#Link would absolutely not let that fly

[morimess]

I finally figured out what I want to do with the imposter wind waker for TBABS.

[anxiouslypretty5]

Combined like 3 methods and got results like instantly + some tips.

its not my first time getting in the void state so i’ll just tell you the methods i used

distraction technique

lullaby method

my own little method called the subway surfers method

you already know what to do with the distraction method since its made by @luckykiwiii101 the lullaby method was created by divineangelbee but her account has been deactivated for a LONGGG time but its on my page, i have a link to it (just go look at my page) and my subway surfers method is just me visualizing myself in subway surfers and instead of grabbing coins i would grab gift boxes that held all my desires and then after grabbing all the gifts of everything i wanted i would eventually run into a black void (aka the void state and then i would induce it)

but i’ll get to my desires i manifested TRUST just let me tell you how i combined these methods PUHLEASE?!

okay so we all know that the infamous distraction technique involves you having to be DISTRACTED right? and that the lullaby method slightly requires you to be in a sleepy state right..?????? RIGHT??? well all i simply did was get into a sleepy state which was like 20 minutes ago when i wanted to take a nap and i used the distraction technique and combined it with my subway surfers method. after vividly imagining myself in subway surfers and collecting all the gifts and stuff and running into my void thats when i felt my body float. because i would just imagine myself free falling after running into the void.

(i assumed for all of this to happen btw!!! and guess what it happened! *i say loudly for the people in the back who are insufferably dense*)

okayyy so whatever now i’ll get to what i manifested since you’re rushing me..

adriana lima and a jennie popularity effect (from blackpink)

the super cool reverse technique from life is strange

flowers blooming everywhere i walk + nature loving my presence

not being allergic to absolutely anything

my hair now reaching my knees

my life being similar to multiple shows (Tvd, when i fly towards you, alice in borderland) + guys i know it may sound a bit crazy but i added safety precautions before hand

better photographer

fluent in a few languages (italian, french, japanese, vietnamese, arabic and haitian)

better climate

being better at volleyball and badminton

MORREEEEE flexible (i do a bit of gymnastics and ballet)

knowing how to figure skate

and i manifested like a trillion other things but i DONTTT have time to type that all since im gonna go back to sleep and you’re probably wondering “who goes back to sleep after manifesting so much stuff?” me. because manifesting is like a fling to me + i embrace lazy manifesting so every time i manifest something i don’t shoot glitter out of my eyes. i give myself a little applaud and go on with my day.

bye now. also heres your tips since i know my dms will be flooded again in 3 minutes…

[blacknailsandheartbreak]

Part 2 to how the group cannot fathom how you and Zuko are so close with your angel of a self and Zuko being... well, Zuko

AN: OKAY! Look at me go, coming out with a part two. I think I might do a part two to some previous pieces of mine but we will see.

SO this is a part two, so you can read the first one here, it will give some context clues into this second part of the story (but can probably be read solo) : Part 1

Any who, ~2300 word count, enjoy :)

KIDDIE FREE ZONE

Good Friends

That's all you guys were. Good Friends. Zuko kept telling himself he had no reason to be so bothered by that statement, but he was. He didn't want to be just good friends, but you had given a better answer then he would have in your position. But now the Gaang has been flying for the past couple days and has given him lots of time for thinking. Especially having you for the majority of the time sitting with him leaning against his arm, grazing legs, as you were not shy to the general touch. You always seemed to start up the conversations with him, your way of speech held him in interest, but as already known, he never said much back, but always was happy to listen.

But ever since that last night of camp a few days ago he cannot let the thought go. Good Friends. He knew that the talks you two have, the moments you both cherish, and the secrets you two shared was enough of a connection to be more than just good friends, or at least in his mind it was. You two were absolutely glued to the hip, and seemed to be together, just without the title. Zuko was fine with no title, he would rather the group didn't know but for you two to have that clarity is what he was craving. He knew there were other things that were more important at the moment but it couldn't calm down in his mind. He had to know, he wanted to be together. Even if that became another secret you both shared he would gladly add it to the pile.

As the afternoon began to fall fast on the fourth day of travel, the Gaang was running low on rations and decided to hit the next market in the upcoming town. Upon arrival, Aang and Sokka grabbed Zuko to tackle their list as Katara and Toph grabbed you to get the remaining items. Zuko was hoping to buddy up with you but it would have to wait. As the group divided and conquered, Sokka was getting very nosy with Zuko about a certain someone. Zuko ignored all of his questions or what felt like more accusations. Meanwhile the girls had finished with their tasks and Toph had somehow gotten into a gambling match with the remaining money they had and won every time. You stood back leaning against a nearby wall smiling, not wanting anything to do with the situation but you weren't going to interfere either. You feel a brush against your shoulder and look up to see Zuko, you smile and greet Aang and Sokka. You ask how their huntings went and they all agreed it had gone well. Zuko looked at you and asked if Toph and Katara were seriously gambling the little money they had left. You laughed and were about to answer but before you could Toph came over with a large bag and tossed it at Zuko. He caught it effortlessly, and it jingled heavily. All of the boys eyes widened, and Toph said "We will be sleeping well tonight thanks to yours truly."

The Gaang walked around the town as the night grew darker and the many street lamps glowed near and far, Zuko's mind still buzzing with the taunting thought of good friends. Maybe he was over thinking it and there was already an unspoken agreement you two were together? Or was he being weird and obsessive? Or maybe you had a completely different view on all of it? Or maybe-

His thoughts were cut off by you linking your arm through his and pointing out the beautiful lights, from the shops, to concessions, to the fountains, to the groups of lively people. He looked down at you and for the first time, he wasn't really listening to you. He just looked at you, looked at your smile as if you knew this moment was made just for you. He would forever be in awe at how effortlessly you spoke as if you had already rehearsed it one hundred times. He feels your genuine happiness and spirit in your eyes as you look up at him and he wonders how you hold such grace through everything. All his thoughts left his mind as he looked at you and thought, yeah, that is my girl.

Once the Gaang decided to call it a night, you all looked for an Inn to stay at for the night. There was not much of an option in the small town, so you all entered the closest place and the lady at the front desk greeted you all with a warm smile. Aang went to talk with the lady and brought back a handful of keys. Everyone was confused as he handed everyone their own key and explained that they only had single rooms left for the night. Nobody really complained as everyone seemed they could use some time to themselves. Everyone shuffled into their rooms with quick goodnights, but before Zuko walked through his door, he looked over his shoulder at your direction, and there you were. Walking into your room and almost as if you felt his eyes you looked over your shoulder and stopped for a moment, you smiled at Zuko and gave a small wave of goodnight before stepping into your room and closing the door. Zuko's eyes stayed on your room for a moment longer, before a small tap on his shoulder made him spin around. It was Katara. Zuko was lost for words. Katara smiled and whispered "I won't tell, not that is isn't already so obvious, but you should really talk to her." Before Zuko could respond to her she waved goodnight and walked into her room. He stood in the hallway like a man who was shot and was too afraid to move. He looked back at your door, he felt the longing in every part of his being to just go and knock on your door and say everything he has been thinking just like you do. How you so effortlessly say exactly what you're thinking, that is what he wanted to do. He wanted to tell you what it meant to him to have someone like you become so close to someone like him. He wanted to tell you that the secrets you both shared with each other meant the world to him and he would take them to his very grave if you wished so. He wanted to tell you that every time you smiled it felt like it was for him and him only. But he didn't. He walked back into his room and shut the door.

Zuko got ready for bed and laid down for a few minutes, he tossed and turned and his chest felt so heavy. He let out a sigh as he laid on his back and placed a hand on his chest with the other one behind his head. He stared up at the ceiling. Zuko let out a small grunt of frustration when he got up, deciding to go get some water. He grabbed the bucket from the small table in the room and walked towards the door. Zuko grabbed the bridge of his nose in exasperation and pulled his hand down his face, he went and opened the door and to his complete shock, there you stood. You looked almost as surprised as he did. You both stood in silence for a moment, and for the first time, Zuko spoke first. He asked if you were alright, because the last thing he expected was for you to be standing at his door in the middle of the night. You replied softly, saying you were ok, just had a lot on your mind. You noticed Zuko holding the bucket for water and offered to go with him to fetch some, he agreed. This time you both walked in silence to retrieve the water and walked in silence back to the rooms. You both came to stand outside Zuko's room and he asked if you were sure you were ok, and you replied that you were, probably just over tired. Zuko looked at you and asked you if you wanted to come into his room. You smiled softly and insisted you didn't want to intrude. He didn't respond and just motioned you inside, you accepted and walked in, Zuko shut the door behind you.

Zuko grabbed the ladle and poured you some water while you sat on the bed, he handed you the cup. You smiled and thanked him as you grabbed the cup and took a sip. Zuko sits next to you and rests his elbows on his thighs and looks down between his knees to the floor, he's not sure how he wants to go about tonight. He has no idea where to start, no idea how to talk or truly express his thoughts. He worries about sounding like a bumbling fool compared to your angelic soft spoken way of words. But before he could think further, the bed shifted and you were now directly beside Zuko with your head leaning on his shoulder. He looked up and he knew he wanted this, he wanted to be the one to call you his. He wanted to be by your side every step of the way and watch you regain the pride of being a fire bender. He wanted to have you by his side helping him with the path of change after the comet, and he didn't want to do it as good friends, he wanted to do it together. Zuko took in a deep breath, and asked "Do you really think we are just good friends?" and without a breath missed you replied "I knew your ears were on fire that night." you sat up with that comment, Zuko smirked and chuckled, you two were very close now, mere inches from each other's faces. "But no..." you replied, "I don't think we are just good friends, do you?" Zuko looked into your eyes, they seemed to shimmer the most beautiful shade of amber even with the liminal lighting in the room. "I don't think so either." He replied. Zuko saw your eyes dart to his lips and back to his eyes but the second your gaze connected back with his, he was already pulling you into a kiss. He put his hand just under your ear, along your jaw, pulling you in gently, as if giving you an option to back out. But you didn't, you leaned in and placed your hand on his arm and you kissed deep. Zuko lavished in this moment and if there was any way he could pull you in even closer he would. You pulled away first and looked at Zuko, he looked at you with so many emotions, "We are together." he stated. You smiled so wide and nodded, for the first time you were speechless and practically tackled Zuko to the bed, kissing him so deeply while he gladly reciprocated with the same action. You were straddling Zuko as he effortlessly flipped you over on the bed so he was now on top, you placed both your hands on his jaw and leaned up to give him a small kiss and then laid back down. "Would you stay with me tonight?" Zuko asked, you smiled, "Of course I will, I thought you'd never ask." Zuko rolls his eyes and leans down for a kiss but you halt his actions by asking, "What about the others, they will see me leaving your-" Zuko cuts you off with a soft kiss and after responds "I don't care, they can make their own assumptions." You smile so happily and nod your head, "But, they are going to ask questions-" you started but again Zuko cut you off before you can overthink, "So answer them however you want to, however you feel is right." He leans down and kisses you so romantically, and moves to your cheek, and down to your jaw, and making his way to your neck, you let out the smallest gasp. You could feel tingles all throughout your body, from your fingertips to your toes. This was the moment you were both waiting for, Zuko knew this is what he wanted, he wanted you now, tomorrow, the day after that, the months that follow and the years to come. You were his as much he was yours. He gave himself to you that night as you gave yourself to him. Both vulnerable to one another, savouring each movement, each touch, every breath you both shared. The night was exactly what you both wanted, it was what you both needed.

The next morning Zuko woke up with you laying on his chest and his arms wrapped around you. Both of you spent the morning getting ready and just smiling at each other, no lingering feeling or questions of what ifs. You could both just be together.

It was time to check out and continue the journey, so you both gathered all your belongings and walked to the door. You both stopped and you looked at Zuko, "They are going to ask." you stated, and Zuko looked right back at you, "Then answer." he replied. He opened the door and the Gaang was waiting in the hall. Katara was the first to see you both exit and she tried to hide her smile with a polite hand, the others turned to look and were caught a blank. Zuko shut the door with you standing by his side. You greeted everyone and you both walked towards the group, "What are you all staring at, let's head out." Zuko said so nonchalantly, everyone stood in silence for a second longer and proceeded on like nothing happened.

[cuteandhughesy]

When The Seasons Change | Luke Hughes

summary: each season comes and with each one, you're falling deeper in love with your best friend. 4 + 1

11.0+k

warnings: SFW!friends to lovers | slow burn | flirting | fluff | suggestive themes | kissing | read at your own discretion

link to masterlist

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september 9th, 2015

dear diary <3

it's y/n again and today i'm feeling a bit...funny. the day started absolutely amazing! it was my best friends luke 11th birthday party! I can't believe he's 11 and in two more months i'll also be 11.

anyways :) his party was a girl boy party and we all went to the arcade that luke and I have always wanted to go to together but we couldn't because of jack and quinn's hockey.

it was a really fun day and luke loved the sidney crosby shirt I picked for him. but the reason i'm feeling funny is because of lacey patterson. lacey is in our class and was invited to the arcade as well. I thought she had a crush on matthew but the whole time she wouldn't leave luke alone. she was always around like an annoying little fly. lacey kept taking all of luke's attention away from me.

i'm feeling jealous, diary. because luke is....special. his soft curly hair and his bright eyes and when he smiles I get ladybugs in my stomach. I love my best friend and now that lacey likes him I can't help but feel angry.

how and I suppose to grow up and marry luke if lacey is in the way???!!!

one: valentine's day

"it was a disaster," you sigh loudly, pushing your way into luke's apartment as he pulls open the threshold of the door. you toss your small pink bag on his counter top and slump into a bar stool, "I mean a breakfast date? I'm not even sure why I agreed to do that with him in the first place- I barely know the guy and breakfast certainly isn't the place to get to know him."

luke slowly makes his way over to you, still rubbing the sleep out of his eye with the palm of his hand. "I shouldn't say I told you so, but," he says sleepily, pausing to grab a bowl out of the kitchen cupboard, "I told you so."

you groan, dropping your head into your hands. "I really need to listen to you more," you admit, eyes flicking upwards as you watch luke pour himself a healthy sized amount of shreddies. you hate the cereal, you think it taste like dry wheat. luke has always loved shreddies though, so you always have some at the ready. plus, it's the only cereal luke's professional athlete diet allows.

he shrugs with a cheeky smirk.

"not only did he only talk about himself and refer to me as a 'female'," you air quote the condescending title and luke shudders between spoonfuls of cereal. you continue, "but he asked me how much money I make and spilt his orange juice on me - on valentine's day of all days. I swear i'm never spending valentine's day with a man again."

luke wipes the drip of milk off his mouth with the back of his hand, sending you a questioning look, "not even me?"

"you don't count, obviously, or I wouldn't be here." you raise your brows in his direction, as if if to say duh.

luke smirks again but shoves more cereal in his mouth to try and mask it. "right, okay, guys an asshole - so you ended the awkward valentines breakfast to head here at..." he trails off, eyes finding the digital clock on his and jack's shared stove for the first time that morning. "8:56 in the morning - jesus is this guy 80?"

"I wish," you huff, "an eighty year old would probably of kept his nose out of my bank account."

luke snickers, dropping his dirty bowl in the sink.

"do something with me today?" you plead, leaning across the counter top so you can poke his muscular side. "don't let my valentines makeup go to waste."

luke tiredly glances over to you, taking note of how there's a little pink glitter sprinkled across your eyelids and how your usual lip colour was replaced with a more pink toned shade. your smile all cheesy at him and it has luke breaking out of his thoughts - blinking hard.

"how does lunch and the movies sound?" he asks after a moment of pondering. "i'm sure there's some sappy romantic movie playing."

you scoff at his tone, "hey! I love those sappy romantic movies."

"I know," he hums, leaning against the counter infront of you. "that's why I suggested it."

you place your head in your palm, looking up at your best friend fondly as he practically leans over you. "you're the best lukey," you say after a moment, a gentle smile on your face.

he shrugs and the action has his sleep shirt lifting to reveal his toned v-line and happy trail. you don't let your eyes linger, quickly darting your vision away before you turn red.

luke's expression changes briefly, and it looks like he may say something but the sound of jacks bedroom door clicking open has him stopping - eyes darting to the hallway just as his brother shuffles out.

jacks eyes find yours as you sit comfortably in his bar stool. he admits a big yawn and wide stretch before mumbling - "I should've known it was you making all this noise."

he rounds into the kitchen, flicking on the kettle to boil himself some water for his beloved morning coffee.

"ha ha," you say sarcastically.

"why the fuck does it smell like orange juice in here." jack mumbles.

"oh god," you cry out, grabbing your bag and sliding off the stool. now that luke's eyes are properly open and he's aware of his conscious, he sees how your white jeans have an orange liquid stain on the leg. luke smiles fondly as your cheeks tinge pink, brushing past him and his brother and towards the front door, "i'm going home and changing!"

luke laughs gently, following behind you. "i'll text you when i'm leaving here."

"sounds great," you breath out, a smile making its way onto your face. "wear pink," you tease him, shimming your shoulder in his direction.

