#I mean talking to myself in the mirror is pretty disruptive when I need to go to sleep (the mirror is across from my bed)

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

Perverse intrusive thoughts manifesting themselves in dreams is the actual worst.

[yakumtsaki]

Tragically, I have returned. I’d like to begin this update by thanking @lurking-lilibeth​ for solving the mystery of how tf Sugar died: apparently the ‘struck by lighting’ memory is glitched and sometimes won’t show up, so the conclusion is Sugar got hit by lighting, his needs went to shit, and he crawled to the bathroom to die. A death most befitting Sugar, if I say so myself! How cute are the zombs??

-They sure are, I wanna be struck by lighting, become a zombie, and go on a date with Sandy too! 

Sophito istg, first you roll Jojo’s werewolf bs, now this, GET YOUR OWN THING

-Forget about my faildad and look at me being all pretty and wholesome and non-conspiracy-to-murderous!

YOU. Seriously, it’s been like 2 months since the last update and I still haven’t recovered from the reveal of Felina’s ‘real self’. Admiring herself in the mirror while her uncle died, there hasn’t been such a stone cold bitch around here since VICTORIA.

-I’m a stone cold bitch! Aren’t I, Servilia, you lil’ cutiepie baby booboo?

I mean you’re definitely formidable, Soph, especially when babytalking to the dogs, but you must admit you have mellowed out a lot in your old age.

-WHAT?! ME??? I’M SOPHIE THE TERROR FUCKING MIGUEL, I FEEL NOTHING. NOTHING-

-SERVILIA NO!!!! TAKE ME INSTEAD, I HAVE NOTHING TO LIVE FOR, NOTHING

-Gee thanks, grandma.

-GET OUT OF HERE YOU NON-DEATH-REACTIVE FREAKSHOW

Ya team Sophie on this one. Rest in piece Servilia, you were sweet, cuddly, batshit insane and gave us a dog heir that looks like a deer. I’ll miss you baby❤️

Felina can you have one shred of dignity and wait till Bartholomew’s birthday so this can be an even fight? 

-Did HE have a shred of dignity when he RUINED MY PARTY???

Well no but I reprimanded him for it too!

-NO YOU DIDN’T

I didn’t? Probably too busy laughing, either way knock it off!

-I can take care of myself, GET REKT, FAILINA

-HE BIT MY FINGER OFF, YOU LITTLE SHIT, ONCE YOU’RE A TEEN I’M GOING TO MURDER YOU

-I’LL MURDER YOU FIRST. I’LL MURDER YOU TONIGHT IN YOUR SLEEP

SOPHITO FATHER OF THE YEAR DO YOU MIND INTERVENING AT SOME POINT

-Is Klaus getting a little fat, Remington? 

-I think so, you should put him on a diet.

FFS, MOVING ON

I’m happy to see Cyneswith come out of mourning, and I’ll continue to hide my shock that she was in mourning in the first place.

-Does you metal back feel a little less tense now, iVan, huhu?🌸 -𝙸𝚃 𝚂𝚄𝚁𝙴 𝙳𝙾𝙴𝚂. 𝙸𝙽 𝙲𝙰𝚂𝙴 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙲𝙰𝙽'𝚃 𝚃𝙴𝙻𝙻, 𝙸 𝙷𝙰𝚅𝙴 𝙳𝙴𝚅𝙴𝙻𝙾𝙿𝙴𝙳 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙰𝙱𝙸𝙻𝙸𝚃�� 𝚃𝙾 𝙻𝙸𝙴.

That’s great, iVan, are you ever gonna develop the ability to do something around here that isn’t fighting zombies and banging the elderly?

-𝚈𝙴𝚂😉

How did you even wink??

Cyn is such a good ‘grandma’, bro I cannot. WHERE WAS THIS SHIT WHEN SUGAR WAS A KID

-I was young and hot back then!💗

You know what, enough is enough, I’m breaking this cycle of bad parenting!

Liz stop vibing with Shajar and get your ass downstairs.

-But I love Shaj! -And I love you, Liz, you’re the child I never had! 

Ok is it me or is it really becoming clear that both Shaj and Cyn wanted daughters?? Whatever, LIZ GO DOWNSTAIRS AND TALK TO YOUR DUMB EVIL KIDS

-FINE

-Little detour hehehe!  -Oh Soph, let’s get a pool table in here and relive our youth!

GO TALK TO YOUR KIDS I WILL KILL YOU BOTH

-We totally totally will, just give us 2 hours- -3 hours- -Yes, 3 hours, to ‘get ready’- -Hehe! -Huhu!

I HATE YOU

-Alright kids, we are here for you.  -We absolutely are. For 10 minutes, then we have to go upstairs again. -Exactly. So let me just start the clock here, aaand we have 10 minutes, alright, GO.  -So kids, fighting is bad.  -Yes. And we are family and we love each other.  -Right. So no more fighting, ok? -Yes, good talk! Let’s go, darling.

-If I might address the elephant in the room- -Oh he’s gonna talk too? Ok. -9 minutes 28 seconds.  -I have done my best to hide it as to not disrupt the family BUT FELINA IS BULLYING ME. -WHAT?! THAT’S IT, I WILL DROWN YOU IN THE TOILET -Felina!

-HE’S LYING, HE’S BULLYING ME, HE’S THE WORST BROTHER IN THE UNIVERSE AND HE RUINED MY PARTY, YOU WERE THERE YOU REMEMBER -We were?! -I have no fucking idea.  -WILL YOU STOP WHISPERING, WE CAN HEAR YOU -Ya you’re not even trying to whisper, you’re just talking in normal volume italics. -STOP AGREEING WITH ME -EAT SHIT

-ALRIGHT. This has gotten out of hand and we need to leave in 7 minutes and 17 seconds, so here it is. Bartholomew, you are the worst brother in the universe. -HA.

-Felina, you are a psychopathic robot. You are both terrible, terrible kids. But.. that’s just how Union kids are! -Exactly, by our standards you are normal and that’s why everyone hates our family! -So when you go out in the world, you’ll have to rely on each other because everyone else will despise you!  -They will?? -Honey, everyone hated me and your father, and we had way more going for us than you two.

-So.. no more fighting?? -No more fighting. -And being a Union is a bad thing?? -It’s not bad, it’s just that there is a preconceived notion around town that we are.. umm.. -Trash! -Trash, thank you, babe. 

-So, now that we’ve cleared this up, we’re gonna go!  -You kids get along from now on, cause you only have each other! -And don’t bother us anymore!

Well, that’s all better now. What’s up, Vic?

-THE FUCK WAS THIS SHIT~

A heartfelt family discussion, clearly!

-THE KIDS ARE FIGHTING AND THAT WAS THE BEST THESE LOSERS COULD DO?!~

Um, do I need to remind you of your parenting?

-I RAISED JOJO!~

Is that supposed to be a flex?

-I’LL HAVE TO TAKE CARE OF THIS LIKE I DO EVERYTHING ELSE!~

Oh, goodie!

-FELINA UNION~ -AAAAAAAAAA WHAT THE HELL  -I AM YOU GREAT-GREAT-GRANDMOTHER!~ -Ya I KNOW, I worship you!  -GOOD. THEN YOU MUST HEED THE ADVICE YOUR DUMBASS PARENTS GAVE YOU AND MAKE UP WITH YOUR BROTHER! UNITED WE STAND, DIVIDED WE FALL!~ -But I hate him and I wanna win the heirship so I can damnatio memoriae him! -FELINA, I SENSE A DARKNESS IN YOU~ -Well you better, I didn’t rebrand for nothing! -REMEMBER, THE HEIRSHIP ISN’T A FIGHT TO THE DEATH!~ -FINE, I’ll remember it! Will you go away now? -I WILL.. BUT IF SOMETHING THREATENED THE FAMILY I’D HAVE TO COME BACK.. SO DON’T MAKE ME COME BACK!~ -Crazy dead bitch! -I’M STILL HERE!~

It’s a new day and this lot is FUCKED, we’re def gonna have to gtfo. The fire that started the night Sugar died IS STILL GOING but is not acknowledged by anyone, we just have a permanent glitched fire burning in the background. SYMBOLIC

-Mmmm.. Now I know what I want for my birthday.. Failina barbecue!

Try again!

-How about a kitty? 

‘Grew up badly’ memory avoided at the last second! Ugh I’m such a pro gamer. 

Welcome to the fam, Wendy! Wendy is really cute and mean and is gonna have kittens with Shinok! Alright Barth, time to blow the candles..

-Can I blow my parents’ brains out instead? 

Ya can’t blame you on this one, WILL YOU TWO KEEP IT IN YOUR PANTS FOR 2 MINS 

Alright, here we go, I’m not even gonna ask what you’re wishing for because we all know. 

Glitched yard background fire: 🔥🔥🔥

-WOOOO IM HOT

Not so fast, the Ti-Ning nose takes no prisoners! 

-Failina has it too!!! >:(

Well it looks better on girls, what can I tell ya! Whatever, let’s roll for your aspiration, don’t even THINK of rolling family too..

-Oh don’t worry, I sure won’t!

UGH. At least we have a normal chem panel for once as Barth likes fancy bespectacled non-blondes. Boy do I have someone in mind for you! 

NOP NEVERMIND IT’S CYN ROUND 2. FML

Ok Barth, here is your interim makeover until I download some stuff for you, how do you like it?

-I don’t know, I feel there’s something missing!

That’s just your soul, don’t worry about it!

-No no, it’s something else..

Alright I see where this is going..

-Now that’s better!

Oh ya, you look.. there are no words.

-HOW DARE YOU STEAL MY CROWN IDEA YOU FUCKING UNMOPPED VOMIT CHUNK -AT LAST THE CROWN RESTS ON THE HEAD OF SOMEONE WHO DESERVES IT -IT DOESN’T EVEN MAKE SENSE WITH YOUR OUTFIT

She’s got us there, Barth, you look ridic. 

-YOU, SHUT UP, AND YOU, FAILINA, BRING YOUR HAND CLOSER SO I CAN BITE THE ENTIRE THING OFF

-YOU’VE GONE TOO FAR THIS TIME, BARFOLOMEW. STYLING IS OFF LIMITS, IT’S THE HOLY RULE OF THE FAMILY, YOU WON’T GET AWAY WITH IT!!!! -I DON’T CARE AND I WILL GET AWAY WITH IT!!!!

AM I THE ONLY ONE CONCERNED ABOUT THE ETERNAL BACKGROUND FALL-OF-THE-HOUSE-OF-USHER FIRE. GO TO SCHOOL, BRATS

-HEHE, here I go, first day of high school wearing a crown! Now everyone will know who’s boss!

Wow yea, that will def make people think you’re awesome and cool! 

-WOAH NICE CROWN -WHO IS THE NEW KID

WTF

-I’M BACK, LOSERS, AND I GOT AN A+ ON MY FIRST DAY THANKS TO MY BEAUTIFUL CROWN

-A̸N̵D̴ I G̸O̵T D̶E̸M̷O̴T̵E̵D A̶N̷D B̴R̷O̴U̶G̴H̶T M̴Y E̷X W̸I̷F̸E H̸O̸M̴E W̶I̴T̶H M̶E🧟

Seems like an amazing day for everyone! Where’s Felina?

OH THERE SHE IS. FELINA WHAT ARE YOU DOING

-I CURSE THIS BLOODLINE

HOE DON’T DO IT

-I CURSE IT TO DAMNATION

OH MY GOD

[chrisevansgoodgirl]

zodiac theories for cevans characters

Okay, let’s go, sluts. (I would just like to say that this is all supposed to be fun and no one should be offended. I’m a Scorpio, which means that I’m insane, which mean I’m not actually judging anyone bc I know I’m insane.)

We’re starting with Jake Wyler:

Now obviously it’s hard to determine anything from a spoof movie. But that baby was an Aquarius. My proof? Idk, he was kinda rude and dumb lol. (I mean that in a loving way, you weird ass aliens) And there’s also just the fact that he doesn’t really look like any other zodiac sign and I feel like Aquarius are sometimes hard to identify because none of them ever really look the same.

Kyle from the perfect score:

Taurus. He seems grounded and logical, so that points to an earth sign. But if he was a Virgo or a Capricorn, he wouldn’t have needed to cheat lol. He’s also so against the idea of the SAT system, pointing to a stubborn personality. (I’ve only ever seen bits and pieces of this movie so I could be wrong)

Cellular was basically like a fever dream and I couldn’t pay attention to it. And I haven’t watched Fierce People because I’m scared I’m going to like his character but he is too fucking young for that.

And Johnny Storm:

A fucking Aries. Why? Because fire, but Leo is too obvious. He’s also a little more than hot headed on a few occasions and his impulsiveness is sometimes mistaken as a lack of intelligence. I have a particular liking for Aries and I find them very misunderstood and underrated, also how I feel about Johnny.

what does this mean about how he fucks you? I’m going to say it now, he has a public kink. He likes that he has celebrity status, which totally raises the stakes of getting caught, and increases the likelihood that you guys will get caught since he’s always been watched and followed. And disrupting arguments when he gets too angry to verbally express his feelings, so he just has to fuck you to show you how he feels.

Oh, poor baby, Syd:

That man is trash and too fucking emotional. I also felt like he weaponized those emotions, pointing to him being a water sign. But he’s not a cancer nor a Scorpio. This man who I love but will never be able to trust is a Pisces. I feel like he has that Pisces arrogance when he’s talking to London about god and why she believes in god. Alternate: Leo. Because of those mentioned emotions and arrogance. He was also pretty angry sometimes and I feel like him being a fire sign isn’t too farfetched.

what does this mean about how he fucks you? He has a god complex, meaning his most favorite thing ever is to get you on your knees and choke you with his cock. Things he has been known to do include making sure to get you on your knees in front of the mirror, you’re naked so he has the perfect view of your ass or you fucking your fingers while you get him off. Or recording you on his phone and he loves when you’re noisy and when you look up at him with your sweet eyes.

Mace from Sunshine;

A Virgo. I will not explain myself.

what does this mean about how he fucks you? I can’t really guess a lot but I can give you a scenario. Space sex—what would be more fun? But that means standing sex becomes something you’re both pros at. He loves fucking you against any wall you guys can find. Particularly, picking you up like you weigh nothing, your legs and arms just wrapped around him.

Harvard Hottie:

is hard to pick for bc he was so minimal, but I’d say a Gemini. Living two lives being that he’s so rich but having sympathy and “understanding” for the working people. I got air vibes from him but the other two just don’t make sense. I also don’t trust him so Gemini sounds right.

I will not be doing Paul Diskant bc it’s impossible to pick. All detectives seem like Capricorns or Scorpios. And I can’t do Jimmy bc I have never seen that movie. But if I had to make a guess, is he a Pisces?

my baby, Nick Grant:

Unexpected one, but he’s a Capricorn. I’ll take it a step further though and give him a cancer moon and a Aries rising. I would have said Aries sun but the plan at the end of Push? Nah. Too good not to be an earth sign.

what does this mean about how he fucks you? he uses his powers when he’s fucking you in literally any way he possibly can. it’s hard for him to find opportunity, but he completely goes out of his way to do so.

Jensen

That man is a hardcore Aquarius but Sag moon. He’s an almost himbo with one very specific skill that prevents him from being labeled a complete ditz. But he also has this odd intelligence about him that’s not traditional but somehow has gotten him that far in his life, so it just works.

what does this mean about how he fucks you? hard to say, honestly. Jensen is a hard character for me to pin down personality-wise, but I do think he has a lot of pride in what he does. Tech. So yes, in any way he possibly can, he will utilize tech in sex. That means sexting, that means video calling any time he’s on a mission and can manage it.

Lucas Lee:

that’s a Leo. No explanation necessary.

Mike Weiss:

That’s a Scorpio, my loves. Addict, shitty person, this unexplainable darkness for no god damn reason. The cheating is a little foreign to me (I hate cheating and I could never imagine cheating on a partner and like lying to someone you once loved about still loving them, I don’t think there’s anything more sick than that) but Scorpio men are a different kind of trash so. But also lonely, desperately reaching out to people just trying to feel some type of deep connection.

what does this mean about how he fucks you? obviously, there’s going to be something lacking here if he’s always high or fucked up, but when he can, it’s just going to be the most intense thing for no fucking reason. Sometimes you’re even like ‘can we calm down?’ But I see him loving eye contact, with him either on top of you or caging you in on any flat surface. But he’s also super closed off so I see him just being such a toxic hookup and he keeps you guessing and waiting and you never know if he’s going to want to fuck you again, but he’s also just magnetic and charismatic and you are addicted to him.

And of course, we all know Steve is a cancer.

Which is why I have not given that sign to anyone else. I don’t think any other character was as emotional as Steve, nor as kindhearted and selfless, up until it was for that one person that he would have given everything up for. So like, you know, a martyr until he just couldn’t be. I didn’t see that in any of the other characters. I also must say that I have fallen in absolute love with cancers, it’s expected as a Scorpio, but lemme tell you all…it’s hell. And hell is loving Steve Rogers after that ending, am I right?

what does this mean about how he fucks you? obviously we know he loves intimacy and being close and missionary, and he somehow makes it really good. but there’s also the ego of cancers that no one really mentions. I know Steve had a lot of insecurity before the serum, so after? he loves using his body and making sure that you know how strong he is and that you’re watching certain parts of him. he loves turning you away from him, wrapping his arms around you, just grabbing you or choking you. he loves when you focus on his arms.

Colin:

I know what you guys want me to say and I genuinely refuse. No, he’s not a sag, he’s not a Libra. He’s a Taurus. Flirty bc he’s bored. But won’t change his ways because he’s so damn stubborn. Until he does want to change his ways and just expects Ally to fully bend to his plan. But he’s also a really sure character, he knows who he is and knows what he wants always.

what does this mean about how he fucks you? it means he’s stubborn. what does he like the absolute most? edging. 

Mr. Freezy:

Well, the devil, of course. Yes, I believe he is also a Capricorn. He doesn’t mind being alone, he prefers it. He loves his job and he takes pride in being one of the best names there is. However, alternate: Aries, I think an Aries would be trusting enough to take in a partner like Freezy did, and maybe a Capricorn just wouldn’t be capable of doing that. Regardless of sun, he is a Scorpio rising. Why else would he keep that creepy hair and wear those insane shirts? and that ice cream truck? Don’t get me started. He thinks he’s cute.

what does this mean about how he fucks you? that’s he’s fucking crazy. i see him really liking bondage, and like the extreme kind. but i know he can be good w aftercare, i just know it.

Curtis:

Man is a Virgo. He didn’t create the plan on his own, but he was willing to follow it without hesitation. He sacrificed a loved one for the plan, in a way only an earth sign could. But he’s not stubborn nor is he particularly cold. I think, despite the walls he put up, he was very desperate for love. I will give him a cancer rising too. It was that desire to be a martyr and the guilt of simply not being able to do it.

what does this mean about how he fucks you? attention to detail! so, legit, Curtis will learn how to fuck you and learn exactly what you want, what makes you come, what makes you do all of those little things he likes, like crying, begging, whining, before he even lets you do anything for him. he acts like fucking you is his job and all he wants is to be the best at it.

Nick:

Now hear me out because the next time I say this sign, the man is going to be the polar opposite of Nick. But honey doll is a Libra with a Scorpio moon. He’s fucking addicted to love and he can only fall in love so damn fast because he’s an air sign. And I’ll also give him a cancer rising because we saw how hung up he was on his ex.

what does this mean about how he fucks you? as romantic as Nick is, he never wants to stop fucking you. and it’s never quick or simple, he thinks it’s sacrilegious to not spend an entire night on you. butttttt it can be so slow and it’s mostly because he knows how mad it makes you sometimes. i picture this man eating you out until you’re threatening to break up with him if he doesn’t fuck you immediately, and okay maybe that’s an extreme reaction, but he’s made you come too many times and it doesn’t look like he’s going to stop unless you make him.

Me from playing it cool, impossible bc it was a pretty gross character. I’m not even interested in analyzing it. It’s just going to sound like I’m coming for someone if I try.

Frank:

my baby! My man is a Leo. I don’t know why I feel this way, but I think that whole calmness about him is a façade. He’s lying to us to lure us into a false sense of trust, then bam, you’re in love with him and he’s ruining your life. And he’s going to keep you around to hook up with you and then continuously break your heart and use Mary as an excuse. The real reason? He’s angry bc he caught feelings.

what does this mean about how he fucks you? before he admits he’s in love with you, he’s a huge tease. a huge fucking tease who constantly taunts you, and at first, it really upsets you because he just reduces you to such a fucking mess and thinks it’s funny, but you soon get over, even start to like when he calls you all those terrible names you would never let another man call you. after, that’s a lot different. he wants dates, serious, elaborate dates, and he loves telling you what he’s going to do to you and making you wait for it. but mostly he just wants to push you to the point where you’re so impatient, you just start taking.

Mr. Levinson:

is a Scorpio. He’s cold and cruel and all to meet his end goal. But there’s also that addictive aspect too, he literally couldn’t live a normal life. He needs to be out there for that specific mission no matter how many people want him to stop. And it’s clear that it’s only death that can stop him. And he’s super self righteous about it, we see that in how he talks to Sammy.

what does this mean about how he fucks you? truly skilled at quickly fucking you and genuinely never leaving you wanting (for anything other than a normal life with him ofc, but seriously, you couldn’t ask for more in your sex life) but you know what the best part of him is? the after-mission sex. he doesn’t say much but he fucks you differently enough that you start to learn what he’s feeling that way. and the best sex? after particularly dangerous missions where you took a risk you didn’t need to or got a little too close to danger for his comfort. he won’t yell at you or try to talk you out of being you, he understands what kind of life you both have, but the way he fucks you makes it clear that the last thing he wants is to lose you. and what’s after sex? soooooo muchhhhhh cuddling!

Money daddy:

We’ve already discussed it! Libra. But you know what? He’s hella evil. Virgo moon, that crazy plan was all Virgo moon. Leo rising, I have no actual reason for this other than I know three men who are Leo risings and they’re straight trash lol. They’re selfish and their actions are usually dictated by their irrational emotions. They always act like they’re right too, and like you’re insane for ever questioning them. And they’re super manipulative.

what does this mean about how he fucks you? nothing good at the start tbh. he’s going to pretend that you’re literally nothing more than a hook up, he’s going to play games and make you jealous, and only if you’re strong enough to stick it out, he’ll admit the truth. (which is that there was never anyone else as soon as he took you out on that first date) but other than that, we all know ransom has a degrading kink. which probably creates a lot of roleplay scenarios where you pretend to be various members of staff and he pretends to be a customer that’s less than pleased with your performance.

The daddy of all daddies:

again, we’ve already talked about it. he’s a Capricorn. But let’s take it further with a scorpio moon. All those walls he put up, all the lying, and keeping those feelings to himself, undeniably Scorpio, along with probably at least 3 other placements. But there’s also just something about him that is comforting and sweet so I’d give him a Taurus rising.

what does this mean about how he fucks you? well, the Capricorn makes him a fucking demon. he just always wants you under him, or at least bound, disadvantaged in some small way. he likes reminding you that he is in charge and that no one is better at it than him. but then that Taurus rising makes him soooooo good with aftercare and intimacy that practically suffocates you on those mornings you wake up together or the rare weekends you guys have before he demands that you move in with him.

[devildomimagines]

Could u do another "I'm not (blank) enough" requests but instead of MC saying something negative it'd be the brothers saying they aren't enough at something?

This was an interesting request, thanks Anon! I'm sorry it took me a while to get through it but I really had to dig deep to figure out what these arrogant, all powerful demons could feel insecure about.

Here is my other piece Anon is referencing: "I'm Not _______ Enough."

I changed it up a bit from the original but I hope you like it! Also I got carried away and this got pretty long so the other brothers are under the cut lol.

"Am I _______ Enough?"

Belphegor

“Am I reliable enough?”

You had woken up from your nap to his words, and asked “What?” While wiping the sleep from your eyes.

“Can you depend on me?” He reworded the question but didn’t make eye contact.

“Belphie?” You guided his face to look at yours.

“Actually never mind,” he backed out of the conversation and the bed.

“Wait,” You sat up and pushed out of the bed too, already missing the warmth.

Once in front of him, you stated, “You’re reliable!”

His blush was slight but you caught it before he amended, “I know that I’m not always hanging off you like Mammon or Asmo-“

“That’s ok!” You interrupted, “Sorry,” you quickly apologized when he gave you a look.

“But I know that with your sin, it gets physically uncomfortable to be awake for long periods like how Beel gets after not getting enough food. I know if I ever needed you,” you took his hand, “you’d be there.”

He took a moment to let the scene sink in before squeezing your hand, giggling, and roughing up your hair, “That’s right, bed head,” He teased.

“Yours isn’t any better!” You moved to do the same to him but he dodged.

The two of you continued to play fight but didn’t let go of the other's hand. Belphie seemed lightened by your confirmation and you enjoyed the rare bout of playful activity with the youngest.

Beelzebub

“Am I warm enough?”

“Heck yeah! You’re like a space heater!”

He laughed, “Thanks, MC.” But his smile faded too quickly.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I misunderstand?” You went from sitting across from him to sitting next to him at the table, “Do you not want to be a space heater?”

That got him smiling again, “No, that’s not it, I guess I meant warm like friendly?”

“Well then it’s a resounding yes, you’re super friendly Beel!” You gave his back a rub and a pat for punctuation.

“Oh… ok,” he went back to his snack which you assumed he would but his response wasn’t sitting right with you.

