#I’m at least happy that I had time to finish it before Pride Month was over

[catihere]

Happy (extremely late) Pride Month from the Titan Army demigods!

After much insistence, Luke brought his soldiers subordinates children to Pride. They deserve a day off every once in a while, right? I hope y’all enjoy my little art piece :D

[littlejuicebox]

GINAAA MY GIRL!

Sending you a dadstarion prompt because you already know I LOVEEE your dadstarion content.

How did Tav find out she was pregnant with baby Gale? And how did Astarion react to the news?! Inquiring minds want to know.

To have and to hold.

Such a lovely prompt, my friend! Hope you like it!

Summary: Astarion turned mortal a few months ago, and this is his first-time experiencing illness of any kind. Unfortunately, as soon as he recovers, you start to show signs of sickness as well. Your condition is a bit different from his, though. (For more of this series check out the ‘Dadstarion’ section of my master list.)

Tags/Warnings: Dadstarion, domestic af, fluff, talk of illness, talk of vomiting, the mildest of angst with the mostest of comfort, pregnancy, etc.

A/N: I work in healthcare, not law, so I can’t guarantee the legalese is accurate lol.

Word count: 2.3K

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“Don’t come closer, darling, I’m disgusting.” Astarion groans from where you find him one morning, curled up on the bathroom floor.

It had been a few months since Gale of Waterdeep cast Wish, and from that moment until now the retired rogue had been a happy, healthy mortal. There were so many benefits to curing his vampirism that the elf never fully considered one of the major downsides… illness.

He’d never experienced a malady like this in his life. At least not in the one he could remember.

It’s horrible.

How had his little love or any of his friends endured this, more than once, in the past ten years?

Astarion is quite certain he contracted food poisoning from that questionable slab of salmon he ate at the Blushing Mermaid yesterday evening. He never did understand why you liked eating at that lowbrow tavern in the first place.

You crouch to examine your husband, pressing a soothing hand onto his forehead before running it down to cup his cheek.

“Astarion, my love, you have a fever.” You murmur, frowning with concern as you push sweaty curls from his face.

“Please make more obvious observations, dear,” Astarion gripes as he forces himself to sit up, still clutching his stomach. Gods, the vile churning in his gut is incessant.

He’s about to continue on with his quip, but the sudden urge to be sick forces the elf to shut up and scramble to the toilet. You hear the sounds of violent retching moments later.

“We are never going back to the Blushing Mermaid,” Astarion grumbles once the wave of illness subsides. His face is pressed against the toilet; all sense of decorum is gone. The rotten fish poisoning his insides won over any bits of pride he might have been clinging to.

You move to grab a wash rag, dampening it under the tap before kneeling back down by your husband.

“Poor thing,” You coo, folding the cloth in half before dabbing it against the back of Astarion’s neck, hoping to ease the fever.

The elf’s eyes flutter closed as he allows you to fawn over him for a moment. And then he groans and flicks his hand, palm faced downward, as if trying to shoo you away. His voice is hoarse when he says, “Just leave me here and go get ready for your meeting, darling. I’ll be fine.”

“In sickness and in health, remember?” You ask, running the cool cloth over Astarion’s face, causing him to sigh thankfully at the slight relief, “I’ll send word to the other Counsellors to inform them that I won’t be attending. You’ve never been ill before; I don’t want to leave you like this. Wyll can fill me in later.”

“Yes, ‘in sickness and in health’ and all that, darling, but those vows also included ‘until death do us part’ and I was an immortal vampire when we made them. So you were technically entering that verbal contract under false pretenses, which one could argue means it’s null and void. Go to the meeting, it’s—“

Astarion almost manages to finish his rambling legalese before more putrid liquid spews out of his mouth. When he’s finished vomiting, he whines again, any bit of stubborn resilience and feeble attempts at selflessness abandoned.

“On second thought, maybe you should stay here,” He says, his chest heaving with exertion as he clenches his eyes shut, “Please tell me you have a spell for this.”

“Unfortunately not, my love. I only have a spell for curses. Best I can do is half a bottle of Elixir of Health, some ginger-peppermint tea, and a bath.” You sigh, already crossing the bathroom on your way to the tub. You fiddle with the taps for a moment to start the bath and then begin to pour oils into the flowing water.

“Deal,” Your husband mutters, peeling off his sweat-soaked night shirt, “But none of that vile honey you got at the market here in town for my tea; I want the one Shadowheart and Lae’zel sent from Neverwinter.”

“Anything you say, Lord Ancunin.” You joke, rolling your eyes at your husband’s fussiness. He’d barely regained his sense of taste a few months ago and already favored upscale ingredients and meals, as if mortal food hadn’t been but ash in his mouth for two hundred years.

The elf glares at your insolence but doesn’t retort; he’s too busy trying to keep himself from vomiting again.

*

The following morning, Astarion wakes feeling much better. Practically brand new, in fact. It seems the potion and your strange flower child medicine must have done the trick. He sighs a breath of relief and then rolls to snuggle against you for a few more precious moments. He reaches his arms out and grasps at nothing but air.

The silver-haired elf immediately frowns and sits up. That’s exceptionally odd. You were not a morning person; you never had been in the ten years he’d known you. You always slept in longer than him, even in the wilds. On more than one occasion he’d had to lure you out of your nearly comatose slumber with the tempting smells of coffee and breakfast.

Astarion hears you gagging in the bathroom and goes to investigate. He soon finds you clinging to the toilet, practically mirroring how he looked the day prior.

“Oh no, little love, do you think you have food poisoning, too?” He questions, frowning slightly before kneeling down to press his hand against your forehead just like you’d done to him, “No fever, though.”

You whine, leaning into your husband’s hand before grumbling, “Damn the Blushing Mermaid straight to Stygia! Why do I even like that place, again?”

Astarion laughs, “I’ve been wondering the same thing for years, dear. I hope now you’ll finally reconsider. Do you want some tea and a bath?”

“Please,” You say, just before another wave of nausea hits you, forcing you to throw your head into the toilet and gag. Frustratingly, not much actually comes out despite the waves of sickness coursing through your body.

Gods, you wish you could simply vomit and feel relief.

Astarion begins to prepare the appropriate remedies, much like you’d done for him the day before. Thankfully, you seem to recover much faster than he did, and by midday you look and feel completely normal.

Good thing, too. You two were out of any elixirs that may have helped you had your ailment been as severe as Astarion's.

“Perhaps I’m just a better healer than you, darling.” The silver-haired elf teases as the two of you take afternoon tea in the sunroom.

“Perhaps I’m just stronger and more resilient than you, my love.” You retort, wrinkling your nose in jest at your husband.

He chuckles softly and then presses a kiss to your nose, “Agree to disagree.”

*

Astarion thinks the two of you are past this bit of bad luck, but when he wakes the following morning, he hears you retching once again.

When the elf finds you in the bathroom, appearing as almost an exact repeat of yesterday, though perhaps a bit worse, his brow furrows.

“Darling, I'm worried now. You look more ill than before. Perhaps we should take a trip to Jaheira? I can head to the apothecary for another Elixir of Health while she looks you over.” He murmurs gently, extending his hands to pull you to your feet.

You simply nod in agreement, too nauseated to do more than follow your husband’s lead as he slips you into a set of robes and ushers you into the carriage.

*

When Astarion returns to Jaheira’s after dashing out to the apothecary, he finds you sitting at the druid’s dining table. The two of you stop whatever hushed conversation you’d been having and turn to look at him in unison.

“Feeling any better, Tav?” He asks, coming to stand by your side before placing a worried hand upon your shoulder. You simply cover your hand with his and nod in response.

“Much better,” You say, flashing your husband a small smile. Something about your expression looks hazed, as if you’re stuck in a daydream. Poor thing, you're probably exhausted and experiencing brain fog.

“I’m sure you’ll be just fine with the teas and medicinals I’ve given you,” Jaheira assures, her eyes flickering between the two of you. She grins for the briefest moment before falling back into her typical, more serious demeanor.

Astarion swears he feels like something is off, but when he turns to give you a questioning look, you’re the picture of happiness as you sip from your tea cup, finishing it off.

Well, at least you’re doing what Jaheira has prescribed.

“What about the Elixir of Health I’ve just purchased?” Your husband asks, lifting the bag in his hand, “Will that help?”

“Oh, I recommend you keep it for something else. I don’t think Tav needs it for this,” The druid responds before standing, signaling it’s the end of the visit. She was always quite straight forward and lacking in certain genteel social graces, in Astarion’s opinion.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting with the Harpers.”

You quickly bid your goodbyes and Astarion helps you back into the carriage, eager to get you back to bed so that you can sleep off the rest of this sickness.

*

Astarion notices you’re uncharacteristically quiet on the carriage ride home. He typically doesn’t mind when you’re in one of your pensive, stoic moods. But this illness of yours had him more anxious than usual and he had to know more about Jaheira’s examination results, if only to ease his own worries.

“Darling,” He starts, taking your hand in his. But you don’t seem to hear him; you’re still lost in your own little world.

“My love,” He says, this time a bit more urgently, squeezing your hand just enough to pull your attention to him, “What did Jaheira say, exactly? Did she mention how long this illness will last?”

“Oh, the nausea will probably go on for a few weeks,” You reply, a goofy, lopsided smile breaking across your face. You cannot stifle your grin at the little secret you know you’ll be unable to keep for more than a few moments longer.

“Weeks?” Astarion questions, his voice pitching up with worry and brows stitching together in concern.

Why in the hells are you smiling? What druid bullshit was in the tea Jaheira gave you?

He folds his arms across his chest, not at all pleased by the lack of seriousness you seem to display. The idea of you being sick for weeks makes his heart hurt and his stomach churn as if he’s still sick. He could never stand to see you uncomfortable.

“Tav, are you drugged? This is serious. I fail to see what there is to be smiling about right now. You’re going to be nauseous for weeks and you can’t use an Elixir of Health? Are you absolutely sure Jaheira even knows what she’s—“

“I’m pregnant, Astarion,” You interrupt, and you cannot help but to laugh at your husband as his mouth hangs open mid-sentence, frozen in shock.

He blinks for a moment or two, otherwise completely still as his brain rushes to process the new information.

When the elf finally regains his composure and finds his ability to speak, he shoots out a flustered, rambled, “Darling, I— I’m sorry, can you repeat that? I’m not certain I heard you correctly. The road is quite bumpy and the wheels of the carriage are loud— I think they need oil— and the horses—“

You laugh and firmly grasp your husband’s hand, wholly capturing his attention before murmuring, “You ridiculous elf. You heard me the first time. I’m pregnant, Astarion.”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen a bigger grin cross your husband’s face.

“Tav, darling, I— gods, just come here to me.”

Astarion’s lips crash into yours, and he’s smiling into the kiss as he threads a hand through your hair, intent on pressing you closer into him. A tiny, delighted hum escapes your husband as he uses the kiss to express all the feelings he cannot yet put into words.

When he finally pulls away, he cups your face with his hands and peppers a few more kisses upon your lips.

“Is this your way of telling me you’re happy about this, Astarion?” You ask, grinning at your husband as he gazes upon you with the most besotted eyes you’ve ever seen.

“Thrilled, my love,” He whispers, before pressing forward to kiss you again, trying to convey the depth of his excitement with his affections. He doesn’t let go of you the rest of the way home, almost desperate to cover you in worshipful kisses, each one a little vow of love to you.

You notice he's unusually quiet, but then, he’s far too busy smiling and smooching to do much talking.

*

Later that evening, you move to get out of bed and head toward the bedchamber door.

“Ah, ah, ah. Where do you think you’re going, little love?” Astarion calls, already tossing his book aside to follow after you, “What do you need? Let me bring it to you.”

“I just wanted a cup of water, Astarion. I can go get—“ You start, but he quickly presses a kiss to your lips, effectively quieting you.

“Hush, my love. You’re still nauseated and you’re carrying very precious cargo.” He gently chastises as he turns you by your shoulders and steers you back toward the bed.

“You’re being dramatic,” You grumble, sitting back down in the bed and wrinkling your nose at your husband.

“Perhaps,” He agrees, grinning down at you as he gently folds the blankets back around your legs, “But you knew exactly the type of theatrics you signed up for when you married me, darling. 'To have and to hold, to love and to cherish' and all that, hm?”

And in that moment, Astarion was certain he’d never love and cherish anything more than you.

Nine months later, the little silver-haired newborn he held in his arms would prove him wrong.

[storm-angel989]

Heyyy hope you are having a great day! Could I request a Valentino x daughter fic, where the reader had just arrived in hell and he helps her adjust? Thx

-🕯anon

HAPPY WEEKEND! The editing continues (in between adulting of course!)

Enjoy!

It was the smell she couldn’t get used to. 

The scent of rotting garbage that filled her nose every time she stepped out of the V tower- every time she stepped out from under her fathers direct protection. The clangs and clamors, yellings and beepings of car horns surrounded her. It was almost like being home…except, maybe a touch more dangerous. She turned to walk away from the red limo that sat, waiting for her. She had made it this far, after all. 

Her phone rang, adding to the noisy chaos that was the pride ring. Startled, she pulled it out of her pocket and scowled at the caller ID. Of course he knew the second she stepped out of the building. 

“Uncle Vox? What’s up?”

“You left the tower without telling us, everything okay?” Vox’s voice floated through the line. 

Reader rolled her eyes as she scanned the street. “I did tell you- this morning. I have an appointment to get my school uniform fitted, remember? Dad said I have to finish high school…there was a whole discussion…” 

“Your appointment is at noon. It's eleven and it takes ten minutes for the limo to get there. You’re too early.” 

On the other end of the line, she could hear what sounded like the ting of the elevator. Fuck. She was sure he was on his way down.

“Uncle Vox, I was going to walk to the shop. And maybe stop for a coffee on the way, I mapped my route with VoxQuest before I even walked out the door.” 

“You can’t just leave the tower whenever you please sweetheart, it’s dangerous out there. This is a much different world than you’re used to.” 

The dial tone buzzed in my ear and I turned around to see Vox walking towards me. I tried to hide my scowl. Three months. I had been in hell for three months and the lack of freedom felt like chains around me. On Earth I had the freedom to come and go throughout the world as I pleased. People feared me. No one messed with me. Partially because at the end of the day, I was a nobody- just another soul scraping my way to survive. But my arrival in hell shed light on exactly who I was- who my father was. And that made simply existing dangerous. 

My father passed when I was five. My mother before that- in childbirth, or so I was told. I didn’ have very many memories of him when he was alive- and even less so of his two best friends, Velvette and Vox. And none of my mother. All I knew of them is that when they died, they left me alone in Earth’s version of hell. 

I grew up fast, like most kids in my situation. So my early death wasn’t exactly a surprise. But what was a surprise was meeting my father within the first twenty four hours of my arrival in hell. Even more so to be thrust into a life of luxury- a stark contrast from fighting to survive. 

“Ah. Not to mention you don’t know any of the good places in town. Also does your father know you drink coffee? You’re a little young- not that I’m judging.” He continued as he tucked his arm around me. “Come along now, let me escort you if you insist on walking.”

There was a part of me that chafed at the supervision. I was almost a sophomore in high school, and I had been on my own for years. But another part of me, a bigger part of me, relaxed ever so slightly, the pounding fear in my heart, the wonder if I would survive another day melted with each passing week. 

The bell rang as we entered the coffee shop and I crossed my arms uneasily. As I studied the menu I scanned for the least expensive item. I hadn’t actually planned on buying anything. Even with the bright gold credit card I now carried in my wallet, it seemed like a waste of money- an unnecessary luxury- when the apartment never seemed to run out of coffee pods. It was more the warmth, brightness and safety of the shop that I craved. The memories of warming cold hands on hot water filled cups, scraping together pennies to save for an occasional teabag. 

“What looks good to you?” Vox asked. “Their blueberry coffee is killer.”

The uncomfortable feeling of embarrassment settled in my gut. He wouldn’t understand, even if I tried to explain it.

“Just uhm, a small black coffee,” I replied as I shifted my weight uneasily. 

He raised an eyebrow, “you take cream and sugar at home.”

“Yeah but that’s extra and I don’t want…”

He gave me an odd look but reached over and squeezed my shoulder comfortingly. “Why don’t you let me pick something for you? Go find us a spot to sit, your dad should be joining us in a few moments.”

Grateful to be free of the burden of ordering, of the anxiety I couldn’t kick that surrounded paying, I slid into a window seat and watched as the crowd passed by. A few moments later I heard the bell ring and looked up as the tall figure that was my father made his way into the room.

My memory of him alive was sparse, but in death, the man was larger than life. People moved when he walked, listened when he spoke and the fear they emitted around him was practically tangible. I watched as he scanned the room, and when his eyes met mine they practically lit up.

“Bebita, darling,” he cooed as he took the chair across from me, “Vox tells me you snuck out of the tower?”

I felt myself flush, “I’m sorry Dad I…”

“Forgot?” 

He reached across the table and took my hand in his. To my surprise he gave it a gentle squeeze.

“I understand, cariño. It must be tough, going from all the freedom in the world to being locked into a cage. Let’s try to be a bit better going forward, okay? Death in this world is far more permanent than on Earth.”

“Yes, Papi,” I muttered quietly as I looked down. 

“It must be strange to you,” he continued. “It was for me, when I first entered hell. For you, it’s an even bigger change. An overnight princessa.” 

I looked up at him to meet his gaze. 

“I looked up where you lived- or at least, where they claimed you lived. The rest of my intel says you ran the streets on Earth. And at such a young age,” he continued. “So to find yourself here- thrust into the lap of luxury and comfort, no longer fighting just to put food in your tummy, that lack of adrenaline rush must leave you feeling as though something is missing.” 

“I don’t know what to do,” I blurted out. “I have everything I ever dreamed of at my disposal. And I…and I don’t know what to do with it.”

Valentino studied me. A moment later, Vox joined the table and slid a steaming cup towards me. 

“This is what I’d like to suggest,” Valentino continued, taking the proffered cup from Vox’s hands. “And what I think will help you adjust the best. Help to ease you into this new life, since what we have been doing just doesn’t seem to be helping.”

The familiar panic settled over me. Was he kicking me out? Was my lack of obedience, lack of adjustment too much for him to deal with? 

“Hey, kiddo, take a breath,” Vox said quickly with a sharp look to Valentino. “There isn’t any reason to worry.” 

“Not at all,” Valentino said with another squeeze to my hand, “I was going to suggest that when we get you fitted for your school uniform, we review the list of clubs and sports that you can partake in. I think getting you involved in something, and establishing a day to day routine will help you adjust.”

“We all have one,” Vox added as he took a sip from his mug. “A routine, I mean. And we well know those survival instincts don’t just go away overnight. Finding an alternate way to access that adrenaline will help you settle in.”

I considered as I took a sip of my coffee. Sweetness exploded on my tongue- sugar and chocolate and cream, all combined into one. It was a heavenly treat, and I almost couldn’t believe it was real. That this was real. I looked out the window for a moment.

“Bebita? Tell us, what is on your mind?” Valentino asked as he studied me, “Please. Speak.”

“I’d like to do something to help. Not everyone who ends up in hell ends up in the life I now can lead…right? There must be some way to give back, to help those who used to be in my..situation.” I said finally. 

Vox and Valentino exchanged looks. Slowly, Vox nodded.

“We can look into that, sweetheart. That could be something we do…together, if you wish?” Valentino said slowly. “It isn’t something we…I…feel comfortable letting you go out and do by yourself.”

“We could even make it a family thing,” Vox added helpfully, “get Velvette involved.”

I could feel myself start to perk up. The more hands that helped, the better, right?

“Yeah, I would appreciate that. Thanks, Dad.”

I saw him smile and I took another drink from my cup, letting the warmth spread through me. 

“We’ll get you settled in, sweetheart,” Valentino told me, “I promise.”

[winryofresembool]

Jily one-shot: That Time of the Month

Summary: Lily isn't feeling well while attempting to finish her Head Girl duties. Luckily James is there to help.

For @jilymicrofics prompt 'flush'

words: 2600+

genre: fluff (with a bit of physical hurt/comfort)

rated: G

@athenasparrow you seemed curious about this one!

AO3

...

“Evans.” James raised his gaze from the detention slips he was trying to go through, sitting at a desk in the Heads’ Office. “I know you take great pride in finishing your work when you’re supposed to, rather than doing things the Sirius way - such as, doing your homework 5 minutes before the class - but you look like you’ve been hit by several powerful Bat-Bogey Hexes in a row. Are you OK?”

“I'd be better if you didn’t interrupt me, Potter,” Lily snapped. James gave her a disbelieving look and she huffed in response. “I’m doing just fine, I just really need to have this done before the meeting…”

James got up from his chair and stopped next to her, covering the piece of parchment she had been reading with his hand. “You’re a really bad liar, you know.  C’mon, you can tell me if something is wrong.”

Lily muttered something incoherent that James couldn’t understand.

“Pardon?” He raised his eyebrow.

“I’m. on. my. period. right now. There. Are you happy?” she growled, her cheeks and ears getting some extra color.

“Oh.” James wasn’t sure what he was supposed to answer to that. He knew that periods were a perfectly normal thing but the girls he knew rarely talked about them, at least near him, unless they absolutely had to, for example if it was hindering their flying during Quidditch practices. “I’m… sorry?”

“Well, don’t be. Now, will you finally let me do my work?” She gave him a gloomy look and attempted to steal the piece of parchment back from him.

Something about Lily’s demeanor finally gave James his tongue back. “No.”

“Excuse me?” 

James took a step closer to her. “Lily, as your fellow Head Student I don’t want you to force yourself to work when you could and should be taking care of yourself. I can handle this.”

“You’re not going to give up, are you?” Lily glared up at him but her voice had lost a lot of its earlier sharpness.

“Afraid not. Not without a fight, at least.” James grinned, pretending to draw his wand from his pocket. Lily’s shoulders hunched and she hid her face into her hands.

“Fine,” she mumbled against the palms of her hands. “If you let me finish our patrol schedule now, I promise to be a good girl and take a nap after that.”

“Alright.” James agreed, choosing to take that as a win, and turned his attention back to the detention slips. He only had time to read through a couple of them before Lily muttered to herself: “No, this can’t be right.”

“What can’t?” he inquired, and Lily’s expression told him she hadn’t realized she was speaking aloud.

“I accidentally put Fawley on a patrol twice in the same week. And Price, I forgot she can’t patrol with Lovegood; they just had this big fight a couple of weeks ago and haven’t spoken to each other since then. And looks like Crouch is missing from here altogether…”

“Okay, Evans,” James clapped his hands together. “I believe it’s time for an intervention. I’m going to take this,” he pulled the schedule from Lily’s hands, “and I’m going to use a neat little charm the boys and I came up with when we were… uh, inventing something. It should help me put all the names in order with a single tap of my wand. I just need a list of who can and can’t patrol together.”

Lily sighed and handed him a list she usually kept hidden in a locked drawer. The new Head Students had quickly noticed in the beginning of the semester that it was quite necessary; the Prefects could be a rather dramatic group of people when they wanted to. 

“I haven’t written it down yet but the other day I heard that McGriffiths and Gudgeon are dating now… so unless we want to keep checking if they’re snogging in a broom closet instead of patrolling… Ugh, bloody hell, literally!”

James was confused by Lily’s last exclamation until he turned his eyes from the list back to her. She was wincing, her hand on her lower abdomen and her eyes closed. James hated seeing her in pain and wished there was something more he could do to help.

“I’ll make sure that McGriffiths and Gudgeon won’t be patrolling together, then,” he said briskly. “But now, you go lay down on that couch; everything is under control here.” He basically pushed Lily up from her chair and off to the couch before she could even protest much. Producing a blanket with a wave of his wand, he waited until Lily had settled down and draped it over her.

“Thanks, James,” she muttered from under the blanket. James’ heart skipped a beat when she mentioned his first name.

“Any time,” he nearly stuttered, before returning back to his desk.

James quickly finished up the patrol schedule and organized the rest of the detention slips before standing up and approaching Lily again.

“I’m going to get something to eat from the kitchens. Do you need anything?”

Lily seemed slightly taken aback by his question. “I don’t…” She winced again. “Actually… some hot tea and maybe some fruit would be nice… And…” she hesitated for one moment, “if it isn’t too much to ask… Madam Pomfrey has a potion for the cramps so if you’re able to stop by the Hospital Wing…”

“Of course I can!” James exclaimed instantly. ”You could have asked earlier instead of just squirming around!”

”Sorry that I had other things in my mind!” Lily said, annoyed. “It’s not always this bad… I don’t understand what’s with it this month…”

James softened again, understanding that she wasn’t really annoyed at him but the pain and possibly the hormones made her a bit snappier than usual.

“Okay.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “Worry not, I’ll get you your potion. Can’t have my Head Girl suffering while we could be… working hard to make sure we’ll have a very productive Prefects’ meeting in a few hours. You get some rest now.”

“Alright. Thanks. Go get your dinner, Potter,” Lily mumbled, pulling the blanket higher up her body.

…

It took James less than 30 minutes to gather all the things he had planned to gather. His first stop was in the kitchens and when he explained his situation to the elves (mentioning that someone who’s important to him is not feeling well so he wanted to surprise her with a meal), he got an entire basket of food from them. It had some tea, pumpkin juice, fruits and sandwiches in it but the elves had also snuck in a chocolate bar, a piece of cake and Lily’s favorite pie. James left the kitchens thanking the elves over and over again and promising to do something for them in return.

Madam Pomfrey was happily surprised when James asked her if she could put some potion for cramps into the vial he had brought with him. His face heated up when she asked him if the potion was for his girlfriend.

“N-no! Not a girlfriend! She’s just a… friend. Who happens to be a girl, yes. I just offered to get her the potion because I was on my way to pick something from the ki…” he remembered he wasn’t really supposed to know how to get into the kitchens, “um, the Great Hall anyway.”

“Oh, alright,” Madam Pomfrey nodded. “Well, regardless, I think you’re doing a nice thing for her.”

She handed him the potion and also a hot water bottle and he left, feeling rather warm and hoping he could go out for a fly to organize his thoughts but remembering that he still needed to complete his task.

Before he managed to return to the Head’s Office, however, Sirius’ voice spoke via a tiny mirror hidden in his pocket:

“Prongs! Where are you?”

He put the basket he was carrying down, fishing the mirror from his pocket, and soon he was staring at his best friend’s face in it.

“I was in the kitchens… and the hospital wing. Why do you ask?”

“Why were you in the hospital wing?” Sirius kept pressing, ignoring his question. “Did a bludger hit you again or something?”

James wasn’t about to reveal what he had really been doing there because he knew Sirius would tease him mercilessly. He said vaguely: “Something like that, yeah”.

“I didn’t know you had a Quidditch practice today.” Sirius raised his eyebrow. “Actually, I saw McKinnon a little while ago and she didn’t look like she had been flying recently.”

“How do you know that?” James questioned.

“Because she was quite busy snogging D… Never mind that. This isn’t about her, this is about you. You weren’t actually hit by a bludger, were you?”

“Why are you such a scent hound today?” James countered.

“Because you’re acting weird and as your best friend it’s my duty to find out why,” Sirius stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Anyway, I just wanted to ask you if the map is in the dormitory? Pete thinks Mulciber and his lovely gang are up to something again and Regulus might also be involved somehow… I wanted to check if there’s any truth to that statement.”

“Yeah, it’s there in my bag…” James replied, feeling weirdly uninterested in Mulciber’s plans, his thoughts still in the girl in the Head’s Office.

“Alright, thanks.” James could see Sirius starting to walk towards the boys’ dorm. “Hey, Prongs?” A smirk spread on his face, making James feel rather suspicious.

“Yeah?”

“You were actually with Evans, weren’t you?”

James rolled his eyes. “What if I was? Of course I have to spend time with her because we are the Head Students. I’m working with her.”

“I bet you guys were working real hard, alright,” Sirius snorted.

“I’m pretending I didn’t hear that,” James remarked. “Besides, I wasn’t lying about the kitchens and the hospital wing. Here’s the proof.” He showed the basket he had gotten from the elves to Sirius’ mirror image.

“Oooh, now I get it. You were getting some food for a romantic date… and probably some contraceptive potion from Poppy…” Sirius’ grin only widened.

James’ face felt so hot he imagined he would have been able to cook eggs on it. “Get your mind out of your gutter, Padfoot. If you really must know, she wasn’t feeling too well while we were finishing some of our paperwork so I volunteered to help the girl out and get her some potion for the pain. That’s all.” He was happy he didn’t have to lie about that part.

“Alright, lover boy,” Sirius lifted his free hand in the air as a peace sign. “Well, you go continue your meeting with Evans, I have some Slytherin stalking to do.”

“Right. See ya.”

James put the mirror away and ran his hand through his hair. He could only hope that he wasn’t as obvious with his feelings as Sirius made it sound. Lily and he had only been friends for a couple of months and he most definitely didn’t want to ruin it by revealing that by the way, those feelings he had had during their 5th year had not gone anywhere; as a matter of fact they had only gotten stronger and more genuine as he had learned to know her better. James from the past few months had learned that there was much more to the mystery that was Lily Evans than he had ever realized, but that only made him more intrigued.

He couldn’t remain in his thoughts for long, though, because the girl in question was still waiting for the potion. Using some of the little known passages he and his friends had discovered during their nightly expeditions he made it back to the Head’s Office much faster than he would want to admit aloud.

When James entered the office, he found Lily up and trying to write a report for Dumbledore. She got some color on her cheeks when she realized he had caught her disobeying his orders to rest.

James folded his arms after he placed the basket on the desk. Before Lily had time to defend herself, he said: “Looks like someone is as bad at following orders as I am.” 

“Yeah. Sorry.” She attempted to give him an innocent smile. James wanted to stay annoyed with her a little longer, but he couldn’t.

“Lily, sometimes it’s OK to let other people help you. There’s two of us for a reason. So that one can step in if needed. You’d probably do the same for me, right? ‘Cause we’re a team.”

“Right. Yeah, I probably would,” she admitted.

“Well, now that that’s been clarified, I brought you some things.”

He emptied the desk from the parchment, throwing them into a drawer before handing Lily the potion. She didn’t chuck it down instantly, though.

“You’ve been so nice to me today. I have to be honest… I imagined you would be one of those guys who get squeamish at the simple mention of periods.”

