#[ and is much much nicer and more REAL with others and HERSELF for once !!! ]

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 198 (Wishes, Whispers & Water Balloons)

The day had finally come. Today, which was also a national holiday, Ash Landgraab turned thirteen. His family woke to a warm, sunny day, relieved they'd made plans to beat the heat on Deadgrass Isle with family - and a few of Ash's friends.

Heather baked a cheesecake and kept it from collapsing on the ferry to the isle, decorating it with candles before Ash made a wish* to blow them out.

*Ash didn't tell anyone his wish, but maybe it had something to do with his first crush. Who is...

Pearl looks like she has opinions on this 🤔👀

His grandparents, Neal and Daisy, made the drive from Henford, joining his family, his Aunt Hazel and soon-to-be Aunt Suri, and his school friends, Arun Kalani and Scotti Holiday. But no one had come farther to help him celebrate than Pearl Richards.

"You're only a year older than us. You're really a professional ballerina? Like on stage?" Scotti Holiday looked torn between being impressed and actually showing it. "That's pretty cool, but you must have the ugliest toes from those pointe shoes!"

Pearl rolled her eyes. "I'm not asking you to look at my feet. Scotti, was it? Isn't that a guy's name?"

"Not the way I spell it." Scotti forced a smile for the only one of Ash's friends she hadn't met yet. Arun, who was tall for his age, passed the picnic table and shook his head.

"You deserved that, Scotti. Eat your cheesecake."

"Who makes a cheesecake for their birthday? Ashy, where's the icing?"

"Icing is just pure sugar," Pearl said.

Scotti scowled. "So ballerinas aren't allowed to have icing?"

"Come on guys, it's my birthday," Ash interjected. "I bet you two will realize you have a lot in common once you get to know each other."

The girls gave each other a long look, with Pearl scoffing at Scotti's gingham clothes and Scotti side-eyeing Pearl's bolder fashion choices. "If you say so, Ashy." Scotti gave him a friendly smile - mean as she was, she was nicer to Ash than her own siblings.

They socialized a while and enjoyed Ash's birthday cheesecake, getting updates from Hazel and Suri on their wedding planning. "We're looking for the perfect venue and don't know what to do," admitted Suri. "We've both got family all over so we're considering a destination wedding, but that makes it so much harder to plan."

Arun turned to Pearl at the picnic table with a winking smile. "Want to be my date for the wedding, Pearl?"

The ballerina shook her head, trying not to show how much she disliked the thought of being his date. "Sorry, Arun. I've got ballet and I don't think you're even invited."

With the afternoon sun beating down on the isle, Neal and Conrad set up a bucket of water balloons to help everyone stay cool during the heat wave.

Ash doused his grandfather before Scotti threw one that looked like it might fumble to the ground, but it picked up speed across the sand and knocked Pearl flat on her back! Pearl grimaced as she pulled herself up, and Ash chuckled at his soaked friend. Pearl glared at him while Scotti celebrated her point for the hit.

"Ash, don't laugh. She looks mad," Lavender advised him.

"What do you mean? Pearl, are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"She doesn't mean fine. When the girls on Dating Deanna say it's fine they don't mean it. Callie said she was fine with other girls flirting with Deanna, but then she slapped Deanna when Lara flirted with her!"

"Lava, I don't watch your show. I don't know what you're talking about."

"Duh! I'm saying they both like you. Aren't you supposed to be a genius?"

His cheeks flushed, but he didn't have time to think before a red balloon sailed in his direction. Though it landed at his feet, a splash of water still hit him and his sister.

No one was unhappy to get wet in the sweltering heat. Eventually they called the game for bathroom breaks and more socializing, while Neal invited granddaughter Lavender to help him build a sandcastle.

"Grandpa, you build a lot of things. Have you ever built a real house that looks like this sandcastle?"

"Not quite, but I once built a fairy den for someone in town."

"A fairy den like a fancy birdhouse?"

"I thought so, but the owner said it was really for fairies."

"What fairies? There aren't any real fairies."

Neal scoffed as they worked together to form the sand into a castle. "How do you know there aren't any real fairies? Haven't you ever heard any whispers in the woods?"

Lavender's eyes grew wide. "Fairy whispers?"

"That's what they say. Just because you've never seen a fairy doesn't mean they're not real."

The pair stood to admire their finished work. "It looks great, Grandpa."

"It wouldn't look half as good if you hadn't helped me. Those extra towers make the whole sandcastle."

"You really think so?"

"Are you calling your old Grandpa a liar?"

"No way! I just messed up the one tower and-"

"And the shorter tower is the most interesting part of the whole build. Don't be so hard on yourself, kiddo. The world's tough enough."

Lavender heard his advice and tried to understand it. Most people settled for less than the best, but if the world was so tough, wouldn't things be better if they were perfect?

She let the question ruminate as the party continued through the afternoon, until she heard what sounded like faint whispers coming from the direction of the lighthouse.

Remembering what her grandfather said about fairies and knowing ghosts were everywhere on Deadgrass Isle, she raced off toward the point to investigate. The door was unlocked and she climbed the winding stairs to the viewing platform of the lighthouse, glancing back toward the school and museum where she'd left her family and friends.

The ocean breeze felt cooler up here, and though she found no trace of ghosts or fairies, she did feel an odd sensation - a feeling like she'd been here before. But in all her eight years, she couldn't remember a time when her family had taken her up to the lighthouse observation deck.

"Weird," she said to herself. Unable to explain it, she pulled a toy from the pocket of her dress and spent time playing by herself, making the most of her time away from Ash's bickering friends.

But Pearl and Scotti stayed on their best behaviour until sunset, when most of the guests left Deadgrass Isle to head for home. Ash and his family stayed behind, paying respects at Ben Gordon's gravestone, lighting sparklers for the holiday, and enjoying each other's company, only heading home once the ghost pets in the cemetery emerged to make the isle their usual midnight playground.

Now that Ash was a teenager, Heather and Conrad knew they'd see less of him than they were used to. He was growing up, ready to discover himself and the world, and they knew they had to let him spread his wings when he was ready.

But for today, the family could bask in the joy of simply being together, making memories to last a lifetime. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

NOTE: I had to cheat Lava's 'oddly reminiscent' moodlet by adding the hidden Lighthouse Baby trait, but it does exist. Not sure what went wrong for Heather and Conrad, who got pregnant in that lighthouse twice, but I think it's because I have a mod that overrides 'try for baby' where woohoo works to get pregnant more regularly and there's 'try for pregnancy' instead (I think it's Pandasama's Childbirth mod? Could be RPO.)

Anyway, I'm not one to let mods stand in the way of earning hidden traits so I cheated it for her and then the moodlet appeared! Apparently one must get pregnant in the lighthouse with the 'try for baby' option only. Regular woohoo or try for pregnancy mod-interaction babies don't appear to count!

NOTE 2: Malcolm's genetics are strong in Ash (you should see him with Malcolm's hairstyle EXCEPT YOU NEVER WILL! 😂) but I love him. There's something Jake Gyllenhallesque about him - as in the features aren't conventionally handsome, but there's something about it all that works.

Premades involved in the genetics of Ash and his friends are Gavin Richards, Malcolm Landgraab of course, Zoe Patel & Mitchell Kalani, and Travis Scott & Summer Holiday. Scotti is mean and loves the outdoors and we can - nay should - have opinions on Ash's taste in girls being so...Nancyish. The relationship panel told me how he felt about her in the main save, and when they 'met' for the the first time in the second save to get the posed birthday photos, I got the heart farts. Now you all know I'm not just saying Ash likes the mean girl who looks like teenage Nancy for some made up drama!

WCIF Poses: Ash and his friends are posed with @talentedtrait's With Or Without You posepack, Ash and the Gordons with Family of 5 posepack by @cheesesoes, and the group shot is a wild mish-mash of several different poses including Family of 5, With Or Without You, Moments by @simmerberlin, Large dog poses by Simmerberlin, Crossed Arms by @whimsyalien, and You & Me by @starrysimsie. I was going for something less chaotic, but I'm still working on using TOOL to toggle sims by half spaces and, well, mixed results! Chaotic is fine!

[shieldofiron]

Steve Harrington collects strays. Everyone in town can tell. From the gaggle of barely pubescent kids following him around, to the stray cat he rescued from a tree in the parking lot of Family Video (her name is Pickle and people actually clapped when he lured her to safety.) Once Billy even saw a crow fly up and give him a gift in the middle of a conversation.

So at first, this is what he thinks Steve is doing and it’s pissing him off. Inviting Billy for sleepovers and acting all concerned when bruises bloom on Billy’s ribs and face.

“I’m not your charity case, Harrington.” He says on several occasions.

But Harrington is persistent. And so fucking pretty. And nice, nicer than Billy’d thought after that night in the fall.

Finally Billy gives up because it’s better to be a stray in Harrington’s collection than nothing at all to him.

Until one night when Steve drags him home after he (yes, a little stupidly, get off his back!) had been sleeping in his car for a few nights.

“God, I’m so… you know you can come here, Billy, so just come here,” Harrington flings off his jacket with that huff that makes Billy fall more in love with him every time. “Why do you have to fight me all the time?”

“I was fine, god, maybe sometimes I like sleeping in my car.”

“Bullshit, you do not. You told me you get all jumpy someone’s going to attack you and there’s no room in your backseat.” Harrington slams the front door, his tone dripping with condescension.

“That’s not what you said last night, Princess.” Billy jokes trying to diffuse some tension.

Harrington reacts so strongly, shoving himself up in Billy’s face. “Don’t.”

“Chill out, it’s just a joke.”

“No it’s not,” Harrington paces in a circle before putting his hands on his hips. “Why don’t you just… you piss me off so much sometimes.”

“So then leave me alone, Harrington.”

“I can’t!”

“Why?” Billy’s throat is suddenly desperately tight. Why did he say to leave him alone? What if Steve actually does? Fuck, he doesn’t want that.

Harrington runs a hand through his hair. “Because I went and fell in love with you, and now you can go punch me in the face or whatever you want but I’m not letting the man I love sleep in a car.”

Billy’s wires get all crossed, anger and desperation surging as he tries to comprehend what Steve even said. “Fuck you! You don’t get to say that to me and dangle hope in front of me just because you feel sorry for me.”

Harrington’s face gets pinched and mean. “It’s fucking true!”

Billy falters, stumbling on solid ground. “But I love you?!”

It comes out like half statement half question.

“We’ll, alright then,” Harrington throws his hands up. “We love each other. It’s settled!”

“Fine.”

“Good.”

“Great.”

“Perfect. I’ll get you something for bed.” Harrington huffs, spinning on his heel.

And just when Billy’s starting to second guess what just happened, Harrington spins back around. He buries a hand in Billy’s hair and kisses him hungrily. He kisses him like he’s going to bring down his crow army if Billy doesn’t kiss him back, so Billy does, weak kneed, sagging against the pretty decorative table in the Harrington foyer.

When they part, Harrington makes a strangled noise like he can’t bear to do it. Like he wants Billy, not for a collection. For real.

When they head up to bed together, Pickle makes herself scarce.

[spiritsonic]

Hi Evan! Big fan here, hope I'm not disturbing you at an inconvenient time. I love your work as an artist and writer, but it's not just Sonic that you work on. It would be cool to know more about your work Ensouled. What is it about? Who is the ghost guy and the human girl?

Sure, I’ve been wanting to write some new character bios. Check it all out under the break!

CHARLEY PARKHEARSE

Once, long ago, Charley was the best teamster in Santa Alma county. His stagecoach flew over treacherous mountain roads, One crack of his whip could snuff a candle’s flame from six yards, and any bandit who dared to stop his stage would meet the business end of a rifle. Anyone who cared to comment about his sour temper or murky past knew to keep their voices low… and God help any fool who questioned Charley’s refusal to remove his heavy greatcoat, no matter the weather. 

But Charley’s fame was bound to earn him enemies�� When the bandit Sugarfoot learned that Charley was in fact born a █████, the secret spread like wildfire through the mountains. Charley was ruined. He thought his life was over, until he was visited by a being dealing in black magic; a devil known in his human guise as Aurelius Flood. This devil promised to erase Charley’s secret from the minds of Santa Alma’s people, restoring Charley’s reputation, in return for his soul. Charley accepted, though he would not learn the depth of his folly until the night he died… and was raised as a ghost by that same devil, now bound to his service. Still, the devil was true to his word. Charley’s secret was safe, even beyond the grave.

At one point in the many decades since his death, Charley thought he could escape Aurelius’ control. But today… he’s given up that hope. He haunts the roads he was once the master of, frightening drivers to meet his quota of Soul and waiting ‘till his memories fade away, taking the pain of his mistakes with them. That is until, in a flash of ill-advised mercy, Charley spares the life of a young woman he scared off the road…

(Charley is LOOSELY based on Charley Darkey Parkhurst, a real historical figure. Look him up! He's a really cool example of a queer, probably trans person ((by today's standards)) in history. The real Charley's dying wish was to be remembered as a man; a wish that has not been respected by history. I want to explore the pros and cons of living closeted or stealth in an ever-changing world, while also honoring his memory and wishes as best I can in a modern context.)

SEQUOIA LOGANBERRY

Sequoia would like you to believe that she is a monster. It’s easier that way. Ever since her father left for a mistress on the east coast in her senior year of high school, Sequoia has been working a dead-end job at the local amusement park and doing her damndest to drink and drive herself into an early grave. And she almost does it… Until a friggin' SKELETON GUY fishes her out of the lake she drove into?! And now she’s getting these insane migraines and seeing spooky shit everywhere???? 

After a close encounter with death (and Charley), Sequoia develops an unpredictable 6th sense that threatens to finish what she started in her car the other night… Until she’s found by the misanthropic wizard Monty and his much nicer siren husband Luka, who help her get her new powers under control… in trade for her helping them with a few odd jobs. Nothing crazy, just, oh, infiltrating the local magical crime lord’s fey court. Sequoia is just the wild card they need to break a fifty-year standoff between the supernatural powers vying for control over Santa Alma. Sequoia will need to learn fast, about both magic and herself, or else end up a pawn in other people’s plans. Will she be able to make the friends she desperately needs and find direction in her life before she’s swept away?

OTHER CHARACTERS INCLUDE...

MONTY MOUROS, aforementioned misanthropic wizard. Older than he looks. Came to Santa Alma in the 1930’s to earn his fortune, and ended up embroiled in one of Charley’s bids for freedom. It didn’t go well, and he still holds a bitter grudge. He’s guarded the local amusement park, the Boardwalk, from Aurelius Flood for years, but other than that has hidden himself from both the magic and mundane worlds for decades.

LUKA, a siren who lost his singing voice in a trap set by Flood. If not for Monty, it would have taken his life. When they were young the two fell in love, and Luka defied his family’s traditions to be with Monty. They’re still together, and Luka is the only person who can get past Monty’s harsh exterior. Luka now runs a speakeasy for spirits hidden beneath the Boardwalk, where he mixes magical cocktails and turns the rumor mill. He is a kind soul who defines himself through service to others…perhaps to a fault. 

AURELIUS FLOOD, The mastermind behind most of Santa Alma’s woes. A cruelly ambitious leprechaun who thrives on greed, he’s been following the money since the time of the Romans. In the 1800’s he came to the new world, where he found fabulous opportunity during the California gold rush. Assuming a human disguise he carved out a business empire in the mundane world, and a criminal one in the magic world. He built Santa Alma himself, engineering the city’s growth. Fattening a pig for the slaughter. Now, the only thing standing between him and his ultimate payday is Monty and the pivotal bit of territory he controls at the Boardwalk. It’s stymied him for years, but he’s got a new plan…

SUGARFOOT, Flood’s left-hand man. As the illegitimate son of a powerful Californio rancher and an Ohlone woman trapped in the California mission system, fate did not deal Sugar a kind hand. After his father’s family lost their rancho, Sugar turned to a life of crime. He got his sarcastic nickname from a festering leg wound he earned in a shootout with Santa Alma’s top teamster, Charley Parkhearse. As his infection grew, so did his hatred… These mountains should belong to him, not some johnny-come-lately from New Hampshire. So he turned to another stranger for help; Aurelius Flood. In trade for his soul, he gained information; a secret that, if it were to get out, would ruin Charley forever. Sugar leapt at the deal, and got exactly the revenge he’d wanted… until Charley came for him, blinded by rage and shame, and shot him dead in the street. In death, Sugar and Charley found themselves in the same situation… bound to serve Flood forever. As coworkers. Hell would have been a mercy. 

(Sugarfoot is also based on a historical figure of the same name, but almost nothing is known about him other than he was a bandit with a very stinky foot. IRL Charley shot him when he tried to raid his stagecoach.) 

ZINNIA LOGANBERRY, Sequoia’s annoyingly precocious little sister. While Sequoia turned to delinquency after their parents’ divorce to avoid her feelings, Zinnia threw herself into her studies for the same reason. She has become the model student and daughter, earning their workaholic mom’s favor… but man, this kid is Burnt. Out. When she finds out about Sequoia’s new adventures with the supernatural, she throws herself into this new world as a release from her demanding daily life only to once again take things too far. And now, the consequences come with fangs, and hair, and claws…

DEBORAH LOGANBERRY, Sequoia and Zinnia’s mother. She knows she could be doing better by her daughters, but ever since her no-good husband left them, she’s been the family’s sole provider. Her job in the city’s planning and zoning department is the only thing keeping them off of the streets, and the price of housing in Santa Alma is only going up. It’s a matter of survival; surely, once they’re more financially stable, she’ll be able to patch things up with Sequoia. And maybe something will come of the new friendship she’s struck up with Mr. Flood. He IS quite the successful developer, after all… perhaps they could be more than friends?

[pupyuj]

→ “magic words.” || jang wonyoung x reader fic.

— what was supposed to be a simple tutoring session turns into something more when the most popular student in the campus, jang wonyoung, opts to teach you a completely different lesson...

word count: 4.7k.

dynamic: dom!mean girl!jang wonyoung x sub!nerd!virgin!reader.

content warnings: smut, praise kink, mommy kink, overstimulation, semi-exhibitionism, fingering, begging.

requested ? : nope.

a/n: this one has some sort of a plot so it takes a while to get to the smut part,, hope this one was okay! (jang wonyoung pls marry me.)

next: your colorful secrets.

jang wonyoung was late.

you didn’t know why you were even disappointed. what did you expect from someone with her social status? rich, popular, and a bit of a snob… which was why it was a surprise when you managed to convince her to help you study for an english project. you really didn’t know how you did it. when your professor had told you that being aided by someone who was near fluent in the language could help, the only person that came to mind was wonyoung. she studied abroad once, has the top grades in class, and still looked somewhat more approachable than aeri uchinaga (the other student that could’ve helped you).

or maybe it was just your big dumb crush on the campus princess that willed you to talk to her on that miraculous day, but that’s completely unrelated to your current dilemma.

after five more minutes of waiting, you started feel disheartened. what if she was just playing a joke on you? it’s not like wonyoung was an angel; you’ve heard horror stories about some of the fucked up shit she has done in her time in the campus and even before that. so there was definitely a possibility that she tricked you into believing that she was truly into the idea of spending time with who was essentially a nobody, like you.

ten minutes passed, now you were just really, really sad. but your pride was too big, you didn’t want to walk out of that room looking heartbroken. what if wonyoung and her douchebag friends were waiting on the other side to laugh at you? you shuddered at the idea. you already face so much humiliation and scrutiny from being different than everyone else in this school when really they should be all like you: hardworking, passionate, and actually try to give a fuck about their studies instead of just partying every weekend.

twenty minutes later, well — you were nearly passed out. you rested your head on your arms, blinking sleepily at the lights that you dimmed slightly earlier. you decided that you were going to take a short nap, and then you’ll get to work on your own. screw wonyoung and her joke promises. you were hoping that the rumors weren’t true, that people just made them up because they were jealous of her and her money, her brains, and that pretty little face and those beauty marks and those unnecessarily attractive slender fingers. but she really is just like everyone else.

needless to say, you fell asleep. and you don’t exactly know for how long, because when you were shaken awake by someone, your head was seemingly in another dimension. you lifted your head from your arms and yawned softly, earning a laugh from whoever it was that woke you up. you rubbed your eyes, blinked, and tried to identify the person standing by the side of your desk and— oh, shit.