“Do you not believe me?” You looked up at him with your best puppy dog pout.

Congrats, your cuteness made the Avatar of Gluttony choke! He coughed and pounded on his chest with a closed fist.

You offered your apology and he waved it off as he took some gulps of his drink.

“No I do believe you MC.” He started covering your hand on the table with his and before your hand was completely enveloped he stopped.

“What is it then?” You prodded.

“Just a teammate commented on how I made chills run down his spine with just my stare.”

“Ah, I think Asmo would know that as a resting b*tch face,” you scratched your chin sagely

He frowned, “I can’t do anything about that, that's just how my face is.”

“Exactly! So don’t stress it, he’s still your teammate and friend, right?”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Beel mulled it over and you could practically see the weight of it rise off his shoulders as he sat up straighter and accepted it.

“There he is,” you thought as he exuded an easy confidence but your thoughts were disrupted when he pulled you into an embrace. He whispered near your ear, “Thanks.”

“Who could think this wasn’t warm?” You thought as you snuggled into his hold.

Asmodeus

“Am I attentive enough?”

“What brought that up?” You questioned looking up from your spot on his bed. It wasn’t like Asmo to show his insecurities.

“Just some gossip going around,” He tried to minimize the claims and continued fussing with his hair.

“Oh, well, you know how gossip gets, you just have to ignore it and it’ll go away,” you repeated the same advice he had given you when you first arrived in the Devildom and there were vicious rumors and tabloid articles written about the exchange program participants.

“But am I?!”

The hurt look on his face paired with the desperation in his question made it plainly obvious this meant more to him than he wanted to let on.

“Of course-”

Asmo cut you off, “MC, you have to be deadly honest right now.”

“You’re attentive Asmo,” You confirmed without a shadow of a doubt.

He chewed his lip and cheek debating the statement.

You got up from the bed and came to stand in front of Asmo. You cupped the cheek he was chewing on and he stopped.

With a small nudge you made him swivel to look back in the mirror, “What were the rumors saying?” Your own curiosity running wild, what could bring Asmo to this?

Surprisingly Asmo looked away from the reflection of you two to answer in a small voice, “That if I didn’t pay attention to you, they’d sweep in and take you for themselves.”

That stunned you for a second, you didn’t think it would involve you. “Well first of all, I don’t even know them, how are they going to even get close to me at this point?” 

Asmo considered this, you were always with him or one of his brothers.

“Second, you’re always paying attention to me, you probably know my facial expressions better than I do,” you laughed and he couldn’t help a small snort of his own.

“Third, even on days when you’re stressed, or excited about a new make-up launch and your energy is elsewhere, you always,” you squeezed his arm for emphasis, “ALWAYS check in on me.”

Asmo bit his lip once more but this time holding back a smile. He clearly couldn’t hold it back when he locked you in a hug and squealed your name.

Satan

“Am I patient enough?”

You knew this was something that he consciously worked on so you quickly confirmed, “Yes,” then turned the page of your book.

He was a little shocked at your quick resolution and not totally satisfied. He closed his book and asked, “There was never a time when you think I couldn’t have been more patient?”

“Well sure, but I think that about myself too.”

That was also surprising to Satan, “How? You’re even more patient than me.”

 “I’m only human,” You shrugged, as you closed your own book, recognizing this was going to be more of a discussion.

“And I’m only demon?” Satan returned sarcastically. He did not appreciate the turn of phrase.

“Sorry, I meant, I’m not perfect, no one is. You can’t hold yourself to an impossible standard because you’ll only be destined to be disappointed when you don’t live up to it.” You paused for the idea to settle with him.

He contemplated the sentiment.

“The way I see it,” you continued, “As long as you’re trying to do better then that’s what matters.”

Satan weighed that thought as well.

“And there is an even bigger secret with patience that not a lot of people know,” you baited.

Satan asked “And what’s that?” Hook, line, and sinker.

“I don’t know if you’re ready,” you taunted and reopened your book. If there was one thing you knew you could entice Satan with, it was some kind of hidden knowledge.

He moved across the room and closed your book in your hand for you.

You looked up at him looming over you with a sweet smile.

He smiled back at you, knowing you were playing with him. “And what’s that?” He repeated but you knew it was more of a command this time.

“Fine, I’ll share the secret with you so listen well.”

He started to nod before you caught his face in your hands. His eyebrows shot up to wordlessly question your action but didn’t break the silence, his proof he was listening.

“People don’t always realize that the most important part of patience is…” you paused and savored the interest in Satan’s eyes, “that you have to afford yourself the same patience you give to others.”

His brows furrowed trying to unravel the words in his mind. 

While he did so, you pulled his head down slightly so you could give him a quick kiss on the forehead. Then pat his cheek and released him. 

He took a step back, almost in a daze, you certainly gave him something to think about.

Leviathan

“Am I supportive enough?”

You looked up from the manga you were reading and Levi was staring down at the manga in his hand. His hands were holding the sides tightly as he waited for your response.

“How so?” You prompted.

“L-like this,” Levi pushed the manga towards you. You scanned the panels, the scene being depicted looked like it was one where the love interest was cheering on the main character while they were participating in a sports festival.

“Well you’re not like this,” you had to be honest and you could see he was already starting to sulk, “but you’re supportive in your own way.”

He tsked and took the manga back.

“Levi, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” you apologized.

“It’s fine,” Levi turned the page, “I know I’m a gross otaku shut in.”

“No, stop.” You closed the manga, you dug this hole so it was time to climb out.

He listened and looked over at you, annoyed.

“You’re supportive Levi. There are different ways to be supportive!”

He rolled his eyes, not believing you.

Alright this guy wants to play hardball, you could play with the best of them. “You always make sure that I’ve eaten and slept, even if you haven’t. For as long as we’ve had a pact, you’ve always come to my defense even though I know you hate confrontation. When I find a new show, game or book that I’m interested in, you always take the time to learn about it yourself so I can talk to someone about it.”

By the end, Levi’s face was red, his ears were red, you could swear his hands were even shaking a little bit.

“So sure, you’re not yelling your support from the roof of the House of Lamentation like that character,” you took one of his hands and his eyes darted between your face and your interlaced hands, “but I appreciate your quiet kind of support.”

Leviathan.exe has stopped working. It took a solid 5 minutes to regain his voice.

“M-M-MC!” he whined, “That’s so embarrassing!” He slumped down to hide his face but didn’t dare remove his hand from yours.

“Was it super effective?” You laughed at your joke.

He groaned from his drooped state but he squeezed your hand and you knew that it was.

Mammon

“Am I humble enough?”

At first, you have to bite your tongue to keep from outright laughing. 

Surely the demon who regards himself as “The Great Mammon” would see the irony in asking this.

But he was quiet and reflective, a stark contrast to his usual self.

You sat down next to him on the sofa in the living room, with a pat on his back you opted to offer what you thought he wanted to hear, “Sure you are buddy.”

“Are ya messing with me?” of all times for Mammon to be observant.

You were as bad a liar as he was so when you looked away and scratched your cheek instead of answering Mammon knew you were lying.

He sighed and his shoulders dropped as he caught his head in his hands.

“Well you don’t have to be humble!” You defended, feeling bad for your white lie earlier.

He peeked up at you and you took the opportunity to stand up in front of him, “You’re like the third strongest demon in all of Devildom! You should be proud of that!”

He rolled his eyes but you could see a shadow of a smile play on his lips.

“Not only are you strong but you’re very caring, not only to your brothers but to me too,” you suggested and on queue Mammon flushed.

“I’m not,” he tried to deny.

“Oh that’s not true. Remember when Belphie ruined that painting and you took the fall for it?”

His eyes opened wide in shock, “How did you-”

“Or that time when I was sick and you took such good care of me?” You added in a sing-song tone.

“Shuddup!” Mammon was now standing and placed a hand over your mouth as he looked around for his brothers. He looked back at you, “I got a reputation to uphold, y’know.”

After a muffled laugh, you pulled his hand away, “What I’m saying is you don’t have to be modest.”

“Yeah I guess when you put it that way,” He rubbed the back of his head considering.

“So what’s on the agenda for the day for The Great Mammon?”

He squinted his eyes at your teasing tone but smirked and grabbed your hand to drag you along. You went willingly with a snicker.

Lucifer

“Am I compassionate enough?”

He didn’t look up from the paperwork he was reviewing when he posed the question to you.

At first you tilted your head and wondered if he was even addressing you.

When he did finally look up, you knew he was waiting for your answer.

“Yeah, I think so?” You didn’t mean to phrase it as a question but were more concerned with how this even came up.

“You think so?” Lucifer repeated incredulously.

“Yes,” you reinforced, “where’s this coming from?” You were taking a risk in questioning Lucifer, there was probably a 50/50 chance he would actually answer. 

It was rare that he would even voice a question about his character.

He frowned and went back to his paperwork. You figured that was the end of the conversation, this being the 50% of the time that he would not answer. You went back to perusing his record collection to find something to play.

“Simeon mentioned how ruthless I’ve become.”

You looked back over at Lucifer. He looked more tired than he did just a moment ago. Simeon’s comment must have been wearing on him.

You picked a record you knew he liked and put it on before walking over to his desk.

He sighed, put down his pen and rubbed his eyes.

You leaned against the desk with your arms crossed and he faced you, the weariness even more apparent up close.

“Can I be honest with you?” you asked.

He grimaced, already thinking the worst but nodded.

“I think your ruthlessness comes from a compassionate place.”

From his one raised eyebrow, you could tell that wasn’t what he was expecting and he was waiting for your explanation.

“For example,” you began, “you care about your brothers, so when you punish them, it’s for their own good or to save them from a worse fate. You might not admit this one, but you’ve become sympathetic to Diavolo’s moods and disposition and so acting in accordance with how it will reflect on him and enforcing those standards has become second nature, hasn’t it?” He looked away.

You knew he wouldn’t answer that so you looked away yourself and continued, “You may have at first picked me as a candidate for the exchange program because of my connection to Lilith and housed me at the request of Diavolo,” you laughed at what you were about to say for the first time out loud, “but since getting to know me, I like to think that you’ve had a change of heart and genuinely care about my well-being despite those factors.”

There was a moment of silence and you felt your face heat up, nervous that maybe you overestimated your importance.

Before you could look back at him, he had stood up and enclosed you in a hug. You smiled, uncrossed your arms and hugged him back. 

He was humming along with the song so you made one more bold choice and started swaying in time with the rhythm. He chuckled, shifted to hold one of your hands, and properly led you in a dance around the room. 

You hoped his light footsteps were a reflection of how light his heart was feeling.

All signs of the weariness from moments ago were completely gone.

[you-did-well-moon]

Day6 Reaction to s/o learning their instrument while they're away

Type: Fluff, angst in Dowoon dont know what happened wasnt me

Word Count: 2.865

A/n: I took some creative freedom with why they were away but that is it. Keep in mind, I have no experience with instrument except for when I played the piano in 5th grade for like two weeks. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! - Moon

TW: small cuts, fight, second hand embarrassment

Sungjin

Sungjin was absolutely and devastatingly exhausted. His own guitar case felt like it was weighing him down tremendously, and he had a huge headache. Jae and Wonpil arguing in the back of the car was not helping in any way. It has been going on since they left the airport. He rubbed at his temples tiredly pressing his head against the cool window from his place in the passenger seat next to their manager. 

Still, he couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips as he thought about seeing you, probably curled up in the couch cheeks puffed from the snack you were inhaling. The pounding in his head lightened at the cute sight he would soon get to enjoy as he played with the loose threads of his old button up shirt. 

True to Sungjin’s imagination, your form was sitting on the couch. Not true to his imagination, you were actually bent over something in your lap, lightly humming and bopping your head to the rhythm being produced by your still clumsy fingers. The guitar in your lap had gotten lighter as the days went by without your boyfriend, and in replacement of his touch, leaving your fingertips warm and tingling, it was small cuts you hadn’t bothered to bandage as it disrupted you when playing.

 You missed Sungjin an abnormal amount. The cold spot in the bed or him making weird faces at you through the mirror in the mirror when brushing your teeth. You missed all of it. With a slight tremble in your chest you started playing the chorus to “You Were beautiful”.

You were so focused on trying to get it right you didn’t notice the door closing only to startle when you slightly looked up through your lidded eyes seeing the shadow looming over the coffee table. With a small yelp of surprise you jumped immediately looking up only to find your boyfriend staring at you with wide eyes. 

His surprised expression made you shrink into yourself. You threw your head into your hands in pure embarrassment letting the guitar gently slide off your lap, hitting the floor with a soft thump. “Can you just pretend you didn’t see that I can’t believe I even tried learning all that by myself I” you cut yourself off with an un-pleased sigh shaking your head and looking at him with pleading eyes. 

Your boyfriend continued in his frozen state for about five seconds before breaking out in the biggest smile rushing around the coffee table in which you panicked trying to get away from him with a squeal, but being too slow im the excitement that was usually in a much dormant state in Sungjin. The wrinkles near the corner of his eyes deepened adoringly, and his chest shook with soft laughter while he held you close. 

There was a fond twinkle in his eye as Sungjin forgot any tiredness that clung to his bones and kissed the tips of your fingertips while maintaining eye contact. He kept your hands encased in his when scolding you for having such low faith in yourself and softly encouraging you. He would probably put little stitch band-aids on your fingertips and continue teaching you, sitting you on his lap and scolding you when you lose focus with a sharp poke at your ribs smiling when you giggled. This man just fell impossibly more in love with you.

“You shouldn’t say those things, look at you love, learning all alone and doing so well. I'm so proud. Would you rather have the elmo band-aids or the stitch band-aids… I don’t know about you but Elmo kinda creeps me out. Just five more minutes little love then you can go mug Young k with Dowoon. Don’t look at me like that! You finally have a teacher and you take him for granted. The audacity-”

Jae

Jae was a thin hair away from just ripping his hair out. He didn’t believe the kpop industry would take very kindly to him going bald, but he had come to a point where he didn’t really care about what people thought anymore. But thinking about you not being able to play with his hair anymore while he drifted off to sleep with his head on your chest severely upset him.

 Jae had gotten stuck in another limbo, stuck in the studio and in his own head desperately trying to finish any of the unfinished songs left in his computer files. He missed you so much, he eventually called it quits, deciding to go home to you, who he hadn’t seen in days.

Just the thought about seeing you energized his previously exhausted self. He never could get sick of you. Every day, every week was a new adventure, a new chapter, all with his favorite person in the world. The night sky, although beautiful, seemed to mock him, reminding him of how late it was, meaning you were most probably asleep. 

Opening the door to his apartment, he heard soft music. He briefly recognized “I Need Somebody”, and thought you were playing it from your phone. All his thoughts came to a halting stop when he saw you perched on the bed, in his shirt, playing the melody of the previously mentioned song.

You had hair falling into your eyes with your eyebrows slightly scrunched trying not to mess up and heavily focused. Jae had loudly yelled in surprise, causing you to flinch and look up shocked at the sudden surprise. When you saw it was just him, you had comically thrown your hands in the air yelling at him about how it was supposed to be a surprise. 

The irritated look on your face vanished as you went up to give him a light hug with a kiss, softly smiling at him. Meanwhile Jae, was completely out of it, lovestruck eyes while he instinctively returned your affection.

“Come Jae, you look like you haven’t slept in ages, your eyes are so sunken babe”, you had softly whispered to him, rubbing the soft skin under his eyes, the way you were always soft with him when he came back from the studio. You slept in the same bed for the first time in what had been days, Jae tightly clutching on to you.

 He may have not been completely there at the moment, but in the morning when he had time to process everything, he was a changed man. He wouldn’t stop laughing and giggling excitedly, eagerly wanting to hear everything you had learnt. He even poked fun at you when you made a mistake. But it was all lovingly as he also praised you non stop while looking at you with his messy hair and big smile next to you on the couch. He had so much inspiration now. To finish what had been left behind.

“Pop off queen who gave you this much talent, you couldn’t even tell me what bass was last time we talked, which was like a week ago. Might just make you play when I don’t feel like playing. Give you a wig and people won’t know the difference! Why are you booing me, I'm right?”

Young K

Young K’s foot tapping on the floor of the car was the only sound that filled the car aside from the soft sound of the car’s engine and tires. He was absolutely spent, having to have stayed in a different city for a show he was invited to that was filmed far away from his home. 

Far away from you. Young K could tell his manager was starting to get irritated, but Young K was already massively annoyed and too far in his own world to really care. He missed the pine scent of his sheets, and he missed you.

It was not a good combination. When he got to his place he quietly thanked the manager,  getting his bag before trying to ignore every urge telling him to run into the building and fall into his soft bed with you in his arms. When he opened the door, your keys were there, so he knew you were in the building. That thought filled him with more relief than it should have. 

He did have to admit, hearing “I smile” this early in the day was odd as you usually saved the more mellow songs for later in the night. Young K told himself he had many euphoric moments in his life, but seeing you staring at a sheet of paper with so much determination and a bass guitar in your arms came pretty close to the top.

The absolute warmth that exploded in his chest was a feeling he would not forget in a long time. He could feel his lips slightly curl up in fondness as your hands shook while your eyes wavered unsurely between your hands on the strings and the video on your laptop sitting further on the edge of the bed. Your face scrunched up before you sighed and stared dejectedly at the instrument on your lap. 

“Why so sad love?" His voice made you instantly sit up, pushing the instrument gently off your lap. You crawled to the edge of the bed where Young K had already gotten closer where he met you tenderly running his hand through your hair, and he curved his hand around the back of your head bringing your forehead to his abdomen.

He brushed his thumb over where your hairline met the sensitive skin of the back of your neck immensely enjoying being back at your side. Your hands were clutching the back of his shirt, and your simple touch brought a warm feeling to his chest. You both leaned back as Young K’s chest started to rumble with laughter “You should have waited for me, it would have been easier if I could teach you”, he softly said, pushing your hair back from your face causing you to lightly laugh.

 “I wanted to surprise you, but I didn’t get that far anyways. Can’t become a prodigy in one day I guess”. Young K smiled again, promising to himself to help you as much as he could as he put his hand fondly on top of your head.

“You’re doing so good, just move your finger up a little, you’re plucking the c chord instead of the e chord during the chorus, don’t look at me like that i’m trying to help?! I wouldn’t put you on my level, but I think you’re doing really well. I’m hungry now, what do you want? No- What do you want? I am okay with anything just tell me-”

Wonpil

Wonpil was trying his hardest not to think about you. From the way you got excited when you got to see the moon in the cloudy sky to the way you smiled when you saw the neighbor’s cat while getting the mail. 

He was happy to be on a trip with her sister, he hadn’t had much time to be with her in recent, well forever really. While you had been invited, you hadn’t been able to attend due to work. Wonpil did his best to keep his mind off you and enjoy the trip, he just hadn’t spent this long without you in a while. 

Even so, he still had a fun time with his sister and her boyfriend creating many memories. He didn’t regret it, but he was extremely happy to come back to you. Opening the door to your apartment, he dropped his suitcase by the door, an excited smile tugging at his lips as he traveled through the apartment with his arms spread knowing you would embrace him as soon as you saw him. He felt so giddy, he didn’t even notice the broken keyboard sounds ringing throughout the living space.

His smile fell in a comical way, his face morphing into one of confusion instead. He recognized a broken rendition of “Mary had a little Lamb”, and tilted his head as he opened the door to your room seeing you with really big headphones on your head staring down at the keyboard with the most offended look on your face.

 How dare this keyboard not give you its secrets! Wonpil couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his chest, not mocking you, but he just thought you were so cute. He lightly touched your shoulder causing you to jump, and the slight movement of your head caused the headphones to slide off your head. It didn’t matter much. You instantly dove into his arms, pressing the side of your face against his chest.

He felt warmth flood his chest as his hand encased the back of your head while he pressed his lips to the top, closing his eyes in bliss enjoying having you in his arms again. He leaned back from the brace as his eyes flashed with amusement and yours with slight embarrassment. He lightly laughed, eyes crinkling. He cradled your face in his hands, a teasing lilt to his voice, “What were you trying to do, hmm?” He could feel your face grow hot under his finger tips.

 “I was just trying to surprise you. I felt bad for not being able to go with you”. He shook his head, hands playfully pinching your cheeks as you whined. “You shouldn’t act that way, I understood from the beginning. It must have been hard for you. Here, come, your lovely boyfriend will make this easier for you”.

“Y/n the keys will not bite prEsS dOWn, no, no keyboards do not have to be oiled, this is a musical instrument not a mechanical vehicle. You are so cute. What am I gonna do with you? No, you can not play the keyboard with your forehead, DO NOT put your foot on the keys. I don’t care if it’s for the vine. 

Dowoon

Dowoon was beating himself up. Looking back at what happened a few hours ago made his chest tight. He couldn’t help but wince at the words both of you had thrown at each other. You had been with each other for so long, and when his lovely mother asked him when he would propose, although with good intentions, it put pressure on him.

 He was still young. He had mentioned it to you in a joking manner, but there was a misunderstanding and you thought he was blowing it off as he didn’t see a future with you. 

Somehow feelings were hurt, and the fight escalated. And Dowoon decided he was a coward because it was when you had started stuttering through your words and avoiding eye contact, he knew. He knew he had pushed you across a line that might not be able to be crossed again. 

He panicked. He was really good at doing that wasn’t he? He left. He took a bus and went to the nearest hotel he could find. There he was sitting on the edge of the too perfectly made bed with his head in his hands.

Had he just ruined his precious relationship because he was scared of what the future could or could not hold? Why did he have to run away? Why couldn’t he just stay? Most importantly, how badly had he hurt you?

 With a sigh he stood up, and he got on the bus back to your apartment. Staring at the door, the fact you were just on the other side and hurting is what pushed him to open it with the key you had given him. Opening the door, he was met with silence and darkness. Have you already gone? He walked through the apartment, hope dwindling with every step. 

Then he heard a soft thump thump thump. His heart seemed to match with it, and as he walked to his studio which held his spare drum set, he thought of what he could say to make it better. Opening the door, he saw you softly hitting the drum with one stick, as if testing the waters and humming along to “When you Love Someone”. Dowoon couldn’t fight the sad smile that broke out on his face, and the absolute warmth that filled his chest. 

Why did he ever even doubt your future with him? There was no person more perfect for him than you. He stood next to you, softly taking your hand in his and guiding your hand to the right beat, although a bit broken. When your sad eyes looked up into his, forgiving in nature but still frustrated beyond belief, he knew he could still fix things. You were you, and Dowoon was Dowoon. You always somehow found your way back to each other.  

“No no, put your hands higher on the stick, no lower, now higher...a bit lower. No, Y/n drum sticks do not belong in my throat. What do you mean I have no room to talk, I thought we were over the fight. I would marry you in this life and the next! Why are you looking at me like that? I am not cute, I am handsome and overflowing with testosterone. Oooh are those gummies?

[procrastinatingsapphictrash]

Can’t get over her

Word count: 5010     

Genre: A little angst with a little fluff

Pairing: Natasha x fem!reader 

Warnings: Little bit of swearing (let me know if I need to add more)

Summary: Reader has always had a bit of a crush on Natasha but it’s unrequited. She lets Tony and Wanda take her to a club and Nat starts acting differently.

A/N: This is not a request, I just felt like writing this story. I’m super nervous about this because I’m not sure if it’s very good but I thought I would post it in case anyone is interested. This is my first x reader fic and first Natasha/Marvel fic so I wasn’t sure how to write it. That being said I hope you enjoy, and if you do, I’m always open to take requests! Btw this is completely unimportant but even though this fic is a medium length, it’s the longest story I’ve actually completed so I feel proud of myself for that!

“Y/n!” A voice rang out loudly disrupting your sleep. 

“Ughhhh,” you groaned, “what do you want?” Instead of an answer the door to your room gets thrown open loudly, allowing all the light to come in. You bury yourself under the blankets, partly to stop your eyes from seeing the light and partly to hide the fact that you were wearing Avengers themed pyjamas. 

“Rise and shine sweetheart!” You hear Tony’s voice mock. Reluctantly you poke your head out of the blankets just enough so you can see and squint at your best friend/mentor just in time to see him rush off, probably to wake up another unfortunate avenger. When you first joined you never expected to like Tony at all, much less consider him your best friend or look up to him. You had heard rumors of him being inappropriate with women and while his jokes most certainly were and you did occasionally catch him staring at your boobs he never did anything creepy to make you uncomfortable and inside he was a good man, way more so than you expected.

All that in mind you decide to get out of bed to see why Tony woke you up because he (probably) wouldn’t wake you up for no reason. Taking a minute to change out of the avenger pyjamas and into some clothes as well as brush your hair you wander downstairs. On the way down you bump into Clint who unlike you has made absolutely no effort to look presentable and looks like he just rolled out of bed. You say a quick hello but he just grunts in return, not even looking at you. Inwardly laughing about how much Clint hates to be awake in the morning you continue downstairs to meet up with the rest of the avengers who are varying degrees of awake. Most seemed to be like you; awake and fairly alert but not happy about it. Clint was probably the most asleep and Tony the most awake considering he was practically bouncing off the walls. Looking around you see everyone except for Thor and Natasha. Thor wasn’t there very often because he wasn’t from earth and Natasha usually avoided group activities at all costs to your displeasure since you had a secret (not very secret) crush on the assassin. 

“So why did you wake us up, at an ungodly hour may I add, and bring us down here?” You ask Tony, curious.

“That information is above your clearance level.” He replies somewhat sarcastically. 

“Does anybody else know what is going on?” you ask. “Or did Tony wake me up for no reason, in which case I’m going back to bed.” They all shift guiltily on their feet except for Clint who seems to be still too tired to pay attention leading you to believe they are all up to something you wouldn’t like. Nobody answers your question so you glare around the room, your eyes landing on Steve. He almost squirms under your gaze and eventually seems to give in.

“I’m sorry Y/N, this wasn’t my idea and thinking back on it we probably shouldn’t-”

“We are giving you a makeover and finding you a date.” Tony cuts Steve off.

“Seriously??!??!??” You half shout. “What makes you think I want to go on some random date you guys set up? If I want to go on a date I can find one myself.”

“Y/N…” Wanda says softly, reminding you to stay calm.

“Don’t Y/n me,” you say, still angrily yet quieter, “I can find my own dates, thank you very much.” Tony gives a small snort of laughter in response to this.

“Sure you can kid. I mean it’s not like you haven’t been on a date in over two years. Or that you’re harboring a crush for our resident scary assassin that prevents you from dating others.” You glare at him but stay silent because all of what he said is true. In your head you excuse the not dating off as being busy because you are a hero yet almost everybody on the team is dating someone and it all seems to be working out fine.

“Look Y/n,” Tony says softly which is a rarity for him, “I know you wish something could happen between you and Romanoff but it hasn’t happened yet and likely never will. You need to get over her and back out there. Besides we weren’t planning on choosing your date for you, we were just planning to go clubbing later with you.”

“Ok,” you agree begrudgingly, “I’ll do it, I just don’t see the need to wake me up at 7 in the morning if we aren’t going out until tonight. Also does everybody need to be here right now?” 

“I second that,” Clint says in a voice still rough from sleep, “just because I helped planning a little bit does not mean I had to wake up early to have this conversation. I’m going back to bed.” 

Wanda rolls her eyes at him before turning to you, “No not everyone has to be here right now, Tony just got a little over excited. As for you, as we said we are giving you a makeover which means we have to go to the hair appointment I set up plus I was thinking we could go shopping since we almost never have time to. Besides Natasha gets back from her solo mission sometime later today, so we wanted to talk with you when she wasn’t around.”

“Ok,” you respond with a little bit of excitement, “when do we leave?”

“Right now! We can have brunch while we’re out!” 

“Yes and then we can go get our nails done and gossip!” Tony says in a fake voice. Both you and Wanda turn to look at him exasperated. “Ok fine, maybe not but I am coming and we are gossiping. Also I need to find a good birthday present for Pepper’s birthday next week.”

“Well that’s good you’re coming because unless you want the same reaction as last year, you’re going to need a lot of help.” Wanda replies. You laugh a little as the three of you leave the tower, Wanda and Tony continuing their mock argument about Tony’s gift giving skills. 

Five hours later and you severely regretted going along with their plan. You were already exhausted and still had so much to do before going clubbing. You had already bought an outfit plus a few others which wouldn’t be so bad except Wanda and Tony made you try on what you believed to be the whole store before they seemed satisfied with your look. You had also gotten your nails done and were currently finishing up a lovely brunch which consisted of waffles, maple syrup and some fruits. That would have been enjoyable if not for the fact that Tony and Wanda alternated between nagging you about not chipping a nail and teasing you about your pathetic love life. It was a well known fact in the tower that while they didn’t hate each other, Tony and Wanda didn’t usually get along well but that was probably for the best since together they were ruthless. They seemed to have decided that the time for brunch was over so sighing you followed them out of the restaurant after Tony paid the bill. That’s the one positive at least, all of it was free for you thanks to Tony. 

Another five hours later and you could honestly say you were looking forward to the night more than you thought you would. You were currently looking in the mirror in your room and although usually you tended to be indifferent towards your body, sometimes even insecure, you had to admit that you looked pretty hot. The dress was in the perfect colour to bring out your eyes according to Wanda and although it was the perfect balance between classy and slutty, revealing a bit of skin and showing off your assets while still leaving it to the imagination. You also were carrying a black purse which matched your nails and shoes. Your makeup was perfectly done, naturally showing you beauty but adding a little extra glimmer. The thing you were most proud of however and the most noticeable change you had made was your hair. Before you had hair that when completely straight could reach your waist but now it was barely long enough to tuck behind your ears. When you first got to the hair salon you were planning on just trimming it and straightening in it but when you got in the chair something came over you and you just decided to chop it all off. 

BANG! The door to your room barges open and Wanda comes flying in. 

“Damn girl! You look hot as fuck!” You blush profusely at her words managing to stammer out a thank you. You have never been good at taking compliments because you always get a little shy and awkward. 

Tony pokes his head around the doorframe and gives a whistle. “You are smoking hot Y/n, I mean if I didn’t have Pepper I would be all over you. You ready to go?” Not waiting for an answer he turns and starts towards the elevator. You follow but not before exchanging an eye roll with Wanda about Tony’s words. The elevator ride is short and smooth thanks to Tony’s engineering so you don’t have enough time to succumb to the urge of placing your hands on the bars and pushing while lifting your feet. The elevator beeps, Jarvis informing  you that you’ve reached the ground level and the doors open. You step out ready to get on with your night but the sight of Natasha just back from a mission freezes you in your tracks. 

“Hi,” you say lamely, “I thought you were supposed to get back earlier today?”

“We had some intel that wasn’t fully correct but luckily it didn’t take too long to fix. You look different, where are you heading off to?”

You glance at Tony and Wanda for help because for some reason you feel awkward telling her but they don’t seem to know what you want so you answer anyways. “We’re going clubbing, I’m kinda nervous since I haven’t been in awhile but Wanda helped me get ready-”

“Hey I helped too!”

You ignore Tony’s protest and continue to speak. “-and I think it should be fun. Also there will for sure be hot girls there which is always a plus.”  

“Seems like it should be fun,” she responds in her monotone ‘I don’t care’ voice that you hate, “Good luck with the girls though, because your hair looked better long, I don’t like it like this.” You don’t usually get offended easily but you feel tears spring to your eyes at her comment. The only good part is that she doesn’t notice because she’s already walking away, swaying her hips, either not knowing or caring that she hurt you.

Tony and Wanda rush over to you. “Oh sweetie,” Wanda comforts while wrapping an arm around you, “don’t listen to her, that’s not true at all!”

“Then why would she say it?” You ask, careful to keep your voice from cracking because you hated showing when you were upset.

“I don’t know and honestly I don’t give a fuck.” Tony replies. “Just don’t think about it too much, the whole point of this night is to get over her anyways.” You give him a small smile at that. Tony is good with words which translates into being good at comforting people. You know he’s right so although the comment is still upsetting you do your best to push it out of your mind. Locking arms with both Tony and Wanda you pull them towards the door and into the waiting limo. You couldn’t help but smile at the way Tony ruffled your hair as you stepped in or how Wanda kept running her fingers over her arm in an attempt to be reassuring. You had the best friends. 

The ride over seemed way shorter than it was supposed to be and before you knew it the limo was stopped to let the three of you out. You take a deep breath and wipe your sweaty palms on your dress before smiling and stepping out after Tony and Wanda. Nobody seems to have noticed the three of you yet which was a good thing. Being Avengers Tony and Wanda were pretty much celebrities and often got swarmed by groups of fans. Technically you were an avenger as well but like Natasha and Clint it was only because you were a Shield so while you did get recognized it wasn’t as often and only tended to happen if you were with other avengers. You make your way inside, splitting from Tony and Wanda at the door. The plan was for them to go to the bar and look over you from there while you went straight to the dance floor because you preferred to be anonymous tonight and they would ruin that and also you didn’t feel like getting drunk. That was the plan at least but you suspected that they would get too drunk to continue watching over you because it had been stressful lately with a lot of paperwork and they needed to unwind. Wanda had practically confirmed that fact when she gave you permission to leave without them. 

You step over to the dance floor glancing around to see if there looked to be any single women already there. The reason you had chosen this club was because although it wasn’t lgbtq+ exclusive, it was open to everybody and therefore frequented by many members of the community. 

Just as you were glancing around you felt a tap on your shoulder. “Wanna dance?” You spin around to find the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen, apart from Natasha. It bothers you that you’re using Natasha as your standard and comparing other girls to her but you brush that off. 

“I would love to!” At your response she takes your hand, pulling you into the crowd and starts to dance. You dance as well and slowly you lose track of time as you loosen up and your dancing with the girl becomes less and less innocent. You can feel yourself caring less about what Natasha thought although as great as this girl seemed to be you knew you weren’t ready for a relationship so you hoped she wasn’t looking for one. After what could be a couple of hours because you’ve completely lost track of time, you and the girl whose name you still don’t know head over to a corner of the room and take a seat on two of the stools that were provided. 

“Hi, I feel like I should know your name by now, I’m Y/n.” You introduce yourself. 

“Wait I thought you looked familiar!” She exclaims. “You’re the Y/n that’s a part of the avengers right?” 

You awkwardly give a nod and gesture towards the bar where you can see Tony and Wanda who have obviously had at least a few drinks each. “Tony and Wanda came with me. They are just over there but I didn’t particularly want the spotlight tonight so I split from them at the door.” 

“I understand, I must admit I have no desire to be famous. I’m Jamie by the way” She says with a cute little giggle before her mood seems to be more solemn. “I can’t believe I’m saying this to a literal avenger and if my friends find out they are going to kill me but I’m sorry if you’re looking for a relationship but I just got out of a serious relationship and am not ready for another one quite yet.” 

You let out a relieved sigh. “I’m not looking for a relationship either, because I’m trying to get over my feelings for a friend.” 

“Phew!” She replies. “But tell me more about this ‘friend’ of yours.” You take a minute to think before deciding that Jamie could be trusted. You begin to spill all about your feelings for Natasha and how she didn’t seem interested and what she said to you on your way here. Jamie listens sympathetically the entire time before telling you all about how she thought her ex was the one but it turns out she was emotionally abusive. Even though you just met you talk like old friends, offering advice on serious topics but also chatting about random things. You have 3 more drinks each and after every drink your barriers crumble more and more. Eventually you exchange numbers so you can meet up again although you both agreed it would be a platonic meetup. Just as you were giggling about a joke you couldn’t even remember, you saw Jamie tense up and a second later you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turn your head in anger expecting it to be some creepy guy trying to hit on you but it turns to confusion when you see Natasha. 

“Can we talk?” She asks, giving Jamie a dirty look. “At the tower. Without her.” 

“Why?” You ask. “I’m having fun here Nat.” You specifically say her name as you speak so Jamie knows who you’re talking to. 

“Just come home.” She says not answering your question, instead tugging at your wrist lightly. You sigh not knowing what to do so you glance at Jamie for help. 

She shrugs and then says, “I have a ride home planned if you want to leave, but I wouldn’t mind staying longer if that’s what you want.”

You make a quick decision in your head before responding, “Ok, we’ll go back to the tower but there better be a good reason.” You then turn to Jamie, “Text me when you get home so I know you’re safe, and then we can figure out when to hang out.”

“Of course,” she agrees leaning forwards to hug you while whispering in your ear, “good luck but remember not to let her treat you badly just because you’re in love with her.” You pull back from the hug and smile at her as Natasha’s hand moves down to your own as she starts walking, pulling you along with her. You can barely think straight, you have no idea what is going on with Natasha or why she’s acting so weirdly. You glance over to Tony and Wanda to see if they’ve noticed what’s going on but just as you suspected they were drunk out of their minds. If they were normal friends you would have worried about them but you knew Tony’s drivers would get them home safe because although Tony was more responsible with Pepper around this was not the first time they’ve had to haul his drunk ass back to the tower. 

Natasha continues to pull you out the door and over to her parked motorcycle where she hands you a helmet and one of her leather jackets. Still not speaking she hops on and motions for you to get on behind her. You swing your leg over the side somewhat awkwardly and scoot forwards so you can grab onto her waist. Once she’s sure you’re secured properly she hits the gas, the motorcycle roaring as it starts. You’ve never been on her motorcycle before so at first you are a bit nervous but after a couple of minutes you start to feel more comfortable. At this point your only nerves come from holding Natasha and wondering what she wants to talk to you about and not the motorcycle ride. Compared to the ride over to the club, this ride feels like it’s taking forever as you start to go over all the important reasons Nat would want to talk to you. You still didn’t know how to feel about everything because she insulted you earlier and now is making you feel important. To protect your feelings you tell yourself that there is probably a mission or a meeting that came up last minute and this isn’t just Natasha wanting to talk. It’s improbable because if that was the case she would have outright said so but you can’t think of any more plausible reasons off the top of your head. Luckily before you can analyze her strange behavior anymore you reach the tower and after parking underground you follow Natasha upstairs into the main living area which is obviously deserted as it is now between 3 and 4 am. 

“So why did you want to talk?” You ask, breaking the silence as you take a seat on the couch. 

“Why did you go to a club?” She asks, also sitting down on the other end of the couch, avoiding your question. 

A surge of anger floods through you and while you don’t shout, you raise your voice a little. “Answer the fucking question Nat. Or did you bring me all the way back just to ask that?” 

She looks somewhat surprised that you raised your voice but she keeps hers even. “I just wanted to know. It looked like you were having fun with whoever that girl is.” 

“Yeah I was.” You respond, still confused. “But how do you know that?” 

Natasha avoids eye contact looking everywhere but you. “I was watching you.” 

“YOU WERE WHAT?” You shout before lowering your voice to avoid waking up the whole tower. “Why the fuck were you spying on me?”  

“I- I wasn’t.” She replies seemingly caught off guard by your tone of voice. “I wanted to make sure you were safe.” 

“Tony and Wanda were with me.” You respond confused. There’s something she’s not telling you that’s making her act weird. She knew you could handle yourself so she obviously was not telling the truth, or at least omitting details. She hasn’t responded to your last statement, instead choosing to look at you in the weird way she does that makes you feel like you’re being interrogated. You decide that if she isn’t going to talk, you won’t either so you pull your phone out of your jacket to check it. You see a text from Jamie saying she got home ok with a little smiley face at the end that causes you to smile. You type back a quick reply, just saying you’re glad she’s safe and that you were with Natasha right now and were probably going to bed soon so you’d text her tomorrow. She wished you luck and goodnight with another little smiley face that made you smile again. Putting your phone away you look back up at Natasha only to find out she’s glaring at you. 

Unsure of what could have changed her attitude towards you, you ask, “What?”

“Who were you talking to?” She asks ignoring your question for the second time tonight. 

You sigh, “I don’t see how it’s any of your business but if you really must know I was just saying goodnight to the girl from the club, Jamie.”

“So that’s her name.” She says wrinkling her nose. Now you’re really confused as to what Natasha is thinking. You couldn’t tell on normal days but usually she acted rationally and never was like this. 

“Why do you say it like that?” You ask. 

“I don’t like her.”

“Why don’t you like her?” 

“I just don’t.” She answers, offering no explanation. Although you do want to find out why Natasha doesn’t like her you’re too tired to spend the time asking questions so you stand up to go to bed. 

“Where are you going?” She demands. 

You sigh for what feels like the thousandth time of the night. “I’m going to bed. You wanted to talk to me but won’t actually talk, and when I ask you questions, instead of responding you insult my new friend.”

“Friend?” She questions.

“Jamie.” You say confused because you thought the answer was obvious. 

“Oh.” She responds, “I’m sorry, please stay.” You think about it for a second, deciding to stay so you go to sit down again, but before you do Natasha scoots over to your end of the couch pulling you down into her side. Your entire body freezes up because you’re so unsure of what to do. Natasha never initiated physical contact of any kind but now she was practically hugging you. Seeming to realize how uncomfortable you were, she quickly moves away.

“Sorry,” she mutters, “That was stupid.”

“No, no, it’s fine, you can come back.” You respond quickly. As much as you were uncomfortable, it felt really nice to have her by your side. She somewhat shyly shifts back over to you but this time instead of wrapping her arm around your shoulders she nuzzles into your side, maneuvering your arms so they wrap around her. You have no idea what’s going on right now but you can’t help but smile as you look down at her. She looks cute and relaxed, with her hair covering parts of her face. Thinking about her hair reminds you of her opinion of your new haircut. You bite your lip nervously as you debate asking her about that or not. You definitely don’t want to ruin the cuddly mood that she’s in now but the comment still bothers you, not to mention you never actually found out why she took you home from the club.

“Um Natasha?” You ask in a timid voice. “Is my haircut really that bad?” 

“Of course not, I think it suits you.” She responds smoothly. “I lied to you earlier.”

You smile at that. “Thank you but why?”

She takes a deep shaky breath before speaking. “Promise this won’t change anything between us first, that we will stay friends.” 

“Ok,” You respond, earnest but confused, “I promise.”

“I didn’t like the idea of you going clubbing and coming home with some one night stand or even worse a girlfriend because I have feelings for you. So I was childish and took out my frustrations on you by pretending I didn’t like you. I’m sorry.” She’s looking up at you now, the most nervous you’ve ever seen her. Your mind is exploding with this new information and your heart feels so happy you can’t even believe what is going on. 

“Is that why you were watching me with Jamie at the club and then told me you had to talk to me?”

“Yeah”

After a few more seconds of shocked silence that feels like hours to Natasha you finally speak. “I know I promised that this wouldn’t change anything between us but I don’t think it can be the same.” She starts to pull away from your side but before she can you lean over and press your lips against hers. At first you are hesitant but once she starts kissing back you gain confidence, the kiss getting more heated. After a minute or two you both pull away to catch your breath, smiling at each other. 

Natasha lightly swats you on the arm. “You’re evil.” You giggle a little in response. “I was so worried for a second there, I thought you would be weirded out by that.” She continues also giggling slightly. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t know that I had feelings for you,” you confess to her, “it was actually Tony and Wanda’s idea for me to go out because we all thought you didn’t like me so they thought it was a good idea to get over you.”

“Well that plan failed,” she says smirking, “I guess you can’t get over me.” 

You look at her and yawn. “No I guess I can’t.” 

At your yawn she glances at the clock. “We better get you to bed, it’s almost the time Steve wakes up for training.” You would like to spend more time with Natasha but you’re too tired to argue so you just nod and follow her as she pulls you up and leads you to your room, holding your hand the whole way. Inside your room she sits on your bed while you change, politely looking away. Once you’re in pyjamas you hold a pair out to her and she looks at you confused. 

“Do you want to stay the night?” You ask her. She eagerly nods, accepting the pyjamas as you open your covers and crawl into bed. As soon as she’s done she turns off the lights and hops in behind you, spooning you. You sigh as you feel her plant a kiss on the back of your head. You can barely keep your eyes open and although you still haven’t talked about exactly what your new relationship with Natasha was yet, you were excited for what was to come. Your last thought before you drifted off to sleep was complete bliss as Natasha kept planting soft kisses on the back of your neck, head and shoulders. 

The next morning you hear a loud pounding at your door. You groan and slowly gain consciousness, smiling as you remember last night and the redhead still cuddling you. Just like yesterday Tony doesn’t bother to wait for you to answer and instead barges straight in. His eyes widen when he sees the two of you spooning and he starts to splutter. You laugh at him with Natasha until he shouts for the other avengers to come. Multiple pairs of footsteps make your way to your bedroom and you see the shocked faces of a few of the other avengers, including Wanda, Steve and Clint. 

“What,” Natasha says speaking up, “can’t a girl cuddle with her girlfriend in peace?” Steve immediately apologizes, ushering everyone out of the room and closing the door. 

You raise your eyebrow. “Girlfriends?”

“I assumed so, if you want.” She responds. 

“I like the sound of that...girlfriend.” You both smile at each other. You definitely did not complete your goal of getting over Natasha and instead fell further in love but you were totally ok with that.

[mystical-marauder]

Painting stars

Sirius enters an art shop, hoping to finally buy the supplies he'd been saving up for for months, but walking through that door brings him much more than expected

This is my first oneshot and I hope you like it and I'll post more writing like this hopefully and my writing can also be found on ao3 my username is @loveglowslikethemoon hope you enjoy :)

Today had been pretty quiet with only a couple customers and the shop was closing in 10 minutes, I was ready to go home...

Ding!

I look up from my book, ‘What kind of customer turns up this late?’ I think. I look around to the door, standing there is a tall, handsome young man, his grey eyes excitedly glancing over the shop, his black hair tied up into a bun. His fair skin is disrupted only by a small beauty mark, under his eye. The confident smile that suddenly splits his face as he turns to me, brings out two dimples that break his otherwise smooth cheeks.

"Afternoon! I'm looking for art supplies, I mean I am in an art shop" he says, chuckling. "I actually need some advice, you have a very wide selection and I'm not quite sure what to pick." he gestures vaguely at the shelves full of pencils and brushes, paint and charcoal, canvases and sketchbooks... "You see I love painting but I have no idea which brushes to use, it's embarrassing really."

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about, actually it's quite common, that’s what I’m here for” I reply with a smile “So you said you paint, right? What do you need, brushes, paint, canvases…?”

“I… um… I actually need everything… You see my parents, well, they kicked me out… and I left everything there… but I've finally saved up enough money to buy new supplies so here I am” he explains chuckling nervously. I look around nervously, unsure what to answer to that but I try to remain as steady and professional as possible.

“That's… terrible, I’m so sorry.” I say, smiling nervously, trying to seem comforting.

“It’s alright, it’s a good riddance I guess.” he replies cheerily “so about those supplies, what do you recommend?”

“Follow me, I’ll show you my recommendations. You’ll have to tell me a bit more about your style of painting so I can give you my best advice.” I say, leading him over to the shelves.

I quickly give him an overview of the different supplies before giving him a more detailed review of each product and advice. We slowly go through the shop and I don’t even notice the minutes fly by. As I walk to another shelf, I catch a glimpse of the clock. I should’ve closed the shop half an hour ago but I decide to leave it. I was having fun. What was the harm of staying open a little while longer? As the minutes pass, our chatter becomes less professional and more friendly. We talked and laughed together and soon enough, we’d picked out all his new art supplies.

“Well there’s everything you need!” I say, walking back to the counter. I start counting the price while chatting to him. “That’s £81.99, the easel is on the house for being such an amiable customer. Do come back if you ever need anything else, it was a pleasure to serve you.” I smile sadly, it had been more than a pleasure and I wish we didn’t have to say goodbye now.

“Thank you” he answers, giving me another of his confident smiles “I- I was wondering if umm… this might sound a bit weird but-” his piercing grey eyes quickly shift away, his normally confident appearance fading to show a childlike nervousness. “Before I left home, well, before I was forced out, I was studying anatomy, and well… I think you'd make the perfect model… Would it be alright if I painted you? If you don't mind, of course. Please don't feel forced to accept anything, but I'd love it if you do. And we could get a chance to get to know each other a little better, maybe somewhere where you don't work.” he clears his voice, as though happy to get this over with, and shifts his grey eyes back to me, his confidence returning. A new childish smile splits his face, as though it had never left it.

My eyes widen as I register what he just asked, and I quickly look away, embarrassed. ‘Perfect?’ as the word races through my mind again and again, I feel my face heat a little. Perfect? Me? No one had ever even called me pretty, let alone perfect, but now this man, who looks like a model himself, wants me to model for him and used that word to describe me. I return the smile, although mine is more nervous than childlike. He tilts his head slightly as though reading my emotions but seconds later, he lets out a small laugh which I quickly copy, trying to diffuse the awkwardness that flourished in me throughout this interaction.

“Are you sure you want me? I mean-” I cut off as I watch him nod confidently “alright I'd love to then!” I answer him, flattered, yet I can't stop the slight shake of my hands. What if I mess up? What if he ends up hating me?

“See you then” he says happily, turning away with a wink. I watch him as he walks out, finding myself to be grinning like a child, like him. I only have one thought left, ‘I don't have to say goodbye.’ I stay standing there for a few minutes with this thought before I snap back to reality. My eyes snap to the clock.

“Fuck” I whisper as I work out the time. If my boss finds out I closed the shop two hours late, I'm done for. ‘Oh well, it was worth it’ I think ‘and anyways he might not even find out.’ I start packing my bag when I suddenly realise he didn't give me a name let alone an address, how was I ever going to find him?! My eyes trail back to the door but of course he is long gone by now… I look around, panicked, as though expecting something to magically give me his address and that's when I notice the folded piece of paper on the counter. I slowly open it, my fingers trembling at the thought that it may not be what I think. I flatten out the paper and quickly read the snippet of writing. I smile inwardly, holding the small, unfolded piece of paper, relief slowly flooding through me as I trace the sentence again and again with my eyes, struggling to believe the evening's events.

19:30 tomorrow room 29 Mirror Hotel - Sirius Black

“Sirius Black” I whisper softly, smiling. “It's nice to meet you, Sirius Black”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I try to steady my hand as doubt rises in me again, one thought racing continuously through my mind ‘What if I mess up?’ I reach out and knock on the door hesitantly. I wait for a few seconds, yet it feels like an eternity, before the door is swung open.

“Found my note I see!” he exclaims, standing in the doorway with a huge grin lighting up his face. I smile back, trying to look as confident as he did.

“Here I brought you this” I reply, showing him my bag. I take out a small black book and present it to him, “it’s my favourite book, actually I was reading it when you came into the shop, I thought that maybe...” I trail off, embarrassed. I rub the back of my neck, feeling the warmth radiating from my palm. “I just thought maybe you'd find it interesting, I've read it so many times I practically know it off my heart” I laugh quietly, quickly glancing up at him “sorry I'm rambling”

Sirius looks at me, curiosity in his eyes. A small laugh escapes his lips before he turns to me and takes the book. He flips it, seemingly interested before looking back at me and taking a step back, to free the entrance. “Well why don't you come in?” he asks, before marking a pause, “I'm sorry I don't think I caught your name.”

“I'm Remus.” I respond, looking back up at him.

“Remus, that's a nice name.” he comments, his grin never leaving his face “the book seems interesting! I'll be sure to give it a try” I listen to him talk while I walk into his room, which is surprisingly organised. There isn't much, a table with an old laptop on it, two chairs, a bed, which takes up most of the space, a set of drawers, a small window and, in the corner, the art supplies he'd bought the day before. “You can sit here” he tells me, pushing one of the chairs towards me, I take it and sit down, putting my bag down next to it, unsure what to do next, I watch him walk over to the corner and pick up his art supplies.

“What do I need to do?” I ask, my hands still trembling slightly in my lap.

“Nothing, don't worry” he replies “just sit there and relax, there's nothing to be scared of” he addresses a friendly smile at me, pulling up the other chair to face me and setting up his easel in front of it. He takes out a brush and some paint, mixing them on his palette, and starts moving his hand up and down the canvas in big yet careful gestures. As the minutes pass, I start to feel more relaxed, watching his movements getting smaller and slower. “So, tell me a bit about yourself” he says, his eyes not moving from the canvas.

“Hmm oh well my life isn't very interesting. I grew up here with my parents, they're both gone now. I work in an art shop, as you know, I really like reading and I don't know what else to tell you…” I answer, thinking that my life must be too boring for him.

“That sounds interesting to me, you must know the surroundings pretty well then! Maybe you could show me around a little, I've been here for a few months but I still manage to get lost sometimes.” he tells me, chuckling.

“I'd love to, but only if you show me how to paint” I reply, nodding happily. As the minutes turn into hours and his painting progresses, we keep talking, about everything and nothing. It felt easy to talk to him, no not easy, right. Soon enough, I knew him like he'd been my friend for years. While we talk, his eyes tend to stay on the painting but sometimes they glide over to me, snapping back to the painting seconds later. In what felt like a short period of time, yet was a few hours, the painting was finished.

“Are you ready? If I'm honest, I'm a little nervous but if it's bad, blame it on the fact I couldn't paint for the past few months.” he admitted with a nervous chuckle, grabbing the canvas and hesitantly turning it towards me.

‘wow’

That's it. That's the only thought that went through my head as my eyes met themselves on the canvas. It's so beautiful and…

“Well? What do you think?” he urges nervously. I suddenly notice his hands trembling slightly and his eyes watching me intensely. He always seems so confident, yet I can see the fear in his eyes now.

“It's so… It's stunning… I'm speechless” I reply, looking him in the eyes quickly before turning back to the painting. The painting looked so realistic, my light curly brown hair and pale green eyes standing out against my pale skin, there is only one alteration. Instead of the freckles that normally sprinkle my face, are little stars. They're beautiful, shining like the stars I can now see from the window.

“Your freckles, they're beautiful, they look like the stars in the night sky. I thought I should paint them as such… They're like little beacons of hope and friendship, when I walked into that shop, I never thought I'd make a new friend, and well, thank you for giving me hope.” Sirius looks at me, his eyes sparkling with the same hope he was talking off. As I look at him, straight into his eyes, I feel a smile reach my lips, knowing my eyes have the same sparkle in them. And as our eyes dig deeper into one another, as we share a smile of happiness of who we found, the minutes slow, as though this moment was frozen in time, which I wish could be the case. Suddenly, we both break eye contact, as though embarrassed by the connection we'd both felt in that second. We both look back up to the painting, our eyes meeting again for a second, causing my face to heat a little. I slowly lift myself out of my seat, taking a step towards the painting to get a closer view of the talent etched on the canvas in front of me.

“It's- it's really stunning” I mutter, still speechless, taking yet another step forward. As I slowly edge forward, I notice something, something that had escaped me at first glance, as it usually escapes others' attention. A thin scar, tracing along the bridge of my freckled nose. Freckles which usually hide it, making it hardly noticeable, especially at first glance. A scar that had been given to me when I was only five, by an overexcited grey dog at the park. It's claw had scratched against the skin of my nose, after it had ambushed me. It had left me with a gash, one that never properly healed and could now be observed under the shape of a scar. This scar. The one he had noticed, when no one else had.

“You got my scar” I whisper in amazement. I slowly reach out to touch it, feeling like all that matters now, is this single detail. A small detail yet seeing it there had given me hope. At the last second, I pull my arm back, like an instinct, and, remembering the paint is still wet, I drop my hand to my side.

“Of course I got it, how could I miss it?” as his voice reaches my ears, I glance to my left to find him standing next to me, admiring the same spot as I was. Him. The man who, right now, felt like a dream come true. We both turn to face one another at the same second, almost as though we're in tune with one another. I find myself getting lost in his stormy grey eyes again, knowing that he was looking straight back into my emerald green ones. For a moment, there's no movement, we both stand there in silence, our eyes sparkling at each other, knowing that this is right. A shadow suddenly masks one of his eyes and I understand that a lock of his hair escaped his small bun. I watch it sway slightly before I instinctively take a step forward, closing what little distance is left between us, and reach out. I mark a pause, waiting to see if he'll reject the movement, but nothing happens. Carefully, I grab the small lock of hair and delicately brush it behind his ear.

As I hesitantly move my hand away, Sirius lets out a low throaty laugh, and I suddenly feel compelled to do something I'd never dreamed of. Instead of pulling my hand back, I instinctively slide it down to the back of his neck, cradling it carefully in my hand, and lean forward, closing the distance between us centimetre after centimetre until we collide. It was a short kiss but our movements were coordinated perfectly.

We pull away, almost reluctantly, and I watch his face quickly turn a deep crimson, knowing mine isn’t much better. I watch his eyes, like two storms lost in the middle of all this redness.

“That was… something” my eyes move down, as I utter these two words, as though expecting them to close the distance again. Our faces were still within centimetres of one another, making me struggle not to kiss them again.

“Something utterly spectacular” Sirius laughs breathlessly, intensifying my impulse to lean in again.

The room falls silent again, as I continue to watch the slight quiver on his lips. The only disturbance in the otherwise perfect silence is the sound of light rain splashing against the window and pavement along with our shallow breathing.

For a long while, we stand there, gazing quietly into each other's eyes, not uttering a single word, yet I feel complete, everything I need is right here, in front of me. This man, who has the most luscious hair, elegance and grace radiating from his unpolished appearance, a mischievous yet friendly glint in his eye, who is staring up at me with those mercury eyes.

And in that second, I feel certain that this is where I belong. That being with Sirius is right.

[maddiem4-writes]

Reposado - Chapter 6

They say “the funny thing about the good times is, you don’t know you’re having them until they’re over.” Maybe my opinion will change on this someday, but I think there’s a very particular flavor of tragedy that can happen in life, where you know they’re the good times while you’re in them, but… you still gotta live them, in all the mundane bits and bad moments. And you’re painfully aware, in the moment, that you won’t be able to really appreciate the moment until you stop feeling it. The good times never really exist, it’s a supercut.

And you might just think, “well. At least I know when they’ll be over. And that’s a smidgen of control in your life.” Yeah, fuck you. You don’t know shit. March 7, 2010 was the last good day of my life, and I didn’t know shit. Not even when I saw the handprint.

Sending a kid to the nurse for laughing sounds excessive, and it kinda is, but it’s a softer reaction than detention and it keeps the class from getting disrupted, so like… I get it. And I’d sure as fuck rather talk to the school nurse for a couple minutes, maybe get a green apple lollipop, and stabilize myself a little. Better than staying after school and miss biking home with my friends. Although if the school switched to one of those cheap-ass brands where the green candy is actually Pine-Sol flavored, I’ll just pass on that. Who likes those? Just awful.

The Nurse’s office was, funny enough, an adjacent mirror of the principal’s office. I think it was originally mean for a VP or something, and they panicked at the last minute when they realized they needed to put a nurse somewhere, so she got to be the right hand of god. Neat. Not a big enough perk to inspire me to go into a medical career, but you know. It’s pretty dope for what it is.

The door was closed and there were some shadows moving around inside, so I sat down on a chair outside. There was a single row of chairs between the two doors, and I sat as far as possible on the nurse’s office side. I didn’t want anyone to think I was there to see the principal, like a third grader who’s been pulling a classmate’s hair. Yeah, being a menace to authority can cement your rep as a badass, but when it’s a high school principal? That’s a low fucking bar. If anything, it just makes you look like a dumbshit high schooler who couldn’t find better trouble. Maybe if it was smoking in the bathrooms or something, that could work.

Something I’d never noticed before was the flickering light in the nurse’s office. That had to be new. I didn’t walk this way all the time, but like, pretty often. I would have noticed before.  Yeah. Well. It got brighter. Flickered harder. That’s when the noises started, and I felt my hair stand up. The first thing I really heard were panicked human voices, muffled by the door, and then a rising, swooping hum that cycled faster and faster.

I must have kind of freaked out, because I sat there like a weirdo for a few seconds, and then just bolted upright. I started banging on the door, yelling “hey are you alright in there?” Which… I didn’t like what I heard. The noise kept getting louder, and the light started to get more colorful, and associate with specific tones of hum that began to harmonize. But worse were the voices.

Cassie screaming, “oh my god don’t come in don’t come in don’t come in”, and…

Miss V screaming “help, somebody help”.

I turned the doorknob. The door opened out, toward me. The last thing I heard was Cassie. The last thing I saw was Cassie. And she was so afraid. Blood pouring out of her nose and mouth and eyes and ears and even from under her fingernails. I’ve never seen a black girl that pale. I think she was only being held conscious by adrenaline. These streamers of colorful light were zipping around her, and I realized, in the second I got to see it, that she was hovering a few inches off the ground. The streamers started to settle into consistent colors first, then pick orbits, and I remember thinking even then: “oh my god, it’s clothes.”

I don’t know what Miss V looked like in those last couple seconds. I was preoccupied. And I’ve never been able to decide if I regret that. I know I would have regretted looking away too. I looked Cassie straight in the blood-crying eyes and saw that final sorrow, and heard her say, “I’m not ready.”

Then the suit sucked in tight around her and fused in a blinding flash. The motion was so fast and brutal that it yanked the doorknob out of my hand and slammed the door hard. There was an ear piercing scream, and then a loud pop, and both windows of the office got instantly coated with the darkest, nastiest red I’d ever seen.

I only heard one body hit the floor inside.

[incorrectbandofbrothersquotes]

Dear Heart - CH 12

Dick Winters x Melanie Davis

Summary: Melanie Davis is a nurse from North Carolina who has lived a sheltered life since her father died. Her father’s best friend, Colonel Sink, invites her to experience more as a regimental nurse for the 506th PIR of the 101st Airborne. She embarks on the adventure of a lifetime.

Tag list: @thoughpoppiesblow​​​​​​ @primusk​​ @itswormtrain​​​ @hesbuckcompton-baby​ If you’d like to be added, let me know!

Word Count: 5k (another doozy but omg a lot has to happen okay? they have to talk, Dick has to be a simp, it’s important to the plot)

A/N: Thank you again to @mercurygray​​​​ for being a wonderful beta reader, as always <3

Warning(s): Descriptions of an assault

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6  Chapter 7  Chapter 8  Chapter 9  Chapter 10  Chapter 11

Chapter 12 here we go!!

A warm spring began in Germany, welcoming the American invaders with its beautiful scenery and pleasant weather. Melanie wondered how people who lived in such a lovely place could have begun a war that was so terrible. The regiment came to a long stop in a town called Sturzelberg, where there was a hospital, and Melanie finally felt like a regular nurse again. She even got to change out of her OD’s and into her nursing uniform dress. It was wrinkled from the journey in her bag, rolled up at the bottom until she could wear it again. It was somewhat of a homecoming, though it seemed a different girl stepped into it. Not even a girl at all, really. A grown woman. A changed woman. 

Her and Juliet’s billet had a mirror, so she took the opportunity to really look at herself for the first time in weeks. Though she was clean, she looked tired. She didn’t have much color to her face, and she had lost more weight. She frowned at her reflection, hearing her mother loud and clear in her mind. To her surprise, she voiced what she heard. 

“Thin and pale,” she murmured. “That won’t do.”

Juliet looked up from her notebook. “I beg your pardon?” 

Melanie did not reply. She was too busy pinching her cheeks along the bone, giving them a semblance of rosiness. It was an old trick, but a useful one. So was chewing one’s lips to make them red if one didn’t have any rouge, which was her next task.

“Mel, what the bloody hell are you doing?” Juliet demanded, getting to her feet. 

“Making myself somewhat presentable,” Melanie answered. “Now that we’re back in relative comfort, I’ve got no excuse for walking around looking like a rag doll.” 

Juliet scoffed in disbelief. Then she stood in front of Melanie, took her by the shoulders, and looked into her eyes, searching. 

“What are you doing?” Melanie asked. 

“I’m looking for Melanie Davis, I hope she’s still in there,” Juliet returned. 

It occurred to Melanie that Juliet had only known the exhausted, wounded Melanie from weeks at war and no sleep. Already a little jaded from the amount of wounded who passed through. Of course she didn’t recognize the Melanie from before - who lived with constant reminders of femininity and vanity she’d had ingrained in her since childhood. 

She rolled her eyes and dislodged herself from Juliet’s grip. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course it’s me.” 

“You’ve been through hell on Earth,” Juliet pointed out. “Who cares what you look like?”

Melanie hadn’t thought of it that way. And she had certainly not had many experiences of criticism being met with compassion. She didn’t always feel she deserved compassion - she was happy to give it to others but for herself? Perfection only. It was hitting her now what an impossible standard she was holding herself to. 

“Oh, I must sound awfully vain,” Melanie sighed. “I don’t mean to, but I can’t help it if I prefer feeling feminine. I can’t believe how much I took for granted just having lipstick or nail polish.” 

“Obviously, you can enjoy those things, but I cannot stand by and let you say that you ‘won’t do,’” Juliet replied. “You’re a beautiful woman, with or without lipstick.” 

Melanie looked at the floor and fixed her clothes. “That’s very kind of you, thank you.”

She was unused to getting such compliments. Her mother had always fixated on Melanie’s looks, though she had never been insulting. It was always reassurance that she was pretty enough to “catch a husband.” But, as she had pointed out to herself, there was more to the world than all that. The war was still on. She had a job to do. 

“Alright, I’m off to work,” she said. “It feels mighty fine to be saying that again.” 

She forced herself to smile, putting all thoughts of her appearance behind her. She just needed to get back to a hospital and work with patients so she could start feeling like herself again. Juliet wished her luck, and then Melanie was off. 

***

As they made their way deeper into Germany, Dick’s inner conflict deepened, too. Melanie’s condition, her moods and general demeanor, seemed to improve, while Lew seemed to get steadily worse. The day of the jump (which he was still a bit bitter to have missed, despite its outcome), when Dick had to tell his best friend about his demotion, he was disturbed by Nix’s non-reaction, followed by flippant remarks to disguise a frustration he clearly would not voice. Dick sought out the only person he felt he could talk to about his concerns - Melanie. 

He went first to her billet. The day was drawing to a close, so he assumed she would be back by now from the hospital. Juliet opened the door and looked surprised to see him.

“Oh! Hello, Major,” she said. 

“Is Melanie here?” he asked, getting right to the point. 

“No, she hasn’t come back from the hospital yet,” she told him. “Is everything alright? Did you have something...important to tell her?” 

She raised a knowing eyebrow at him and he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. At this point, he wasn’t sure who was more invested in his relationship with Melanie - Nix or Juliet. He wondered what might have happened if she had been around to help orchestrate the Paris trip. For now, he let it slide.  

“I just want to talk to her,” he said. “Thanks, though.” 

“Worth a shot,” she said under her breath. “Well, let me know if we need to send out a search party.” 

“Will do,” he said, amused. “See you later.”

She nodded in return and closed the door. Dick headed to the hospital. He looked forward to seeing Melanie - he always did. He just wished his friends would see that, and realize it was enough for now. There was enough understanding between them that they were pretty well aware of what they felt for each other. At least, Dick was sure he understood. But there was still a war, and that wasn’t really the place for romance. 

By the time he arrived at the hospital, he had pushed his frustrations with his friends to the back of his mind. In the first ward, he found Melanie, in a chair beside a patient’s bed, a deck of cards between them on a tray, and laughter on her face. The patient pulled a card from his hand and laid it down, which made Melanie’s jaw drop. 

“Another red three?” she gasped. “I think it’s very clear how this game is going to end.” 

“You’ve still got a chance, Miss Melanie,” he replied through a thick Southern accent. “One good hand and you could turn this whole thing around.” 

“Well, lucky for you, my hand isn’t anything to write home about,” she returned, frowning at it. “Draw your cards, Sergeant.”

He reached for the deck and picked up three cards, adding them to his hand. Dick watched the game play out for a moment - the sergeant discarded, Melanie drew two, then she discarded, and the sergeant drew again. All the while, Melanie talked to the man. He was missing his right leg up to the thigh - and a fleeting image of Bill Guarnere and Joe Toye passed through Dick’s mind. But judging by this soldier’s attitude, no one would have guessed anything was the matter with him. The way he smiled and chuckled at Melanie’s praise, he didn’t seem to notice that he was even in a hospital bed. 

Dick’s heart was warmed by the sight. Melanie really was back to her old self. She was off duty, and yet she sat with a man she didn’t know to bring him some small comfort. A simple card game. A chance for him to feel normal again, even for a few moments. Dick wasn’t sure which he admired more - her selflessness or how happy she looked to be where she was. The grin on her face gave away that she considered it no trouble to play a game with a patient when her rounds were over. She was genuinely glad to do it. Dick hoped Toye and Guarnere had similarly wonderful nurses wherever they were. 

“A canasta already?” she cried as Dick approached. “If you go out on me with all this in my hand, Sergeant, I’ll be finished for sure!”

She discarded and then finally, she looked up. She caught Dick’s eye as he took some tentative steps toward her, hesitant to interrupt. But she beamed at him, so he assumed he was welcome. 

“Good evening, Dick,” she said kindly. 

The sergeant turned and saw Dick, so he offered a quick salute. “Good evening, sir,” 

“Good evening,” Dick returned politely. “Sorry to interrupt.” 

“Not at all,” Melanie assured him. “Dick, this is Sergeant Samson - the finest canasta player in the US Army. Sergeant, this is Major Winters.” The two men shook hands and exchanged pleasantries. Then she met Dick’s gaze again. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah,” he said, and found himself regretting coming at all. She was busy, and he felt foolish for disrupting her moment of joy. “I can come back later, though -” 

“Actually, sir, I’m about ready for some sleep if Miss Melanie will let me off the hook,” Samson said. 

She cast him a playful look. “I see how you operate, Samson. Quit while you’re ahead, that way you don’t lose.”

He laughed, a bit bashful at her teasing, but she collected the cards all the same, and set them aside. 

“We’ll play again tomorrow if you like,” she offered.

“Of course,” he returned. “That is, if you enjoy losing that much!” 

She feigned offense while he chuckled some more. Then she fluffed his pillows and pulled the blankets up to his chest. Dick watched and felt a familiar stir in his heart of affection for her. She was the most beautiful person he had ever had the pleasure of knowing - and that did not just apply to her pretty face. Melanie was a sweet soul, a nurturing heart, and a bright mind. She was a high quality person. And tiny moments like this showed that to him more than anything. 

“Can I get you anything else before I go?” she offered Samson. 

He shook his head. “No, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.” 

“Good night, Sergeant,” she said. 

“Good night, ma’am, sir.” 

Dick nodded in acknowledgement before offering Melanie his arm, which she took, and they left the ward together. It struck him that her touch no longer made him so nervous. It thrilled him - even after knowing each other for years - but it was comfortable now. As if the crook of his arm was made for her hand. It was natural. 

“Is everything alright, Dick?” she asked as they stepped outside. “You seem troubled.”

He didn’t consider himself a particularly emotive person, but Melanie never failed to pick up on what he was feeling. Especially when he needed her. 

“It’s Nix,” he said. “His drinking...it’s become such a problem up at regiment that he was demoted today. When I told him that, he didn’t even seem to care.”

Melanie’s brows furrowed and she looked thoughtfully ahead. “I’m sorry to hear that. Lewis is a good man and a fine officer. I would have thought he’d be more invested.” 

“Well, in his defense, he’d just come back from that disaster of a jump,” Dick said. 

“What disaster of a jump?” she wondered. 

He told her what Nix had relayed to him - that the troopers didn’t even make it out of the plane. The CO was killed. Nix and just a handful of others survived out of sheer luck. 

“Oh, how awful,” she said, heartbroken.

 There really could be no moment between them where the war did not rear its ugly head, Dick thought bitterly. No matter what, there was some news of tragedy. Death sank its teeth into even a simple evening stroll. He decided to steer the conversation back to its original subject. 

“Seeing Lew like this just has me worried,” he said. “I feel like he’s close to spiraling, and I don’t have a clue what to do. I thought it was just a bad habit, but now...” he trailed off, unsure what to call his friend’s profound issue. 

“I’m afraid there isn’t much you can do,” Melanie told him. “Nix is...troubled, and he has his coping mechanism. Unless he wants to quit drinking, there’s nothing you - or anybody - can do to stop him from picking that bottle up again.”

Once again, he was being told to do nothing - frustrating and impossible advice. He had hoped for more from her. 

“What you can do,” she went on, and he felt a glimmer of hope again. “Is make yourself available to him. Let him know - subtly, of course - that you’re ready if and when he’ll need you. Eventually, it will come to a head, and he’ll need people in his corner that he can truly rely on.” 

“It still sounds like doing nothing,” he said, defeated. 

“I know you’re a man of action, Dick, but this will take patience,” she returned, understanding. 

He didn’t answer right away, still a bit frustrated. He also took a moment to look at her. The dim twilight was flattering on her skin. A cool breeze made her flyaway hairs stir around her head. She looked a bit like a painting with the Bavarian backdrop behind her. It struck him again how much he loved her. She met his gaze. 

“Dick?” 

He shook his head to clear it, though appreciating her beauty had eased some of his irritation about Nix. 

“Sorry,” he said. “You look nice tonight, that’s all.” 

“Thank you,” she said, blushing lightly. “I’m feeling much better now that we’ve got more food and I’m back in a hospital.” 

He had noticed her improvement over the past few days. Her cheeks were rounding out again, and she didn’t look so tired. Her bruises were gone, too. 

“I feel a bit silly,” she admitted. “I was fussing over how I looked when we first got here because I didn’t have lipstick or nail polish. What a ridiculous thing to worry about.” 

Melanie always looked natural, so he tried to remember the last time he saw her looking nicer than usual. It was Paris. Which was beginning to feel decades in the past instead of just months.

“It’s not ridiculous,” he assured her. “Silly, I’ll give you, but ridiculous is a strong word.” 

“Alright, silly it is then,” she teased back with a smile, and he ached at how much he adored it. 

They reached her billet, stopped outside the door, and faced each other. 

“This takes me back,” she said. “All the way to Aldbourne.” 

He nodded in agreement. “Yeah. I don’t think I’d recognize those two kids.” 

“Me neither,” she chuckled. “So much has happened. But, I…” 

He looked expectantly at her as she trailed off and gathered her thoughts. Her brow furrowed, which told him she was searching for the right words. 

“I am so grateful we’re still friends,” she said. “If it weren’t for you, I don’t think I could have made it this far.”

It was his turn to get flustered. For a moment, he stood there silently, a bit lost for words. It was such an honest and wonderful thing to say. How could he return that sentiment?

“Well, I don’t know about that, but I’m grateful too, Mel,” he said, feeling the understatement like an itch on his skin. “Really.” 

“I’m glad to hear that,” she said, smiling. “On that pleasant note, shall we say goodnight? Unless there’s anything else?”

He shook his head. “Thanks for listening. As always.” 

They said goodnight, and she went inside, no doubt to chat to Juliet before climbing into bed and settling in. Dick wanted only for Melanie to be safe and comfortable, especially after everything she’d been through. He hoped that after the war, she could end her days in his arms instead of alone, he could tell her plainly how much she meant to him, and that he could be her true refuge. Until then, his mind went to lipstick and nail polish…

The following day, on his way to HQ, he found some. An abandoned drug store sat on the intersection he crossed, and there were a few enlisted men already scrounging around inside, claiming whatever they could find. He normally wasn’t one for taking souvenirs, but he was more compelled by the idea of doing something nice for Melanie. So he stepped through the kicked in door and looked around. The makeup aisle had already been pretty thoroughly picked over - broken bottles and compacts littered the floor, but one last untouched gold tube on the shelf caught his eye. A red lipstick. He took it. 

He glanced around for nail polish too, but the only color left was a dark purple, which he could not for the life of him imagine Melanie wearing. The lipstick would have to do. 

 He intended on giving it to her that day, but he got caught up in several different briefings, which evidently could not be postponed. So many that he sent Zielinski to the hospital with a message asking Melanie to join him in his office for dinner. They hadn’t had significant time together in much too long, and he missed it. So he was grateful when she accepted and agreed to meet him at eight o’clock. 

Dick got worried when eight-fifteen came and went. He checked his watch for the tenth time in the last sixty seconds and sighed, fearing that Melanie had forgotten him. Or worse, something was terribly wrong at the hospital, and she was enduring further tragedy. Finally, when he was about ready to go looking for her himself, there was a knock on the door. 

“Come in!” he called. 

To his great relief, Melanie walked through the door, closing it softly behind her. She looked a bit sheepish as she came closer. 

“I’m so sorry I’m late, Dick,” she said. “Sergeant Samson and I were just wrapping up.”

“More canasta?” he asked. 

She nodded. “It’s his favorite game. He used to play it with his sisters back home. He’s got three of them.” 

“Three sisters, wow,” he remarked. “No brothers?”

“One,” she said sadly. “But he was killed on Guadalcanal.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. “But I’m impressed with you. You really get to know the men you’re treating.” 

“I certainly try,” she said. “Hospitals can often feel overly clinical and cold. Doctors don’t have much time to spend with patients, and nurses can get overwhelmed. I don’t want the patients to mistake that for not caring.” 

Dick had met very few people who had the emotional capability to invest so much in others. For a fleeting moment, he likened Melanie to a priest or pastor, with a flock of people to look after, but what she did was different. She wasn’t a spiritual guide or advisor. She was a simple comfort. A place to tell someone about your favorite game or your siblings or your life story. A generous ear to listen to you talk about something besides your pain. 

“That’s very sweet of you,” he told her, keeping the true depth of it to himself. 

She took a seat across from him at his desk, and they had dinner together. At first, she asked mostly about him and how he was doing, but he eventually turned it around. He let her talk about the patients she’d met at this hospital, and she shared little tidbits of their lives. She wasn’t burdened by it, either. In each one, she found something of interest, worth remembering and holding onto. He listened, but he knew he’d never be able to recall everything the way she did. But he hoped he helped by doing a little bit of what she did for others, for her.  

When they finished eating, she sat back with a satisfied smile. He loved that look on her face and he couldn’t help but smile a bit himself. To continue that momentum, he went into his desk and pulled out his gift for her. He didn’t have a box or anything this time, so it wasn’t nearly as big as the gift of the dress, but he hoped she’d still appreciate it. 

“I got something for you,” he said. 

She raised an eyebrow. “You did?”

He placed the tube of lipstick on the desk as her mouth fell open. But a sparkle in her eyes told him it was a delighted sort of shock. 

“Where did you get this?” she gasped. She picked it up and examined it, as if not quite believing it was real. 

“There’s a drug store in town that’s...no longer in operation,” he explained. He still didn’t love that he’d technically stolen it, but he wouldn’t let her know. ���I think every man in the regiment got something for the women in his life. And you mentioned wanting some.” 

“And you remembered?” she wondered. 

“Sure I did,” he replied with a chuckle. 

“How kind of you,” she said, her grin widening. “I can’t wait to use it! Thank you so much!”

Did anything feel better than making her happy? Dick wasn’t sure. The warmth in his chest told him there was nothing. It didn’t matter that he’d taken it by looting. For that smile, he was prepared to commit highway robbery.  

“You’re welcome,” he returned. 

He watched her gaze at the items in her hand, a pensive, contemplative expression coming over her features. There was something more she wanted to say. Knowing her, she would shake her head, smile again, and mumble “never mind” mostly to herself before moving on. He hoped she wouldn’t, so he remained silent, giving her the space to work through what she was thinking. 

“It seems silly to say this over something so small,” she began, her voice soft, so he had to lean closer in order to hear. “But may I share something with you?” 

“Of course,” he assured her, though the question made him nervous. 

He tried to think of what could make her so serious all of a sudden, but nothing immediately came to mind. A split second of doubt came over him that she was going to confess she had met someone else because she was tired of waiting for him. But that seemed like a rather outlandish conclusion to jump to. He slowed down his thoughts and focused on her. 

“I know you’ve been wondering about what caused me to leave the hospital in Bastogne and come to the front lines,” she began. “And I haven’t been able to tell you. I’m sorry.” 

He was still curious, but he certainly didn’t want her to feel like she had to talk about that just because of a lipstick he didn’t even pay for. 

“You don’t have to-”

“Please,” she cut across him. “Let me get this out before I lose my nerve.” 

“Take your time,” he said gently. 

She nodded and took a deep breath. Tears pricked her eyes as she released it, slow and shaky. He mentally braced himself to hear the worst. 

“Before the hospital was bombed, Terry...made me an offer,” she continued. “For a life together after the war. He told me he had always had feelings for me and basically that he wanted to marry me.” She ran the fingers on her right hand over the ring finger of her left. 

“Naturally, I refused,” she went on. “I wasn’t in love with him.” She paused there, toying with the lipstick tube, as if debating adding something onto that sentence, but decided against it. “I thought my answer was clear, even before the bombing. But the day I was supposed to return to work, he came to my room.”

She stopped again, chewing her bottom lip before swallowing hard. 

“He’d had a bit to drink,” she said. “He wasn’t out of control, but I could smell it when he got close to me. He proposed again. I refused him. He shouted at me that he loved me. He said he couldn’t bear the thought of me with another man. And that’s when he started to throw things.” 

Beads of sweat appeared on her brow and hairline. She wiped them away with the back of her hand, undeterred, though trembling. She rubbed her hand against the fabric of her dress to dry it off.

“I pleaded with him to stop, but he grabbed me by my face,” she said. “Painfully. Then he looked me in the eyes and threatened to...crush my skull against the vanity, to use his words.” 

She looked at him, and suddenly, she halted and met his gaze.

“Am I upsetting you?” she asked. 

If he didn’t know her better, he would have thought she was being sarcastic - trying to remind him just who really had been hurt here, but she wasn’t. She was genuinely concerned about him in a moment like this. Her tone, apologetic. 

Dick’s anger had risen from a simmer to a boil. He’d been trying to maintain composure as she spoke. He did not want her to lose her nerve by seeing him get agitated, but he couldn’t help the set of his jaw. He regretted not fighting Clarke when he’d had the chance because maybe this might not have happened. It’s harder to throw things and grab people with broken fingers, after all. He shook his head and took a deep breath to calm down, intentionally relaxing every muscle in his face. 

“I’m fine, Mel,” he lied. “Please, go on.” 

She raised a skeptical eyebrow, but did not protest. 

“I tried to resist,” she continued. “But then he grabbed me by the throat. If he said anything else at that point, I didn’t hear. I was blacking out quickly. And for a moment, I was afraid...I was so afraid I was going to die.” 

She choked on the last word, and she swiped the tear that leaked onto her cheek away quickly. He kept his gaze fixed on her face, watching her lip quiver. He knew it was ridiculous, but overwhelming guilt sank its claws into his heart. He should have been there to defend her. He should have warned Colonel Sink about Terry. He should have done something. Even now, he wished he could protect her from the very memory of it. 

“I don’t know what came over me,” she said. “But somehow I found the strength to get away. I remember striking him, but not much else. That was when Colonel Sink showed up. And I begged him to let me go...well, anywhere that wasn’t the hospital. He suggested the Bois Jacques, and I agreed.” 

He sat with it a moment, impressed at her resilience, and a little relieved that nothing worse had happened - and he had imagined much worse, especially when she said the altercation had taken place in her bedroom. But she got away. She rescued herself. There was something to be said for that. 

“I’m so sorry you went through that, Mel,” he said. “You were very brave.”

“Please don’t flatter me, Dick,” she replied. “Dogs have enough courage to fight back when attacked. I acted on instinct.”

“Even so, you did well,” he insisted. He hesitated asking his next question, unsure how she might take it or if she was receptive to being questioned at all. 

“Why didn’t you report him?” he asked, feeling desperate. “That’s a court martial offense, assaulting a fellow officer.”

“Colonel Sink offered to do the paperwork, but I asked him not to,” she told him. “There’s no point, really. It would be my word against his and that rarely goes well for a woman.” 

Dick carefully disguised his distaste for that answer. He wasn’t frustrated by Melanie, but that she was right. 

“Besides,” she said. “He didn’t really do anything. He just frightened me, that’s all.” 

“That’s a bit of an understatement,” he returned. “He nearly killed you.” 

She shrugged, keeping her eyes fixed on her hands, which were in her lap now, fidgeting with the lipstick tube, which made a soft pop each time she opened or closed it.

“You may think you’re being kind by showing him mercy, Mel,” he said. “But Terry should be at the least reprimanded for what he’s done. I know it’s hard, but you’re brave enough to -”

She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. 

“Dick, stop it!” she cried, looking desperately at him. “I’m not brave or strong or kind or anything else! I’m scared, alright?! I didn’t report Terry because I’m terrified that he will find me again! And how much worse would it be if he had nothing to lose?! It isn’t mercy, it’s fear!”

She lowered her eyes to the floor and tried to draw in a breath. It was shallow and shaky, catching on the lump in her throat. He couldn’t stand that he was not holding her. So he got to his feet, crossed to the other side of his desk, stood before her, and held out his hand. She looked at it, then up at his face, before placing her fingers in his palm. He helped her to stand. Then, he gathered her up in his arms. Her forehead found a resting place on his chest, and she nuzzled into him. They fit together like puzzle pieces. 

“I’m sorry, Melanie,” he whispered in her ear. “I’m so sorry.” When she only nodded, he continued. “You’re safe now.” 

“Yes,” she said softly into his chest. “Yes, I know.”

He made a silent promise to himself and her. From here on out, he would be her personal shield. No one deserved what she had endured, but she especially didn’t. This woman, who was all heart and grace and goodness. He would protect her with everything he had.

[j-diamond]

(Not) Worth It (Edward x reader)

I am so ridiculously sorry and frankly embarrassed at how long it took me to write this request. i apologize for stalling, and hope that this is to your liking.

   “Guess what?” you call as you burst through the doors to the filing room. Your demeanor deflates when you see Officer Dougherty with his fist raised and an unconscious Ed in his other. You were sick of it, this was the last straw. Your face contorts into a frown, turning to your right, you slam the files that were in your hand atop the nearest filing cabinet. The mere sound of it sends the other two officers running. You chuckle slowly at their cowardice as you watch them run away, “I see you’ve seemed to have forgotten last week’s lesson.” your voice was low, dripping with malice, your eyes having gone wide. You slam the door shut as you turn around laughing, “I guess I’ll just have to reteach it.” Tom had let go of Ed, tossing him to the floor. Your gaze returns to Tom, your knuckles growing whiter. You smirk at him, knowing he wasn’t going to recover soon, “Shall we begin?”

   “Knock knock.” you say softly as you lean against the door frame.    “Come in.” Ed responds, not bothering to look up from his deskwork. You smile sympathetically at him as you walk over to him,    “How ya holdin’ up?” you ask , bringing your clipboard closer to your chest. He looks at you, the darkening bruise developing on his left temple answering your question, “You look like a punching bag.” you joke trying to get him to smile. Instead he looks down hastily,    “Better me than her.” he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper. But you hear it, your heart stopping at the words. You look down, understanding what he’d meant,     “Kringle.” you mutter softly, in an almost disbelief. Your breath hitches as you realize he’d done  all that just for her. He threw himself intentionally into harm’s way, for her. Your grip tightens on the clipboard. All of this for her, no, all of this because of her.    “Y/n?” Ed calls softly upon seeing your distressed look,    “Is it worth it?” you ask quietly as you loosen your grip.    “What do you-” he starts but you interrupt him,    “Is she worth it?” your voice barely reaches above a whisper, but he could hear you clearly, “I mean I know you love her, but is she worth getting yourself beaten to a pulp?” You go to meet his gaze, but he breaks it in favor of the floor,    “I love Ms. Kringle.” he says, as if for reassurance, “And Officer Dougherty doesn’t deserve a woman like her. She’s sweet and smart and if I can just prove to her that I’m a better man for her than him, she’ll be with me.” You shake your head, as your eyes begin glazing over,    “But what about Tom?” you ask, your voice wavering slightly, “Everything he does to you, all the beatings, all the trash he talks. The way him, and his troupe look down on you. Is she worth all that?” He nods softly,   “I love her.” he says again, your heart cracking, “And I know that even though I can’t beat him physically. I am still intellectually better. It may not be much right now, but it’ll count for something. If I show him that he doesn’t scare me and that I can take any beating he throws my way then he’ll stop throwing them, just like last time.” your eyebrows crease,    “Last time?” you ask, unsure of what he meant.    “I don’t know much, but I know he was beating me, but I passed out.” he says, his eyes darting, trying to remember, “But I assume he stopped because he got bored. The only punch that was bruised, was this one.” He points to the previous one on his left temple, “So if I continue to do that, he’ll stop wanting to fight me entirely.” You groan, frustrated that he’d been thinking that's why Tom had stopped beating him.    “Ed, that’s not-” You pause, unsure if you should tell him. You look at him, able to see that he was interested. You sigh, you didn’t want to tell him. He didn’t need to know you protected him, after all he was only doing so to ‘protect’ Kringle, “That won’t work. Men like Tom Dougherty don’t just tire from the same...” your voice beginning to grow bitter, “They get off on beating up people they deem weaker than themselves. They won’t let off until being forced to do so.” You stop, thinking about it. You’d protect him this entire time, yet, he doesn’t know, and probably wouldn’t. He’d been protecting Kringle, she knows this, and yet she still doesn’t care. You and him were basically the same, “I’m not like you Ed.” Your voice settles, softer than before, “I can’t keep getting myself hurt because of a person I love.” You turn, your breath uneven, “Bye Ed.” Ed watched as you left, speechless; unknowingly letting you slip through his fingers.

   “I know what you did.” A voice says from behind you. You pause, fighting the instinct to respond, having already figured out who it was. You weren’t going to give them the satisfaction, not when your heart was already weak, moments away from shattering. “I’ll wait.” They say, their voice almost pompous. You sigh inwardly, you needed a change of scenery, staying here would only lead to disaster. So you begin putting away your files, opting out to finish them another day. You look up to see Ms. Kringle guarding the door and you sit back down, pinching the bridge of your nose in irritation.    “Yes Ms. Kringle?” you ask, not wanting to deal with her. She saunters over to your desk. You raise an eyebrow at her obvious faux confidence.    “Tom hasn’t been to work for three days.” She says accusingly. Her hand resting on her hip.     “Well I assume it’s because he needed a day to rest, and another to recover.” You smirk, pretending to think, “The third is probably just for show.” You flash a smile. You weren’t trying to have this conversation, “But honestly it’s none my business, he is your boyfriend. I wish you wouldn’t include me in your toxic relationship.” You stand, readying to leave, enforcing your decision. Yet Kringle apparently had other ideas as she, yet again, blocked your only exit. You smiled, staring deeply into her eyes, “Ms. Kristen Kringle, I do believe it’d be in everyone’s best interest if you refrained from continuing to block my exit.” Your smile dropped, “Unless you wish to get physical.” You intended to scare her into moving, but seeing a sense of familiarity wash over her face, you were reminded of just how toxic her relationship was. You pause, you hated her, but she didn’t deserve that. You sigh inwardly. You grab her arm pulling her to you, “What do you want?” Her eyes shift, surveying the room trying to remember,    “It’s a violation of station rules to assault an officer.” she states, having found the words. You let go of her, completely done with her. She had no valid points, yet she came here to disrupt you anyway. “I’ll report you.” You pause, and then shrug, picking up your phone, ready to leave.    “Okay.” you say as you go to leave,    “That’s it?” she says and a misplaced anger begins to boil inside of you, “you’ll let me report you?”    “Yep.” you say as the anger begins doubling over, “Because you’re not going to do it.”     “And why not?” she asks, as she goes to block your exit again, letting all control leave your body, the misplaced anger showing itself.    “Because you’re a brat.” you say, your voice hardening. She opens her mouth but you shove your hand over her mouth, “No. See you don’t get to talk. Not this time. You can be a brat with your dick of a boyfriend. You can be a brat at work, home and anywhere else. But not with me. You don’t be a brat with me. Because you won’t like how I respond.” Your hand unknowingly lowers to her throat, “See if it were up to me, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” Your hand begins tightening, “but your boyfriend doesn’t seem to be able to learn his place. So it’s his fault. With that being said, keep me out of your thoughts and keep my name out of your mouth. Because if you try this again-” Ed’s face appears over hers and you realize what you’re doing. You let go of her and sigh, your entire demeanor changing,    “Just because he likes you doesn’t mean I have to.” You say softly, “Please stay away from me.”

   “Ms. Kringle isn’t good for you.” You say, avoiding eye contact, “I don’t think she’s worth it. Any of it.” You sigh, bending over to splash water in your face. This wasn’t going to work. No matter how many times you said it, no matter how many ways you said it; you’d never be able to say it to his face. ‘Maybe it’s me who’s not worth it.’ You think to yourself. Your mind goes back to all those times you’d protected him, he’d been protecting Kringle. Thinking about the way his face lit up when he saw her and even when he talked about her, made you realize it never did when he was with you. “All this time it was me.” You say softly. “I’ve been projecting myself on her this entire time. I’m not worth it.” You stare into the mirror, the face staring back confirming it. “I’m the one who’s not worth it.” Your knees buckle in realization.    “Resigning?” Captain Essen asks, shock evident in her eyes. You nod your head in response, “Could I ask you why?”    “Things have grown... toxic for me.” You say softly, avoiding eye contact, “I fear for my mental stability.”    “I get that.” She says making you look up in surprise, which she returns with a smile. “I heard you held your own against Dougherty. He’s a pretty big guy, must take a toll on a person.” You look at her, eyebrow raised, at what she was implying. She smirks, walking over to you, “I like you Y/n. You’re one of my best detectives.”     “But I barely do detective work. I mostly just file.” You admit. She shakes her head,    “Nah, I still like ya.” She says, resting her arm over your shoulder, “Now bear with me.” She tosses your letter on the desk, “I’ll give you a week of paid suspension, then you can come back.” You open your mouth to protest but she shakes her head again, silencing you, “If you feel like you still don’t belong, then you can leave. Deal?” She raises an eyebrow, making you sigh. You nod,    “Fine.” You start, trying to hide the smirk you felt inside, “But only because you’re my favorite Captain.” She chuckles,    “I’m your only captain.” She retorts, smiling as she sits back down.     “I guess it kinda works itself out then.” You add right before you leave, and as you go you can hear her laughter. 

   “Oh, hello.” A voice says, but again, you fight the instinct to look their way; this time for an entirely different reason, “It’s empty in here.” You inhale, your emotions beginning to bubble.    “Yes.” you answer, heart heavy.    “Well, I need a little help.” He says, teetering by the door. You pause, waiting for him to continue. You nod, signaling for him to continue, as you also continue placing items into your bag.    “Well.” He says, pausing to think of how to phrase it, “I-I have been having trouble crafting the perfect riddle.” You pause, surprised, “F-for Ms. Kringle, I mean.” Your almost smile disappears, as tears begin pooling in your eyes. He continues talking as he begins to fidget, probably explaining his thought process, but you weren’t really listening. You were busying yourself, packing, a lame attempt at trying to keep yourself from breaking apart further. You inhale again, shakily this time, and your eyes betray you, leaking ever so slightly. “What do you think?” he asks, breaking through your wall of despair. You stare at the frame of you and Ed that you kept on your desk and wipe your eyes. You pull a fake smile,    “It’ll be lovely.” You say, steadying yourself, “She should love it.” Your smile falls lopsided, and you pass by him, eyes glued to your feet.

   You return home, placing your items near the door, knowing that you’d be trashing them eventually. Plopping onto the couch you sigh, relaxation finally settling in. But just as you begin to relax, the weight you carried hardened, and you began feeling it all; everything you ever held in, ever felt, never said released itself. And like a floodgate, the tears spilled.

   “L/n,” Edward says looking at his clipboard, “I believe the best way-” He pauses, realizing you weren’t here. He looks around, perplexed, it had been three days, and you still hadn’t shown. Part of him grew worried, but he knew it couldn’t have been bad, could it?

   “Captain Essen?” He calls, and she looks up at him,    “What is it Edward?” She asks, scourging her desk for missing files. He pauses, unsure of how to phrase what he was thinking. “Yes, Edward?” She asks again, this time looking at him, her eyes ushering him to talk. He swallows the lump in his throat, his eyes favoring his feet,    “The case files suggested that with the angle of the stab wound, the stab itself would have to have come from a suspect who is likely to be 5’9”.” He spat out, ridiculing himself for not asking what he originally intended to. Her eyebrows knit together,    “Thank you Edward.” She says unsure if that was really his reason for entering. Nevertheless he turns to leave, no other words being uttered. She slumps into her chair, knowing that without Y/n’s help she wouldn’t find the files. Then it clicks, “Edward,” She calls and he pauses before he closes the door.    “Yes?” He asks, peeking his head in, his face still solemn. She smiles softly at him,    “She’s on paid suspension.” 

   A knock on the door startles you. Glancing around, you second guess whether you’d actually heard it or not. However, as you begin to doze off, the knock resounds again and you groan.    "I’m coming!” you shout as you sluggishly force yourself off of the couch. You stretch as you walk and to your disdain they knock again, "I am coming to the door!” you sigh as you reach the doorknob. You hesitate, opting to instead look through the peephole. You stop, your nerves rising on edge, "Hello Nygma.” you call through the door,    “YN." His voice calls, and your heart leaps, "You've not been to work in four days now.”    "That’s correct.”    ''I- is everything alright?”    "Everything is fine.” You lie, and you can feel his hesitation, "I promise.”    “Are-” he pauses, clearly unsure, “if..” another pause, "truly?”    "Ed," you beckon, your heart racing, “I’m perfectly fine.” There's a shuffle behind the door, and you let go of the breath you’d been holding. He was gone, and a part of you left with him.

   You awake to a familiar aroma. You enter your kitchen to find tupperware of what appeared to be your favorite food.    “I didn’t…” you say aloud to yourself. You pause, trying to put things together.    “Oh, that was me.” A voice says and you whip around quickly, but pause, seeing who it was. “S-sorry.” Edward stutters having noticed your fight stance. You feel your emotions swell as you relax your stance.    “Why?” You ask as you slowly go to sit on the floor. “Why are you here Ed?” He pauses noticing your slow movements,    “I, I still had a key. And I was just leaving I promise. I don’t want to bother you. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I assumed you were just under the weather and I was worried that-”    “I’m not ‘under the weather’ Edward. I’m fine.” You repeat, "I’m fine.”    “Why do you keep saying that?” he asks, "You're not. a-and i’m not sure why, but please let me help.”    "You can’t help.”    “Why?”    "Because you can’t.”    “Why? Y/n, why?”    “Because if you help me I might fall even farther in love with you!” You shout, finally cracking, tears stream from your eyes as you completely melt, your back against the floor, “because I’m in love with you.” you cover your face, “and you’re in love with her.” you pause catching your breath, “and you won’t stop being in love with her no matter what I say or do and it's not fair because she doesn’t even deserve you.” you sigh through your hands, “and I guess that means I don’t deserve you.” your tears finally begin to slow, but your heart fastens when you realize you couldn’t hear anything over your pathetic sobs.     “You don’t deserve me,” his voice whispers, and had you not been listening for it--you wouldn’t have heard it. You inhale sharply, knowing that it was true, but not having wanted to hear it from his own mouth. You feel hands wrap around your wrists, swaying them from your face, “not when I don’t even deserve you.” Your eyes meet his, and you notice a glossiness to them. You reach a hand to his face,    “You deserve to be happy.” You say, your brain finally accepting your false truth, “and if she is what makes you happy, then she’s worth it.” he chuckles softly,   “You’re what makes me happy.” he says, eyes not leaving yours, “I’m” he pauses, “I’m sorry I didn’t see that.” You open your mouth to speak but he cuts you off with a hug, “You’re worth it, because you make me happy, and I would rather lose a thousand Kringles than lose one you.” Your arms finally wrap around him, accepting the warm embrace you hadn’t known you needed.

[thinkingaboutyoungroyals]

Falling For You But You Are Worlds Away: Chapter 4

AO3

Three months passed. The winter snow melted and made way for spring showers.

Simon was proud to say that he had managed to adjust to life in New York fairly well.

The first month was difficult, there was no doubt about that. He was constantly sad and missed his mother, Sara, Ayub, Rosh, and… Wilhelm. He mostly stayed home unless Ana or Tia Elena would drag him out. He hated the subway and how loud and tight it was. And he rarely talked to anyone at school unless he really had to and mostly stuck to Ana’s side during lunch and GSA meetings.

But, eventually, he got used to all of it. 

His homesickness was often abated by speaking to his mother every week and messaging Sara, Ayub, and Rosh on Instagram almost everyday.

“How are you, mi amor?” his mother would ask.

“I’m fine, Mama,” he would reply.

“How’s school?” she would follow up.

And, then, Simon would tell her about his day, what he and his new friends have been up to, and toss something in about how much the subway sucks.

“Spoken like a true New Yorker,” Ana said when she heard him.

Simon also made a new Instagram so he could post photos of his adventures in New York (he had to abandon the old one – there were too many creeps sliding in his DMs and many of them made him sick to his stomach). After much urging from Ana, he finally joined the school’s Glee Club and met some nice people he could hang out with. And he and Darren from GSA had become very good friends.

It was obvious from the get-go that Darren had the biggest crush on Dominic, the GSA president, and was always flirting and trying to get the older boy to go out with him. Dominic always refused, stating school as the priority over dating. It never deterred Darren, though, as he kept trying. Simon both admired his persistence and found him kind of idiotic for going after someone who didn’t want to go out with him.

(“All in the name of love, baby,” Darren said in response to Simon’s blunt observation.)

And, speaking of dating, Simon was pretty proud of himself for actually managing to go on a date. Even though he said he wasn’t looking to date, at first, he found himself wanting to give it a shot. So, he said “yes” to the one boy from Glee Club who asked him out. He was nice and had a beautiful singing voice. It didn’t really go anywhere, though. Simon partly blamed it on the fact that the boy wasn’t really his type and partly because he really wasn’t over Wilhelm, yet.  

But, it was progress… right?

And, today, he was making one more step towards it.

“I think you’re next,” piped Ana from the seat beside him. “You sure you want to do this?”

Simon swallowed the lump in his throat. “Y-Yeah,” he managed, a little nervous. “You said this will help.”

His cousin bit her lip and shrugged. “I mean, it’s a superstition… belief… thing. I don’t know if it works but people say it does.”

“No harm in trying.” Simon fiddled with the sleeves of his sweater. “Besides, it’s getting long anyway.”

“Hi,” said the kind-looking Asian woman. “It's your turn.”

Simon nodded as he stood up. He followed her until they reached an empty chair, which she swung towards him. He sat and she whirled it around to face the mirror.

“What would you like?” she asked as she fastened a long black cape over his body.

“Um… can you cut about… three inches?”

Her eyes widened. “Really? You have nice curly hair. Prettiest I’ve seen.”

He blushed. “Thanks. But, um, yes, just cut it, please.”

The hairdresser looked a little sad at the prospect of cutting Simon’s hair but she nodded and prepared her tools.

Simon took one last look at his hair – his curly mess of a hair that Wilhelm loved to playfully tug and run his fingers through.

It will be gone soon. And, maybe, along with it, his feelings for the Crown Prince of Sweden.

..........

Wilhelm was making no progress in moving on. Maybe because he didn’t really want to move on.

He had been regularly meeting with the school therapist. It helped his anxiety a little but it wasn’t like he could really talk about missing Simon, regretting his decisions, and how he wished (for the thousandth time) that he wasn’t a prince.

But, if there was anything he learned from being royal was that if you wanted something done, efficiently, you can either delegate or do it yourself. And since he could not delegate his search for Simon to others, he would do it himself.

The smell of hay and horses greeted Wilhelm as soon as he stepped into the stables. It didn’t bother him, he liked horses. They were nicer than people so he understood why Sara liked them so much.

One black horse tapped Wilhelm’s head as he passed and Wilhelm paused to rub its nose. The horse snorted, making Wilhelm chuckle before going on his way.

As expected, he found Sara in Rousseau’s stall, happily brushing him as she made small talk.

Wilhelm paused, unsure about continuing. She was still angry with him and he couldn’t blame her. But, three months had passed and he was desperate. He would face her wrath if it meant he could finally know where Simon was.

Clearing his throat, he stepped closer.

Sara turned her head and as soon as she saw him, her smile disappeared and her eyes narrowed.

“What are you doing her, Prince?” she practically hissed.

Wilhelm bit his lip. “I just… want to talk to you.”

Sara turned back to Rousseau. “I’m not telling you where my brother is.”

“Sara, please.”

She put away the brushes before turning to him. “Why should I do that for you?”

Wilhelm bit his lip, stumped. Sara’s gaze was piercing on him and if looks could kill, he had no doubt he was a goner.

“You’re not… doing it for me. Not really.”

She quirked an eyebrow.

Wilhelm took a deep breath and released a sigh. “I made a mistake,” he confessed. “What I did to Simon… it’s unforgivable. I shouldn’t have left him alone. I should have… done something different. But, it’s done and there’s nothing I can do anymore. That’s why I need to talk to him again. I need to make it up to him. I just… Sara, I just…” He bit his lip again. “I miss him… I miss, Simon. And, I know I don’t deserve him. But, I miss him.”

Sara continued to stare at him, her face unreadable. She wasn’t budging.

Wilhelm swallowed, not really wanting to resort to what he ended up saying next.

“And... You owe him… and me.”

Sara blinked. “What are you talking about?”

Wilhelm took another deep breath to strengthen his resolve. “I know that you knew that August leaked the video.”

He watched as her expression finally changed – from indifference to shock.

“He promised to help you apply for a grant but he didn’t. So, you told Felice what he did and she didn’t speak to you for a week. I know because she told me but begged me not to do anything. She cares about you. And I wouldn’t have anyway because you’re Simon’s sister and he loves you.”

It was Felice who helped Sara get the grant, gave her recommendations and everything.  

“But, you never told Simon any of this. So, yes, you owe him and you owe me.”

She glared at him. “I don’t like you.”

“I know.” Wilhelm took a tentative step closer. “Please, Sara. I need to talk to him.”

She sighed. “Mama will be angry with me.”

“I won’t tell her that you told me.”

Sara pursed her lips as she looked at him, as if examining him for more lies. Then, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them again to catch his gaze.

“Just so you know, I’m just telling you so that you’d leave me alone. And don’t you dare tell Simon about me and August. I… I’ll tell him, myself. Just not right now because he’s not here and I don’t want him to be angry with me while he’s so far away.”

Wilhelm held his breath, his heart beating as he waited in anticipation.

“He’s in New York. We have an aunt there. He’s living with her.”

New York. Simon was in New York. That was only eight hours away by plane. The Royal family had a private jet. Could he get away with borrowing it and leaving for a weekend? Surely, it wouldn’t hurt to just pop in, right? He could come up with some excuse to his mother. Hell, maybe she didn’t even have to know!

“Wilhelm.”

His mental plans were disrupted by Sara’s firm voice. He looked at her as she frowned at him.

“I know what you’re thinking. And you shouldn’t. Simon is okay there. He has friends. And he likes New York.”

The hope in Wilhelm began to wither.

“It’s not forever, you know,” said Sara. “He’ll be back.”

Wilhelm swallowed, fingers digging into his palm. “Does he hate me?”

To his surprise, Sara chuckled and shook her head. “I don’t think there’s anything you can do to make Simon hate you.” She stepped up to him and awkwardly patted his arm. “You don’t have to worry about that. Just… let him be, for now, okay?”

Wilhelm nodded.  “Okay. Thank… Thank you, Sara. Thank you.”

She offered him a small smile. “Anything else?”

He shook his head then looked at Rousseau. “Need help?”

Her eyes widened at that. “A prince? Helping at the stables?”

He shrugged and walked over to Rousseau. “I know how to ride and I’ve helped take care of horses before.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, suspicious, before shrugging. She picked up the brush again and tossed it at him.

“Then, get to work, Prince.”

Wilhelm smiled. He and Sara barely talked before, even when he and Simon were… together. He felt a little awkward around her, sometimes. But, maybe they could be friends. After all, they were both missing Simon. That was one thing they had in common.

“I still don’t like you, though,” she said.

One step at a time.

........

Wilhelm kept his promise to Sara and resisted getting on his private plane and taking off for New York.

He lasted until June.

And, it wasn’t his fault, really.

He heard Madison and Felice talking about the latter visiting her in New York during workies.

So, Wilhelm had leaned over and asked, “Can I join you?”

Maddie blinked in confusion. “What?”

“Can I join you in New York?”

Maddie's brows furrowed. “Um… sure. But, why, though?”

Wilhelm grinned. “Simon is there. And I want to see him.”

[charincharge]

Cruel Summer, Part 18

cruel summer masterlist

AN: This chapter is almost 4k words... whereas most of them have been just over 2k, so -- we had a lot of things going on. And some hopefully insightful revelations. Anyway, thank you all for your patience while I struggled with this one. I hope you enjoy learning a litttle bit more about Aelin. Okay, ONWARDS!

Aelin glances at her buzzing phone and silences it. It rings with another phone call from her dad that she sends straight to voicemail. It’s been almost three weeks since her blowout fight with her mom, and her dad has tried in vain to get them to reconcile – she’s just not ready yet.

“Your dad again?” Rowan asks, coming to sit on the couch with her. Rowan has been an undeniable pillar of strength through it all. He hasn’t pushed her to talk about the fight – he’s simply let her exist in his space, giving her a wide berth to process everything. Which is ironic, because Aelin has refused to process a single thing. She’s pushed all her discontent to the back of her brain, easily compartmentalized and boxed away to be dealt with at a later date. It’s Aelin’s most impressive ability. But, regardless of “not dealing,” she knows that without Rowan’s silent support she would have fallen apart already. She can’t even begin to express her gratefulness to him. Though, she’s tried. With her mouth. And other parts of her body.

Rowan’s fingers gently dance against the bare skin of her shoulder, and she leans into him and nods. He pulls her tighter into his side and kisses her forehead, and Aelin melts into him further.

Their moment is interrupted by Manon entering the small apartment. She takes a look at the couple on the couch and attempts to reign in her scowl, but Aelin spots it anyway. She’s come to realize that Manon might not be her biggest fan.

“Oh, you’re here…” Manon says, tossing her bag onto the kitchen counter.

“Not for long,” Rowan replies, and Aelin perks up, curious. She’d assumed they were just going to hang out in his room, like usual. Rowan looks back down at Aelin. “I was thinking we could go take some photos on the beach before the sun completely sets.”

Rowan’s favorite activity makes Aelin smile. He received a brand new Nikon and zoom lens from his mother in the mail, and she’s never seen Rowan so outwardly blown away as when he pulled it from the box. He’s snapped more pictures than she can count over the last few weeks, most of them of Aelin, which she pretends to be annoyed by but secretly loves.

Aelin glances down at her outfit – comfy leggings and one of Rowan’s old college t-shirts. “I’ll go get changed.”

He squeezes her hand as she gets up from the couch, and she makes her way into Rowan’s room to sort through the pile of clothes Dorian pinched from her room at home. She throws on a dark blue maxi dress and pulls her hair from its top knot. She fluffs her hair in the mirror, feeling more camera ready.

Rowan smiles when he sees Aelin emerge from his room, and her stomach flutters at the sight of his contented face.

They wave goodbye to Manon, who replaces them on the couch with her dinner, looking relieved to have the place to herself.

“Where to?” Aelin asks as Rowan ushers her down to his truck.

“Know any good private beaches?” he asks, and she frowns. She does. It just happens to be a very short walk away from her backyard. Rowan sees her face and squeezes her hand over the center console. “We don’t have to see your family. But. I thought maybe you’d want to.”

Aelin scrolls through the many texts from her father, which she’s left unanswered.

Fireheart, we understand you need time to cool down, but please call us when you’re ready.

Please, Aelin. Talk to us.

Your mother is sorry. She didn’t mean what she said. She was just emotional. She loves you so much. It’s upsetting her every day to know that she hurt you so badly.

Do you plan to stay with Elide indefinitely?

Are you really going to miss out on our family park day?

Gavin and Evie asked where you were today.

Dorian stopped to get your clothes. He says you’re doing well, but I’d really like to see for myself.

Fireheart, I understand that you’re hurt, but cutting us out isn’t going to make this better.  

We return to Adarlan in less than a month. Let’s not have this argument ruin the rest of the summer.

The texts feel endless. And Aelin does miss her dad. She just can’t believe her mom hasn’t tried to reach out and apologize to her. After everything she said… Aelin shakes it off, not willing to think about those hateful words and shrugs at Rowan.

“Sure.”

“Really?” he asks cautiously. Aelin nods. He’s right. Their private beach is the perfect place for a sunset photoshoot.

They park at the Playland, which is still bustling with activity, and walk down the beach until they get to the pale sand behind the Ashryver’s estate. Aelin glances up at her room balcony in the distance, half covered in twining roses, and her chest clenches uncomfortably.

Rowan surprises Aelin by wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her back against his chest, and she relaxes into him. He leans down and sticks his nose against her neck, and Aelin releases a shaky breath. As his chin finds a place to rest on her shoulder, Aelin’s eyes slide toward him, taking in the periphery of his tanned face and messy hair. She can’t help but smile.

Click.

The shutter of the camera whirs as Rowan takes a picture of them.

“Test shot,” he says, straightening up and looking at the display. Aelin peers over his arm to look, too, and she gasps at the casually beautiful photo.

It’s a closeup of their faces – with a soft pastel sunset out of focus behind them. But the thing that really shocks is the way she looks at Rowan. And the way he smiles back at her. She looks so happy with him. Aelin is so happy with him. She wants to print that photo out and keep it forever so she can remember this feeling long after this summer ends. Her stomach rumbles with something akin to sadness, but she pushes it far, far down. She knows her feelings about her mother aren’t the only thing she’s decided to compartmentalize – but she’s not going to unpack those either.

“I think that’s the first picture you’ve taken of us together,” she comments coolly, and Rowan lifts an eyebrow.

“I guess it is.” He looks down at the display screen again, then back at her with a confident smile. “We look pretty good together.”

“You’ll send that one to me, right?” she asks, and Rowan’s green eyes glow brightly as he assures her he will.

He leans down and kisses her forehead – his new favorite place to kiss, and a blanket of warmth and joy caresses Aelin’s face. Rowan directs her down to the water, where the small waves crash against the sand, and Aelin pulls up the long skirt of her dress, so as not to get wet. As she skips through the waves, her feet dancing in circles across the darkened sand, Rowan snaps pictures.

Aelin lets her heavy worries about her mother and their fight and the impending end of summer float away as she enjoys living in this moment. The setting sun casts shadows of deep magenta and purple and orange across the water, shimmering across the small ripples in the water. Feeling the cool sand beneath her toes, Aelin tilts her head back, closes her eyes, and grins.

She breathes in the salty sea air, especially pungent with the evening tide, but her moment of calm is disrupted by a large wave, which knocks against the back of her thighs, breaking all over her skirt, drenching her up to her waist.

Her eyes shoot open as she squeals loudly, and her peals of laughter float across the beach as Rowan continues taking pictures from the dry safety behind his camera.

Aelin runs out of the water and drops her dress skirt to the ground. It’s completely soaked.

Rowan finally lowers his camera, and she can see him biting his lip in an attempt to hold back his laughter.

“Shut up.” Aelin pouts as a cool breeze whips through the air, whirling around her and making her skin prickle with goosebumps.

“Come here,” he says with a soft smirk, and she happily obeys.

Rowan rubs his hands up and down her bare shoulders, trying fruitlessly to warm her as the sun completely descends behind the horizon. As she tries to wring the water out of her dress, Aelin shivers. Searching for more heat, she tries to pull herself closer to Rowan, but he takes a large step back.

“You’re dripping everywhere,” he laughs, and Aelin winks.

“You didn’t seem to mind that last night.”

Rowan’s cheeks redden, and Aelin cackles, loving how easily she can fluster him, just with the mention of sex.

He stares at her, and she watches as his bright eyes darken as she takes a large step toward him. He steps back again.

“Aelin, no…” he warns.

“Aelin, yes,” she decrees as she leaps into his arms, pressing her wet body against his as she attacks his face with kisses. He laughs against her lips, and she tightens her grip around his neck, pulling him as close as he can get to her.

“You’re evil,” he mumbles between kisses, and Aelin thinks he’s far too coherent if he’s able to reply so easily.

She squeezes her legs around his waist and drags her mouth to his ear. She scrapes her teeth down his strong jaw and lets her tongue snake out and taste his skin. Aelin’s efforts are rewarded with a pained groan and the feeling of Rowan’s fingers sliding through her hair and caressing the nape of her neck.

She reaches back for his lips and she hums happily as he lets her deepen their kiss. After she’s sated, she slows and pulls her face back to catch her breath. She smiles and kisses his lips softly.

Rowan smiles back, and as she looks into his eyes, she sees the depths of emotion that truly terrify her. Her box of emotions threatens to open and spill everywhere, and she can’t have that. She closes her eyes and kisses him one last time before sliding down onto the cold sand, awash in guilt. And not just for dampening his clothes with ocean water.

“Should I sneak into your room and grab you something dry to wear?” he asks, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “You’re freezing.”

Aelin lifts her nose as the faint traces of cigar smoke waft through the air. She would know that smell anywhere. It smells like summer nights on her back patio with her dad. Her stomach clenches.

“No,” she whispers. “Let’s just go.” She bolsters herself by plastering a cocky smile across her face and squeezing Rowan’s hand. “You can warm me up when we get home.”

“But that means you’ll be getting wet all over again,” Rowan deadpans, and Aelin’s feet stop moving in shock.

“Rowan Whitethorn,” she says, eyes wide. “Did you just make a dirty joke?”

His cheeks flame with a dark blush, and she drags him back to his truck quickly, so he can follow through on his promise.  

He does, and then some, and Aelin wakes up the next morning sore and satisfied.

She stretches out and frowns at the cold spot next to her where Rowan should be. He’s up early today. She hears voices murmuring outside in the living room and decides to get dressed and join them. She’s stepping into her shorts when she hears Manon’s sharp voice ask, “And what about our no live-in girlfriend rule?”

Aelin moves closer to the closed door and listens as shame rises within her. She knew she’d overstayed her welcome.

“It doesn’t count if she’s not my girlfriend,” Rowan quips back, and Aelin bites her lip, worrying the skin there. She can hear the anger in his biting tone, and it unnerves her.

“Oh please, you gave her apartment keys, Rowan.” Manon says with an undignified snort.

“So she doesn’t feel like a prisoner, trapped with nowhere to go!”

“Come on, dude,” Manon drawls. “If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck…”

“We’re not ducks,” Rowan insists, and Aelin almost laughs with Manon at his reply.

“You are ducks, and also liars,” Manon insists. “Quack, quack, bitch.” A long beat of silence.

“I’ll talk to her,” Rowan says, his former anger turning into resignation. Aelin knows this means she needs to start thinking about where she’s going to go next. She knows Aedion and Lysandra would let her crash, but she’s not sure she’s forgiven Aedion for everything he said about Rowan, either. She definitely can’t stay at Dorian’s; his father gives her the creeps. And with Elide and Lorcan just getting together, she has no intention of being a cockblock to one of her best friends. Maybe it’s finally time to go home.

She remembers the faint smell of cigar and sighs. As if on cue, her phone buzzes with another text from her dad.

Can I take you out to lunch? Anywhere you want. You won’t have to see your mom.

Aelin finally responds.

Okay.

Her dad is ecstatic, and replies back quickly, arranging details to meet at Aelin’s favorite sandwich shop in town. A small little hole in the wall Italian deli called Rinaldi’s.

When Rowan enters his bedroom, he clutches at his hair nervously, and Aelin decides to put him out of his misery quickly. She doesn’t need him to explain why she needs to leave.

“So, I finally texted my dad back,” she says, and Rowan’s eyes widen in surprise. That is not the conversation he was expecting to have.

“Wow. Uh… what prompted that?” he asks, looking at her seriously.

She shrugs. “Maybe being at the house last night. Maybe it’s just time to get over it.” She looks around the room. “I know I’ve been here way too long.”

Rowan looks alarmed. “No, no. I told you you could stay as long as you want, and I meant it.” He pauses and swallows nervously. “I’ve really enjoyed having you here.”

“I’ve enjoyed being here,” she admits, and her heart beats faster at the blinding grin that takes over Rowan’s face. “But, we’ll see how convincing my dad is.”

“Okay,” he says nervously. She kisses him softly and smiles.

“Now go, before you’re late to work.” She grabs him by the collar of his polo and kisses him again, and she loves the way the tips of his ears turn pink – the first tell tale signs of his arousal. She likes leaving him flustered and wanting more. Plus, it’s nearly impossible for her to keep her hands to herself, so it works out nicely.

Aelin lazes around Rowan’s room for the rest of the morning, too scared to run into Manon, who works from home. She finally sneaks out and makes her way to the restaurant. She hopes to get there with time to spare, but when she arrives, Rhoe is already waiting outside, arms crossed nervously.

Aelin resists the urge to hug him, nodding tightly instead. She leads him in and orders her favorite sandwich – prosciutto and provolone with hot peppers and vinegar on a roll. And her dad’s – hot pastrami with swiss and mustard on rye – and then finds a small table near the window.

Rhoe looks tired. If the bags under his eyes are any indication, he hasn’t been sleeping much.

“You look good.” He reaches out a hand across the table and then retracts it, nervously, unsure of what to do.

“You look terrible,” Aelin replies. Her filter must be broken this morning. Rhoe laughs, despite her comment.

“The two loves of my life are fighting,” he says quietly, and Aelin is torn between wanting to scream at him or cry. Either way, she’s about to unleash three weeks worth of feelings she’s been ignoring.

Crying wins out. Moisture stings the corners of her eyes as her eyes fill with tears. She blinks rapidly, trying to keep them in, but a rogue tear drips down her cheek. She swipes at it hastily and breathes deeply, trying to get her emotions back under control. But she can’t. And she suddenly feels very, very small.

“Is that really what mom thinks of me?” Aelin asks, her voice barely a whisper through the thick frog in her throat. “That I’ve been a waste of her time and money?”

“No, Fireheart,” he assures her, finally reaching for her hand across the table. Aelin lets him.

“I’m sorry I don’t like Sam, but he’s not nice, Daddy.” Another tear falls from her eye. And another. Aelin can’t swipe at them fast enough. “He’s so spoiled. And entitled. And…” Her voice breaks. “And I don’t want to be anything like him. But… she likes him, and she hates me.”

“Oh, baby, she doesn’t hate you,” Rhoe insists. “She loves you. So, so much.” He pauses. “She just doesn’t understand why you don’t want the same life she has.” Rhoe sighs. “Believe it or not, this is a fight I’ve had with her many times before. Every time she enrolled you in etiquette classes or ballroom dance lessons or cotillion…” He sighs.

“Aedion was just so eager to fit in,” he continues. “He wanted to follow in the Ashryver footsteps. To join the business. But you have never wanted that.” Rhoe laughs, recalling a memory. “I remember the first time you came home from your etiquette classes. You pulled those little white gloves off your hand and said ‘YUCK’ so loud. You were disgusted by the fact that you had to touch some little boy’s hand.”

Aelin remembers those lessons. The girls stood in a circle on the inside, while the boys stood in a circle on the outside, facing them. They’d learned how to give a proper handshake, and curtsey and bow. She was only nine. She had hated every second of it. The dance lessons were even worse.

“They were sweaty,” Aelin chokes out, and her dad smiles sadly.

“When you started dating Chaol,” he begins again, and Aelin tenses up. She’s not sure she’s ready for the commentary on her five year long failed relationship. “Mom was so excited. Long time friends with the Havillards. In your college class. Destined for business, just like his father. But, you never quite fit with him. And I watched you try and change yourself, contort yourself to be the partner Chaol wanted. And we all saw your light dim.”

Aelin doesn’t bother swiping her tears as her father talks. They run in steady streams down her cheeks and down her chin, dripping onto the table.

“But since you’ve been free of him, you have bloomed again. You have been glowing this entire summer, and I’m sorry your mother hasn’t seen it.” He looks her straight in the eye. “But I do.”

Aelin sniffles loudly. The waiter places their sandwiches in front of them, looking terrified at the scene in front of him, so Aelin waves him off, assuring him she’s fine.

“So, you’re not going to sell me off to the highest bidder just because I don’t know what I want to do with my life yet?” she asks.

“All we want you to do with your life is be happy,” Rhoe says and takes a large bite of his sandwich. “Whatever that means to you.”

“What if what makes me happy doesn’t live up to her expectations?” Aelin fiddles with her napkin.

“We’ll deal with that when we get to that,” Rhoe says, patting Aelin’s hand comfortingly. “So, will you please come back home?” he asks, and Aelin nods.

“On one condition,” she says, and Rhoe clasps his hands, waiting patiently for her to continue. “I want to go on the staff overnight next weekend.” She clears her throat. “Elide has been talking about it for years. That it’s her favorite weekend of the summer, and I’m friends with all of them anyway, and I want to go.”

Rhoe chuckles. “That’s the condition? Not… an apology from your mother?”

Aelin shrugs. “I only want her apology if she means it.”

“Fine,” Rhoe replies. “I’ll have your mom talk to Lorcan about adding you to the list of attendees.” He pauses. “You know there’s a ropes course, right? And hiking?” Aelin nods. “It’s just… you’re not much of an outdoor girl, honey.”

Aelin frowns. Her father’s right, she’s not much for hiking and trust activities, but she doesn’t want to lose a whole weekend with Rowan either. Not with so little of the summer left.

“I’m going.”

He holds up his hands in defeat. “Your condition is accepted.”

The pair finish their sandwiches in relative silence, which is good because Aelin can’t begin to process everything her dad just said to her. She feels somewhat reassured, but she can’t stop hearing her mother’s shrill voice repeating, “You have been a waste of my time and money!” over and over in her head. And she knows without a doubt if she really told her mom what was making her happy this summer, she’d be saying much, much worse.

Her dad is right – she has never wanted to be part of the family business, nor has she wanted to be married off and slip into high society life. And those are the only paths her mom views as viable.

Aelin can’t allow herself the privilege of thinking of other possible paths. Other paths with other people. She has no idea what that life might look like, but she knows it’s not allowed for her. If she even barely contemplates the possibility of that future, she knows she will be crushed when she can’t have it. Her chest tugs, wanting her to open that box, and see what that option holds for her, as dead ended as it might be. But she ignores it.

This is nothing more than a summer fling, she reminds herself. When she gets back to Adarlan, she’ll recalibrate and figure out what her life’s purpose is. But for the next few weeks, she’s sticking with what makes her happy. Here. In Terrasen.

She pulls out her phone and texts Rowan:

My dad was pretty convincing. I’m headed back home tonight.

I’ll leave the window unlocked for you ;)

“Everything alright?” Rhoe asks, wiping the crumbs from his mouth.

“Yup,” Aelin assures him, far too brightly. It is. At least, for now.

