned against the wall of his apartment as he kicked his shoes off, blood now nowhere to be seen on his body. Michael, god forgive him, had found Calum in the warehouse after Melanie had left, and had cleaned Calum up. Calum couldn’t even think about Melanie’s brother’s blood staining his clothes, the guilt and pain eating him alive.

Coming home certainly didn’t help.

It was void of her warmth and all of her things. The apartment was empty of their love like she had never even existed in his life. The only thing that even hinted towards her existence was the keys that sat on the kitchen counter and the note. A piece of paper that had clearly been ripped out of her favorite Disney notebook. 

‘here’s your keys back’ it read in her loopy handwriting, sealed with a mostly-dried tear that had fallen from her own eyes as she wrote. 

Calum had never felt more alone in his entire life. How could he ever have allowed himself to corrupt such a pure love with his tainted heart? 

[bopbopstyles]

1. December 26th, 2016

SERIES RATING: M (sex)

CHAPTER WORD COUNT: 6.4k

MASTERLIST | INSPO TAG | ASK

Y/N promised herself she would never date a musician. It was her one rule–her only rule, actually–when it came to dating. But then, Harry Styles rolled into her life and asked her to break it, just this once. And this is what happened.

A/N: welcome to chapter one of THE ONLY EXCEPTION! i’m so flipping excited i could scream!!!!!! this fic is going to be a long boi so buckle up. also thank you to @meetmeinfleetwood​ for supporting this fic from the start ilysm!!!! xoxo, willa

pls reblog to spread the word about only exception! 🥰

Y/N’s dad had been having these Christmas parties for the past five years or so, each time on the 26th of December, each time packed with music industry people and lots of bottles of tequila and red wine. Her first time had been two years ago, and she had found it surprisingly enjoyable—she had expected it to be boring and to want to leave after the first hour. Instead, it was full of people she had known since she was a kid, musicians and producers and her dad’s old A&R guys who she had grown up hanging out with in recording studios and backstage at her dad’s shows. They had come to family dinners before and after her parents’ divorce, and so when she ran into them at the parties it was easy to catch them up on her life and suddenly it was after midnight and the party was emptying out. 

This year she had volunteered to help set up. Her dad had rented a massive house out in the hills and it came already decorated, but it was on Y/N to make sure there were chairs set up for the music circle, a massive bar laid out and plenty of glasses ready. Her dad’s friend was making the food, eager to use the opportunity to promote the new restaurant he was opening, so when Y/N opened the door it already smelled like garlic and olive oil, her favorite scents on earth. 

“Karl!” She called through the house, shutting the heavy oak door behind her. Her arms were laden with boxes of plastic glasses—her dad was too scared of the guests breaking glass ones—and she wandered into the kitchen. The tall ceilings of the entryway where a massive Christmas tree sat adorned with ornaments gave way to a modern, sleek kitchen. Karl twirled around to greet her, a grin on his face. “Smells delicious in here.”

He set down his spatula and came over, grabbing a box and giving her a kiss on each cheek. “Hello, darling. Are there more in the car?” 

She shook her head, unwinding her scarf from her neck and placing it on the counter. Karl had been her father’s college roommate and somehow they’d stayed close over the years, every one of Y/N’s birthdays spent at one of Karl’s restaurants with all of her favorite dishes made special, a birthday cannoli with a candle in it for her to blow out. “This is all of the glasses. Dad told me to get the bar ready—he’s bringing the booze in a bit.”

“Hope there’s a glass of wine in there for the chef,” Karl said and Y/N chuckled—there always was a bottle of Karl’s favorite expensive wine set aside when he did one of these things and he knew it. It was part of the pay, her father always said. “Want to taste test?”

“Always.” Y/N joined Karl at the stove, eagerly tasting the sauce he was cooking. It was a simple sage butter sauce, but Karl always excelled at the most simple dishes. “Delicious, as usual,” she said. 

Karl jabbered her ear off about the updates on the restaurant—they’d run into problems finding a good sous chef and he was about to do the job himself if he didn’t find someone soon—while Y/N decided where to set up the bar. Finally, she settled on a high table against the glass wall in the wide hallway between the kitchen and the sprawling dining room, which opened up onto the patio. She tugged open the accordion glass doors and breathed in the cool Los Angeles air, thankful for a relatively cold evening, since she always got overheated at parties like this, where people were crammed into every corner. Her dad seemed to know more people every year. Satisfied with the position of the table, she set out the glasses and paper napkins, before asking Karl if he had an extra cooler he’d brought with. She’d forgotten to ask her dad for one before she had left. She filled it with ice and set it next to the table with a scoop, and grabbed the special shot glasses her father had told her to bring, placing them on the table next to a bouquet of flowers. 

Her job done, she wandered through the rest of the house. It was gorgeous—she wondered how her father had found it. If she remembered correctly, he had said something about it being an official venue for music and parties, he’d done a private gig here a few years back and the owners had loved him enough to offer it for this party. It’s not like anyone really had gigs on December 26th anyway. She closed all the doors to the back bedrooms, remembering her father’s request, and set up a coat closet of sorts out of the bedroom closest to the front, before heading to change into her outfit for the evening. 

“Y/N!” She was securing her favorite pair of earrings in her ears when she heard her father’s voice through the halls of the house. “Where ya at, sweetheart?”

“One sec, Dad!” She grabbed the hanger she had kept her top on and shoved it into her massive purse, settling it into the back corner of the room for safety. Her father was waiting for her in the kitchen with Karl, also getting a sample of the sauce she had tried earlier. 

“Hi you,” her father said when she came in. His salt and pepper hair was balding a bit, but his bright smile was what drew people in, olive skin that tanned easily in the California sun. Y/N had selected his suit for the evening, a maroon red and a black tie, something a bit out of the ordinary for him, but Y/N loved it. “Look gorgeous.”

She hugged her father tightly. She had spent Christmas with her mother, as usual, so this was the first time she’d seen her dad during the holidays. “Not too bad yourself, captain.”

“Ha!” Her father pinched her cheek softly, just as he had when she was a child. “I’ve got your present in the car, come grab it with me?”

“Sure.” They had decided to exchange gifts at the party and Y/N had hers tucked in the back pocket of her jeans—dinner on her at Karl’s new restaurant, something she’d discussed with the owner a few weeks ago. Her father’s car sat in the driveway, trunk open where boxes of alcohol laid waiting to be carried inside. “That my gift?”

“You wish,” her dad answered, and Y/N gave him a pouty look that he just shook his head at. He reached into the glove compartment and pulled out an envelope. Y/N couldn’t help but hope it was cash—she needed a new computer and was running a bit short. She knew her dad would help if she asked, but she hated asking him for money. 

She took the envelope and opened it, a sheet of paper and something thicker hiding between its folds. She opened the letter and found a homemade coupon of sorts, just as she had done for him. 

TWO TICKETS TO ANY SHOW IN LA - NON-REFUNDABLE, FUN REQUIRED!

“Papa,” she said, giving him a beaming smile. “My favorite!” She threw her arms around his neck and he chuckled, hugging her right back. 

“Just give me a few weeks heads up, okay?”

Y/N nodded, and looked back down at the letter, eyes running over her dad’s sweet words of love and pride. It was their thing—homemade cards always, never store bought, despite that neither of them could draw. “Thank you.” 

“Welcome, sweetheart.”

“Now yours!” She reached into her pocket and pulled out his envelope, aptly addressed, Dad, and handed it over. Her father read her card as well, and chuckled at her drawing of them at dinner together. 

He kissed her forehead gently. “Thank you. It’s perfect.”

“Merry Christmas,” she said, squeezing his side. “Now let’s get all this booze out of your car before I drive away with it!” Her dad laughed and followed her to the back of the car, them each grabbing a carton of wine. There had to be enough for over a hundred people, Y/N thought to herself. Who would be new this year?

The party was in full swing, her dad’s favorite music playing softly through the speaker system, people littered all over the house with the alcohol flowing. Karl was cooking up a storm in the kitchen, his food a massive hit, and Y/N couldn’t have been happier for him. She’d caught up with her dad’s friends and people who were essentially her godparents, sharing how her job was going (fine) and her relationship prospects (non-existent), sipping tequila and red wine on rotation. 

Y/N leaned against the patio railing overlooking the hills, a glass of tequila on the rocks settled in between her palms. She could hear her father’s voice in the distance calling people to come and start the music, the scrape of chairs and strumming of guitars. It was about time for her to go in, but she lingered, relishing the quiet of the night and the biting air wrapping around her. Since she didn’t play an instrument, despite her father’s attempts, this part of the evening was the part where she just sat back and observed. And also usually got quite drunk since all she had to do was drink and sing along. 

“Y/N, right?” She turned around, eyes focusing on the person standing a few feet away. “I’m Harry.”

Harry Styles. How had he ended up here, and how had she not seen him yet? “Nice to meet you,” she answered, standing up straight and taking a sip of her drink. “Not going in to play?”

He shook his head. “Bit nervous, if I’m honest. Lot of talent in that room.”

She cocked her head to the side as he joined her at the railing. “You’re plenty talented,” she told him. It was true. She was a huge fan of his, had been for a while, following his work in One Direction since its inception, and now in the solo career her dad had mentioned. He was recording with some guys out at The Village a few months ago and called her at the end of the day, saying he ran into Harry Styles in the middle of a session doing some solo stuff. Said it sounded good, which she wasn’t surprised by in the slightest. 

But Harry just chuckled. “Nah, those people are legends,” he said. She knew who he was talking about, too. One of the Dixie Chicks was there, some guys who had written with John Mayer and Kanye West, a dozen other Grammy-nominated musicians, some record label execs who had practically formed the industry as they knew it today, the A&R people who had found them. It was intimidating, definitely, but for Harry she didn’t think it would be. 

“Just people.” She sipped on her drink, studying him. He was in a long black coat, a loose black v-neck silk shirt and red and white plaid pants that tapered at the leg, his cropped curls falling into his face slightly. He also had a tequila on the rocks gripped in his hand, rings adorning every one of his fingers. A skull, a red stone, a silver band, amongst them. “Having fun?”

He smiles at her, thankful for the change of topic. “Loads. Haven’t been at a party like this in a while.”

“What do you mean?”

The breeze passed between them, ruffling his hair a bit. “I don’t know. Just, people who didn’t really give a shit about me, if you know what I mean? Holidays can be a bit much sometimes.”

She nodded as if she understood what it felt like to be a popstar of his fame, which she didn’t, but she could imagine. “Didn’t go home?”

“My mum and sister came here, actually,” he said. “They were craving a respite from the cold English winters.”

“Well, this is definitely a respite,” Y/N said, and Harry chuckled.

Silence stretched between them and Y/N tapped her fingernails against her cup. Maybe it was time to go inside, she thought. “So, Y/N, what do you do?”

His question pulled her out of her head easily. “Brand strategy,” she answered, thankful for a comfortable topic. “I work mostly with fashion and product companies, preferably sustainable ones.”

“You like it?”

“Love it.” She did. She loved her work—she’d gone to school for it and thrown herself into it after school, loving pitching projects for clients and helping them understand their core purpose and how they could grow and evolve  most authentically. “It was that or books, but I decided this was a bit more profitable. Also wasn’t too keen on living in New York.”

Harry nodded, twirling his glass in his hands. She took the opportunity to run her eyes across his face—he was gorgeous in this way that you weren’t sure was real. It was interesting to see how much he’d grown up. At 22, his cheekbones were cut and his jaw defined, his former long locks he had recently cut and Y/N liked these more, she decided. “What are your favorite writers?” He asked, pulling Y/N back into the conversation. 

“That’s like asking which one of your children is your favorite,” she joked, and he chuckled, the sound music to Y/N’s ears. “Dunno, really. I read so much it’s hard to choose, you know? Reading a Louise Erdrich book right now that’s absolutely stellar. The Round House—you should give it a go if you’ve got the time.”

He pulled out his phone and she watched him type in the name to his Notes app, the action making her smile. “Been looking for a new book,” he said. “Just been reading The New Yorker and my mum about took my head off for not reading enough.” They both laughed, the sound filling the night air. 

“Harry!” A man was standing in the doorway to the patio, a guitar in hand. “Come sing, mate.”

Harry glanced back at Y/N. “Coming?”

Y/N nodded and followed him inside, refilling her glass on the way. Harry handed her his, and she did the same, giving them both another glass of tequila to sip on while they listened to the circle of musicians. Someone had decided to do some Christmas tunes she Y/N smiled when she heard her father’s voice—he’d made it a bit country, just like he loved to do with popular songs. He’d grown up on a steady diet of folk music and country, just as Y/N had, and he always joked it was in his blood. Harry took a seat next to his friend who Y/N didn’t recognize—probably some producer her dad had met recently, maybe one of the guys from The Village if that was how they’d connected, and Y/N grabbed the seat her dad had saved for her next to him. 

She joined in immediately, knowing this rendition of “The Little Drummer Boy” by heart, since it was the same one he had made up when Y/N was eight or nine. Karl was in the circle too, a plate of food in his hands and his bottle of red wine on the ground, and he gave her a warm smile. This was her favorite part of the night—feeling a part of something her father loved so dearly. When he gave her a kiss to her temple and introduced her to the group, she couldn’t help but find Harry’s eyes, his irises twinkling back at her under the lights. 

At one o’clock, people finally began filtering out of the party, and Harry decided it was probably time for him to head. Jeff, who had invited him to come with, had already left, exhausted from the holidays with family, but Harry had stayed, hoping to talk to Y/N for a little while longer. He had unfortunately failed to catch her, though, the music running long and after it had wrapped up people had tugged her in for hugs and conversation. Despite knowing who she was through her father, he was still in awe of how intimately she knew all of these people. He overheard snippets of her conversations, asking about children and partners, parents who had cancer and career-defining moments she’d missed out on because of work. Harry was in this world too, but many of the people at this party were a bit older than his usual set—they belonged to the group of his heroes, rather than necessarily people he felt were his peers. He was still getting his solo career together, still only a boyband member in their eyes. He tried not to feel less than, but sometimes it was hard when you were sat next to Natalie Maines of the Dixie Chicks with utterly nothing to say but awe-inspired ramblings. 

Finally, Y/N was alone, the older couple she was talking to having left for the door, and Harry seized the opportunity. “Y/N,” he said, and her head popped up from her phone to look at him. Her dark brown hair was soft against her skin, and he eagerly wondered what it felt like against his skin, brown eyes that searched his soul. “I loved talking to you earlier.”

She smiled and Harry loved it when she did. Lit up the whole room, just about. “Me too. Glad you came—with Jeff, yeah?”

He nodded. “He introduced me to your dad when we were at The Village.” Y/N nodded as well, obviously having figured out the story. “I—I was wondering, would you want to grab coffee sometime? I’d love to chat more, get to know you.” He restrained the urge to bounce on his heels, nervous in front of her. He felt like a kid asking out his crush, but that’s what this was, a crush. Even if it came to nothing, she was kind, interesting, and fit into the world he revolved in. It wasn’t the most important thing, but he appreciated it all the same. 

“Oh,” she said, tone somber. “Sorry, Harry, but I don’t date musicians. Get home safe, yeah?” She turned away from him, feet carrying her back into the living room, presumably finding her father.

What? She didn’t date musicians? “I’m sorry—what?”

Y/N turned back to look at him. “I just don’t. Bit of a rule.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “Don’t feel the need to explain it. Bye, Harry.” Then, she walked away and Harry was left in shock. The abrupt change in tone was like whiplash—she had seemed so interested, involved in their conversation, only to tell him she didn’t date musicians? What the fuck kind of rule was that? 

He huffed and tugged out his phone to tell his driver he was ready, and went outside, leaving behind Y/N and her confusing rule. But this wouldn’t be the last time he saw her, he decided. He wanted to know why she had this rule, this stupid rule that was stopping her from getting to know him. It wasn’t like he even asked her to date him, just to get coffee for Pete’s sake. Harry sat down in the car and pulled out his phone, composing a text to Jeff. 

Could I write with Peter? Seemed like a great guy, really talented. Maybe if she got to Y/N’s dad, he could earn some brownie points. Maybe then she’d bend her rules for him, because despite their short conversation, Harry was intrigued. 

Definitely, Jeff replied. I’ll text him tomorrow.

Harry closed his phone and smiled. Hopefully this worked, because Harry was dying to know more about this rule of hers. 

Y/N’s eyes narrowed when she pulled into her dad’s driveway. There was another car sat in the drive, a black 4-door SUV she’d never seen before, the windows tinted so she couldn’t see in. It reminded her of those cars the FBI drives in crime dramas, which obviously led her to a part of her brain that was not necessarily a hopeful place. She scrambled to grab her bag from work and her keys, launching herself from her car and towards her dad’s door. 

“Dad!” She called into the house, slamming the door shut behind her. “Whose car is in the drive? Didn’t tell me we’d be having company!” Gripping the wall for balance she toed off her shoes and set her bag on the floor next to the door, shrugging off her coat and setting it on a hook. “Dad?”

“He’s in the toilet.”

Her head whipped around and found Harry Styles standing in her hallway, hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans. As much as she had planned to forget about him after the party, never really expecting to see him again, she hadn’t been able to. And now he was in her house, hair pushed back from his face, a grin painted on his lips. It was irritating how gorgeous he was. “The fuck are you doing here?”

A hand went up to scratch the back of his neck and for a second Y/N regretted being quite so aggressive. “‘M writing with your dad,” he explained. “Guess he didn’t tell you.”

“No,” she answered. She brushed past him into the living room where, as Harry had said, it was obvious they had been writing. Her dad’s treasured old Gibson guitar leaning against his favorite armchair where he’d set it, computers out with GarageBand up for recording demos, papers with scribbles strewn across the coffee table. “Good session?” She decided that there was no way he was here just to pursue her—he was there for professional reasons, after all. Her dad and Harry must’ve hit it off at the party last week. There was also the fact that her dad was a really fucking good songwriter, so of course Harry would want to work with him. Ever since he’d stopped touring, her dad had started doing mainly writing, his songs appearing on records from everyone from up-and-coming artists the label found him to John Legend. 

Harry just nodded. Her eyes drifted to his own guitar, a soft brown wood that had obviously seen some heavy use and travel. She recognized it from her dad’s own guitars that he used to take on the road with him, the nicks and faded wood at the base of the bridge. 

“Y/N!” Her dad’s voice fell through the silence of the room as he re-entered. He was wearing his favorite old UCLA shirt, where she’d just graduated from not too long ago. “Home earlier than usual. Was going to give you a heads up about this one,” he pointed to Harry then, “but I see you’ve already found out.”

Her eyes drifted to Harry, who stood awkwardly next to the couch, unsure if he should sit or stand. “Finished my projects early and didn’t have any meetings, so thought I’d get out early and surprise you.”

“Well,” her father said, giving her a quick hug, “glad you did. I’m getting hungry, how about you?” She nodded, she was always ravenous after work. “Harry, would you want to stay for dinner?”

No, she thought. The last thing she wanted was to sit at a table with a guy she’d rejected and her father and eat an awkward dinner on a Friday night. She just wanted a massive glass of red wine, her delicious romance novel from her bedside table, and maybe lighting a fire in the pit in the backyard. 

Instead, Harry said, “Sure. Don’t want to impose though.”

“Nonsense! Y/N why don’t you go change and Harry and I can tidy up from working. We were about done anyway.” Her dad kissed the top of her head sweetly and she just did as he said, Harry a forgotten thought behind her as she went to her room upstairs. 

It was her childhood bedroom which she had been residing in for a month now. How her landlord could put her out for this long was beyond her, but she hadn’t had the energy to fight it—plus, it was an opportunity to spend some quality time with her workaholic father. So she was spending her evenings in her light blue colored room, sleeping between her soft pink sheets, and picking her work clothes that butted up against remnants from high school she’d left behind as memories. Y/N pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a loose white t-shirt that probably belonged to an ex-fling from college—Daniel maybe? Y/N couldn’t remember. Slipping on a pair of socks to keep her feet warm from the tile floors of the kitchen, she left her room, tugging her door shut so if Harry went exploring he wouldn’t stumble into her room. 

Downstairs, Harry was sat at the kitchen island with a glass of wine and a smile on his face, deep in conversation with her dad about Fleetwood Mac’s chord progressions. A glass of red was waiting for her on the counter and she picked it up, wandering over to where her dad was cooking

“Whatcha making?” She asked, peeking into the pot. 

“Pasta,” he replied. “Now stop being a nosy Nelly and talk to our guest while I try to focus on not burning the pasta.”

“Dad you haven’t even put it in yet.”

Her dad shooed her from the stove and she chuckled, backing away. “Get out of here, ya pest.”

She turned to Harry, realizing her dad was actively trying to get them to hang out. He was so annoying sometimes. “How do you feel about a fire?”

“Positively,” he answered and she led him outside into her backyard. 

It was chilly out, but nothing too bad. She set her glass on the table and went over to the stack of wood her dad kept against the fence, picking up some logs and carrying them over to the fire pit they’d had for years. At first it was so Y/N could roast marshmallows at home, her father trying to do anything to get her to come over to his house more after the divorce, and as time had gone on it had become her favorite place in the whole house. When her dad was out of town and she came over to check up on the house in high school, she’d bring her weed and smoke out here under the stars. 

Harry sidled up next to her and picked up a few logs, following her to the fire pit. “This is cool,” he said, words breaking their silence. 

Y/N dropped the logs into the fire and looked up at him. “Favorite part of the whole house.” A box of matches sat next to the door and she grabbed them, as well as some kindling, and brought it over to the logs, setting the kindling under the logs before lighting them. The fire leaped up, the wood nice and dry from the lack of rain recently. “So, who got in touch with who?”

Harry looked at her in confusion. “Huh?”

She settled into one of the chairs set by the fire, wine tucked between her fingers. “The writing. You or my dad?”

“Oh,” he answered, joining her in the chair next to her. “Me, actually. Through Jeff.”

As expected. “And?”

“He’s really good,” Harry said, to which Y/N chuckled. 

“That he is.”

“What was it like growing up with him as your dad?” He asked, breaking the silence between them.

Y/N shifted in her chair. She’d been asked this question so many times over the years, but it still was hard to answer. “Hard, if I’m being honest,” she told him, truth surprising her. But she had a feeling Harry would get it to a certain extent. He was a hugely popular star, after all. She’d heard rumors that he was a part of a movie coming out this year, something historical. “Like, my parents are divorced, which I assume you know.” He nodded,  probably having figured it out by now. “And with my dad’s tour schedule when I was in school, I didn’t see him all that much, especially in elementary and middle school. He was gone all the time, even missed my birthday a couple times because of tour dates, so I just didn’t really know him that well, I guess. Fuck, sorry, this is a lot,” she breathed out, realizing she was rambling. Harry was just surprisingly easy to talk to, his eyes steady on her, intently listening to her every word. Boys didn’t usually listen to her like this.

“S’fine,” he replied. “When did it change, if you don’t mind me asking? Seem so close now.”

The fire, having grown by now, crackled in front of them. “Late high school, but mainly when I was in college. My mom moved to San Francisco for a job and I went to UCLA, so my dad was closest. Came over to do my laundry sometimes, have a home cooked meal, he’d take me to dinner, that stuff. Came to football games with me, sometimes, which he always tried to be interested in but never succeeded.” Harry chuckled at that and Y/N smiled at the sound. Harry was obnoxiously pretty. Like, impossibly pretty in this way where you couldn’t help but look at him again to make sure that yes, he was a real person. And it was really fucking distracting. “His touring kind of stopped when I went into college too,” she added, trying to refocus on the conversation. “Started writing mainly, putting out music only when it suited him. He’s a lot happier now, I think.”

“That’s good,” he said, taking a sip of wine. “I’m glad you guys were able to have that kind of relationship, even if it was later.”

Y/N blinked at him, his words so kind and honest. “Me too.”

“Always been one of my fears, if I’m being honest,” he said, words soft in the cool night air. Sun was starting to set and it was getting dark around them, the light of the fire putting an orange ember to his face. “About having kids with my career, you know? I want to be a dad, but it’s like…how do I do that while being gone all the time?” His honesty shocked her, but then again Harry Styles seemed to be excelling at that in every regard. “Sorry, that’s a lot to unload on you.”

“No it isn’t,” she reassured him. “Just told you about all my daddy issues, yeah?” He chuckled, and it lightened the mood just enough. “You’ll figure it out.”

Harry nodded, taking another sip of his wine and she did the same. It was her favorite, the one her dad bought multiple of whenever she came to stay. Even though they’d gotten closer over the years, his desire to make his house perfect for her never seemed to fade. “Can I ask you something else?”

“Shoot.”

“The rule—I—why is that?”

Well, fuck. This was the exact conversation she didn’t want to have, the one she was hoping he wouldn’t bring up. “It’s actually related to what you were just saying,” she said slowly. He’d get it after everything she’d explained and the fears he shared, right? “I don’t date musicians because they’re always gone.”