"happy valentine's day," jack calls out from the kitchen. you catch sight of him shuffling his way past the door and back down the hall, a steaming mug in his hands.

you meet luke's eyes again and hes still looking at you, leaning against the door in his morning glory - plaid pyjama pants hanging low and his arms crossed to make all his muscles stretch deliciously. "happy valentine's day," luke mimics his brother in a fond whisper.

"happy valentine's day," you repeat. "i'll see you later."

"you will." luke says.

when you get back to your apartment complex, marianne, the front desk receptionist, flags you over before you can reach the elevator - her bright red lipstick and heart bobble head band instantly making you smile.

"you have a delivery," she says, pushing a massive vase full of red roses in your direction.

you're momentarily in a state of shock, staring at the bouquet of flowers dumbfounded. "are you sure they're for me?" you splutter after a moment.

marianne nods joyfully, a finger running over one of the delicate pedals. "oh yes, honey! delivery man dropped them off real early this morning."

you pluck the crisp white card from its slot, quickly opening the small envelope with slightly shaky fingers - anxiously wanting to reveal the mystery behind the roses.

just incase your breakfast date doesn't get you flowers. I hope you get all the ladybugs in your stomach today, y/n/n. happy valentine's day.

love, lukey.

two: easter

"you two seriously need to quit this," quinn's voice is a mix of bordem and amusement, eyeing you and luke. "it's every year." quinn concludes, jack nodding in silent agreement as he bites into a chocolate egg.

"quit and willingly loose to luke?" you thumb over your shoulder to the tallest hughes brother - who is standing diagonally behind you with his arms crossed. "absolutely not."

jack tries to hit you with a chocolate egg, but it misses your body - you send him an accusing glare before quinn starts again.

"guys, seriously it's just an egg hunt." he deadpans, eyes dancing between his brother and you.

"it's not just an egg hunt," luke says matter of factly. his arms fall to his sides and he steps closer to you, the fabric of his flannel brushing your exposed shoulder. "it's one of the only times I get to prove to everyone I am the superior egg finder."

competitively, you roll your eyes. luke has been using that line since one of the very first easters you had spent together.

when you were 5 years old, your family moved to your now home city and into the two story house neighbouring the hughes' home. it was almost instantly that you and luke become close - after he got over how'd you'd aimlessly follow him around and want to be near him (you liked the leafs just like him so he liked you soon after).

your parents become very close with ellen and jim and it become a tradition to spend easter together - enjoying the festive meal and activities. even now with quinn in a different country and you, jack and luke all in jersey, you would all find yourself making it home for the easter dinner and egg hunt.

which leads you into your second ever holiday spent with the hughes family - the first egg hunt you had won. luke claimed to his family after they had teased him that he let you win and was, in fact, the superior egg hunter. obviously, you couldn't let that slide and you're still battling luke in your early twenties for the title of egg hunt champion.

"you wish," you tease luke, "a superior egg hunter would of brought proper footwear to ensure they could get down and dirty." slowly, your eyes flicker to luke's feet, eyeing the crisp white air forces that were bound to get filthy.

luke scoffs, taking a step towards you. "oh trust me - i'm ready to get dirty."

"is this how kids flirt now?" jacks voice is like a nail to your eardrum and you quickly take a step away from luke, making your way to the island and grabbing your bunny shaped bucket.

"it's called smack talk," luke answers his brother sharply, also grabbing his egg basket - a bright yellow whicker bin with fuzzy chicks hot glued to the handle: he's been using it forever. "this is a competition."

"it's really not," quinn mutters, hands shoved in his jean pockets as he leans into the kitchen island.

just before you or luke could scold the eldest hughes, ellen makes her way through the back door, her pink floral maxi skirt swaying around her ankles. "you guys coming out?" she questions you all, her brows raised expectantly. "all the young kids are ready."

"oh," luke snickers, "i'm ready."

"we are all ready," you correct, eyeing your best friend briefly.

she smiles fondly, her small hands clasping together - ellen hughes would never get tired of seeing you and all her boys together on the holidays. "the eggs are all hidden - don't forget the winner gets the chocolate bunny!" she sing songs, guiding you all to the large backyard decorated in pastels and flowers.

"see," luke hums, jamming his elbow into his oldest brothers side, "told you it was a competition."

"oh my god."

after a brief speech from ellen, you were informed the oldest kids (you, luke, jack and quinn) would be searching for the blue coloured eggs and the younger kids (consisting mostly of hughes' cousins) would be searching for yellow eggs. the yellow eggs were hidden in easier spots but jim and your dad had ensured the blue eggs were in more difficult places.

10 minutes into the hunt, you've secured 6 of the possible 17 blue easter eggs. you wander further down the large property, eyes frantically searching for more to add to your collection. it isn't long before you catch a glimpse of bright blue - the small egg nestled between a few branches up in one of the trees. you're suprised you could even see it through the leaves, but the sun catches the egg once more and you're positive you're not imagining it.

with a determined head, you place your bucket on the ground near the stump of the tree before grabbing ahold of the lowest branch. you use all your strength to start hauling yourself up the tree, climbing upwards through the leaves and branches.

finally, you reach the height of the easter egg, and you smile victoriously, reaching out to grab it. at your sudden movement, the branch you had been standing on with your one foot gives out, cracking loudly until it snaps downwards. you gasp, hands reaching out to wrap around the thick trunk, watching horrified as your previous spot swings in the air.

you scan the surrounding branches, looking for the most secure one for your full weight - one that wouldn't break off under your feet. there's one behind you that looks promising, so you shift against the trunk, carefully stepping across the gap in the branches until you can fully place your feet on the new one.

you sigh once you feel secure, taking a deep breath to try and let the erratic heart beating in your chest come back to normal. miraculously through your almost plummet back to the ground, you managed to keep ahold of your egg and your gripping that damn blue thing hard, ensuring after all that trouble it wasn't going anywhere.

once your adrenaline levels return to a much more manageable level and the thumping heartbeat in your eardrums subsides, you decide you're ready to start making your journey to the ground - as safe as possible.

you let your one foot steps off, pressing down on a different branch to test its sturdiness. it seems stable enough, and you push off the trunk behind you to help push yourself onto the other branch.

your dress tugs, not allowing you to move over. you frown in confusion, trying to pull away harder. it's no luck, and your eyes close in disbelief. you try and uncomfortably stretch around yourself to catch sight of what the hell was going on and you catch a glimpse of of a sharp broken twig, completely hooked through your dress.

and of course you've left your phone behind on the kitchen island when you decided you'd have to use for it during the egg hunt. you course yourself, making another attempt at wiggling yourself off the ridged twig. it proves to be unsuccessful when you try and move onto the other branch once again and find yourself still being pulled back towards the trunk.

just as you begin to feel waves on panic bubble up your body and tears well up in your eyes, the sound of shuffling below halts your meltdown. you listen more intently, and the melodies of an all too familiar hushed whistle adding to the noise.

luke is wandering around aimlessly, whistling the megan moroney song you had showed him the week prior - clearly he has taken a liking to it as well. he's got his easter basket in his hand, swinging it slightly so his collected eggs roll around.

he is practically right under the tree you're in, and you take the opportunity before it leaves. "luke!" you call your friends name, your voice a mixture between a whisper and a yell - not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention to your very uncomfortable and embarrassing position, luke would surely tease you enough to make up for everyone.

luke's whistling comes to a halt, his body coming to a stand still near the large roots of the tree that were protruding from the soil. he spins around a couple times, looking for you.

a beat passes.

"where are you?" luke questions quietly, doing another 360 of the area. he knows you can't be too far because you sounded close, but not directly beside him. his brows furrow when he can't see anything.

"in the tree - i'm stuck." you huff, eyes closing as the rush of embarrassment comes after admitting your predicament out loud. luke still looks confused and unsure, so you sigh, rustling one of the nearby branches to show him that you were in fact in a tree and not hiding in a nearby bush - planning to ambush him for his eggs.

finally luke catches on, looking up towards the thick branches wide eyed and confused. once he catches sight of you, his previous expression morphes into one of mischief and his lips tug upwards in a gooey smile. "oh! don't you look all cute up there."

you ignore his teasing with a dismissive eye roll, "come up here and help me untangle myself from this damn branch."

luke's eyes wander towards the trunk of the tree, landing on your easter basket that you'd previously abandoned in favour of climbing - your blue eggs starting at him in all their glory. luke hums, slowly looking back towards you - his eyes shimmering with a misbehaved twinkle you're all too familiar with. "nah, I think i'll just take some of these eggs and be on my way."

"lukeeeeee," you whine his name, eyes closing in annoyance- luke could really push your buttons when he wanted to.

your hands are starting to hurt from the bark under you palm, and your ridged posture from being caught by the tree is becoming uncomfortable. "come help meeeee," you whine again, "is this how you're going to treat your best friend?"

when you began to speak, luke has already put down his own easter basket, nestling it beside yours wiped his hands free of any sweat and made his way towards the tree, large fingers wrapping around the first branch as he pulls himself up. "relax, i'm coming."

you watch as he quickly climbs up the tree, resembling a spider monkey as his long limbs wrap around branches and you smile to yourself at the thought of luke as a monkey.

suddenly, you begin to feel embarrassed about your situation. you feel even sillier for getting yourself stuck on a branch, something taht could've been avoidable if you weren't so damn stubborn about a stupid egg hunt. your previous smile of relief turns sour, eyes downcast as luke finally gets to your level.

your face has luke mimicking your frown, brows drawn together as he addresses you. he reaches out for you, running a large hand over your curled hair. "hey, don't worry - you're okay."

you muster one nod in acknowledgment, taking a shaky breath.

"let's see," luke mutters between you, leaning into your personal space to attempt in getting a proper look at the damage - one of his arms wrapping around your body for stability as he peeks over your shoulder. "easy peasy," luke adjusts his body slightly, his chest brushing your bare shoulder as he fiddles with the material of your dress.

you fight off a pleasant shiver, controlling your breathing as his long fingers brush against your soft skin, tickling you in the best way. finally, you feel your dress become loose and fall back into its proper position.

you breathe in relief, your smile returning.

"ta da," luke pulls back, his own smile lighting up his face as he hovers over you. now that you're less stressed, you notice how intimate your and luke's position is. his feet's are slotted between yours in the thick branch, his one arm still around your body while his other one moves to wrap around the trunk, holding you both there - his breath fanning over your face.

"you're welcome." he teases you, snapping you out of your own head.

"thank you." you hum nonchalantly, one of your hands coming up and fixing your hair and be ridding of any stray leaves or baby twigs that may of found their way in there.

"what's my reward?" luke questions gently, head tilted as his tongues slowly darts out, licking his bottom lip.

the air turns thick with a sticky tension, making your spot in the tree feel like it suddenly was located on the sun. quickly, your eyes widen, watching the way luke begins to smirk at your flustered face.

you clear your throat, choosing to not read into any underlying meaning. "one of my easter eggs." you answer firmly, a gentle nod of confidence following suit.

he tongues his cheek. "just one?"

you nod once again, a noise of conformation falling from your lips.

luke hums, eyes not leaving yours as he says - "guess i'll just take more."

because you know your best friend all too well,before he can even attempt to descend back towards the ground, you push of the branch, quickly moving around him and scaling down the trunk. you're suprised at how quick you get to the ground and even more suprised you don't hurt yourself in the process.

just as you grab ahold the fuzzy purple bunny easter basket off the ground, you hear luke thump back onto the grass, a gentle laugh of disbelief falling from his mouth.

you turn on your heels to face him, your basket gripped in your hand as you swing it teasingly out towards him - a victorious and teasing smile on your face.

he kisses his teeth and his eyes dart towards the ground to mask his amused grin. he grabs his own easter basket before making the short distance to you.

"like promised," you say, plucking one of the shiny blue eggs from your basket. "your reward." delicately, you place the egg into luke's basket, adding to his collection of five.

almost immediately, luke grabs the egg you just gave him, placing it back into your basket. "no it's okay," he says quickly, hand raised defensively when you begin to furrow your brows. luke continues, "after all, when I win, I want it to be fair and square."

"my god," you roll your eyes fondly, the corners of your lips tugging up in a smile. "whatever helps you sleep lukey."

"I see another one!" jack yells somewhere on the property - quinn's voice following suit as he threatens to fight jack over an easter egg.

simultaneously, your and luke's eyes widen at what you're hearing.

"what's over there?" luke questions, brows furrowed as he points behind you.

you frown in confusion, spinning around to try and spots the object of luke's gaze.

he takes off, calling out some stupid insult about you being a sloth as he does. your scoff of disbelief turns into a laugh, and you begin to run.

you don't remember finding the last egg that was sitting in your basket when ellen counted all of them out - but seeing as you had the most blue eggs out of everyone, you weren't going to complain, taking your chocolate bunny prize happily.

luke watches you light up with joy when you are declared the winner for another year in a row. he finds himself smiling along, happy that when he handed you the egg back you had given him as a reward, he managed to slip one of his own back in with it- just like he does every year.

three: 4th of july

you knew that having another vodka water, adding to your borderline drunk state, wasn't the smartest idea - but you cracked open the can regardless, the sound echoing over the michigan lake.

you take a hearty sip to mask the scowl on your face. lacey laughs loudly, and your annoyance grows because yes it was the same lacey from luke's birthday party all those years ago and yes, unfortunately she was close to some of your other friends so yes she'd often hang out with the group.

this 4th of july weekend was no exception as you watch lacey continue to hang around luke and jack - your jealousy meter maxing out anytime she would lean into luke or touch his arm.

you take another sip, some of the liquid dribbling down you lip after quinn drives over one of the waves, sending trevor zegras into the air as he wakeboards behind you. quickly and rather aggressively, you wipe the spilled alcohol off your chin, eyes still pointedly glaring towards your best friend, his brother and lacey.

as if he can sense your staring, luke turns his head in your direction, quickly finding you on the bench seat. you're sitting with your back turned to wards the water and jacob truscott - who's job is attentively watching trevor as he wakeboards.

luke's initial smile with seeing you is wiped away once he sees that you're annoyed, your clear sour face making him frown. quickly, you turn your head in the opposite direction.

and because drunk you has no self control, you quickly look back in luke's direction, not lasting 5 seconds. luke is still watching you, his brows pulled together in question. just when it looks like he is going to make his way over to you, lacey grabs his wrist, lighting up as she animatedly begins to tell a story that 'he just had to hear!'

you start to become angry. not only were you feeling frustrated because lacey was not your cup of tea and jack invited her to your 4th of july celebration regardless of your feelings, but you were even more upset by the fact that luke was allowing himself to be so easily entertained by her. luke had always treated lacey normally, even though you often expressed how you weren't her biggest fan - which was okay, of course. you didn't want luke to treat her differently just because you didn't like her, but still - it had you feeling jealous.

you take a huffy breath, getting up from your seated position as careful and as stable as you could while being drunk on a moving boat. obviously, it wasn't your best or most successful idea, quinn jerking the boat for trevor's boarding quickly and it has you stumbling - right into the back of jacob.

he turns around quickly, his eyes blown wide as he takes you in. "hey, y/n, you okay?"

and just like that your brain comes up with a plan. one that though you may regret in the morning when you're sober, in your drunkenness sounds perfect - you've never thought of a better idea in your life. you smile at jacob, fluttering your lashes at him. "can I sit and watch with you?"

jacob watches as you bite you lip in question while you await his answer, eyeing him with a hazy look over your bright eyes.

he chuckles slightly, "course you can."

you smile cheerfully and you quickly start to make the small step up onto the seat platform, your small hand gripping jacob's strong shoulder to help balance yourself until you gracefully plop down beside him. as flirtatious as you can manage while being intoxicated, you run your hand from his shoulder down his arm, trying to tickle him.

jacob eyes you suspiciously, a small amused smile beginning to tug his lips upwards. you smile back, bringing your hand into your lap. "what are you up to?" jacob questions after a moment. he doesn't wait for an answer before he turns his head to look over his shoulder - right at luke.

"nothing!" you hum, laying your palm flat on his cheek and bringing his gaze back towards you.

jacob gives you a look, brows raised knowingly. he has to tongue his cheek to not laugh, your plan of trying to make luke jealous obvious. clearly you're not as inconspicuous as you thought.

you shrug once, leaning in even closer to jacob. "just wanted to sit with you is all."

he just nods, shrugging nonchalantly "whatever you say." jacob's eyes leave yours, attention back on trevor on the wakeboard. clearly jacob doesn't mind helping you out, he even lets his hand slide behind you, resting flat on the seat right near your ass - he doesn't even seem flustered at the how if he stretched his pinky out he'd be touching your butt - that kind of makes you feel at ease.

after flirting and laughing with jacob for 10 minutes, trevor's time on the wake board comes to an end, quinn slowing down the boat. in that 10 minutes you'd only managed to get in a glance towards luke three times (jacob kept you pretty entertained oddly enough), and everytime luke was wearing a neutral expression - his arms crossed and listening to lacey.

trevor removes himself from to board, breathless as he climbs onto the swim platform."did you guys see me hit that last wave?" he smiles, unzipping the life jacket wrapped around his torso.

