#this is not meant harshly it is just a question we get asked fairly often

[ponydoodles]

my apologies, but i sent a request a few years ago and i dont think it ever happened. is there a protocol on what i should do here? or just keep waiting

Hi! I'm sorry if your request was important to you and never got drawn. Many mods have a backlog of old requests we haven't gotten to, or it may have been either a repeat request that we've done similarly before, or something nobody claimed before one of our inbox clearouts. We've said it many times previously on this blog but we don't get to everything since we get so many asks at once, and since we just do this blog for fun rather than fulfilling every request we receive like a job. So there is no "protocol" since we do not draw every single one, but whenever we next open the box you're free to request what you asked for back then if you wish!

- mod softie💗

[queenshelby]

My Friend’s Father (Part Nine)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Age Gap, Smut, Domestic Violence, Angst

Words: 3,064

Please comment and interact...it's what keeps this blog going

***************************

Almost a week had passed since you stayed with Cillian at his unit in Galway and, despite the fact that he was away, things had further developed between you as emotions grew with every day.

He was different to any man you had ever been involved with and, whilst your involvement with each other stemmed from purely sexual lust and hunger, you had evolved from this to something different entirely within a matter of days.

Of course, you knew each other for years and, whilst you had a crush on Cillian for as long as you could remember, you never thought that it would be like this and, for Cillian, this feeling had never been mutual.

Whilst he always considered you to be attractive and very intelligent and kind, he never felt any emotional connection or sexual attraction towards you, at least not until that weekend when you visited Denise, which was also the first time he saw you again after six months had passed.

On that night during which you slept with each other, he let his sexual hunger take over his reasonable thinking mind after he saw you, in his kitchen, making pancakes and you had since, quite openly, talked about it. He saw sleeping with you as a mistake but, ever since that night, he couldn’t get you out of his head.

For you, things weren’t just sexual anymore and you began to feel strongly for Cillian which worried you especially since he was open about the fact that he didn’t know where things were heading with you. The fact that you are his daughter’s friend and much younger than him clearly bothered him and he sometimes admitted to you that he felt strange about building such a strong connection with you. A relationship was not what he wanted but he liked you, a lot.

As such, during the past week, Cillian called you every day after he finished filming and you were talking to him more frequently than you were talking to Denise.

During his breaks, he would also text you and check in on you as you were in the middle of exams. He always remembered when you had a test and asked you how it went and, when you told him that you didn’t feel confident with your results, he reassured you that you probably did well and, even if you didn’t, it wouldn’t matter. According to him, a pass is a pass and you needed to lower your expectations of yourself just a little.

To your surprise, he also remembered appointments you had scheduled and things that bothered you which meant that, unlike other men you had been with, he was actually listening and was interested in what you had to say.

Some nights, you had spent hours on the phone or Skype, joking about things you had encountered that day or talking about books, literature and music, which is something you both enjoyed.

Politics and social issues were other matters you could discuss endlessly and, even when you were of different opinions, you would be able to argue in the most satisfying way. Cillian always treated you as an equal and even opened up to you about his divorce from Denise’s mother recently.

Another thing you learned from Cillian was that Denise was brining along her friend Amalie to Manchester to stay at his apartment and, when you gave him a warning about her and her intentions, he reminded you that he only had eyes for you. In fact, he always showered you with compliments and all of his compliments were genuine and came natural to him, helping you immensely with your self-consciousness.

Unfortunately, whilst you enjoyed how engaging Cillian was with you every day, like a teenager in love, with the constant text messages and calls, your father soon got suspicious and confronted you about.

****

“Dad, I am almost 22, you don’t need to be spying on me” you said somewhat frustrated as he asked you who you were talking to every day.

“You live under my roof and you answer me young lady” he said harshly and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes just as your mother stepped in, trying to calm him down. Your father was much older, approaching sixty and fairly old school in the way he expected you and your sister to behave.

“A friend…I am talking to a friend” you explained and your father asked again, telling you not to lie to him because he would know.

“And this friend of yours, you can’t meet him…you just text and talk? You can’t bring him to our house and introduce him?” your father asked along with a million other questions.

“No, I can’t. he lives in Dublin and I, most certainly, wouldn’t bring him into this…” you said somewhat irritated by the interrogation.

“Dublin, huh? So, you met him when you visited Denise?” he asked and you nodded.

“It’s not her brother, is it? Because I really don’t want you to get involved with him. I don’t like this family and their views” your father said harshly, causing you to chuckle.

“Their views?” you asked somewhat surprised and your father nodded.

“Yes, their views on what’s right and wrong. If I recall correctly, this girl you call your friend was going out with someone of the same gender for a while. God didn’t tell us to do this but her parents obviously didn’t have an issue with it which, apparently is called new age parenting. Everything is pro choice and lets their children decide what is best for them even if they lack experience” your father went on to say and you couldn’t help but shake your head at his absurd commentary but, he continued and you soon learned what had happened between your parents and Denise’s parents many years ago, before which your mother had called Denise’s mother her friend as well.

According to your father, Cillian had voiced his opinion to your father when it was found out that your sister was pregnant following a short affair with a man she had met through university.

Cillian’s ex wife had told your sister that she had options, causing your father to get rather angry with her, which is when Cillian stepped in, supporting what Denise’s mother had said.

She had offered your sister help but your father considered this to be a betrayal and, whilst your mother maintained contact with Denise’s mother for a while, your father refused to get involved with Denise’s family thereafter.

Cillian’s often all so public views angered him and he made this very clear. He didn’t want you to be involved with his children and you couldn’t help but laugh about the irony of it all when you found out about this incident.

“Jesus Dad, that was years ago and not everyone has to have the same views as you” you said before confirming that you weren’t seeing Denise’s brother.

“No, they don’t, but I am just looking out for you and, instead of acting the way you do, throwing yourself at guys with new age ideas, I would much prefer if you met a nice young catholic man” your father explained, causing your mother to fume in anger with him.

“Throwing myself at guys? Listen, I am not sure what slut you think I am but it’s nice to know that you think so little of me” you said before storming upstairs and into your room.

Having to deal with this crap bothered you and you knew that, when this semester came to an end, you could be moving out now that you saved enough money for a bond and rent.

*****

As the evening went on, you spent all of your time in your room, reading a book until, finally, at around 9 o’clock you saw a notification on Skype.

‘Hey Beautiful’ Cillian said as you picked up and popped in your headphones.

Cillian apologised for calling through so late and informed you that he was finally able to speak to Laura, the woman he was seeing before you.

He knew that you wanted to know about it and he had no problem telling you what you needed to hear while telling you that you had absolutely nothing to worry about.

It was Laura’s first day back on set after a week-long break and Cillian told you that she wasn’t exactly impressed when he stood her down.

‘She probably likes you…I can understand that’ you said calmly but Cillian told you that he was pretty clear with her about what this was between them.

‘Well, in retrospect, I shouldn’t have gotten involved with her’ he went on and you were quite happy to change the topic by this point and told him that you were aching for him.

‘Well, I am not sure that I can help you with that’ Cillian chuckled.

‘We could have Skype sex I suppose’ you giggled.

‘Skype Sex?’ Cillian laughed before telling you that he didn’t think that this would be a good idea since you were at home with your parents and you had previously complained about the thin walls of the house.

‘Oh Jesus Cillian, my father already thinks I am a slut, so I personally don’t care if anyone hears me getting myself off. I’ve got my earphones in and am the only one who can hear you and my door is locked’ you chuckled.

‘Your father thinks that you are a slut? Do you want to talk about that?’ Cillian asked concerned but you shook your head.

‘I rather not. You met him and know what he is like’ you explained.

‘I do. He takes God very seriously’ Cillian said before continuing on. ‘But, if you have problems at home you need to tell me please. You can stay at my apartment. I can get my house keeper to meet you there with the key’ he offered.

‘You said you were going to stay out of stuff between me and my parents just as I would stay out of matters between you and Denise’ you then said, reminding him on the conversation about your respective roles which you had three days ago.

‘Yes I did, but I can’t if I have to worry about you’ Cillian said firmly.

‘There is no need to worry Cillian. I promise’ you reassured him. ‘Well, actually, I need you to worry about my sexual needs right now’ you then went on to say with sly grin.

‘Through Skype?’ Cillian asked again somewhat concerned.

‘Yes’ you said with a cheeky smile as you settled more into your bed with your laptop.

‘Alright then, show me what you are wearing” Cillian said as he cut straight to the point.

‘Can you see?’ you asked as you adjusted the cam and showed Cillian your dark blue lingerie.

‘Very nice…but…I think you would look even better if you were naked, don’t you think?’ Cillian said somewhat nervously and you nodded in agreement.

‘Well, I suppose I should strip for you and you should strip for me’ you giggled as you seductively took off your bra slowly, showing Cillian your perky breasts through the camera.

You heard him inhale sharply as he watched you and took his t-shirt off at the same time, leaving him in nothing but his CK briefs.

Without words you then scooted back on the bed and removed your undies, allowing him to watch before you sat down on the bed, spread eagle and naked, giving him a good view of your mound.

‘Jesus Y/N, you are so fucking beautiful and sexy…touch yourself for me, nice and slow’ Cillian breathed out and you let his soothing voice wash over you, knowing what he was trying to do and happily helping him succeed.

‘Like this?’ you moaned as you began to run circles over your clit with your fingers.

‘Yes, just like that babe’ Cillian groaned as he shuffled down his briefs and you were finally getting a good look of his hard cock.

‘Oh god, I want to stroke your cock so badly’ you moaned as you seductively opened your pussy lips with your fingers, opening yourself up before reaching for the black vibrator you kept in your bedside table.

‘Well, someone's particularly horny tonight’ Cillian chuckled as he watched you play with your pussy, and you could hear the smirk in his voice.

You mumbled a small "mhm," and he laughed.

‘Good, that's exactly how I like you, so naughty and needy’ Cillian said as he slowly began to stroke his hard member.

You barely registered his words enough to answer with another "mhm," but your subconscious managed it. Your weak answer elicited another delicious chuckle from the other end of the line.

"Why don't you show me how this little toy of yours works?” Cillian then asked as he watched you eagerly.

“I was just waiting for you to ask” you giggled as you began to run your fingers along your stomach and back up to your chest, leaving a trail of goosebumps their wake before reaching for the vibrator and turning it on.

“Put into your sweet pussy babe, let me see it” Cillian groaned and you moan in response, barely processing his words but still understanding enough to answer and do what he asked.

"I bet your pussy is already dripping” he said as you slid the vibrator into you slowly. He was right, you could feel your wetness pooling.

“I am so fucking wet and I wish it would be your cock inside me” you moaned as you began to stroke the toy in and out of you.

Cillian was groaning on the other side, his eyes full of lust and desire for you and you let out a quiet moan as you watched him with the same desire and hunger while you were pleasuring yourself.

“Good girl, keep going…” Cillian tells you and you moan again hearing it.

“Tell me how much you are aching for my cock” he then said you moaned again.

“I want your cock so badly, fuck…I want your cum inside me, dripping out of my wet little pussy” you moaned, eliciting a groan from Cillian as he began to stroke his cock harder and faster.

“Such a naughty needy girl, aren’t you? I can’t wait to be inside you again and make you cum over and over again” Cillian said with a laboured breath and you are barely listening at this point.

“I want you to cum for me and show me this dripping pussy when you do…I fucking love hearing your moans, so fucking sexy…common babe….let go” Cillian said, knowing that you were close and your orgasm rolled over you as soon as the word 'cum' left his lips, and although your sensitive clit was screaming at your hand to stop, you couldn't.

‘Oh god fuck, yes…’ you moaned as you came hard and fast.

“That’s it babe, don’t stop” he instructed as your moans continuously spilled from your mouth, and you were not even sure what you were saying or if you were forming words at all. The only thing in your head is a deliciously heavy fog and Cillian’s voice guiding you to do what he wanted.

“Don’t stop, keep fucking your sweet little pussy babe” Cillian ordered as he knew you weren’t done and, just as he did, you let out a high-pitched moan, bordering on a scream, as an even stronger orgasm washed over your body.

‘Cum for me babe…I want to see all this cum’ you moaned in return, focusing on the delicious image in front of you as Cillian was stroking his cock and, just when you finally come back down you heard Cillian groan loudly.

“Fuck” he groaned as he stroked his cock hard and fast you watched rope after rope of cum spurt onto his stomach.

‘Oh god, what a waste, I want to lick your cum off your skin so badly” you breathed out as Cillian came down from his high slowly and used a tissue to clean himself up.

‘Stop saying those things or you have to stay on the line for another twenty minutes at least’ Cillian chuckled as he could feel his manhood stir again.

‘Well, I think you shouldn’t cum again until you come to visit me in Galway the weekend after next…I want you to save it all for me’ you said, causing Cillian to cock an eyebrow as he pulled his briefs back up.

‘Fat chance babe’ he chuckled, knowing that going without an orgasm for nine days would be rather difficult for him.

Eventually, after a lot of begging, he agreed to try but he wouldn’t be able to make you any promises to this effect.

***

The following day, you went to work and then university thereafter but, when you eventually returned home, your father was in a worse mood than ever before.

‘Can you explain this to me?’ he asked angrily as soon as you walked through the door and you couldn’t help but gulp when he pointed to a white box which he had placed on the living room table.

‘You went through my personal belongings’ you huffed out as the box contained some lingerie and intimate items, including toys, that you were hiding in the bottom of your dresser.

‘Again Y/N, this is my house, my rules and I don’t want my daughter to own filth like this’ he said, after having heard small pieces of your conversation with Cillian on Skype the evening before.

It was obvious to you that your father was appalled and you were outraged that he had been snooping through your room and, as you would later learn, had even tried to access your computer.

‘I can’t fucking believe you dad. These are my personal belongings and you have no right to go through them’ you huffed out and, just as you did, you could feel a sharp strike across your face.

‘Get this shit out of my house and talk to me with some respect’ he said harshly, leaving you speechless and in tears as he walked away, leaving your cheek burning red.

   Tag List:

@lilymurphy03@deefigs @theflamecrystal @desperate-and-broken @weepingstudentfishhorse @livinginfantaxy @rosey1981 @atomicsoulcollecto @peakyboyslover @nerdy4itall@elenavampire21 @hanster1998@mariapaiva13 @fairypitou @harry-is-your-sunflower @zozeebo @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa @littlewierdalien @sad-huffle-nerd @theflamecrystal @peakymalfoyscullymulder @themissthang@0ghostwriter0 @stylescanbeatmyback @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni @momoneymolife @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03 @mcntsee@cloudofdisney@missymurphy1985 @peakymalfoyscullymulder @otterly-fey @janelongxox @uchihacumdump @basiclassy @being-worthy @chaotic-bean-of-smolness @margoo0 @chocolatehalo @vhscillian @ysmmsy @littlewierdalien @crazymar15  @stickyknightflowerbailiff @im-constantly-fangirling @goldensunflowe-r  @tellingyouastory  @captivatedbycillianmurphy​  @namelesslosers​  @littlewhiterose​  @ttzamara​  @ttzamara @cilleveryone  ​

@peaky-cillian​

@severewobblerlightdragon​  @ysmmsy​

[amazinglyegg]

Random headcanons for Paladin Danse because I love him (based on these prompts by @/silentshayshores-2 !)

How do they feel about people shorter / taller than them?

Danse is used to being taller than basically anyone else due to being in power armour 24/7. He's also just very tall (I used to hc him as short but it seems like the general fandom consensus is Tall Danse) so he doesn't mind people shorter than him. Taller than him, however? Catch his fight-or-flight reflex kick in the second he realizes that. He has been trianed to fight people / creatures taller than him, so he's not scared or amything, but it's rare anything other than a supermutant or a deathclaw is taller than him. He'll warm up eventually.

Their sexuality?

Canonically he's multisexual and I agree with that. Demisexual bisexual with no real preference

Preferred weather?

Very sunny days, little to no clouds in the sky. He likes being able to see clearly and the heat never bothered him too much, especially not in compared to rain or snow.

What's their sleeping schedule?

In theory, 11pm to 5am. In reality? Probably more like 2am to 5am, the rest of the hours spent tinkering, reading, or just laying there in the dark staring at the ceiling. Out in the field he takes turns with whoever he's travelling with. Has fallen asleep in his power armour in the past. Scribe Haylen and knight Rhys have a silent agreement not to wake him up when he does

How's their cooking?

He knows cooking well on a survival level. Purifying water, scavenging, making sure food is safe to eat. He can make meals out of basically anything found in the wasteland, from mushrooms to bloatfly to questionable canned meat. He learned this even before he was taught in the Brotherhood, it was the only way he survived on his own for so long before moving to Rivet City. Cooking for taste? Not so much. He IS a fast learner, but he'll always put safety and preserving rations over taste factor, even when you have enough food to spare

What's their sleeping position?

When he's in a sleeping bag or sleeping around others: on his side, legs partially drawn and arm resting under his head/pillow. When he's alone he will fall asleep on his stomach, starfish spread out, probably drooling. Doesn't let anyone see him sleep like that, though.

Who do they go for comfort?

Cutler used to be his number one, and the person he confided most in. Since then, while he definitely has some friends, he's not close enough with anyone to talk to them. Even if he was, he feels as if he needs to be perfect in front of everyone to be seen as a good leader, meaning he'll rarely if ever open up. He's talked to Haylen a few times, but always apologizes after.

Something small that they enjoy?

Standing at the edge of the Prydwen, watching the sun rise. He always wakes up in time for it, and it reminds him of how far he's come, and how lucky he is to be in the Brotherhood

How do they feel about physical contact by others?

He's built high walls and is very closed off in general, making most close interactions with others somewhat awkward. Even things such as pats on the back or bumping into others on the hallways stopped being common since he was ranked to Paladin. Did I mention that he's been a Paladin for ten years? Danse is too touch-starved to know what to do, and ends up silently pushing others away with his awkwardness around the whole thing. He refuses to let himself lean into most gentle touches out of fear of letting his guard down and being seen as weak (see: who do they go for comfort) but if you manage to break down those walls and give him a real, warm hug? Expect him to burst into tears immediately

What is enough to bring them to tears?

See: above. Also, the crushing guilt of feeling as though he failed his team. He'd never dare cry in front of others but in the rare times he's sure he's alone and won't be disturbed he'll let it out, blaming himself and probably getting drunk. Other than that, he has a soft spot for orphans and got teary-eyed reuniting Billy with his parents during the Kid in a Fridge quest

Biggest pet peeve?

Rude people, especially people who talk over him during a conversation. He expects to be listened to when giving orders, so somebody shutting him up by talking over him or blatantly ignoring him in a conversation is a big sign of disrespect.

How well do they take care of themselves?

He never got the chance to have good hygiene until he got to the Brotherhood, meaning while he's completely fine with getting dirty / being unable to get clean / etc., he deeply appreciates personal hygiene when available. Showering, brushing, flossing, sometimes even moisturizing and going all-out. When it comes to mental health or self-care? Not so much. He has a habit of putting other peoples needs above his own, and especially after blind betrayal he becomes a little bit too self-destructive for his own good. He'll easily exhaust himself attempting to prove his own worth via working for hours on end, ignoring sleep, food, and even water until someone steps in and stops him

What's something they like that may be surprising to others?

He really likes children! The easygoing ones are always nice to be around and the closed off / mean ones are a challenge to win their trust. He has a soft spot for most children (especially squires) and is often caught showing them his armour / weapons, or even giving them piggy back rides when he thinks nobody is looking (we all see you, Danse)

Do they consider others family?

The closest thing he's ever had to a family is the Brotherhood, but that's mainly formality rather than actual family. He's been through so much with Recon Team Gladius that he might as well consider them family, but deep down he truly doesn't know what family means. He has nothing to base it off of, and thus he really doesn't consider anyone family.

Any bad habits that they have?

He smokes, but only rarely, and never as a social act. It keeps his hands busy and his mind quiet when he starts to overthink. He also has a habit of giving people the silent treatment when he's mad at them. He'll still do any work he has to do with them, but his conversations will be even more formal (and awkward) than before, and at any slight mention of their arguement he will find an excuse to leave. Give him enough time and he'll muster up the courage to apologize, but it's tiring to wait until then

What's their idea of a perfect vacation?

Danse generally doesn't like regular vacations, since he doesn't like being away from work for that long. Taking the Saturday off to go fishing or something is probably the closest he'll get to a proper vacation, and the most enjoyable for him

Do they get lost easily? Will they ask for directions if they are?

Danse's sense of direction is... alright. Not notably bad, but not amazing. He is good at not acting like he's lost, however. He'll keep calm and collected the entire time and act like he totally meant to take that three day detour in the wrong direction, totally. He will ask civilians for directions when he gets lost, but judges their character harshly before deciding whether he trusts their word.

How well do they accept advice?

Danse doesn't like being criticized, especially by people he's not close to. He's big on standing by all his orders, so comments on his choices make him think the person commenting is questioning his leadership. When it comes to friends or close teammates, he ends up either taking criticism way too harshly, or doing what he does with most comments and ignores it. He'd much rather learn from his mistakes than be called out

How much do they swear?

He isn't particularly against swearing, but it depends on the circumstances. He'll swear often in general (usually terms like "(god)damnit" or "what the hell") but very rarely swears while directing at a person, either talking to them or about them. He'll only curse someone out if he's really angry. He's very lenient on letting others swear

Is there anything they're bad at?

Other than holding a casual conversation? He's fairly bad at anything that takes fine motor skills. He's tried picking up hobbies like drawing or knitting, but he doesn't like working on such a small scale. Also has absolutely horrible handwriting, mostly due to not learning how to read until he was at least a teenager, but that doesn't help his case

What's their morning schedule?

He has a good internal clock that wakes him up early every morning. If he's on the Prydwen he'll exercise, shower, brush his teeth, shave, whatever, and go eat breakfast. If he's on a mission he'll usually skip exercising and clean himself as best as he can and check over his supplies, power armour, and their plan for the day. He likes having the mornings to himself

Any past injuries?