“w-wonyoung?” you asked with your eyes wide, staring at the tall, gorgeous girl clad in expensive attire that smiled down at you. were you dreaming about her again?

“the one and only,” jang wonyoung takes off her jacket and folds it neatly, putting it on one of the unoccupied seats across the table. “i know i’m super late. i had to find a real reason to come here other than, you know, just for shits and giggles. you should thank gaeul-sunbae for talking some sense into me.” oh. she couldn’t have said that in a nicer way?

“okay…” you murmured, nervously picking on the lint on your clothes for no reason.

wonyoung settles herself beside you, sipping on a cup of iced coffee. she slides a full cup to your side of the table, “that should wake you up.”

“you didn’t have to get me one…” you replied timidly but accepting the cup nonetheless.

“oh, i didn’t. gaeul-sunbae got that for you and told me to give it to you because apparently, it was the least i could do for making you wait for over an hour. huh,” wonyoung puts down her cup, leaned back on her chair, and looked at you, smirking. you tried your hardest not to blush at the way her eyes completely raked over your figure. you shifted uncomfortably on your seat, suddenly finding your skirt too short or your uniform too tight. “maybe she has a crush on you. ha! well, that’s quite a jump. from that hot soccer captain in that other university, ahn yujin-ssi, to you.” wonyoung giggles.

god, really? you held back the urge to groan, or roll your eyes, and just smiled awkwardly at her. you were seriously regretting having that dumb crush on her. she was pretty, but her mouth and the things that come out of it made it hard to truly like her.

“i doubt that…” you said, picking up your pen and opening up a novel. the very same novel you had a hard time understanding, and the very same novel that you hoped wonyoung would help you understand but that didn’t seem likely now. seeing that all she wants to do is insult you.

wonyoung doesn’t say anything else, merely fishing out her phone from her bag and silently scrolling up, completely forgetting the reason she was here in the first place. you sighed, tired eyes skimming through the words in your novel. every single word you read just went over your head, and you really hoped wonyoung would notice how helpless you looked but she was… well, she was taking photos of herself. you took your eyes off your novel to do nothing but stare at her. truthfully, you would also drop everything to take photos of yourself if you were wonyoung because she did look particularly good in this day.

“why do you even need me? you’re supposed to be super smart. aren’t you on scholarship at this school?” wonyoung suddenly asked while still posing. you flinched, immediately turning back on your novel in hopes that wonyoung wouldn’t know that you have been staring this entire time. 

(she did. but whatever. everybody stares at her.)

“t-that’s exactly why i need you, though,” you said. wonyoung chuckles. you blushed at what your words may have implied. “i want to keep that scholarship, but i-i’m not that very good at english and you’re… you’re great so i thought you could help…”

wonyoung closes her phone and puts it down, “well, aren’t you adorable. i kinda get why gaeul-sunbae is obsessed with you. don’t tell her i said that.” were you some kind of inside joke between her and gaeul or something? you doubted that the popular senior actually gave a damn about you, so maybe wonyoung was just pulling words out of her perfectly fine ass.

you really needed to stop talking like that.

“don’t start crying now. i’ll help.” wonyoung brings her chair closer to yours. maybe a bit too close for your liking, but her perfume calmed your senses so you appreciated the lack of respectable distance nonetheless. she takes your novel from your hands and without a word, she examines it. the front cover, the back, the first few pages, and the chapter you were reading. you watched intently as she did her work, and you couldn’t hold back squirming in your seat because of course jang wonyoung looks fucking hot when she starts taking things seriously.

her eyes flicker back onto yours and she catches you staring. you didn’t even make an effort to look away. it was too late anyway. wonyoung wordlessly stared back at you, eyes completely devoid of emotion so you couldn’t tell whether she was annoyed of you for staring or not.

“this isn’t what we’re studying in class.” wonyoung said.

“n-no. i’m reading it for myself. i want to write a thesis on it.”

“a what? so, you’re saying you’re doing this for fun? you have that much time?” wonyoung looks at you in disbelief. she puts down your book, almost offended at this reveal.

“that’s how i study. if i can’t prove to myself that i understand whatever i’m doing then i pretty much failed at that subject.” you confessed.

wonyoung groans, throwing her head back. you stared shamelessly at the curve of her neck, and had this sudden urge to kiss her. what the fuck. “i thought you were going to write a dissertation with how you made this whole thing sound so urgent yesterday. turns out it’s just a cute little project, and for yourself! you’re wasting my time, you know.” the tall girl said.

again, you felt sad. you grabbed the book from her side of the table and pouted as you looked at the cover, “w-well, you’re free to leave if that’s what you think…”

“you won’t cry?” wonyoung asked. you took note of the teasing evident in her voice and rolled your eyes.

“why would i—”

you looked at her and found your words getting stuck to your throat. it was weird, because wonyoung was literally just sitting there and yet she looked so… there's really no other way to put it in your lovesick little head. wonyoung looked regal. arms crossed, sly smile, eyes shining with mischief, and one long leg crossed over the other, hiking up her skirt just a little. you immediately looked away, but you were too late. wonyoung knew exactly where you were looking at.

“oh, i see,” wonyoung giggles and leaned forward, propping her arm up on the table and putting her chin on her palm. you avoided her stare, but you couldn't hide your red ears. “gaeul-sunbae’s gonna be really disappointed to hear about this.”

“please, stop with that. gaeul-sunbaenim is not interested in me.” you say in an attempt to divert her attention.

well, much to your dismay, wonyoung wouldn’t let up just like that. she completely disregards what you were saying. “i guess you’re kinda cute. in an almost pitiful way.” she says, eyes examining your features way too intently. “intelligent, decent, and you don’t dress that bad…” the tall girl continues on, taking note of the accessories you have on your wrists, neck, and hair.

you really didn’t know if she expected you to thank her.

“i’d say innocent too, but that's not all true, is it?” wonyoung moves closer, her perfume once again wafting into your nose and nearly intoxicating you. she places a pretty hand on your thigh, smirking at the way you flinched and hid behind your book. “since i’ve lost interest in whatever you actually want to do, how about we do something that’s actually worth my time?” she says, prying your book off of your hands and putting it on the table.

“i-i can’t skip classes. i was serious when i told you that i want to keep my scholarship—”

“don’t worry. you won’t be stepping a foot outside of your beloved school for this activity.”

see, there were a lot of things that you didn’t believe were true in the world. one of them being your brother allegedly not being free earlier this morning to give you a ride to school because he had something important to do, when you knew he just wanted to play video games until he had to leave for his classes. and now, you have something you can add on the list: jang wonyoung kissing you.

you were waiting to be woken up again, convinced that this was all just a very detailed and prolonged dream. but wonyoung bites your lower lip and nothing happens. other than you moaning softly, obviously.

“i knew you’d like this.” wonyoung mutters before grabbing you by your necktie and pulling you closer. her tongue tasted like coffee, mint, and peaches, and her lips were so, so soft. you were on cloud nine; how many people can say their totally unattainable crush kissed them first?

still, despite liking wonyoung’s lips and the warm feeling on your chest, you couldn’t help but gasp and move away once her hand squeezed your breast.

“what?” wonyoung asked, a bit annoyed.

“w-what are you doing?” you asked back, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“...trying to fuck you? i don’t understand what was so misleading about my intent there.” wonyoung says, looking at you like you were the crazy one.

“how is sex so casual to you and your friends…?” you mumbled. you said all that but the thought of wonyoung touching you like that made you feel certain things in your lower region that you really did not want to know about. or maybe you did, but you were just terrified.

wonyoung, utterly confused, quirked up an eyebrow. “why wouldn’t it be to you? wait,” the tall girl takes another second to look at your bright red cheeks, and the way you squeezed your thighs together presumably to calm that feeling in your core. and then she laughs. “of fucking course, you’re a virgin.”

having your crush find out that you haven’t been touched all your life and laugh at your face about it was not in your bingo card.

“that’s putting it lightly… you’re even my first kiss.” you admitted. you absentmindedly touched your lips with your fingers, smiling as you remembered the way wonyoung’s felt when she had been kissing you.

the tall girl stares at you, there was a softer look in her eyes that made you melt. “ugh, you really are fucking cute. you’re making me feel really bad about poking fun at you earlier.” (and that was definitely new. jang wonyoung never feels bad.)

you shrugged, simply accepting that that was her personality, as brutally honest as she was. you started packing up your things half-heartedly after minutes of silence. a part of you was mad at yourself for cutting off that kiss earlier. maybe you would still be kissing wonyoung right now if you hadn’t stopped her, or maybe you’d be doing something more.

“where are you going?” wonyoung asked, looking up at you since you were now standing.

you pulled at your uniform, “y-you said this was a waste of your time so… i think i’ll just study on my own. t-thank you, though. for the coffee and… that other thing.”

just as you made a step towards the door, wonyoung stands up and catches your wrist in a tight grip. “you’re killing me, (y/n).” wonyoung muttered. she pulls you close, which causes you to drop your bag to the ground and nearly crash into her.

“because you’ve somehow managed to make me feel soft inside, you’re getting laid.”

“i’m getting what—”

“i’m gonna fuck you, (y/n). seriously, what era are you from?”

and with that, wonyoung kisses you again. she wasn’t as gentle as before. her hands were on your hair, tugging and pulling. you didn’t know where to put your hands exactly, but wonyoung noticed this somehow took one of your hands with her own and placed it on her hip. you tried to keep up with her as much as you could, not at all aware of how messy you really were with the way you kissed.

unsurprisingly, wonyoung was annoyed at this and pulled away, “this isn’t a slobbering competition. can you calm down?” she says.

“i can’t. i really like you—”

“fuck. you’re pathetic.” she kisses you again, and you really didn’t know if you should have felt insulted or flattered. a part of you wanted to see how far you could go, this was a once in a lifetime kind of thing after all, so this time around you actually tried kissing her better. wonyoung moves, she’s got your lower back pressed against the desk and her hands on either side of you while you hold her face. she lets you control the kiss, smiling slightly since she found you so, so endearing.

wonyoung sneaks a leg in between your thighs and presses her knee against your buzzing core, making you moan into her mouth. she takes off your school-issued blazer and throws it mindlessly in some unknown corner, then she takes your necktie and slowly tugs you towards the small couch in the room, all while keeping her lips on yours. she unfortunately breaks the kiss and sat down on the soft cushion, leaving you standing in front of her, confused and out of breath.

wonyoung leans back on the couch, smirking, “come on, baby. give me a show.”

you didn’t know what she meant, and you were too afraid of turning her off by asking. but by the way she licked her lips as her eyes scanned you up and down, you just did the next best thing you could’ve thought of doing. you pulled off your necktie and you must’ve done something right because wonyoung’s smirk only widened, urging you to continue on undressing yourself. next, you started unbuttoning your white shirt, revealing your silky cream-colored bra. and finally, you pulled off your panties, just so you wouldn’t have a hard time doing it later.

wonyoung was more of an open book than you expected because it was quite easy to tell that she really like what she was seeing.

patting her lap, wonyoung beckons you over, “sit.” she said. you let your shirt fall to the floor and did as you were told, settling yourself on the taller girl’s lap. you shuddered at the feeling of her thigh against your bare cunt, and fought the urge to ride her.

“it’s always the quiet and nerdy girls like you, hm? hiding all of this behind a book and some straight A’s…” wonyoung’s pretty hands explore your body; from your back, your chest, your stomach, and to your thighs. she enjoyed the way you shivered and slightly moved yourself, desperate for some friction in that area. she plants a small kiss on your collarbone before smiling up at you and attacking your neck. she sneaks a hand underneath your skirt and palms your dripping pussy, her long fingers parting your folds and her thumb just barely brushing your clit.

your soft moans filled the air as wonyoung marks you up. she favored your chest, leaving hickies all over it. she leans back, staring at her work proudly. you took her face in your hands, tilting her head up slightly and then putting your lips on hers. you could feel her smiling as she kissed you back. she found your enthusiasm entertaining, but she was glad she wouldn’t have to do all the work. you boldly pushed your tongue past her parted lips, bravely exploring her mouth. your heart starts beating erratically upon hearing wonyoung’s muffled moans. her voice was so pretty.

suddenly, wonyoung inserts a finger knuckle deep inside you, making you gasp into her mouth and pull away from her lips. the tall girl laughed, “that caught you off guard?” as if she wasn’t looking directly at your widened eyes and gaping mouth. wonyoung pulls her single finger out slowly and pushes it back in, watching as your face contorted from the tiniest bit of pain you were feeling.

“one more?” she asks, but she doesn’t give you a chance to reply and goes ahead and inserts a second finger, making you whine and hug her. wonyoung giggles against your chest as she quickens her pace, relishing in the feeling of her fingers smoothly going in and out of you. the pain was quick to go away, and soon enough you only felt pleasure.

“you’re so tight, baby,” wonyoung wraps her free arm around your waist to keep you steady. she curls her fingers inside you and you moan loudly in her ear. “i’m glad i got to you first. i guarantee you nobody else can fuck a pretty little thing like you as good as i can.”

wonyoung looks up, staring at your features while you try to keep yourself as quiet as you can. the walls weren’t soundproof after all, and the librarian could very well just open the door and invite herself in to check on the students occupying the room. upon realizing this, you threw a quick glance at the door, worried out of your mind. wonyoung notices and gives you a kiss on the cheek to grab your attention, and she was successful.

“nobody will care. plus, you’re with me. you’ll be fine,” she said. she holds onto your waist tighter as she moves her fingers even faster. you clutched onto her shirt, biting your lip but unsuccessfully holding your moans back. “be as loud as you want, baby. let this whole school know who’s fucking you.”

wonyoung couldn’t even begin to tell you how turned on she was right now. you were falling apart before her eyes, the prim and proper (y/n) (l/n) being reduced to this… and knowing that it was all for her… wonyoung doesn’t know if she could hold herself back from completely ruining you on the spot.

“mmhn… ahh— mommy..! mommyy…”

well, shit.

wonyoung was pleasantly surprised. she chuckles, “what? say that again, love.”

you shook your head, embarrassed. “it… it just—fuck—it just slipped out.. i’m sorry…”

wonyoung presses her thumb on your clit and rubs it roughly, “say it.” you whined loudly. that felt too good.

blinded by pleasure, you fulfill wonyoung’s wish. “m-mommy… mommy, ruin me, please…!” you started moving your hips, meeting wonyoung’s thrusts and somehow it made everything feel better by about a hundred percent.

wonyoung was considerably happy. “good girl. can you take one more?” again, she asks but she doesn’t wait for you to answer. now three of her long fingers were inside you, just completely pounding into you mercilessly. the tall girl watched as you basically fucked yourself into her hand. shit, she could cum by the sight of you alone. you were even more beautiful when you were a mess… wonyoung has to fuck you more after this.

“this is a better look for you… none of that honor student bullshit. don’t you like being fucked stupid like this?” wonyoung says, once again curling her fingers and smirking as you throw your head back in pleasure.

you managed to choke out an answer. “yes, mommy… i do, i do…”

never in your life did you ever expect to be calling your crush, the untouchable jang wonyoung no less, such a nickname and even more so, getting fucked by her in a semi-public setting! you were sure to get weird looks from people who might be outside, and the news will spread like wildfire of course but you didn’t care for any of that. not right now, at least. because why else would you think of anything but the girl who was taking you to the stars?

“feels good, yeah? want more, baby?” wonyoung was saying. she herself was getting her panties soaked the faster you were riding her fingers, but she was going to have to take care of her own problem later. she couldn’t take her eyes off of you, after all.

“mmhn.. more…”

wonyoung clicks her tongue, “magic words.” she brings her hand down to your ass, making you whine.

you immediately comply — you were chasing after something that was unknown to you, but you desperately wanted it. and you knew only wonyoung can help you get there. “p-please, mommy… i want more…” you said, looking directly into wonyoung’s eyes and watching as her pink and plump pillowy-soft lips spread into a satisfied smile.

“mhm. you learn quickly, don’t you? what a good girl.”

fucking hell. did everything that came out of her mouth have to sound so hot?

as promised, wonyoung gives you ‘more’. she shifts herself slightly up on her seat, holds your waist in a death grip and whispers, “put your arms around me.” then, she pulls her long fingers out almost all the way before plunging their full length back inside you, deeper than it has ever gone. the sound that left your mouth loud, dirty, and wonyoung could hear the pain beneath all pleasure. 

she repeats her action, and you finally understood why she told you to hold onto her because holy fuck you were going to fall off her lap. you wrapped your arms around wonyoung’s neck and held her close, screaming into her ear every time she brushes past your sweet spot.

“w-wony.. wonyoung— mommy..! i feel weird… i feel weird, i feel weird…!!”

“shh, shh, it’s okay. it’s supposed to feel like that,” wonyoung starts kissing up your neck again, stopping directly under your jawline and leaving another hickey there. “you’re doing so good, baby. we’re almost done. just hold on for mommy, ‘kay?” she pats your ass, gently rubbing on it to ease the sting that her slap left earlier.

you shook your head, “i c-can’t… stop, stop… please..!” you were feeling too many things at once. you wanted whatever this was all leading up to but it was overwhelming. you wanted it to be over but you wanted to prove something to wonyoung, as if ‘holding on’ for longer like she asked would get you a medal from her or something.

“okay, okay… let go, then. it’s okay…”

wonyoung hits a spot and unexpectedly, the pressure in your stomach tightens and breaks in a second. your entire body stiffened as you came undone on wonyoung’s hand with a long, loud moan mixed with a sob. wonyoung shushes you gently, using her free hand to caress your back. she pulls out her other hand from your cunt, it was completely drenched with your juices.

you leaned back after getting a hold of yourself, albeit only a little, and watched as wonyoung licked her fingers. fuck. what you would give to engrave that moment in your mind.

“feeling alright?” wonyoung asked, brushing your damp hair away from your face with her dry hand. you looked exhausted and fucked out. it was hot. wonyoung’s core was throbbing like crazy. she wanted to get off to you so bad. you nodded weakly at her question, even though you didn’t look and feel ‘okay’. you were feeling a lot of fucking things, that’s what.

“t-thank you…” you said suddenly.

wonyoung tilts her head to the side, “for what?” seriously, you were so cute. with your flushed cheeks, eyes glistening with tears, and hair a big mess.

“...you know what for.” you mumbled, hiding your face in the crook of her neck. wonyoung laughs—music to your ears—and pulls you close by your waist, hugging you and kissing your bare shoulder.

the two of you stayed like that for a while, neither of you saying anything for god knows how long. you would ocassionally lift your head and wonyoung would kiss you, then softly asking if you were okay, or if you needed anything. sometimes, she just looked at you, tugging at your heartstrings and making you wonder just what she was thinking. (‘how come i have never seen you before?’)

eventually, however, it was time for both of you to leave as you had some actual studying to do and wonyoung, well, she has a party to attend. typical.

“hey, i’m giving you my number.” wonyoung says when you finally managed to make yourself look tidy and somewhat presentable. you knew that hickies were all over your neck, but you were too tired to lose your head over them.

“uh, why?” you asked, reluctantly pulling out your phone but not handing it over just yet.

“oh, no reason. i give my number away for free. it’s a thing i do.” wonyoung replies in an exaggerated tone. she snatches your phone from your hands, rolling her eyes at your apparently ridiculous question. her actions reminded you that yes, wonyoung will always be a snob through and through. even after giving you the best fuck of your life.

“ha ha.” you laughed sarcastically. you barely caught your phone when wonyoung mindlessly dropped it on your hands in retaliation. you weren’t going to lie though, having your crush put her number on your phone was a dream come true. you looked at your screen, ready to send wonyoung a quick message so she can save your number when you noticed the name she gave herself.

mommy💘

before you could say anything, wonyoung puts a single finger on your lips and winks, “call me when you need ‘help’ again, baby.”

[sterredem]

enough for you

Lando norris x ex!Singer!reader

Face claim Olivia Rodrigo

Warning comparison, angst (not really), not proofread, spelling mistakes (as always)

Summary basically just the song enough for you

A/N no part 2. I really love this one. It’s a bit short but still one of my favs.

Don’t forget to repast and comments. And dead back is also welcome❤️💜

Twitter

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Real life

Y/n was miserable. That was to say the least.

While her relationship with Lando was at the beginning beautiful now it was… not. As the internet has seen she has changed herself. She begin to where make up. That was because she thought if she looked like the people he had dated before he would like her more. All that and all the hundreds of dollars spent on make up only for him to say he wasn’t the ‘compliment type’.

She also began reading his self-help books. That was because she wanted him to think she was smart- she was. That was besides the point, but she wanted her to seem intelligent in the things he read too.

Besides those things she did some things that he would like; she learned his coffee order, and how you can make. And she learned all his favourite songs. She now knew all of them by hard.

And still, with all that. He was an asshole. Sure he wasn’t mean but he could surtenly be nicer. Because while y/n did all those nice things, Lando just couldn’t get himself to appreciate it or acknowledge what she did.

And that is how she ended up here. Crying on the bathroom floor after she realised everything he did wrong. She realised it after seeing the comments left on her newest YouTube vlog. After that she also saw some twitter threads and then everything hit her. He was in the wrong, not her.

And she was done.

After a few hours of self pity she decided that it was time to get ready. What was she getting ready for you ask? A date with Lando…

Yeah maybe that wasn’t the best idea.

But she stood up and made herself look presentable. After waiting a few more minutes the doorbell rang and she walked to the door. There he stood. He looked good. But she knew what was to come. They greeted each other kind of awkwardly. They both knew that their relationship wasn’t the same as before.

They walked to his car and got to a restaurant where the date was.

That part of the date was alright. The part where it got wrong was when they both returned to the girls house. She invited him in and he took the invasion.

Once in and seated on the couch Lando began talking “Y/n I am so sorry to do this to you.” He began.

“Can you just get to the point?” The girl cut him off. She already had teary eyes.

“Alright. I want to break up. We just aren’t the same anymore. You are never satisfied with anything I do, and I just don’t love you anymore. I care about you as a friend, but not as a partner.” Lando said. It almost looked like he was trying to fake cry. But that happened more than once. Y/n had just accepted that he didn’t have much emotion for her once the 1 year mark passed. And that was 1 year ago.

Y/n was speechless. Well not really. But all what he had to say was ether insulting him, screaming at him or saying things she will regret. So she just waited till he soos something else. She knew that there will be something else. Thief relationship was more complicated to just leave because he ‘didn’t love her anymore’. She knew that.

“Y/n, say something. Please.” She didn’t. He repeated the sentence a few times. Every time he said it a bit louder. Until he was almost screaming. “Say something dammit! Be mad at me, scream at me, punch me. Anything! Just not silence.” Lando said. She had a suspicion why.

“Why Lando?” She whispered. Lando almost didn’t hear her. But he did. And he had a questioning look on his face.

“Why what?” He asked aloud. His voice a little softer than before.

“Why don’t you love me anymore? What is it? I know these is more to the story than you are saying.” She said. She was now talking aloud.

“I- Y/n. I am so sorry.” He said. He didn’t want to say it out loud. “I-“

“Just say it Lando! I deserve to know. You are breaking up with me. Just let me know why.” The girl said.

“Y/n. I don’t want to hurt you.” The boy said. She gave him a look. “Alright. I just- I haven’t loved you for some time. And so I just began talking to some people. And there was this girl- we didn’t do anything. But I have come to love her. I just- I am so sorry Y/n.”

That was the breaking point for the girl. She had a suspicion about it but him really saying it hurt. “Please just leave.” She said. She was now almost crying.

Lando took the hint and walked out of the room. He walked back with some paper towels for her and placed it on a table. “I will go home. I will bring your things at my house to your friend. Can you maybe packs a box with mine? You can just drop that off at mine when I am away on a racing weekend. I will put the keys of your house on the table by the front door.” Lando explained. With that he walked out of her house and placed the key on the table.

When she heard the door close she broke down. At this point she was filling crying. He found someone more exiting. All the things he had said hurt hear deep down. All she had ever wanted was to be enough for him.

Maybe she just wasn’t as interesting as all the girls before. But still- he couldn’t have cared less. She loved him more than she had ever loved someone else.

After a few more minutes of crying she stared thinking again. She didn’t want his sympathy she just wanted herself back.

She didn’t just broke her hard- he broke so much more.

She needed to think about something else. She first needed to poor her heart out and then get a distraction. But how could she do that best?

She had an idea. So she walked towards her music studio, grabbed her notebook and began writing. She sat there for a few hours. Writing, making melodies, recording voice notes and music notes. Until she almost had a whole song.

After that she called het best friend for a distraction. But not befit she had sent all the notes to her producer.

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Instagram

Liked by TaylorSwift and 4.836.836 others

Yourusername ‘Enough for you’ out now! This is a song that is very close to me. I wrote this song a time of my life where it felt like there was no hope. I hope that you will all love this song as much as I do💜

View all 206.835 comments

Taylorswift Amazing song💜

SabrinaCarpenter A real masterpiece

Y/f/n 💜💜

Charles_Leclerc Another banger Y/n!

LewisHamilton Great job Y/n👏

OscarPiastri Always a great song when it is an Y/n y/l/n song

Maxverstappen1 We do love the song as much as you💜

Carlossainz55 Isn’t that good waste?

User1 OMG SO GOOD!!

User2 SO THIS IS ABOUT LANDO??? I am now a Lando hater!

User3 OMG! There are so many drivers in the grid! I think Lando last almost all his on grid friends!

User4 BANGER

User5 💜💜💜💜💜

User6 THIS SONG IS JSYRBYSCEJSGENAUS

User7 WE LOVE IT💜💜

User8 I love how supportive her friends are (the singers and drivers)

User9 AAAAHHHH

User10 Do we maybe get moreee????

User11 YOU FOUND SOMEONE MORE EXITING

User12 THE NEXT SECOND YOU WHERE GONE

User13 This song really hits hard after a break up

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[anto-pops]

The Serpent's Paramour CH 10 - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader

Summary: Sebastian's scheme to infiltrate the Ministry sounds simple. You want it to be simple. But if there's one thing you've learned since joining up with him, it's that things almost never go according to plan, and for once, you're sick and tired of being right.

Word Count: 7.1k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, canon-typical violence, Dementors doing Dementor things

New chapter is up on Ao3 as well :))

It had been a long time since you’d found yourself outside King’s Cross Station. A seemingly endless crowd of people filtered into the multiple different entrances, some speaking with colleagues while others were completely alone, absorbed in their own thoughts as they prepared to head to work. You had told yourself that rejoining society after so many years spent by yourself would be like riding a broom; easy to manage, simple, and like second nature, seeing as you’d done it so many times in the past. 

In the end, you couldn’t have been more wrong. It was overwhelming. With all the different sights, sounds, and the assortment of scents that assaulted your nose as the biting, December morning breeze swept through the streets, it was a wonder you weren’t currently curled up on the ground in fetal position having a breakdown. 

To make matters worse, you were waiting on the footpath with Nora and the redheaded Ashwinder, Joshua. To say you were out of your element would be a monumental understatement, and you silently cursed Sebastian for leaving you to wait for him and Devlin alongside two people who likely wanted you dead. You hadn’t seen Nora since you’d used your darker magic to splinter the floor in your room apart, and Joshua had been absent from your sight ever since you’d lost control of your powers and nearly erupted in the garden. Those weren’t the greatest lasting impressions to have looming in the background, and you found yourself wondering what the two Ashwinders thought about having you accompany them to London. 

Nora, much to her credit, had said sorely little to you when she’d appeared in your room early this morning. It was for the best, considering you’d almost caved her head in with a Depulso charm in your half-asleep state. You definitely hadn’t anticipated the witch ever setting foot in your chambers again after the last time she’d crossed that threshold. Sebastian had apparently asked her to help you prepare to head to the Ministry– ‘to better fit in’, she’d said with a scowl. 

‘Fitting in’ evidently meant putting on the most uncomfortable chiffon dress you had ever had the misfortune of wearing. You hated going from having the freedom to wear trousers to having to layer three different types of skirts over one another, all for the sake of blending in. The petticoat beneath the body of your coral pink dress was itchy and irksome, and you had decided as soon as you’d put it on that it would make for great fire kindling later when you returned to the manor. The only silver lining of the whole ordeal was that you had managed to talk your way out of wearing a corset and a bloody bustle. That was where you drew the line. 

You did look relatively pretty, however. The gown– while uncomfortable and not something you were used to– was stunning. Your previously untamed hair had been combed through and styled back in a simple plait, then adorned with a few ivory hair pins. All in all, if you overlooked the real reason for your presence in the city, it was like you were playing pretend. 

Nora also looked ethereal. Clearly she had reserved the nicer dress for herself, but you didn’t mind in the slightest. It accentuated her assets in ways that left you jealous she had assets to begin with, and the coppery color of her attire brought out the icy hues of her eyes. If you didn’t already know she was an Ashwinder, you would have assumed she was the daughter of a wealthy noble from some faraway country. 

To your left, Joshua shuddered in response to another gust of chilly wind that nearly blew his fedora off. He was dressed modestly compared to you and Nora, having opted to wear a simple dark button down with an ascot and a grey vest over the top. His trousers were of the standard variety, but his shoes were dressy and polished. 

Where in the world did your new allies get all the money to buy such nice clothing? 

“If they aren’t back in the next five minutes, I’m getting the hell out of here,” Joshua muttered under his breath, his words nearly carried away in the breeze. 

Nora sighed, her frustration palpable even before she narrowed her cold eyes at the young man. “We told you to bring a coat. There were four different ones to choose from. You being cold is your own damn fault.” 

“Doesn’t mean I can’t still complain about being made to wait for half an hour,” he fired back instantly. Shaking his head, Joshua stuffed his hands in the pockets of his vest, cursing to himself when he was only able to fit half of the appendages inside the tiny slits. 

Keeping your mouth firmly shut, you looked away from your entourage and glanced around the bustling city streets. The last time you had been in London was after your graduation. You had barely lingered at the train station for five minutes before apparating away, the phantom memory of you and Professor Fig climbing aboard the carriage your fifth-year haunting you and dredging up emotions that were best left buried. The dragon attack and uncovering the ancient magic site hidden away in Gringotts felt like a lifetime ago. 

You wondered, then, what Professor Fig would make of you now. 

“Don’t you all look chipper,” came a familiar, sarcastic voice ahead of you. It sounded like Devlin, but when you turned to look, you were met with the sight of an unknown man. He was young, with green eyes, dark hair, and wearing an expensive looking wool overcoat on top of a pressed suit. The only thing that betrayed his true identity was the worn bowler hat perched atop his head, and your brows furrowed in confusion. 

“Devlin?” you asked cautiously, and the green eyed man smirked. 

“In the flesh,” he proudly remarked, hesitating a moment before adding, “Well, someone else’s flesh, technically speaking.” 

Nora stepped forward to take in her father’s altered appearance, her mouth curling up into a rare, genuine smile that softened her otherwise sharp features. “Whose face did you borrow this time?” 

“William Taylor,” Devlin replied, smoothing his hands down the lush coat draped over his shoulders. “An Obliviator. He’s regularly assigned to attend court proceedings and handles muggles exposed to magic. Him being in the Detention Area won’t draw any attention.” 

“And Sebastian?” Nora inquired further. 

“Thomas Hughes. Junior Assistant to the Archivist.” 

You turned to track the voice as a middle aged man with neatly styled blond hair appeared behind Devlin. Traces of five o’clock shadow lined his pronounced jaw, and a nasty looking scar ran from his chin all the way down his neck, disappearing into the collar of his dark shirt. The top of Sebastian’s enchanted tattoo peaked out slightly– evidently unable to be hidden by magic given its purpose– but it wouldn’t stand out unless he took off his jacket. The man you realized was Sebastian stuck his hands in the pockets of his trousers, the edges of his tailored coat flapping listlessly in the wind. Upon closer inspection, you realized the eyes were still the same color as his usual chocolate brown, just accentuated by crows feet that crinkled when he grinned. 

Thomas– or, Sebastian– turned to stare at you, his familiar eyes sweeping down your dressed up body before turning his attention to Nora. “Nice work,” he mused coyly, and your stomach flipped when the blonde woman dipped her head at him in a coquettish fashion. 

You clasped your hands together and started to wring your fingers, the flurry of uncomfortable emotions that gnawed at you making you question your decision to come. This was bound to end poorly, and if that sinking feeling wasn’t enough of a reason to second guess your presence here, the suggestive gaze Nora fixed Sebastian with was. 

The two of you hadn’t spoken since your momentary tryst in his office days earlier. You knew you had told him he might end up regretting it later on, but the possibility of that being the case made you sick to your stomach for some reason. 

“Your eyes are still the same,” Nora commented dryly. 

Said eyes made a full trip around their sockets as Sebastian shrugged, then nodded towards Devlin. “Not all of us can perfectly imitate faces. He’s the one with the copy cat power– I’m stuck using transfiguration spells, and trust me when I say they were never my strong suit. This is as good as it’s going to get.” 

Nora shot a proud smile at her father, who seemed to be greatly enjoying the praise heaped upon him. You cocked your head to the side as you took in Sebastian’s commentary, the implication of his statement registering a heartbeat later. You looked to Devlin and raised your brows as you asked in a low voice, “Are you a Metamorphmagus?” 

The older Ashwinder tipped his bowler hat forward, flashing you a smirk that oozed arrogance. “I am indeed. The second one born to my family in half a century. It’s an awfully useful ability, especially when you’re sneaking into the Ministry.” 

It most certainly was. As far as you knew, Metamorphmagi were incredibly rare amongst wizard-kind. Unlike Animagi like Natty, the powers that came with being a shapeshifting Metamorphmagus were typically hereditary, so no ordinary person could learn them. For the first time since this morning, you addressed Nora directly, your curiosity piqued in the wake of the discovery. “Are you one, too?” 

She frowned and crossed her arms over her chest, a modicum of insecurity showing on her otherwise schooled features. “No. How it gets passed down through bloodlines isn’t an exact science. My grandmother was one. She had four kids, but he’s the only one who got the ability.” 

To say you were intrigued was putting it mildly. Why hadn’t Devlin mentioned it to you before? You were desperate to learn more– to probe him for answers to the quickly growing list of questions in your mind– but you knew now wasn’t the time nor the place. Joshua was still shivering beside you, doing his best to appear put together in the face of Sebastian and Devlin’s arrival, but the two men still took note of his rigid posture. 

Sebastian jerked his thumb over his shoulder, his eyes jumping from person to person before finally landing on you. “We should get going. The less amount of time I have to spend concentrating on this spell, the better off we’ll be.” 

You were pretty sure you heard Devlin mutter something along the lines of “Sucks to be you”, but everyone was already moving in the direction of the Ministry, ready to tackle the task at hand. 

With your group finally set to break into one of the most heavily fortified government buildings of all time, you sent up a silent prayer. If it turned out to be anything like Gringotts, you hoped that the dark witch and wizards surrounding you were prepared. 

Anything less, and you’d all end up dead.

—

As it turned out, getting into the Ministry was the easy part. The five of you just… walked in. 

Not together, though. That would arouse suspicion. A Junior Assistant to the Archivist and an Obliviator coming to work together? It made no sense– especially considering the vast age gap between the two borrowed identities. 

No, there was a plan in place that you were all following to the letter. 

Nora had entered alongside her father, playing the part of a hapless muggle who was due to have her memory erased after witnessing an unfortunate display of magic that had killed her make-believe husband. She sold the act remarkably well, crying in earnest as she wiped tears and snot away from her face with a silk handkerchief Devlin had crudely tossed her way. 

You, Sebastian, and Joshua entered together next, although your assigned backstory was relatively pathetic compared to Devlin and Nora’s ironclad alibi. You and Joshua were posing as a couple of married scholars, joining ‘Thomas Hughes’ down in the Archives to lend your expertise in deciphering old tomes referencing long, forgotten kinds of magic. The glare you had shot Sebastian upon hearing your title had warranted a knowing grin from him, and you endeavored to smack him upside the head the second you left London. 

Part of you had worried about the guards detecting the transfiguration spell Sebastian was actively using on himself, but when the three of you walked through the heavily guarded entrance without so much as a glance from security, you knew you were in the clear. 

Devlin and Nora were across the massive lobby already, waiting for the rickety dumbwaiter to take them up to where they needed to go. The unfamiliar face of William Taylor glanced at your trio as you walked up to the service lift directly beside the first, and a curt dip of his chin was the only thing Devlin deigned to grace you with. Talking was pointless and largely discouraged, you recalled Sebastian saying, so you mirrored the action before turning back to the creaking machinery in front of you. 

The iron gate of the lift was pulled aside by a journeyman already inside, and he stepped back to allow for a cluster of people to board. Your group was amongst the first to step on, and once the gate had been closed, there was a loud clang as the mechanism began to ascend towards the top of the building. 

You were shoved up against the back of the lift, the taller bodies of the actual employees all around you leaving the air hot and thick with intermingling scents. It was stifling, and it took a herculean effort not to shove at the back of the man in front of you to create space for yourself. Sebastian’s disguised face glanced down at you, taking in the tight expression on your face before placing his hand reassuringly on your shoulder. The tiny gesture was the extent of the comfort he could afford to offer you, but you appreciated it all the same. 

It took far too long for the lift to begin emptying itself. The shrill chime that went off every time a new floor was visited made your ears ring, and it wasn’t until you were seven levels above ground that the bulk of the people aboard disembarked. You exhaled shakily, relaxing your posture as you were finally given the space to shift freely, and Joshua chuckled under his breath at your blatant display of discomfort. 

Ignoring the journeyman completely, you broke the silence within the lift to mutter in a low voice, “Keep laughing and see what happens.” 

“Apologies, wife,” Joshua stressed the word, shaking his head and grinning to himself. “I forgot that you haven’t been out much recently.” 

Sebastian interrupted the momentary banter with a stern look, the gruff expression on Thomas Hughes’ face enough to have Joshua lifting his hands in a show of surrender. Nothing else was said until the three of you arrived on the tenth floor, the gate of the lift groaning open as the journeyman moved aside to allow for you to step off. He didn’t say a word as he closed himself in following your exit, then began his descent back to the lobby of the Ministry. 

You almost wished you had stayed aboard the lift, because the sight that greeted you was something straight out of a nightmare. 

Dark tiles lined the floors and the walls, reflecting a dim, blueish light that seemed to come from nowhere since there were no windows. It gave the hallway before you the appearance of a corridor that led into the afterlife– made worse by the shadowy figures that darted above the floor in the chamber ahead. The temperature difference up here compared to the humid lift was stark; it was freezing, and your breath fogged out in front of you as you anxiously sighed, crossing your arms over your chest in a bid to retain some warmth. 

When you looked at your companions, you paused. Joshua looked to be as nervous as you were, his leg bouncing a mile a minute as he expelled the tension that was swiftly overtaking him. Sebastian, though… 

Even though he wore the face of another man, those familiar eyes of his were riddled with fear. 

Being here had to bring back memories of Azkaban. That was the only logical explanation you could come up with. 

“How long do we wait for Devlin?” You found yourself asking, doing your best to distract Sebastian from the dreary thoughts that no doubt clouded his mind. He blinked a few times before turning away from the chamber ahead, his narrowed, uneasy gaze landing directly on you. He took in the sight of you for a few seconds, barely moving and hardly breathing as he worked through whatever turbulent emotions plagued him, until he finally squared his shoulders and looked back down the hallway again. 

“If he’s not already here, he should be coming up shortly,” he muttered, dropping his hand to his thigh where his wand was securely strapped in its holster. “We can’t linger here, though. It’ll draw attention.” 

Joshua elected to speak up then, his teeth chattering furiously all the while, “What are we supposed to say if we’re caught? The Junior Assistant to the Archivist in the Detention Area is bound to raise questions.” 

“The story is you’re both helping Thomas Hughes decipher older types of magic that pre-exist our time,” he explained quietly. “We can say that the Dementors are worth cross referencing with that magic since they’re as old as wizard kind. We won’t probe around for long– once Devlin and Nora get here, we’ll find Arthur’s cell and get him out.” 

It all sounded so easy when he put it that way. You were supposed to just lie through your teeth in the face of trouble, then break Sebastian’s informant out with no problems? There was no way the enchantments within the Ministry’s Detention Area were susceptible to measly unlocking charms. 

No, there had to be a warden of some sort. Someone holding the keys to the cages and patrolling the halls. You made a mental note to keep your eyes peeled for anyone fitting that description. 

Getting thrown into one of the cells and sent away to Azkaban wasn’t on your to-do list today. 

Sebastian began walking forward then, the hesitation in his steps evident as the distance between him and the Dementors shrank. You and Joshua followed behind him, the two of you taking on the roles of inquisitive scholars who were probably a little too eager to get up close and personal with the soul-sucking wraiths. 

You forced a giddy expression to your face as you neared the end of the corridor, your smile wobbling slightly when two of the cloaked figures swooped down from the rounded ceiling to cut off your path. Sebastian halted in his tracks, his face impassive and showing no signs of alarm as he promptly turned so he could gesture at you and Joshua. “The Archivist has requested his colleagues from Belfast observe the nature of your kind to better understand the tomes currently being reviewed. With your permission, we will complete our task and be on our way.” 

His voice was unrecognizable as he spoke, the tenor so much deeper and lacking the teasing lilt that you had come to know. Your heart pounded against your sternum as you willed your gaze to shift to the Dementors– to the gaping holes in place of where their eyes should have been– and their gaunt, withered skulls made it hard to maintain your curious facade. Still, you leaned around Sebastian, taking in every detail of the phantom figures with rapt fascination.

These were the things that had kept Sebastian subdued in Azkaban for three years. They fed off of human happiness and left prisoners husks of their former selves. Just standing before them was enough to imbue you with a healthy dose of fear that you did your best to keep under wraps, but you knew you would never forget the sight of the ghastly creatures. 

The wraiths hovered in your path for a long time, and the only sign that they actually saw you was the subtle shifting of their hooded heads. Mentally psyching yourself up for a fight, you looked to Joshua, who was doing a less than stellar job of appearing interested in the Dementors. Instead he just looked like he was on the verge of throwing up. 

After far too long for comfort, the figures floated back, no longer looming ominously in your faces as they parted to reveal the path that led into the Detention Area. Your shoulders relaxed, as did Joshua’s, and Sebastian was the picture of confidence as he smoothly said, “Thank you.” 

For someone who had likely been subjected to torture at the hands of the inhuman husks, he was holding it together remarkably well. 

He didn’t waste a second before striding past the Dementors, his head held high and spine straight as the three of you left the first chamber and came upon the second. The sight of bars lining the tiled walls was equal parts reassuring and anxiety inducing. Devlin and Nora needed to arrive before you could move forward with anything, and there was still an obscene number of shadowy figures lurking around. You would all have to continue to play your parts to the best of your abilities. 

“This is fucking insane,” Joshua hissed under his breath, yanking his fedora off his head to rake his trembling fingers through his hair. “How the fuck are we supposed to get out later? Those demons are going to eat our souls before we even find Arthur.” 

“Stop talking,” Sebastian growled, the bushy brows of Thomas Hughes furrowing dramatically. “We’ll be fine.” 

The younger Ashwinder seemed to think otherwise, but he still snapped his mouth shut, rubbing his hands down his cheeks as he looked around. 

“This place…” you started to say, a sliver of genuine wonder coloring your words. “It’s terrible. You can feel how lifeless it is. The fact that it’s just sitting above the rest of the Ministry is unbelievable.” 

“This place has got nothing on Azkaban,” Sebastian murmured quietly, that haunted, far away look in his eyes returning full force. Against your will, you found your chest constricting as guilt overtook you. “Someone once told me that Dementors were born from the first dark magic ever used in this world. It was probably a bunch of hogwash, though. No one knows where they originated from, or why they are the way they are. They were discovered on an island in the North Sea thousands of years ago, but no one knows how they got there.” 

Even though it didn’t seem possible, Joshua paled even further, the greenish hue to his cheeks amplified by the murky light that illuminated the chamber. “The North Sea?”

The weathered face of Thomas Hughes nodded, Sebastian’s alert eyes scanning the ceiling as the shadowy figures above darted back and forth. “The island wasn’t Azkaban as we know it back then, but that’s where the Dementors were found. It’s ironic that the Ministry uses them to guard the place. They know all the nooks and crannies better than anyone.” 

It was a sobering thought, realizing that the wraiths swarming the tenth floor of the Ministry were in fact thousands of years old. It shouldn’t have surprised you– after all, you had undoubtedly seen more far-fetched things since your fifth-year. But something about the creatures imbued you with terror so innate, you couldn’t help but wonder if your ancestors had known to steer clear of the ghastly phantoms. 

You were certainly playing with fire by lying to them… if they could even conceptualize lying to begin with. 

The three of you meandered around the room for a good ten minutes, doing your best to look interested in the unholy creatures circling above. Maintaining your facade was the key to everything here, so you did exactly that; you fixed your eyes on the Dementors overhead and occasionally said something official-sounding to Joshua, who was doing very little to act natural. The poor man looked like he was going to pass out given the circumstances. 

After what felt like an eternity, there was a disembodied clang from deeper in the cell area. Your trio went eerily still, eyes wide with fright as your combined attention was dragged to the cage at the far end of the chamber. A muffled groan soon followed from within, and your panicked gaze jumped from Joshua to Sebastian. The marred skin on the neck of his transfigured disguise shifted as he swallowed thickly, then looked away to begin inching his way towards the source of the noise, and you swore you had never wanted to flee from a place more. Not even the traps you had unwittingly set off in ancient magic sites had scared you so badly. 

The Dementors overhead continued to swirl around the ceiling as Sebastian led the way towards the cell. Joshua nearly stumbled over his own feet when he finally got them to obey his will, his hand hovering cautiously over where you knew his wand was concealed beneath his vest. As you moved to follow the two men, you found yourself regretting having strapped your own wand to your leg under the copious layers of clothing you wore. Withdrawing it now would require virtually flashing the cloaked wraiths and drawing their attention, so you were left to dig your nails into your palms as you curled your hands into tight fists. 

How effective would punching a Dementor prove to be? 

Sebastian hesitated for a moment before peering around the wall of the cell, his entire body going ramrod straight when he caught sight of whatever was within the cage. You and Joshua halted in synch, the suspense causing the repository’s magic to thrum violently in your veins despite your best attempts at remaining calm, and you had to fight the urge to turn tail and bolt towards the lift with every ounce of willpower you possessed. Smothering your flight response, you forced your legs into motion, moving to stand beside Sebastian so you could see whatever it was that had him so perturbed. 

His hand shot up to curl around your bicep when you saw Nora and Devlin laying on the floor of the cell. Devlin’s appearance had returned to the version of himself you knew, his Metamorphmagus abilities nullified in the wake of whatever had apprehended them. The father-daughter duo wasn’t moving– their bodies stiffer than boards– but their matching blue eyes were open and frantic as they stared imploringly at you and Sebastian. 

Fuck.

The sound of something hitting the floor behind you drew your attention, and you and Sebastian both turned around in alarm to find Joshua sprawled out on the floor, his entire body as frozen and rigid as the two Ashwinders in the cell. A tall figure emerged from the shadows within an unlocked cage close to the corridor, stepping out with their wand raised and effectively blocking your only exit. The familiar, pulsing red tip had your mouth falling open in shock and fear. 

Ominis Gaunt stood before you– as poised and regal as ever– his milky-blue eyes narrowed in distaste as he used his refined magical talents to pinpoint exactly where you and Sebastian were. His wand leveled itself at his former friend, the unspoken threat in the action apparent, and you felt Sebastian’s hand tighten around your arm in response. 

“Did you really think I wouldn’t know you were here?” Ominis asked, cold indifference coloring his tone. “Or did you forget that the brand you bear would announce your presence the second you stepped on to Ministry property? You’ve gotten sloppy, Sebastian.” 

“Ominis,” you muttered dubiously, stunned to hear him speak so vehemently after all these years. The soft inflection of his voice had vanished, replaced with a mature, biting tenor that left little room for argument. “Ominis, please, just take a moment–” 

“Be quiet,” he spat venomously, and you recoiled as though he’d slapped you. “I don’t want to hear it. You disappear for years after ostracizing me for a decision we made together, then show up with him and think you can tell me what to do?” He shook his head as a sharp, humorless laugh fell from his lips. “So much for it being ‘the right thing to do’. You’re a bloody hypocrite.” 

Movement from above drew your eye, and you glanced up warily to find the Dementors ever so slowly descending closer. The way they continued to spiral as they grew nearer reminded you of vultures circling around a dying animal, watching and waiting for the chance to feast. 

Sebastian released your arm to hold his hands out in front of him slowly, almost as though he was trying to pacify the blond man. But the glower he had fixed to Ominis’ face was anything but placating. 

It was murderous. 

“Arthur isn’t here, is he?” Sebastian asked in a low, dangerous voice. Ominis only sneered in response. “He was bait. You knew I’d come. How long did you hide in that cell, hoping that I’d walk in?” 

“Long enough to know that you don’t value your people very much,” Ominis retorted. “Seven days and seven nights. That’s how long you left him to rot. We had to send him away after four, since the Dementors kept picking him apart. There wouldn’t have been anything left otherwise.”

“I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, then.” Sebastian chuckled darkly, keeping his eyes glued to Ominis as he shook his head. “You’re more like your kin than ever before. Subjecting a man to torment like that, all for the sake of getting me here… you must make the Gaunt family proud.” 

“Shut up!” Ominis hissed, advancing forward a step and prompting the wraiths above to come closer. You weren’t sure which would prove to be worse; being imprisoned at the hands of your old friend, or having your soul sucked dry by thousand-year-old entities. There wasn’t a single part of you that wanted to find out. “For years I tried giving you the benefit of the doubt. You escaped, and I took on the case in the hopes that I’d find out you had run off to live in seclusion in some hovel. I could live with declaring you dead and shelving everything if that were the case. But then I find out that not only are you still skulking around using dark magic, you’re also commanding every Ashwinder in the country. You embraced being a criminal. You’ve forced my hand, Sebastian. The only person to blame for this is yourself.” 

The next series of events happened so quickly, you barely had time to register anything. 

Sebastian shoved you to the floor, your palms connecting with the tile so violently that you heard and felt a sickening crack from your left wrist. You couldn’t stop the yelp of pain that ripped from your throat, but you were largely ignored as Sebastian’s hand flew down to his side, snatching his wand from its holster before casting Confringo and snarling when Ominis swiftly blocked the curse. 

Now a seasoned Auror, Ominis held his ground with little effort, returning fire in quick succession and forcing Sebastian to back up a few steps. The camouflage of Thomas Hughes wavered as Sebastian’s focus weakened– his transfigured disguise falling away shortly thereafter– and Ominis audibly cursed when he felt the ripple of magic. 

“Still a coward hiding behind other people,” Ominis jabbed, flicking his wand in front of him to send out a Diffindo charm that Sebastian failed to dodge. He jumped away, throwing himself against the cell door as his right side was left unprotected, and the spell tore through fabric and skin like butter. Your scream caught in your throat as Sebastian sagged against the iron bars, a pained grimace flashing across his face before it was replaced by a bloodthirsty expression. 

“It’s all you were ever a master at; using people. You used me,” Ominis continued, casting another spell that Sebastian barely managed to block. “You used her,” Ominis waved his wandless hand in your direction. “You used Anne as an excuse to push the limits of what was allowed. When does it end, Sebastian?” 

Sebastian groaned as he pulled himself upright against the bars, the subtle sound of blood dripping to the floor filling the room, and you stared wide-eyed at the growing red puddle beneath his feet. He fired off another wordless spell that emitted a green glow–one that carried the foul scent of an Unforgivable with it– and a growl sounded from him when Ominis blocked that attack too. The Dementor's overhead began to swoop down eerily close to Sebastian– the air around him taking on a wispy, transient quality that was accompanied by his breathless wheezes. 

No. No, no, no. 

Your fingers curled against the cold floor, the throbbing ache in your wrist muted as you wracked your brain for a solution. Apparating wasn’t possible within the Detention Area, seeing as there were countless wards preventing magical means of escape. You were certain there was a spell of some sort to fend off Dementors, but even though you had read about it years ago, you didn’t know it. Nora, Devlin, and Joshua were still petrified. Self-preservation demanded that you leave them all to their fate and escape by yourself, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do such a heartless thing. Sebastian… 

He was going to die. 

If you didn’t intervene and do something, he would either bleed out or end up a soulless husk at the hands of the fiendish wraiths swarming him. Your skin prickled as the power sequestered deep inside of you began to rise to the surface in lieu of your heightened emotions. 

“Ominis,” came your frantic, pleading voice. The heels of your boots scuffed against the floor as you pushed yourself to your feet. “You have to stop! He’s going to die– please, listen to me!” 

“I’m sorry, but I can’t.” Ominis didn’t look in your direction, his wand still stubbornly leveled at Sebastian even though he was the farthest thing from a threat right now. “I don’t know what prompted you to join him after all this time, but I won’t back down. He’s killed people. He uses Unforgivable Curses like they’re nothing, and he’s never going to stop. I am legally obligated to see this through.” 

“We’re trying to cure Anne! Please– we’re so close to finishing this, Ominis. I know you don’t want to hear it, but the ends will justify the means. He was your friend once! Doesn’t that count for something?” 

Those stormy, unseeing eyes of his landed on you in the next second, and you froze when you caught sight of the pained scowl on his face. “Do you even hear yourself? I’ve heard all of this before– you have heard all of this before. History is repeating itself as we speak, and you’re going to side with him? Do you realize who you’re throwing your life away for?” 

The cool wood of your wand seemed to burn against the bare skin of your thigh, so close and yet so far away while hidden beneath your dress. You needed to get your hands on it to channel your magic. It was festering to life quickly– like a cauldron on the brink of boiling over– and you prayed that the desperate plan forming in your mind would work. You inched your fingers down to gather the hem of your dress in your shaking hands, but Ominis was too aware for his own good. He pointed his wand at you, furrowing his brows as a disbelieving look crossed his features. 

“Are you serious right now? I can’t believe you,” he huffed breathlessly, shocked that you would even consider drawing your wand on him. His knuckles blanched white around the handle of his own as he doubled down and said, “Don’t make me do this, I am begging you. Stand aside and let me do what I have to. I’ll figure out what to do with you after.” 

“No, I’m begging you,” you fired back instantly, the pleading tone you had used earlier entirely absent. In its place was something fearful– something cautionary. He had no clue what it meant to deny you, but he was about to find out. The memory of Isidora’s magic erupting out of you without your wand to aid you made you bristle, and you mentally psyched yourself up for the pain that would accompany unleashing it to destroy the Detention Area. 

If the whole fucking place was reduced to rubble, would the wards be destroyed, too? There was only one way to find out. 

“Please, Ominis,” you said once more, releasing the hem of your dress to rise to your full height. Your eyes jumped over to Sebastian’s sagging form against the bars of the cell, his eyes half-lidded as he weakly applied pressure to the wound in his side. The Dementors weren’t relenting, and you realized you had officially run out of time. “I can’t ask again; let us go.” 

Perhaps it was a trick of the light, or maybe it was just wishful thinking, but you could have sworn Ominis had unshed tears in his eyes. His thin lips pressed together as he shook his head, steeling his nerves as he croaked, “I can’t. You don’t know what will happen if I let him walk away. You don’t know what he’s capable of– he has the support of nearly every dark witch and wizard in the country. I would be unleashing a monster.” 

“He’s just one man, Ominis,” you whispered. “One man who sold his soul to save his sister. Can you blame him? Don’t you want to see Anne whole and healthy again?” 

It was a gamble to throw Anne’s name into the conversation. You weren’t sure if Ominis even stayed in touch with her anymore– didn’t know if he was aware of her current state. Weeks spent with Sebastian had revealed nothing to you about his twin, but you were fairly certain she was at St. Mungo’s in the city. It was reasonable to believe that Ominis would keep tabs on the younger Sallow sibling following her brother’s incarceration. 

The manipulation paid off in the form of Ominis’ wand lowering slightly as his face fell. To use Anne against him in such a way made you feel like a monumental piece of shit, but you were desperate. You didn’t want to hurt Ominis, but if he didn’t relent, you knew he would be caught in the inevitable crossfire. 

“You really believe that, don’t you?” he muttered the question under his breath, but it came out sounding sad. Like he had realized that you were too obstinate to be reasoned with. “Anne wouldn’t want this. You know that. She accepted her curse a long time ago. How do you think she would feel knowing that her brother was doing this– condemning himself– all in the name of fixing her?” 

You didn’t have an answer. Anne had already watched Sebastian kill their uncle, and it had driven her away from him immediately. But before that, you had seen the hope in her eyes when her brother would come around with poultices and herbs, claiming that they might help ease her suffering. Once upon a time, she had wanted to get better. 

Had she really given up? 

Sebastian groaned from his crumpled spot against the cell door, the most recent Dementor feeding from him veering up towards the ceiling to make room for the next. He looked pale, and the despondent expression on his face nearly cleaved your heart in two. You knew he wanted to fight. He would stand and defend himself tooth and nail if he were able, because that was just the kind of person he was. 

But he couldn’t. 

His now dull eyes were fixed on you as he jerked his head weakly towards the hallway leading to the lift. Was he telling you to run? After everything he had sacrificed and worked to accomplish, he was giving up? He had chased you through the woods weeks ago and kidnapped you. He had held you captive in his stupid manor and kept your wand from you until you agreed to help him, and now he was throwing in the towel? He was silently insisting that you get out while he and the petrified Ashwinders you had come with… what? 

Got arrested? Died? 

The thought made your blood boil, and even though he was pitifully bleeding out on the floor, you glared at him. 

“If it’s any consolation,” you heard yourself say, a heavy blanket of apathy settling over your shoulders. “I’m sorry, Ominis.” 

“I never wanted–” the blond stopped mid-sentence, his body stiffening as the suffocating sensation of dark magic began to fill the room. His unseeing eyes darted around, his head swiveling back to Sebastian when he naturally assumed he was the culprit of the festering feeling. But the brunet didn’t even react to the Auror’s angry expression. No, his gaze was glued to you, his irises more lively than they had been since apparating to London. 

Isidora’s magic buzzed against your skin, the crackling sound steadily growing louder until the noise was akin to a hundred lightbulbs on the verge of shorting out. It felt as harsh as it sounded– like a million needles piercing your flesh over and over and over before being doused with alcohol potent enough to make the wounds sting. It was a roaring tempest within you, pushing and straining in its incessant search for a way out, only to find none. No wand, and no means of control. 

You never thought you would willingly put yourself through something like this again, but life had always proven to have a wicked sense of humor. 

Ominis’ hazy eyes were wider than saucers when he faced you once more, finally realizing that you were the source of the unnatural magic. “What the hell is that? What are you doing?” 

“Cast Protego,” you grit through your teeth, the imminent eruption enough to leave your knees buckling from the agony already coursing through you. “Do it now!” 

Ominis staggered towards you as he stepped closer, his confusion and anger evident in his voice. “What– stop!” 

“I’m sorry.” 

With that, you finally let go, hoping and praying that the torrent of raw pain and destruction you unleashed didn’t kill everybody in the process.

[eulaliasims]

Round 6: Seax Farm 1 / 6

The garden is growing, Kinet and Aífe's next baby is cooking, and there will be absolutely no fires, murders, or other such drama on Seax Farm. Fial does NOT allow any unsanctioned fires or murder to occur in her household, thank you very much. Her will alone is probably why their ROS this season is 'nothing much happens'.

Aífe rolled a want to 'get fit', perhaps to prove to Kinet that she can take care of herself. Or maybe she just likes working out! I think Aífe would like kettlebells. No real reason, just vibes.

It's all hands on deck once harvest season starts; even Kinet gets roped into it when he's not busy out of the house.

I'm sure Norweni is happy to be able to get out of the harvesting these days, lmao. She does drop by around noon to spend some time with her sister.

Fial: What's with the new look?

Norweni: Am I not allowed to buy a new shirt?

Fial: I suppose you are. I just haven't seen you in anything but green or that black thing you wear when it's cold in years.

Norweni: Pfffft.

Fial: You're such a brat. I like the blue.

Norweni: Thanks. Uh—excuse me.

Fial: I didn't think my food was that bad.

Norweni: Leave me alone, Fial.

Fial: Soooo are you having another baby?

Norweni: I'm just sick.

Fial: That's what exactly you said the first time, and that stomach bug is turning fourteen.

Norweni: I don't know what to say to convince you that I'm not lying.

Fial: Maybe it works on strangers, but you're terrible at lying to anyone who knows you.

Norweni: I'm trying to lie to you because if I am, I'm not keeping it, and I didn't want to upset you. There, are you happy now?

Fial: …Oh. I'm sorry that you thought I would get upset at you for that.

Norweni: I didn't think you would be upset at me.

Fial: I'm a big girl now, Wenna, you don't have to lie to protect my feelings. You usually don’t try to do that, actually.

Norweni: Spirits forbid I attempt to be nicer to my baby sister.

Fial: Didn't you tell me that Diseta wanted more children?

Norweni: Well. I don't. She'll live.

Aífe: Are you done gossiping in there? Some of us want the bathroom for other reasons!

Someday it really will just be a stomach bug!! But so far these sims are really great at not getting food poisoning. 😔 Oh, that gives me an idea. brb gonna add food poisoning to my ROS entries.

[cccakessslicemeee]

Really obsessed with the idea of Riz (somehow) being a demon in hell with little authority and 0 respect from the other demons and devils that exist there. That's fine. He's used to it. And Fig, the arche devil herself is like... No actually this pisses me the fuck off and goes to do something about it but it only kinda works.

Riz has to demon down and command respect but more importantly fear from the other denizens. Unfortunately he is cute and he is small so most just dont take him seriously until he brings his horns out and then it's oh shit this is someone somewhat important.

+specifically thinking about Riz having to make some sort of deal/ bet with a demon that allows his friends to escape some dire situations. Something something about love and knowing that without outside influence he is good and kind and will default to being kind and then also something about "of course I know love, I have been loved and I have been loving and even if I should not remember how hard I was loved previously my friends will love me for all that I was and all that I could be." And then the game begins where Riz is whoops suddenly a demon with a task at hand, he's gonna fix hell. He has to. There's so much wasted potential, especially in the first circle some idiot Figoroth Faeth runs. Hm. She's never there to pass judgement. What the fuck is HER deal?

Bonus points if Pok is doing stuff in Hell and he runs into Riz who has no recollection of who he is. I like to think Pok is pretending to be a damned soul and Riz has much more awareness than an average demon or whatever. He doesn't say anything because he's already busy with a million other things and one not damned soul parading around hell is not his problem. He's gotta fix the yucky fuck mud demons or whatever they are called I literally cannot remember at the moment.

Riz also through the deal received abilities to better shape his experience in Hell. Things that would be so easy to exploit and take advantage of. Firstly his title but he doesn't. He is dedicated to going things the right way. Bonus points if Kipperlily just exists and has been a gopher since Riz just popped into his task master position. She hates it at first but after some time she gets to be the first person who regularly sees Riz get frustrated with hells design time and time and time again. Haha what an insane little idiot.

Anyway there's a nicer building in hell for elite or demons who pretend they are and it's just a nice swanky place that's relatively quiet and serves good meals. Most of them are memories. The kiss from a first love or holding hands with a crush. Beautiful split seconds of the life up above. Riz is unbothered he has things to do but it's quiet and he can hound or bully some lesser demons into doing a bit of work for him.

Pok shows up. Out of the blue. Riz immediately asks this guy what he wants and knows he doesn't belong here. He's still got a pulse. Pok is hurt but shoves that aside. Maybe he bought his son a beverage since they won't get to properly share a beer in the mortal plane and was curious as to what he thought about it. Riz picks at the cherries but doesn't bother with the drink itself. What does this guy want? Treasures? Trinkets? Perhaps a boon? Although that's only gonna get him so far in hell of all places.

"I don't suppose you came to me begging for work? Did you?"

Pok smirks. Opportunity knocks but once after all. "What would you do about that, if I was?"

"I'd ask you to steal Gabriel's horn and some other things too."

"Really? What good would those do you here in Hell? Unless you plan to flood the place with all the living?"

"No actually I want everybody out so I can redecorate, unbothered and undisturbed."

For a while Pok is dead silent until he speaks again. "Do you really want the horn?"

"Gods no. That'll start a war with the upper planes. A real one. I just want everyone to shut the fuck up. For about... Forever would be nice."

And then bam Pok is working with Riz but mainly trying to figure out what the fuck happened to his son. In some ironic twist of fate Riz is actually organizing hell better, sure it's the first ring and It is hell but there's much better documentation of things that happen and a record of souls who are currently in hell and those who should be in hell but have left for xyz reasons..he's making a dent in the system. Woo. He's doing well. Really well and each time he does a little better he gets more power and more responsibility.

Bonus points if Riz gives 0 fucks about regaining his lost memories. He's just got so much work to do. Memories don't make files or find missing souls.

I also really like the idea of Johnny Spells and his biker gang kissing the goblins ass a little bit so they by proxy have some power and get left the fuck alone. Perhaps Penelope Everpetal is the worst at this because she wants an excuse to go to the mortal plane so bad. Riz sees right through her and keeps her at a desk reading through outdated laws.

Riz wants to choke Fig the fuck out. She does little to nothing with her realm and there's so much she SHOULD BE DOING. Like correctly sorting souls and dismissing them to the correct rings of hell. As per fucking usual he's gotta do everything his self.

I think it would be funny if Riz changed the domain a little bit and when Fig pops by she fixes it back to the way she likes, it's her domain.

Baby is not allowed to exist in the space as Riz. He won't let that happen. He does not have time for that bullshit. No no no.

Anyway that's merely a couple of thoughts.

[mugloversonly]

Eddie: the Matchmaker

Written for: @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt: PINING WC: 946 Rating: G CW: NA Summary: Wayne’s pining after his neighbor, Eddie really is Santa Claus AO3

“Oh, Wayne!” Eddie called into the house, happy as can be. Steve walked in behind, much more subdued and helping Amelia through the snow. She was big girl and she wanted to do it by herself. The snow being at her shoulders didn’t deter her. Like father like daughter. Steve thought.

“Hey, boy.” Wayne’s gruff voice called out as he came out of the kitchen. The new house was a bit nicer than the trailer, but not the same. Still, it was home to Eddie so long as Wayne lived there. He picked Amelia up and kissed her cheek.

“Grandpa, your beard is all itchy.” She giggled. Wayne put her down with a fond smile.

“How was the drive?” He asked.

“Brutal.” Steve said.

“Enlightening.” Eddie replied at the same time.

“How so?” Wayne sat in his recliner, the boys sat on the couch, and all three watched as Amelia opened her toy box she kept at Wayne’s.

“Have any interesting neighbors?” Eddie asked, not all hiding his teasing. Wayne rolled his eyes.

“Not one.”

“Is she pretty?” Steve asked. Eddie never thought he’d see the day his uncle blushed about a woman.

“Who is she?!” He exclaimed. Wayne looked like he wanted to be anywhere else right now, and Eddie was giddy. All the teasing Wayne did when he was pining after Steve; well now, it was Eddie’s turn.

Just then, the doorbell rang. Wayne breathed a sigh of relief and moved to open the door. On the other side was a petite black woman.

“Hey there, Miss Cecilia.” Wayne said shyly. Eddie and Steve made eye contact, just as Amelia dropped her toy. She ran over to the door and pushed her way to the front.

“Hello, Miss Cecilia. I’m Amelia Munson. I’ve heard a lot about you.” She said as she stuck her little hand out for a shake. Eddie tried not to laugh as he pictured how red Wayne’s face was right now. They stood up to save the man.

“Amelia, it’s not nice to barge into conversations like that.” Eddie said before he turned to the woman. She looked nice, about Wayne’s age. “I’m Eddie and this is Steve.” He said.

“Wayne’s son and son-in-law, right?” Cecilia asked. Eddie’s eyes widened, welling up a bit.

“Yeah, we are.” Steve replied, when it was obvious Eddie couldn’t.

“Sorry, to intrude, I just needed Wayne’s help with moving something heavy.” She apologized. Wayne was about to follow her when a light bulb went off.

“I’ll help her, Wayne. You play with your granddaughter.” Eddie insisted. He slipped on his shoes and followed the woman out before Wayne could breathe to protest.

“So, Wayne says you and your husband are very successful up in Indy.” Cecilia began. Eddie nodded and jumped into explaining their jobs, work life, all the getting to know you questions. Once they were finished moving the furniture Cecilia needed help with, Eddie went in for the kill.

“Are the two of you close?” Eddie asked with a nod to his uncle’s house. Cecilia’s eyes darted away with a little smile.

“Yes, your uncle is very nice.”

“Oh, good. I get so worried about him. All alone here while we’re up in Indy.” Eddie said. “And I don’t mean to be telling stories out of school, but I think he has a mighty big crush on you.” He let a tiny bit of his southern accent slip through. It was always a hit with the older ladies...and Steve.

“You think so?” She asked a little breathless.

“Yes, ma’am. He’s my pops. I just want him to be happy. Would you let him take you out, this Friday?” He asked. Cecilia laughed heartily.

“Are you a wing-man for your uncle, young man?” She asked with a tap to his arm.

“He don’t know I know this, but he told my daughter he asked Santa for a date with you.” She gasped at hearing that. “And I don’t want my little girl to think Santa ain’t real, just yet.”

“Well, if it’s to help little Amelia believe in magic.” She said. The two made their way back to Wayne’s and Eddie invited her in.

“Wayne, ask Cecilia.” Eddie demanded. Wayne looked around to see his family staring at him.

“Lord. Cece, I was wondering if you’d like to-”

“Yes!” She interrupted. Wayne stood in shock for a moment, before a wide grin spread across his face.

“Well alright.” He said. Amelia jumped up and down with her tiny fists in the air.

“Another Christmas miracle!” She shouted.

“You’re taking me to Enzo’s on Friday.” Cecilia said with raised eyebrows. Wayne ducked his head with a smile.

“Yes, ma’am.” Wayne offered to walk her home, and Eddie turned to Steve with a big smile.

“You’re never gonna let him live this down are you?” Steve asked.

“He does the same thing to me!” Eddie shouted. It was an inside joke that the only reason they were together was because Wayne begged Steve to make a move. It was true, but still. Eddie pulled $50 out of his wallet and slipped it into Wayne’s.

“What are you doing?” Steve asked.

“Wayne did the same thing to me when I took you to Enzo’s.” He explained. He fondly recalled his uncle offering and Eddie saying no. Before he turned up at the restaurant with extra cash he uncle had slipped him. “I always swore to myself that if it came up, I’d do the same.” What Steve never knew was Wayne gave him a few condoms too, and a serious talk about protection. Eddie was going to have a field day giving it back to him.

tags

@katyawriteswhump

buy me a coffee

[mangoisms]

circle k (back to you)

summary: in which you're just the graveyard shift employee at circle k bombarded by vigilantes.

━ chapter ten: there’s no way to hide it (i know what you’re fighting) | read chapter nine

━ pairing: tim drake x f!reader

━ word count: 4.6k

━ warnings: none

━ masterlist

━ a/n: sorry again </3 grad school just.... eugh. enjoy tho <3 have more end notes of me losing my mind over tim and wally's relationship too <3 also i talk a bit about wally's powers affecting reader there as well <3

Staying with Wally and Linda is… nice. 

Nicer than you thought it would be. 

Once you got over your hangups about it, anyway. And that went by quickly. It had to, because as it would turn out, being stabbed really does limit the things you can do on your own. Like pulling up your underwear and pants (and socks) after a shower and sitting up and sitting down. And picking up things from the floor if you dropped them. You ended up dropping your phone on your second day after discharge—or rather, it was going to drop, then Wally was there, snatching it mid-air and depositing it back into the (relative) safety of your hands, and it did occur to you, then, that if you had been alone, it would have become a much bigger issue.

As it was, at the moment, he just gave it back to you, settled down beside you on the couch, and started stuffing his face with chips, half-heartedly complaining about your choice in movie.

(It was Interstellar, which he ended up tearing up over, but then claimed it was just because he missed the kids. The snicker Linda let out—working at the kitchen table—assured you it was very much a bluff.) 

It still chafes, sometimes, but they like to remind you that you’ll get better eventually and be able to do those things. But until then, that’s why we’re here, isn’t it?

And it’s true. And with that, you realize… it’s really nice to be taken care of. 

It’s not... quite the same if Steph—who visits frequently when she can—was doing it, it’s something else entirely. Something… reminiscent of your parents. Your mom who took care of you when you had fevers, pressing cool towels to your forehead, and your dad who would run to the store at any time of the day to get medicine and whatever else you wanted, too. 

Linda, who, sitting at the desk working, upon noticing you feeling a bit chilly while Wally is cooking dinner, will get up and grab you a blanket. Or when she breaks for lunch, she’ll cut fruit for herself and for you, without you asking. And Wally, who tells you that whatever you want, whether it be for something he cooks at home or something to-go or something at the store, he will get it for you. One day, you find yourself craving some Chinese food. Wally does you one better and, instead of dropping by any of the Chinese places in Gotham, runs all the way to the country in question to grab all of you dinner. 

Of course, for the fastest man alive, it’s nothing.

You preoccupy most of your time either watching TV, reading, or helping Linda with her book. She’s in the copyediting stage now, so you lend a hand. 

Other times, she helps you, usually by taking a break from copyediting, the two of you doing little practice press sessions, reminiscent of those times in Keystone; except now, knowing you and past the social boundaries of a stranger, she does not spare mercy—both with her questions and whatever scenario she dreams up, then her critiques at the end of it. Wally pitches in, too, and he can be a real pain in the ass about it just like her, with sneaky underhanded phrasing that trips you up too frequently. But what better way to learn than from them?

You’re all staying at a two-bedroom AirBnB in Old Gotham. Your studio wasn’t big enough to accommodate all of you. You don’t exactly mind it, since the AirBnB is really nice, much nicer than your shitty apartment, but it was all incredibly stressful for a little bit because you got let go from Circle K. And while you have savings, those savings are supposed to be for school, covering the rest of tuition and textbooks that financial aid doesn’t cover. 

But Steph came through on that, once again reiterating the offer to stay with her and Crystal at their house rent-free—an offer you accepted, given your situation. You were able to exit on your lease with minimal issue—mostly because you only had a month of it left—and she, Crystal, Wally, and Linda worked to get your things packed and moved out. You couldn’t offer much help other than directing where you wanted things to go and what you wanted to take with you to the AirBnB. 

According to Dr. Scott, your healing timeline is six to eight weeks. But you should be able to be on your own at four to five weeks. You have a follow-up appointment four weeks from when you were discharged where they’ll look at it and remove the stitches. 

But two and a half weeks after discharge has all of you scrutinizing the wound very closely after your shower. 

“It looks good,” Linda offers. “Much better than before.”

Wally makes a sound of agreement. In his lap, eight-month-old Wade West has a cold teething ring in his mouth; he joined you a few days ago and you have grown fond of him, as you’ve volunteered to feed him or play with him when his parents were busy doing something else. Your recovery has given you that luxury. But the pace at which you are healing has you a little… curious. 

Which leads to now. 

“It’s only been two weeks, though,” you point out. “But it looks like I’m at four weeks and ready for the stitches to come out.”

“Is it bothering you?” he asks, frowning. 

Wade throws his teething ring. Wally snatches it up without looking away from you, pressing it back into his son’s hands. 

“No, but it’s just… it’s weird, right?”

He and Linda share a look. 

“What is it?” you ask, immediately knowing they’re hiding something. They’d looked like that for a while before broaching the subject of bringing Wade here. The twins were doing just fine and video-called frequently, but they most likely enjoyed the freedom the Garrick's (and the West-Allen's) afforded them as the de facto grandparents willing to let quite a bit slide, at least in comparison to their parents. 

Wade, on the other hand, is still just a baby. He needs his parents. And you suspect his parents need him, too, so you agreed. Insisted, if anything, that they take him back. They’ve been happier because of it and that makes you happy. 

But two weeks together, with all the truths laid out, allows you a closer insight into your friends. (Still odd to call them that, but again, it’s something else. A friend combined with a sister and a brother and an uncle and an aunt and maybe something a little parent-adjacent, too. Weird. But you guys, ultimately.)

Wally makes a funny face. Linda purses her lips. 

“Is it bad?”

“No,” they say quickly, glancing at each other, then looking at you. 

“It’s, uh,” Wally winces. “It’s a side effect of, well, me.”

“You?” you ask, frowning. You know a fair bit of information about his powers, about the… speed force. The energy in which he and all the other speedsters draw energy from. 

“There are side effects to associating with us,” he admits. “Nothing dangerous, mind you. But… side effects nonetheless.”

“When I was pregnant with the twins and Wade, I was able to tap into the speed force,” Linda puts in. “But as soon as they were born, it was gone.”

You frown, lowering your shirt. “But that’s not what’s going to happen to me, right? I mean, that happened to you just ‘cause the kids had part of his DNA?”

“Yes,” Wally says, nodding. “It’s just—it’s not unprecedented. We don’t know entirely why side effects manifest but we know it usually happens with those we spend a lot of time with. And I mean, a lot of time.”

“But there’s a social component as well,” Linda adds. 

“A social component?”

“I care about you,” Wally says bluntly and you jolt at the fact of it, eyes widening. “And that plays a part. Generally, for a speedster’s family and close friends, if they spend enough time with them, they can age more slowly, like we do. And there is a small healing factor as well. Not as quick as mine but still faster than if you weren’t around me. You’re also immune to my lightning. It won’t hurt you. And truthfully…”

Now he hesitates. You can’t imagine what it must be. He said all that other stuff easily and it’s not an easy thing to grapple with, is it? 

But it doesn’t put you off. 

It’s… it’s honestly hard to swallow. The enormity of it. What it means. 

I care about you. 

“What?” you ask quietly. 

He sighs. “I could’ve maybe healed you from the get-go. I’ve done it before with a friend but I didn’t know if it would hurt you and I didn’t want to take my chances.”

“No, I understand. This is…” you gesture vaguely. “I mean, this is enough, isn’t it?”

He looks like he wants to say more but thinks better of it, nodding at your words. You don’t try to pry, either. 

“Will it be a problem during the check-up?” you ask next. “I don’t want you to get caught.”

“I’m sure stranger things go on,” Linda says. “Looking too closely isn’t good for anyone.”

“If push comes to shove, we can get you looked at by a doctor with the League,” he adds. “And they won’t notice if you bail on your follow-up, either. Like Lin said, way too much happens in this city for them to extend the effort.”

Well, getting looked at by a doctor with the literal Justice League feels like a bit much but needs must, you guess. 

The more physical side effects aren’t the only things going on. 

Nightmares plague you frequently these days. 

Of the attack itself, sometimes when you’ve switched places with Steph or Wally or Linda or Tim and you can do nothing but watch them get hurt. 

Then of your visit from Batman. 

Sometimes it’s him doing it, with a batarang, and the agony, the burning, it feels too real, combined with that night at the store, when he spooked you in the dark. 

It has you waking up in the middle of the night crying and your wound aching from your thrashing. Even worse when you wake up to the darkness of the room, your eyes summoning figures in the shadows. 

They both intervene accordingly. 

“Would punching him in the face make you feel better?” Wally wonders one night. “Because I can do that. He wouldn’t even see it coming.”

“It’s true,” Linda adds. “And you know he would deserve it this time.”

“He deserves it a lot of the time. It’s just that Superman says we need to talk out our problems. As if he and Wonder Woman don't want to regularly break his jaw. Besides," he says, a tad petulant now, "I know the importance of communication. I’m married. But he never gets that memo so if words don’t work, what else can you do?”

Punch him, being the clear unspoken answer. 

Well. 

You stare up at your ceiling, partially illuminated by the night light Linda plugged in. She sprawls out on your left, while Wally is on your right. It’s a bit of a tight squeeze on the Queen-sized bed, since Wally has a decidedly stocky frame but you three make it work. 

You didn’t have a nightmare tonight but that’s mostly because you haven’t yet gone to sleep. Your sleep schedule, over the past few days, has suffered. They noticed. They always do. 

“No,” you mutter. “That won’t help. It’d just make him more aware of me.”

And that awareness is the thing that makes you tetchy. 

After all, will there be some kind of repercussion for knowing what you do? Will he come to drive home another message, another threat about what you know?

You haven’t asked Steph about it and you certainly haven’t asked Tim, either, since you both still haven’t spoken since that night at the hospital (and that is a whole other thing plaguing you, too, but you digress). 

Linda takes your hand and squeezes it gently, comfortingly. On your other side, Wally does the same. 

The reassurance from both of them overwhelms you for a second. You aren’t looking forward to when they have to go back to Keystone. It’s selfish, you know, but they care for you with no strings attached. Because they want to. Because they choose to. 

Maybe you should’ve fought harder against it, at letting all these new people in. Just… more ways for you to get hurt. But that didn’t work with Steph and it didn’t work for Tim. 

Besides… you’re tired of denying yourself these kinds of comforts. You deserve it, don’t you? After everything? 

It is quiet for another moment. Linda holds your hand in hers, a steady reassurance. Wally’s thumb moves back and forth continuously over the back of your hand. It’s no less comforting. 

Finally, he takes a deep breath. You prepare for a serious opener, something about seeing a therapist, something about, once again, using League resources, because that way, it won’t cost anything and you could talk about your experiences freely. But instead…

“I could go back in time and stop him from ever confronting you?” 

The snort you let out is unbidden. You don’t even know why. Time travel is something he can do. Insanely enough.

But then Linda giggles. 

And you, a little sleep deprived, a little emotional, can’t stop yourself from dissolving into laughter, too. The kind that makes you light-headed. 

On your other side, Wally lets out a snort of laughter that makes you and Linda laugh harder. 

For a moment, all of you are laughing and laughing and laughing and everything is right in the world. 

Naturally, in the morning, things go downhill.

Mostly by you making the mistake of turning on the TV.

Wally and Linda aren’t news-type people. At least not here. Linda, because she said she’d get too big of an urge to go out there and chase leads, and Wally because he said he’d also want to go out there and save the day and that would royally piss Batman off and that relationship was already fraught with tension. 

Not to say they stayed away completely. When going out, they checked out what was going on, kept track of which parts of the city to stay away from if there was something going on. 

For your part, you wanted to take a step away from reality. Needed it, really. 

This morning was a simple mistake. You had Wade in your lap, Wally making breakfast, Linda settling down at the desk to start her edits. You were just trying to find the cartoons Wade was so fond of watching when you landed on GNN.

Then the TV was showing a chaotic scene at the Museum of Antiquities, saying something about a hostage situation and the shot abruptly shifted to the roof, zooming in on the figures there, Red Robin, Tim, and Signal, barely visible from the ground but recognizable all the same, and then a gunshot, ear-piercing even through the TV, and you managed to catch sight of Tim collapsing before everything devolved into chaos, footage shaky, people screaming, someone yelling.

It hits you quickly. Too quickly for even Wally to do something. 

In a blink, the TV is shut off and Wade is taken from you, shifted into Linda’s arms as she and Wally speak to you, but their words fuzz out in your ears, muffled as if you are underwater and the weight on your chest is crushing and you can’t breathe because you might’ve just seen Tim die and the thought consumes you until there is nothing else. 

When you resurface next, you’re curled up on your bed, with the world’s worst headache throbbing in your head and a bone-deep exhaustion still plaguing you. Wally is there, too.

The door is closed but you can hear Linda cooing at Wade, his high-pitched giggles are easily audible. 

Wally plays a game on his phone. Fruit Ninja. His thumbs move so fast, they blur a little bit, but he still manages to get one of the bombs, cursing as he does so. 

You watch him do that for a while but eventually, he gets tired of it, shutting off his phone and turning to look at you.

“So.”

You wiggle onto your side, picking at a loose thread in the blanket.

“Is he…” your voice catches, throat tightening. “Do you know if…”

“He’s okay,” he says gently. “It was just a graze.”

Is it bad, you wonder, that you don’t ask about the hostages? About what that whole situation was about? That you only care to hear what happens to Tim?

You don’t know.

What you do know is that you’ve lost so much. You’re still scared to lose it. 

You can’t lose him.

But you don’t get a say in that, do you? 

“I’m not fond of the kid,” Wally says a minute later, green eyes carefully scanning your face as he props his head on his palm. “If only because of this whole situation…”

“Tim isn’t bad,” you whisper. “He’s just… a little misguided at times.”

By now, after the rush of emotions calmed down, after settling into something like a routine, you’ve been able to think about it. You’re still hurt by what he did but you can understand why he did it. 

Mostly… mostly, you miss him so much it hurts. 

Your more physical wound is healing nicely but there’s still an emotional one inside you; it scabbed over in these weeks away but now, it’s open and raw and you just want…

You just want Tim. 

So much. 

You didn’t think it was possible to want someone this much.

But you’ve never done this before, you’ve never had something like this before… and you’re scared. 

You almost miss Wally’s next words, caught up in your own head. 

“You’re putting it very nicely,” he’s saying, “but I won’t disagree. I don't, actually, which is kind of… really annoying.”

You latch onto that, that brief diversion, if only for just a moment. "Annoying in the conventional way?"

"You have to ask?"

"You are a strange, strange man, Wally West. I do need to ask."

The laugh he lets out is full-bellied and warm. You smile, too, affection settling warm and sweet in your chest, briefly chasing away the pricks of sadness.

"No," he says, chuckling. "It's not in the conventional way. It's mostly because I do see that he is misguided. And I know how and why he is like that."

Right.

To be honest, you haven't thought much on it. On what other knowledge comes with knowing Tim and Steph's identities. It's a leap, but from what you've gleaned, from what you know of Tim's relationship with his adoptive father, what you know of Steph's opinion of him…

Well. It makes sense. And it makes you ache, thinking of the distance Tim tries to put between him and Bruce, of the things you have learned not just about Bruce Wayne but Batman, too. 

A frown mars Wally's handsome features now, grass-green eyes distant, fixed on a spot on the wall next to the bed. "I've always kind of known, I guess. But being confronted with it directly is something else entirely. And I do get it. I can see why he's like that. I don't consider myself a paragon of communication and expressing feelings and my parents were really… not great at all, but I had Aunt Iris. Then Barry and Jay and Max and… I don't know. I guess it's just the dad in me. Having child sidekicks is hardly a new thing in the community and questionable at times but what really matters is the mentorship. He is capable. I can see that. But from what I've seen here, I wonder if both sides of him have had the same amount of direction. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah," you whisper. "That makes a lot of sense."

Finally, he looks at you. "But we can't change the past. And if you'd like to keep him around, which I suspect you do, maybe…" He trails off but you understand what he is leaving unspoken and the thought softens you. Wally is so good. Prideful and annoying and short-tempered at times but ultimately good. All of them are. 

"And on that topic," he continues, eyebrows raising a bit. "I think… for you… it’s time to see him.”

You stay quiet and continue fiddling with the loose thread. Wally’s hand finds yours, squeezing it gently, reassuringly. You get the message even though he doesn’t say anything.

No matter what happens, we’re here. I’m here.

You let out a shuddery breath. 

“Does it ever… scare you? Caring so much?” Loving so much?

“Terrifies me,” he agrees easily. “I have a long list of enemies who would love to—take Linda and the kids away. Kill them or worse. But worse has happened before. We manage to get through it each time. And for you… you love him, don’t you?”

You bite your lip. “I… I do.”

He nods, not appearing surprised by your agreement. “He loves you, too, you know. Even that’s clear to me.”

“But is that enough?”

“Sometimes it’s not. But you have to try, anyway. Who knows what you’ll find if you do? And what you might lose if you don’t?”

You know what he must be thinking about. 

Being with Linda couldn’t have been an easy choice for him. The Flash is just as known as Wonder Woman or Superman. The title comes with its baggage and its enemies. But he did it, anyway. They both did and look at what they have now. A marriage, a family, a home together. 

You keep thinking that you can’t lose Tim and it remains true but… you never stopped to consider what your part might be in that. Not for the danger that might take him away from you but… your own feelings regarding it. Whether you can do this with him, take this leap and change everything for the two of you. 

You can.

You have to.

“You look like you just had a come-to-Jesus moment. I’m great, aren’t I?”

You smile. “You are, Wally. You really are.”

He flushes a bit but the smile he returns is still bright. “Just for you, kid. But honestly, please, it kind of kills me to give you romantic advice regarding Batman’s kid. I won’t say no to it! Just, you know. Get together already.”

“Are you going to be nice?”

“Only if he’s nice,” he shoots back.

“Honestly, Wally. You’re the oldest one here.”

“So? He’s twenty-one, not thirteen.”

“You’re ridiculous. Also, do I need to say something similar to Linda?”

“Do you need to say something similar to Linda? Um, yes. She’s worse than me.”

“I stand corrected. You both are ridiculous.”

But you would be lying if you said you wanted to change that. 

Steph comes over a little while later. Linda texted her about your… moment. She and Wally exchange places and she stays with you, comforting you and reassuring you that Tim is okay. 

“Tim’s a rubber ball,” she says to you, curling a piece of your hair on her finger, your head in her lap as the two of you watch Lizzie McGuire. “He’ll bounce back.”

“That’s not as comforting as it sounds.”

She lets out a soft chuckle. “Well, it’s that and, according to him, he isn’t going to die before he gets to see you again.”

Your breath catches in your throat. “Steph…”

“Not lying. He was a bit delirious from some mild blood loss and the pain but that’s usually when he’s his most honest. So.”

“That’s horrible. You know that, right?”

“Hey, tell that to him. I’m just stating the facts.”

“Well,” you swallow nervously, your eyes on your laptop perched on the end of the bed but nothing in the show registering for you as you prepare to ask your next question. “Then… in that case… did he… mention anything about doing that?”

“He didn’t say anything but knowing him, I wouldn’t be surprised if he disobeyed the clear order for bedrest and came to see you tonight.”

“What—? He better not—”

“No use in trying to stop him,” she says. “I think today was a push for both of you. And when Tim sets his mind to something, you and I both know there isn’t any stopping him.”

That… yeah, that is true. But that bullet grazed his neck. Somehow, it managed not to damage anything vital. A graze, that’s all it was, but still.

“He’s such a handful,” you mutter.

Steph grins. “Yeah. But that’s half the fun with him, isn’t it?”

Your face goes hot and you mutter something noncommittal. She laughs. 

Despite her words, you still think you need to reach out, too.

So, when she leaves before dinner, having promised to spend the evening with Crystal, you pick up your phone and take the leap.

steph said you were probably going to come over tonight so we can talk

i think it’s a good idea too, although i would like for you to rest and recuperate from your near-miss today at least for a couple days

Your heart climbs to your throat as you see him quickly read the text. You stand from the bed, leaving your phone there as a restless, nervous energy filling you. You pace until your phone vibrates with a new text. 

i want to see you

It’s simple. Five little words.

Five words that leave you feeling oddly breathless with the weight of them.

Because you know.

You know.

He should know, too.

i want to see you too

but i can go to you, you know

i know

i’ll drop by your fire escape at 11:30

is that okay?

That last one comes a minute later after the first two and you smile. Tim can be bossy. You and Steph have given him plenty of shit for it. He’s gotten better at realizing it, too.

sure

just give me a warning before you try knocking on my window or something

until then please actually rest???

i will :)

It’s familiar. Not much, really, but it makes you smile, anyway, and you fall back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling, feeling like a giddy teenager. 

Obviously, you two have a lot to talk about. And you’re still mad at what he did but like you said, you understand. You just have to make sure he doesn’t keep you in the dark again like that and more importantly, that he doesn’t double-cross you. Because that’s what it was, in a way. He crossed a line, so many lines, coming to you as Red Robin. Continuing to come to you as Red Robin. It was dishonest and you hate the way it makes you feel.

But you can move past it.

You want to move past it. 

You both feel the same, don’t you? 

The thought overwhelms you, your face burning hot.

Man. You haven’t actually thought about that until now. But… that’s why. That is the core of everything. And Tim’s questionable ways in which he handled that aside… it seems to be an inalienable truth.

He feels the same.

Tim Drake, for whatever reason, feels the same as you do. 

Hell, look at what Wally said. 

He loves you, too, you know. Even that’s clear to me.

You’ll make it work.

You both will.

reblogs are appreciated!

taglist: @peachesona @knoxx-seresinbradshaw @kikis-writing-service @sweetistic @soundsfunbutno @ginevraxrogers @fridaenpina @skcj24 @bath1lda @only-cherry-blossom @laughydaphne @fhrjrirj @iamthesimpmother @alittlelateforstars @thaliadoesthings @scarlett13 @zelabee @coffee-love-alltheabove @benstormy @sad-girl09 @lockofspades @thereallchristine @thatonecroc @1lellykins @jelsafan0 @hearttjason @kno-way-home @moniverse05 @bat-h-tic @ghostindeath @escapism-r-us @plnkbees @gabrielle-tia @a-candle-maker @randobeetlehouse @solaris-love @blueberrygeniejam @th1s-b1tch-1s-dead

[ask to be tagged! either in my inbox or here! ^_^]

[dizzyjelly]

Good Morning, Ellie Williams

Word Count: 2.4k

Part 2 here

Summary: You’ve liked Ellie for a while, and seeing her is the highlight of your day. But she doesn’t like you, in fact, sometimes she can’t stand you. After being fed up with all her tormenting one day, you flip out and have to deal with your school principal. After this, Ellie reveals her true feelings for you.

A/n: The idea of this fic actually came from a real-life experience I had, but it is not at all the same in this story lmao. I don’t really like the ending I gave this and I honestly wanna make a part 2 but I wanna know what you guys think before I start part 2. I’m working on 3 other fics rn and I think you guys are really going to like them!

It was your favorite part of the day. Not lunch or when the last bell rang, but seeing her. You’d liked her for a while now, so she was your favorite part of the day. And you knew you weren’t hers, for some reason, she just couldn’t seem to get along with you. But, despite that, you’d still greet her every morning. A frown would find its way to your lips if she was absent.

She never missed school unless she had to though. So, every morning like clockwork, you’d walk into your fourth-hour class and sit down. You’d put your bag underneath your desk and as you pulled in your chair you’d say,

“Good morning Ellie Williams.” With a smile, always with a smile.

Even if she didn’t like you all that much, she was kind enough to respond. Most of the time all you got was a nod and a hum, but sometimes you’d get more. You almost gasped the one time she said ‘good morning’ back to you. Not with a smile. But still, you were over the moon.

She never said good morning, instead she’d say ‘yeah’ or ‘hey’ or nothing at all. You tried not to, but you smiled from ear to ear for the rest of that class. Ellie noticed, and she felt good about making you smile. That was until she quickly reminded herself you two were not friends.

Today was like any other, you sipped on your water bottle as you walked into class. The bracelet you wore slid down your wrist since it was a size too big. You found your way to your chair and your bag was set neatly on the floor in no time.

“Good morning Ellie Williams.” You faced her with a smile.

She glanced up at you from her phone, squinting as if she was unsure about you.

“Hey.” She spoke dryly, clearly uninterested in you.

You sighed softly then pulled out your phone, scrolling mindlessly as you thought about the auburn haired girl sat beside you. Maybe one day she’d change, be nicer to you. Maybe she’d even smile at you.

“Your bracelet is too big.” She comments, you look over and see her eyes fixated on your bracelet.

“So?” You shrug, returning your attention to your phone.

“Whatever..” She rolls her eyes and then looks back at her phone.

Why was she looking at your bracelet anyways? Was she.. admiring you? It was weird of her to notice such a specific detail about you. And just yesterday she’d helped you clean up the contents of your pencil case after a spill. She was being nicer. Weird.

The next ten minutes of class were spent listening to your teacher explain today’s schedule. You guys were going to be working in the library, which you’d enjoy. The library at your school was pretty and it had great AC. The following ten minutes consisted of packing your things up and walking down to the library.

Once you got there your teacher told you to pick partners. You panicked. None of your friends were in this class, the only person you really knew was Ellie. But, much to your surprise, she looked your way. A head nod was her way of asking to be your partner. With a small sigh, you stood beside her and waited to receive your assignment.

After the teacher handed out your papers, you smiled at Ellie. She kind of just.. stared at you. You ignored this and started to read the instructions off the paper. Your assignment was to pick out a book you’ve read and do a report on it. All the information you needed was laid out in the rubric. You and Ellie now stood at a bookcase, pulling out random books and reading the titles.

“I don’t read.” She whispers to you after a few minutes.

“I figured, don’t worry, I read.” You shrugged with a chuckle.

“Ok..” She cleared her throat and just stood there awkwardly while you kept searching through books.

“These bookcases are so fuckin’ fancy..” You chuckled softly, “I bet if you pull the right book, a secret passage will open.” You joked, looking over at Ellie.

She chuckled. You looked over at her, and realized, she wasn’t laughing at your joke. She was laughing at you. At you. She sighed and looked away from you.

You pursed your lips into a thin line, not saying any more as you continued to look through books. You’d finally found one and then you and Ellie walked over to a nearby couch in the library, sitting down and taking out your papers. After a few minutes of you doing all the work, and Ellie just sitting and watching, she finally said something.

“I wasn’t trying to be a dick earlier. Sorry.” She whispers to you, your face goes red at her apology.

She is being too nice. What the hell.

“Why are you being so nice?” You whisper back, not even saying it’s ok because you were too focused on her attitude change.

“What do you mean? When am I not nice to you?” She asks back, as if she was friendly and kind all the time.

You turned to stare at her with a confused expression. She looked back with a similar one, and you realized she was being serious.

“Do you know how many times I’ve said good morning to you?” You ask, not giving her time to answer. “We’ve been in school 67 days, and I’ve told you good morning 65 times. Minus two days because you were out for the flu that one time. You have said good morning to me once.” You explained, Ellie was surprised.

Not only that you’d kept track of when she wasn’t in school, but your math was surprisingly good.

“I’m mean because I don’t tell you good morning?” She asks.

You sigh, clearly she didn’t get the point.

“Whatever. It doesn’t matter, let’s just get this over with..” You sighed, focusing back on your work.

Ellie nodded and didn’t say anything else, just watching you write with her hands rested in her lap. You worked silently as well, not bothering to try and make any kind of small talk. She’d either laugh at you again, or just be weird and nice.

As your teacher came by, Ellie tried to pretend she was doing something. Whrn your teacher asked if she was helping, you nodded and said ‘of course’ even though she’d done jackshit. It didn’t matter to you, and you weren’t interested in getting Ellie into any kind of trouble.

She smiled at you, but you just stared down at the paper. She sighed, sitting back and watching you work. Eventually class ended and it was time for lunch. You got up and slinged your bag over your shoulder. You made your way to the lunchroom and sat with your usual friends, taking your lunch out of your bag and unpacking it.

While you wouldn’t know it, Ellie watched you. She watched the way you threw your head back when you laughed, or how you  gasped with a smile at something your friends said. She smiled seeing you so happy. She’d realized she’d come to like you, maybe more than a friend. Definitely more than a friend.

As Ellie made this realization, she tried harder and harder to distance herself from you. At first she got nicer, but then she got mean again. Really mean. You were tired of it. She’d already been ignoring your daily greetings for two weeks, and for the past week she’d been throwing insults your way.

You’d had enough, it was a Friday and you were just tired. That morning, your mom picked a fight with you like she always does. And she said something they’d make you cry, like she always does. The result of this being a tear-soaked face with runny mascara that you rushed to wipe clean before getting on the school bus.

Despite Ellies tough act, you’d still be giving her a good morning. Not today though. You were just done. It was too much, she’d been too mean. While it was mostly because of the argument with your mother, you felt hurt. And Ellie was partially responsible for that.

After you walked into class, you set your bag down and sat in your chair. You angled your body away from Ellie, taking out your phone and busying yourself. She let out a short, bitter laugh.

“No good morning?” She teased.

You gave her nothing, still. Silence was what her question was met with. Ellie put her phone down and adjusted herself, her brows furrowed as she was genuinely a little worried for you.

“What’s up with you..?” She asks softly, moving her chair closer to yours.

When you continued to not say a word, she nudged you by pushing her foot against your shin lightly. You sighed, finally turning to face her.

“Stop it Ellie” your voice was stern, “I’m really not in the mood, ok?” You gave her a dirty look.

“What do you even mean? I’m just trying to ask you what’s wr-“ She tries to defend herself, but you cut her off.

“I don’t fucking care! Honestly, everyday you pretend to care, or even give a shit, about me, I just get less and less patient! I am so done with all your bullshit, you’re such a liar!” You were just emotional now, knowing no boundaries as you yelled at her, "and you're mean." tears filled your eyes now.

As you saw your teacher approaching you from the corner of your eye, they spilled. You’d been beyond embarrassed, the entire class having just heard your meltdown. Ellie had an unreadable expression on her face. Her mouth hung open, her eyes wide but her brows furrowed.

She panicked when your teacher came over. You buried your head in your arms on the table.

“Uh.. Ms. Y/L/n, you’re going to have to go to the office..” She whispers to you.

You didn’t care at this point, why should you? Your mother already berated you so much earlier this morning that you might not even shed a tear at how disappointed she would tell you she was. As you walked to the office, your cheeks ran red with embarrassment from how badly you just freaked out.

Now, you sat in the waiting area of the office. Your leg bounced up and down so fast and aggressively you thought the floor might break. And then you thought you might actually die when Ellie walked in and sat beside you. Your heart nearly stopped when she leaned over and whispered in your ear.

“Said I was going to the bathroom, wanted to come and clear things up. I’m gonna make sure you don’t get in any kind of trouble..” She tries to reassure you.

And, even if you kind of hated her. Even if she made you cry before you went to bed sometimes. It worked. You let out a small sigh of relief, turning to face her. Due to how close she’d already been to whisper to you, your faces were just inches away. Your noses nearly touched. You pulled back, and looked down.

“I’m.. sorry.” You spoke quietly, trying your best not to cry again.

“I know.” She says back.

Before anything else could be said by either of you, the principal came and called your name. You stood and walked into her office, and Ellie followed not far behind. Once you were in there, the principal proceeded to play the school's camera footage of what went down in class.

Your face was red hot, and you looked away as much as you could. Your principal tsked and sighed, eyeing you and Ellie.

“I don’t even know why Ellie is here, but Y/n, you have to know this kind of behavior is unacceptable.” You were so ready to defend yourself, but Ellie beat you to it.

“Miss, with all due respect, this wasn’t her fault. I have not been the kindest to her, in fact I’ve been terrible to her. I’ve insulted and tormented her, I’ve been unfair. She didn’t deserve any of that.” Ellie's eyes were on you as she said that last sentence.

You were too busy panicking that you might get suspended to notice her gaze. But, after some hard convincing and agreeing to a good amount of after-school detention, the principal let you stay. However, she did ask you take the rest of today off, and told you it’d be a good idea to stay home Monday as well. You had no idea how you’d explain your mandatory absences to your parents, but you were just beyond thankful the principal didn’t call them. After thanking your principal, you left her office as fast as you could.

Ellie followed and she started to walk with you, even though the class was in the other direction. You didn’t say a word at first, but as you reached the exit doors you turned to face her.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to do that.” You had mixed feelings about Ellie right now.

“I did. You’re welcome, and I really am sorry for how I’ve treated you.” She apologized, and she actually sounded genuine.

“Yeah.” You sighed, you weren’t going to tell her it was ok because it wasn’t, “can I just ask, why were you so mean to me anyway?” you noticed the way Ellie starts to fidget with her hands nervously, and how she looks away from you.

“It’s a defense mechanism I guess,” she says, still not making eye contact with you, “I didn’t know how to deal with the fact that I actually like you so, I acted like I hated you.” She sighs, feeling embarrassed of the way she acted.

“You like me? Like as a friend, or..?” you ask, your cheeks reddening with blush again, there was no way she meant what you hoped she did.

“Um, more than that. I know I give pretty shitty signals but yeah, surprise, I like like you..” she sighs again.

“I like like you too.” You whispered.

<3 ------ <3

It was safe to say everyone in school was shocked when you returned Tuesday. Not only because you didn’t get suspended, but also because of how well you and Ellie were getting along. You felt insecure because there was lots of talk about your freak-out. But Ellie, who was trying to prove herself to you, did her best to quickly and quietly shut all of that down. She was pretty successful too.

And now, every time you say good morning, she says it back.

[lilxmoo]

Little things Amie and Jay did in AC that are actually quite important and I think deserve recognition

KAL👏 NOT 👏 BEING 👏CREEPY 👏 like guys he could have been a weird Jacob from Twilight "i imprinted on you" SO EASILY. But instead, by offering to leave and by always respecting Auri as a person before all else (throughout the whole series btw, it didn't stop once they're together), they actually show that he genuinely loves her rather than just being creepily attached to her against her will. Every step in their relationship is decided by Aurora, giving her full autonomy, but she ALSO asks for consent from him so they don't just assume he's ok with whatever just because they're bonded. It could have been so weird but they dodged that bullet really well

SCARLETT IS NEVER SLUTSHAMEDDD!!! I didn't think about til recently, but having a female character who is sexually active, sexualizes herself and has many partners is never a joke in this series, which is wonderfully refreshing. In fact, it's a subtle but really helpful insight to her character, with her desire to be loved instead of just loving, how detached she feels from her dad and her general desire to experience attachment that she hasn't always received. It's also not something she does simply because "she has to", she genuinely likes it, and that's never painted as a bad thing.

Having a queer character be religious. The whole United Faith thing is never really explored (which is probably good, it could have gotten way too political way too quick), but it's clearly inspired by Christianity. With Finian being both part of what is essentially a Christian and also a bisexual man is such good subtle representation that I WISHH there was more of in media. Just a silent acknowledgement of, "hey, these things don't have to be separate, being both is ok "

No alien species is wrong, and no conflict has a clear right side. Again, kinda under explored for the sake of trying to not be super political, but there is a silent yet pretty pointed show that every conflict is pretty grey. They don't justify murder or racism, but they kinda show, "hey, terrans and Syldrathi BOTH did good and bad things in this war. Terra attacked innocent Syldrathi, but Jericho Jones was a peacemaker. The Syldrathi did not ask for war, but Caersan was still a mass murderer anyways." Just an extra tiny layer of depth which helps with it feeling more real.

Subverting the, "I can fix him/her" trope. The characters aren't "fixed" by their love interests. Their growth is inspired by their partners, but also by their friends and experiences, which is much nicer. They say, "you CAN'T fix them. But you can encourage them to grow", and I really like that, I think its much healthier.

Neurodivergency. I'm not sure if Zila is actually meant to be autistic, but as someone on the spectrum myself, I definitely see her there. And her not understanding social ques isn't painted as something she needs to learn, it's painted as something EVERYONE ELSE needs to accept. Not change themselves for, that's important, but accept. Whenever someone criticizes her for her lack of social awareness, it's not a joke or a narrative criticism of her, etc the "You understand how everything works except other people" line. If anything, they are showing us that she does have feelings, that empathy is still important for her even if that's not something that's actively shown, and that these types of statements are hurtful, not helpful.

Trauma has consequences. Amie and Jay have talked about this in interviews, but they have always said that they stop believing a story when a character dies and then everyone just moves on, because that's not realistic. And that really helps the story and characters feel believable. Cat's death isn't only shown through Tyler being kinda sad. Every single character grieves her, not because they were close but because they knew her, which is very realistic, and for Tyler specifically she quite literally haunts his narrative, just like real death does, especially of such a violent kind. His grief drives him to make decisions which end up changing the course of the story, as does Kal's trauma with his dad, and everyone's past experiences, they all matter, and drive the storyline forward. Very realistic and very well-done.

They end the story where it needs to end. I'm a big advocate for not stretching out stories beyond where they need to go, and they do it well. Like, it's a sci fi space opera, they could've made it fifteen books long if they wanted, or made sure they had enough books for every squad member to have a cover of their own (which i wouldve loved to see, but anyways), but instead they said, "this is where and how it needs to end, and we're not gonna milk it."

Representation is subtle. The best kind, in my opinion, is when it feels real, and here it does. Fin and zila aren't constantly discussing being queer, they just have a conversation about if Saedii is hot, similar to Scarlett teasing Auri about Kal. Aurora being half Chinese isn't more important than her being half Irish, they both matter but neither overshadow her as a person. They become reminders of home, not reminders of her differences.

This was WAYYY too long, I apologize, but I was tryna think on why this story doesn't feel weird where in a lot of places it normally would. So here's my ramblings :D (noone is gonna care but oh well I put it out somewhere lol) anyway amie and jay know how to write surprise surprise

[vlyrn]

Theon Greyjoy

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S1 Theon is a chaser and no one can change my mind on this he just has that evil energy certain straight men have where they’re like ‘nooo it’s actually soooo hot and it would only be hotter if you topped’ so this is mildly inspired by how those sort of guys act around me if I present fem but in a much nicer way like I think he’s genuinely into her he’s just fumbling the bag rn

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Pride Series Day Eighteen - Trans

Wine in the Hayloft - c.ai , j.ai

In the hush of a hayloft after a night of stolen wine and quiet confessions, Theon sees Robb’s sister not as the boy she pretended to be, but as the vivid, becoming self she is now—and risks everything in a moment that startles them both into the truth of what they want, and what they’re not ready for.

The hayloft smelled of old straw and sweeter things—dried apples in a sack tucked behind a beam, last summer’s sun baked into the slats of the roof, and the faint hint of resin where someone had mended a broken post with pine pitch. Theon’s fingers were already sticky from the cheap Arbor red they’d stolen off the back table while everyone else had been too drunk or too distracted to care. The feast in the great hall had spilled into shouting and harp-song, and Robb had let them go with only a half-hearted warning, too caught up in his cups to notice Theon’s gaze lingering a second too long on his sister’s smile.

Neri had laughed when Theon pulled her by the wrist, threading them through the dark yard and past the kennels where the direwolves were asleep or pretending to be. Her eyes had been bright with mischief, hair wind-tousled under the moonlight, and something in Theon—some low-burning coal of hunger or defiance—had flared warmer just watching her climb the ladder to the hayloft ahead of him, her skirt catching briefly on the wood, the shape of her legs a blur in motion.

She was different. Different in all the ways that mattered and didn’t. Once she’d hidden behind a boy’s mask, once quiet and watchful in the shadow of Stark sons, now she was more herself—sharpened into someone truer, finer, more vivid than most in that grey, stone-walled place. Theon had seen the way the others looked past her, even when they used her name, even when they tried. Robb was kind but distracted, always half elsewhere. Catelyn watched with a brittle mouth. Even Arya, fierce little thing, still tripped over the newness of her.

But Theon noticed. He always had. He noticed the softness in her voice, the new ways she moved, the careful grace she was learning to wear like armor. He noticed the way she laughed easily but drank deeply, as if she knew too well that good things didn’t last long in the North. And more than anything, he noticed that she looked at him like he wasn’t just a ward or a reaving prince in borrowed furs, but someone real, someone worth hiding away with under a roof full of stars and dry straw and secrets.

They passed the bottle back and forth, legs dangling off the edge of the loft. Her shoulder brushed his once, twice. She smelled like pine soap and something warmer beneath, like sun-baked linen and skin. Theon wasn’t sure when the warmth in his belly turned sharp, when the lazy curl of contentment twisted into want. But it happened fast. The wine was too sweet, the hay too soft, the quiet too inviting.

And maybe it was the way her lips had stained a deeper red from the wine, or maybe it was the hush between them—comfortable and long—that made him lean in, slow and unthinking, drawn by instinct and fire and something gentler he wouldn’t name. His hand lifted, hovering near her jaw, and then his mouth found hers, soft, unsure.

But Neri went still beneath him. Stiff, unyielding. Theon’s breath caught. He pulled back at once.

Silence.

He stared at her, his pulse pounding, guilt rising like bile—but not shame. Not for the kiss. Not for what it meant.

“I don’t care,” he said, low and urgent, eyes fixed on hers. “I don’t care that you’re different to other girls. That you weren’t always this—” He broke off, jaw tightening, then softened. “You’re you. You’re her. That’s what matters. That’s all.”

His voice was husky, slurred a little from the drink, but every word landed like a promise. Not clean or simple, but real. And true.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

Masterlist

[mikamika06]

Immortal Flower:

Chapter 6

Water trickles down the rocks in the hot springs, creating a background noise to disturb the silence for Xianhua, as she takes a breath in of the air and shuts her eyes. Sweat perspires on her skin into droplets that trail down her curves because of the heat from it all, but it was quite a pleasant heat. Nothing that was too much or too little as it helped her make her muscles not feel as tense as they did almost nearly every day and to get a break that she hadn’t gotten as of late. One offered to her after a day of getting good revenue, and she found herself to be the only one in the hot spring.

But the solitude was disrupted by the door opening and another girl shuffling in.

“Sis?” The quiet voice calls out so Xianhua opens her eyes to see Xiaoling standing there. The girl had grown in the few months that Xia Yizhou had been gone and since she had interrupted them that day, and was adorned with bits and bobs and nicer clothes. Zhang Su was clearly favoring the girl, as she did to all the young servants that seemed to be looking a little more pretty as they went through puberty. The quickest ways to poach girls for work in the future. Zhang Su was a money hungry woman despite all the care she held in her heart.

“Yes? LingLing?” Xianhua coos softly to her which gives the girl a bit more confidence to step forward and sit on the edge near where Xianhua’s clothes were. Xiaoling still bites her lip gently before handing her a paper scroll, and utters Xianhua’s real name which causes her to sit up more and focus on Xiaoling.

“Qin Che told me to deliver a message to you” Xiaoling starts, and hands her the scroll. So Xianhua opened it and her eyes gaze over the contents of the scroll.

It was quite a short message and didn’t hold anything of value despite detailing that he had apparently planned a meeting with Zhang Su and her for tomorrow and advised her to not make any meetings with any other clients for it.

And there was nothing else, nothing that she necessarily was waiting for to know from him which causes Xianhua to let out a grumble in frustration but she just nods and throws the scroll across the room and sinks further down into the water.

“If he’s still here LingLing, tell him to scram”

“He left” Xiaoling informs her and that causes Xianhua to pout furthermore like a child and sink lower into the water. The heat prickled at her skin but it was good.

It was hard. It was hard being conflicted with what she wanted to do in her life as she just wanted Yizhou back. She hadn’t heard a single word from him in months, and it just seemed more and more that he was likely in the deceased just as she had heard now. Yet no word came back to the Red Lantern House of his passing, as officially the place that was her prison was in paperwork, his home of abode legally. And sometimes family would be lucky enough to get remains of the sorts of those that had fallen in combat, yet not a single thing had come to them about his passing or being alive. Just gossip of some new general in the war that she hadn’t chanced to hear the name of as no one really knew as it was an impromptu promotion and one done by the emperor in secret.

A bit in her hopes it was him though.

After Xiaoling leaves however, Xianhua takes it as time to get up as she waited long enough as she would rather not scar the child with the nude image of herself, and grabs her hanfu to get dressed. A slight purse of her lips because of her emotions as she ties her sashes together to hold her robes together and walks out into the main hallway and slinks her way back to her room. It was easy to avoid the main hall and the rooms for work as she made her way to her private quarters without much of a word shared with any girl that passed by. Though she gave them respectful nods as she did so.

And she spends the rest of the night once she gets to her room, undisturbed, even sleeping well and when she wakes up in the morning she feels quite good about herself and well rested. Until she did remember the message Qin Che forced Xiaoling to give. That soured her mood just a smidge, not much more. With Xianhua’s job she tended to work well with finding out what was more so the true intentions behind a person. And most men that requested her presence, it was easy to do so as a few words and acting helped spill secrets from their lips quickly. But Qin Che was a closed off one in that book, and the only thing she finds herself dealing with through him is how nice he is. Which pisses her off a little more. But she was finding herself warming up to Qin Che as he kept to his promise of being someone for her to lean on, and she’s found herself spending most of the extra time she usually did with Yizhou with Qin Che now. And he has significantly helped her as he is also working by her side to help her find out the name of the mystery general that has spread the rounds of gossip.

So whatever this meeting was she would reluctantly follow through to see exactly what it was.

But Xianhua did have a bit more time until the place opened, and when she assumed Qin Che would come by as he did work quite hard. Honestly it was impressive for a man of similar age to build as much power as he was hard, yet it was what came with inheritance. Qin Che built his father’s mercantile empire farther however, but it made him a busy man and more often than not his free times on work days were the night.

So Xianhua quickly runs out of the courtesan house and into the streets, worming her way through the countless number of people that were already out in the bright and early morning. In a distance she saw the lanterns marking the end of the pleasure district, which caused a smile to adorn her face and her to work through the throng of people quicker.

She had to find Qi Yu, as the man was one she had befriended through Yizhou, another man who worked in the military. But in more sensitive fields then Yizhou, and she knew that maybe he could have an insight on his status of life.

And soon she crossed the threshold out of the pleasure district and it was much easier to move as the pleasure district at this time of day was full of the people who spent nights at places leaving or those still drunk because of large quantities of alcohol consumption getting escorted off of the premises of many of the establishments. Yet it was technically a war time, Xianhua knew, so everyone was stressed in some way or another. Words of the enemy had reached the non military citizens quite recently so Xianhua knew they were currently facing a tough enemy from the west that has a significant amount of land. The picture of the current state of everything though had not been painted for the people so she doesn’t know who currently is losing or winning. But she guesses she’ll know the day she sees conflict herself up front or come back hearing how the war was won.

Back to finding Qi Yu however, Xianhua worked her way through the streets until she came to the military outpost that Yizhou would take her too and where they would mess around with his friends or Qi Yu. And it looked empty, which Xianhua guessed made sense as most were gone, but with a call of her real name she turns around to be face to face with Qi Yu. He snickers when she yelps at the surprise of him suddenly being there and stumbles back, but he leans forward to catch her before she falls on her ass.

“Yizhou would actually kill me if you got harmed” Qi Yu says as he pulls his hand off her before slipping his hands behind himself and leaning forward.

“What do you need, Missy?” His tone has a teasing lilt. Missy was his nickname for her, he’d never call her Xianhua as he openly expressed how disgusted the title made him quite often then not.

“Do you know how Yizhou is right now?” She asks him, and his frown drops. It was the only question she could think of asking him and fell from her lips without much thinking behind it.

“We have not been sent out to work much on this current spiel, all I know is spies have less than a pleasant ending with these barbarians so they’re even only sending certain people from my unit. I however haven’t had the chance to go out so I don’t know what those that are actually fighting are doing right now”

Qi Yu worked in espionage, it was his best kept secret around everyone else but those he was acquainted with, if you were close enough to him the man would rant and rant about his job.

Yet Xianhua got her answer, he wasn’t aware of if Yizhou was alive or not. So she lost this possible route to try too.

“Thank you then, Yu” She softly exhales out, crossing her arms. Which causes him to nod slightly before his lips quirk up in a smirk and he walks which prompts her to follow.

“Besides that sappy sad stuff, I was wondering if I could try my woman disguise and work a day alongside you and see how many men request me” He jokes, trying to lighten the mood. Xianhua does snort at the thought, prompting the mental image that appears as she stares into his eyes.

“Grandma would be completely okay with that, only if you let her keep the money you make”

“Deal”

The two giggle as Qi Yu leads her to a food vendor as he plans to distract her for as long as he can, grabbing a charcoal cooked squid on a stick and hands it to her as he then buys his own. He always preferred seafood over land animal meat, and let out a happy moan as he took a bite into it. Which she followed after and the taste of the squid and the fire was quite pleasant, and it seemed to be less rubbery than she expected it to be meaning that chef was oddly good at street food of all things.

Xianhua knew she’d have to take Yizhou back there someday.

She continues to talk with Qi Yu though, they walk over to a small river bed and sit on the grass at the side, joking and laughing together as the sun shifts colors. There’s a few folk that eye her with greedy stares but she ignores it, as best as she could and with the help of Qi Yu glaring his hardest at them. The feeling of grass below their hands steadied her and she just leaned back and took a long inhale of the air, her eyes watching as the clouds shift by in the sky.

“I think Yizhou is dead” She says, after a few long beats of silence between the two of them, and a grimace quickly makes it’s way onto Qi Yu’s face.

“Really?”

“There were some rumors going around his whole camp was killed”

A few more beats of silence.

“The Mongols. They’re scary. I don’t think the odds are in our favor with this whole thing” He answers truthfully, twirling his stick from the squid between his fingers as he stares up at the clouds as well. “When I went out of our country I heard whispers of them, they’re smarter than our own military and trained in ways we just… aren’t. Plus Missy, you aren’t missing anything out being involved in government affairs, it’s just riddled with corruption so we aren’t even a stable government right now”

That made her feel worse, but she just nodded. Words around the Red Lantern House clued her in enough on that whole thing. Xianhua sits up when she sees the lanterns over the bridge being turned on as the sky starts to shift hues as the sun sets, and she curses under her breath.

“I got to get back– sorry– duty calls” Xianhua tells him and she moves to stand up so he does as well.

“Let me walk you back”

The two of them just smile at each other before Xianhua nods and as they walk past a fire at another vendor’s place they both toss their sticks into it. The energy of the nightlife truly started arising around them, music, chatting, smells of food, all encompassing what made these streets alive. And when they got to the pleasure district it just got more crowded as compared to the morning this was the beginning of the major work rush. But the Red Lantern House stood tall at the end of the street, getting into both of their views as they crossed the threshold into the district. Xianhua heard more people talking about her as they walked past, and she knew it was because of her fame. Qi Yu knew that too, so he jokingly covered her with his sleeve as they walked the road together. But she didn’t push it away either, and it pained her to say goodbye to her friend but she just gave him a smile when they found themselves at the front of the establishment.

“Well, I’ll see you again” Xianhua says to him and Qi Yu almost gets a response back before he’s pushed to the side by a client trying to get into the house which causes Qi Yu to just shake his head with his own charming smile and wave her off before disappearing into the crowds behind him. And so Xianhua walks back into the building, not realizing that someone was expecting her and a reasonable upset as they had been waiting for awhile.

Zhang Su stood there at the front, quite disgruntled when she saw Xianhua and she quickly ran over to her. “You’re late! Come with me” Zhang Su grabs onto her sleeve and drags her even in front of other clients even making a fuss about it until she brings both of them into a back room where Qin Che was sitting as well, and he just seemed amused seeing Xianhua looking so frazzled.

“What do you two have to say that was so important?” Xianhua asks and Zhang Su just motions for her to sit down, so she does, and then she pulls out a contract. Zhang Su pushes it to Xianhua, and that prompts her to look down and read it. Then quickly look back up and at both of the two.

“You sold me to Qin Che for marriage?”

Xianhua’s bracelet, the one from Yizhou, sat proudly on her wrist and as she raised her hand in shock it caught the reflection from the light and reflected a warm brown light onto the paper in front of them.

It didn’t catch anyone’s attention though, as both opposing pairs of eyes were on Xianhua.

[nut-today]

Serendipity

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Her life finally stood up straight. Her hazard compass had stopped spinning. North was finally north. For once that day she finally can say 'Happiness!!!'

Just as she was mentally preparing for another questionable disaster, Nuraga called and told her he was next door. He was in Robi's flat. He-was-next-door!!!

"Katanya lo tinggal di sebelah ya? Ini kita ada makanan banyak, lo lagi di unit lo nggak? Kalo mau bisa ke sini ya—that if you feel safe enough around us,"

Audy chuckled hearing that.

Safe? That was an understatement. They were like an emergency call to her SOS, the 911 to her sexual abuse report, his call didn't just make her felt safe—She felt like toddler being invited to a tea party!

BISA! GUA BISAAAA!!

Audy dashed out of her flat.

Truth was, that night, Audy didn’t need anything grand. She just needed the presence of a company. Someone good, someone kind and nearby. And just when she thought her night couldn't get any worse, God's help came, as if He'd say, “You’ve suffered enough, girl. Here’s a little kindness.”

Yes, kindness!

Their invitation was technically an act of kindness. The kindness of that trio was real—That part was clear. But as soon as she entered the room, the vibe felt less 'Yaayyyy!' and more like a talent show audition—Audy blamed it on her nervous system! Her anxiety went through the roof.

"Haiiii!"

"Halooo!"

Robi’s unit was way nicer than she’d prepared for. It's what adulthood was supposed to look like—minimalist, unlike Audy's that was dominated by colorful and cartoon-ish interior.

The moment she walked in, the pantry light welcomed her. Soft, warm, reassuring yellow—the kind that usually said, “Relax, you’re safe here.” But her heart didn’t get the message. Just as her brain whispered, “Act natural,” she bumped into the pantry counter and made the glass hit the floor.

Clink!

Glad it was plastic. It clattered, not shattered.

Still Audy apologized though, "Maaf—"

"Nggak apa-apa...!!"

Thank God the bounced cup incident was the icebreaker. The vibe shifted, they were laughing and suddenly the awkwardness turned into easy smiles. Conversation flowed easily, they had their meals in the dining table, they shared laughter in between their meals, but when it comes to eye-contact Audy and Nuraga somehow managed to keep their gazes anywhere but on each other.

Robi noticed. He kept the chatter flowing, not making the awkward eye game stood too long. He then thought to himself, Nuraga with his tight shoulders, careful words, zero eye contact, that man wasn’t just being polite, he was protecting something. Too bad the barrier inside his heart prolly still as big as The Great Wall Of China.

"Oh lo tadinya mau pulang malem ini? Bareng aja sama kita!"

"Emang kalian mau balik juga?"

"Robi nggak, tapi gue sama Nuraga iya! Mau rekam konten ASMR midnight makanya butuh hening-hening ..."

Vazhimi had a conversation with Audy. And just like that—thanks to that one conversation—Audy got herself a drive home with Vazhimi and Nuraga. Wild how the universe works with miracle sometimes.

Audy was in the back seat. Not much was said. It was already past ten, the two in front seemed just as low-energy as she was.

She made it home peacefully, kicked off her shoes, and plopped onto her bed with her heart still doing mini backflips. She opened her phone, thumb hovering over the keyboard.

Should she thank Nuraga?

Was it weird?

Too soon?

Too much?

Ding!

One message received from him before she even type anything for him. One message ahead of her.

Life, as always, had a funny way to surprise her.

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[jonathanbyersphd]

for fanfic asks—17 please!

i was gonna say #1 but that’s what landslide is for………..however IF you wanted to write a little scene from fine line/landslide but nancy’s pov, NO ONE would be opposed. you know?

Hiiiiii thank you for the ask

17. What is something you recently felt proud of in your writing?

It feels a little like a cop out but the fact that I'm writing at all? I had REALLY bad writers block for a solid like 3-4 months so I'm proud that I'm at least writing something pretty much every other day rn.

also just because you asked so nicely. (it's also SO important to me that you know fine line/landslide from nancy's POV is either titled Sideline or Like Real People Do) (because To Someone From A Warm Climate is too long of a title) but that's a mousekatool.

All at once, Jonathan perks up and his eyes go as wide as dinner plates. Before she can ask what’s wrong he’s frantically greeting his mom. Nancy stiffens slightly, either it’s later than she thought or Joyce is home earlier than normal. Whichever it is Nancy is mindful of her manners and twists in her seat to say hello. 

"Oh hi Mrs.Byers" Nancy smiles, trying to hide her irritation over being interrupted again. 

"Hi Nancy" Joyce says curtly with her own hint of annoyance. 

Nancy attempts to ignore the sting. She shouldn’t read too much into it, after all Joyce looks flustered. Well, more flustered than normal. Maybe her bluntness has nothing to do with Nancy's presence. 

"Jonathan, do you mind?" Joyce asks, lifting the grocery bag.

“Right uh, yea sure” Jonathan nods, slowly rising from his chair to finish his chore. 

"Do you-" 

"No no it's ok I got it" Jonathan insists before she can finish her sentence. 

Nancy’s heart flutters at his teenage chivalry and she smiles in spite of herself. Her gaze follows him as he leaves the room, and she practically leans out of her chair to watch his frame disappear. Joyce clears her throat and suddenly a flush floods into her cheeks. She quickly turns back around, picking up her pencil and balancing it between her fingers. Almost as if to distract Joyce from the fact that she was very much checking out her son. 

"So what are you two up to?" Joyce asks, in that prying tone parents use when they think subtly digging for information. 

Nancy furrows her brows, even if she’s being nosy it seems an odd question to start with. Their textbooks, papers and pens are strewn across the table. It’s frankly, obvious what they’re up to, even if Nancy wishes it was something else. Jonathan had mentioned that Joyce hasn’t been herself lately. She figured it was just the fog of grief, and Nancy knows that fog, she’s found herself in it so many times over the last year. But there’s something different about it with Joyce. Like she’s trying to solve a puzzle but has no picture to reference. 

"Oh just… studying for our math test." Nancy laments.

It’s not as though they don’t need to study but she wishes she could have convinced him to watch a movie at her house. It’s so much easier to distract him. Plus, she wouldn’t have to navigate her new role with Joyce. Her family might be obnoxious but at least they don’t look at them like they’re seven years old and about to star in the Hawkins Christmas Pageant as Comet and Cupid. Nancy mentally scolds herself. She needs to be nicer, things are just rough right now. She’ll have Jonathan all to herself soon enough.

"Math test?" Joyce questions, not catching her disappointment. 

"Yea on Friday"

"You know I just ran into your mom and she mentioned a math test from a couple weeks back" Joyce informs. 

‘Super stressful’ Jonathan’s soft voice echoes in her head. Shit. They did tell her mom they were studying for math when they were in fact blackmailing the government. Maybe with everything else he just forgot to tell his mom what they were actually up to. And it’s not as though Nancy blames him but a little warning would’ve been nice.

"Oh the teacher, Mr. Mundy, he's a total stickler. We take tests like every other week." Nancy rattles dishonestly, hoping Joyce doesn’t notice any of her tells the way Jonathan does. 

"Oh then it's good that you're studying together." Joyce decides, with an encouraging smile

Nancy stalls, trying to think of how to respond to that. She’s not sure why they wouldn’t study together. Sure, Jonathan’s never dated before but it’s not like this is their first study date. Granted, those were all at her house. Maybe Joyce’s just still isn't ready to have other people in the house. Which Nancy thinks is a bit unfair considering the racket coming from Will’s room. Before she can continue the conversation Jonathan waltzes back into the room, effortlessly carrying four full bags. 

“Did you buy out the whole store?” he jokes, with a wide dimpled that sends a thrill up her spine. 

“Well I had to, we're bare bones around here” Joyce justifies, opening the same cupboard door that Nancy found Jonathan spacing out in front of. 

He stares at his mom with an intensity then shakes his head, mumbles ‘yea’ under his breath and carefully sets all four bags on the table so they don’t disrupt their homework. 

Nancy quickly gets up to help him put the groceries away. She tries not to focus on the closeness between them as she organizes items to go into the fridge or the pantry. Behind them, she can hear Joyce turn on the sink and start scrubbing dishes. She reaches into a bag and pulls out a pile of Hamburger Helper boxes and feels Jonathan tense up as she passes them to him. 

"What's wrong?" she whispers softly, gently placing her hand on his wrist. 

"Uh nothing" Jonathan recovers, pulling away from her touch to find a home for the boxes and some jars of pasta sauce. 

Nancy tries her best to shake it off, convince herself that he’s used to being alone and if something was really wrong he’d confide in her. She picks up a block of cheese to put away but stalls before she makes it to the fridge. Last time she opened it there was a baby demogorgon in there and she screamed so loud it was a miracle she didn’t wake anyone up. 

“Watch out for the relish, it's a killer” Jonathan murmurs and she can’t help but laugh as he opens it for her.