#( this one was a lot of fun to write !! )

[foodsies4me]

Hey, I've got a Shadowhunters prompt for you (just read your chairman meow isn't a cat fic , it was lovely). So Malec's love story was very quick to marriage, so while Alec stopped repressing his sexuality, he didn't have time to explore and find himself and considering his life was his job before Magnus, he never even thought of exploring before.

So while Alec is basically the same at work: 5 times people were suprised about something about him outside of work (fashion, piercings, attitude, knowledge of queer culture, participating in mundane life, not being there grumpy boss) (can be friends and familly or outsider POV)

And maybe(+1) one time he integrated those changes and brought it to work.

I thought to answer this ask on Tumblr and have it be a fun, short 5+1...and then every chapter ended up being over 2k long because I cannot do short to save my life. The fic also ended up slightly different from the prompt, but I do hope you still enjoy it!

[tonguetiedraven]

Fandom: Ao no Exorcist | Blue Exorcist Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Amaimon/Shemihaza Characters: Amaimon (Ao no Exorcist), Shemihaza (Ao no Exorcist) Additional Tags: Romance, Sort Of, Introspection, Lore Exploration, Spoilers for the Manga, minor Shiemi Moriyama/Rin Okumura Summary: Amaimon had never been tamed, despite an eternity of everyone trying. Or so he thought.

[rk800-is-hot-change-my-mind]

Beg for Permission

Relationship: Gavin Reed/Nines (RK900)

Rating: Explicit (18+, MINORS DNI)

Content Warnings: Nonbinary Upgraded Connor | RK900, Dirty Talk, Bladder Control, Watersports, Wetting, reed900’s piss kink, Dom Nines, Sub Gavin, that’s right Gavin pisses himself again, I just can’t help myself, Ass-Eating, Spit as Lube, but it’s android spit so it’s fine, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Wall Sex, Cum Eating, Aftercare 

Summary: Gavin has to ask Nines first every time he wants to use the bathroom while Nines, for whatever reason, just will not stop bringing him refreshments. It’s almost like his partner wants him to piss himself, but surely they would never plan for something like that to happen!

A/N: Nonbinary Nines returns! They use they/them pronouns, and words used for their sex characteristics are: cock and dick (kind of an underwhelming reveal but trust me they fuck for a WHILE)

Word Count: 2,352

AO3

Gavin’s car beeped as he and Nines crossed the DPD parking lot. For once, Gavin was in a chipper mood, because Nines had bought him a large order of his favorite coffee on the way to work, and he knew exactly what that meant: today was a holding day. 

He was already somewhat worked up, trying to mask his blush and giddy smile to seem like his usually cynical, bored self. Plopping down in his chair, Gavin turned on his terminal and got to work. 

—

As the day progressed, Nines brought Gavin coffee after coffee accompanied by water after water, excusing the excessive number of drinks as simply feeding their partner’s caffeine addiction and keeping him hydrated. 

Two hours and three cups of each drink later, Gavin started to feel the effects of having so much fluid in his system. He shifted in place, trying to relieve the slight pressure of his filling bladder, and pulled out his phone to text Nines (a requirement of holding days). 

gav > can i pls piss 

gav > i really gotta go 

tin can > No. 

Gavin felt a rush go through him, smiling down at his lover’s response before getting back to work. 

—

After another three hours and four cups of water, Gavin had his legs crossed under his desk, teeth gritted and thighs clenched as his belt cut into his now-swollen bladder. He was half-hard and unable to focus on anything other than holding in the torrent he knew was on its way. 

gav > my hands are shaking like crazy

gav > 9s idk if i can do this

tin can > You can, and you will. 

gav > kinky bastard

tin can > You seem to forget that, although this was initially my idea, it took absolutely no convincing to get you on board. 

gav > can i pleaseeee just go??

tin can > No.

A few heads turned his way, having heard Gavin’s groan of frustration. Downing his last cup of water, he masked the noise as his usual hatred of paperwork. All Gavin could do was try to look busy, typing different variations of, “i am soooo working and definitely dont HATE MY PARTNER >:((,” before looking up to see Nines glaring at him, who evidently saw it on their shared document. 

—

Half an hour of passive aggressive to downright slanderous comments on their documents had passed when Gavin’s phone buzzed with a new message from the main antagonist of his life (also known as Nines). 

tin can > You know, insulting me isn’t going to get you to the bathroom any sooner. 

gav > ughhhh youre the worst

tin can > That’s no better. 

gav > yk maybe i wouldnt be so rude if you would just let me go piss

gav > i feel like im gonna explode

tin can > Quit being dramatic; you’re fine. You can hold it. 

Gavin put his phone back on his desk, drumming his fingers and trying his hardest to keep the floodgates shut and locked. 

—

Ten minutes passed, and he’d continued his efforts to hold everything in, but to no avail. Suddenly, Gavin felt a few drops leak out of his fully hardened dick, finally having reached his limit. He squeezed his eyes shut, clenching his thighs together and willing it to stop, and luckily it did. Soon, though, hopes and prayers wouldn’t be able to tide him over. 

gav > 9s i swear to god i will piss myself RIGHT HERE if you dont let me go NOW

tin can > Fine. I suppose I wouldn’t want you making a mess of yourself. 

tin can > Not here, anyway. 

Somewhat relieved, Gavin turned his chair to get up. His phone buzzed again.  

tin can > Did I say you could leave?

With a huff, Gavin sat back down. Ignoring his glare, Nines came around to Gavin’s side of their shared desk and sat on the edge. 

“Gavin, you don’t look so well,” Nines said, feigning concern. 

“I wonder why,” Gavin muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes. 

“I think it’s in your best interest to leave early. Here, I’ll drive you home,” Nines suggested (though Gavin could tell it wasn’t a choice). 

The second he stood, however, he felt his cock dribble, wetting the front of his boxers; he immediately sat back down. His face must’ve turned beet red, because Nines’ look softened and they helped him up to his feet, slinging one of his arms over their shoulder for support and walking him slowly out of the precinct. 

To Gavin’s surprise, instead of going to his car, Nines steered him to the back-alley behind the precinct, just out of sight from prying eyes. As they rounded the corner to their final destination, Gavin doubled over, holding his groin and groaning as his bladder spasmed and ached for release. 

“Ni-i-i-i-nes,” the detective croaked. 

“I know, my love, just a bit longer for me,” Nines cooed. “You’re doing so well.”

In a blink, Nines pushed Gavin against the wall next to them and pressed their lips to his. He was trapped between them and the hard surface to his back, his hips held in place by his partner’s large hands and his bladder groaning as Nines ground into him, their height putting their cock right against it. 

“Ha-a-ah-” Gavin gasped, putting every fiber of his being into keeping everything inside him. It was incredibly difficult to focus with Nines shoving their tongue into his mouth, stealing the air from his lungs; another roll of their hips coaxed a few more drops out of him, finally dampening his jeans. The android must’ve heard the whimper he let out, because they instantly started palming at his very prominent bulge, squeezing it as they felt a small leak soak through and moaning softly into his mouth before pulling away to let Gavin breathe. 

“I don’t remember giving you permission to go,” Nines scolded. 

“I-I’m sorry,” their boyfriend stammered, furrowing his brow with the effort it took to stop. 

Nines stared down at him for a moment, most likely considering his punishment. One moment, they had him firmly in place with his back to the wall, and the next, Gavin’s face was squished against it, his legs kicked apart and his ass pushed out against Nines’ pelvis. The surprise of it all forced another spurt of piss out of him, and Gavin whimpered again. His partner took a moment just to feel him, running their hands up his chest, squeezing his tits, and pinching his nipples before moving down his sides to his waist. Nines brought them around to press on his swollen bladder, reveling in the moans they pulled out of him, all before unbuckling his belt and slipping the button out of his jeans, bucking their hips into his ass at the sigh of relief he let out.

Putting an end to the teasing, the android hooked the long fingers of one hand under the waistband of Gavin’s jeans and circled those of the other hand around the base of his cock to keep him from letting go – in any capacity – before he was allowed to. When it was clear Gavin wouldn’t lose control any time soon, Nines slowly pulled his pants to his ankles and dropped to their knees with them, groaning at the sight of their boyfriend’s plush ass. A yelp turned into a whine as Gavin felt sharp teeth sink into it. 

Cutting right to the chase, Nines licked a long stripe from his taint up over his hole, which was fluttering with the effort of holding. Gavin let out a loud groan as they pushed their long tongue past the ring of tight muscle, thrusting in and out to lubricate the area with their artificial saliva. The android soon thrust a finger in with their tongue to little resistance, probing for his sweet spot and finding it almost immediately, before pushing in a second and scissoring the digits to stretch Gavin out. By the third finger, he was whining for Nines to hurry up, but his pleads fell on deaf ears. After all, they needed to make as much room as possible for their dick; even with the prep, it would inevitably be just a little bit too big. 

Gavin was nothing but a squirming mess, just barely grasping what little dignity he had left, panting with the effort of holding for this long. All of a sudden, Nines stopped and stood up behind him, still clasping the base of his length. 

“I’m going to let go of your dick now, and you’re going to continue to hold it. We wouldn’t want you wetting yourself, now would we?” Nines whispered in his ear. 

A sob racked Gavin’s body. “I don’t know if I can…”

“You can, and you will,” Nines responded sternly. Then, softer, “Color?”

“G-green,” Gavin stuttered. Nines simply responded with a kiss to the cheek and got to work unbuckling their belt and unbuttoning their pants. 

Unlike Connor, who wore underwear as a courtesy in case he somehow got pantsed during an investigation, Nines had a complete disregard for basic public decency. This proved incredibly convenient for their and Gavin’s very healthy sex life, just one less layer for them to remove when they were in the mood. The human knew better than to turn around when he heard the slick sounds of Nines stroking themself to full mast, despite his curiosity; it’d only put more pressure on his bladder, and that was the last thing he needed. 

The sound stopped, and Gavin felt the moist head of the android’s cock rub over his aching hole, slowly rocking the tip in and out. Fucking tease. After a few more passes, they finally pushed fully into him at a torturously slow pace until they bottomed out. Gavin’s rasped groans echoed through the alley as he took every inch, wincing when they pressed against his bladder from the inside. Nines let out soft moans in time with their boyfriend’s clenches, allowing him to adjust to their size. 

Within seconds, Nines’ patience ran out, and they began to slam into Gavin with no remorse. Taking enough force to bruise, another sob racked his body. His partner was strategically hitting his bladder with every thrust, and he wasn’t going to make it much longer. 

“Please, Nines, can I please piss? I’ll be so good, I promise, just please let me piss!” Gavin begged them. 

“Just a little longer, my love,” Nines promised. 

When the android ran a large hand from their boyfriend’s hip to lay over his bladder and pressed, Gavin’s control began to slip. He sprung a leak, piss running down his length in a slow stream, soaking into his boxers and the crotch of his jeans beneath him. Nines noticed almost immediately, and promptly punished him with a hard slap to the ass. In shock from the blow, the human let out a full spurt, which hit the brick wall in front of him.  

“Please!” Gavin sobbed. 

“Alright, you can let go, baby. You know I can’t resist when you beg,” Nines cooed, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. They adjusted their aim to hit his prostate directly at an inhuman pace, and Gavin was done for. 

Finally, finally, he could release, and so he did. Gavin started pissing full-force, letting out a long, drawn-out groan with the satisfaction of both emptying his bladder and Nines pushing hard into his sweet spot. His cock bobbed with every thrust, rhythmically spraying onto the lower half of his shirt, splattering against the wall, soaking the cuffs of his jeans, showering over his shoes, and coming back again. 

“God, I fucking love your pretty noises, and the smell- drives my olfactory sensors wild, honey,” Nines groaned. “Shit, do you even know the things you do to me? Dear god, you’re so fucking good, love you so much- unh, Gavin!”

Nines swearing and moaning was just about the hottest thing Gavin ever heard. When his bladder was finally empty, the human was completely enveloped in pleasure. Pre was dripping down his dick into his underwear, and he was so close to cumming; all he needed was permission. 

“Mmph, love you and your cock! Ohh, fuck, Nines! Can I cum? Please, god, can I cum? Need it so fucking bad!”

“Go ahead baby, you’ve been so good for me,” Nines moaned. 

A deep groan echoed throughout the alley as Gavin came, the fluid hitting the wall and falling into the puddle of piss below, his hole spasming around the android’s length. Nines pressed flush against him and came deep inside him with a grunt, an arm wrapped around him and a hand on his hip squeezing with a bruising grip. 

Gavin could feel their hot breath against his shoulder as his lover turned on their internal fans so as not to overheat. When the two finally came down, Nines pulled out; Gavin could feel their synthetic cum dripping down his thighs. Two fingers dragged across his leaking entrance, and he looked back in time to catch the android sucking their fingers clean, his cock twitching weakly at the sight. Gavin pulled up his jeans and underwear in an unnecessary attempt at modesty. 

“Oh, goddamn it,” Gavin mumbled, having forgotten about the cum and piss that soaked the wall until he turned around and leaned against it. 

“It’s not like that’s going to make you any more of a mess than you already are, dear,” Nines chuckled, an amused look on their face. 

“Shit, I am kinda gross, aren’t I?” Gavin noticed. 

“Don’t worry, I planned for this,” they assured. After helping their boyfriend out of his clothes, the android pulled a sealed bag from a conveniently placed cardboard box nearby, taking a pack of wet wipes out for Gavin’s sticky skin. They tenderly wiped him down, then pulled out a soft change of clothes for him to put on, offering their arm to keep him steady. 

Once Gavin was ready to leave, Nines draped their jacket and an arm gently over his shoulders and walked him to their car, holding him close and making sure he knew just how much they loved him. 



A/N: This was a fun one! It’s been a month in the making and I’m very happy to have it finished. 

[kitsunefaux]

Chapters: 6/? Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga), Yu-Gi-Oh! - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Bakura Ryou & Thief King Bakura, Bakura Ryou/Thief King Bakura Characters: Bakura Ryou, Thief King Bakura Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, (FaeU), Gemshipping, Queerplatonic relationship, Wingfic, fae!Ryou, human!TKB, at least at first, Kidnapping, Magical Compulsion/Mind Control, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Power Imbalance, Possessive Behavior, Creative License: European Folklore, Fae & Fairies, Swan Maiden, Reverse Swan Maiden Story, as in a fae kidnaps a guy and turns him into a swan, Ryou is just a weird little fellow, with a bit of trauma, Oops, A bit of Psychological Horror, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD Summary:

Bakura meets a strange man in the forest who transforms his world. Literally.

[fruit-teeth]

Chronicles of Love and War (chapter 20)

Olivia lingered by the dollhouse near the window sill of her room, fiddling with her plush cat. She felt sick, but didn’t know why - ever since she and her mother had returned home, she was suddenly feeling off. Her body felt tired, her mind felt like it was filled with cotton, and her insides felt weird and unpleasant. She realized she was worried, but she couldn't define what about.

It was getting late, anyhow. Olivia climbed back into bed, seeking to sleep while her mother listened to the radio in the room next door. In an exhausted attempt to relieve her headache, she pressed her face into the pillows. As she fell asleep, she couldn't stop thinking about Lucy's powers or the facts of her father's death.

The next Olivia knew, she was sitting at a long table. She didn’t recognize the room, but she did feel as though someone she knew was around. She was unsure of how she sensed that, but she didn’t have time to ask questions as a door to her left suddenly flew open. 

Olivia carefully rose out of the chair, making her way to the doorway and peering inside. There, she was met with a horrifying sight: a version of her father lay on the floor, covered in rats. But it wasn’t really him - it was more like a mannequin, though it had his face and wore his clothing. The dummy was surrounded by rats, which savaged it and tore off pieces of its body with their yellow fangs.

Olivia could do nothing for a moment but stare, until she managed to snap herself out of it. She ran towards the rats, shouting, “Stop! Go away!”

The rats dispersed and proceeded to retreat, but she realized that they were clothed in the Classic Team’s uniforms. They scuttled to the shadows, staring at her with their beady eyes. 

Her heart beating quickly, Olivia looked down at the mannequin. With shaky hands, she picked up its head, looking down into the face of her father. 

“Olivia, that's not me," came his familiar voice, though it did not come from the head, but from behind her. 

Olivia whirled around, but she saw no one. After a long, terrifying silence, she called back, “Daddy? Where are you?”

No response. When Olivia turned back to look at the head and realized it wasn't her father's any longer, her heart leaped in her throat. Instead, she was staring down into her own face. 

Shrieking, she dropped the head and tried to run, but someone was standing right behind her. Lucy stood there, but she looked different. Her hair was no longer braided and was hanging loosely about her face like jungle vines. Her eyes were blank and black, as they had been during the playground incident.

Olivia took a few steps back, heart beating wildly. “Lucy?” she asked, voice trembling. 

Lucy said nothing. Instead, she raised up her hand and grabbed Olivia by her hair, yanking her closer. As Olivia cried out and tried to fight her off, she could see the beady eyes of the rats again, slowly creeping closer. 

The sound of the radiator thumping brought Olivia back to reality, and back to her bed. She gasped out loud, desperate to forget what she had witnessed in her nightmare.

But she soon understood that there was no way she could forget. No amount of cheerful thoughts or cuddling with plush animals could drive the worry away from her. Hearing the sound of her mother’s radio in the bedroom down the hall, Olivia climbed out of bed and headed for there. 

Helen sat in her bedroom by the radio, reading a new book while the radio played show music from an old musical. The door creaked open, and she glanced up to see Olivia standing there. 

“Olivia?” Helen set the book to the side, rising from her chair with concern. “Why are you up? What is it?”

Olivia couldn’t find her words at first, but soon, she went straight to her mother’s arms and climbed into them. The moment she smelled her mother’s perfume and felt her warm arms scoop her up, she instantly burst into sobs. 

“Darling…what’s the matter?” Helen questioned, heart aching for her child. She eased back down into her chair, cradling her weeping daughter all the while. 

Olivia sobbed inconsolably for almost a minute before she could begin speaking. “It was a dumb nightmare,” she sniffed, feeling some shreds of embarrassment at how upset she’d gotten over it. “It was stupid…stupid!” 

Helen hummed gently. “I see…” she pulled a handkerchief from the nightstand and wiped the girl’s tears with a light hand. “Would you like to tell me about it?”

“I don’t…” Olivia trailed off, thinking. She closed her eyes for a moment, and then opened them again, looking up at her mother. “Mommy?”

“Yes?”

“Is…is it true that Daddy got killed by those people he worked with?”

Helen froze, staring down into Olivia’s face for a moment. “Oh…who told you?”

Olivia wiped at her eyes, taking a long breath. “Solly did, at the base,” 

Helen pursed her lips together. “Of course he did…” she sighed, carefully pushing Olivia's hair out of her face to get a better look at her. “Yes, dear, they were the ones who killed him. I’m sorry, we should have told you what happened sooner - is that what’s upset you so terribly?”

“Well…” Olivia got quiet for a few seconds, trying to verbalize what she was feeling. “Yeah - kinda…” she swallowed, trying to get better control over her breathing. “Lucy would ever turn on me like that…right?”

Helen paused, feeling a wave of concern begin to rise in her. “...I don’t believe she would. What makes you think that?” 

“I dunno…it was in my nightmare…” Olivia replied softly. “She’s so fun and a good friend, but…if I made her mad, would she–?”

“Darling,” Helen stopped her, placing a hand on her cheek. “You are not your father, and Lucy has no reason to ever betray you. You’re her friend, aren’t you?”

“Of course,” Olivia nodded, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. “She’s my best friend!”

Helen nodded, and she pulled a tissue from a box on the makeup desk to wipe Olivia’s tears with it. “If she is your best friend, that means trust between the two of you is important. I realize how the past may make it easy to mistrust others, but if there is one thing I have learned, it is that the past does not always dictate the future. Do you understand?” 

Olivia thought these words over, before she nodded. “Yeah,” she agreed, already feeling a little better. She pressed her face into her mother’s shoulder and murmured, “I wanna go back to bed…”

Helen smiled gently, her hand coming to run her fingers through Olivia’s short hair. “All right, then…” she stood up carefully, holding Olivia in her arms and carrying her back to her room. “Would you like to read something with me?”

Olivia cuddled into her mother’s warmth, feeling safe again, and she nodded. “Yes, I’d like that.” 

At that same moment, Heavy and Medic approached the Kindred Soul Medical Clinic. While Heavy drove, Medic followed a map, giving directions so they could easily find the establishment.

Once they arrived to the building, they took a moment to just observe the place. 

“Why have I never heard of this place before?” Medic murmured, confused. “I keep a record of surrounding hospitals in this area, and not once have I ever even heard of this one.”

Heavy looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “Why you keep record of such things?”

Medic waved him off, unbuckling his seatbelt. “Well, you never know what kinds of organs these types of hospitals will just throw away! It’s quite fascinating how easy it is to obtain kidneys…”

Heavy couldn’t help but laugh a little, stepping out of the car. “Of course…”

As the two men approached the hospital, Medic gestured to the large black bag he was carrying. “I do not think I will need much of what I brought in here, but…just in case, I am bringing it. This could be a very easy process, we will have to see.”

“What do you plan to do?” Heavy wanted to know. 

“Well…” Medic took a long breath. “I suspect that drugs and chemicals are what is keeping him unconscious. Fred's consciousness should be restored as soon as the IV tubes transferring the medications into his system are removed.”

Heavy nodded, taking this in for a moment before asking, “And how long will this take?”

“I’m…not sure,” Medic admitted. “At least an hour, but since he’s been comatose for God knows how long…it could take much longer.” 

The two entered the building, which was strangely quiet for a hospital. A tired-looking man sat at the front desk, and when he noticed the two men, he asked, “Are you with the audit people?”

Heavy blinked in confusion at the question, but Medic just answered, “No, we are not. We are looking for the basement room, where can we find it?” 

“The basement room?” The man repeated, confused. “Hospital personnel are the only ones allowed down there unless it’s an emergency.”

“It is emergency,” Heavy grunted. He started contemplating if it would be worth it to knock this man out somehow, or if that would be too risky. 

As it turned out, though, he did not need to. “Oh, hospital personnel? That’s me!” Medic affirmed. “I have simply just not been down to the basement yet…could you direct me there?” 

“You work here?” The man asked, squinting at Medic. “Are you a doctor? Can I see some ID?” 

Medic put a hand to his chest in exaggerated offense. “ID!? How dare you! His hips and joints look and feel like raw bacon, and he has shattered kneecaps from a motorcycle accident! And because of an ID card, you sit there behind your desk on your high horse, preventing me from being by his side!? I thought this was a hospital, not a prison! Why, I don’t imagine that—“ 

“Fine!” The man interrupted him, annoyed. He pointed down the hallway to the elevator. “Just take the elevator and stop talking to me!” 

“Thank you!” Medic chirped, turning quickly on his heel towards the elevator. 

Heavy followed him, and once they were inside the elevator, he snickered. “Doktor…how you do this so easy?”

Medic waved him off with a light laugh. “Oh, please. Why let Spy have all the fun when it comes to trickery?” 

Heavy observed Medic’s smile for a moment, before leaning in and planting a gentle kiss to his cheek. Medic blinked, then giggled softly, reaching up to stroke his lover's broad jaw.

The elevator doors opened, and the two stepped out. Medic paused for a moment, thinking. “Forty-two…forty-two…yes, I believe that was the room number Engineer said.”

He gestured for Heavy to follow, and they headed down the hallway. Soon, they made it to Room 42, and Medic knocked on the door. 

Engineer answered, visibly relieved. “Oh, thank the lord you’re here! I’ve had to hide in that closet twice already,” he pointed to a small, dingy closet that was in the corner of the room. “A nurse popped in both times…I dunno what she was doin’ though. I’m freaked out about this place, I don’t got a dang clue what they’re doing!” 

Medic moved past Engineer, coming to stand at the foot of Fred’s bed. “Guter Gott im Himmel…” he muttered, observing Fred’s appearance. “He looks half-dead. Has he made any movements at all?” 

“Only a couple eye twitches,” Dell replied, sitting back down at the edge of the bed. “His heart rate stays the same, though.”

Medic poked at the IV bag attached to Fred, observing it in thought. Heavy approached from behind, staring at the wires and tubes before shifting his gaze to Fred’s face. 

“Must be difficult for you,” Heavy said finally, looking to Engie. “Seeing your father like this…” 

“Oh - uh…yeah,” Engineer nodded, meeting his gaze. “Yeah, I mean — no one wants to see their pa like this, right? And…Y’know, I kinda accepted the fact that he died, but now…I gotta deal with this all over again. I dunno…it’s not a normal thing…”

Heavy reached over, carefully placing his broad palm on Engineer’s shoulder. “I know. But he will wake…everything will be all right. Yes?”

Engineer looked back down at his father’s face, feeling that old familiar pain creep in. “Yeah,” he replied. “Yeah…I hope so.” 

Medic said nothing for a long moment. Finally, he reached over and pulled the IV out of Fred’s arm. “Let’s see what happens when I do this!” 

Engineer jolted, dashing over to where Medic stood. “Hey, hey, hey! You sure about that!?” 

“Of course I’m sure!” Medic affirmed. He reached into his bag and pulled out a patch, which he used to clean up the fluid. “This will stop the flow of sedatives. Now, all we do is wait for it to cycle out of his system enough, and then I will awaken him with…this!” He pulled out a strange vial from his bag, one which was filled with a pink liquid. 

“What is that?” Engineer wanted to know, panicked. 

“I don’t quite remember, but it woke Soldier up from a coma once!” Medic replied with a shrug. 

Engie grit his teeth, uneasy. “All right…ugh, this is freakin’ me out…”

Heavy patted his shoulder again, hoping to reassure him. “Everything will be fine. Doktor will sort it out.”

For well over an hour, Medic monitored Fred as he drained him of the sleeping drugs that were in his system. Heavy and Engineer stood near the bed, with Heavy watching the door to make sure no nurses or doctors tried to slip in.

It got to be close to midnight. Dell was drowsy as he perched on the edge of his father's bed, but he forced his eyelids open to stay awake. He grasped his water bottle, anxiously slurping down a mouthful of water in the hopes that it would liven him up. But just then, he heard something odd behind him: a throaty grunting noise, which he thought was coming from Medic at first. However, when he glanced over and noticed Fred’s thumb twitch, he nearly dropped the water bottle in alarm. 

“Its working,” Medic announced, pleased as he stepped back to observe. 

“Pa!” Dell exclaimed, moving closer to Fred and patting his cheek with his organic hand. “Oh, my god - are you waking up? Please, wake up,” 

Fred’s eyelids moved, his mouth twitched, and finally, his eyes opened. He blinked, trying to adjust to the light of the room, and he murmured something Dell could not understand. 

“What?” Dell prompted, taking his father by the hand and leaning in closer. “What’d you say?”

“I’m thirsty,” Fred managed, his voice cracking a little. Dell instantly grabbed the water bottle and helped his father sit up, allowing him to sip from it.

Once his thirst had been quenched, Fred took a few deep breaths, before he fully noticed his son’s presence. “Dell?” he asked, blinking away the fatigue as his mind finally returned to that of the waking world. “Is…is that you?”

“Yeah,” Dell sniffed, and he nodded, pulling Fred into his arms for a hug, the first one they’d shared in a long time. “I thought I lost you forever…” 

Fred hugged him back, slowly regaining the strength in his muscles to do so. “Lost me? Dell– what happened? I don’t remember…” he trailed off, glancing over his shoulder and seeing Medic standing there. Instantly, he drew back from Dell in alarm, attempting to scramble away from Medic. “Oh, hell no! What’s going on here!?”

“Oh, relax!” Medic sighed in annoyance at the reaction. “I just helped you wake up from your nearly year-long coma, and this is the thanks I get?” 

Fred looked all around the room, panicking. “Where the hell am I? Coma!? What happened?”

“It’s a long story - we’re gonna fill you in, though!” Dell assured him, patting his arm. “Now…I’m takin’ you with me. I dunno what the deal with this hospital is, but–”

“My legs!” Fred gasped suddenly, ripping back his blanket. Sure enough, robotic legs were both missing. “Where are my legs!?”

“Oh– god, I dunno!” Dell winced, glancing around the room. “Did a nurse take ‘em?’

“How the hell am I supposed to know that!?” Fred barked. 

Heavy knelt down and checked under the bed, and he reached underneath it. “This, you mean?” he pulled out a mechanical contraption and showed it to Fred. 

Fred desperately reached for it. “Yeah, yeah, that’s it! Give it!” 

Heavy handed the prosthetics to Fred, who fitted it onto himself right away. He skillfully positioned the device on his own torso, but Dell halted him, saying, "It's awfully dusty. You sure you don't want me to wipe it down for you first?"

“Don’t worry,” Fred grunted, and with some effort, he managed to flex his mechanical limbs, and he sighed with relief. “Oh, thank the lord. Still works…”

Dell slowly helped him out of bed, assisting him in standing on his feet. Fred walked a few steps, stumbling, but he managed to regain his balance. Soon, he’d adjusted to walking normally, and his demeanor appeared to relax. 

“Good!” Medic clapped his hands together, relieved. “Now that we have this settled, we can–”

“Oh, no ya don’t!” Fred cut him off, casting a glare towards Medic. “Now that I’m awake and on my good ol’ legs again, you better tell me what the hell’s going on!”

Before Medic could answer, the door suddenly opened. All eyes turned to the doorway, where a balding man in a lab coat stood. His nametag read, ‘DR. HANDY’. 

“You, there!” he pointed to Medic, glaring at him. “Were you the one who snuck in, pretending to be a doctor here!? And just what did you give this patient to wake him up? You are not authorized to do such a thing!” 

Medic stepped forward, putting his hands up defensively. “Now, now - what does it truly mean to be ‘authorized’ to bring a comatose patient out of their coma? Because, in my opinion, it is rather elitist to dismiss basic human connection on the grounds of a hospital's standards, isn’t it? Outrageous!” 

Dr. Handy stared at Medic for several seconds, before he pulled out a walkie-talkie. “Nope. I’m calling security, asshole.” 

Then, all of a sudden, Heavy pounced on the man, sweeping him up and tossing him out of the room as if he weighed nothing. Dr. Handy was flung across the hallway, where he crashed into a trashcan with a loud yell. 

“Quick! We gotta go, now!” Engineer exclaimed, grabbing Fred by the arm and rushing out of the room with him. Medic and Heavy followed after them, with Medic grabbing his bag on the way out. 

Dr. Handy groaned, recovering from being flung into the garbage as the four men ran past him down the hall. “Hey…hey!” he snapped, struggling to his feet and pressing a button on his walkie talkie. “Security! Come right away, I need some help!” 

The group of four crowded into an elevator, catching their breaths as the doors closed. 

“Should have taken stairs,” Heavy grumbled. “What if they catch up to us?”

“You kiddin’?” Fred scoffed. “I just got my legs back, you really think I’m gonna subject myself to walkin’ up flights of stairs?”

Medic gestured to Heavy. “He could carry you, he’s quite good at it.”

As the elevator doors separated to show the first floor, the four sprinted past bewildered nurses and other custodians to the front doors. Once out in the parking lot, Engineer paused to search for his car. 

“Where’d I park, where’d I park…ah!” he pointed to his truck and grabbed his father’s hand again. “This way, Pa!”

Fred stumbled along, his mechanical joints clicking. “Slow down, slow down!” 

“We’ll meet you at the nearest gas station!” Medic called out to Dell, hopping into his own vehicle. Heavy joined him and got behind the wheel, starting the car up. 

It took a good few minutes of finally being on the road again with his father beside him for Dell to finally unwind. He caught his breath, and before he even knew what was happing, he began hysterically laughing. 

Fred wiped at his brow, glancing over at his son with confusion and concern. “What? What is it?”

Dell took a moment to relax, a light smile on his lips as he rolled his shoulders a few times. “I ain’t ever felt so alive,” he gasped. There was a pause, before he reached over and gave Fred’s hand a squeeze. 

There were no words exchanged for a long moment as Fred held his son’s hand in return, silence filling the truck. Finally, Fred spoke up: “So! You gonna tell me what the hell’s been happening since I’ve been in a dead sleep?”

“Oh!” Dell shook himself, clearing his throat. “Uh…yeah…better strap in before I tell you, quite a lot’s happened…”  

[crookedtines]

I finally took the time to photograph my vintage dip pen nib collection, and I need to share with you all how wonderful and diverse their designs are.

These two are my favorite. Just look at them! One of them is named Gorille and the other Mephisto, but to me they're little pumpkins.

And of course you gotta love the Pinocchio nib. You get to write with the nose of a tiny guy! Just not something you get to do anymore.

[two-reflections]

After the events of The Skull Harvest, Cadaras Grendel skips the victory feast. However, his lonely training session is interrupted by Slaneeshi blade dancer Notha Etassay, who offers him a more personalised celebration.

[Rating: E, M/M, Oneshot.]

[Tags: Blood Kink, Mild Gore, Fight Sex, Heretic, Dominant Masochism, Service Top, Altered Mental States.]

This was written for the Rare Kink Prompt Meme on Ao3! Thanks to @squishyowl for the dividers!

[tourettesdog]

I am begging people to be normal about completed fics, and in particular one shots.

I am begging people to stop demanding more from authors, and insisting that one shots need to be longer or have sequels.

I don't think yall understand how many fanfic authors are one more "where's the rest of it?" comment away from throwing out any plans they might have had to continue an idea.

Unless an author like specifically says they might write more for an idea, just-- assume something marked as completed is complete, and respect it as it stands, please.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

I hope you take this as the compliment it is intended to be, but you strike the same chord of irreverence-as-love, jokes-to-showcase-sencerity that I get from Chuck Tingle, and I adore both of you.

You have bestowed the greatest honour upon me.

[wardingshout]

Zelda goes mushroom girl

[fictionalcharacters-mybeloved]

Say no to this, Bruce.

A few days ago Bruce had a fight with his sons, now he doesn't even remember why, it was probably something stupid that escalated and he didn't know how to stop it, it was probably his fault.

He was alone at the mansion, Damian was at Dick's house, Jason was ignoring him more than usual and Tim was on a case where he didn't want help, not from him at least, even Duke was away, it wasn't a good week for Bruce.

He grabbed a phone he had hidden and only took out before going to sleep alone in his room, hesitated for a few seconds and sent a message to the only number added.

His "thing" with the boy, Danny Fenton, had started four years ago, the boy was lost and Bruce found him when he coincidentally went for a walk as a civilian.

Danny was so charmed by Bruce (for some reason) that he gave him his hotel room number to keep talking about the universe, and later his home number.

Danny was a good, funny and witty kid, a very smart too, with parents who didn't deserve him because they didn't notice their son's brilliance.

Danny was a good boy with a not-so-good life, a strong, independent boy who wasn't always positive but didn't always let himself fall apart.

That's why when Danny answered his message with a call with him crying and asking for help, he could only go to his rescue without looking back, barely remembering to tell Alfred of his departure.

When he arrived he found only tragedy.

His family and friends had died, an explosion at an unfortunate time, Danny had no one in the world besides his godfather and Bruce, and he didn't want to fall into Vlad's clutches, so he was desperate.

He also told him about Phantom, and Bruce could only hug him and promise him that no one was going to find him.

The first thing that came to his mind was to take him to his mansion, Danny was like his son, it was the most logical action... except that Danny still looked up to him and trusted him a lot, and wasn't that a scary thought?

Bringing Danny to the mansion would involve many things, Danny would meet his children, which might make Danny see him differently, goodbye to his admiration and affection, goodbye to spending time "together" watching bad movies to criticize them, goodbye to quiet conversations and asking for advice, goodbye to trust.

Bringing Danny to the mansion would mean having him physically close but keeping him away in every other possible way.

"Danny doesn't want anyone else to know about Phantom." Bruce repeated to himself as he took Danny to a small, hidden apartment in Gotham, a cozy little place where Vlad wouldn't find Danny (and neither would Bruce's family).

[somnimagus]

My page for @sheikahzine; about Impaz's duty to her village, empty of people and full of memories.

[id in alt text]

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]

Hey hey hey may 31th anon! How's 2024 going? ☆ヾ(*´▽｀)ﾉ This year I have for you a leaked Sherlock season 5 image. Thinking of you!! And everyone!!

[katabay]

ONCE UPON A TIME, THERE WAS A KNIGHT...

the visual inspiration for this was a combination of Frederic William Burton's Meeting on the Turret Stairs and also Bernardo Cavallino's The vision of St. Dominic receiving the Rosary from the Virgin

this was supposed to be just a one off illustration to get the thoughts out of my system, but then I started thinking about medieval politics and warfare and plagues and a castle and home as both a place of refuge, a prison, and a tomb, so perhaps they will end up as ex voto characters as well.

you may say, hey! that rosary looks like it has too many beads! it's a fifteen decade rosary, probably. dominicans are really into marian devotions. it works out.

also. spiral style stair cases. oh boy. it was that unexpectedly more difficult than I originally thought it would be to draw. the more I think about it, the less I understand them, even though I had a million photos of the stairs in front of me while I was drawing it.

⭐ I have a tip jar (ko-fi)!

⭐ and other places I’m at! bsky / pixiv / pillowfort /cohost / cara.app

[myokk]

clumsy

pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

word count: 9,1k

summary: sebastian is clumsy

cw: fluff, mutual pining, idiots in love, two really stubborn idiots in love to be exact, sir cadogan guest appearance, anne and imelda are the gremlin best friends every girl needs, smut (18+ ONLY), oral (f. recieving)

a/n: or: two stubborn brats make things more difficult than they have to be. I've been working on this for a MONTH more or less, ever since I drew the sketch that inspired it🫶 (I'm the world's slowest writer)

The first time Sebastian Sallow interacted with her after the fateful events of their fifth year, he fell for her.

Quite literally.

Maybe fell on her is more aptly put - Sebastian Sallow is not one to mince his words or say what he doesn't mean, after all. But, in the years to come, he always insists that he fell in love in that moment.

It was inexplicable. One moment, he was walking around, perfectly content with his loveless, boring life, and the next, his every waking moment was painful. Nobody had ever told Sebastian that being in love would physically pain or consume him so.

It all started like this: one moment, he's walking (well, striding) to Crossed Wands. Fine, he's running. Running late already, for the first meet-up of his last year. But - he isn't to blame for being late. He needed to check on something in the library - during his Transfiguration lesson, he had a hunch about something Professor Weasley had said in passing, and of course he had to go and check to see if he was right before he could even think about besting Leander in the inaugural duel of the Crossed Wands season but now, with how late he is - how many minutes ago had it started? - oh, Merlin, it's already been ten whole minutes and what if they've started without him (not that he can blame them) and -

Sebastian is abruptly pulled out of his thoughts when he collides with a strange obstruction in his way. He was just checking his father's old pocket watch, had only looked away for a split second and he could have sworn that, unless he was mistaken (which he never is), there wasn't a statue in the middle of the suspension bridge. And yet, he has run headfirst into something or someone, and now they are both flying through the air, books whirling around them in a flurry of pages and Sebastian unconsciously puts his arms out to grab her before they hit the ground and now he's holding her tight against him and they land with a loud, ungraceful thud, but at least she's not hurt.

Sebastian shakes his head to clear it after the impact that - miraculously - doesn't seem to have been as bad as it could have been, all things considered, and -

He freezes.

What has he done?

He's pressed up against the most impossibly lovely person he has ever seen quite possibly in his life, holding her tightly in his arms as she glares up at him in indignation, a faint flush spreading across her cheeks, making her face glow. Is this what the muggles mean when they say that they were struck by Cupid's arrow? Her hands scrabble uselessly at his chest as she tries to extricate herself from his grip. It's useless. Sebastian is completely frozen in place as he stares down at her, and he can feel his own face heating up at his inability to get off her. What's wrong with him?

"Sebastian," she repeats, and this time her voice registers in his brain. He realizes she has been talking to him this whole time, and as he stares at her face without comprehending - he couldn't have a coherent thought right now even if he wanted to - he sees her eyes dart quickly down, looking at where their bodies meet before she brings them back to his face, a deeper blush coming over her. "You -"

Oh, Merlin. It's her. He blinks and it's like the fog has cleared from his mind - almost, but-not-quite - and he realizes who he has unceremoniously crashed to the ground with him. The spines of the textbooks they are lying on top of dig into the arm that's pinned under her body and his other hand...he realizes (to his almost-horror) that to any students or professors walking by, it would seem as if they were caught up in quite the scandalous extra-curricular activity because his other hand is actively caressing her breast. Well, that's how it would look to any passerby, anyways.

Because there is no way he would be caught dead in such a compromising position with her.

The two of them haven't spoken since the events of their fifth year - the Year-That-Shall-Not-Be-Remembered-or-Acknowledged - and he had been perfectly content with his plan to continue this strange sort of ignoring that they had played all last year. Both of them pretending that they hadn't become impossibly close after only knowing each other for a few months - a closeness that he had gone and ruined by not knowing when to quit. All he had known to do back then was push push push because why couldn't she see things the way he had? The betrayal he had felt when she had gone behind his back to find her own way to cure his sister, and that one stupid word uttered in the heat of the moment, had caused an irreparable rift in their relationship and he would not allow himself to think about how much he missed her. Still misses her.

Just like he will not think about the fact that she is pressed beneath him in a compromising position, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she glares up at him in indignation. He continues to stare at her. Maybe his mouth is agape. She's stopped trying to get out of his grip and is resting her hands on his chest, seemingly waiting for an opportunity to push him off of her.

"Sebastian. Your hand," she repeats. "You're -"

Finally his idiot brain decides to wake up and Sebastian realizes with horror just how aroused he is at the moment and how did he never see her like this before? He gets up in a flash, pushing her back against the pile of books they're lying on top of, wondering if he can subtly adjust his robes without her realizing and then he makes the very grave mistake of looking down at her and she's still very much red-faced, propping herself up by her elbows and she looks so disheveled and lovely lying on top of the pile of books.

His idiot brain has now woken up completely, and how is it possible for one hormonal, eighteen-year-old wizard to be so embarrassed? He knocked her to the ground, pushed her further back in the books in his desperate attempt to get away from her, and now all he can think about is how to hide his arousal. Shameful, really. Sebastian quickly crouches down to help her pick up all of the books but she shoves him away and glares at him with an annoyance that he's never seen before.

"I can do it myself, thank you very much," she says with a huff, gathering everything they spilled up into her arms. She grabs the book Sebastian is holding out of his hands and he inhales sharply at the touch of her fingers grazing his.

Did someone - Garreth, maybe - spike his pumpkin juice with Amortentia during lunch? It's the only explanation he can think of as he stares blankly down at her. How else would he find her so beautiful, so breathtaking, when the last time they had interacted, Ominis and Anne had had to act as intermediaries for the two of them?

"Well," she says finally, slinging her school bag over her shoulder once all of her books have been unceremoniously shoved inside of it, "it's been...nice seeing you again, Sallow. I hope you had a good summer holiday."

And with that, she quickly turns and walks away in the direction she had been coming from, leaving a very confused Sebastian behind. He watches her as she walks away and her long, swishing braid is the last thing he sees before the door closes behind her at the far end of the bridge.

Eventually, he gathers his wits and wanders away.

He does not go to the first Crossed Wands meeting that afternoon after all.

She has not had a full-night's sleep since he somehow cursed her mind and her thoughts a week ago, and she can feel herself slowly slipping into insanity. A curse is the only answer that makes sense, the only thing that gives a conceivable answer to all the wicked dreams she has been having since that moment, dreams that cause her to wake up sweaty and breathless and needing him in the middle of the night in a way she has never felt before. She has been an absolute mess, a disastrous version of her normally quite put-together self, and she is not happy about it.

He's sitting next to her now - they were partnered up by the evil Professor Onai in their first NEWT Divination class of the year - and she's holding herself rigidly, arms tight across her chest, in an attempt to not accidentally touch him. Lately, every single time they make fleeting eye contact across the table during breakfast, or when they pass each other in the hallways, a shiver runs down her spine at the unfamiliar look in his eyes and she has to avert her eyes before it's too much.

Divination has never been a favorite subject of hers - too impermeable for her tastes. She is only taking it at the NEWT level because, during her career counseling with Professor Ronen at the end of her fifth year, he had said that if she wanted to be an Unspeakable she couldn't just work with logic (a preposterous thought, but as a sixteen-year-old she hadn't seen any recourse in arguing with the Ministry's requirements). She supposedly needs to get comfortable with the intangible as well. It doesn't mean she has to enjoy it, though: she doesn't, and never will. The Divination classroom is dark and stuffy, tucked away in one of the highest towers of the castle, and the nauseating smell of incense always coats her nasal cavities long after the class has finished. She finds her thoughts getting muddled in the haze of candle smoke and swirling orbs on the shelves around her - magic somehow always feels thicker up here - and the presence of a certain someone whose knees keep brushing hers under the tiny table they're sharing, a certain someone who has - improbably, inconceivably, impossibly - hit a growth spurt that summer and now towers over her and had encompassed her completely when he knocked her to the ground, isn't helping her concentration at -

"This week, we are going to review everything we learned together last year," Professor Onai says, after the class had rearranged itself based on her instructions. Sebastian shoots a look at her as she shakes her head in an attempt to clear it and sits up straighter. She hopes that Onai's lecture will help her concentrate and clear her mind a bit. If she has something to focus on, to try and think of and remember, it will be better than him. Anything would be better than Sebastian. Onai gives an appraising look to each table before continuing her speech. "As your NEWTs are at the end of the year, we need to make sure you are as prepared as possible. Open your books to page two-hundred and thirty. Today we're going to review the art of palmistry. I should hope that you do not need the aid of your textbook to help interpret the lines in your partner's palm but in the case that you do -"

She chances a glance at Sebastian before getting out her copy of Divining the Undivinable from her bag and wishes she hadn't. He looks uncomfortably big sitting on the tiny tea chair across from her, barely any hints of the boy who had completely swept her away two years ago visible on the sharper planes of his face. When had he - had they - grown up?

Sebastian Sallow was - is - charming, and that had been her downfall. She had successfully avoided his charms the year before, and she wasn't going to let that happen this year, no matter how much her body rebelled against her mind and resolve. Because, as she reminds herself, Sebastian Sallow is also manipulative, and cold-hearted, and selfish.

"Well," she says archly, opening her book. She will not look at him. "I suppose I am still quite ignorant of the practice of Divination, so do forgive me if I have to double-check my readings in the textbook."

He says her name as she opens the book, and she ignores him. He says her name again. She continues to ignore him. He grabs the book from her hands and puts it the correct way for her. She was looking at it upside-down. Her cheeks heat up and she continues flipping through the pages, as if nothing has happened. She finds page two-hundred and thirty. She pretends to be interested in what she sees.

(Divination is unfortunately not interesting.)

Oh, fine.

"Do you want to start, or should I?"

These are the first words she has voluntarily spoken to him - not including the events of last week, which do not count as they were most decidedly not voluntary - since he called her ignorant a year and a half ago. He somehow looks surprised to see that she has addressed him, and for some reason this fills her with rage and a strange sort of confidence. Why shouldn't she be able to talk to him?

"Here," she says, putting her hand out towards him, palm up, ignoring the strange fluttering feeling in her chest when he gently grabs it with one of his. Sebastian looks up at her, waiting for her to continue speaking, and were she not looking at him so intently she would have easily missed the bob of his throat as he swallows nervously. "Show me how it's done."

Her breath catches in her throat at the small, mischievous smirk he shoots to her before he bends over her hand and gently starts tracing the lines on her palm with the fingers of the hand that's not holding hers in place. His touch is feather-light and somehow soft, despite the roughness of his fingers as they drag over her palm. Every nerve in her body seems to have moved to wherever he touches and all of the bravado and anger she had just felt is quickly melting away. When she finally finds her voice, she hates how soft and breathy it sounds. She can't look away from the sight of his larger hands caressing hers.

"Well? What do you see? Do you remember the different lines? Because I -"

She falters. The murmurs of their classmates blend together in the background and the dim lights of the candles...the hazy, thick atmosphere and his proximity and the barely there touches of his rough fingertips on her sensitive palm are altogether too overwhelming and she needs to get out of there. She's supposed to be angry with him. Furious, even. Holding this grudge has been the only way she has been able to have any sort of power over him this past year, and yet...all she can think about at the moment are the sinful dreams she's been having lately where he presses her against a wall, desperately kissing her lips, her neck - even she knows that there has to be more to it - but what?

Sebastian blinks as she snatches her hand away like it's been burned and - oh, Merlin - she shoves the textbook back into her schoolbag and almost knocks the candle on the table over and wouldn't it be awful if she had started a fire? But she can't think about any of that now in her haste to just get out of the claustrophobic Divination tower.

Vaguely, she can hear Professor Onai asking her if everything is fine and she's not sure but she thinks she mumbles something about needing to go to the Hospital Wing - that's a good enough excuse to leave, isn't it? - but then she hears his voice, deep and cutting through the fog in her mind -

"Don't worry, I'll take her and make sure she gets there fine." A muffled response from their professor and then his voice, just as clear as before. "No, I don't know what happened..."

She hears him calling her name as she flees down the spiral staircase, almost tripping over her feet in her rush to get away from him, but he catches up quickly, reaching out to grab her arm in an attempt to slow her down. She stops running immediately - she supposes her traitorous body wants to see what he has to say, or maybe it just wants to bask in his intoxicating proximity. He crowds her space, and she sees that unfamiliar look in his eyes again. So very different from the cold disdain she had seen the last time she had been this close to him, during the argument that had ended their friendship.

"Let go of me," she whispers, but there's no conviction in her voice as she gazes into his deep, brown eyes. He can tell she doesn't mean it and doesn't make any move to listen to her. Why can't she hold on to the rage? A muggle quote about anger floats through her mind: Holding on to anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die. What a sweet poison her anger at Sebastian had been, while it lasted. She tries telling herself that he must still feel the same as the evening he had called her ignorant (ignoring the small voice in her head that reminded her of the letters of apology he had sent (that she had burned without reading), the times he had tried to get Anne or Ominis involved and apologize for him) - because why couldn't he just tell her himself? Maybe she had shut down any and all attempts he had made to repair the rift that he had caused in the first place, but she had been right to be so angry with him.

But oh, Merlin, he's getting closer to her, and she can now clearly see the freckles dusting his cheeks and nose and forehead and then before she knows it, his hand is sliding up her arm, leaving goosebumps everywhere he touches and then he's caressing her jaw with his rough thumb and he pauses. Her eyelids flutter closed as her head tilts towards him - she couldn't stop herself even if she wanted to (what does she want?). She can feel his warm breath ghosting over her lips and she has the improbable, ridiculous thought - how is he remembering to breathe? - before he speaks. His lips brush against hers with every soft word and a deep shiver runs through her body.

"I," she hears him say, his voice so, so low, "haven't been able to think since last week."

That's all she needs to hear, the brush of his bottom lip against hers all she needs to feel, to push her into closing what minuscule distance there is between them and then his lips are on hers and it's better than anything she's been imagining. His mouth is soft against hers, insistent, and her hands go up to grip the collar of his plaid jacket to make sure he doesn't go away or disappear on her.

She knows she's behaving wantonly, snogging Sebastian Sallow in the middle of the hallway where anyone could come across them, but third period has only just started and besides, she has had a week of restless nights being tortured by thoughts of him. A week of a few hours of sleep found here and there. Just one kiss should be enough to help her get over these strange feelings, right? She only feels like this because having him lie on top of her after he crashed into her - that satisfying weight of him - the friction of his thumb brushing against her nipple - had made her realize just how stupid she had been, holding this grudge against him for -

She whimpers in protest but it quickly turns into a moan as his mouth moves away from hers and down to her neck. He pulls at her tight collar desperately - she hears some seams ripping - to give him better access to it, and she finds herself arching her back and pushing her body closer to his as he nuzzles her neck with his nose before giving it open, sloppy kisses. When he hears her, he moves back to kissing her, greedily capturing every breathy moan that comes out of her mouth, but the noises coming from him are matching hers, and at the sound she feels an unfamiliar clenching deep in her stomach. Her fingers come up to his hair, going through the silky curls over and over - how are they as soft as his lips? - and he slowly pushes her back until she's sandwiched between his warm body and the cold stone of the wall behind her.

He lets out a low, frantic growl as a hand goes to grip the back of her head, holding her in place as he slants his mouth over hers. He tastes like cinnamon and...like something forbidden. What has gotten into her? She hates him, and yet...

They have abandoned any pretense of propriety - had they ever even been trying? - by this point. His tongue swipes across her lips and then she is completely lost to him, to every sensation of his mouth, and tongue, on hers. His large hands - the wicked hands that had been caressing her palm and had caused this whole mess in the first place - have moved to her waist and are pulling her even closer to him. When he pulls away briefly, she whines in protest, opening her eyes to glare at him. The sight of him, flushed and breathless, his eyes wide and pupils dilated - must match her own appearance because she sees the same hunger she feels in his eyes. She has never seen Sebastian Sallow so disheveled, but she finds she quite likes it and tugs on his curls with a whine. He obliges eagerly, bringing his mouth back to hers.

She's pressed as tightly against him as she can possibly be, and yet it still isn't enough. Her back arches once again, trying to find something, and then he slots one of his knees between her legs. She moans at the friction caused by his movements, can feel an unfamiliar slickness forming at the juncture between her legs, and this seems to spur him on further as his kisses get more desperate and sloppy. She moves against his leg, trying to relieve some of her discomfort, gasping into his mouth, when -

They freeze. Even if they are fully, completely, absorbed by...whatever this is, they can't ignore the strange, metallic clanking sound coming from their left. Sebastian pulls his head back from her slowly, reluctantly, breathing heavily, and looks over to see what the noise is. She wants to, but all of a sudden the horrifying reality of what they've been doing sinks in and oh god what if the noise is a person? Someone who has now seen her in what might possibly be the most mortifying moment of her life - desperately snogging Sebastian Sallow - and she finds she can't look over. She tucks her head into his neck to hide her face as she listens.

"I demand that you get away from her at once, you knave! Cease your attack!"

The voice sounds vaguely familiar, but she's certain that it doesn't belong to any of her classmates. He almost sounds...medieval, but -

"I made haste when I heard sounds of distress coming from down the hallway," the voice continues, "and it appears I have arrived not a moment too soon!"

She brings her head away from Sebastian's shoulder but still refuses to look over at whoever is speaking, instead choosing to stare at Sebastian's face. He's still deliciously flushed from their snogging, still breathing heavily, but now he looks terribly confused. His brows are furrowed, mouth opening and closing as he tries to come up with a response to the outrage currently being directed at him.

The unknown man is continuing his diatribe, almost not even stopping to breathe as he gets more and more worked up, and she hears some more clanking as he reaches a particularly exciting moment in his rant. Sebastian looks increasingly confused, but still shields her with his body, not moving away from her at all despite the accusations.

Her curiosity gets the better of her and she peeks over to see who it is.

The man who has been reprimanding Sebastian so boldly is none other than Sir Cadogan. Although she's never interacted with him directly, she often hears him yelling at his pony as she passes his portrait on her way to Divination. The knight is standing between two witches having tea, who are glaring at him quite angrily as he gesticulates wildly - every movement of his sword comes dangerously close to their display of cakes and sandwiches and it looks like he has already broken some plates. His armor is ill-fitting and loose on him, which explains the terrible noise.

"You rascally knave! I assure you that you do not want to find out what will happen to you if you do not unhand the fair maiden."

He brandishes his sword again, and the woman closest to him quickly snatches her tea cup away to save it from being broken as well. "Come now, Sir Cadogan," she says, exasperated. "Can't you see that these two are in love?"

The other woman joins her protests, nodding vigorously. "Yes, exactly that. Leave them be!"

"Nonsense," he exclaims. "I too have succumbed to my baser instincts on occasion and I can assure you that this is decidedly not what is occurring."

As Sir Cadogan continues to alternate between lecturing her and Sebastian, and directing his two attention to the ladies who are defending them, she looks back to the boy in question. Sebastian is looking down at her, a bemused smile on his lips and she feels a twinge in her chest. His face is still so close to hers that if she wants to, they could be snogging again with barely any effort and her eyes briefly flicker down to his tempting mouth before going back to his eyes, but...

What had gotten into her? What is she doing?

He had somehow managed to manipulate her again, because there is no way that this situation could have happened otherwise. All of a sudden, the anger she's been feeling for the past year and a half - that had left for a brief, blissful moment - surges again, and she pushes Sebastian away from her with as much force as she can muster. She almost feels bad as the happiness in his face turns to confusion, then frustration as he realizes she's getting away from him.

"Stay away from me," she hisses, picking up her discarded schoolbag from its spot on the ground. As she stalks down the hall, she can hear Sir Cadogan cheering on her bravery over the ringing in her ears.

She has a lot of thinking to do.

Sebastian Sallow's List of Priorities (in no particular order):

Figure out what the hell I'm going to do when I graduate;

Figure out how the hell I'm going to finish this bloody Charms essay before tomorrow; and

Figure out what the hell is going on between us

Sebastian sits in an undisturbed corner of the library - nobody ever comes to this table because it's tucked away between shelves of incredibly dense magical theory books - and is twirling his quill in his fingers, watching the ink splatter on the list he spent his precious time writing instead of the Charms essay he should be working on. He's far away from the first-years who like to congregate by the windows and watch the leaves fall softly to the ground rather than study for their classes. He's made especially sure that he is far, far away from her.

It's not his choice, mind you, but he needs to be a gentleman about these things. If she needs some time and space to figure out that she's as crazy for him as he is her, fine. But even Sebastian Sallow's patience runs thin, and he's not sure how much longer he can give her to come to her senses before he snaps and takes matters into his own hands. If things were up to him, the two of them would be sitting far too close together now in this secluded corner, and maybe he would need to put a hand over her mouth to ensure her complete silence as he runs a hand up her thigh.

Now that he knows what delicious sounds can come out of her mouth - sounds that he caused - he's been having a hard time concentrating on, well, anything. Sebastian surreptitiously glances across the library to where she's sitting and studying with his sister and Imelda. Ever since the events after their Divination class, Sir Cadogan has taken it upon himself to follow Sebastian around the halls of the castle, tripping through frames and disrupting their inhabitants as he lectures Sebastian on love. The tea party women had managed to convince the knight that he had disrupted an amorous exchange, and Sebastian fervently wishes they hadn't.

The whole school is abuzz with rumors about who it could be. Nobody has even come close so far with their guesses, but Anne and Imelda are having too much fun teasing him about it. Somehow, she has managed to avoid suspicion - he wonders how this is even possible, since she's never been able to hide what she's thinking. He makes eye contact with her - has she been staring at him this whole time? - and she flushes before looking over to Imelda, who's laughing too loudly at something Anne's just said. Sebastian can't tear his eyes away from her profile, his eyes following the curve of her eyebrow, the slight upturn of her lips as she smiles at her friends, her eyes as they dart back to him, her cheeks as she turns an even darker shade of red as she realizes he's still watching her. She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, and rests her chin on her hand as she tries to look absorbed in what Anne is saying to her.

Sebastian wonders if she's thought about him as much as he's thought about her. Judging by how she had snogged him back, he's positive that she feels the same way, but then he remembers how she had looked at him before she fled, and he's not so sure. He sighs as he looks back to his list, bringing his quill back to the third item and ripping the paper as he crosses it out again. His mind has been going in circles since that moment and he doesn't know what to think. He slowly puts everything into his schoolbag before heading out of the library for yet another freezing cold shower that hopefully tempers his now-permanent state of arousal whenever she's around.

He doesn't notice her eyes following him as he walks out of the library.

He doesn't hear her hurried excuse to Anne and Imelda as she shoves her things into her bag and rushes to follow him.

He doesn't hear her light footsteps as she gets closer to him.

When she puts a hand out to touch his arm as he waits for the moving staircase to stop, with a soft, "Sebastian" accompanying it, he nearly jumps out of his skin. He was so absorbed with thoughts of her, that to see her standing at his side, closer than she had been since they kissed was almost his snapping point.

"Can we talk?" she asks, looking almost embarrassed as she avoids his eyes. She instead looks determinedly at his collar. He thinks she probably notices that he swallows nervously before acquiescing, but she says nothing as she turns and starts hurrying away from him without waiting to see if he follows her.

She must know that he would follow her anywhere at this point.

They weave through hallways - Sebastian vaguely wonders where exactly they're going - before reaching a little alcove, hidden by a suit of armor. She looks around before pulling him into it. It's almost curfew and the halls are never that busy when the weather is as beautiful as it has been these days - the end of September seems to be clinging on to the summer for as long as possible.

Her lips are on his before he can even ask her what she needed to talk with him about, hungry and desperate. Sebastian is too stunned to pull away - not that he would actually want to. Her arms wrap around his neck, keeping Sebastian close, slender fingers sliding through his hair.

"What," she says breathlessly between kisses - almost not even moving her mouth away from his enough to be able to enunciate properly, "are you doing to me? I haven't been able to think for the last month."

Sebastian smiles into her mouth, wondering if she knows that she's repeating the very thing he told her two weeks ago. Maybe she has been thinking of him all this time - he almost hopes that she's been suffering as much as he has. Instead of responding, he moves a hand to cup her jaw, deepening the kiss. His other hand moves to her waist, gripping it tightly, pulling her flush against his body and she gasps into his mouth. He slowly moves her closer to the window alcove behind them, snogging her senseless the whole time. She moans into his mouth which just spurs him on further - her skirt rides up to her hips as Sebastian trails a hand up her stockinged thigh and they both gasp when his hand reaches skin. Her skin is so, so soft and her breathing gets faster as he continues to caress her inner thigh, closer to the bend between her thigh and her center. Sebastian wonders if she's ever been touched there before by someone else and jealousy flares up inside of him at the thought.

In one swift move, he scoops her up and places her so that she's sitting on the window-ledge, the dusky light of the sunset illuminating her from behind and making her wispy flyaway hairs a golden halo around her. Sebastian's breath catches in his throat - has he ever seen anything so beautiful as her in that moment? - she's staring up at him, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, her breathing shallow and anticipation in her eyes. "You're," he starts saying and his throat goes dry. He brings a hand up to tuck the errant lock of hair - the one she had tucked earlier in the library - behind her ear and she leans her head into his touch, closing her eyes briefly before looking up at him again with wide eyes. "You're perfect."

She smiles faintly and pulls his head back down towards hers and now she's brushing her lips against his, teasing him, before it's too much and he grips the back of her head, holding her in place as he crushes his mouth against hers in a bruising kiss. Her knees are on either side of his waist, and she desperately grinds her core against his throbbing erection and they both groan at the friction. Sebastian moves his hands down to her thighs again as he kisses her, slowly caressing his way up and pushing her skirt up further until it's completely bunched around her waist. She gasps into his mouth at his first tentative touch after he pushes aside her undergarments. Sebastian swipes a finger up her slit, through the slick that coats it, and then he starts circling her clit with slow, even strokes. She shivers against him - at his touch - clinging tightly to his shoulders and gasping into his mouth as he continues.

Every little noise coming out of her mouth, feeling how wet she is, how the slickness keeps growing growing growing makes Sebastian hungry for more - it isn't enough -

Slowly - so slowly - he wants to savor this moment - he lowers himself until he's kneeling between her legs and he looks up at her. Her face is deliciously flushed, all swollen lips and hair in a wild cloud around her face and all she can do is stare down at him. Her chest is heaving and she tries to close her legs - hide what is exposed to him - but he holds her thighs firmly in place on either side of his head. He turns his head and kisses her inner thigh, maintaining eye contact as he swipes his tongue across where he's just kissed, moving closer towards her slick center.

"Oh," she breathes, not-quite-a-word, not-quite-a-gasp, when his mouth reaches her center and hovers over it, lips slowly teasing her the way she had just teased him. Sebastian tentatively runs his tongue up her slit; the loud moan she lets out when he reaches her clit makes him stay there, applying light and not-so-light pressure in equal measure.

Her hands are scrabbling at his hair, digging into his scalp, ruining his earlier attempts to make it look presentable, hopefully attractive, for her these days. She's pushing his head deeper into the space between her legs, starting to rock herself slightly on his mouth, and Sebastian is happy to oblige. He eagerly laps up her slit, and the obscene wet noises as he continues combined with her whimpers and barely-spoken profanities "oh-yes-fuck-yes-there-please-" are making him hard beyond belief. He's straining against his trousers, begging to be let free. Without moving his face from her, he unbuttons his trousers and starts palming himself, using the slickness weeping out of the tip as lubrication.

She's abandoned all control at this point, grinding herself into his face as he laps her up, and it's driving him wild - knowing that he's doing this to her - causing her to be so undone. Normally she's so poised and aloof, never letting any real emotion flicker across her face, so to see her so desperate and needy and wanting him so -

Sebastian's gasping into her, tongue deep inside of her, "ohmygod" he hears her whisper, her hips driving into his face when she shudders and goes still, pulsing around the tongue that's deep inside of it. He slows down, smiling as he continues to run his tongue up her slit until she's responsive again. He kisses her inner thigh and hears her moan before getting up, caressing a finger down her love-struck face and leaning his head down to kiss her deeply. With his other hand he's still touching himself - the thought that she can taste herself on his tongue driving him crazy - and he starts rubbing its blunt head against her swollen clit. She takes it out of his hand- he groans at the feeling of her soft hands (the hands he had held a week ago in Divination and pictured doing this exact thing) tentatively caressing his length before she begins to slide it up and down her slit, coating it in her wetness.

Sebastian has surrendered all control to her - resting his hands on either side of her hips on the windowsill, tucking his head into the crook of her neck and thrusting with her movements as he loses himself in the sensation of sliding through her slick folds. He can feel his release building building building, and when he finally comes, all over her perfect, pink center, it feels like a finally.

Sebastian feels so, so heavy as he pulls his head away from her shoulder, as if he could fall into a blissful sleep right there, in the little window alcove where they've hidden themselves away. The sun has now set completely and they're in shadow as they stare at each other, the sound of their ragged breathing filling the tiny space.

"Sebastian, I..."

She's staring at him with an unfathomable expression on her face, still holding him in her hand, her other hand playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. They look down and he feels his face heat up even more at the mess he's made - he quickly pulls out his wand and cleans her up, before looking back at her, giving her a wry smile as he buttons up his pants and helps her off the ledge. "What did you want to talk to me about, again?"

She gives a slight shake of her head and looks away, but she can't hide the small smile that's growing on her face just like she can't help her eyes that keep wandering over to his. He knows the growing smile on his face matches hers - did that really just happen? She reaches over to lace her fingers through his as they walk around the suit of armor. "I - it's not important."

"Come on," he says, not being able to resist the opportunity to tease her - he's somehow managed to break through the barriers she's set up around her, and he's not about to let the opportunity slide. "Surely that's not what you had in mind when you..."

Sebastian trails off as he sees the expression in her face turn to one of horror - he didn't think his teasing was that bad, was it? - but she's also pulling her hand out of his like she's been burned and -

He follows her gaze, to where it's fixed at the end of the hallway and he knows that once again his face mimics hers. He will never live this down.

Standing at the end of the hallway and looking like two cats who've just found a huge dish of milk, are his sister and Imelda.

Misery.

Complete and utter misery are what she's feeling, if she has to put it into words, which she does. Writing things down always helps her out, helps her organize her thoughts into some sort of order. Except...this time around, it's not really helping. She can't seem to make any sense of her feelings for Sebastian.

She looks over the muddled mess of words she's written down - stream of consciousness, incomprehensible babble - and sighs. She's been dreaming of falling in love since she was a young girl - Jane Austen will do that to you - and can't believe that now that she's had her opportunity, it has to go and be with Sebastian Sallow. Because it has to be love, hasn't it?

There can be no other explanation for the painful way her stomach twists itself up whenever she catches a glimpse of him these days, the way he's consuming her every thought - even when she's dreaming she can't escape him. She can't get the sight of his tousled curls between her legs, his mischievous, warm brown eyes looking up at her as she had the most mind-numbing, toe-curling orgasm of her life - none of the times she's touched herself have ever come close to the sensations he managed to evoke.

Every time she's walking through the hallways between classes and hears his loud voice as he jokes with Garreth, or Ominis, about quidditch or Merlin-knows-what her eyes snap to his face as if he were the sun, and she a sunflower searching for its warmth. And he is most decidedly not the sun. He has the tendency to snort when he laughs, and he laughs too much, especially at his own jokes. Sometimes he talks while he eats. He always twirls his quill between his long fingers in the most annoying way, splattering ink onto any parchment unfortunate to be caught underneath. But he also...

He also always goes out of his way to prepare Ominis's Potions ingredients (why Ominis decided to take and was accepted into NEWT level is a mystery to everyone), occasionally stops to play a round of gobstones with Zenobia when he has the time. Sebastian can often be found in his favorite armchair in the Slytherin common room, resting his face on his hand as he idly flips through the pages of some book, looking altogether too handsome as he does so. And when he stretches and yawns at the end of every Arithmancy lesson - like he is now - his shirt lifts up a bit and she can see a tan sliver of his stomach and -

Snapping in front of her: she blinks and looks over: when she sees it's Imelda her face immediately turns beet red and she grabs the paper she's been doodling on and rips it to shreds as fast as she can.

"Are you fantasizing about a certain annoying someone?" Imelda asks with a wicked grin, dramatically looking over her shoulder at the certain someone in question. He's still stretching, blinking sleepily; when he notices the two girls watching him he flushes deeply. Her stomach twinges again at the sight of him noticing her - has he thought about her since that moment as much as she has? What would she do if he had? Or...if he hadn't? - and she focuses instead on the paper she is currently destroying.

"Imelda," she hisses, glaring at her best friend, "stop."

Imelda does not stop.

Imelda doesn't stop during their walk to Herbology, and she does not stop as they set up their planting stations, and she most certainly does not stop as they mutter charms over their plants.

Ever since she experienced the most wonderful moment in her whole life, followed by the most mortifying, Anne and Imelda have not stopped pestering her about it. They've finally solved the 'Sir Cadogan Puzzle' - I knew it was you all along, claims Anne - but if they truly knew what had happened between her and Sebastian, she's afraid the two of them would simply combust. She loves them dearly, but they never know when to stop, and they've been pushing and poking and prodding her for more information the whole week. She has managed to remain tight-lipped and, she hopes, mysterious about the whole thing, but she's getting tired of the teasing.

"Really," Anne says, wiping her forehead and leaving a trail of dirt behind, "if you would only talk to him, I would stop bothering you. Promise."

"Yes," chimes in Imelda, on her other side, wrestling the leaves of her own plant into submission. "You know, after we saw the two of you holding hands and looking at each other with stars in your eyes, I'm really starting to doubt that you hate him as much as you claim."

"Were the two of you snogging in secret all of last year too? Because, I'm starting to get annoyed thinking of all the times I had to talk to my brother for you because of your stubborn pride."

Does she still hate him? She certainly thinks she should, but then her thoughts get terribly confusing as she continues to think about him, and she realizes all of her old hatred has long since faded. Anne has forgiven her brother, Ominis has forgiven him, and all that remains is her.

They should talk, but she doesn't know what to say.

She's afraid that maybe the man she's been inventing in her mind this past month is simply a figment of her imagination - a fictitious being created by an accumulation of stolen glances when he doesn't know she's watching, someone who all of their classmates seem to like, someone who is very different from the fifteen-year-old boy she had that terrible argument with all that time ago. Maybe he doesn't actually exist.

She would be crushed if he's hiding the fact that he still holds on to that desperate darkness that had driven him to save Anne by any means necessary.

And so she keeps her space. She watches him from afar, feeling the hatred slowly melt off of her, falling more in love every day, but too cowardly to make the next move.

Anne and Imelda continue bantering on either side of her, not noticing - or, more likely, not caring - that she isn't participating.

Sebastian's hands are sweating. He wipes them on the inside of his robes as he glances at the girl next to him. She's holding herself rigidly, but she did this to herself, sitting next to him at dinner as she had.

Well, sitting next to him hadn't been completely her idea if he's being honest. He'd been having dinner with Anne, and the two of them were dying of laughter as she recounted seeing Duncan Hobhouse get tormented by Peeves earlier that day. One moment, Anne had been demonstrating what she had seen using her potatoes and green beans as props, and the next, a particularly evil grin had lit up her face as she pushed her plate away with gusto and jumped to her feet, calling her over.

"It would be such a shame for these potatoes to go to waste, seeing as I have a very important meeting to attend," Anne had said, after pushing her friend into the very tight space at Sebastian's side. "Never mind the mess, I can assure you I didn't actually eat the food..."

And with that, Anne had flounced away, Imelda on her arm, the two girls cackling to each other as they snuck wicked glances over their shoulders at the couple.

A couple who is now steadfastly avoiding each other and trying their hardest not to even brush elbows. Sebastian is altogether too aware of her presence, has been for the better part of a month, and his patience is dangerously close to snapping. He keeps getting maddeningly close to finally getting her to open up to him - had actually achieved it for a few blissful moments - just to have it be taken away again. It's almost embarrassing how many times he's thought about their encounter. She had been everything he'd been dreaming about and more - soft, responsive, just as desperate as him - so why has she been avoiding him so thoroughly?

Yes, he's caught her staring at him more times than he can count, with that same unfathomable expression she had before, almost dreamy - wistful - could it be love? But he knows that it's preposterous, wishful thinking on his part. If it were love - if she felt the same crazy, tumultuous emotions that he was feeling constantly - she wouldn't be so cold towards him. Even if she was staring at him more than ever before.

He doesn't notice as she slips a folded paper into the book sitting next to his plate, but he does notice that she sits next to him for barely five minutes, not even touching the food that Anne has so graciously left her, before she gets up and slips away without so much as speaking a single word to him, or even looking in his direction at all.

Sebastian's sitting in a nearly empty common room after curfew, flipping through his book as he normally does this time of day, when she sees him pause.

Although she's been waiting for this moment, watching him from the corner she's tucked herself away in, she feels ready to pass out from nerves. Her heart's ready to burst out of her chest as she watches him curiously pick up the letter she slipped in his book earlier, brow furrowed. She wrings her hands nervously as she watches him read the letter and flip over the page to see if there's more, and then he goes back to read it again from the beginning.

She wasn't expecting him to read it a second time, let alone a third time, still with an inscrutable expression on his face. Maybe she should have positioned herself closer so she could see every emotion flickering through his face as he reads - she's too far away to see anything and she curses her lack of foresight. If she moves now, he'll see her, and she doesn't even know what she was thinking when she wrote the letter, when she managed to convince Anne to help her get close to Sebastian earlier that night during supper, when she moved herself to sit in this corner just so she could watch him find and read the -

"Hello."

She nearly jumps out of her skin with a muffled shriek at the sound of his voice so close to her. Why does she feel almost guilty when she looks up at him? She's so, so afraid.

Emotions have never come easily to her. Showing them is something she's not sure will ever come naturally - Anne and Imelda can laugh and shout without a care in the world, but she always holds herself back. Hides a small part of herself away, that only she knows about. Baring herself completely to Sebastian in the letter she feverishly wrote the day before was like ripping out a part of her soul and giving it to him to keep. Once the words were written down, there was no way to take them back, not that she wants to.

But what if he rejects her?

Her eyes get hot and tears cloud her vision as she stares up at him, still wringing her hands together over and over, feeling like she's positively going to burst with the force of the emotions roiling around inside of her. Why did she think this would be a good idea?

Now he's kneeling in front of her, holding her hands in his bigger, rougher ones - reminiscent of that fateful day so long ago in Divination when he had flustered her so - and a thumb is gently wiping away the big, fat tears she didn't even realize were rolling down her cheeks and she lifts her face from watching their intertwined hands and gazes tremulously into his eyes.

They are so, so gentle and warm and full of love, but the emotions are still too much for her and she can't stop crying for some unfathomable reason, so the kiss they share is wet and lovely and full of incredulous laughter.

"I love you too," he whispers between kisses, over and over again, until the words almost lose meaning - but these words could never lose their meaning when they come from him.

  In the years to come, they always bicker about who was the first to say it. Sebastian says that writing doesn't count - that his words are the ones that decide who is the victor in this small argument - but she always just smiles at his insistence, knowing that he's kept her letter tucked inside whatever book he's reading since it first fell onto his lap.

[elvyn]

doodles some of my favs from One Piece because after two years I'm finally almost up to date with this anime😭