"it was sick," ethan edwards comes up beside you, leaning on his elbows right beside your thighs to talk to trevor - drunk you honestly forget he was here. "fuck man way cooler than any waves I got - quinn must have his favourites." ethan continues, playfully side eyeing the oldest hughes brother as he makes his way over to the back of the boat.

"ha ha," quinn says sarcastically, grabbing onto the rope of the wake board paddle and pulling it towards the boat. "if I actually had favourites, trevor wouldn't be one of them."

trevor cries out and grabs his peck like quinn's words had actually reached out and stabbed him, "ouch."

quinn ignores trevor, rolling his eyes dismissively - although his lips move upwards in a small smile. "alright," he breaths, finally getting the wakeboard onto the swim platform, " who wants to go next."

looking back over your shoulder once more, you see that luke still isn't bothered enough in coming over to you - listening to some story lacey was blabbing on about to jack and dylan duke.

you hum, shooting up off the bench. you wobble slightly, ethan grabbing your ankle reflexively to try and steady you. you smile triumphantly, "i'll go." you make your way over to quinn, taking the protective life jacket from trevor's outstretched hand.

quinn looks you up and down, eyes hesitant. "you sure?"

you nod without looking at him, stepping into the boots of the board. if flirting with luke's friend wasn't working in getting his attention, hanging off the back of the boat as you zip through the water surely had to.

you clip the buckles down, the sound snapping against the boots. quinn bends down in attempt to help you get secure, but you dismiss him, dropping off of the swimming platform and into the water.

"y/n..." quinn starts, his eyes filled with doubt.

"i'm good." you take the ropes right out of quinn's hands, wrapping them once around your wrist. "let's do it."

he sighs but doesn't protest any further, leaving you alone. quinn walks off the platform, making his way back to the driver's seat.

the engine starts a few moments later, the roar making you smile slightly - adjusting the slippy rope handles as you prepare to start.

"fuck yeah, y/n!" jack calls, hands bracketed around his mouth as he cheers for you, his voice echoing over the lake.

after getting your thumbs up, quinn starts to drive, the movement of the motor vehicle slowly dragging your body towards the surface, gaining speed until the wakeboard comes to the top. jacob slaps the bench seat a few times in a cheer, him and ethan both praising and cheering you on back on the boat. your smile widens at the boys and luke's brows furrow.

the boat is going the proper speed now, and quinn starts to do circles around himself to create the desired waves - you swallow nervously as you see the first one approaching. you can feel your hands loosen on the rope again , and naturally your fingers unhook themselves in order for them to readjust. the wave hits sooner than anticipated, and you first jolt forwards quickly before being flung backwards, your feet coming out of the boots as you get launched into the water.

you push up to the surface with your shaky arms, a gasping breath leaving your lips as you take in the air.

the boat has been stopped, and there's a group of worried faces staring at you from about 10 feet away. you definitely shouldn't of dismissed quinn when he wanted to check over your buckles, and you definitely shouldn't of let your guard down when trying to re-grip the rope.

you start to leisurely swim back towards the boat, feeling much more calm now that you’re not being panicked underwater. “i’m good!” you laugh it off, approaching the platform.

jack is waiting for you, his hand outstretched in your direction. you grip it, your wet palm slapping against his calloused one as he pulls you out of the water. he says your name through a smile, “that was badass."

then you notice how luke’s there as well, looking much more stressed than his brother - eyes frantically searching you for any visible injuries. "are you okay?" he breaths.

"yes," you sigh firmly. jack finally lets you go, allowing you to stand yourself up on your own feet. as you place your left foot down fat, your ankle screams in protest and gives out on you - making you topple forwards with a yelp. "fuck."

instantly, luke is there, rushing towards you and grabbing a hold of your arms. he keeps you upright, leaning down so he can look into your eyes. “what hurts?”

"my ankle," you whine quietly, eyes moving down in embarrassment. not only were you drunk, but you were now hurt and in enough pain for your intoxication to not even be able to mask it. "it really hurts lukey." you whisper, your throat becoming thick with emotion.

"okay, okay," luke wraps an arm around your waist, putting all of your weight onto him as he helps you off of the swimming platform and onto the carpeted area of the boat. you wince quietly in the short time it takes to get to the front of the boat - away from prying eyes that would only have you feeling even more embarrassed.

"sit down." luke tells you sternly, helping in lowering you to the seat. tears are desperately wanting to escape, the entire day of events weighing heavy on your chest.

luke turns away from you, reaching into the blue drink cooler - digging through the ice and cans of seltzers until he finds a plastic water bottle. he grabs it, walking back towards you with an unreadable expression, sitting across from you.

"i'm cold." you say as soon as luke sits down. you can’t decide if you’re cold because your wet and the sun is starting to set or if it’s because luke’s knees keep brushing yours, igniting goosebumps.

your emotions come to a head, and a tear finally falls, trailing down the round of your sunkissed cheek.

"let's take off the lifejacket, okay?" he reaches towards you, unzipping the wet jacket. your boobs definitely spill out of your bikini top in a way that is probably unflattering, no longer pushed against you by the life jacket. “give it back incase somebody else wants a turn.” luke grabs dylan dukes abandoned towel, wrapping the fluffy cover around your shoulders.

his teasing gives right over your head.

"okay," luke sighs quietly, tapping his two fingers against your thigh."let me see your ankle, put it on my leg."

you do as he says, bringing your leg up and over so you can comfortably have your knee bent and foot laying flat on luke's muscular thigh - his leg hairs tickling your painted toes.

softly, luke uses the water bottle he'd earlier grabbed as a temporary ice pack, pressing it to your ankle bone. the coolness feels nice, and it already is helping the pain.

your mood turns even more unpleasant when you her lacey's high pitched laugh echo around you - assaulting your water logged ear drums. you keep your eyes downcast, fingers wordlessly fiddling with a loose strand on the beach towel.

you sniffle, "wouldn't you rather be with lacey?" your jealously is definitely showing, but you're too irritated with the days events to be civil. lacey, combined with hurting your ankle and having luke practically ignoring you all day has your filter disappearing.

one of luke's long fingers slowly starts running along the back of your calf. "nah." he says gently. you can feel his eyes on you, but you're still not sure if you can handle looking into his eyes in the state your in.

your brows raise in suprise, and your disbelief is still prevalent in your tone. "really? she sure gives you a lot of attention."

luke shrugs once. "you're hurt. you take priority."

his answer has you scoffing slightly, and you tug harder on the loose towel thread. "only because i'm hurt?" finally, you look back towards him, eyes pinched with irritation at his answer.

in all seriousness, luke looks at you. his lips almost tug down in a frown, and his eyes begin to soften at your red cheeks and glazed eyes. "no. you always are my priority."

now you feel embarrassed. although lacey is more outgoing and flirty than you are, you are luke's best friend - not her. quickly, your hand comes up to wipe away any fallen tears, "sorry." you mumble.

luke dismisses your apology, tapping your heel twice around the cold water bottle he was still pressing against you. he eyes your somber expression again, and kisses his teeth.

your eye him as he scoots closer towards you. "can I tell you something?"

you nod, naturally finding yourself leaning in as well.

luke's lips begin to turn upwards. "watching you flirt and spend time with jacob today...It made me feel kind of jealous."

you feel your heart come to a hard stop and then speed up again - beating frantically at luke's confession. you're sure your mouth is opening and closing like a fish, but you're too baffled to say anything.

he continues quietly, "because, you know, he was taking my best friends attention away from me."

you deflate.

luke shrugs, "and I know that's hypocritical because I was kind of being a dick today but still...jacob doesn't deserve your attention - neither do I honestly but-"

you shake your head, bumping the leg that wasn't resting on his thigh against luke's knee, stopping his rambling. he's still your luke, no matter what. he's awkward and sweet and....yours.

"you're the only one I really want to give my attention to, lukey."

he smiles gently, "really?"

"yeah - i'm drunk," you remind him, "I can't lie even if I want to." you both laugh at your half slurred confession, leaning into each other as you do so.

as quinn pulls the boat back towards the dock of the hughes summer house, you can't even remember why you'd been annoyed with luke in the first place - too focused on him nursing your ankle and his soft smile.

four: fall festivities

"jello shot?" you ask through an exhale, a bright smile on your face. you gesture the small serving tray full of colourful desert towards the two girls in front of you. thankfully, they smile back, happily taking the alcohol from you.

you nod in parting before picking up your pace once more, gripping the tray harder as you practically jog around your condo - determined to serve everybody.

when luke had mentioned jack offered to host the annual new jersey devils halloween party, he told you that him and his brother were worried about the limited space in their apartment and were unsure of how they were going to make it work. seeing your best friend in a predicament had you immediately offering your place to throw it.

not only was your space bigger, but your only neighbour was a wealthy businessman who was never home, so there would be no noise complaints and no issues with fitting the devils roster in for a halloween themed party. obviously your offer had nothing to do with being totally into your best friend and going to any extreme to see him happy - obviously.

there was a few more people attending than you were initially expecting to show up - which mostly consist of the wives and girlfriends of the team, but still, you hadn't factored that in. the added people had your hosting skills dialled up to an 11, and you can't remember the last time you had sat down or properly mingled with anybody - too busy making sure everything was stocked.

you squeeze through a group of laughing girls you don't recognize, and you whisper your apologies as you move through them. "jell-o shot?" you question, approaching dougie, dawson and john near the fireplace.

"oh hey," john greets you, dressed like a minion. "you look like you're having a great time." john laughs and they all reach out to take a halloween coloured shot cup off your tray.

"I am if you are," you smile politely, his teasing remark flying over your head - you're too tired and stressed to digest his words properly.

you're definitely not having a great time. your hand is cramping around the orange and purple striped serving tray, your fake eyelashes are stabbing you, your legs are killing you, and don't even start on how your faux fur coat has you sweating profusely.

"cruella, right?" dawson is the one to question you, gesturing to your halloween costume - a simple black dress paired with a spotted coat, red gloves, pearls and the wig of course.

you nod, "in the flesh."

"y/n!" you hear jack call your name loudly from the opposite end of your condo, his hands clasped around his mouth as he shouts for you. "we need more punch."

you sigh gently, throwing your hand in the air blindly to give the middle hughes a thumbs up - a conformation that you heard him and you'd make another bowl.

"sorry, would you guys excuse me - duty calls." you manage to give a laugh towards the three devil players, all dressed in contradicting costumes, spinning on your heels and speed walking away.

you push through the swinging door that leads to your kitchen, half empty tray of jell-o shots and the glass punch bowl you grabbed on the way balanced in your hands. thankfully nobody was in your kitchen, and the sight of emptiness has you breathing in relief.

you loved having everyone at your place and you especially loved how everyone felt comfortable in dressing up and allowing you, jack and luke to host - but you couldn't wait for the night to be over. you always underestimated the hassle of hosting, and this night is proving that.

you fan your warm face with a gloved hand, trying to cool yourself off. your free hand is pouring some koolaid mix into the empty punch bowl, the powered crystals becoming liquid as they touch the orange juice and sprite concoction.

the door creaks, alerting you as somebody enters your once quiet kitchen. your shoulders deflate naturally, and your already preparing for another task or hosting duty that you'd have to attend to.

you look over your shoulder and are met with the comforting gaze of your best friend. luke smiles softly at you, which makes him look extra cute in his dalmatian outfit. "hey," luke starts, making his way over you, "I haven't seen you all night. you okay?"

the relief floods through your body, but a different wave of emotion quickly replaces any prior ones. you feel yourself wanting to cry, because no, you're not doing okay. "i'm stressed, lukey, i'm sorry. I love hosting but my costume is so hot that i feel permanently wet from how much i've been sweating. my body hurts and i'm tired and I feel like the list of things I need to do is endless and-" you exhale, dropping the wooden mixing spoon to the counter. "respectfully I can't wait for it to end."

luke frowns, reaching you in two long strides. "don't apologize for feeling overwhelmed." he shrugs, glancing over his shoulder quickly, "it's definitely more people than I expected."

you sniffle, laughing gently as you nod in agreement. "definitely."

he smiles softly, and like he's done a million times before, luke gently reaches out, his thumb swiping under your eye to brush any fallen tears. "let's head up to the roof for a bit," he hums, a slight frown tugging his lips, "get some air."

you exhale shakily. "jack needs the punch though."

"fuck him and fuck the punch," luke tells you sternly, "they can survive without it for a little bit, okay?"

"okay," you whisper in agreement.

you live on the top floor of your condo, so the journey to the buildings rooftop wasn't long. luke leads you up the small flight of stairs and out onto the decorated deck like he's done many times, guiding you over to your and his claimed spot.

immediately, you fall back dramatically into the lounger, eyes meeting the starry night sky above. you can feel like you can breath properly, and the only noise you can hear is the city below.

luke smiles at your now closed eyes and starfish pose, making his way over to his favourite green lounger beside you, mimicking your laying down position. he tucks his arm behind his head, using his own forearm as a pillow as he looks at the stars.

a beat passes.

"i'm sorry you're stressed." luke tells you quietly.

you open your eyes, turning your head towards him. luke is already watching you, eyes guilty and frown present.

you shake your head at him, dismissing his apology. after all, he didn't do anything wrong. "it's fine, luke, really."

"I just don't like seeing you struggling," he admits.

"if anything," you start sincerely, "you've made my night 100 times better in like the 5 minutes i've spent with you - which by the way, is crazy, how is this the first time since you got here that we've hung out."

"I know," luke smiles, "i've missed you."

you eye him teasingly, a pout forming on your face. "did my little dalmatian miss his master?" you question in an animated baby voice, one of your hands reaching out to poke his ribs.

luke jolts away from your jab, pulling a disgusted face in favour of your baby voice. regardless of his expression, he was laughing at your question. "you're a weirdo."

"yeah but i'm your favourite weirdo," you say matter of factly, turning your entire body towards him on top of your blue coloured lounger.

luke smirks, "you're definitely top 10."

"top 10?" you screech with a laugh, "not even top 5....I really gotta up my game. who's my competition?"

luke kisses his teeth, in a deep faux thought as he hums. "well, obviously borat is up there."

"obviously," you repeat.

"and my friend y/n is up there too - she's the weirdest one of all." luke sends you another teasing glance, "instead of being normal and saying 'butterflies in my stomach', she calls them ladybirds like a grandma and she eats ranch with almost everything."

you smile, "she sounds hot."

luke tongues his cheek, eyes finding the stars again. another beat passes, the two of you enjoying each others company in silence of city nightlife.

the crinkling of a bag has your brows furrowing, glancing back at luke just as he pulls out a half empty bag of cheeto's. "hungry?" he asks you, holding out the open bag in your direction.

you grab a handful of cheesy sticks, "I didn't even know your onesie had pockets." you tell him with a snicker, plopping two cheetos into your mouth.

"this dalmatian is full of surprises," luke says between chews of the monster handful of chips he'd previously shoved in his mouth.

you snort, grabbing another handful. "of course he is." you're thankful that luke had miraculously snuck cheetos from the party out to the roof, because you think the last time you ate was breakfast. your stomach rumbles at the thought. you swear, your best friend knows you better than you know yourself. "I should've known you'd bring snacks."

luke eyes you with faux suspicion, sucking his thumb clean of cheese dust. "are you calling me fat?"

"luke," you laugh, head lolling away from him and his teasing comments. "you're insufferable."

a heavy drop of water hits your face, starling you. another one follows quickly after, hitting the round of your cheek before sliding down to your ear.

"what the hell," luke mumbles. you eye him quickly, watching as he wipes the few drops of rain off his face. "is that rain?"

you roll your eyes gently, "yes, luke, it's rain."

at your words, the water seems to unleash from the gray night clouds, a thick downfall of rain pouring over you and luke. you sit up quickly, squinting towards the sky. your faux fur coat is quickly becoming drenched, sticking to your skin uncomfortably. "let's go before my lashes fall off." you sigh gently - the thought of heading back into the hectic environment of your condo sounded anything but desirable.

as if luke can sense your hesitation, he gets to his feet quickly, stepping into your line of sight. the dog ears on his onesie are dripping with water, flopping pathetically as he looks at you. he wipes his face of rain, "not yet - let's just stay."

you sigh his name, "it's raining."

"so?" he shrugs, costume sagging down his body, heavy with rain.

"so," you breathe an amused laugh, "we will get wet."

"nothing wrong with a little bit of water," you can see luke smirk through the heavy rain, and you can't help your own lips from tugging upwards at the sight.

you exhale gently, "I don't know."

luke dismisses your hesitation, grabbing a hold of your soaked gloved hands and pulling you towards him, bringing you both farther out the roof deck. "just one dance before we go back to the party - I haven't gotten to dance with you allllll night."

you let him drag you wordlessly, giving him a deadpanned looked.

"plus you deserve a dance - my hard working host." luke adds cheekily. his one hand slides around your waist, pulling you against his front - swaying you to imaginary music gently.

