#(it's like. passing at best. could be read as platonic probably)

[krypticcafe]

Reader/ Y/n coming back to base covered in blood and tortured while 141 + Alejandro had no idea where reader was since they left in the morning.

Reader is "the little sibling/adopted child that we must protect all cause" to the boys

Love your writing so much ❤️

As Long as I'm Here

rating: mature

pairing(s): platonic gn!reader x 141 + alejandro

warning(s): canon-typical violence, language, drugs and drugging, torture, blood, military inaccuracies, no use of y/n, no beta read

a/n: Hope you don't mind that I decided to put this all in one long fic, kinda struggled with the writing direction with this since I had to rewrite it multiple times and I had to cut it short so I'll probably make a part two?

synopsis: it's going to take a lot more than simple torture to keep you from going back to the 141.

Part Two is now up!

"I'll be back before they know it."

Those were the last words you thought to yourself before you hopped off the helicopter. You and a team of other capable members of SpecGru and the Los Vaqueros had left before the crack of dawn for a joint operation and anticipated coming back by the afternoon if things went smoothly. And of course, they didn't.

No, you couldn't be afforded such a luxury as seen by how you were overwhelmed in battle. You wish you could've said you did your best, but god dammit you should've checked before entering that building, thinking you could lure the enemy away from the rest of your team. Compared to the hours you spent strapped to a chair with nothing but fluorescent light and a buzzing in your ears to compliment the throbbing pain in your head, you started to prefer the option of joining the rest of your teammates becoming target practice instead.

It didn't help either that the people who caught you were sick bastards. You could deal with the punches, a kick to the crotch, the hair pulling, cigar smoke, the blades, and having your body slammed around the place. It was nothing compared to practice with the 141 and prior missions you had with them. But when the metal cart of syringes came out, you knew you were beyond fucked, even when you had a swollen eye, a busted lip, broken ribs, open cuts, and burns. They took it a step further and injected experimental drugs you were supposed to investigate, homemade concoctions as they lovingly called them.

By pure shitty luck, you only escaped because one of them was stupid enough to clean up after offering you a glass of water when you woke up after passing out, dropping and shattering it in front of you, and not bothering to clean up. When your guard left to go take a piss break, you threw yourself to the floor and tried to squirm your way to the glass, using a shard to cut through your ropes. Once your guard came back, you pretended to still be bounded to your seat, coaxing him to come closer as if you wanted to confess something, and slit his throat. From there, it was easy now that you had a gun.

Or at least it was supposed to be. Maybe it was the heat of the moment or the adrenaline of finally being able to move, but the drugs hadn't fully kicked in until now. Your whole world seemed to sway, or maybe it was just you. You couldn't tell, all that mattered was that you could fight. Based on the layout of the building you were in, you were still in the same area as you were before. It took more bullets than you would've liked to admit to take down the guards that were in your way, but how was it your fault when the only two thoughts in your head were 'Where the fuck is my stuff' and 'God I'm gonna puke'.

Whoever kidnapped you really didn't think things through. Security was tight on the second floor but the bottom floor just had a single guy in the kitchen messing with a bag of crackers. You aimed your gun at him and click!

Click!

Clickclickclick!

Shit.

Well that caught his attention. You ducked down right when he reached for his gun, tossing your empty one to the side now that you'd be doing this the hard way. Waiting with bated breath, you took your window of opportunity, lunging when he had to reload. You took him by such surprise that he fumbled to put in another magazine and that allowed you to knock the weapon from his hands and tackle him to the ground. The both of you struggled on the hardwood floors for what felt like hours, but it was only a minute at most. Even in your feverish, dizzy, survival-instincts-only state, you overpowered him and stabbed him with his own knife.

Towering over the body, you gasped for breath, feeling your lungs struggling to expand and contract if you didn't force yourself to focus on the task. Great, now you're sweaty, weak, bloody, and out of breath. Based on how your hands started trembling, your symptoms were getting worse. Pacing around the area, you found your bag on a couch and fished around for the radio, yelling out your callsign before the rest of them would discover why their friends were suddenly so silent over comms.

"Sending coordinates, get a chopper over to exfil ASAP. And a damn medic."

The 141 were back from their own mission when they had heard the news of your distress call. Ghost was on the verge of strangling one of men that was on the team with you if they didn't add the fact that you made a reckless move for the sake of the team. Ghost could agree that it was something that only you would do despite his constant arguing with you and his protectiveness over you. He'd keep an eye out for you from the shadows both on base and in the field, be the one to challenge you to push your limits during your sparring matches, make sure you were well-trained so you could protect yourself. And yet you would instead protect the 141's asses countless times.

Ghost was brooding in the helicopter, well, more like sulking after a mission with you and Soap. During the crossfire, he wasn't able to keep an eye out for his flank and see the grenade flying for him. In a desperate move, you shoved him out of the blast range with all your strength, landing you with a couple burns and injuries, but nothing fatal. You knew he was going to get moody afterwards, giving a knowing glance to Soap before turning back to Ghost and nudging his leg with your boot.

"Hey, L.T, you were in the British S.A.S, right?"

"..."

"Just answer the question! C'mon Ghost, for me? Pleaaaase?"

"Affirmative."

"So back then, if you were to get bathroom duty, would they call you a Loo-tenant?"

"... negative. Was promoted after joining the 141." He turned his head away, and despite his blunt, by-the-book response, you knew he was smirking under that mask of his, especially with how Johnny and you were both snickering your asses off.

"Ghost?"

Simon snapped out of his thoughts and looked back at Soap, visibly concerned for the masked man but reading him all at the same time. Years of working together helped Soap get over the boundary of Ghost's silence and stoicism, and Ghost wasn't the only one looking out for you after all.

"You alright, L.T?"

"Solid, just need a talk with Price."

"I know what you're thinkin', and as much as I'd love to shove it to the bastards, they're going to need us when they come back. Price will come up with something, we just hafta wait 'til then." For once, Soap was the voice of reason and Ghost couldn't argue with his point.

"He's right, you know." Price stood a few feet away from the two in the hall, "Kid's capable of themselves but they're going to need a shoulder to lean on when they get here. Maybe a couple stitches, too."

Price hoped it was only going to be a few stitches. Though he knew it probably wasn't the case. Alongside Roach and Gaz, he had trained you for these situations, ensuring it would never happen and it never did thanks to his mentorship. He saw you as one of his own and ensured that you'd be able to fight tooth and nail so that it would never end up like this. But now that it has, he could only wonder what could've been done to you for you to get captured.

He didn't want to wonder.

"Bloody hell, what did they do to you?" Gaz muttered, watching as you stepped down the ramp with a soldier aiding at your side. There was an attempt to bandage you up on the way, though it only seemed to be temporary since your bandages were already stained with blood and some of it oozed out. Even the bandages around your head didn't stop the crimson liquid from spilling down the side of your face. The soldier passed you to Gaz, immediately urging that your injuries be tended to.

"Something's wrong, look." Roach helped support your other side to allow Gaz to examine you.

With a closer look, Gaz found that your pupils were disturbingly dilated, eyes glazed over in a way that made you almost look dead. You were muttering and mumbling nonsense under your breath, something about the mission and wanting to go home.

Gaz swallowed an anxious breath and nodded, "We'll get you home soon, buddy. Roach, help me take off their gear."

As soon as the other man began unclipping your vest from your body, it seemed something had pulled a trigger in you.

"No... no you're not- don't fucking touch me-!" You slurred, weakly tearing yourself from the hands of your friends. It surprised Gaz that you had the energy to punch his chest with that much force, but it broke his heart all at the same time. Roach guessed that you were so out of it that you could barely comprehend your surroundings, hell, you probably thought you were still in captivity. It hurt to imagine your perspective, and how vulnerable you felt, thinking they were your enemies.

"What's going on here?" Price's voice rose over all the noise as people tried to calm you down, Soap and Ghost following behind him along with Alejandro, who joined them with no hesitance after hearing what happened.

Roach approached them, "I don't know, the Sergent just came back like this, like they're in some kind of haze."

"They're drugged, at least, I think. I took a look at them and they don't even look like they recognize us," Gaz struggled to keep you from falling but you were insistent on getting away from him, from everyone. Thankfully, Ghost had come up from behind you without being noticed and locked you in a hold. You tried to flail even more, but with your weakened state and Ghost's strength, all you could do was yell with sloppy words for him to let go of you. It hurt them all to hear you yowl and yelp like an animal in pain, but they knew that you'd only hurt yourself more if Ghost didn't keep you like this. He forced himself to ignore your cries and clenched his jaw, focusing on keeping his temper and how he was going to let it out when given a chance.

"Steamin' Jesus, Price, I thought this was a cartel recon mission?" Soap seethed at the thought of what might've happened. Torture was one thing, but it was this whole new level of "fucked-up" that had him wanting to snap and tear at the throats of your tormentors.

"It was," Alejandro spoke up, "There was talk of a new drug on the market, released even though it was 'incomplete'. Nobody know that it was more dangerous than it was supposed to be, nobody outside of them." The words left a sour taste in his mouth. Cartels being reckless was nothing new to him, it was something he had seen time and time again. But it was the lack of awareness, the blatant disregard for safety and society, and how they betrayed their own people that made him livid. As a leader, he emphasized his loyalty and dedication to his soldiers, which was why he considered those who worked for and with him to be friends or even family, like you. So to him, if someone had messed with you, they were messing with him and his army as well.

Price glanced in the direction of you and Ghost for a moment, watching you finally begin to calm down from tiring yourself out. His gaze softened after you finally went limp, but still breathing, and he felt a pang of disappointment in himself for the briefest of moments. Maybe if he had known you'd leave so early in the day, he could've better prepared you. Maybe he should've assigned one of the others to join you so you wouldn't be in this predicament. But he didn't know. He didn't expect things would go this far south. None of them did.

"We'll finish the job first and then," Price took one last look as you were taken away on a stretcher, unconscious but writhing with a pained expression.

"We give them hell."

[fanaticsnail]

Oh snail, i know you already have a long list of WIPs (i can't wait to read them) and your Inbox is probably already full with requests, so i understand if its not in the cards right now.

I was just wondering what the kid-pirates would do, or how they would react if ther precious doc-reader is the one that was injured badly or was very sick. Especialy how Killer would react after that romantic tention between them (i need more of that 😩). I don't have a particular song in mind, because the seires already has a vibe to it, hope thats okay.

I wish you a wonderful day/night/evening! 💕Sooo looking forward to your next work, whatever it may be 🐢

I love you for this prompt, @daydreamer-in-training. Thank you!

Sit your ass down, would ya, Doc?

Hey Doc Masterlist here

Word Count: 2,000+

Synopsis: You've taken care of your crew and nursed them back to health from their flus... but now it's your turn. The Kid-Pirates do their best to take care of the worlds worst patient, their doctor: you.

Themes: platonic!kid-pirates, eustass kid x gn!reader, swearing, illness, comforting, taking medication, kid is a bit of a dom, doc is a bit of a bra, you're the kid-pirate doctor: the crew calls you 'doc'.

Notes: I am currently struggling with the flu myself, and this was simply too cute to not write about. Thank you for your ask, it's been fun to write about!

Tag List: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @sinning-23 @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @sordidmusings @nerium-lil

“Hey, Doc? Did we need any more petroleum jelly from the-...?” the fire breather called beside you, hating when you turned to face him, “...-Shit, Doc. You look like absolute balls today.” 

Rolling your swollen, glassy and red eyes at him, you draw another tissue from your counter and sneeze into it. The silky tissue felt like sandpaper over your leaky nose, the skin splitting surrounding your nostrils and leaving small stains of red on the pale paper.

“Always so full of compliments and kindness, Heat,” you huff out, your voice sounding hoarse and cracking along with every word. Heat cringed, recoiling away from you with eyes narrowed in sympathy. You attempt to breathe through your blocked nose, no air passing through the dual nostrils.

Treating the crew for the past two weeks, and nursing them to health in recovering from the flu, had finally caught up with you. You felt both cold and hot at the same time, your skin both dry and sticky with sweat. Mind swelling and cracking behind the tense throbbing throughout your brain caused a dull ache ringing in your ears and fogging your mind.

“I-... I’m just saying, Doc,” he reiterated in defense of himself, “You don’t look too good. Maybe you ought to sit out from the in-land trip to restock. Stay home on the Victoria Punk?” Heat suggested with a soft smile and a subtle shrug.

“What?” you grunted out a cough, “And leave you lot to restock my clinic for me? Not fucking like-...” coughing into another tissue, your glassy eyes pricked at the corners and began to spill out and down your cheeks, “...-likely.” 

Heat’s smile fled from his face, his lip downturning in sympathy. He shook his head and extended his hand out to you, gesturing you to follow him out through the door towards the deck. You attempt to sniff back another intake of air to reopen your nose to no avail. Following on, you trudge somberly towards the top deck where the crew were all waiting to step foot onto the pier. 

Without drawing attention to yourself, your eyes squinted lazily to compensate for the pain the sun caused your mind. With each achy step, you attempted to bite back the ache your body was going through. Barely aware of your surroundings, you gesture in the medicinal remedy booths at town square for herbs, ointments and aromatic fragrances. 

As you reached into your pocket to pull out your small folder of Berry, a large right forearm reached over your shoulder and paid the vendor before you could. Rolling your eyes, you turn to look at the scowling grimace of your captain, Eustass Kid, baring his rage down at you. Attempting to roll your eyes at him again, you clenched them tightly shut instead as the world became far too bright to process.

“Captain,” you acknowledge him with a clumsy nod, fighting the urge to not to fall over with the vertigo overcoming you. He growled at you immediately, gesturing to Wire beside him to gather the supplies and walk back to the ship. 

“You’re a real fuckin’ idiot, aren’t ya, Doc?” he spat, scolding you with his heavy growl. You laughed at him, shaking your swirling head and beginning to walk beside him. Your overexertion and sleep deprivation caught up with you as you tripped over an uneven divot in the rocky path.

“I'm not into degradation, Cap,” you respond in a half-joking hum, your eyes feeling heavy and weighted, “Not my kink. Might be yours, though, considering the amount of times I yell at you to hold you accountable.” That comment earnt you another low growl from your captain, his face turning a few shades darker than his hair. 

He turned to face you at his side, his lips curling as if to speak. As he opened his lips, he was lost for words as you fell into him, bracing yourself against him to steady your walk. He caught you in his right arm, bringing his face down towards you and brows knitting with concern. Turning towards Wire, he cocked his chin to the side to usher him on towards the ship. 

With no further warning, Kid dipped at the knees and hoisted you up into his chest beneath your thighs. He curled his bicep and hooked your head beneath his chin and cradled you firmly into him. Under usual circumstances, you would’ve fought this tooth and nail.

You do not enjoy being manhandled by the crew, especially by your captain. While you enjoy the embrace once in a while with your more sensitive crewmates, particularly Bubblegum, the Captain has only ever been this close to you when he’s sparring with you.

“C’mon Doc, I'll get you seen to,” he grunted down at your position curled into his chest, “I’ve-... And the-...” his words trailed off, the fever raising your temperature higher and prompting you to seek out sleep against his pectoral. 

Voices and words fade in and out of your ears, a slow drawl and murmurs of several of your crewmates swelling around your assumed resting spot for the day. The room wasn’t physically moving, even though your vertigo suggested it was. 

“When was the last time Doc’s had a day off?” you recognised the feminine voice of Quincy in the room beside you. Several grunts and incessant babbling reverberated around the room, prompting you to flutter your eyelashes open and push through the pain. 

“Doc!” you cringed as a body almost flew into your bed, sitting on the plush sheets beside you, “You’re awake! I’m so happy to see you’re up!” You wince, slowly waving Bubblegum away, swatting at his zig-zagged head.

“Off, off,” you shooed him, wincing as you shrugged your duvet off your thighs and swung your legs over the side of the bed. As you began to wobble to your feet, the booming voice of your captain called over the chatter of the room,

“Sit your ass down, would ya, Doc?” he growled, striding over in intentional steps and giving you a shove from his right hand in the middle of your chest, “The medics here said you need a week in bed to rest. Sit down.” You growled at him, doing your best to gather the strength to growl at him. 