He has plenty of injuries and scars across his entire body. Most notably his eyebrow scar was from a fight with raiders alongside Cutler, several months before they joined the Brotherhood. Cutler was the one who gave him stitches. He has a gunshot wound in his shoulder, deep scars on his thigh from a Yao Guai and permanently messed up knuckles from punching things (people, or inanimate objects). His injuries become fewer and farther between the more he uses his power armour, but that doesn't protect him from everything.

[qqueenofhades]

Hi, I’ve been tasked with researching Richard Plantagenet for a paper and thus far found extremely negative accounts of the king, his religious bigotry being a reoccurring theme (his treatment of Jewish dignitaries attending his coronation and his reasoning to join the third crusade etc)

I stumbled across your wonderful tag for Richard at the weekend and wondered if you wouldn’t mind sharing your informed opinion of Richard and his views on religions ? Your writing seems very well balanced regarding his attributes and flaws. Thanks :)

Oof. Okay. So, a short and simple question, then?

Quick note: when I was first reading your ask and saw "Richard Plantagenet," I briefly assumed that you meant Richard Plantagenet, father of Edward IV, or perhaps Richard III, both from the Wars of the Roses in the fifteenth century, before seeing from context that you meant Richard I. While "Plantagenet" was first used as an informal appellation by Richard I's grandfather, Geoffrey of Anjou, it wasn't until several centuries later that the English royal house started to use it consistently as a surname. So it's not something that Richard I would have been really called or known by, even if historians tend to use it as a convenient labeling conceit. (See: the one thousand popular histories on "The Plantagenets" that have been published recently.)

As for Richard I, he is obviously an extremely complex and controversial figure for many reasons, though one of the first things that you have to understand is that he has been mythologized and reinvented and reinterpreted down the centuries for many reasons, especially his crusade participation and involvement in the Robin Hood legends. When you're researching about Richard, you're often reading reactions/interpretations of that material more than anything specifically rooted in the primary sources. And while I am glad that you asked me about this and want to encourage you to do so, I will gently enquire to start off: when you say "research," what kind of materials are you looking at, exactly? Are these actual published books/papers/academic material, or unsourced stuff on the internet written from various amateur/ideological perspectives and by people who have particular agendas for depicting Richard as the best (or as is more often the case, worst) ever? Because history, to nobody's surprise, is complicated. Richard did good things and he also did quite bad things, and it's difficult to reduce him to one or the other.

Briefly (ha): I'll say just that if a student handed me a paper stating that Richard was a religious bigot because a) there were anti-Jewish riots during his coronation and b) he signed up for the Third Crusade, I would seriously question it. Medieval violence against the Jews was an unfortunately endemic part of crusade preparations, and all we know about Richard's own reaction is that he fined the perpetrators harshly (repeated after a similar March 1190 incident in York) and ordered for them to be punished. Therefore, while there famously was significant anti-Semitic violence at his coronation, Richard himself was not the one who instigated it, and he ordered for the Londoners who did take part in it to be punished for breaking the king's peace.

This, however, also doesn't mean that Richard was a great person or that he was personally religiously tolerant. We don't know that and we often can't know that, whether for him or anyone else. This is the difficulty of inferring private thoughts or beliefs from formal records. This is why historians, at least good historians, mostly refrain from speculating on how a premodern private individual actually thought or felt or identified. We do know that Richard likewise also made a law in 1194 to protect the Jews residing in his domains, known as Capitula Judaeis. This followed in the realpolitik tradition of Pope Calixtus II, who had issued Sicut Judaeis in c. 1120 ordering European Christians not to harass Jews or forcibly convert them. This doesn't mean that either Calixtus or Richard thought Jews were great, but they did choose a different and more pragmatic/economic way of dealing with them than their peers. This does not prove "religious bigotry" and would need a lot more attention as an analytical concept.

As for saying that the crusades were motivated sheerly by medieval religious bigotry, I'm gonna have to say, hmm, no. Speaking as someone with a PhD in medieval history who specialised in crusade studies, there is an enormous literature around the question of why the crusades happened and why they continue to hold such troubling attraction as a pattern of behavior for the modern world. Yes, Richard went on crusade (as did the entire Western Latin world, pretty much, since 1187 and the fall of Jerusalem was the twelfth century's 9/11). But there also exists material around him that doesn't exist around any other crusade leader, including his extensive diplomatic relations with the Muslims, their personal admiration for him, his friendship with Saladin and Saladin's brother Saif al-Din, the fact that Arabic and Islamic sources can be more complimentary about Richard than the Christian records of his supposed allies, and so forth. I think Frederick II of Sicily, also famous for his friendly relationships with Muslims, is the only other crusade leader who has this kind of material. So however he did act on crusade, and for whatever reasons he went, Richard likewise chose the pragmatic path in his interactions with Muslims, or at least the Muslim military elite, than just considering them all as religious barbarians unworthy of his time or attention.

The question of how the crusades functioned as a pattern of expected behavior for the European Christian male aristocrat, sometimes entirely divorced from any notion of his private religious beliefs, is much longer and technical than we can possibly get into. (As again, I am roughly summarising a vast and contentious field of academic work for you here, so... yes.) Saying that the crusades happened only because medieval people were all religious zealots is a wild oversimplification of the type that my colleague @oldshrewsburyian and I have to deal with in our classrooms, and likewise obscures the dangerous ways in which the modern world is, in some ways, more devoted to replicating this pattern than ever. It puts it beyond the remit of analysis and into the foggy "Dark Ages hurr durr bad" stereotype that drives me batty.

Weighted against this is the fact that Richard obviously killed many Muslims while on crusade, and that this was motivated by religious and ideological convictions that were fairly standard for his day but less admirable in ours. The question of how that violence has been glorified by the alt-right people who think there was nothing wrong with it at all and he should have done more must also be taken into account. Richard's rise to prominence as a quintessentially English chivalrous hero in the nineteenth century, right when Britain was building its empire and needed to present the crusades as humane and civilizing missions abroad rather than violent and generally failed attempts at forced conversion and conquest, also problematized this. As noted, Richard was many things, but... not that, and when the crusades fell out of fashion again in the twentieth century, he was accordingly drastically villainized. Neither the superhero or the supervillain images of him are accurate, even if they're cheap and easy.

The English nationalists have a complicated relationship with Richard: he represents the ideal they aspire to, aesthetically speaking, and the kind of anti-immigrant sentiment they like to put in his mouth, which is far more than the historical Richard actually displayed toward his Muslim counterparts. (At least, again, so far as we can know anything about his private beliefs, but this is what we can infer from his actions in regard to Saladin, who he deeply respected, and Saladin's brother.) But he was also thoroughly a French knight raised and trained in the twelfth-century martial tradition, his concern for England was only as a minor part of the sprawling 'Angevin empire' he inherited from his father Henry II (which is heresy for the Brexit types who think England should always be the center of the world), and his likely inability to speak English became painted as a huge character flaw. (Notwithstanding that after the Norman Conquest in 1066, England did not have a king who spoke English natively until Henry IV in 1399, but somehow all those others don't get blamed as much as Richard.)

Anyway. I feel as if it's best to stop here. Hopefully this points you toward the complexity of the subject and gives you some guidelines in doing your own research from here. :)

[theymetinargentina]

Sunflower / Harry Styles AU

Authors Note: Hello! This is an AU I thought of when I took a flight this past winter. I really hope y’all enjoy. As always comments and requests are always appreciated, they really help with motivation:) Feel free to interact in any way<3

Warnings- SMUT, daddy kink, choking, spanking (all that jazz)

Word Count- 2.8k 

Enjoy<3 

READ MY OTHER WORK HERE!

**************************************************

“Alright passengers, I’m your flight attendant for today’s flight, my name is Jane and upfront our pilots are Harry and John, they’ll be making sure we arrive safely to our planned desination.” you smiled into the speaker, “We want to thank you for flying with us and hope you enjoy your flight, any concerns or questions feel free to flag me down and I will ensure all your needs are meet.” You spoke all this is your typical stewardess voice, a voice that took months to perfect and has slowly crept into your daily speaking habits.

Today’s flight was a short one, only about an hour and a half. While you normally preferred longer flights, as it meant you got to travel farther, today you were grateful for the time it meant you would get to spend with your boyfriend, the man who was in charge of making sure this plane arrived safely at its destination. You and Harry had been together for nearly four years, working together since the very beginning of your relationship, when it was barely that. Of course, you never intended to start a romance with one of your pilots, it sort of happened.

After you relaized you both would have to work together, panic settled in. Of course you really liked him, you spent nearly everyday with him since that first night. He couldn’t be further form bothered, only uttering, “Who cares….maybe we should tell them so they can see I got the one everyone drools over.” I knew it wouldn’t be that easy. I would be shamed for sleeping with one of the pilots, rumors would ensue over how you got such a sought after job.

However, one panic attack and a trip to HR later, everything felt at ease. Your job literally could not care less; and being with Harry, relaxed you. Who cares if people gossiped? It was no ones business. They could stare and talk all they wanted. They wouldn’t get the satisfaction of seeing you upset by it.

Pushing through your anxiety was worth it, for Harry anything really was.

********** 4 years earlier **********

“I’ll get another drink please.”

“On it,” the very patient bartender responded, you had been moping around the bar for nearly two hours. You came here often enough to know which bartenders were working what shift. This is why you choose to come at this specific time. Noah, a slightly older man, was your favorite. He never tried to pry things out of you. Just let you sit at the bar with a solemn look on your face. Occasionally listening when you felt you needed to rant. A presence next to you snapped you out of your daze. The bar was fairly empty but the slightly musky air was still floating over our heads.

“Can you make that two, please? Go ahead and put it on m’ tab.” I slowly turned ready to dismiss whoever was interrupting my form of self-care. It was the same tall, lean man who had been shooting glances my way all night. Getting fairly close to me when he came to retrieve drinks for his group. “I’m Harry, and you are….?” he said cheekily

“Jane,” I deadpanned, “That is very kind but I am more than cap-” I stopped when I fully looked at him and saw how beautiful he was. His eyes were a blend of forest greens, almost overshadowed by how dilated his pupils were. His pink, full lips were pulled into a  smirk, noticing I was staring.

“Baby, ‘m sure you’re more than capable,” he slyly said with a grin,  Who was this man? And to have the nerve to tease me after only just meeting.

“Look, I was just sitting here enjoying a drink and I really don’t need anyone to pay for it.”

“I’m just tryna warm you up, take it...please?”

“Warm me up for what? You seem so sure of yourself, when all youve done is give me your name and pay for a drink.” I retorted.

He grinned again and moved closer, “I see that look in your eye, I know you want this darlin’,” he slowly inched his hand up my arm, pausing when he got to my collarbone, waiting for me to say no. He carefully encased his hand around my neck, looking into my eyes to silently ask if this was okay, all I could answer with was a nod. He put his mouth to my ear and hotly whispered, “Come home with me.” The ache between my thighs only got more intense. “Your friends wouldn’t like that,” I whispered lowly.

“Fuck them,” he responded, his voice had significantly dropped and he sounded so sure. For some reason, I trusted him and felt myself slowly falling into his arms, both figuratively and metaphorically. I wrapped my significantly smaller hand around his wrist that was still holding my neck, “Take me then.” I whispered.

Our drinks long forgotten, he dragged me through the exit. When we stopped in front of a very expensive car I was surprised to think he would drive. “Wait,” I gasped, “you can’t drive, you were drinking.” I couldn’t hide the slight disappointment in my tone. He only chuckled, “I was the designated driver for tonight, had bloody virgin drinks all night.” He smiled. With that, we got into the car. Judging by his determined driving I assumed we would end up at his place. After a car ride filled with only the sound of our heavy breaths and quiet music, the air thick with tension, he parked. The house was fairly large for what I would assume was only one-man occupying it. Nonetheless, I followed him to the front door where he stopped and turned to me.

“I know I was pretty straight forward back there, but I’ll completely understand if you decide to change your mind.” Those words got me wetter than I already had been. I understood what he was saying though, and felt gratitude at his attempt to make me comfortable. However, I couldn’t help but let my eyes flicker down to the bulge in his trousers. I stepped up to him and rested my hands just below his belly button, “I want this,” I seductively whispered, “Tell me you want me.” He let out an animalistic growl and wove his hands around my backside, resting them on my hips.

“I want you so, so bad baby. ‘M about to come in my fuckin’ trousers. Got me so hard, you minx.” With that settled I pushed him towards the door hoping hed get the hint to open it and lead us inside.

Once inside the already thick tension erupted inside us. He pushed me up against the closed door and crashed his lips on mine. It was rough and hot as he poked his tongue at my sealed lips, I let him in, and our mouths explored each other. He groaned and motioned with his hands on my ass to jump. I happily leaped into his arms and continued our heated kissing. I felt him slowly begin walking upstairs, careful not to drop me. We broke apart to breathe, but I immediately began trail kisses along his jaw. When I reached a particularly sensitive point below his jaw, he moaned. Setting me gently on the floor he lifted the end of my dress, pulling it off me in one swift motion. His eyes widened at the sight beneath it.

“Completely bare, you filthy fuckin’ whore,” He said as he cupped my heat, smirking at the whimper I let out.

“Oh yeah? I bet you fuckin’ love it.” I replied breathlessly.

“I fuckin’ do. Daddy loves filthy whores .” His eyes had gotten darker and his voice had a dominating edge to it. I knew he wouldn’t go easy on me. And I was thankful. I decided if he wanted to be rough, so could I. He threw his head back and groaned when I dropped to my knees in front of him, “You look so damn beautiful on your knees.” He gripped my chin, dragging his thumb across my cheek and pulling my bottom lip down.

I whimpered at the throbbing between my legs, hoping to get some type of relief. His bulge had only gotten larger. I held lightly onto his thighs and gave rough kisses to his covered length.

He was stubbornly refusing to moan, I could hear his breath increase in an attempt to mask them. When I pulled both his trousers and boxers down; his thick, veiny length sprung up. The tip was bright red and leaked pre-cum.

I admittedly enveloped him in my mouth, his knees almost buckling at the sudden touch.

“Fuck baby…..shit, right there…...suck daddy’s cock.” He grasped my hair harshly, guiding my movements as I bobbed up and down his cock. When I hallowed my cheeks he gave an involuntary buck, his tip hitting the back of my throat causing me to gag. I pulled away quickly, gasping for breath with a line of spit connecting his swollen tip to my lips. I chuckled and continued to move my hand up and down, flicking my wrist slightly when I reached the head.

“You like that daddy,” I smiled at him. He finally gave me another beautiful moan that sent waves of pleasure to my throbbing core. “Mmmm,” was all he managed to respond before pulling me up to kiss me sternly.

“As much as I love that sweet mouth of yours, I wanna come inside you.”

He pushed me backward until my knees hit the bed. He climbed on top of me letting his hands roam toward my throbbing pussy, “please,” I whimpered; surprising me too. He chuckled sliding his hand over my slit. “Oh, fuck.” Gathering my wetness on the tip of his finger he slowly pushed one in.

I threw my head back and let out a moan. “All this for me, huh? Tell me who got you this wet?”

I could feel him threatening to pull his finger out, “Tell me who, and I’ll fuck you with my cock, the one you sucked so well.” He crashed his lips back on mine while hastily unbuttoning his dress shirt. “You want that? To have me fuck that tight cunt so hard you can’t walk tomorrow?”

“Please…...daddy.” My whimper nearly killed him, the slow drawl out of me calling him daddy, I could tell he was trying to tame himself for my sake. But I wanted him to completely ruin me.

“Don’t be patient, ruin me…..please?” I juted out my bottom lip, partly to be cute and because I knew he would imagine me when I was on my knees for him.

I pulled at his belt buckle, he ripped my hands away and stood up. At first I thought he had changed his mind or something was wrong but he had a devilish grin on his face and lowly spoke in his sex-hazed raspy voice, “Get on your hands and knees.”

For some reason I responded to his voice immediately, rolling over so I was propped up by my hands, spreading my legs, hissing at the cool air hitting my slick core. My ass was facing toward him so I could only hear him remove his belt and step out of his trousers.

I jumped slightly when I felt him run the cool leather over my ass, “Look at you, spreading your ass for a stranger….. Such a fucking whore.”

I whimpered slightly and pushed my hips back slightly, hoping he would understand what I wanted. “You want me to spank you?” he snickered, “you keep surprising me Jane.”

Hearing him say my name drew a moan out of me, only nodding in retort to his question.

The slight sting that came was minimal in comparison to th pleasure I felt at his belt hitting my ass roughly. He brought it down again, and again, and again; each time making me moan louder than the last time.

When he dropped the belt I sighed in relief, I would finally get some relief from the ache that was ever increasing between my legs.

“Are you on the pill or should I-?”

I cut him off, “I’m on the pill, you can go bare.” I didn’t want the barrier of plastic between us, I wanted to feel every vein and ridge I had felt in my mouth.

With my confirmation he pushed in harshly, both of us moaning in unison, “Oh fuck…” I breathed. He set a rough pace, gripping onto my hips and pounding into me from behind.

“Shit…..you’re tighter than I thought baby, “ he groaned. The air was filled with sex and sweat. The only sound being our repeated mantras, oh fuck, right there, or don’t stop, and the borderline pornographic noise of skin slapping together. Harry reached his hand in front of me began rubbing fast circles on my clit. I cried out and knew from the sudden stimulation I was gonna cum sooner than I though, “I...I’m gonna cum, Harry.” I managed to get out.

“Cum for me baby, show me what a good girl you are for daddy, how much you love his cock.” With that I clench around his length that was buried to the hilt in me, all but collapsing from the overwhelming pleasure. I could feel Harry twitch inside of me and felt thick ropes of his cum coat my walls. He pushed himself balls deep, swirling his hips while riding out his oragasm. “Ohhhh, fuck baby….” he groaned.

I gathered enough strength to put my hand underneath us and tug on his balls lightly. He jolted and growled in my ear.

“You felt so good in me,” I whispered, in between our heavy breathing.

He laughed and pulled out, hissing lightly at the lack of warmth around his cock.

“It was all you darlin’.” I unvoluntarily clenched my thighs at the pet name. We both laid on our backs and stared at the wall.

“You can spend the night if you’d like,” he looked over at me with a glint in his eyes. I couldn’t say no, even if I normally refused to even spend longer than 5 minutes after with a hook-up.

“Sure,” I smiled.

********* Present Day **********

“Once the seatbelt light has turned off, you can go ahead and gather your things, exiting the aircraft in a effective manner, on behalf of all of staff we would once again like to thank you for flying with us today and hope you had a lovely flight.”

Once everyone was off the plane I unlocked the cabin door and struted inside, silently punching myself for choosing to wear heals. I mean, they made my legs look great and not to mention how fucking good my ass looked in this skirt, I knew Harry was itching to take it all off me.

“How was your morning Jane?” John asked sweetly. John was one of our newer pilots,doing his first few years under the care of Harry, a man with years behind his belt. He was a sweetheart, always kind-too kind if you asked Harry- and he respected everyone he worked with, no matter their own job.

“Not too bad, fairly calm flight. How were yours?” I asked them both.

“Good, John was in the lead for most of it. Fast learner this one.” Harry grinned, knowing how embarrassed John was with compliments. Sure enough when I looked at him, his cheeks were flushed pink.

“That’s very kind, but it’s all your teaching,” He replied, “I’m off, gotta go get some rest. I hope you both have a wonderful day.” He shook Harry’s hand and gave me peck on the cheek.

My eyes followed him out the door and I turned to Harry once he was out of sight, met with an unimpressed look.

“Oh relax, he always gives me a kiss on the cheek.” I said with a roll of my eyes.

“I’m just saying,” he stood and started gathering his belongings, “he tries anything else and I’m not holding back.” Of course John would never try anything, for one he was married, and he respected both Harry and I too much to ever do anything like that. It was simply a joke, stemming from the fact that a pilot that flew with Harry had commented about me, not being aware I was tied to Harry.

“I’m yours, you know that,” I grabbed onto the front of his suit and peered into his eyes.

“Yeah, you’re all mine, too look at, kiss, and grab,” he smirked, cupping my ass harshly at. I squealed and tried to push him away.

“People will see,” I laughed lightly, freeing myself of his grasp.

“Let them, they’ll finally understand not to talk about you,” he breathed, “Especially when they see me and think, ‘that bloke will fuckin’ kill me for disresectin’ his girl’” he beamed at me, clearly proud with the scenario he made in his head.

“You are such a dork.” We both grabbed our bags and began walking out the plane and into the airport.

“Yeah, but you love me,” he smiled with that goofy grin that always makes me laugh. I merely shook my head in response and thought, yeah I really did.

*****************************************

LMK WHAT YOU THINK!!! :) 

[adenei]

Day 16: January Word Challenge

a/n: Another Jily fic!! 😁

**********************

Together

Lily’s hand brushed James’ as they walked down the lane where James lived. A shiver ran up her spine at the light contact and left her wanting more. Something had changed since the end of term and the first month of summer holidays. 

Throughout the month of July they exchanged regular letters, so often that the first thing Lily would do was check the window for his owl every morning. It was almost as though Lily had become dependent on the routine. Her stomach would flip flop with excitement when she heard the familiar tap on the window from his tawny brown owl at her window, and on the days there was no letter, her heart would sink into her stomach in disappointment.

For some reason she still didn’t understand what was happening. She told herself she wouldn’t fall for his witty charm, and his damning good looks. The way his black hair had that perpetual bedhead look, and his brown eyes always looked as though he could see right through her. Not to mention how fit he was from Quidditch training. And let’s not forget the mischievous grin he’d been flashing at her since they met first year. 

Thinking about his smile led to thinking about his lips. How would they feel against her own? “Stop it,” she whispered harshly under her breath. Her mind was desperate to win the war against her heart.

James pulled his hand away when she accidentally spoke. Shit, Lily thought. “Did I do something wrong?” James asked with a confused look on his face.

“No, sorry. Was just thinking,” she tried to explain, hoping that would suffice.

“About what?” Of course it didn't, but then again she wasn’t surprised.

“Nothing,” Lily said quickly. She could tell he wanted to press her further, and was surprised when he didn’t.

Maybe accepting his invitation to join him for a night out was a mistake. Was it a date? Wasn’t it? Lily kept flip flopping back and forth. One moment she wanted it to be, but then the next moment she criticized herself for letting her feelings get the better of her. 

This is James we’re talking about. The guy who thinks he’s better than everyone, she thought. But that wasn’t entirely true. She was starting to realize through his letters that it was more an act than anything else. He really wasn’t as self-centered as he let on. In reality he was actually kind hearted and incredibly loyal to his friends, and that loyalty extended to her. 

Lily knew she’d been too wrapped up in her own determination to hate him than to allow herself to see it. If she thought back, she knew his true colors were revealed when Sev called her that awful word towards the end of fifth year. After he’d defended her, she started to let him in; she gave him a chance, and he continued to prove himself over and over.

And now here she was, sauntering down the streets of Ipswich after sharing a meal with James Potter in a muggle restaurant, left wondering about the state of the evening. Lily was fairly certain they were nearing his family’s home, which meant the night out was probably going to end soon. They’d say their goodbyes, she’d apparate home, and be none the wiser on the state of their relationship.

The sound of his voice pulled her out of her thoughts. “This is me,” he said, gesturing to his house. They stood there awkwardly for a moment before he spoke again. “We could go sit in the garden if you wanted, or you could apparate home, too. I’ve probably exceeded my allotment of your time and patience,” he said with a laugh.

“The garden is fine,” Lily said indifferently. 

He led her to the back of the house where they settled on a bench that was toward the back of the property. The lights from the house cast a dim shadow on the yard, but it was still fairly dark where they were. 

“I have to admit, Evans, I’m surprised you haven’t left yet,” James said with a chuckle.

 “Why do you say that?” she asked him.

“When have you ever spent this much time with me? Willingly, that is,” he clarified.

“I studied with you quite a bit during sixth year,” she countered.

“Yeah, but that wasn’t alone,” James reasoned.

“Well, you could have invited them tonight,” Lily said, referring to Sirius, Remus and Peter. Definitely not a date if he’s bringing up his friends, she decided.

“Did you want me to?” he asked as he turned to look at her. There was that piercing gaze again.

“No,” she answered honestly. She saw the hint of a smile creep across his lips. “Did you?”

“What do you think?” James asked sarcastically. 

“If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking, would I?” she retorted. She sighed in relief as their banter returned.

“Well, if I remember the invitation I extended in that letter, I believe it read something like, ‘How about we get together and grab a bite?’ I like to think that implied it was just the two of us,” he said.

Lily snorted. “Oh, yes because that screamed ‘just the two of us,’ Potter. Honestly, could you have been any less romantic?” 

Lily froze at the realization of what slipped out of her mouth. Maybe I didn’t actually just say that out loud, she thought, willing it to be true. But James’ face said it all.

“Are you looking for romance, Evans?” he asked, with a twinkle in his eye.

She was thankful it was dark, so he couldn’t see the blush she knew was plastered on her face. “That depends. Was this meant to be a date or not?” Lily was satisfied in her attempt to deflect and avoid his question.

His hand inched closer to her own. She could feel the heat of his skin against her own. “Do you hear yourself, Evans?” James let out a laugh. “Asking me if this is a date or not, after I’ve been asking you out regularly for the past two years. Of course it’s a date! I hope you didn’t accept under any false pretenses.”

“Considering you didn’t explicitly say it was a date in the letter, I could argue you did,” she said with a lofty smile. “I can’t say it feels like any other dates I’ve been on, though. I thought your dating game would be a bit stronger, Potter,” she teased.

He raised an eyebrow at her comments. “Yeah? How so?”

“Well, every other date I’ve had has at least held my hand,” she said first.

“Like this?” James asked as his hand slipped under hers, his fingers intertwining with her own. 

Lily nodded. Feeling her hand in his gave her the courage to lean in a bit closer. She knew she was testing fate, and perhaps going against everything her mind had been trying to resist, but she didn’t care. She wanted him to kiss her, no matter how frightening and exhilarating that thought was.

“Are there any other guidelines in your date handbook that I’ve neglected?” James asked.

Lily waited a moment before answering as she peered up at his face, trying to gauge his reaction to their proximity. “Hmm. Well, it is nearing the end of the evening,” she said casually.

“It is. Does that mean anything to you?” James pressed. 

She wasn’t sure if the moonlight was playing tricks on her or if he’d leaned in closer as well. Lily didn’t trust her voice, so she nodded, looking up at him through her lashes. Just as she was trying to come up with a witty remark, James leaned in closer and she felt his lips brush hers. Her eyes fluttered shut at the contact, and she pressed lightly into him, indicating she wanted more. 

She felt James pull away slightly, but before she could be disappointed at the loss of contact, she felt him lean in again, pressing his lips firmly into hers with more confidence. Lily returned the kiss eagerly, and before she knew it, his hand was in her hair as the kiss deepened. His lips felt exactly as she’d hoped, soft yet firm, feeling natural against her own. 

Lily’s heart soared in triumph as their innocent first kiss was on the verge of turning into a full on snog. Her free hand was reaching up to rest on his chest when she heard a rustle in some nearby shrubs, causing them to break apart. Despite the darkness, she could vaguely see the silhouette of a figure in the distance. She immediately reached for her wand, but James held her arm gently to stop her.

“Pads, is that you?” he asked, a hint of annoyance and amusement in his tone.

Lily shouldn’t have been as surprised as she was. James did mention that Sirius was staying with him for the summer. “I should go,” she said quickly as she pulled away from James’ embrace.

“You don’t have to—” James started to say before Lily cut him off.

“I know, but it is getting late. I’ll write to you in the morning,” she said as she flashed him a smile before slipping away. 

She didn’t give James a chance to say goodbye as she walked across the dew laden grass. Lily was about to apparate away, when she heard James call to Sirius.

“Pads, where are you going? Get back here!” James yelled to him, sounding annoyed.

“I’ve got to write to Remus!” Sirius said through gleeful laughter. “He needs to know! James and Lily are finally together!” 

Lily couldn’t help the wide smile that took residence on her face, as her heart beat with joy. Sirius’ words echoed in her mind as she returned home. Finally together.

[ificanthaveu]

Broadway Baby || Shawn Mendes

Description: You have known Shawn Mendes for nine years. And he has been a pain in your ass the entire time. NYC isn’t big enough for the two of you, and your hometown certainly isn’t either. (aka broadway!Shawn)

A/N: I thought of this au out of nowhere and I was like wait a minute....that could be really good. SO here we are! And I think it is pretty good! And yes the Jordan I mention a few times is Jordan Fischer. I am a whore for that man. ALSO just a disclaimer: I know absolutely nothing about the technicality or broadway or new york or anything so plz just pretend thank you

Word Count: 7.6k

Maybe going to your high school’s five-year reunion at some dive bar two hours away from where you currently lived and down the street from your old high school could have been the worst place to be on a Saturday night in May. 

You whisked the wine in your glass around as you watched it arch up the glass, threatening to spill out with each turn. The light above you flickered every few moments, and you couldn’t tell if the reason for your forming headache was the wine or the light or the fact that you were at your reunion. Or maybe all three. 

You leaned against a table with two people from your homeroom, both of them going on and on about their current fifth year of college they were finishing up. One was in a sorority and the other was the president of his frat. You could’ve seen that coming from your freshman year of high school. 

You occasionally chimed in every few moments just to look interested because you really didn’t have anyone else to talk to. You’d gotten here just a little too early since you had to take the drive and overestimated how long it actually took. Everyone who was eager for the reunion was here. Which meant everyone you did not want to see. 

Your friends planned on coming later, and in reality, you should have just stopped at their house before coming but last minute decided against it. You didn’t really see your high school friends as often as you once thought you would. But life got in the way. While everyone else tended to stay in the small town, you were one of the few who made it out to New York City just two hours away. You had a great job, you bought a house and had a dog. It couldn’t get much better for you. 

So, why you thought you would want to relive your high school days for a night? You still don’t know what you were thinking. 

“[Y/N]?” Eli said from next to you as you blinked a few times before looking at him. 

“How’s the big city?” He said with his smile that actually was too white. 

“Good! Really good!” You said with a smile before you took a sip, hoping he wouldn’t ask any more questions. 

“Do you ever run into Shawn?” Kelly asked from the other side of you. 

The name itself sent shivers down your spine. Not good ones. 

“Nope,” you said with a pop in your “p” as you downed your glass. 

“You guys were so close in high school,” Eli said. 

You held back a laugh as you glanced back over at him, “No, we weren’t.”

“Well you were the leads in all the musicals together,” Eli replied. 

“That means we were forced to act like we liked each other onstage. We were good actors. That’s why we were the leads,” you tried to say as casually as possible without making it obvious that your blood was boiling. 

“Could have fooled me,” Kelly taunted as she sipped at her drink.

You stifled an eye roll as you thought about what the best time would be to sneak away and get more wine. 

“Speak of the devil,” Eli said as you followed his eyes across the room. 

Your eyes briefly met with Shawn’s as he sauntered into the bar with more confidence than he should be allowed to have. 

You heard Kelly sigh from next to you as she rested her head on her hand. 

You could throw up. 

By the time you looked up again, he was walking right towards you. 

So, now was the right time to get another glass. 

You turned around and waved the bartender down for some wine and then thought maybe two glasses was a better idea but didn’t want to look as trashy as you felt right now being in the same room as Shawn again. 

By the time you turned around with your wine, Shawn was deep in conversation with Eli as Kelly lovingly listened in. 

You took a quick scan of the room, praying there could be someone else you could talk to. Most of the people you really didn’t care for or barely remembered. You spotted a few football players you had known since Kindergarten and hadn’t seen in a while. 

You were about to cross the room to them when you heard Eli say, “[Y/N]’s right here.”

Shawn looked up and smirked as his eyes met yours. There goes your escape. 

You smiled sweetly as you made your way back in between Eli and Kelly and a comfortable distance from Shawn. 

“Hi, Shawn.”

“[Y/N], good to see you,” he said, the damn smirk not leaving his face. 

“You too,” you mumbled from the rim of your glass. 

���Heard you’re over at Samson Management now? You know Jordan?”

You nodded your head and leaned on the table again, “Yeah, I work with Jordan pretty often. He’s fantastic.”

Shawn looked over to Kelly, turning on his charm as he said, “Jordan’s the lead right now in the musical I’m in.”

It took every ounce of you to not roll your eyes and say something snarky. 

“You mean the musical you’re an understudy for?”

It didn’t work.

Shawn cocked an eyebrow at you and his smile faltered as you foiled his face he was putting up for everyone. 

“Yes, [Y/N], that would be the one,” he said slowly. 

“Mhm,” you mumbled.

“Anyway, I’m in Dear Evan Hansen, and Jordan plays Evan right now. We’re pretty good friends, and he’s managed by the company [Y/N] interns for,” he said simply. 

“I’m not an intern,” you said calmly. 

“You were.”

“When I was in college, now I’m a junior manager,” you said, your grip on your glass getting dangerously harder. 

“Hm, whoops,” he said before taking a drink of his beer. 

You could cut the tension with a knife as Eli and Kelly shared looks. 

“Who are you managed by again, Shawn?” You asked. 

If looks could kill, you’d be dead. 

“I’m in between managers.”

“Isn’t that what people say when they were fired from a job? That they’re in-between jobs?” You said with a quiet laugh. 

You could practically see the steam threatening to spill from Shawn’s ears. 

“Things weren’t working out,” he said carefully. 

“I’m going to go say hi to Andy,” Kelly said quietly as she backed away. 

“Me too,” Eli said as he did the same. 

You were in a staredown with Shawn as they both almost sprinted away. 

“Want anything from the bar, [Y/N]? Or still nursing your third glass?” He taunted as he walked past you to the bar behind you. 

“Not my third.”

“Sorry, second,” he said with a smile as he turned around. 

You shook your head and bit your lip harshly. 

“Just upset I’m spoiling your whole facade?” You said, leaning against the bar next to him. “A simple google search could have spoiled it anyway.”

“Sorry we’re not all perfect,” he said, not looking at you. 

“Yeah, real bummer,” you said before pushing yourself off the bar and making your way across the room to the people you meant to see earlier. 

Andy scooped you up into a big hug as you finally approached him, rocking you back and forth. 

“Heard you were being snarky across the room?” He whispered in your ear before pulling away and giving you the same look he’d been giving to you since Kindergarten. 

“Some things never change,” you said as you sat down next to him. 

“No one really likes him anyway, just think they do because they think he might be famous one day,” he said. 

“He won’t be,” you said. “We run in relatively the same circle with my office managing a lot of the people he performs with. He won’t go anywhere with that attitude.”

“Nothing’s changed,” he mumbled. 

“Not at all.”

You watched Shawn sweet-talk one of the old cheerleaders from across the room, probably raving about his latest performance where he was a background character for one whole scene but making it sound so much better. 

“I’m still shocked nothing ever happened between the two of you,” Andy suggested. 

You shot your head to the side to look at him. 

“I can’t be with him for more than a minute without a fight starting,” you reminded him. 

“That tension, I’m telling you,” he said quietly. 

“You are unbelievable,” you said through a laugh. 

Before he could respond, Shawn was walking to the group you were currently in. 

“Don’t be mean,” Andy warned. 

“You know I can’t promise that,” you whispered back. 

“Our own broadway baby!” One of the girls yelled as Shawn hugged one of the guys. 

You scoffed as Andy shot you a warning look before waving at Shawn. 

Shawn returned the wave and walked closer. 

(ITALICS) Here we go again. 

“Good to see you, man,” Shawn said as he shook his hand. 

“You, too,” Andy said as sweet as ever. 

“You still live around here?” Shawn asked. 

“No, I actually live in Chicago now,” Andy said. 

“That’s great,” Shawn said, being nicer than usual. 

“Yeah, how’s the big city?” Andy returned the question. 

“Really great,” Shawn said before taking a drink. “I keep pretty busy.”

“So I hear,” Andy said with a nod. 

You took another drink as you watched the interaction between the two of them. Andy knew how much you didn’t like Shawn, but the two still always got along pretty well. While you were always the first person he greeted after the musical, Shawn was the second. You tried not to let it make your blood boil. But that’s just how Andy was. He loved everyone and everyone loved him. 

“Hey, [Y/N], heard a bunch of people from Samson’s are coming to the show next week?” Shawn questioned.

“Yes, we are,” you said casually. 

“We? As in you’re going?” Shawn pried. 

“Well, I do work with Jordan fairly often, so yes, I will be going,” you said softly. 

“Great,” he said through a toothy smile. 

“Fantastic,” you said as you mirrored his look. 

Before the conversation could turn bad, Shawn got distracted and walked away. 

Andy let out a breath before taking a drink, “I have a feeling you don’t actually feel fantastic about it.”

“As long as I don’t see him, we’ll be just fine,” you said, leaning your elbow on the table.

“I feel like that’s jinxing yourself,” Andy said slowly. 

“Well, I’ve said it over fifty times since we decided we were going, so this time would be no different. If it was jinxed, it was jinxed over a month ago,” you said, finishing your glass. 

“I wish you luck,” he said. 

“Thanks,” you said as you squeezed his arm before standing up to go to your friends who just walked in. 

You could see Sophie eyeing Shawn from a mile away. 

“Soph?” You questioned as she snapped out of it and looked at you. “What are you looking at?”

“I’m not saying that out loud,” she replied. 

“Good idea,” you said back. 

“You have to admit, he looks good,” she said simply. 

“You know I would never admit that even if I did believe it.”

The few of you made your way around a table with a few other people you did the musicals with and talked about the great times you had as you had another glass of wine and started to feel it hit, along with everyone else. 

You were laughing at someone’s story about a performance gone wrong before you realized Shawn was there. You couldn’t even tell when he got there but it wasn’t bothering you nearly as much as you thought it would. 

When he wasn’t trying to impress everyone around him, he wasn’t bad at all to be around, but when his ego took over and all he wanted to do was make people think he was something he wasn’t, you wanted to kill him. 

“Remember when [Y/N] bit Shawn’s lip?” Sophie reminded everyone. 

Shawn threw his head back in laughter as you shook your head and looked down. 

“I still have a scar!” Shawn yelled from across the table as he pointed at you. 

“I’m sorry!” You yelled back through a laugh. “If you would’ve done the moves we practiced, it wouldn’t have happened!”

“You bit through his lip!” someone said. 

“Not on purpose!” You said through a laugh. 

Shawn shook his head as the group calmed down, “I find that hard to believe.”

“Well, believe it. The last thing I wanted to do was have to drive you to the emergency room on a Friday night,” you said. 

“And you stayed with me the whole time,” he said as he rested his hand on his chest. “I’m touched.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you reminded him. 

“I would never,” he said with a smirk. 

“Someone do karaoke!” Someone else yelled as they pointed at two people getting off the stage. 

Your eyes met Shawn’s from across the table as you both nodded and walked towards the stage, not even having to say the song which you found early on was both your default karaoke song. It was always a duet between the two of you at your cast parties. 

Bruises by Train started playing as people turned and cheered to see the duo up on stage. 

Shawn started singing the first verse as you bopped your head to the familiar tune. 

You cut in with your part as you looked at him, and he looked back at you. 

You felt like you were back on stage with him, playing the part and acting like you could kiss him when this was all said and done. He joined in with you for the chorus as the two of you stood fairly close, looking at each other as you belted the chorus. 

You stood side by side for the next part, your shoulders brushing as you pointed at people as you sang “have you seen him?”

You casually changed “Johnny B” to “Andy T” as Andy hollered from the back of the bar and Shawn laughed through his half of the line. 

You went back into the chorus as you looked at him again, spreading your arms and feeling like you were on the big stage all over again. You didn’t realize how much you missed it. 

You sang the lines of the bridge softly as Shawn did the same, his eyes not leaving yours. You looked at Shawn in ways you hadn’t since the final night senior year, reminding everyone watching why the two of you were always the stars.

Before you could register it, the song was done and you were standing inches from Shawn as everyone cheered. 

“Guess you still got it,” Shawn said with a small smile. 

“Guess you do, too,” you said back, not even wanting to be snarky anymore. 

You both walked back to your table, this time Shawn standing next to you as you laughed with your friends. 

You glanced at the time just to see it was 1:00 am as people were leaving. 

“Shit,” you mumbled as you went to call an Uber since you clearly couldn’t drive. 

You looked around just to see that Sophie and your other friends had left. Andy was gone, too, and you were running out of options. 

You planned on not really drinking and just driving back to the city tonight, but that was no longer an option. 

“You good?” You heard from behind you. 

You turned to see Shawn with his hands tucked in his pockets. 

“I was going to drive back tonight,” you mumbled. 

“That’s not happening anymore.”

“Yeah, I know,” you scoffed. “I’ll just call my parents.”

“Come on, I got a hotel. You can stay with me,” Shawn said as he started walking away. 

“Aren’t you drunk?” You said as you watched him. 

He turned around and shook his head, “I had one beer nearly six hours ago.”

“Oh, ok,” you said as you followed him to his car.

You drove in silence to a hotel a few blocks away, feeling your buzz quickly wear off. 

You followed him in and up to his room. He let you in in front of him as you made your way to the bed in the corner and plopped down on it. 

“You’re a lifesaver,” you said to the ceiling. 

“I know,” he sighed as he sat on the edge of your bed. “We can pick up your car in the morning.”

“Thanks,” you said as you turned on your side to look at him.

“I’m sorry about before,” you said softly. “I got carried away with the digs.”

He nodded his head and leaned back so his head was next to yours, “I deserved it.”

You turned to look at him better, noticing his jawline as he spoke. 

“I mean, it’s kind of embarrassing having to come to your reunion as an understudy,” he said softly. 

“It’s still Broadway,” you reminded him. “You’re twenty-two. You have plenty of time to ace the lead.”

“Thanks,” he said as he also turned to look at you. 

Your faces were dangerously close as you watched his eyes flick towards your lips and you inched closer. 

Before you could rethink it, Shawn was on top of you and his tongue was in your mouth. 

Every insult you had hurled before were forgotten as he deepened the kiss and moved you up the bed, his hand caressing your back underneath your shirt and getting dangerously close to your bra. 

This was not something you ever did in the musicals.

You woke up the next morning, slightly startled as you looked around at your surroundings. 

And then seeing the sleeping figure next to you.

“Fuck,” you mumbled as you remembered doing things you never imagined doing the night before. 

You noticed you were wearing his shirt and tried not to groan as you slowly got out of the bed to find your clothes. You threw them back on and called an Uber as you slipped on your heels and tiptoed to the door, grabbing your purse and sneaking out. 

You sat in the back of the Uber and cursed everything you could as you made your way to the bar again. 

You hopped out of the car and into your own as you rested your head on your steering wheel and banged it against it a few times for good measure. 

Your headache began to sink in as you prayed you wouldn’t have to throw up on your two-hour drive back home. 

You finally started your car and put the nearest McDonalds into your maps before pulling out. 

You could’ve screamed when Bruises played through your speakers. 

—

Your pounding headache didn’t go away the next few days, and it certainly wasn’t just from your hangover. 

Monday was a whole new obstacle as half your coworkers asked about your reunion and the other half wanted to talk about the show on Friday. 

Your head was pounding, and your coffee wasn’t cutting it anymore. You rested your head in your hands for a moment to breathe before you went to grab lunch.

Your phone rang before you even had that moment. 

“Yes?” You said simply.

“You have a visitor. He’ll be waiting in the commons,” the receptionist said before hanging up. 

Your heart leaped into your throat before you tried to swallow it down. You took a shaky breath before grabbing your bag and walking downstairs, a little too terrified to see who was waiting for you downstairs. 

Seeing Andy waiting there was the best thing to happen to you in the past week. 

You breathed a sigh of relief as you walked up to him and gave him a quick hug. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked with a smile. 

“My flight leaves out of JFK in a few hours, so I thought we could grab lunch first,” he said as you began to walk out of the building. 

“Perfect. The place next door is great,” you said as you felt the first joy you’d felt since Saturday night. 

“I also have to ask you something,” he said slowly. 

“Mhm,” you mumbled as you pushed the door open to the cafe, and he followed behind you.

“Where did you go Saturday night? After the reunion?”

Your heart went right back into your throat as you didn’t look at him and instead focused on the menu on the wall. 

“Back here. I got back super late,” you said as you begged your voice not to falter. 

“Really? Because I saw your car there Sunday morning,” he said. 

You knew you couldn’t prolong it, so you finally looked at him as he looked at you with a blank stare and raised eyebrows. 

“I went to Sophie’s,” you tried. 

“Sophie left before I did,” he said quietly. “And she left with Eli.”

You didn’t respond and instead stepped up to order your usual. You could hear Andy sigh as you recited your order. 

You stepped to the side and let him order before grabbing a table in a secluded corner.

He sat his number down on the table before sitting across from you and leaning forward on the table, giving you another look. 

“We’ll do this again. Where did you go Saturday night?” He asked. 

You sighed as your shoulders slumped. 

“I stayed with Shawn,” you whispered. “He offered, and I didn’t have many other options.”

“I knew it,” he said in his typical, “I told you so” voice he’d been using on you for years. 

“Don’t even say anything. I’m not proud of it,” you mumbled as they set your food in front of you. 

“[Y/N], come on. You know I’d never say anything mean about it,” he reminded you. 

“Yeah, yeah I know,” you said as you started to pick at your food. “No one knows.”

“So I’m guessing that means you did more than just sleep wherever he was staying?” He pried. 

“If I don’t say it out loud, it never happened,” you said before taking a sip. 

“Oh my God,” he mumbled. 

“You said you wouldn’t say anything,” you groaned. 

“I won’t. I won’t,” he said before he sighed. “I just want to say that I told you so, and I saw this coming from a mile away.”

“Ok, I get it,” you said through a laugh. 

“I mean I literally said it probably hours before you did it,” he reminded you again. 

“Yes, ok, anyway, when does your flight leave?” You said, trying to derail the conversation. 

“4:00 pm, but anyway, who came on to who?” He continued. 

“I’m not answering any questions,” you said, taking bites of your food as he thought of more questions to ask. 

“Fine,” he sighed, finally eating. 

“But he definitely came on to me.”

“I knew it.”

— 

You kept busy the next week on your latest project, and you managed to forget about the past weekend...until Friday came up faster than expected. 

You hated to admit it, but you bought a new outfit for the show, one that you know would make Shawn drool in the off chance you did see him.

During the day you were in and out of meetings, barely having time to even sit down in your office. When you finally had a chance, one of the interns leaned in. 

“Ross was looking for you before, but he just told me to tell you that Jordan won’t be on tonight,” she said. 

“What?” you said a little louder than planned. 

“Yeah, I think he said he has strep throat,” she explained before walking away. 

You took a deep breath and ran your hands through your hair. 

This could’ve been your worst nightmare.

You took your time getting ready after work as the chances you would see Shawn increased with each passing moment in the past week. 

You met your coworkers outside the venue an hour before the show and found Ross to grab your ticket. 

“Someone told you right?” Ross said as he handed it to you. 

“Yeah, Jordan’s out,” you said through a sigh. 

“And that Shawn Mendes will be on,” he said as he looked at the altered program. “Know anything about him?”

“Well,” you paused and wondered if you should tell the truth or lie through your teeth. “I actually went to high school with him.”

Ross’s eyebrows shot up as he looked at you. “Tell me everything. I hear he’s looking for new management.”

You bit your tongue as your group walked into the theater and tried to think this through. 

“He’s insanely talented. We starred in most of the musicals together, and he manages to have chemistry with anyone he’s onstage with, which I hope you’ll see tonight. He’s got a good heart, but I think it’s hard for him to show it sometimes. This is all he’s ever wanted to do, and he shows it in everything he does,” you explained as you found your seats. 

“He sounds like a good guy,” Ross offered. 

“Yeah,” you paused. “He is.”

“What musicals did the two of you do together?” He continued. 

“Um, wow, we did The Last Five Years, High School Musical, Footloose and Hairspray,” you remembered. 

“So why did he go and do this while you went into management?” 

“He had the confidence I could never get,” you said as your voice shook just the slightest.

“You’re confident.”

“I wasn’t in high school,” you explained. “Shawn had enough for the two of us. Sure, I would’ve loved to do this,” you gestured to the stage. “But Shawn knew he was going to do this. There was a big difference.”

“Yeah, I get that,” he said with a nod. “And you settled for management.”

“I wouldn’t say settled. This is my dream job,” you said through a small laugh. “I wanted college and stability. I needed it. Shawn was always really good at being spontaneous which was definitely something I could’ve learned from.”

“You speak pretty highly of him,” Ross pointed out. 

You paused for a moment and ran through the conversation you just had in your head. You didn’t realize how many nice things you had to say about him. 

“Yeah,” you said before pausing. “He’s a really good guy. We didn’t always get off on the right foot, but when it came down to it, we made a good duo.”

“Well, if this show goes well, I just might have to have a conversation with him afterward. Care to join me? Introduce me to him?” Ross questioned as he looked at you. 

You swallowed hard before nodding your head, “Of course.”

The lights dimmed before Ross could say anything more than “Great.”

You took a deep breath and released it slowly as Shawn walked on to the stage. You were nervous for him, you being the only one who knew the weight of this performance, what Samson Management could do for him. 

You’d never even seen him perform except from the wings of a stage while you did a quick change or quickly rehearsed lines with someone in the stage crew. Before tonight, all you ever got were glimpses of the person he became when he walked on stage. 

And he was amazing at it. 

He had the whole crowd on the edge of their seats as he sang “Waving Through a Window.” You did everything in your power to make sure no one saw you wipe the tear escape your eye. 

You never would’ve been able to tell that this was Shawn’s first time performing this part. He had the whole audience laughing when they needed to be laughing and crying when they needed to be crying. You felt your heart follow his journey as you saw Shawn genuinely thrive. 

It was intermission before you knew it, and you took a moment in the bathroom to fix your makeup that may have ran down your cheek a little. 

By the time you got back to your seat, Ross was jotting down quick notes. 

“So, what do you think?” You asked. 

“He really is something else,” he said with a big smile. “We definitely have to talk after.”

You couldn’t hide your smile as the lights dimmed again and the musical continued. 

By the time the show was done, your mascara needed fixing again and your chest hurt. You ducked into the bathroom again before meeting Ross to introduce him to Shawn. 

You showed your credentials to the stage manager as you walked ahead of Ross to find the door with Shawn’s name on it. You took a deep breath before knocking slightly and hearing a muffled “come in.”

You creaked the door open to watch Shawn turn around to see you. 

“[Y/N],” he said just above a whisper as his face fell. 

Before he could say anything else, you opened up the door more to show Ross with you. Shawn’s immediately put on a different face as he stood up. 

“Shawn, this is Ross Thompson, senior manager at Samson Management. Ross, this is Shawn Mendes, Clinton’s own Broadway baby,” you said with a smile as the two shook hands before Shawn nervously stuffed his in his pockets and glanced over at you. 

“You were amazing,” Ross started. “And we would love to meet with you sometime, over at Samson.”

“Really? That would be amazing,” Shawn said with a smile. 

Ross handed him his card before saying, “Email me Monday morning about what times work best for you within this next week, and we’ll set up a time where the three of us can talk.” He said as he gestured at you, and you nodded your head. 

“Thank you so much. I look forward to talking more,” Shawn said as he shook Ross’s hand again. 

“We’ll see you then,” Ross said as the both of you turned toward the door. 

“[Y/N]?” You heard him say as you both turned around. “Can I steal you for a minute?”

You swallowed hard before nodding over at Ross.

“I’ll meet you guys at Ellen’s,” you said with a soft smile before Ross waved goodbye and walked out. 

You shut the door behind him before you leaned against it and looked at Shawn. 

“I have about a million things to say, and I don’t know which one to start with,” he said a little too quickly. 

“Yeah, I figured.”

“What did you say?” He paused. “That made him want to talk with me?”

“Well, he asked about you and was so excited to hear that we went to high school together, so I told him everything I could,” you said quietly. 

“Which was?” He pried. 

“Um,” you faltered. “I said that we starred in the musicals together…”

“And?” He cut you off. 

“And that you’re amazing at what you do. That you were born to be doing this, and it shows when you walk onstage. That you have a good heart, but sometimes have a hard time showing it. That we didn’t always get off on the right foot, but at the end of it all, we made a really good duo,” you said, trying to look anywhere but his eyes that seemed to be piercing into yours. 

“You mean that?”

You could hear the strain in his voice. 

“Of course I do,” you said through an exhale. “Look at you, Shawn. You just walked out on that stage like you’ve been playing this role your whole life. You had that whole audience convinced you were the actual Evan Hansen when that person doesn’t even exist.”

A moment of silence surrounded the two of you. You stared just past Shawn at the table scattered with his things, focusing on an open foundation bottle instead of him. 

“So you liked it?” He finally said. 

“I loved it,” you said quietly. “I’ve never actually gotten to see perform from an audience before. It was breathtaking.”

“Thanks,” he said almost under his breath. 

It went quiet again, and you uncomfortably switched from one foot to the other as the tension filled the room like so many times before. Except for all different reasons. 

“So why’d you leave?” He finally asked as his hands flew up with frustration. 

Your body slumped as you sighed and sat on the arm of the chair right next to the door. 

“Please don’t do this, Shawn,” you begged as you looked at the floor. 

“No, I’m doing this. Why did you leave? I’m not just some guy you met at a bar, [Y/N]. I thought you had a little more respect for me than that,” he said, the frustration in his voice evident. 

“Because you’re you,” you started. “You’re a pain in my ass and have been for the past nine years. I’ve had to watch you captivate the stage with this natural flair that only you could pull off, and I never could. Seeing you on Saturday was like being on stage as a freshman as Gabriella all over again, and I was staring at Troy, who had the confidence of ten people, showing this whole world what he can do, and I can’t. I couldn’t just let myself live in whatever fake world we made up Saturday night just to regret it Sunday morning.”

“Why are you saying this? It’s been five years since we last sang together, but it felt like yesterday when I looked at you doing that note change you always did when we sang that song. Whenever I perform with you, I forget that you’re you. I forget that you hate my guts half the time and the other half of the time you’re tolerating it because you have to,” he said, frustration evident in his voice. “You can’t make up excuses anymore, [Y/N]. What happened Saturday was not some performance. We’re not in high school. And even if we were, you are still just as amazing as a performer as you think I am, but you’re still stuck in this mindset that you were just put there by default.”

“Do you know how hard it is to perform with you when everyone who encounters you falls in love with you?” You almost yelled as you stood up, and Shawn stepped back. “I had to, and still have to, work twice as hard as you to get half of the recognition you did. We were never equals. I didn’t hate you, Shawn. I could never hate you because of how you made me feel like I was everything when we were on stage together. I have tried every night for the past nine years to forget the way my stomach would flip when you sang to me, and right when I thought I could, I was right back to it because of that fucking reunion.”

“Then why did you leave?” He finally yelled. “I thought I had finally figured you out, finally figured out how I could get you to be mine, and by the time I woke up, you were gone and probably halfway to New York. Why won’t you just accept that there was always something here, but you were too scared to ever admit it because of what other people thought of me?”

You didn’t say anything. You didn’t have anything to say. 

“I have been chasing after you for nine years, and I’m just starting to think that I just can’t do it anymore,” he said quietly as he sat down on the couch opposite of you with his hand on his forehead. 

You watched the way he rubbed his forehead as he caught his breath, the way his body slumped as he let out everything he’d always wanted to say. 

“When I woke up on Sunday, I couldn’t get out of my head that I was just there because I was convenient for the night. That I wasn’t what you actually wanted,” you said slowly. “I didn’t realize there was something more.”

He sighed and looked up at you.

“But by the time I got back here, I knew I shouldn’t have left. I made that mistake, and I’m sorry that you had to deal with the consequences of it. Whenever I’m with you, I just get caught back in this old mindset that you’re always going to be better than me, and that’s a real blow to the ego, but it’s all in my head,” you said. 

He didn’t say anything as you finished your thoughts. 

“That’s all I have left to say,” you said after a moment.

“Then I think you should go,” you said just above a whisper. 

“Shawn…” you started. 

“I’ve had enough for one night. Please just go.”

So you did.

—

The following week was just as painful as the one before as you awaited the meeting you would eventually have to sit through with just Ross and Shawn. The calendar notification popped up Monday morning, so you knew Shawn called him as soon as he possibly could to set this up. You had a brief meeting with Ross on Thursday morning, and Shawn was planned to join you shortly after. 

You walked with Ross to one of the rooms on the first floor to go over some notes before meeting Shawn. He pulled up his laptop and let out a sigh. 

“I need you to be honest with me about how you feel about Shawn,” Ross said. 

“Ok,” you said carefully. 

“Because I asked around and the things I’ve heard have been exactly 50/50. People either love him or hate him. I can’t afford to have a hated man on our team,” Ross explained. “So I need the real story.”

You took a deep breath and stared at your own computer screen before looking up at him. 

“I have known Shawn since I was 14. The first time I met him was a chemistry read for High School Musical. I had heard about him. I had heard…not the greatest things about him. That he had a big ego and knew he was good and wasn’t afraid to flaunt it. So, I went into that chemistry read with this horrible idea of him in my head. And I held on to it for a lot longer than I’d like to admit. But every day I spent with him on the stage, that chipped away more and more,” you said. 

“What I said on Friday, about him knowing this is what he was meant to do, is completely true. People often take that the wrong way. I took that the wrong way. I wasted years hating him when he was just passionate about what he did. Once you realize that, he is genuinely one of the most amazing performers you will ever work with and just as amazing of a person,” you finished. 

Ross nodded his head as he leaned back in his chair, crossing an ankle over a knee as he bit the end of his pen. 

“I trust you,” he said after a moment. 

Before you could say anything else, Ross’s laptop dinged to notify him that Shawn was here. 

“You want to go get him?” Ross offered. 

You nodded your head and walked out of the room and down the long hallway to see Shawn waiting at the end of it by the receptionist’s desk. 

“Shawn,” you said with a head nod towards the hallway. 

He didn’t say anything and followed you down the hallway. 

Before you went in, Shawn stopped a few feet away from the door. You turned around and looked at him. 

“This is make or break for me,” he said. 

“I know.”

“What do you think it’s going to be?” He asked. 

You sighed and leaned against the wall. 

“Despite what has happened, I have done everything I possibly can at this point. I believe in you, Shawn, and I’ve done everything I can to get Ross to feel that same way,” you explained. 

“You mean that?”

“Every word.”

You didn’t allow him time to respond as you opened the door and let him in in front of you. His nerves seemed to evaporate away as he shook Ross’s hand and took a seat across from the two of you. 

Ross sighed as he sat down before he said, “I’ll cut right to it.”

Shawn simply nodded his head. 

“We would love for you to join our team,” he said. 

You watched Shawn relax, and it took everything in you not to jump up. 

“Thank you so much, sir. You won’t regret it,” Shawn said with a smile that could light up the entire city. 

“I know,” Ross said with a head nod. “You’re lucky you have someone as great as [Y/N] in your life. She did a really good job of talking you up.”

Shawn looked at you as your eyes widened at Ross’s blatant statement. 

“Yeah,” Shawn said, still looking at you. “I am.”

The meeting went relatively quickly as preliminary paperwork was filled out and the basics were gone over. The looks Shawn gave you didn’t go unnoticed as you explained the necessary policies. 

“Well, Shawn, that’s all we have for you today,” Ross said as he stacked up some papers and set them on top of his laptop. “You’ll be working mostly with me and [Y/N], but for the majority of the time it’ll just be [Y/N],” he said as he gestured to you. 

You nodded your head as Shawn looked at you again and nodded along. 

“You have my number, but call this number if it’s during work hours,” you said as you handed him your card. “I check my email constantly, so you’ll also be able to reach me quickly there if I’m in a meeting.”

“Got it,” he said as he placed your card with the other papers stacked in his arms. 

“We look forward to working with you,” Ross said as he gestured forward. “I’ll have [Y/N] walk you out,” 

You and Shawn walked out the door and down the hallway towards the front door as tension surrounded you two again. 

“Can I see you this weekend?” Shawn said quickly as you reached the front door. 

Without saying anything, you pushed him out the front door, and you followed behind him. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled. 

“No, no, just the receptionist is nosey,” you said with a head shake. “Ross doesn’t care.”

“Oh, ok.”

“Anyway…” you offered. 

“Right, I just think we need to talk,” he said as he impatiently fiddled with his thumbs. 

“What’s there left to say, Shawn?” You asked as you crossed your arms as an unexpected breeze blew by. “We both said what we needed to last weekend. I got you your management team. What else do you want?”

“I don’t just want you because of a management team,” Shawn said with hurt in his voice. “And I did not think you’d be the one I’d work with if they brought me on here.”

“We want to keep you with people you know-“

“That doesn’t matter right now. [Y/N], what I’m trying to say is I want to see you. I want to take you on a damn date because I’ve wanted to since I was 14 and heard you sing ‘Breaking Free,’” he said, sounding out of breath, rarely seeing him so vulnerable.

You felt the smile tug at your lips as you tried to keep a straight face. 

“We do still have a lot to talk about,” you said. 

“A shit ton, but it would be a lot easier to do that over a drink, and when I know you feel the same way I do about you.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile before you said, “Of course, I want to get a drink with you. As a date.”

“Thank, God,” he said as his body slumped and his breath left him. 

“I told Ross about how I truly felt about you. That that big ego I thought you had was just passion for what you did, and I realize that now. And I’m sorry I couldn’t do it sooner,” you said before pausing. “You’re a good guy, Shawn,” you said simply as you looked up at him. “I don’t think I say that enough, and certainly not to your face.”

“Then say it again,” he said through a small smile. 

“Never.”

He stepped forward, aiming to kiss you but you held your hand up before he did. 

“I’m not going to kiss you outside my office, and I don’t kiss before the first date,” you said with a smirk.

He returned the look as he raised an eyebrow and leaned in to hug you. 

You held on to him tightly as he gripped onto you the same way. You felt his lips graze over your ear. 

“We’ve done a lot more than kiss before our first date.”

You pushed him off and walked towards the door, begging the blush to disappear from your face before you made it back to your office. 

“See you tomorrow? Ed’s on fifth? Pick you up at 6?”

You turned around and looked at him as he started backing away. 

“The Broadway bar? Really?”

“I have a brand,” he said with a shrug and his signature smirk.

You turned to go into the building before leaning out the door to look at him one last time.

“See you then, broadway baby.”

Reblog! Comment! Share! Send me LOVE

taglist (send me an ASK to be added!! )

@haute-shawn​ @havethetimeeofyourlifee​ @mendesficsxbombay​ @c25905​ @fallinallincurls​ @feliciaceciliamariajacobsson​

[myhockeyworld87]

Why are you here - Jamie Oleksiak

Word Count: 3189

Requested: Yes 

POV: Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Smut, Language, angst

Notes: Please note the times in which this story takes place. Since you all loved the first Jamie O story, here’s a new. Hope you enjoy this one just as much! Happy Reading all!!!

You’d met Jamie on Valentine’s day in 2016. On a whim, you and your friends had decided to have a Galentine’s day and all go out to dinner together. One of your friends had made reservations for the five of you at a nice restaurant in downtown Dallas. The meal had been great, but the drinks afterward at a nearby bar even better. That’s when you saw Jamie, he was there with some friends as well. His sheer frame alone caught your attention. One of his friends sent you all over a round of drinks and the next thing you knew, you were all walking over to say thank you.

Jamie was shy and quiet, not really participating in the conversation at first; which intrigued you. You wanted to know more about this gentle giant of a man, and so you decided to get to know him a little better. The more you talked to him, the more your attraction to him grew. He was sweet and kind, with a killer smile. He asked for your phone number and things progressed from there. Over the next month, you two were practically inseparable, at least when he was in town.

 By the first part of April, the two of you were exclusive. Most nights you either spent at his place or he stayed at yours and when the season ended, he took you on a week-long vacation to the Caribbean. He spent most of the summer in Toronto, though he’d fly you up for long weekends or fly back to Dallas from time to time. He even had you join him and his family in Rio when his sister competed in the Olympics. Things between the two of you were so good, you never saw the breakup coming.

 December 2017…

 “What do you mean they’re looking to trade you?” Jamie had sprung the information on you after the two of you had dinner at his place. 

 “I’m not sure what part you don’t get. The GM called me and said they’re working on a deal with Pittsburgh.” It was the first time in your relationship that you couldn’t read where his thoughts were on the issue. Did he want this? Or did he want to stay in Dallas? And what did this mean for the two of you? You wanted to ask all these questions, yet somehow you didn’t.

 “Are you ok?”

 “I mean what am I going to do about it.” He was so tight-lipped about this, you didn’t know how to handle things.

 “Do you want to talk about it?” You thought he would know by now that he could tell you anything but wanted to spell it out for him just in case.

 “Not really.” You rolled your eyes in frustration if he didn’t want to talk there was nothing you could really do.

 He was sitting at the kitchen island, head in his hand, just sort of staring off into space, while you finished up the dishes. As soon as you put the last dish away, you walked over and wrapped your arms around his waist. Just as you went to tell him that everything would be fine, his phone rang and your heart sank. He jumped out of your embrace and wandered around the living room. There was a lot of ‘okays’ and ‘sures’, but the one that cut the most was ‘I understand.’ And then the call was over. His face hung low and you didn’t need to ask what the conversation was about, to know he’s been traded to Pittsburgh. He didn’t say anything just stood there and so did you. A tear slid slowly down your cheek as his phone rang again. You didn’t hear any of the conversation as the ringing in your ears was way too loud. As soon as he hung up though, he had your full attention. “I have to be on the plane tomorrow morning at seven.”

 “What? Why so soon? I don’t understand.”

 “Fuck (Y/N) how can you not understand. This is my job, you knew this could happen when we started dating.”

 He was angry, more about the trade than your questions and you knew that deep down; though his words still hurt. You just wanted more time. Time to talk, time to figure out what this all meant for the two of you. It wasn’t something that you ever discussed, yet here it was happening. He headed back to the bedroom and you followed him. “Jamie…”

 You wanted to say more, but his voice stopped you. “I can’t do this right now. I have to pack.”

 “We have to do this now.”

 His phone rang again. You wanted to take the damn thing and smash it against the wall. This time there was a little bit of a spark to his voice, and you heard him say, ‘I’m excited to be there too. Pittsburgh is a great team.’ Had you actually heard him just say that. From what you could tell, this was not a man elated to be going to another team. When he finally ended, he looked up at you. You knew what he saw, tears in your eyes and worry written all over your face. “I’ve gotta look at this as a fresh start. I haven’t had the best of seasons and this is at least a chance to prove myself.”

 “A fresh start huh?” Those were the words that stuck out the most. “In everything?” you added.

 “Yeah, I think so.” You felt your heart splinter into a million pieces and in that moment you knew there was nothing you could say to change his mind. Though you knew this day could happen, you expected that he’d ask you to go with him. Maybe not right away, but at least within a few weeks. Never in your life did you expect this; for him to treat you with such indifference. “We can still be friends (Y/N).”

 “We’re not friends Jamie. Right now, I don’t know if we ever were.” With that, you grabbed your purse and left. He never called or texted, and neither did you. It was just too hard to think that he could so easily move on without you. 

  Current day… (January 2019)

 The first few months without Jamie had been hard. You missed everything about him. The way he cuddled you, the way he would call during the day just to hear your voice, and the sex, ugh… It had been simply amazing and to go to nothing, well...it was horrendous. Though somehow you fought through everything and continued on with your life. Eventually, you started to move on, going out to the bars and dates every so often. And though it was hard, you tried to block out all thought of Jamie.

  It was why you were hesitant to say yes when Aaron one of the Stars trainers asked you out. Eventually, he convinced you to say yes. He was sweet and kind, but you weren’t sure you could see yourself long-term with him. Still, you gave the relationship a chance, and when he asked you to attend a Stars event about two months into dating; you couldn’t say no.

 The air was chilly that night, as it was the end of January, and Aaron had an arm wrapped around you, as you entered the building. He was all dressed up in a suit and tie, something that didn’t usually happen, and you truly appreciated how good he looked. “Did I mention how hot you look tonight, in that suit?”

 A cute shade of pink stained his cheeks. “Thanks, I had to step up my game with you by my side.” He brought your hand to his and placed a chaste kiss on your knuckles. “You always look amazing, but tonight.” He held you at arm’s length to take in your appearance. “You’re absolutely gorgeous.” You’d chosen a short length white lace cocktail dress, with long sleeves and a low cut bodice. Its nude underlining gave the appearance that you were showing skin, but in actuality, you felt very covered up.

 “Thanks, I was hoping you’d like this dress.” You were also hoping that it would help spice things up in the bedroom, for your relationship was severely lacking in that department.

 “I more than like it, but I’m afraid so will half the guys on the team.”

 “Oh stop.” Once you were finally inside, the conversation switched and soon you were laughing and joking with all those around you. Aaron stayed by your side when you first got there; his hand either entwined with yours or on the small of your back. You were in an in-depth conversation with Ben and Andrea Bishop when you felt someone’s eyes on you. Looking from side to side, it took you a moment before you saw him standing there off to the side, with some woman you’d never seen before. It was Jamie, your Jamie. Your first thought was, why the hell was he here? He belonged in Pittsburgh. He’d gone there over a year ago, there was no reason for him to be back in Dallas. You politely excused yourself and headed to the restroom to collect yourself.

 The minute you walked into the empty hallway, you felt him following behind you. By the time you got to the restroom door, you thought you were safe; until he harshly whispered your name. “(Y/N).”

 You swiveled on your heel, turning towards him. “Why are you here?”

 “I got traded back.” That’s all he said nothing more.

 “You’re fucking with me aren’t you? Like this is some kind of joke or something.”

 “It’s no joke. I’m back playing for the Stars again.” There were a million butterflies in your stomach and they were all moving at once. What did this all mean? Then you remembered the woman standing beside him.

 “So you’re what back in Dallas for a hot second and you’re with someone. Or was she actually worthy of moving here with you, unlike I was when you went to Pittsburgh.”

 He took one long stride towards you and you took one back, feeling the wall press up against your back. “It’s not like that, but what about you? I saw you with Aaron when I left did you just move on with him or what?”

 “Fuck you Jamie!” you fairly spat the words at him. “It killed me when you left. You didn’t call or text, nothing. It was like I was some speck of dirt in your life you wiped away and then kept going. So don’t try and put this shit on me.”

 “Jesus, what did you want me to do?” He was inches from your face now, and you could feel his breath. “I got traded, it was my job to move.”

 The fact that he still didn’t think about taking you with him, cut deep; though you didn’t want to tell him that. “Yeah well it’s obvious, you moved on in more ways than one.”

 “The same way you have, I see.” You pursed your lips, the action drew his eyes to your mouth. You’d seen that look in his eyes before. It was needy and hungry and called out to you on the most basic of levels. Unconsciously, you bit your lower lip. It was a bad habit and one you knew drove Jamie wild. “Fuck (Y/N), you know what that does to me.”

 Closing your eyes, you willed yourself to get your primal instincts under control. Just being this near to Jamie, turned you on. The heated sensations you were feeling in this moment, you hadn’t felt in over a year and you longed to have his hands on you again. But he was with someone else, somewhere your conscience reminded you were too. When you finally opened your eyes, his lips were less than an inch from yours. You struggled to get oxygen into your lungs, as your chest rose and fell. Somehow you found yourself saying, “We can’t.”

 “Really?” His blue eye burrowed into yours. “Does he make you feel like this? I know you (Y/N), I know when your body wants something, and right now it’s screaming that it wants this.” He placed his large hand on your hip, as he pressed his body into yours. You could feel his hard length against you and immediately you grew damp with need. A small moan escaped you, and that was all Jamie needed. His mouth was on yours hot and hard, and you opened to him without thought. He took control of the kiss; it was everything that you remembered, only better. There was no seeking or searching for what you liked, for Jamie already knew.

 A voice sounded down the hall, and you pulled back immediately from the kiss. The hallway was still blessedly empty and you thought you could escape everything that you wanted at that moment until Jamie opened the door and pushed you inside. “You’re not getting away so fast.” He locked the door then, barring out the rest of the world, before kissing you hard again. “Fuck I missed this.” He breathed out. They were the words that were echoing in your brain, but couldn’t give voice to, as he trailed his hand up your inner thigh. When he cupped your sex, you gasped for air as if it was the first time in your life someone had touched you there.

 “So wet.” His fingers pushed your panties aside and slipped inside you. “You were always so wet for me.” It was true, you couldn’t deny that fact. Jamie’s touch, his words, hell, his presence alone could turn you on like no other. The fact that it still happened even after everything that had happened; you couldn’t quite comprehend and at the moment didn’t want to.

 You needed to level the playing field, so you skated your hand down his chest to the front of his clothed cock. The hard length of him felt good as you palmed him through his suit pants. Quickly, you undid his belt and button, so that as you unzipped his pants you could snake your hand inside his boxers. Running your nail along the underside of his cock, feeling his familiar ridges. He sucked in a harsh breath at your touch. “Fuck (Y/N).” Before you knew what was happening, he pushed two of his fingers deep inside your pussy, while his thumb flicked over your clit.

 “Oh god, Jamie.” You threw your head back as he started to pump in and out of you, while at the same time you stroked his length. His free hand started to scrunch up the side of your dress. Were you really going to fuck your ex-boyfriend in a bathroom? You tried to come to your senses, but every time reason would creep in, Jamie would hit that spot and make you weak again. “Jamie…I…”

 “Shhh…baby, I know what you want.” He removed his drenched fingers from your dripping cunt then, pushing your dress up over your ass. In one swift move, he ripped your panties off your body. Your hands pushed his pants and boxers down, to pool around his knees. When you tried to turn around, for him to take you from behind; he stopped you. “No way, babe. I need to see your face when I make you cum.” He lifted you up and placed you on the edge of the sink. Dick in hand, he guided himself to your soaked pussy, wetting himself in your folds.

 Hooking a leg around his waist, you urged him to enter you. He took his time, even though you didn’t have it; giving you just the head of his cock at first. Then he leaned his forehead against yours and kissed you. His tongue sweeping in and swallowing the moan you made as he filled you up. It felt like coming home, he fit so perfectly in you. Part of you wanted to weep with joy from finally being with him again, yet there were tears of sorrow as well, from everything that you’d lost with this man and you weren’t sure if you could ever get back. A lonesome tear slid down your face, but before you could get swept up in the emotion Jamie started to move.

 His hips thrust into you and you bucked yours to meet him. Taking your other leg, he wrapped it around him and then lifted you up as he fucked into you. He spun you both around, then pushed you against the wall, as he thrust deeper into you. Your back arched into the hard surface with each thrust and you knew there would be bruises there in the morning, but right now you didn’t care. You had Jamie’s cock in you and that’s all that mattered. Finally, you had to break the kiss, as you panted for air, but with the rocking of both yours and Jamie’s hips, all that came out were moans of pleasure. They seemed to fuel Jamie on as he picked up speed. Your orgasm started to build from deep within you. Tiny little tremors started to quake inside you, and then Jamie thrust into you hitting that sweet spot and you were gone; moaning out his name, as your pussy quivered around him. He thrust one last time, pumping his cock deep into you as he spilled his seed; stifling his moan against your neck.

 He held you against the wall a little longer as you both tried to reign in your breathing. Slowly reality started to set in. What the hell had you just done? You squirmed in his arms; he only held you tighter. “Jamie put me down.”

 His head drew up from your shoulder, to look at you quizzically as if to say ‘why?’

 “We shouldn’t have done this.” He slid out of you then and immediately you regretted the loss of him inside you. But you straightened your clothes the minute he set you back on the ground. It took a minute to regain your composure and by the time you looked back at Jamie, he’d looked as though nothing had happened, except for the frown on his face.

 “Why (Y/N), tell me why we shouldn’t have just done this, as you put it.?”

 “Because Jamie, you’re here with someone else, and so am I. Not to mention that we’re not…” you searched for the right words. “We’re not anything.”

 “Do you love him?”

 “What does that have to do with anything?” This wasn’t about you and Aaron, hell you weren’t exactly sure what it was about, but not that.

 “Fuck (Y/N), it has everything to do with this.”

 “The way I see it, you gave up any right to know my feelings on anyone when you left.” He went to say something and you held up your hand. “This isn’t the place for it. I need to go.” With that you walked out of the restroom, closing the door on Jamie, just as he had on you a year ago.

[halothenthehorns]

HOUSE-ELF

Warning, this chapter is pure head canon. There's never been any official statement from JK Rowling explaining the House-elf thing, so this is my answer to it. I am not for slavery, I do not approve of owning anything with even a glimmer of human intelligence, and all views I express through the characters do not necessarily reflect my views or opinions on these matters, these are just how I picture these characters talking about this.

HPHPHPHP

Lily took several deep breaths before starting in a peaceable tone, "alright Sirius, explain to me why this is apparently okay?"

No one needed to ask what she meant, she'd clearly taken James at word and wanted to have a real argument about house-elves with Sirius.

Remus decided to scarper before his name could be tossed around again and muttered something about the baby, plucking him away from Lily and quickly exiting the room. James really wanted to join him, but thought it was best if he sat down and refereed these two. Harry just wanted to know more about this.

Sirius rolled his eyes at her tone, he found it more condescending than neutral, as he snapped, "I don't know how to nicely put this for you Evans-"

"Potter," James quickly corrected, clearly never growing tired of doing so, but both ignored him.

"-but house-elves are stupid. Plain and simple. That's why they aren't on our map, they're not intelligent enough to be registered.* They can't bleeding do a thing unless they're told, hell they can't even take care of their life long term. Why do you think Dobby came up with all those cockamamie plans? House-elves don't understand the concept of a plan! If they didn't have wizard families telling them what to do, they'd die off at the first sign of danger."

"I don't understand how you can say that," she seethed, already cracks were appearing in her calm façade. "Goblin's aren't treated like that, nor Centaurs or Were-"

At Sirius' peeved look and a warning shake of his head from James, Lily decided to quit with the list and press her point, "have you ever even given them a chance? How the bloody hell do you just know they're that way? Dobby-"

"Is the best example for both points," Sirius cut her off. "They're not all treated like Dobby," Sirius sighed, running his hand through his hair in agitation. Truth be told, he actually didn't get into that many arguments, so he wasn't even sure how to win one. Sure he snipped at his friends on a daily basis, yes he spent the majority of his life telling people what he thought without remorse, but an actual structured disagreement like this was not his forte', plus he wasn't even sure what Lily wanted out of this. He just knew he wanted her to stop glaring at him every time they were mentioned. "In fact most of them are treated fairly well, like mine. Kreacher f'ing adores my Mum and Regulus, he's all too happy to parrot what they say, and do anything they ask. He just hates me because my Mum does, and I don't conform to what she, and by extension he, thinks."

"You mentioned he's been beaten though," Lily wheedled, thinking she'd finally found a way to make Sirius understand. Even if he didn't like his house-elf, surely he must admit that wasn't right.

Sirius though just snorted and waved his hand around without a care, "beaten is an exaggeration, he never even had to do some of the things to himself Dobby did, and they were for stupid little things. Like he was seen during a house party, or he creased my dad's trousers the wrong way. It never went so bad he tried to run away or anything. Plus, my parents are loons who'd beat the wall if it looked like it did something wrong, they shouldn't be the mark of how most are treated." Sirius didn't appreciate that the next expression he registered on Lily was pity, and not for the house-elf that time, but for him, so he kept going just a tad louder, "plus, the Malfoy's aren't any f'ing better. No, most are treated like Winky, and they enjoy their life. You've been down to the kitchens, you know the Hogwarts elves are treated just fine."

Lily sighed as she rubbed at her temple, this wasn't going anywhere, but she wasn't going to stop now that Sirius had spoken the root of her problem. "That's not the point Sirius, just because they're happy doesn't make it right. They've lived their whole lives being that way, so they don't know any better."

"What would you do then?" Sirius snorted. "Outlaw the owning of house-elves? Force everyone to sack them? You'd cause mayhem woman! House-elves would be losing their minds, and even if by some miracle they didn't all die of shock, any future house-elves wouldn't be any better because all generations would have the same mind set, except now they'd be bitter they couldn't be doing what they were meant to. Think of what Hogwarts alone would be like, the castle would crumble without those elves keeping it up."

Lily fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, she really didn't know where she wanted to go with this, she just couldn't stand the ideas of more Dobby's out there. She'd like to think that wizards were above owning other living things as property, but knowing how some Muggleborns were treated by purebloods, and purebloods were the main cause of her ire against house-elves, she really couldn't see it going in any great way. So instead she gently offered, "well, I still don't see why some laws shouldn't be in place, to at least acknowledge you shouldn't be so cruel to them. There should be standards for their living, punishments shouldn't be so horrid and frequent an elf fears its masters, they should have a voice in the Ministry if they feel they've been wronged just like anything."

Sirius just shrugged, but slouched back to indicate he at least wasn't going to argue that point. He still didn't have any great hate towards the actual species, they'd been friendly enough to him at Hogwarts, but Dobby and Kreacher in particular irked him. Dobby because, well because he'd tried to blow his godson's head off with a Bludger, and he still couldn't forgive that particular transgression no matter the end results. Harry had enough crap going on in his life for a 'friend' to be adding. Sure he'd redeemed himself by attacking Lucius at the end of that year, so he supposed Dobby at least balanced himself out.

Kreacher on the other hand he knew he'd never give two knuts about. All he ever saw in that thing was his parent's ideals. They had always treated Kreacher even better than Sirius, like that stupid thing was a better son then he was. Sirius had never endeared himself to his parents even at a young age, he'd always asked one too many questions and been punished for it, often far worse than some simple transgression the elf would do. As a child, he'd hated Kreacher for the small smiles he'd see his Mum give to the elf because he never got that. The older he got, the more he realized his Mother actually cared more for that thing then her oldest child. Still though, he supposed he wouldn't want his agitation at that vile little thing to be put on other elves who didn't deserve it nearly as much.

The other three kept watching him like they expected some revelation to take form in front of them, and Sirius' only response was to smirk. "What? If Lily wants to go on some crusade to save house-elves, I'm not going to stop her. Just wish she'd stop giving me death glares like I'm the one beating them with a stick in the meantime."

Lily wanted to explain that she so often got mad at Sirius because he acted one way, but she knew damn well he was thinking something else. She'd suspected once in awhile his upbringing hadn't been that dissimilar from Harry's honestly, and she hated to think on it. Sirius didn't speak about it much though, he actually kept himself as restrained as Harry around her at least, so she was left to wonder if he wasn't projecting most of his hatred he had at his name onto house-elves. She wanted to ask him about it, but she didn't feel she had the same right. Harry was her son. Whatever Petunia, or by extension Vernon, had done to him she had a right to know. Sirius was just her friend, he should tell whoever he wanted about that type of thing, and she wasn't sure if she asked what kind of answer she'd get.

Nothing had really been resolved between the two, but since they'd said their peace neither looked ready to blow a gasket anymore. James had certainly relaxed back, watching them bicker at each other was certainly more normal to him. Harry though was watching Sirius with interest. He, like Lily, had picked up on some of his comments and was wondering just what Sirius had gone through to hate his own elf so much, and he wanted to ask, but thought he'd be a hypocrite if he did. After all, he hadn't even told what the Dursleys had really done to him.**

They were all saved the trouble from anyone having to say anything else by Remus poking his head back in and saying, "I haven't heard any shouting or limbs being pulled apart yet, is it safe to come back?"

"I don't know," Sirius mockingly rubbed at his jaw as he eyed Lily critically, "Lily's still in the same room with me, and we all know that's a disaster waiting to happen."

Remus gave a snort as he walked back to Lily's side, happily flopping down beside her and cuddling the baby to his chest as he said, "I'll risk it. As it's her turn next, I don't think she can do anything to grievous to you."

HPHPHPHP

Hope you guys don't think too harshly of me for this chapter. nahte123456 is the one who originally came to this conclusion, but the more I thought about it, the more I really liked it. After all, Hermione eventually quit SPEW. After all those years of passion, she gave up on the idea, and instead just made a standard of living for them. Why did she quit on the idea? She must have learned something new in her own later years that no one would have explained to her. My idea is that she never got into this with Sirius, and Remus wouldn't really know any more about it than Lily because he never looked into it either, so she came to realize what Sirius said on her own in the end. They're not intelligent, at least not human levels.

I can still see an argument being made for both sides though and I'm not trying to dismiss the wrongs done to them regardless, it's a heavy topic that I'm not prepared to deal with.

Maybe Hermione did get a few free and realized the end results. Also, sorry it kind of went into a character study on Sirius there at the end...actually no I'm not, I love him too much to apologize for basing a chapter around just him.

*This was pointed out to me recently and it has boggled my mind ever sense. Holly crap they aren't, are they? Same with all the other animals except Mrs. Norris. So, is it because they have their own magic that made them uniquely not visible, or because they're really not of human intelligence enough to be registered in the maps protocol of tracking all 'living humans' in the vicinity? I'm at a loss...

**Sorry guys, I know you're all wanting Harry to share what really happened at the Dursleys, but I have a specific spot in mind (which many of you have guessed already) where that will be shown. Back to actual chapters next time!

[tsarisfanfiction]

Precious (Tales From The Heart)

Fandom: One Piece Rating: Gen Warnings: Minor injury Characters: Law, Penguin, Shachi  

"Captain!" Law looked up from his book at the call to see Clione skid to a halt outside the door. "Captain, come quick!"

"What is it?" he asked, quickly marking his place and setting it down on the desk as he stood up. Clione seemed fairly panicked, which meant that something had probably gone wrong. Probably – he could never quite tell with some of his crew sometimes.

"Shachi's in the infirmary," the shorter man told him, panting lightly. "We think it's just concussion." Law sighed, lengthening his strides and heading down the corridor.

"What did he do?" he inquired. Knowing Shachi, likely something stupid.

"There was a water spill in the corridor by the engine room," Clione winced. "Ikkaku went to get a mop but Shachi was in a hurry and-"

"Ignored common sense and slipped up?" Law predicted. Clione nodded. "Is the spill dealt with?"

"Ikkaku's mopping it up," Clione assured him. "Penguin was nearby and carried Shachi to the infirmary, and Uni's warning everyone else." Satisfied, Law quickened his pace again, leaving Clione to trail behind as he reached the infirmary and opened the door to see Shachi slumped on a bed with Penguin prodding his arm harshly. A metal basin in Shachi's lap told Law all he needed to know about his nausea levels.

Perching on the side of the bed, Law placed a hand gently on the top of Shachi's head. "This is why there is a no running in the corridor rule," he scolded. Shachi made a noise that could have been agreement, protest, or entirely unrelated.

Frowning, Law ran his hand lightly over the back of Shachi's head, searching for any physical signs of injury. Ginger hair slipped through his fingers as he did so.

"Mama," Shachi mumbled suddenly, a split second before Law found a small lump. Nothing overly serious, to his relief. Shifting hair aside to take a closer look, he was startled when Shachi repeated the call, this time moving his head further into Law's touch.

"Shachi?" he asked, leaning forwards so he was in the ginger's line of sight. Shachi blinked at him.

"Ow," he said, before grinning. "Oh, Law. What's up?"

"You have a concussion," Law told him bluntly, pleased at his return to coherency. He shoved the Mamas to the back of his mind to be hopefully forgotten about.

"Whoops," Shachi giggled, and Law mentally revised his assessment about a return to coherency. He grimaced in sympathy as the older man doubled over and retched into the bowl. Penguin sighed and rubbed at his back gently.

"You know the drill," Law said, retracting his hand from the ginger strands holding it hostage and shuffling Shachi around until he was less slumped over and more lounging against the head of the bed. "Rest, but don't go to sleep."

"Aye, aye, Cap'n," Shachi mumbled and Law eyed him suspiciously before creating a Room and summoning his book from his bedroom into his hand, fully intending on continuing from where he'd left off. While the Room was up, he double-checked Shachi's condition, pleased to confirm that the damage was, as he'd surmised, minor. With luck, Shachi would be properly coherent within an hour or so, and he told Penguin so. The older man looked relieved, but also a little pensive. Law got the feeling he was better off not knowing what about and buried his nose in the book as Penguin took over questioning Shachi to determine the exact state of his mental recall.

"It's all cleared up, Captain," Ikkaku reported, walking into the room as Shachi stumbled over the date. Law looked up from his book at her. "How is he?"

"Minor concussion," he replied. "Minor concussion and a loss of coherency, but it shouldn't take too long to pass."

"I'm glad," she said. "Is there anything you need, Captain, Penguin?" Law shook his head to answer for both of them – Penguin preoccupied with Shachi still – and watched her leave the room before turning his attention back to the book, content to leave dealing directly with Shachi to Penguin for the time being.

Hours later, with Shachi finally capable of answering all of the questions correctly without having to think about it and the metal bowl no longer required, Law and Penguin left him under the careful eye of Uni to search out some nourishment for themselves at their nakama's prodding.

Coffee was probably not what Shachi had had in mind when he'd pointed out that Law needed to eat, but that didn't stop him from gravitating towards the coffee maker and pouring himself a nice mugful to enjoy.

A plate ladened with onigiri presented itself in front of him.

"What's bothering you?" Penguin asked, hand not holding onto the plate sat firmly on one hip. It was a clear message that he was staging some sort of intervention, but Law wasn't entirely certain what he'd done to warrant one this time. Hoping that Penguin would deign to explain himself further, he picked up one of the rice balls and began to chew slowly.

Penguin sighed, picked up one of the rice balls for himself and shoved it in his mouth, barely chewing before swallowing it whole.

"Come on," he muttered, taking hold of Law's elbow and purposefully steering him into the room he shared with Shachi, gesturing for Law to sit on the lower bunk before grabbing the desk chair and straddling it backwards, facing Law. "Spill."

Law took a large gulp of coffee instead, unsure what exactly Penguin wanted him to talk about and feeling decidedly not in the mood for a heart to heart – not that he ever was. Unfortunately, for someone with zero aptitude for observation haki, Penguin could be annoyingly perceptive at times and dove straight for the heart of the matter, which Law himself had managed to lock away in the recesses of his mind and ignore. Clearly not well enough, if Penguin was picking up on it.

"Is it about Shachi muttering for nee-san?" the older man said, not particularly posing it as a question, but more as a statement of fact. Law didn't do him the discourtesy of pretending he didn't hear, but he also gave no indication that he was correct – even though it was. While it was true that Shachi had been concussed and therefore confused, he'd never lapsed far enough back to call for his long-dead mother before. Nor, more confusingly for Law, did that explain why he had attempted to nuzzle into his touch.

A disconcerting thought struck him and he pushed it away viciously, only for it to come straight back. If he'd been trampling all over something sacred to Shachi all these years, the ginger would surely have told him… right? Against his will his gaze fell to his fingers – fingers that braided Shachi's hair for the familiar comfort of home. Fingers that had been in Shachi's hair when Mama had slipped out.

Penguin let out a heavy sigh and leaned forwards, poking Law in the forehead not too dissimilarly to how he'd prodded at Shachi earlier.

"Nee-san always used to do his hair," he said calmly, too calmly for Law's tastes, considering he'd just confirmed the unwelcome thought that having his hair done had meant far more to Shachi than he'd ever realised. He'd known that it had meant something, from the years of insistence that anyone except him cut his hair, but if it had been a particularly important connection to his mother… And here Law had been, casually braiding his hair on occasion without even asking.

All of a sudden, he felt sick. Penguin seemed to pick up on his change in countenance, gaining a concerned air.

"You didn't know?" he asked, sounding slightly worried.

"No," Law said, speaking out loud for the first time since being dragged into the room. "He never said."

"I thought he would have," Penguin mused, settling back on his perch of a backwards chair. "So what stupid things are running through your head now?"

Law got the impression that Penguin wasn't taking the revelation anywhere near as seriously as he was and found himself confused by it. Of the two of them, Penguin certainly knew Shachi better, and was also well aware of Law's penchant for braiding Shachi's hair on occasion.

Finding nothing willing to pass his lips, he relapsed back into silence, nursing an almost-cold mug of half-drunk coffee and waiting for Penguin to carry the conversation further, or end it and leave to return to Shachi's side; whichever appealed to him.

"You know Shachi likes it when you do his hair, don't you?" the older man said after several moments, apparently realising both that Law had nothing to say, and what exactly was bothering him. There were times when Law found the way Penguin (and Shachi and Bepo) could read him almost effortlessly frustrating. He hadn't decided if this was one of those times yet.

"Does he?" Law challenged. While Shachi usually had no issues making his opinions clear, there were times where Law heavily suspected he was simply enduring things to help his nakama feel better. Alongside Penguin and Bepo, Shachi was the only one to know why Law occasionally got an itch to braid hair, and it would be just like the ginger to let it happen just so he could feel better.

"Yes, he does," Penguin retorted, leaning forwards on the chair. Two legs parted company slightly with the floor and Law flinched forwards, subconsciously preparing to catch him if he overbalanced. "Do you remember, back when you started your little braid attacks? Shachi started sleeping in the reccy with his hat off more often, before he even knew who was doing it."

Law remembered, finding himself bemused at the blatant invitation back then, despite Shachi's grumblings whenever he woke up with braids in his hair.

"That was before the two of you got close enough that he started his self-sacrificing nonsense," Penguin pointed out firmly. "You know, he always wanted to keep getting his hair braided after they died, but Noona was always too busy, and her fingers never stopped shaking after then, so she couldn't do it. And, well, you know Shachi. He'd never ask outright for something like that."

Law thought back to the mess Shachi once let his hair get to, before he and Penguin had staged an intervention on it, and had no choice but to begrudgingly agree.

"Talk to him about it," Penguin advised, standing back up and collecting the empty plate. Before Law could formulate a response, protest or otherwise, the older man was gone.

[7team7]

Choosing Fate: Chapter 9

A delicate balance. // Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8 

A/N: hi sorry I keep forgetting to update here lol, I should also add my snippets that I put on twitter ahh

.

.

“Don’t do anything Itachi wouldn’t,” Fugaku warned Sasuke before heading out. The small party walked slowly off into the distance and Sasuke squinted when he realized they were taking a route that would surely delay their journey. Perhaps that particular path was longer and more roundabout, but flatter and easier on Izumi’s swollen feet. He shut the door when he couldn’t make out any of their features beyond the signature dark hair.

“They have a son, that means we’re off the hook for a while, right?” Sakura joked weakly from behind him. The clan had already become obsessed with young Ishida, clamoring all over each other to hold him.

He purposely ignored thinking about producing another heir. He turned away from the door and lightly placed a hand on her shoulder, “You did well,” he praised. “You should rest now.” As much as everyone cooed over the baby, they weren’t willing to actually do the heavy lifting like Sakura. Izumi’s body was, naturally, still recovering and she needed all the substantial help she could get.

Sakura chuckled lightly to hide her shyness, “I’m not the one who had the baby, but thanks. And how are you feeling about it?” This new development seemed to push Itachi onto an even higher pedestal in Fugaku’s eyes even if the sex of the baby was completely random.

Sasuke shrugged, “I’m an uncle now.” He didn’t want to think about it much beyond that.

.

They settled into separate routines: Sakura resumed her regular training with Tsunade and Sasuke picked up his father’s work wherever he could. Because of the extra work, he couldn’t walk her to her destination anymore. It was strange how little they saw of each other. It felt like every time Sasuke put one thing down, Sakura picked another one up and he was getting restless. He expected to appreciate the peace and quiet, but he was feeling a little ignored. He was lonely. He looked for hints of pink and green everywhere, and grew frustrated when they were nowhere to be found.

“Going out?” he’d ask her after she prepared breakfast and packed a lunch for him. He didn’t even ask her to, but she always did it and always included his favorites. Having the house to themselves meant they didn’t have to compete with everyone else’s food preferences, and even then, she added extra spice to his food and never offered him sweets because she knew he’d always turn them down. These small acts of intimacy were strange to him.

“Yes, don’t worry about it,” she’d answer pleasantly in that sweet voice of hers. But something in the tone of her voice was reassuring, as if she assumed he wanted to make sure she’d be out of his hair when in fact, it was the opposite. Would it kill her to stay home and rest one day? No, it wouldn’t, just like he knew no patients would die without her flitting over to her mentor’s home for the day. But he wasn’t sure how to say all that, so he stewed in his own bitterness. He watched her back as she walked out the front door, taking note of how long her hair had become.

All the extra time alone made him question his own daily activities. Why did he follow in his father’s footsteps again? As he braved the more-chaotic-than-ever marketplace on his own again, he couldn’t come up with an answer. The face reflected back at him from his family’s shiny knives seemed to laugh at him. He looked like an Uchiha, but lately, he wasn’t feeling like one.

Sakura didn’t seem to have this problem.

.

Their routines were suddenly disrupted and they both were forced to stay indoors when a storm threatened to dump water and lightning all over the village. Sakura peered out the window at the heavy gray clouds rolling in, “It’s not even worth trying today if I get caught in the rain.” She didn’t know it, but Tsunade was curled up on the couch with a cup of sake, already expecting Sakura to stay home.

He had plans to sell some things at the market, but surely this weather would drive all the customers away. It seemed that he had to stay put too. Sakura proudly declared she was going to catch up on some reading, so he took the time to look over their financial documents to make sure all was in order. Maybe Father was just getting old, but he thought he noticed some discrepancies last time he glanced at them.

Sasuke didn’t realize how long he’d been sitting in one position until a clap of thunder and lightning stirred him. He was sitting on one side of the table and looked up at Sakura, expecting her to still be turning pages in her book.

Instead, she was draped across the book, totally asleep. In the fading light, her hair became a dusky rose and it spilled across the table like a pile of petals. He tsked to himself, what a silly woman. How could that be comfortable?

He stood up, readying himself to wash up before bed. But he hardly took one step out of the kitchen area before looking back at his wife.

Her neck would become sore. And she would become cold. What was he going to do, leave her there all night?

He sighed. His decision was made. Gently, as not to wake her up, he slid his hands under her body and scooped her up to carry her to the actual bed. She was light, but he stiffened briefly when he felt her nestle into his chest. He held her a little tighter, a little closer. She was warm, too. He wouldn’t say he breathed in her scent, but he couldn’t help but notice the way she smelled of fragrant jasmine tea when he was this close.

She didn’t stir again until he had finally, delicately, placed her on their bed.

“Wha’s going on?” she mumbled, still half asleep.

“I’m taking you to bed,” he said quietly.

She turned over onto her side and Sasuke draped the covers over her body, bringing them all the way up to her chin. She settled deeper into the mattress and before knocking out again, sighed, “Ah, that’s nice, darling.”

Sasuke was wide awake all night, acutely aware of the warm body slumbering next to him.  

.

Something snapped two days later.

He was watching from their bed as she tidied up some of her hair ornaments on the dresser. Her hands were dainty, but he knew they had become a bit rough lately. Her head was bowed and she couldn’t see him, but he was staring very intently.

Why was the curve of his wife’s neck so alluring? When did he start noticing these things? It was just skin, just a body part. But no matter how hard he tried convincing himself that her anatomy didn’t affect him, his mouth still became dry and his heart still beat a little faster.

When she started changing her clothes in front of him, he had to speak up.

“What are you doing?” he asked, more surprised than anything, but his words came out with a harsh edge.

“Uh, changing? I’d like to get into my sleep clothes so I can go to bed soon.” It was incredibly sweet of Sasuke to bring her to bed the other night (something she couldn’t help but blush over), but she woke up feeling a bit yucky that she was wearing her normal clothes in bed.

“Next time give me a warning,” he grumbled, turning away to stare at a random spot on the wall.

Sakura walked over and put a hand on his broad shoulder, but he jerked at her sudden touch. She frowned down at him, “Why are you so jumpy?” She really only meant to talk to him.

“It’s too quiet in here,” he grumbled.

She pulled back as if she’d been burned, “Sorry, maybe we can get a chaperone again.”

“There’s no need to be dramatic.”

“Oh please,” she snorted, “try taking your own advice.” For at least a week he had been leaving the house with a dramatic flourish of his cloak.

“Don’t be difficult.”

She laughed without humor, “Really, Sasuke? I think you’re the difficult one.”

His eyes narrowed, “What makes you say that?” For someone who often babbled when nervous, she sounded quite sure of herself.

She smiled to herself and it filled his chest with an unnamed emotion. “I think you miss me,” she said haughtily.

“And just why the hell would you think that?” he growled, standing up and walking closer to her, invading her space as if he scared her anymore.

She continued even as she got backed up against a wall, “You like spending time with me. You like it when we’re together. So you get grumpy when we’re apart and it’s easier to blame me for being somewhere else than to accept that you miss your wife.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh really? Well, then how could I? You barely ever talk to me!”

“There’s no need.” He thought their communication had been fairly decent, to be honest. What was there to talk about?

“You’re sullen and closed off.”

“And you’re annoying,” he seethed before swiftly leaning down to pin her against the wall and kiss her harshly. She made a small noise of surprise, but didn’t struggle. His eyes were screwed shut, and hers first widened in surprise, then fluttered closed. She would have evaporated if he looked at her with that intense stare she had come to know so well.  

She wasn’t very annoying to him when he was kissing her, she thought hazily. Rather, when they were kissing, he was very attentive. Despite his earlier stormy aura, he pulled back so his kiss wasn’t so bruising and his hand carded tenderly through her hair.

“Sasuke-kun,” she whispered against his lips.

A shiver wracked his body. She had never called him that before. He licked his lips and pulled away to look into her seaglass eyes. “What is it, my wife?”

She looped her arms around his neck and scratched lightly at his scalp, “I just want you to talk to me.” She felt his shoulders relax even more. Hm, who would’ve thought to use her womanly charms to get her husband to open up?

“About?”

“Anything, everything. You and me, maybe.”

He contemplated this and sighed. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

“Like what?”

His brow creased deeply before he rendered her breathless with another kiss. “Like this. You’re the one who moved here. My life was supposed to stay the same. But no, you’ve come in and changed it all.”

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing.” She never wanted to intrude, but if he stayed in the same place for his entire life, Sakura had a feeling Sasuke would be deeply unhappy.

“No,” he breathed deeply, “it’s not. It’s just hard to get used to.” He used to think he always knew what to do, there was always someone to show him his path, but now he wasn’t so sure.

“I just want us to be comfortable with each other.”

He pressed himself impossibly closer to her and smirked, “You’re feeling pretty comfortable right now.”  

She gasped hotly, “Excuse me, I didn’t realize I married a pervert.”

“I’m just telling you what’s on my mind, I thought that’s what you wanted,” he said before capturing her lips again in a searing kiss.  

She pushed him away for a moment and became serious, “Ask me. Just ask me what I want.”

He studied her face carefully before nodding. “Okay, okay. I will.”

And then before wrapping her arms around him again to resume the kiss, she whispered, “Thank you.”

.

.

A/N: Aliss chose the baby name so thank her :* also when writing the Argument scene I kept laughing thinking about those memes that are like ooh I know you wanna kiss me so bad!! 

[writearctic]

Denying Love - oneshot

⚤︎ doctor!Yoongi & female reader

✔︎ uh… pretty much angst (but pt. 2 will have loads of fluff)

⌨︎ 3.6k

pt. 1 | pt. 2

hi hi !! this is part one of a two part soulmate series for yoongi. i really wanted this whole thing to be one part, but life decide to become busy… so here’s part one!

In high school, you met your soulmate. 

Well, you didn’t meet him per say. All soulmates dream of their special someone. Not consistently however. When about to meet for the first time, the couple would both experience vivid dreams- or rather, soon-to-be memories. But you were lacking clarity. 

You see, in these soulmate dreams, according to your best friend, Nayeon, you are supposed to see your soulmate’s face. You never have. And at 25, you were facing the reality that you never would. Nayeon met her soulmate when she was 21 at a college party. “I saw him so clearly in my dreams. And then, when I really saw him, it was so much clearer. Like deja vu- better a thousand times better.” You recalled her saying. Your dreams were so clear that some days when you’d wake, you’d realize how real they felt. You’d see his back, his shoulders, everything but his face. 

Being a fashion designer, you were busy but on your own schedule. Since you were fairly new at the full time job thing, you signed with a brand called Ailahns (aiee-lawns) as a designer. However, you were a “behind-the-scenes” designer which meant you wouldn’t fully receive credit. It worked for you as someone who needed the pay and didn’t fathom the spotlight. You’d frequent the places you’d see in your illusions during the free time you had hoping to meet up with your love. 

At 25, you were past the average age of meeting your other half. When you first began experiencing these vivid dreams in high school, you were thrilled. But now, having those ether-real views of someone who seemed like a fantasy almost daily was starting to take a toll on your health. 

“Does it ever stop hurting?” You sobbed into your best friend’s shoulder. 

“No y/n. You just start getting used to it,” replied Nayeon. She brought her hand to your head and began dabbing off the sweat with a wet cloth. “Look, y/n… I think you should- Y/N!!“ 

Your eyes flickered open then harshly shut. You slowly opened your eyes once more only this time, you were aware of the bright lights and the beeps of the monitor to your side. 

"Y/n, you’re awake.” Nayeon took your hand as she spoke. 

“What happ- am I ok?” You couldn’t remember for the life of you what happened. 

“You had another dream again. It must’ve been bad since you fainted on me.” Nayeon’s hand gripped yours a little tighter. “The doctor said you just had a panic attack and you’re likely not getting enough good sleep. I think he’s right too since you’ve been having more aggressive dreams and all." 

"I don't… I don’t remember,” you muttered. “What?” “Nayeon, I don’t remember the dreams. I don’t remember him. I didn’t even figure out who he was or what his face looked like! I’ll probably be alone for life now!” Your voice was shaking along with your body; you were panicking. Is this what you planned for me, fate? To be alone and in pain? 

“Y/n, calm down!” Nayeon called for a nurse as your EKG machine showed your heartbeat dramatically rising. 

“What happened?” Nurse Kang asked as she barged into the room. 

“I’m not sure.” Tears brimmed your eyes as Nayeon continued speaking. “She just woke up and was completely fine. Then, all of a sudden she just-" The door swung open, and your breath finally returned. Your heartbeat immediately dropped to normal. 

"Doctor Min, are you alright?” Nurse Kang asked as she saw the distressed doctor tumble into your room. 

“Wh-at happ-ened?” The doctor panted as he stepped closer to you. His gaze quickly shifted from you to the nurse. 

“It’s you.” Your eyes widened as your heartbeat steadily rose again out of joy and disbelief. 

“I’m a doctor if that’s what you mean,” he responded rather coldly. “No. I-I mean, you’re him.” All of your dreams came back to you the moment he walked into your room. This must be the deja vu Nayeon talks about, you thought.

“I’m sorry, Miss. I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else.” He turned away from you and quickly spoke to the nurse. “I’ll get Doctor Park since I’m causing her stress." 

"Actually, sir, you managed to calm her heartbeat by simply walking in. Perhaps you should switch to her doctor." 

"For my sake,” his stern gaze pierced your heart as he looked towards you as you trembled. This isn’t right, you thought. Love can’t be this cruel. “I can’t treat someone like her. I can’t care for someone who thinks I’m someone else. It’s not good for her health either." 

He turned to leave but paused when he heard your voice. "Min Yoongi, that’s your name. It’s beautiful,” you muttered a little too loud. 

“Y/n, how did you… he’s-” Nayeon wasn’t given the chance to finish when Yoongi slammed the door on your words. “-my soulmate." 

Your doctor was kind and professional, and you thought he did his job well. However, he wasn’t the person you wanted to see. Every time Doctor Park opened your door, your heart would speed up only to fall at the realization that he wasn’t Doctor Min. He requested you to stay for two more nights in case the dreams returned. 

They never did. As a precaution, he required that you see a psychologist to help you. “Here’s his card. Our doctors pass his name to their patients; he’s a favorite among patients and the doctors.” He gave you the card as you laid in bed. “I’m hoping you don’t come back.” He smirked as he walked away. 

“What does he mean by that?” You asked Nurse Kang. 

“Doctor Park says that often. He means it’d be sad to see you back in a hospital again.” She sighed as you nodded your head. “Here are your night pills; I’ll see you tomorrow to help you check out.” 

After taking the pills, you instantly fell asleep. But, rather than seeing Yoongi in your restless slumber, your dream that night was blurred- one you couldn’t see much of at all. It was nothing like the dreams that formally attacked you in the night. This one was calm and moved slowly. Someone, a male, reached towards your shoulder and gently grazed it as he tucked you in. It was nothing like the tormenting nightmares you’d been experiencing since you were a teenager. As you woke up to the shallow beeps of the EKG to your right, you sighed in content. I’ve never felt so rested before. 

That morning when Nayeon came to help you check out, you felt calm and relieved that your night terrors were finally gone. You felt perfect. That is until Dr. Min walked by you, not bothering to spare a look. You peered past Nayeon and traced his figure as it melted away. Your heart felt a soft but sharp ppang.

“Y/n. Y/n!” Your friend called.

“Hmm?” 

“Are you alright? Do you feel ill again?” 

“Ah, no. Sorry. I was lost in thought. Are we ready to go?” 

“You just need to sign the release papers.” She ushered you the papers followed by a pen to sign. 

“Thank you, girls. And y/n, I hope you recover well,” the receptionist smiled brightly as if she were trying to help your now ruined mood. Nayeon and you thanked her and headed to her car. “Are you alright?” 

“I’ve not even been out of the hospital for five minutes and you’re already worried,” you laughed. 

“No, y/n. I saw you look at him as he passed by. Are you alright?” Her question was firmer now. Your gaze shifted from the window to your hands that scrunched the fabric of your shirt. 

“Yes, Nayeon. I’m nervous about my future now. I mean, I’ve never felt so free, yet so attached at the same time. It feels like part of me is missing. A part I never even had.” 

“Maybe this is fate’s way of telling you to focus on other things. Like your career,” she suggested. You hummed in response as her car left the only place you’d ever see your soulmate. Or so you thought. 

The dreams began in his sophomore year of high school. 

At first, he neglected them. Sure, it was nice to know there’s someone destined for him, but unlike his friends’ dreams, he couldn’t entirely see you. Your face was a mystery to him. After a while, he became obsessed with finding out who you were. He went to Jin, a friend of his, who was studying psychology in college. 

“I need to figure out who she is,” Yoongi pleaded. 

“I don’t know if you’re meant to, Yoongi,” responded Jin. “The fact you’ve not seen her at all yet is likely something fate has decided for you.” 

“But, I don’t want to be alone.” A tear dropped from Yoongi’s gentle lashes. The thought of having the same dream forever would only be a harsh reminder that he was indeed alone. 

“Yoongi, you’re gonna be a doctor, man! There’s so much more to life than love. You wouldn’t even remember the word ‘lonely’ since your days will be crowded with people in your reality. And as a doctor, shouldn’t you know that no pill takes away a broken heart?” 

Jin was right. There are limited opportunities for him to take his mind off you. Throughout college, Yoongi worked hard. As a medical intern, he asked questions frequently and worked diligently under his elders. Jin really was right, he felt; however, Yoongi took Jin’s advice too far. Rather than adding more work to his schedule, he filled his schedule into only work throughout college. 

“Yoongi-hyung, you shouldn’t overwork yourself,” Taehyung remarked.

“I’m a doctor, Tae. I’ll know better than anyone when I’ve reached my limit,” he growled. Yoongi was not the social butterfly he was in high school. His world was his work- until he graduated. After graduation, Yoongi was offered a doctor promotion in the hospital he interned with. Of course, he gladly accepted. Being able to control his hours and truly be in charge of patients, Yoongi felt powerful. It boosted his pride- a little too much. 

Jin, now a licensed psychologist, invited, or rather forced, Yoongi to his office. Yoongi, without hesitation, stretched out along Jin’s emerald green, leather couch while Jin sat on his modern POANG chair. 

“So, how are you?” Jin started. 

“I’m fine. A bit busy, but fine.” 

“And how are your dreams?” 

“The same. I always see her but never her. Some mornings, I’ll wake up in a cold sweat yet feel overly hot and tired despite at least 6 hours of sleep,” replied Yoongi. 

“Are you eating and drinking well?” 

“Yes.” 

“Good. When was the last time you woke up in the night due to your dreams?” 

“It happens at least once a week.” 

“And remind me- what does she look like?” 

“I’m not sure.” 

“I don’t mean her face, Yoongi. I know you can’t see that.” Jin chuckled. “How about her hair maybe. Her figure? Her hands?” 

“I don’t know, Jin. And honestly, I don’t care.” 

“How come?” Jin’s expression changed. His eyebrows curled together, and he stopped vigorously scribbling notes on his pad that tended to be scribbles of butterflies or ladybugs. 

“I stopped minding her. I might sound unlikely or impossible to you, Jin. But, I see her in a way that I don’t. I recognize her since she’s the only thing I’ll dream of again.” 

“So, you’ve lost hope of ever seeing her thus why you don’t register her presence in your illusions, right?” 

“I gave up hope last time I was in this office and now you want me to get it back?” 

“Yes.” 

“What kind of psychologist are you?” Yoongi was tense. He sat up from the couch and stared into Jin’s eyes. 

“One who cares about his friend.” 

Yoongi scoffed. “Since when?” 

“Forever. You might not know it anymore seeing how your schedule’s fairly packed, but we take the time to ask you if you are, despite already knowing the answer.” Jin or someone from their friend group would always text Yoongi plans they made to get together. Yoongi denied all invites. “You’re so busy, Yoongi, that you’ve lost yourself. When I said to make yourself busy, I didn’t mean make yourself unavailable.” Jin insisted. “And I never once told you to forget her. I wanted you to see her as a goal you’d have to truly live to achieve.” 

“Bullshit.” Yoongi began pacing from wall to wall running his hands through his hair. 

“I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you!” 

“And I’m seriously trying to avoid it!” Yoongi threw his hands in the air. 

“Just sit down!” 

“Why? So you can lead me into messing up my life?” 

“Are you insane, Yoongi?” 

“Try me.” 

“It is my job to guide people into a better, safer, place. I under no circumstance asked you to lose yourself. Yet alone her.” 

“As a doctor,” Yoongi scoffed as he mocked Jin’s words from their last visit. “Shouldn’t you know you can’t lose something you’ve never had?” Yoongi sneered at him. 

“You’ve lost the one thing you did have Yoongi: hope for her.” Jin stood from his chair and looked at his watch. “Our session is over.” 

“Finally,” breathed Yoongi. 

“Oh, Yoongi, as your friend, would you like to come over and watch Bongo Cat memes with me and the guys?” Yoongi slammed the door. “You didn’t answer!” Jin shouted back. “Guess that means he’s a maybe.” 

_The more I trust others the more they mislead me. _Yoongi was pissed. He mistook Jin’s advice and led himself to forget you- the most important person to him. I can’t even see her anymore. He returned to the hospital rather than his home that night. He didn’t want to be alone. He was afraid he’d fall asleep and face the reality that he’d let you go. 

“Doctor Min, you’re back.” Nurse Kang was surprised to see him back on his night off. 

“I figured someone could take my help or company,” Yoongi shrugged as he picked up the patient files. He pretended to look through them, but he was still lost in thought. I don’t even know her name. How can I- 

“Doctor Min. It’s a shock to see you here tonight, but I’m glad you are,” Doctor Park announced. “Grandpa Choi has been refusing to take a shower tonight. He says he won’t take one unless you, and strictly you, help him. Apparently, you’re the gentlest.” 

Yoongi hummed and nodded at his senior and started towards the man’s room. 

“Doctor Park? Your wife is on the phone. She’s telling me it’s rather urgent,” Nurse Han insisted. The doctor sighed and walked towards his office, “I’ll take it in my office.” 

Yoongi was already towards the end of the hall when someone shouted for a nurse. He watched Nurse Kang race towards a room and knew she would take care of it. He opened the door to the staff stairwell and climbed up. Ppang. “What the-” He leaned against the wall as he clutched his chest with his free hand. Suddenly, you were in his mind. He wasn’t dreaming so why could he see you? 

Although you were blurred in his thoughts, he saw everything around your silhouette. You were standing on a platform- a runway of sorts he figured- surrounded by LED lights and camera flashes. His heart was beating hard and fast. He turned down the stairs and yanked the door open. He ran down the hall to the room Nurse Kang had stepped in just moments ago. He burst the door open. 

“Doctor Min, are you alright?” Nurse Kang asked him the second he lunged into the room. 

“Wh-at happ-ened?” He panted as he stepped closer to you. His heartbeat stilled and echoed the beats on your EKG machine. 

It’s you. 

And you were beautiful. He’d never seen your face and here he was believing he didn’t want to. But how could he live without seeing your precious face? His eyes met your gentle eyes and a soft smile curled on your lips. Shit. He felt his face getting hot. He quickly turned to Nurse Kang and took the file from her hands. He embedded himself into your chart. ‘Name: Y/f/n. Age: 25. Concerns: trouble sleeping, vivid dreams, fatigue, fainting spells.’ 

“It’s you.” Your voice was soft, and it made him weak. This isn’t real, Yoongi. She’s not here. This isn’t her. He composed himself and briefly met your lovely eyes. He coughed; “I’m a doctor if that’s what you mean.” 

“No. I-I mean, you’re him.” Your delicate words made his breath hitch. Would you stop talking?! He was angry. He changed. Not purposely of course. But he didn’t want someone, let alone you, to come into his life and ruin his perfect career. He didn’t know how to trust others enough for love. He closed your file roughly and shoved it towards Nurse Kang. 

“I’m sorry, Miss. I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else.” His eyes tore away from you and faced the nurse. “I’ll get Doctor Park since I’m causing her stress.” He made it appear like he was worried about you, a patient, and rushed here to see if Nurse Kang could handle whatever reason the girl seated beside you yelled for help. 

“Actually, sir, you managed to calm her heartbeat by simply walking in. Perhaps you should change to her doctor.” And be around you more?! No way, his mind screamed at him. 

“For my sake,” he turned to look at you once more with a cold grin, “I can’t treat someone like her. I can’t care for someone who thinks I’m someone else. It’s not good for her health either.” 

He started towards the door and placed his hand on the handle only to stop when he heard your voice again. 

“Min Yoongi, that’s your name. It’s beautiful.” He shivered as his name slipped from your perfect lips. He looked down at his coat; he wasn’t wearing his badge. Shit; now I find you, and now I don’t want you. 

The girl to your left spoke: “Y/n, how did you…” Don’t you dare say it! His face was red in anger. His hand that rested on the door handle was now sweaty. His pulse was beginning to rise. He didn’t feel safe now. Your friend slowly turned towards him, eyes wide. “He’s-” 

The sound of the door slamming muffled all chances of her being heard. He was so harsh that for a second he wondered if he broke it. But that didn’t matter to him now. What mattered was getting away- from you. He leaned back on the door for a moment to catch his breath. He stood there a moment too long as he heard your trembling voice breathe: “My soulmate.” 

That’s it. He darted towards the floor’s lobby. “Nurse Han, sign me out. I’m going to catch up on some sleep,” he ordered. He was already down the public stairwell so that Nurse Han couldn’t stop him. 

The next morning when he woke, he realized the dreams were gone. He no longer had to see you. What a relief! He flopped back on his feathered mattress and sighed. He reached for his phone and called the office. He asked for a day of absence to rest. 

He called Jin next: “Jin! Let’s get together. You, me, everyone else. I’m finally free!” That night, he met with all 6 of his friends. He was carefree, and he’d never felt so alive. 

“So~ care to share how you got over her?” Namjoon asked as he sipped his glass of soju. 

“I denied her as my soulmate. A flat-out rejection.” 

“You what?!” Jin choked on his cola. “You met her?” Jimin prodded. “Wait, you rejected her?” Jungkook questioned. 

"Yea. But, I regret it. I panicked over the idea- no, the reality of it actually being her. I was lost in the idea of what we haven’t been to even see the picture of what we could be. I was angry and wanted nothing to do with someone who has brought me nothing but pain." 

“You want to get her back?” Jimin asked. 

“Yes. Yes, I really do. I’ve not even given this love a chance.” 

“Don’t worry, Yoongi-hyung,” a grinning Taehyung began, “We’ll help you get her back!” 

When he returned to his shift at the hospital the next day, he subconsciously avoided your room. It wasn’t until the end of his shift that he found whatever courage to finally face you. As he creaked your door open, his tired eyes beamed upon your sleeping figure. His steps were cautious and slow as he walked towards you. “Please forgive me, y/n. I need to learn how to trust others before trusting you and our love,” he whispered. His fingers brushed against your shoulder as he pulled the bed cover over you. 

The following day he unfortunately saw you. He walked past, not even glancing towards you. He knew you’d turn to look at him. He went to his office, closed the door, and slid to the floor. He sobbed. His heart hurt. “I don’t have the courage to fix my selfish mistakes. I’m not even sure how to,” he cried. 

He reached for his mobile and dialed Jin. “J..in.. I messed up.” 

“I know, Yoongi,” the phone spoke. 

“I want to.. No.. I need to change now, Jin.” 

“You will, Yoongi. You will.” 

He felt like a coward hiding from you as he watched you leave out his office window.

[mithranqueersmusings]

The Night Before VII

Chapter: 7/15

Rating: T

Summary: Ringo hangs around after the club closes and meets a stranger.

Tags: Smut, Slow Burn

Pairing: George Harrison/Ringo Starr (Background McLennon)

AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here

Ringo couldn't deny that he felt rather disappointed when himself and George had to leave the comfort of his home to trek through the cold to the party. They already seemed to be having such a good time on their own, singing along to music and asking more intrusive questions. He wasn't entirely sure when they'd finished as many bottles as they had, but there was hardly any alcohol left so naturally they had to move on to greener pastures. It was ridiculous to think that they might have struggled getting drunk enough, George's face was flushed and Ringo couldn't stop laughing. He fumbled with his keys as they braced the cold, part of him wanted to get an Uber but he figured it would be a waste of money considering how close it was, plus it would greatly increase the risk of one of them throwing up.

"You look nice, by the way." George mumbled, leaning against the wall while Ringo locked up "I forgot to say."

"Thanks." Ringo slid his keys into his pocket, whether he'd still have them by the end of the night was anybody's guess "So do you, but you knew that."

On the walk they spoke about nothing in particular, George explained just how few people he knew at this party so he'd be going in just as nervous as Ringo, although Ringo found that hard to believe. He hadn't been to a house party since he was young, so it was intimidating to say the least.

Turning the corner onto the final street, Ringo could already hear the booming music and the chattering people; the ball of anxiety he'd been fending off came back in full force, maybe this hadn't been such a good idea.

George seemed to notice Ringo's sudden change in temperament, it didn't take a genius to figure out from his short replies and the intense look of dread in his eyes. Passing by a house, George pulled Ringo by his wrist into the darkness of the alley between the two buildings and locked their lips in a kiss. Ringo melted into it willingly, George cupping his cold face with his warm hands. In an instant all his fears were gone, blown away into the night. George pressed his tongue in for only a moment, the alcohol on his breath was strong, then pulled away with a concerned look.

"Stop freaking yourself out." George said somewhat firmly "It's just a party."

Ringo let out a heavy sight "You're right, sorry. I dunno what's come over me."

"I'd make a sex joke but I don't think now is the time." George smirked.

They continued down the street for a few more minutes until they were confronted with the bustling house: the front garden hosted a few individuals with drinks in hand, the front door was left ajar so the two of them stepped inside easily but there was little room to move. The stairs were crammed with people both sitting and standing, shouting over the music in attempt to make conversation. George led them to the kitchen, following the music in an attempt to find the heart of the party, which wasn't any less crowded. He gave Ringo a look which didn't say much at all, a mixture of noncommittal confusion.

Just as Ringo feared, the music wasn't exactly to his taste, but he was drunk enough to focus on the heavy bassline and make an effort at dancing. George led them through the crowd to a relatively empty space, grabbing two bottles of unopened beer on his way without a second glance to check who they belonged to. Ringo accepted it gladly, more so than anything because it gave him something to do with his hands.

On the positive end of things, the tight space meant the two of them had to stand fairly close to one another; they'd brush together as they danced, making Ringo think fondly of their time at the club. Occasionally George would look around the crowd as though he was searching for someone, but never seemed to find whoever he was looking for. Ringo could hardly see above the heads, not that he had anyone else he wanted to look at besides George. Even in this undesirable situation George was still able to move in a compelling way, his hair tossing around as he danced.

The music continued to boom on for a few songs, the both of them finishing their beers along the way. Suddenly George leaned in to Ringo's ear.

"I'm gonna try and find a bathroom, wait here." George shouted, pulling away with a small smile and vanishing into the crowd.

Exactly what Ringo had been afraid of, but he wouldn't allow himself to worry, it wouldn't be long before George was back, surely. He made his best attempt to enjoy the music, although it was difficult with the people bumping into him from every angle. Every so often a group of people would need to get from one side of the room to the next, which meant even more unwanted physical contact. Ringo was beginning to remember what he'd hated so much about house parties.

As if things couldn't get much worse, a girl broke away from her group of friends to start dancing with Ringo. George couldn't get back fast enough. She smiled at Ringo eagerly and moved in far too close, but he knew better than to be unnecessarily rude to a stranger. For all he knew, this could be her house.

"Hey." She yelled in Ringo's ear "I haven't seen you before."

Ringo tried to keep his face from contorting in discomfort "I'm a friend of George's."

"Who?" She increased her volume further, her voice was shrill.

"George." Ringo repeated as though it would make any difference, perhaps shouting his name would summon him for a rescue.

"Do you wanna find a room?" She asked with no further explanation, remaining close to Ringo's face waiting for an answer.

"Uh, no thanks." Ringo tried to remain polite, surely she'd get the picture.

"That's alright, we can just stay here." Apparently not.

She moved away from Ringo's face at least, but nowhere near far enough. Of all the bad things that could've happened tonight, Ringo hadn't factored in this potentiality. Somehow the music seemed louder now and far less enjoyable. She'd get bored eventually, or so Ringo thought, it wasn't even a few minutes later before she was trying to pull Ringo in for a kiss. He dodged her rather dramatically, knocking back into some people behind him which caused a domino effect and a small commotion; Ringo used the opportunity as best he could, freeing himself from the girl and hurrying off in search of George. Where the fuck was he?

He felt utterly helpless pushing through the sea of people in search of George, popping his head into every room he came across. It didn't help that Ringo didn't know anyone here, nor the fact that few people would've known George to point Ringo in the right direction. Heading up the stairs and beginning to feel rather overwhelmed, Ringo spotted George tucked away in a corner talking to some guy. Ringo hurried over, catching George's eye who smiled at him warmly.

"Ringo!" George announced his presence "Where did you go?"

"I could ask you same thing." Ringo was calming down marginally, the claustrophobic atmosphere wasn't helping.

"You alright?" George asked, his face suddenly morphing with concern, ignoring the man beside him completely.

"Need some air I think." Ringo responded, the severity of the statement only dawning on him further.

George nodded "Sure, sure. Let's find a room."

The words practically haunted Ringo at this point, but he followed George all the same as he explored through the house in search of an empty space. They had to go up another flight of cramped stairs before they found what they were looking for, it provided enough distance from the music that Ringo could finally hear his own thoughts again.

George locked the door behind them and settled on the bed as though it were his own. Ringo tried not to think too hard about the fact it was a stranger's room, ignoring any personal touches dotted around the space. He sat on the bed next to George, anxiety still racing through his body.

Ringo wasn't sure what to say, before he could even think of a conversation starter George was already leaning in for a kiss. Instinctively, Ringo pulled away, and George didn't press any further.

"What's up?" George asked, talking louder than necessary.

"Some girl tried to get off with me." Ringo blurted out with little grace, feeling like a child complaining to a teacher.

George paused and drew his brows together in thought "Seriously? Why're you so shaken up, I thought you liked girls." He nudged Ringo lightly but seemed to regret it instantly.

Ringo let out a weak laugh "Just threw me, I think. Forgot how hectic these things were."

"Well we don't have to do anything, we can just talk." George explained with a sweet smile.

He was far from relaxed, but George was helping him get there. Ringo let out a deep breath and tried to calm himself further. It wasn't often that drinking made him so anxious, but it had been known to happen. Looking at George, the intensity of his eyes and the concern on his face forced Ringo to speak without much thought.

"I know I'm pretty drunk right now, and I'll probably regret saying this in the morning, but... I like you George, and I'm trying so hard not to mess anything up but I feel like I am anyway." Ringo rambled, not having the self control to stop himself.

George looked at him for a while, his sharp face unreadable. Shit. He'd really fucked it now... Ringo began debating an exit strategy, could he survive a jump from a three storey window? Probably not.

After what felt like eternity, George pulled Ringo in close and kissed his lips tenderly. It wasn't as heated as any of their previous kisses, it was almost sweet. For a moment Ringo worried George was too drunk to understand what he'd even said, but he pulled away with Ringo's face still pressed in his hands.

"You are drunk, so I'm not gonna hold it against you. But you've gotta chill the fuck out Ringo, okay?" George spoke firmly but not harshly.

Ringo nodded, savouring the feeling of George's skin against his own "Okay."

George smiled at him, rubbed his thumb over Ringo's cheek for a brief second before pulling his hands away completely.

"We can ditch the party if you want. It's pretty shit if I'm being honest." George offered.

Ringo shook his head "No, don't be silly. That'd be such a waste of alcohol. We came here for a good time, so let's have one."

"You sure?" George asked unconvinced.

"I'm sure." Ringo affirmed "I'll be fine, just don't run off again. Alright?"

"Alright." George laughed softly, already standing up from the bed and heading over to the door.

Ringo followed behind him closely as they once again worked through the plethora of people, spilling a couple of drinks in their wake. The kitchen was just as crowded as before, but Ringo felt considerably safer with George at his side. They picked up where they left off, dancing close with one another to the repetitive beat of the music.

Just when Ringo found himself returning to normal, he spotted a familiar face in the crowd. It was that girl. He almost shuddered as she smiled at him, waving drunkenly as she whispered to her friends. George followed Ringo's gaze then moved in closer to his ear.

"That her?" George asked, his voice a little deeper.

"Yeah." Ringo replied, unable to take his eyes off her.

"Well, we better make it clear that you're unavailable tonight."

[printscript]

Crashing Waves - Ch. 3

Pairing: Josuyasu Words: 2045 Rating: T AU: None Warning: None Summary: A slow burn romance about two best friends and their walks on Morioh’s beach. A/N: I’m planning on writing this for a while, so stay tuned.

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20071975/chapters/51069268

--

They came back to the beach almost as often as they sat on each other’s beds on restless nights. Wandering the sand together became something to do instead of worrying about unknown dangers, and they found that they enjoyed it even more than the cafés they usually occupied. If Josuke believed in God, which he didn’t; if God existed, he wouldn’t have let someone like Yoshikage Kira into Morioh. But if he believed in a god, he might have believed that God made that beach just for the two of them, and for the two of them alone. It felt like their hideout, a place where they could be together with the world. A place where the sun would shine for them and the ocean would call to them and tell them that they were safe. The sand felt tangible, and the wind chilled them to the bones, enough to feel the subtle warmth of every breath and feel so alive that it felt like another reality.

Almost every day through the end of August they strolled the beach. They walked there so much that it was almost expected of them. His mother often asked Josuke if he was going back down to the beach instead of asking him if he was going out in general. She seemed happy he was doing something relaxing since being released from the hospital. However, today was Saturday, which meant that they got lunch at Tonio’s in the afternoon. They had been doing it since Josuke had gotten discharged, even if they had to have Tomoko drive them because the walk took a little too much strength out of Josuke. The tradition started at the hospital. Tonio sent Josuke lunch more than a few times, and always urged them to come and grab a bite. So now, they walked the distance without trouble, stepping up to the restaurant's door and easing it open. The bell chimed gently, drowned by the chatter of Saturday’s regulars.

Tonio’s little restaurant had gained some popularity in the short time it had existed, which meant that staff had to be hired, and the boys rarely got to see the Italian chef anymore, because he was always in the back (except to judge a person for their meal, of course). That didn’t mean that the food wasn’t just as good though, and they stepped up to the host stand in the entrance, Josuke looking a little restless.

“Welcome!” came an overly-cheery customer service voice from a few feet away. “Would you like the customer-based special or a regular meal today?” The waitress at the stand greeted them, about to pick up two menus if they requested regular food.

“Uh, hi, yeah, we’re friends of the owner, he’s expecting us today- Higashikata and Nijimura-?” Okuyasu said, hand on the back of his neck. “He should have take-out lunches for us, we already paid.” He didn’t bother to try to explain that Tonio made them free food sometimes, so he stuck to the excuse of having paid, in case the waitress was new and had no idea what they were talking about. That would just cause more trouble and a longer wait, and Josuke looked like he wanted to leave anyway.

Josuke had his hands in his pockets, examining some decor on the wall as he rocked back and forth on his heels. He focused on it for a moment. It was an art deco poster of some street in Rome (he only knew that detail because of the text at the bottom of the frame). There was a man and a woman, riding on the back of a light blue motorbike. She was wearing a bright red dress to match her flashy lipstick and looked very happy, like being there in Italy with that man was the best thing that had ever happened to her. Josuke figured that if she was happy there than Josuke was happiest here with Okuyasu, who gave him a sideward glance just at that moment as if he was instinctively checking up on him and making sure he was alright.

Josuke realized the concern, which lead to realizing the amount of sound in the room, and he swallowed harshly. He didn’t do well in crowded places lately. There were too many people, and while he never minded people, there was too much of a risk of a civilian getting hurt if some stand user decided to go after Josuke and Okuyasu all of a sudden. It kept Josuke tense, eyes scanning the tables for any odd movement or the hint of a stand other than Tonio’s among the babbling of voices. He felt Okuyasu put a calloused hand on his shoulder, fixing the loose strap of Josuke’s tank top. He had lost a lot of weight in the hospital, and it had only just begun to come back in the past few weeks as his mother lovingly fed him lots of protein and carbs.

“Dude, it’s alright. Relax.” Okuyasu muttered to him, sensing the boy’s unnecessary anxiety and running a thumb gently across Josuke’s skin until his eyes looked a little less sharply calculated. Okuyasu’s hand traveled down to rest comfortingly on the small of Josuke’s back as they took their bag of warm box lunches from the waitress and made their way back out the door, Okuyasu guiding Josuke carefully along.

“Sorry, man, I’m just tired again- this is normal food, right?” Josuke said, peeking under the lip of the lid and becoming overwhelmed with the smell of fresh herbs. It made his stomach flip. In excitement or nausea, he couldn’t quite tell.

Okuyasu took his hand away from Josuke’s back, looking under his lid and reveling in the scent of Italy, or at least what he thought Italy should smell like. “Yeah, it should be,” he laughed, “we don’t want you puking up your guts just yet, bro.”

“Good. I’m sure it’s tasty, Tonio is a genius.” Despite the anticipation to eat, Josuke’s appetite was fading and slowly turning into a qualm that turned in the depth of his stomach. He had to look away from the food before he threw up for real.

Okuyasu chuckled, agreeing with the sentiment, but not noticing Josuke’s physical discomfort. “Where do ya wanna eat today? It’s pretty nice out, we could go down to the beach again.”

“Our food’ll get cold by the time we get there-” Josuke stopped walking and furrowed his eyebrows, but he didn’t look upset. “I’m dizzy anyways.”

“Still on those shitty painkillers?”

“Yeah, and some awful steroids too for a few more weeks. It’s still achy all over.” He gestured to his entire left side with a general circular motion and let out a sigh. Josuke hated thinking of his injuries, but the dull pain was a constant reminder. He did his best to ignore it lately, but the evidence was still there. Sure, the hospital and the surgeons did a fairly good job of keeping his skin from deforming too much, but they could only do so much, and there were still grotesque scars along his torso and left leg, red and rough and not quite finished healing.

Okuyasu seemed to read his mind at that moment and gingerly placed his hand on Josuke’s arm. “Let’s just eat right here then.” He said. His voice dripped concern, and Josuke almost felt bad for it, like it was his fault that he was injured and had to be looked after so carefully.

“Alright.” Josuke looked up at his friend briefly. Okuyasu’s eyes were kind and completely selfless. It was only a second, but Josuke thought he suddenly understood Okuyasu and all the things he had been through; he saw so much pain and turmoil and sadness. He had believed that he understood his best friend, but seeing such a soft and sympathetic smile looking down at him through that hard jawline and tough exterior, Josuke realized that Okuyasu Nijimura had gone through more than he could imagine. Josuke averted his eyes then, feeling guilty and as though he was looking into something private, even if it was only the hint of an emotion.

They plopped themselves on a nearby bench, opened the tops of their lunches, and unwrapped plastic forks found deep in the brown paper bag. They laughed absentmindedly and ate richly flavored pasta and vegetables with the most tender chicken Josuke had probably ever tasted.

Josuke was glad to have a best friend like Okuyasu. It gave him someone to fight for. Josuke was never the honor and valor type, he just wanted to live his life, but the idea that he had someone special in this town to protect almost made fighting Yoshikage Kira worth it.

He remembered the hospital. Sitting in a hospital bed had given him a strange feeling of hopelessness, especially seeing nurses and visitors in and out of the room blending in a blur of questions. It made him numb after a while, and the only thing that kept him sane was waking up to see Okuyasu sitting in the chair next to his bed watching over him. Okuyasu. He was always there, and yet, it had been such a short time since they had met and fought in the street. It had been such a short time since they had become best friends. It had been for such a short time that Josuke could rely so heavily on anyone other than his mother.

“Bro, you’re starin’ at me.”

“Huh?” Josuke’s train of thought derailed, and he realized that the styrofoam container in front of him was still half-full of food. He didn’t feel like eating it.

“I said you were starin’ at me,” Okuyasu spoke again, but clearer this time, looking down to Josuke’s lap where his food was. “Are you gonna finish?”

“Nah, dude, you can have it.”

They sat in silence for a moment while Okuyasu finished off the rest of their lunch and stood to throw the bags away in a nearby trash can before he flopped back onto the bench with a huff. It had been very quiet for him after the hospital had said that Josuke would be alright. Okuyasu had been sure that his only friend would die, and he’d be left with no one again, someone else he loved dead. But it was alright now. Josuke was alive and breathing, and while he had been scared, Josuke was here now with him. It filled his heart with relief.

“Hey, Oku, can we go down to the beach for a minute?”

Josuke moved to stand up before Okuyasu could properly finish his thought, and it left him stuttering.

“I- uh, yeah, sure.”

Josuke smiled warmly at him.

They meandered the trail towards the beach, stopping every once in a while to let Josuke breathe for a moment. While he could walk longer distances now without getting too tired, he was still on meds, his wounds were still healing, and his body needed lots more rest before he would be running around again. Okuyasu didn’t mind the stopping though. It gave them the chance to look around and feel the ocean breeze, and besides, it was reassuring to feel this calm after all they had been through.

The sun was nearing the horizon again. They had spent longer talking and eating than Okuyasu had initially thought, but he figured that it had also been a pretty late lunch. They were standing near the water again now, and Okuyasu tentatively offered Josuke his hand, flushing when Josuke stumbled over some trivial excuse as to why they shouldn’t. Josuke looked embarrassed, his lips pursed, but Okuyasu grabbed Josuke’s hand anyways and grasped it tightly. He didn’t speak; he didn’t need to, the gesture was enough.

“You wanna go home, and like, watch a movie or something?” Josuke said softly after a few minutes. It was quiet, save the waves and the ocean gurgling.

“Not really.” Okuyasu wasn’t looking at the sunset like Josuke was, he was looking at Josuke, wanting to stare at the ocean in his eyes much more than the puddle of real water ahead of them. “I don’t really feel like zoning out in front of a screen right now.”

“Yeah… me neither.”

[littlemarvelfics]

Rogers’s Anatomy

Pairing: Steve x Reader

Word Count: about 2.3k

Warnings: alcohol, spoilers for the first two seasons of Grey’s Anatomy

A/N: Hi hello! This is for @revengingbarnes‘s challenge! My prompt was Grey’s Anatomy and I LOVED writing this. I know the title doesn’t really make sense but that’s how it goes sometimes y’all. I’m obsessed with the beginning seasons of Grey’s Anatomy so I’m considering making these a short series or something. Anyway! On with the show!

You let out a sigh, releasing the tension in your shoulders before turning back to the bartender.

“He’s gonna show, right?” you asked.

“He’ll show,” Phill responded honestly.

You slowly sipped your drink, eyes floating around the bar. It looked the same as the night you’d met him. Steve. You couldn’t help but let your mind wander to that night.

It was damp outside as it often was in this city. You had just come from the “get to know you mixer” at your new job: surgical intern at Seattle Grace Hospital. You leaned forward and ordered a classic favorite of yours- tequila, straight.

“You sure about that? You might be sorry in the morning,” the bartender commented.

“I’m always sorry in the morning,” you replied with a smirk. “But tomorrow is my first day at a brand new job, so keep ‘em coming yeah?”

You saw movement in your peripheral vision, someone sitting on the stool next to you. You hoped they were looking for the same thing you were- silence. You could see him slightly. He was dressed nicely, a tight blue shirt straining over his biceps. He had dirty blonde hair and blue eyes, a light scuff of hair covered his jaw. You were quickly disappointed when you heard the man next to you speak.

“Double scotch, single malt please,” he said to the bartender before turning to you. “Is this a good place to hang out?”

“Wouldn’t know,” you said quickly. “Never been here before.”

He seemed almost pleased with this information.

“Oh well, you know what, I haven’t either. First time in town,” he rambled. “I’m new in town. First time in Seattle. I got a job so…” he trailed off, realizing you hadn’t even glanced at him. “And you’re ignoring me.”

“I’m trying to,” you said, exaggerating your cheerfulness.

“You shouldn’t ignore me,” he responded smoothly.

“Why not?” you asked, finally facing him and taking the bait.

“Because I’m someone you need to get to know, to love,” he said, a smug grin on his face.

“So if I know you, I’ll love you?”

“Yup.”

“You just really like yourself huh?” you asked skeptically.

“Just hiding my pain,” he said, still sporting his smug grin. “So what’s your story?”

“I don’t have a story,” you said simply. “I’m just a girl in a bar.”

“Well, I’m just a guy in a bar.”

One thing led to another and you ended up back at your house. You didn’t even make it up to the bedroom, falling onto the couch. You woke up to him on the floor, throwing a pillow at him to wake him up. He groped around, likely looking for something to protect his eyes from the morning sun but instead, came back with your bra from the night before.

“This is…”

“Humiliating. On every possible level. You have to go,” you said tensely.

You watched him sit up, a blanket dropping down to reveal his toned chest.

“Why don’t you come back down here and we can pick up where we left off last night?” he said with a smirk.

“No, seriously. You have to go. I’m very late which isn’t what you want to be on your first day of work, so…” you trailed off, hoping he would get up and leave so you could get ready.

“Huh, you do actually live here,” he said.

“No. Yes. Kind of,” you replied, stumbling on your words.

“Oh,” he mumbled, pausing to look around. “It's nice. Little dusty. Odd. But it's nice. So how do you kind of live here?”

“I moved two weeks ago from Boston, it was my mother's house, I'm selling it,” you explained quickly, hoping he would leave.

“Oh, I'm sorry,” he said, getting dressed in his clothes from the night before.

“For what?” you asked, confused.

“You said was,” he responded, letting you make the same connection he did.

“Oh! My mother's not dead, she's,” you took a deep breath and ran your hand through your hair.  “You know what, we don't have to do the thing.”

“Oh. We can do anything you want,” he said with a smug smirk.

“No, the thing, exchange the details, pretend we care,” you paused and cocked your head to the side. “Look, I'm gonna go upstairs and take a shower, okay, and when I get back down here, you won't be here, so, um, goodbye… um,” you paused, forgetting the man’s name.

“Steve,” he said, sticking out his hand for you to shake.

“Steve, right,” you confirmed, telling him your name.

Steve repeated your name back to you with a smile. Moving towards you, he leaned in for what you assumed for a kiss. You gave a smile and stepped back, shaking your head.

“It was nice meeting you,” he said with a smile.

“Bye Steve,” you said, returning his smile before turning to run up the stairs for your shower.

You showered and dressed quickly- your scrubs were in your new work locker so you dressed in street clothes, heading to your car quickly. Your day went by fairly quickly. The environment was stressful but you knew how to handle it. You worked your ass off and met some new people. The day was going smoothly until it came to a screeching halt. You were rounding the corner when you saw him- the guy from last night. Steve. You made eye contact with him and you could tell he recognized you instantly. You turned around and quickly walked away, hoping you could avoid him for the rest of your shift. About an hour later, you were pulled into a stairwell and you knew you wouldn’t be able to avoid the conversation.

“Dr. Rogers,” you greeted coolly.

“Dr. Rogers?” he questioned with a raised brow. “This morning it was Steve. Now it's Dr. Rogers.”

“Dr. Rogers,” you said again. “We should pretend it never happened.”

“What never happened, you sleeping with me last night? Or you throwing me out this morning? Because both are fond memories I'd like to hold onto,” Steve joked.

“No,” you said firmly. “There will be no memories. I'm not the girl in the bar anymore, and you're not the guy. This can't exist. You get that, right?”

“You took advantage of me and now you want to forget about it,” he said, matter of factly.

“I did not take-” you started, but Steve quickly interrupted.

“I was drunk, vulnerable and good-looking and you took advantage.”

Despite your annoyance with the situation, you smiled.

“Okay, I was the one who was drunk,” you corrected. “And you are not that good-looking.”

“Well, maybe not today in the cold hard light of day. But last night? Last night I was very good-looking. I had my blue shirt on, my good-looking shirt, you took advantage.”

“I did not take-” you tried to defend again, but Steve cut you off once again.

“You want to take advantage again? Say Friday night?”

“No. You're an attending. And I'm your intern,” you paused when you realized his eyes were looking you up and down. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you've seen me naked,” you whispered harshly.

Steve gave you a smirk, still looking at you in the same way.

“Dr. Rogers. This is inappropriate. Has that ever occurred to you?” you questioned.

You walked out of the stairwell and away from Steve, lost in thought as you wandered through the hospital. You didn’t have a career yet. As a woman trying to be a surgeon, you knew the cards were stacked against you. The last thing you needed was someone starting rumors that you were sleeping with attendings to get ahead. It would ruin your career before it even began.  

You were ripped from the past when you heard the door to the bar open. You whipped your head around and held your breath until you saw someone round the corner. Someone who wasn’t Steve. Your eyes followed them while they made their way back to their group of friends before you turned your attention back to your empty glass. You looked up at Phill who gave you a sympathetic smile and a new drink. You let your mind wander to Steve- not that you had stopped thinking about him since earlier in the evening.

Despite your reluctance, you and Steve started a relationship of sorts. It was going well until one night brought it all crashing down and led you to where you were now. You groaned internally as the memory came flying back to you.

It had been a long day of work but you had something, or rather someone, to look forward to. Steve was meeting you in the lobby. You walked towards him, shrugging on your jacket as you went. You smiled as he greeted you, the two of you exchanging hellos quickly before moving to leave the hospital. Steve turned away to lead you out when he suddenly stopped.

“I am so sorry,” he mumbled.

Before you could ask him what he meant, a blonde woman approached you in her professional, attractive outfit.

“Sharon,” Steve greeted coldly. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, you'd know if you'd bothered to return any one of my phone calls,” the woman you assumed was Sharon responded sharply.

“Hi. I'm Sharon Rogers,” she said, turning to you to shake your hand.

“Rogers?” you questioned.

“And you must be the woman who's been screwing my husband,” she remarked.

That night, you left without Steve. It didn’t take long for everyone to figure out what happened. Steve was married to Sharon, they were both big-name doctors back in New York. Sharon cheated on Steve so he left, took a plane to Seattle and didn’t look back until she showed up at Seattle Grace. Nick Fury, the chief of medicine, had called her in for a difficult case and she had just stayed. You and Sharon were both fighting for Steve until the night you decided you were done. Steve wouldn’t sign his divorce papers and you were tired of being the other woman. You said you were out. Until about two hours ago.

After a long surgery, you had followed Steve into a scrub room to talk to him.

“I lied,” you said. “I'm not out ... of this relationship. I'm in. I'm so in, it's humiliating because here I am begging…”

Steve tried interrupting you by saying your name quietly.

“Shut up. You say my name and I yell, remember?” you said, referring to an earlier joke.

“Yeah,” he said with a small smile, leaning against a sink and giving you his full attention.

You took a deep breath, trying to organize your thoughts.

“Ok, here it is. Your choice. It's simple,” you started, already feeling tears fill your eyes. “Her or me. And I'm sure she's really great. But, Steve... I love you... in a really, really big ... "pretend to like your taste in music, let you eat the last piece of cheesecake, hold a radio over my head outside your window"...unfortunate way that makes me hate you, love you. So pick me. Choose me. Love me,” you finished, shrugging as if it was the obvious choice.

Steve looked at you, love written all over his face. He grasped your elbow and leaned forward but you pulled back.

“I'll be at Phill’s tonight. If you do decide to sign the papers, meet me there,” you said, walking out of the scrub room without giving him a chance to respond.

You found yourself staring into your empty glass- he still hadn’t shown up. You looked up at Phil as he passed by.

“I actually said, ‘Pick me.’ Right? I did? ‘Pick me’?” you questioned.

“I think it's romantic,” he responded.

“It's not romantic, Phill, it's horrifying!” you exclaimed. “Horror movie horrifying. Carrie at the prom with the pig's blood horrifying.”

“Ok, fine, it's horrifying. But Carrie took out an entire senior class as revenge. Gotta say, I like that in a girl,” he comforted.

“I said ‘Pick me,’” you mumbled to yourself.

You heard your friends, Wanda, Natasha and Clint mumbling behind you, all you could hear was your name and pathetic. You whipped around to face them.

“Who's pathetic?” you demanded.  Wanda and Clint looked over at Natasha, glaring at her slightly.

“What?” Natasha asked, feigning innocence.  

“You, who pretend to be my friends are calling me pathetic behind my back in front of my face,” you said in your slightly inebriated state. Clint pointed to Natasha and then threw his hand up, claiming innocence.

“Why don't you just dump the pig's blood on me now and get it over with?”

All three of them looked confused but before you could explain yourself, Clint’s pager went off, signaling he was needed back at the hospital. Before long, everyone’s pager was going off, including your own.

“Phill! Turn up the TV,” someone shouted.

“A massive train wreck occurred just outside of Seattle just minutes ago. The Vancouver-bound train was carrying over 300 passengers. Paramedics are on scene helping victims,” the TV droned on.

“That explains the pagers,” Wanda said. “We just worked a thirty-hour shift.”

“I don't have any clean underwear,” Clint mumbled to himself.

You all started grabbing your things, dreading what would happen when you got back to the hospital. Phill noticed you picking up your bag.

“You're leaving? No, no, no, you can't leave,” he said.

“Sorry, gotta go tend to someone else's train wreck,” you joked.

“You gotta at least stay for a cup of coffee. You're in no shape to cut people open. Plus,” he paused as he shrugged. “I don't wanna miss the ending.”

“You coming?” Nat called from the door.

“Maybe it's for the best. Maybe I don't wanna know,” you said in defeat while you walked towards the door.

“That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard,” Phill called out after you.

“Goodnight Phill,” you said as you exited the bar.

A half hour later, Steve burst through the door of the bar looking disheveled. Phill saw him and rolled his eyes.

“You’re too late man.”

[crystalelemental]

thewarriorgoddess replied to your photo “She’s +1. Mission accomplished. Kinda tempted to go for a better boon...”

I can’t get behind this Duo unit at all lol if Micaiah practically raised him since he was a kid then......her encouraging him to ask her to marry him is..........it doesn’t sit right with me at all.

God, fucking same.  I’m doing this entirely for Micaiah, but Sothe’s presence is such a bother.  Their duo conversation really is not doing them any favors.  I was so ready to set this up as just them being present at Nailah and Rafiel’s wedding because they’re friends, but they really had to go this direction.

The thing is, all I really need to be at least okay with it, would be “she didn’t raise him.”  That’s it.  That’s all.  That one little change would honest to god make this fine for me.  We don’t know exact ages when she found him or anything like that, so I’d be willing to chalk it up to just a close bond that developed into romance if it weren’t for the whole “he started out practically feral, and she was the one who helped raise him like a human.”  Like, that’s...bad.  That’s real bad, for something to develop into romance.

But even beyond that, I just hate them as a ship.  Micaiah and Sothe just aren’t well matched.  I get that Sothe is meant to be her voice of reason, but often he comes across as more of an asshole than anything.  He questions pretty much every action she takes, and is constantly criticizing everyone she decides to put faith in, directly and fairly harshly.  While Micaiah can be naive, and Sothe isn’t necessarily wrong to have misgivings, absolutely nothing about his interactions with her suggest a romantic framing of their relationship.  If there were romantic feelings involved here, you’d think he’d be aware of how she is as a person, and would know full well she’d cede power to the first person to come along and claim legitimacy to the throne, regardless of their ability to rule.  She doesn’t want that kind of spotlight.  He knows she’s trusting of others, and cares deeply about her bonds, yet there���s not a single point ever where he even attempts to sugarcoat criticisms of Pelleas, he’s constantly shit-talking him to Micaiah, despite knowing the faith she’s placed in him.  And at the end of all of this, you’re seriously going to tell me that this concluded with them falling in love and getting married?  I don’t buy it.  At all.  At best, it’s stupid shoehorning of romance at the last second because no possible relationship but sexual can exist between a male and female character, right?  At worst, it’s legitimizing Sothe’s dickish behavior and constant criticism of everyone around her as “Oh but he’s like that because he just cares so much so he deserves to be with her.”  He doesn’t.  She can, and should, do better.  It’s just another instance of the ending cards waltzing in and fucking everything up for the sake of a “pretty ending.”  But the ending cards aren’t canon, and this pairing can suck my ass.