Harry was quiet, absorbing her answer. It was true, they always were gone—she had every right to her rule, she told herself. She didn’t want a repeat of what her parents had experienced, what she’d experienced. Her dad’s job had ruined everything in their family, ripping her parents apart, keeping him away from her for more of the year than he was home. She didn’t want the same thing for her kids. “That’s a pretty broad stroke, isn’t it?” Harry said though, pushing back against her. “Like all musicians. Kinda a generalization ‘bout us.”

“You said it yourself,” she said, leaning forward in her chair and resting her elbows on her thighs. “You’re gone all the time. How do you build a life with someone who isn’t there half the time?”

“Devil’s advocate,” Harry said, setting his wine on the arm of his chair, “but hypothetically you’re dating someone who tours all the time. But they make you a priority, coming home and seeing you, putting your relationship first. That wouldn’t matter? You wouldn’t even take the chance that it could work out okay?”

This time it was Y/N who was quiet. “I mean, musicians only have so much control over their schedules,” she said, remembering the excuses her dad used to tell her. “Plus, it’s not the relationship that’s the problem. It’s the part when you get to marriage and kids.”

“…So it’s better to just avoid the whole thing entirely?”

Y/N nodded, her logic laid out in front of her. She’d never had to do this before—most times, guys just took her at her word and dropped it all together. Harry pushed though, wanting to understand in a way the others didn’t care enough to do. “It’s safer.”

“But then you miss out on the opportunity to fall in love with someone,” Harry says, his words like rocks in her stomach. “And what if that person was a musician?”

Y/N had a feeling they were no longer talking in hypotheticals. “We can fall in love with tons of different people.”

“No soulmates and shit for you, then?” She shook her head. She didn’t believe in all that crap, never had. Relationships were about work, effort, time. The person was important, but the life that person led mattered more to her. How much they’d prioritize the relationship, the kind of life they wanted to build. “That’s kind of depressing,” Harry said. 

The fire crackled and popped. “I don’t think so. It’s…practical.”

“Love isn’t supposed to be practical, Y/N.”

Y/N found herself speechless. She didn’t have an answer for him. She’d never been in love before, that was for sure. Hadn’t found that kind of love that people like Harry write songs about and she’d often found herself wondering when it was going to happen for her. There just hadn’t been any guys that were right for her yet. 

“Y/N! Harry!” She turned and her dad was in the doorway, pasta sauce splattered on his shirt. He’d always been a messy cook. “Dinner’s ready.”

Y/N took one last look at Harry before grabbing her wine and heading inside, Harry following at her heels. 

After dinner, Harry decided this was his last chance at Y/N. He couldn’t exactly use the same excuse twice and after understanding her rule, he was determined to be the exception. He helped Y/N clear the plates while her dad settled in at the TV in the other room, telling them it was his time to watch the nightly news and they could clean up since he had cooked. Harry had missed being in a home like this, the kind where he got told to clean up from dinner and there was calm and normal conversation at the table, Y/N talking about her day at work and Harry sharing about his activities from his mum’s visit. It brought him a kind of peace he didn’t know he needed. 

The plate clattered on the counter as he set it down, Y/N turning, her hands soapy with the water from the dishes. “Gonna break our dishes,” she said with a snort. “Be careful, please.”

“Sorry,” Harry said sheepishly. He’d cleared the table, so he grabbed a dish rag from the peg and joined Y/N at the sink, taking the clean dishes from the rack and drying them, stacking them on the counter since he didn’t know where they belonged in the cabinets. 

They worked in silence, the only sound her dad’s TV from the other room. He could hear Rachel Maddow’s show on NBC, the same one he liked to watch, learning from her commentary on American politics that he was still trying to wrap his brain around. 

“Y/N,” he said when they’d finished the dishes. “I promise I heard everything you said earlier.” She looked at him with curiosity in her eyes, trying to figure out where he was going with this. Harry tried to pick his words delicately, wanting to make sure she knew he did hear her, he was just entranced by her and couldn’t give her up. “But what is the likelihood you would be willing to give it a shot? With me?”

She took the dish towel from his hands and dried her own, considering his words. The waiting was killing him, but he didn’t want to rush her. He knew what her worries were and he was asking her to put them aside. 

“We’ll take it slow,” he told her, stumbling over the words. “Promise. You set the pace, you decide about commitments. I just…” Can’t stop thinking about you.

But then Y/N surprised him by saying, “I know. I feel that way too.” His eyes widened, not believing the words from her mouth. “I’ll give it a shot,” she said slowly. “Better make the date good.”

“You sure?”

“I wouldn’t ask again unless you’d like me to change my mind.”

“Can I get your number then?” She nodded and read it off, Harry typing the numbers into his phone next to her name. Then Harry shut up and just smiled at her, following her like a puppy dog into the other room where her dad sat watching TV. She curled up on the couch, pulling the blanket her dad had so it would cover part of her and his heart softened at how sweet she looked. He loved seeing her like this, at home, comfortable in her space. “I’m going to head out,” he said. “Thank you so much for dinner, Peter.”

Y/N’s dad turned from the TV and gave him a wide smile. “Of course, Harry. You’re welcome anytime—wouldn’t want you to get lonely out here!”

His eyes drifted to Y/N and he knew that with her around, there was never anyway he could be lonely.

TAGLIST

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Would you like to know when I update The Only Exception? Let me know here!

NEXT CHAPTER COMING JULY 4TH @ NOON CST

[arhvste]

☼just until i win☼

WRITTEN CHAPTER - WILL CHECK SPELLING ERRORS LATER

an - the inspo for this chapter was : stay - post malone and a little bit of moral of the story - ashe

big thank you to my pretty and talented wife @totorosleaff​ for the end ;) ily wifey 💕💗💖💘💞✨

soz lol lmao haha

-

atsumu, bokuto and y/n made their way out of the training grounds and through to the back exit where a car was waiting to take them. the head coach had advised the three travel privately to avoid disruption from the public and causing an unneeded scene.

as usual, bokuto was his excitable self chatting to the pair about how excited he way to go into tokyo and get refitted for a new jersey. y/n found herself smiling and listening to the boy patiently, but this didn't stop her from noticing that atsumu had been strangely quiet since he’d come downstairs to meet the pair. usually he’d have comments and contribute to the conversation and usual banter they would usually have, but today he sat quietly and looked bothered by something.

after 15 minutes of talking y/n’s ear off, bokuto had busied himself looking out the window and taking countless photos of himself and the scenery they drove past to send to akaashi. y/n turned to face atsumu who was staring mindlessly in front of him.

“what’s up with you this morning?”

atsumu was brought out of his trance as he turned to face the concerned girl.

“nothin. just tired.”

blunt response. but that's what atsumu was known to be. he never felt the need to beat around the bush, he always got straight to the point and would give blunt answers with no mind of anyone else’s opinion on the matter.

you hummed and studied his face. maybe he was tired, you couldn't say for sure, but even when he genuinely had been in the past he had still managed to seem a bit more optimistic than what he was being today.

deciding to let it go, you pulled out your phone to check through your emails and messages from the PR team and message ICS, the company who provided and sponsored the team for uniform and such, that the three were on their way and would be in their company within the next hour if traffic wasn't heavy.

-

the three arrived at their destination after travelling what felt like hours, but in reality was only an hour and a half. sure, the training grounds were in tokyo but to get to the other side where ICS were based, traffic and routes extended the journey for longer than one would think. 

bokuto had ended up falling asleep, y/n had spent most of her time replying to emails and sending updates of training regimes and schedules back and fourth to iwaizumi and the head coach and atsumu had more a less sulked the whole journey.

“okay you two remember what i said, in and out. got it?”

the two nodded, bokuto showing a lot more energy than atsumu. the three were escorted out of the vehicle and into the back entrance of the ICS head offices. upon entering, the three were greeted by several workers who offered their hospitality and good luck for their upcoming games.

after checking in and being led to a waiting room, the trio let out a sigh of relief upon managing to arrive without any disturbance. 

bokuto insisted he needed to go to the toilet before they got called in to get fitted and was directed down the hall to the closest one. 

the silence between atsumu and y/n was tense and unsettling which was unusual. both obviously wanted to say something to desperately fill the deafening void of silence but neither knew what to say.

“so, oikawa will be back soon huh. guess we’re not going to see you for a bit.”

y/n’s eyes widened slightly. why wouldn't she be seeing her own team for a while just because oikawa was arriving back home.

“no. you’re my main priority right now. i’ll see more of him after the games, i’m a trainer for you not him.”

atsumu tilted his head and turned away for a moment.

you stared at the boy in utter confusion. he had been acting up lately and you hadn't a clue why. osamu’s message about his behaviour had been living rent free in your mind since the night he messaged you privately. the same night atsumu told the group he was making it his own responsibility to look out for y/n.

y/n smiled slightly at the memory. the two would bicker childishly with atsumu refusing to take y/n’s orders seriously and y/n growing tired of his endless teasing, but their friendship was good. they were both open and understanding towards each other just how y/n was with every other msby player on the team. sure, she had been polite to the new players when the 4 black jackals had been scouted to the national team, but y/n had a soft spot for the 4 boys she had been training before teaming up with iwaizumi to take on a national team.

atsumu wasn’t someone who hid his emotions well. he was expressive and didn't care who was around if he wanted to make a scene. he was open and honest and that was something y/n appreciated. she did notice that he’d often struggle to sympathise and comfort others though. he’d prefer not to show his vulnerability and put up a rather bland and tough front to break through at times. after atsumu had declared his views on the whole situation, y/n couldn't help but feel warm inside when atsumu showed he cared. it must've really meant something to him because he wasn’t the type to openly care about things especially not situations like you were currently in. it was nice to know he cared but you were bothered by the fact he felt affected. he shouldn't have to worry about such things when the situation didn't directly concern him.

“you know i’m proud of ya right?”

atsumu mumbled quietly his face still turned away.

“hm?”

“like, you've ‘ad to put up with alotta shit recently and ya still manage to show up and train us everyday and keep us motivated. we’ve never thanked ya for everythin you've done for us n’ no matter what i’m always gonna ‘ave yer back”

once again miya atsumu had left y/n speechless. 

y/n smiled at him as he slowly turned to face her again.

“thanks atsumu, it means a lot. i hope you know how proud i am of all of you individually though, that's why i want to do my best to make sure you can do yours too.”

he gave her a small smile before relaxing back into his chair.

the once heavy silence now lifted as the two of them sat there smiling waiting for the inevitable return of their ace.

-

the rest of the afternoon went by swiftly, none of them had realised they’d ended up spending most of the day in the offices as the process took a little longer than y/n had initially thought. both boys got remeasured and to their satisfaction they had indeed built up more muscle from their intense training causing their new jerseys having to be altered quite a bit from their last ones. after that, they were taken into a studio for updated shots to be taken of them for future reference for if they ever needed any more altercations done in the time to come, lunch was provided for them all as they took a break and another 2 hours was taken up discussing when the jerseys could be collected and y/n had gone to contact iwaizumi to check if any other players needed any extra uniform or anything else sent to them while she was there.

since y/n’s last conversation with atsumu, he’d seemed to have perked up more and was sharing the normal banter he usually would with both bokuto and yourself as they got measured and fitted.

with a final thanks to the team at ICS, the three team japan members were taken back to the car waiting out the back for them. 

despite the fact, all three had spent most of the day out, it hadn’t felt like long. y/n’s body said otherwise though as she found herself feeling slightly drowsy on the ride back to the dorms. atsumu and bokuto looked at each other as y/n leant against the window resting her eyes and tipping between the state of falling asleep and barely staying conscious. 

they had to get y/n back to her apartment for the party oikawa and the others had been planning for her for the past few weeks. 

“hey, you good?”

bokuto tapped y/n gently as he gave her a warm smile to which the girl returned.

“yeah, just a little worn out but i’ll rest a little later. thank you both for being so compliant with myself and the others today, you’re both stars.”

atsumu leant forward so he could look at the fitness trainer.

“could ya repeat that, record it and send it to the group chat, i don't think omi or samu would believe us if we told em you just said that.”

there was the atsumu y/n knew. he had snapped out of whatever mood he had been in recently and completely returned to her now.

she snickered softly and gently flicked his forehead.

“they're just gonna have to take your word for it tsumu.”

and just like that, y/n rested her head back against the window and allowed her eyes to shut for just a few moments. 

wasting no time, bokuto causally took out his phone and turned the brightness down in hopes not to catch y/n’s attention. opening his contacts he dropped a quick text to iwaizumi to let him know the three of them were on their way back and should be arriving within the next 45 minutes at the latest. 

5 minutes later iwaizumi responded thanking him for the update and letting him know more-a-less everything was ready for y/n to return to. they just needed to get her home back to her apartment without raising any suspicion from her. 

-

30 minutes had passed and the car was driving through the now familiar scenes of tokyo y/n, bokuto and atsumu were more used to. y/n had drifted off into a light sleep, bokuto updating Iwaizumi and akaashi every so often and atsumu had been gathering his thoughts while staring out the window. 

the familiar views of certain signs and buildings invaded atsumu’s view as he noted that they were almost back to y/n’s apartment. he nudged bokuto and signalled for him to wake y/n up gently as carrying her to the apartment building was not going to be an option.

“hey y/n, we’re almost back to your apartment.”

bokuto gently shook the peacefully sleeping girl as she began to stir in her sleep.

atsumu watched as y/n rubbed her eyes and gently smiled at the two boys. just seeing her like this made him anxious. y/n was anything but weak but seeing her so gentle and soft made atsumu feel like he had even more reason to make sure she was kept from harm both physically and emotionally. 

as the three grew closer to y/n and iwaizumi’s shared apartment atsmu’s nerves grew a little. y/n had announced she was dating the argentina player almost a year ago now and atsumu had yet to meet him. he had grown close to y/n with her being their athletics trainer for msby. he found himself respecting and trusting the girl as she grew along with the team and he found a comfort in her also announcing that she was going to be working alongside iwaizumi to train the national team he had been scouted for. 

having never met oikawa before, atsumu was skeptical. sure, he’d heard great things about the player from teammates, both athletic trainers and the media, but he needed his own opinion. y/n was someone atsumu cared for even though he wasn't always the most obvious with showing it, he was like that with a lot of people, sakusa included.

y/n was right in pointing out that atsumu was selfish but he always had good intention and she knew it. he was naturally protective and that was his way of showing he cared. sure, it could've been seen as selfish behaviour but to atsumu, his over protectiveness was just his way of showing others that he did in fact care and right now, y/n was the one he felt the need to protect.

he cared for the girl and even though he would never bring himself to admit it out loud, he would always be concerned for her and have her back if she ever needed him, the same way he would for bokuto, hinata and kiyoomi.

-

the car pulled up outside the apartment complex and y/n opened the door to get out. she leaned against the door frame as she attempted to bid both players a goodnight and one last thanks for their cooperation for the day. atsumu got out the car on the other side to which bokuto followed, confusing the girl who had just tried to say goodbye.

“come on y/n, let us take you.”

“are you gonna kidnap me or something?” y/n asked teasingly as bokuto gave her a grin.

“nah, just wanna do one last nice thing for ya tonight.”

y/n smiled and thanked the driver with the two boys following suit as the car drove off. 

“you’ll be good walking back to the dorms right?”

“yeah.” the two players said in unison.

the trio walked into the complex acknowledging the doorman and girl typing away at the front desk. 

taking the elevator up to the top floor to the lavish apartment both athletic trainers shared, the three shared casual banter as they approached the door.

“well, thanks you two, see you both tomorrow yeah?”

y/n went to open her door with neither boys moving. y/n just assumed they wanted to make sure she got in okay before taking their leave.

a little more playing with the keys in the door and y/n managed to swing the door open to her apartment left in darkness. the girl sighed and stepped inside as she went to flick the light switch.

before she could though the lights flashed on by themselves and y/n jumped back slightly.

‘SUPRISE!”

before her were akaashi, kuroo, kenma and a few others from nekoma you recognised, daichi, sugawara and asahi, kiyoko and tanaka had also made an appearance, yahaba, kyotani, matsukawa, hanamaki, sakusa, hinata, osamu and iwaizumi. 

and then she saw him.

tears welled up in her eyes as there stood her boyfriend of over a year.

the man she’d fallen in love with during high school but never bothered confessing to.

the man that had waited until his high school days were over and waited until he was on track for his own goals to confess to her.

the man that had promised her he’d do everything to make their relationship work despite the impossible distance between the two of them.

the man that she’d managed to build a strong relationship with practically through calls and texts.

there stood oikawa tooru.

y/n wasted no time throwing herself into him as she sobbed into his shoulder.

he could only let out a laugh as he let a few of his own tears slip out as he wrapped his arms around her bringing her even closer than before.

“y-you its you -but how? w-when did you get here, why didn't you tell me? fuck tooru, it’s you”

“shhh yeah, i’m here, I've got you yeah? i’m here y/n.”

everyone watched as the couple embraced each other for the first time in months. 

bokuto bounded over to akaashi telling him what a good job he did even though akaashi corrected him saying how it was actually the old aoba johsai third years who planned and got everything together. paying no mind to him, bokuto proceeded to greet others dragging his best friend along with him.

atsumu leaned off the doorframe and made his way inside the spacious apartment nodding a thanks to the others.

osamu made his way over to his brother to greet him properly.

“fitting went well then?”

“yeah.”

“must've taken a while ya didn't stop by.”

“nah we were there all day sorry.”

“don't apologise.”

osamu glanced at his brother who was observing oikawa and y/n.

“you... okay?” osamu cautiously asked his brother not wanting to step over any boundaries and cause a scene in front of everyone.

“still dunno if i can trust him.”

atsumu patted his brothers shoulder not giving him a chance to respond and gave him a small smirk.

“right, lets go greet everyone then, don't wanna seem rude.”

“you already come across rude.”

atsumu only snickered and ushered his brother out of view of the reunited couple and into the crowd of guests who were conversing in excitement.

osamu knew his brothers guard was still up but decided to drop it.

for tonight anyway.

-

the rest of the evening went smoothly with oikawa being able to properly reunite with former rivals and teammates. everyone was sharing past stories about highschool bringing laughter around the complex. 

music was going, lights were dimmed and everyone relaxed themselves and enjoyed the event as this was the first time in a while a gathering so big had happened. even sakusa looked like he was somewhat enjoying himself.

y/n hardly left tooru that night. he clung to her an equal amount. the two practically inseparable but that was to be expected after all. 

oikawa had his arm wrapped around y/n for majority of the evening and she found herself savouring the physical affection she’d been deprived of for months.

3 hours in and everyone had all caught up with each other for the most part. the party was still in full swing as everyone had a good time.

y/n and oikawa softly swaying to the sound of the music in the background as they let themselves fall into their own little world.

“i still can't believe you’re here.”

“i still can't believe it either.” oikawa sighed as he pressed a soft kiss to his girlfriends head.

“y/n look at me for a second.”

the girl looked up to look at her boyfriends now serious face.

“i know we won't get to spend too much time together, not until after the games anyway, but now that i’m here i hope you know i have every intention to give you all the affection you should've received over the months. i’ve missed you a stupid amount and i can't even tell you how happy i am right now.”

for the second time that night, tears pooled in y/n’s eyes as she threw her arms around her boyfriend.

“i love you tooru.” she whispered just loud enough for him to hear.

that was enough for the boy to throw his arms tightly around y/n’s shoulders and pull her into him.

nothing could've ruined the night.

in that moment everything was right in the world.

the peaceful sanctuary y/n had been craving lately had finally returned back into her arms and she couldn't be happier.

everything was finally falling into place.

but being in your own world will stop you from noticing your surroundings and whats anyone else is doing.

one mistake was all it took and y/n and oikawa were going to suffer at the hands of the people who they’d been doing their best to avoid for months on end.

the media.

-

-

just until i win

oikawa tooru x reader

masterlist

part 15 - lets go to tokyo!

part 16 - suprise

part 17 - aftermath

-

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[tobesobri]

𝒯hank you for all the love on the first chapter, that was honestly the last thing I expected, and it really does mean the world to me that you guys like this story. I’m going to include the taglist at the end, but if you’d like to be added for future updates, go here and put in your tumblr URL. Okay, anyways, this chapter is very like,,, rocky and emotional so! Have fun reading :)

huge massive thank you to the incredible @youresogolden-h​ for editing ❤️

Chapter Two: Do It One More Time (3.8k)

Harry and Y/N are friends…. with benefits, but not the kinds you’re thinking of.

🥥MASTERLIST 🌃INSPO TAG 🌻ASK TAG 💃PLAYLIST 🛌

Sneaking Harry out had been the least of her worries. Him being on her mind constantly was a much bigger cause for concern. She had trouble sleeping at night, tossing and turning and even having to wash her entire bedspread to get rid of his scent. It had been no use, however. It was like her body got a taste of something very potent and wanted it now more than ever before. 

And it didn’t take long for her to get back into her routine. To soil the pillowcases in her tears because the emptiness inside her chest had only grown tenfold after what had happened with Harry. Her muscles literally ached and her sobs almost sent her to the bathroom to hurl up an empty stomach full of knots.

Her brain had finally gotten a reprieve from its loneliness. She finally felt what it was like to have someone, even if it wasn’t real. Even if it was a mistake and even if it was fleeting. Harry had filled whatever missing parts were within her and it hurt like hell to go back to normal again.

But she wasn’t the only one. He couldn’t sleep anymore either. His house felt massive and the silence between all the walls seemed to ring just a little bit louder. He found himself buying an unnecessary amount of pillows and setting them all up on his bed just to surround himself with something. He’d been here before though. After a breakup, his least favorite part was going back to sleeping alone. He hated not having someone to hold onto. It took him weeks to get used to it last time, and to get used to the cold spots on the other side of the bed. It only took four and a half hours with Y/N to fuck him all up again.

And he really shouldn’t be doing this, but he was desperate.

“Hello?” Even her voice was a breath of fresh air for him.

“Hey, it’s uh… Harry.”

“Oh. I didn’t know you had my number.”

“Will gave it to me a while ago… for emergencies.”

Y/N took a long pause, unsure why Harry was calling her on a Thursday afternoon, completely at random. It had been almost an entire week since their… incident. Why was he calling her right now?

“So… is this an emergency?”

“Um… well, no. It isn’t.”

“So why are you calling then?”

“I was wondering um… you can say no but um… I was wondering if you wanted to… sleep with me again.” He cringed at his last few words and the way they felt like knives cutting his throat to get out. He had no better way to phrase what he wanted other than being blunt about it and admitting he wanted her up against him. He wanted more than just lifeless pillows to cuddle up to at night. 

And something about Y/N had him losing his fucking mind the past week so asking her to sleep with him seemed low on his list of crazy.

“Sorry?”

“I mean… like we did last week. I was wondering if you wanted to come over tonight, just to sleep?”

“Why?” She asked, unsure why Harry fucking Styles was asking her that. Sure, they were somewhat friendly and she had thoughts about asking him the same exact thing, but it was an odd request coming from him. She was sure if he needed a cuddle buddy that he could easily find anyone else. 

But even the thought of him being like that with someone else gave her a horribly sick feeling in her stomach that she recognized immediately but could not for the life of her explain. She didn’t get jealous, ever.

He cleared his throat, “Um well… I have had a pretty hard time sleeping and then last Friday it was like… like the best sleep of my life. And this past week has been awful again. So I was just… we don’t have to if you don’t want to though. It’s fine. I probably shouldn’t have even called…”

“No.” She cut his spiraling off abruptly. “I mean… yes. I… can do that.”

He immediately let out a huge breath of air in relief but also couldn’t believe she had, yet again, agreed to another one of his stupid ideas. “I just want to let you know I’m not trying to like… get in your pants or anything. I genuinely just…” He stopped then, knowing a more believable story would be him wanting to get into her pants than what was actually going on with him.

“Just what?”

“I just need someone.” He admitted with his eyes closed tight as he laid back onto his couch. “And it’s not very easy asking people to just sleep with you.”

She let another moment of silence go by that just about tore him up. And right when he was about to ask if she was still there, he heard her voice again, as softly as ever.

“What time should I come over then?”

Harry’s house wasn’t easy to access. First, there was the entrance gate to just get into the neighborhood, which had an intimidatingly large security guard posted out front like an oversized bridge troll. Then she had to hand over her driver’s license and try to convince him she was there to see Harry, and that her name was supposed to be on his list of accepted guests. The whole thing wouldn’t seem so unbelievable to her if she wasn’t already trapped in a pit of nerves from being there in the first place.

By some miracle, however, the guard returned her ID along with a visitor’s pass and opened the gates for her. 

Then, of course, there was finding his house, which turned out to be a whole other task and a half on its own. Every house was so far from the main road due to oversized front lawns that she couldn’t read anyone’s house number unless she practically trespassed. He’d given her very vague instructions so she mostly had to rely on Google Maps. Which somehow got her to the house at the end of Spruce Street with the enormous pine tall trees and rose bushes surrounding it just like Harry had described.

She pulled into the short gap of driveway just before the tall, wooden privacy gates that hid most of his house from view. After rolling down her driver’s side window, she inputted the four-digit code he’d given her onto the pinpad. Within a few seconds the gates opened, and after a moment to ogle at his insanely beautiful house, she swallowed the pit in her throat and carefully drove onto his property as if it was made out of glass. She really did not belong there, not in her beat up 2005 Toyota, and she couldn’t afford to break anything. 