“If I’ve been prescribed ‘rest’,” you began, gesturing to the crewmates surrounding your current room, “Why the fuck are you all here?” Several sheepish mutters surround the room, a few members pinching the scruffs of their necks, a few more wringing their hands in front of their waists. 

Your captain clapped his hand on your shoulder, pushing you to lay back down and wrangling you into your bedsheets. Refusing to go down without a fight this time, you wriggled in his grip and fought both the fever and the strong arm of your captain. 

“For fucks sake, Doc!” Kid yelled at you, pushing and shoving you down into the very comfortable and unfamiliar bed in front of the crew. “Just lay down and rest, damn it! Go back to sleep.” You wriggled harder. 

“No!” you yelled defiantly, kicking off the duvet and fighting each and every time your captain attempted to shove you into your bed. Kid looked around to the crew, angled his chin sharply to wordlessly order them to leave the room. As they left, Kid turned back towards you and crawled up onto the bed. 

“You are more of a pain in the ass than that fucking bullet to the buttcheek,” he growled, climbing over you and baring down his weight onto your smaller frame. Straddling your thighs, he placed his knees on your open palms and successfully pinned you beneath him. He pressed his forearm over your chest and gave you a firm shove to force you to lay down. You had no choice but to thump your head back into the plush pillow behind your head. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, you clench your jaw and growl behind your lips. The rumble in your throat hurt the raw swell in your jugular, but you pushed past it to air your frustrations at him regardless. The chuckle from your captain above you only served to propel your anger to rise higher. 

“Yeah, yeah. Growl and groan all you want,” he scoffed at you, pinning your chest with his bicep while reaching his hand between you and gathering the blankets in his fist. Slowly raising it up, he continued his place straddling your thighs until he thought you would no longer fight him. 

“Why are you doing this, Captain?” you snarl at him, finally opening your eyes to gaze up into his eyes. He smirked at you in response, pressing his palm to your forehead and clicking his tongue at the temperature. 

“Because,” he leaned over to the bedside, taking two small spherical tablets into his hand, “We love you, Doc.” He leaned back over you, gesturing with his chin for you to part your lips. You take a moment to snarl at him before complying, parting your lips and allowing him to place the bitter tablets on your tongue. 

He leaned back over to the bedside, finding a glass of water and bringing it down to your lips. Tilting the glass slowly as it brushed with your bottom lip, he carefully fed you a sip of water to take the pills with. Placing the glass back over on the table, he drew his attention to the small amount of water seeping from the corner of your lip.

“Now, be a good Doctor and get loved on, idiot,” he softly huffed, his voice low and husky as he leaned forward. He used the pad of his thumb to gently collect the spill of water from the corner of your lips. Your eyes never ceased its glare up at him. He grinned tauntingly down at you, arching his brow and ensuring you swallowed the tablets. 

“Get off, Captain,” you growled at him, bucking your hips up in an attempt to remove him from your body. He cackled his rumbled laugh down at you in response, shaking his head. 

“You gonna get up again if I do?” he asked, leaning down and caressing your cheek in a gentle stroke. His eyes held nothing but mischievous mockery, but his hand felt like it was gently coaxing you to comply with what he asked. 

“No, I’ll behave,” you snarled at him. His laugh was genuine this time, low and gentle. Slowly backing off you, he slid off your body before adjusting the sheets and smoothing them over. 

“Good,” he nodded, beginning to leave the room by the door off to the side of the room. Halting at the door, he fought with himself for a moment before looking at you over his shoulder and uttering, “I’ll-… I’ll get Kil to check on you in a few hours. Get some rest, okay?”

What he said next was something you weren’t expecting to come from his lips. In all the time you served with him, he only ever called you ‘Doc’, or ‘Doctor.’ You were your title, and you appreciated that about the crew. You were Doc, only ever Doc. But what he said changed all that.

After he uttered the word “okay,” it was immediately followed by your name. Waiting a few moments, you responded in a cadence just above a whisper. 

“I’ll be right where you left me, Kid,” you replied with a soft smile back at him. He closed his eyes, offering you a reflection of your smile in return before it grew back into its usual mischievous face. 

“Good,” he again offered you, scrunching his nose up at you and looking up through his red eyelashes at you, “Otherwise I would’ve gotten your doting daddy to come coddle his whiny baby.” Your eyes went wide, your jaw clenching and your eyebrows shot up to your hairline. 

Eustass Kid just laughed in response, exiting the room and giving you both the time and space you needed to recover. Your recovery was not only the flu, but of the second hand embarrassment that Killer must’ve relayed to Kid what he’d said to you in the consultation room. Either that, or you left the shell of your Den-Den accidentally activated from when you spoke with your captain earlier in the day.

Either way, you pouted as you did as you were told and huffed back into your bed and went to sleep: the paracetamol activating and stilling your swelling head and masking the undertones of pain in your body.

[baldval]

There isn't enough wholesome shipping content so can I ask for Alastor, Angel, Husk, the Vees, and Lucifer with an S/O who likes to cook and bake and it's their primary love language. Hust making sure they've eaten or have treats to snack on or even cooking with them.

BAKING W HAZBIN!₊˚⊹♡

characters: alastor, angel, husk, vox, velvette, valentino, lucifer

warnings: incredibly fluffy fluff fluff fluff

a/n: this can be mostly read as both platonic or romantic (except for the parts where i explicitly say that it's romantic) so enjoy x.

ALASTOR:

ᰔ lowkey probably has never even baked before.

ᰔ just never had any interest in it.

ᰔ he really likes eating baked goods tho.

ᰔ especially the sweet stuff.

ᰔ total sweet tooth.

ᰔ he helps out sometimes in the kitchen at home, but nothing crazy.

ᰔ if you like baking, and you invite him to come join, he is so down.

ᰔ he's not the best at it, and you'll need to guide him through a lot of the process.

ᰔ but he is so eager about it.

ᰔ will request that you bake specific things together depending on what he's craving.

ᰔ if he has a crush on you, he'll become more bold about his recipe requests.

ᰔ he'd also try to intitiate baking hangouts more often.

ᰔ the entire time he'll be sneaking glances at you with this cute slight blush on his face.

ᰔ he is no stranger to pretending to not know how to do something so you'll come over and help him too.

ᰔ if things get more serious, i can see him getting more into it.

ᰔ but it'll always be more your thing.

ᰔ your number one supporter though.

ᰔ brags about you and what you baked all the time.

ANGEL:

ᰔ another one to not really be seen baking unless someone invites him to do it.

ᰔ except unlike alastor, who can make do, he's terrible at it.

ᰔ he can kinda cook?

ᰔ to an extent.

ᰔ but his baking is on a whole other level.

ᰔ he does really enjoy it though.

ᰔ just… mostly aesthetically?

ᰔ the process of creating something from scratch, assembling the ingredients, kneading them together, and watching them become something beautiful.

ᰔ it's all very soothing to him.

ᰔ loves the smell too.

ᰔ regardless of if you're in a platonic or romantic relationship, he would never decline an invitation to come bake with you.

ᰔ though he would definitely stay on the sidelines, prefering to instead keep you company and hand you what you ask for.

ᰔ will send you recipes that remind him of you.

ᰔ if he has a crush on you, or if you are in a romantic relationship with him, you might notice him making every excuse on earth to spend more time with you in the kitchen.

ᰔ and he'll do everything he can to help out too!

ᰔ passing you tools, giving you praise, cleaning up after you, brushing the flour from your cheek.

ᰔ name it, he'll do it.

ᰔ he's so sweet about it too.

ᰔ will offer to feed you, and never fails to have the biggest grin on his face when you agree.

HUSK:

ᰔ local hotel bartender probably does not bake.

ᰔ probably pretty impartial to sweet things as well.

ᰔ he's just more of a savory guy.

ᰔ if you liked baking, and you ever decided to invite him along for the ride, he'd actually be down for it.

ᰔ it's not his thing, but it's yours.

ᰔ and if it'd make you happy to spend time with him like that, he sees no reason to say no.

ᰔ just make sure to guide him along and give him tasks.

ᰔ otherwise he's completely lost.

ᰔ if he has a crush on you, I could see him taking interest in your favourites.

ᰔ shyly requesting to cook those together next time.

ᰔ he'd try to appear nonchalant about the final product, but inside he's actually pretty happy he did it.

ᰔ especially after seeing your reaction.

ᰔ and if you guys do end up getting more serious, he may actually even end up getting pretty good at it.

ᰔ even going so far as to learn a few recipes by himself .

ᰔ he just wants to learn how to cook the things you like the most.

VOX:

ᰔ never thinks about baking honestly.

ᰔ he likes baked goods, but he just doesn’t see himself getting much out of making them.

ᰔ has all the ingredients available to him if he ever changes his mind tho.

ᰔ prefers things with dark chocolate or berries.

ᰔ and especially likes eating them with his daily cup(s) of coffee.

ᰔ if you like baking, you’ll have to invite him if you want him to join you.

ᰔ he’s not good nor bad at helping out, and will prefer if you take the lead for the majority of it.

ᰔ he will bring over the little extras or whatever you’re missing.

ᰔ and as you serve up, he’ll offer to make you a drink or something simple to go with it.

ᰔ if he has a crush on you, he’ll start including you in his little 'vees' snack grabs.

ᰔ and if you ever mention needing something but not being able to find it in town, he’ll secretly get velvette to special order it.

ᰔ if you end up getting into a relationship together, he’ll make sure you’re always stocked up, mostly on general ingredients, but especially any decor.

ᰔ likes buying you sprinkles or marshmallows and making you custom mixes.

VELVETTE:

ᰔ love, love, LOVES anything tangy, zesty, or citrusy.

ᰔ doesn’t bake though, and doesn’t know how to either.

ᰔ but not because she doesn’t want to.

ᰔ just because she never really has had to.

ᰔ she knows she can just hire someone to bake anything she's craving.

ᰔ only to later on realise that nothing anyone bakes will ever compare to what you make.

ᰔ if she ever has a craving, she’ll go straight to you.

ᰔ would also love to join you in your baking endeavours.

ᰔ if she has a crush on you, you’ll probably see an influx of messages from her describing the newest baked goods she’s tried or heard about.

ᰔ or she'll straight up just send you recipes.

ᰔ she’d also probably memorise your favourites, and find herself subconsciously looking for them whenever she goes shopping for herself.

ᰔ if you get into a relationship together, and especially when you move in together, i could see her indulging in baking as a pastime more.

VALENTINO:

ᰔ val knows he's not good at baking.

ᰔ but he loves doing it so much.

ᰔ and you can see how eager he is about it.

ᰔ so you're of course, super encouraging.

ᰔ truthfully, his baking isn’t that bad.

ᰔ i mean, he makes mistakes often.

ᰔ and things usually end up a bit burnt .

ᰔ but you can always eat around stuff.

ᰔ likes a big range of baked goods and flavours.

ᰔ but especially likes eating whatever you make for him.

ᰔ he might ask you for help to make sure nothing goes wrong.

ᰔ you’ll figure out quickly that’s he’s actually got a lot of good ideas.

ᰔ if he has a crush on you, he’ll start recommending you his favourite recipes.

ᰔ he’ll also ask you for help more often.

ᰔ if possible, he hopes that you’ll be able to make something together.

ᰔ and of course you do.

ᰔ if you do get into a relationship, he'll keep baking.

ᰔ he knows he's getting better and might get all cocky about it with everyone else.

ᰔ but behind close doors, he kisses you as he states that he owes it all to your help.

LUCIFER:

ᰔ actual closet baker.

ᰔ has a cute apron and matching utensils.

ᰔ wears it all the time.

ᰔ he's like- really good at baking bread.

ᰔ he'll make it all from scratch.

ᰔ he even has a few starters setup - uses it for his lunches.

ᰔ he gets so awkward whenever he tries to gift you one of his loaves.

ᰔ if you ever ask to bake with him, he'd accept, but only if you're at least good friends by this point.

ᰔ and he'd be a little hesitant about it too.

ᰔ if he has a crush on you, and you get past that initial shyness, will invite you to bake with him all the time.

ᰔ he's pretty dependable too!

ᰔ if there's anything you're unsure about, he'd be willing to teach you.

ᰔ he loves to put on your apron for you.

ᰔ if you're in a romantic relationship, will bake things for you all the time.

ᰔ totally the type to put pretty designs into what he bakes as well.

ᰔ he'll write "i love you" in a cake you're working on together while you're not looking.

[weasleyreidstyles]

Serendipity

chapter three

summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.

no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. All characters are aged up to be over 18.

pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader

warning(s): cannonical violence, mentions of dark magic and torture

series masterlist; previous part; next part

Over the next few weeks, you and Riddle met up in one of the abandoned Astronomy classrooms to practice your lessons, and the library where you really did attempt to tutor him in Ancient Runes, with little to no luck. He was hopeless at the subject.

You were not friends by any means. You were like oil and water, not willing to step over the line that separated friend from foe. He was infuriating as ever, and he seemed to find your incessant need for asking questions entirely incorrigible. But you'd both come to an understanding: this was a necessary sacrifice for the greater good of your mutual friends. It needed to be done.

Your own friends were starting to question the hours you spent with him and it was becoming increasingly more difficult to lie when Harry spent every spare waking hour, that wasn't spent in school or on the Quidditch pitch, scanning the Marauder's Map.

In this particular session, Riddle had bombarded your thoughts with so much information and strain that you thought you'd pass out from exhaustion at any second.

"You're unfocused." he stated, unamused as he watched your hazed expression.

"You've been hounding me, for hours. I'm tired Riddle. Give me a break." you mumbled, voice low and resentful.

No. It's only been fifteen minutes. Due to your lack of focus, the burning sensation had come back at full force, causing you to stumble into the desk behind you.

He tutted, as he wrapped a strong arm around your waist to support you from injury, knowing Theo would probably maim him if something happened to you. When his hands retreated, his touch left a tingling sensation in its wake.

"Fine. 20 minutes. But the hour's not up yet. We'll carry on afterwards." he sounded as irritated as he looked, which had become a common occurrence in these sessions, not helped by your sarcastic commentary whenever you had the strength to cause an argument with him.

You closed your eyes for what felt like seconds, but it must've been for the duration of your 'break' because he woke you up with a forceful nudge.

"Breaks over. Now block me out like I showed you. We both know you're capable, prove to me that this wasn't a massive waste of time."

The burning sensation was back once again but it was duller than before, more manageable.

Ron saving the most goals he'd ever saved in one singular match.

Trying to teach Riddle a simple Rune pattern.

Hermione running out of the Gryffindor common room, tears streaming down her face.

Lavender Brown snogging your best friend.

You successfully locked your thoughts away, securing the lid of the 'box' with a mental thud, watching as the distinct orb of energy you'd recognised as Riddle's magical core, floated to a standstill in your mind.

"Good." he says, his face impassive. "Again."

He enters your mind with more vigour, but you're prepared this time, focusing your energy on keeping the ball of his magic confined to one area of your mind, to stop him unlocking all your thoughts.

What he didn't know was that you'd been reading up on Occlimency in any spare time you had to yourself, which was slim. You focused all your attention on that bright silver orb in your mind and pushed back with as much strength as you could muster. Startled, Riddle's shields fell momentarily.

You found yourself watching him from an outsider's perspective. You were in his home, the Riddle mannor, which gave off an air of stale coldness. Like death itself had taken up residence there. Then you heard it. The low hissing of a snake, Nagini – the snake that had attacked Arthur Weasley just over a year ago.

You watched as she glided past you, towards the shadow of a figure you were too afraid to face.

"My son." Voldemort says, in a creepy sort of drawl. "Have you done as I requested?"

You watched as Riddle, cold and indifferent as always, sucked in a breath before he stared his father in the face. Wordlessly he let the double doors behind him open, letting Malfoy and Berkshire stumble into the room, eyes flickering nervously.

"Yes father." he sounded resentful. And you caught the glance he shared with his two friends. He looked remorseful and almost...sad.