James frowned. “Why would I be like that? There are girls in our Quidditch team; they always let me know when they’re not feeling like flying. Besides, we Quidditch players are pretty familiar with pain and blood for a variety of reasons, so…” he shrugged.

“Right,” Lily replied and drank her potion with a grimace. It seemed to have an effect pretty fast; the relief on her face was visible within moments.

“That’s better,” she sighed. “So, do you have food for us?”

“I do,” James grinned in response and started spreading the contents of the best onto the desk. Lily’s mouth opened when she figured he had brought her a full on picnic. Fruits, sandwiches, treacle tart, chocolate, ham pie…

“James…” Lily looked at him with wide eyes. “This is too much…”

“Nah. I don’t think so. You’re always prioritizing other people’s needs. I think it’s time you get something nice done in return. Besides… I’m not planning to let you eat all of this on your own,” he winked, grabbing a sandwich from a plate and stuffing it into his mouth with great gusto. 

Lily threw him an odd look he didn’t quite know how to interpret. Then she took a chocolate bar from the desk and made a contented little sigh as she took a bite from it. 

“We gotta make sure there will be a Hogsmeade weekend soon… My Honeydukes chocolate stock is stupidly empty.”

“Oh Evans,” James clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “If you ever need chocolate, just say the word and it’s yours.”

“What? But… we can’t just march to Hogsmeade whenever…?”

“Trust me, we Marauders have our ways.”

“Right. Of course you do,” she snorted. “More seriously speaking, though - and don’t make any Sirius jokes now…” (James put a hand on his chest in mock offense.) “Thanks, James. I’m lucky to have a co-Head like you.”

James smiled softly at her. “I could say the same to you.”

Just like that, the atmosphere in the room changed. For a moment James and Lily just kept staring at each other, not quite sure how to progress from there. James’ eyes traitorously flickered towards Lily’s lips, and when she instinctively moved a little closer, her hand reaching his, he found himself mimicking her movements. But just when their fingers intertwined, his eyes asking her a silent question, a Prefect from Hufflepuff popped in to ask something about their upcoming meeting. The moment between James and Lily was broken, but he still squeezed her hand once more.

“Are you feeling better now?”

Lily smiled at him, her face adorably flushed. “Yes. Much better.”

A/N: Please let me know what you think!! (Ps. yes, I guess I'm a bit mean, not letting them kiss, ahah)

[alexthefly]

THUNDERPRIDE GIFT EXCHANGE

Happy Pride everybody!!! Hope you've all enjoyed the month's festivities and all the Thunderbirds-y goodness. I've got a bit of reading and art to catch up on, but what I've seen so far has all been amazing - you're all so damn talented! 😊

For the Thunderpride gift exchange I was lucky enough to be matched with the incomporable @emtb319 ! I've taken their prompt of seaside and kinda run with it, but if you look closely and squint a bit, you might just spot hints of their other prompts - stray cat and green - as well.

Also just to say that although this was meant to be pure Earth and Sky fluff, it did get a bit angsty in the middle (when does it not with me? 😅) But I promise it all turns out well in the end.

Hope you like it. Thankyou so much for the prompts, and happy Pride!

Word count: 2365

Also available to read on AO3

Just You

The morning of the annual Pride beach party had broken warm and bright, and now at mid-morning the place was jumping. Right across the crowded seafront, smiling people draped in banners and flags of every kind thronged together in a cacophony of colour and sound. Grilling stations had been set up along the edge of the beach to cater for the hungry revellers and, on the stage at the far end, performers in elaborate costumes kept the mood high with a joyous concoction of music, spectacle and thumping beats.

From his vantage point on the stone steps leading up from the beach, Scott Tracy was surrounded by the sounds, sights, and smells of a damn good time. Entranced, he took a moment and just breathed the jubilant atmosphere in.

It was intoxicating.

After a few minutes, he sensed his brother draw up next to him, a cool oasis of calm in a tumultuous sea of sensation.

“Quite the scene, huh?”

He breathed. “...Yeah.”

A delicious-smelling package was suddenly thrust into his hands.

“Got you some chips,” smiled Virgil knowingly.

Scott’s spirits soared and he tore into the paper cone immediately. Real British chips - distinct from fries and, according to Parker at least, far superior - were a rare treat that were best enjoyed piping hot.

That first bite of salty, crispy fluffiness elicited a moan of pleasure from him that frankly bordered on the obscene. 

Parker might have had a point.

Thankfully the ambient noise from the party spared him most of his blushes, although of course Virgil’s ever-sensitive ear caught it; but he just chuckled, rolled his eyes and turned his attention to his own similar package.

Over on stage the bands were swapping over, with the new one announcing themselves - Cat Distribution Network - before launching into a cover of some old dance track. It was apparently a popular choice; the crowd on the beach cheered, pulsed and tossed in waves to the beat.

“They sound good,” said Virgil, popping one of his own chips into his mouth. “That song works well pitched lower like that. Makes the chorus more robust. And the sax solo in the middle eight is an interesting choice - I’ve not heard that done before.”

Scott had no idea if the changes to the song were any good or not, but he nodded anyway, happy to hear his brother chatting away about something he enjoyed.

“So, you gonna go change?” 

Unlike Virgil, who was already back in his familiar red flannel and jeans, Scott was still sporting his distinctive IR blues from the opening ceremony earlier.

He shoved another morsel of fried goodness in his mouth.

“Food first.”

Virgil smirked. “Alright,” he said, “but I’m not explaining it to Brains if you end up with grease stains down your jacket.”

It was an empty threat - their uniforms were engineered to be way more than stain-resistant - but Scott made a show of wiping his fingers on his brother’s sleeve anyway, just because. Virgil grumbled, but let it slide. He could hardly complain; oil stains were kind of his signature look.

Scott finished off his chips and, crumpling the paper into a ball, pitched it straight into the recycling bin; nothing but net.

“Show-off,” grumbled Virgil, picking his own attempt up off the floor and spiking it in.

“Gotta make a good impression Virg,” replied Scott, just a little smug. “We’re official representatives at this event, after all.”

Technically it was Tracy Industries who were the actual sponsors for this year’s shindig, but it had been agreed all round that an appearance from International Rescue at Pride was just too much good publicity to turn down. It was also for that reason that a certain green sky-whale was currently parked on a specially-built platform just off the main beach, temporarily adorned with about fifty different painted flags of the LGBTQIA+.

There’d been a lot more than just oil on Virgil’s shirt for the last few days.

But unlike his ‘bird - or a certain squid, who even at this moment was sparkling his way somewhere across the packed beach dressed head-to-toe in pink, yellow and blue sequins - Virgil himself had apparently gone the subtle route with his own attire this year, choosing only a small green and blue pin in recognition of his own identity.

It was a very Virgil move.

“So, didn't fancy getting all dressed up, huh?”

Virgil shrugged. “Nah. I wasn't feeling it,” he said, nudging a stray pebble down the steps with his boot.

Virgil hadn't really ever been the type to draw attention to himself. Not shy exactly, at least not the way John was sometimes in a crowd, he preferred to play a background, backup role to bolder, more adventurous (reckless?) brothers. Sure, he’d done all the usual art student-y things in college - hair colour, nose piercing, his infamous goth phase - but none of it had stuck. 

The truth was that Virgil had never really felt the need to shout about who he was. He just…was. Even with his sexuality, there had been no “coming out” as such; somehow they’d all always known he was gay, just as Virgil had always known that they knew.

Still, it was a surprise not to see him with at least a little glitter in his hair today. Pride was a big deal in the Tracy household. Obviously Gordon was the usual driving force for getting the family into the spirit of things, but Virgil had always been right there behind him, ready to make his little brother’s more outlandish plans happen with all the enthusiasm and creativity that a double masters in engineering and art demands.

So why had Scott been left to source his own fairy wings this year?

“Are you okay, Virgil?” He asked, realising the need to tread carefully. “You don't exactly seem…yourself.”

Brown eyes looked up at him from under thick, slightly knitted eyebrows.

“I’m fine, Scott.”

Uh-huh. Nice try.

“Virg…”

He put one hand gently on the shorter man’s shoulder, noting the tension carried through it. Scott squeezed gently, and was happy to feel taut muscles relax just a little.

“Talk to me, Virgil.”

His brother held fast for a moment, but then seemed to wilt.

He sighed.

“I just… Look, I love Pride. Really I do. It's vibrant and joyful and so so important. But…” He swallowed. “I just wonder if… Is it all worth it?”

Scott tilted his head.

Nope, gonna have to run that by me again. 

“If what's worth what?”

Virgil huffed, clearly struggling for the right words. 

“If… If maybe I’m getting too old for all this.”

There was a moment where Scott knew he should be sensitive and simply listen, but he just couldn't hold back the sudden laugh trying to burst the back of his throat.

“Too old? You?!”

He gave in and let it out.

“Virgil, for god’s sake! If you’re over the hill then I must be at death’s door! You’re not even thirty yet! ‘Too old’...”

Glare-powered daggers stabbed at him as he fought for composure.

“It's a young person’s game, Scott. All of this…” He swept his arm across the scene of the party. “I just don't seem to have the energy for it at all.”

Down the beach, as if to illustrate the point, Cat Distribution Network were on their second encore; a loud, clangy, cymbal-fest of noise that sounded to Scott a lot like the last tropical storm they’d had back home.

Okay, maybe he had a point right this second, but…

“Virgil, you don't have to be young to enjoy Pride. It's not just for teenagers and Gordon; it's for everyone, from stroller to walker, every walk of life. It doesn't have to be the parade or this party - there's all kinds of things going on, from the clubs to the local library. Everyone’s welcome at Pride; there's something for everyone.”

He reached across and pulled his brother closer to him, needing more contact.

“And I know you know that. So tell me, what's really going on?”

Virgil said nothing for a moment, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the ground, brow furrowed.

Scott waited.

“I guess… I s’pose it's just that these days it's hard to feel connected to that side of me anymore. Being gay, I mean.”

Virgil shifted and sat down on the step, resigned to spilling his guts, and Scott went with him, refusing to let go.

“I guess with what we all do, how busy we are, it doesn't leave a lot of time for other things - dating and whatnot - and that's fine; I love what we do. It's what I signed up for. But lately it feels like… oh I don't know! Like I should be doing more. Being more gay.”

Scott's brain glitched.

“Being more gay?” 

Virgil nodded. 

“Doing more. Making a show of it. No-one ever looks at me and goes ‘oh yeah, there's a gay guy’. I’m not flashy or flamboyant or camp; I don't go to nightclubs or have… Oh, I don't know, posters of Judy Garland on my wall. I’ve never been that kind of person.”

He put his head in his hands, hiding his face from Scott.

“I guess what I’m saying,” he said quietly, “is that I don't really feel as if I belong here. I see all these people showing off their identities and revelling in them and I… I just don't feel…valid.”

There was a moment of silence as each of them processed what had just been said. Virgil seemed to shrink in on himself, spent from the effort of verbalising it all, but Scott remained motionless, brain churning.

Wow.

Where to begin?

How long had Virgil been feeling like this? Feeling like his own identity didn't belong to him? 

His brother was so sensitive to everyone else’s feelings and moods, but he almost never talked about his own; not without being asked, or using them to offer advice to someone in need of it. He was always so busy playing backup to the rest of them, seeming so comfortable in his skin, self-assured, not needing to perform…

Had Scott really misunderstood his brother so badly?

Virgil was still sitting there, not moving, head still in his hands. Slowly, gently, Scott shifted around until he was right in front of him, then reaching slowly out and gently pried his brother’s hands apart, scooching down to try to catch his eye.

“Virgil, I don't…” 

No, that's not right.

He took a breath and started again. 

“I can't know what it feels like to be gay in this world. It's something I’ve never known; never could know. You have all the knowledge of how that feels. All I can tell you is how I see it from the outside.”

“And what I see… is you.”

Virgil looked up at him, brow furrowed.

“Those things you just listed?” Scott continued, resting one hand on his knee. “They're all only one way to be gay; they're not the blueprint. Stereotypes and archetypes aren't the be all and end all; there's as many ways to be queer as there are stars in the sky, and just as many ways to celebrate that queerness.”

Brown eyes dimmed, full of doubt.

“You don't have to perform it for anyone or put on some costume. You painted the flags on Two. You helped Gordon with his costume. You…” 

He could feel himself flailing. 

“Virgil, you love so completely. You live your life with your whole heart, every single day. You do it your own way; you always have.”

He reached out to put one hand on the back of Virgil’s neck, bringing him in closer until their foreheads touched.

“You are you, and you are gay, so being you is showing your gayness. No ifs, no buts. It just is. You don’t have to prove anything. Those two things are inexorably linked, Judy Garland poster or not.”

He felt a small chuckle rumble through his brother’s chest and breathed an internal sigh of relief.

“Just be, Virgil,” he said. “That's all. Just be you.”

A breath. Two.

“...Thanks Scott.”

And suddenly he needed to be closer than just a forehead. Arms acted on their own accord, wrapping around each other in a fierce hug, each of them desperate to reassure the other that they were there, that it was okay.

It was all going to be okay.

From over his shoulder Scott could hear the party clearly still going on strong. Cheers and noise bounced around the beach as the next band struck up on stage, and as the first chords sounded, the crowd roared their approval.

I am what I am,

I am my own special creation…

Scott and Virgil looked at each other, and dissolved into fits of giggles at the serendipity of it all.

Sometimes it was just like that at Pride.

Eventually they managed to get a hold of themselves again. Virgil extricated himself from his brother’s arms and stood up to brush himself off. 

The song was still going into the second verse, with the crowd singing along to every word in raucous harmony.

“Now this?” he said, inspiration dancing in his eyes, “This is a Pride song worth getting a little dressed up for.”

Grinning, he reached across to Scott’s baldric and nabbed his laser cutter. Then working quickly, he bent down and burned a small tear in each jean leg, before ripping them right across the mid-thigh. He kicked off the remaining tubes of denim, leaving him in a pair of ragged shorts. Then he shrugged his shirt off, whipped off his undershirt (drawing interested looks from more than a few passers-by), and finally pulled his red flannel back on, tying the bottom of it tight across his chest, Daisy Duke style.

The effect was striking.

“How do I look?” he asked, standing proud.

Scott smiled.

“Very you.”

Virgil beamed.

“Dance with me?” he asked, holding out a chivalrous hand to him.

Scott took it with a little curtsy. “I thought you’d never ask,” he said, smiling broadly.

And with that the pair of them made their way joyfully down the steps - sand, heels and spirits all kicking high - to join the celebration.

[madforhoran]

i may have written a lil bit (not finished yet) for the prompt from yesterday….

It’s been six months of trying to get your life together, after the elderbrain defeat, after you saw Astarion running away from the sun. You felt so guilty that you didn’t even try to contact him. You thought he must resent you for what he gave up on after the ritual. All you wished for him was to not have his hands and soul stained with so many deaths, to see he was strong and powerful the way he was. 

“You’re right, I can be better than him.”

He agreed with you but watching him run away in fear of burning to a crisp didn’t feel like much of an accomplishment. Such a lousy friend you were.

You’d been reading Withers’s reunion party invitation over and over again, pondering whether to go or not. It would be way easier to take the coward’s way out and decline. At the same time you wished to see your former companions again, you couldn’t miss it. Rip the bandaid quickly rather than slowly. Maybe he won’t even be there, he wasn’t big on the company of others anyway. 

You made yourself somewhat presentable and travelled back to the place that hit you with feelings of nostalgia immediately upon arrival. The campsite near the lake. You could smell food, burning wood. You could hear Karlach’s roaring laughter, Shadowheart was walking around the lakeshore with Scratch, Wyll was talking to Jaheira and Halsin, and Gale was having a conversation with an astral projection of Lae’zel. 

And there he was. 

Beautiful as ever. 

Sitting next to the campfire, fiddling with his knife. Your fingers remembered the softness of his white curls, the coldness of his skin. Your lips remembered the touch of his and how you robbed yourself off of all what could’ve been. 

You stopped in your tracks for a moment, tempted to run away before he noticed you, yet at the same time you were drawn to him like a moth to a flame. 

How could you go for so long without seeing him? He was on your mind nonstop anyway but still. 

He turned his head.

Shit. You cursed inadvertently. There was no escape now. He was coming towards you now and you weren’t blind to notice the happiness and confidence that radiated from him. He looked genuinely content. 

“Ah, finally gracing us with your wonderful presence, darling? People were putting bets on you. I won, obviously,” he said with a lighthearted tone. Oh, how you missed his voice too.

“Astarion… hi,” you began, your thoughts turning into mush. “You look well.” 

He chuckled. “As complimentary as ever, some things just don’t change, do they?” 

Something about him did change though. It was a good change. There was no bitterness, no resentment in his voice. You were dying to know what he’d been doing all this time on his own.

“I’m sorry I didn’t seek you out, I felt horrible, like I failed you,” you said, ignoring the bait. “Failed our friendship.”

“Darling, you didn’t. I had to process things on my own time, alone. It took a while but eventually I realised that shadows and darkness are a part of me, same as my fangs. This is a curse only if I allow it to be, if I allow it to define me,” he said with a smile and you couldn’t help but feel pride soaring in your chest. You hadn’t expected something like this coming from him. “This is finally ‘me’ in all my glory for better or for worse.” 

“What does it mean?”

“It means I’ve taken a turn as an adventurer and a hero. Inspiring hope in people, rather than terror. I do try to inspire a little terror though. It’s still me after all,” he said, his face beaming with excitement. “Turns out nobody actually cares about murder when you murder the right people and I’m quite good at it!”  

You let out a giggle without meaning to, only this man could make you laugh about murder. At least now his thirst for bloodshed had a proper direction…and gods above have mercy, his confidence was extremely attractive. Not that he ever was not attractive but until Cazador’s death he was operating under fear and trauma, his self-perception warped by Cazador’s two-hundred year long gaslighting. Seeing him this happy finally elevated the burden you carried for the past six months.    

“Who would’ve thought of Astarion becoming a hero. I distinctly remember you scoffing about how utterly awful it is and how heroes suck, or am I wrong?” you teased. He rolled his eyes with playfulness rather than annoyance. “Oh, how I missed you, darling, you and your hero speeches! What can I say, you inspired me.”

Your heart made a little jump inside your chest. Being in his presence again felt so familiar and comforting, alluring even. If there was one thing you regretted saying to him was that he needed a friend, not a lover. Maybe this was your chance to rectify it, unless Astarion had found somebody else. You had no idea how to approach the topic to make it less awkward so you excused yourself to grab a drink.

One. 

Two.

Three drinks.

Wasn’t enough. You felt his eyes on you, watchful as always for a seasoned rogue. He approached you and swatted the half-drunk wine glass out of your hand. “I think you’ve had enough, dear, we don’t want no drama here,” he clicked his tongue and lifted you from the chair. “W-wait,” you stuttered. Now or never. “I want to-to ask you…something,” you mumbled, praying not to pass out and utterly embarrass yourself in front of him. 

“Don’t tell me you got yourself drunk to amass courage to ask me whatever it is you want to ask. That isn’t like you, or is it?”    

Gods, he was so close. His beautiful face, his beautiful everything. You felt so damn stupid. He was in love with you back then but what now after you practically abandoned him.

“D-do you still like me, Astarion?” you asked, your heart beating so fast now that you could hear it echoing in your ears. “More than a friend, I mean.”

“I must say, darling, that this is a very feeble attempt to rekindle whatever was between us. I expected you to be more sophisticated.”

Despite drunkenness, you were determined to stay on course. “What is your answer? And please stop deflecting.” 

“My dear, you want me now when I have no problems to deal with, is that it?”

Deflecting yet again. He never stopped being a little shit and you both hated and loved it about him. “I want you, I’ve always wanted you.”

“Your actions spoke otherwise,” he countered with a devious smile. There was no way in hells he was going to let it slide and make it easy for you. In the end, it was your fault.

[miss-tc-nova]

After Running Away - Leona x Jamil

Well hello again @completeanduttermess​

Okay so...of course I had to finish this before June ended so, yay! Happy pride month! Second, oh my god, I’m so sorry this is so bad. I may have had free time, so my brain decided all work was out of the question. It was either this or the pet!au that was getting way out of hand and almost not LeoJami at all. 

Anyway, this is meant to be in the era after The Lives We Want. 

~~~~~~

Leona & Jamil After Running Away

In the beginning, it’s rough.

Mostly for Leona.

Big Kitty may have been shunned by his kingdom, but he was still a prince. He still had people looking after him and doing all the grunt work for him.

He can’t do that now.

Well, he probably could. Jamil would probably do it, but then the desert native would be living the same life Leona just saved him from.

So, even if he grumbles and moans the whole time, Leona is going to do his own chores with his own hands. Or at least try.

Jamil has to save him.

It’s terribly awkward for him to watch Leona try to cook or wash clothes. The lion could barely dye his own hair after all.

Leona is smart and talented and could probably easily survive on his own. But for the life of him the man cannot navigate a kitchen.

So Jamil does often end up with those chores, but Leona always watches carefully. He’s observing and taking the process in. And it’ll be soon enough that he’ll knock Jamil’s socks off with a curry he made himself.

Jamil is faring a bit better at this new life. But he still has a lot of anxiety.

Every bit of him is nervous that someone is going to recognize him. Or recognize Leona. And when that happens, Leona might be punished. And Jamil’s family might be punished. All the consequences of a single slip up plague his thoughts.

Those nerves often come out in his overplanning. He starts mapping out their next stop, the sights they’ll see and the places they’ll stay, but in an excessive way—like down to the minute. He’s scarily accurate. Sometimes, he unpacks the bags to take stock of their supplies, check their cash, and mend any clothes.

The worst is when he starts making contingency plans. That’s when the paranoia really starts to win. He’s rehearsed in his head what he’d say to anyone who asks who he is and if they’ve seen him on the news. He’s even thought about what he’d do if anyone tried to detain Leona for this whole thing.

While it may all look normal on the outside, Leona is very aware when Jamil is stressing. And in those times, Leona does what Leona does best.

Annoy Jamil.

Sometimes it’s literally laying on top of Jamil’s focused task, sometimes it’s sitting nearby to poke him, sometimes it’s throwing random things at him (like socks and pillows and wadded paper), and sometimes it’s picking the snake up to haul him off. Somehow, this stupid “pay attention to me” tactic always work. Jamil does pay attention to him and that gives Leona all the leverage he needs to be a distraction.

Because Jamil knows that, no matter what happens, they’re in this mess together. Surely their two bright minds could get them out of any situation.

Aside from Jamil’s anxieties and Leona’s lack of daily living skills, these two are having the time of their lives!!!

Leona doesn’t feel the eyes of everyone comparing him to his brother. He didn’t realize just how much of a weight that was.

And there’s no pressure of “royal appearances.” He can be as “slob” as he wants…if Jamil lets him. Well, maybe he cares about his appearance a little, but it doesn’t have to be annoying anymore.

And Jamil gets to do whatever the fuck he wants! He gets to say “no” when he doesn’t want to do something. He gets to do whatever he wants. And he gets to show off, so long as no one recognizes him.

Though part of him might yearn for the world to recognize him, Jamil is rational. Besides, it’s more than enough for him if only Leona sees him.

At first, they visited some small places, trying to keep a low profile while the world was on the lookout for them.

But as time went on and their faces faded from the news, they got see the rest of the world.

They’ve seen the inside of many motels and Airbnbs. But they’ve also spent nights under the stars. Lying on grass, saying stupid stuff and laughing at nothing until they fall asleep. Those are probably their favorite moments.

They have acquired a broom. It’s the fastest, and really only way, for them to get around. They may have money, but rentals, taxis, and tickets add up. And brooms run on magic, which is free. It also makes the quickest escape if necessary.

And sometimes, just floating on by is peaceful enough for them.

Mostly Jamil is in charge of where they go. Sometimes Leona will put in his opinion on where to go, but mostly, he has no opinion and just lets Jamil choose.

As they approach each new destination, the excitement tends to spark in Little Snake. His demeanor lightens and usually there’s a smile on his face. Leona almost always catches himself staring—maybe smiling a bit too.

Leona actually stares a lot. He gets a bit of second-hand excitement watching Jamil. That and just watching his sweetheart makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. But he’ll never admit that. It one of the things that Jamil teases him about.

But honestly, how could he ever stop himself when all the wonder of the world sparks in those gorgeous eyes.

Though there’s a lot of cooking, there’s also frequently the taste-testing of local cuisine. It gets a little interesting considering Leona’s picky pallet but they enjoy taking a break and sharing something new. When he finds something he likes, Jamil analyzes the flavors, wondering if he could easily recreate it.

Though there’s plenty of money from Leona’s savings for now, Jamil keeps an eye out for little odd jobs as they walk through. Things like helping load or unload trucks, delivery across town—just little things to make a quick buck. Leona grumbles as he pulls his weight.

Despite enjoying the travelling, sometimes they talk about settling down somewhere. In fact, as they travel, they talk about the pros and cons of living in the location they’re in. There’s a small list on the places they’d want to live, but both of them agree that it’s going to be a few years before they think about that.

For now, it’s just enjoying their newfound freedom and enjoying each other’s company.

~~~~~

Nova’s Twisted Wonderland Masterlist

[punkstarlet]

Fallen Stone: Unguarded

A month later 

Shilo reviewed the pages in her binder while sitting on her beanbag in the attic, checking them one last time for any spelling check and still having the essential facts. After a whole month of sneaking in and researching, her work is complete. She has everything she needs to show the truth and get Heaven to stand against this injustice. She can imagine the look on Charlie’s face when she hears Heaven has stopped the extermination and is willing to try something new. no more bloodshed, no more loss, and no more control. She let out a nod. 

“It’s finished. All that’s left is to take it to Camael, and the school system will allow it," she exclaimed, closing the binder. “Hang tight, sinners; this extermination is done for good.” She placed the binder on her table as she began to leave the attic and get ready for work. 

She stopped halfway, only to turn and face the vast painting of Lucifer using his magic. She stares at it with deep longing in her eyes. How long had she last heard his voice or felt his arms around her? Does he even miss her like she misses him? She felt tears forming in her eyes, feeling the aching pain in her heart. She pressed her body against the painting, closed her eyes as tears rolled down her cheeks, and spread her arms apart, pretending she was hugging Lucifer again. She cried softly, slowly falling to the floor. She wishes that she would see him again, even for just a minute. Just to hear his voice again and to feel him again. 

Shilo stands up, wiping her tears off her cheeks and eyes. Even after eons, the pain still hurts. At least she knows that Lucifer is happy with Lilith and that they have Charlie together. She sighed sadly, letting the pain go through her body. She needs to get ready for her job. She leaves her attic, climbs down the stairs, and pushes the stairs up to the ceiling. Leaving her binder inside the attic. 

~*~ 

Shilo drank her coffee as she put on her outfit. She buttoned her vest and slid on her heels. Once her mug was empty, she placed it on the sink while she put on her bowtie. 

 Just before Shilo could enter her room to receive her binder, her cell phone rang, stopping her. She sighed, praying it was not the archangels again. She returned to the kitchen, where her phone was, and picked it up. 

The caller I.D. shows Emily. Shilo answered it. “Hello.” 

“Ms. Winterstone!!" Emily yelled through the phone. “I have something fundamental to tell you now!!" Judging by her voice and tone, she sounded pretty excited. 

“Now?” Shilo frowned. She looked at her bedroom door. “But school is about to open and—“ 

“It won’t be too long, I promise!” Emily assured her. “Please come!!” 

Shilo sighed. As much as she wanted to decline Emily’s invitation, she couldn’t find the strength to break her heart. “Alright. I’ll be there,” she replied. Right as she hung up, she groaned. “Frostbite...” she mumbled. She couldn't bring the binder with her while visiting Emily. The last thing she wanted was to make her start questioning. “I’ll have to bring my binder to work tomorrow.”

Shilo grabbed her purse and placed her phone, keys, and wallet inside. She turned to Nicholas. “Look after the place while I’m gone, Nicholas.” She kneeled and kissed his forehead. “I love you.” 

Nicholas barked as Shilo walked out of the apartment, closed the door, and locked it.  

~*~

Lute stands in the middle before the archangels and Sera, who are up on their chairs and towering above her. On her left side, her arm is replaced by a mechanical arm powered by angelic powers. After losing her arm in the battle against the Hazbin, Raphael made her a unique arm. She looks up at them, eyes filled with pride. 

Sera stood up. She glances down at her. “Lute, will you promise to lead the next band of exorcist angels to protect heaven from danger and be responsible?” She entreated with a firm voice. 

“With my life,” Lute answered, pressing her mechanical hand against her chest. 

Michael nodded. “Good. As of today, you will be their new leader. You are no longer a lieutenant, and I expect you to be on your best behavior.” He announced, glaring down at Lute. “After what happened with Adam, we cannot allow this behavior again.” He mentioned Adam’s demise. “We will be keeping a sharp eye on you.” 

Lute bowed before them. “I swore to lead with honesty and compassion.” She swore, pulling herself up. 

Sera nodded, pleased with her words. “Thank you, Captain Lute.” She thanked her. You may go now," she told her. 

With a final bow, Lute leaves the courtroom, leaving only the archangels and Sera alone. Once she is out of their sight, her eyes turn dark and vengeful. 

Michael let out a sigh, rubbing his forehead in irritation. That seems to be getting the remaining angels' attention. 

“Something on your mind?” Jophiel asked him. 

Michael turned, facing his brothers and Sera. “Why did I agree to make her the new captain? She is clearly dangerous.” He pointed out Lute’s behavior. 

“She was second in command. And she agreed to it whenever something terrible happened to Adam.” Uriel explained. “I know she is having problems over her time as an exorcist, but there is nothing we can do.”

“I would have just picked another angel,” Gabriel told Jophiel. “Adam was a totally—“ 

“Ah!” Jophiel interrupted him, stopping him from talking too much. “Not in front of Sera!” He pointed to Sera, who was staring at them.

Sera, on the other hand, let out a sigh and rubbed her forehead. She stares down at her six loyal angels. “There isn’t much I can do. We’ve made our choices, and we must live with it.” She reminded them of the decision they made eons ago. “And thanks to Adam’s reckless action, we have no choice but to pause the extermination.” 

Raphael stood from his seat in shock. “But our agreement—“ 

“Got broken when Adam killed a hellborn and tried to kill the princess.” Sera interrupted him. “And now we face the consequences. Right, prince of heaven?” She turned to Michael. 

Michael sighed, nodding. “Yes... Sera.” 

Sera nodded as well, glad he understood. “How is Shilo?” She asked him, wanting to hear any progress from him. 

Michael leaned back in his seat, looking quite annoyed. “It’s like she is avoiding me. She hardly spoke a word to me or came to visit me.” He acknowledged the lack of Shilo over the weeks since she last came to his office. “I don’t know what is going on with her.” 

“Need I remind you that it’s to stop her from getting too curious?” Sera reminded him of the agreement he and Sera had made eons ago. She started to pace, feeling a sense of dread in the air. “I feared that she was facing something breaking our control over her.” She added. 

“I feared it too.” Uriel nodded. Remembering his and Raphael's last encounter with her inside the building, when she was supposed to be in her class teaching the Heavenborn, “It’s like she’s becoming a different angel. Ever since we refused her request.” 

Sera placed her hand under her chin, thinking deeply. If what they say is true, then the Seraphims' worst fears are coming true. The virtue angel’s curiosity is growing and becoming bigger to cut down. It’s only a matter of time before she figures out the extermination and tells anyone about it. There is only one way to break her. “Michael, you handle this.” She ordered him. 

“Me? What do you suppose I do?” Michael implied. 

“Convince her that you will give her one day to visit the earth,” Sera advised. “That is what she truly desired, right?” She can recall when she caught Shilo trying to follow some angels to Earth and stopped her before she left Heaven’s ground. 

Michael furrows his brows down. He was not expecting this from the high seraphim, who wanted to keep Shilo in Heaven. “Yes.” He nodded. 

“Use that; it might snap her back to her senses,” Sera suggested—anything to get Shilo under control again. 

Michael nodded, understanding her order. “Yes, seraphim.”  

Satisfied with that nod, Sera vanished in a flash of gold, leaving the archangels alone in the courtroom. All was quiet around them, as no single angel dared to move from their seats. 

“Using Shilo’s desire against her?” Azrael breathed, facing his fellow brothers with a concerning expression. “But aren’t we trying to keep her from Earth?” As far as they remember, the elders and the seraphim gave them strict orders to keep Shilo distracted from ever going to Earth. Yet, for Sera to tell them to use Shilo’s greatest wish against her is very cruel. 

“That was the order to be sure she stayed ignorant and obedient,” Raphael stated, standing up from his seat and staring down at his brothers. “Yet, for some reason, she is acting quite strange.” He thought back to Shilo’s choice of topic when she knew what was not accepted. 

Gabriel leans close to Azrael and Jophiel as they gather and lower their voices. “Should we tell them about Shilo asking about the extermination?” Gabriel whispered. 

“Heavens, no!” Jophiel gasped, shaking their head softly. “that will only get her into trouble.” 

“What are you two whispering about?” Uriel catches the three as he hears them whispering. 

“Nothing!” Gabriel shouted, forcing a smile on his lips to hide his concern. That only made Uriel raise his eyebrow at him, making Gabriel feel a sweat on his forehead. 

Till Jophiel stepped in to save Gabriel’s wings and halo from Uriel’s suspicions. “But, but, that would break Shilo’s trust in us.” They elaborated on the problem. “We’ve been the one she came to for eons ago. We can’t do that to her.” 

Michael then stood from his seat, causing the others to notice his aura had changed. He placed his hands behind him, his eyes cast down. “We have no choice, for Heaven,” Michael disclosed. He turned to Raphael, whose eyes looked dark and lacked emotion. “Raphael, go retrieve her and bring her here,” he ordered. 

Raphael nearly flinched at the sight, but he nodded. Knowing better than to refuse the prince. “Of course.” He then turned and left the courtroom, knowing Shilo’s location and where she would be. 

Azrael frowned. “I have a bad feeling.” He lamented. 

“You and me both...” Gabriel nodded. 

Michael softly sighed, his shoulder slumping down. He had hoped that Shilo would be fooled enough to live for many more eons until all life was gone, but like life on Earth, the force of change took its toll and ruined their plans. And he knows who started this whole disorder. 

Uriel noticed Michael's distress as he placed a hand on his shoulder. “Is there something else troubling you?” he asked. 

Michael huffed out, lifting his eyes up to face Uriel. “Lucifer’s daughter is spreading false hope in Shilo’s mind. I knew I should have let Adam kill that girl to stop her attempt to ruin the fabric of heaven’s control.” He snarled, still the daughter of Lucifer, and Lillith had so much from her parents to make everyone question heaven. “but…” he frowned. “She is my niece. She has more than Lucifer’s blood; she also has our blood.” And she is family to them as well. 

“Niece or not, she is much more dangerous to Heaven than Shilo.” Uriel proclaimed. “We should have known this would ruin our attempt to keep Shilo down.” The last extermination proves how special his niece is, and it is extraordinary to catch Shilo’s attention. But still, they have their order. “Next time we rebuild the extermination, Charlie will be first.” 

“What?!” Gabriel shouted in shock.  

“But Uriel—” Jophiel tried to explain till Uriel cut them off.

“When you close your eyes, what do you see? Do you hold the light, or is darkness underneath?” Uriel then started to sing, glaring at the two. “In your hands, there’s a touch that can heal. But in those same hands is the power to kill.”

He extends his hand, glaring at the three remaining archangels. Michael didn’t face Uriel, while Gabriel, Jophiel, and Azrael all frowned in concern. “Are you a man or a monster? Are you a man or a monster? Are you a man or a monster? When you look at yourself, are you a man or a monster?” He asked while singing.

“Have you forgotten what we all agreed on?” He questioned them, glaring. “We can’t go back on our words.” He then huffed out, a frown on his lips. He cares deeply for Shilo and Charlie, but the choice is already made. “As much as it pains me, we have no choice.”

Before Jophiel can argue back, Michael starts singing as well. “It’s so hard to tell which side you’re on. One day is hell, the next day is dawn.” His voice sounds dark as he sings. “The lines are blurred; you keep rubbing your eyes. The tables turn; now it’s time to survive.”

He turned around, facing them with cold eyes and a dark aura around him. “Are you a man or a monster? Are you a man or a monster? Are you a man or a monster? When you look at yourself, are you a man or a monster?”

Uriel stepped in and sang. “You can’t take back the damage you’ve done. Oh, you can hide, but you can’t run.” He stands by Michael’s side as they both face the three angels. “No, you can’t take back the damage you’ve done. Afraid of what you might become. A man or a monster.”

The three angels all frowned, knowing they couldn’t turn back what they had all sworn. They all formed an agreement after Lucifer’s fall and knew the consequences they would face if broken. “A man or a monster,” the three sing, understanding their situation.

Gabriel sighed sadly. This pains him so severely. “For Heaven…”

Jophiel cast their eyes down. “For the seraphim...” 

Azrael silently sends his prayers. “For our angels...” 

“Are you a man or a monster?” Gabriel sang, his wings folded sadly.

“Are you a man or a monster?” Jophiel sings along with their brothers, frowning.

“Are you a man or a monster?” Azrael sang, pulling his hood down over his eyes.

“When you look at yourself,” Michael sings, his wings spreading as a shadow casts over him. “Are you a man?" His cold eyes show nothing but emptiness and menace. “Or a monster?”

 ~*~

Shilo enters a heavenly park, seeing angels playing on the open field and a couple walking together. It was also where Emily asked her to come. Shilo never thought an open field with angels would be perfect for discussions, but Emily always found comfort in a positive atmosphere. She started looking for Emily, trying to locate her fast enough to get this over with and get to her job.

She saw Emily flying up in the air while waving both her arms. “Over here!!” Emily called out to her. Shilo’s pace increased to reach her as Emily floated back down to the ground. She finally made it, just to notice her surroundings. Emily picked out an empty area with only a wall to block any wandering eyes; at least they wouldn’t have to worry about the other angels getting nosy. 

“Thank you for coming!’ Emily smiled at Shilo, happy she managed to come. 

“Of course.” Shilo gave her a nod. She trusts her former student. “So, what is something fundamental that you need to share?” She asked her, ready to hear. 

“Okay.” Emily breathed, calming herself before she could get excited again. “Remember when we talked about the demons, and you told me how they won’t be pleased getting involved in holy presence?” She reminded her of their last discussion over a month ago. 

“Yes.” Shilo nodded; she remembered. 

Emily’s smile slowly grew more prominent. “Well, a demon got redeemed into Heaven!” She revealed happily. 

Shilo blinked. “What?” she gasped. A sinner from Hell actually got into Heaven and was redeemed? She thought the hotel wouldn’t work after watching the progress fail. And no sinners care enough to get good and be accepted by the lord. Yet, Emily says one has finally got in. 

“His name is Pentious! He died in Hell but came back to Heaven!” Emily explained, barely keeping her excitement in check. “The very first redeemed soul!!” 

Shilo couldn’t help but let out a proud smile. Charlie’s hotel really worked. That would mean there is still a chance for the other sinners to get in. Perform a good deed in Hell and return to Heaven as a reward after a new death. But it didn’t mean the new sinners knew this; Shilo still got a chance to show her research, and the redeemed soul was the push she needed. 

“That’s amazing! This is the very first time a sinner is welcomed here!” She grinned. She slowly formed a smirk. “Does Sera know this?” she asked Emily. 

“She was there when he arrived!” Emily nodded, remembering the look on Sera’s face when Pentious appeared before them. “At first, she was speechless! You should have seen her face!” 

“I’ll bet!!” Shilo laughed. 

The two laughed. Knowing Sera, she was not expecting the unexpected. 

After a few laughs, Shilo smiled. “So where is Pentious?” she asked. 

“He’s waiting for me by the gate!” Emily answered. “But I want him to meet you! You’re going to love him!” Her wings fluttered in excitement. 

Shilo chuckled; her students' excitement was quite contagious. “I would love to meet the first redeemed soul, but I need to get to my job," she explained. “But maybe we can meet at the coffee shop?” she suggested.  

Emily nodded, happy with this plan. “Of course! I can hardly wait!” she cheered, hopping on her feet like a happy child. “See you after school hours!!" She opened her wings and flew out into the air, heading to the gate to tell Pentious their plans. 

“See you after school hours.” Shilo nodded and watched Emily fly away. 

Then she spread her wings and flew straight to her school, fast, before she showed up late. She can hardly contain her joy. When she meets Pentious and hears his stories about Hell and the hotel, she will have enough information to add to her research. Tomorrow, she will show it to the school board, and Heaven will no longer be a nation of control and power but a nation of acceptance and equality. 

~*~ 

The door to Shilo’s apartment was shaking a bit. The door handle twisted from side to side, refusing to open. “Shilo? Are you there?” Raphael’s voice spoke through the closed door as he tried to open the door. “Camael said you didn’t come as scheduled. Shilo?”  

He didn’t hear an answer from the other side. He thought Shilo was back at home after he tried to find her at her job, only for Camael to explain Shilo hadn’t arrived as early as she always had. So he checked the second place she would be. Yet he can’t get an answer. He stopped and let the door handle go. With a heavy huff, he used his angel powers to unlock the door. 

He opened the door and entered. He knew what he was doing was wrong and violated Shilo’s privacy, but he needed to find her before the seraphim started suspecting the worst. He closed the door behind him, which caught Nicholas’s attention. 

Nicholas jumped off the couch, rushed to Raphael, and barked at him. Raphael only smiled when he saw the dog. Nicholas was a very special gift from Michael to Shilo. Shilo thought Michael gave him to her to ensure she didn’t feel lonely at home. But Michael gave him to her to keep her distracted and lift her spirits after grieving the loss of Lucifer.  

“Nicholas! Hello there.” Raphael kneeled down and petted him on the head, watching him wagging his tail. “How are you? Have you seen Shilo?” He asked, hoping Nicholas could help. 

He watched Nicholas run into the bedroom, stood up, and followed him. During this, he took Shilo’s place and checked everything. He is pleased that everything is clean and organized, just as they taught her. She is living a clean and steady life. 

Raphael enters the bedroom to find Nicholas lying on the bed, wagging his tail and panting. He lets out a sigh, seeing that he is no help. Raphael was about to leave and check the third location Shilo would go, only to stop and notice something unusual. the string hanging on the ceiling. 

He grabs it, pulls it down, and reveals the stairs leading to the attic. He grew curious; he didn’t remember giving Shilo a place with an attic. Still, his curiosity filled his mind, and he wanted to see if she was up there. 

He walked up the stairs, reaching the top and stopping. He saw Shilo's paintings covering the walls and some on the floor. He walks further, looking at the painted canvas filled with beautiful, detailed landscapes. The characters she loves in her book, the Eden Garden, she never got to see, and all of Lucifer.  

When he saw the painting of Shilo and Lucifer together, Raphael only groaned and shook his head. “Oh, Blue Star...” He mumbled. He never thought Shilo would still be grieving over Lucifer, still madly in love with the angel who both stole her heart and destroyed it the same. Seeing her painting under their eyes, he is very disappointed in her for going against what they want her to do. 

He looked ahead, seeing the tiny corner. He spotted a binder on the table, right where Shilo had left it. He approaches it, reaching in and grabbing the binder. He opens it, violating Shilo’s personal property.

His eyes widen in horror as he reads the research Shilo has done and sees the information and documents she took about the extermination, the exorcist angels, and their agreement signed in their own blood. He couldn’t believe Shilo was storing personal property about an event that no one was supposed to know about, but Shilo finally went past them and discovered their dark secrets. Anger and betrayal flow in his blood and reach his brain. Shilo, their own angel and the one with endless curiosity, turned her back on them.

He slammed the binder closed, having seen enough. He growled. “That little bitch.” His eyes glow green. He needs to tell his brothers and Sera about this.

[zprites]

March TMNT All 4-1!

Wow, this month's prompt was a lot harder to write this month for whatever reason. But alas, I prevailed and finally finished!

The prompt I chose was: “I’m new to all of this. Can you show me where to start?”. I did reword it a bit to fit the story more, and also sprinkled in some more Spring stuff for the season lol.

The lovely hosts: @turtle-babe83, @thelaundrybitch, @leosgirl82, and @post-apocalyptic-daydream

Also, I went orange this month because Mikey suddenly got me in a chokehold.

Bit of NSFW - As always, turtles are aged up!!!! Mikey and Reader are well into their 20s!

Rise! Mikey x Female Reader -- Enjoy!!

Taglist: @turtle-babe83, @manduse, @morning-sun-brah, @crazysarah-98, @pacoholin, @iamdefinitelytheratking

Flowering Like the Stars

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where, I love you directly without problems or pride: I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love, except in this form in which I am not, nor are you, so close that your hand upon my chest is mine, so close that your eyes close with my dreams. Pablo Neruda

"Achoo!" 

"Bless you!" 

"Thank you." You rubbed your nose as you called back to your friend, trying to shake the tickling sensation that had crept into your nostrils.

You barely had enough time to cover your mouth before another sneeze escaped, this one harsher than the last. 

“You okay?”

“Yeah!” You sniffled dryly. “It’s just my damned hay fever…”

Knew leaving the window open last night was a bad idea. Oh well…

Mikey came over and handed you a glass of lemonade before he sat down on the couch beside you, taking a sip from his own glass. You thanked him for the beverage and took a generous drink. The perfect balance of tartness and sweetness hit your tongue and rolled across your palate before it slid down your throat. 

Ah… Like liquid sunshine…

“Thank you again for coming over to help me.” You gently nudged his knee with your own as you spoke. 

He gave you a large grin. “Of course! I’m always happy to help you, especially since I get to see your hair first!”

Always happy to help you… No matter how many times he said that, it still made your heart all aflutter. And you knew he meant it everytime. 

Wanted some company to the art supply store? He was right there with you picking out new paints and always insisted on carrying everything up to your studio. Needed a plus one to the latest art exhibition? You never knew he could look more handsome, but the way he looked in that suit proved you so very wrong. One of Leo’s pranks causing a glitter bomb to explode in your living room? Not only did he help you clean up every speck of evil glitter dust, but he became your partner in crime, aiding you in your revenge prank that caused flour to go everywhere in the red-eared slider’s room. 

And here he was now: helping you dye your hair again, this time a vibrant dark green. 

“You’ll definitely look ready for Spring now!” He exclaimed, pulling me from my thoughts.

“Well, I do want to be at least one person’s spring awakening this year.” You shot him a wink, raising your glass to your lips once more. “Might as well look the part.”

As you took a drink you noticed a hint of pink on Mikey’s cheeks out of your periphery. 

“You’ve been mine since I met you.” He mumbled before he busied himself with his own beverage. 

You froze. He spoke so quietly that you were almost certain you misheard him. 

But you didn’t.

This wasn't the first time that your best friend had said something that alluded to his deeper feelings for you, and each time you chose not to press further. It's not that you didn't reciprocate those feelings. You’d be the first to admit that whenever you got a text from Mikey you would feel giddy, replying back in an instant while grinning like an idiot. That you stared at him almost every time you hung out with the turtle brothers, Leo often giving you shit for it later on. Or that your mind always wandered to him when you pleasured yourself, his name on your lips as you circled your clit, wishing that those fingers were his own.

You were certain you loved him, however you were afraid - afraid to be hurt again like you had been in past relationships. 

So you said nothing, just like now, the two of you falling into a tense yet restrained silence. 

A silence that was killing Mikey.

As he drank his lemonade, the same recipe Todd taught him years ago, his mind wandered as he pointedly kept his gaze from you, hoping you didn’t hear his latest blunder.

Then again, he found himself making many slip ups as of late. 

And he knew why, he was a turtle that was very intune with his emotions after all. He was certain he fell in love with you the moment he laid eyes on you, but for the past several years he kept those feelings to himself. Mikey knew that if he spoke up about his feelings there was a small possibility that you didn’t feel the same. So he told himself he was happy with the dynamic the two of you had now. 

However most nights he longed for your presence beside him as he jerked himself off, your face filling his mind, your name playing like a reverent invocation on a loop.

“Up for a game of Smash until the timer goes off?” You asked just as he drank the last of his beverage. 

Your words caught him off guard as he accidentally swallowed down the wrong pipe, causing him to go into a coughing fit to expel the offending liquid out of his lungs.

Way to keep your head out of the gutter there, Michael… 

Mind Raph chastised him as he fought to get his breathing under control.

You gave him a concerned look as his coughing finally calmed down. 

“Sorry.” He rasped, giving you a smile. “Sure, smashing sounds fun.”

You raised your eyebrows at him, a couple of seconds ticked by before he realized what he said.

“I MEAN- Yes, let’s smash! Ah, no! I- uh… You…” He continued to fumble over his words until he inhaled slowly. “Yes, playing Smash sounds fun.” 

Amusement bubbled up inside of you while he died a little on the inside. 

Unbeknownst to the other, the two of you shared an identical thought.

I’m so fucking screwed…

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

The timer went off just as your Meta Knight flew off the map from Mikey’s King Dedede combo move, signaling the end of the match. You groaned at your defeat and turned off the timer that was on your phone while Mikey muted the TV.

“C’mon, we can do a rematch after.” He offered with a grin. 

The two of you made your way to your bathroom. You sat down against your bathtub and leaned your head over the edge. Mikey grabbed the detachable shower head and turned on the water, checking the temperature before beginning the process of rinsing out the dye out of your hair. 

You became lost in the sensations; water rushing by your ears, Mikey humming as his fingers carded through your tresses. 

Suddenly you were hit with the raw domesticity of the current moment. 

Here he was, lathering up shampoo along your scalp like he did every other month, his movements gentle as he slowly worked out the knots while making sure most of the dye washed down the drain. 

It made your heart ache. You wanted to say so much yet that nagging fear held you back, but with each touch you felt something else stir inside of you. 

Resolve. 

“There.” Mikey stated. He turned off the water and placed your shower head back in its holder before wringing out the excess from your hair. You sat up when he finished, taking the towel you laid out before he showed up and pressed your wet locks into the cloth.

I have to tell him…

You lowered the towel, setting it aside to deal with later. Once he saw you were done he offered a hand down to you which you took, allowing him to help you onto your feet. 

However this time, you didn’t let go. 

“Mikey…”

He raised a brow ridge in question as you settled on what you wanted to say.

“Earlier, I did hear you.” 

The silence that followed was almost palpable. His expression was unreadable as you began rambling.

“And I know- No, I just… Ugh, let me start over.” 

You sighed slowly as you mustered the last bit of courage that was beginning to fade away as his gaze stayed locked to yours, the midnight blue of his irises swimming with emotion.

“I like you.” You confessed. “Probably even love you.”

“Really?” His voice sounded so small, as if he was afraid you’d say ‘Sike!’ and shatter the hope that you instilled with your words.

Your lips upturned into a gentle smile. “Yeah, and I really want to kiss you right now…”

His breath hitched as you drew closer to him, face now inches from his own. 

“I- I never…” He trailed off, uncertain on how to proceed. 

“You feel the same, right?” You asked.

“Of course!” He declared. “I’ve loved you for years now. I just never… I’ve never been in a relationship before, so this is all new to me. I don’t even know where to start…”

Ah…

Your other hand rose to cup his cheek.

“I can show you, if you’ll let me.”

His eyes widened as he gave a small nod.

Time stood still for you two as you leaned in, your lips meeting his in a chaste kiss. His hand tightened around yours as he let out a soft moan, his other hand coming to settle on your hip. 

He pulled away first, a large grin on his face as he rested his forehead against yours. 

“I love you too.” 

[ten-cent-sleuth]

4, 10, 15 and 16 for the writer asks please! :)

Coming right up! :)

4. A story idea you haven’t written yet?

I answered this here as well, but I’m happy to trot out another one. It’s not like I’ll be running out of unwritten ideas any time soon. xD

Since you’re like my Hotchniss mutual (😜), here’s the entirety of a plot bunny I jotted down in a Doc literally just titled “Hotchniss Idea”—

Prentiss is always joining groups. Growing up and moving around, she was categorically, methodically The New Girl. When she joined the FBI, her colleagues frequently iced her out because of her mother and she had to wriggle her way into their dynamics. She often (or at least twice: Doyle and Hotch) dated men who had already experienced marriage and fatherhood. One day, an unsub somehow picks up on this (or he’s been stalking her? or she tells him all this by herself to build rapport?) and—in front of the whole team, naturally—urges her to pick him instead and for once to get to build something. “You’ve always had to fight for approval and justify the space you take up. Affection from your mother, friendship during your youth, trust from your team—it’s never been free, has it? With me, it would be, I swear to you. My love would be unconditional.”

This would, of course, lead to some fluffy team reassurances aaand Aaron getting to comfort Emily about any legitimate lingering insecurities. Welp, it’s not the most fleshed-out idea, and I don’t know that I’d ever get around to writing it, but there we go. :3

10. What is the longest amount of time you’ve let a draft rest before you finished it?

Ooh, I’m glad you asked this one because interestingly, my answer changed a couple of months ago!

The oldest WIP that I still haven’t shelved as “probably not going to finish this” is an Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Secret Service AU, which I started in like 2020 and which I still consider my baby, my pride and joy, my pet project. However, I suppose the question is more about a draft that has by now been completed, so I will instead say—

—this sucker ☝🏽☝🏽 sat in my drafts from June 12, 2023 (or, uh, June 13 at 04h00 😅) to September 30, 2024. Less than a year and a half might not be too long a wait for a multichap, but this was a 2k-word one-shot! For me, short stories get written within a week or not at all: those tend to be spun out of a whirlwind of feels rather than forged out of conscious outlining, so the heart of the story will decay after too long. Not in quality necessarily, but in vitality—in what it means to me, you know? So I was astonished and thrilled with my muse for making an exception here (and must once again thank @queen-vessaraia-ashlynne for giving that muse its direction again). ;P

15. Favourite weather for writing?

I had never given this thought before! During the summer, I seize the opportunity to write outside, so I suppose perfect walking weather would be perfect writing weather. If I’m indoors and comfortable though, I don’t really notice! In general, I love cloudless sunny skies and a good snowstorm, so maybe those can also be my favourite weather(s?) for writing in particular. ;D

16. Favourite place to write?

Idk if I have one! I’ve written in the bathtub, on the bus, during class, at the hospital, underneath my desk (floor time for those who like to hide and vanish 👍🏽), literally inside the closet, on hills and beaches……and honestly, I’ve found that as long as I am writing, I’m incomparably happy.

Maybe my old dormitory though? I felt very alive and productive there in general, thanks to my first contact with the beautiful intersection between convenience and independence. I’ll probably never see it again though, lol!

Click on the link to send more fic writer asks! 👻

Thank you so much for the questions. <3

[drawloverlala]

June status update

Hello! Ah we already are on June! hey, Happy pride month everyone!! 😊✨

And well Just wanted to write my usual status update and add a bit more of what’s to come for my commissions! as well as some update about the status of Brotherhood twist comic along the way ^_^

My commissions are still currently closed, I still don’t have a new opening date either, as I’m still working on the batch I got from April but I’m almost done with it! there’s only 2 commissions left to finish, one without background and one with background. And I’ll be possibly finishing the one without background this upcoming week.

after I’m done with these I’ll be taking a break but I’m thinking on opening commissions again after that, and with that said, I’ll be increasing my prices!  

The new prices are:

full character render= (half body) 80 USD / (full body)100 USD

A background = (simple)5 USD / (partial)80 USD / (fully rendered)250 USD

And well with this I’m wondering if the amount of requests will be less next time, I’ve talked before that I’ve been trying to regulate that a bit and this was an option to do that as well.

I also I feel like needed to regulate it again anyways, I mean, I was asked to draw a half body commission a while ago, and it made me realize that I can’t have the same price of a full body commission for that, so I thought I had to do some adjustment to my prices in general 😅, it has been a while since I last changed them after all.

And well besides of raising my prices in general, I also want to announce new listings for the future! Right now these are closed as well, but I’ll make sure to announce when I’ll be opening them!

🌸 Comic pages commissions!

I’ve already been working for a while doing these with an independent creator, but also I want to try taking these more regularly to create more experience in this field and to add newer content to my portfolio that I can show 😆

the process would be the same as with the illustration commissions, just that along with reference I’ll also require a sort of script, or at least a description of each panel. here’s the commission info page for this listing as well as examples:

Comic pages commission info page.

But here are the current prices as well! may or not change later, but here they are as of today:

Comic page (pencils): 40 USD

Comic page (pencils and inks): 90 USD

Comic page (pencils, inks and colors):130 USD

🌸 Chibis and Sketch pages!

I want to take these on Ko-fi, Their prices will be 20 USD and 40 USD respectively, I haven’t yet published these listings on my Ko-fi page, but here’s some examples of what I have in mind with these:

so... yeah, that’s about it for commission talk so far! then again, the comic commission prices may change, the new listings are still not open but I wanted to announce them, And currently still working on the batch I got from April but I’m almost done with it, and  after I’m done with that, I’ll take a break dunno how long but not too long and after that I’ll be announcing when I open commissions again with the new prices!

Here I updated my carrd with the current commission prices as well!

https://drawloverlala.carrd.co/#comissioninfo

If you want to see all my prices in detail I made this too.

The * in this, is that I need to explain XD,  I’m currently working on projects  where I take these kind of commissions, so they are not technically closed, but I’m not currently accepting them outside of these projects, so they aren’t really open either. hope that’s not too confusing XD

🌸 Now about Brotherhood’s Twist fan comic!

ah so far, I FINISHED SKETCHING THE WHOLE COMIC! i mean like all pages are currently sketched! there’s still no dialogue set for some of them, I’ve been adding some drafts of dialogue, I also started inking some of the new pages! I can see now an end to this comic! so yeah, here’s the state of the comic:

New unpublished pages done: 8 (pages 64 to 69)

New sketched pages:16 ( pages 70 to 86)

New inked pages: 5 to 6 ( pages 70 to 74 and half of page 75)

Here’s a peek of some pages out of order!

And that’s all for now! Thank you very much for reading and well I hope you have great week!

[kitty-is-writing]

Happy Pride Month all!

This year I finally got around to finishing some of my LGBTQ+ themed shorts, based in the same world as my novels. All of these are canon to the Drenius books, bits of character background and slice-of-life stuff that I couldn't fit into the main storylines.

The first one focuses on Alex and Dan, two loving husbands who run a tavern in a remote village. Hope you enjoy reading about these two.

❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

It was always so quiet in the mornings, Alex thought. The only sounds were the faint chink of dishes in the kitchen, and a distant mumble of people outside. Of course, the lack of paying guests at the moment contributed to the near silence. When they had people staying in the upstairs rooms, there was usually some thumping and conversation as they got up, packed if they were leaving that day, and headed down for breakfast. He enjoyed having guests, for the company and the stories they shared more than any income, but it was also nice to have quiet mornings sometimes. It gave him a chance to get all the tables polished in peace, and spend some time with Dan.

“Lex, honey, did you want your eggs fried or scrambled today?” Dan called through from the kitchen.

“Scrambled please,” he replied. Dan made the best scrambled eggs, with a sprinkle of grated cheese and some spices mixed in. They’d talked about opening for breakfast a few times before, serving some simple meals and hot drinks early in the day, but always decided against it. The first couple of hours of the day were their own, and neither of them was willing to share that time with anyone else.

He had just finished the second last table when Dan pushed the rickety breakfast trolley through, loaded with steaming plates, crumbling pastries, chilled juices and the morning’s papers. “Here we are. A good breakfast for a good day,” said Dan, setting things on the last unpolished table.

Alex smiled and put the cleaning things aside. This was their little ritual, Alex cleaned while Dan cooked, and once it was ready they sat together to enjoy each other’s company in peace before opening to the rest of the village. “It looks delicious. Did you try something different with the bread? It looks a bit more golden around the crust than your usual recipe.”

“It’s a new glaze, just a thin coating of spiced honey brushed over the top before baking. I thought it might make nice toast,” Dan replied as he cut off a few slices. “Let me know what you think, I might add it to the menu.”

“Mm. It’s good, reminds me of that mead they make over in the next village,” Alex said. “Sweet enough for flavour without being over sweet, and just right on the spice. Clove and cinnamon?”

“With a tiny hint of ginger for warmth. I’m thinking it might work nicely on some cakes for the winter, too,” said Dan, opening one of the papers then immediately closing it. “Nope. No bad news for me today, thanks.”

Alex looked over. “What is it?” They had newspapers delivered from both Aglendale and Oakshire, via a small courier service that worked along the border.

“Looks like King Francis is being a bastard again,” Dan replied. “Have a read if you like, I’m not going to make myself upset with the details.”

One of the Aglendale papers, the Apex Gazette, was closest to Alex. “Foolish Frankie Forfeits Friendships? Nice alliteration there,” he said, pulling it over to scan the article. “Apparently he’s insulted one of Nakata’s Imperial Princes. ‘Lard-bellied snot goblin’, they’ve quoted here, that’s an interesting phrase.”

Dan snorted into his tea. “Which Prince? I know a few of them are slightly portly, but I wouldn’t say lard-bellied. Or snot goblin, whatever one of those is supposed to be.”

“The one who was engaged to Princess Alicia, according to this. Nice looking guy, at least in this picture.” Alex turned the image towards Dan.

“Not bad. Little skinny for me personally, but I can see the appeal. Oakshire’s papers are a bit less flattering of him, though.” Dan nodded towards the paper he had first picked up, its headline screaming ‘Princess Engaged to Deviant Foreigner’. “Not sure if that’s a smear campaign of if he’s really bi or something, but it looks like they’re pushing the whole pervert angle again.”

Alex dropped the Gazette on top of it, covering the headline. “Nice. I’m so glad we got out of there when we did.”

“Same here. I do miss the bustle of Falridge, though. Maybe we could take a break sometime, close up for a week or so and go visit some of the elves’ cities?”

“That’s not a bad idea. It’s usually quiet in late spring, maybe then? Sapphire Falls is supposed to have some amazing views, or there’s Agate Cove on the south coast, if you’d rather go for a seaside trip.”

Dan nodded thoughtfully. “Either is good. Maybe both, if you feel like a bit of a road trip. We could hire a car, spend some time sightseeing along the way as well. Or we could go mad and take a whole month, travel the length of the country. I hear there are some great hiking trails in Points’ End,” he said.

“Now there’s a plan I can get behind. We could get someone to take care of the inn if we’re going for that long, too,” Alex said. “I’ll ask around, see if anyone could step in temporarily. Or just close the place and hire someone to keep the rats away. It’s not like we do a roaring trade at the best of times, little village like this. I’m sure the locals can feed themselves for a month.”

They finished breakfast, and Dan disappeared back into the kitchen to start on the day’s prep work. Alex cleared away the plates and polished the last table, hanging the assorted papers on the rack beside the bar. Most of the Oakshire papers tucked towards the back, folded so that the headlines screeching about ‘deviants’ were not immediately visible. Neither of them needed to be looking at those words all day, having heard them more than enough throughout their lives. Hopefully tomorrow the press would have found something else to be outraged about.

[tokiro07]

Cipher Academy ch.23 thoughts

[Your CLP is GNC AF]

So it’s confirmed that Class M isn’t literally the equivalent of Class 13, but rather a virtual classroom that qualifying students are able to meet in

In other words, it’s still basically the same concept as Class 13 in Medaka Box, just specifically for the Glasses Holders of this world rather than the Abnormals of that world

I suppose that would make the CLPs the equivalent of the Thirteen Party, or more specifically the Front Six, considering that these are the six students who have proven themselves to be the most capable

Also, looking back at the CLPs introduced last week, I thought there was a seventh CLP who was lying down, but I see now that Hakanage was just sitting in a weird way. That makes a lot more sense, I apologize for any confusion

In case anyone is confused by Iroha’s confusion over Kubinashi’s gender, it’s actually the same situation as last week: Kubinashi’s buttons are reversed! In fact, eagle eyed viewers may have noticed this detail last week! I tried to, but the way I was looking was based on the fold of the uniform rather than the buttons themselves, so I kind of missed it. Once again if I’d put in just a little more effort, I could have actually done it, like every other god damn puzzle in this story. I’m getting real sick of this guy, not going far enough to figure things out on his own!!!

In fact, it happened with this week’s puzzle too! I figured out that the clocks were letters, I just got impatient and stopped trying to figure out what each clock actually represented before I even finished the first one. I probably wouldn’t have figured out that it was Greek letters, though, so I won’t claim that I would have actually solved this one successfully. I’ll just take pride in knowing that I had the right first step

I’m really glad to see that Kubinashi is somehow related to Omomuro’s past, I feel like having that point of connection will be a good way to continue to develop the cast. In fact, it demonstrates once again that Nisio doesn’t plan to simply cut and run and is doing his damnedest to carry this series as long as his legs will let him. I hope that every CLP will be able to help us get a deeper look into the cast too, though I doubt every classmate is related to one of the CLPs. If I get more insight into Anonymity at least, then I’m happy

This is mostly a set-up chapter, so I don’t have too much else to say. I will say that I have somewhat mixed feelings on the revelation that Q.??? is actually a password and not a puzzle in and of itself, as I’m sad that it literally can’t be solved. However, it being a password for Class M makes perfect sense, and I’m glad that Nisio was playing the long game with that concept since the Morg was only ever really mentioned in passing from that point on

I’m not sure how the hunt for the Morg is going to play out going forward, I doubt it’ll be a series of traditional one-on-ones, but this should be the point where we really start to see CA’s feedback loop stands out from the crowd. We’ve still got a couple months before it’s in danger again, so hopefully that’s enough time for people to really start to appreciate this wonderful series. Fingers crossed that next week capitalizes on that. See y’all then!

[avenirdelight]

Cheater

Declan Rice

Her boyfriend has another girlfriend. As her best friend, Declan feels like she has to know about it. It's definitely breaking her heart, but maybe it's not going to be as bad as she thought. [Inspired by “Cheater” by The Vamps]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DECLAN!❤️

Rage. That was all she could feel. She had never felt such immense rage before. Her face was burning and her heart was pounding so hard, it was starting to hurt. Her eyes were full of tears that were threatening to fall.

For the first time, she witnessed her boyfriend cheating on her. With her own eyes, she’d just seen him kissing her friend. A business trip to Manchester turned out to be a little getaway with the other girlfriend on the other side of London. Marcus and Lily. Even their names sounded great together.

She’d heard gossip, words from her friends, rumours that A had seen Marcus with a girl somewhere, or that B had seen him in a different place than what he’d told her he was at, or that C had seen him driving away in his car with someone familiar. She’d heard so many things for months. Now she felt stupid for ignoring those gossips and kept trusting him.

Because apparently those gossips were all true and that Marcus was a total liar. He was a cheater.

This girl... She tended to be flirtatious with everyone, she had her records on ruining relationships. She’d actually warned Marcus that Lily was dangerous, that she wasn’t as sweet as she seemed to be; she couldn’t believe that Marcus had actually fallen into her trap.

“How long have you known?” She asked from the passenger seat, breaking the silence that they had left hanging since they’d seen the cheating pair take a seat inside the café, somewhere near the window. They were still there and she hadn’t been able to take her eyes off of them, watching their every move, every touch, and every kiss.

“Two months,” Declan, who had been gripping the steering wheel the whole time, answered from the driver’s seat.

“What took you so long to tell me?”

“I wasn’t sure, I didn’t want to judge too fast. Not until last week at least, when I saw them… You know.” Declan had been doing his own investigation, trying to catch this cheater in action—he’d never trusted this lad since day one. Last week he’d finally seen them getting out of Marcus’ house which happened to be close to his. He had pressed the record button on his phone camera just in time for the pair to share a kiss. And he knew that he just had to tell her. It angered him that this bastard was playing with her, someone that he cared about the most.

“God, I’m so stupid,” she said, finally dropping her gaze. The tears fell from her eyes and she immediately wiped them away with the ends of her jumper.

“No, no, no, don’t say that.” Declan shook his head.

“I am, Dec, I’m stupid, like— Everyone knew about this and tried to tell me, but I brushed them all off.” She was frustrated and definitely sounded like it. “I knew something was off but I kept letting him feed me lies. I kept pretending that our relationship was fine when I knew that it was far from it. And I—” She couldn’t finish her sentence. She was getting all choked up, the lump on her throat was getting more and more uncomfortable.

“Hey, it’s okay, you’re okay.” Declan shifted in his seat, one hand went to her shoulder to caress it. “It’s okay, just take a deep breath…”

She looked out the window and tried to control her breathing, taking long heavy deep breaths. Declan didn’t stop caressing her shoulder, reminding her that she wasn’t going through this alone, and somehow the thought made her feel comfortable enough.

“All just because… All just because I didn’t want my pride to get hurt,” she continued. She was more composed now. “But he didn’t even care about me. I mean, if I can’t give him what he wants then why doesn't he just let me go?”

She turned to Declan for the first time. She’d been too embarrassed to look at him, and more importantly, she didn’t want to see him looking at her like he was pitying her or sorry for her.

“Well…” Declan started, but he was hesitating. What he was going to say was a bit risky. “Why don’t… Why don’t you just let him go?”

She scoffed. Declan’s heart slowly fell to the pit of his stomach; he must’ve offended her in some sort of way, he knew he shouldn’t have said it. He was about to apologise when he saw a smile rising on her face, a sheepish one.

“I know, right? I should’ve done it a long time ago,” she said, giving Declan an instant relief. “I don’t even know why I’m still here. Nothing to fight for. Yeah, maybe… Maybe this isn’t gonna be as bad as I thought.”

Declan offered a smile and she quickly copied it. “You’re gonna be fine,” he assured her. He meant it, because he knew that she was such a strong person and she’d be happier without Marcus.

He knew it for sure. Declan didn’t know what she’d seen in Marcus, he never understood. Why she kept holding on to the toxic relationship, he never understood. Marcus was a bit of a player, famous for being the type to not be in a serious relationship. But he was always overprotective towards her, often not letting her do what she wanted. Marcus didn’t even let her hang out with him, but he knew that Marcus was just insecure.

“You know what, you’re right. This isn’t gonna be as bad as you thought,” Declan agreed. He was trying to be honest here. Having your best friend stolen by someone who couldn't really appreciate her was really painful, and he’d just had enough too. “Maybe we don’t have to sneak around anymore. To my games, my nephew’s birthday parties. Or to our movie nights.”

Maybe when you leave, you’ll end up with me after all. But Declan didn’t say it out loud. Because it wasn’t a secret to both of them. They knew how they always had feelings for each other, but had always been too scared to go for it.

Maybe she wasn’t the only cheater. She knew she wasn’t a saint. She’d loved Marcus, but her feelings for Declan had never really gone away. It had always been there, pure and untouched, since when they were eighteen.

“Yeah, that’s right.” She nodded her head. She stared at Declan’s eyes who were looking at her fondly. Full of reassurance and hope, once again making her believe that the world wasn’t gonna end if she let her pride get hurt when she admitted that Marcus left her for another woman.

She didn’t know what she would do if she didn’t have Declan. Maybe she should’ve listened to him back then not to put her trust in the wrong person; look where her stubbornness had gotten her.

As the image of her now ex-boyfriend kissing that girl replayed in her mind, she was certain that this was her time to leave.

—

The Netflix intro played on the screen. The “tudum” sound blared too loud through the speakers, and she shrieked, pressing the lower volume button on the remote aggressively.

But a ding from her phone interrupted her—a text from her mum asking about this weekend’s wedding anniversary dinner. She replied, saying that she and Declan would be there. She was typing another message when she heard the door open.

“The movie’s started? I told you to wait for me,” Declan’s annoyed voice caught her attention. He’d just entered the room with two boxes of pizza in his hands. The opening music of the movie was playing and she just realised that she didn’t pause it.

“I’m sorry, I forgot to pause it,” she said, immediately grabbing the remote and pausing the movie. “I was replying to my mum’s text. She asked if we’re going to the anniversary dinner. And the dresscode is yellow.”

“Yellow?” Declan asked as she put the boxes on the table. “Might need to do some shopping, then. And remind me to buy a present.”

Declan suddenly bent down and captured her lips with his. She was surprised, but answered the kiss and kissed back. She leant back on the couch, feeling Declan deepening the kiss and holding the side of her face. She reached for his side, caressing it before she ended up just tugging his shirt. Declan trailed the kiss to her jaw when he pulled away.

“What was that?” She smiled, meeting Declan’s blue eyes.m, giggling a bit as she felt butterflies in her stomach.

“Nothing. You just look so cute in my shirt.”

Her smile widened, bottom lip tucked under her teeth as they both looked down to her new favourite West Ham shirt, with Declan’s name and number at the back, that she’d just stolen earlier from Declan’s wardrobe. She had a new hobby of wearing his things.

The Marcus dump was nearly four months ago. It was pretty bleak, to be honest. She showed Marcus the videos Declan and she had taken, and other proof that she’d collected. He was fully ready to defend himself and even accuse her of being a cheater too, saying that she was probably having a thing with Declan behind his back. But she could swear that she’d never done anything over the line with Declan, only best friends things like it had always been, and it was really the truth. She reminded Marcus that he couldn’t point his finger at her, not after everything he’d done.

And she’d been free since then. She was angry and heartbroken, but luckily she had Declan who helped her deal with her feelings and move on. She’d been trying to take it slow with him, but they had been dreaming for this moment for too long, so it all sort of happened naturally. Loving someone and being loved by someone had never felt any better for her.

Maybe she had been a cheater too all this time. She had always kept her feelings for Declan buried, but maybe, without her even realising it or meaning it, sometimes her friendly love for him was more than friendly. She needed to get her heart broken first before she realised that what she’d been looking for had already been there all this time. And maybe, this was all just meant to be.

—

happy birthday, mr. boyfriend, declan rice!<3

this was written a few months ago and i finally got the chance to post it. and yes, i imagined the other mr. boyfriend (marcus rashford) when i wrote this because i was deep in my declan+marcus phase (kinda hard making the sweet man a villain)...but you can imagine anyone! hope you guys enjoy it!

if you want to be on my tag lists, please fill in this form.

[declan rice tag list: @smileytaa @delicateearthquakellama @luvelyxp @mountchilly @muglermami @mehrmonga @landosmilkjug @koufaxx @blueanfield]

My Masterlist🤍

[thesewordsareallihavetogive]

ch. 2: A Safe Place to Land - Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x nurse!reader

Summary: 2.1k words. After an unexpected breakup with her long-term boyfriend, y/n had one goal: to keep her head down and finish her travel nursing contract as soon as possible. That was until Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw derailed her plan entirely. Just as y/n finished picking up the pieces of her broken heart, Rooster came along and showed y/n what it’s like to be loved again–if only she’ll let him in.

Warnings: Rooster’s sweaty abs & tooth-rotting fluff

a/n: hi!! first of all–thank you all SO MUCH for the overwhelming support & love for this series! i’m so happy y’all are just as excited ab it as i am! the comments, reblogs, & tags really keep me going ❤️ enjoy & lmk what you think!

series master list | master list

After their date at The Hard Deck, Rooster and y/n started talking pretty often. Despite their busy schedules that hadn’t allowed them to see each other in person, they grew close. Late night phone calls and random texts throughout the day become a common occurrence for the two.

Rooster prided himself on being discreet and keeping his personal life separate from his work life, but he evidently didn’t have as good of a poker face as he thought he did. Between training sessions, during breaks, and even when he was out at The Hard Deck with his fellow aviators, he was often grinning like a fool while looking at his phone.

“You got a girl we don’t know about, Rooster?” Hangman teased from across the pool table and pointed his cue stick towards Rooster’s phone.  Rooster shot Hangman a harmless glare before tucking his phone into his back pocket.

“Not exactly…” Rooster trailed off. His non-denial had Phoenix and Payback raising their eyebrows and sharing a curious glance. Hangman, Coyote, and Fanboy wore matching devious grins while Bob sat in the corner with a small knowing smile on his face.

Rooster’s attention turned back to the game of pool after Hangman’s teasing, but his mind was still on y/n.

A few rough shifts back-to-back had y/n craving a break and some well deserved relaxation. Weeks of spending her days off binge-watching Netflix in between naps soon grew old, so she went out instead. Considering she’d be living along the California coast for the foreseeable future–at least until her contract was over–she decided to take advantage of the beach.

It just so happened that Rooster’s coworkers-turned-friend group were at the same beach that day, unbeknownst to y/n. After Maverick’s team building exercise months ago, trips to the beach and subsequent football games became a regular occurrence for the group of aviators.

y/n found a quieter uncrowded section of the beach to lay her towel down with her small bag and water bottle in tow. It didn’t take long for the warmth of the sun and gentle crashing of the waves to lull y/n into a peaceful nap before she even got a chance to open the book she’d brought along. An hour or so later, she was startled awake by someone shouting “Look out!” from the distance while a pair of thundering footsteps ran towards her. The glare from the sun as y/n opened her eyes from her nap momentarily blinded her and she missed the football flying straight towards her. The ball narrowly missed her, but her water bottle didn’t have the same luck. With a pathetic clunk the bottle toppled over and spilled water onto the sand around y/n.

y/n huffed, ready to chew out whoever came to retrieve the football but the words got caught in her throat when she looked up and saw none other than Bradley Bradshaw.

“Damn, looks like I owe you another drink, darlin’,” Rooster greeted, relieved to see the frustration leave her face once she recognized him.

“It seems so, Lieutenant,” y/n responded, her disappointment about her spilled drink quickly forgotten. y/n’s poker face fell short for the umpteenth time around Rooster as her sunglasses slid down her nose and she admired the very sweaty, very sexy pilot standing above her. The feeling was evidently mutual when y/n caught Rooster letting his eyes drag down her bikini-clad body. y/n cleared her throat to get Rooster’s attention again and he realized he’d been caught. He hoped his increasingly red-tinted ears could be blamed on the sun, but y/n saw right through him. The man was blushing.

Rooster recovered quickly though. Seeing as he’d already been caught checking y/n out, he saw no reason to hide his attraction towards her.

“You’re so beautiful,” Rooster exhaled. The man sounded whipped, and maybe he was, but he’d been dying to see her and let her know how he felt since the moment he watched her leave The Hard Deck. This time it was y/n’s turn to blush, practically swooning at the aviator’s admission. She hummed in appreciation and finally pushed herself up to a seated position before returning the compliment.

“Thanks, Adonis,” a cheeky grin spread across y/n’s face as she flirted with Rooster. She momentarily considered standing to be closer to his eye level, but he had her weak in the knees. Before Rooster could quip back, he was cut off by a distant shout.

“C’mon, Rooster! What’s the hold up?” Payback called out while waiting for Rooster to return with the football.

“I’m coming!” Rooster shouted over his shoulder, briefly and begrudgingly tearing his eyes away from y/n. y/n smiled as she handed Rooster the football, noting the way his fingers brushed across hers. Rooster maintained their eye contact for a moment longer, just taking in y/n’s features.

“Are you free tonight?” y/n nodded with a smile. “Alright, I’ll text you then,” a coy smile spread across Rooster’s face and he pointed the football towards y/n before jogging back towards his friends. y/n opted to read her book instead of taking another nap, but she didn’t get very far. She found herself looking up and staring at Bradley in the distance, appreciating the way he cheered when his team scored a touchdown and how happy he was.

In between football plays, Hangman caught Rooster staring back at the woman he retrieved the football from earlier.

“Is that the reason you’ve been smiling at your phone all the time?” the cocky blonde asked with a grin, gesturing towards y/n in the distance. Phoenix elbowed Hangman in the ribs, though she was curious herself. Rooster threw the ball towards Hangman, aiming for his face. Of course, Hangman anticipated the dirty throw and caught the ball with expert precision, giving him an unnecessary ego boost.

“Shut up,” Rooster quipped while failing to hide his smile.

Not long after y/n got home from spending a few hours at the beach, her phone pinged with a text notification.

4:32 p.m.   Hey, are you still free tonight? I’d love to get dinner together - Rooster 🐓

4:33 p.m.  Are you asking me on a second date already? You might lead me to thinking you like me, Lieutenant - y/n

4:33 p.m.   That’s the goal, darlin’ - Rooster 🐓

A soft smile played at y/n’s lips as she texted Rooster and ironed out the details of their date. She agreed to let him pick her up at six before they went to a beachfront restaurant Rooster thought y/n would love. By the time they wrapped up their conversation, y/n was left with just under an hour and a half to get ready.

Sure enough, Bradley knocked on her front door at exactly six o’clock. y/n expected they’d be leaving immediately, but her heart swelled when he stood at her door with a dozen roses in hand. If she wasn’t swooning before, she certainly was now.

The pair drove to the restaurant in Rooster’s old Ford Bronco. A comfortable summer breeze flowed through the open windows and soft music played over the speakers. The ocean view from the causeway was breathtaking, but that wasn’t the view Bradley was focused on. His eyes were on the road of course, but he couldn’t help the way they flitted towards his and y/n’s joined hands or towards y/n when she started humming along with the radio.

Just as Rooster promised, y/n loved the restaurant he brought her to. It was a little Mom and Pop diner that overlooked the ocean and according to Rooster, their burgers were legendary. It was far enough away from the base and main city that it was mostly frequented by the residents of the sleepy beach town it was located in, rather than tourists or Navy personnel, much to y/n’s relief. One milkshake, a basket of fries, and a burger later, y/n told Rooster that he was absolutely right: the burgers were legendary. The victorious grin that spread across the aviator’s face was infectious and eventually the pair dissolved into senseless laughter.

When their server dropped off the bill, y/n started to protest when Rooster reached for it and pulled his wallet out. The pointed look he delivered let her know there was no room for argument and the words died on her lips. y/n typically wasn’t a fan of other people paying for her things. She was a grown woman and made her own money, but more than anything, she didn’t want something as simple as paying for a beer or meal being held over her head by a guy. It happened too many times in the past–unfortunately in the recent past with her ex-boyfriend–but something told y/n that she didn’t have to worry about Bradley taking advantage of her.

The sunset painted the sky in striking shades of orange and pink above the horizon as Rooster and y/n took a walk on the beach after their dinner, fingers interlaced. The gentle rush of waves against their feet and the quiet breeze brought a unique kind of peace that only the ocean can. After everything that happened with her ex, y/n was dreading the move to California. Now? She wouldn’t rather be anywhere else in the world, she thought as she squeezed Bradley’s hand.

Conversation between the two flowed smoothly, just as it had at The Hard Deck and every moment since. After spending countless hours calling and texting each other over the past couple weeks, y/n would’ve thought they might run out of conversation topics, but they never did. Things were always easy with Rooster. Things felt right for the first time in a long time.

Rooster was too caught up admiring the way y/n looked in her sundress to notice she was gearing up to kick up a bit of water towards his shins in a teasing manner. The sea breeze had other plans though, as the salty droplets were soon redirected directly towards his face by a strong gust of wind. Rooster’s jaw dropped in surprise as the water slid down his face. y/n, also in shock, did a terrible job at hiding the laughter shaking through her body as her hands rested on her knees. Rooster got a devious idea of his own to get even. Before y/n could stop him, he scooped her up in his arms and began tickling her sides.

“ROOSTER! Oh my gosh, put me down!” y/n pleaded in between fits of laughter. Her gleeful shouts could be heard down the beach as the pair stumbled in the water. Bradley found comfort and satisfaction in knowing he could make y/n so happy. Rooster was relentless in his tickle attack, making mental notes of the spots y/n was especially sensitive. y/n’s sides started aching from all the laughter, but she was still smiling wide in between begging to be put down.

Rooster finally gave in and effortlessly spun y/n around before carefully placing her back down. His arms stayed gently wrapped around her waist even after he was sure she was steady on her feet again. In the suddenly quiet moment, y/n and Rooster both found their gazes flitting between each other’s eyes and lips. Bradley was the first to give in when he pressed his lips against y/n’s in a soft kiss. He was so careful with her as he gently caressed her back and supported her chin while his lips moved against hers. The kiss was far too short for y/n’s liking, so when they pulled apart to look into each other’s eyes and catch their breaths, y/n took it upon herself to initiate the next kiss.

y/n’s approach was far from gentle as she grabbed Rooster’s shirt collar to bring his lips level with hers. The kiss was passionate–all tongue and teeth and quiet moans. y/n crossed her arms behind Rooster’s neck to pull herself closer and the aviator followed her lead, tightly wrapping his arms around y/n’s waist to pull her flush against his chest. 

The kiss was good, like y/n curling her toes into the sand good. When the pair finally pulled away they were dizzy and breathless, their chests quickly rising and falling from the recent lack of oxygen. Rooster firmly decided exactly what he’d do with his last breath if given the choice; kissing y/n would be the most dreamy way to go.

a/n: as always, comments & reblogs are appreciated! xx

[visionofhope04]

Neglected - Part 5

Sorry for the long wait! I just kinda didn’t really know how to make the reader’s and Jason’s conversation go but I got it! This is the last part of the series!!! I’m going to start working on a story based on this headcannon now. By the way, requests are open! Just no smut. Hope you enjoy!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 (Current)

---

You had just got home after that long interview. It had taken about 45 minutes and you were exhausted. You didn’t know how you managed to make it through 10 minutes of it. The first few minutes were definitely tense and you knew the press would eat it up. You planned to come clean about your so called family in an interview, but you didn’t plan for it to be the first one ever. You couldn’t control your mouth and the truth just poured out of you. You were glad the interviewer dropped the subject when you asked.

After setting your things down, you dropped onto the couch and lifted your hand above your head. You were staring at the ceiling and contemplating life when your phone rang. You reluctantly hopped off the couch and sprinted to get it. You found it, accepted the call, and then held it to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hello Y/N, I just saw your interview. Care to explain why you didn’t tell me about it and Y/G/N?”

“Jason! I’m sorry-”

“Y/N I’m so proud of you." You were so shocked, you almost dropped your phone.

“What? You’re not mad I outed the family?” You said in disbelief.

“No, of course not! Why would I be mad? If anything, I’m glad you did that to them. They deserve it. I'm just a little disappointed you didn't tell me about Y/G/N.”

"Well to be fair it was all over the news."

"Well, I haven't had time to check lately."

“Touche. By the way, how is everyone?”

“Don’t know, don’t care. I only tolerate them for the sake of the city.”

“Oh, okay well- wait, what happens if they find out about what I said?! They’re gonna ruin my image, the career that I literally just started, and practically the rest of my life! I-”

“Woah, calm down, relax. They won’t ruin anything.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“They won’t. Trust me. If they do try anything it will be suspicious. No one would believe them.”

You noticed it had become late and you really wanted to take a nap, so you decided it was time to hang up.

“I love you Jason, thank you for everything. I’m exhausted from that interview and I’d like to get a few hours of sleep in.”

“I love ya too sis, just don’t forget me alright?”

“How could I? I’ll talk to you later.”

“Alright, don’t forget. Bye."

“Bye.”

Jason hung up and you placed your phone back down. You made your way to your room and gathered (the clothes u sleep with cuz we don’t judge here) and prepared to shower and then finally take a nap.

---

Timothy Drake sat at the desk in his room, working on cases and occasionally sipping the coffee he had made ten minutes prior. It was 4 PM and he had been working nonstop since he got back from patrol. He opened a new tab on his laptop and saw something rather concerning pop up. It was an article titled “THE WAYNES AREN’T WHO YOU THINK THEY ARE…” Tim clicked on the article and began to read.

---

Bruce had been working in his office when suddenly Tim barged through the door. Bruce’s head snapped up in alarm.

“Look at this!” Tim screeched.

“What is it?” Bruce asked as Tim stomped over to his desk and handed him the laptop.

“Y/N…” Bruce grumbled in annoyance. “Can you remove the article or at least hide it?”

“No, it would look too suspicious. It’s already viral and if it suddenly disappeared people would suspect we had something to do with it.”

“Ugh. Inform Dick and Damian about it. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Okay.” Tim agreed as he quickly snatched his laptop from Bruce and ran back to his room.

---

“What!?” Dick Grayson was shocked. Timothy had just filled him in on the whole news incident Y/N had caused. He was furious. How could Y/N do such a thing and not know how badly her words would hurt their reputation! She was just overreacting and now people would believe her lies. “What’s B going to do?”

“I don’t know, he said he’s taking care of it.”

“Alright, I’ll let Damian know.”

---

"What?" Damian said in shock. Dick had called him while he was walking Titus and explained the situation. How and why would you do this to them? Did you not know how badly this would affect them???

"B says he's taking care of it. Don't worry about it much Dami."

That eased his worries a bit. "Okay, goodbye Grayson."

---

You were startled awake by the sound of your phone ringing. Groaning, you got up and went to retrieve your phone. On the way there, you glanced at the clock and noticed the time. You had slept for way longer than you meant to. Assuming it was someone from Y/G/N checking on you, you answered.

“Hello?”

"Y/N, you can't talk about us like that-"

You cut Bruce off. "I can and I will." You then hung up on him.

You felt a sense of pride wash over you. You were proud of how far you've come over the years. Before you wouldn't dare disobey Bruce. But now you had the courage to cut him off and hang up on him! You then blocked his number as well as Dick's, Tim's, and Damian's.

---

For the next few months, they tried to contact you in every way they knew how. Unfortunately for them, you knew exactly how to avoid and ignore them. They tried to cancel you and make the public believe you were lying. That backfired on them due to Jason exposing their lies and confirming that they did in fact neglect you.

Wayne Enterprises' business started to drop by landslides. Not to the point of bankruptcy but to the point where they were no longer in the top 100. The public started to support you more and Y/G/N gained even more popularity. You were so happy about everything and all the support you were receiving.

Alfred had called you one day congratulating you. He apologized for not trying to get to know you and for letting them treat you that way. He asked if you would like to meet up with him sometime and start to get to know each other. You forgave him and agreed to meet up with him.

Bruce, Dick, Tim, and Damian never bothered you anymore after that and you finally got your happy ending.

---

I DID IT! ITS HERE! IT'S FINISHED! AAAAAAAAAAAA!!!! I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED THIS!!! THANK YOU ALL FOR BEING SO SUPPORTIVE!!! If you're on the current tag list please let me know if you'd like to be tagged in all of my future DC works since this series is finished or if you'd like to just be tagged in certain works that only involve certain characters. If you want to be tagged in future works of mine please send it through asks.

Tag list: @fake-id-69 @pepelachanel @loxbbg @what-0-life @yoongi-holland @omnivorousfangirl @cawcaw-pretty-thing @sexysamsungl @iceddonuts @buginetye @portrait-ninja @azazel-nyx @alculai @whitemanswhore14