The moon was already prominent in the middle of the sky by the time she got to his front door and rang the bell. His house wasn’t at all what she expected. It was old-looking. Almost cottage-like with stone bricks and vines trickling down the architecture. She expected the most modern amenities known to man from him, but it turned out to be the polar opposite.

She stopped staring at his garden fortress of a house, with her jaw hung wide, when his door swung open. Because finally he was there, right in front of her, giving her proof that she didn’t accidentally show up at the wrong address, even though the code had worked and the house was as he described. Her anxiety was just a little extra prominent than normal.

“This is where you live?” She asked, before he even got the chance to invite her in.

He laughed, holding the door in one hand and gripping the frame with the other to keep his balance as he stood in the middle.

“Um,” he sighed, glancing up at the house, “yeah, but I’m trying to sell it soon. I bought it when I was young and impulsive.”

“Oh.” Was all she said, and he worried for a moment that he had completely lost her. That she was going to go back to never speaking a single word to him ever again. That he wasn’t anything like what she expected and it was a little too much for her to take in. 

Just like most of his previous attempts at friendships, once they got even the tiniest glimpse into his life, they either bolted or stuck around long enough to get what they wanted from him.

Instead, she met his eyes again and smiled, “Can I come in or what?”

The inside of his house, however, had been recently modernized and she wondered if Harry had made all the design decisions himself. Like if he picked out the big geometric crystal chandelier in the foyer or the white marble countertops in the kitchen. She liked it, though, it was open with tall ceilings and unlike any home she’d ever stepped foot in. Even though it reminded her what vastly different worlds she and Harry came from, she knew his personality didn’t match up to his big fancy house. 

When they settled into the kitchen, and when Harry began pouring two glasses of water for them, she set her things down on his island counter to give her shoulders a break from her heavy backpack. She knew she’d packed too much stuff, but if she was spending the night at Harry’s place, she needed her own familiar things to keep her company. 

“I was thinking…” she started, watching as he kicked the refrigerator door shut once he’d put the filtered water pitcher back on the top shelf and handed her one of the glasses. “That maybe it’s a good idea to not tell Will… or... anyone about this.”

He thought it over for a moment and then nodded in agreement, “Yeah, okay.” Averting his eyes, his mind thought of a million different things at once while he sipped on his own glass of water until another tangible question popped into his head. “So if we’re not telling them, then where do they think you are right now?”

“At a coworker’s place.”

He nodded again and for the first time around Harry, she felt so incredibly nervous. He’d made her nervous before but not like this. She’d always just avoided him and it worked her anxieties out, but there was absolutely no chance of avoiding him now. Maybe she should have just said no, but that also seemed like an implausible choice. 

“Is it alright if I like… get ready for bed? I just got off work.” 

He let out a small giggle around the brim of his glass and nodded, “Yeah, I’ll show you my room.”

And his bedroom did not, by any means, disappoint. Just the square footage of it was impressive, but her eyes were particularly drawn to his bed, and not for any other reason than the way it faced massive ceiling-to-floor windows that overlooked, as it seemed, the entirety of Hollywood; and she fell in love instantly. It was mesmerizing, and she could not fathom why on earth he planned on selling. Hell if he didn’t want the house anymore, she’d take it.

“Bathroom’s over there. Make yourself at home. I’m gonna set the alarm and turn off the lights. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Nodding, she waited for him to leave before she fully lost her mind about everything. Not only was she in the nicest house she’d ever laid foot in, but she was also about to crawl back into bed with him. His king sized, fluffy-looking bed she could imagine herself getting lost in. 

She knew what they were doing was slightly out of the norm for people their own age. Most people didn’t sleep in the same bed as their friends unless they were doing something friends probably shouldn’t be doing. But the benefits of their budding friendship were a little more innocent than that to the point where even the thought of Will finding out where she was right now, while she slipped into her strawberry patterned pajama pants in Harry’s ensuite, made her lightheaded. She’d almost feel better if Will found out they were actually hooking up instead, because at least that wasn’t so… weird.

With the amount of time she spent getting herself ready, most of it being wasted on psyching herself up enough to go through with all of this, she’d become very familiar with his bathroom. He had two sinks along one wall, and massive mirrors that all faced a shower that could fit an entire army inside. The tiles were either black or white except for the blue pops of color here and there. The best part of it was the massive soaker tub in the back underneath a window that overlooked his garden. It was like he plucked a bathroom straight out of Good Housekeeping.

And of course she couldn’t let his things go unnoticed. She’d make herself a space at the empty sink nearest the door, the one that didn’t have his stuff neatly stacked around it. She eyed his small selection of colognes on a tray between the sinks while she washed her face, and couldn’t help her curiosity from checking out what brand of toothpaste he used when she started brushing her own teeth. 

Other than the little touches of Harry scattered sparingly about, however, it was almost as if no one lived there at all. And she became very familiar with how cold it all was.

It wasn’t until she turned the sink off after splashing her face, again, with ice cold water, that she heard the soft hum of a guitar from just outside the bathroom door. She wasn’t sure if he was playing, or if he had turned music on. She wasn’t even sure if Harry Styles knew how to play the guitar. She couldn’t ever remember him playing any instruments whenever he came over to work with Will, but maybe she was just tragically unobservant.

And that seemed to be the case once she finished up and went back out to find him perched on what appeared to be his side of the bed with his guitar on his lap and a leather bound notebook open in front of him.

Though before she could make out a single melody, he immediately stopped playing the second she re-entered the room.

“Sorry, you can keep… doing what you’re doing.”

He let out an exasperated laugh while she crept towards the bed on the opposite side and made note of the way he quickly hid his journal from her and stashed it into a drawer at his bedside table. Maybe she was overanalyzing things, but it seemed like whatever he was writing down was for his eyes only, and she respected that.

“I was trying to write a song… hasn’t really been working out for me recently.” He leaned away from her to put his guitar down on the floor, setting it upright against the table, and she hated the way her eyes went straight to the small sliver of skin under his shirt that was exposed when he did so. 

“Writer’s block?” She asked, slowly making her way up under the covers next to him, still feeling like she didn’t belong even though this had all been Harry’s idea to begin with. He needed someone and so did she, even if he didn’t fully know to what extent. But it felt like somehow she had tricked him into thinking the someone he needed was her.

“Sucks,” he mumbled to himself mostly, still very obviously in his own little work bubble.

“I usually just try to stop doing whatever I’m struggling with, and do something else, something I wouldn’t normally do.”

“You mean with your art stuff?” He asked and she wasn’t sure how he knew about her hobby, if Will had brought it up before, but it made her heart flutter nonetheless, that he remembered that small detail about her.

“Yeah.” She finally looked over at him, only to find him already staring at her and it weirdly made her less anxious about her current position. In his bed. In her roommate’s best friend’s bed. “If you’re stuck, you should leave it alone and write something completely out of your comfort zone. Then when you go back to where the problem was, you have a new set of eyes on it.”

He was quiet, first just listening to her speak, and then really letting her advice sink in because it wasn’t something he’d ever thought about doing, but he made mental plans to give it a try.

“I’m sorry if this is really weird, Y/N,” he began, getting her attention when he changed the subject. “I know it’s hard to believe but I’m actually horrendously alone and I guess when we slept together I didn’t feel so much that way anymore.”

“I get it, Harry.” She sighed, never wanting to fully open up to him, but feeling like it was now or never to get him to stop making it more weird by apologizing. “Makes you feel like… empty.”

“Exactly,” Harry sighed and she glanced at him when he agreed so enthusiastically. “I haven’t been that close to someone in… months,” he rolled his eyes down to meet hers again, “and I guess I just didn’t want it to be like that again.”

The look on her face alone made it easy to tell everything he said resonated with her, like he was saying exactly what she was thinking too. It broke his heart to know that she, in any way, felt like he did, but it also made him glad someone finally understood what he was going through, even if in just the slightest.

“I understand, Harry. I guess I just don’t understand why you’re alone. Can’t you have anyone you want?”

He scrunched up his face, “It’s not that easy.” He huffed, “People aren’t all that interested in me as they are getting loads of likes on Instagram and having lots of money. I mean… I haven’t had a single relationship that didn’t end the same.”

“Still,” she mumbled begrudgingly. He was still Harry Styles. People still wanted him and, even if it hadn’t turned out so well, he’d still been not alone at some point in his life, unlike her.

He raised his eyebrows, a little irritated at this point. “Okay then, why are you alone? Can’t imagine it’s that hard for you.”

She rolled her eyes away from him and hung her head  to disguise the embarrassment on her face. There were two big reasons why she was alone, and she was not about to admit them to Harry at eleven o’clock on a Thursday night.

“So what is it then?” He talked for her when he grew irritated with her silence and her inability to see his perspective on things, “Your lack of ability to talk to people? Because you have these massive walls to keep literally everyone out, including me, for the past however many months we’ve known each other?”

She shook her head and sunk deeper and deeper inside herself. This was all a mistake. It had all gone wrong because she opened her mouth and said something insensitive. 

“I don’t want to talk about it, Harry.” She looked at him again finally, holding back the stupid tears trying to well up just from the mere thought of being even moderately yelled at, and especially by Harry who she’d never imagined being angry a day in his life. “But if we’re just going to sit here judge each other, I think I should go.”

“No.” He immediately reached across the king-sized space between them to grab her arm before she even considered leaving his bed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell like that.” They stared at each other silently for a moment before he continued, “You don’t want to talk about it and that’s fine.”

She stared at him for a moment, and then at his hand around her arm and just how good it felt to be touched. Just to have human contact, even just something as simple as that. And then she felt just as desperate as she had when she agreed to all of this in the first place.

“Can we just go to sleep? I’m tired.”

It started out like it had before. A gap of space between them after Harry had turned out the lamp beside him. After he spent an ungodly amount of time staring out his window and listening to her breathing, and she spent the same amount of time overthinking, they both realized something wasn’t working.

“Harry?” She whispered like she was throwing out a line into a vast ocean.

“Hmm?”

“You were right… about why I’m alone. But… it’s also that no one’s ever really shown any interest in me because, um... ” she struggled, trying her damndest not to cry in front of Harry. “I’m... ugly, you know… so that’s, um...” Her voice was just a whisper she could barely even make out, but it was still the first time she’d said that to anyone before. Sure, she wasn’t facing Harry when she said it and they were in complete darkness, but it was still hard, hard enough to make her hands shake and the tears fall.

He knew it too, the way her voice wavered like he’d never heard before. He twisted his head over his shoulder to look at her, eyebrows furrowed even deeper when he saw the shadow of her hand move across her face to wipe the tears away.  

And here she was; in Harry’s bed where she thought her problems would be temporarily solved, and yet she was still crying. 

“So that’s why… I feel like I don’t let people in because I don’t want anyone to have to be stuck with me.” She finished and he flipped himself onto his back, still staring at her head like he couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth, that she even thought that way about herself. He was sitting there in shock because, well… he had been wrong. He didn’t understand her at all. 

Without a single clue how to respond without sounding like a disingenuous asshole, he went another route rather than opening his mouth to give her unsolicited advice.

“Come ’ere.” He whispered, helping her until she was in his arms again just like before. He cradled the back of her head with one hand as she hid her face on his chest and wrapped his free arm around her shoulders. Slowly, she warmed up to him and tucked her own arm around his side as they fit themselves together like puzzle pieces all over again. Except this time, they were both consciously aware of it. 

They stayed like that for a while until Harry listened to her breathing even out, and he could hardly keep his eyes open any longer. He still wanted to say a million different things, but knew it might only make it worse because his head wasn’t clear enough to say the right things. So, he just held on tight and waited for morning.

taglist: @afterstylesmadeit @cxnyon-moon @and-im-not-okay-with-it @chrryblsms @whydontharry @harryinsweatersandbandanas @idkthisisjustforfanfic @teddysoldbird @shawnsblue @thurhomish @theasstour @hufflepuff-always-and-forever @staceystoleyourheart @granolagrannie @defineharry @iambabyharry @1142590m @ashtondene @smokeinherperfume @cherryyharryy

[thran-duils]

Jealous Sea

Title: Jealous Sea Summary: I took the prompt “Jealous dark!Tony smut with a reader who’s already in an established relationship.  Get that Suit involved as a side too.” from @sherrybaby14‘s latest prompt challenge. The fic is told from Tony’s POV with a very small POV from the reader. I took inspo from The Avengers and Iron Man 2.

I listened to this song a lot while writing this, which the fic is named after. Words: 2,962 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Dub-con, character death, smut, stalking, unprotected sex 

Masterpost

Connor’s arm snaked around her waist with ease and she comfortably leaned into him, not breaking stride in her conversation.

The muscles in Tony’s jaw tightened, the shine dulling ever so slightly at this intrusion.

To him, it was an intrusion; to Y/N, it was merely her fiancé coming to her side to engage with her and his colleague. Well, boss. Tony was his boss.

Connor was naïve. Tolerable for Tony at best. The man had his smarts – you had to in order to be able to work at Stark Industries – but his scope was too small for Tony’s liking. He could grasp the here and now but lacked the foresight to see the bigger picture. Tony had been considering if it would be possible to find a replacement for Connor up until the Christmas party a few months ago.

Connor had brought his fiancé finally, the one he had been gushing about at every opportunity – another quirk that had gotten under Tony’s skin quite quickly – but had been unable to bring in because she was running research abroad.

Admittedly, Tony had not even bothered to check up on the fiancé on social media – or Connor’s social media, for that matter – his concern minimal to none about Connor’s personal life. Perhaps if he had, he could have saved himself the slight embarrassment of flirting with her when he spotted her at a table alone at the party. His jaw had almost gone slack when she introduced herself as Connor’s fiancé and politely side stepped his flirtations.

Since then, Tony made sure to attend every after work get together and somehow always be around when she stopped by the office. Every smile she sent his way lit his core. He desired to possess her for his own. Such an exquisite being was wasted on Connor.

He had been elated to find her alone once more at this launch party, swooping in quickly, the woman who had tried to glue herself to his side discarded carelessly.

Tony asked genuine questions about her work, basking in the joy she emanated discussing it. His eyes lingered at her lips, imagining how soft they would feel against his.

Of course, Connor had to ruin the moment with his goober smile and inane jokes. It was some solace that Y/N seemed interested in continuing the conversation though with him and did not seem to want to leave. It gave Tony hope.

<> <> <>

As the months drug on, the wedding loomed closer. Tony grew ever irritable that Y/N continued to be attracted to Connor, despite his subtle advancements to her. He was right in front of her for god’s sake. Smarter. Richer. More attractive. He tried to fathom what would get her to notice him. His insatiable desire to taste her, his lips running up her thighs into that sweet spot always ate away at him.

Water dripped down her skin as she emerged from the water, coming back up onto the yacht. Connor had been grateful Tony had invited them to boat with him. Of course, Connor did not know that without Y/N he would not have even come within sniffing distance of Tony’s yacht. It was worth having to put up with him if Tony got to be on the receiving end of just one more bright smile from Y/N.

Yet, each smile thrown his way still ended up with her sitting with or on Connor, not him.

He needed Connor out of the way. That was the only path that made sense.

<> <> <>

It had been too easy. Y/N had been abroad again when Loki’s army attached New York City, so she was not in danger.

All it had taken was Tony leading the giant son of a bitch alien to their street and cutting a quick corner. The alien had taken out Connor’s penthouse in its attempt to follow him.

Afterward, Tony had flown back by to make sure the job had indeed been done.

Too easy.

<> <> <>

Y/N agreed to take a job in California when Tony offered to help. She wanted to start fresh; being in New York was too painful. Tony was elated when she took it a step further and accepted his offer to live in his mansion until she found a place of her own. He was determined that his place would be more than enough.

But weeks turned to a month and she was still insisting she would be out of his hair soon despite his protests. She was beginning to spend less time at his place, burying herself in her work. Tony consistently extended dinner invitations to exclusive restaurants, which she did accept but was not responding to him and his hints about joining him afterwards. Too many times she left him downstairs rejected.

It was wearing on him.

He needed to relax, unwind, and possibly just bury himself under a couple women. Or three.

<> <> <>

Reader POV

You groaned when you pulled into the driveway, seeing it packed with cars. The day had been long and all you really wanted to do was take a hot bath and then slip into some comfortable pajamas.

Thankfully, you had a remote to the garage and did not have to worry about parking.

Once inside, you contemplated the easiest route from the elevator that ended in the front hall to your bedroom upstairs. The music was already reaching your ears as you stepped into the elevator.

<> <> <>

Jarvis alerted Tony through his Iron Man suit the moment Y/N had pulled into the garage. Smiling at the news, he knocked back the rest of his drink, ready to fetch himself a fresh one as well as get her one.

He passed by people, the suit clunking as he walked. Halfway to the kitchen, he leaned in when an attractive brunette woman beckoned him, and she pulled him in for a kiss.

“As lovely as you are,” Tony said against her lips before pulling away. “I am on a time sensitive mission.”

The woman kept her hands on the chest of the suit as she pouted, “Is it anything I can help you with?”

“Um, yeah, actually,” Tony told her distracted and her face lit up as Jarvis was updating him that Y/N was getting into the elevator. He wanted to intercept her before she managed to get upstairs. “Could you be a peach and make two gin and tonics? Doubles?”

“Going hard tonight?” she joked.

“I’ll be right back. Promise. Have them ready.”

Tony moved through the crowd, briefly greeting people who called for his attention, focused on moving quick.

He made it in the nick of time. The doors dinged open right when he arrived.

Even through his buzzed state he could tell Y/N was like a deer in headlights. Yes, she had meant to sneak up stairs without even so much as a ‘hi’. Good thing he got there when he had.

“Y/N, even after a long day of work, you still manage to look ravishing. Won’t you join me for a drink or two?”

“Oh,” Y/N stammered. She forced a smile and said over the music, “It’s a little crowded in here. I think being upstairs where it’s quiet –”

“Nonsense,” Tony cut her off. He decided he was going to more assertive than usual. This night was going to be different. He waved her forward to him. “Come, come. Join the fun.”

“Tony –”

“I insist,” he again interjected, coming to her instead and slipping his arm around her shoulders. He saw her concerned look at his hand, and he chortled, “Don’t worry. It won’t just go off. I have to active it and actually have something I want to shoot. Come! Join the party! I daresay you need to kick back and relax. I have drinks waiting for us back in the kitchen. You like gin and tonic, correct?”

Y/N nodded, keeping up with his stride.

The woman was waiting by the counter, searching the crowd for his return. When her eyes landed on Y/N – who was looking flustered – her face fell immediately. Tony did not care about the shocked look on her face.

Gesturing at the glasses, he asked, “These mine?”

“Yes, but –”

“Thank you so much,” He said. Picking them up, despite the hurt look on the woman’s face, he handed the other to Y/N. “My lovely roommate – who is a brilliant scientist by the way – just got home. She looks a bit peckish too.” He leaned in concerned to Y/N. “We should get you something to eat. Otherwise this will go right to your head and you won’t last. And we are definitely staying up late.”

Y/N and the woman barely got a syllable out each before Tony pressed on, “There’s some pizza on the patio. Lots of it. Here.” He reached out, pushing the cup up to Y/N’s lips. “There we go. Big swig.” He took once and she sheepishly followed suit. “Lovely!” To the woman, he said, “That’s a damn good drink. Are you a bartender? Thanks again.”

Tony pulled Y/N through the crowd, encouraging her with another drink.

“What was that about your concern about it going to my head?” Y/N half joked when they stepped out onto the patio where people were lounging and swimming in the pool.

Tony threw her a smirk. “Always with the quips.” They approached the boxes and he made sure she grabbed a slice. He did not want her passing out too soon; that was the truth.

He managed to coerce her to have a refill and mingle with people. Y/N relaxed halfway through the second double. Tony continued throwing compliments her way about how she was helping her research team tremendously and how he wished she would agree to come work for him. Despite her relaxation, he could tell she was still one foot in and one foot out. She blushed when he praised her, her eyes moving to the door back inside every so often. He was growing agitated – why could she not just accept his affection? She always toed the line, lightly commenting in flirtation or brushing his hand with her fingers. Yet, when push came to shove, she jumped back.

His annoyance boiled to a point when she leaned in to tell him she should probably go upstairs.

“There’s nothing for you up there,” Tony remarked, laughing humorlessly.

“My tub is and so is my bed. Really, Tony. I’m tired. It’s been a good time but I’m ready to really relax.”

“Could have fooled me that you were having a good time,” Tony said curtly.

Y/N looked at him confused at his swift change in demeanor. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” Tony replied, shrugging briskly. “Maybe I would think it was a ruse because you’ve been wanting to get away from me the moment you walked inside. That’s been evident.”

“What? What are you –”

“No. Don’t deny it.”

Y/N was starting to look uncomfortable, eyes on the people around because some were taking notice of his vexed tone.

“Seriously, Tony. It’s not you. I really did have a long day.”

Sighing exasperated, Tony told her, “That seems to be the excuse every time. So, forgive me if I’m just a little bit, you know, bristled.”

“I… I don’t know what you want me to say. I just want to go upstairs where it’s quiet.”

“Quiet?” Tony asked, anger rolling the more she denied her rejection of him. All the rejections. He flipped the mask down to cover his face completely, starting up the suit. “We can go somewhere quiet if that is what you wish.”

Y/N looked frightened as he advanced, and he ignored all the other eyes on them.

She protested when he picked her up and into his arms and he shot up into the sky. Her panicked shriek was lost to the wind as he jettisoned away from his property, holding her tightly to make sure she did not fall from his embrace.

If she wanted somewhere quiet, that is what she was going to get.

Tony landed at the edge of the beach below his mansion, only letting go of Y/N when they were safely landed. She stumbled back away from him, hair windswept and face flushed.

He activated the suit to open and he stepped out of it as it unwrapped from around him. His gaze was burning into Y/N, determined to make headway and get what he wanted.

Throwing his hands out, he asked, “This quiet enough? I mean, besides the waves?”

Y/N seemed to find her grounding again. Her brow pinched in anger as she stepped towards him. “What the hell is your problem, Tony? How much have you had to drink?”

Tony chuckled darkly, closing the remainder of the space between them. She glared up at him, demanding, “Well?”

He was tired of her defiant behavior. Suddenly, he reached up and wound his fingers tightly in her hair, yanking her head back. She let out a sharp cry as he pulled her to him.

“What do I have to do to get your attention, Y/N?” he growled. “Haven’t I done enough? Wasn’t I there for you? Have I not been good to you?”

“What?” Y/N exclaimed. “God, yes. I –”

Tony cut her off, slamming his lips to hers, holding her close. She struggled against him, protesting against his mouth, but he resisted. He moaned, dominating her with his embrace. His hands gripped tightly, relishing in having her close.

Muffled, he heard, “Tony, please.”

“I love hearing you say that,” he told her, his voice rumbling low in his chest. He pulled her away far enough to look down at her, his eyes blown wide with lust.

Again, she fought to get out of his arms, but he pushed her up against the rock behind her.

“I have wanted this for so long. I’ve wanted you for so long,” Tony declared, his hands grasped tight on her arms, holding her in place in front of him. “I know you have wanted it too. I’ve felt it. And you just feel guilty. You don’t have to feel guilty, Y/N. I promise. You deserve to be loved. You deserve to be appreciated. I want to give you everything. I’ve been trying to.”

“Please,” she tried again, weaker this time in her resolve.

Good, he was waning her resistance down. If she could only admit she wanted him too.

“Let me love you,” Tony breathed, forcibly pulling her shirt over her head. His hands moved quickly to her bra clasp and she reached up to try to stop him shakily. He brushed her hands aside easily. “Now, let’s give in. Y/N. You know you want to. I know you want to.”

He did not wait for her to respond before undoing her bra and tossing it aside. His fingers fluttered across her nipples and she gasped lightly, aroused. Licking his index and thumb, he brought them down to caress her erect nipple gently, his weight pinning her to the rock with his muscular thighs. She whimpered; her knuckles white with how tight she was gripping the rock behind her.

“See?” Tony practically purred, giving her nipple a brief pinch. She keened this time and he groaned at her arching her back, his cock hardening quickly in his pants.

With doe eyes, she looked up at him, not protesting him anymore.

This is what he had had to do this whole time. Be forceful, she needed a strong hand. Her bottoms went next.

“Out here?” she squeaked.

“Under the stars,” Tony assured her. “I want to see you bathed in moonlight.”

One last press surfaced from her. “I don’t know –”

He cur her off with a finger to her lips, “Just don’t think.”

Tony tugged her away from the rock and moved her down to the ground. He tore his own shirt over his head, losing his pants as well. Laying her back down on the grass, he pressed his weight on her, her hands cupping the sides of his head. She was soft, her skin smelled of the lilac soap she was so fond of. Her fingers dug in behind his ears as his tongue slipped past her lips, tasting her more deeply.