"kiss ass," you mumble, voice just notable over the sound of rain pelting the concrete rooftop. you can feel luke's chest rumble with laughter, his fingers flexing around your hand. "you always dance without music hughes?"

he licks his teeth, looking down at you. your skin looks so soft and dewy from the rain, your eyes dilated from the dark atmosphere. you are blinking up at him gently, your eyelashes wet in a way that makes you look even more beautiful. luke clears his throat, spinning you around dramatically - just barley stopping himself from slipping on the slick ground in the process. "only with you."

luke pulls away from you quickly, but you don't have time to question him before his grip on your hand tightens and he's twirling you back into him. you screech gently, the movement taking you by surprise.

"so you only dance with me or you dance with others but they get the privilege of dancing with music?" you ask him teasingly - this time it's you who is twirling luke around, and the sight of your 6ft2 best friend spinning in a soaked dalmatian onesie was unbeatable.

luke comes back towards you, taking his original position with his strong forearm around your torso, interlocking your fingers together in a waltz like stance. "I only dance with you," he whispers through the rain, "and you're the only one i'll ever dance with - especially in the cold rain without music." he tries to tease you, but his words fall on deaf ears.

you're looking at him with a swirl of emotion in your eyes and your heart beating heavily against your rib cage.

luke seems to stop as well, looking down at you with just as much admiration and tenderness that you're surely showing him. he visibly swallows, his adam's apple bobbing against his throat.

you watch luke's eyes fall to your lips, swiping over them before finding your eyes once again. at first you think you imagine it, but then quickly his eyes dart back to your red lips and the ladybirds start going frantic in your stomach.

was luke about to kiss you?

your blinks start to slow naturally, preparing to shut fully as luke begins to inch in closer to your face, leaning over you in a way that most definitely was uncomfortably straining the muscles in his back.

the door to the rooftop swings open with a squeak before bagging against the wall loudly - echoing all around. startled, you and luke jump away from one another, breathing heavily as your adrenaline comes to a spike.

your body feels freezing without luke's pressed against it, and you shiver uncomfortably, wrapping your soaked fur coat around yourself further.

jack is eyeing you both through the october rain, "hey," he starts, adjusting the plastic firefighter helmet onto his outgrown head of hair. "i've been looking for you guys! y/n we're out of chip dip."

you start walking towards the middle hughes sibling. "sorry, i'll get the other one out the fridge." you sigh, brushing past him and back into the dry hallway of your building.

luke closes his eyes, exhaling loudly.

"you good?" jack asks once luke makes his way over, eyeing his brother suspiciously. "what where you two even doing out here - it's raining."

luke sends his brother a glare, "I know that," he walks back into the building,wiping his face clean of all lingering rain water. "you're so annoying." he quickly walks away from his older brother, leaving him by the door.

jack throws his hands up, "what did I do?"

+ one: christmas

sabrina carpenter's heavenly voice slinks through the warm home, nestling in your ears comfortably. just over the music, you hear ellen hughes laugh happily at something your mom says - both of them in the kitchen, chatting and finishing off a bottle of wine while they clean up the dinner dishes.

jim and your father have been watching hockey tapes in the den, both quiet and content by themselves - them too indulging in a festive spiced wine.

it was christmas eve, after all.

you laugh warmly as quinn dips you low to the ground before pulling you back upwards quickly, sending a quick dizzy wave over you - which is probably the alcohols fault, not quinn's.

jack applauds quinn's elaborate dance moves, smiling with flushed cheeks as he watches you both from his spot sprawled on the worn brown love seat. "where'd you learn to dance like that huggy?" the middle hughes brother questions after a sip of beer, brows raised inquisitively.

quinn doesn't answer and he only spins you on the spot. you hum, "you jealous jack?" your body faces quinn once more, and your momentum has you stumbling slightly, tripping over your own feet and bumping into your dance partner.

"i'm not jealous of anything," jack snickers to himself like he's in on some crazy secret you aren't aware of - but you don't have the mental capacity to unfold that, still laughing and dancing on your family homes shaggy rug.

"yeah yeah whatever," quinn dismisses his brother teasing, rolling his eyes so only you catch it. you giggle at the sight, head falling onto his shoulder as you do.

the stairs creek under somebodies weight, and a moment later luke walks back into the family room empty handed, meeting your eyes. "I can't find it." he tells you.

you leave quinn, which was expected, turning your body and attention towards the youngest brother. "well where did you look?"

after your christmas dinner, ellen and your mom had started going on about childhood memories in their typical sappy mom fashion - laughing and crying while you and the boys eyed them with amusement. your mom was the one who brought up the scrapbook you and luke made together after your shared trip to the zoo on your 11th birthday, which was something even you had forgotten about.

jack had immediately starting pestering and teasing the two of you for being quote on quote cheesy (even though you were kids so obviously you were cheesy - but you digress.) jack begged for you to get the scrapbook so he could see it, and then once he started, quinn claimed he had never seen it and also wanted to look.

"i mean," you had started gently, eyeing luke with a hesitant smile, "it would be nice for us all to look at."

one look at your flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes, luke was sighing, pushing off the couch. "where is it?"

luke thumbs over his shoulder, "the hallway closet."

"really?" you hum, deep in thought as you think about where else your beloved shared scrapbook could possibly be hiding. "I mean, we could check my old bedroom closet? sometimes mom keeps stuff in there."

jack groans dramatically from the couch, head lulling back. "hurry up and go find it! I need to see that picture of the giraffe licking y/n's face."

quinn and jack crack up just at the thought of the picture you'd told them about - the image captured you shrieking as the giraffes purple tongue slides up your cheek.

"you whiny baby - we're going!" you huff, walking towards the stairs with luke in tow, both of you making the journey up the creaky staircase.

your room is located at the end of the hall, still painted the sage green you had chosen when you and your family first moved in. you dodge your suitcase that you left in the middle of the room, all of your clothes sprawled across the cream carpet from when you were frantically searching for your christmas sweater this morning.

"holy shit," luke says from behind you, eyes wide as he looks around your childhood room, "I haven't been in this room since like....highschool."

you open your closet doors with a small laugh, amused at your best friends amusement. you start rifling through the millions of photo albums and frames that your mom did fill your closet with - like you expected.

"oh my god, we were so little." luke smiles, picking up your lady bug decorated picture frame that was sitting on your tall dresser - right beside you original speak now CD and jewelry box. you turn to glance at him over your shoulder, smiling automatically at the sight of him looking at the picture. "god where are my front teeth?" he laughs, placing the frame back down.

it's a picture of you and luke when you were both 10, smiling happily poolside in your bathing suits - luke's akward grin made perfect by his lack of front teeth. you giggle with him, the memory of that picture just as fresh now as the day it was taken.

you rifled through a few more old photo albums until your fingers land on the tiger striped spine of your and luke's scrapbook. you gasp, "I found it!" you pull it out of the closet quickly, standing from your previously crouched position to once again face luke. you start flipping through the pages, giggling at the pictures as you do so. "this is amazing."

"dear diary," luke says with a laugh. you look up inquisitively, a quirk to your brow. he's got your fuzzy purple notebook clutched in his hand, flipped open to a random page. "it's y/n again and today i'm feeling a bit...funny." he reads your entry out loud, an amused smile on his face.

"oh god," you laugh, a hand covering your face in embarrassment- already cringing at your younger self.

luke's eyes light up as he reads the next line, laughing as he does so. "the day started absolutely amazing! it was my best friend luke's 11th birthday party! I can't believe he's 11 and in two more months i'll also be 11." he quotes you, "you were such an optimistic happy kid." he laughs.

your heart stops and you can feel your face fall. memories of the day you had wrote that specific diary entry come flooding back to you. you pale and your stomach plummets unpleasantly - you half a bottle of wine taunting you. "luke - give me the diary."

he's still laughing to himself, book propped open with a thumb and middle finger. he continues reading, "we all went to the arcade that luke and I have always wanted to go to together." he quotes you. he pauses, thinking back to that huge indoor party, "it was a sick arcade." luke hums.

you step towards him, "luke seriously lets go...jack and quinn are waiting." you're suprised at how fast your brain came up with an excuse to leave your room and the diary behind - your anxiety through the roof.

he couldn't fishing reading it.

he skims farther down the page, laughing loudly, quoting your writing more. "she was always around like an annoying little fly. lacey kept taking all of luke's attention away from me - you still sound like this by the way."

you try and lunge towards him and grab the diary, but luke is quicker than you (he always has been) and pulls the book farther out of reach. "i'm feeling jealous, diary. because luke is....special - you're too kind to me," he teases you.

"luke," you huff, hands trying to reach around him to grab the book once again, but he spins away, affectively dodging you once more. "please put that away"

luke continues to read the diary entry, your stomach plummeting deeper. "his soft curly hair and his bright eyes-"

"give that to me now." you panic, voice shaky as you beg. you make another attempt at getting your diary out of luke's hands, but he rushes towards the other side of the room, giggling at the writing of child you complimenting him.

luke starts again, "and when he smiles I get ladybugs in my stomach. I love -" he stops reading, face falling. you watch intently as luke's eyes dance over the rest of the lines on the page, reading your 11 year old self's love confession.

you're already thinking of excuses for the entry - you were just a kid and didn't know what love meant or what marriage meant. but you weren't 5 when you wrote it, you were almost a pre-teen who definitely knew what marriage was. that won't work.

you'd could say that lacey was just having you feeling weird and angry - like she always has, but that excuse doesn't seem plausible.

you watch luke anxiously and silently, knawing on your lip as a way to channel your nerves. you were already preparing for your friendship to plummet. now that luke has read your deepest darkest secret - the life long crush you've had on him - you were ready for him to not want to be your friend anymore.

logically, you know you should say something and at least try and convince him that it was nothing - after all it was almost a decade ago and you could play it off as a joke. but words don't come out, and you're stuck in a plummeting hole.

"wow," luke eventually mutters, closing your diary gently.

"luke," you whisper waterly, eyes following him as he walks your diary back over to your dresser, tucking it between taylor swift and framed pictures. you think you might start praying, desperate for luke to want to stay your friend or at least stay in your life - you can't imagine living without him.

"be honest with me," luke starts, "was this just a silly little crush or do you still...love me?"

you mumble his name again, eyes watering with a million emotions that you definitely weren't expecting to experience on christmas eve.

"y/n....tell me."

you meet his eyes, and all you can mutter is a quiet 'I still do', a tear falling down your face and dipping towards your collarbone.

a beat passes.

"well this is pretty embarrassing, right?" he says with a gentle laugh, running a hand over his head of curls in disbelief.

"what?" you mumble.

"I mean over a decade of loving each other in secret, neither of us ballsy enough to say anything- I wonder how many people knew." he laughs to himself, visibly thinking.

you shake your head, "wait what?"

luke steps towards you, closing the space between your bodies in favour of holding the side of your face, his thumb wiping away the trail of water from your tear, resting against your cheekbone affectionately. "I love you."

"you do?"

he nods, "of course I do, wanna read my endless texts from quinn and jack telling me to man up and confess my lifelong crush on you to prove it?" he challenges you teasingly, a playful tone accompanied by a tinge of nerves.

finally, you smile, lips tugging upwards as you reach out for him, your small hand gripping his wrist to keep him close to you. you shake your head, "no, I believe you."

luke laughs breathily, forehead touching yours as he brings your faces closer together. "thank god because those texts are embarrassing." his words are like a million tiny kisses, tickling your face in a way that has your nose scrunching.

"and you reading my diary wasn't?" you question with laughter.

"god no," luke dismisses, "it was cute."

"kiss ass," you smile, running the tip of your nose down the bridge of luke's, nudging your faces closer together. your other hand reaches for his waist, keeping him close.

"yeah." he agrees, free hand moving up to hold the other side of your face. luke smirks one more time before leaning in, finally kissing you.

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[softpascalito]

I Healing Hands I Marcus Acacius I

Summary: Acacius returns home with an injury—and you try to care for him. But his ideas of healing (and baths) are a little ... different. Especially when you finally have some time to yourselves.

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x F!Reader Rating: Explicit / MDNI Word count: 2.3k Tags: Explicit, Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Creampie, Handjobs, Nipple Play, Dirty Talk, Bathing/Washing, Blood & Injury, Secret Relationship, Mention of Period-Typical Violence, Mention of Period-Typical Slavery, Not historically accurate

AO3 LINK // Masterlist

notes: i can't believe i wrote smut about romans. anyway, i can't wait to see the trailer, enjoy the porn <3

domus - a type of house dulcissima - sweetest anaticula - little duck (affectionate) subligaculum - a type of underwear (i had three years of latin so i absolutely know what i'm doing)

The domus he lives in sits on the edge of Palatine hill, a small house that feels more welcoming to you than any palace could. The atrium is decorated with a variety of plants, the green colors peaking through the columns that line the sides of the open space. You’ve come to know the details of this place well, from the feel of the stones below your feet to the artistically created, coffered ceilings.

As you let your gaze wander over the sunlit atrium, you find yourself looking at the small statue that sits in the middle of a small fountain, both almost hidden by the plants around them. The water below reflects the merciless sun above and sends small reflections of light dancing across the open space. The form of Apollo stands still, frozen in a heroic movement with one arm raised and his head held high.

The god of music, of truth, and most importantly, of healing. You always think your presence in this house must please him, because since being here, you have felt more healing than you have known before.

You hear Acacius before you see him, his breath coming in a little shorter than you’d like. His footsteps sound through the atrium and you catch glimpses of him as he passes behind the columns on the other side. Even from a distance, the way he’s holding himself tells you he’s hurt, not to mention the dirt on him and his armor. The golden details usually shine in the sun—now they look almost ancient, covered in grime.

You sent a silent prayer to Apollo, your eyes briefly flying back to the statue. When you turn back towards Acacius, he has rounded the corner, making his way over to you, though much slower than he usually would. A small sigh leaves his lips as his eyes land on you and you can see his body deflate visibly.

“Acacius.”

You’re by his side in an instant, attempting to let him prop himself up on you, to use your body to support his. Instead, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a hug. You wrap your own arms around him, a hand finding his hair and attempting to brush through it—only to find it matted with blood. He must feel you tense next to him, a sharp breath escaping you as your fingers feel over his scalp, trying to locate the wound.

“Not mine,” he mumbles under his breath. He pauses for a short moment. “I promised I would come back.”

“You always do and yet I dread the day you will break that promise,” you say, a sad smile playing around your lips. You pull back enough to look at him, taking in the small cuts on his face and the deep lines between his brows that you want to smooth out until he looks as peaceful as he does in his sleep.

He does not protest when you try to take some of his weight on you, silently wishing you could take his worries too, and lead him away from the atrium and towards the small bath that is off to the side. You maneuver him through the small archway that is framed by beige columns on either side and into the middle of the room, the scent of the bath salts filling your nostrils as soon as you take a deep breath.

Acacius lifts his right arm—and immediately screws his face up in pain. You send a stern glance his way. “Let me do that.”

You nudge his arm to the side just enough to reach the leather strings that hold his armor together, slowly working your way through them until you can easily slide the dark leather off him, shaking your head weakly when you see how caked with blood and dirt it is. When you’ve placed the armor on one of the stone benches that line the wall, you move on to his braces and his shoes—and finally, the undercloth, taking it off just as carefully and leaving him in just his underwear.

And then, you suddenly see the reason he’s holding himself the way he is.

A nasty cut marks his right side, just below the ribs. You swallow hard, reaching out and tracing the dried blood around it with a motion that comes naturally. You feel Acacius shift under your fingers, bringing his own hands towards yours and wrapping them around it. They fit perfectly, his grip strong despite his injury.

Your gaze is drawn back to his face by the movement and he smiles weakly. “It looks much worse than it is, dulcissima.”

He’s not wrong. He’s definitely had worse injuries, including the time he barely made it to the atrium, instead collapsing into your arms just behind the entrance to the domus. But, quite frankly, it doesn’t mean you don’t worry.

“It stopped bleeding halfway here,” Acacius adds, correctly interpreting your silence.

“Why didn’t you clean yourself at the baths? They would’ve tended to your wound.” You search his face as you speak.

“I wanted to be with you.”

You sigh disapprovingly at his response, though you can’t deny you like to have him close too, especially when he’s injured. Which, with him, feels like it’s every other day.

He leans down to you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, mumbling. “It really does not hurt all that much anymore.” His arm sneaks back around you, though his hand is now wandering much lower than it did before.

You bite your lip, trying to give him another stern look but you can feel the way you begin to falter as he smoothes circles into the fabric of your tunic. “Acacius, your servants—”

“They are busy,” he assures you, dragging his lips over your cheek and towards your earlobe. “Besides, if any of them attempted to talk, I’d have their heads.”

You listen into the silence that follows, almost determined to catch a pair of feet approaching or a voice in the distance. But the only sounds that reach your ears are those of the small fountain in the atrium and Acacius’s breath against your skin.

“We won’t be disturbed,” he hums and you sigh in defeat, reaching down to undo his subligaculum, the soft fabric falling away to reveal the trail of dark hair that leads down towards his cock. You’re only mildly surprised to find him already half-hard.

“Let me clean you first at least,” you mutter, leading him further into the room and towards the small bath embedded in the tiled floor. You sit him down at the edge of it, letting him dangle his legs into the warm water. You reach for a cloth, wet it slightly and get to work. You start with his arms, watching as the dirt and blood starts to come off, revealing the tanned skin underneath.

