#And again first time of me drawing plant life; had to really push myself to draw out the trees on Poppy's barn

[xraytheredx]

Welcome to the neighborhood~! 🏡✨

I couldn't stop myself from drawing up just the neighbors; I sprinted the whole nine yards for over a month! XD It was worth it though; I even pixelated plant life for the first time, and they came out pretty well! >u<

Would like to give a bit of thanks to @carnivalcarrion for pointing out some hidden details that I wouldn't have thought to look for, especially in the bodega! (Check out their rant about it, and all their awesome art while you're at it! https://www.tumblr.com/carnivalcarrion/727782616285249536/x)

[mustainegf]

really passionate loving sex with 1994 James

but you end up getting really emotional because no one has ever loved you like he has and he just worships you and tells you he loves you over and over again

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 ¹⁹⁹⁴

One moment before, I had looked at James, the soft light of the lamp on his features glittered in his face. Sharp, but incredibly warm, his eyes were wholly fastened on mine. The way he would look at me would always quicken my heartbeat. That wasn't about wanting him far more than that he sees me, every inch of me, and he accepts it.

He snatched my hand, pulling me closer. His touch was firm yet so soft, and cold chills trickled down my spine. Every time he touched me, I felt I was standing in the safest place on Earth. "You are so beautiful," he whispered in a low, awed tone, as if to say that he could not believe I really was here with him.

Nobody has ever looked at me the way James does, as if he sees something amazing in me that I am not even aware exists. Every time he says those words, it is like he chips away at the concrete wall I have built around myself. Always so cautious, never really letting someone into my life, James, he can break down all my walls without even trying.

His lips, soft and cold, hit against mine, so filled with emotion. I went limp in his arms, soaking into his love as his hands wrapped themselves around me, tracing every little detail of my being, but not in haste. James would take his sweet time, he would make sure I feel every bit of his appreciation for each second that was being shared. Drawing back, his breath danced along my skin, his voice whispering, "I love you. I love everything about you."

It's like my heart was beating, just this big ball inside my throat. nobody had ever said anything like that to me before and meant it like he did. I could tell really in every word and really even his eyes that he wasn't saying that to help my mood. He really means it, and that's the difference. I swallowed hard, trying to maintain my self control, but it really began to grow really impossible.

His lips planted a trail of kisses down my neck, his hands slid lower and touched me in a way that had me closer to him than I had ever been. He didn't just want me, he wanted to adore me. The heat came between us, love and desire curled in the air. And with that came everything else, evidence of something heavier inside me that hadn't broken free for ages.

His fingers moved softly and understandingly over me, and the gasp that slipped through my lips was inevitable. It wasn't the pleasure that hit me like a ton of bricks but everything, the look in his eyes, his fingertips upon my skin, the way he loved me, had never remotely felt anything like that before, and that was almost too much to bear.

"I've got you," he whispered, his lips against my ear. "I'm here. You're okay..."

Tears welled inside my eyes, and, having tried to blink them away, they just trickled on, one after another. I didn't really know why I was crying. Maybe it was because I had never felt loved like this before. Maybe it was because for the first time in my life I actually feel like someone really sees me, or maybe it was just because finally I let myself think I actually deserved it.

James had picked it up pretty much instantaneously. He pulled back an inch or two, hands falling slack in their holding of my face, his thumb catching the tear as it fell. "Hey, hey… what's up?" he asked softly, sounding really worried. "You alright?

I nodded, but somehow words wouldn't pass my lips. They were stuck in my throat, too large and heavy to push out. I felt like I was gonna fall apart with all that pressure. But then he kissed me again, nice and slow, and from nowhere, everything suddenly did feel a bit easier.

"It's okay..." he whispered against my lips. "You don't have to say anything. I'm here."

I breathed out shakily, my body shaking at his touch, I couldn't fathom, how he could love me that much. No person had ever done that with me. It was super intense in all the best ways, and it freaked me out a little. What if I wasn't enough? What if I couldn't be what he needed?

"Do you still want to do this?" he whispered, unsure if sex was the right thing while I was in tears. But I nodded, needing this, needing him.

He leaned in closer and said, low and smooth, "You're perfect... you're mine..."

His hands moved again, slow and steady, as if taking all his sweet time to show me that he cared. I felt him push past me, stretching and rubbing from the inside. Every touch and every kiss was just so filled with love, and I could feel it totally run through me. It wasn't about the physical stuff anymore, this was far deeper. My body reacted to him in ways I couldn't even handle, and I could feel myself start to come apart.

"You are so beautiful," he moaned softly, the warmth of his breath upon my skin. "You have no idea how much I love you."

A gasp escaped my lips as the pleasure mounted inside my belly, but the emotion was there too, it was as if the two intertwined, not to be separated. I had never felt this vulnerable, yet it felt right with James. I didn't need to hide anything from him. He took all of me, the good, the bad, and everything in between.

I wasn't going to last long, especially after his teasing, and now his slow strokes as he fit snug inside me.

I just couldn't bottle it anymore. It was like it hit me hard, and I felt this crazy release that had me all shaking. My body was all tensed up, then it was like everything came falling down on me all at once, like the tide coming to the shore. It was so much stronger than anything I'd ever felt, I couldn't stop the tears streaming down.

My legs violently shook as I whimpered and came, liquid gushing out of me and onto him and the sheets.

James held me through it, speaking softly into my ear, hellos of love and hellos of encouragement as I shook beneath him. "That's it," he whispered softly. "Let go. I've got you. You're safe with me..."

His voice brought me right back, he pulled me out of all those crazy feelings. My body was getting cold, yet the tears wouldn't stop flowing. Not sad tears, tears of relief, finally releasing into my body all the hurt and fear that I had stored in it for ages.

Finally, I opened up my eyes to find James staring at me with this sweet look that just totally tore at my heart. "I love you," he whispered, giving my forehead a soft kiss. "More than you'll ever know."

For the first time ever, I actually believed it. I let this shaky breath out and finally managed to find my voice.

"I love you too," I whispered in return, my voice all choked. James smiled and tucked that stray strand of hair behind my head.

"You mean the world to me," he said, this time quite seriously.

With a gentle kiss on the forehead, James pulled out very slowly, a whimper slipping past my lips at the sensitive feeling.

"I'm so proud of you..."

[what-a-strange-creature--moved]

A Dying Fire - Chapter 1

Bella x Jacob | AU - Post-Apocalypse, AU - Fantasy, witch!Bella, BPOV Chapter Word Count: 2,824 | Rating: M/18+ Chapter Content Warning: none Story Content Warning: Violence, sexually explicit scenes, kidnapping Summary: Growing up in a dangerous, ruined world, the only things Bella Swan has ever trusted are her life with her mother and the meager bits of magic she can perform around their house. The confines of her life hurt her sometimes, but she realized long ago that there's nothing she can do about it. How could she ever find someone to mentor her in magic when that would mean sacrificing her domestic responsibilities? How could she allow herself to truly fall for the only man she's ever loved if it meant leaving home forever? When Bella is hit with a sudden chance to see the world and use her magic for good, what lengths will she go to to prove herself? When she is pushed to her limit, what kind of witch will Bella become? A/N: Well... what started out as a one-shot with a little too much lore to explain has now become a duology of several thousand words. I've been very excited to share this story after a few weeks of planning and drafting. I'll post chapter two on Wednesday and a new chapter will be posted every other Wednesday after that until all eight chapters are up. If you enjoy this first chapter, please please please let me know! It really means a lot when I get feedback from readers. Happy reading! 💘🔥

Read on AO3

‧₊˚✧┈. *₊˚

Excerpt below

If I know anything about magic, it is that it requires true, singular focus. I press my hands into the dirt of my garden, my fingertips digging in until my nails disappear, and I cast my touch beneath the earth. I search for the maple tree’s roots. It recently left its adolescent phase, winter-bare like the other deciduous trees surrounding it, but I don’t think it’s growing anymore. I stare hard at its smooth, gray-brown trunk as I focus, willing my touch to reach those tender subterranean veins. I imagine it will be like checking a pulse. I hope it’s exactly like that, for my sake. I need to practice my stronger spells on something, but I refuse to harm a living tree. This world can’t afford it.

Tendrils of my magic snake through the soil, and like always they go in any direction they choose. I can feel the root systems of my lettuce and potatoes, growing strong in neat, modest rows behind me. I feel each plant sucking up water and nutrients in their fragile capillaries.

I stare harder at the tree, my unwitting adversary, and dig my fingers deeper, forward. Nothing. Just soil.

Maybe I’m too far back from the tree. It has to be more than twenty feet tall, and when I picture bringing it down, I can only imagine pulling toward myself, so I want to give it enough room to land at my feet. Maybe I just need to get closer.

And yet, I thought maples had wide root systems. Maybe I was wrong.

‘Maybe’ is starting to become a very unpleasant word for me.

This would be easier if I had a mentor, I think ruefully, and a familiar ache blooms in my chest. But now isn’t the time to berate myself.

I unearth my heads, clapping the dirt off of them, and get a few paces toward the tree. Then I dig in again, the short grass irritating my palms.

This time, the tendrils brush against something new, something stringy. I eagerly push my hands deeper. I even curl my index finger as if to wrap it around the thing. It is one of the maple’s farthest roots, closer to the tree than I expected it to be. As I cradle it, I can’t feel it draw in the sustenance around it. No movement. No life.

“Okay, okay, okay,” I mumble to myself, a grin growing on my face. Now it’s time to do some real magic.

I stumble back a couple of steps, getting into position. I kick off my shoes and take a sturdy stance — I don’t know if feeling the dirt is necessary for this part, but I know staying upright will be.

A gentle breeze rustles the woods around me. Birdcalls make the air feel alive. Though I know home is only a few yards away, concealed by some trees and ferns, I feel alone in the world. It’s a peaceful feeling, as if the earth is cradling me. As if I grew from it. In many ways, I have.

With renewed confidence, I stare the maple down. If it’s not dead yet, it will die soon enough. It stands in a suspended life-state now, a twilight existence.

“I have you,” I whisper as I raise my dirt-covered hands.

Read the rest on AO3

[simba112995]

Hey! No, you got the numbers right!

I'm Simba112995,

(not proof reading, you're not worth my time, but you are worth this message)

I'm now 28 years old, and I found this post while talking to my partner about how I was relentlessly bullied by so many of you over at TLKFAA while visiting them for a convention.

I didn't grow up in a loving home. Being autistic didnt help making friends at school either. Not going to go into it but I was heavily abused, the kind adults dont usually escape alive. The Lion King was one of my autistic fixations. I felt happy watching it and not many things did that to me growing up. Most of my life, I wanted to die. The first time I ever attempted to end my own life I waa 6. I wasn't allowed outside unless I snuck out or got lucky. I wasn't allowed to see friends outside of school and church. Add to that. I didn't really have friends because I was a weird kid. I confided in the internet like most do for an escape. TLKFAA seemed like it was gonna give me some form of hope. Lmfao no

You guys were some of the worst bullies I ever dealt with. You guys didnt want me off the site, you guys wanted me dead. You guys PLEADED for me to kill myself and would BEG me to everyday on Sketcher. I literally just didnt know how to make friends. You all seemed so cool to me. I was slammed with slurs, death threats, HATE ART, I recived actual letters in my mail threatening my life, my parents would get emails from random people doing just the same which would lead to my mom beating me with the brass end of a leather braided belt. Sometimes I'd be put outside with no clothes on and made to stand up in tempatures below freezing.

And you know what was EXTREMELY disgusting about it all? I was fucking 10-12 and you guys would acknowledge that and STILL would push.

YOU ALL FOUND IT ALRIGHT TO GASLIGHT A CHILD THAT THE ONLY WAY TO END THE BULLYING WAS BY TAKING MY LIFE.

And you know what? I actually did end up trying several times and failed because of you all. I use to pray to God that he would kill me because he messed up putting me on this planet. No one wanted me. Not even my own family. I had no friends, and everywhere I went I was just told to kill myself. Felt like an even bigger disappointment every time I failed because of you all. I'm so glad I failed. I've achieved dreams you all wanted to see fail for all of yalls amusement.

Erased Sketcher art? You all would erase mine! Would spend HOURS and Naz, Kaz(¿) and they're friends would erase mine. So, I erased yalls! Anytime I'd draw something it's get erased. I recall putting a peice of art on my DA back in the day bc I was SOOO happy one of yall would talk to me. Whenever I posted anything about how much I loved TLK, you all would just make fun of me!

And with buying a lion? For fuck sake I was TEN.YEARS.OLD. I'm 28 now. No, I do not have any intentions of buying a big cat. Ever. I got to help watch over 1 lion, and 2 tigers in an emergency situation where someone had to run off and I was legit the only person there. Incredibly irresponsible for the now closed rescue, but it was 18 years ago. The girl just sprinted away and said "watch them and dont leave", so I did. I don't fucking know why they did it, but they let me! No one believed me and thought I was trolling and I get that. Sounds like bs. But even if I was lying, which I wasn't, I was 10. But, that one moment planted an idea I'd own and be helping big cats! Again. I'm 28, no I'm not buying and fucking big cats I can hardly afford to live anyhow in this crippling economy. Plus, I dont support any of that minus legitmate rescues in safe, appropriate facilities getting the care they need.

I also remember once I wanted a white tiger with blue stripes as an OC, and you all hammered on to me because I was inspired by anither artist who drew a tiger with blue stripes. Again, followed by messages to kill myself.

I'm so glad I found this post. For years I've told people how bad you guys made my adolescent life when I was just trying to find a place to fit in. I did find that in the furry fandom, which I was also apart of then, and am even more active in now. I found a family there.

Whoever you were back then, I hope you have the life you deserve. Maybe you changed. I forgave those who bullied me ESPECIALLY on that site so I could move forward in life. I will NEVER forget you monsters. I would love to ask you questions on why you guys thought it'd be funny to make a 10-12 year old attempt to kill themselves! But if you aren't mature enough, that's understandable given how you acted.

Fuck you,

Simba112995

What exactly makes TLKFAA so special compared to DeviantArt? I understand it's for TLK-exclusive art and they do contests and all, but what's different about it? What's wrong with just posting the stuff to DA? To an outsider (not the SP ones) looking in, it might make the fandom look more obsessive than it is if they have a whole website dedicated to just fan art for the movies.

It’s where I started in the TLK fandom making it my first fandom home. Sure you’ve got your asshole drama queens and attention whores faking dying for pity parties but it’s very friendly there. I guess it might look like an obsessed fandom but it really isn’t. I haven’t run into any TLK obsessed fans there except for this one that called him Simba112995 (I think I got the numbers right). He might’ve been a troll but he was a huge pain in the ass, coloring over other people’s art when they were drawing in Sketcher, an online drawing board where people can talk and sketch and collaborate. He also claimed he was going to buy himself a lion just because he could and he pissed off the entire group of us there with his selfishness. And I think he was the same person that screamed at me for shooing my kitty out of my computer room because how are I kick a cat out of any room at all and how dare I save money from having him chew up my computer wires! But other than that child whom I hope has matured over the years, it’s really calm and peaceful. 

[devildomdisaster]

Idk if you read Lore Olympus but chapter 129 gave me an angsty request idea.

So Persephone, who’s the goddess of spring, goes into a hibernation-like state and when her emotions go out of control, she ends up growing her hair really long and her body sprouts a lot of plants from her; to the point of covering her and whatever area she’s in with her plants.

So I would like to request head cannons of the Brothers reacting to an MC who gets really sad whenever the brothers insult or threaten them and after several weeks of being berated by demons it causes MC to shut down and go to their room but mistakes a comfort spell with a plant curse that causes their hair and plants to grow continuously long. The plants fill up MC’s room and while they would normally be surprised at the mistake, they don’t care any more. They allow the plants to to grow, even wrap around their neck and body, and hopes the curse kills them off before the brothers notice as they go in the “hibernation” stage of the curse (The curse causes the victim to grow a lot of plants and vines from their body until they die, which can take a few days).

I’m sorry for being so long and descriptive, I just wanna see the Bros panic and feel guilty that MC felt pushed to do this to themselves but I understand if you don’t want to do it

I don't read Lore Olympus but you described the situation really well so I hope this is something close to what you wanted.

Comfort spell gone wrong

Lately, nothing seemed to be good enough for the demons. No matter what you did one of them would find something to berate you for.

“Mc, your grades are subpar even for an exchange student. You’ll have to try harder in order to not be a disappointment to Diavolo and myself.” Lucifer warned over breakfast.

“Mc, you burned dinner. You should learn to be a better cook.” Beel grumbled. As if you had ever seen any of these ingredients before ending up in the Devildom.

Even Mammon seemed to be in a particularly unpleasant mood. A never-ending string of complaints about how hard it is to protect an ordinary human. “Geez, you’re such a hassle human.”

Taking refuge in the library to study and to give Mammon a break from you proved disastrous and nearly deadly. Somehow you’d managed to spill your cup of tea all over an old somewhat rare text after Asmo had barged in and startled you. Your string of bad luck continued when Satan rounded the corner and saw the soggy tea-stained pages you’d been trying to decipher. In his fit of rage, he’d called you several unpleasant names and asked if you were “capable of doing anything right or if all humans are as stupid as you?” You’d left as quickly as you were able to avoid any more of his wrath.

No matter where you went you kept walking in on Belphie napping and without fail he’d say something nasty to you, that would make tears burn the backs of your eyes.

Levi had angrily called you a “useless normie,” who he wished would “never come back.” and had pushed you from his room with a slam of his door.

Even Asmo who usually just ignored you when he was upset found every reason imaginable to critique your every aspect. Physical and personality. Not a single one of which made you feel any more than worthless.