He pressed himself past her wet folds, groaning at the tightness as she gasped at the intrusion, slowly adjusting to him. His lips trailed sloppy kisses along her jawline as he increased his depth.

“Mhm, you’re a goddamn goddess,” Tony husked, bottoming out with a deep thrust causing her to cry out, nails digging into his shoulders.

Building up speed, their bodies moved in tandem.

“You’re mine,” Tony growled, his hips snapping. Finally, rang in his head.

Foreheads pressed together, their breath erratic, Tony felt exhilaration. It was not simply because of the sex but because he was possessing her as he always should have. There was no coming back from this. He had reached the turning point he wanted to and he was not going to let her go. Ever.

And his next move was to make sure she stayed.

He came inside her with a loud grunt, his body trembling with his orgasm as he emptied. She keened, her knees digging into his sides as she climaxed around him, adding to his sensation. He moaned in approval, smothering her with a new round of deep kisses.

She laid panting underneath him, her eyes glossed over with arousal and exhaustion. His lips curled ever so slightly, loving the sight.

“You’re going to make a wonderful mother,” he praised quietly, pecking her with light kisses that ended at her lips. “I’m going to take such good care of you.”

~~~

Tags: @sherrybaby14

[castielsangelsx]

Lion and the Lamb (Ivar x Reader) Part 5/20

summary: everything seems to be getting better. thats until your clumsiness causes Ivar to be in an angered state, causing you to flee in fear from kattegat straight into the hands of danger. thats until ivar the boneless is at your rescue. the start of something?

warning: violence, language and hints at rape but nothing too serious

UMM TWO UPDATES OF LION AND THE LAMB? WHO IS SHE!!!! ENJOYY, THIS WAS MY FAVE PART TO WRITE, I TOOK LOTS OF INSPO FROM BEAUTY AND THE BEAST BTW!

lion and the lamb masterlist

-—————————————————

I had finished painting the bark for Sigrid’s family, finding her family came from a long line of blacksmiths. The family seemed much nicer to me and I was grateful, especially with the long line of requests I had for painting families in their homes and on their shields. 

I was glad I was warming up to the people, I’d hope it would only get better from here.

Spending a day on the artwork, the paint was all over my hands and some of it managed to get all over my dress. I had asked Ama to dress me in a plainer one knowing I would paint a little on it as a result of the work, yet this dress seemed a mess now. Face palming myself for not asking Ama about the blanket, I’ll ask tonight.

With the paints gathered all in my hands I made it back to the main hall, greeted by the smell of food. My stomach grumbled at the sight of some thralls bringing in plates of bread and hot food. Noticing Ivar and Ubbe at the table I sighed, finally dinner would not be eaten alone. Ubbe would surely keep me company. 

Noticing their immense concentration on the parchments in front of them I walk up to them. Ivar seems to notice my presense and he looks from Ubbe back to me, “good of you to join us.” His words are laced in a mocking tone. I ignore him and instead I smile at Ubbe who has the biggest smile on his face at my disheveled state. 

"How was it?" Ubbe asks, referring to the paints in my hands.

"Great," I sigh. "I've finished one so far, it'll take me two more weeks to get through the rest of the paintings." Ubbe nods in content, Ivar pays no mind and studies the map in front of him. "What is this?" Pointing towards the plan in front of them, directing my question to Ubbe, Ivar seems to interject.

"None of your business, Christian." I turn my head and roll my eyes. I was starting to get used to Ivar's relentless attitude, and I knew he wouldn't do anything, not with Ubbe here, I'd hoped.

"It is her business Ivar, she is your wife and the queen of Kattegat." Ivar pays no mind to Ubbe's statement and shifts his attention back to Ubbe. Ivar's back is turned to me as I sit in front of Ubbe beside Ivar, seated at the end of the table.

They start to converse in a different language, Ivar's attempts to disregard me and stop my questions. Leaning over the table lightly to look over the maps, I notice the considerable resemblance to England, with the canals and small rivers surrounding it. Out of curiosity, I snatch one of the parchments lying on the side.

Ivar's eyes narrow as he watches me study it, it doesn't take him long before he snatches back the map. Before I could even review it adequately enough.

"Hey, I was looking at that." He rolls his eyes and shakes his head before placing it back under the pile of parchment. I huff, annoyed, and look towards Ubbe, who is amused.

"Ubbe, when can I meet your wife?" I ask, happily. Ubbe perks up at the mention of Torvi, and I smile. Ivar sighs beside us at my interruption and clicks his tongue. Ubbe and I pay no mind to him.

"I can send her, she's willing to meet you." Before I could respond, Ivar interrupts.

"Ubbe," Ivar warns. Ubbe shakes his head and smiles my way. "We have come here to discuss our raid not to chitchat with the Christian." He slams his fist to the table lightly, but I shake my head

"I am just making conversation with my brother-in-law, what is so wrong with that?" He ticks his tongue while he shakes his head.

"You are distracting us if I knew you would join us and bother us I would have done this elsewhere." Ubbe watches this unfold, and all I can do is shake my head and furrow my eyebrows.

"I want to help, Ivar. My advice last time helped, didn't it?" Ivar shakes his head but says nothing.

"Her knowledge helped Ivar, let her stay." Ivar's jaw clenches at Ubbe's interjection. I take Ivar's silence as a response and a clear indication that I won. Well, Ubbe won.

They began to converse again, Ubbe looking to me every now and again. The thralls began to put plates and cutlery in front of us to prepare for dinner. I was excited, I was starving.

The paints lay in front of me, not noticing the opened black color I grab at my cup and in the process knock over the paint. I gasp in horror. Shit! Watching as the black paint drips to the maps. It engulfs the ends of the map, cutting off a quarter of the parchment.

Ivar's eyes trail from the paper to me, I gasp, and I gulp harshly. "Ivar, I am so sorry-"

His voice was loud and filled with anger. "You stupid Christian!." He leans closer towards me, the ax clenched in his hand.

"Ivar," Ubbe warns.

"What Ubbe?!" He leans even closer to me, which causes me to bump into the table as I jump up. "You are clumsy and stupid." Ivar turns to face me after looking back towards Ubbe. I am petrified, Ivar's eyes are dark now, laced in pure anger. "I'm going to blood eagle you in the hall and crucify you on that wall, you stupid woman!" He yells I jump at his voice. I do not move, fear to keep me in place.

He grabs at the parchment and watches as the paint drips off onto the stained table. He clenches his jaw and looks up from me in narrowed eyes.

This sets him off as the ax on his belt seems to fly right past my head, and it clatters against the wall, "GET OUT!" He yells, voices dark and angry. I bolt, rushing past Ubbe, who attempts to grab my arm to stop me, but I push past and out the door.

Completely forgetting my items or belongings, I know where I had to go. I had to get out of here, I needed to find a way home.

Ama's hand stops me as she grabs my arm, she had seen the scene unfold. I look to her, "I need to get out of here." Ama lets go of my arm as I rush past her, not even giving her a second look.

Rushing out into the open, people were giving me small looks of confusion. I paid them no mind as I rushed past them, a fistful of my dress in my hand as I ran.

It had taken me a minute before I had exited Kattegat's walls, and now I was off past a field and a few farms to the nearing foliage before me. I would hopefully be able to escape any searchers and maybe even find a place to sleep. I was a mess, I was ridden with anxiety and my rash actions, but fear was there, not for my escape but Ivar's actions. This was the first I'd seen of Ivar's fury. This was what the stories were, the man who was brutal and course. I had seen it, and I knew, marriage or no marriage, I was not going to stay any longer.

I thought back to Ama and even Sigrid, the little girl I had painted for who seemed like a new friend. I was no pagan, I knew they'd be better off without me.

I stop to catch my breath and look back behind me to the endless tree line, I was going to get lost. But I decided I needed to continue instead, quickening my pace to walk faster instead of run. Where was I going? I didn't know. Hopefully, I would end up finding a small village with some people who would help me find shelter and then a boat.

--

I had been walking for some time now, the sky was darkening, it was a thick grey. It might rain. I needed to find a place to sit under. I walked a few meters ahead before noticing the fire's crackling. I sighed, maybe they could help me. Slowly reaching, I was unsure what to say or even if I should just continue on up ahead.

Reaching a clearing where fire and some mats were places. No was there; however, maybe if I stood there for a bit, someone would return, and I could take warmth for the night.

Noticing some fish to the side and some weapons, my stomach did not grumble from my prior hunger. I had other things to worry about. Hearing the breaking off leaves and twigs, I twist my head to the side, and taking a step back, my back collides with a chest.

Turning sharply, I find a man with a thick blonde beard. His lips fixed to a smirk and eyes glazed—his grabs at my arm tightly.

"Let me go, I just need shelter I mean no harm." He seems to not pay attention to my words and tugs me forward. Away from the fire. "Let me go!" I squeal, tugging, and pulling at the grip on my arm. He was much more reliable in strength than me. Clearly, his height and built had something to do with it.

I was panicking now, I always get myself into trouble. "Please, where are you taking me!" the man ignores me still pulls me away from the clearing from the fire. He was probably taking me back to Ivar; these were his men. Ivar was going to do something much worse, and at that thought, I struggled even more. Using my feet, I kick him in the legs, but he's quick. Moving his legs in time, he grips me harder, and I squeal at the pain.

"Stop! What are you doing!" He whistles out with his spare hand. What was he doing? I thrash around, but he catches my other arm with his spare one. Realizing he was calling for someone else, another man comes through the clearing. This time with wild long ginger hair, but he was much shorter.

They start to converse in another language, and I realize he would not have understood me. So I move and thrash.

"Help! Please, someone!" Anyone, please. He no longer moved me further into the treeline. He stops in place, wasn't he taking me to Ivar? The man shoves me forward, his strength causing me to fall flat on my face. My body aches at the wind escaped my lungs quickly. I groan at the contact, scramble up to crawl away. My dress catching on my knees at the quick movement.

The men laugh at my attempts, yet they seem to not stop me scrambling. Maybe they've given up. Hastily grasping my dress, I crawl, but the copper-haired male comes closer towards me, and using his foot knocks me on my back harshly.

I had never been treated like this before, I was terrified for what they'd do to me. I needed to get out of here, I'm so stupid. Getting up on my forearms to stand the two men near me.

The bigger blonde male sniggered at my fear, scrambling back in hopes of delaying whatever they were going do to me. What had I gotten myself into, tears begin to form, and I know no crying was not going to save me now.

"Please, no," putting my hands up in defense. One of the taller men grabs at my wrist. They speak amongst them in a foreign language that I do not understand. Oh, dear Lord, save me.

One of the burley men grasp at my leg while the other stands over me, I twist and turn. I am a fool, he would shame me and kill me, this is how my life ends. Why did I not stay in Kattegat?

The sound of the men soon mixed with the distinct sound of a horse, a chariot lead by a white stallion darted towards us; the men were shocked in place. As were I. It was Ivar, the men direct their attention to the Viking king shooting towards them.

His chariot was darting closer at high speed, however before I could scramble out the way, Ivar stoops his horse close beside the two men. The stallion neighing in protest to the sudden stop.

Knocking one of the men over in the process, as he swings right beside us, I scramble back further as the men soon let go of me and focus further onto the incoming threat. I was in shock, utterly unsure, with eyes widened at the scene in front of me.

My body was shaking, and all I could do was watch as Ivar knocked the shorter man to the ground, his victory was short-lived as the taller man stabbed Ivar in the thigh. I gasp in horror.

Ivar seemed to drop off the chariot in the process, but this didn't seem to falter him as he raised his ax to the shorter man and used the advantage of the man's position to stab him.

Ivar pounded his weapon repeatedly into the man's chest, resting on my elbows. I watched as Ivar’s yelling matched to the stabbing. Anxiety and pure panic continued to race my heart and cause my body to shake in fear. The other man’s face was horrified at Ivar’s actions, and I watched as he scrambled up out into the forest line.

The blood splayed in the cold air, splashing onto Ivar’s face. The man was dead, that is for sure. Ivar slowed his movements as the adrenaline seemed to cease from his veins.

The fire in his eyes died down, and instantly he dropped his weapon to the side and slumped down in exhaustion. Scrambling onto all fours to push me up, the pain in my arm throbbed, and I hissed. Ivar’s stab wound caused him to groan, but I paid no mind.

I get up and rush towards the white horse, this could be my runaway opportunity. Looking to the surrounding foliage of trees in front of me I prepare to mount it. Preparing to leave, it was my chance to run. Looking back towards Ivar for a moment and noticing his body limp, but his breathing ragged.

I couldn’t leave him here. Ivar almost growls in pain, and his breathing becomes labored as he presses his hand into his leg, with the knife laying to the side. I couldn’t leave him there, could I? He had saved my life.

Rushing over towards him, I assess the damage. Ivar said nothing to me, so I attempt to help him.

“Ivar, hold still, please.” Ivar grunts at the pain, I watch as the blood seeps into the ground. His wound was bloodied, a pitted black stain large on his thigh. Clasping my hand over his leg. Ivar jerks up in protest, but I continue to securely press into the wound. “Ivar, I want to help you.”

"You need to help me," I say, pressing a hand to his shoulder and the other to his leg. His jaw clenched, breathing rushed and labored. "You have to help me, you need to stand," Ivar says nothing, I gulp harshly before helping him push himself to sit up. He groans loudly as I heave him up. The wind begins to quicken, and the cold meets my thinly clothed arms.

"That hurts you, stupid woman." I sit back, shocked at his sneered words.

"I am trying to help you!"

"This would have not happened if you hadn't run away." I huff at his remark and furrow my eyebrows.

"If you hadn't frightened me, I wouldn't have run away." He rolls his eyes even in his state. His insults do not falter me as I grasp his arm to stand. The horse Ivar had come with, tied to the chariot, proved useful. Maybe not for my escape plan but to help him. I decided it'd be best I walk beside the horse. So that's what I did, seating Ivar in the chariot, his protests followed, however.

"I am not useless, I am a man," I shake my head in annoyance. His words were random, but I ignore them, more focused on the injury.

"So, you can walk back to Kattegat?" I remark, hoping Ivar's complaints would end, and he'd let me get us back to Kattegat. He says nothing but clenches his jaw in pain and props himself further into the chariot to sit. Ivar watches me as I disappear onto the white stallion. Rubbing at its side, I sigh, back to Kattegat we go.

---

Making it back to Kattegat was a cold journey, guilt-trip, but after some direction from Ivar, we had made it again. Ivar was relentless in demonstrating he was still the fearless king, but the pain showed, and Ubbe helped me take him to our chambers. Ubbe's eyes wouldn't leave me as I had Ivar's arm wrapped over my shoulder for support. He was shocked, as were I.

"Do not touch me!" He bellowed as I attempted to cut the fabric from his legs to reveal the deep wound underneath. I shake my head and clench my jaw, awaiting for the thralls to come and attend to him.

"Hold still, Ivar," I say calmly as I tug at his clothes again. Ama and a few thralls rush towards me with a steaming bowl of water and some cloth. Ama passes me the fabric, not even attempting to heal the angered king herself, I don't blame her.

I hesitate to take the cloth from her hands. She gives me a look of uncertainty before I dip the fabric into the water. Ivar twists on the bed, pushing away the thralls as they stand beside me in fear. I'm guessing they have never dealt with Ivar, not with his legs. The ones he hides behind a brace and the crutch.

Being so close to Ivar in our shared chambers was odd, and I wasn't sure how to feel, especially as Ubbe urged the thralls out, Ama was pushed out, and I began to feel nervous. I wasn't fully assured of my healing skills, but from my knowledge, I knew I could stop the infection and hopefully ease his pain.

"Ivar, let her tend to your wound." Ivar shook his head with a clenched jaw. It was only us three in the room now, I appreciated Ubbe's attempts it assured me that Ivar might agree to let me help him.

He sneers but nods, jaw clenched harder than before. I don't know if its from the pain or the proximity. I hesitate before looking up towards Ubbe, who nods in my direction. Using the small knife, Ubbe had handed me I cut at the pant leg. A short cut had already been made by the blade, so I used my hands to rip the fabric. Ubbe notices my struggle and takes the knife and cuts a long strip down the pant. Revealing his crippled ones underneath.

Paying no mind to it, I take the dampened cloth and dab it on the wound. Ivar hisses, and I look up with a guilty look on my face. "I am sorry Ivar, this is going to hurt." However, his face wasn't laced with pain as much of his face was almost down. It'd seem he was vulnerable, and I had never seen Ivar like it before.

I did not mind his legs; if anything, they did not change the fact he had saved me and that I was grateful for that.

(gif’s in this section found by @fantasydevil2002​)

Ivar looks at me for a moment before his face turns sour, and he pushes my arm away forcibly. Ubbe sighs, “Ivar, do not make me get Hvitserk or the thralls.” Ivar groans and crosses his arms over his clothed chest. He huffs and settles his arms beside him. I turn to Ubbe,

“leave us for a moment, please?” Ubbe’s eyes almost widen at my request, but he also nods slowly, and Ivar also seems shocked. But I pay no attention to Ivar, watching as Ubbe hesitates at the door before leaving.

Turning my attention back to Ivar, I smile softly. “Thank you for saving my life.” Ivar looks at me from the side of his eyes, an almost smile making it to his lips. Hope to fill my heart.

"You're welcome." That's all I got, but it was short and sweet. Voice low and his face laced with uncertainty. Ivar let me tend to his wound, I continued to wipe the blood clean from his leg. I paid no attention to the state of his legs but the injury itself, hoping to ensure he can trust me.

It was a comfortable silence between us, it was a calming silence. Ivar's quietness warmed my heart as he no longer insulted me, but let me touch him. I was praying in my head that this would last just until he would be stitched by the thralls.

"I will grab Ama to help stitch you up." He nods but says nothing. Getting up from my spot beside the bed, I call for Ama. Looking back to Ivar, who dared not look me in the eyes for the rest of the night.

--

"I am surprised he let you attend to his legs," Ubbe says, making himself comfortable by the crackling fire to the side of the room.

"He is so stubborn," I admit plainly. Ubbe laughs a little at my statement. I sit parallel to him at the end of the bed.

Ivar was being attended by the thralls, taking a bath. I was glad to be alone with Ubbe. His company was always welcoming, and I was now more than excited to meet Torvi, hopefully soon.

"How is your arm?" Ubbe sat opposite me.

I hadn't noticed the throbbing in my own arm until Ama had pointed it out. Making a makeshift bandage around my bicep. I smile small, 

"It is alright." he nods at my response, "Ivar is in the most pain, mine is just a bruise" Ubbe laughs.

"Where were you running to?" his question was random and couldn't help but stare at Ubbe for a moment before swallowing thickly.

"I don't know where somewhere far from here." he shakes his head. Guilt wells up in my stomach at Ivar who had been more than bruised from the attack. Remembering the dead man in the forest.

"If I had known he would come after me and injure himself, I would not have run."

"Why did you run away so far?" He asked, sitting back against the chair comfortably.

"I was afraid, I thought running away would be better and I wasn't sure if I was ever going to be happy here, I don't fit in. I miss my family." Ubbe smiles at my words, and my cheeks get warm as my throat thickens.

"Ivar is Ivar, he will get better with time. I know he resents the things he said, he is ill-tempered."

"Ivar? Feel bad?" I say, dumb-founded by Ubbe's claims. He shook his head with a cheeky smile on his face.

"Ivar has a way with words; he says things to hide his true feelings," he says, running two fingers on the end of his hairy chin. "As soon as he scared you out of Kattegat, he ordered and was out of here like thunder. To find you."

I scoff and shake my head, "it's not that he felt bad Ubbe, the woman he has a marital alliance with was running away, which could affect that agreement." Ubbe studies me before shaking his head.

"I don't think so, you two may not be in love, but he knows that he crossed the line. Ivar is always full of surprises. As you saw, he let you tend to him, willingly." I let his words settle in my head. Ivar's act in saving my life was beyond what I expected. Looking to a week ago, when Ivar destroyed my belongings and mocked my religion that he would save my life today was plainly laughable.

Yet, here I stood with a bruised arm and an injured Ivar who had willingly let me tend to his legs. Something seemingly obscure but I knew tomorrow was going to be a new day. Hopefully, Ivar and I can be civil. Well, let's see how long that will last. Maybe more moments like this would be shared from now on.

LAMBS: @youbloodymadgenius​ @soleil-dor​ @alexa4040​ @secondratecomplaint​ @rose1729 @lol-haha-joke​ @vicmackeybullshxt @poisonous00​ @crackhead1-800​ @aaliyahros​e 

[satoruvt]

the color of you - gray (1)

HI IT TOOK ME 3 HOURS TO WRITE THIS AND I KNOW THATS LONG BUT I���M SOSOSOSO PROUD OF THIS AND THE ENTIRE SERIES SO PLEASE LIKE IT!!!!

pairing → hawks (keigo takami) x bakery owner!reader

word count → 1608

summary → you’re not really dating, so you can’t really be in love with him... right?

song inspo → poser by grace vanderwaal and the lights cover of hold on we’re going home by drake!!

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

It’s been a rough day already.

You’re late, your pants are still damp even after throwing them in the dryer twice, and there wasn’t even enough cereal for you to have a decent breakfast. The sky is clouded over in gray and normally you like the rain but given that you have to walk to work and because you’re late and your pants are damp and you’re hungry you didn’t even think about getting an umbrella and it’s too late now to go back. Your pace is fast, but you’re not sure you can outrun the darkening clouds. 

You reach into your pocket in hopes to at least pass the commute with some music, but all you find is your phone. You remember picking them up as you walked out the door, where the hell are they? You run a hand over both of your back pockets to feel for wires but there’s nothing - could they be in your jacket pocket? They’ve gotta be -

Your train of thought is interrupted when you collide with something head-on.

Dull pain blooms in your nose as it squishes against something - warm, you note - and you feel your body start to lose balance, but a pair of hands steadies you. The realization that you ran into another person hits you and you back up, putting as much distance between you and the person as you can.

“God, wow, I’m so sorry,” you start, but the gloves look familiar. You look up at the person and blink once, twice. “Oh. You’re Hawks.”

You’re fucking mortified.

Hawks offers you an amused smile, taking his hands away from you. “Yeah,” is all he says, and your brain will not shut up, because of course you had to literally run into the Number Two hero on a day that’s already heading downhill. It doesn’t help that you consider yourself a fan, either - nervousness pits in your stomach at the fact.

“Hey, you okay?” Hawks asks, putting a hand on your shoulder. You snap back into reality and nod, vigorous.

“Yeah, um -” oh, you sound stupid, “sorry. You’ve got enough on your plate as a hero, I bet you don’t need random people bumping into you everywhere.”

He chuckles, shrugging his shoulders. “Worse has happened.”

“Yeah?”

You’re expecting some villain horror-story, since you’re sure he has plenty of those. “Yeah. You know how many times KFC’s gotten my order wrong?”

You laugh and it’s genuine, not the unfortunate-small-talk laugh. “Sounds a bit like cannibalism,” you tease, motioning to his wings, and Hawks scoffs playfully.

“You seemed rushed earlier, don’t you have somewhere to be?”

His tone is sarcastic, lighthearted, but he’s right. You nod once, walking past him in a few steps. You turn around, facing him again as you walk backwards.

“See you on TV, hero!”

He turns to wave back at you, smirk on his lips. By the time you get to your bakery you’re twenty minutes late, but you figure you don’t really mind since your mood is better than before. When the rain falls, well after you’ve gotten to work, the sounds of it pattering against the concrete help you dream in monochrome between batches of cookies and cakes.

-

You sigh when you close the door to your apartment, letting all of your things drop to the floor. You don’t bother to pick them up - minus your phone - as you trudge to your room. Low daylight seeps in through the window, coating your room in pale light.

It doesn’t take long for you to change out of your outfit and into a pair of sweatpants and a comfortable hoodie, and after you do you flop onto your bed with a gentle thump. You turn on your phone, scrolling through social media, letting yourself enjoy a relaxing comedown from a busy day.

You show up on your own timeline on Twitter, and it first you brush it off as something you posted, but then you realize that you definitely didn’t take those pictures.

It’s you, this morning, standing outside with Hawks. The pictures look like they’re taken from across the street, but it’s definitely you. The first one is of Hawks holding onto you after you bumped into each other, and the next few are of each of you laughing and why the hell is this on Twitter? Who took these?

The account that posted them is just an update account, you find - the caption reads “Hawks and an unknown woman in Tokyo today!”; unbiased, simple. The comments are mean, though, a bunch of angry fangirls screaming about how you’re probably a slut and a total bitch. It doesn’t bother you - there’s nothing between you and Hawks to be jeopardized by fifteen-year-olds - so you place a short, direct comment among them: “that’s me lol.”

Within a short time - fifteen minutes while you leave your phone to make yourself a simple dinner - your notifications are blowing up, likes and replies showing up everywhere. The situation itself is minor, it doesn’t affect you, so you simply turn on do not disturb as you shove a forkful of food into your mouth.

That should do it.

-