You hear Acacius sigh above you and you feel his eyes on you, the soft gaze he looks at you with so different from the one he carries on the battlefield. His hands begin wandering again, dipping below the thin fabric of your tunic and you are just reaching down to wet the cloth again when he manhandles you into him, placing you comfortably on his lap.

You tense for a split moment before he catches your lips in a kiss—and then you hear yourself sigh as the protest inside you makes space for a fire that’s rapidly building in your lower abdomen. You can smell him, his sweat mixed with a hint of blood, you can feel the dirt rubbing off on you but you don’t care. You just want him.

His voice is a growl. “Merda, get out of that thing already.”

You obey, crawling off him and slipping the tunic off your body, carelessly letting it fall to the dirty floor. You see Acacius’s eyes raking over your body, taking in every curve like he’s seeing you for the first time rather than the hundreth.

“You are as beautiful as the gods, my dulcissima,” he mumbles, pulling you back onto his lap, one hand securely placed on your back to keep you from falling into the water behind you.

He’s careful not to lean on his bad side as he sneaks his free hand between your bodies, dragging it down ever so slowly until he reaches your mound, his index finger drawing a few circles around your bundle of nerves before moving on, a smile spreading over his lips when he finds wetness waiting for him between your legs.

You feel your breath catch in your throat as he inserts a finger without warning, the size of them always taking you slightly by surprise. His moves are shallow, never quite pulling his finger out completely but always keeping you on that delicious edge. When he adds a second one and starts curling them, he has you whimpering almost immediately.

“Marcus, please—”

“I thought I was Acacius to you. Just to make sure you do not—how did you put it—slip up,” he mumbles, a smirk on his face. The groan you intend to sound annoyed comes out much more desperate than you would like.

“You know we have to be careful—” you try to start, but with his fingers inside you, your brain simply does not work the way it usually does.

“One of these days, I’ll make you my wife,” he mumbles into your ear, his voice so low you can barely hear it. Without taking his eyes off yours, his thumb finds the spot that, combined with his words, almost drives you over the edge. “And you’ll live with me and we can make as many babies as you want.”

It catches you off-guard, but not in an unpleasant way. It’s just a fantasy, one that may very well be unattainable, but you like to let your mind drift there regardless. Judging by the twitch his cock gives against your skin, you’re clearly not the only one who does.

At that thought, you manage to hold off a bit longer and reach for him in return, enjoying the way his breath catches in his throat when your hand wraps around his attention-starved cock. His gaze flies down, to your bodies already so intertwined, touching each other impatiently. And you know he craves it as much as you do—to be even closer, to feel the weight of him nestled inside of you.

“You are so dirty,” he whispers, withdrawing his hand and making you whine at the loss. He wipes at some of the dirt on your thigh, mixing it with your own juices.

“And you seem to rather enjoy that,” you mumble back, squeezing him slightly. An affirmative chuckles leaves his throat before he lifts you up and lowers you into the small bath in front of him, the warm water immediately soothing your body.

He follows a moment later, stepping into the blue mass. A few petals swirl around on the surface, stirred by your movements in the water as he pulls you close again, his body seemingly all around you as he wraps you in his arms. Then he lowers his head, trailing kisses over your collarbone and down your skin until he reaches your chest, grazing his teeth over your hardened nipple.

“Marcus—” you whine, impatiently pressing your body into his, attempting to get any friction, a task made even harder by the water around you. “I want you inside, please.”

“Always so polite, Anaticula,” he mumbles into your skin but he does satisfy himself with one more nip at your skin before pulling back. “Is that what you want?”

You nod impatiently and feel him lining himself up below you, gently directing you towards the far edge of the bath, where he immediately braces himself against the wall for support with you in his arms—and just a moment later, you can feel him sink into you.

Your bodies mold together, his cock making you feel so deliciously full and complete. You can hear him grunt as he begins to thrust into you gently, his hands on your hips as he guides you onto him again and again, making you moan into his neck as you cling on, half a mind not to touch his injury.

Acacius groans your name, his movements speeding up slightly. “Come on, I want to see your pretty face, dulcissima.” You pull back enough to see him and press your forehead against his. Your thumb comes up to wipe a spot of dirt off his face and brush over his beard, the hairs of it more gray than dark, like they were when you first met, and for a few moments, you both just stare at each other as the water around you ripples with your movements.

“Let go for me.” It's just a whisper—and one you don’t think you could ignore if you tried. You feel the wave wash over you, your vision going weak as you fall apart—knowing that Acacius will hold you close until you’re put together again. You barely notice that he follows suit, spilling himself inside of you with whispered promises of all the things you’ll have one day.

You stay intertwined in the water like that for a while. Eventually, you begin to gather some in your hand and let it run down Acacius’s scalp, beginning to wash the dried blood out of the gray-streaked hair.

“You are going to let me put a proper bandage on your cut once we get out,” you state, earning a loyal nod from him. His eyes are searching yours again, carrying the soft look you know is reserved for you.

“I did come back,” he whispers, voice thick with emotion and you suddenly feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

“I know.”

You kiss him softly and he kisses you back just as softly as you curl into him, inhaling his scent and pulling him close and ever closer, determined to let noone take you from him.

thank you for reading! feel free to follow my socials or leave a comment if you want more of slutty roman men <3

[gia-d]

Back in October last year, I started reading This is an Adjuration by @not-freyja.

By the time I had made it to chapter 5, I had already started typesetting this story as I read because I knew this would be one of those stories that I needed to have on my shelf.

When I finally caught up to the story at chapter 31, I begged the author to let me bind this when it was finished.

Nearly a year later, and what is probably the most important bind of my life is finally finished. Check out these glamour shots, and if you want to hear more about the actual binding process and about how this fic actually changed my life, see below.

So funny story, before I get into the technical side of this bind, but this fic actually changed my life. Not as in I was greatly emotionally moved by the story, though don't get me wrong I absolutely was, but genuinely this fic introduced me to some of the best people I have ever had to privilege of knowing (Hello Class, you know who you are 🩷), and also, it introduced me to Freyja, the incredibly talented author, who, as I type this, is curled up in bed next to me fast asleep after flying half way around the world to go on a two week long date with me.

Moral of the story folks is comment on the fics you like. You might accidentally meet the love of your life on, and I can't believe I'm saying this, AO3.

Anyways, about the bind!

This bind was a challenge from day 1. I had to do the typeset for this 300k word fic 4 times, and had to split it across 2 volumes. This was the longest fic I have ever attempted to bind, and it was so thick I couldn't get it in the paper trimmer.

To make this book as durable as possible, I attempted a few techniques. I secured it with 3 tapes, I made an Oxford hollow, I rounded the spine, I made a slipcase and I used 2.3mm boards where normally I use 1.8mm.

The slipcase is covered with embossed faux leather, buckram and plain ribbon, and lined with gold satin fabric. I've never made a slipcase before so this was an experience.

The books are covered with an emerald green silk finish bookcloth which really gave the books the luxury they deserved. I foiled custom end papers as well as every chapter title page using heat reactive transfer foil on toner ink (never again I am never doing that again omg it took days). Huge thank you to @la-sera for letting me use her artwork which helped inspire this fic!

The grey flashback chapters I had to use HTV for the border decoration and I'm very happy with how that turned out because it was so easy and straight forward, unfortunately it just wasn't viable for the whole book.

It feels weird to finally have these books done. They have my blood, sweat, tears and my heart poured into them, and I've been working on them for so long that it's odd to actually have them finished. I'm so proud of this bind, and feel like I've grown so much as a fanbinder by making these.

Anyways, if anyone has any questions about the process, please don't hesitate to ask!

(and if you are an Linked Universe fan and haven't read Adjuration yet, this is your sign!)

[rainydayathogwarts]

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone - Sirius Black

"Hey I ought to leave the young thing alone, but ain't no sunshine when she's gone."

warnings: smut, age gap 1.2k wc

Sirius hadn't been the one to make the first move. That was his excuse for all the disapproving glances Remus shot his way. Young, and high enough of authority to encourage Fred and George's antics in a way that was discouraged by the other adults in the house, everyone saw you as a trouble maker seductress who would only cause turmoil in Sirius's life. But despite this, Sirius was a goner the instant you sent him a flirtatious smile, cornering him in the kitchen of his own house.

Being one of the youngest high ranking aurors at the ministry of magic, your name had quickly been brought up in a meeting at the order of the phoenix, the team desperately needing an inside link. Chasing you down wasn't difficult, and nor was recruiting you. You'd shared all the beliefs order members had, and were attending meetings from the very start, providing the others with information that was impressive for an agent in her early 20's.

The first time you'd spoken to Sirius alone, you were inevitably nervous, accidentally hitting your hip against the corner of the table as you went to put your mug in the sink. He had amusedly asked if you were okay, a hand coming up to rest on the small of your back. That made you panic even more, eyes scanning the close proximity between you, and you nodded, scratching the nape of your neck shyly. "I'm Sirius, by the way." You'd shaken the hand he offered, introducing yourself to the man. And apparently, after that interaction you hadn't found him nearly as scary, waiting for meetings to be over so you could speak to the older man, catching up with him about life.

You realised after a while that you always had so much more to say about your day, having come straight to the manor from work, still wearing your heels and uncomfortably tight blouse that always had the top button open, but made you look absolutely incredible. Meanwhile, Sirius will have been at the manor all day, only interacting with people who came in and out of the house, otherwise spending his days alone. He knew he should have turned down your offer. The chance of him getting caught was just too high, but you insisted. "It's not a far walk from here, and your animagus form can disguise you perfectly."

It was the first breath of fresh air Sirius had gotten since he escaped, and he felt himself look at you in admiration the whole way to your apartment. He wondered how you walked in those heels. Marvelled at how you weren't cold in those thin tights and skirt that was just a tad bit too short to wear to work but long enough for you to get away with. When you finally turned the key into the entrance door of your building, letting Sirius into the apartment complex, he was able to see the mischievous smile on your face. He didn't what what overtook him, but he was aimlessly following you up to your apartment, and accepting the glass of wine you offered him.

"To your first adventure as a free man, Sirius Black." His gaze stuck to you, staring as you took a sip from your glass. Time slowed as a drop of wine slipped between your lips and the glass, landing on your crisp white blouse. His jaw went slack when you gasped, fingers immediately flying to unbutton your blouse, revealing your chest to him for a quick second before you were rushing to your kitchen sink and ridding your top from its red stain. Sirius downed his glass of wine before putting it down, taking three long strides to stand by you at the sink. You sighed, spinning around to face him, a wild glint in your eyes when you saw him struggle to keep his eyes levelled with yours. You pulled him closer to you by his sweater, letting him stumble closer to you. Leaning forward, your lips found his in a kiss, which was quickly sped up by Sirius, hands finding your hips to press your body against his. His beard scratched your chin lightly as he deepened the kiss, tongue battling with yours over dominance which he effortlessly won over.

Almost fourteen years without kissing someone does something to a man, you thought, when he had you pressed tightly against your mattress, thrusting into you from the back so harshly that you were sure the bed would break. Your moans serenaded him, encouraging him to quicken his pace until he physically couldn't hold himself back anymore. His orgasm hitting him faster than he would have liked, Sirius laid back on the bed next to you, apologising profusely. "It's been so long." He cried, accepting the kisses you pressed onto his jaw, an arm wrapped around your waist, as though to keep you from leaving him. But with the way you threw a leg over his thighs, pulling your body on top of his, it was clear you weren't done with him yet.

Sirius groped your tits, nipples grazing his chest while you continued to suck hickeys onto his neck, one hand stroking his cock for him to get hard again. When you felt him hardening, you were quick to sink down onto him, bouncing on top of him whilst he cursed, eyes glued to your figure. You put your hands on his chest to support you, caressing his tatted skin while he began regaining his senses, a hand coming up to touch your pussy, rubbing circles on your clit. You moaned, thighs beginning to burn as you resorted to grinding down onto Sirius's cock instead of bouncing. "I got you, sweetheart." He mumbled, bucking his hips up to help roll you over, making your cry out at the sudden pain from his harsh thrust.

Sirius began thrusting into you again with a steady pace, one hand playing with your clit as he leaned over you, catching your lips in another kiss. His chains dangled over your chest, jingling with each thrust Sirius pushed into you, panting into the kiss. He switched to press kisses to your neck instead, his pace slowing when you wrapped your legs around his torso, pushing his cock deeper into you. You whined, pushing your chest up into his as you threw your head back, nails dragging down his back in pleasure. "Please" You muttered, making Sirius press harder against your clit as his thrusts slowed down, not wanting to disappoint you again. He felt your cunt clamp down around his cock as you came, moaning loudly.

Sirius's thrusts slowed, and he pulled out of you, not wanting to overstimulate you. "Shit!" He cried when your hand chased his cock, wrapping around it to jerk him off, making him cum for the second time that night. He slumped against the bed, inhaling your scent mixed with the smell of sex, and shut his eyes for the night. Next time, you're not even going to have to invite him over before he'll be pouncing on you, fingers crossing to not get caught bending you over in the living room at Grimmauld pace.

[pityroadart]

Here's my piece for the @mcspirkevents Big Bang! I was paired with the excellent @twinkboimler and their fic Jim Kirk's Guide to Delivering the Goods, which you can find here (E, AOS McSpirk, 60k)

Summer just started, and Jim is bored out of his mind. The courses he needs to take aren’t being offered until the second half of the summer, so he has an entire month to bother his roommate Bones. At Bones’ suggestion to get a job, Jim fixes up a motorbike and starts making deliveries to people in town, including a cute Vulcan professor named Spock. But when Jim is beaten up while making a delivery, it’s Spock who delivers Jim back to the apartment he shares with Bones. After the meet-cute from hell, Spock and Bones start dating… and so do Jim and Spock. With neither roommate aware they’re both dating the same man, there’s only so long that things can go well for them before the other shoe finally drops.

Also as part of my Big Bang offerings, I made a fic playlist (below) — partly a love letter to McSpirk, partly a love letter to myself and Fletcher's overlapping music taste.

Thank you again to Fletcher @twinkboimler for working on this project with me, it's been an absolute joy!

Until the Birds Return on Spotify

Tracks and choice lyrics below the cut (contains vague spoilers):

Astronaut | Future Crib

I wanna be an astronaut Fly into space I wanna see Mars from Venus I wanna go to that place And if you come with me They'll be room in my ship I'll take you up there with me It can be just you and me

Afraid of Heights | boygenius

I never rode a motorcycle I never smoked a cigarette I wanna live a vibrant life But I wanna die a boring death

Day by Day | Old Sea Brigade

Time and time again, I think I'm falling through space And I wake up in my bed just sweating in sheets

... Then I think of you growing old and it breaks my heart

Factories | Autoheart

When you found my body by the lake You wasn't sure if I was still alive

You and Your Friend | Snake River Conspiracy

Must we go run through our lives with our eyes closed To the loving happiness that we can share I think I'm in love with you and your friend

My Gal, My Guy | Darlingside

My (guy) he's the bluest ocean, (he) Waits under the bluest sky for me I belong to (him) When I'm in the water

Santa Fe | Autoheart

Heaven sent You were like a present I should not have kept A sticker on your forehead saying 'breakable And I broke you bad

Coat on a Hook | The National

Two days, we're still not talking You're the opposite of an open book Come back for me

Top to Toe | Fenne Lily

So I'm changing all my days To make your nights It's just not right

Pigeon Song | Patrick Wolf

Now the pigeons gather 'round my feeding hand And we talk 'til the evening fades I have learnt how it goes What you wait for never shows And what you least wanted, holds you down like a stone

Hornets | The National

But I don't wanna leave And I don't wanna hide I just don't wanna run Into you tonight

Tea, Milk & Honey | Oh Pep!

If you stick with me, I'll make sure your time is all right If you don't understand where I am now, it's better if we leave it

The Spiritual | Jukebox the Ghost

We might have kissed a bit too soon I could feel what was coming and I didn't mean to hurry you I just knew that time would find our fingers linked, through and through Forgive me, I'm human too

Bike Dream | Rostam

Two boys, one to kiss your neck And one to bring you breakfast Get you out of bed

Don't Go | Yazoo

Can't stop now Don't you know I ain't never gonna let you go

Jenny | The Mountain Goats

I hopped on back of the bike, wrapped my arms around you I sank my face into your hair And then I inhaled as deeply as I possibly could You were sweet and delicious as the warm desert air And you pointed your headlamp toward the horizon We were the one thing in the galaxy God didn't have his eyes on 900 cc's of raw whining power, no outstanding warrants for my arrest

Old Old Fashioned | Josh Ritter (Frightened Rabbit cover)

Oh let's get old fashioned Back to how things used to be If I get old, old fashioned Would you get old, old fashioned with me?