So was it any wonder when at the end of a long week you’d locked yourself in your room and decided to try that comfort spell you’d heard Solomon talking about? It seemed simple enough. But then your tears had blurred your vision as you’d recited the words and your Latin was still shaky at best. But it was just a few lines! And there was no way you were going to go to one of the brothers for comfort when they had seemed perfectly happy to make you miserable for the last few weeks.

You’d read the spell aloud and curled up hoping that the spell would kick in and you’d feel even just the slightest bit better. The blinding green light and sudden drop in energy was the first and only warning the spell had gone wrong. But being new to magic meant it still sapped your energy, so you didn’t stop to think something might be wrong. By the time you realized what was happening, everything was out of control. Plants had begun to sprout from your skin and the floor around you, growing and growing. With each inch they grew you felt your exhaustion creep up and consume you. You were just so tired. Your eyes fluttered closed. This was wrong! You forced your eyes open again. You need to fix this. The spell! But a short nap wouldn’t hurt, would it? You’d have more energy after you woke up. Then you could go get one of the brothers. Satan would know how to fix this. Or Lucifer! He’d clean the spell up easily. Yes, after you woke up…

Lucifer hadn’t seen you all weekend. He figures you’re most likely studying. But you don’t show up for meals and none of his brothers have seen you either… and oh Diavolo! He can feel the spell from the dining room. How did he not notice sooner? The cold pulling sensation of the spell, like it was sucking the warmth and life from its surroundings.

When Lucifer reaches your door Mammon is already there. Knocking and shouting for you, but there's no answer. He all but breaks your door down, his brothers behind him, and finds you at the center of the spell. Unresponsive and covered in the plants using your energy to grow. The plants had begun climbing up the walls and twisting through your hair, sending out snow-white flowers.

“Beel! Don’t!” Lucifer warns as Beel reaches out to pull a handful of plants from you. “We don’t know what did this and what will happen to Mc if we just rip the spell off like that.”

“Lucifer, Mc did this to themself,” Satan points to the open spellbook. “It looks like they got a comfort spell mixed up.”

Fortunately, your last tired thoughts were correct and Lucifer is able to break the spell quickly. You wake surrounded by the brothers.

Lucifer:

All this happened for a comfort spell? Because you didn’t feel like you could come to him, to any of them?

He’s so sorry Mc. Enough that as he leans down to pick you up out of the mess of withering plants you can feel tears fall onto your face.

“Nothing I did was good enough for you Lucifer. Any of you. I just wanted to feel… I just wanted-”

His heart breaks when he realizes this is his brother’s fault, his fault. “You are always good enough, Mc. Much more than I could ever ask you to be, and if I ever made you feel like you weren't. No, the fact that I made you feel like you weren’t, means I have been truly terrible.”

You’re choking back your own tears now and you curl further into his arms as he carries you down the hall. “You said I was a disappointment.”

“My dear Mc, you have never been, nor could you ever be a disappointment to me. Forgive me for ever making you feel as if you were.”

Lucifer takes you to his bathroom and draws you a bath to wash away the last of the plant matter from your body.

Afterward, he’ll bring you anything you ask for. He wants to wrap you in his arms but doesn’t want to push you, so he asks softly if he can hold you.

He’ll spend weeks trying to make this up to you, even after you forgive him, he’ll be sure to tell you how much he loves you more often than he did before.

Mammon:

Shit human! Why didn’t you come to him? He loves you so much and oh. He made you feel like a burden.

How could he be so stupid when he knows how his brothers make him feel?

Mammon begs for your forgiveness in front of all his brothers.

“Please can ya forgive me? I never meant to make ya feel like a burden. You're the only human I- I want to protect you Mc. I’m so sorry.”

Mammon helps you up and since your room is covered in plants he offers to let you sleep in his room for the night.

He wraps you in blankets and brushes the hair from your face with trembling fingertips.

There are still a few stubborn leaves sticking to your face and in your hair so Mammon takes a warm washcloth and wipes them from your face before gently untangling the plants from your hair.

You’ll be getting little gifts and tokens of mammon’s affections for the foreseeable future.

Levi:

He threw you out of his room when you came to him for comfort and the guilt at seeing you almost die because of it is eating him alive.

He feels frozen

Maybe you would be better off without an otaku shut-in like him. He starts avoiding you like the plague.

You start to think that Levi is so disgusted with the fact that you did that spell that he doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore.

Despite this Levi still checks up on you. He wants to know that you are ok, he just does it without you knowing.

He’ll ask his brothers about you and discreetly glance at you during meals to make sure you’re eating enough and look healthy.

A few days later when your favorite and manga anime start showing up outside your door you confront Levi. “Are you mad at me? Do you just not want to be around me after what happened? Levi, I miss you!”

He is shook, and he can’t believe he messed up so badly.

He’s happy that he can invite you to hang out again, and he makes sure to spend long nights gaming or watching movies with you until you fall asleep against him. He’ll even stutter out how much he treasures his time with you, blushing fiercely all the while.

Satan:

Satan feels anger swell up inside him. How could he have let this happen? How could no one have seen how upset you were?

Once the spell has been dissolved he is at your side instantly. Brushing vines from your skin. His fingers are shaking in anger but his touch is so gentle.

When both you and your room are cleaned up Satan sits at your bedside, book in hand, reading to you.

He just wants to be close to you now. He wants you to know how much he cares about you but is still too worked up to get his thoughts out properly.

Eventually, his thoughts calm and he stops reading in the middle of a sentence. “Mc, I am so sorry. I never meant to make you feel unwanted. Every day I spend with you is infinitely better than a day without you. I know the spell was a mistake but… we almost lost you. I almost lost you.”

He wants to talk about what pushed you to do this. He won’t push but he really does think that he will be better able to help you if he understands.

Satan makes sure to spend more time with you from now on. He makes a conscious effort to check his temper at the door and be with you when you need him.

Sometimes he’ll just read to you until one of you confides in the other in quiet voices.

Asmo:

As you blink your eyes open Asmo gently brushes some plants from your cheek.

You are so pale and his heart breaks as you flinch away from him. You feel like a mess and you know you must look like one too so curl your body away from him trying to hide. Trying to avoid his critical gaze.

This is the moment Asmo knows he screwed up.

He draws his hand back, for a moment, before reaching out to you again. Cupping your cheek and wiping your tears away with perfectly manicured hands.

Lucifer has him take you to his bathroom to clean up while the rest of the brothers work to clear the plants from your room.

Asmo is quiet for a long while as he untangles plants from your hair.

“You’re so loved, Mc,” he says softly. “You are.” he insists when you shake your head no.

“More than you could ever know, and it’s our fault for not telling you. My fault for not making you feel worthy.”

After this incident, Asmo wants to make sure you know how beautiful you are. He starts self-care days once a week that soon turn into whole family affairs. Each week different combinations of his brother attend and you all work to pamper each other.

Asmo makes sure nothing like this happens again, he never wants to be part of the reason you feel unloved ever again.

Beel:

At first, Beel thinks you did this on purpose. Once the brothers realize you messed up the spell he is less angry but no less distraught.

Once you wake up, he wants to take you to get desserts. He’s heard humans eat Chocolate/ other sweets to feel better. And this makes sense to him, food does make everything better.

But you don’t want to go to Madam Screams or the kitchen to make your own. You’re still so tired. Not to mention embarrassed that you screwed the spell up this bad.

And now they are all staring at you like they care so much when none of them had any time to notice how they were making you feel before.

When you become unresponsive to the brother’s questions and apologies Beel scoops you up in his arms and walks away with you.

Something about the way he holds you close to his chest and his warmth causes you to finally let go.

You bury your face in his shirt to muffle your crying.

“I just… I felt so alone! And… I...but no one” you gasp out shakily between sobs.

Beel soothes you with soft murmuring as he gently cards his fingers through your hair and strokes down your back.

Once your crying quiets he starts to speak “Don’t do that again. You can always come to me Mc. I’m so sorry you felt like you couldn’t”

Belphie:

Belphie thinks it’s a joke at first. “Man, how could they mess up this bad?”

Then he sees Lucifer’s panicked expression and it hits him how serious this is.

Belphie is immediately by your side. Hands frantically feeling your wrist for a pulse.

After Lucifer breaks the spell and your eyes flutter open Belphie is filled with relief until a wave of guilt washes through him.

He can’t believe he fucked up so badly again. Sure this time he didn’t directly cause you physical harm, but he did play a role in causing you to almost die again.

“I am so very sorry Mc, I never meant to hurt you.”

He does everything he can think of to make it up to you. Anything you ask him for, as long as it’s within his power, is yours. No questions asked.

He asks permission just to hold your hand for weeks afterward as if he thinks you’ll come to your senses and decide you don’t want anything to do with him.

He wants to comfort you so bad.

To make sure you don’t feel like this again Belphie pulls you away to nap with him as often as he can get away with it. Most likely only a few times a week (much less often than he would like). Sometimes he uses this time just to talk with you. Others you really do nap, and Belphie curls himself around you. Occasionally he enters your dreams while you nap together to make sure no nightmares can touch you.

[michelle-is-writing]

Family Matters, Greg House

Word count: 1.7k~

In the time I’ve worked at Princeton-Plainsboro teaching hospital, some might say I'm the bubbly doctor in our group. Although I don’t know how true this might be, I do know everyone can agree I'm definitely more bubbly than doctor Gregory House, but that's for another day to discuss. I'm usually the one people send in to try and cheer up patients. Because of this, I mostly work in the pediatrics ward where young, sick children are. Sometimes, I have an easy time talking to the kids and making them happier, and sometimes, I don't; usually, when I'm upset, I have a hard time.

Right now, I'm having a very difficult time.

A young New Jersey girl at the age of 11 had developed mastoiditis, an infection that affects the mastoid bone above the ear and is typically caused by a middle ear infection. Usually, this all clears up, but sadly, this infection had grown to be so bad that the girl ended up with only twenty-three percent of her hearing left in the one ear. Although this is the case, I'm not having a hard time because of the girl's loss of hearing, no.

I have my own problems at the moment.

Since I'm working in the children's ward, I don't get to see Wilson or Greg as much as I want to. Despite Greg's tendency to be an asshole, he's still my best friend and not to mention that Wilson is the kind of guy anyone can talk to about anything. However, our schedules are all different, so, as I said: we don't get to see each other that often.

At least they're still in my life though. For my family, I can’t say the same. Recently, I've just lost the closest person to me in my family; although it wasn’t through death, but through immaturity and childishness. Because of this, all of my other family members have closed me out as well, causing me to be alone. With all of my friends busy and my family shutting me out, I have no one to talk to or enjoy time with... no one. I can't even get a boyfriend for Christ's sake, and it's not like the guy I have my eyes on actually likes me back. Greg is the type of guy you can easily fall in love with, yet at the same, you really shouldn't.

"Doctor (y/n)," the young girl by the name of Jessie states. Putting all my focus back on her, I remind myself not become distracted anymore today. This isn’t the first time, unfortunately. "Will my hearing ever return?"

I smile sadly at her and shake my head. "I'm sorry, Jessie," I tell her. "Your hearing in that ear won't return, but it's not a bad thing!" I assure her. She smiles in relief. "We can always get you a hearing aid, and that will help get your hearing back to normal again, but the wait might be a little long," I explain. "Is that okay with you?"

She nods her head at my question. "I'm okay with that, doctor (Y/n)," Jessie tells me, "I'll have my family help me until then," she smiles brightly. "You can always look up to your family, right?" She states, confident in her words.

Tears slowly rising to my eyes at the thought, I nod and quickly blink them away. "That's right," I tell her, still smiling. "And don't you ever forget it," looking toward her parents, I nod my head. "The discharge nurse will be here in a few moments with the papers. If you'll excuse me..."

Without another word, I quickly leave the room and walk as fast as I can to the nearest empty room. I prefer going to James’ office instead, but it's two floors away, and I don't want any awkward elevator trips. So, before I have a mental breakdown in the middle of the hallway, I find an unlocked janitorial closet before walking in and closing the door behind me, ultimately sliding down the hardwood door once it's shut.

Sitting on the cold, tile floor, I begin sobbing as quiet as I can, my hand covering my mouth. I already had my family drama on my mind all day, but for that girl to unintentionally throw it back in my face? That was the frosting on top of the already leaning, three-layer cake.

Tears stream down my cheeks like raindrops as I cry my heart out. I can tell my cheeks are red by the sensation of heat I currently feel on them; my hands feel it too. I'm crying so hard my chest begins to heave up and down as if I were having a panic attack. Oh God, I can't have a panic attack. Not here, not now.

Behind me, I feel two knocks on the door, causing me to halt. The only problem is: the knock wasn't above me, it was where my back is against the door. Remind you, I'm currently sitting on the floor. The only way someone can knock that low is if there is a midget behind the door there or someone used something like a cane... it's Greg.

Slowly moving up a little, I shakily open the door and let the grey haired man in, watching as he looks at me with pity. I've never seen the confident doctor House look like this with anyone. It's like a... a totally different Greg.

Sitting down beside me against the door, Greg drops his cane beside him as he sighs and wraps his arm around me before gently tugging my body close to his. Shocked, I tense up, tears no longer pouring out of my eyes. Greg never comforts anyone like this. He always makes fun of them or says something that many people take offense to, but he never... he never cares. He always brushes it off his shoulder, yet for some reason, he seems like he actually cares this time.

"What's wrong?" He asks, his voice deep as usual with no emotion.

I wait a few seconds before lying. "Nothing important," I tell him, my voice wavering from my scattered emotions.

Pulling me back to face him, Greg looks me in the eye before sighing again. "I know you've been crying by the wet tears on your cheeks, slight puffiness, and redness to your eyes, and fast-paced breathing - and I don’t even have to be a doctor to notice that," he breaks down my current state, lifting an eyebrow. "Now, are you going to begrudgingly tell me what's wrong or do I need to stay in here with you until you finally give in to all my unrelenting sexiness."

His comment makes me laugh, causing a grimace of a smile to fall on House's lips. Out of all of us, I've been the only one to do that. I've been the only one to break Greg's stone exterior and interior. Plus, It doesn't help that I like Greg romantically. I like the fact that he's confident and witty; he's not afraid to be himself. Although, he can still be quite an ass to others, but to me, he’s always been nothing but kind. Even when I first started working here, he was still patient and sweet - a rare sight to everyone else. It used to hurt me to think he’ll never feel the same way as me, but I’ve gotten so used to that fact that it doesn’t even bother me anymore.

"It's just... my family," I explain, Greg pushing my head back onto his shoulder as he holds me. At this point, I'm not shocked by anything he does. The infamous doctor could be high for all I know. He probably took a few Vicodin tablets before coming down here now that I think of it.

"They've completely... shut me out," I explain, shrugging as I rest my hand on his shoulder. "They never talk to me anymore, they've blocked me in any way of even trying to talk to them. My cousin just sent me an email last night telling me that I didn't need to contact them anymore as they no longer wanted me in their lives," I close my eyes, tears rolling down my cheeks. "Plus, I wish I could work with you guys again," I take a breath before saying the next thing. "I miss you."

A few seconds of silence pass before Greg leans down to my face level. Opening my eyes, I'm greeted by his own sapphire orbs, watching as he continually inches forward until his lips plant themselves on mine. Our eyes close at the same time in response to the touch of our lips, and they stay that way too. With my heart beating fast and a different fire in my cheeks, I instantly respond to his kiss while placing my hands on the sides of his face, feeling his hands attach themselves to my hips as I do so. We kiss until we have to breathe, both of us pulling apart simultaneously.

"They don't deserve you," Greg tells me, a little out of breath. "You are wonderful; a decent and kind human being, inside and out," he takes a small pause, flashing his blue eyes down to mine. "I never thought I’d say this, but… because of you, I think maybe not everyone is a horrible person and that maybe I can be a bit nicer a time or two," he then smiles at me, kissing me once more. "You have made me feel love believe it or not."

Smiling, I lean up to kiss his forehead before sitting back down and resting my head against his chest, my eyes cast upon him as he looks down at me. "You've also made me feel love," I confess to him, my voice shy. "I've grown to love you as well. You and your sarcastic comments and witty comebacks and your insults to apparent stupid people," for once, he laughs, making me grin. "I can't help but love it all."

After a few moments, Greg speaks up. "I know I can't be your entire family," he murmurs, holding me close. "But I can try to be your... your..." He draws on, clearly trying to come up with an appointed title for himself. After a few seconds, I giggle and cut him off.

"Boyfriend?" I ask, making him roll his eyes.

"I was going to say significant other," he argues, looking over to me. "The term boyfriend is so, well, childish," he complains, making me giggle.

Leaning closer, I peck his lips. "Good thing you have a childish mind," I tease him, pressing my lips to his one more time before he responds to my comment with something horrible or completely inappropriate. It is Doctor House we’re talking about, after all.

[melo-yello]

💤Can’t Sleep💤 w/ 💥🪨KiriBaku🪨💥 HeadCanons

Pairing(s): KiriBaku X black!reader, Eijirou Kirishima X Katsuki Bakugou X black!reader

A/N: fluff and ANGST. Like lots of ANGST. I had a rough week and honestly not very much sleep. What can I say. Sue me, I wanna hug and somebody to watch a movie with.

💤💥🪨 Lay on your stomach opening and closing your eyes as you try and convince yourself to sleep. Kirishima snores softly with an arm around Bakugou’s waist. He’s been pretty stressed lately so he gets to be middle spoon. Baku in turn has an arm draped over your shoulders.