The next day is basic - few customers, few employees, it’s no different than any other day. You’re in the kitchen most of the day, making donuts and bread and anything else that a bakery needs. It’s not until closing, when one of your employees tells you they’ve finished cleaning up and they’re about to leave, that you really step outside of the kitchen and into the front of house for more than a few minutes.

You’re throwing away the items in the display window when you hear the bell by the door ring.

You turn to tell whoever’s come in that you’re closed now - though it might be your fault since you forgot to switch the sign over from open to closed - but when you turn around you’re speechless for a moment.

“I didn’t think I’d see you so soon,” you manage to get out to Hawks. “Much less when I’m perfectly fine and not being terrorized by a villain.”

Hawks chuckles, and you notice another man beside him. He introduces him as his publicist, and you nod, but you can’t help from furrowing your eyebrows because why are the two of them here?

You’re at least ninety percent sure you didn’t ask that out loud, but Hawks’ publicist answers your question without any prompt. 

“I’d like you and Hawks to establish a fake relationship.”

The bakery is eerily silent as you try to process what’s just been said, and you blink a few times before licking your lips and speaking. “I’m sorry, um - what?”

You cast a gaze towards Hawks and he sends you a sympathetic look, shrugging as he stands behind his publicist. I can’t help you, his eyes say, and what the hell is going on?

“I really don’t think I’m the right person for this -” you start to say, voice quick, but the publicist cuts you off quickly.

“I disagree, I think you’re the perfect candidate.”

Hawks steps into the conversation as he hoists himself up onto a table, not bothering to sit on one of the chairs. “It’d be easier,” he says, “there are already a bunch of pictures of us all over social media. I know you’ve seen ‘em.”

Ah, right, your brain says. “And you’re okay with this?”

Hawks smiles, unashamed, and you know firsthand now why everyone says he never takes things seriously enough. “Public image is the most important asset a hero can have.”

They’ve got a point about you being a good candidate, and you can’t deny that. The pictures are already on the internet, everyone already knows who you are by now, and it’d be a shock for someone else to suddenly come into the picture after rumors are already floating around. And Hawks is right about public image - whether you’re aiming for the top spot or not, you have to rely on the population to support you.

“If it makes any difference,” the publicist starts, “the publicity would help your business. You started it on your own, right?”

How the hell is he getting this information?

“Yeah,” you say, and you mean to say something more, but nothing else comes out of your mouth. He’s right, you realize, and then, and I need the publicity. Running your own business is no easy feat, and with how little customers you have… “Can I - can I have some time to think about it?”

The publicist hands you a business card with a prompt “please let me know your decision by tonight” before walking out of your bakery like nothing happened. You look at the card, flip it between your fingers gingerly. Hawks gets up from the table.

“If you don’t feel comfortable with it, I won’t make you do anything,” he says. “But this could help both of us, so I hope you do think about it.”

You nod at him, muttering a “yeah, I will,” before he too walks out of the bakery. The room is silent again, and you put the card in your back pocket as you finish cleaning out the display case. The walk home is quiet, calm, and it’s not until you get there, sitting on the couch, that you look at the card again.

You stare at the number on it, flipping and bending it through your fingers. He said to call him by the end of the night, you still have a few hours before you really have to decide…

You reach into your pocket and pull out your phone to dial the number.

[shuahoonie]

you. [tom holland] - six.

PAIRING: tom holland x female!celebrity!reader

SUMMARY: ah, to be young and in love. it sounds great if only you and tom were actually dating out of pure love and not for the sheer reputation of your careers. it also should be great if you two actually got along, but life isn’t that easy.

WARNINGS: mostly swearing! mentions of alcohol! a bit of fluff, a bit of angst. it’s haters to lovers / fake dating au so take that information as you wish! 

WORD COUNT: 2735

SONG INSPO: can’t take my eyes off you - emilie mover 

A/N: hiya babes, again, sorry if this chapter is posted very late. i have absolutely no excuses this time, it’s just me really. times are tough and if i’m being honest, i’ve had a rough couple of weeks. my academics really hit me in the worst possible way and i’m really am sorry if i wasn’t able to uphold my promises to post over the break. 🥺 also, beware of my plot timeline! i had a rough plan that i wanted this to take place during pre-ffh days! anyway, enjoy chapter six and happy reading! x 

UPDATES EVERY SATURDAY 11 PM CST WHENEVER I CAN  [I’M TRYING TO POST EVERY SATURDAY, I REALLY AM]

gif credits: @parkerpunology

vanessa’s masterlist | preview | one | two | three | four | five | seven | eight | eight.5 [interview excerpt] 

Two months. You and Tom were already dating for two months. The last two months were a whirlwind for both of you, more so for you. Once the news broke out that you and Tom were dating, it was expected that people would lose their minds over it. 

However, like how news typically withholds its relevance these days, it died down a week after. You both actually didn’t mind it since it put you two at ease. You and Tom see each other for thrice a week, dropping a few nuggets that you two are together. 

Some days, Tom would drop by at your filming location. 

“Y/N,” Steven, a stunt coordinator, sang your name with a teasing look painted on his face. “Guess who’s here.” He was helping you with your scene, making sure that you were safe as you did your stunts.

“Please tell me it’s Charlotte with my phone,” You moaned as you fixed your shirt as Steven began unbuckling your harness. You were standing on top of a high platform and had just finished doing your stunt for the show, the Alchemist. 

“Honey, do you think I’d be this excited if it was your assistant with your phone?” Steven rolled his eyes. “It’s your loverboy,” He teased, pointing to a figure. 

Based on the state of altitude you were in, you could practically see everybody. You can see some of the crew were busy with fixing the set for the following scene. You could see the producer busy speaking to whoever’s on the other side of the phone. You could also see your ‘loverboy’ talking to the director. 

Tom was standing next to Alissa, the director, as they talked animatedly. He was wearing a grey shirt that hugged his body like a second skin and a pair of black joggers. He looked very casual, but as much as you hated to admit it, he still looked good. 

Catching your gaze, Tom gave you a smile and a wave. 

You were still getting used to the idea that you were seeing him, so you turned your head as fast as you could. It’s as if your crush caught you staring at him in middle school. 

Steven let out a small giggle, “You guys are so cute. You two are like grade-schoolers.” 

“Oh, shush.” You said as you felt your face burn, embarrassed that Steven caught what just happened. 

“Shush yourself, hon,” Steven laughed “It seems like Tom found it absolutely adorable.” 

You turned your head back to look at Tom and there with his arms crossed, he was laughing softly. He had his complete attention on you. 

You signalled him to give you a minute as you descend from the platform to greet your ‘boyfriend’. 

Seeing that you both were actors, you had to use your skill sometimes.

“Tommy,” You’ve grown to love that nickname for Tom, knowing that he absolutely despised it. “What are you doing here?” You asked, your tone sickeningly sweet, as you greeted him with a hug. 

For a moment, his eyes flickered upon hearing the nickname you just called him. “Came here to surprise you, princess.” He said with a smirk as he squeezed you in a hug. He knew you hated that nickname too. It was obvious that you two were playing the same game. 

“Oh, but you didn’t have to, Tommy,” You said with a huge smile, the words practically gritting in between your teeth.

“I know,” He replied. What he did next caught you off-guard being that you two never really displayed that amount of PDA out in the open. “However, I do miss my girlfriend and I wanted to surprise her.” He said before he held the side of your face and placed a soft kiss on your cheek. 

Boy, you were surprised alright. 

Some days, you would drop by at Tom’s filming locations. 

Tom had just finished his scene with Jake Gyllenhaal. You decided to visit your ‘boyfriend’ at his set for Far From Home. As soon as the director yelled cut, Tom caught your eye and gave you a wave.

“Are you getting bored, babe?” You turned to the figure who just asked you the question and saw Zendaya wearing her MJ clothes. You’ve grown a huge liking towards Tom’s castmates ever since Tom introduced you to them, especially Zendaya since she’s been nothing but nice to you. 

You gave Zendaya a small smile and shook your head no. You’ve sat and watched them shoot for a little over two hours now, and it was only reasonable that he’d ask how you were doing. 

“You know, you two are absolutely adorable.” She commented as she gave you a playful nudge, sitting next to you. 

“We’re absolutely not,” You chuckled, feeling shy.

“It’s true,” Zendaya laughed “Tom seems like he’s at his happiest whenever he’s with you.” 

As if on cue, Tom started jogging his way towards you and Zendaya with a huge smile on his face. 

“Hi, princess,” Tom engulfed you with a huge hug. “Are you still good? What are you two laughing at?” He asked in the middle of the hug. 

The intimacy you two had to show in public was still something you had to work on-not so much for Tom though. You weren’t used to displaying affection even when you used to date your ex.

“Oh, we’re just laughing at you.” You said nonchalantly, a teasing smile hanging off your lips. 

“Me? Why me?” 

“Because you’ve got it bad for Y/N,” Zendaya answered cheekily, “You’re happier around your girlfriend, Tom.” 

“Yeah, that’s true.” Tom acknowledged making you roll your eyes playfully. “I am at my best whenever I’m around Y/N.” He said as cupped the sides of your face and planted a small kiss on the top of your nose.

You begged to differ. Tom had to act like he’s at his happiest whenever he’s around you. 

“Liv, I look ridiculous. I don’t even have the boobs for this.” You said as you finished putting on the bridesmaid dress and examined your chest, as the dress sported a deep v-neck. You and Veronica were standing in front of a mirror, wearing a floor-length burgundy chiffon dress. 

“Shut up, Y/N,” Veronica said as she fixed the delicately pinned flowers on your hair. “You look great, I think Tom might actually fall in love with you.” Ronnie teased. 

“Fuck off, Ronnie.” You mumbled. “I can’t believe you actually let me invite him, Liv.” You told Olivia, who was busy getting into her wedding dress. 

“Uh, of course. He’s your boyfriend, ‘ya doof.” Olivia, who was putting on her dress behind the dressing panel, said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Also can you two help me with my dress? I need someone to zip me up.” Liv went out wearing a gorgeous wedding dress. It was an off-shoulder sweetheart cut white dress with touches of lace and glimmer. 

“Oh, you look gorgeous, Liv.” Veronica sighed as she stared at Olivia with tears brimming her eyes. “I still can’t believe you’re getting married this soon, girl.” 

“I know,” Olivia agreed, fixing her hair, “but I just love him you know? He makes me a better person. I’ve never felt love like this before.” She said while trying to fight off the tears that were forming on her eyes. 

You and Veronica rushed in to give Olivia a huge hug, tears were close to shedding and all of you didn’t want to sit in the makeup chair again. 

You were so sure that Olivia was rushing to get married, that maybe she wasn’t thinking things through. However, as you saw your best friend be at the happiest she’s ever been, you figured that getting married was probably the most adamant decision Olivia has ever made. 

At 24, Olivia found herself in the arms of the person she’s bound to spend her whole life with. 

“I gotta walk down that aisle before I ruin my makeup completely,” Olivia said half-jokingly, fanning herself. 

And so she did. Olivia managed to walk down the aisle without completely crying her makeup off, Josh, however, lost it. He was fully sobbing as soon as he saw Olivia walk. 

You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the two of them, you saw two people so full of love that the only way to express it was to cry. 

As the ceremony proceeded on, your thoughts were somewhere else. You’ve always wondered if ever you’ll find someone who’ll make you feel the same way as them, that tears would start falling because you were so in love.

However, that would have to wait as you were currently tied with the person you were sure you weren’t going to be in love with. Your gaze automatically went to Tom, who was coincidentally staring at you. You turned your attention back to the couple who were getting married in front of you, your cheeks burning. 

Your mind was about to come up with different possible reasons as to why Tom was staring at you, but you had to stop yourself. You don’t need that in your life. 

“You okay, Y/N?” Ronnie asked as she took a sip of her champagne. You nodded your head and finished your third glass of champagne. “Are you sure? Because I’ve known you long enough to know that you start to drink heavily when something’s bugging you.” 

The reception was over and the newly-wed couple has had their first dance as husband and wife. People were now just letting themselves loose on the dancefloor. 

“I’m fine, Ronnie,” You assured her as you called the waiter to give you another glass. “Don’t mind me, you know how weddings make me feel.” 

“Yes, which is why I’m terrified.” Veronica murmured. 

“Don’t be silly, Ronnie. I can handle myself really.” You said as you scanned the crowd. You saw Tom talking to a couple of girls, seeming like he was desperate to get out of the conversation as soon as possible. 

Soon enough, he caught you staring and it seemed like he was relieved to see you. Not long after, he was practically running to you. 

“Looks like prince charming is coming to get you,” Veronica chuckled as she grabbed her purse and drink from the table. “I’ll see you later, babe. Text me if you’re leaving.” 

“Where are you going and why are you leaving me?” You practically whined. Veronica wasn’t surprised, you were whiny after three drinks. 

“I have to go and meet Josh’s parents, they wanted to see me after mentioning that I was looking for a place that I could do my internship,” Ronnie explained “Besides, it looks like you’re going to be taken care of. If you aren’t, call me ASAP.” 

You huffed and dismissed your friend. As soon as Veronica left, Tom arrived at your table. 

“Oh, thank god I saw you Y/N. It was brutal out there, some people just can’t get a hint-”

“Why are you here?” You asked as soon as Tom sat down next to you. Tom was caught off-guard by your hostility. 

“I-uh, what?” Tom wasn’t really sure what’s happening, sure enough, what he did wrong to have you act this way. This wouldn’t be much of a surprise if he knew that he pressed your buttons way too many times, however, that wasn’t the case. 

“Aren’t you busy talking to those girls over there?” You asked, now grateful for the newly filled glass of champagne that was just handed to you. The waiter was about to give Tom too but he kindly refused. 

“Actually, I was desperate to leave the conversation. It was getting annoying and they kept insisting that I’m just dating you for clout.” Tom explained as he massaged his temples. 

“They weren’t lying.” You mumbled before taking a sip from your glass. “You looked like you were having fun though-which I didn’t mind, by the way.” 

“Y/N-”

“Tom, you know you can just leave all of this, right? Like no one is forcing you to stay this long because you won’t get the short end of the stick. It’s me who's going to get most of the damage.” 

“That’s not true, Y/N. I’m just as affected as you will be.” Tom stressed. “Where is this all coming from?” He asked, getting frustrated. 

Much like Tom, you were getting frustrated too. Why are you being hostile around him? It’s not like he’s actually dating you, you have no reason to act this way. 

“Alcohol makes me see things more clearly,” You muttered. It was all that you could say. After all, nothing was making sense for you.  

“That’s what got us in trouble in the first place,” He claimed as he grabbed your glass and placed it far away from you. Tom stood up and offered his hand to you. “Come, let’s dance. It’ll clear your head.” 

“I don’t want to,” You moaned as you threw your head back. “I planned on drinking so if you’re not going to join me, then just leave.”

Tom shook his head no. “I got a note from Ronnie that I need to stop you after three drinks and apparently, you’re on your fourth so ‘nough is enough, princess.” 

“Even if I’m not going to drink, I’m still not dancing with you.” You said as you crossed your arms. 

“Wanna bet?” You just sat there and listened. You were interested as there was no way in hell he can make you dance. 

“That wasn’t fair, you practically set me up.” You grumbled as Tom happily led you to the dance floor. The jig was if you stood up, you’re automatically going to dance with Tom. 

Being the ‘sneaky little shit’ (Veronica’s choice of words) that Tom was, he secretly texted Ronnie and asked her if she could potentially lure you into assisting her to the washrooms. 

You were skeptical at first, but you eventually obliged. It was Ronnie’s choice of words that made you do it. “Y/N, I swear to god, I’m about to pee. If you don’t help me unzip my dress, I will physically hurt you.” 

Tom was now short of 50 bucks because of that favour. 

“Oh, c’mon, princess. You know that isn’t true.” Tom tried to keep a straight face but obviously failed as he was now grinning at your annoyed face. 

“This is ridiculous, you know that I’m a horrible dancer right?” You said as Tom put your arms around his neck and he placed his hands on your waist. 

“I think I’ll manage, princess.” He chuckled. 

“No, I’m not kidding. You will leave with a huge bruise on your foot-feet. I might step on both of your feet, there’s a huge possibility.”

Tom stared at you for a moment before saying, “I guess it’s a price I’m willing to pay.”

They were playing a slower version of “Can’t Take My Eyes Off You” and you groaned softly. “What’s wrong, princess?” 

“You’ll never let that pet name go, won’t you?” You asked, rolling your eyes. 

“No, I don’t think I will.” He answered cheekily. 

You two slow danced to the melody of the song and you couldn’t help it but say, “God, I love this song. Why did they have to play it?”

“I guess it was meant to be- Oh god, it’s them again,” Tom said as he saw the girls who were trying to steal his attention all night. 

You took a look at the girls and sure enough, they were watching the two of you and were whispering amongst themselves. You didn’t know who they were so you were assuming they were on Josh’s guests. 

You weren’t one to start fights however, you were extremely petty though. It’s a habit you’re trying to get rid of. “Hey, Tom?” 

He hummed in response. “Do you want to finally get them off your back?” You asked him. He stared at you for a moment before nodding. 

“I’m going to do something but promise me you’ll forget it as soon as it’s done.” You disclosed, not even knowing why you’re actually going to do it. 

“Okay...” You knew he was getting curious. “What-”

You grabbed the side of his face and kissed the corner of his lips. To say that both of you were surprised was an understatement. 

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@sectusempried

[chilling-seavey]

Family beach day blurb with the pics of Daniel on the paddle board as inspo!!

Bro…my literal favourite kind of ask yesss 🧡

For those living under a rock, or have yet to follow me for my daily Seavey updates, these are the pictures used for inspo:

Thursday, July 22, 2032

I’ll be working on another ask about more details of this little vacation (now that I kind of have my inspo for a vacation I can answer that one that’s been in my mailbox for ever lol) but basically what you need to know is Daniel often was sent on weekend/three-day business trips to LA once in a while – maybe once or sometimes twice a year - just to work with the main office down there and some other clients. So when another trip lined up with summer break, Florence and Daniel took that opportunity to pay extra to stay an extra week and bring the whole family of five down to LA.

Daniel had to work for the first bit of their trip – they arrived on the Sunday morning and he worked Monday-Wednesday – and then the rest of the week they all had free. LA heat was no joke compared to Toronto summers and the family hit the beach all together as soon as they could.

Clementine was thirteen and was more than ready to show off her brand-new bikini to the California guys. Daniel would have stapled a cover up on her if he could have. Penelope and Lucy were just excited to go swimming in the ocean. They set up their stuff in an empty space of sand on the beach, laying out towels and their bags and passed around the sunscreen.

Penelope hated sunscreen and she had the hugest cringe on her face as Daniel slathered her up, making sure to get her shoulders and nose until she was squirming away, “Okay, okay, okay, that’s fine!”

“I wanna lick it.” Lucy giggled, sticking her tongue out and trying to squirt a bit of sunscreen out from the bottle.

“Oh my gosh, do not do that.” Daniel laughed, snatching the bottle from her. “Hair up.”

Lucy scrunched her hair up off her shoulders to let him apply her sunscreen, nearly bouncing on her toes with excitement. At freshly eight-years-old, she felt like a whole grownup and the idea of swimming in the ocean without direct parental supervision was revolutionary to her.

Clementine had put her own sunscreen on and dropped her cover up incredibly dramatically, making her parents glance at each other as they held back their laughter at their barely-a-teenager.

“Turn.” Daniel said, the youngest doing a little spin to face him and she scrunched her eyes closed to let him apply sunscreen to her face. With a poke to her nose she was done and Daniel tossed the bottle of sunscreen onto the towel, wiping the excess cream from his hands onto himself.

“Can we go now?” Penelope asked, trying to rub off the sticky sunscreen from her skin.

“We have something planned first.” Florence said.

“What?” Clementine frowned, having already secured her spot on the towel to ‘tan’.

“You and your underage self are going to do some paddle board yoga with us.” Daniel said with a smirk at her glare.

“What’s that?” Lucy asked as they made their way down the beach.

“It’s like a class where they teach you yoga on the water!” Florence explained, taking her hand as they walked.

“So…like…something for old people.” Penelope mumbled.

“Not really.” Daniel snorted. “I have not seen a single old person doing this.”

“Your dad did it once.” Florence said.

“A while ago but, yeah, I guess you’re right.” Daniel laughed. “So, yes, I have seen an old person do this.”

They got checked in at the booth, the parents signing a few forms first before they got their boards and the girls waited impatiently with them. Florence slipped her arm around Daniel’s back and rested her chin on his shoulder to whisper a little, “Why do you always have to look so hot?”

His little smirk made her smile and he passed the clipboard back to the lady at the stand and then looked to his wife, pulling her close by her waist with a soft, “Wondering the same thing about you, baby.”

“Can we get a move on?” Lucy grabbed Daniel’s other hand before he could even lean down to kiss his wife and pulled him off towards the water.

They all got their boards and paddles and the instructor led them out into the water. The main goal was to not fall off the board which honestly was easier said than done and as Florence already had fallen off twice just trying to paddle out to deeper water. Honestly Penelope was no better and she could barely get standing without wiping out.

Daniel was doing just fine and Clementine managed to get standing beside him on her board with reasonable ease, Lucy standing on wobbly legs with her arms outstretched and bum stuck out to try not to fall.

“With your arms raised, we’re going to balance on one foot, like so.” The instructor imitated the pose from the centre of their little circle.

“Yeah, no, that’s not going to happen.” Florence snorted to herself, making Daniel laugh from her left as he adjusted the board with the paddle.

“Gotta try, Flora.” he said, raising his palms together above his head. “Trying new things today.”

“Come on, Mommy!” Lucy grinned, shaking like hell on her board with her terrible form, looking more like an excited puppy wagging its tail than a calm yoga student.

“Lucy-” Clementine laughed just as the youngest sister completely wiped out with a huge splash and the board nearly went flying.

“Oh my God, I’m gonna pee my pants!” Penelope shrieked with laughter, barely able to catch herself before she was stumbling into the water too, making Daniel wobble a little through his own laughter before steadying himself.

“What is with you guys?” Clementine whispered through her concentration, her hands above her head as she slowly raised her right foot to her opposite knee.

“Geez, Clem, look at you.” Florence said with a small applause.

“Why are you making it look so easy?” Lucy grumbled, climbing back onto her board, her blonde hair plastered over her face and shoulders with sea water.

“Because it is easy.” Daniel whispered through his perfect pose.

The group held it for a moment before the instructor moved onto the next pose, “Now carefully get on your knees.”

Daniel glanced over at Florence with a cheeky smirk as he sunk down, “Come on, baby. I know you’re good at this.”

“Daniel James.” Florence gaped, throwing a wave of water at him.

The instructor continued, “And you’re going to anchor your hands on the side of the board, spread your weight between your arms and your head and push into a handstand.”

Daniel took a second to watch the girls try first; Lucy getting too excited and doing a complete back flop right off the board and into the water, Penelope being too nervous to even push herself up with enough power to make a solid handstand. Clementine managed a little but her legs were off and she ended up falling sideways into the water, pulling herself back out with heavy coughs.

“I inhaled sea water! Bleh!” she pushed her hair out of her face as she climbed back on the board.

Daniel could only laugh at his sweet girls trying their hardest.

“Your turn, Daddy.” Penelope said.

“It’s not easy, thank you very much!” Lucy added.

He could only smile to himself as he set his hands tightly on the side of the board and leaned forward, carefully and slowly raising his legs up to keep his weight centred before finishing in a perfect handstand on the board.

The four girls simply gaped at him.

“It’s perfectly easy, Luce.” Daniel chuckled, his form earning a round of applause from the rest of the group as well as the instructor.

“Show off.” Clementine nudged his board with her paddle enough to get him to topple over into the water. His impact splashed Florence completely and nearly took her down with him, the whole family erupting in laughter as he surfaced again with his hair plastered over his forehead.

“You look like an egg, Daddy!” Lucy shrieked, laughing so hard she fell off her own board again.

Even the rest of the group laughed at the eight-year-old’s comment and Daniel ruffled a hand through his hair to try and give it some sort of volume.

“Not gonna work, baby.” Florence teased. “Not until it dries a little.”

“Come here.” Daniel swam a few paces over to her board where she sat with one leg on either side. He grabbed her arm and puckered out his lips for a kiss.

“Go away!” Florence laughed as he tried to pull her down to him.

“Pull her in the water!” Clementine said.

“No! Don’t you dare! Daniel!” Florence shrieked as he pushed himself out of the water just enough to wrap an arm around her waist and yanked her right off the board. She tried to stay on by linking her thighs tighter around the board, pushing her hand against his chest to try and keep him away from her. “Daniel James-!”

He cut her scream off by just flipping the board with her on it, taking himself down with her, submerging them both under water. Daniel pulled her to the surface, arms tucked around her waist to keep her from getting away, pressing a strong kiss to her lips as she pushed her hair out of her face.

“Oh my gosh, baby.” Florence flushed with embarrassment as the rest of the class looked on, her arms around his shoulders and their bodies pressed up tightly together in the water, but he just hid his proud smirk into her neck, leaving kisses over her wet skin.

“Oh my gosh is right.” Clementine rolled her eyes. “Get a room.”

[hockeytrashgoblin]

Ice Cold ~Part 3

A/N: Hi all! An update tonight and expect one tomorrow too! I’ve been writing like crazy and I really hope you guys are enjoying so far and will in the future too! It gets a little angsty in a few parts. I’m sorry for making Auston a bad guy again. It’s just a character though, I really do like him quite a bit. He’s just the easiest one to make mean. I think it’s how serious he always seems to be. I dunno. I promise to write a cute one of Auston after this is all done and that Max Domi one will also be finished soon I hope! I lost all inspo on that one but I’m getting back into it! Anywho I hope you enjoy this part!

"Hey (y/n)! Wait up!"

"Oh for fuck sake.." I mumbled to myself before turning around. "Hi Peter."

"How have you been? I haven't talked to you in a couple weeks."

"Yeah good, I've been good. Super busy, what with unpacking and getting settled into a new area and all. Work stuff."

"That does sound busy."

"It is."

"Too busy to answer a text?"

"Peter cut it out."

"Alright, alright sorry." He said putting his hands up in surrender. He still had a smirk on his face and it creeped me out. Not the smirk I wanted. I kept walking towards the entrance of the building and he just kept following.

"Can I help you with something?" I asked with an edge in my voice.

"So Nylander huh?"

"What about him?"

"Kind of a pretty boy, isn't he?"

"I guess. What does it matter?"

"I keep having to write articles about you two."

"Okay..sorry?" I had seen the articles. They were disgusting, objectifying me at every turn and insulting William. There had been 3 in the last two weeks following times we had gone on dates.

"Don't be sorry I just want to know are you guys a thing? Are you dating? Fucking? What's the story?"

"What's the story? That's all I am to you right now is your inside scoop of a fucking juicy rumor filled story?"

"What no! That didn't come out right!"

"You know what? You can just go fuck yourself Peter." I opened the door to leave but he grabbed my arm.

"(Y/n) wait-"

"Don't talk to me right now and absolutely do not touch me. Ever." I said ripping my arm from his grip and storming away through the snow to union station. The whole subway ride I just stewed in my anger. Who did Peter think he was? Asking me who I'm fucking or if I'm fucking to write in an article for the world to read. As if it was anyone's business in the first place. It was dark by the time I got off and started my 15 minute walk home. I felt really uneasy though so I took out my phone to make a call.

"Hi sweetheart, on your way home?" William answered on the first ring. I felt more comfortable immediately.

"Hi, yeah I just got off the subway. I felt really uncomfortable though for some reason so I called you to talk while I walk. I hope that's okay?"

"Of course that's okay! I like that I make you comfortable enough that you'd call me."

"You make me feel very comfortable. What's the sound?"

"Come on- wanna say hi!- just let me-"

"It's just, ow fuck, Kasperi."

"Oh tell him hi for me."

"Hi (y/n)! Come visit me!"

"Kas shut up!" I heard a loud thud and then it was quiet. "Sorry about that."

"It's okay. I like him, he's funny."

"He's a fan of you too. He likes that you make me happy."

"You're so sweet. I'm glad I make you happy because you make me happy too."

"That makes me so pleased. Your happiness is most important to me."

"Well you make me happy so just keep doing what you're doing." I said opening my door and locking it behind me.

"You're home now?"

"Yes."

"Did you lock the door?"

"Yes I always do. I don't feel safe without it."

"Good."

"What do you mean good?" It was quiet except for rustling. "William?"

"Sorry love I'm just worried about you. You had a bad feeling and I just want you to feel okay. Feel safe."

"You make me feel safe. That's why I'm talking to you. I'll probably be fine, I just need to calm down." I said as there was a crash outside my place.

"What was that?"

"You heard that too?"

"Yes what was it?"

"I don't know..something outside. I don't wanna check."

"Good don't. Stay locked in your house. I don't trust this at all."

"William I just heard it again.."

"Would you be okay with me coming over?"

"Yes."

"I'd feel better if you weren't alone."

"Me too."

"I'll be there in a few minutes."

"How?"

"I'm already on my way actually. I'll explain when I get there."

"William there's something at my window." I said, panic rising in my voice.

"I'm coming sweetheart. This is me I'm knocking on the door right now let me in."

"Okay." I looked through the peephole and opened the door for him, quickly locking it behind him. "Hi."

"Hi cutie. Nice pajamas." He said smirking at me.

"Shut up I was getting ready for bed."

"No they're cute, I quite like them."

"Thank you." I said falling into his arms for a hug. "Thank you for coming."

"Of course. I wouldn't just leave you alone like that."

"I was scared.."

"I know (y/n), its okay. I'm here now, nothing will harm you. If anything I will harm someone else."

"So why were you already on your way?"

"You didn't forget about that huh?"

"Nope." I said laughing with him.

"Morgan told me I should. That it would be a smart idea."

"Why?"

"He's..special." William said slowly. 

"Don't suppose you'll elaborate on that?"

"He's what I guess you'd call a psychic almost? Maybe like a fortune teller?"

"So he can see the future is what you're saying?"

"Yes."

"That is pretty special. Is he any good?"

"The best, honestly. I've never met someone who is right about so many future predictions."

"How does it work?"

"I don't really think it's my place to tell you everything about it."

"Just one more question?"

"Depends. Go ahead."

"Is it just broad? Like the whole world."

"He gets stuff like that and also he can focus on a smaller scale and get stuff for a single person."

"Did he see something bad for me?"

"Not necessarily. He saw something bad but knew that I was going to come over and fix it."

"I'm glad you came to fix it." I said hugging him again. "Sorry I'm being so touchy..I'm just relieved and I kinda always do that."

"Don't be sorry my sweet girl." He said holding the sides of my face giving me a kiss on the forehead. "You're tired. Do you want to lay down?"

"Will you come too?"

"That might not be the best idea."

"Please? I won't try anything, I swear. I just want you close by.."

"Hey that's okay. I didn't think you would make advances and even if you did they wouldn't altogether be unwanted. I just didn't want you to feel any pressure. I'll be as close as you want me."

"Come on then." I pulled him by his hand towards my room. I flipped the comforter up and gestured for him to join me in my bed. He laughed and got it with me. I cuddled up into his side. "Is this okay?"

"This is so nice. I love this."

"Okay good."

"How was work today?"

"It was pretty good until the end."

"What happened?"

"Peter stopped me after work."

"I don't like him." William mumbled playing with my hair.

"Uh yeah fucking me neither."

"What did he want?"

"He's been writing articles about us and wanted me to give him the exclusive details so he could publish them first."

"That's gross. I don't like his articles. I don't like the way he talks about you."

"Me neither. It doesn't feel good."

"What we do has nothing to do with him. Our relationship is ours alone."

"Is that what this is? A relationship?"

"Oh I'm sorry I didn't mean to say that out loud."

"It's okay if that's not what you want.." I said quietly.

"No silly girl, that is exactly what I want. I want to be with you. I just wanted to bring it up differently."

"Be with me like a boyfriend kind of thing?"

"I wish you wouldn't be so insecure (y/n). You have no reason to be like that with me. Yes I want to be your boyfriend. I would be so lucky."

"So are we officially together then?"

"Yes, lovely."

"Okay good." I said smiling, giving him a small kiss that he returned eagerly. When we broke apart I was out of breath. "Wow."

"Yeah.." he said giggling, making me laugh too. "Of all the things my hands have held, the best by far is you."

"Aww William! That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me."

"I'm going to say nice things to you forever." He smiled and gave me another smaller kiss.

"Oh yeah about the relationship only being our business, Amy knows most of the business. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. The boys are very aware of everything too. Probably more so."

"You guys are pretty close huh?"

"They're my brothers. Auston, Morgan, Kas, and Mitch. We have a bond like no one else's I promise you that. I love those guys."

"I'm glad that you've got such great friends. It's sweet how you talk about them."

"They're great people. I know you think Auston is awful but he really isn't."

"I don't think he's awful William. I think he hates me. It's different."

"It's silly. I'll admit he's not too fond of this situation but it has nothing to do with you. He wouldn't like me to be with anyone."

"He'd rather you be alone?"

"Yes."

"That doesn't seem very nice."

"Auston thinks I'm too trusting. He doesn't trust anyone. Mitch is with someone and it's a complicated situation. Morgan has someone and it's slightly less complicated. Me, Kappy, and Auston are usually alone. It's easier that way."

"How come?"

"There's just a lot of secrets that's all. Things we can't share that make it hard to be with us."

"Well I don't like secrets much."

"I don't think I'll be keeping many from you, if any. Morgan said-" he stopped himself and shook his head. "Sorry. I know it sounds weird to go off what Morgan says."

"Not at all. I'm never gonna judge anyone on what they think or believe. If Morgan is right all the time it makes sense that you'd put that kind of faith in him."

"You're so incredible." He murmured with his warm eyes looking at me. He leaned in and kissed me. I broke it to yawn though and he laughed. "Let's sleep, yeah?"

"I don't wanna though."

"Why not? You're tired."

"I want to spend more time with you. Talking to you. I don't want to sleep."

"We have all the time in the world (y/n). Just go to bed so you're not tired tomorrow."

"Will you be here when I wake up?" I asked softly.

"You think I'd just leave in the middle of the night?"

"I hope not but I don't know."

"I won't leave unless you specifically ask me to."

"Well I'm not going to ask that."

"Then I will be right here when you wake up. Get up and I'll turn off the lights." I groaned making him laugh as he got up. He turned the light off and crawled back into bed behind me, spooning me, pulling my back close to his chest.

"Goodnight William."

"Goodnight lovely." He kissed my neck and settled to go to bed. I fell asleep so fast.

[ruffboijuliaburnsides]

voiceless jaskier au (pt 8)

A full chapter today! Gasp shock awe. This means AO3 has also been updated, if that’s your location of choice to read this :)

Thank you all for reading, and for @humbled-bard specifically bc I got a little inspo boost after seeing the nice thing they said in their reblog tags ^_^ (seriously y’all comments are WRITER FUEL, validation is the good shit that makes us go.)

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 9) (Part 10) Now on AO3!

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

Mahakam's capital was loud.

It was to be expected, obviously, Jaskier knew that. Geralt had explained, in bits here and there, why exactly they had such a robust signal language. The foundries and bells in Mount Carbon alone had cost a number of workers their hearing, so in turn they'd taken the idea of hand signals and turned it into what was, essentially, a complete language. And that's what he and Geralt were, hopefully, going to learn, so that he could have his words back, if not his music. Jaskier found himself thinking of it more as something to look forward to as time went on, because he had so many. He had stretches when they all choked him trying to escaped or disappeared entirely, and he retreated to foggy drifting or lost an hour or so, staring at nothing while still apparently doing things, but they were coming less often, for less time. Which was good, because Geralt was always frowning and sad when he came back.

Geralt had stopped, the day they finally got to the capital, and put wax in his ears, and Jaskier'd wondered about it right up until they finally actually reached the bridge to the city.

It was so loud even to him, even echoing out the gate and across the Langbridge, that there was no way in hell Geralt would've been able to function, with his witcher senses.

The guards at the gate were suspicious, heavily-armored dwarves who did not look particularly like they'd let them in without a damn good reason and possibly a bribe. Mahakam held her secrets close to the chest, it was how they'd managed to keep such a tight hold on their domination of the iron and steel industries, nevermind weaponsmithing, but it meant that it was extremely difficult to gain access as an outsider, especially for a long-term stay. They'd only managed to get through to even reach Mount Carbon because of Geralt being a witcher, most likely, which didn't bode well for actually getting what they were hoping.

Jaskier hoped Geralt would be able to charm the guards, since the biggest contribution he could hope to provide was a smile that he was pretty confident he couldn't quite get past "crooked and nervous". It really didn't help that Geralt had that "getting ready to argue with someone who doesn't want to pay him" look on his face (and really it infuriated Jaskier, in the back of his mind, that he'd seen that face often enough to recognize it), and now Jaskier was imagining being turned away and refused the opportunity to learn how to let his words out and he couldn't make himself keep walking, and he couldn't breathe--

There was a sudden heavy weight on his shoulder and he startled out of his spiral to find Geralt's hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. "It'll be fine," Geralt rumbled, and Jaskier was rather sure for a moment that it was less a promise and more of a threat. Not to him, but to... the guards, Mahakam, the universe at large; Jaskier wasn't sure, but it was reassuring anyway.

Geralt didn't make threats lightly. Not real ones, anyway.

Jaskier managed to find a smile in him, shaky but sincere, and nodded in response, which made something soften fleetingly in Geralt's eyes. He released Jaskier's shoulder and strode forward, leading Roach, Jaskier hanging back a few steps fidgeting with the hem of his doublet and tapping his fingertips against his thumbs to try to get out a little of his excess energy. This is exactly why he'd left his tablets in the saddlebags as they approached - with this level of nervous energy, it probably would've gone flying, and then where would he be?

"On official business?" one of the dwarves asked gruffly as Geralt approached. "Don't remember hearing anyone put out a contract."

"Personal business, actually," Geralt said, coming obligingly to a halt just shy of being threatening. "Had a friend get hit with a curse that's left him mute." he gestured behind him, and Jaskier obligingly waved and tried to smile charmingly. Nope, he could already tell, it was more of that kind of half-sick smile when you're hungover and might vomit and are trying your best not to. Well, he'd tried. Maybe the clear discomfort and nerves would work in their advantage.

It didn't appear to be, however, given the way the guard's eyes narrowed looking at him. "And how's that led you here?" The guard asked Geralt after looking Jaskier over.

"Did a job here a few decades back," Geralt said. "Saw the hand signs some of the deaf folks use. Someone told me it's basically a full language."

The guard only raises an eyebrow, not making any move to give them access to the city. Geralt sighed, frustrated, and made a face that Jaskier knew meant he wanted to pinch the bridge of his knows. It probably didn't help that the sounds were almost certainly piercing even through the wax stoppering his ears.

"Listen," Geralt growled, clearly close to losing his temper, and Jaskier impulsively stepped forward and grabbed his elbow. Geralt looked down at him, startled, and Jaskier smiled encouragingly (crooked and scared, but encouraging). Geralt took a deep breath and turned back to the guard, who seemed to be watching their little interaction with slightly less immediate distrust. "Listen," Geralt repeated, but as a proper word, and not just a shape of snarling. "He's a storyteller. A bard. And he had his voice taken. He needs to be able to communicate. And I need to be able to understand."

It warmed Jaskier's heart a tiny bit, to hear him say that. It's not that he hadn't already known that was the plan - learn this and then go on the road together, because using hand signs wouldn't mean much of anything if there wasn't someone who understood them. Still. Hearing Geralt say he needed to be able to understand Jaskier felt good, even if it wasn't the same kind of need Jaskier wanted it to be.

The guard looked between them for a long moment, then nodded. "You'll have to go speak to the Elder," the guard said. "Make your case." He gestured to two of the other guards, who stepped forward. "They'll take you. Don't stray, witcher." Jaskier started to step forward, before Geralt even could, and the guard cleared his throat. Jaskier stopped, uncertainly flicking his gaze from the guard to Geralt.

Geralt growled, low and soft. "Just me," he said, not even really a question. The guard nodded confirmation that Geralt clearly hadn't needed, and Jaskier felt a sharp spike of panic returning. Geralt turned to Jaskier and held out the reins, which Jaskier took on instinct. "Stay with Roach," he said, clearly irritated. "I won't be long."

But he didn't turn away just yet, eyes scanning Jaskier's face, and then he let out a sharp breath. "Jaskier," he said, his voice suddenly so much softer even though the tight lines of anger still shaped the way he held himself. It helped, to hold on to his name shaped like that from Geralt's mouth, and Jaskier took a deep breath to try to steady himself. "Stay with Roach," he repeated, firm but still so painfully soft in a way that Jaskier couldn't let himself think about. Jaskier nodded, and pressed a hand to Roach's neck to ground himself in the warmth and movement of muscles under her skin.

"Sir witcher!" one of the guards snapped, clearly getting impatient. Geralt grimaced, but still stayed focused on Jaskier.

"Do you need to say anything before I go?" he asked seriously, and Jaskier felt like he had a bonfire in his chest from the question, so pointedly and deliberately in contrast to the last time they'd separated. Jaskier shook his head, then made a shooing motion to get Geralt moving.

He thought, maybe, he caught the ghost of a smile on Geralt's face as he turned to go.

Jaskier turned, before he was out of sight, to press his head to Roach's shoulder, letting her mane tickle at his nose when she turned back to lip at his shirt, looking for the little treats he'd taken to carrying as a way to befriend the particular mare. They were friends now, which he wasn't sure if Geralt liked or not, but he still kept sugar cubes or bits of carrot or apple slices on him a lot. Not today, he wanted to say to her. I'm such an idiot for falling for your master, also. I don't know if my heart can handle much more kindness from him, to finish

"Just a precaution," the guard Geralt had spoken with said after Geralt and his chaperones had disappeared out of sight into the mountain, and Jaskier was unprepared to process anyone else speaking.

He frowned slightly and tilted his head at the guard as he pulled his forehead from where he'd rested it on Roach. Should he get his tablet, he wondered, or was that clear enough for people who didn't know him? What did that mean? Were they about to shackle him or something?

"Outsiders who haven't been invited," the guard clarified, his tone more conversational than he'd been with Geralt. "One of the party can, with good reason, make their case to the Elder to be granted leave to stay, either in the city itself or in Mahakam in general. Be a bit difficult for you or the horse to make it, so..."

Realization hit him like a wave of warm relief, pouring down his head and shoulders, and he sagged a bit with it. The guard was trying to be reassuring, had seen Jaskier's stress at being separated from Geralt in such an uncertain situation. And Geralt was fine, because it was normal to send people in alone to see their Elder, to help keep their secrets. He flashed a grateful smile to the guard, then glanced around for an out-of-the-way place to wait for Geralt to get back.

There really wasn't one, since the gates were at the end of a long stone bridge, and Roach could probably stand to have a little time to graze. Jaskier waved a little to get the guard's attention, though he didn't seem to need to, as the guard was attentive as soon as he'd turned back to them. He wasn't sure if it was him doing his job or him trying to make things easier for Jaskier. Jaskier gestured to himself and Roach, then pointed back down the bridge, then mimed... well, sleeping, even if he meant rest.

"Should be safe enough for you and the horse to be out there," the guard said, nodding. "We've patrols that'll come by fairly regular. I'll let your witcher know you're out there, when he comes back out."

Jaskier nodded gratefully, waved again, and started to walk Roach back across the bridge, trying not to feel a thrum of pleasure at hearing Geralt described as his witcher.

The grass was sparse, when they got to the area past the bridge, but Roach seemed happy enough with it. Jaskier knew she was well-behaved but tied her reins to a low tree branch anyway, just in case. The view was beautiful, mountains and distant mines and the faint echo of the foundries barely reaching him on the wind.

It was so silent that each noise there was felt amplified, the soft creak of Roach's saddle as she shifted, the crunching of grass in her teeth, the wind rushing past him, his heartbeat in his ears. It was somehow so much despite being not much of anything at all. He'd always drowned out the silence with music and song. It helped him focus his wandering thoughts, gave him something to narrow the world to so that he didn't try to hear and think everything, and it hadn't been too bad until the last couple of days, as the fog in his mind stopped rolling in. As much as he'd hated the feeling of not being able to think at all... well, it had forced his mind to not go into overdrive. And even if he wasn't talking, somehow Geralt's presence helped offset it all.

He grimaced as Roach moved one of her feet, the sound of the ground under her hoof jarring and sharp, and rubbed his thumb over his fingers.

His lute case sat strapped to Roach's saddle, and even though the thought of playing without being able to sing still sat like molten iron in his stomach and ribs, he was going to have some kind of meltdown if he had to sit here in silence until Geralt came back.

He unstrapped it slowly, handling it gingerly, like it might burn him, then sat on a rock and, carefully, so carefully, unlatched the case and lifted his lute out and set it in his lap.

It shouldn't feel strange for Jaskier to hold his lute, but it did. It had only been a few weeks, but he hadn't played once. He couldn't remember a day between first really learning the lute and the djinn that he hadn't played at least a little, and yet here he was, feeling almost like he wasn't allowed to play.

He glanced over at Roach for encouragement. She didn't seem at all interested in anything he was doing. Well thanks for the help, he thought, and went through the familiar movements of beginning to get his lute in tune. He started to hum a familiar, long-practiced note to help him quickly get the first string in tune, and his hands stilled.

It was such a little thing, he thought, suddenly clutching the lute like it was the only thing tethering him to the mountain. It was such a little thing to both forget and be this upset over. He didn't need to hum, he knew the tuning as well as he knew the feeling of swirling thoughts in his mind when it was starting to race. But he couldn't quite bring himself to continue after that.

It was such a little thing to be this upset by.

(He was such a little thing without his voice.)

He didn't want to be this upset, but tears started to streak down his cheeks anyway. He couldn't move, until one landed on the lute itself, and he instinctively used his sleeve to dry the spot, and then he could move again, and but the lute - a bit too roughly - back in its case, not bothering to properly close or latch it.

Then he turned his back on it and sat on the rock, swiping bitterly at his tears, and waited.

**

It probably wasn't that long before Jaskier heard footsteps on the path behind him and Roach nickered in that way she only did for Geralt, maybe an hour at most. It had felt like days. Jaskier had evolved from sitting and staring into the distance trying not to cry to throwing rocks into the distance and trying not to cry.

Geralt didn't say anything. Jaskier could swear he felt Geralt's eyes burning on him, standing next to the lute case while Jaskier bent down for another rock to fling inexpertly into the trees further down the mountain. But he didn't say anything, not about the lute or the meeting with the Elder or anything, and Jaskier wished he would, wished he would break the damn silence, because he couldn't.

Instead, he heard the soft sounds of his lute being properly seated in its case, the case being latched, and carried over to Roach. Jaskier threw another rock, and the faint sound of the rock's landing was blocked by the sounds of Roach's packs being re-tied and adjusted, to secure the lute in place.

Why wasn't Geralt saying anything?

Jaskier threw another rock.

"Your technique's shit," came Geralt's voice rumbling low right behind him. Jaskier jumped, startled that Geralt had gotten so close without him hearing, and Geralt's hand shot out to steady him so he wouldn't fall. He pressed his hand over his heart and glowered at Geralt, so the witcher would know exactly how much he did not appreciate being startled like that.

Geralt didn't seem to be bothered, just looked down at him with an expression that, for once, Jaskier had no idea how to read. Jaskier's glower faltered. Geralt put another rock in his hand and turned him around to face the direction he'd been. "Pull your arm back like this," Geralt said, nudging Jaskier's arm into the right position. Jaskier felt like he couldn't breathe, for once in a way that was entirely delicious. Geralt stilled for a second, probably assessing Jaskier's form, then backed off a few steps.

"Okay," Geralt rumbled. "Now lead with your elbow."

Might as well, Jaskier thought, and threw.

The rock went easily half again as far as any of the others Jaskier had thrown, and frankly, he was a little proud of that. He turned to Geralt with a grin, to see that same unreadable expression on it as before, but with the tiniest quirk of a smile.

"We'll work on it," he said, untied Roach's reins, and started down the road. "Come on. We're staying in a village an hour or so away. They've got some folks who teach." Jaskier trotted a bit to match Geralt's long stride, feeling almost - finally - like he wasn't drowning at all.

It didn't occur to him for a good half an hour that with one rock Geralt had, quite effectively, distracted him from his frustration and anger.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 9) (Part 10) Now on AO3!

[piccolina-mina]

But Who Takes Care of You?

Fandom: Roswell, New Mexico 

Pairing/Characters: Kyle Valenti and Maria DeLuca (Kyluca) 

Inspo: Who takes care of the caretakers? 

A/N: Because the show really needs to let Kyluca be great (preferably better than this, but it’s something). 

They’re the best apart, and they’d be even better together if they ever got more screentime. It’s a random freestyle I wasn’t sure if I would share, but #KylucaRights.:)

~~~~ 

i.

The desert air made him instantly feel at home.

The sun beamed down as he inhaled deeply and ignored the jostle of folks scurrying in and out of the airport.

“Ay Guapo!”

He didn’t have to see her to recognize the voice. His lip curled up into a genuine smile. His eyes darted around him until he saw her standing a few feet ahead holding a “Dr. McSexy” sign and smirking at him.

He sauntered over to her, his carry on in tow, and pulled his sunglasses off when he got closer.

“Are you posing? Rubbing it in with those cheekbones,” she snorted. “Every time I see you, you get hotter, Valenti.”

Maria flashed him that stunning smile that made him return one in kind.

“I would say the same, but you’ve always been hot. A little hard to improve on perfection.”

She rolled her eyes but grinned widely and before he realized it, he was wrapped up in her arms.

He squeezed her back, basked in her scent of sandalwood and vanilla, and the shea and coconut that clung to her hair.

They hugged for what felt like an eternity, but it was only a few moments.

He didn’t know when it happened exactly. He and Maria socialized in school, but they were never particularly close.

He was more than aware of how much of an ass he was back then, and she didn’t hesitate to remind him. Rosa’s death changed everything.

Their world tilted on its axis. He never anticipated how one tragedy could change the trajectory of their lives.

He didn’t know Rosa enough to feel like he lost her, but he lost Liz. Those years after were life-altering.

Any opportunity he had to make it back home, outside of his mother, the only constant was Maria. She was there, and familiar, and somehow they developed a bond over the years.

She kept up with his life on social media – the graduation ceremonies, the late-night bitching during residency, and her personal favorite thirst posts on Instagram.

He kept up with her too. She told him things his mother never did and updated him on old friends, like Alex. 

He visited her at the Pony when he was in town, and sometimes they would catch a movie at the drive-in and reminisce on the old days. Mainly, they would imagine what Liz Ortecho was up to.

“I thought you were driving?” Maria squinted up at him. She nudged him until he started walking, and it was only when they neared her truck did he realize she was driving him.

“I planned on it, but I got called into the hospital early at the last minute,” he stopped at her car and leaned against it taking in his surroundings and smiling fondly.

“Admit it, you were homesick and wanted out of Iowa,” Maria teased. She raised a brow daring him to refute.

“It was very cold and very white.”

Her laugh was contagious, and he found himself joining in with her.

“I just told mom before I boarded the flight. How’d you find out I was coming in early?”

“I’m psychic, remember?” She winked at him playfully, and he couldn’t stop grinning.

Maria always had that effect. She had a way of making everyone around her smile. She was comforting and real, and he never realized how much he missed her energy until he was sucked back into her orbit.

“You didn’t have to come for me,” he said quietly. “I know my way home.”

She shrugged, signaled for him to toss his luggage in the back and disappeared into the driver seat before he could read her expression.

He took his time arranging his luggage and sliding into the passenger seat. He sensed she needed a moment to regroup and put on that fun-loving facade he adored but knew she clung to more than she let on.

“Seriously, Maria. I know you’re busy,” he said carefully.

She reached out now and then for inquiries. His mother was the one who told him about Mimi’s mental deterioration, how she had bad days, and Maria juggled the Pony and looking after her mom.

He tried not to pry, but from what he knew, no one could figure out what was wrong.

“All work and no fun makes Maria a dull girl,” she drummed her fingers against the steering wheel as they waited for the cars ahead of them to pull off.

“I take off on special occasions,” she honked her horn, and he winced at the person flipping the bird back at them.

“I’m a special occasion?”

He went for sly, but something about the way her eyebrow rose equal parts impressed and flirty gave him the impression it sounded more suggestive than he intended.

But Maria always gave as good as she got.

“Only if you’re lucky, Valenti. You’re not that lucky.”

“The Insta comments say otherwise,” he teased her.

She shot him an annoyed look utterly ruined by her scrunched up mouth as she tried to keep from laughing.

Finally, a break in the traffic and Maria shot forward. He gripped the seat and instantly recalled her penchant for going above the speed limit.

“It feels like a special occasion anytime anyone makes it back home.” She was serious, and something about the tone of her voice made him want to squeeze her hand, but he refrained.

“Everyone deserves a welcome wagon, Kyle.”

‘It doesn’t get any warmer.“ He tilted his head to the side and added. “Thanks to you.”

And in a quintessential Maria move, she turned up the volume. He didn’t contain his excitement when the car flooded with Regulate.

Somewhere between the highway and his mother’s house they ended up in a heated rap battle sing-along, and he didn’t care what Maria said, he won.

Returning home came with its share of memories, many of them painful.

But it came with friends too.

ii.

 "Right or wrong. Don’t it turn you on–“

“Maria?!” He called out. The second he unlocked his apartment, her voice bounced across the no longer bare and no longer white walls.

“Can’t you see we’re wastin’ time, yeah,” she continued.

From the way she was swinging her hips and bobbing her head, he suspected her music was up too high for her to hear him.

“Maria!’ He called out louder, as he dropped his keys on the counter and shut the door behind him.

"Do you wanna touch …Yeah.”

“Maria!’ He tried again to no avail. He had to give it to her; she was committed. Her long legs and short overalls were splattered in paint.

She had her hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun, and she was retouching a small spot with the last of the paint.

He leaned against the kitchen island and for the first time took in his apartment. She had rearranged his furniture, finally putting it in place after far too long spent collecting dust in the first place the movers sat it down.

All of his boxes were emptied, and everything was seemingly put away. Instead of the college frat boy vibe happening from the moment he moved in, his place looked every bit the trendy bachelor pad that it was.

"Do you wanna touch– FUCK, Kyle!”

Maria spun around mid-dance move, and if he didn’t literally know any better, he would have thought he gave her a heart attack.

“You scared the shit out of me,” she tossed the paintbrush into the pan and swiped hair away from her forehead.

“Funny you should say that,” he tried to suppress his laughter, but it didn’t work. She rolled her eyes at him and plucked her earbuds out of her ears.

“I had the same reaction given there was someone else in my apartment. It’s been a while since I came home to a woman playing house.”

“See, this is the kind of tea I like to hear, and yet you keep withholding.”

He shook his head and padded to the refrigerator for a drink. Halfway through guzzling an iced tea, he noticed she was actually serious about her statement.

He made his way around the island until he was in front of her. Handed her a bottle and rested against the back of the couch.

“Fine, she was a live-in girlfriend for a year. She worked at the hospital too.”

Maria squealed. He found her way too thrilled about his love life, but who was he to deny her the small joys of gossip when she had done so much for him?

“Did she greet you at the door with a martini in hand?” She joked.

“Nah, usually she was naked,” he winked at her.

“Hate to disappoint you, Valenti, but I took a more practical approach.”

He softened staring around his apartment and all the changes she made.

His mother had got on his case for weeks about making his apartment into a home, but between work and sleep, he hadn’t gotten around to it.

She bought the paint, deliberately pushed boxes into the middle of the floor and hoped it would be enough to prompt him to get to work, but two months later, his apartment wasn’t that different than when he moved in.

Until now.

He didn’t recognize the curtains framing the windows or the area rugs, but given the color and flair, he knew it was all Maria.

His kitchen appliances were where they should have been. Throw pillows made his leather couch pop, and the tv no longer sat atop sturdy boxes but rather an actual stand.

For the first time, his apartment actually felt like home.

“Maria,” his dark eyes met hers, and he could hear the emotion in his voice. He tried to keep it at bay as he internally processed why this touched him so much.

“You didn’t have to do this,” his eyes landed on a frame on a shelf, a picture of his father, and his mother’s rosary resting over it.

He pulled Maria to him with one arm before she could react. He pressed his lips to her hair before clearing his throat and stepping away.

“You really didn’t-”

“Hey,” her eyes sparkling like glitter was the only indication she gave him that she was emotional too. “It’s no big deal. The Wild Pony flooded today, damn pipe burst, so I’m losing a day and a half. I needed the distraction.”

She cupped his face tenderly, flashing him a half-smile before giving him a light smack, breaking the spell.

“It was getting depressing, Kyle. Two months of your shit lying around, if I didn’t do it, would you ever have gotten around to it?”

“You sound like my mother. I have my doubts, but I’m guessing that’s how you got in?”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to,” she sing-songed backing up. “And you may want to enhance your security, just an FYI. I’d hook you up with my handy guy, but you two always had bad blood.”

He snorted. Not much changed between him and Michael Guerin since high school, but apparently, Maria developed a soft spot for the broody cowboy over the years.

“Hey, mind if a grab a quick shower before dinner?”

She asked, but it wasn’t lost on him that she was already headed towards the master bath.

She clearly had made herself at home.

“Why start asking now?” He plopped on the couch, finally getting the chance to put his feet up and relax after hours spent in the OR.

“Did you say dinner?” He bellowed from the couch.

“It’s on the way. I’m starving, and you’re paying. Don’t forget to tip,” she called out.

She peeked out from his bedroom dangling one of his workout shirts.

He could have sworn they were still packed in a box that morning, which meant Maria unpacked his bedroom too. The thought of that should have concerned him, but he pushed it out of his mind.

“I’m borrowing this!” Her head disappeared before he could so much as respond, and he chuckled to himself.

Before he knew it, he was tipping the delivery boy from his favorite BBQ joint, and Maria was setting up dinner in front of the big screen.

She smelled like his body wash, and she curled up on the couch next to him, cross-legged in his oversized shirt, and he didn’t even want to think about what of his she borrowed as bottoms.

“What’s your pleasure, D? Rom-com?” He took a bite of his brisket sandwich and hummed in appreciation.

“I know, right? The good stuff.” She mirrored him, a healthy bite making her cheeks bulge. “I don’t sniff at a good rom-com, but it’s an action kind of night.”

“Thank God,” he kicked his feet up on the coffee table and grabbed the remote. To his surprise, it was already keyed up for one of the Mission Impossibles.

“It’s OK, you don’t have to say it. I know I’m the best.”

He stole a french fry off her plate and laughed when she swatted his hand away. After a while, they settled into a comfortable silence watching the movie.

Truthfully, she really was.

iii.

On the anniversary of his father’s death, he learned to throw himself into work.

In the early days, in his youth, he would toy with a bottle of whiskey, roll the top between his fingers. He would inhale, slow and deep and wonder if he’d find a reason for why he had to lose his father so early in the bottom of a bottle.

He thought it would bring them closer together … him closer to understanding the man who he worshipped and ached for every day.

His father found answers at the bottom of a bottle, why couldn’t he?

But it was a slippery slope, and he knew that.

He’s not an addict, but he could be, and the thought of slipping into the darkness scares the hell out of him.

So he directed his energy into something else, usually picking up other shifts. And while he and his mother checked in with each other, their grieving processes were different.

He never gave it much thought. He didn’t want to intrude.

But when he got a text from Maria, he realized maybe, since he was home again, it was time to grieve together.

The Wild Pony was packed, as usual, and he felt out of place in his scrubs he didn’t bother to change out of.

He glanced around, afraid of what he might find. Maria reassured him in brief texts, but that day he wouldn’t get any comfort until he saw his mother for himself.

Maria was serving up drinks with a tired smile, and when her eyes met his from across the room, she nodded.

He followed her gaze to the back of the Pony. His mother was in her street clothes. Her hair was loose and obscuring her face – a black curtain falling over her eyes and dipping into what appeared to be a lukewarm cup of coffee in front of her.

He sighed. The other drunks and regulars didn’t seem to notice her or him for that matter. His father got away with a lot, but he doubted his mother as a female sheriff could. Small towns meant lots of gossiping.

“Mom,” he squatted down in front of her, his knees groaning with the action after a long shift. “Let me take you home, mom.”

She looked at him with bleary eyes and tear-stained cheeks. She didn’t see him at first. It was like she was looking through him, but when he folded her hands into his, she finally did.

She didn’t say a word; she merely nodded and reached out to stroke his jaw.

The only thing that rivaled the sadness in her eyes was the shame. She stood and grabbed his arm like it was the last thing keeping her from drowning. When he saw how broken she appeared, he thought maybe he was.

“Take me home, perrito,” her voice was hoarse, barely a whisper as they shuffled toward the door.

He pressed a kiss to the side of her head and bit his lip to keep from crying. The burning warmth on the side of his face as he guided his mother through huddled bodies was like its own hug.

Maria eyed him from behind the bar her brows knit in concern and mouthed, ‘Are you OK” or something akin to it.

A curt nod was all he could muster before they slipped out.

The drive to his childhood home was short, but the process of getting his mother settled down was long.

She refused to sleep in her bed– the bed she shared with his father for years. She settled on the couch, and after he slipped into some old clothes of his lying around, he did too.

She slumped into his lap and curled up on the couch like a small child. He could still smell the stale beer and gin. He stroked her hair – his nimble fingers ghosting across her forehead and pressed a cool compress to her neck.

The blinking light on his phone caught his eye, and he checked his messages.

Maria texted once to ask if he was alright and called once too.

He wasn’t alright. He was far from it, but there was nothing that could be done. His father’s old clock sounded, and it was only then when he realized it was past midnight.

But it was too late; his fingers worked of their own volition calling Maria before he could think.

“Hello,” she sounded tired but also concerned. The whooshing in the background meant she was driving home for the night.

“Kyle,” she breathed. He looked down at his mother softly snoring in his lap, and then the photo on the coffee table, a family portrait, but he couldn’t bring himself to respond.

“It’s OK,” her voice was soft and soothing. “You don’t have to talk. I promise I won’t hang up.”

His eyes prickled with tears he had managed to restrain all day. A gurgled sound crawled up his throat, and he inhaled sharp surprised the choked sob came from him.

He pressed the heel of his palm to his eyes trying to staunch the dam, but it was no use.

He could hear Maria hum soothingly, but it only made him cry more.

And that was how they stayed. He heard her car stop, the sound of the key scratching against the door. He heard her breathing as she went about her nightly routine.

He heard the water running, the soft creak of her climbing into bed, her sighs as her body relaxed after a long day.

“Thank you,” his voice was hoarse as he whispered into the phone, but at least his words were back. “Thank you for letting me know.”

“Of course, Kyle,” she sighed into the phone. “How is she doing?”

“Resting,” he whispered, not wanting to rouse her.

“How are you?”

The question caught him short. He exhaled slow, but it didn’t make his voice sound any less small and fragile. “I miss him,” he said honestly. “We both do.”

“I know,” Maria whispered back. “I know.”

And he knew she did. Her mother was still alive, but it was like she wasn’t there at all. Sometimes he wondered if that would feel worse; missing someone who was still there.

“I need to do better – be better,” he stroked his mother’s hair and bit back another strangled sob. “I’ve been so busy. We don’t check-in enough, and I–”

“You’re a good son, Kyle,” Maria yawned into the phone. “She talked about you nonstop, and she still does. She’s so proud of you.”

He sniffled and nodded his head, looking down at the woman in his lap. “Maybe so, but I should – ” he cleared his throat. “I just need to do a better job taking care of her too.”

“And you do, Ky…” Maria mumbled into the phone. Her speech slowed down as she struggled to stave off the slumber but failed. “But who takes care of you?”

He listened to her soft snores over the phone for a moment – the breathing of both women oddly relaxing him.

“Goodnight, Maria,” he whispered into the phone hanging up and succumbing to his own exhaustion.

iv.

He learned over the years that Maria had a knack for scaring the shit out of him, but it wasn’t until later he realized it wasn’t intentional on her part.

Somewhere between jamming out to his playlist and waiting for a gaggle of tourists to cross the town square, his passenger door opened unexpectedly.

Before he could so much as yelp in surprise, Maria slid in all flowy skirt and a hint of sandalwood.

“Shit! Maria, what –” one glance in her direction stopped him cold.

“Just drive, please,” her voice was raspy as if she had been crying, but he saw no traces of it.

“You want to talk about it?” He asked gently.

She placed bare feet up on the dash, her skirt billowing around her knees, and he refrained from lecturing her on the pitfalls of being in such a position if they ended up in an accident.

“No,” she said quietly. She pressed her face to the window and hugged herself.

He reached across the console and fastened her seatbelt for her, and turned the music up.

He didn’t know what was troubling her, but he understood the need for distraction.

He didn’t pry, but he did sing-a-long to his Latin mix badly. He could make Spanish sound the opposite of sexy when he made an effort, and while she didn’t join in, her lips would turn up just a tad during a particularly bad note. Her eyes were dark pools of sadness though.

She didn’t budge when he dropped letters off at the post office. She stared at the mechanizations of the car wash with that childlike wonder one never seemed to lose.

She tipped the young pimply-faced teen drying the car before he could dig out more singles, but she never said a word.

It was like he was on his own and Maria was his shadow.

She hopped out when it was time to go inside the grocery store. She tagged along like a bored kid, except she wasn’t so much bored as unusually quiet and distracted, with her mind a million miles away.

“I can feel your judgment from here,” he joked when he put a dozen frozen dinners into the basket.

“Inquiring minds want to know how are you a doctor with a body like that,” she gestured at him. “Living off of frozen dinners?”

“They’re quick, easy, and delicious. Don’t act like you don’t eat this shit too.” He tossed a box of Easy Mac into the basket and glowered.

“I’m poor, Kyle. Of course, I eat this shit,” she countered throwing two boxes of Pop-Tarts in with the other groceries.

“I’m poor too,” he smirked at her dubious expression. “Student loans.”

She nodded. “Touchè.”

To his surprise, shopping with Maria became an adventure. She tossed more crap into the cart, most of which he snuck out when she wasn’t looking.

She was a natural haggler too. She charmed the butcher into giving her, well, him, a deal on a couple of steaks which she promised to make for their next movie night.

They only had one mishap when he accidentally hit the back of her ankles with the cart, and he almost saw his life flash before his eyes when she glared at him.

They settled on a pint of ice cream, he caved to cookie dough because he promised her it would make her feel better, and they snagged a few spoons from the hot food bar before hitting the register.

She opted for the self-checkout, and he figured out it was for the best when she dug through her huge purse for a handful of coupons she knew she had in there.

He wasn’t a coupon person, and it embarrassed him a bit until he saved 13 bucks. He could live with Maria’s smug response after that.

She was lighter and happier, the Maria he was most familiar with by the time they settled down on a park bench to relax and share their pint.

An ensuing war over a coveted chunk of cookie dough led to a spoon battle and his utensil falling to its death in a pile of dirt.

“Mine!” She crowed claiming the piece.

He couldn’t resist laughing at her victory dance as she hummed in satisfaction at the sweet confectionery goodness melting on her tongue.

She didn’t see him coming when he plucked her spoon out of her mouth, dove into the pint and shoveled a hunk of ice cream into his.

“Hey, asshole!” She shrieked ignoring the dirty look a mother with her children shot her way.

“Sharing is caring,” he said around a mouthful of ice cream.

She rolled her eyes, snatched the spoon and pint back and went to town.

“This is the most fun I’ve had adulting in a long time,” he admitted truthfully.

“That’s because adulting isn’t meant to be fun,” she shrugged. The smile on her lips settled into a hard line.

“Let’s hear it, Maria.” He gently knocked his shoulder into hers. “Not that I didn’t enjoy you practically hijacking my car today, but what’s wrong?”

“They still don’t know what’s wrong with her,” she whispered. “Another specialist. More money that I don’t have spent, and no answer.”

She met his eyes briefly, and he saw the tears she was fighting back. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and offered a comforting squeeze.

“Maria, I can loan you–” he started even though he felt her tense beside him.

“No, Kyle. I can’t. You’ve helped me enough. Your colleague back in Iowa at least didn’t treat me like a crazy person or treat Mimi like an inconvenience. He was good, kind, and a breath of fresh air.

God knows I’ve run into my fair share of assholes. Not to mention the entire healthcare system is fucked…” she sighed.

He clenched his jaw as it pulsated with his own frustration. “Trust me, I know better than anyone.”

“It’s just every day I feel like I’m losing more of her,” she stared at a young mother helping a toddler climb on a plastic turtle.

“I know it seems like I …” she blew out a puff of air and distracted herself with stirring the remnants of ice cream until it became soupy.

“Losing pieces of her is like losing myself,” she shrugged. “She’s my compass, and she grounds me, without it – without her, I’m lost.”

He nodded. He understood that feeling after his father died.

“I think it’s incredible, the way you take care of Mimi…” he knew she didn’t always take compliments well, but he didn’t consider it a compliment so much as the truth. “It’s hard, and I can’t even begin to imagine, but I admire you, Maria. I hope you know that.”

She didn’t respond. She looked away instead, but he saw the way her cheeks were the slightest tinge of red.

“You take care of your mom, and you feed the community every month, and … ” he sighed, frustrated for his friend. “You need to let someone take care of you some time.”

“I’m a big girl, Kyle,” she went for light and flashed him that irresistible smile. “I can take care of myself.”

He wanted to add that she shouldn’t always have to, but in addition to knowing how hypocritical that would be of him, he sensed she wanted to drop the topic.

So he did.

“I’ll deny it later, and don’t let it get to your head, but I’m glad you’re back, Kyle.”

He chuckled, snatched the ice cream soup out of her hand and downed it.

“I am too,” he said after a while.

And he was.

v.

There were days when his job was the worst in the world.

Losing a patient never got easier, and no amount of experience could make delivering the news to the family less difficult.

His chest still ached from a pummel of fists hitting him as he eased a sobbing woman to the waiting room floor and held her.

His skin was blotchy and bruise. It was tender to the touch, but he welcomed the pain.

The pain reminded him that he was still alive, but it also reminded him that his patient wasn’t.

It took him a while to find a routine – something to direct all his energy towards in those dark moments.

Otherwise, the darkness would consume him. It would take a toll on him, but more importantly, it would interfere with his ability to be effective at his job.

He could never risk that; it was too important to him.

He retreated into himself. He declined the offers for drinks or dinner. He hit the gym and worked himself out until he collapsed, and then worked himself out some more.

Angry beats, a cacophony of harsh lyrics, blared in his ears as his feet slapped hard against the treadmill.

Sharp jabs against a punching bag until his knuckles were sore. 

Shadowboxing, more often than not, was easier on his hands; but sometimes he wanted to punish them for failing. For not healing. For allowing someone’s life to slip through their fingers.

He knew there was nothing he could have done, but feelings aren’t logical.

Then he hit the showers, hot water at a punishing setting sluicing against his skin in rivulets.

He drove home in silence, and sometimes he prayed and hoped the next day would be better.

On particularly hard days, an anguished scream would claw its way up to his throat, and he would cry. The echos of distraught family members and friends haunted him.

He would throw on a reality cooking competition and eat a frozen dinner until he fell asleep.

Everyone had their process.

His was almost complete until he arrived home and saw the kitchen light on over the stove.

He cursed to himself when he dropped the keys on the counter. He couldn’t… be if his mother dropped in.

She knew what it was like losing a person, but her way of coping differed from his.

“I know you probably don’t want to talk,” Maria came out of the bathroom not the least bit surprised by his appearance.

“I heard … that accident,” she wiped her hands down her sides to get off the remaining moisture. “I’m not staying. I just brought you something to eat.”

He was frozen in place, and he couldn’t meet her eyes. “Thanks,” he responded sharply.

He didn’t trust himself to say more, and fortunately, Maria seemed to understand.

He dropped his gym bag on the floor beside him.

His hair was still dripping from the shower, and his body already ached, and he just wanted to fall face-first into the couch, but he couldn’t bring himself to move.

The intrusion threw him all out of wack. Any move could lead to him being more vulnerable than he wanted to be in anyone’s presence, even hers.

But then there was something about her presence …

“I’m heading out now,” she said softly. “Text me later.”

She gave him a sympathetic smile as she brushed past him. She squeezed his shoulder on her way past. “Sorry for your loss, Kyle.”

His hand entangled with hers before he could think about it, grabbing and locking her hand in his as she breezed past.

“Stay,” his voice was gruff even to his own ears. “Please. If it isn’t too much trouble.”

She squeezed his hand and nodded.

He went around the island and peeled back the foil on the plate she left him. It was still hot.

He shuffled to the couch and collapsed on it like the wind had been knocked right out of him.

He turned on an old Master Chef and ate in silence. It wasn’t until a sweaty bottle of root beer was placed in his hand that he noticed Maria hadn’t sat beside him yet.

She was standing off to the side, and it suddenly hit him like a ton of bricks that she was trying to give him space.

Larger than life Maria DeLuca was making herself small for him, and that wouldn’t do.

He knew she meant well, but it made him feel shittier.

“I promise I don’t bite,” he went for a light joke, but it fell flat.

“No, you don’t,” Maria finally sat beside him, and his body relaxed. “You don’t need to make me feel comfortable, Kyle. I just wanted to give you space.”

Her hand entwined with his, and they sat in silence. But then it switched to Master Chef Juniors, and he lost it.

A toothy 10-year-old, eerily reminiscent of his patient, smiled into the camera. To his utter embarrassment, he began sobbing.

“He was only seven,” he sputtered. His voice was choked up and every attempt to rein himself in failed. “He loved wrestling and Spiderman. He wanted to be a fireman when he grew …” he couldn’t finish – cut off by his own sob.

He felt her shift closer, her arms wrapped around him tight enough to stop the onslaught of anxious breathing.

He buried his face into her neck, his embarrassment abandoned in favor of the full-body release of his sadness, anger, and pain.

Maria clicked her tongue, rocked him gently, and brushed her lips across his temple and damp hair.

“I’m s-sorry,” he choked out, aware of how he was dampening her neck and shirt with tears and God knows what else.

“Shhhh,” she hummed soothingly. “Talk it through. It’s OK if I don’t understand the procedure; just talk it through.”

He ran through the entire surgical procedure. Every step leading up to Levi’s surgery and every tool he used.

Maria stopped him on occasion to confirm it was the proper protocol, the proper utensil, and so on. When he was done, she made him repeat it all over again.

They were settled into the couch by then, his head resting on her chest wedged beneath her chin.

She scratched at his scalp, and at some point, his tears subsided, and his breathing matched hers.

“You did everything right, Kyle,” she said after a while. 

“Bless that sweet baby’s soul and his parents. You didn’t make any mistakes. There’s nothing else you could’ve done. He had the best care by the best doctor until he closed his eyes, and he went peacefully. Mourn him, but don’t let it eat away at you.”