"And what of Master Nott? Master Zabini?" you saw Riddle's facade fall for only a moment, then watched as his shields slipped as he cradled the back of his head with a barely contained wince. Voldemort was in his head.

"Very interesting, my son." Voldemort hissed, eyes narrowed on the boy, who looked entirely too small under his father's watchful glare. "This must be remedied. Perhaps a little punishment will remind you of your place."

Then you watched as a father cast an unforgivable on his only living heir.

You were forced out of his mind with a push similar to what you had done to him, and when you cast your eyes onto his, you found twin obsidian irises...glaring at you.

"Satisfied?" he snarled, stalking towards you, backing you against the wall of the classroom. "Do you feel accomplished, sweetheart?"

The way his fists clashed with the wall on either side of your head prevented you from interpreting this new nickname. You stared up at him, shock and apprehension painting your features.

His eyes, once a cool, calming brown were like deep, black holes, narrowed on your expression. It scared you, rendered you speechless.

You should be scared, sweetheart. I didn't give you permission to do that. Gods, even the voice in your head was frightening. He was menacing.

He seemed to break out of his staring trance and shook his head slightly, as if this was an outer body experience for him. He looked surprised at being so close to you; you swore his eyes trailed from your own to your lips, but it must've been a nasty trick of the light, to dissuade you from this crazed persona he suddenly harboured.

He sighed as he pushed off the wall and without a word, he left. Once again leaving you standing alone in a dark, empty room.

~∞~

The first Hogsmeade trip of the year is always a fun affair. You remember the very first time you stepped out of the carriage onto the cobblestone streets of the town with Ron and Hermione during your third year. And just like that first time, it was magical every year.

This year seemed extra special. Snow was falling heavily from the bright white sky and the third years were having fun throwing snowballs at each other. You were bundled up in warm clothes: hat, scarf, gloves and giant coat, in hopes of not having your limbs freeze.

"I am begging you," you mumble to the Golden trio, who walked beside you, "can we please go to the Three Broomsticks? I'm in need of a Butterbeer. Or better yet, a hot chocolate. I'm so fucking cold."

Ron only laughed at you while you shivered; they all agreed before he yelped and began hastily running away when he realised his detrimental mistake.

The idiot had dumped a load of snow on your head.

"RONALD!" you scream, but it's drowned out by your own laughter, along with Harry and Hermione's, the latter of which hadn't laughed much recently. "I'll get you for that you wanker!"

Your friends had seldom had time to have a proper laugh this year. Each busy with their own endeavours: Ron with his new girlfriend Lavender; Harry with Slughorn, under Dumbledore's ample instruction and Hermione, who was putting all her effort into avoiding the former and trying to persuade Harry to get rid of his potions book (which had given him a fast track to top of the class). It was a wonder that you'd convinced them to come along.

When you entered the pub, sodden and cold from the barrage of snow that Ron had unleashed on you, the warmth of Madame Rosmerta's heating charms caressed you like a tight hug. Unwrapping your scarf from your shoulders and removing your coat, gloves and hat, you slumped into the cushioned seat of a nearby empty table, not taking into account the surrounding occupants.

Riddle was sat among his friends, watching you. He'd been doing that more since he walked out on you a week ago. He didn't turn up to your next session a few days afterwards, and when he didn't show earlier that day, you walked out of the room, incredibly annoyed. But you weren't about to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he was beginning to affect you.

As you sat side on at the table, with Ron facing his back to them, you saw how, despite his guard being held up extremely well, he huffed a laugh when Enzo said something entirely unfunny and rolled his eyes when Theo said something dramatic. You also saw how his jaw visibly clenched when Pansy was talking about the recent boyfriend who ended up being a complete dick. You wouldn't be surpised to find the boy beaten to a bloody pulp later.

You paid attention to your friends when Harry dropped a steaming cup of hot chocolate in front of you.

"You truly are a life saver, oh Chosen One." you tease as he takes the seat opposite you.

"Piss off." he mumbles, but the smirk on his face tells you that he's not annoyed.

"I feel like we haven't spoke in ages." you say to your friends, who despite all being happy to see you, look like they'd rather be anywhere else. "How's being Captain treating you, Harold?"

As you let your friend mumble on about the stresses of looking after a group of rowdy quidditch players, you can't help the feeling that something terrible was going to happen.

~∞~

An hour or so later, the four of you were wandering down an icy path back up towards the carriages that would take you to the castle, the only other people around were Katie Bell and her friend Leanne, who seemed to be immersed in an argument that you paid little attention to.

Hermione was arguing with Harry about his potions book again when the air around you went eerily still. Then you felt it, this strange feeling. It was magic, you'd recognise the feeling from anywhere, but this was different, it felt entirely too dark.

When the four of you rounded the corner of the lane, that feeling grew inexplicably. Leanne had tried to grab a brown paper package from Katie's grasp but the latter had tugged it back, causing whatever contents inside to fall to the ground. That eery feeling seemed to increase tenfold and you staggered to a holt as Katie Bell was hoisted into the air by an invisible force.

The sight was harrowing. She was six feet in the air by the time you'd raced to where Leanne was panicking. The package appeared to be an antique opal necklace, and it was omitting a deadly magical signature. It was without a doubt, cursed.

Harry went to touch it, but you rapidly grabbed his arm. "Don't. It's been cursed."

He looked at you incredulously but at that moment, poor Katie, who's hair was whipping wildly in her expressionless face, let out a gut renching, terrifying scream.

It seemed that Riddle and his friends rounded the corner at that moment; Theo and Pansy running to stand beside you, faces matching your own. Katie was still screaming when Riddle went to examine the necklace.

"It's been cursed." he mumbled to himself.

"We've already established that, Riddle." you mutter, glaring at him. He ignored you. "We can't deal with this ourselves. We need a teacher."

He seemed to agree with you as he sent Enzo and Zabini running back to the pub in search of someone, anyone. In the meantime, Katie seemed to be losing height and was getting lower to the ground, although she was still writhing uncontrollably. Mattheo, Theo and Ron managed to gently lower her body to the ground and you immediately went to check her over, until she began thrashing and screaming again, knocking away your approaching hand, sending an excruciating sensation up your forearm.

You winced, but only Riddle seemed to notice.

Enzo and Zabini came sprinting up the lane at that moment, Hagrid following hastily behind them.

"Get back!" the gamekeeper yelled, prompting you to all back away from Katie.

Leanne was a mess, sobbing as she tried to explain to Hagrid but he seemed to hear none of it as he stared down at the writhing girl for a moment. Without a word, he scooped her into his arms and began to run back up to the castle with her, carrying her piercing screams with him.

Hermione and Pansy immediately went to Leanne's aid, but you didn't move from your spot on the floor, staring at your arm, that was still burning.

Someone knelt in front of you, and expecting Theo, you looked up, startled to find Riddle, staring at you.

You looked away from him, but he cupped your chin with his fingers to bring your gaze to his.

"Are you alright?" he asked quietly, a curious look on his face, and underlines of worry were there too. But you only had one concern.

"Why could I feel the dark magic in that necklace? And why did she burn me and not any of you?" you asked timidly. You appeared to be shaking, from the adrenaline or the cold, you were none the wiser.

"I'm not sure, but we'll figure it out." he assured, he looked as confused as you felt.

"How?" you snapped. "You haven't shown up for the past week, Riddle."

He sighed as if annoyed before he did something you didn't know he was caple of.

"I'm sorry, okay. You caught me off guard, and I panicked. I'm sorry, sweetheart."

"Did you just apologise to me, Mattheo?" a slow smile began to graze your face.

"Tell anyone and I'll make you regret it." he muttered, but his brown eyes carried mirth as he stared at you.

You were about to reply when you saw Ron in the corner of your eye crounching bu the antique necklace.

"Don't touch it, Ron!" you said, jumping up, bursting the bubble that you and Riddle had created. Your friend startled and moved away from the necklace.

"I've seen it before." Harry mumbled and you watched as Riddle and all his friends tensed, it was a wonder that none of the boys you were with started throwing insults towards eachother. "On display in Borgin and Burkes ages ago. The label said it was cursed, Katie must've touched it."

Theo scoffed, which seemed to remind the trio that the Slytherins were still there.

"Something to say, Nott?" Ron snapped.

"Anyone with a brain can see that it was cursed, Weasley. But you still went to touch it. Thank Salazar for Meadow." Theo rebutted and you had half the mind to stand between the two of them to stop the fight, but you felt lightheaded. You needed to sit down, or maybe sleep for a week.

You grabbed hold of the closest thing for stability: Riddle's stupidly strong arm. He startled but said nothing as he held you up, hands cradling your forearms.

What's wrong? His voice was a soft caress.

I feel like I might pass out. My arm is burning.

Did you touch the necklace?

I think I'd be halfway in the air if I did, Mattheo.

He looks concerned.

I'm taking you to Madame Promfrey. Take the necklace too.

He seems to say something to Theo, who interrupts a sobbing Leanne in favour of levitating the necklace away.

"We'll take this to Madame Pomfrey." he says and at Hermione's troubled look, he reassures her. "Meadow's with us. She'll make sure it gets there Granger."

With that, you're guided away by the Slytherin prince and all his friends, but it all feels like a fever dream.

~∞~

the change in nickname🫢

and Meadow called him Mattheo instead of Riddle🤭

gonna start a taglist too, as its been requested so comment if you want to be added xxx

taglist:

@camille-1019 @lovelyygirl8

[yumiis]

ive had this idea for a while but idk if you have already done it (if you have please tag me) but like them being lovesick? like they are so in love with you, ive have literally seen ZERO of this. please and thank you!!!

YUP I LOVED WRITING THIS bc i myself get lovesick so EASILY so this came super easy to me

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。 sick for you ; blake, tanner, isaac

　 ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

genre; fluff

type; headcanons

read below!

BLAKE ;

Definitely keeps it to himself, doesn't let anyone else know he's feeling the way he's feeling.

The only one that would know he's feeling lovesick would probably be Isaac. Only because Isaac catches on to the small things really easily.

Isaac catches all Blake's little glances at you, he notices when his face goes red when you're mentioned.

As for how Blake feels when lovesick, he's super confined to his own brain and tries not to hang around you a whole lot, because he's scared he'll reveal himself and how he feels.

When he has to be around you though, he's always red in the face and trying to make small conversation with you.

Whether the conversation is awkward or not, he loves every time he talks to you, because he's getting somewhere.

He likes to buy you little gifts, just because. Y'know, he's in love with you. He takes note of stuff you like, because he wants to show he cares.

When he finally asks you out, or more so whenever Isaac told him to ask you out, and you say yes, he just pulls you in for the tightest hug ever.

TANNER ;

Oh my god he's such a fool when he's lovesick. He's the kind to feel physically sick when he's crushing on someone, because it hits him HARD.

Always feels giddy and happy around you, so he makes it a point to hang out with you when he can.

He's always cracking his best jokes around you to try and make you laugh, because when he hears you laugh it makes him so unbelievably happy.

Definitely the type to leave notes around you and label them as "-ur secret admirer <3" but he alters his handwriting so you don't actually know who it was.

The type to make jokes like "What if.. What if we held hands? Ahaha, only joking!" He is not joking.

He makes it so obvious, but you'd never tell him it was obvious, it'd break his heart.

After about a year of these shenanigans, he finally builds up the courage to ask you out. When you say yes, he has to stop himself from just jumping on you and kissing you.

ISAAC ;

He's subtle, but he's also not.. not subtle.

He likes to crack jokes like Tanner, "Hey, Y/n, how funny would it be if we dated?" "What?" "Nothing."

The only one to actively seek you out; he actually calls you and texts you daily. He isn't afraid of being straightforward!

He always texts you to see if you're down to hang out, and if you say yes, he feels physically sick all day.

Absolutely loves being around you, but it also makes him feel like he's gonna vomit.

That feeling doesn't stop until you guys are actually dating.

Him and Tanner are pretty similar, aside from the fact that Isaac actually makes moves.

He peppers in some pet names that could kind of be passed off as platonic, but his heart could burst when you smile at the fact of him calling you 'dear'.

When he finally asks you out, and you say yes, he could fall to his knees right then and there.

[ghost-proofbaby]

kissing lessons, pt. 2

summary: you and robin face the music that maybe the kissing lessons aren't just lessons after all.

pairing: robin buckley x fem!reader

warnings: even more sapphic yearning than the first one (in my opinion), lots of religious imagery scattered sporadically, and a lots of hints/passing mentions of homophobia (no talk of violence, etc.) that was normal in the 80s. there's even more discussion of reader conforming to the usual and dating a boy. once again, reader is explicitly female.

wc: 3.3k+

a/n: i cannot explain how healing writing this has been. shout out to younger me for surviving the way my own experience ended with a lot more heartbreak - you deserved a robin buckley, baby ghost. and thank you to everyone who read the first one and was so very kind. i am eternally grateful <3

part 1 here

It was your own damn fault, probably. 

Robin may have been the one to ignite the fire, so prettily asking to start having those godforsaken kissing lessons, but you’d be the one clutching a bottle of gasoline. You’d been the one fanning the flames with each arrangement you’d insist upon, Saturday after Saturday always being spent one predictable way: kissing your best friend. 

In your bedroom, in her living room, behind the slide at the park. 

Mid-afternoon, early mornings, in the dead of night. 

Any time that you can find an excuse for it, your lips were attached to Robin Buckley’s, chipping away at your own demise, and it was all your fault. 

There wasn’t a handbook for this, though. There was no pamphlet to explain all the butterflies that would erupt in your stomach every time she’d smile at you slyly just before she’d lean it to initiate the kisses, no how-to for stopping the shake in your hands as you’d cradle thighs and cheeks alike as if they were the most sacred of sacrifices, no survival guide for all the heartache that now haunts your every waking moment when you think about the smell of her perfume. You had no one who could explain away your obsession with the taste of passion fruit lip smackers these days. 

You were in love with your best friend, and it sort of felt like some type of terrible shipwreck done by your own recklessness. 

And if she felt even an ounce of the same way, you couldn’t see it. You simply couldn’t allow yourself to read any further into the brushes of her hand in the hallways that had grown more consistent. If you daydreamed too long about the way she’d been so overly supportive of you wearing skirts to school more often these days, you’d quite possibly self-implode. It was all a dangerous game, a hopeless drowning in the middle of the Atlantic, and you were just letting it happen. 

“Why was that Connor guy talking to you in the hall today?”

And if you read too much into what you so desperately wanted to describe as jealousy in her tone right now, you’d certainly combust in the blink of an eye. 

It wasn’t even a Saturday – it was a Friday. Saturdays were the holy days, the days in which you could guarantee you’d taste her all over your tongue and be allowed to gather all your offerings in the form of worshiping whispers and guiding movements as she straddled your lap. The rest of the week, the two of you were nothing more than the best of friends. On Fridays, you should be nothing but two girls who find innocent and platonic solace in one another. 

It’s just hard to do when all you’re capable of thinking about is how soft the skin of her neck was nearly a week ago, when your lips had trailed down to her pulse point in such feathery light brushes. 

“Oh!” you sit up from where you’d been spread out on her bed, looking up at her with sudden excitement as you watch her spin in her desk chair, “I forgot to tell you! Holy shit, you’re going to love this.” 

The moment it had happened, you’d started mentally counting down the moments until you’d have the chance to tell Robin of the awkward conversation. You can’t believe you’d forgotten about it so easily once you’d gotten the girl alone. 

She pauses her spinning immediately, blinking rapidly as she was clearly dizzy, “What do you mean? Why am I going to love it?” 

“He asked me out to milkshakes.”

You wait. And wait. And wait. Nearly quaking with all the anticipation for your best friend to burst out into laughter with you over the irony of it all. 

You just keep waiting. 

The laughter never escapes Robin, her face stoic as she doesn’t even smile. All the giggles and rolling of eyes you’d expected to share is completely erased with that look on her face currently. A look you almost mistake as hurt, a look that reaches far beyond jealousy.

The look of someone standing amongst the wreckage of an abandoned ship. 

When she finally speaks again, with deflated shoulders and the corners of her mouth down-turned, it’s soft enough you almost miss it. “Did you say yes?” 