💤💥🪨 The soft and peaceful looks on the boys’ faces are nothing but safe and warm and reassuring . Yet here you are unavailable to close your eyes long enough to drift off to sleep. Each time you close your eyes your heart attempts to tear a whole through your chest. The dim red light of the clock reads 2:56 as you slip out of Baku’s embrace for a glass of water

💤💥🪨 You settle on Jasmine tea instead. Quietly pulling a the kettle from the cabinet and turning on the tap just before placing it on the stove. You busy yourself in your phone in order to banish any form of thought from your head. Soon just blankly browsing through TikToks as you wait for the water to boil

💤💥🪨 The hair on the back of your neck stands at attention as you hear heavy footsteps and the creaking of the bedroom door. Short angry grumbles are traded with deep groggy grunts as the footsteps close in on your position. You glance up to see the time is now 3:22 and you hear the kettle whistling for the first. Mostly likely what woke your boyfriends to begin with. You scowl at the kettle.

💤💥🪨 “fuck you.” you curse under your breath snatching up the kettle to quiet it’s shouting as the two set of red eyes fix on you in the dim light of kitchen. Kiri’s long red hair pulled back into a messy plat, and Baku’s fluffy ash blonde sticking out in all directions except for the right side flatten to the side of his skull

💤💥🪨 “Oí, Chuchu Soul, do you have any idea what time it is?!!” Baku squints tiredly placing a hand on his hip. “That’s actually a good one.” You giggle surprised by his creativity. “I know right?! And they used to call him uncreative.” Kirishima smirks between a yawn. “ Well?” Bakugou’s features don’t change. More likely mad that he’s awake at this ungodly hour than anything else. “Was it another panic attack, Pebble?” Kiri questions walking to rest his hand on your lower back. You don’t acknowledge his soft gesture and busy yourself with pouring the newly hot water into your large mug with it’s awaiting tea bag.

💤💥🪨 “Run that shit back, Eiji?!? When was this?” Bakugou’s foggy apathetic sleepiness raises to concerned confusion . You curse under your breath for the third time tonight. Kiri racks his tired brain for an explanations as he trades tired glances between the temperamental blonde and the vaguely suspicious one blowing at tea. “Pebble you didn’t tell him about Friday Night?” He frowns looking down at you. “...i forgot...” you whisper sipping the overly hot tea and burning your tongue. Hell you wouldn’t have told him either, but he was right beside you when it happened.

💤💥🪨 That Friday night. You couldn’t speak. You stood in a dark room. Small and cramped. No windows. No doors. Just glowing ink on one wall in barely legiable font. Prove It. As soon as you touched the lettering it went blood red and the water began to pool at your feet. You begin to lose your composure trying to find an exit. In seconds the water is at your waist. Then your neck. Then the ceiling. Like that you’re choking and sputtering trying to find. The walls go translucent. Larger than life figures with unmistakable silhouettes and Pro hero customs hold your box in each hand. You bang tight fists to gain their attention. Your blood mixes with the water and you could barely breath. You thrashed across the sheets desperately trying to snatch yourself from your current nightmare. Suddenly Kiri shaking you awake and he’s coaching you into breathing again.

💤💥🪨 The memory of utter helplessness washes over you all over again. You sigh in frustration as tears pool at the corner of your eyes. “Come here, Pebs.”

💤💥🪨 Without another word, Kiri scoops you up bridal style and takes a seat on the couch placing you in his lap. Baku takes the seat next to him gently taking the hot tea from your trembling hands. You hadn’t even realized they were shaking until you touched his steady ones. “Babes, we hafta talk about this. Including Friday, this makes 3 days of shitty sleep. That’s not good or sustainable, Knucklehead.” Bakugou sighs placing the mug on the coffee table before wiping away a tear rolling down your cheek.

💤💥🪨 “It’s not like I don’t wanna do better, Kats. Eiji. I’m just...” you trail off mid explanation. You clasp fingers over your soft lips. Opening twice to speak, but only croaks come out. You try very hard to find a tangible reason for your reluctance to sleep, but there were none. Kiri squeezes your shoulders reassuringly and plants a gentle kiss on the top of your bonnet.

💤💥🪨 “We know you’re trying, love. It’s ok to be scared sometimes. Even the resident hardass, Katsuki still gets nightmares.” Kiri offers doing his best to let you ride these feelings out while comforting you as well. “Yea.”Baku’s grip tightens at the mention of his own nightmares before leaning his head on your legs

💤💥🪨 “I just can’t trust it ok! It’s scary. I’m panicking in sleep now?!! I’m only getting worse and now I crying about. FUCK! I’m just a scared bitchy crybaby who can’t sleep.” You sigh overwhelmed by all the physical closeness and their consistent and unwavering support. You mentally kick yourself for the not realizing sooner that you trusted them enough to hurt like this in front of them. There’s something that unnerves you about that. Tears streaming at full force at this piont

💤💥🪨Kiri holds you firmly to chest tucking your shaking form under his chin. Baku moves to wrap an embrace overlapping Kiri’s arms. “Just let it all out, Babygirl.” He hums leaning his head on your shoulder. Your chest tightens and your fingers curl into angry fists. Suddenly your frighteningly fierce temper rears it’s ugly head.

💤💥🪨 “No no no NO! Stop It! STOP ACTING SO NICE! STOP ACTING LIKE I DESRVE THIS! BE DISAPPOINTED! BE UPSET!! TELL ME TO TRY HARDER! TELL ME TO TAKE BETTER CARE OF MYSELF! TELL ME IT’S EASY! REALLY EASY! BE ANGRY I’M FUCKING IT ALL UP! BLAME ME! I BLAME ME! I blame me... I blame me for not being...better.” You fume trying to push them away. You do your best to squirm out of their gentle comfort and tender embrace your lovers have you wrapped in. Neither one of your boys moves. “No way, Pebs.” Kirishima says resolutely. “Not a fucking chance, Teddy.” Bakugou nods with the same unchanging confidence. The rage in your chest melts as fat tears and roll down your brown cheeks.

💤💥🪨 A heaving and broken sob racks your entire body as you fall apart in their arms. Anger subsides into terrified uncertainty and overwhelming futility settles in its place. Tears and mucus flood down your face and soak Kiri’s t-shirt. Sniffles from above draws you out of the dark thoughts swarming around you. Surely enough tears drip slowly down Kiri’s cheeks. Instinctively you cup his face with trembling hands. “...Sorry.. I’ll be strong...just gimme a sec” he mutters as his broad shoulders slump and he moves to bat away the falling droplets. Bakugou grabs his hand and kisses it while wiping the red head’s face. “Eijirou, you don’t have to. Not right now” You sputter between choppy breaths.

💤💥🪨 His usually unwavering features muddy with insecurity. A fairly uncommon expression for someone so death defyingly optimistic and confident. “But it’s what I’m good at. If I can’t be strong for the people I love most then what good am I?” He retorts apathetically tightening his grip as the tears still trickle. You slink an arm around his hips, and place your face to his chest. “Bullshit. You’re plenty strong enough for us, Eijirou. Stop being so hard headed!” Bakugou raves putting a hand behind his neck and his forehead against his for emphasis before continuing, “You’re allowed to feel more than one thing. You are complex and unique and fearless and fearful all in one. You’re human, Eiji. It’s ok.”

💤💥🪨 “Katsuki, you’re so compassionate and kind.” You hum softly and absentmindedly almost. You don’t know why this observation came but it just feels right. Eiji smiles leaning in the blonde’s embrace. “Honestly Kats, you love remarkably deep and painfully unselfishly. Thank you.” Kiri hums kissing his cheek and you do the same. Hot little tears rest at the corners of his dark red eyes. Most of the public thinks he’s some kind of angry asshole devoid of any softer emotions. Comments on your relationship often criticized Katsuki for snagging partners ‘much nicer than he deserved’. And just like that you are scooting over to make room for Bakugou in Kiri’s lap. 

💤💥🪨 “Such a shitty little week.” Baku sighs with misty eyes. There’s a small comfort in the collective collapse washing over the three of you. All of you holding the hurt from the others in hopes it would just fizzle away like a bad dream. It didn’t. You sob, Kiri sniffles, and Baku lets two hot tear slip from his glassy eyes. None of you break contact with each other. Your fingers linked with Kiri and Baku’s in the opposite hand. A head glued affectionately onto the red head’s broad shoulder. After what seems like a lifetime and you can’t cry anymore and feeling a surprising amount of relief sinks onto you, you clear your throat.

💤💥🪨 “Wanna watch How to Train a Dragon?” You rasp with tired and strained vocal chords. “I’ll get the popcorn.” Kiri sighs kissing each of you on the cheek as he ushers you both out of his lap. He sashays into the kitchen to find a bowl and the popcorn. Baku stands handing you your cool tea as he grabs the remote. Flipping decisively through Amazon Prime, he queues up the movie as he settles onto the far side of the couch to lay out fully. You sip contently tucking your knees to your chest so you can press the soles of your feet into his. “That tickles.” Bakugou deadpans wiggling his own toes. Soft giggles flutter out of your chest.

💤💥🪨 Kiri strolls back in the room with two large bowls of popcorn and a blanket on each arm. He bows presenting them to their proper owners. Movie theater butter for Baku and kettle corn for you two to share. You sit your now empty mug on the coffee table as Kiri retakes his original spot and you settle comfortably into his lap cocooning you both in a cozy weighted blanket. Baku draped in a light throw typically the first to complain about being hot. The DreamWorks title sequence floats across the screen, and wave of peacefulness falls over the tired trio. Less then five minutes in, you and Bakugou snore quietly as Kiri’s heavy eyelids fight to watch the next couple scenes

[jinx-jade]

Contagious adoption Part 2: Creatures

Marinette and Tim were sitting in the living room of one of Tim’s apartments. They had flown in from the Tibet village about thirteen or fourteen hours ago.

Tim had filled out all the adoption papers and any other legal papers his newly claimed daughter would need. To his surprise, Marinette had identification papers. He had thought the little deity didn’t need them. After all, Marinette had lived on the hill to grant wishes, why would she need identification papers.

Unless she didn’t live on the hill her whole life… 

Thinking back to what Marinette had said when he asked her why she stayed up on the mountain all alone. Tim had a feeling she’s been abandoned before.

Back on the mountain, Marinette had shifted from one foot to the other a few times before answering his question. She seemed to have been contemplating what to tell him. Or was it how much to tell him? 

Her answer, “Because I have nowhere else to go and no one waiting for me anywhere.” was a well-thought-out way to respond. 

If no one wants you, then no one waits for you.

If no one waits for you, then you have nowhere to go.

“... ake, Mr. Drake,” Marinette called for the umpteenth time.

“Sorry about that, guess I got lost in my thoughts,” Tim said with a sheepish smile. “Did you need something? Oh, and you can just call me Tim, or any variation of dad that you’re comfortable with.”

“Oh, uh, I don’t need anything… ” The little deity trailed off. “But, uh, does… does Papa work?”

Tim gave his daughter a soft smile.

‘His daughter. Now wasn’t that a strange thought.’ Tim couldn’t help but think to himself.

“You can call me Papa if you want.” He said with a smile, before adding, “I can speak French and a few other languages.”

Tim was unsure why he felt like mentioning that he can speak French was important. However, when Tim saw Marinette look up at him in awe, he couldn’t help but think It was the right thing to say.

“Now, what is it you wanted to do,” Tim asked, picking his daughter up so she doesn’t have to look up at him the whole conversation.

“Can we make cookies? It’s… It’s been a long time since I’ve had any…” Marinette trailed off again.

“Of course we can make cookies. What kind did you want to make?” Tim asked with a soft smile.

Life continued like normal for the young CEO, vigilante, with the addition of a small deity. However, there were a few changes to his lifestyle.

Tim was now able to cook and bake, not as good as Alfred, but he figured that Alfred won’t ban him from the kitchen.

Tim also registered Marinette Drake-Wayne as being homeschooled. Which was fine since Tim was technically qualified to homeschool his kid. However, Marinette flew through the classes like they were nothing. Her teachers wanted to have her IQ tested, but Marinette said she didn’t want to, so no one pushed it.

Tim also worked from home, only ever showing up to meetings. He also seemed to have a little helper when it came to some of the paperwork. Turns out, Marinette knows how a business runs, and how to run one. It was slightly concerning, but his daughter waved his concern off.

Tim took a break from being a vigilante. He still helped out by sending the bats reports of the rogue of the day, or sometimes a week, that they were tracking. Marinette helped out with this as well. Apparently, she’s been a vigilante before. To say that Tim was concerned was an understatement, but his concern was once again, waved off.

After a month of living with his adopted daughter, Tim had his first in-person meeting at W.E.

“Hey bean, do you want to come with me to work?” Tim asked while making breakfast.

“Am I allowed to?” Marinette shot back in response.

“I mean, B. always took his kids to work so, I’m just gonna say you’re allowed to,” Tim answered with a shrug, setting the food at the table.

Marinette shrugged back.

“Sure! I’ll go ahead and call H.R. and let them know I’ll be making my first appearance as Marinette Drake-Wayne.” Marinette informed him, before digging into her food.

Tim chuckled at that.

“You’re definitely gonna be H.R.’s favorite.” He claimed before he began eating his breakfast.

“Papa, I used to grant magic wishes on a hill with mythical creatures, that is my version of normal. I’m willing to bet that I will be H.R.’s least favorite person by the end of the year.” Marinette claimed, causing Tim to laugh.

“Bean, sweetheart, you’re about to call H.R. to let them know about a mess they will have to clean up. The rest of the Waynes, myself included, usually just let them find out through the tabloids and news stations. You’re definitely gonna be their favorite.” Tim informed his daughter.

_______________________

Tim stepped out of his car and walked through W.E. up to his office. He was aware of the attention that was on him, not bothered by it in the slightest.

He looked down at his daughter to see that she was trying to hide from sight. She was clearly not comfortable with everyone looking at her. Well, everyone looking at her and the lack of magic. He really should have remembered that Marinette has extremely bad anxiety whenever she can’t freely use magic. In his defense, it seemed that neither of them had remembered due to having barely left the apartment the whole month Marinette has been living there.

Tim looked up and around the workplace. He raised a brow at the employees that were just watching, most of them scrambled to work, or simply turned their attention away to seem busy.

When Tim and Marinette finally made it to Tim’s office, they thought they could relax, only to see the rest of the Waynes sitting inside.

Bruce looked like he was about to ask something, but stopped when he caught sight of the little girl hiding behind Tim.

Tim of course, ignored his families questioning stares in favor of calming his daughter.

Tim sat Marinette down in his office chair with a cup of coffee, before turning his attention to the others in the room.

“I wasn’t aware everyone started working at W.E.” Tim joked with a raised brow. A clear question as to why they were in his office.

“Not all of us do,” Dick answered looking towards the small child. “Did you just give the tiny person coffee?”

Tim shrugs the question off easily, “Caffeine helps calm her anxiety when she’s too overwhelmed.”

“And who exactly is she?” Damian inquired, sounding a bit more like a demand than a question.

Tim looked over to Marinette who seemed to be doing slightly better. There wasn’t much else they could do besides give her more coffee and random tasks to do. He gestured for her to come over and talk, a simple task to take her mind off the lack of magic. She slowly made her way off the office chair and towards the group of people.

“Marinette, this is my adoptive father, brothers, and sister, Bruce, Barbara, Dick, Cass, Jason, Steph, and Damian. Guys, this is Marinette Drake-Wayne, my adopted daughter.”

Marinette gave a small, shy wave and smile before hiding behind her father once again.

“You disappeared for a month, and apparently adopted a kid.” Jason states. “Damn, and here I thought it was supposed to be my job to stress B. out.” He claimed with a chuckle.

“Could one of you watch Marinette for me while B. and I are in the meeting? I had asked her this morning if she wanted to come since I couldn’t leave her at home alone, but I don’t think either of us thought It would be this bad for her anxiety.” Tim states.

“How about those of us who don’t have a meeting to attend will go back to the manor, and we can watch over Marinette,” Barbara suggests.

Tim looked to Marinette to see if she would be ok with it, only to receive a shrug from the little deity.

“Ok.” Tim agreed after some hesitation. “If Marinette starts getting too anxious then give her something with caffeine in it and have her draw, or bake something,” Tim informs them.

After Marinette and Tim say their goodbyes, Marinette follows Barbara, Dick, Cass, and Steph out to the limo.

The drive to Wayne manor was awkward, to say the least. None of the Waynes had known that Tim adopted a kid, and they weren’t sure if she knew about their nightly activities, so they stayed quiet.

Tim’s daughter didn’t seem to mind the silence. Marinette was looking out the window calmly with no signs of her previous anxiety. However, every once in a while her hand slightly opens and closes as if grabbing something.

When they arrived at the manor, Dick was immediately grabbed into a hug by his daughter. Mar’i speaks too fast and excitedly for them to understand, unknowingly grabbing the attention of most of the Waynes.

Cass however, noticed the youngest and newest Waynes flinch at Mar’i’s unexpected appearance. Cass quickly and quietly, moved away from the other Waynes, bringing Marinette with her, inside the manor.

“Would the two of you like anything to drink or snack on?” Alfred asked when they entered.

“Tea. Muffin,” Cass says pointing to herself. “Coffee. Muffin?” Cass said pointing to Marinette.

“Of course, why don’t the two of you relax in the garden,” Alfred suggests.

Cass nodded her head leading them to the garden while Alfred left to prepare their snacks and drinks. Marinette seemed to be stuck in her head and simply followed Cass silently.

Marinette and Cass spent the afternoon in the garden, the plants seemed to have a calming effect on the smaller Wayne. After Marinette being in the garden for a while and drinking her coffee, Marinette seemed to have calmed down.

However, not all of Marinette’s anxiety and nerves were calmed by the coffee and plants. Cass just wasn’t sure what else could be calming the little bluenette.

After a few more minutes had passed, some small creatures started gravitating towards Marinette.

A white rabbit, some squirrels, birds, even a butterfly landed on Marinette’s nose making the girl giggle.

Cass could only watch in awe as the small creatures came closer. None of them wanted any food, water, or shelter, they simply wanted Marinette’s attention.

Then Cass noticed that the few small injuries and bruises she had received from last night’s patrol were fading away.

No.

They were healing.

Cass took out her phone and quickly recorded her injuries healing too fast to be normal, this seemed like the kind of thing the other bats would want to know. 

Cass also took a video and a few pictures of Marinette playing with the animals. She had to admit, the pictures looked adorable, so of course, she sent some to Tim. 

Chat: Tim

Cass: one attached picture*

Tim: good call on bringing her to the garden

Cass: Alfred idea

Tim: where are the others

Cass: Mar’i frightened? Marenet?

Tim: KEEP MARINETTE AWAY FROM KORI AND MARI

Cass: why

Tim: Marinette isn’t

Tim: normal

Cass: one attached video*

Tim: yeah

Tim: her anxiety is caused by not being able to use magic freely

Tim: should have mentioned that before

Tim: sorry

Cass: I text others?

Tim: Yeah go-ahead

Tim: Lunch break is over

Tim: I'll see you guys when the meetings are over

Cass: ok

Cass shot a quick text to Dick, warning him that Tim doesn’t want Kor’i or Mar’i near Marinette till he was at the manor, before looking up from her phone to check on Marinette. She seemed to be relaxed, definitely not as anxious as before. Cass probably wouldn’t have been able to tell that Marinette has anxiety from looking at her right now.

Marinette looked up from the little creatures she seemed to have befriended, with a smile. She got up with some plants in her hand and made her way towards Cass.

Marinette placed a flower crown on Cass’s head with a giggle, before running back to the animals.

Cass couldn’t help but think that Tim had a lot of explaining to do when he gets to the manor.

‘But that’s not my problem to deal with.’ Cass thought to herself as she took a picture of the flower crown and sent it to the family chat.

[chudleycanonficfest]

Dorkus Maximus

Day 20, Story #1 is by @honouraryweasley12

Title: Dorkus Maximus Author: honouraryweasley12 Pairing: Harry/Ginny Prompt: Slice of life Rating: PG

The locker room door slammed open, and a frustrated raven-haired witch marched in, a sporting bag slung over her shoulder and a broom in hand. She marched to where her teammates were sitting and threw her equipment down in a huff.

"What's with all the press? It's only an open practice. Bloody nuisance, they are."

"Good morning to you, too, Reena." Edith replied, giving her friend a wry smile.

She groaned. "I know this is the first full season since the end of the war and everything, but it's mental out there. I guess people are really excited for Quidditch to be back."

Edith scoffed; her face unable to hide the surprise. She glanced around at the other women who were staring at Reena and murmuring indistinctly. All but a redheaded witch sitting at the far stall.

Reena glanced around, confused by the reactions of her fellow Harpies. "What, what did I miss?"

"Have you met the new Chaser? She just graduated from Hogwarts."

Reena shook her head. The redhead stood up and strode across the room, holding out a hand.

"Hi, I'm Ginny."

Reena shook her hand, still unsure what the new chaser had to do with the number of reporters at their usually quiet practice. "Nice to meet you, I'm Reena Kumar. I guess we'll be chasing together."

Ginny smiled. "I'm looking forward to it. I've been watching you play for the past few years."

"You must be quite a sensation to draw all that attention."

Edith interrupted. "Her full name is Ginny Weasley."

Reena's eyes widened. "Weasley? As in the family of war heroes?"

Ginny blushed. "It wasn't just us, so many people fought."

"No wonder there are so many reporters outside. I guess we'll have to get used to it, having a celebrity on our team."

"You're already celebrities," Ginny replied.

"Sure, amongst some people. But everyone knows of your family now."

Ginny shrugged. "I have your poster up on my wall. That goal you scored on Wimbourne in '96 was amazing."

"Well, I see you're a student of the game. Just ignore those tossers outside and concentrate on the practice."

"It's fine. They follow my boyfriend and I everywhere. He hates the attention, but I've gotten used to it, being with him."

"Oh, who's your boyfriend?"

The rest of the team howled with laughter, as Ginny's face flushed a deep red.

Edith piped up again. "I know you're a fanatic about your training in the offseason, Reena, but you can't be serious. Have you not looked at a magazine or newspaper in the last year?"

Reena bristled defensively, facing her teammates. "What the hell is the matter with all of you?"

Edith laughed, clapping her friend on the shoulder. "Ginny here also happens to be the girlfriend of Harry Potter."

Reena spun back around. "What? THE Harry Potter?"

Ginny nodded, smiling. "It's really not a big deal."

Edith sat down heavily, fanning her face in jest. "He's so dark and mysterious, running off on secret missions to save the world. Fighting off evil at every turn. So brave and heroic."

It was Ginny's turn to laugh, drawing the attention of the rest of the women, who were unable to resist listening to gossip about the famous Harry Potter.

Edith looked affronted. "What did I say?"

Ginny shook her head. "He's not like that at all. He did what he had to do; he didn't want any of the burden he's lived his life under. You've been reading too many gossip rags."

"What's he like then?" Reena asked, unable to hide her curiosity.

"He's… a dork," Ginny replied affectionately.

A loud roar of indignation rang out from the rest of the team, unbelieving of her description of the most famous wizard in the country.

She held up her hands. "I'm being completely truthful. He's nothing like the stories make him out to be."

The sharp voice of team captain Gwenhog Jones suddenly rang out, silencing them as she entered from the trainer's room. "Enough with the chit chat. We hit the pitch in five minutes. Kumar, Leech, and Weasley, you'll lead us out."

The team nodded and got back to their usual routine. Ginny couldn't help adding one more thing. "Judge for yourselves when you meet him."

A few minutes later, they were lined up, brooms at the ready. Edith threw an arm each around Ginny and Reena. "Let's go."

~*~

Three hours later, the locker room was almost empty. Most of the team had showered and left after a hard first practice, one which had been flooded by the flashes of cameras as reporters tried to get a first glimpse of Ginny Weasley, current media darling.

It had been so bad at one point that Gwenhog almost crashed into the stands, sending them all scrambling.

The only players left in the locker room were Reena, who was busy stretching, and Ginny, who was trying to come up with a gameplan on how to avoid the questions and photos. The Anti-Apparition jinxes on the locker room were proving to be an annoyance.

There was a soft knock on the door, so Ginny marched over and opened it a crack, ready to ream out the reporter she expected. Instead, she was greeted with nothing.

"Gin, it's me."

"Harry!?"

"Yeah, can I come in? No one is changing or anything, are they?"

"No, come in." She pushed open the door slightly, allowing him in before shutting it again.

He whispered a phrase, lifting his Disillusionment charm, before quickly pulled her into a long snog. After they broke apart, he stepped back.

She looked him up and down, bursting out in laughter. "What are you wearing?"

He was decked out from head-to-toe in the signature green and yellow Harpies colours, including a kit with Weasley across his back. He had a glittery green pom-pom in his left hand, and his face was painted with the Holyhead logo. He even had a hat on with an animated chaser throwing a quaffle through a hoop.

"I came to see your practice! You were great!" Harry exclaimed, rather loudly and enthusiastically. He mimicked flying and waved his hands wildly. "That one move you made where you faked to the middle, then threw it through the far hoop was outstanding."

A voice called out. "What's the commotion. Is everything—"

Reena froze as she rounded the corner, coming face to face with Harry.

Ginny smirked, and gestured to her boyfriend. "See, I told you. Reena Kumar, meet Harry Potter."

Reena laughed, seeing the look of confusion on Harry's face. He shrugged his shoulders and stuck out a hand. She stared at it in awe for a second, before taking it.

Harry shook her hand energetically, still buoyed by his exuberance over Ginny's practice.

"Nice to meet you, Harry. My friends and family will hardly believe it!"

"Nice to meet you as well. Oh!" His eyebrows suddenly raised in recognition. "Gin's shown me some of your highlights. You're an amazing chaser!"

"Thank you." Her voice was halting, still somewhat taken aback by his bizarre appearance.

"Did you see Ginny? Wasn't she fantastic? You looked like a veteran out there. Just incredible!"

"Harry, calm down, it was one practice."

He bounced on his heels. "But you were so great, love. All of you were. You're going to be at the top of the table, I can feel it!"

Reena shook her head, stunned that the saviour of their way of life was indeed as Ginny described. After an awkward second of silence, she addressed him. "From what I've read, you're quite a good Seeker."

"I'm alright," Harry responded.

"Don't be modest." Ginny turned to her fellow Chaser. "He could've played in the league if he wanted to."

"She's definitely surpassed me since I last played at Hogwarts. Wasn't she great for her first time with a professional team?"

"He does have a point, Weasley. You were pretty good."

"See, Gin?"

She waved him off. "Thank you, both. Where were you, Harry? I didn't see you."

"I was planning to surprise you, but there were too many reporters. I hid myself in the top corner of the stands. I also may have planted a rumour just now that you had snuck out already, that's why no one is here."

"It's almost like you've done this before." Ginny added wryly.

Harry grabbed her hands in his. "We should really get going. Your mum planned a big celebration dinner and most of the family will be there. It was really great meeting you, Reena!"

He practically dragged Ginny to the doors as she waved goodbye to her teammate, flashing Reena a look of humoured exasperation and rolled her eyes.

Harry kept babbling on as they exited the room. "Ron really wanted to come, too, but he had too much work. He and Hermione will be there, as will George and Angelina, Percy—"

The doors shut behind them, cutting off the sound. Reena simply shook her head and smiled. Dork didn't even begin to cover it.

[themandylion]

97 & 41 jaytim

Oh wow, this ended up long. /o\

97 (Time Travel) + 41 (First Kiss) + JayTim

He's boosting tires in the Bowery when the thugs find him. Crowd him up against a wall and threaten him with bodily harm for horning in on their territory, even though this part of the city is a free-for-all, with no one reigning supreme. There's three of them to his one, all of them full-grown men with bulging muscles and nasty tempers and Jason knows he's in his final moments, that there's no way he's escaping this. Still, that doesn't mean he's going to go down without a fight. He squares his shoulders, plants his feet, raises the tire iron in his hand, and—

Between one blink and the next, the back-most thug is on the ground, groaning and clutching his crotch. There's a blur of red, and then the next one's down on his knees, the crowbar he was gripping half a block away and the hand that was holding it pinned to the wall by a slim, sharp-edged disk.

Silver flashes through the night, and the final guy collapses in a heap, just sprawled out on the pavement like he's not even human anymore, just a pile of discard clothes over something lumpy and unmoving. Someone lands on his back, light and nimble and impossibly tall. "You okay there, kid?" the new person asks, crouching down so he's at Jason's level and smiling.

"…Batman?" He's only ever seen the Bat from a distance before, but he's heard about the cape and cowl, and this guy has both.

The guy shakes his head. "Nope, not him. I'm his partner, though."

"Robin wears green," Jason feels compelled to point out, because he's definitely seen Robin before, though always on the TV, when the Teen Titans are fighting really scary bad guys elsewhere in the world.

This time, a shadow seems to pass over the man's face, sad and unhappy. "I'm a different kind of Robin. Red Robin. I'm pretty new, it's not surprising you haven't heard of me." He leans back on his heels and glances around at the thugs, frowning. "I've got to tie these guys up and leave them somewhere the GCPD will find them. Do you think you can get home on your own?"

Jason gulps, staring up at him, at the way all that tight leather and spandex hugs his body. Gee whiz. "Yeah, I. I can take care of myself. Thanks!" He surges forward, practically smacking his mouth against Red Robin's cheek, before running off into the night. Maybe not headed home, but to as close as anything gets, these days.

---

Two weeks later, Batman catches him boosting tires on Crime Alley. A week later, he's going home with the man. Jason asks about Red Robin and gets a confused, clueless look, which is strange. With everything else happening, he forgets about the man in the black cowl with the silver staff, but he still finds himself drawn to that one particular shade of red.

---

He forgets until the memory is jarred out of the deepest depths years later on the other side of the multiverse, when he's bound to a chair and staring down the barrel of gun. A gun held by another Batman, a different Bruce. One who did all the things he thought he wanted his Bruce to do, only to end up a broken man as a result. Jason tries to explain himself and his presence, but it's hard to when he keeps seeing that suit in the case over this Batman's shoulder.

They reach an understanding, a kind of peace. Both of them, finally, for the first time in ages. This other Bruce offers him the suit, and Jason doesn't think twice before putting it on. He's traveled across the multiverse, seen places where dead people live again, where evil people are good and vice versa. It's not too far a stretch to believe that somehow, he's going become his own childhood hero.

When he finishes pulling on the last piece, Bruce looks on him with pride and announces, "Red Robin lives!"

"Red…?" Jason murmurs, more than a little startled. It's been so long, he'd nearly forgotten the name, but it fits, it makes sense. Finally, he's back on the right path, back to being someone the boy he once was could be proud of. Will be proud of, when their paths cross again, which he's sure they will.

---

The other Batman dies.

---

They get back, finally done traveling across the multiverse, fleeing across Apokolips, running from plagues and maybes and might-have-beens. Donna and Rayner return to wherever they call home, and Jason... He thought he finally found himself when he put on the cowl and became Red Robin, but with everything that happened after that moment, all the contrition he gained has been too long stewing in a half-broken heart. He isn't sure who rescued him when he was a kid, but it wasn't him, and it wasn't the long-dead Jason of another world. Maybe it was no one at all, and he made it all up and convinced himself it was real.

He runs back to Gotham, strips off the cape and cowl, the bandoliers and leather. Throws it all in the trash and goes to knock some heads and blow off some steam, anything to escape from what the rest of the Justice League brought with them—a sob story and a broken, days-old body.

---

The suit disappears from the can where he threw it, and he thinks good riddance to bad rubbish, but the person who's wearing it now doesn't understand the significance, the legacy. Doesn't know what it symbolizes, a last chance at redemption, a final loss of innocence.

The new kid distracts him, muddies the water and still Jason doesn't see it, doesn't realize what's happening. Even when the kid takes the cowl, adds it to his green-free suit, he doesn't see it.

Jason's too busy fighting, too busy screaming, raging, being angry at himself and the world to realize how things are swirling tighter and tighter, closing in, twining together, weaving themselves in an intricate, impossible mesh that's new and old and always existing all at the same time. The three of them—him and Dick and the new kid—push and shove and fight and scream and grieve in their own ways, trying to figure out who they're going to be now, what the world is without Bruce.

He ignores overtures of friendship, leaves the kid broken and bleeding out and thinks nothing of it, still too busy hurting and too busy denying he hurts.

Thinks nothing of Robin back on the streets in red and green and black and yellow, a different boy, an actual child.

---

Bruce comes back, but he's just as stubborn as always, and Jason burned the last of his bridges while the old man was playing possum. There's nothing left for him to do but lurk in the shadows and grit his teeth and watch Drake bounce around the city in a costume that isn't his, telling himself he doesn't care, that it doesn't rub him the wrong way.

Doesn't actually realize what's happening until one day he's watching as Drake races across the city, ready to step in and stop him if he dares to cross into Red Hood's territory when suddenly—

There's no one. The roof's empty, not a soul in sight.

He swings over, investigates. There's a strange acrid smell in the air along with the faintest traces of sweat and exhaustion, but there's no clue to where he's gone, no hint. Minutes pass and the sky is getting darker as evening turns into night. Just when he's given up, Drake reappears, but still, unmoving. One hand grasping his staff while the other touches his cheek and he stares into nothing, dazed and unfocused.

His attention snaps up, and Jason is too startled to move, still standing there in the middle of the roof, the two of them locked in place.

"Holy fuck." He can't. This isn't—

He's tried to kill Drake multiple times over the years. They've barely had a conversation that hasn't ended with Jason drawing a knife or a gun, and more often than not he comes out on top. Leaves the guy knowing that he's alive at Jason's mercy.

But now he's standing there, finally grown into the Red Robin suit and name, filling it in all the right places, all the right ways, grasping a staff that Jason somehow failed to recognize until this exact moment.

"I never—" He never thought to make the connection, always assumed it had to be someone else, some one huge. Big enough to match the larger-than-life figure that dominated a half-forgotten memory.

"Huh." Red Robin collapses his staff, clips it his belt. "Random time blip? I didn't even realize."

Which would explain it. Of course he didn't realize—no way would he have helped that other, younger Jason if he'd known who it was. Why save a boy who's going to grow up to become a monster bent on destroying him over and over again. "Sorry," Jason says, startled, confused, unable to wrap his head around it all as he stumbles backwards, tries to do what he always does when he's confronted with too much, too fast—run.

Red Robin—Drake—tilts his head to the side and then does something completely unexpected. He shoves back the cowl and studies Jason with cool, clear eyes. "I have a feeling this has been a weird night for both of us. You could stick around. We could figure this out together."

So help him, Jason hesitates. "Time travel is pretty weird."

"I was thinking more being kissed by my childhood crush. But yeah, that too."

"Your… what?"

"Come on," he says, holding out a hand. "I think it's time we finally talked. Maybe without the death threats this time?"

Gulping, Jason takes that hand in his.

It's not much, but. It's a start.

(The Fanfic Trope MASH-UP is still open for asks!)

[writesowhatnext]

if it wasn’t for you meddling kids // remus lupin

Summary: the boys are suspicious when Remus keeps disappearing… where is he going? Who’s he meeting?

Request: is it alright if i request a remus x hufflepuff reader? he has the biggest crush on y/n (poor boy is always nervous) and they hangout in the kitchens/sneak out to the astronomy tower then they kiss or smth. thanks!!

A/N: this was a cute request so I hope I did it alright :)))))

Reader: unspecified

Warnings: none??

Whilst by no means the smartest Marauder, Remus did have to give Peter credit for figuring it out first, even if he was just throwing ideas at a wall and seeing what stuck.

“Moony,” James drawled, lying upside down off of his bed when Remus finally got back to their dorm. He had a spring in his step and unfortunately, it seemed like all three of them noticed. “Where have you been scampering off to recently?”

“What?” Remus asked, declining to face his friends and have the pink blush of his cheeks give himself away.

He’d be teased mercilessly if they knew where he’d been disappearing to almost every night, the fool he’d been making of himself every time he met up with you in the kitchens. He thought about your nightly rituals fondly, but he made sure to not convince himself that they meant anything to you; he was the one with a crush, after all.

“Prongs is right, actually,” Sirius piped up, the ball he’d been throwing against the wall pausing in his hand.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Remus sat on his bed, pulling out a book under the watchful eyes of his best friends who apparently had nothing better to do than quiz him on his whereabouts.

“You keep leaving earlier after dinner,” James said, pushing his glasses up his nose.

“And you don’t come back until just before curfew,” Sirius said, matching James’ position as they both lay back over the ends of their beds. Peter watched curiously from under his sheets.

“I’ve had homework to catch up on,” Remus insisted, trying to keep his voice level as he hid his face in his book.

“You’ve done all the assignments due next week already,” Peter very helpfully supplied, wilting slightly under Remus’ annoyed scowl. Sure, Peter cared about what he was doing, but he was nowhere near as invested as James and Sirius, who were ironically enough like a pair of dogs with a bone.

“He’s got a point, Moons,” Sirius smirked, tilting his head to the side as his dark hair fell down towards the ground.

“So why,” James said conspiratorially. “Are you sneaking out and lying to us?”

“I’m hardly sneaking-“

“So, tell us where you’ve been going then!”

“Bloody hell, I didn’t realise I’d be in for the Spanish Inquisition tonight.”

“The what?” James and Sirius asked at the same time, only earning an eyeroll in response.

“I’m not doing anything,” Remus insisted, sliding his feet underneath the covers and huffing. “There’s nothing to tell.”

“C’mon Pads,” James said, grunting as he lifted himself up, leaning on his elbows and turning to face Sirius. “Time for a brainstorm. Now, why would Moony be gallivanting around and not tell us?”

“Maybe he’s a werewolf,” Sirius replied with a smirk, barely dodging the pillow Remus threw his way.

“Don’t be a prat, there’s no way Moons could be a werewolf.”

Remus would have nothing to sleep on if he needed any more ammunition to throw at his gits of friends.

“Maybe he’s meeting someone,” Peter provided, drawing a round of intrigued cooing from James and Sirius. Remus would’ve sent him another glare had he not purposefully been trying to avoid the conversation.

“You might be onto something there,” James nodded approvingly, stroking his chin with his hand. “But who?”

“Pince, maybe?” Sirius suggested, the familiar rhythm of his tennis ball hitting the wall resuming. “He’s always had a thing for the librarian.”

“Too old.”

“That Slytherin fifth year he tutors?”

“Too young.”

“What about that Hufflepuff?”

Peter was really starting to get on Remus’ nerves with all his helpful little suggestions. He gritted his teeth and pulled his bedsheet tighter over him, hoping they wouldn’t notice how right on the money Wormtail actually was.

“What Hufflepuff?” Sirius asked and Remus could practically imagine his confused expression, his brows drawn down and mouth pouting.

“The one you’re partners with in Herbology,” Peter said, nodding at James. Remus squeezed his eyes shut, not enjoying at all how dangerously close they were getting to the truth of how he spent his nights.

“Are you on about Y/N?”

Peter shrugged.

“Is this the same Y/N that saved your arse when you got hit in the face by that Bouncing Bulb?” Sirius asked, the smile in his voice louder than his words.

Remus couldn’t help but smile himself as he remembered that particular lesson and how adorable you’d been laughing at James.

“Excuse me,” James said rather indignantly. “I did not need saving!”

“Yeah, right, I’m sure.”

As they began to argue between themselves, Remus hoped that they would forget about the whole thing and leave him to have his favourite person all to himself for just a little bit longer.

He’d blame wishful thinking for his stupidity that following day. How he didn’t notice his friends skulking behind him with their stampede-like footsteps and constantly loud shushing he’d never know. Down every corridor and up every staircase they followed him, growing more and more confused as they approached the kitchens, surprised to see him disappear inside.

“Maybe he’s just there for chocolate?” James asked as the three of them peeked around a corner, their heads stacked on top of each other.

“Nah, Moony wouldn’t be so shirty about that, would he?” Sirius said from above him.

Remus really should’ve heard their loud bickering, but he was very distracted. Distracted, indeed, by you and that damn smile you sent him every time he walked through the kitchen doors to see you sitting there on one of the counters, surrounded by house-elves and looking like an angel. He realised very early on in your meetings that he wanted you to give him that smile everyday for the rest of your lives.

“Hello there,” you said happily, crossing your legs and leaning forward. He flushed under your stare and you couldn’t help but think of how completely adorable he looked with his pink cheeks and bowed head.

“Hi,” he replied softly, playing with the hem of his jumper and avoiding your eyes as he leant next to you on the counter. You smirked at his profile, biting your lip to hide your laughter at how awkward he seemed to be around you. Remus Lupin, the big brave Gryffindor, scared of little old you.

“How was your day?”

“Same old, same old. I saved your friend in Herbology again,” you sighed, huffing a laugh as you shook your head. “I don’t know why plants hate him so much.”

Remus laughed and the sound was like music to your ears, especially when he turned to face you with his head ducked, a sheepish grin on his lips.

“I think every species hates him a little bit,” he said, savouring the chiming of your laughter. His chest ached from how wonderful you looked, just sitting there so close to him. He couldn’t help but wonder how he got lucky enough to spend time with you.

“What about you?” you asked, picking up a sweet and popping it into your mouth, licking your thumb to get rid of the melted chocolate on your fingertips.

Remus’ eyes didn’t leave your lips until you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, suppressing a chuckle. He was met with the realisation that he’d been caught staring and his face turned an outrageous shade of pink, the blush disappearing beneath his collar.

“Uh-uh, fine, yes,” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “Had a bit of an interrogation from my mates last night, though.”

“What about?” you asked, inching your hand closer to his. “Insurance fraud?”

“Yeah, exactly,” he grinned, copying your movements until your little fingers touched. “I should probably cover my tracks a little better.”

“I bet it was all those receipts stuffed between the pages of your textbooks,” you mused, raising your eyebrows. His eyes examined your face as you looked down. You were busy staring at your fingers as you lifted your palm over his, placing it flat on the wooden counter between his body and his hand. He swallowed at the proximity, both confused and hopeful about where exactly this little dance would take you.

“It was about you, actually,” he muttered, swallowing again.

“Me?”

He nodded, not trusting his voice all that much with his heart beating so loudly in his ears. You looked so beautiful and the heat from your hand so close to him made butterflies flutter in his stomach.

“They’re worried about me disappearing every night. Very suspicious, they reckon.”

“I suppose that’s my fault for stealing you away all for myself,” you said gently, slowly peeling his fingers off of the surface of the counter, interlocking your hand with his. You looked up at him proudly, grinning at the surprised look on his face. You held your breath for his response, your smile fading slightly at his shocked silence.

“Why would you want me all for yourself?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Well, I fancy you quite a bit,” you admitted quietly, dipping your head in embarrassment. “Thought it would be quite obvious by now.”

Surely, he was just playing dumb so that he wouldn’t let you down, right? Maybe how nervous he was had nothing to do with you, and you’d just misread the signals. The thought alone made your stomach churn. Maybe you were just being foolish.

“Sorry,” you said, pulling your hand away from his and resting it in your lap. “I thought-“

Remus frowned as you paused, his hand horribly empty without yours to hold. A lump formed in his throat as he decided that he had to be spontaneous for once in his life.

He didn’t think as he stood up straight, and you prepared yourself for him to just walk out the door. He didn’t, though. The way he turned to stand in front of you surprised you both, though not nearly as much as the way his shaking and scarred hand lifted your chin. You looked up abruptly and your breath caught in your throat as his mouth pressed against yours.

You didn’t have the time or mental capacity to reciprocate before he pulled away, his expression a picture of fearful anticipation.

“I’m so sorry-“ he started, beginning to lower his hand before you cut him off and returned the favour, kissing him and threading your hands around his neck. You barely registered the feeling of his arms either side of you, trapping you in as he leant forwards, slotting himself between your legs. Your insides squirmed at the feeling of his lips on yours, a warmth flooding through you.

“Wow,” he said breathlessly when you both pulled back. You laughed, chewing on your bottom lip as you looked into his warm green eyes, more than pleased with the events on the night so far.

“I am very glad that just happened,” he whispered, quietly proud of himself for his courage.

“Me too,” you nodded, pursing your lips together. Your eyes drifted to his hair as you looked over his face, very much aware of the way his arms were curling around your waist. A shadow by the door caught your eye and you found yourself looking behind Remus, slightly flustered to see your Herbology partner staring back at you.

“We have an audience,” you whispered to Remus, smiling at the way his eyes lingered on your lips as you spoke.

As your words sunk in, he frowned, his hands still on your waist as he turned around to see James, Sirius and Peter looking back at him very guiltily from the doorway.

“Hi, mate,” James said, waving awkwardly. Sirius elbowed him with a grimace.

With an irritated hum, Remus turned back to face you and whilst you could feel how tense he was underneath your fingertips, he smiled to see you so close to him, replaying in his mind what had just happened.

“Are you going to go tear them a new one?” you asked, your voice so angelic he had to laugh. He nodded reluctantly, his eyes darting back and forth from your eyes to your lips.

“Well,” you sighed, trailing your fingers from his neck to his chest, feeling the soft material of his jumper underneath them. “I suppose you must. Only if you give me a kiss, though, before you go.”

He beamed at your words, cheeks pinking as he leaned so close you could feel his breath on your face.

“You really don’t have to ask me twice.”

With that, he kissed you again and you thought, quite happily, that you would do anything you could to make it a habit. He pressed his swollen lips together when you both pulled back, his eyes roaming over your face once more before he stepped away, his fingers brushing your waist, not at all ready to let go of this moment. He let them drop as your eyes flicked behind him, no doubt watching his friends watching you.

“I might kill you guys,” he said loud enough for them to hear, his eyes never leaving yours.

You laughed at the sound of them scrambling away, the door swinging shut behind them as their bickering echoed down the corridor. Remus stepped backwards to leave, but only for a second before he lunged back towards you and pecked you on the lips, happy to remind himself that he was probably allowed to do that now.

You giggled as he legged it down the hallway, fairly chuffed with the fact that you’d just kissed Remus Lupin. You swung your legs back and forth as you placed another sweet in your mouth, very excited to recreate the experience the next day.

harry potter tag list:

@creator-appreciator​

@decadentwastelandtrash

@loveisblindness​

@xinyourdreamsx​

@brainlesspasta​

@hariosborn​

@staringmoony​

@rexorangecouny​

@alittletoomanyobsessions​

@peachesandpinks​

@yuptha-tsme​

@obsessedwithrandomthings​

@dreamer821​

@iprobablyshipit91​

@in-slytherin-we-trust​

[pot-of-terv]

Disclaimer: This starts soft but very quickly goes to a place I did NOT expect it to go so, just, be prepared. I guess there were some things my muse just couldn’t leave untouched :_D There’s also an additional drawing in there somewhere among the text. The ending is kind of a cliffhanger (dun dun duuun... part three is coming!!) but it’s happy (hurt/comfort y’all, MY BRAND)!

Also I have to say- oh my goodness this ended up having over 2,000 words and I’ve never written a fic this long! This feels pretty amazing but also, very scary, because as you know I’m a Finn so English is not my first language and this far I’ve stuck to just writing itty bitty things. Writing a story with multiple parts is also new to me, so wow, actually, thank you PuzzleJune for making me challenge myself in fresh and exciting ways 🥺

tw: breakdown

PuzzleJune2021, Week Two: Space (Quiet)

It is mesmerising. Intoxicating, even, Atem muses as he reaches up to rub his own sleep-soft face, eyes never leaving the still sleeping figure beside him. He shifts to lay on his side, slowly, with deliberate movements, trying to not disturb the quiet of the early morning.

Watching him sleep like this... I can feel the bed move when he moves and his warmth whenever he's close enough. I never had that before, he thinks and his heart clenches. I have it now.

Yuugi snorts in his sleep and Atem can't help but smile. That boy... no, that young man, has been through so much, too much, and yet he still sleeps so soundly. It's nothing short of incredible and the pharaoh wonders if he's ever met anyone more deserving of respect and admiration. Their journey thus far has only lasted for a couple of years and during that short time, the former spirit of the Millenium Puzzle has had the first-row seat to witnessing Yuugi's strength, his growth - how he slowly but surely had begun to trust himself.

Atem turns his gaze away from Yuugi and mulls over that thought. It hurts him somewhere deep in his core to remember how little worth Yuugi had seen in himself during those first months after Atem's consciousness awakened. He touches his chest where his heart is and leaves his hand there, feeling the slow rhythm beating under his palm.

That feeling of self-doubt could as well be his own, for he did think he was Yuugi for a while back then. It's a troubling realisation and he frowns at the ceiling. Despite not having any memories, how many of those insecurities had been Atem's own that he subconsciously reflected towards Yuugi's heart and by doing so unknowingly meddled with Yuugi's self-image as a whole? Objectively he knows that his emergence helped Yuugi gain confidence even though he didn't remember those first few times Atem took his place, but subjectively...? Atem's brows knit tighter together and he balls the hand that rests on his chest into a fist.

To call these thoughts troubling is an understatement. Suddenly Atem feels uncomfortably restless, he can't keep still, he needs space, he has to move. But moving would mean leaving the warm blankets and the even warmer form next to him and risk waking him in the process.

His chest feels so tight and it aches in a way Atem hasn't felt in millennia and he squeezes his eyes shut, holds his breath and with one swift movement pushes the blankets off of himself, sits up and rolls to the side to plant his feet onto the floor. The wood is cool under the bare soles of his feet and that sudden feeling makes him pause for a moment. He releases the breath he was holding.

It's almost funny how he already feels better. He glances over his shoulder to see if he had woken Yuugi up but the other youth seems undisturbed, still fast asleep. Relieved, Atem stands up... and doesn't know what to do. It's still practically night time and the house is silent. Mama Mutou and Grandpa will be getting up in one to two hours and Yuugi much later than that if his previous findings are to be trusted. Normally he would happily snooze the morning away with Yuugi but he doesn't want to go back to bed, the restlessness still buzzing under his skin even though that unpleasant tightness in his chest has ebbed and is now just a nuisance instead of actual, painful anxiety.

He turns around to face the bed so he can take another look at Yuugi, properly. A glance wasn't enough. Will never be enough, he realises all of a sudden. I want to be looking at Yuugi, and only Yuugi, forever. How can his heart feel so big and full but so small at the same time?

Atem is overwhelmed, not yet used to the absolute link between his feelings and his physical senses, and he lifts his hand once more to his chest, almost desperately grasping his shirt and pressing his fist against his heart, to feel the beat of it, and the warmth of his body.

He has this body now and he should be so, so thankful for it, but at this moment he can only feel guilt. He loves Yuugi but has still put him through so much and he knows, oh how he knows, that the trip to Egypt broke him. Atem had felt Yuugi mourn him weeks beforehand, felt his grief he so valiantly tried to conceal - too bad their bond at that point was the strongest it had ever been and Atem knew. It took everything in him to keep on going, to keep on telling himself that this was the right thing to do, this was how he could repay Yuugi's kindness and let him go on with his life, let him be free. He had heard the modern phrase “if you love them let them go”, and wouldn't that have been so grand? To prove his love in such a poetic, profound way?

All that in spite of Yuugi's feelings screaming at him that to be separated was the last thing he wanted.

Atem chuckles, a bitter taste in his mouth. Despite having shared such an extraordinary bond, communication had never been their strongest point, duels usually excluded, and talking about their feelings was not an exception. Still isn’t. They both had just kept on doing what they thought was the best for the other and in the process ended up wounding each other in ways that Atem isn't sure he can ever truly understand. Yesterday he had come down to the kitchen to find Yuugi folding laundry, eyes puffy and red, yet when he talked he sounded so happy. Atem had left it at that because there's nothing he could do when confronted by that smile that can put even the Sun in shade.

Slowly he realises that he's been staring at his partner for such a long time that it must be bordering on creepy. How did he get here from that warmth he first woke up to, from that love he so deeply feels for Yuugi? Why hasn’t he thought about these things before? It's like all he has in his head are questions with no answers to calm his mind. It's only been a week since... since it all should've ended, but didn't, all because of Atem's selfishness. Selfishness... and love. His own heart had broken when his life points counted down to zero and he saw the utter hopelessness he felt surface in his heart reflected right back at him on Yuugi's face. The memory of it is still so strong that he has to grit his teeth together to keep his jaw from trembling.

He hadn’t been able to stand that expression, to stand the knowledge that he was the cause of it. He wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t good enough. The pride he had felt toward Yuugi's skill was completely overshadowed by the grief that hit him in waves, his legs feeling like lead as he slowly walked to Yuugi, his own voice distant to his ears as he offered words of consolation and praise. Empty words, they were, he knew it then and he knows it now. How could he ever leave this person who had gone through so much for him, because of him, who had loved him so fully, who had risked it all to be there for him in his quest to regain his memories even when knowing that the price for that would be too steep to consider if Yuugi ever stopped to do that?

Atem had never wanted to leave. He had learned to live again, to have friends, and grow as a person, no matter how minuscule that growth might have been. Yuugi had been him and then Yuugi had become his world. There's no other way to explain it. As much as Atem had longed for his memories, for those people he loved and lost all those thousands of years ago, he couldn't bear the thought of losing another family. Even when the prize would be to regain his first one. 

But he had to. He had thought he had to.

Yet when he was just about to take the last step, he had faltered. Had wondered - does it have to be this way? What if there's another choice he could make?

And the gods had answered him. He didn't have to beg, he didn't have to fight, he just had to ask.

Just ask.

It had been so simple, in the end, so effortless. Of course, Atem asked for that third choice - or didn't really even ask, he didn't dare, he wished for it, his heart on the verge of breaking a second time. He had been painfully aware of his friends behind him, holding their breaths, waiting for the end. Atem felt their feelings wrap around him like a cloak and he bore the weight of it, accepted it, as he couldn't quite believe that it would be that easy to stay. So he had wished.

And that wish had been granted.

And now he is here.

Standing in the middle of the floor in Yuugi's room while Yuugi sleeps, hands closed into fists, both grasping his shirt now, holding back tears that threaten to spill forth. Wondering why did he even put Yuugi through all that, when in the end, it was for nothing? Oh, he thinks, oh, how it hurts. His own shortcomings, his own pain, the pain that he had caused others. Especially the pain that he had caused Yuugi. He hadn’t deserved it, he never deserved something so cruel and insincere as Atem's decision to leave had been.

A sob wrangles itself up and out of his mouth, he's not able to stop it in time and that breaks his resolve. He sways on his feet as tears force their way out and streak his cheeks, fall into his shirt and seep into the fabric as he hiccups and tries half-heartedly to stop it. He shouldn't be crying, not after everything he’s done. He doesn’t deserve to feel so sorry for himself - he should be the one to take responsibility, to carry that burden without a hitch. But, the thing is… at this moment, he’s no longer the prince-then-pharaoh from 3000 years ago. He’s no longer the amnesiac spirit occupying the Puzzle. He’s not the King of Games.

At this moment, he’s just a 16-year-old boy who is desperately trying to deal with every responsibility he’s imagined are only his to bear and failing spectacularly. So he cries, and cries, and he can no longer see with how blurry his eyes have gone. He prays Yuugi won't wake up to it, he just has to suffer through it and he'll be fine. Crying is fine, actually. He would laugh at himself if he could - aren't tears an actual luxury, after all? He wasn't able to cry his own tears with his own body before, but now he can.

There's a hand on his shoulder and Atem's heart drops into his stomach - oh no, now he's woken up - then another on the other side, then a tug, and Atem follows blindly. He's guided back to the bed and coaxed to sit down where a warm body presses against him and he's enveloped in an embrace.

Atem finds that he can't talk, he tries to draw breath to get the words out but sobs are the only thing he can produce and finally, he hears a voice call his name. It's so soft and warm and loving that Atem somehow feels worse and buries his head into Yuugi’s shoulder, his chest heaving and he almost wails from the struggle of it.

“Shh, other me. Cry it out. It helps. I know.”

He listens to Yuugi and does just that. It’s not easy to give up the reins but with Yuugi by his side, he finds the will to allow himself to succumb. He clutches his partner's shirt, holds him and is held in return, and lets himself cry. Lets his tears come like he's never done before and faced with the force of them, he feels like there's no end to it.

But there is an end. After a period of time that feels like an eternity, his sobs subside, his tears slow down, and he feels like he can finally loosen his hold of Yuugi's shirt to let blood flow into his fingers again. His nose feels snotty and he's sure there's no dry spot left on his partner's clothes and somehow that thought makes him laugh.

“See? All better now,” Yuugi murmurs against his temple and presses his lips there. That sign of affection almost makes Atem's eyes well up but he squeezes them shut, refusing to start crying all over again. He feels drained and empty and he's pretty sure he should be ashamed. He had woken Yuugi up and made him comfort him without asking but all he can feel is gratitude. Gratitude and love and endless adoration.

“Aibou,” he sniffles, voice congested and raw. He means to thank him but his throat closes up, yet Yuugi seems to catch his meaning.

“No need,” the shorter of the two says and Atem can feel his smile against his skin, “it's okay. You're okay, we're okay, everything's okay.”

Atem wants to argue but finds no energy for it. And - as he thinks about it, he realises that Yuugi is right.

They're okay.

He wraps his arms properly around Yuugi and squeezes, sighing softly. His mind is comfortably quiet now and he presses his ear against Yuugi's chest, listening to the beat of his heart (his heart's heart?) and feeling his own fall smoothly into the same rhythm. It's natural, it's right.

“I think,” he manages to croak out, “that we need to talk.”

Yuugi holds him closer and nods before pressing his face into Atem’s hair.

“Yeah,” he replies, sounding relieved, “we sure do, other me.”

[yikesharringrove]

Steveikes to think he can hold his own in the bedroom with billy but as soon as Billy’s starts with his particularly nasty brand of dirty talk, calling his ass a pussy and a cunt, talking about how he wants to keep Steve in his bed open and ready for him 24/7, how he wants to fuck him over the hood of the camaro or have Steve ride him while he’s speeding down the highways,,, yeah Steve goes dumb with it, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he lets out a long and loud groan, mind racing with all the filthy shit billy keeps feeding him with

Steve’s never had any complaints.

The people he’s slept with have always been well and truly sated.

He likes taking care of his partners, making sure they finished, that they felt good and comfortable.

He loves pleasuring his partners, sucking dick or eating pussy, making them feel good.

So it’s not that he thinks he’s some sex god or something like that, but he’d definitely say he’s not bad.

And he figures going into it with Billy, he’d stand a chance. Get to share in the give and take that Steve’s sex life almost always is.

And that holds up the first few times they have sex. When kinks haven’t really come out to play yet.

Billy’s good. His stroke came is not to be doubted, and his cock is nice, thick and heavy. Makes Steve feel so good.

Plus, like, he’s really great to look at.

So yeah, Steve’s having a good time. Participating fully in sex.

Until one night.

After a party at Stacey Adams’ house.

They’re both a little crossed, and Steve feels loose, feels good, Billy on top of him, lazily kissing his neck.

He’s coherent, and in his body.

Until Billy takes his wrists, presses them in one hand to the pillow above Steve’s head.

And pins him down, using all that bulky muscle to keep Steve just where he wants him.

And Steve’s not a small guy.

But he’s never felt more little, more meek and overpowered as he felt in that moment.

And Billy leaned forward, biting harshly on his neck before muttering in his ear, his breath hot against Steve’s skin.

“Can’t wait to get into that little cunt ‘a yours. Gonna destroy that pussy and make you beg for more.”

And Steve has never moaned so fucking loud before.

His eyes practically rolled back, his body arching closer to Billy’s, his shoulders straining from where his hands are still pinned above his head.

Because fuck. That’s new.

The dirty talk, the cunt mention, the begging.

And Steve wants it. He wants Billy to take him as hard as he can, to make him feel full and fucking good, to open up his hole and tell him what a nice pussy he has.

He just has the overwhelming urge to make Billy feel good.

Not in the way he usually does, to carefully and expertly pleasure his partner.

He wants Billy to use his body anyway he wants to get off. He wants him to take and take and take, to make Steve oversensitive and incoherent. He wants Billy to call the shots. To take control.

Fuck, he wants to be dominated.

Billy had one hand holding both of Steve’s wrists above his head, the other hand was sloppily pouring lube between Steve’s spread legs, making it drip coldly down his balls, run along his crack.

It was sloppy, and Billy grinned when he tossed the lube away, pressing one hand down to feel over Steve’s hole, purring in his ear.

“You’re so wet for me. This get you goin’? When I hold you down like a bitch? That what makes your cunt drip?”

It was gross, and so very hot.

Steve doesn’t think he’s ever spoken to a girl like this. He’s pretty sure this is demeaning. And maybe that’s what makes it so good, the pure humiliation of it all.

“Tell me what you want, Sugar. Beg for it.”

Steve didn’t even have to think, Billy’s fingers gently circling his rim making him crazy and needy.

“Want you to finger me open, get me loose enough for your cock. Want you to fuck me hard. Fuck m-my, my pussy.”

His face burned, and his cock kicked, spitting precum over his stomach. Billy grinned. He pushed one thick finger forward, and Steve moaned loudly at the intrusion, the sweet pressure as he opened up for Billy.

“God, you’re so easy. Such a fucking slut. Don’t know how your pussy stays so tight, the way you gag for cock. Maybe I should just keep you nice and open then, what do you think? Tie you up in this bed, keep you plugged up and loose for me to use anytime I want. Nothing but a cocksleeve for me.”

“Yes, Billy, fuck. I want that. I want you to use me.”

Billy drew his finger out, pressing two in at once, pushing them in and spreading them open, making Steve’s toes curl.

“What will you let me do, Stevie? Let me fuck you in public? Bend you right over my car and take you in front of the whole fuckin’ town?”

“God, yeah. Show everyone what a whore I am for you.”

It was making Steve so goddamn hard, calling himself a whore. Being taken by one by now three of Billy’s fingers. Picturing himself being claimed, being fucked, in broad fucking daylight.

And then Billy’s fingers were gone, and Steve actually fucking whined.

“Really, Baby? You want my cock that bad?”

All Steve could muster was a pathetic little mmn-hmmn in confirmation.

Billy reached down to slick up his cock, sliding it along the excess lube all over Steve.

One little adjustment, and the blunt head of his dick was pushing against Steve’s hole, just teasing him, barely even breaching his rim.

Billy leaned forward over him, and Steve thought he was going in for a kiss, let his eyes flutter closed.

And something wet hit his cheek as Billy thrust forward, ramming his cock inside Steve the exact same moment he spat on him.

Steve cried out, his mind going blank as he writhed, back arching off the bed, shoulders flexing as Billy still held his arms over his head.

Billy was fucking him brutally, knocking the wind out of Steve with every buck of his hips.

It felt like Billy was everywhere, and Steve was just a drooling fucking mess, barely even registering the words coming out of Billy’s mouth.

“-filthy fucking slut. Just a wet hole for me to use. Don’t even give a fuck if you finish, just gonna fill your cunt with my cum, watch it drip outta you like some brain dead little bitch.”

It was so hot.

“B-Billy, feels so fu-ucking good,” Steve could barely get the words out as Billy rammed his cock in and out of him, stretching him so wide it was bordering on painful.

“Your little pussy’s so tight for me. So fucking wet, you’re makin’ a mess of the fucking bed. What’s Stacey gonna think? When she comes in here after the party and finds the sheets ruined. You think she’s gonna know? Know that it was King Steve who got sloppy enough to leave a goddamn puddle? Know that it was me who got you on your back? Stuffed my cock so far up your sweet cunt you won’t be able to sit tomorrow?”

“I-I want her to know. Want everyone to know.”

“To know what?”

“That I’m, you make me-I’m your slut. Want everyone to know how, how good you fuck me. And how w-wet my pussy gets for you,” Steve stuttered out, his cheeks burning.

And then the pressure on his wrists were gone, and all of a sudden Billy’s fist was closing tightly around Steve’s cock, stroking him in time with his rough thrusts.

“Should drive through town with you squirming on my cock.  Roll down the windows, blast the radio, and let everyone see what a mess you turn into for my dick inside you.”

Billy gave one final tug, and Steve nearly screamed, his entire body going tight as he came all over them, covering himself and Billy with his cum.

He felt exhausted after, boneless and absolutely fucking ruined.

But Billy kept going, still fucking into Steve just as rough, just as brutal, getting himself off.

“That’s right, Sugar. Just lie back and let me take care of myself. Just use your fuckhole to finish off and leave you so sloppy and wet.”

And he did just that, bucking a few more times against Steve, sucking a punishing hickey onto Steve’s neck, no doubt leaving a huge mark Steve would probably whine about tomorrow.

He pulled out of Steve, sitting back on his heels to watch as his own spunk dripping slowly and beautifully out of Steve’s hole, puffy and pink and abused.

He pressed a kiss to the inside of Steve’s knee, the music from the party thumping away through the walls of the random bedroom.

Billy helped Steve stand up, pulling his underwear and jeans up and on for him, even buckling his belt, planting another kiss to Steve’s belly.

Steve felt loose, felt tired and fucked out. He felt fucking amazing.

“How was that?” Billy felt more on the nervous side.

Steve had gone along with everything Billy was talking about, had even cum harder than Billy’s ever seen, but he’s not sure.

“So fucking good, Bill. Gonna make you do that again someday soon.

Billy grinned at him as he zipped up his fly, pulling his shirt back on over his shoulders.

“‘Course, Baby. Gotta treat my princess right.”

Steve smiled at him softly, and they leaned in together for one last kiss before finding their ways out of the bedroom, leaving at different times, hoping not to draw any suspicious attention to themselves.

Steve caught Billy’s eye from across the living room several minutes later, raising one eyebrow and jerking his head towards the front door. Billy nodded once, their signal for leaving the party and heading back to Steve’s for the night.

Billy got in his car, following Steve home from a distance, hoping with his whole heart that Steve still had some of his cum left in him, some that Billy could use his fingers to fuck in and out of Steve before only adding to the load.

[generallybarzy]

☆star☆

an: ahhh! my semester ends in 3 days so i should be doing missing assignments but instead i’m writing a fic about the isles won tonight!!!! Almosy 2k in 2hours I'm proud of myself!!! But mostly proud of the isles let’s go my babies i’m so proud!!!!!!!! Here's a fic about rewarding barzy with some soft sweet lovin after his game!!

tagging: @selenophileangel @deleausvp @dunnwithlyfe @smit41 @softboybarzal @fallinallincurls @matbaerzal @brokeninsidebutnobodyknows @hockeyhughes11 @folkloreflyers @nazdaddy @shawnsreputation @comphybiscuit @aboveaveragehockeyboys @canadianheaters @ifiwasshawnmendesidslapmyself @baby-cat-nol-pat

word count: 1.9k

warning: smut 

Mat missed this.

No matter how many times he stepped on the ice over the off season to stay in shape, or how many hockey games he played just for fun with his buddies in B.C., nothing could compare to the adrenaline of the real game. And certain games especially- such as playoff games and opening night. Opening night always set a precedent for the rest of the season; a good opening night was a great way to predict the season, and a great opening night… well, that was a great sign. Mat had missed this so much.

But, more than he missed the game, there was something he missed much, much more. Something almost better than the thrill of the game itself- coming home. Getting to come home after a win and seeing you. His girl. 

For a long time, Mat dreaded coming home alone after games. He’d stay out with his buddies as long as he could to revel in the excitement of the win and to feel the glory, maybe find some girls that would spend the night talking about how amazing he is, how much of a star he is, before he brought them to his apartment for the night and had them leaving before he even woke, early in the morning. But now, he didn’t have to do that anymore. No, he loved to come home. Because you were there. If you weren’t at the game with him, you were always there, waiting and ready to jump in his arms and congratulate him the second he stepped in the door.

The second the elevator opened on his floor of the building, he could see you standing in the doorway to his apartment, donned in his jersey and a pair of sweats, eyes locked on your phone. Your eyes shot up at the ding of the elevator that marked Mat’s arrival, and immediately, a smile brightened your face. Oh, how Mat loved the way he could always make you smile. 

“Baby!”

“Baby!” he mimicked with a smile as bright as yours, holding out his arms for you as you bounced over to him, giddy and excited.

“Baby!!!” With one last laugh, you tossed yourself onto him, and Mat caught you with ease, familiar with this post-game routine. His arms tightened around your back and tugged you close, and your legs wrapped around his waist. “You were amazing! My star!! My baby!!” His beautiful little giggles escaped his lips as you peppered kisses all over his cheeks, and soon he was setting you down. 

“Let’s get inside.” 

You grabbed his hand and nearly dashed inside, leaving Mat to chuckle and follow quickly, closing the door behind himself and dropping his backpack at the door before being pulled back down into you. Your arms came up to wrap around his shoulder, holding him tight and curling your fingers through the hair at the back of his neck. You stayed like that for a moment, tangled up in each other in the entrance to his apartment, his hands on your waist and his nose in your hair, just enjoying each other’s presence, the comfort of your bodies touching in such a wholesome way, before you tugged his face down by his hair and lay your lips on him in congratulations.

“You’re so amazing, Maty. You did amazing tonight. It was crazy to watch.” You continued to pepper kisses across his face, his cheeks, the little cut he’d gotten during training, his cute chin, his nose, there wasn’t a part of him you didn't love. “You’re such a star baby, God. First it was your new contract and now tonight’s opener? God, I’m so proud of you. Couldn’t be more proud. I love you so much.”

He pulled back, a smile in his eyes when he saw the honesty in yours. His heart throbbed at the thought of making you proud. “I love you. Thank you for watching.”

“I always watch.” 

“Yeah? You’re my good luck charm.” 

“Yeah?” 

He gripped your waist tighter, sliding his big hands up the back of the jersey you were wearing, over his number, over his name- the name you wore so proudly. “Yeah.” 

“And you’re my star. My gleaming, beautiful star.” 

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. Now, let’s get you out of this suit, okay? Then I can really reward you for how amazing you are.” 

“Yes, please.” 

This was something else Mat missed about the season, the way your hands- so small and gentle compared to his own, compared to how he’d been playing all night- traveled across his body as you undressed him, stripped him down to his boxers and laid him out on the bed. He loved the way you kissed down his chest and thighs and told him to lay back and get comfy- you were loving him like he deserved. He loved it so much, the intimacy, the praise, the sweet talk. You had still done this for him over the off season, of course you had, but there was just something about getting back from a game and getting his reward that he had just missed so much. 

God, he’d missed his post-win blow.

He let his eyes slip shut and his head fall back against the pillow as you kissed his legs and tugged the last piece of fabric down this thighs. “I love your legs, Maty. So strong, they make you so fast, so good at what you do… and they’re hot as fuck.” You kissed all the way up his high and over his hip bones. “You’re hips, God, you can set a rhythm, if you know what I mean.” 

He laughed. “You can’t say ‘if you know what i mean’ if you’re literally about to blow me.” 

“Why not?” Mat just smiled again as you kissed up his stomach and chest, mumbling praises as you went. You curled your fingers through his and brought his hand up to your lips, and he opened his eyes slowly to watch you lay a kiss on each knuckle, gentle and soft. “I love your hands, the way you’re so skilled with them, during games you have all these amazing stick maneuvers, like that goal tonight. I know that was all for me. And you’re so skilled at touching me. It’s amazing.” 

“Mmm.” Mat was almost drowsy, the way you touched him and kissed him pulling him into a trance. “I’ll show you some of those skills later.” 

“The ones you use on the stick or on me?”

He laughed again. “Both.”

“After this, baby. I wanna reward you first. My star. My baby, my talented, sweet boy.” You planted one last kiss on his lips before scooting back down to his hips where his desire was aching for you. Your bottom lip tugged between your teeth like it did whenever you saw him, and Mat swore he could’ve come at just the sight. Your fingers rubbed slow circles against his naked hips as you pressed kisses up his length and finally- Mat thought- finally took him into your mouth. A soft moan fell from Mat’s lips, a breath of pleasure, a sigh of relief at the feeling of your lips around him- he would never get over it. You took your time, drawing out his pleasure as much as you could, but never holding anything back from him. This was his night, after all. He deserved this. 

The build up was slow, slow and soft and gentle as ever, starting low in his tummy and growing stronger and stronger by the second. It wasn’t the normal orgasm he’d have when he was on top, where he’d have to work for it, but one that built up and up and up that he got the pleasure of getting to lay back and experience it’s entirety- making it feel even more drawn out. Usually he’d be too busy to notice it until he was practically coming already, but now he could savor it, all the way from the little spark inside him to the rumbling fire that erupted. 

“Baby.” His hand came down to stroke your face.

“Maty,” You pulled back to praise him, laying wet kisses along his length. “I love you. You’re so amazing, so talented. You’re so talented, beautiful, sweet.”

“Baby!”  

“Let go, my sweet boy. Don’t hold back, you deserve it. You deserve it all, the awards, the contract, the 21 million, the star of the game, the attention. God, you deserve it all. And most of all, you deserve to come. Can you do that for me, pretty boy?” 

“Shit. I love you!” His mouth fell open in a string of praises, and his head dropped back again as your lips wrapped around him one last time before he erupted, thighs trembling and hands gripping yours like a life line. The groans that left his lips were some you’d never forget, how needy and desperate they were, how thankful he was to get his relief. He was breathing deeply in the aftermath of his orgasm, listening to your soft praise as you wiped your slick hand on his abdomen, vowing to drag him to the shower later to clean up. 

“C’mere, please.” He urged you to crawl up his body, pushing your hair behind your ear and pulling your down to cuddle against him, holding your body close and letting you feel him clam back to softness- both mentally and physically. He rolled to his side, keeping you tucked against his naked body and laying kisses across your face, just wanting to savor this moment for a few minutes longer. He was always so cuddling after coming, and you always found it so cute. Soon, his whisper broke the warm silence. “Did you mean what you said?”

“About?”

“Me. What I deserve.” 

“Baby.” You lifted a hand to stroke through his hair, knowing exactly what he needed. “You’re so good at what you do, I’m not kidding. And this new contract, it’s amazing for you. Tonight just showed everyone who doubted you just how great you are. How you’re worth it. And I swear, years from now, you’ll be playing with some new kids on the Islanders who grew up watching you, who grew up wanting to be like you. You’re building a legacy right now.” 

A flush lit up his face at the thought and a hopeful grin broke across his lips. With sleepy-half lidded eyes, he sighed. “I love you.” 

“Hm. Not more than I love you, star.”

“Oh no, much more.” 

“Impossible.” 

He just smiled and shook his head, knowing no one was winning this argument. Both of your loves were unmatched, and he was so, so lucky that was the case. 

“You know what else is great about you, Maty? How you’re still such an amazing person. You’re a hockey star, the isles’ golden boy, you have all this money and this fame in the hockey world, but you’re so humble still. You’re modest, you’re down-to-earth. You’re a guy anyone can talk to. I love that about you. It’s not just how talented you are, but it’s you as a person. You’re really going places, one day.” 

“Yeah?” His throat tightened and his words came out harsh and cracking at the thought of that. It was the future he’d always dreamed of. And to be told of it by the girl of his dreams seemed too good to be true. “You think so?”

“Yeah.”

“I hope. And,” he cleared his throat, a little stuffy, but smiling nonetheless. “I want you there for all of them.” And you couldn’t think of any better outcome.

“I can’t wait.”

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Diary found in K---D--- : Part 2

So, here's the next little part of this :D

Imagine by @lathalea is indented!

Enjoy <3

Taglist: @shrimpsthings, @mulasawala (so you see where I'm going with this lol)

(Yes, there will be MORE artwork coming, stay posted...)

Fandom: Hobbit

Characters: Ori x OC

Rating & Warning: Fluff and silliness

His name was Ori and he was a scribe in Erebor. It turned out he visited the forest often to sketch the animals and plants. You spent the rest of the day together. In the evening, you exchanged campfire stories, sharing a meal. At one point, he shyly asked about where you came from. Blushing, he admitted, almost whispering, he never saw a person with such beautiful hair before.

You told him that you came from another world, from a region called East Asia, where many people looked similarly to you. He was very curious about your homeland, your culture and your world. You spent hours telling him everything about it and he listened to you in awe.

“Ori.” He replied, his lips quirking a tiny bit as if he was not used to speaking his own name. “I’m a scribe. In Erebor. The Mountain.” He pointed to a tree beyond the clearing.

Thankfully, I was familiar with the Lonely Mountain and did not think that he didn’t know the difference between a living organism and a pile of minerals.

“I have never seen you, neither here nor in that Mountain.” I replied, for I went into the halls sometimes to translate for travellers, but for the most part, I let the king be his grumpy, glorious self.

“I come here often, to sketch, but I seem to have lost my way.” He admitted with a tiny frown. Ah, a real dwarf. They only knew up and down seemingly and if there was no way into a hill, they’d stubbornly trek up until they tumbled off the other side again.

As if to prove to me that he was not lying – dear reader, he had a face that was utterly devoid of malice or dissimulation – he showed me rather good sketches of the fauna and flora of the dense forest surrounding us. “That is really good, Ori, the scribe, from under the Mountain.” I commented which made him blush with a fierce and, apparently, unexpected pleasure.

In an expression of indescribable cuteness, he literally wiped his face with his sleeve as if he could clean away the rosy hue like a stubborn ink stain from under his skin.

“What are you here for?” He then asked, pushing out his chest heroically. As a reminder, he was the one who had lost his way, but apparently, he wanted to defend either the forest from me or the other way around.

“I am here to think…in silence.” I replied; he retreated a few steps. “Oh? I’ll leave you to it then, I guess. It was great to make your acquaintance…”

I gave him my name, after all, he had given me his, and he chewed on it for a few moments before his face split into a smile that was like the sunlight breaking through the cloudy afternoon sky: tentative, warm, and strikingly beautiful.

“Stay. I like your face.” I heard myself saying. Maybe, it was my teasing, mischievous streak acting up, but I had liked his embarrassment so much that I couldn’t help wanting to coax more of these blushes out of him.

“My…face?” In that weird dance he had been engaged in for the last few minutes, Ori stepped closer again, shuffling his feet in the heavy boots dwarrows insisted on wearing.

No, your ass, I thought, but bit my tongue; Ori the dwarf looked like someone who would die on the spot if I said anything even remotely inappropriate…as I was wont to do when nervous.

My sarcastic thought spurred my own interest though and I examined him a little closer: he was indeed swaddled like a babe, beads of sweat pearling down his temples on account of the steep climb and the stubborn blush powdering his nose and cheeks with pink blotches.

“Sit down, you’ll get a heat stroke.” I invited him and pointed to a patch of moss beside me while rummaging in my pack for the flask of ale I had brought.

“Thank you ever so much.” He plopped down in a cascade of earthen-coloured wool and awkward limbs. He did smell warm, I noticed, a blend of cinnamon and comfort.

Also, he had one of those faces that only became better when seen up-close, I admit freely; there were golden stars dancing in the depth of his dark eyes and he had the most adorable freckles as if some outlandish fairy had sprinkled gold dust over that heart-wrenchingly handsome face.

“Are you thirsty, Mistress?” He asked, nodding at the flask in my hand.

Handing it to him rather abruptly, I realised that I had spent the last moments intently staring at his face as if I had never seen a male dwarf before in my life.

“I have work to do.” I snapped, feeling immediately guilty for taking my own embarrassment out on him, but he merely nodded and pulled his sketching supplies into his lap.

Strangely enough, Ori did not disturb me. If anything, the silence felt fuller, richer, deeper with him by my side. As I translated a letter, as a spinster I had to support my family and my insufferable sisters as best as I could, I felt like the chirping of the birds and the vibrancy of the colours around me were even more enjoyable now that I shared them with someone else.

…

The sun crept along its never-changing arc slowly and yet, much too fast.

As I looked up, I wished I was a better painter myself, for this dwarrow was made for sunsets.

The way the last golden hurrah of a perfect day exploded in a halo of warmth around his figure, the way all the greys and the blues seemed to bleed out of the world to leave nothing but warm tones behind, and the way his smile was the perfect expression of this mellow, unhurried mood…it struck me deeper and more violently than a thunderstorm in all its booming rage would have.

“Will you join me for dinner, Ori?” I asked gently, “I shall escort you back down.”

“It would be my honour.” He nodded, tearing out a page of his notebook and handing it over.

“It was an invitation; I do not demand payment.” I said seriously, for the sketch of the doe was so good, it might have been worth actual money. “Oh…” His nose crinkled at little at that.

“I wanted you to…have something beautiful. I have seen you work very hard.”

Of course, he was a scribe as well, he would consider the scribbling work, I thought and gave him a thankful smile. “You’re beauty enough for one day.” I shrugged.

He gasped, bringing his notebook up to his face as if to shield himself from my words.

“You’re having me on, aren’t you? Dori has warned me that girls do that sometimes.” He sounded utterly dejected. “I am not having you on. Has nobody ever told you that you’re handsome?” It was my turn to be wide-eyed with shock.

“And who is Dori?” I followed-up when he didn’t really reply to my question even though I thought I had seen his braids move like strings of pearls in a draft. The minutest of shakes of the head, a quiet admission of inadequacy that sunk ugly, ragged claws into my soft heart.

“He’s my brother. I have two of them. Dori…and Nori. They’re…” – “Older than you.” I completed. “Protective.” He supplied.

He was still holding his drawing out to me, and, after a moment, I took it gingerly and put it between the pages of my own writing supplies. I would hang it in my room and look at it daily.

Nowadays, there were but very few gifts for me; all the money went to my two younger sisters who were still nubile and would, if Mahal willed it so, be able to make a good match.

Busying my hands with making a fire, I asked him to tell me about his brothers.

“Oh, Nori is…agile. He’s…funny and brave and resourceful.” Ori started, his voice warm with affection and admiration. He sounded like a proper rogue to me, and as it turned out, he was, but he also deserved every single ounce of the deep-felt care Ori held for him.

“Dori is…fussy. He’s polite, he’s very caring, and he’s exceedingly proper.” Ori went on as I waved a hand for him not to stop. I enjoyed hearing about the life of other families than my own.

“So, is he the one who raised you to be this…warmly clad and gentle?” I asked, turning to place the foodstuffs I had brought up and stored in the cool lake water on spits to roast over the fire.

“Warm? Oh yes…I was a sickly pebble and he’s been worried ever since. I hope I have behaved in a way that would not make him disappointed in me.” Again, he worried his lip.

“Let’s see, you’ve startled a bird and an unsuspecting dwarrowdam.” I listed with a wicked gleam in my eyes; his face fell, and he looked properly guilty.

“Then, you’ve kept me company, and the best company I’ve ever had, it has been, on my grandmother’s grave, I swear.” I went on and that treacherous blush was back with a vengeance.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.” He then said in a low voice. “Great beauty is always startling.”

“I am hardly Thorin Oakenshield.” He laughed. Readers, you cannot imagine that sound just by reading my words. If flowers blossoming had melody, if the sun setting on the eternal sea had a song, if autumn leaves dancing on a gale had a tune, they would have sounded like nails on scree, like cats having their tails trampled, and like kettles going unheeded compared to Ori’s laughter.

“There’s beauty in the doe as much as in the wolf.” I replied gently.

“May I…can I ask where you’re from? I don’t seek to be rude, but I’ve never seen anyone quite like you; your hair looks like those fabrics the Elves weave. It…seems so soft, so liquid, so smooth.” He blushed a darker shade yet.

This might well have been the first time that someone had asked me about my origins without making it sound like an accusation; there was honest fascination in his demeanour.

“My family and I have come from the Far East. I have travelled a lot, Ori, I have seen landscapes entirely made up of rock and sand, I have walked forests so stiflingly hot and moist it felt like being underwater, and now, I am here in the land of tall trees and taller mountains.”

I said, surprised by my own frankness.

“That sounds amazing.” He took the food I offered readily enough, and I told him about the people I’ve left behind to be stranded at the other end of the world.

“This is good, is that a recipe of your homeland?” He asked, looking down on the piece of meat I had seasoned with herbs I had grown myself in our small backyard.

“It actually is. I’m glad you like it. I had not planned to have company, otherwise I’d have brought something more palatable to the local tongue.” I apologised quickly.

“No, I like it. You should definitely trade some recipes with Dori…and Bombur…oh, and if any of your delicious herbs are medicinal, Óin.” He laughed again when he saw my dumbfounded expression.

“I make a good honeycake, if I can interest you in that? Maybe…” He fell back into silence.

…

A look at the sky told me that it was too late to go down in the inky darkness.

“We’ll have to stay here for the night.” I mumbled, slightly uncomfortable at the idea of spending the night with a dwarrow who had not lost a single word about a wife.

“Are you married, Mistress? Will that endanger your wedlock?” He asked shyly.

“No, I am not and I have no name to lose…It’s a long story.” I didn’t feel like blurting out my disgrace, lest it give him strange ideas after all, especially as he would easily have been able to overpower me if he so chose.

“Neither am I. I don’t know about my name…Doesn’t look like I’m going to be married either. There’s not enough dwarrowdams as it is, and I think the royal line has a prerogative there.” There was no resentment in his tone; he seemed to accept this as a fact.

How could someone that sweet not be married, I wondered. He was courteous, he was cute, and he would have made the fortune and happiness of someone.

“Well, in that case, I think we can risk our reputation rather than our necks.” I grinned, rolling out a blanket I kept tied to my pack for emergencies and stretched out next to the fire on the moss.

“Erm, yes…Good night…” He mumbled, fidgeting around with his different layers of clothing. Apparently, he was deciding which one he needed least on his body to use it as a bedroll or blanket.

I eyed the proceedings with interest and a good deal of amusement.

“I can offer you my cloak to lie upon…the ground will grow very cold and wet soon.” He said in a low voice, not sure if I had already fallen asleep or not.

“Alright, I can offer you a spot under the blanket then?” I extended my own graciousness.

“With you?” No, with the red bird, I thought, rolling my eyes internally.

“Yes, Ori the scribe, with me. I will not eat you, as you have witnessed, I have had dinner.” Not that he did not look good enough to devour, standing there with his cloak in his hands and his face all crunched up in embarrassment.

“Hmmm…I guess.” He muttered doubtfully, spreading out the cloak and sitting down on it carefully. Impatiently, I scooted over and spread my lousy blanket over the both of us with a flourish.

“Sleep!” I commanded as I turned around only to find him staring wide-eyed at the spot where the back of my head had been only a second ago. Now that he was presented with my face, only inches away from his, his eyes grew even rounder and bigger in wordless distress.

“Friend…Have you never lain with a woman? And I literally mean, lying next to one?” I laughed for there had been friends and cousins aplenty in my own life and the feeling of having another body so close to mine was not a new experience for me.

“Well, I fell down on the battlefield once, next to a foe…I’m pretty sure that was a Lady-Orc. She was dead. There was a…” He gestured, indicating a spear or a lance sticking out of his chest and brushing against my own with the back of his hand. Dear reader, he flinched back as if I was a tiny Durin’s bane wreathed in flames.

“A Lady-Orc, indeed…” I mused; no doubt, he could hear the smile I hid in my voice for his face crunched up in embarrassment.

“I am sorry.” He sighed, rolling his eyes, and thinking – there was not a shadow of a doubt about that much – of his brothers who would have mocked him mercilessly for his stammering.

“There’s no need to be sorry” I tried to reassure him, but I admit now that there were things that I did not tell him right away then. We had only just met, and he was blessedly unaware of my shameful past.

How could I have made him understand – without hurting his feelings – how much I enjoyed that air of purity about him that I had squandered myself on an undeserving fiend? As a daughter amongst others, I had been used to dwarrows coming to court or to seduce, their eyes ablaze with greed and their hands wandering.

He would not have comprehended how much the absence of that voracious hunger that had plagued my youth and had ended up destroying my promising future meant to me.

“Sleep.” I repeated, unable to put into words how miraculous and precious the things he seemed to be most ashamed of were to me.

“Good night, Mistress.” He breathed with a soft smile that was nowhere near the wolfish baring of fangs I was used to and so, it was easy to return it.

You who may or may not have stumbled upon this ludicrous account of the most important story in an otherwise unimportant life, you shall hear another confession I did not make at the time.

I was fiercely aware that – had I but leant forward a little – I might have pressed my lips upon his; I was young still at that time and, despite what had happened, parts of me, that should have withered and died in the aftermath of my botched engagement, were much alive.

He smelled like our dinner and warmth, and the gentle reticence of the curve of his smile was more inviting than any flashing grin I had ever seen before.

Yes, in that very moment, on this very first evening, I had already been conscious of the shrewd attraction this self-effacing dwarrow held for me…and it scared me half to death.

…

Part 3

[duuhrayliegh]

watch your six - part seven

pairing: bucky x reader

warnings: violence? (not much though), knives, bad crying

word count: 3545

a/n: this is part seven!! i have no idea where this is going, so we’re all being shocked by the events occurring :) i’m proud of this one

p.s.: my requests and tag lists are open!!

xoxo ray

watch your six series m.list

ray’s m.list

“Okay, just lay back, this might be a bit jarring for you, so sorry in advance.” This woman couldn’t have been much older than you. You were still a bit fuzzy on what exactly was going to be happening, despite her already explaining everything.

Your eyes passed over the group around you. Tony Stark was behind a clear topped table with tools scattered over it, tinkering with his suit helmet. He was muttering about how he hated HYDRA blasters while the eye slits of his faceplate flickered between blue and a lifeless gray. Natasha Romanoff was sitting next to Clint Barton. Natasha was speaking to Clint, her gaze not leaving your form. Clint was oblivious to what was going on around him as he began reloading his quiver.

Steve Rogers was in the corner with Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes. Steve was standing facing away from you, arms crossed over his chest as he spoke with Sam. Bucky was leaned against a table, sharpening a knife that he held with his metal hand. Honestly, the action made your jaw clench every scrape. You locked eyes with his steely blue pair, he didn’t blink, attempting to assert dominance or whatever an alpha male would do.

Fingers snapped in front of your face which brought your attention back to Wanda. “I need you to lay back.” A deep breath passed through your lungs, exhaling heavily through your mouth. Swinging your legs onto the table, you straightened your body, settling your arms at your sides. “I’m going to place my hands at your temples and then we’ll begin, okay?” You were thankful that she was making sure you knew what was going on. Nodding in response, you closed your eyes at her instruction and she began counting backwards from three.

Streaks of red danced behind your lids and you could feel your eyes trying to follow them. You swallowed harshly as a memory jolted to the forefront of your mind. You were thrown head first into the recollection.

Gemini stared at you, snapping her fingers in front of your face like Wanda did. “Hello? Are you with us or not?” Her black hair swayed against her shoulders. “Libs, I’m going to need you to quit drifting. If you do that on a mission, it could be life or death.” She berated you, walking to her half of your quarters. Your head shook back and forth, mouth moving with the memory.

“Yes ma’am.” You snickered at her, sticking your tongue out at her shocked expression. “When do you think they’re going to assign me a mission?” You were practically bouncing off the walls at the thought alone. Unbeknownst to you, this wasn’t all in your head. Wanda could see the memory in real time, but the others could hear your end of the memory as well. You couldn’t stop your mouth from voicing your half of the conversation.

“You know, I don’t know the answer to that, Libby.” Gemini pulled her desk chair out, straddling it backwards, resting her forearms on it. “You just need to have some patience. It’ll come, just give it time.” You groaned and raised your body into a sitting position, leaning forward with your palms on the edge of your bed.

“I don’t like waiting, Gem. Part of the reason why I fast tracked through the training program.”

“You fast tracked through the training program because you were naturally good at everything we threw at you, Libra. No other reason than that.” She laughed at your facial expression. The Avengers around you were confused as to why your face morphed into one of annoyance.

“That may be the case, but I still got into the Virago. And on top of that, I’m the youngest of the Zodiac.” A proud smile stretched across your face. “Plus, I got teamed up with you and let’s be honest, that’s the real accomplishment here.” She shot you a look and you both giggled. A ping sounded from the sound system in the ceiling.

Zodiac meeting in ten minutes. Be in the conference room and ready by the time I get there or there will be consequences.

“Oh, looks like you might be getting a mission sooner rather than later, Lib.” Your eyes widened at the possibility, excitement rushing through your veins.

“Or they could be just calling us in to yell at us again for sucking it up in training.” Your body shuddered as you thought about a few weeks ago. Your CO had hired help from some elite company to assist with the Zodiac training. It didn’t end well when you didn’t meet their standards. “Let’s hope it’s a mission, that would be way better.”

Your body jolted and you fell off the table, quickly catching yourself before you completely face planted into the concrete floor beneath you. Pushing yourself to sit your ass on the cold floor, you looked around the group. Confused faces were spreading, Natasha and Bucky seemed resigned, as if they had more knowledge. Wanda helped lift you onto your feet, checking to make sure you were okay.

“I’ve had dreams about that place before, about those people.”

“You didn’t think that was important to tell us?” Tony sassed from behind his table. “If you had memories resurfacing, then that means you went through something to suppress them. Like Tin Man over there.” He jerked his head to Bucky, who had a solemn look on his face. He had stopped sharpening at some point, and now he was talking to Steve about something.

“You have something you want to share with the class, Barnes?” You were so done with secrets being kept from you. Everyone around you seemed to know what was going on with your life more than you did. Steve stared at you from beside Bucky, hands on his hips, accentuating his Dorito shaped torso.

“I remembered something about the Virago.” Was all he replied with. You were waiting on him to elaborate on what he meant.

“Wonderful. What did you remember about it? I’d really like to know what the hell is happening.” You started towards the man across the room. He had information that he wasn’t giving the room at large to work out. “And if you’re the thing that’s preventing me from going back to my normal life, we might have a problem, Barnes. So, if you would oh-so-kindly, provide all of us with your newly discovered knowledge, that would be greatly appreciated.”

You had made it about the halfway spot of the room when Bucky silently unsheathed his recently sharpened knife and aimed it at you. Time slowed as you watched the blade spin through the air. You moved your upper half to the right, dodging the slice and catching it with your left hand. Your body continued without your guidance as you rushed Bucky, pushing the blade to his throat. Blinking brought you out of your dazed state as you recognized that you were now pressing the sharp object hard enough against his neck to draw blood.

Retreating quickly you dropped the knife to the ground. A resounding ring reverberated through the now silent room. Your hands shook and tears gathered at your waterline. What the fuck was that?

“The Soldier was tasked with training the Zodiac, current and future.” Bucky’s rasp was the only noise beside your exaggerated breaths. “I knew you were going to catch it, by the way. It’s instinct for you.” He leaned his weight back against the table, crossing his arms over his broad chest. Wanda was the next to speak.

“You realize you just scared the shit out of all of us, right?” You weren’t quite sure if she was referring to you or Bucky, but you guessed it didn’t really matter. You swallowed harshly, biting back the need to cry. Who the fuck am I?

“I’ve heard of the Zodiac.” Natasha was next, still sitting comfortably atop the table next to Clint, legs crossed underneath her. “They were like the Americanized version of the Red Room’s elite. It started out as a SHIELD organization but that didn’t last long. As soon as HYDRA found out, they figured out how to take it over. I think their first plant was a woman named Bianca?”

“What else do you remember?” Steve was commanding the room as you thought he would. It wasn’t until he placed a hand on your shoulder that you realized he was talking to you. “We need you to walk us through your dreams, Y/N. Just so we can get a clearer picture, it’ll probably help spark Bucky and Nat’s memories too.” He shifted his hand to hover over your lower back, guiding you back to the hard table. Climbing up, you closed your eyes and recalled the other two dreams.

“Um, I remember getting my first mission assignment? Actually, it might have been my only mission assignment.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because it didn’t end well?” You said in a duh tone, gaining your confidence again. You had no reason to lose it before, you just found out that you were kind of a bad ass. “The whole group was tasked with getting some data from this Louis Richardson guy? He was a part of the Svengali, that was what Suits kept asking about. Supposedly Richardson was a high up guy because they put all of us on that one.” You shook your head, trying to clear up the memories. “It was my first assignment, so clearly I was excited to prove myself a useful addition to the Zodiac.”

“What was the mission exactly?” Tony questioned from his spot.

“Half of us were monitoring the party, making sure if there was a fight that the public didn’t cause a riot. The other half was Plan B. We sat outside the safe house Richardson was allegedly using if his drop went south.” Your breaths shuddered again, recalling what happened next. “Of course, it did. We were only supposed to monitor it, but Gem decided that the info was too valuable to let it slip by us. So, we went in and everything went to shit.”

“My instructors talked about that. They said that they killed everyone though. How did you manage to slip by?” Natasha asked, shooting you an inquiring glance.

“Obviously, she didn’t because they had to wipe her memory, like Manchurian Candidate.”

“Gemini and I were the last ones left and then she sacrificed herself so I could escape, get back to headquarters, those were her orders. Stop drifting, watch my six and run like hell to HQ.”

“Well, that’s how they were able to wipe her.” Bucky added quietly, his mind elsewhere.

“If HYDRA had already taken over the Virago, then they would’ve been able to take her without question.” Natasha finished Bucky’s thought as she watched you on the table. Steve stood next to you, squeezing your shoulder as a comfort. You glanced at him and saw a motherly expression had taken over his features.

“Why would they wipe everything though? They still could’ve used her?” Wanda questioned from her position next to Tony. “I mean, if you were a natural like Gemini said that you were, then I’m sure HYDRA would’ve found something to do with you.” Bucky walked out of the room quickly, leaving the rest of the occupants stunned as to his sudden departure. Steve jutted his head at Sam who followed Bucky. Tony was working through all the facts tumbling around in his head. He began talking to Friday about gathering any information she could find on Louis Richardson and several other things. You sat in silence, continuing to sort through half broken memories and dreams.

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

Bucky had to get out of that room and away from that woman. Sensory overload was overwhelming him, increasing his need to evacuate. He stepped outside, inhaling the scent of freshly cut grass. He dropped his head into his hands, sinking to his knees on the ground. Bucky despised being vulnerable in front of people. During his time as the Soldier, vulnerability was punished harshly. He was used to swallowing his emotions, shoving them into the dark corners of his mind. Now being free of HYDRA's grip on his mind, he still struggled with displaying his emotions. All he wanted to do was shout until his throat was raw and his voice scratchy.

“You okay, man?” Bucky had figured it would be Sam. An almost neutral third party with experience in counseling veterans, plus Steve was busy dealing with Y/N. Bucky continued to inhale deeply from his crouched position, not responding to the man behind him. Sam took his increasingly calming breaths as a sign that he wasn’t about to keel over. He came up next to the man, stretching his hand out to Bucky for him to grab. “Come on, old man. Talk to me, what’s going on in that cyborg brain of yours?” Bucky shot the man a weak glare, while pulling himself to his feet, resting his hands on his hips. He brought his right hand up to rake through his dark hair.

“I remembered something else, Sam, and I just couldn’t be in there with her anymore.”  Sam hesitated to ask, almost afraid of the answer that he was going to receive, but he knew he needed to.

“What did you remember, Bucky?” There was a heavy pause hanging in the air between the two. They both knew what Bucky had remembered, but it needed to be said out loud to be real.

“Her screams.” There were tears gathering on Bucky’s bottom lashes, threatening to spill over. Sam outstretched his hand to Bucky, not offering pity to the man on his knees. Sam knew what it felt like to be pitied, not a feeling that he wanted to bestow Bucky with.

“You’re going to be okay, man. It’s going to take time, but it’ll happen.” He faltered before continuing, “You know you’re going to have to talk to her about it, right? If you remember, she will too eventually. Especially if she keeps working with Wanda, they’re going to get to that point. It’ll be better to hear it from you than for her to waltz in there unprepared.” Bucky nodded solemnly, bringing his right hand up to scratch his stubble.

“I know.” His voice shook slightly. “But how do you tell someone that you didn’t do anything while they got tortured and experimented on?” Sam’s eyes searched Bucky’s for any sign that he was forgiving himself. What Bucky did when he was under HYDRA’s thumb wasn’t his fault, but this was going to set Bucky back.

“Look, you know that was the Soldier who just stood to the side because you, Bucky Barnes, would’ve done something.” Sam reassured the man with silent tears tracking down his face. He placed his hand on Bucky’s metal shoulder before giving it a squeeze. “Damn it, I can never remember which one it is.” They laughed at his comment, Bucky knew it was for his benefit but he was thankful for it.

The pair entered the compound again, hoping to avoid anyone for a few minutes so Bucky could recollect himself. They weren’t that lucky though seeing as how when they walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water, the whole team plus one was gathered around the granite countertops. If any of them noticed Bucky’s red-rimmed eyes, they chose not to say anything, thank fuck for that one.

“We’ve decided that Y/N will be staying here for the foreseeable future.” Tony piped up, breaking the silence that hung over the group. “She’s going to continue to work with Wanda for her memories.”

“I still don’t like this Tony.” It wasn’t often that Steve openly disagreed with Tony, so when he did, it turned heads. “She shouldn’t have to go through with this for us.” Tony opened his mouth to reply when Y/N spoke first.

“Excuse you, Captain. She’s right here and she can make her own decisions.” Her arms crossed over her chest defensively. “You seem to be forgetting that there is a whole part of my life that has been stolen from me. I want it back. If I have to do this to get it back, then that’s what I’m going to do. Helping you is secondary, I just want to make that clear.” A smirk formed on Bucky’s lips, no one stands up to Steve, mostly because he’s usually right.

“I couldn’t have said it better myself.” Tony turned to leave, probably going to his lab to tinker his anxiety away. He pointed a finger at Y/N on his way out. “I like you.” A satisfied grin spread over her features, she’s proud of herself. The first thought that popped into Bucky’s head was that she was being adorable, but he quickly squashed that idea. Not happening, you let her get hurt there’s no way that she’s going to want you. Bucky didn’t sense Steve approach him, too lost in his head.

“You good, Buck?” The man wanted to say no. He wanted to have his Stevie back with the couch cushions on the floor and the newspapers in his shoes. He wanted to go back to 1941, before he got drafted. He wanted to go back to his Ma’s cooking and playing with Rebecca. Hell, he wanted to go back to pulling stick-man Steve out of back alley fights. However, Bucky knew that wasn’t how it worked.

“Yeah, I’ll get there.” Bucky knew that he had it good now. The Internet, less boiled things, no Polio, this unfortunately was a good time period to be stuck in. He just hated that he missed everything else. He missed Rebecca graduating high school and walking her down the aisle, it hurt his heart to think about all the things he wasn’t involved in.

“Where am I staying, room-wise?” Y/N’s voice cut through Bucky’s thoughts, allowing him to refocus on the matters at hand. He needed to figure out how to tell Y/N what he remembered, and that he was sorry, but that will come later.

“There’s an empty room next to Wanda and Vision, I think?”

“Yeah, that’s not a good idea, they’re loud.” Clint cut in, then leaned towards Y/N. “Pillow fights.”

“Okay, well then there’s one next to Sam’s.” Natasha replied, making a face at Clint’s comment. Bucky stiffened as he pictured their room’s hall. The first door on the left was Steve and Bucky’s was next to his. Across the hall was Sam’s room in front of Steve’s and the empty room was opposite Bucky’s. He wasn’t thrilled with the arrangement, but he also wasn’t going to argue with Natasha, not after what happened the last time he did.

“Sick, will someone show me where it’s at?” Steve volunteered, needing to get something from his own room anyway. Bucky sighed heavily at Sam who was wearing an encouraging expression.

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

“Okay, so this is my room and Sam’s is here.” Steve held his arm up to pick out each room. “This is Bucky’s next to mine and then this is you.” It did make you feel a bit better knowing that you were surrounded by some of the most skilled fighters ever. “Bucky has an apartment in the city, so he’s not usually here. He uses this room when he’s here for missions or check-ups, but Sam and I are always here. We’re either training recruits or out on a mission.” You bobbed your head in acknowledgement.

“I’m going to have to get some of my stuff from my apartment, clothes and shit like that. Those bastards took my laptop so I’ll need to go get another one of those, too.” Steve faltered.

“Why do you need a laptop?”

“I do still have a job, Steven. Not all of us are superheroes or world class assassins. I’ve got to make a living somehow, and that somehow is actually-- oh my god.”

“What? Is everything okay?” Steve became concerned so easily.

“Yes, I just realized that I need to call my boss.”

“Look, Y/N. You’re going to have to take a leave of absence or something. Just while we figure all this stuff out. If you’re posting things online or you’re talking to people over the phone, then you can be easily tracked back to the compound.” Steve placed his hands on his hips. “It’s just easier for everyone, if you just lay low for a while. No work, no outside communication.” Your jaw clenched.

“That’s fucking ridiculous. How am I supposed to make a living, Steve? I can’t just live in constant fear because of this. I want to be able to carry on with my life.”

“If HYDRA gets ahold of you, you won’t have a life to carry on with.” Steve had taken steps closer to you. You gulped causing him to back up. “You’re going to work with Wanda and follow our rules. This is for your own good, Y/N, I swear it is.” Nodding numbly, you opened your room door and flopped onto the bed as soon as you saw it. How the hell did I get myself involved in this?

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