He nodded. Knowing the truth and hearing the truth were two different things.

At some point, he felt he should have extricated himself from her embrace, but a selfish, lonely part of him relished the comfort.

As if reading his mind, like the psychic she proclaimed to be, she hugged him tighter.

Her heartbeat lulled him into the soundest sleep he had in months.

When he woke up, he was hugging a pillow that still smelled of her. it was a quarter past two.

He scanned the room bleary-eyed, the throw tossed over him tumbling to the floor with the effort.

The blinking on his cellphone let him know he had a text.

Had to run. Rest up and start again tomorrow. ♡

He shuffled into his room and fell onto his bed. He expected to feel a wave of regret and embarrassment, but it never came.

Instead, he felt unburdened.

vi.

He didn’t sign up for this. Him, Liz, Rosa, Alex, and Maria. None of them did.

But extraterrestrial bullshit invaded their lives, and they made do with it. Whether it was love and feelings or a birthright, the alien fight became their own.

But they weren’t resistant to attacks. They weren’t immune. They were fragile and susceptible.

They weren’t soldiers; they were humans. Assets. Liabilities. Victims.

Rosa was a victim once. It was something he fought to make peace with, and that took a long time. But now she was a victim too.

Flashes of the past two days flickered through his mind like an old film.

Another survivor from the crash was in their midst. What began as a tenuous partnership to help revive Max turned into lines drawn and a declaration of war.

All wars have casualties, and Maria was nearly one.

He couldn’t shake the image of Michael carrying her lifeless body across the desert.

It was the most distraught he had seen him since the prison explosion. Liz and Rosa flanked his sides.

Alex and Max were closing in behind them. There was blood everywhere.

He did what he could to stop the bleeding while Michael sped to the hospital.

He worked on her all the way to the OR, straddled over her form on the gurney willing her to live.

He physically fought his colleagues trying to rip him away.

As a general rule, no one is supposed to work on family and friends, but some rules were meant to be broken.

He couldn’t leave that OR if he wanted to, but he didn’t want to. There was no way in hell he could sit idly by when he could help.

He left the questions to his mother and Max. They could sort out the stories on their end, and he could do everything in his power to make sure his friend came out of it on the other side on his end.

He hadn’t slept in two days. He hadn’t left the hospital. He barely left her room at all.

He couldn’t lose anyone else. He got a second chance with Rosa, but second chances were anomalies, not the norm.

He rubbed his temples, closed his eyes and sighed.

“Y-you,” Maria croaked before clearing her throat with no success. “You look like shit, Valenti.”

She coughed and laughed at the same time before her body alerted her that both were a terrible idea. “Oww!” She groaned.

He was at her bedside in two long strides. His body relaxed for the first time in days as he poured her a cup of water and smiled fondly with utter relief as she drank it greedily.

“Take it easy,” he cooed, as he stroked her hair.

“I’m assuming I have a couple of cracked ribs?” She asked, her voice raspy.

“You would assume correctly.” He looked down on her and smiled. “I want to tell you that you look like shit too, but it would be a lie.”

“Flattery … will get you … everywhere,” she rasped as she tried to get comfortable. “Although …”

He scanned the machines and checked her vitals, and signaled the nurse that she was awake.

“Although, what?”

“Although, I briefly remember you on top of me, and…” she ran her fingers across the bandage on her chest. “You lucky bastard, you already saw me naked,” she joked.

“Ah. But the circumstances weren’t like I imagined. It would require a do-over.” He moved out of the way for the nurse to check out Maria.

After what seemed to be an eternity she left urging him to let Maria rest and get some himself.

“You imagined me?” It was like Maria to pick up where they left off.

He felt his face heat up.

“You scared the crap out of us, Maria,” he plopped on the bed and grabbed her hand.

“Nice swerve, Kyle, but I’ll allow it,” she squeezed his hand back. “Where is everyone?”

Her voice was small, and he wondered if she had an irrational fear that no one else showed up for her.

“I texted them that you were awake,” he replied running his fingers feather-light against the pulse in her wrist.

“Visiting hours are over, but almost everyone has been here,” he fretted over her. He knew he was doing it, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop.

“Almost everyone?” She looked wary. He could tell she already had her suspicions before he could confirm.

“Michael was thrown out two days ago,” he couldn’t hide his annoyance mentioning the most volatile of their pod squad acquaintances.

“He was too … aggressive. Others were complaining. He couldn’t be reined in. He really cares about you, you know?”

“I know,” she shook her head.

“And Rosa wasn’t happy that she couldn’t come,” he flashed back to how volatile his half-sister was. Max’s apartment was probably a wreck.

“Which one of them slugged you?” Maria ran her bandaged hand with the IV across his jawline.

“Rosa has a mean right hook,” he admitted not hiding how impressed he was by that.

“She always did,” Maria agreed. “How’s that going?”

“Still adjusting, I guess.”

“To know you is to love you, Kyle. She’ll come around,” she squeezed her eyes shut tight and exhaled slowly.

“Are you in pain? I can get you some more–”

“I’m fine, Kyle. I don’t need anything. I’m probably going to wish that alien bastard had finished the job when I get the medical bills though,” she blinked back tears and forced herself to smile.

“Maria –”

“Go figure, I got probed and in none of the fun ways. Stabbed in the chest by glowing alien paraphernalia and left to die in a cave is not how I expected to go. I’m guessing Max still can’t tap into his healing powers?”

He wanted to say so much – comfort her better, but he settled for going along with her topic change. “No, Max is still blocked. But Michael tried to heal you,” he met her eyes and shrugged.

“But Michael can’t heal…” her confusion was almost endearing to him.

“Didn’t stop him from trying,” he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He was still fretting and busying himself. “You had a close one. We thought we lost you twice, and none of us can bear losing anyone.

He was tired, and doctor mode bled into friend mode. He didn’t realize he was pulling back her gown and checking her bandage.

Her surgical wounds would heal nicely, if he said so himself. He secured the bandage tight, poked and prodded until he was satisfied.

At her cough he yanked out his stethoscope and listened, nodding to himself after confirming her breathing was fine.

He flashed a light in her eyes, studied her pupils and ignored her scrutiny.

He knew he looked like hell, bloodshot eyes, and dark circles around them. He hadn’t shaved in days, his dark stubble uncharacteristic. His hair was matted except for the tufts he mussed from constantly running his fingers through his hair.

“When’s the last time you slept, Kyle?” She asked innocently enough.

“I’m fine,” he lied. “Remember? I do this for a living.”

She raised her brow but dropped it. “What’s my prognosis, doc?”

“You look good,” he replied, his voice soft and worn even to his own ears. “You had a concussion, but we kept an eye on it. Your surgical incision looks good. You’ll barely have a scar.”

“Scars mean you lived – they mean you survived,” she replied.

“Yeah,” he rubbed his thumb across her hairline. “Yeah, they do. Vital organs were missed, so that’s –”

“When do I get out of here, Kyle?”

Leave it to Maria to get to the bottom line. It killed him that even then, her concern was financing. They probably didn’t require exceptional healthcare on whatever planet the others derived from.

“If you promise to take off and settle in at home, preferably somewhere with room and a simple floor plan, then I’ll get you out.”

Max’s spacious home came to mind, but there was also the cabin or even his apartment.

“But you need to rest, Maria.”

“Pot meet kettle, Kyle. Pot meet kettle.” She shuffled in the bed and winced and gasped in pain.

His jaw clenched as he bit back a sharp reprimand. She patted a spot on the bed beside her and raised her brow.

“Maria,” he started, too tired to argue with her but gearing up for one anyway.

“Don’t,” she glared at him. “Just for a little bit, please.”

She didn’t want to be alone. He understood that.

“Just for a little while,” he ignored her triumphant smirk. She acted as if she didn’t have a knack for making people bend to her will.

He slid beside her. The hospital bed was more comfortable than he cared to admit. He checked her vitals again, slid his arm beneath her, and gingerly pulled her into his chest.

It was a small enough bed where snuggling was the only option. She didn’t seem to mind. She burrowed herself into him.

He tucked the covers around her and double-checked to make sure her water pitcher was full. When she thought she hid a grimace, he upped her morphine drip.

He felt her soft laugh reverberate through him and how she shook her head infinitesimally.

“What?” He yawned. “Do I even want to know?”

“Always fretting,” she patted his hand gently. “You’re always taking care of everyone, but who takes care of you?”

He wanted to laugh. Instead, he rested his head on hers. He allowed her warmth and the sound of the heart monitor to lull him into a sleepy daze.

His eyelids were heavy, his voice husky with exhaustion as his lips barely grazed the shell of her ear.

“You, Maria.” He could tell he caught her by surprise. Her breath hitched, and admittedly, it made him smile.

 "It’s always you,“ he whispered as he finally drifted off to sleep.

—-

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh Season Zero: All Your Friends are Cursed

You know what? It’s been a while, lets revisit Zero.

For those new here, I’ve been also very slowly going through Season Zero alongside the show we are more familiar with, which is not at all the same as the other seasons. If you want to read just the recaps of Zero from the beginning you can do that by clicking on this link right here. I think I’ve only done like 3 or 4 so far.

OK. It’s been...a time since we ventured here to this very weird place, where were we?

So, first off you may have noticed there was a wee gap in updating, this is mostly because I burned up all my backlog when I got sick for two weeks (and I’m still hella tired) so...I’m playing catch up and this is a hobby, so it takes a back seat. But also, it’s partially because I was like suuuper conflicted with what I should do about that logo. Like, I did feel like I had to blur it just because I don’t want there to be confusion if the images ever get pulled away from this post, but I was seriously considering just repainting every cap because it sure bothered me a whole lot.

It was Illustrator OCD Problems that in the end don’t matter, but you can see my quandary of the right corner in the rest of these. Anyways, thanks Team Millennium for the fandubs so I don’t have to cap over subs. Y’all did a good job, and I get why they need to watermark since like...it’s Youtube so every random bot channel is stealing any other video getting clicks.

Also, this took a while because it’s like over 60 caps long. These Season Zero episodes are just...so much content. They’re so much. And I thought this one handles some interesting themes, so grab yourself a snack, because this is gonna be a little bit of a marathon. I could split it into two but like...I don’t know where to split it, so enjoy. This post is basically a 2 for 1.

Anyway, Shadi’s back. I didn’t really expect for him to be back so soon, but he’s here with a vengeance. He spooks up on Grandpa’s old Egyptologist friend (who’s name I have forgotten) and this guy kind of already knows what’s next.

In this episode, as you can see from the title, everyone is gonna get cursed. Except Miho, but like, I tend to forget she exists. We start off with Yuugi’s Grandfather’s friend getting tossed out a window, which is sort of strange because you figure that this guy wouldn’t let a girl drown down a well for a rare coin (which was the Shadi metric for if you deserve to be eaten by a chair). But apparently we were wrong and Grandpa’s friend has actually been a jackass this entire time.

"Your friend has actually been a jackass this entire time” is another underlying theme of this episode. What’s wild is that Yuugi and his Grandpa are not at all surprised by this revelation, nor do they seem to mind.

Shadi says something cryptic, decides he wants a rematch with the alter ego of Yuugi Muto, and then has the weirdest plan of how to do it. The rest of this recap is basically all of Shadi’s master plan and it’s...pretty...something.

(read more under the cut)

Since we haven’t gotten a Miho episode, I haven’t really gotten a chance to learn what she...is. Right now she just seems like a G rated Cheryl Tunt. Which is probably incorrect, I dunno maybe this girl will end up being their savior but for right now she just kind of uses Tristan for favors and enjoys spooky stuff maybe a little too much. I’m not sure she’s even aware what planet she’s on.

Shadi’s also looking more and more like a bird this episode with the artistic choice to join the brow to the nose with a deep shadow like this. If there’s deeper historical meaning to that, I have no idea. Went on a little deep dive through Google to see if it matches from art and sarcophagi from Egypt and Greece but like...nah. You do get a strong thin nose on golden sarcophagi that can give it a really cut look since it’s usually covered in reflective gold, so that could be it. But overall, joining the nose to brow is something more modern, I think. Just our own touch to make him a spook.

And honestly Yugioh really does enjoy putting a very heavy shadow between the eyebrows, but usually in the form of lots of lines and not a solid black shape.

Youknow we’ve never had the chance to enter anyone’s mind space before. I kind of assumed that no one other than Yuugi even had one. So Anzu’s mind, shouldn’t be too ba- oh

Just take this whole sequence, put some generic lo-fi on it, and you have yourself a youtube channel. It’s amazing how, since the 90′s anime style is back into fashion, this bizarre sequence just hit so many good notes. Those pink and blue flowers matched with a silver metallic tree with weird purple fruit? Not gonna lie, that’s some good inspo material. Maye not the weird bird and terrifying 90′s sun--I don’t know why he’s here--but everything else? Shoot.

This hasn’t come up before and the only guy with G in his name that I can think of is Gozoboro and he cannot be this guy. Maybe just a reference to some comic book stuff because he does have a Superman shape to that G, but I don’t know comics well enough to know if this was a manga Superman parody.

PS now that we know that Tea’s mind is just a lo-fi channel, we now know that Bakura and Marik have just been hanging out next to a weird silver fruit tree, staring at a horrifying green sun and avoiding eye contact with one single green bird for basically this entire Noah arc. Assuming of course that a piece of Bakura is still in there in Tea’s mind, which he may have decided to vacate at this point because what’s he supposed to do in there? Do barre?

Maybe they both just do barre workouts in the tea mindfort while a parrot awkwardly watches.

So Shadi has been just hanging out in Tea’s head for how long? Like half a day now?

She really has always been the ghost uber. From the very beginning. Wow.

Also, speaking of vaporwave, the pink to yellow tint on the irises? A+. That could be your lo-fi thumbnail, easy.

Anyway we are blessed with another tiny Yuugi this episode. I think I’ve mentioned it before but I’ll mention it again, I love it when artists have to draw their characters as small as ants because then the characters are given their rawest, purest form. Which in his case is just being very squat and having hair with spikes.

And then Anzu somehow hides in this closet and tips over a bunch of beams at him. Are these cross country beams? What are these? I did water polo and swim team so I just have no idea what you land people did.

When beams don’t work out, Shadi sets in play the next step of his super evil and sinister plan. Please remember that this guy is a 5000 year old very scary ghost with crazy OP powers.

So then Shadi starts his third phase. So far we’ve had a bunch of poles and a basketball, what will be next? Will Anzu come up with two chalkboard erasers and start pounding them together to make a sick chalk cloud? Will Anzu step on the back of Yuugi’s shoe so his foot falls out? Will Anzu unzip his backpack when he’s not looking so all his books fall out? What dick move will Anzu do?

SOOOOOO

This is a thing that canonically happened in Yugioh.

It’s like finding out that Big Bird once violently choked out Elmo in Season One but now they’re good and they don’t want to talk about it.

Like...this is a lot and it’s not even discussed in this very episode!

The one time.

The one time they should have just ditched.

This is the one time you should just find a boat/blimp, smuggle yourself on board, and then play cards for a straight week with an evil psychopath. The one time.

No wonder they go out of their way to avoid this school for the rest of this show. They ditch just to survive their 1st year of High School.

So they decided to split up which...they’ve made worse choices, and only Yugi finds Tea. What would Shadi’s plan have been if anyone else was up here first?

Reminder that in the second or third episode of Season 1, Joey and Yugi came up here to reminisce the good ol days. I had no idea at the time that the “good ol days” involved being dangled on the edge of whatever this weird contraption is called.

Eat your heart out Jeffree Star and Rituel de Fille, Shadi here did black highlighter first. In 1999. And that nose is snatched.

Appropriately, Honda is still embracing his janitorial duties. Maybe that’s why he’s not a janitor anymore? Because he was getting tooooo into being a janitor? Like if you go janitor while being a zombie that’s toooooo much janitorial.

Another thing Season Zero does that may either be a limitation of their budget or just a limitation of their experience is that, unlike most foreign films, the pacing of the cuts are really quick. Like REALLY frantic. (And yeah I’m generalizing a lot when I say that Western shows and movies have quicker cuts, but lets just say that it’s true about 90% of the time. Not better or worse, just different.)

And like, this was the 90′s, a time period I don’t really remember, but back then we were into bizarre editing. It was a very experimental time in film because suddenly there were a lot of computer and filming tools available for a decent price and people kind of lost their minds. They were getting into doing tons of dutch angles and tons of filters and it was just a real...interesting time in film. It’s gauche by our standards but like...art kind of lives in the time period it’s from and you shouldn’t pull it out and compare it to our current standards too much because--welcome to 90′s Xtreme cuts. Docking something for being too 90′s is like saying that medieval art sucks balls because they didn’t want to use perspective and all their cats look weird. This was the time.

It’s just interesting to me that they decided to attempt to copy this frantic editing style into a cartoon when it’s normally done splicing together live action shots that were done with three+ different cameras. They planned out each cut in a storyboard and drew every frame. It was a lot of work. And it didn’t age well, which is a shame.

And it could have been that because this is a horror show, they decided to experiment. It’s a pretty edge show based on a pretty intense manga. But, it’s...interesting. Can’t exactly cap it, you’ll have to watch it for itself but it’s...interesting. And overall, I honestly feel like I can’t come to any conclusions about the direction that Season Zero editing has taken since I’ve only seen four episodes, so these are just my five cents, don’t quote me on it. I may take back this opinion a few episodes from now.

Y’all this was never told to us until like Season 2. Season Zero told us this in like episode 4. Would have been really nice to have this information a little earlier.

So then we introduce the mummy mechanic of this “game.” Anzu’s plank contraption is tied to these baby mummies. Kind of looks like they’re chocolate mummies you get from the Egyptian museum store. In fact, They might actually be museum gift shop chocolate mummies that Shadi shoplifted up after he killed that fat guy.

Not sure how he set any of this up, especially when he totally botched it with the beams and the basketball and the strangling, but somehow, Shadi got this complicated knot system all ready to go. Weird how Marik was the one on the boat when Shadi has like a degree in knots.

So I said this in the last episode but we get this reoccurring theme in Season Zero where Yugioh is a little boy learning to grow up and be a man, and yet every guy he meets has just a pile of toxic misinformation about how to be a powerful adult. In Shadi’s case, he believes that weakness stems from caring about other people and relying on them for support, hallmarks of mortality. Which is easy for Shadi to say because he’s some 5000 yo undead (I think?) with no friends, unless you count Chair Barney. But Shadi’s pretty sure that attachment to living people will only ultimately hurt you, especially when they’re complete assholes, which most of Yuugi’s friends are. They’re good assholes, though.

It’s a pretty common anime trope and I’m surprised it took us this long to get to the power of friendship. Freakin finally. And there’s nothing wrong with tropes. It’s how stories are made.

Anyways, in case you thought this episode would not address the teachers, they actually did for about 3 seconds.

Neat that this is the most unsafe school in all of Japan.

I am a fan of the combo of blue, purple, green, and very large teeth. I will give Chair Barney that much. Anyway, lets see what game Shadi made.

Oh cool, it’s the game I made to go in my babysitting kit when I was like 11.

Granted, so were playing cards.

Wow everyone is just assaulting each other this episode, damn!

Back on the roof, Yugi calmly wins the game without ever flipping a tile.

Now for some reason I missed the part where he says “two feet” and so I was missing a pair of things and so I listened to this part again and either my sick brain missed it three times (cuz y’all I have had the plague and my recovery has been so sloooow) there were these shapes on the tiles that looked like kidneys and I thought--but it’s not two kidneys, right? and I was like what else is a pair and round and lobby shaped? and then I didn’t really want to go there, and assumed--FEET.

Knowing full well feet are not kidney shaped, but I’m gonna assume he said feet. If he actually said weird monster testicles, you’ll be sure let me know.

And then this happened and it’s pretty legit.

We have never actually addressed the fact that Yuugi forced his friends to like him. Like it’s a pretty effed up origin story that Jounouchi was like like “I feel like very strongly I should be his friend” but doesn’t really know it’s because he got cursed. Kinda figured the show would just breeze by it, but no, here we are, and Yuugi has to face the fact that maybe the only reason he’s not a loner anymore is because he won Jounouchi as a prize for finishing an accessory.

And whether or not Jounouchi would have been his friend no matter what isn’t really what’s being tested, it’s whether or not Yuugi believes that this friendship is actually real, or a curse. Like Jounouchi did try to defend Yuugi before Yuugi finished the puzzle, but does Yuugi know that? He was passing out at the time. It’s a real insecure spot for Yuugi since before Jounouchi he was just a little punching bag playing board games alone in the homeroom. Jounouchi was introduced as someone who was legitimately bullying Yuugi and tossing that puzzle out a window. There’s going to be the underlying fear that Jounouchi would go back.

In the S1 anime, they basically wrote that plot point out of the show or decided that because this was done in Season Zero they don’t need to retread on old territory. Joey, Tristan, and Tea aren’t cursed to be Yugi’s friends, as far as I know.

But this test between the friendship of Yugi and Joey is recreated again in S2 with Marik when they were both tied to an anchor and one had to choose to kill the other or live. But there’s some pretty major differences. This time, instead of Joey being possessed by Marik and being forced to kill his friend, he’s just Jounouchi sans curse.

Although Jounouchi is still somewhat mind controlled as he is just an illusion. He’s just...not as badly mind controlled as the whole Marik thing. This Jounouchi has more motor control and doesn’t seem to have any inner conflict at all. Because again, this isn’t so much Yuugi vs Jounouchi, this is Yuugi vs Yuugi’s fear of being alone again.

That’s a realllllly different takeaway. And honestly, it’s pretty interesting.

Also, instead of Tea with a shipping container over her head, this time Anzu is walking a plank. Really didn’t expect that Shadi would basically turn into Marik but without the cards. And without the underground bunker lifestyle where he kills his own Dad.

The game is kind of hard to show in caps but they have to drop the puzzle in the direction they want the other to walk. Mostly it’s just another reason for Jounouchi to steal Yuugi’s puzzle again and relive the trauma.

Remember that time that Jounouchi tried to get Yuugi to punch him and Yuugi broke out in tears because he didn’t like violence? I mean honestly, out of everyone Yuugi knows. Jounouchi was probably the nicest bully he had. Doesn’t mean Yuugi isn’t incredibly insecure about it.

Instead of fighting back, Yuugi decides to skip his turn. It’s a contrast to the other Joey/Yugi fight because instead of just throwing a fireball in his own face until Joey snaps out of it, Yuugi has decided to rely on trust.

And, much like Grandpa’s Blue Eyed Dragon that would not perform under Kaiba’s reign to kill Yuugi, neither would Jounouchi under Shadi. They even disappear into the aether with the same smoke effect.

And what I think is the most interesting part of this is that the question of “so would they have been friends without the puzzle?” is mostly left open ended.

And if the friendship were solid as a rock, then this whole debate Yuugi has with Shadi wouldn’t even be a debate. Shadi is certain that people will betray you because they can, Yuugi is confident that, even though they do walk you to that ledge, they can change although there is a history of hurt. Shadi was convinced Yuugi couldn’t overcome his lonely past, and Yuugi had to prove that the past can’t hurt him anymore, the past being also his best friend.

Like it’s just something never mentioned in the S1-3, that Yuugi has a lot of issues because all of his friends have been his bully at one point. And like, not to get too PSA, but every friendship has to be looked at by a case by case basis. You can’t generalize and say “everyone who betrays you can change.” But the message here isn’t about keeping any relationship that is toxic, it’s about overcoming the pain of the past.

Also Jounouchi is hella cursed so he won’t be back to his old ways anytime soon.

Kind of hard to tell, but Honda got covered in a layer of white fire extinguisher juice and it’s a look that uhhhh we would never illustrate this way in 2019. Times were more innocent in the 90′s.

Just kidding, they absolutely weren’t, I have no idea who allowed Honda to be drawn this way.

Reminder that Kaiba is just sitting pretty in one of these classrooms, maybe watching Joey’s ass scrape up against the window while Honda completely covered in mysterious white stuff screams bloody mercy. As the teacher teaching this particular class ignores all of this, Kaiba would just be thinking to himself “Aw. that’s fun.”

And so ends this really long but honestly, pretty interesting episode. Season Zero has a lot of rough patches, like I’m probably not going to do every episode of it, but when it connects to what we’re watching its neat to compare and contrast the two. Kind of wish we had more of Yugi facing his past in the current anime but instead it’s Kaiba facing his past. So we...kind of get it? Just with a different character?

Shadi picks up his key and walks away unscathed. Mostly because Yuugi does not currently know how to mind-wipe. Seems that that is mostly a Pharaoh thing and as far as I can tell Yuugi is still just one person with an alternate personality.

Off he goes, that bastard.

Amazing that everyone’s pretty much on good terms with Shadi by the end of S1. Like he’s just kind of a pal that shows up and “accidentally” leads you directly to kill your own Dad when in Season Zero he is...really outwardly evil.

Anyway, that was a hellton of content haha, next week it’s back to Joey dueling a lawyer while Kaiba gets lost in the woods.