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Coming home to you

Written for @steddiesmuttyseptember, week 2

Prompts: Soft and slow & Clothes on

Words: 1,339

Rated: E

Tags: Post-Vecna; Everybody lives; Established relationship; Kindergarten teacher Steve; Domestic fluff; Fluff and smut; Soft dom Eddie; sub Steve; Groping; Dry humping; coming in pants

Eddie is halfway through composing an absolutely sick riff when the front door slams shut. The sound rattles the walls of the apartment and sends one of their framed photos askew. Eddie blinks, pulling off his headphones and taking a few moments to get his bearings. It’s starting to turn dark outside and his stomach is rumbling. Shit, for how long was he out? 

“Stevie? You home?” he calls, but the apartment stays quiet, bar for the creak of the bedroom door and the thud of a body hitting the mattress. Eddie frowns, setting the guitar aside and padding across the hallway. 

A look into their bedroom reveals Steve, spread out on the bed like a starfish. His shoes are lying by the foot end, but that’s as far as he’s managed to undress before collapsing face-down into the sheets. 

“Hey,” Eddie says, sinking down onto the bed and laying a comforting hand on his ankle. “Rough day?” 

“wha dof ip loolie?” Steve says into the mattress. 

Eddie doesn’t rise to the bait, just laughs lightly and crawls further onto the bed, hand migrating from Steve’s ankle up to the small of his back. “Wanna talk about it?” 

Steve’s back rises and falls under the weight of his enormous sigh, but he does turn his head to unstick his face from the pillows. 

“Josh and Christopher got into another fistfight at lunch. Ever tried prying two five-year-olds out of a fistfight? They're at perfect level with your crotch.” 

“Ouch,” Eddie winces, fingers creeping under the hem of Steve’s polo to caress the dip of his spine, just over the waistband of his jeans. 

Steve huffs. “Yeah, ouch. I had to call their parents about it, and you know how Josh's mom is, her son's a perfect little angel in her eyes. And while she was busy yelling at me, the rest of the group got into the finger paint, so guess who's been cleaning the classroom all afternoon.” 

His eyes are large and round and miserable as he looks up. There's a big smudge of pink paint just below his hairline, and Eddie feels something unbearably fond flutter in his chest. 

“I dunno,” Steve shrugs. It turns into a weird, twitchy kind of movement, what with the way he’s still very much embedded in the mattress. “Sometimes I think this isn’t the job for me after all.”

“Aw, baby,” Eddie coos. He shifts so that he’s lying next to Steve, gently coaxing him to turn to his side, so that they are facing each other. “You were made for this job. The kids love you, and what’s some bitchy moms if you’ve fought an interdimensional war?” 

Steve huffs a dry laugh, fingers linking at the base of Eddie’s neck. “Are you suggesting I bring the nail bat to my next Meet the Teacher day?”

“That would be so fucking sexy,” Eddie murmurs, and lets himself be pulled in. 

It starts out innocently enough. A soft press of lips against lips, the gentle tickle of hands running through hair, that beautifully warm feeling blooming in his chest as Steve melts into his touch. Steve sighs against his mouth, low and content, and Eddie nips lightly at his bottom lip, asking for entrance. For a while, they lose themselves in the lazy glide of spit and tongues, legs tangling in the sheets, hands roaming over the familiar curves of shoulders and chests and hips. It's only when Eddie’s hands start fumbling for the fly of Steve’s pants that Steve makes a reluctant sound and breaks the kiss.

“What's wrong?” Eddie asks. “The headaches again?” 

“No,” Steve smiles at him, bashful and soft in the fuzzy light of the darkening room. “Just … fucking exhausted I guess. Sorry, I don't think I'll be up to it today. Can't even muster the energy to take off my clothes, leave alone-” 

“Oh?” Eddie says, cupping the very obvious bulge in Steve's pants and grinning at the startled gasp it gets him. “Don’t worry, baby. You won’t have to take off a thing.” 

Steve laughs, hoarse and breathy with arousal. “What are you on about, huh? There’s no way in hell you can get me off with my clothes o-oh.” 

He trails off into a low moan, forehead sagging against the crook of Eddie’s neck, long lashes tickling Eddie’s skin. 

“Oh yeah?” Eddie asks around a chuckle. His one hand continues palming Steve through the fabric of his pants, feeling him grow hard under his touch, while the other splays against the small of his back, pulling him closer. “I bet I can. I bet it’s easy. You’re so responsive, baby, so eager for me to take you apart. Give me half an hour and I’ll have you coming in those pants.” 

“Fucking show-off,” Steve snorts, but his hips have started rolling in slow, rhythmic motions to meet Eddie’s touch. His lips tickle Eddie’s pulse. “Go on then. Prove it.” 

“Gladly, sweetheart,” Eddie says, letting his voice drop to that gravelly rumble that Steve likes. The one that always makes Steve go soft and pliant in his hands, trusting Eddie to do whatever he wants with him. And damn, if he isn’t the luckiest bastard in the world for it. “Your wish is my command, you know that.” 

He presses his lips to that magnificent head of hair, and Steve’s cock twitches in his hand. 

*

“Eddie.” 

Eddie chuckles, teeth grazing the shell of Steve’s ear. He always loves it when Steve says his name, but especially like this. Like a plea. Like a prayer. 

“Hm, baby? What do you need?” 

“Please,” Steve babbles, then swallows and licks his lips, remembering he’s supposed to use his words. “Please, I need to come.” 

“Aw, honey,” Eddie laughs, caressing the curve of Steve’s ass. They’re still lying on their sides, Eddie’s leg wedged firmly between Steve’s thighs, Steve panting into the crook of his neck. His cock is rock-hard in the tight confines of his jeans. Hard just from humping Eddie’s leg, just from Eddie whispering sweet filth in his ear, Eddie’s hands and lips teasing him in all those places he likes to be teased. “But your half hour isn’t even close to over.” 

Steve moans, desperate and broken, and it’s the most delicious sound in the world. When he rocks his hips to grind himself against Eddie’s leg, Eddie cups his ass to pull him flush against him, and the moan turns into a sob. 

“Fuck it, I can’t- … Please, Eddie, I’m so close, I need to- Please, please, please let me come.”

Did Eddie mention he’s the luckiest motherfucker in the whole goddamn world? 

“Of course you may come, Stevie,” he says, brushing back a sweaty strand of chestnut hair and kissing Steve’s temple. “Go ahead.” 

Steve does before he even finishes the sentence, shattering apart with a hoarse scream, and Eddie takes him by the jaw to guide him into a long, languid kiss, licking the sound right out of his mouth. He continues to kiss him while Steve trembles through the aftershocks, only pulling him against his chest when he finally collapses in a boneless heap. 

“Feeling better now?” 

“So much better,” Steve slurs. His smile is bright and off-kilter as he leans up for a peck on the lips. “There’s only one small problem.” 

“Oh? What’s that?” Eddie yawns, stretching his arms above his head and making himself comfortable in the pillows. 

Steve shifts, the movement warm and sticky against Eddie’s leg. 

“Well, I definitely need to shower now,” he declares. “But I’m still so fucking tired. I’ll be lucky if I even manage to undress, leave alone clean myself up.” 

Eddie stares at him. “What, seriously? Fifteen minutes ago, you were ready to fall asleep on me and now you want seconds?” 

“You got a problem with that?” Steve winks, tangling their hands together and pulling him off the bed and towards the bathroom. “I thought my wish was your command.” 

And well … Eddie can’t really argue with that, can he? 

More smutty September

[thekeeperof-thefandoms]

I asked a few of my favorite hazbin writers this and only one answered and it was ok but I felt like it could have been expanded on so here's my take

Vox, Val, Alastor, and Lucifer react to your love language being baking/cooking

Vox

(Starting with him because he's the one thaf inspired this).

Vox came from the 50s and even though I firmly believe he is past all the ingrained gender roles and homophobia I think he still has some internalized misogyny. He wants to be viewed as the man in the relationship, the breadwinner, the provider. He can cook for himself but it's pretty basic food (except steak. Like every other man since the invention of the grill how to bbq has been hardwired into his brain. If his partner also grills ya'll fight over whose turn to cook out it is)

(Unrelated but as a lesbian who loves to grill, and is the designated grill bro, butch lesbians or cookout lesbians are some of Vox's favorite type of gays to chill with)

I firmly believe that's why even though he's a sub, it's so hard and would take time and trust to get him to let you top and enjoy it. He's so worried people will find out and judge him, that you'll judge him. His ego can be very fragile.

Especially if we go with the Vox used to be a cult leader theory. His power, image, and success are linked to his ability to appear in control. To appear to have all the answers and take responsibility. It's going to take a lot of time and patience to unravel all that and help him seperate his personal and professional image.

That being said, a partner who uses acts of service as a love language is perfect for him. He's a busy man, so he tends to be a gift giver type. The gifts are always well thought out and expensive. He wants it to be something you need, want, can get a lot of enjoyment from, and be worth the money spent, so he puts time and effort into them. Unless he's just showing off by giving you his card and telling you to go nuts.

So you taking time to make his coffee for him the way he likes, ordering lunch from his favorite places and having it sent to his office so he remembers to eat, or just texting him reminders to drink water or eat/take breaks throughout the day makes him giddy.

If you're his assistant or something, (and I believe Vox absolutely would have his partner working for him/with him), then it's even better when you take on extra work to try and help him. Organizing his schedule, sorting emails/mail, and proofreading things. Any small act you do for him, because you want to and care about him, makes his heart rate pick up.

It'll really make him overheat, glitching slightly, literal heart eyes, if he comes home after a shitty day and you're cooking for him.

His internal monologue is absolutely raving about what a good housewife you are for him, a hard working husband.

Bonus points if you cleaned too! Either way, he adores you even more now, letting you fret and coo at him, removing his jacket and tie, pouring him a drink and telling him dinner will be ready soon and you made his favorite. He's so tempted to bend you over the counter right now, but that would ruin dinner. After you guys eat though, he's having you for dessert. Man's gonna make sure you know how much he appreciates this by turning your knees to jello, good luck walking tomorrow, doll.

If you bake treats and bring them to VoxTek he's gonna brag so much. Literally the embodiment of John Mulaney's, "That's my wife!" If you bring them just for him, he's defending his treats like they're the last ones in Hell. He has literally hit Val with a fly swatter for even asking if he could have one.

(Unrelated but like, chubby vox maybe? You're cooking is too good)

Valentino

Val wishes he could cook better. He's some kind of latino, so I feel like the fact he can't cook very well is a sore spot culturally. He can make the salsa and chips and like, help with stuff, he knows how to wrap tortillas and tomales (I picture him as like Mexican or Puerto Rican but that's just cuz the town I grew up had a large Puerto Rican group).

It doesn't help that his eyesight is even more shit in Hell. He can't see what he's doing hald the time. It ruins his art hobby too. He's overall just more easily frustrated with his bad eyesight.

I don't imagine you guys dating per se. Maybe you're his sugar baby, maybe you're someone he hired to help him do stuff like clean and organize and you just sorta start doing other things to help him. (Again I'm not saying it excuses jackshit, but as someone who worked with bipolar people and people with mood disorder I kinda see the fan theory in him, either way I think all the Vees could be sort of trained to be better people, but especially Val. We already saw Vox do it.)

After all, he's usually in a much better mood if you do and that means less outbursts. The first few times you cook him something he teases you about being his housewife, tries to make it sexual. It's not really something he clocks as being an act of love because I don't think you'd realize it yourself at first. I think the more you got to see him when he wasn't stressed, lashing out, being abusive, you'd start catching feelings. ("I can fix him", delulu asses)

He loves to be in the kitchen when you cook once it starts becoming a regular thing. He can't see clearly what you're doing but the way you move around the kitchen and get what you need, even if you're an ADHD mess and do steps out of order or at random, he can tell you know what you're doing. He likes to smell the food too while it's cooking.

He will ask you to try and make some spicier/more traditional foods he grew up with, but he doesn’t remember all of the ingredients, and it just gets him more frustrated he can't tell you. If you look them up and surprise him with it it'll probably be the most genuine, human response you get from him.

He's shocked, silent, standing frozen in the penthouse as familiar smells waft around him. You present him a plate nervously, practically shaking hoping it's good enough. The first bite nearly puts him in tears. No one's done anything this nice for him? Why would you? Lowkey thinks you want something from him. It's gonna make him paranoid for a while so don't expect a verbal compliment but he eats it all.

Eventually though, one day when you're in the kitchen cooking, humming softly and swaying your hips, one set of his arms will wrap around your waist, the other reaching around you help with the salsa, or wrap a tamale, and he'll prop his chin on your head and mumble out thanks. Some praise, maybe. Would definitely tell you stories about eating these foods growing up.

It's the first step towards having an actual relationship with him.

Alastor

This man almost always insists on cooking. He isn't much of a sweet tooth either. You tell him one night you want to try cooking for him. Tell him you understand it's an activity he enjoys and relaxes too, (especially if you know it's something that reminds him of his mother), but you want to do something for him and this is one way you show you care.

It's gonna remind him of his Mama so much that if you didn't know why he loved cooking so much before you do now. He compromises. You pick the meal and gather the ingredients and do most of the cooking and he helps prep and does dishes.

He playfully critiques you the entire time about adding some spice too it or a little southern flair. Just smack him with the wooden spoon, gently. It's gonna make him laugh because his Mama used to do that when he wouldn't keep out of the sweets, or tried to add stuff to her cooking.

Once you start it becomes habit to help each other in the kitchen every night, trading off who cooks and who preps and does dishes.

If you do find baked goods he likes that aren't too sweet and send them to him as snacks, especially to Overlord meetings, he's so fucking obnoxious about his sweet little doe (doesn't matter if you are one or not) and how they spoil him. Especially rubs it in Vox's face (not him whining to his partner so they send him with treats too so he can also brag).

Only shares with Charlie, Rosie, Niffty, and sometimes Zestiel. If he's feeling generous, Husk can have a bite.

Low-key also has a thing for his partner behaving domestically even if he isn't exactly invested in traditional marriage.

Favorite activity though is dancing with you in the kitchen to jazz while dinner cooks, holding you close, in his room usually, so he can hear the sounds of the bayou. If he closes his eyes he can pretend this is how his life went and that his Mama is in the corner or sitting in her chair, watching him, happy to see him find someone.

He will literally kiss Vox willingly before admitting that last part though.

Lucifer

It's not that he can't cook, it's just....it's easier to just snap his fingers and make food appear. He's been in a depressed slump for decades man, he's lived off of the 'want food, no cook, only eat' mindset.

When you come into his life it's a complete overhaul. Despite what issues you have yourself you can recognize someone in worse state than you and immediately categorize and prioritize. First thing first, get this man's duck collection/obsession organized, thinned out, and under control.

Second, help him work through his issues with Lillith and Charlie. Encourage therapy, be a mediator between him and Charlie (and trust me she appreciates it. She knows her dad struggles, didn't know how bad, and still feels awkward). Help him socialize more, rebuild his connection with the other sins.

Get this man a work schedule!

Then it's on to personal habits. You help him get out of bed, you're both probably a little helpless in the sleeping on time category though. Help him get a routine again to keep out of his funk. Then you start cooking for him. It just happens naturally. You enjoy cooking, you enjoy showing people you love how much you care by providing good meals.

At first he's gonna resist and tell you he can handle that, you already do so much for him. He can cook or better yet he can just make it appear and you laugh and tell him it tastes better when it's made with love. He brushes it off as a joke too, you're both just being silly and obviously you said that to get him to quit fussing. Except, unholy hell does it actually taste so much better.

Lucifer hadn’t realized how bland and unsatisfying just materializing the food was. Maybe that's because he was so depressed and uninterested in what he ate, maybe not. Either way, your cooking is so much fucking better. He actually looks forward to eating now. If he gets caught up in work or has a bad day, you make sure to always bring him something, leaving it as an offering of sorts. It almost always works and entices him to eat at least once.

You cook, he does dishes, and he will not budge on that rule. He wants to be a fair man. He occasionally boots you out to do dessert, though. Apple pie is his bitch and you've never tasted one as good as his. He also makes good pancakes and some absolutely orgasmic angel's food cake.

Ironicall, devil's food cake is one of your go to recipes. Sometimes you both make a cake and take it to events just to watch people get confused as fuck when it's revealed the literal Devil did not make the devil's food cake.

Everyime you're in the kitchen together it's a disaster, you're both to silly and chaotic. You were making noodles one time and he threw flour at you so you smacked him with the noodle you were holding, leaving a line of flour and a speck of dough against his cheek. From there it escalates. It happens every time. Making cakes together, you're smashing frosting on each other. Making cookies, you're fighting each other to stop eating cookie dough.

Once, after you get fed up with him stealing her spatula to lick the chocolate off of, hovering above you with his wings, you pout and bat your eyes, asking him sweetly to please give it back. He swoops down in front of you, booping your nose to smear chocolate on it and leaning in to kiss you, letting you have a taste of the chocolate batter you were mixing for brownies. While his tongue is in your mouth, drunk off the taste of you and chocolate you smash an egg over his head and let out a triumphant cheer, snatching back your spatula.

He's so stunned his wings disappear and he drops the last few inches to the ground while you cackle. His heart is pounding, his ears are ringing, and his chest feels like it's gonna explode. His eyes are literal sparkles. He hasn't felt this much joy, wonder, and love since Charlie was born. It feels like witnessing creation all over again, of the breathlessness he felt when he first saw Lillith.