It was the one question you hadn’t been expecting – you’d assumed it had been a given that you’d turn the poor boy down. 

“Obviously not,” you snort, uneasy as you rifle through your mind, a sudden desperation to make Robin smile or to lighten the mood immediately rearing its head. 

“Obviously?” 

This conversation is very much not going the way you had seen it play out in your head. Robin’s missing all of her lines, none of her expressions lining with the directorial vision you’d been gifted with when the moment had happened. 

No saccharine laughter, no sweet joy. None of the sugared reactions are rotting your teeth out. 

Instead, there’s just a strange and hollow ache. The vacant expression of Robin’s face that twitches ever so slightly with something more below the surface, and a tension in the air that wraps around your throat tightly. 

“Yeah, I mean,” you choke out, trying to stave off your discomfort, “We both know how I feel about milkshake dates. And besides, he wanted to go tomorrow, and we already have plans-”

“You could’ve said yes,” she blurts out. As soon as the words fall in the space between you two, she’s wide-eyed, staring at you like a scared deer caught up in your headlights, “Our plans- They-” she pauses, and takes a deep breath that almost looks painful, “You could have said yes if you wanted to. I’d live. Plus, it’d give you a chance to put our lessons to use.” 

No sweetness, only a sour on your tongue that makes your face twist. “Why would I use our lessons on Connor from pottery?” 

Why would I ever want to kiss somebody that isn’t you? 

The thought easily makes you sick to your stomach. The lips of someone who isn’t Robin Buckley pressed to yours, the hands of someone who isn’t your best friend tracing the curves of your body. You think you’d rather die. 

“I dunno,” Robin is mumbling now, almost looking ashamed. The last thing you’d wanted to do was shame her. You’d just wanted to share a laugh with your best friend, “That was sort of the point, right? You wanted to get good at kissing-”

“We,” you correct her.

“What?”

“We wanted to get good at kissing. You can’t tell me there’s no boys in the band that have asked you out or you’d have a chance to kiss. You’re…” Even as the words are ash in your mouth, sticking to the roof of your mouth and making it hard to breathe, you force it all out. The only words left are the truth, anyways, “Beautiful, Robs. You’re fucking stunning, and funny, and so kind. Who’s your Connor from poetry, hm?” 

It’s a dagger to the heart. It’s alcohol on a paper cut, salt in a throbbing wound. Every cliche and morbid pain in the books is racing through you at what you’ve just said. Asking her about boys is worse than simply accepting it as a hypothetical. Having to actually hear about boys chasing after the girl that’s occupied you irrevocably is worse than imagining them all. 

At least in your imagination, they could all be fumbling over their feet, falling to the dirt as Robin cackles and arrives straight to her original destination – you. At least in your imagination, you stand a chance. 

“God, no,” she scrunches her nose up, immediately standing from her chair, “Oh my God, no. Ew. I don’t- I’d never-” 

“You’d never?” you raise an eyebrow, watching as she nearly starts to pace. 

“We were talking about you!” she bursts out, arms flailing out beside her, spinning so she was stood right in front of you, “You and Colton-”

“Connor.”

“-and how you should go get milkshakes with him! You should’ve said yes, okay? You could say you have a boyfriend when you get to college if you’d said yes.” 

Boyfriend. A word that will never, ever leave your lips. Not just when it came to Connor – when it came to all the boys in your school. All the boys in your town. All the boys in the goddamn world. 

That word doesn’t fit. It’s too tight, too confining. Strangles you in all the wrong places and makes your chest constrict in the worst way. 

You don’t want a boyfriend. 

You want your best friend to stop pacing, you want your best friend to hold your hand, you want it to be Saturday and for your best friend to kiss your fucking face off.

Pathetic, only because you don’t think you’ll ever find the nerve to say it to her out loud. 

“Who cares if I have a boyfriend when I go to college?” you spit out, struggling to even say the damn word, “I could give two shits if I-”

“I care!” Robin is turning erratic, wild as she tugs at her hair and looks at you with such misplaced desperation. You don’t know what she wants from you – you can’t give her what she’s asking of you, “I care, because you deserve to have that normal experience. You should be out there, kissing boys and going on dates to share a milkshake and- and- and… not spending your Saturdays with me, hiding away and kissing me and sharing chapstick and making me feel all these stupid feelings-” 

She cuts off roughly, a small gasp leaving her lips as she realizes what she’s just said. 

Making me feel all these stupid feelings. 

“What do you mean by that?” you whisper, sharing at her, shocked, “What do you mean by stupid feelings-”

“Forget it.”

“No.” 

“Yes,” she pleads, taking a step back when you stand up in front of her, “Dear God, please forget I ever said that. I’m literally begging you.” 

Stupid feelings. 

What does she even define as stupid feelings? 

Is it that her heart races whenever you suggest another lesson? Is it that warmth that spreads head to toe every time you grab her hand casually? Is it all that pain with nowhere to go at the end of the day, when you bury your face in a pillow and scream out all the what-ifs you assume you’ll never explore in this lifetime? 

You think about your parents. The ones who are never home, or are oblivious in the kitchen as you shut your door and quickly return to your bed, where your best friend is awaiting you eagerly just to get her tongue down your throat. You think of Robin’s parents, who force her to go to church every Sunday, never realizing she can still taste the strawberry chapstick all over her lips come morning. Whispering all their prayers in the same tone she’d whispered your name the night before. You think about all the peers your age who spend their Saturday nights in diners, sharing milkshakes and planning their futures – their normal futures. 

White picket fence, a mid-size dog to run around the yard. Two and a half kids, and a wedding ring gleaming on the finger on their left hand directly connected to their heart. The same one that Robin always fiddles with while the two of you sit and do homework together, the same one Robin once slipped an old coin-machine ring onto as a joke when you were thirteen, cackling about some sort of marriage pact that had every adult in vicinity glaring at the two of you. 

All the things you can’t dream about. Because when you do, it’s never the nice boy your father points out at the grocery store. It’s never that boy your mother finds absolutely darling, who lives two houses down and has offered to mow your lawn numerous times. 

Every time you try to picture it, it’s with Robin. 

Her with a matching ring you’ve bought for a quarter, her lipstick staining the matching mug on your kitchen counter during a quiet morning. Kids with her freckles, kids with all her spunk. A dog she’d name something incredibly niche, and that you’d fight her on endlessly, but end up giving in simply because you love her. 

Whenever you try to look to the future, it’s with the girl before you, who has tears gathering in her lash line now. Embarrassment painting every inch of her exposed skin, and her chest stuttering with every gasping breath. 

Stupid feelings. You’d become entirely acquainted with stupid feelings, you just hadn’t realized that Robin had as well. 

“What do you mean by that, Robs?” your voice cracks, begging all but on your knees at this moment. Everything you could possibly want right in an arm’s reach. 

You don’t even need the picket fence or the dog. Kids could vanish right from the dream. The house could become a quaint apartment in the city. The morning coffee could be traded for peppermint tea. As long as the thing that never changes is her, you don’t really care where the visions lead. 

She says your name so softly, you nearly break down entirely. You want to hear it for the rest of your days. The way the shape of your name curls around her tongue and falls from her lips, “You should just forget I said anything, I mean it. Go home and call Connor-”

“Fuck Connor!” you suddenly raise your voice, so entirely done with all the boy talk. All the expectations and all the definitions of normal. Your finger on your left hand, connected directly to your heart, throbs. “I don’t want to share some half-melted milkshake with that… with that… idiot! I want to share it with the idiot in front of me right now. I don’t want to practice kissing on him, I want to practice with you. I don’t want him, and I don’t want that boy who bags groceries at Melvald’s, and I don’t-” 

Robin Buckley is the brave one. She shuts you up about all the ones you don’t want, by giving you the one thing you do want. 

Soft palms, soft lips. Gentle hesitation to soothe the scars of a future you never really cared for. Fruity lip balm that somehow perfectly matches airy perfume. 

She’s kissing you like her life depends on it. Like she’s feeling an ache in the joints of that finger connected to the heart, and she just can’t take it anymore. Like she loves you. Or at least likes you. 

And you’ll take what you can get when you reach up to grab onto her anywhere you can find. Bunching her shirt at her hip with your first, fingers curling around her forearm that’s connected to the hand cradling your cheek. You can’t possibly lean into it all enough; can’t press your lips any tighter against hers, can’t have any more of your limbs bumping into hers as you stumble backwards and onto her bed. 

She’s crawling over you, little puffs of breaths escaping between kisses, hovering above you with a halo of sunlight leaking in through her bedroom window. 

She looks like a God you don’t believe in, and one she can’t be spoon-fed to worship anymore. All holier notions are focused on you. Fingers trailing their way up under your shirt and hips bumping against yours as you both try to learn what to do with this new position. 

It’s better than your best friend seated in your lap, timidly moving her tongue. It’s nicer. 

“Stupid feelings,” you breathe out when she moves to pepper kisses on your cheek, on your jaw, on your neck, “Stupid fucking feelings.” 

“Sometimes, I wish we’d never started the lessons, you know?” she whispers when she pauses at your collarbone, peering up at you with those glossy blue eyes. Oceans deep, ready for your ship to roll right into. Ready for your ship to crash in. “It made all of this so much harder and complicated.” 

Your fingers slide into her hair, tugging at the sporadic pieces that you’d helped cut a year ago. The saddest excuse for layers ever, “Made what harder?” 

You want to hear her say it. You need to hear her say it. 

“Liking you.”

If hearts could burst, yours would be fluttering shreds behind your ribs. Nothing more than the aftermath of finally, finally, hearing those words fall from her lips. 

“You like me?” your cheeks ache immediately from your grin, so wide it occupies your entire face. You swear you can see its reflection in her eyes. 

Her head lifts and you see some of the fear still lingering behind her own smile, “Yeah, doofus. I like you. A lot, actually. And I just always assumed you liked that Cooper boy-”

“His name is Connor.”

“I know,” she laughs, face contorting as she bites back more giggles. It’s no use though, as her head falls forward and her forehead lands on the center of your chest, “I just- God, I sort of hated him. I heard him ask you out for the milkshake and I just wanted to punch the dude-”

“You heard?” you’re laughing now, head thrown back, “I’m sorry, you knew why I was talking to him, and you still tried to play all coy and ask me?” 

“Can you blame a girl for trying?” 

No. No, you really couldn’t. You can only imagine the ridiculous plans you’d elaborately conjure if you’d ever overheard a boy asking Robin out on a date. All the jealousy ploys and childish schemes, born out of all the sunshine she’s been instilling in you since the first day you’d met her. 

And imagining that is fine. But what you no longer have to imagine is a Robin who chooses you, the scenario in which you can simply grab her and kiss her until you’ve run out of breaths and your lungs have shriveled into nothing more than feathers in your chest. 

So you do. 

You tug her back up to you and kiss her, far more languid than she’d initially kissed you. The slow movements of lips with all the time in the world. The steady movements of hands that belong as you run them over her shoulders and down her back, bring them to those hips you’d been adoring every Saturday. 

You kiss Robin Buckley on a Friday, simply because you can. 

Nice, your mind rings out. Nice, nice, nice. 

This was nice – this was right. None of that discomfort at the thought of letting Connor kiss you, no strangulation at the word boyfriend. You feel like you can breathe for the first time in your life as you kiss your best friend serenely and let all of that love seep out of your skin when it presses to hers. In the background of it all, a new word forms, a soft blanket of comfort rather than something to wrap around your throat. 

Girlfriend.

Now that? That sounds nice. 

“Hey,” Robin says when she pulls back slowly, tip of her nose still bumping yours, the weight of her still between your thighs, “Do you want to…. I don’t know, go get a milkshake with me or something?” 

You don’t think about either of your parents, or any of the self-righteous vipers who might be prowling the town on a Friday night. You know it won’t be the same as going to the diner with a nice boy – you know you won’t be able to kiss her on the street or cuddle up quite as obviously, keep her quite as close as you so desperately ached to, but it was okay. 

It was enough. For now. 

“Only if we can get strawberry,” you quip, unable to help yourself as you lean up for another brief peck. 

The peck isn’t enough. You don’t think any amount of Robin’s treacly kisses would ever be enough. You’d probably spend an entire lifetime just trying to get your fill. 

“Deal,” she rasps, clearly sharing the sentiment as she leans back down, kissing you right back. Eager lips not quite satisfied. 

There would be no screaming or crying into pillows tonight. 

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[mockerycrow]

super big congratulations on 4k!! you deserve it <3

i was wondering if you could write a gn! reader x price with the prompt "Hey, it's okay, I got you. You're alright, you're okay." it doesn't matter if it's platonic or romantic; whatever feels best for you!!

Thank you so much and congratulations!

YOU’RE ALIVE (Price x GN!Reader) — 4K CELEBRATION

[WARNINGS; Car accident, implied situationship w/ Price, moderate injuries, flashbacks, near panic attack, open ending.]

YOU DON’T REMEMBER the events that lead up to you in a hospital bed, a cast fitted around your arm, a brace on your knee, a bandage around your skull, and only God knows how many stitches and bandages in random assortments. You can’t forget the numeral wires and tubes attached to you, too. Oh, and the ear-bleeding beeping. John sits next to you in a chair—he’s your… friend, of sorts. You aren’t really sure what to call what you two have going on.

You look at him, slumped in the visitors chair he’s pulled up beside your bed, his arms crossed and his legs spread; his neck is bent at an awkward angle and you know it’s going to ache whenever he awakens. John looks quite tired—he’s looked tired and stressed the entire time he’s been in the hospital room with you. Stressing over you, like a worried hu—…. you shouldn’t think about that. Suddenly the ceiling looks far more appealing to stare at, rather than the beautiful gentleman who is willingly staying at your bedside, despite your exhausted attempts to have him get some proper rest.

You glance over at him—envious of how he’s able to sleep right now. Hm. Honestly, you know John would be awake with you if he had the energy. The only reason why you’re awake is your stitches itch, and the only reason why he’s asleep is because you did not wake up for four days after you passed out at the scene of a car accident you were apparently in; an accident you don’t remember too well. You barely even remember what you had for breakfast that morning; cereal of some kind, maybe? Eggs? You don’t know.

“You were on the way to work, love.” You remember John telling you. You remember the tense expression, the firmness of his eyebrows. The frown of his lip, the way he amusingly resembled a quokka in the moment. You were also apparently on the phone with John at the same time, so whatever happened, he heard all of it. The details from your own memory are fuzzy—your doctors concluded your amnesia is temporary, so they gave you the choice of remembering it yourself or having them tell you. You opted in for the first option.

It was coming back to you in bits and pieces. Small moments where you feel the hairs on the back of your neck standing up, you think you hear glass shattering in the distance; your heart begins to race at different moments. You aren’t sure what to make of it—until now.

“I’m not excited for this meeting.” You whined, your eyes were glued to the road. Your phone is bluetooth connected to your car’s system so you can talk with John and have both of your hands on the wheel. “I’m sure it’ll be fine, honey. Surely it’s just about budgets like last month.” John hums through the speakers of your car. You sigh, turning on your windshield wipers as it’s pouring out, obscuring your vision a bit.

“It’s raining pretty hard, how do the roads look?” He asks, a bit of rustling coming from John’s end. He’s probably reading a book or looking out from the curtains. “I’m driving slower than normal, visibility isn’t the greatest..” You admit, letting out a breath, slowing the car down once again. “..I was sliding a bit, thinking it’s time I get some new wheels.” John hums in agreement. “Definitely. Please be safe, love.” You chuckled glancing around the road, furrowing your eyebrows when the double yellow line seems to fade. “I’m trying my best, Jo—“

You’re suddenly being jostled around violently after a big impact from your front, your seatbelt digging into your skin as something launches your car off to the side. “SHIT—“ You scream, attempting to stop the car, but the rain causes you to slide across the road. Something hits you from the back and you feel you physically feel yourself lift in your seat—and then you’re fading in and out. You wake up with wetness against your face, pain in your ribs, your arm, your skull—

You let out a choked sob as there’s ringing in your ears and your eyes refuse to focus—but you can tell you’re upside down. You see a pair of legs sprinting towards you through your broken side window, and you aren’t really register what’s happening. You blink and the person is try to pry the door open frantically. You still don’t hear them; it’s almost like a silent movie.

The door gives, the flipped car jostling from the force used to pry it open. You blink and fuck—It’s John. His eyes are wide and his jaw is tense, shaky hands. He’s grabbing the sides of your head, forcing you to keep your head still—his lips are moving but you can’t hear him. You sob and you try to reach up to touch him, and he lets you. Your eyes look at your own hand as it’s caked in your own blood, causing you to inhale shakily. This isn’t happening. The pain starts sitting you harder, a pulsing in the side of your head.

“Hey—“ John’s voice suddenly cuts through and you blink, and you’re back in the hospital room. You’re breathing hard and fast, causing your chest to ache more than it already does. His hands are cupping your cheeks like he was in the flipped car, and you let out a panicked sob; your machines make loud beeping noises in retaliation. “Hey, it’s okay, I got you. You’re alright, you’re okay..” John quickly murmurs, his thumbs gently wiping your tears away. “Focus on my voice, okay? You’re alright. You’re in the hospital, love.”

You sniffle and nod, shakily inhaling once again as you try to calm your panicked lungs and struggling heart, your good hand coming up and gently grasping his wrist. “I-I was flipped over—“ You choke out, which John quickly meets with soft shushing and a kiss between your eyebrows. “I know, honey. I know. I got you, you’re safe now.” You nod, choking out another whimper as you lean into his touch—because John’s right. He has you; you’re safe, he’s the one who got to you first. You’re sure you’ll want to ask him how he found you so fast later, but all you want to do right now and feel him and hear him. Because you’re alive.

[thejujvtsupost]

Hello, I am a first timer here. I would like to humbly request something. Can I please request for a Platonic Nanami and adopted daughter reader. The reader is not used to a normal environment and they are used to fighting and surviving

Girl Dad Transformation

I’ve been stewing over this so hard bc it’s been giving me the cutest ideas!!!! And ofc Yuuji is so big brother coded here.

Notes: F!reader, brotherly!Yuuji, Nanami and his adopted daughter 🥺. That’s it.

Nanami didn’t think about the long term impact of adopting the orphaned sorcerer. Surely he wouldn’t change that much…

All he knew was there was a 5 year old girl clutching her only toy- a stuffed bear, who could see ‘scary monsters’ and no longer had any family, thanks to the curse that was tormenting humans for fun; he was just a little too late.

The poor thing was terrified. In the blink of an eye his hand was seized by a freezing, much smaller one with a death grip.

Nanami got you looked at by Shoko and you refused to let go of him the entire time. By the looks of it, you were malnourished and you frequently got injured from curses. Your home life was fairly unstable too, financial issues and absent-detached parents. Shoko got a lot more information from you than he ever expected, piecing together some of your history from your seemingly unrelated answers, as children do.

“She’s going to have to stay for observation, probably several weeks until we can get her healthy enough. She’s going to need a special diet too, I haven’t seen a case this bad in a long time and she’s too young for cursed energy.”

His heart was crushed for you, when was the last time you had somewhere stable? “Why are you telling me?”

“You found her, she’s clearly attached to you and you know you can’t turn away now. You look at her like she’s Itadori. It’s just until I can find a place for her at a home or foster.” Shoko never fails with her dead pan demeanor and sass.

She was also right.

He looked back at you, you were passed out in your hospital bed covered by several blankets and hugging your bear. Finally, you were warming up. Finding you a home could take months if you went to a foster or orphanage… “Don’t bother,” he swallowed thickly, “I will adopt her.”

Shoko’s face softened further, “You can’t go back on it, you already earned her trust. If you’re really sure then I think this will be good for both of you.”

He did his best to be at your bedside when he could, and you were quiet but clearly in need of comfort. Your favorite thing to do was have him read to you with cartoons on a low volume in the background. “Nami, book?” Nanami picked up a book off the stack Shoko brought and started reading. No complaints, and after the first few days he didn’t bother hiding his smile anymore.

He spent a fortune on converting his spare bedroom into yours. He didn’t even know what 5 year olds liked, but according to the first years and Shoko, he needed to make sure you had various toys (he bought everything Yuuji pointed out to him- Yuuji definitely went overboard but Nanami didn’t stop him), clothes and of course you’d need signed up for school.

When the adoption was final and he brought you home for the first time, he was thoroughly instructed how to parent by then, he was ready.

You… weren’t. Not yet. You didn’t know that your room was yours. All the toys and clothes, everything was yours. ‘Nami’ kept the ‘scary monsters’ away too…

“Hey it’s okay honey, I know it’s a big change.” He wiped the tears from your chubby cheeks and smiled softly. “You belong here, you’re safe now.”

A grown up was taking care of you, for good this time.

It was a journey every day but worth it as you came out of your shell, and he encouraged you with a gentle hand. Of course there were setbacks too. He wasn’t perfect, he definitely wasn’t good at laundry at first.

He was new to parenting and it was exhaustingly difficult to navigate yet he was completely whipped for you, never turning down a tea party or invitation to watch cartoons together. He became a complete girl dad overnight.

All it took was, “Nami! Play!” And he’d be on the floor in the living room playing with the doll you handed him.

You started eating more, even requesting different meals when he asked what you were in the mood to eat. “Nami, can we have soba?”

Nanami couldn’t say no to you. “Soba sounds great.” He’d have the softest smile on his face too.

You played more often, and eventually made friends! Yuuji claimed the title as your first friend but you were encouraged to make more- he helped you practice asking your classmates about themselves and how to invite them to play with you.

And Nanami… he never forced you to call him dad. He loved you more than he ever thought possible. He was always proud to call you his daughter, bragging about your excellent kindergarten grades and your recent achievement of becoming the line leader at school for the week.

But the first time you did happened a month in, while doing your bedtime routine and picking out a night night story. Instead of ‘Nami’ he was gifted: “Daddy, can you read the star book?” He let out a tear and hugged you tight.

Nanami tucked you in, kissed your forehead and sat on the edge of your bed, “Yeah honey, I’ll read you the star book.”

Thinking about making a request? Check my bio to see if they’re open and stay tuned <3

[writing-funsies]

OP characters as besties p.5

p.1 | p.2 | p.3 | p.4 | p.5

characters: Ace, Shanks, Mihawk

warnings: mentions of alcohol, light cussing

notes: all platonic hc's

Ace

will share his food with you

but won't let you take any off his plate

falls asleep on you all the time

uses you as his personal pillow

and will make fun of you if you freak out when riding with him on Striker

despite the fact that it's designed for only one person

but I digress

also uses you as a napkin if needed

sometimes shoots little flames at you to see your reaction

talks about Luffy nonstop

like that's the only thing he ever talks about

by the time you actually meet his little brother

you're ready to strangle both of them

not really

but you could spot the kid a mile away

before you ever actually got to know him

Ace and you working together to become more confident

always teasing each other

you having to fish him out of the ocean when he falls in

drinking contests

staring contests

fighting contests

eating contests

just competing over everything and anything possible

training together

he may be really strong and have a devil fruit power

but he won't hesitate to practice his hand-to-hand combat with you

especially if you need it

will tease you about it though

so you just push him overboard again

long talks about your lives

your pasts

your families

where you see yourselves in a year

five years

maybe even ten years

your goals

and aspirations

just talks about life

he tells you about his dad

and is relieved when you tell him that just because he was his father's son doesn't mean that'll be his legacy 

you two would die for each other

nothing will ever tear you apart

besties for the resties

9/10

super sweet and funny

but won't bathe no matter how much you beg

Shanks

party boy™

genuinely doesn't give a fuck

he's here to have fun

and protect his family

that's it

tells you the corniest jokes you've ever heard

also laughs at everything you say

like Luffy, laughs even when you're being serious

uses his missing arm as an excuse if you ever try to get him to do his duties as captain

sometimes struggles with phantom pains

but assures you they'll go away on their own

drinking contests

if he's got a drink in hand

then everyone's gonna have a good time

100% threw up on your shoes once before passing out

laughed like it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard when you told him

quickly stifles his laughter when he sees how mad you are

offers to let you throw up on his shoes to make it even

you just stare at his sandals for a moment before walking away

watching Luffy's progress through the news together

bragging about the kid as if he were your own

the antics you two get up to guarantee that Ben will have a constant headache

the rest of the crew finds your dynamic duo to be hilarious

the sheer power of this crew is near unimaginable

so if the two of you ever actually fight enemies

they don't stand a chance

if anyone ever targeted you

and hurt you

Shanks would have his crew capture your attacker

and then show them exactly why no one messes with the Red Hair Pirates

8/10

always provides a good time

but will laugh at you if you fall 

Mihawk

I ain't ever seen two pretty best friends

until now

you are probably a little more lively than this warlord

he just doesn't care for drama

which means it's up to you to keep him in the loop

yet somehow he has the truly juicy details you could only wish to find on your own

y'all have a small book club

it's just the two of you

you tried to invite Perona to join

but she thought that your reading selection was so not cute

you even tried to invite Shanks once

all that accomplished was you gaining a new drinking buddy

which Mihawk begrudgingly allowed to happen

basically, the book club is just you two sipping on wine while discussing every mistake that the author made while writing your current read

salty bitches™

you're one of the only people alive who can get Mihawk to laugh

which is your favorite party trick

except that he's never laughed at the parties you both went to

(ie visiting Shanks and getting roped into a night of drinking)

he airs out all of the other warlords' dirty laundry to you

will talk mad shit about them

well at least most of them

he finds that no matter how powerful they may be

they're all idiots in his eyes

they can't see the big picture

he trusts that you have enough common sense to use the information sparingly

and you do

for the most part

it's giving rich single wine aunt meets vodka mom (but without the kids)

9/10

knows how to relax in style

but will not let you play with his sword no matter how many times you ask

[another-lost-mc]

taking the boys to see barbie‼️‼️🔥😫💯🤩🫨🫶🏻

A/N: I just got home from seeing Oppenheimer so this is like, perfect timing. These are some general movie outing headcanons for the group!

Going To the Movies

THE DEMON BROTHERS & THE DATEABLES

0.8k words | SFW | gn!Reader

Content: Luke is mentioned in a platonic sense only, the other relationships can be read as platonic or romantic.

You suggest a matinee show time because you figure it'll be less disruptive and chaotic for everyone.

Levi and Satan are the only ones that bother to look up the movie beforehand.

Levi wanted to read the early critic reviews, but he's careful not to complain about how stupid the plot sounds because he knows you want to see it.

(If it's a pop culture franchise Akuzon sells, Levi will order a t-shirt or sweater to wear on the day of the movie outing.)

Satan looked up the film's plot/backstory because you've been eager to talk about it.

(He likes knowing more about your interests than Lucifer his brothers do.)

Diavolo caught wind of your plans somehow (probably from Lucifer) and managed to convince Barbatos that they could both use an afternoon off to have some fun in the human world too.

When you show up at the theatre, Solomon and the angels from Purgatory Hall are already waiting near the concession stand.

(Barbatos admits to you that he might've told Luke about the movie plans in passing.)

Ordering food at the snack bar is interesting.

Lucifer orders himself a drink but no snacks. He opts for wine if the theatre sells it, or coffee if they don't serve alcohol, and he finally settles on bottled sparkling water if nothing else is available.

Mammon orders a popcorn combo that comes with a bag of candy. He asks you very casually what kind you like best before he just happens to choose that for himself.

Levi orders the popcorn combo that comes with the plastic collectible cup, and he browses the small display of plushies and toys near the snack bar too.

Satan orders popcorn and a drink and reminds you that there's plenty if you want to share with him.

Asmo buys a bottle of vitamin water and says he doesn't want anything to eat.

(Later he'll sneak some popcorn or nachos and candy from whoever he sits beside.)

Beel just points to all the popcorn poppers behind the counter and says he'll buy all of it.

(He grabs bags of candy off the display and drops those on the counter too.)

Belphie clarifies to the poor staff working behind the counter that they'll take two large bags of popcorn with lots of butter—and two bags of candy each, and two of the largest soft drink size they have...

Barbatos heads to another part of the concession stand to look at their frozen yogurt flavours and toppings.

While Barbatos is distracted, Diavolo orders the kid's popcorn combo because he wanted the collectible cup and toy it comes with.

Simeon buys a kid's popcorn combo for Luke and a frozen yogurt cup for himself.

(He gets two spoons so Luke can share it with him.)

Solomon orders popcorn with butter for himself, and everyone is relieved that he didn't try to sneak in any of his own homemade snacks.

He pulls out a salt shaker filled with something he claims he made himself and sprinkles it all over his popcorn.

(Unsurprisingly, no one else wants to try any when he offers it.)

Your entire group could fill an entire row of the theatre, and seating arrangements are the next big hurdle.

It surprises no one that Mammon, Asmo, Belphie, and Solomon all want to sit beside you.

(You absolutely forbid them from playing rock-paper-scissors in the theatre to solve that squabble.)

There are some obvious allowances in the seating arrangements: your BFF/lover(s) naturally claim the seats beside or closest to you.

If the seat's not already taken, Lucifer wants to sit on your right hand side.

(He smiles when you offer him some of your own snacks during the film.)

Satan and Belphie are not allowed to sit in the row behind Lucifer's seat—he already knows they'll kick the back of his chair (or his head) if they do.

Beel and Belphie usually sit next to each other. If Belphie falls asleep, he'll lean on Beel's shoulder so he doesn't disturb anyone else.

Levi complains that he's not in the seat that will give him the "best viewer experience," whatever that means, but he will sit close to you or Mammon if he can.

Solomon, Simeon and Luke move up a row and sit behind you if they can't sit beside you.

(Luke will tap your shoulder during the movie and offer you some of the candy from his kid's combo.)

Diavolo likes to sit beside or close to Lucifer.

(You can hear Diavolo comment excitedly about things throughout the movie while Lucifer reminds him to hush, which leads to both of them bickering loud enough for everyone else to hear.)

Barbatos likes to sit near Satan because they both enjoy watching the film quietly and won't bother each other.

(Barbatos doesn't mind sitting apart from Diavolo because he's always mindful of what his Young Master is up to.)

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[caraetdeul]

I Know My Love Should Be Celebrated

Choi Seungcheol x fem!reader

The one time you finally choose to forget.

(with platonic!Jihoon x reader)

TW: angst, angst, angst!!! Hurt/no comfort, somehow toxic relationship, infidelity

A/n: We finally reached the last part of this series! Hopefully, I was able to give justice to this whole thing until the very end. This is probably the very first time I successfully made something as long and crucial as this and I'm just so happy with how it turned out. Anyway, enjoy reading caratdeuls!

Btw, it can be read as gn!reader but there are descriptions of feminine clothes and things.

~Main Masterlist~ | ~Series Masterlist~

The buzz of the restaurant was the first thing that you heard once you stepped foot into the premises but the visual of the restaurant itself was the first thing that filled you with awe.

It was beautiful, to say the least, and you weren’t even in the main hall yet.

The line before the hostess wasn’t a long one but it still made you wait for a few minutes. And frankly, it was worth it. You've been waiting for months to finally be able to set foot in this restaurant ever since you heard about it from Jihoon. His comments about the wonderful food and ambiance of the whole place certainly made you giddy with the need to experience it in person. So when you finally got the chance to make a reservation, you immediately booked it.

You were approximately 10 minutes earlier than your reservation—30 minutes if you didn’t stand by outside the restaurant just to pass the time—which was enough time for you to stand in line before the hostess finally led you to your table. Your whole day was basically planned around this reservation. You were done getting all glammed up an hour before you had to get to the restaurant. You even booked an appointment for your nails the day before just to feel your best tonight. A testimony to how much you were looking forward to this day.

Looking around as you settle down in your seat with a menu in your hands, there was no doubt Jihoon’s stories about the place had even a speck of lie in it. The whole place was gorgeous. The restaurant was divided into 3 parts with a small round stage in the middle and a chandelier hanging above it. The first part was directly connected to the restaurant’s entrance, a whole bar takes up one side with some 4-seater tables around it and a service door leading to the kitchen on the other. The second part was a private dining hall on the back of the restaurant and from the looks of it, it seems like a company has currently reserved the whole area. Lastly, the third part takes up half of the restaurant which was filled with tables and booths as well as a glass door leading to a small garden at the back.

You were seated in one of the booths overlooking the garden outside. An elegant pendant light hangs above your head, its warm light illuminating the table in front of you. A waiter came by to take your order but you politely declined, stating that you were still waiting for someone. And by someone, you meant Seungcheol.

Choi Seungcheol.

Your boyfriend.

The love of your life.

Your significant other for about 3 years.

4 years if you both survive until tomorrow.

You chuckled bitterly at the thought. In less than 24 hours, you were about to celebrate your anniversary for the 4th time. But in less than 10 minutes, he was also able to break your heart, drown you in uncertainty, and smother the warm flame that was keeping you alive. It was no surprise that after that day at the restaurant, you would never be the same ever again. Since then, you felt like you were walking on a tightrope with your relationship hanging on a balance and Seungcheol was just a bystander without a care in the world.

He was the one you always confided in. The one person who truly knows you as a person and embraces your deepest darkest secrets close to his heart. There was never a doubt that you could share your most deranged thoughts with him and he would still kiss you with the touch of a curator that was given the most precious antique of all time. But when you got home that day, a trail of rainwater followed you as you paced around your apartment floor with the steps of a mentally ill patient who was slowly losing their mind.

Nothing felt real at the time. Doubts were flooding your mind with every step that you took. You were struggling so bad to keep your head above water that you can’t even remember how you got out of your rain-soaked clothes and into the safety of your bed. At some point, you do recall something akin to your brother calling and asking where you were. And if you were only lucid enough at the time, you would’ve noticed the worry and a slight hint of tension in his voice.

The next morning, you woke up to the sun's rays hitting your face and your boyfriend snuggled into your side. His angelic face as he slept would’ve been such a sight to behold on a morning like that but it wasn’t heavenly enough to stop the onslaught of memories of the previous night that dropped on you like a ton of bricks right onto your chest.

And just like that, you realized the true meaning of the word ‘sonder’. A term that was used to describe the awareness that everyone in this world has a complex and vivid life just like you do. Because now, you can imagine the person strolling along the road just outside your apartment with their dog by their side as they debate on what to eat for breakfast, oblivious to the fact that a couple’s life together was crumbling down like a poorly made sandcastle just in the window above their head.

It was devastatingly beautiful.

Like a funeral on a sunny day.

In all honesty, you had no idea how to confront him about all of those things. You were trying to find the right time to do just that but every time an opportunity arose, there was always something that stopped you from acting on it. Sometimes, it would be because of something you can’t control. Most times, it was your own self that was stopping you from doing anything. Because even though you just want to claw out your chest with the need to rescue yourself from the pain it is causing, you know deep down that you don’t have the strength to let go of the one thing that’s been the best thing that has ever happened to you.

Now here you were in your best dress, sipping water in a grandiose restaurant, contemplating once again whether or not this would be a good time to talk about it. In hindsight, you probably shouldn’t have chosen this place as a venue for your greatest showdown. But you knew that this night would inevitably end on a bad note so what better way to soften the blow than wine and good food, right?

You checked your watch for the nth time before texting Seungcheol once again, asking him about his whereabouts. It was already 47 minutes past your agreed call time and he was still nowhere to be seen nor has he replied to any of your texts. You took a deep breath in frustration, your nails furiously tapping on the table. You didn’t even notice that you were about to empty out your glass until the waiter came back with a pitcher, already refilling it with cold water.

Time passed agonizingly slowly. The torture was only further emphasized by the stares and whispers of people sitting at tables near yours. You already had half a mind to stand on your table and dance to macarena just so they’d actually have something to talk about other than your misery but you restrained yourself knowing that it’s the nerves talking.

Around the 1 hour mark, you finally saw a glimpse of your boyfriend’s figure around the entrance. You sat up more properly, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves as you watched him walk towards your table. He was dressed in an all-black suit and tie that hugged his body just right and his hair was combed up away from his forehead. In short, he was beautiful.

He sat down beside you in the booth, a respectable distance between you to still have enough leeway to face you properly, before huffing, “My God, the traffic was so bad. I’m sorry I’m late.”

“It’s all good,” you smiled at him, “All that matters is you’re here now.”

“Have you ordered anything yet?”

“No, not yet.” You picked up the menu and handed the extra one to him. You then signaled the waiter to take your order.

“Are we ready to order?” the waiter asked, pen and paper ready at hand.

“Yes,” you nodded, giving him your order.

“And how about you, sir?”

“I’ll have the scallops,” Seungcheol replied before taking a sip of his water.

“Oh, I’m sorry sir but we currently don’t have any available right now.”

“Oh.” he looked back at the menu, giving it another once-over before saying, “I’ll just have your steak then.”

“Okay sir,” the waiter responded, writing down both of your orders, “Is there anything else?”

“No, that’s a—”

“And your most expensive champagne, please,” Seungcheol interjected.

You glanced back at him, perplexed. The waiter nodded and left before you could say anything.

You stared at him as he nursed his glass of water, “I thought we weren’t trying to blow through our savings?”

“Whatever do you mean, darling?” he jested.

“I meant why are we spending on such an expensive wine?”

Seungcheol shrugged, “Well, we’re here to celebrate so why not?”

“We could’ve just gotten their usual wine,” you retorted, “It’s definitely gonna be cheaper than what they’re about to give us.”

Seungcheol scoffed, his grip on his glass tightening at the slightest, “You can’t really blame me, you know.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “What are you saying?”

He rolled his eyes before replying, “It’s not like I was the one who chose to celebrate in this high-end restaurant.”

“What the hell are you trying to insinuate?” you asked, clenching your teeth. This was not how you wanted this night to go. The waiter came back with the wine in hand, pouring the both of you a glass each.

Seungcheol thanked the waiter first before answering, “What I’m insinuating, as you so politely asked, is that maybe I’m not the one that’s spending all of our savings in one night.”

You gaped at him, your eyebrows raised at how absurd he was being right now, “I thought you wanted this?”

“No, I didn’t. You did.” he sneered, “You were just yapping so much about this restaurant that I said yes just so you’d shut up.”

You flinched back at his words. You didn’t think you were annoying him so badly with that. And if that was really the case, you’re pretty sure he would’ve never talked to you like that in any way. Because of it, you were more confused than ever over the situation. You narrowed your eyes, observing him for a bit. That’s when you finally noticed the subtle slur of his words and a hazy look in his eyes.

You’ve got to be kidding me, you thought. There’s no fucking way… 

You leaned closer to him, trying to determine whether or not you were just imagining things. He immediately backed away from you but that was enough for you to catch a whiff of his scent. His overwhelmingly alcoholic scent.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he chuckled in confusion, pushing you away slightly with his hands on your shoulders, “What are you doing?”

“Are you…” you started, disbelief written all over your face, “Are you drunk?”

He scoffed, “And so what if I am?”

Your eyes widened, “You are drunk!”

“Would you please keep your voice down?” he hissed, “Other people are looking at us.”

“I don’t care about them!” you shouted, “What I do care about is the fact that we’re out here celebrating our anniversary and you’re drunk!”

“That’s not what it looks like.”

“Then tell me,” you retorted, “What does it look like, huh?”

“My God,” he said, exasperated, “Just let it go.”

“Let it go?” You laughed in disbelief, “Are you seriously asking me to let it go?”

“Yes! I am!” you flinched as he slammed the glass down the table. A tense silence blanketed the both of you, your heavy breaths the only sounds that were coming out from your table. It was obvious that neither of you was backing down. But the tension was cut short when the waiter finally arrived with your orders, greeting you both with comedic timing as if you weren’t just in the middle of tearing each other’s throats.

The whole dinner was spent in silence, the tension thick enough that you could cut it with a knife. And you probably would if you only had a knife in your hand right now. But alas, the clang of your spoon and fork against your plates were the only ones that could cut through. You couldn’t even look at him directly for fear that you would lose what little control that you have on you. This whole situation just further reminds you of the fact that it’s been a long time since you had a decent dinner together.

By the time you were done with your food, Seungcheol was already flagging down the waiter to pay, no doubt eager to finally get out of this restaurant. Within 5 minutes, you were out of the restaurant and walking towards your apartment.

The cold wind of the evening should’ve calmed you down but you guessed it really was only a matter of time before one of you explodes. And in all honesty, it wasn’t that surprising when that person was you.

“Aren’t we gonna talk about what just happened back there?” you stopped in your tracks before facing him but he just continued walking.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Hey!” you chased after him, firmly grasping his wrist and effectively stopping him from getting further away from you. “I’m not done talking.”

“Well, I am so let go of me.” Seungcheol tried wriggling out of your grip but even with all of those muscles, there was no escaping the grip of a woman who’s had enough.

“No, you’re not getting away from me that easily,” you huffed, “You’ve been ignoring me these past few weeks and I’ve had enough of it.”

“When did I ever ignore you?” he threw his hands up in the air, infuriated by whatever you were trying to imply.

“The gallery!” you exclaimed, “You knew how hard I worked for that and you didn’t even have the decency to tell me you weren’t coming!”

“I did tell you!”

“Yeah, okay you did.” you laughed bitterly, “You texted me you were standing me up for your friend after the whole thing was over.”

“Well, that doesn’t change the fact that I told you I won’t be coming.”

“I waited for you!” you cried out, “I waited for you while I was preparing for the event. I waited for you while I was sharing drinks and stories with my family and friends. I waited for you ‘til the very end of the event and even after that, I still waited for you.”

“You didn’t have to.” Seungcheol scoffed, crossing his arms, “You could’ve just left when you didn’t see me 5 minutes into the event. It’s not my fault you still expected me to come when it was obvious that I wasn’t coming at all.”

“Of course, I would wait for you despite all of that! You know why?”

“Why?”

“Because you promised me.”

His jaw ticked, his gaze anywhere but on you. You didn’t notice you were crying until you were done talking, finally feeling the cold wind fanning the tears that were streaming down your face. Wiping your tears away, you turned yourself away from him in an attempt to compose yourself. But no protection can ever save you from what’s about to come next.

“I shouldn’t have listened to Sophie,” you heard him murmur, “I knew it wasn’t a good idea to come here.”

“W–what?” you breathed out.

He scoffed, “I didn’t even want to go to that restaurant but Sophie convinced me to go for you.”

“Sophie?”

He hummed, oblivious to the turmoil that was swirling just beneath your skin. It all made sense now. The woman that you saw in that restaurant with him was Sophie. The person he was texting that night at your dinner date was Sophie. The childhood friend he had a reunion with was Sophie. It was all Sophie. His Sophie.

“I’m done.” You declared. Time stood still between the two of you. You finally looked him in the eye, feeling all your resolve fully dissolve from your body. Whatever he saw on your face was probably a sight to behold because you saw the way he immediately sobered up, the weight of the situation finally dawning on him. You finally let go of the single thread that was holding your relationship together. You felt the rage that was once coursing through your veins be replaced with the vicious grip of numbness and indifference as you firmly said, “I’m done.”

“Wh–what do you mean?” he breathed out.

But instead of answering him, you only stared at him. You waited as your silence finally got through his thick head. You didn’t wait around to see how the end of your relationship slowly painted strokes of devastation across his face, finally deciding that it’s time for you to choose yourself. Walking away from him, you took a deep breath. After weeks of coughing up from the smoke of your burning connection, the clean air that filled your lungs was a solace you wouldn’t trade for anything at all starting now.

Taglist: @moonwonuu @belladaises @porridgesblog @sasaapportela @allys-reads @vixensss @clownprincehoeshi @gyuguys

(To everyone in the taglist, please let me know if you still want to be tagged in future works of mine. Thank you for reading and supporting! I love y'all so much 🥹🫶)

[sublimitymp3]

for yandere aemond, aegon, daemon and criston, maybe how do they deal with their love having a lover they are not willing to give up even after marriage? Thank you very much for time you are amazing👀❤

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Aemond fell in love with you instantly when you two met. He never particularly liked the idea of being wedded to someone he did not know, but once he saw your sweet face, his worries drifted away. However, he had noticed your reluctance and apprehension to be around him. He thought nothing of it, chalking it up to you having the same opinions of arranged marriages as he once did. Aemond was sure that by the time you two were wed, you'd warm up to him

He was extremely wrong.

You were never cruel or particularly cold to him, you just never gave him any affection or attention as he would. You would dodge his kisses, wipe the ones he did leave on your cheek off, and you treated him more like an acquaintance rather than a husband. He had noticed you would receive letters from time to time, keeping them close to you and being overtly protective of them, and how flustered you'd look after reading them. This only served to make him even more curious about their apparent special contents. One night, Aemond would find the little box where you had stashed the letters. Curiosity got the better of him, and he began reading the various pieces of parchment. A silent rage began to fill him as he discovered they were love letters, exchanged with someone from the Riverlands, your birthplace. He would burn each letter that night, hatching plans to separate you from this secret lover. He'd intercept each and every letter your lover would send to you, reading them with annoyance before burning them in the fireplace. He could see the emotional toll it was taking on you. Your lover had abruptly ceased their communications with you, with no explanation. You wondered if they had grown tired of you, or if they were incapacitated. You were growing sad, and Aemond was always there, though you tried your best to brush him off in hopes another letter would come for you. Eventually, when three months had passed and no new letter was sent, you'd come crying to Aemond, and he'd welcome you with open arms.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Aegon adored you. You were everything he was not, dutiful, kind, and cheerful. He admired you, and he genuinely felt so much love for you, despite you not knowing each other for long. While you were always friendly towards your new husband, you never were quite affectionate with him. He would try to win you over, stealing kisses from you and spoiling you with lavish gifts. He tried for months it seems to charm you, but to no avail. It was clear you had no romantic interest in Aegon, and he found himself slipping into old habits.

It was a brisk night, the cold breeze causing most people to wear heavy cloaks made of wool. Aegon was drunk in some alehouse, drowning his sorrows in his cups. In his peripheral vision, he could've sworn he saw you, huddled in the corner with a large cloak draped over you, and with some man. But he brushed it off as his drunken mind playing tricks on him. He focused back on his cups, but he couldn't shake how similar that woman looked to you. He fully turned around, squinting his eyes in an attempt to clear his blurry vision. Once his eyes were focused and clear, he saw that it was indeed you, with another man. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head when he saw you sharing kisses and loving touches with this stranger. It finally started to make sense to him why you insisted on keeping your relationship with Aegon strictly platonic.

Aegon would go classic Yandere at this point. He'd confine you to your chambers so you wouldn't be able to meet this man anymore. He would probably have his more...sketchy acquaintances deal with the man, eliminating him completely. You would cry and plead with Aegon to just let you go, to allow you to continue to see your lover, but your attempts to sway him were futile. He'd kiss you, whether you liked it or not, and he'd breed you until he was certain you were pregnant, simply another way to keep you anchored to him. Aegon was never much of a patient man, but he'd gladly wait until you accepted him as your one and only love.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Daemon was no stranger to marriage, having been wedded twice already, to Lady Rhea Royce and Lady Laena Velaryon. He was quite sad over the manner in which his second wife had died, and he had truly loved her. Though, he didn't show his sadness, preferring to keep up his appearance of indifference. But then, he couldn't help but let his eyes linger on you at her funeral. You were the daughter of a wealthy merchant who resided at Spicetown, and he was quickly smitten with you.

You were wedded to Daemon not long after, as your father was ecstatic when Daemon asked for your hand. Your father had considered it a great honor and blessing that a Targaryen prince had asked to wed you, and he didn't care to take your feelings into consideration when he accepted the offer. Daemon had observed you were rather closed off and reluctant toward him, but figured your apprehension was either due to how your father wedded you off like it was nothing, or maybe even his reputation as the "rogue prince." When you came to Daemon one day asking to visit Spicetown so you may see your father, he agreed. He wasn't going to keep you from the only family you had, and he somewhat enjoyed the seaside town and its simplicity. Once there, your behavior changed. You were acting a bit shifty, and you weren't even spending much time with your father, instead staying out and about, always disappearing off. Daemon decided to follow you one day, not caring if you discovered him and got angry at him for doing so. he watched you go to a pier, and talk with some fisherman. Maybe he was an old friend or a friend of your father's? But jealousy began to hinder his judgment, and even more so when he saw you kissing the man.

Daemon clearly thinks little of the consequences of his actions, and so he'd stride over, cutting the man down with Dark Sister. He'd drag you roughly by your wrist back to your father and have you say goodbye. Once back home, do not think your actions would go unpunished. Like Aegon, he'd lock you in your chambers, slowly taking away freedoms and making you dependent on him. He didn't care if you hated him, in time he'd make you understand his actions.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Ser Criston had quickly taken notice of you, a new serving girl. You were always timid around him whenever he tried to make idle conversation, something he found adorable. As the queen's sworn shield there were not many times he could speak to you, but at night when he was posted outside her door, you would walk by, holding various cleaning supplies. Then he would stop you to make friendly conversation. Slowly but surely, he was falling in love with you.

One night, Ser Criston would stop you once more. You had assumed he would make more conversation with you, but you were surprised when he dragged you off. He would sneak you both out of the Red Keep and into the city, finding some drunken Septon and forcing him to wed you two. You were so in shock, that you barely protested, and you were now his wife.

Ser Criston was so fond of you, and how timid you continued to be around him. He had forsaken his vows just to be with you, and he would not so subtly remind you of this, in some way to guilt you into keeping quiet about your marriage. And you did feel guilty for having a lover when Ser Criston had risked his integrity and honor to be with you, but you didn't ask to wed him, and that was his own doing and of no fault of yours. One day, while Ser Criston was making his way to his own quarters for rest, he saw you stealing kisses with some lowly stable boy. After all he had risked to be with you, this is how you repaid him? No, Ser Criston wouldn't stand for it.

The next night, when you were approaching the hall where the queen's chambers resided, and where your dear husband was stationed, you noticed how...angry he looked. You would slow your footsteps down, dreading approaching him, but it was inevitable. He would roughly grab you when you finally were near, making you drop your cleaning supplies to the ground. He'd hold your face tightly with one hand, threatening your position as a serving girl, your only source of income. He would make you swear that you'd never see the stable boy again, lest something terrible should happen to him. All you could do was helplessly nod your head in agreement, and hope Ser Criston would spare you both.

[l5byrinth]

new romantics

“the best people in life are free.”

pairing: finnick x fem!reader, platonic!johanna x fem!reader, literally everyone else just platonic

summary: celebrating the anniversary of getting rid of the hunger games with your found family with a surprise for them in store as well.

requested

a/n: i wrote this like rn which is almost 1 am and i’m not mad about how it has turned out. i should probably edit this but wanted to finish at least one of the requests by today!! also anon i kind of changed it by making johanna someone like sister for reader just so more people feel included when reading <333 hope you like this anon and tbh it’s really bad but i hope you enjoy!!

WITH a wide smile on your face, you jokingly scolded your little child and Peeta for running around the living room. You were busy chatting up with your closest friends Katniss and Johanna, while the rest of your friends were all having a conversation of their own. You were glad the others got distracted by the two, because they were just questioning the fact you passed on a glass of wine. “Sorry,” Your little toddler pouted their underlip forward, your heart melting at the sight.

You motioned for the kid to come and sit on your lap, “That’s okay, sweetie. Now, show aunt Johanna and aunt Katniss your teeth.”

The little child bared their teeth for Johanna and Katniss to examine. Your kid had recently lost two of their teeth, and saying the little one was proud was an understatement. “Wow, you’re all grown up now.” Johanna commented, making the small child smile even wider. Katniss questioned, grabbing the young one’s hands, “What’d you do with the lost teeth?”

Your kid hopped off your lap, “Made money with it, duh.” And the youngster sprinted off to Peeta, who was already waiting for him.

Laughter filled the room, and even Katniss - who was a hard one to crack - couldn’t help but stifle a laugh. Finnick, who was previously busy in the kitchen preparing one of his favourite meals, entered the sitting room. His gaze fell upon you and, just like every time he looked at you, it was like he fell in love all over again.

When you noticed him on the other side of the room, you excused yourself to your friends before making your way over to your husband. You draped your arms over his shoulders as he rested his hands on your waist, “How’s everything going in the kitchen, love?” He smiled and leaned in closer, letting his nose brush against yours, “It’s going just fine.”

“Ugh, get a room you two!” Haymitch, who was playing with your child together with Peeta, yelled out of nowhere. You rested your forehead on Finnick’s chest while chuckling. He pulled you in closer while he did the same. “Let’s go to the kitchen.” Finnick offered, putting some distance between the two of you to look at you. He grabbed your hand, before leading you to there.

The stove was filled with different kinds of pans and pots, and judging on the kitchen counter covered by many ingredients, you could tell Finnick really was trying his best. “I need you to taste, darling,” Finnick said while grabbing a wooden spoon. He dipped it into one of the pots and blew on it a few times. He sipped on it a little himself, just to make sure it wasn’t too hot, before offering you.

Your eyes widened when you tasted it and Finnick’s face fell, “Oh, no, don’t tell me I’ve ruined it.”

“I’m so sorry, Finn.” You apologised while pulling a faux soured face. With his hands covering his face, he shook his head in disbelief, “I knew it! I should’ve…”

He stopped when you removed his hands, letting him see the smile on your face. “I was just kidding, Finn, that was amazing.” You assured with a giggle. “Oh, you! Darling, if it weren’t for you being so damn adorable…” He pulled you in closer as you couldn’t hold in your giggles. When your laughter died down, he left a kiss on your forehead, before resting his against yours. “We’ll tell them, right?”

You nodded in response, forgetting about the entire world in your lover’s arms. Just like you did since the moment you met him.

A call of your name by Johanna brought you back to reality. “Where are you?” She continued in a sing-songy tone while entering the kitchen. She stopped when she saw the two of you and a smile tugged at her lips as she said, “Oh, hey lovebirds.”

“Hey, Jo.” Finnick and you said in unison while you faced her.” She walked over and grabbed your hand, “I’m going to steal my wife from you real quick, Finnick.”

Finnick responded, pulling away from you with furrowed eyebrows, “Sure…” You let go of Finnick and followed her out of the kitchen as Finnick yelled, “Wait, you mean my wife!” You and Johanna laughed while linking your arms, “Nope. Mine!”

“You wish!” You heard Finnick faintly before you entered the dining room.

The two of you started talking as you set the table, a lot of memories being recalled. “Oh my god, I remember how terrified I was of you when we first met!” Johanna’s mouth fell agape by your exclaim, and she jokingly responded, “Ouch!”

You playfully nudged her side with your elbow, “You were scarily intimidating, Jo! How could I not be?”

“You know what, I’m actually glad I gave that impression. Exactly what I was going for.” Your best friend spoke, setting the last plate on the table.

“I can’t believe that we have come so far.” You still remember the hard times as clear as day. The hunger games, the rebellion, the war. But you got through it together with all the people who had become such a huge part of your life along the way. Like Johanna, who was basically like a sister to you. “Done!” Johanna said, as she just finished putting all the cutlery in place.

“What’s wrong?” She questioned when she noticed you had fallen silent. “Just grateful,” You started with quivering lips, “You’re like a sister to me and I couldn’t imagine a life without you-”

Johanna walked over to you and pulled you in for a tight, but comforting hug. Something only Johanna could do. She pulled away as she said, “Now, stop being so sentimental. I don’t want to cry in front of you.”

You chuckled at her comment, wiping away the tears that had escaped bay. “Let’s call everyone to the table now, shall we?”

With the dining room filled with the people you loved with your entire body and soul, you couldn’t wish for anything else. Everyone had taken a seat, admiring the food that lay upon them. Most of the food was cooked by Finnick, who was sitting beside you and holding your hand tightly. Your little child was sitting on the other side of you, talking to you about everything and nothing.

You smiled at your child’s story, and when it finished, your eyes found Finnick’s. You knew exactly what his eyes were telling you. Both you and Finnick stood up and the room quieted down. He wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you in closer as you spoke., “It has been quite some time since the day we finally got some peace in our lives.”

“And sitting here, with the family I found during the hard times, there is no place I’d rather be.” You continued, everyone listening attentively and some nodded at your words. “So since we’re celebrating the anniversary of the day we finally got rid of the games, there was something Finnick and I wanted to announce as well.”

Everyone waited in anticipation, wondering what was going on as you and Finnick shared a look. He nodded encouragingly with a soft smile.

“We’re having another baby!” You announced as Finnick held up the photos of the echo you had made a week ago. The whole room erupted in joy and excitement. Johanna was the first to get up from her seat and run over to embrace you, followed shortly by Katniss. Finnick was being congratulated by Peeta and Haymitch, as Katniss told you, “I knew it! You were so obvious, you know?”

However, before you could respond, your small child stood on your chair, “Daddy told me not to tell anyone!”

“Yes, and you didn’t, baby. You did such a good job.” With the brightest smile on your face you kissed your little one’s forehead.

“We can’t wait to welcome our little baby to the family.” Finnick said to everyone, to which they nodded their head to. Everyone sat back down on their chairs as soon as they all had congratulated you. You and Finnick sat down as well, relieved that you didn’t have to keep this from your loved ones any longer. “You’ve got to name your little one Effie if it’s a girl.” Effie commented, grabbing ahold of Haymitch’s hand with as she looked at you with a smile.

“Or Peeta if it’s a boy!” Peeta exclaimed.

“No, no, no! You should definitely name him Haymitch.”

“In your dreams.” Katniss said, rolling her eyes at the man.

A soft chuckle escaped your lips and you turned your head to face your husband, who was already looking at you with a lovesick smile.

[purple-plum-petals]

⊱ TWST Characters and the Orange Peel Theory ⊰ || Multiple Character Scenario

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮        Character(s): Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Trey Clover, Cater Diamond, Riddle Rosehearts, Jack Howl, Ruggie Bucchi, Leona Kingscholar, Jade Leech, Floyd Leech, Azul Ashengrotto, Jamil Viper, Kalim Al-Asim, Epel Felmier, Rook Hunt, Vil Schoeinheit, Ortho Shroud, Idia Shroud, Lilia Vanrouge, Silver, Sebek Zigvolt, Malleus Draconia (Twisted Wonderland)        Reader Type: Human, Ramshackle Prefect (Gender-Neutral Pronouns)        Warning(s): Nothing! I also always use the Japanese TWST Terms (Dorm Leader instead of Housewarden, Madols instead of Thaumarks, etc.) in my writing.        Genre: Scenario, Fluff, Attempt at Comedy        Word Count: ~1530 words        Scenario: What do the TWST boys do when you randomly turn to them, holding an orange in your palm as you ask, “Could you peel this for me?”        Author’s Note: I’ve been having a hard time motivating myself to work on requests as of late and, given the state of some of my friendships irl at the moment, I wanted to write about the TWST boys and whether or not they would “pass” the Orange Peel Theory relationship test (probably because I need some comfort right now lmao). For those who don’t know, the Orange Peel Theory is a theory that, if someone loves and cares about you, they will do the smallest of tasks for you with no fuss; this “test” is supposed to show whether or not the care and respect in a relationship are mutual (another one of these “tests” I saw was asking your friend or partner to tie your shoe for you). This was written to be read as platonic, but it can be interpreted as romantic if that’s your jam.

→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated!  ♡ ╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

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Looks at the orange in your hand before giving you a warm smile in return, taking it from your grasp and peeling the outer rind with no comment. He even offers to feed it to you, holding one of the pieces of fruit between his pointer finger and thumb as he gently brings it to your lips. Will only take a piece for himself if you give him explicit permission to do so; after all, he doesn’t want to ask to have some of your lunch since you looked so excited to eat the orange when you asked him to peel it for you (you were more excited about the fact he agreed to peel the fruit for you rather than the orange itself). Passes the test with flying colors.

Silver

Peels the rind from the flesh of the orange with a small smile while continuing to talk happily about whatever subject you two had been discussing prior to your question. He doesn’t ask why you suddenly needed the orange peeled since it doesn’t really matter to him; you asked him for help and he was happy to deliver (he was even touched you were comfortable enough to ask him to do that for you). Passes the test perfectly.

Kalim, Rook

Peels the orange with a level of perfection you didn’t even know was possible. You’re left absolutely astounded when he returns the newly-peeled fruit in your hand with a smile, not a single ounce of pith left on the flesh of the orange slices; it was the best orange you’ve probably ever eaten in your life. He passes the test and you honestly couldn’t ask for a better person to peel an orange.

Ortho

Is a bit curious as to why you asked him to peel the orange for you since he’s seen you do it before, but he doesn’t say anything as he takes the fruit from your hand to peel it. However, he ends up overestimating the amount of strength needed to remove the outer rind from the flesh, so now the both of you are splattered in orange juice and pulp. Your laughter at the ridiculous situation makes what happened a fond memory rather than something to be embarrassed about. While he technically passes the test, you now have no orange to eat (it has been reduced to atoms). It’s the thought that counts, though.

Jack, Malleus

Agrees to peel the orange for you, but he does want a couple pieces of the fruit in exchange for his services; he doesn’t just do things for free you know. He peels the orange for a price, but it’s a reasonable deal at least. You agree to his terms and watch as he happily and easily peels the orange, humming all the while. Once the rind has been removed from the flesh, he takes three slices of the fruit for himself to snack on before giving you the rest. Even though he peeled the orange for you, he technically fails the test since he wanted something in return.

Ruggie, Azul

Plucks the orange from your palm, but asks why you’re not able to peel it yourself. Are you not feeling well or something? He then begins to ask if you’re eating an orange because you need extra vitamin C as he proceeds to ask if you’re coming down with a cold; he definitely overthinks why you asked him to peel your orange for you. So, while he does peel the orange and successfully passes the test, you’re starting to think that maybe he cares about you a little too much with the sudden worry about your well-being.

Deuce, Riddle

Demands to know why you’re asking him to peel your orange for you since he’s seen you do it plenty of times before (keep in mind, he’s asking this while actively peeling your orange for you)! He then proceeds to ask if you’ve been eating properly and taking care of yourself if removing the rind from a piece of fruit was too strenuous on your human body; he even offers you to come and join him while he trains since his vigorous routine would be sure to give you enough strength to peel the orange on your own. He passes the test, but is the lecture something you truly want to have to sit through?

Sebek

Knows and is aware of the theory since he has seen it circling around on social media as of late, but he’s happy to peel the orange for you nevertheless. He even thinks it’s super cute how you asked him out of all your fellow classmates to try this viral test with (he’s actually kind of honored)! He of course passes the test since he already knew about it, but he would have gladly peeled your orange for you even if he didn’t know about it; you’re just that special to him.

Cater

Also knows about the theory from social media, but doesn’t really want to get his hands all sticky and potentially ruin a nail while trying to remove the outer layer of the fruit. Thankfully, he came prepared in case you asked him to do this “test” since he’s not one to disappoint, pulling an orange peeler from his back pocket as he separated the rind from the flesh. However, if push came to shove, Vil wouldn’t be against ruining his nails or getting his hands sticky with orange juice if it meant he could show you how much he cared for you. Passes the test since he doesn’t mind getting a little messy if it means he can express his appreciation toward you through small gestures such as this.

Vil

Takes the orange from your hand to peel it for you, but will be teasing you about it the entire time. Why are you suddenly not able to peel an orange, hmm? Why didn’t you ask another one of your friends? Were you waiting specifically to ask him of all people? My, now aren’t you adorable! He technically passes the test even if he’s kind of mean about it. Keep in mind that he will bring up your strange and sudden inability to peel your orange up in the future to tease you.

Trey, Jade, Lilia

Agrees to peel the orange, but is a little curious why you picked an orange to eat for lunch since you usually preferred having one of the apples he’d bring (he even started bringing an extra one just for you). A little bit upset you didn’t want an apple today, but he peels the orange for you with only a single comment about your lackluster choice of fruit for the day. Passes the test and peels the orange with no problem, but he’s kind of disappointed you didn’t want an apple; he can peel an apple faster than he can peel an orange.

Epel

Straight up says no and that he knows you’re capable of peeling it yourself. Why would he bother getting his hands all sticky just for you to be able to eat some fruit? If you want it, you can go through the mess it takes to get past the outer rind. However, he immediately notices your shoulders sag in disappointment as you bring the fruit to your body before you begin to peel it yourself. He rolls his eyes and lets out a huff before snagging the orange from your grasp, peeling it himself before handing the fruit back to you without a word. Technically fails the test, but at least he peeled it for you after seeing how downtrodden you looked.

Ace, Leona, Jamil

Nods his head and takes the orange from your hand but, alas, he can’t even peel the orange. You both knew he wasn’t exactly the strongest or healthiest individual on campus, but neither of you thought it was this bad. After his pride is wounded and his face is a deep shade of red, you gingerly take the orange from his grasp and peel it yourself, offering him a piece of fruit in the hopes it will cheer him up. Passes the test even if he was unable to garner enough strength to actually peel the orange; he makes you promise not to tell anyone about this.

Idia

His reaction truly depends on how he’s feeling at the moment. If he’s in a bad mood, he’d either tell you no or – if someone had done something that day to really piss him off – crush and/or throw the orange. If he’s feeling a bit playful, he’d pluck it out of your hand and hold it high above your head while you pleaded for him to give you your snack back. However, if he’s in a good mood that day (and if he’s not trying to hide his slight soft spot towards you), he’d gently take it from your hand and peel the orange with ease, handing you back a perfectly peeled fruit for you to eat before asking if he could have a piece. He either fails the test exponentially or passes it with flying colors; it honestly all depends on his mood at the time.

Floyd

[reds-ultrakill-brainrot]

Hello!, I've been reading your works and i love how you depict each character, anddd I have a request for V1, V2, and Gabriel!

How would they handle a reader who is a bit more rough love (i.e; light punches, gentle shoves, snarky words but an undertone of 'hey i love you'), and tend to be a little more defensive, reason for it being.. anything you want it to be :D Also if its okay, could this be a 'read as platonic or romantic'?

Pumpkin, You're Gonna Kill Me

roughhousing reader headcanons (included; V1, V2, Gabriel)

x reader content (read platonic or romantic)

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V1 - it would take them a while to recognise your actions as affectionate, and would probably result in a bruise or two on your end (you tried punching a war machine, if anything that's your fault) - half of your snarky comments are going to be met by blank stares. while this isn't particularly productive for conversations, they like fucking with you in their own way. you never know if they are offended or if your joke flopped (it's neither, they're a little shit and abuse the fact they don't have facial features) - their genuine reaction to said comments is indifference, they aren't usually the type to be spurred on by words. if you say something with especially poor timing the most they are likely to do is to turn and give you a full body 'did you actually just say that' look - sparring will most likely become a common activity. it gives you a way to express affection in a way you're used to while giving V1 a chance to work on using only as much force as necessary. no weapons are involved on their end, but you would be free to use anything besides a gun (unless you're willing to be a blood donor) - while they were never designed with conflict management in mind (at least not the kind that doesn't involve bulllets) they aren't too bad at it. they will quickly recognise that you get defensive and give you space during conflict. quality time is usually how they comfort you, and if you're feeling particularly defensive and insecure they will offer a sparring session. they would never usually rig a fight in your favour, but giving you a few more chances to hit them usually helps cheer you up - after some time of them getting used to it rough contact will be returned, with less force to account for your squishy exterior. on the odd chance they shove you too hard or use too much force their wings will droop in an apology, that or they will give you a free shot to shove them as hard as you want - while they don't care as much about your defensiveness as some others might, it will still prompt conflict at times. if your ego or insecurity is keeping you from resolving conflict they won't give you a pass. they aren't entirely immune to negative comments, if you end up crossing a line or refusing to admit and accept your mistakes they will distance themself until you apologise V2 - they would probably match your energy, if not take it as a sign you want to spar. such aggresive physical contact is endearing to them, you could hardly hurt them even if you wanted to, so feel free to go all out

- i imagine surprise roughhousing would soon become commonplace, you full on tackling them out of nowhere with a "think fast". it's all fun and games until they do it to you, expect a couple bruises after that - any half-hearted snarky comments would be met with playful glares or a shove in return. despite their—at times—staggering ego, they aren’t particularly bothered by snide remarks, serious or not - the both of you would have a very similar way of expressing affection for eachother. while others would look on with mild shock as the both of you do your best middleschool bully impersonations, the both of you understand what lines you can and cannot cross - this would, however, backfire slightly in regards to emotional vulnerability and conflict. V2 can come off as cold or insensitive at the best of times, this is only worsened when one or the both of you are upset. they aren't particularly equipped for comfort, it will take a lot of effort on both of your parts to work through this, especiallly on V2's half - on a serious and slightly less healthy note, V2 would take advantage of your defensiveness. they know how to prod at you to provoke you. while they would normally have no reason to do so, i imagine if they are particularly annoyed at you they would fall back onto purposefully provoking you - similarly, apologies of any kind are going to be rare. a lot of your conflict resolution is going to boil down to leaving eachother alone for a while, before coming around again with an "are we cool?" Gabriel - it would take him by surprise at first. he isn't used to super casual interactions with other people yet alone anything boisterous. this will probably lead to a few miscommunications — him taking a few snarky comments as genuine insults. while he would come to understand this is how you express comfortability and closeness, he probably won't mimic or play along - even when he knows you don't really mean it, snarky comments will prompt dramatic reactions. such reactions will often be followed by a pause as he realises you weren't serious. he's embarrased every time he misses the joke, but a flustered Gabriel was most likely your goal anyway - the one time he tried to copy your behaviour he accidentaly punched you with much more force than he intended. you received one big ass bruise and a myriad of apologies afterwards - he will eventually become used to your behaviour - well, most of it. i doubt he'd ever get entirely used to that type of physical contact (light or not); he will always jump slightly if you shove or lightly punch him. he isn't scared or angered by any means, merely confused and slightly annoyed. he might understand your reasoning, but it just isn't how he acts, and as such there is always a level of disconnect - he would inevitably clash with your defensive reactions. he has a strong sense of justice and gets especially angered by lying in any form - white lies included. if you don't own up to your faults or mistakes he will be blunt about his disapproval. he won't let you get away with trying to save your ego, he'll expect you to fully apologise for any disrespectful behaviour, wether you see it as disrespectful or not - unlike the others he will eventually prompt you to explain why you act defensive. he wants to know it isn't prompted by anything he is doing. he wants you to feel comfortable with him, both physically and emotionally. he's happy to help you work on it, but most of the effort will still need to be on your end

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thank you very much for the request. as usual requests are always open - i'm thinking i might open up slots for short stories as well - but in the meantime i will take headcanons and music matches. thanks for reading

[g1rld1ary]

tell me when you're sober ; sirius black x gn!gryffindor!reader

➻ yayay my first sirius fic !!

➻ word count: 2042

➻ synopsis: drunk at a house party, sirius calls the reader and confesses something he shouldn't have

➻ warnings: mentions of alcohol & being drunk, swearing, a little angst (maybe??), happy ending, kissing, gn pronouns (lmk if I've missed any!)

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You were lying on your bed at home, content with your cozy night in. The newest Ella Fitzgerald record playing softly from the corner; a candle burning on your nightstand. You’d completed an extensive self care routine, feeling fresh, healthy and calm as you settled into your newest novel — a romance that had you dreaming of one of your closest friends.

Sirius Black was one of your best friends in the whole world. Both being Gryffindors, you had pretty much grown up together, and somewhere along the way you’d developed feelings for him against your will. But how could you not? He was beautiful, charming, and always managed to make you laugh; even the longest nights studying in the common room weren’t quite as tedious when he was hanging around — as much as you’d complain about him ‘bothering’ you. Whilst you knew he wouldn’t ever reciprocate your feelings and you would remain just friends, you were mostly content with that fact. You were filled with the type of love for him that was somewhat satisfied as long as you could express it, regardless of if it was under the guise of platonic affection. Still, that resignation didn’t stop you from imagining Sirius as the love interest in the novels you read; reciting poetry and executing grand gestures in your head.

The phone ringing down the hall brought you from your daze, and you tried to focus on the words written on the page until your mother knocked on your bedroom door, saying the call was for you. Curiously, you crawled out of bed, straightening your pyjamas as you hurried to the phone attached to the wall just outside of the kitchen.

“Hello?” You didn’t know what to expect, but your face softened to a smile when you heard the reply.

“My gorgeous y/n!” Sirius sang, consonants slightly slurred. You knew your friends were at a house party tonight, one that you’d politely declined despite Sirius’ insistence in you being there. It wasn’t your scene, and the group had organised a quieter games night at James’ place the night after, so you weren’t worried about missing too much.

“What are you doing, Black? Shouldn’t you be dancing on a table somewhere?” You teased, laughing lightly at the memory of one party you did attend, and the absolute fool Sirius had made of himself to Bennie and the Jets. He hummed in agreement.

“I was. But I wanted to talk to my favourite person — ‘ve missed you.”

“You’re seeing me tomorrow, Sirius. I’m sure you can hold on sixteen more hours?” You could practically see Sirius shaking his head no, childish pout on his lips. That was how you knew he was pretty drunk, he always got whiny and overly affectionate.

“But that’s with everyone, I miss you,” You both loved and hated when he flirted with you like this; you knew it was a joke but it still made you weak in the knees. “Tell me about your day.” You sighed, knowing that it was chatting to him or worrying about the dumb inebriated decisions he would no doubt make, so you started.

You gave him a run through of your day, sliding down the wall to be in a seated position as you realised it would probably be a long call. You told him about the summer deep clean you’d powered through and the subsequent self care night you had definitely earned. He listened intently, and you could occasionally hear him hum into the phone or interject with a one word response, just so you knew he was paying attention. You’d launched into a recap of your novel so far when you realised he hadn’t spoken in several minutes. Worrying he’d passed out or lost interest in your ramblings you tapered off.

“Sirius? You there?” He hummed an affirmation. “Oh. Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, ‘course. It’s just…” He trailed off and you frowned, holding the silence so he’d continue. “I love you.”

You sighed in relief. You two, and the rest of the friendship group, said ‘I love you’ all the time, it was never something to be apprehensive about.

“You know I love you too, Black. I’m still on the phone aren’t I?” You laughed, twirling the yellow cord around your freshly painted (but almost definitely dry) fingers. You heard him groan over the phone and faltered again.

“No, y/n. I’m fucking in love with you.”

You almost dropped the phone you were so surprised. You felt your heart beating against your chest, both in excitement and panic. He didn’t mean it, he couldn’t. Maybe Remus had broken his promise and told Sirius about your crush on him and this was all some kind of sick joke. Sirius Black was not in love with you — you had seen him grinding and making out with Marissa from the year above at the end of year party, and that was only a few weeks ago. All the possible joy that had crept into the edges of your heart was extinguished, and instead anger bloomed, spreading to the tips of your fingers, which brought the receiver back up to your face.

“Hang up and tell me when you’re sober.” With that you slammed the phone back on the wall, hot tears building behind your eyes, threatening to fall. You stumbled blindly back into your bedroom, both red hot rage and crushing sadness obscuring your vision.

Safely in bed, you let the tears fall. How dare he? You were the one who had pined after him for years, made peace with the fact that you would never hear those words out of his mouth for you, and for what? For him to rip out your heart because he was drunk and bored? Did he think it was funny? Did he even know what he was doing to you? You sobbed into the stuffed dog Sirius had given you for your last birthday, before the anger resurfaced and you launched it across the room, slamming your head into the pillow as the toy made a dull thud against the wall.

You almost didn’t go to James’ game night the next evening. You reasoned it would just be too humiliating, Sirius would crow about the girl he had hooked up with after you’d ended the call — or even worse make fun of you about the supposed confession. No, you were more than ready to call in sick and spend the night pitying yourself over a fat bowl of ice cream. However, when James called around midday begging you to bring your ‘world famous’ white chocolate brownies “And your sweet face, of course,” how could you refuse? And so you got dressed in your confidence outfit; pulling your hair into your favourite style. You needed all the help you could get today.

Standing in front of James’ door you sucked in a breath. Trying to put an easy smile on your face, it faltered when Sirius was the one to welcome you inside. He grinned when he saw you, which made the flicker of anger spark once more. How could he act like he didn’t just say he was in love with you?

“Hey everyone, y/n’s here!” He called, and you could the hear the stampede of footsteps as your friends all came out to greet you. Your smile returned involuntarily as Remus pulled you into a strong hug, which was copied by each of the girls. James, conversely, dropped to the floor in a position of worship as you presented the tray of brownies.

You all sat around the fire, chatting easily as James painstakingly set up the game of Monopoly in front of you.

“Man, I don’t remember a thing from last night,” Sirius said, reclining back in an armchair. Everyone laughed but you, and you fought with your brain to keep your features relaxed as you stared at him.

“Be grateful for that,” Lily laughed, counting out game money in piles. “You made an utter tool of yourself.”

“Yeah, rambling about Merlin knows what all bloody night; you were nonsensical,” Marlene teased and you cast your eyes down to study your fingers, picking at the already chipping polish. That’s why Sirius had acted like nothing was wrong, he didn’t even remember he’d said it. Only you were left with your whole world changed, and the bastard didn’t even have to suffer the memories of it. Suddenly you were overcome with the urge to take the beer Peter was offering you, downing half the bottle in two gulps.

“What’s got you all riled up, love?” Remus asked and you stuttered, unable of course to tell him the truth. Eyeing James’ finished set up you created a lie.

“Getting ready to dominate you all in Monopoly, duh.”

After that night, you couldn’t face Sirius. You weren’t avoiding him, per se, you could never do that. But you weren’t making any effort to see him, and you were proud of that self restraint. At dinners you’d sit next to your other friends, not looking at him unless he addressed you directly. Between classes you’d take off without waiting for him, claiming you were already stressed about the workload. Your friends could tell something was wrong, but no one could figure out what — seemingly not even Sirius.

Until one Friday night. It was unusually quiet, no parties planned or adventures to be had, and so you and your friends had taken over the Gryffindor common room, laughing and talking over the radio and the crackling of the fireplace.

“Firewhiskey, Pads?” James offered, but Sirius shook his head.

“Not tonight.” He smiled, sparing a casual glance to you. You weren’t looking at him, pretending to be engrossed in Lily’s conversation, but you couldn’t help but be slightly concerned. When did Sirius ever turn down a drink? Especially on a Friday night. You shook your head slightly, it wasn’t your problem anymore, you were still mad at him.

Eventually the night wound down, everyone heading back up to their respective dorm room one by one, tired out by the week. When you look up from the novel you’d been engrossed in for the past half hour, you were shocked by the fact that it was just you and Sirius left. Stranger than that was that Sirius wasn’t even doing anything, just staring blankly at the fire as his leg bounced aggressively.

You got up quickly, collecting your things in the attempt of a smooth escape. No such luck. Sirius stood to stop you and you stepped back carefully.

“What are you doing, Sirius?” You asked, forcefully avoiding his steely gaze.

“I’m in love with you.” You faltered, meeting his eyes to search for hidden meaning. You found none.

“What?”

“I’m in love with you, stupid. And I’m sure as hell sober right now, you can ask anyone.”

You felt your cheeks grow hot as you realised what all this meant. He had told the truth on that phone call and you had not only hung up on him, but also got mad and avoided him. Despite his feelings being more than reciprocated. The burning anger that had made a home in your stomach recently dissolved into butterflies, and a smile grew. Sirius relaxed as he saw your body language change, and chanced a tentative step towards you.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say that,” Your eyes shone in the firelight and Sirius couldn’t help but pull you closer towards him, arms wrapped around your waist.

“I thought, I mean I was worried—” You cut him off by holding his cheeks in your palms, pressing a soft kiss on his lips, one which he hungrily chased. You laughed and indulged him, the two of you holding each other carefully, lips moving slowly, exploring the other.

“Just so we’re clear,” You teased, “I’m pretty in love with you too, Black.”