~*~*~*~*~

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[stuntgirlatthevampiremansion]

To the Rhythm of the Ocean

Pairing: Jake Kiszka/reader

word count: 2,226

warnings: first person POV, the reader is mentioned to be an artist and bisexual but it is not important to the plot. Other than that its just a fluffy day at the beach. 😊

A/n: at last, I finally wrote a fic. It is extremely self-indulgent and was inspired by some anons that @safari-karrot got that I definitely did NOT send ;). I also want to thank Kate for being my beta! I worked pretty hard on it and im proud of it. Hope you enjoy!

-----------

Walking into the elevator of my apartment complex, I was able to let my shoulders relax and my guard down for the first time all day. The day at the studio was intense today, and for all the wrong reasons. No matter how much I tried, I wasn’t able to create anything, as if all of the motivation and drive to do my work had burned out. I was burnt out. I was lucky enough to score an apartment next door to a pair of twins, Jake and Josh, who quickly became good friends. And even more fortunate, they had come back home this week from recording with their band, which meant I could spend my afternoon with them instead of alone in my own apartment. 

I entered my house and set my bags and work down on the dining table. It was impossible to make out where the table was under pile of unfinished sketches and work plans, but that was a tomorrow problem. I put on the kettle to make some tea and shot Jake a text asking if I could come over. 

  Jake... in the last couple of years that i have known the twins, the have become an indispensable part of my life. We take turns cooking for the three of us and hosting movie nights, an even go do laundry together. Having them away for so long felt like a hole had been carved out of my soul, and it also made my harboring crush on Jake ache deeper and deeper. He was unlike anyone I had ever met, we understood each other in a way I never thought I would have with anyone, yet he was still an enigma. He was insanely talented and driven, and he was smart. And kind. And funny. And extremely easy on the eyes. I would never tell him this though, his friendship is all I can get, and I’ll learn to live with that. 

His text came back telling me that his door was open. I finished and drank my tea, washed my face, changed into more comfortable clothes, and made my way next door. 

When I came into the twins’s apartment Jake was sitting on the sofa playing his guitar, a small notebook sat on his lap. At my entrance, he sent a smile my way, but continued playing. 

“Where is Josh?” 

“He’s out filming. Why, did you need him?” 

“No, just wonderin’.” 

“You know, if you just want to hang out with me to try to get into my brother’s pants, you could have just told me. And I want no part of it. Here I was thinking we were best friends.” He teased and wiped fake tears from his eyes, but his smile said that he was just messing. That did not, however, stop my nerves. Best friend.

“I do not want to get into your brother’s pants, Jake. They wouldn’t fit me.” I took of my boots and plopped on the couch next to him. “I’m your best friend?! What about Josh, Danny and Sam?”

“That’s different, they’re my brothers.”

“Hm... I guess you’re a fine friend too, one could even say the best one I’ve had.” Friend. 

“And the best one you’ll ever have.” He set his guitar down to his other side, “how was the studio today? Any new paintings?“ 

I let out an exasperated sigh “I wish. I am incredible burned out, I can barely even pick up a pencil! I have gotten close to nothing done all week and Rachel keeps asking me out, I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Rachel? What did you say?” If I didn’t know better I would’ve thought I saw pain flash across his face.

“I told her no, but that is besides the point. I’m just so out of it...” 

“You do look like you need some adventure.”

“You could say that” 

“You know what?” He got up from the couch and pulled me to stand with him. “I’ll give it to you. Go get dressed, I’ll get everything ready.” 

  “What? Where are we going?”

“If i tell you it wont be a surprise. Now go to your house and get ready.” 

“Then what do I wear?”

He seemed to think about it for a while, then said “something comfortable, but tropical.” 

“Jake, that tells me absolutely nothing—“

“You’ll figure it out. Now leave, and don’t come back unless you’re on party business.” It was futile to keep going so I just stuck my tongue back at him and walked out of the door and into my apartment. 

I settled on wearing a short blue sundress, boots, and a pair of sunglasses. I walked back into his apartment to find Jake in the shortest shorts i have even seen him wear, an unbuttoned white shirt, and his signature combination of necklaces and a bucket hat. “Are those Sam’s?” 

“No, I own shorts too.” He put down two boxes on the coffee table and looked me over once. “That is exactly what I meant! Now carry this to the car.” He handed me a box full of snacks and drinks and we made our way down to the car. 

I rode shotgun. He still refused to tell where we were headed. No matter how much I pushed and tried to wear him down, he just said to wait and find out. We got busy talking and listening to music and I gave up asking. Instead, I admired the scenery passing around us, and I admired Jake, with the windows down, his hair wild in the wind, and rocking out to our playlist. He had the ability to make me happy by just taking me on a drive. He didn’t even have to try. 

Eventually the buildings turned into trees, and the trees to palm trees, until finally we arrived at a clearing by the ocean. Jake parked the car, “We’re here!”

“You brought me to the beach!” He brought me to the beach! The ocean! The one place I loved most in the world. “I could marry you right now!” I threw my arms around him and jumped out of the car. My boots were off in a second and by the next my feet were already in the water. Jake did the same before joining me at the shore. 

“So, was it a good surprise?” I could hear his smile without even looking at him. And he knew the answer before I even spoke.

“The best! Thank you, Jake. Really.” 

We set on an easy pace through the shore, side by side. Each picking out seashells and skipping rocks on the water. The sun wasn’t unbearable, for it was afternoon. The sky was blue and almost cloudless, the only thing that altered it were the shapes of birds flying overhead. The sand was coarse and stuck to our feet, but it wasn’t burning. The sea... it was an array of the bluest blues one could imagine, all coexisting for our pleasure. Jake was glowing,  and I must have been too, I was incandescently happy. 

Back at the car, I set out our snacks and liquor while Jake put in some music. Halfway through our first meal and first bottle, Jake turned up the radio, and waited for my reaction.

“I love this song!”

“I know you do, thats why I put it.” He took our food and put it away on the roof of the car; and for the second time today, pulled me by the hand to stand. “let’s dance” 

His touch sent electric currents up my back. Best friend. “this song isn’t danceable, Jake!”

“It is if we want it to be.” And he held my hand in his and dragged me towards the clearing. The breeze was calming, the sea was a splendid blue. The waves lapped at the shore, not strong enough to disrupt our song.

Turns out, the song was danceable after all; and so were all the others that came after it. We held each other while we took turns twirling and laughing, belting our lyrics and acting out the drama of the songs. Every lick of his fingers on my skin left a burning sensation, yet I couldn't get enough. If he knew what this was doing to me... If he knew I was drunk on him and falling on every shared glance, every smile, every touch. 

The sun started its descend and our dancing got closer. He held his hands of my waist, my chest pressed against his, my hands on his shoulders as we swayed around our little ballroom of a clearing. My spine tingled, with every inhale, I got drunk in his scent of pine and peppermint.   

We got lost in our dancing, and then he got lost in the horizon. The sky had started to turn all shades of orange and pink, the water glimmered upon our eyes like tiny mirrors. A pelican flew over us and dived into the water in search for dinner. 

We had stopped moving, yet his hands remained placed at the small of my back, he looked at ease. My fingers twirled a strand of his hair, he didn’t mind. 

He looked like he belonged in the landscape, to the oranges and pinks that tinted the sky, he belonged to nature.

And I belonged looking at him, within arms reach yet so unattainable. He would always be a mystery. There was always more to him than met the eye, and even after years of knowing him, I hadn’t deciphered him completely. And I didn’t intend to, he was just like that. And he wasn’t mine to understand like that. 

If all I would get were stolen glances with the setting sun as out witness, I’d take it. Because right here, right now, the sight before me was one to behold. Jakes eyes were transfixed on the horizon, his mouth agape. The sun was finally hiding behind the waves, which mean our day was coming to an end. I tried not to think about it, I wouldn’t let the sun steal the light of this day from me. Ocean breeze ruffled his long hair, and as I saw the last light of day melt into his golden brown eyes, I knew that home wasn’t a place. Home is a person. And he was mine. But he would never know, for I doubted I’d be his. 

I was thrown out of my daydream when he slightly pulled back and chuckled. “ So home is a person, huh?” 

“I— “ I said that out loud. Shit shit shit. I just stared at him like a deer in the headlights. There was no way to dig myself out of this, so I remained silent. Though my hear was beating like a drum and I was certain that he could feel it due to how close he still held on. Best friends don’t say that. 

There was a shit-eating grin on his face, one that said he certainly knew what was going through my head. Instead of taunting me further, he said the words I’d most longed fo hear. 

“Then you are certainly mine” 

Nothing could stop the smile that broke out across both of our faces at that.  “And you mine” 

Before he had time to reply, I grabbed his face and pulled his lips to mine. There was static in the air, his lips were incredibly soft and tasted of coffee and chocolate. His mouth moved with expertise against mine, he held me close. Closer. Closer even still, until there was no space left between us. My heart was pounding, he licked at my bottom lip asking for entrance, which I gave, and deepened the kiss. My hands held on to him tightly, as if he would disappear would I let go. He dipped me slightly and I swore I would fall on the sand if he hadn’t held me. The purple sky could’ve turned bright yellow and I would have paid no attention. 

We pulled apart for air and the sun was completely gone. 

“Jake, I—“

“I know, I feel it too. I have for a while.”

“I was so scared that you wouldn't. Ive felt this way for you for the longest time, I—” 

“But I do!” 

“But you do!”

He pecked my lips and whispered close to my ear “And if you want, we’ll make it official. Right now. You and me, and a million sunsets to come.”

“I’m yours for as long as you want me, Jake.”

“And I’m yours forever, y/n. Even when i’m far away.” 

No words could describe what I felt. It’s as if my blood was replaced by honey and my ribcage contained the moon in all her love and glory.  “I wish I could stay here forever, in this moment. With you, and round the world.”

“Check the trunk.” He smiled too wide and untangled his arms from mine.

I reluctantly let go of him and walked towards the car. He tossed me the keys and I popped the trunk open to see the second box Jake hadn’t let me look into. I opened it and found all sorts of camping gear: One tent, two sleeping bags, toiletries, even pajamas. Jake creeped up behind me and slid his arms around my waist. I turned around with an incredulous grin.

“Is that a tent?!”

“That is a tent, sweetheart.”

The end.

—- A/N: I literally CANNOT write unless its in 1st POV. This is 100% self-indulgent, and I have no idea how to write a kiss. Hope you enjoyed it nonetheless! 

[annoyed-galaxy]

Your Beauty Rivals Even Mine

Okay a bitch is rusty when it comes to writing, but I drew something based off of something I had imagined in my head in a writing format. But of course it took me forever to actually write the thing. Ugh my writing is bad right now, but it's whatever.

I really wanted something about Reaver surprised how Sparrow hasn't really aged that much and how he finds her beautiful despite her sacrifice for him. My headcanon is that the Hero blood stops the process from going as fast it would for normal people.

So anyways, here's this writing along with this drawing. (Yes I will work on my writing cause I know it's ass since I've been focusing on drawing more)

“What?” Sparrow stopped what she was doing and looked at Reaver, crossing her arms. The man had been staring at her for the past five minutes, his eyes squinting multiple times. “Hello?” she snapped her fingers at him.

He blinked and tilted his head to the side. “When was the last time you took a bath?”

Sparrow stared at him in confusion. “Excuse me?”

He walked around the bed and put his hands on her face. He didn’t look at her eyes, but rather at her hair. He went to brush his hand through her hair, but immediately got caught on a tangle. Sparrow cried out and swatted at his hands.

“What the hell?!”

Reaver sighed. “Your hair is a mess. I’m surprised no small critters have taken a liking to it and made it a permanent home.” Sparrow frowned at him. “Ever since we’ve traveled together I haven’t seen you take a single bath.”

“I’ve cleaned myself,” she argued.

“Using lake water does not count. Do you know how many creatures live in lakes that use it as their-”

“Okay shut up,” Sparrow cut him off. “So what if I haven’t properly bathed? My hair is fine leave it alone.”

Reaver grabbed her arm and dragged her to the bathroom. “If we have to share yet another bed, I am not sharing it with someone who refuses to clean themselves.”

Sparrow rolled her eyes. “You’ve done it before, I don’t see the issue.”

“That was before you fell into the sea and was attacked by sirens and such. It smells like salt and seaweed. I could deal with the tangles, but now it needs to be cleaned immediately.” Sparrow glared at Reaver. She wouldn’t have fallen into the ocean if someone hadn’t shot at her. They had just recently come back from that little trip in the ocean and he never complained before.

He walked over to the tub and turned it on. “I’m going to get some things for your hair. You better have soaked in this tub by the time I come back.”

“Why?”

Reaver stopped the water after it filled up and sighed. “Because you need to experience a nice relaxing bath and the satisfaction of your hair being clean and pristine. Like mine,” he added running his fingers through his stupidly over-groomed hair.

“Yes because that’s all I ever want in life is to be anything like you,” Sparrow said sourly.

“Darling, you’ll never be anything like me. But you should at least do the bare minimum and take care of yourself.”

Sparrow stared at him, eyebrow raised. “You do realize who you’re talking to right?”

He rolled his eyes. “Right.” He brisked past her. “Try it, you’ll enjoy it. I’ll be back in a few.” With that, he left the room and Sparrow alone.

She looked at the bath and sighed stepping over to it. Steam rose and brushed against her face. “Ah fuck it, why not.” She undressed and then sunk herself into the tub. She released a shaky breath as the water enveloped her. Then she took a breath and submerged herself. Her muscles relaxed and she could feel all of her aches and pains soothing. Her mind went clear and she just floated in a warm and embracing abyss.

She didn’t know how much time passed, but she felt something disrupt the water that had settled around her and could feel her lungs starting to give out. She broke the surface of the water and took a deep breath. To her right, Reaver pulled his arm back. “For a second I thought you purposely drowning yourself.”

Sparrow rubbed her face and blinked slowly at him. He was holding a couple bottles and a brush. “I was enjoying myself.”

“See? Taking a bath is a good thing,” he snickered. Sparrow didn’t answer but just watched as he grabbed a stool and put it behind her. He grabbed the brush and then pulled Sparrow’s hair back. He started brushing her hair at the tips. The brushing didn’t bother her until he moved up her hair.

“Are you brushing my hair or scalping me?!” Sparrow winced.

“That’s what happens when you don’t brush your hair on a daily basis. Now stop moving.” Sparrow growled and grunted through the brush strokes. By the time Reaver was finished, Sparrow felt like her head was on fire and scalp had been ripped off.

Then she felt Reaver’s hands on her head and start massaging. “Ah...what are you doing?” Sparrow asked.

“Washing your hair with soap.” Sparrow sighed with relief actually enjoying this experience finally. After a couple minutes Reaver removed his hands and stood up. He washed his hands off and the water and then grabbed a bucket that was next to the stool. “Lean forward,” he commanded as dipped the bucket in the bath and then stood behind her.

Sparrow, confusingly, obeyed and leaned forward. She gasped when he dumped the water over her. Luckily it was still warm, but it was just a shock to have the water dumped on her like that. “GAH!”

“Calm down, it’s called rinsing.”

“Obviously!” she hissed as he dumped some more water on her. After all the soap was rinsed out Reaver smiled to himself.

“There, your hair is cleaned and smells so much better. Now get a towel and sit at the dresser,” he said before leaving the bathroom.

Sparrow raised her eyebrow in confusion, but she shrugged and then got out of the tub. She dried herself off and then wrapped the towel around her before leaving as well.

Reaver was by the dresser with a brush in his hand and pointed to the seat in front of the mirror. “Sit.”

Sparrow sat down and let him brush her hair. She watched him in the mirror and was surprised at his intent focus. He was taking real care with brushing strands of her hair. Then she looked at herself. Without her headband, she really didn’t realize how much hair she had. And Reaver was right, it was beautiful. White as the snow that used to cover her and Rose when they were living in the streets. She loved the snow even though she knew it would be a miserable time for them both.

Then Reaver stopped brushing and looked at her in the mirror. He offered a small smile. “Are you finally looking at yourself for the first time?”

She blinked and then looked into her own eyes. She couldn’t remember the last time she saw her reflection. Maybe in passing by shop windows, when she was younger. She knew she had black hair once upon a time. It was shorter and she knew her face was younger. She didn’t have her Will lines back then. Not as vibrant as they were now with their subtle glow.

She didn’t know how much her face had actually changed, but she looked much older than twenty-eight. Her eyes looked sunken in, slight wrinkles underneath, and she looked hollow inside. There was no light in her eyes. When did her hair get so long anyways? It was down to the small of her back. She knew previously it was only shoulder length. Then of course she had shaved her head in the Spire. Did her hair really grow back that fast?

“Do you see what I see?” Reaver’s voice startled her out of her thoughts. Her eyes trailed up to his. He put his hands on her shoulder and arm and leaned next to her. “Despite the sacrifice you made for me, even still...your beauty rivals even mine.”

Sparrow looked at herself again and Reaver. As much as she hated to admit it, Reaver was absolutely beautiful. No wrinkles, clear skin, beautiful hair. Of course all of it was stolen and unnatural. But how did she rival him? She had wrinkles, skin littered with glowing marks, and hair that was unnaturally white. And why would he admit something like that?

“You don’t mean that,” Sparrow whispered.

“I do. You may not see it, but when I look at you, I see a part of myself. Possibly what I would look like if I had aged normally.”

“That’s pretty egotistical if you ask me,” Sparrow rolled her eyes.

“Well of course. I am the most beautiful person alive. But you...You have a certain beauty about you that no one else really understands.” Reaver smiled and pulled her hair back. “It’s curious. How have you retained your age and beauty when others have long perished away.”

Sparrow knew he was talking about her sacrifice for him. “I have aged. I came to Bloodstone with black hair and left with white hair. I have wrinkles under my eyes and I just seem so...lifeless.”

“That’s what you see. I see something completely different,” Reaver continued as he took her headband from the dresser. “This thing needs to be thrown out.”

“No!” Sparrow nearly shouted. “That was my sister’s.”

“Then it needs to at least be washed.” Sparrow nodded. She would accept that. Reaver gave her a small peck on the cheek. “I don’t think we should do anything with your hair. Just keep it down. It’s perfect as it is.”

[twoidiotwriters1]

Written In The Stars CXXXI (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: Right now Val’s fic and mine are screaming ‘Fuck Harry Potter!’ But in entirely different contexts and I love it jsdjsdj -Danny P.S. the Twins’ leaving always makes me cry when I read that.

Words: 4,428

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Listen to: ‘Fine Line’ -by Harry Styles

Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Twins' Farewell.

"Aren't you going to say anything?"

"I need a moment."

"You've been quiet for five minutes."

"Well, I found out my mother used to be a bully," She snapped. "I kind of have a lot to think about!"

Their parents had treated Snape the same way Dudley used to treat her and Harry when they were younger. Not only that, but Harry's mother appeared to hate James with a burning passion. As if that weren't enough, Emily had actively taken part in attacking Snape and threatened Lily with hexing her if she interfered. Harry was holding back information though, and she needed to know what it was.

"What is it?"

"Hmm?" Harry said nervously.

"You have that look on your face. You haven't finished the story.”

"I have."

"Don't lie to me."

She took advantage of his inexperience and forced the memory out.

Mel looked at the fifteen-year-old version of her mother and saw herself reflected on her. She had her eyes, hair (exactly as long as her mother's when she was her age, and it fell in the same elegant fashion). She also had her lovesick gaze, which caused her to realize Emily was head over heels for none other than James Potter.

It was uncomfortable to watch, not only because Matt and Sirius would glance from time to time with a grumpy expression, but also because they were so similar to their parents that it was like looking at a very odd mirror. James was utterly oblivious, he would look at Emily like she was an adorable toddler. 

Emily, on the other side, was a lost cause. James would constantly look back at the group of girls that were hanging out by the lake, where Lily Evans was chatting happily. His eyes would light up the same way Harry's used to. 

Then she had to witness the look of pleased evilness when they attacked Snape, the way Emily pointed her wand at Lily, ready to attack...

She pulled back abruptly.

"I told you not to do it!" Harry groaned, closing his eyes tightly and pressing his palm on his temple.

"I can't believe she never told me!" Mel exclaimed.

"What were you expecting? 'Hey, you know that boy you're friends with? I used to have a crush on his dad!"

"I don't know!" Mel blushed. "I... Sirius told me my mum had the longest crush on this boy before dating my dad... I never thought it'd be James!"

"I never thought my dad was an arrogant twat," Harry said miserably. "I can't believe Snape was telling the truth..."

"What if..." Mel pushed her hair back, and she grimaced at the thought of doing it in the exact same way her mother used to. "What if Snape tricked you into believing he's telling the truth?"

"How?" 

"Well... we can't trust our brains, let alone someone else's! I mean, we treat Malfoy rather badly but we're not bad people, are we? If you were to look at us through his eyes we would look like monsters..."

Harry considered the idea, then shook his head miserably. 

"Snape didn't want me to look at the memory, he'd hidden the Pensieve and I was the one who snooped around."

Mel thought back on all those years uncle Lupin never talked about his relation to his mother, how they said she was too young... They had been right, but Mel was old enough now.

"I think," Mel said, standing up and indicating Harry to do the same. "We deserve an explanation."

"But why haven't you got Occlumency lessons anymore?" 

"I've told you, Snape reckons I can carry on by myself now I've got the basics... He says that if I need help, I can ask Mel," Harry shrugged, avoiding looking up from his parchment.

"Is it true?" Hermione raised her brows in polite surprise.

"Yeah," Mel lied. "We got this under control."

"So you've stopped having funny dreams, Harry?"

"Pretty much," He replied, his face almost completely hidden.

"Well, I don't think Snape should stop until you're absolutely sure you can control them!" Hermione frowned. "Harry, I think you should go back to him and ask —"

"No. Just drop it, Hermione, okay?"

"Are you done with the schedules, 'Mione?" Mel asked, trying to change the subject.

"Why are you making studying schedules, exams are ages away," Ron yawned.

"Exams are only six weeks away, Ron," Hermione sentenced.

"They're what, now?" He straightened up on his chair.

"How can that come as a shock?" 

"I dunno..." said Ron, "there's been a lot going on..."

"Well, there you are," Hermione handed three identical schedules to Harry, Ron and Mel, "if you follow that you should do fine."

"You've given me an evening off every week!" 

"That's for Quidditch practice," said Hermione. 

"Yay," Mel said without excitement. Next game she was playing seeker against none other than Cho Chang, so she was starting to feel nervous.

"What's the point?" Ron pouted. "We've got about as much chance of winning the Quidditch Cup this year as Dad's got of becoming Minister of Magic..."

"All you need to do is stop the Quaffle from entering the bloody goal posts, how hard can that be?" Mel huffed. "I have to find the smallest little thing against a well-trained seeker!"

"You're well-trained," Ron argued. 

"I'm not even close to being at her level—"

"What's wrong, Harry?" Hermione interrupted.

"What?" Harry gave a start. "Nothing..."

He picked up his Defensive Magical Theory book and Grey jumped onto his lap, Harry barely acknowledged him. 

"I saw Cho earlier," Hermione started tentatively, "and she looked really miserable too... Have you two had a row again?"

"Wha — oh yeah, we have," Harry nodded.

"What about?"

"That sneak friend of hers, Marietta," He said.

"Yeah, well, I don't blame you!" said Ron. "If it hadn't been for her..."

The boy went off for several minutes about what an awful girl Marietta was, looking back on it, it was a bit unfair not to warn her about the risks...

Marietta was scared for her family, it was obvious she'd try to do the best for them. People are allowed to change their minds! 

Mel was hoping her parents had done the same, otherwise she would have to live with the fact that they were... not the best of people.

‘CAREER ADVICE

All fifth years will be required to attend a short meeting with their Head of House during the first week of the Summer term, in which they will be given the opportunity to discuss their future careers. Times of individual appointments are listed below...’

The four of them were going through a bunch of pamphlets of different wizarding careers, trying to decide what thing suited them better. Mel was quietly reading the pamphlet on Magizoology when Fred and George sat down between her and Harry.

"Ginny's had a word with us about you," said Fred, putting his legs on the table and kicking pamphlets in the process. "She says you need to talk to Sirius?"

"What?" Hermione spat.

"Yeah..." said Harry, "yeah, I thought I'd like —"

"Don't be so ridiculous," said Hermione. "With Umbridge groping around in the fires and frisking all the owls?" 

"Well, we think we can find a way around that," said George. "It's a simple matter of causing a diversion. Now, you might have noticed that we have been rather quiet on the mayhem front during the Easter holidays?"

"What was the point, we asked ourselves, of disrupting leisure time?" continued Fred. "No point at all, we answered ourselves. And of course, we'd have messed up people's studying too, which would be the very last thing we'd want to do."

Hermione looked at him as if she could not believe him to be so thoughtful. 

"But it's business as usual from tomorrow," Fred continued, putting an arm around Mel casually. "And if we're going to be causing a bit of uproar, why not do it so that Harry and the lady can have their chat with Sirius?"

"I never said I wanted to talk with Sirius," Mel raised a brow, giving her wand a light flicker and making the pamphlets go back to the table neatly.

"But you do though," George replied. "You wouldn't miss the opportunity to check on your mum, would you?"

Mel pondered. "I guess not..."

"Yes, but still," said Hermione, "even if you do cause a diversion, how are Harry and Mel supposed to talk to him?"

"Umbridge's office," Harry replied matter of factly.

"Erick said that's the only floo line that isn't being watched," Mel nodded.

"Are — you — insane?" Hermione asked angrily.

"Yeah, people keep telling me that," She smiled.

"And how are you going to get in there in the first place?"

"Sirius's knife," Harry said.

"Excuse me?"

"Christmas before last Sirius gave me a knife that'll open any lock. So even if she's bewitched the door so Alohomora won't work, which I bet she has —"

"What do you think about this?" Hermione hissed at Ron.

"I dunno," Ron blushed. "If Harry wants to do it, it's up to him, isn't it?"

"Spoken like a true friend and Weasley," said Fred. "Right, then. We're thinking of doing it tomorrow, just after lessons, because it should cause maximum impact if everybody's in the corridors — We'll set it off in the east wing somewhere, draw her right away from her own office — I reckon we should be able to guarantee you, what, twenty minutes?"

"Easy," George nodded.

"What sort of diversion is it?" Ron frowned.

"You'll see, little bro," said Fred, getting up at the same time as his twin. "At least, you will if you trot along to Gregory the Smarmy's corridor round about five o'clock tomorrow." 

"Okay then," Mel sighed. "We'll do it."

"Hey," Harry whispered once everyone was back in their business. "Don't you get uncomfortable with the way Fred treats you?"

"Huh?" She blushed. "Oh! I don't even notice, you know? Yeah, no big deal..."

She hid her face behind the pamphlet, fearful that Harry would insist on asking questions.

"I'm sorry," McGonagall blinked. "Could you repeat that?"

"I'd like to pursue the careers of Auror, Magizoologist," She smiled, "and Unspeakable."

Umbridge (who had been supervising the interviews that day) let out the faintest little chuckled, but they ignored it.

"Miss Dumbledore, are you aware of the work—"

"Yes. I require a minimum of five N.E.W.T.s and nothing under 'Exceeds Expectations' for the Auror position. They ask for a character and aptitude test as well. I'm aware that they haven't taken any new blood for the last three years, but fortunately, that's the same time I have to finish my studies, so maybe by then, they'll have a spot — As for my character and aptitude test, well, I'll work on that. Moving onto Magizoology: I need to pass Care of magical creatures, Defense against the dark arts, Potions, Herbology and Charms. My weak spot is Herbology, but I'm sure I can catch up. As for the Unspeakable position, well, it's all of the above."

She knew it was ambitious, but Dumbledore had told her she could achieve it with hard work and the proper schedule, and she wanted to believe he was right.

"For two of those you'll need to have a respect for authority," McGonagall stared at her. "Something which I've noticed doesn't come easily for you."

"It's not that I don't respect authority," Mel replied. "I respect you and the other teachers, I respect most of the Aurors I've met, I respect my mother... I just have zero patience with idiots."

"You'll have to accept that some people will know better than you, even if you find them idiotic."

"Well, I respect Snape don't I? I have a solid 'Outstanding' in his class."

She might have been wrong, but she saw the faintest hint of a smile on the woman's face.

"Very well, Miss Dumbledore," She drew out a parchment from Mel's folder and started to write down subjects. "I won't deny it'll be a long time before you get everything you want, but I've seen your abilities and I trust you'll get there—"

"Excuse me," Umbridge spoke. "It's blatantly clear that a Dumbledore, one that's proven to be mentally unstable, has no place in the Ministry."

"Good thing the Unspeakables aren't obliged to respond to the Minister, then," McGonagall replied with disinterest.

"What?" asked Mel and Umbridge.

"Miss Dumbledore, I thought you'd done your research," McGonagall then did show a polite smile. "The Department of Mysteries is a closed ward, they don't talk about their work outside office hours and most certainly they don't talk about it with people who do not belong in their area."

"No one is above the Minister," Umbridge replied with outrage.

"You're quite right about that," McGonagall finished whatever she was writing and folded it. "The Unspeakables work in the basement. You're free to go, Miss Dumbledore."

Mel took the parchment McGonagall was offering to her, but the professor held onto it for a moment.

"Best of lucks," She said, gazing up at Mel through her glasses.

As she slowly made her way to Divination, Fred ran into her, looking more energized than ever.

"All right, Lady?" He smiled.

"Yeah," She said brightly. "McGonagall just approved my future careers, she says I have a good chance to do them all!"

"Nice! Are you ready for what's coming?"

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" She asked. 

Fred had told her this was it for him and George, they wouldn't stay to get detention or being officially expelled. They were planning to run away, and Mel was dead worried.

"I'm brilliant," He smiled. "Everything's okay. Especially between us — I promised, didn't I? I'm keeping my word, and I promise to write as soon as I'm safe —"

"No!" Mel said. "Umbridge goes through our mail..."

"Don't worry, just leave it to us."

He started to walk away and Mel did too.

"Mel?" The boy called right before she left the hall, the girl stopped and turned to look at him. "Don't waste your chances."

Harry and Mel made their way to Umbridge's office as soon as they heard explosions at the far end of the school. They crouched in front of the fireplace and threw floo powder in the centre, the flames surrounded their heads.

"Number twelve, Grimmauld Place!" Harry said out loud. 

She closed her eyes until the feeling of being pulled forward came to a stop.

"Sirius?" Harry asked.

However, when Mel opened her eyes she saw her uncle.

"Mel! Harry! What are you — what's happened, is everything all right?"

"Yeah, I just wondered — I mean, I just fancied a — a chat with Sirius."

"I just want to know how my mum's doing," Mel replied clumsily.

"I'll call them," said Lupin. "He went upstairs to look for Kreacher, he seems to be hiding in the attic again. Emily's having a nap, she takes lots of those lately..."

"Is this really a good idea?" Mel asked the boy next to her.

"We're already here..."

Lupin returned with a short-haired Sirius (apparently he'd given in to Emily's desires) and Mel's mum, who was now six months into her pregnancy.

"What is it?" Sirius and Remus knelt, leaving Emily on a chair facing them so she could look at the kids. "Are you all right? Do you need help?"

"No, it's nothing like that... I just wanted to talk... about my dad..." Harry started. "About something I saw in one of Snape's memories."

Lupin and Sirius exchanged a look of surprise, Emily's frown deepened. When Harry finished his story, Lupin was the first to speak.

"I wouldn't like you to judge your parents on what you saw there. They were only fifteen —"

"We're fifteen!" 

"Look, Harry," said Sirius, "James and Snape hated each other from the moment they set eyes on each other, it was just one of those things, you can understand that, can't you? I think James was everything Snape wanted to be — he was popular, he was good at Quidditch, good at pretty much everything. And Snape was just this little oddball who was up to his eyes in the Dark Arts and James — whatever else he may have appeared to you, Harry — always hated the Dark Arts."

"Yeah, but he just attacked Snape for no good reason, just because — well, just because you said you were bored." 

"And Mum helped him," Mel said, pouting. "You threatened to hurt Lily if she tried to help Snape!"

"I'm not proud of it," said Sirius.

"Neither am I," Emily stated. "As you've heard countless times before, I want you to grow having better morals than the ones I had when I was your age. I can't erase what I did, but I've learned to live with it."

"What you've got to understand is that your fathers and Sirius were the best in the school at whatever they did — everyone thought they were the height of cool — if they sometimes got a bit carried away —"

"If we were sometimes arrogant little berks, you mean," said Sirius. "Matthew was the only one who knew how to keep his feet on the ground. He was a flirt, yes, but he was never a total prat."

"He kept messing up his hair," Harry said quietly, referring to James.

"I'd forgotten he used to do that," said Sirius, laughing.

"Was he playing with the Snitch?" asked Remus.

"Yeah," said Harry. 

Mel felt tempted to mention her mother's crush; but what was the point, really? It'd been years since that, and in the end, Emily had stopped liking him, it was long over. Bringing that up would only make things awkward, and Mel knew there was no use in reliving things of the past.

"Well..." Harry started, "I thought he was a bit of an idiot." 

"So that's where you got it from, then?" Mel teased.

"Of course he was a bit of an idiot!" said Sirius. "We were all idiots! Well — Ruddy and Moony not so much..."

"Did I ever tell you to lay off Snape? Did I ever have the guts to tell you I thought you were out of order?" Lupin grimaced.

"Yeah, well, you made us feel ashamed of ourselves sometimes... That was something..."

"Matthew wasn't afraid to be brutally honest, though. He would say the truth no matter what," Emily tilted her head. "Perhaps that's what made me liked him. I had an awful temper and he would always stop me from doing stupid things."

"That explains your temper," The boy whispered to Mel teasingly as well. "Oh! And... he kept looking over at the girls by the lake, hoping they were watching him!"

"Oh, well, he always made a fool of himself whenever Lily was around," said Sirius. "He couldn't stop himself showing off whenever he got near her."

"How come she married him? She hated him!"

"Nah, she didn't," Sirius smirked.

"She started going out with him in seventh year," Lupin explained. 

"Once James had deflated his head a bit," said Sirius.

"And stopped hexing people just for the fun of it," said Lupin. 

"Even Snape?" 

"Well, Snape was a special case. I mean, he never lost an opportunity to curse James, so you couldn't really expect James to take that lying down, could you?"

"And my mum was okay with that?"

"She didn't know too much about it, to tell you the truth. I mean, James didn't take Snape on dates with her and jinx him in front of her, did he?"

"I was already friends with Lily by the end of our fifth year," Emily said, "actually, right after that day when we finished our O.W.L.'s we had a talk... yeah, I reckon that's when we decided to call a truce. I made sure she never got anywhere near Snape after that day, for her own sake, really. Snape was always awful to her."

"Look," Sirius said, "your father was the best friend I ever had, and he was a good person. A lot of people are idiots at the age of fifteen. He grew out of it. So did Emily, but they never did anything that could be considered a crime."

"Yeah, okay... I just never thought I'd feel sorry for Snape."

"Now you mention it," said Lupin, "how did Snape react when he found you'd seen all this?"

"He told me he'd never teach me Occlumency again," Harry shrugged, "like that's a big disappoint — Ouch!"

Mel had pinched his arm to stop him from talking, but it was too late.

"He WHAT?" Sirius yelled.

"Are you serious, Harry?" said Lupin. "He's stopped giving you lessons?" 

"Yeah— But it's okay, I don't care, it's a bit of a relief to tell you the truth, and Mel said she can teach —" 

"I'm coming up there to have a word with Snape!" said Sirius, trying to step into the fire but stopping when Lupin grabbed his arm.

"If anyone's going to tell Snape it will be me!" Lupin said firmly. "Emily needs you here. But Harry, first of all, you're to go back to Snape and tell him that on no account is he to stop giving you lessons — when Dumbledore hears —" 

"I can't tell him that, he'd kill me! You didn't see him when we got out of the Pensieve —"

"Harry, there is nothing so important as you learning Occlumency! Do you understand me? Nothing!" 

"It's true, kid," Emily said, a look of sympathy on her face. "We need you safe."

"Okay, okay," Harry responded. "I'll... I'll try and say something to him... But it won't be..."

Mel raised a hand to quiet him down, they both heard footsteps.

"Is that Kreacher coming downstairs?"

"No," said Sirius, looking over his shoulder. "It must be somebody your end..."

"We'd better go!" 

"Thank you for the talk!" Mel said quickly. "See you!"

They both pulled back from the flames, falling on their butts.

"Quickly, quickly!" Filch wheezed outside the room. "Ah, she's left it open..."

Harry pulled her close abruptly and Mel put the cloak above their heads just in time. Filch rushed over to the desk without paying attention to his surroundings.

"Approval for Whipping... Approval for Whipping... I can do it at last... They've had it coming to them for years..." He ran out holding a piece of parchment.

Harry and Mel left the room in a hurry, one floor down they took off the cloak and followed the noises. They ran to the marble staircase and found the entire school there.

It was just like the night when Trelawney had been sacked. Students were standing all around the walls in a great ring (some of them, Harry noticed, covered in a substance that looked very like Stinksap); teachers and ghosts were also in the crowd. 

Prominent among the onlookers were members of the Inquisitorial Squad, who were all looking exceptionally pleased with themselves, and Peeves, who was bobbing overhead, gazed down upon Fred and George, who stood in the middle of the floor with the unmistakable look of two people who had just been cornered.

"No..." Mel tried to enter the crowd but someone held her arm before she could get in.

"Wouldn't do that if I were you," Erick whispered. "Let them handle it. They're about to leave anyway."

"How do you know?" Mel asked in surprise.

"I helped them buy half of the things they needed for this. Umbridge doesn't check my mail."

"So!" The woman exclaimed. "So... you think it amusing to turn a school corridor into a swamp, do you?"

"Pretty amusing, yeah," said Fred unbothered.

"I've got the form, Headmistress," Filch exclaimed in joy. "I've got the form and I've got the whips waiting... Oh, let me do it now..."

"Very good, Argus. You two are about to learn what happens to wrongdoers in my school."

"You know what? I don't think we are. George," He turned to his twin. "I think we've outgrown full-time education." 

"Yeah, I've been feeling that way myself," The boy responded. 

"Time to test our talents in the real world, d'you reckon?"

"Definitely."

"Accio Brooms!" They yelled in unison.

Harry heard a loud crash somewhere in the distance. Looking to his left he ducked just in time — Fred and George's broomsticks, one still trailing the heavy chain and iron peg with which Umbridge had fastened them to the wall, were hurtling along the corridor toward their owners. They turned left, streaked down the stairs, and stopped sharply in front of the twins, the chain clattering loudly on the flagged stone floor.

"We won't be seeing you," Fred told Professor Umbridge, swinging his leg over his broomstick.

"Yeah, don't bother to keep in touch," said George, mounting his own.

Fred looked around at the assembled students, and at the silent, watchful crowd.

"If anyone fancies buying a Portable Swamp, as demonstrated upstairs, come to number ninety-three, Diagon Alley — Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes," he said in a loud voice. "Our new premises!"

"Special discounts to Hogwarts students who swear they're going to use our products to get rid of this old bat," added George, pointing at Professor Umbridge.

"STOP THEM!" shrieked Umbridge, but it was too late. As the Inquisitorial Squad closed in, Fred and George kicked off from the floor, shooting fifteen feet into the air, the iron peg swinging dangerously below. Fred looked across the hall at the poltergeist bobbing on his level above the crowd.

"Give her hell from us, Peeves."

And Peeves, whom Harry had never seen take an order from a student before, swept his belled hat from his head and sprang to a salute as Fred and George wheeled about to tumultuous applause from the students below and sped out of the open front doors into the glorious sunset. 

Mel clapped along with her classmates, she'd promised not to cry over silly boys, but this was a different kind of crying. No more afternoons with Fred and George around to make her laugh, to tease her about her height or her temper. It hurt, but she also felt proud to call them friends.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked. 

"I don't know."

"You'll be okay," He assured her. "I'm sorry Fred and you broke up, though."

"You and Fred broke up?" Erick asked in a strange voice.

"Have you been living under a rock?" Harry grinned.

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere @t-rexs-world​ @just-here-to-escape-from-reality​ @21bruhs @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @dielgonacoffee

[introloves]

Moments of Love.

A collection of hybrid Yoongi drabbles.

Drabble no. 3

1 2 

Pairing: Hybrid! Yoongi x Reader (Ft. Best Friend Hybrid! JK.)

Word Count: 2k

Genre: fluff, just straight fluff

Warnings: a little bit of miscommunication, mentions of prejudices against hybrids, mention of self hatred

Summary: You hadn’t gone on a date in years, due to your insecurities and workload and now you felt comfortable with staying lonely, your best and childhood friend Jeongguk however, tries his hand at being a matchmaker. 

The newborn breeze of coming fall nipped at your nose, in attempt to shield yourself from the chilling air you brought your sweater closer to you. Your shoes crunching along the pavement, your anxiety rising to a ten as you checked the time once more. You were supposed to be at the café twenty minutes ago (twenty five was standard to be polite) for your date but thanks to your coworker having to go home early, you had to stay and close up shop by yourself.

You could feel your face burn hot at the thought, this was your first date in… a long time. School and work were the only constant in your life and had been for a while, romance and any attempt to woo anyone was pretty much the last thing on your mind. Well, that and your insecurities... but it was easier to blame it on your work load.

Your friend Jeongguk however, decided that he was going to play matchmaker after a miserable night you had. You had cried into his chest while you told him that you found yourself utterly unloveable and that the person you saw in the mirror was nothing but an ugly amalgamation of everything you hated. The day after, he proudly proclaimed that you had a date with one of his older friends. He thought you two would make perfect company, you apparently had already met him multiple times, but it was hard to recall, anytime you hung out with him and his friends it was hard to keep track of the six other individuals that were always in his orbit. He proudly boasted about how it was a genius idea, his excitement was always infectious and since you knew you were in good hands with him you agreed to, it was time for a change in your life.

Jeongguk knew in his heart that this was probably his most brilliant idea. Both your personalities would mix well, and maybe just maybe, the offhanded comment about your nice smile that Yoongi had once made after seeing a picture of the two of you together had been a big factor in this set up. Jeongguk then told you about his friend, a producer from what you could recall, and this immediately piqued your interest. You were studying music and it was basically your lifeline, finding someone with your shared interest would be fun. Even if nothing romantic spawned from this outing, it was always good to make friends, and you desperately needed some. Jeongguk didn’t count, he was practically family anyways. So you decided to trust him and he planned everything for this ‘blind’ date with vigor.

You neared the coffee shop, it was small and cozy. Bulbs of lights shinning softly against the sunset, the small breeze now picking up strength. The scent of caffeine did nothing but heighten the nausea you were experiencing thanks to your nervousness...

You could back out, you thought to yourself. You could make up some excuse, you were already this late. But you decided to take the leap of faith and follow through with this. Giving yourself a mini pep talk, you whipped your shaky and sweaty hands against your jeans and tugged the door open.

The shop was close to empty, there was only a couple sitting to the corner of the store, settled comfortably against each other and one more person sitting with their back faced to you. A fuzzy, bright blue beanie adorning their head. He was dressed in jeans and a black and white stripped top. Seeing no one else who could be this elusive friend you walked towards him. You tentatively made your way to them, hoping this was actually Jeongguk’s friend.

“Y-Yoongi, uh Min Yoongi?” You questioned, hands fiddling with the hem of your sweater as you stood there.

The man with the beanie turned to look at you and your heart all but stopped beating. He was beautiful, the soft light of the café complimented his shiny skin, his eyes even softer with the atmosphere the glowing lights casting a warm hue to his eyes, a pretty shade of pink tinged his lips that were currently pursed, you gulped as you looked upon his beauty.

As he looked at you, he wasn’t faring any better. The cold tinged your cheeks and nose, he sighed in relief at the sight of you, dread and embarrassment was chewing at him at the thought of you standing him up. From the few times he had seen you around Jeongguk, he remembered your sweet smile and soft eyes. He had told him about your eyes and how cutely they twinkled when you laughed which made Yoongi all that excited to meet you formerly.

When Jeon offered to set a date with you, the cartwheels his heart was doing was a testament to how much he was looking forward to this. He had arrived ten minutes early, making sure to grab a good spot for the both of you, but as time went on and five minutes turned into almost half an hour, Yoongi had all but given up. He was kicking himself in the ass for not grabbing your phone number from his classmate. But now that you were in-front of him and his beating heart was pounding against his rib cage he really thought you looked much more beautiful up close and not stuck to Jeongguk’s side, you and him were almost always glued to each other, his bigger frame always dwarfing yours. For a bunny hybrid Jeon was surprisingly built like a tank, Yoongi had always teased him, asking him if he was sure he was a regular lop eared bunny and not from the giant lop lineage. He thought he would ease up on the teasing after seeing you nervously wring your hands and he thought it was the cutest thing ever.

“Hm, you must be Y/N.” He smiled, the corner of his lips curled ever so slightly. He looked tired, a drowsiness that was almost tangible clung to him, you wanted to die at the fact that he had waited for you here for so long. He stood up, his height shocking you, with a face as doll-like as his, the way he towered over you brought a hot chill to creep all over your face and neck this time.

You bowed immediately as he reached his full height, your eyes looking down at your shoes. He was nothing short of the most pretty man you had ever seen, but his eyes held an intense and predatory gaze. You had only encountered this aura from hybrids, especially from the feline lineage.

“I’m so sorry. I had to close up by myself, a coworker got sick and she had to leave early. I really tried getting here on time but I got lost along the way and-“ his chuckle disrupted your rant.

“Hey it’s fine, I’m glad you showed up.” His voice was like pure honey and you noticed he had a small purr to it.

He tilted his head down as a greeting, the large beanie that was placed on top of his head twitched, your eyebrows furrowed as you caught sight of the movement, the action was quick before you met his eyes again. His sharp eyes caught the look of confusion however and he guarded himself. Of course Jeongguk would forget to include a rather crucial thing about him to you.

While Hybrids weren’t all that different from those who weren’t the prejudice around them was still there. Just like anything different, some accepted them for who they were, and some didn’t.

“Ah, the kid forgot to tell you huh.” He laughed dryly. He didn’t want to be an asshole, but with past experiences, just because someone looked kind and soft on the outside, didn’t mean it stopped them from being horrible people. You looked up at him, confusion still present.

“Tell me what?” You asked, he simply grabbed the beanie he was wearing and tugged it off. His fluffy hair beautiful and black and tumbled down to his forehead. Sitting atop his head were two equally inky ears, very similar to those of a domestic cat. You then also realized that the top he was wearing was oversized, presumably to hide a tail that accompanied his beautiful ears.

“Oh.” You said. You being the painfully awkward person you were didn’t know how to progress beyond this or how to pick up on the fact that Yoongi looked extremely uncomfortable so you just looked up at him, quite dumbstruck. Now noticing the very obvious feline features he had.

“Yeah, oh.” He stated, just waiting for you to walk out of the café, but as you stared on at him with a small smile and big round eyes he figured that he had misread the situation.

A beat of silence passed until he finally sighed out,

“I’m getting the feeling that you’re okay with me being a hybrid.”

“Well yeah of course I am, am I not supposed to be?” You asked, now grabbing a chair to sit directly across from where he was sat, you were also tired from your shift after all.

Yoongi felt quite dumb at that moment, something he didn’t feel quite often. He always prided himself on being a self proclaimed genius and of course he could back up said claims but the fact that he couldn’t quite read you stunned him.

“No it’s not that it’s just that… well never mind.” He sat down as well, looking at you with a soft smile on his face. You both settled down and you once again began nervously playing with the hem of your sweater, using it to keep yourself preoccupied and so you wouldn’t openly drool at the beautiful hybrid sitting directly across from you. You laughed a bit at his reaction to you having none to his “reveal”.

“Yoongi, Jeongguk’s a hybrid isn’t he?” You questioned, of course this situation could take a turn, you knew he was being guarded due to the abuse hybrids often experienced but that’s not who you were.

“Yeah he is.” Your fingers bravely took a hold of the little pamphlet with the drinks they offered and began looking for the tea section. He simply looked on at you.

“We grew up together, his parents adopted me when I was little. His parents… two hybrids raised me. I know that doesn’t mean I can’t be a disgusting person... but that’s not who I am.” You simply stated, wanting him to know you didn’t pose any malice.

He seemed to visibly relax at your words, the iciness between the two of you slowly melting. He didn’t know how else to react but decided that two words were sufficient in how he felt,

“Thank you.” He whispered and you just smiled.

“It’s starting to get colder isn’t it.” Yoongi spoke, his hand coming up to scratch at his ears, after being tucked into his beanie all day it felt nice to have them out in the open.

“Yeah it is, the colder weather’s my favorite. I cant wait for shorter days-” You said, taking a look from the menu to the cup of coffee he had been drinking before you got there. It was already down halfway and you still felt super guilty for making him wait that long.

“I can buy you another one.” You offered, motioning down at his drink, “for making you wait.” You added sheepishly. Yoongi was a sucker for coffee and he certainly wasn’t going to decline an offer from someone as pretty as you.

The rest of the date was spent talking about each others interests and career choices, you had learned that he was producing his own music and that he had already built quite a following and connections with artists, you sat there completely in awe as he spoke about his music. He was trying to make it big in the industry and he was dead set on being the biggest producer in Korea. You hadn’t listened to any of his tracks, but the way he talked about music you knew he was in love with the art, you knew he would make it big.

The both of you were surprised with how easily you talked to one another, the conversation was never stagnant nor awkward.

Towards the end, you began yawning more and more and while you both didn’t want to end the date you knew that you had to go back into the normal world once again. But it was easy once you two realized that this wasn’t going to be the last date. And after a swapping of phone numbers, a hug that had you dizzy and two Uber’s later, you and Yoongi were both recollecting the date with hot cheeks and a smile on your faces.

That night as you fell asleep, you couldn’t help but feeling more loved than you had in a long, long time. His smile playing over and over again in your mind. He had looked at you like he thought you were the most beautiful person in the world, his eyes never left yours... even as you spoke with a small stutter and sweaty palms. He looked intrigued by you, and you felt safe with him, whatever imperfections you thought you had didnt matter, they weren’t at the forefront of your mind, he was.

You sent him a goodnight text, signaling that you would be more than open to having another date with him, you were the most brave in that moment than you had been in a while, the thought of seeing him again helped you as your thumb hovered over the ‘send’ button for a second. And before you completely knocked out, you sent a thank you text to Jeongguk.

Yoongi still couldn’t calm his racing heart, the way you looked at him while he was shyly talking about his music engraved into his eyelids. His already trembling heart once again jumped as his phone screen lit up, seeing you send him a goodnight message and knowing you were willing to go on another date with him put a smile so big it hurt on his face. He typed out, ‘I’ll be counting down the minutes till I see you again doll x” and called it a night. He knew you had stolen his whole heart and he was willing to give it to you on a silver platter.