You're laughter stops when you realize he's just staring at you awestruck and you smile, asking if he's ok.

"For once...yeah..Yes. I'm ok." He responds, genuinely. You kiss his cheek and resume baking. He watches you from the counter now, dreamily, thinking about how he's gonna marry you someday.

[ofmermaidstories]

SUMMARY: The call to be a Pro Hero has never been a question—not for Katsuki Bakugou, explosive and guarded, nor for Izuku Midoriya, protective and determined, and certainly not for Shouto Todoroki, who’s family legacy hangs over him like a shadow. Years after the War that upended Hero Society, these three men have helped rebuild a path to Pro Heroism for the next generation, tentatively heralding a new era of hope. But there’s danger lurking in this rebuilt world, danger that has the power to rekindle old fears and usher in new resentments, and as the trio branch out to find and end these threats, they each encounter a new challenge along the way—colliding with someone unexpected, and falling in love.

(A Pro Hero x Reader Trilogy; in which falling in love is a random chance all at once chaotic and exhilarating and incredible, for each of the Big Three)

The premise is simple: three heroes, three fics, and three different lives to live. Named for the Katy Perry song, The One That Got Away, the In Another Life trilogy was originally intended to be a series of five stand-alone fics that evolved, fairly quickly, into what we have today: three interconnected stories that let our Reader-inserts move throughout the My Hero Academia world, and eventually find where—and who with—they belong.

Started in 2020 when the manga was still on-going, the fics have diverged from the canon Horikoshi’s given us both in small and large ways. Despite where they separate (and where the fics have to stay faithful to their own canon, now), it’s always been my hope that they read like the love letters they are—to My Hero, to the boys, and to x reader fic at large.

i’m running to your side—flying my white flag

1. surrender (whenever you’re ready) [Explicit] — ao3

93k+

Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

COMPLETED ✔️

SUMMARY: You first meet Ground Zero when he's thrown, unceremoniously, through the glass window of your florist shop.

(In which Bakugou cannot stand flowers but finds himself coming back, anyway)

i’ve been reading books of old—the legends and the myths

2. something (just like this) [Explicit] — ao3

203k+

Izuku Midoriya x Reader

COMPLETED ✔️

SUMMARY: It probably says a lot about you that your first thought on meeting Deku, international Symbol of Peace, isn't something like "Oh, wow," or, "Oh he's so nice," but is instead the un-Plus Ultra thought of, "I definitely would've bullied him, in high school."

At least until those muscles came in.

(In which Midoriya is an absolute nerd for the release of his own hero-inspired comic book series—and the artist responsible for it)

all your flaws and scars are mine

3. still (falling for you) [Explicit] — ao3

TDB

Shouto Todoroki x Reader

WIP 🕙

SUMMARY: The first time you and Shouto cross paths, he nearly drowns you.

(In which Todoroki meets a jeweller by the sea, and learns the difference between the value of the lessons he's been given—and the precious things he chooses to keep)

🚧 UNDER CONSTRUCTION 🚧

i am actively adding to and editing this section, still. if you think something is missing, or you have something you’d like included, please let me know!!! i am going through all the posts and links i do have, manually, so i may still miss something and would love a gentle reminder. 🌷

🚧 🏗️ 🧱🔨🔧🪛 🚧

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] do u think bakugou ever gets so angry his mouth misses [Readers] when they’re making out?

Katsuki’s home for once, sleeping off the last few days in the darkness of his room, cocooned.

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] what type of jewellery would Bakugou gift [Reader], if any at all?

The first gift Katsuki gives you after Christmas is a pocket knife.

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] merms, what are bakugou and weeds up to this christmas? :)

Katsuki wakes up before his alarm, before the sun rises—the city spread out beyond his bedroom windows like a carpet of stars.

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] how are weeds and katsuki?

It’s a Wednesday, a normal day, and they are figuring it out.

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] petition for you to write [Reader sending] bakugou horny tweets

light it up like an ELECTRIC STRIKE ⚡️: please please PLEASE Kacchan has blocked me and muted the groupchat PLEASE, I need him to see this, please just send him this ONE THING, PLEASE!!!!!

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] would [it] be important to bakugou for [his parents and weeds] to meet?

Masaru will just scratch the side of his nose under his glasses and think about a younger Mitsuki, who literally would not take no for an answer from him—and a younger Katsuki, who had the same laser-focus when it came to the things he wanted in his life.

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] i am asking for royal au + florist au for [weeds/bakugou]

In his armour still, his forest-green cape, Ser Bakugou is dressed for war—solid and imposing as he stands on your threshold.

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SJLT] what does [Reader] post [to instagram]? + [SWYR] things weeds would post

The one consistent has been art, good, bad and middling.

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [IAL] it’s so cute that SWYR’s reader is a fan of SJLT’s comic

Kacchan has never asked for anything from Izuku—beyond that he doesn’t look down on him (beyond that Izuku live).

[DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] katsuki keeps a pot of strawberries for you in his kitchen;

When they finally fruit he’s disgruntled.

[DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] katsuki’s quieter than usual

So you wait. You let him have his silence, and you fill the space around it with your own presence.

[DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] he tells me he’s gentle when he wants to be—

The bed dipping under Katsuki’s weight wakes you.

[DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] you and bakugou walk home in the rain

“Y’re meant to go home, dipshit,” he says, disapproving

[DRABBLE 📖] [SJLT] bad touch (you and me)

Minoru’s skeleton nearly fists itself out of his asshole when a voice behind him says, “That was a kindness you just did, for Midoriya.”

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] if you were to write surrender today, do you think anything would change?

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] what would have been the moment bakugou knew he had it bad for surrender's reader?

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] have you ever written/imagined Kirishima’s POV [throughout the fic]?

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] idk if you meant her to come off in this way, but [Reader] strikes me as [lonely]

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] i’m literally going to throw up from excitement if you actually make a bakuweeds oneshot collection

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] i am vibrating in my boots with excitement about the [SWYR] one-shot series!

[ASK ❔] [SJLT] did you have any inspiration for the kimono Reader is wearing in SJLT?

[ASK ❔] [SJLT] looking forward to our [gala] wear

[ASK ❔] [SJLT] could we have visuals of Reader’s outfits during the gala?

[ASK ❔] [IAL] double dates

[ASK ❔] [IAL] what city/prefecture does [the series] take place in?

[ASK ❔] [IAL] how [would] the Y/Ns react to fanfic about their heroes?

[PODFIC 🎙️] [SWYR] surrender (whenever you’re ready) — narrated by Chthonianqueen

[PLAYLIST 🎧] [SWYR] surrender (whenever you’re ready) [plays on spotify]

[PLAYLIST 🎧] [SWYR] and i’d give up forever to touch you: a suggested-songs playlist [plays on spotify]

[PLAYLIST 🎧] [SJLT] something (just like this) [plays on spotify]

[PLAYLIST 🎧] [SJLT] like lightning: a suggested-songs playlist [plays on spotify]

[ART ✏️] [IAL] bakugou & weeds, deku and & scribbles & bakugou/weeds, deku/scribbles, monoma/reader — by @groshia

[ART ✏️] [SJLT] you get to witness, in real time, as [Deku] leaps from the now open door — by @getstarried

[ART ✏️] [SJLT] izuku, just izuku. just as he is — by @handlethegbread

[ART ✏️] [SWYR] when you’re bakugou katsuki, — by @okeydokiescribbles

[ART ✏️] [SWYR] haru + the flower shop signs

[MOODBOARD 🖼️] [SJLT] the moodboard trend inspired me to make this little thing

[MOODBOARD 🖼️] [SJLT] SJLT is my all-time favourite fanfic,

[MOODBOARD 🖼️] [SJLT] this is just […] a collection of things that reminded me of this story

[BINDING 📚] surrender & the widening sky — @ladybirdk

[PODCAST 🎙️] Canonically Incorrect, episode 75, season 2: Surrender (Whenever You’re Ready) — 10 December, 2022

[ spotify | apple ]

[PERMISSION STATEMENT:] You are more than welcome to print out any of the fics and bind yourself a copy for personal use, or otherwise record a [non-AI] reading of them, or translate into another language—as long as my ao3 username, OfMermaids, is credited somewhere as having written it. 🥹📚 I also love, love seeing and hearing about the work that goes into the pieces you create for yourselves, so if you’re comfortable with it, I’d love to see a picture of (or get a link to!) your efforts!!

final note:

This series is the result of several years worth of love and work, and most importantly, encouragement from the people who have come along and read the stories in it. Whether this is your first time discovering the trilogy, or you’re otherwise revisiting the boys, this is a note to say thank-you for being here. Thank-you for reading, and for being apart of something that has been so much fun to create. Fandom and fanfiction has always been about sharing the excitement with other people—so thank-you for letting me share mine with you. 🌷📖

[onyourmarkks]

clingy bf jake

The way jake was literally attached to you, people would think he was your son or something. every chance jake got his hands were on you, and although you weren’t a big fan of pda you knew it was his way of being affectionate and feeling safe in public, so you allowed him to. he would link his finger in your belt loop and tug on you when he would want you to come to him. sometimes when he was sitting and you were standing infront of him while speaking, his muscular veiny hands would roam your thighs, your hips, your ass, and he would give each area a squeeze to let you know he was paying attention, you could also see he was paying attention as he stared at you with his brown eyes. jake particularly had a love hate relationship with bringing you around his members, as he loved attaching himself to you, other members would beat him too it, specifically heeseung which made jake exceptionally jealous and pouty. The only way to make him feel better is if you let him lay face down in your boobs, it was always an odd request but it made him happy. even at his concerts he was clingy, before he went on stage he would spend his time cuddling you on the couch, peppering light kisses all over your face, complimenting your pretty face. even after his concert you would think he’s too tired to even think of you, but it’s far from that, you’re all he thought about on stage, he immediately made a beeline towards you after the concert, kissing you and hugging you in his sweaty skin. when he was on tour out of the country and you couldn’t follow him, he would be like a sad dog acting like its owner abandoned it but you just had classes that you absolutely couldn’t miss, jake even offered to fly you out that’s how much he missed you, you obviously couldn’t accept so he decided to come to you.

—

thinkin abt making this longer and with nsfw n**dy se*

[ineffable-suffering]

Why Aziraphale is an unreliable narrator

Part 1: The Story of Job

I'm absolutely not the first one to talk about this on here and I probably shan't be the last either. Alas, here's my take on why all of the minisodes in Season 2 should be enjoyed with great care – and taken with a grain of angelic salt.

I'm gonna split this into 3 parts, aka the three minisodes we are shown, since I tend to get a bit waffley in my posts and want to still be able to include all the little details. Once I've written them, I'll link Part 2 & Part 3 here as well!

Alright, let's get into it under the cut of doom.

Episode 2 opens with the Story of Job. Right off the bat, I noticed that it sort of looks like an old film playing. At first I didn't read that much into it, but once we see the cut-away to Aziraphale at the bookshop, currently reading that part of the Bible (presumably), I immediately thought: "Oh! It's because it's his memory. He's remembering how it went down and therefore it plays like a figurative film in his head."

This, I then came to realize, is a very crucial difference to all the flashbacks of S1, which were exclusively told and narrated by God. May her intensions be as ineffable as they are: She did tell us all of these stories from an objective outsider's point of view. Now, however, it's Aziraphale who's re-telling those stories to us from memory.

And if there's one thing that's for certain, it's that a memory is something entirely different to an objective narration of a story. Just think about how you yourself remember things. Especially things that happened years, maybe even decades (or, in an angel's case, millenia) ago. What is it, that you really remember? Can you know for sure, that a conversation was held with those exact words? Are you 100% certain that the clothes someone wore weren't different? Had it really been snowing or would that make very little sense given what you're remembering happened in May? And did it even happen in May? Or does that just happen to be your favourite month, the current weather, your preferred style of clothing and what it was that you would imagine someone would have said to you?

What I'm trying to say is: The further away it is that something happened, the more your brain has to fill in the gaps. This is why, for example, your parents will remember the family summer holiday entirely different when you ask them about it 20 years later.

"No, it was Sarah who puked on the car ride home!" "Nonsense, Sarah never puked as a child. Bobby had that gone-off pizza, he's the one that was sick the whole ride long!"

We've all been there. Bobby made it out alive. Don't buy gas station pizza.

Alright, back to the plot: Naturally, Aziraphale is not actually human, so it is a pure assumption on my part that the way his memory works is similar to ours. However, the whole topic of "memory" is actually quite a recurring one on Good Omens.

Crowley seems to have lost his in the Fall, yet somehow managed to get most of it back. Not all of it, though, he clearly has some major gaps ("You used to jump on me back, little monkey in the waistcoat!"). Beelzebub helps Gabriel store all his memories in their little fly container before they get wiped entirely too, by the Metatron and/or Saraqael. Crowley and Aziraphale (and possibly Jimbriel) perform a miracle together that makes everyone in Heaven and Hell forget who Garbiel is or what he looks like. And we know that the Book of Life apparently has the ability to completely erase someone from existence – ergo also erasing them from everyone's memory and making it is as though the person had never been in them at all.

So, clearly, angels and demons being able to remember, forget, reconstruct and, if you're the Metadork, wipe memories, is very much canon. Apart from that very last one, it does make them quite human-like in a way. We too can forget or (wrongfully and incompletely) reconstruct memories, due to things like trauma, illness or simply a lot of time having passed.

So, just like Crowley remembers going into battle but doesn't remember Furfur being there, or just like Jimbriel has entierly forgotten who he is but still remembers the tune and lyrics to Buddy Holly's song Everyday, and just like archangel Michael was miraculously made to forget Gabriel and yet says "Don't I know you?" when seeing him again – just like that, Aziraphale's memories of the story of Job, the story of wee Morag and the story of the magic show in 1941, might not actually be the whole truth.

So, time to look at where the furniture isn't.

Now, it could very well be that the costume designers of S2 thought: "Fuck it, let's go crazy" – but given that this show has a track record of meticulously making sure to stick to accurate and cohesive character design, doesn't it strike you as odd that Crowley would go from this look at the Flood in Mesopotamia, 3004 BC:

... to the (very iconic, don't get me wrong) Bildad the Shuhuite drip in 2500 BC:

... back to this at the crucifixion of Jesus Christ in 33 AD:

I mean ... I mean– come on, that seems like a bit of a far stretch, even for someone as enthusiastically experimental with fashion as Crowley.

And it's not just that: Where did the sunglasses come from, all of a sudden? And why do they look like some sort of obscure, ancient optometrist's device? It's a known historical fact that the Romans were the ones to have invented sunglasses, somewhere around 50-ish AD. Which actually matches perfectly with when Crowley and Aziraphale meet again in Rome 8 years after the crucifixion (51 AD).

So, where do the weird spectacles come from, over 2000 years too early? Maybe from Aziraphale's brain filling in some gaps? Hasn't Crowley always worn those ridiculous sunglasses? Was it Rome? Or Golgotha? Wessex? Oh, blimey, what does it matter!

And it's not just Crowley: Aziraphale's own clothes, as well as the other angels', seem to be very different from the rather plain linen we see him wear before and after the story of Job.

They're laced with golden embroidery along the neckline and sleeves. The remind almost of the clothes angels are depicted wearing in biblical and historical drawings. Ornate and decadent. Not at all like we see Aziraphale in the other flashbacks of S1.

Even Bildad the Shuhite's hair within the minisode keeps changing, going from all pouffy and voluminous to rather deflated and straight-looking:

The costume department either had to fix up two seperate wigs or manually straighten out the volume of the one again to give it a more sleek look. I'm not a professional in this field, but if there's anything I've learned from watching hours of behind-the-scenes material of movies and shows, it's that very little about costume, character, prop and set design is purely coincidental.

You know what it could be, though? An accurate representation of how memories aren't linear, historically correct and objective representations of a certain event, but rather an ever-changing, jumbled mess of impressions, emotions and exaggerations.

More specifically: Aziraphale's impression, emotions and exaggerations.

Like "remembering" Crowley with sunglasses because he's been wearing them for so long.

Like "remembering" himself wearing more luxurious, angelic clothes because that's how he thinks of the difference between Heaven and Hell.

Like "remembering" the permit as a ridiculously long scroll that folded out over an entire valley.

Like "remembering" Job's children to be weirdly sassy in an almost Aziraphale-esque way (Enon: "Don't be silly!") for the fact that Job would have probably taught them to be more humble and obedient in the presence of a literal angel.

Like "remembering" eating an entire fucking Ox after having just one bite of it while Crowley watched him lustfully, sipping on his wine.

Like "remembering" Crowley calling him 'angel', despite them having barely known each other back then.

There's a reason why the flashbacks in S2 seem so much more alive, quirky and, at many points, confusing and all over the place. Because they're not objective stories being told by a third party. They're Aziraphale's. So much of his own thoughts and feelings at the time get projected onto them because that's simply how memory works!

It's subjective. It's unrealiable.

It's not that I'm calling Aziraphale a liar. He's no more a liar than your parents are, mixing up Sarah and Bobby. Or you, remembering snow instead of sunshine. Memories aren't lies. They can simply be faulty, focus on things that you thought were more important and leaving out or changing things that weren't, to you.

The real challenge in all of this, is trying to filter through Aziraphale's stories to see what it actually is they're telling us. Where it is that the furniture isn't. And I think in this case, that's 6 main things (eff you, God, I know you like sevens, but I don't care):

God and Satan (still) talk to each other We see that Aziraphale is quite surprised when Muriel mentions that the whole Job thing is God's bet with Satan. But clearly, despite having made him and the rest fall, God still converses with Her number one traitor about whether or not the humans simply love Her because she gives them nice things or because they truly believe in Her.

God and Satan (and Heaven and Hell) can and do collaborate with each other when they feel like it So much for choosing sides, huh? Truthfully, this is not the first time this is shown to us, but still. It's another piece of evidence on the growing pile.

Aziraphale understands the World and humans way better than any of the other angels "Well, you see ... Citis is 58 ..."

Aziraphale, despite having troubles voicing it, absolutely disagrees and even condemns God's plan of destroying Job's children (and goats and camels and––)

Aziraphale is willing to lie and thwart the will of God Also not the first time we're being shown this but again, piiiile of evidence.

Angels don't automatically Fall simply by doing the above To me, this is one of the most important take aways. It's already hinted in S1 as well that 'Falling' seems to have been a one time even back when the first war broke out in Heaven. And I actually believe that ever since then, no other angels have Fallen again. Aziraphale is the best example for this. He has gone against God's plan numerous times and even lied to her very face (voice?) about it. And yet, nothing ever happened to him. Why exactly that is the case remains a topic for another meta (that I might or might not be working on already, teehee).

Alright, that concludes this first look at the Job minisode! If there's anything I missed, feel free to share it with me. I'll try and add Part 2 (the story of wee Morag) and Part 3 (the magic show of 1941) soon.

Update: Part 2 and Part 3 have officially been written, you can find it them right here:

Part 2: The Story of wee Morag

Part 3: The Story of the Magic Show in 1941

Hugs and kisses, (God)!

[turtle--soup]

Okay.

I have not seen ROTTMNT yet, but I've picked up some stuff from just floating around the fandom. Something I've learned, which is discussed in this post here, is that Rise Leo is generally considered - and considers himself the 'Face Man' of the team. (GIFs below are swiped from the linked post by @risestarkiss - I couldn't find them in tumblr's gif search function...)

Anyway. This is interesting to me because I am, for my sins, also a fan of The A-Team.

(I promise this is going somewhere! If you want to find out where I'm going with this, I'll put the rest of the post under a cut because it got a little long...)

For those of you unfamiliar with The A-Team, it's a (very silly) 80s TV series about a group of Vietnam War veterans who are on the run from the government after being convicted of a crime they didn't commit. The four of them spend their lives in hiding, making a living by using their combat skills to help people in need.

Here they are:

Left: Colonel John 'Hannibal' Smith, leader of the team, brains of the outfit and most likely to have become an evil mastermind in an alternate timeline.

Right: Sergeant B.A. Baracus. Nicknamed 'Bad Attitude' due to his lack of patience for bullshit, B.A. is the resident tough guy but also an absolute teddy bear of a man, and is always ready to help people, especially children and the elderly.

Left: Captain H.M. 'Howling Mad' Murdock is the team's pilot and can fly just about anything. As his nickname suggests, he's considered a bit eccentric and is a silly kind of guy. (He's also a permanent resident of a psychiatric hospital but let's not get into that right now.)

Right: Lieutenant Templeton Peck. His role in the team is to provide them with whatever they need, whether that be vehicles, weapons, tools or access to places. He usually achieves this using his charm and wit, gaining him the nickname 'Face Man.'

Okay, so bearing these descriptions in mind, look at Leo's dialogue in this GIF:

I'm assuming that Donnie is the brainy guy, Raph is the smashy guy, and Mikey is the 'eats peanut butter with his fingers guy'. And Leo is the Face Man. That's his role.

But these descriptions fit the members of The A-Team too. Hannibal is the brainy guy, B.A. is the smashy guy, Murdock is the guy who absolutely eats peanut butter with his fingers (while maintaining unbroken eye contact throughout). And then there's Face.

How is this in any way relevant?

Well.

It just so happens that someone else is a fan of The A-Team...

Of course the Mirage turtles watched The A-Team! It was a popular show in the mid-80s, and you have to admit - they do have a lot in common, being four guys fighting injustice from the shadows and all... The A-Team even have a friend on the outside who helps them out - Amy Allen.

She's a reporter. Like someone else we know...

But which of the Mirage turtles in the image above is suggesting they should watch The A-Team?

According to this bio card from 1990 that coincides with the 1987 series...

... it might be Leo!

Was this intentional on the part of the Rise writers? I don't know!

Is it relevant? Probably not!

Does this tentative link between these two silly 80s series make me ridiculously happy? Yes!

Was this entire post just leading up to this? Yeah... sorry...

I like to think that the link is intentional. I've heard that Rise makes reference to other iterations of TMNT, as they all do. I would just personally love it if someone on the team wanted to draw parallels between these two series on purpose!

Anyway.

I just noticed that and really needed to get it off my chest! Thank you to everyone who stuck with this longer-than-intended post right to the end! 💙💜❤🧡

[mrsrileywrites]

Oh well, it seems like my brain was feeling functional today...

Here's part two of this Simon Riley x pregnant reader ask

Enjoy everyone and as always any and all sorts of interaction is highly appreciated 🫶

Side note: I'm still new here so I don't know how to add links and be like "this" and you press the word and boom there's the link, also I do all this from my phone so bare with my millennial old ass 😅

1001 words

"Explain what?" He shouts turning around and walking towards you again, your hands fly to your belly instinctively, protective. You lower your head, eyes glued to the floor, ashamed.

Simon sees your reaction, the fear on your eyes, and he steps back taking a minute to collect himself, to come to terms with this discovery, he runs his hand over his face and hair.

"I'm sorry Si, I was-" you speak softly, your tone apologetic but he cuts you off, "You are not, I didn't want this, you knew damn well I didn't want this" he shouts again and you shrink yourself wanting to crawl out of your skin and not deal with this, not right now at least, your shoulders slump like a child being scolded. "Why didn't you tell me? You had plenty of chances."

"I didn't know how" you pout looking up at him searching his eyes for reassurance that everything would be okay but he is relentless, you see the rage and something else in his eyes, something you can't quite identify. "You didn't know how? Are you fucking kidding me right now? How about, uh oh by the way you are going to be a dad?" He sighs pacing back and forth like an encaged animal.

"I was afraid" you blink away the tears that have been threatening to spill since he walked through the door, your heart is beating so fast you think you may pass out any second. And he sees you, the fear, the vulnerability, the uncertainty and it hits him like a train, you are afraid too and you've been dealing with this for the past two months on your own, he stands in front of you.

"Afraid of what? Of me?" His voice is much softer now and he moves a strand of hair behind your ear, his calloused fingers lingering on your cheek and you nod speaking softly like you always do, because you are nothing like him, you are sweet and soft around the edges "of your reaction, of loosing you, but I get it now... you don't have to do this, it's okay really... I can manage on my own".

His hands cup your face and your fingers curl around his wrists, the look on your face pulls at the strings of his heart and he knows he would never be able to leave you even if he tried, even if that meant to face his biggest fears and become a father, the father he wish he had. "You'll never lose me love, you're stuck with me... We'll do this together, yeah?"

"Mhm" you agree and bury your face on his chest letting the tears run free, Simon rubs soothing circles on your back and apologizes over and over, he said he didn't mean to yell, he wasn't mad he was just shocked and scared shitless and you apologize too.

____________________________________________

From that on Simon was really involved in your pregnancy as much as he could, he even talked to Price and he agreed to send him on not-so-dangerous and not-so-long missions, he even got to do all of his paperwork in his little office at home and go with you to all your doctors appointments, he was holding your hand when he saw the baby for the first time, black and white blob staring at him through the screen, he asked the nurse if he could have one of the ultrasound pictures to show the lads back at base and she give him a bunch, he chose his favorite and put it in his wallet, he tried, in vain, to hide his tears the first time he heard the baby's heartbeat, he didn't complained when he noticed his favorite ice cream running out a lot faster while yours remained untouched, you blamed it on the pregnancy cravings.

 

He held your hair and rubbed soothing circles on your back every morning while you hugged the toilet bowl emptying your stomach courtesy of the morning sickness and he reassured you every time you felt too overly conscious of the changes in your body, he rubbed lotion on your belly and spoke to the bump every night after you showered and got ready for bed, he cried his eyes out the first time he felt the baby kick while he laid on the couch with his head on your lap and you ran your fingers through his hair.

One night you both laid in bed, in the moon lite bedroom, you were at the 36 weeks mark and your doctor had told you the baby could be born any time now. You and Simon (Simon more than you) had put the nursery together while you boss him around. Simon laid behind you, his burly arms wrapped around you while his hand rubbed different shapes on your belly, he gasped every time the baby kicked.

"I'm scared" you mumbled so low you thought he didn't hear you. "Scared of what, love?" he spoke in a drowsy tone his mouth against your neck.

"Giving birth..." He chuckled and you smacked his hand. "You can't escape that part, baby, can you?".

"I know, I just... You are so big and the baby is big for his gestational age too... I don't know if I'll be able to do this" you sighed. "It's too late to think about that now baby" he chuckled again and you smacked his hand again.

"Simon, this is serious" you scolded him and he squeezed you a little tighter, his voice a low murmur against your neck. "I know it is, but you got this... You've come this far and you've been so brave you are going to be just fine, plus I'll be right next to you... and they'll give you something for the pain, I'll make sure you are as comfortable as possible, yeah?".

"Yeah" you agreed sinking further into his warm embrace and you knew no matter how scary it could be Simon would always be there being your biggest supporter and a great father.

@zlunia

[hibiscesque]

Gave my word to OOMF that I would get over my fear of y'all sophistiqué fellas on Tumblr and actually post an analysis here, so here goes nothing.

Mori and Dazai: a noncomprehensive opinion-based analysis of the most talked about parts of their relationship by me, Lily, that has been fleshed out and crossposted from Twt.

[Feat. attached screenshots of some of the interesting contributions others made when I posted this there over the summer at the end, and the links to their Twts so you can check their accounts out if you're on the hellbird app too!]

I figure the best place to start is the place where discussion about Mori and Dazai's relationship often starts and ends: abuse.

It is an unequivocal fact that Mori was in a position of power over Dazai, as his elder, superior in rank, and the doctor who saved him. I wholly agree with this piece of the fandom collective consciousness. I do have a bit of a different interpretation, however, regarding how he used this power.

I do not think Mori lorded it over Dazai to take advantage of him sexually or hurt him physically, and from my reading of it, canon seems to support that. In fact, it was in Mori’s best interest in his relationship with Dazai to do what all the best manipulative abusers do: pretend that this power does not exist at all.

He presented himself to Dazai as Dazai’s equal, a partner in a dastardly scheme to take down the Port Mafia boss. He knew Dazai would say yes—as a disillusioned boy who seemed to have no attachment to his old life, what other answer would he give?—but took deep care to give him the illusion of choice.

Maintaining the illusion that they were equals was very important, as Dazai was older and of an entirely different breed than Yosano. His old strategy wouldn’t fly here. I think this actually displays the versatility of Mori’s manipulative skills, how he was so easily able to adjust between them. Even the narrative of Fifteen, whether this was deliberate or accidental, seems to intimate to the reader that there was not the power imbalance between them that you would expect. It specifically corrects you from seeing Dazai as Mori’s son or charge, seeming to want you—or want you to see Dazai—come to the conclusion that they are, though I use this word very differently than we do when it comes to SKK, partners in crime. But that is absolutely not true. He was a fourteen-year-old playing adult games.

Mori probably figured out pretty fast that Dazai was used to being the best manipulator in the room, and that he was usually incredibly adept at hiding this from the adults around him. It was to his advantage to utilize this fact and let Dazai think that he was the one in control between them, ergo the easy agreement to giving him a painless death later on when he had absolutely no intention of ever granting him that.

That's not to entirely de-dimensionalize their relationship. I do think in some ways, a lot of ways even, Dazai had Mori wrapped around his finger. For starters, we see several examples of him being petulant or defiant to Mori that evidently amuse Mori rather than anger him. Furthermore, I think I can go so far as to say that in the early days, Mori admired Dazai, in a way. Dazai effortlessly lived an existence lacking traditionally defined humanity and empathy, something that hadn't come quite so innately to Mori. He himself hadn't had to cultivate that cold, heartless calculation until the Great War, at which point he got himself so far into this "character", for a lack of a better word, that he played to protect his country, that he'd begun to grossly overcompensate. Become the exact monster he believed he needed to be, though I don't think he'd put it in those exact terms.

But to Dazai, all of this seems to come easy as breathing in the light novels. It must have been fascinating, in a way, to meet what he spent so long striving to become in the form of a fluffy-haired, teenage attitude-filled, lower secondary schooler.

Even the fond admirenvy, however, would eventually become a tool. There's a clear logical advantage to Mori to letting himself feel regarding Dazai to the degree he did where he allowed himself be jerked around a little bit. It would make Dazai more secure in the thought that he was the one in control between them, exactly the belief paradigm Mori needed him to keep existing within to be able to maneuver him to the utmost degree of exactitude when it mattered.

Something else I do disagree with the fandom about, which you've probably been able to ascertain by now, is that Mori, so to speak, birthed the darkness in Dazai. Made him that way. Forced him to be that way. Anything like that.

This darkness, in my opinion, already existed when they met.

I think Mori sensing that, as aforementioned, is part of the reason he chose to ensnare Dazai in his web in the first place. There's a whole other discussion that could be had about the sheer coincidence of acquiring the one child in the world with an ability that could turn off the Deus ex machina we know as Corruption that existed within the second child he would acquire not a year later—and yet another about why the mafia higher ups saw Dazai as a credible witness to the old boss' death—but while no, Dazai would probably have not gone on to become a mass murderer and expert torturer were he not brought into this life by Mori, he was very likely not an angel otherwise.

To me, the adroitness with which he manipulated Chuuya into joining the mafia makes this clear. That is not something he’d picked up within the last year he’d known Mori. Seamlessly using manipulation of that caliber is a skill that usually comes from being exposed to other manipulators from a very young age and/or a natural predisposition toward it. Usually "and". It's still a skill that can be cultivated, whether on purpose or not, but it's not something that's easy to just pick up and learn intuitively unless you're pre-tuned to it for one of those reasons. I also bring up that infamous scene in Fifteen where Dazai empties a magazine of bullets into a dead body. I see many things in that instance, but primarily a hurting and psychologically disturbed child.

While watching the death of the old boss could easily have been a traumatic experience for him, I think we can extrapolate from Dazai’s other aforementioned behavior that one, he’d been exposed to the darker side of society far longer ago than when he’d met Mori, and two, he was at that point, whether by natural means or not, rather stunted in the empathy department. I’m not saying that Dazai is incapable of feeling it—simply that he does not feel it to the degree the average person does. I know a lot of Dazai fans will disagree with me on that, but I do believe this very strongly.

This all comes back to the circle of bonding him to Mori; Mori always presented himself as his equal in that way, after all. While I’m sure Dazai had met more than one unempathetic adult before him, this could easily have been the first time he'd met one who was like him in the sense that their intelligence allowed them the manipulative skills to use this "lack of compassion” to their advantage.

I think Dazai was quickly and, to steal his own word, indelibly fascinated by Mori. We can see that he’s adopted many of Mori’s mannerisms—the most obvious example being using a dramatic shtick to lower people’s guards and make himself appear more harmless. For Dazai that's his ridiculous suicide attempts that will never work and appeals to women for double suicide, and for Mori that's playing the doting, haggard father to Elise. I think they both enjoyed these roles more than they let on, especially Mori, but they do serve a purpose. Correct me if I’m wrong on this, but to this point I even believe I remember a Japanese-speaking fan saying that Dazai copied some of Mori’s speech mannerisms in the untranslated text of Fifteen that were hard to emulate in English.

I think Mori, in his own way, for the reasons I shared earlier on, is equally as fascinated by Dazai as Dazai is by him. Mori is such an enigma, however, that I’m left with a question when analyzing a certain part of canon that I think the answer to depends on how charitably you want to interpret Mori: why didn’t he just kill Dazai instead of ousting him from the mafia?

I think there are two possible answers to this. One, he knew Dazai would be useful to him in the future. After all, he wouldn't be able to use his Deus ex machina more than once without him. And of course, there's Natsume's Greater Plan, the lengths to which Natsume has gone to set dominos in place for I think we're only just starting to grasp.

But then there's also two, that he, against what anyone might expect, cared about Dazai enough that he didn’t want him dead. Perhaps it was even both. I will leave you with that to ponder. Thanks for reading! 💝

& Now... Bonus!

Thoughts from Alli omgdqzai on Twitter:

[CW: CSA, though not in the form of sexual contact between Dazai and Mori]

Thoughts from Pysta pysta_myn on Twitter: