#and honestly of me because ive never raised a puppy before

[beansnpeets]

Yesterday while we were gone we left Sprocket uncrated. I put the xpen across where the litter boxes are and left an opening just for the cats so Sprocket wouldn't snack while we were gone and I put the baby gate across the entrance. I made sure there was nothing in her reach that she might do anything with that would be an issue and I had Jon's mum take the dogs out in the middle of the day so nobody would have an accident before we got home.

She did SO good. Everything was totally fine and she was so so happy to see us when we got back. She's never been alone all day like that before and she was SO so so good. I'm so proud of her. Not to toot my own horn, but I think I've been doing a good job raising this dog. She missed me so much that she's been glued to me all morning. Unfortunately I have to go to work so I won't get to hang out with her, but we will do something fun after work. Oscar is used to this, we've done this lots before. This was just the first time since we got Sprocket. Every time I've gone somewhere for the day I've always brought her along, but it was nice to not have to worry about leaving her in the vehicle to go into stores and stuff this time. I was worried about how she was at home, but very relieved to find everything was fine when we did get home.

[babithyn]

august 27th, 2023

tw~ ed/mental health/rant

Its been a while… im currently 31weeks pregnant. this pregnancy has been extremely difficult.

Ive had a lot of stuff happen within the past four months. I moved in with my boyfriend. I got put on medical leave from work. My cars engine flooded. My mental health plummeted. My ED has reared its ugly head. Its just been a lot.

I feel like a burden to my boyfriend. He pays all the bills while all i do is sit at home. I have no source of income so i cant contribute to anything. I’ve been relying on my mom to pay my phone bill. Relying on my boyfriend to keep a roof over our head. all i can contribute is food stamps which i only got approved for last month.

In my 2nd trimester i started binge eating… im not sure if it was the change in my body or just my binge ED hitting me full force. but now that im in my 3rd trimester im barely eating one meal a day. Again i cant tell if its the pregnancy or my ED.

I fo know that my body dysmorphia is extremely bad at the moment. I cant even look at myself i. the mirror without crying. Logically I know im just pregnant but a voice in the back of my head is screaming at me that im fat and that its not just me being pregnant…

Im so sad all the time. And i honestly just want a hug and some comforting words. but i know i cant get that. My bf gets mad when i cry or even just say im sad. So at night when he’s sleeping i just silently cry next to him. or while he’s at work or the gym i sob uncontrollably.

We have some really bad fights sometimes that just destroys me. He says things like “i dont even really know you” or “you barely know me”… … … weve been together for almost 9months now. I’ve been so open with him from the beginning i even recently opened up to him about my ED when we first started dating. I try to tell him small stuff about me and it feels like he doesnt pay attention. He doesmt open up very much to me but i know a decent amount about him. of course we will never know everything about the people we love. there is always something to learn about the people we love and care about. shit im still learning things about my own mom and she’s my mom.

It sometimes feels like he doesnt want to be with me… like the only thing keeping him with me is our unborn daughter… which hurts because i love him so much… And recently he hasnt wanted to be intimate with me… which if course not only hurts but it makes me doubt myself. and i already feel ugly and fat but now… it just feels so much more real.

I crave affection from him so much that last night i had a dream that we went on a cute date. we got matching shoes and we held hands with each other and he called me pretty. but of course even my dream decided to attack me because right before i woke up a random person in my dream walked up to me telling me i was a horrible girlfriend. so my cute dream turned into a nightmare real quick. as per usual…

i miss my dogs… i know random and stupid to most people. but my dogs are my everything. i love them more than anything. Ive raised them since they were puppies. ive had dogs my entire life. there wasnt one second of my life where i didnt have at least one dog in my house.

And dogs lives are so short that being away from my babies for so long is painful.

October 24th, 2023

I never got to finish this post. I don’t remember why but I opened tumblr and it was the first thing i saw.

To continue what I was saying. I miss my dogs. And thats doubled even more now. Since writing this I’ve lost two of my dogs.

My 16 year old golden retriever passed due to old age. She wouldve been 17 this month. Ive had her since she was a puppy so even though it was expected it doesn’t hurt any less.

I also lost my 7 year old chihuahua. She got attacked by two other large dogs and the only way we wouldve been able to save her was with a $7k experimental surgery. I broke down and begged my followers on instagram, snapchat, and tiktok for help. But was only able to raise $50 between gofundme and cashapp. The next morning she passed and i was distraught.

Not only did i lose another one of my best friends but i still owed $3k in vet bills. I didnt take it well and a month later i still sob thinking about her. Shit i cant even type this without crying.

It’s been hard.

My due date is this saturday and im not okay if I’m being honest. I feel like im going to have really bad postpartum depression.

I feel lost. It’s hard to comprehend that im going to be a mom. That im going to have a little human dependent on me for the rest of my life.

Do that get me wrong, I love her. I love her so much already… but am i going to be a good mom? Am I going to raise her well? Are me and my boyfriend going to be good parents. Are we going to be able seal with the stress together?

There are so many variables that have me scared, stressed, and anxious.

On another note my body dismorphia makes me want to die. I have gained almost 70lbs this pregnancy. at my highest i weighed 248lbs. Ive lost 8lbs which i dont know how to feel about. So my current weight is 240lbs without fasting.

I hate it. And it hurts because I can see it. I physically can see the fat right bellow my gigantic baby bump. I can see the outrageous amount of stretch marks. I can feel the fat and stretch marks and not just when i tough them with my hands. The stretch marks sting, they feel like cuts on my stomach. It almost feels like fresh SH cuts.

This whole year has been traumatizing. This whole pregnancy has been traumatizing. Ive always wanted more than one kid but at this point i dont think my mental health could handle another pregnancy.

I have a feeling Im going to relapse with my ED after I give birth. I already have the urges to do so. Which isn’t good because I recently became hypoglycemic again.

To those who font know what that is. It’s pretty much early onset diabetes. Which was caused by my ED.

Ive struggled with binge eating, an0r3x14, and bul1m14 since the early age of 9. Going back and forth between the three on since.

That’s caused my blood sugar to be unable to regulate like a normal person. If I dont eat for longer than 5hours my blood sugar drops into the 40’s (normal is between 70 and 100) and when I eat the highest its gotten was 150 and thats after eating practically straight sugar.

So in simple terms my body produces to much insulin which can make me insulin resistant in the future.

i know this was long and all over the place. Especially since its months of stress thats piled up. I could type more but im honestly exhausted and will probably just make a separate post at a later date.

As always thank you for coming to my ted talk. Be safe take care of yourselves much love 🖤🖤🖤

[plxviofiles]

you can stay.

#wanda maximoff x fem!reader, fluff <3 (requests are open!)

WARNINGS: none, not proofread because it's 4 am and I'm extremely sleep deprived 😭

→ aggressively google searches 'how to deny girlfriend when she throws pebbles on your window and gives you puppy eyes'

! word count: 1.3K

A/N: straying away from requests to write a short comfort wanda fic !! <33 i honestly dont remember what ive been doing i just remember watching encanto an unhealthy amount of times and crying over it 😕 i referenced a song (reference me is back 😇) and its one that i love v much so i hope you enjoy and also kinda referencing that one tasm gwenter scene !! ALSO IDK WHAT IS PLINK PLINK OKAY IDK HOW IT SOUNDS LIKE DONT ATTACK ME 🙄

plink.

plink.

plink.

your eye twiches.

you pull your blanket closer.

plink!

plink!

plink!

you refuse to get up, the day having been exhausting enough.

you clutch your book tighter in one hand, your other hand that circled the mug following in suit.

PLINK.

PLINK.

PLINK.

"I don't get paid enough to live," you mutter tiredly, going to check the window.

"WHAT'S YOUR PROBLEM AND WHO-? wands? wands, is that you?"

the brunette smiles shyly, waving up to you excitedly, "hello, my love!"

your cheeks heat up immediately upon hearing the term of endearment, but then you put your hands on your hips, "wanda maximoff, what are you doing here? it's dark out!"

she shrugs cutely, kicking at the grass on the ground.

that's when you notice how adorable this entire situation was.

your girlfriend, who had the strictest parents and nosiest brother, was standing in your front yard, hair a lttle disheveled, a pillow held in one arm, and her hands fiddling, gazing up with your favorite puppy eyes in existence.

god, you were whipped. your arms drop to your side, and you sigh fondly.

she mutters something incoherent and you raise a brow, "sorry, angel, could you repeat that?"

her blush is visible even in the dark, "I can't sleep."

"why not?" you decide to tease her, "you have no problem sleeping during our movie nights."

she groans in protest, "love, it's not my fault I have tiring days and you love documentaries!"

you scoff playfully, placing a hand on the window sill and shaking your head at your girlfriend, "very nice, maximoff."

"I like your documentaries! they're interesting. I just-"

"I know, angel, I was kidding," you reassure her kindly, perking up slightly when you notice her shoulders relax, "why not just ring the doorbell?"

"your parents wouldn't let me in this late, you know that," she whispers, using her powers to lift herself up to your window sill.

"did i say you could come in?" you jive further, and wanda pouts.

POUTS. you hated her pouts.

she knows you're defeated when you gesture for her to come, turning around and walking back into your room.

"you can stay, but you have to be quiet, because my parents are always up late-"

like you jinxed it, you hear a knock.

"hide!" you whisper shouted to your girlfriend who franctically nods before deciding to hide in your closet that was barely big enough for your clothes and her.

"yes mom?" you ask as you open the door, a suspicious smile creeping on your face, "what is it?"

"just wanted to ask if your hot chocolate tasted good?" your mother queried good-naturedly, and you grin, "of course! whatever you make tastes good."

"good, good, well it's getting late," she leans in for a hug and you hug her tightly, "you should go to sleep."

"of course," you kiss her on the cheek, "good night, mom."

you close the door and that's when wanda bursts out of your closet, littering your room floor with clothes.

you stand there and a laugh escapes, wanda's shocked face making the whole situation funnier.

wanda laughs along and you start picking your clothes up, "you really bring the party with you, don't you?"

"good that you're starting to notice," wanda chirps, standing up with your help and brushing herself off.

"it was that ONE time like years ago," you argue gamesomely, "let it go!"

"never."

and another knock.

your eyes widen and wanda doesn't need you to talk to dive behind your curtains.

"yes?" you attempt to keep your facade up to your sister, who looks at you confusedly, "you seem....skittish."

"oh, it's nothing," you wave dismissively, "just had too much coffee, that's all!"

she still appears to be onto you but either didn't care or was too tired to question more (you don't even drink coffee but nevermind), "can i borrow your yellow sweater?"

wanda cringes behind the curtains when she remembers she put it on just now when you were cleaning up, and like you knew what she was thinking, you cringe as well.

you pretend to think, looking in your closet, "give me a sec!"

your sister taps her foot, looking around your room, although not entering, "hey, your curtain-"

"UM, I CAN'T FIND IT!" you suddenly exclaim, "pretty sure I threw it into the washing machine yesterday!"

"but-"

"no buts!" you interrupt, shooing her away, "I'll give it to you when I find it okay? Enjoy your night out!"

when she opens her mouth again, you shut the door for the second time.

wanda ungracefully untangles herself from the curtains and gives you a clumsy thumbs up, which you respond to with a weak smile.

"you okay?" wanda asks, approaching you and cupping your face gently with her hands.

"yeah, i just," you start, when you hear ANOTHER KNOCK.

AGAIN.

steam pours out of your ears as wanda whispers soothing words before crawling underneath your bed, causing you to giggle at the ridiculous actions she took just to make sure you don't get in trouble.

"hello, how was your day?" it was your father.

horrible. tiring. you just want a good evening with your girlfriend. why are we still here. just to suffer?

"good," you laugh nervously, sounding strained, "very good. amazing. wonderful."

"I can tell when you're being sarcastic, you know," your father worridly places a hand on your shoulder, "you could come to me whenever?"

"I know, whenever I feel bad," you recite the same thing he's told you since you were little, "I know dad, and it's the same for you okay? how was your day?"

"better after this little chat and one of your mother's cups of hot chocolate," he chuckles joyfully, squeezing your shoulder, "well, I'll-"

"yes, I'll see you later, make sure you sleep, I'll sleep now too! good night!"

you slam the door after he walks away and you let yourself slide down until you're sitting on the floor.

wanda crawls out of her hiding place with a concerned gaze, but you lift up an awkward thumbs up, mirroring hers a while ago, to show that you were okay.

"I love my family so much, it's just," you sigh heavily, "everyone knows I had a long day and do not enter is written on the doorway! why can't everyone just go away!"

wanda nods in understanding, but doubt is clearly in her eyes before you oppose it, "except you. you can stay."

the happiness in her eyes at those five words makes you sigh again, but this time in relief. she chose to be here and you chose to let her in. she could make you feel better about anything.

you dramatically lift yourself up from the floor and flop on your bed, and wanda plops in the bed next to you, positioning her head to lay on your chest.

she hums beautifully while you weave your hand through her hair.

it was one of your favorite actions to do, it just reminded you that she was there. present with you.

"sorry you had such a long day, love," wanda whispers, fingers dancing along your torso and then your neck, pulling you closer.

"it's not your fault," you mumble, burying your face into her hair that always somehow smelt like cinnamon, "i'm just glad you're here."

"so am I," she places kisses up your neck and eventually her soft lips land on yours.

"how was your day?" you inquire, remembering to check on her too.

she looks into your eyes and your vision is flooded with your favorite shade of green.

"way less tiring than yours," she giggles when you frown, knowing that you wanted to jump and tell her that it still matters to you, "I got a new book."

"that's wonderful, what's it about?" your eagerness never fails to make wanda's heart warm.

and there, tucked in bed with the love of your life, with her breath fanning your face, and your hand set on the small of her back, you thank the universe that wanda maximoff was yours.

[pai-sia]

“My name is Gabriel, Im 25 and ive been homeless for a year and a half. I was raised by my aunt who sold her house and left the state. Around the same time I lost my job and my first car was t-boned. I got a jeep which is my dream car because of insurance, I lived out of my jeep which stopped working a month afterwards with my dog for most of that time until I received my tax return and was finally able to get it moving again.

After getting it fixed a friend let me stay with them. My dad and my dog died around the same time, I never knew my dad much and then I had to realize I never would. I had gotten my dog at the beginning of the year before and raised him from a puppy, he was an american akita named Xten and i miss him more than anything. He was with me the whole time i was homeless and kept me going alot of the time, i feel like i let him down honestly.

Then I got kicked out of my friends house because of a argument, and later that night put in the hospital with a concussion and broken hand when someone came and punched me from behind at a shopping center. I lost my memory of the last few days and most of the possessions I had managed to hold on to when they left all of my things at a donation box in the rain.

My girlfriend, her cousin, and my bestfriend managed to get a few of my things they knew were mine. My girlfriend and her cousin are both amazing people and I wouldn't have made it this long without them, especially the woman who stood beside me even when i was down.

My bestfriend got me a job at a grocery store and I eventually managed to buy a car from his parents, the car broke down on me at an intersection and was eventually towed and I got fired from my job. The previously mentioned cousin of my girlfriend purchased me a tent, and I had been living in it and keeping my things there since I started at the job my friend had gotten me.”

[am-i-ourple]

Cats just love him, no one knows why or how, but when he was a kid he'd find stray cats behind the school and just sit there and pet them but he could never bring them home because William refused to let animals in the house (even though Elizabeth tried really hard to get a puppy)

You'd been noticing Michael glance outside, he'll even disappear for a few minutes everyday only to walk in through the front door. You'd let it slide for about a week, before curiosity got the better of you, and you finally cracked. So, after noticing his disappearance once more, you walked to the front door and leaned against the wall crossing your arms waiting for him to creep back in the home "quietly".

Honestly You'd stood there all of 2 minutes before he slowly opened the door and stepped in, only to pause when he made eye contact.

"What' cha up to Mikey?"

"I...uh....I was smoking?"

You raised your eyebrow, and leaned forward, "Try again, I don't smell smoke."

Slow you watched his shoulders deflate a bit, before he looked into your eyes, his own somewhat sad now.

"There's....well theres this cat that follows me home each morning, and she was starting to get skinny, so ive...I've been feeding her."

Immediately, perking up at the mention of a cat, you grab Michael's face, and say, "Why didn't you tell me? Come one, let's go get her and bring her into the house! She must be so cold outside all alone!"

And before he can even stop you, you're already rushing out the front door, brainstorming different names aloud for your newly claimed pet.

[solomonish]

say my name like it’s a bad word (solomon x reader)

sometimes, when Solomon hears others speak his name, it feels more like they're spewing curses than addressing him.

ao3 link: here!

I. Anger

He could see the peak rising above the horizon much sooner than he could the day before. That pleased him - though he wouldn’t let those graciously lending him their powers know.

As he walked into his unfinished temple, he had to dodge a few of his flying demons who passive-aggressively swooped too close to his head. He enjoyed the noise the solid ground made beneath his feet, opposed to the soft earth outside the entrance. With a purposely blank expression, Solomon strode over to a corner of the temple, where one of his more outspoken pacts stomped down clay.

Asmodeus looked up at him as he approached, his brows furrowing. If he wasn’t already out of breath from the strenuous work Solomon had ordered him to do, he probably would have groaned loud enough to halt the progress around him. His hair, stuck to his brow with sweat, still managed to look perfect and keep its style. Keeping his voice level, Solomon said as much.

“Oh, thank you!” Asmodeus chirped, wiping away his frustration for a moment to flash a faux grin. “Honestly, for someone like me, it’s hardly a feat to maintain such exquisite looks, but I certainly appreciate you noticing!”

“Someone like you…..” Solomon responded, trailing off as he held his chin in thought. Asmodeus, bound by the command of his pact, kept stomping the clay beneath him, but his upper half seemed completely at ease. There was a sudden fluidity to his movements, one that always warned Solomon to up his guard and covertly cast some safeguards against Asmo’s charms.

“Yes, someone like me! The most bewitching creature in all the realms - but surely, you don’t need a reminder of that,” Adding a purr beneath his words, Asmo leaned forward. Something glinted in his eyes as they slowly bled into a fuchsia hue, and Solomon felt a faint tug at the spell he just cast. “You know, I wouldn’t mind reminding you in other ways. Surely, this has been a test to show how much energy I truly have?”

Solomon perked up, and he could see Asmodeus rejoice, certain his plan had worked. “Really? After all of this, you still have energy?”

“Of course!”

With a hum, Solomon let his hand fall from his chin and smiled sweetly at the demon before him. The pact mark on his hip tingled lightly, a side-effect of the new method of command he was testing out. “Very well. I’ll double your quota and, naturally, expect you to exceed my expectations in a day’s time.”

“What-” His eyes widened and jaw dropped for just a second, wondering both how his plan had been foiled so quickly and how Solomon managed to command him with zero authority in his voice. Against his will, Asmodeus’ stomping quickened, forcing him to lose his theatrics and focus his entire being on his task. “Solomon!” He shouted indignantly, the only word he could get out before his pact holder turned and walked away.

II. Formality

“Solomon,” the voice said, a stiffness around its edges. Stopping in his tracks, Solomon had to squint in the shadows to even see the sorcerer he was meeting. In his opinion, hiding in the shadows beside the comically large bookshelf was a bit overkill for their meeting. While technically a forbidden one, Solomon was confident that, if caught, he would be able to leave unscathed.

"Irin," Solomon returned, hoping his own casual tone would ease away that stifling formality in his acquaintence's voice. "You said you needed to meet with me?"

Tentatively, like a distrusting stray cat, Irin stepped out from the shadows while peering down both ends of the hallway. They were ever the cautious soul, though it stung to see that hesitancy aimed at himself. "Keep your voice down. We don't want to get caught."

Solomon raised an eyebrow. "Why could we not have met elsewhere, then?"

"I only just found it. I wanted to make sure I could hand it to you in person before I found out why you were banished."

The glare Irin leveled him in had his heart sinking. Perhaps hoping that word of his fallout had yet to spread - or that he would not be held in contempt for accusations he could never address or recover from - was too big an ambition, even for Solomon. But the shadowed leaders of the Sorcerer's Society were prone to gossip. That was,after all, part of what demanded such secrecy in this rendezvous.

Glancing down, Solomon saw Irin handing his wand over to him, his lips grimly pressed together in a thin line. Ah, so that's why I couldn’t find it. The drama of the past few weeks had been enough to scramble his mind, and in the chaos of his banishment, Solomon must have dropped his wand as he was forced out. That, or it was stolen and he was never meant to have it back in his possession. Ah, well. Why bother with the semantics of rules he was no longer bound by?

Without a word, Solomon took the wand and tucked it in his waistband,, hidden behind his cloak. To see such solemnity in the exchange of such a ridiculous thing would have been a humorous sight if the atmosphere were lighter. But the air around them hung heavy, heavy enough to have Solomon itching just beneath his skin and craving an exit. As much as the thought hurt when it struck, he realized that there was no call for niceties or a proper goodbye. The icy glare he was leveled in wouldn’t be remedied with an amicable goodbye.

As Solomon made his way down the hall, a second pair of footsteps that were far too light to be Irin’s approached from behind him. He didn’t bother to cast a glance behind him to see who it might be - whoever it was didn’t want to see him, and Solomon was quickly losing interest in the affairs of the society in their entirety.

III. Distrust

“But is that really a good idea?”

“Do you not agree?”

Two voices floated down the corridor as Solomon approached, one like a softly tinkling bell and the other deep and soothing. It seemed that his two companions had started the conversation without him. Either that, or he was hearing part of a conversation that was never meant for his ears.

“It isn’t that, it’s more…” The lighter voice trailed off for a moment. “Are we sure it’s best to throw a newborn lamb in with lions who know far more than they do? Even ignoring how they’d be your only true subject of this exchange program, wouldn’t they have more luck bonding with someone as familiar with this world as they were?”

“Two humans who have no idea what is going on wandering the Devildom? That isn’t the best idea I’ve heard,” Solomon interrupted as he rounded the corner. He had no interest in eavesdropping on a conversation for information he was owed, anyway. “Sorry I’m late.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Diavolo reassured, uncrossing his legs and leaning back in his chair. He gestured towards the assortment of small pastries and tea on the table between the three of them while Simeon picked up his own cup, if only to have something to focus on.

“Nice to see you, Solomon,” Simeon answered cheerily, masterfully hiding the suspicion Solomon knew should be biting at the greeting. Biting the inside of his cheek, Solomon held back any questions he had of Simeon trying to butt him out of the Diavolo’s project. Instead, he nodded in a silent ’nice to see you, too,’ and made himself comfortable on the unoccupied chair in the room.

“Now,” Diavolo started, ignoring the chill hovering in the air, “How are we feeling about this exchange program?”

IV. Annoyance

An indignant shriek filled the dorm as a menacing cloud of violet smoke rose from the pot. Luke watched it in horror, jumping back as the sparks started to fly out of the pan.

“What did you just do?” He yelled. Solomon merely watched in awe, impressed at the show he had created and completely shutting out Luke’s exasperated yapping. Perhaps such marvelling should have waited, because he couldn’t hear the panicked shouts as some of the sparks fell on the ends of his cloak. It took the brunt of Luke’s bodyweight as he pushed Solomon out of the line of literal fire and ran to get the fire extinguisher to snap him out of his daze.

Glancing at the bottom of his cloak, Solomon sighed and snapped his fingers, putting out the fire immediately. Begrudgingly removing the cloak of his shoulders, he lifted the hem to eye level and mourned his loss silently. Moments later, Luke came barreling in the room, letting loose with the fire extinguisher without even looking to see if there was still a flame.

When he was convinced that the fire was out, Luke held Solomon in his best attempt at an upset glare. He ended up looking more like a slightly upset puppy, but Solomon knew when to hold his tongue around the young angel. “Solomon, I told you to stay out of the kitchen! What part of that translated to you as ‘come add ingredients to the pot’?”

Before Solomon could make things worse in his attempt at a defense, Simeon walked in the room, looking like the most graceful being in the world. With his current company, though, it wasn’t such an accomplishment. “Now, now. I’m sure Solomon just wanted to help, right Luke?”

Luke didn’t look convinced, but the practiced smile on Simeon was a clear indication that he should agree. “Yeah, I guess.”

Gently guiding Luke out of the room, Simeon gave that same smile to Solomon. “And he will help by cleaning up this mess while we grab some more ingredients for dinner, right?”

“Yes.”

“Great!”

With that, Simeon ushered Luke out of the room. When they stopped to grab their jackets, Solomon heard Luke whisper, “I thought you were watching him, Simeon.”

Unlike his roommates, Solomon had the wisdom to wait until he heard the door shut to sigh in displeasure.

V. Contempt

At this point, Solomon wasn’t sure whether his repeated showdowns with Lucifer were proving his tenacity and value or deepening the hatred that seemed to run between them.

Still, it was unusual for Lucifer to summon for Solomon in the middle of class, only to stare at him in silence as Solomon fought the instinctive urge to shift where he stood before him. The student council room was empty, save for the spread out papers on the table in front of Lucifer and the two of them. It wasn’t often that Solomon felt unnerved, and certainly not by Lucifer after he heard your tales of how he behaved at home, but that was the closest word he could think of to describe how he felt.

“I needn’t remind you of the perils the Devildom has to offer?” Lucifer asked, his voice cold as ice. “I am not pleased with the state in which you brought MC back the other day.”

What, in once piece? Solomon had to bite his tongue. Lucifer really thought he could lecture his way out of everything, didn’t he? “I apologize,” He lied. Then, more truthfully, “If I could have brought them back with no injuries, I would have.”

Lucifer narrowed his eyes, weaving his fingers together in thought and resting his elbows on the table. “If you are to be so irresponsible, perhaps I should put a stop to these outings?”

The indignation burning in Solomon’s gut made him grimace; he hated feeling like a child, but Lucifer had a way of belittling everyone that way. His protests all sounded like an upset teen arguing with their parents - They were only scrapes and bruises! It was an accident! You can’t dictate everything MC does with their time. You can’t dictate anything I do with mine! - but he held them all back. “I will make sure MC does not get hurt next time they are in my care.”

Lucifer’s eyes flashed red, and Solomon suddenly understood why the horror movies of his realm used that as an indication of evil. “Of course you will. But a little incentive wouldn’t hurt.”

With that, Lucifer stood from his seat, towering over Solomon by at least a foot. He wasn’t in his demon form - RAD rules to accommodate the exchange students - but he didn’t need to. Solomon could feel the threatening aura around him, promises of the harm that would come to him if he went against Lucifer’s wishes surrounding the two like the wind in a firestorm.

This was where Lucifer always lost Solomon’s interest. He wasn’t able to be threatened by promises Lucifer was always too busy to fulfill.

“You may not have much of a life to gamble, Solomon,” Lucifer hissed, and the only indication Solomon gave of his flinch was one quick blink, “but MC is not yours to toy with. Remember that.”

Unwilling to back down in their staring match, Solomon kept his mouth wired shut for a few moments. Lucifer, living up to his sin, also refused to back down, and Solomon realized it was a losing battle.

“I have to get back to class,” Solomon lied again, and they both knew it. But there were no more words to share between them, so Solomon left it at that.

VI. Affection

Hearing his name come from your mouth like that gave him the same sensation of watching someone put a piece of a cactus in their mouth.

You hadn’t even entered his room yet. The moment you entered the dorm, you called out his name, stretching out the last syllable in a sing-song voice. He could hear the rustle of plastic bags, the ingredients for his latest cooking lesson tucked inside. When you knocked on the doorframe to his room, he didn’t answer, and you peeked inside to see him staring directly at you with a dumbstruck expression on his face.

“Are...you okay?” You asked, not truly concerned. It was enough to quickly snap him back to reality, and he tried to play off his surprise with a smile. You stopped him from speaking before he even had a chance to tell you he was fine. “Don’t give me any crap. What was that look for?”

How could he express what he was thinking without sounding entirely unbecoming? “It’s...just weird to hear my name said like that.”

“What, to the tune of the Devildom’s next hit of the summer?” Your cheeky grin did nothing to hide your arrogance. Solomon only hummed, standing from his desk and stretching his arms above his head.

Realizing he wasn’t going to explain himself any further, you led him to the kitchen and explained the dinner you had planned. He listened halfheartedly, rummaging through the bag to eye the ingredients suspiciously. It all looked so...predictable. Boring. He was already connecting ideas to add his own pizzazz to the dish.

“Are you going to yell at me when I mess it up?” He asked in an attempt at jest. Something in his tone was off, though, and it sounded much more like a genuine question. Uncomfortably clearing his throat, Solomon avoided your confused gaze. “I mean-”

“Have Simeon and Luke been on your case about your cooking again?” You asked. He could practically hear your exasperation at their antics, and almost jumped to their defense. They were angels. Confronting people directly about their shortcomings wasn’t their strong suit. “I promise, I will not yell at you. Seriously. I will, however, whip you into shape with this spoon.”

To prove your point, you picked up a wooden spoon and hit him on the arm. Your own strength surprised you, however, and the sharp snap that sounded through the room made you freeze in your spot. “Oh my goodness, I am so sorry-”

With a grin that could only be described as shit-eating, Solomon burst into theatrics, bemoaning his injured arm and worrying over how dark the bruise would definitely be. In between your apologizes and insistences that you didn’t hit him that hard, you tried to place a gentle kiss where you hit him. He made sure to pull away, swearing he could never trust you again after you’ve hurt him so severely.

He decided then that hearing his name interrupted with your laugh was the best way to hear it.

[shepard-ram]

Non-Liquid Red [Dsmp!Reader & Mumbo]

(P!fluff a tiny bit of hurt, Request: DUDE. I TOTALLY NEED A MUMBO ONE. IVE BEEN BINGING HIS HERMIT CRAFT SERIES AND JUST A READER FROM THE DREAM SMP FINDING CONTENT IN THE INTRICACIES OF REDSTONE AND HAVING FUN JUST BUILDING FARMS WITH HIM BECAUSE IT KEEPS THEIR HANDS AND THEIR MIND BUSY AND MUMBO AND THEM JUST FARMING TOGETHER AND ENJOYING ONE ANOTHERS COMPANY PLEASE.)

(I'm sorry for how long it takes me to get to requests, I'm far from a fast writer. And I'm realizing most of these are 95% dialog)

----------

"I think that should be it!" You gave an exhausted grin. He had said that a few times already. Still when Mumbo jestered the signal to you, you let out a silent wish as you hit the lever for the God knows what time.

He ran back to your side and crossed his fingers watching the newest edition to his industrial district kick to life. You were both covered in the glowing dust that powered all the machines around you. Between all the edits you both had made over the day it felt like nothing could possibly go wrong. And when nothing seemed to break you both burst in victorious cheers.

"FINALLY!" You plopped on the ground right there watching the farms newly produced resources travel up to the storage system. Mumbo sat next to you.

"Seems your excited to be done with me." He light-heartedly said.

"Don't say that like you don't act like a puppy when these things finally work" you teased back. He raised his hands in a silent defense "I get it though, it's satisfying to see it's actually done and working." He nodded in agreement at that. "I get why you guys like doing this so much."

"Did you do alot of redstone back on your server?" He started up another conversation.

"No not all" you answered, "I like to think I'm better than most of them, but the bar wasn't high at all- trust me." You added. "We do have a couple of really smart guys though," you were thinking out loud at this point. "Like Sam, you'd all like him I think."

"Well if you do then I'm sure we would." He sincerely responded. "What is he like?" You had told Mumbo how much you enjoyed being able to talk about the better parts of your old home, and ever since he always tried to get you to tell more stories.

"He's probably the best engineer we have, tall creeper hybrid. Really sweet dude, he taught me most of what I know. I was never as good as him though." You fondly recalled.

"He sounds like Doc." You both smiled at the connection.

"Yeah Doc always did remind of him. Minus all the cyborg bits" you laughed. "Sam could actually make his own if he needed them. Honestly I wouldn't be shocked if they turned out to be long lost brothers or something!" you entertained they thought before shaking your head.

"They both are pretty talented hm?" He hummed even with his lack of knowledge about your friend.

"Oh he is, he made the one big redstone build we have." You sang his praises.

"Really! What's that." Almost immediately feeling some regret as your face dropped.

"Pandora's vault" you added in a much more monotone voice. "A massive inescapable prison complex, made In a way so magic doesn't work. When I left Dream just locked up and Sam was the warden. Terrible place to be, but I can't say I feel bad for the bastard." You scoffed.

You saw that he was speechless at your vent, quickly rushing to lighten the subject. "But this is a great change of pace!" You blurted out. "It's nice to have something to keep myself busy." You added in a more sincere tone. "I like being able to make something that doesn't hurt anyone, it only makes- only helps. You know?"

"Yeah, thats a good way to put it." Grasping for something to say after your monolog. "Sorry if it gets frustrating how long it can for me to get one of these working."

"No no I don't mind at all. Prepare for the worst, hope for the best. That's my mindset after all" You gave a small smile with the sincere response. "I really like it here." You truthfully confessed.

"Well, that's nice to know. I'm glad you're here." And after some more talking you decided to go you're separate ways for the night.

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Twelve

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: this took so long bc ive been reading chain of iron and in general agonizing over things i cant control instead of being productive 🥴 that being said, absolutely none of the events in this chapter were planned in my outline, but here we are with something new!

***

December brings more snow and bone chilling weather, to the point where Cassian has to drag Nesta out of bed, either physically or by phone call, to get her to therapy appointments on time. 

She’s in the waiting room one freezing morning when, in her utter boredom, she musters up the nerve to turn to the girl sitting next to her. “What are you in here for?”

The girl blinks her large blue eyes, taking notice of Nesta for the first time. Nesta uses the opportunity to take in her freckle-painted face, a little wan but beautiful. Reddish brown hair hangs around her face and shoulders, creating a thick curtain from the rest of the world, and Nesta’s curiosity piques like she’s just found a shiny new toy.

It probably isn’t right to compare people to toys, but then the girl says, “This isn’t prison, you know.” Her voice is deep, almost sultry— completely at odds from her huddled-in posture and sickened expression. “I didn’t commit a crime to have to be here.”

Is she insulted by Nesta’s question, or is she poking a joke? Nesta decides to play it safe by murmuring, “Sorry, never mind.”

She starts to turn away when the girl says, “We’re trying a new type of trauma therapy today. I had to get here half an hour early because I couldn’t swallow my nerves.”

Nesta might lack many social skills, but she isn’t stupid enough to ask what kind of trauma the girl is being treated for. Instead, she nods casually as if she understands the struggle. “I’ve been coming here for weeks now and I’ve barely discussed shit. That’s mostly on me, but you know…” She actually doesn’t know where she’s going with her train of thought. “It sounds brave to do whatever you're doing,” she states finally. “I don’t think I’ll be able to open up that much about myself, ever.” 

The girl gives Nesta a weird look that she immediately recognizes. Nesta uses it every time she doesn’t know how to respond to someone who takes her by surprise.

The door to Lana’s office clicks open, and the woman herself pokes her head out with a plain smile. “Ready, Nesta?”

Nesta bites down on her frown. She has a feeling today won’t be as easy as her past sessions.

She’s about to leave without another glance at the girl beside her when that low voice speaks up. “I’m Gwyn.”

Nesta looks back at her as she gets up from her chair, and says the first reply that comes to mind: “Good to know.”

***

Nesta is contemplative hours after she gets back from her therapy session, bundled up in her bed with a coloring book. The repetitive motion of filling in the mandala drawing lets her mind wander, picking up and dropping different thoughts like she’s inspecting stones. 

She keeps her wrist light as she colors in with red. She finally said Tomas’s name in therapy today, though the action left a slimy feeling in Nesta’s stomach that lingers even now. She also spoke about her sisters, which somehow ended up leading to a discussion of her uterus. 

“How have you been dealing with the endometriosis news?”

Nesta shrugged. “I’m getting treated, and my last period was more bearable than usual—”

“I mean mentally, how are you doing? With how your condition could affect your future?”

Nesta narrowed her eyes. “Affect me how?”

“Have you never considered the impact it could have on your ability to bear children?”

“Not everything in life is about bearing children, you know.”

“We’re humans. It’s definitely something to consider.”

“Not for me. I’ve never wanted kids.” A mistruth at best. “I don’t care what endo does or doesn’t do to me on those grounds.”

In a way, Nesta told herself, the health risks were actually for the best. If she ever did, by some stupid loss of sanity, try to have children, then her body would act as a safety net from her decisions.

Lana only said, “You’ll never know how much you care or don’t care until you talk out your feelings.”

“Then I guess we’ll never know.”

Nesta lets the memory of that conversation drop like a stone on a shore. That’s not something she has to face for a good long while. No, right now she has to face her past. 

Her sisters, and her ex, and even her father— 

I wonder if I came off too strong with Gwyn today. 

Her hand stops drawing, and she switches out her red marker for an orange one. This thought she doesn’t mind inspecting for a little longer: she and Gwyn ended up leaving their sessions at the same time, which meant they were forced into stilted conversation on the way down to the parking lot. 

Not forced, Nesta self-corrects. She willingly initiated a conversation, and it didn’t go terribly. She wonders if making friends in therapy waiting rooms is a real thing.

Her phone vibrates beside her, breaking her hours-long mental bubble. Blinking dazedly, she answers the phone call.

“How are you?” is the first thing Cassian says to her. He makes sure to ask her that at least twice a day, like a gauging of her temperature. It makes Nesta wonder what she’s ever done in her life to call for such… attention to her well-being. 

“I’m good,” she answers honestly. “My head’s a little loud right now, but I don’t mind it.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“No, I’d rather hear you talk.” She slumps back against her pillows, coloring book forgotten. “What’s up?”

“Ah...” Cassian sounds hesitant for the first time since their relationship started. “It’s just that I haven’t gotten my Christmas decorations up yet, and I was going to ask if you wanted to help.”

Nesta takes a moment to absorb his words. “It’s December fifth,” she says.

“Yeah?”

“You just seem like somebody who does their decorations the day after Thanksgiving.”

“Well, this year is a little different, with you moving out and being busy with school…” He pauses. “I was waiting to do it with you.”

When she doesn’t reply, Cassian adds, “I don’t even know if you care about Christmas. I know you and your family sort of ignored holidays. It’s fine if you don’t want to—”

“I’ll be over right now,” Nesta blurts. 

Half an hour later, Cassian swings open his door with a smug grin on his face; a vast difference from the stammering hesitance he displayed over the phone earlier. Nesta’s own lips want to pull up into a smile just at the sight of him, but she holds back and narrows her eyes instead. “What’s got you so worked up?” she questions as she steps into the warmth of the cabin and out of the freezing cold.

“The way you ran over here as soon as I asked.” He looks her up and down, still amused. “You didn’t even bother to change, did you?”

It’s true: she’s in the same sweatpants and long sleeved tee she wore around home, and her socked feet are shoved into slippers. 

“Get that smirk off your face.” Nesta flicks his nose before tossing her coat off. “If this is a competition about who’s got a bigger puppy-crush for whom, you already won when you delayed putting up your Christmas decorations for me.”

“Fair enough,” he grins. The words send an unexpected pang through Nesta, because it’s partly true, isn’t it? He cares more openly for her than she does for him. 

She looks away in guilt, not knowing how to fix the imbalance. Her eyes land on the living room coffee table, where their half-finished jigsaw puzzle sits. It’s been stored under the couch for the past few weeks, forgotten by Nesta and Cassian alike as they moved on with their lives, but now it’s sitting out again.

“Have you been working on the puzzle without me?” She raises an inquisitive brow, about to feel— hurt.

“Never,” Cassian promises, saving her from that irrational hurt. “I just brought it out because I figured we should get to finishing it one day.”

She pads over to the table, picking up a puzzle piece and turning it over in her hand. “I don’t know if you remember, but we had a terrible time working on this,” she scoffs lightly.

“Oh, I remember,” he says, coming up behind her and stealing the piece from her grasp. “I think it’s safe to say those evenings were the worst fights we’ll ever have together.”

Nesta leans back against Cassian’s chest and hums. “It made us a stronger couple, don’t you think?” She turns her head up and back to meet Cassian’s eyes, finding that he’s already looking down at her.

Hypnotized, she leans into his warmth. She only manages to land the smallest kiss against his lips when his hand squeezes her ass cheek. “You’re here for a job, remember?” He taps her butt before pulling away, gesturing to the Christmas tree in the corner of the living area with his chin. It stands bare. “You do tinsel, I’ll do lights.”

Tinsel is harder to work with than Nesta remembers. She only manages to get half the tree done before plopping onto the Persian rug, exhausted and covered in silvery material. She doesn’t mind laying there while Cassian continues working; it’s her revenge for when he napped on her bed while she moved in.

“You know the stair railings still need to be wreathed, Archeron.”

Nesta declines to respond, tilting her head on the carpet for a better view of her boyfriend’s ass instead. “All this decorating,” she starts. “Is it just for you?”

Cassian turns to her, surprised. “Well…”

She pushes up onto her elbows, catching her mistake. “Are we doing Christmas together? Or are your friends coming over?” She hasn’t bothered to celebrate Christmas in years now, and she doesn’t care much what Cassian’s plans are either way.

“I was hoping for both?” He sounds hesitant. “Christmas Eve is all the way over in Velaris, but I was thinking we could go together, open some presents, and come back and spend Christmas here.”

Nesta purses her lips. She doesn’t actually hate that plan. Both Feyre and Elain have been pestering her with the annual texts asking her to visit for Christmas, and for once, she feels like responding to them. The invitation is more of a formality than an actual request at this point; she doubts her sisters want her there after years of rejections, but… what’s the harm?

“Is that a yes?” Cassian asks at her unreadable face.

“Yes,” she states unflinchingly. She refuses to overthink the possible consequences of this choice and chooses to focus on the broad grin overtaking Cassian’s face. “Really?” he says.

“But there has to be rules.” Nesta sits up fully now. “No one can know we’re together, no matter how much you trust or love them.”

“We already agreed to that, baby.”

Yes, but Nesta knows the secret weighs on him heavier than he shows— even if he agrees with her that it's for the best. “It’ll be different when we’re together in the same room as everyone else,” she says. Cassian wears his beating heart on his sleeve, and she doesn’t think he’s ever had to hide it before.

“You’ll also be different,” she adds. “It’s a huge change of pace.”

Cassian drops the remaining strand of lights and smiles confusedly down at her. “What do you mean, I’ll be different?” He sits across from her, before the blazing fire. 

“You know how you get around your friends.” Nesta shrugs without a thought. “Like your personality readjusts to mirror the people around you. I used to find it a mix of sad and adorable, like a neglected puppy desperate for love, but now I— okay, I still feel the same way.” She waves a hand in a dismissive gesture.

By the look on Cassian’s face, he does not find her words so easily dismissed. 

Coldness curdles in the pit of Nesta’s stomach, the realization that she’s said something wrong. She can’t fix it until she knows where she fucked up, though.

“Is that what you think of me?” Cassian finally says lowly. His usually expressive mouth is drawn tight and narrow. 

“Um… What would you rather I think of you?”

His eyes widen in disbelief. “Seriously, Nesta?”

Nesta’s back stiffens, refusing to cower. “I only described what I’ve observed in the past.”

“And what you observed was a desperate puppy?” His voice is cold in a way she’s never heard before.

Okay, she’s starting to see how that might be offensive. She forges onward, “Tell me what you think about yourself in the presence of your family, then.” It’s a private victory that she says family instead of clown circus. But she’s not trying to turn this into a fight.

Cassian is silent, but his stare continues to rage at her.

“Tell me,” Nesta repeats.

His hands curl into fists on the rug. “I think I’m empathetic, easy to talk to, and easier to be around. Is it a problem if I’m likable?” Unlike you are the unsaid words.

Nesta inspects the space between them like it’s a chessboard. “And what part of yourself are you giving up to be so likable, Cassian?” she says quietly.

“Nothing.”

Nesta disagrees, if only because she’s been watching him out of the corner of her eye for years. “I think you base your personality off of those you love, and you lose a little bit of your true self every time you put others’ needs before your own.” 

She shuts her mouth, not having expected such honesty to come out of it. Cassian is taken aback, too, she can tell.

“And I guess it’s natural that you’d see all of that as a bad thing, considering your history of being closed off and self-serving to a fault,” he fires back with the flatness Nesta utilizes so often.

One for one. Fair enough. “We’re both right then,” Nesta says. “You work for your best friend because you have no ambition beyond serving your family, and I have no such family because I can’t bring myself to care about those things. Are we even now?”

Cassian furrows his brows, those defensive walls melting away as he realizes she’s completely serious. “What? No, Nes—” He shakes his head. “Okay, so maybe you’re right about me. Maybe I agree with you a little bit, but… If we see flaws in each other, then we should be working to overcome them instead of weaponizing them.”

Now Nesta’s the one shaking her head, quickly lifting a hand to stop him. “Relax there, sweetheart. I have no expectations from you or myself to go on some self-improvement journey now that we’re together. Talking about my feelings with a professional every week is hard enough.” Yes, agreeing to go to Feyre’s Christmas party is improvement. Slow, barely there improvement, but enough to wear her out for the rest of the month. For Nesta to fully let people into her life, to treat them as lovingly as she treats Cassian— that’s a long way away. She can’t envision it, doesn’t even know if she wants it.

Cassian must understand some of what she’s thinking, because he nods and backs off. He gets back up and returns to stringing lights, tossing a handful of tinsel at Nesta as if to say Get back to work. 

She stands and obeys, thinking their not-argument is officially over when Cassian says, “You’re wrong about one thing.”

She looks up from where she threads tinsel through fir leaves. He doesn’t take his eyes off his work as he says, “You do have a family. And deep, deep down, you care about them as much as I care about mine.”

***

Nesta catches Emerie’s eye as the dark-haired beauty walks into the pub. Raising a hand and waving, she gestures Emerie over to the booth she’s sitting in. 

“Look what I found,” Nesta says with a hint of pride, pointing to the redhead sitting beside her. “A third girl for girl’s night!”

“I was kidnapped,” Gwyn speaks up. “Jumped on the way to my car.” She’s out of her usual hoodie and in a tight-fitting blouse, looking stunning even while seeming out of place in the dim bar.

“She came here consensually,” Nesta retorts. “Emerie, this is Gwyn. We met at therapy.”

Gwyn offers Emerie an awkward smile.

Emerie slides into the booth across from them with raised brows. She looks between Nesta and the new girl and back again. “You invited her here? All by yourself?” she asks.

Nesta nods firmly.

Emerie breaks into a wide grin and reaches over the table to grab Nesta’s hand. “I’m so proud of you!” If Emerie were anyone else, she’d be squealing in excitement, but Emerie does not squeal.

Nesta waves off her friend’s praise, though a part of her wants to beam at it, too.

Gwyn glances between the two of them with slight amusement. “I mean, it’s not that impressive,” she says. “She came on a bit too strong, probably a five out of ten on the asking-someone-out scale.”

“‘A bit too strong’ is all you’re gonna get with Nesta,” Emerie says, lifting her hand to order drinks. “She’s all-or-nothing, and most people would pray she doesn’t give them her nothing.”

Nesta doesn’t know if that’s a compliment, but she supposes there are worse things that could be said about her.

“So, Gwyn, what do you do?” Emerie leans forward. “All our friends are law students and it’s starting to get boring.”

Gwyn goes off about her librarian job as Nesta orders their drinks, and Emerie rests her chin in her hand and listens eagerly. Christmas music plays softly in the background and snow flurries gently outside. Nesta thinks she can’t be doing that bad in life, if she’s managed to carve out this little slice of happiness for herself.

***

a/n: i promise shit actually happens next chapter! we're getting christmas with nessian and the ic in the same room for the first time

taglist: @ladywitchling @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson

[thcweasley]

5 Galleons

FRED WEASLEY X READER

GIF NOT MINE 

“Told ya” Fred chuckled whilst jumping a bit, fixing your position on his back. You and your friend-but-you-actually-want-more Fred Weasley decided to go to a muggle amusement park this summer. He never really rode a roller coaster before, he was pretty sure that roller coaster wont be scary for a wizard like him. 

‘Y/N you know im a beater in quidditch right? A handsome one too’ he once said to you when you guys were talking about roller coasters. ‘yes.. and? also what does handsome-ness gotta do with it?’ you raised an eyebrow, earning a smirk from him. ‘so you agree…. But yeah that means im one tough man, wizarding world is a much more harsher place than a muggle world you know? A childish ride like that wont scare me. I bet you 5 galleons I wont even make a little yelp’ he answered cockly. Spoiler alert, he did scream.

“you told me what?” you asked puzzled, tilting your face so you could see his. The bright sun hit your face. It’s a nice day outside, even nicer it was just the two of you. Usually his siblings would tail him like lost puppies, especially his twin brother George. But thankfully, no one was tagging along today. Well, more like no one was invited.

He was smiling, “told you to not wear heels. we’re going to a muggle amusement park not a shopping centre” he said chuckling a bit.

He was giving you a piggyback ride. Because he was so sure that the wedges shoes you were wearing was hurting your feet. Which is true.

“They aren’t  heels.. They’re wedges stupid” you rolled your eyes.

“same thing” he shrugged nonchalantly. “why are you wearing them anyway?”

You press your face onto the crook of his neck feeling your cheeks getting warm from embarrassment. “umm… if i tell you you will laugh at me" you mumbled against his broad back.

“i won’t.. promise”

you sighed at the thought of how ridiculous the reason is  “okay… I.. I just don’t want to look so small compare to you” with that, you heard him muffling his laugh.

“stop laughing!” you smacked his back. making him laughed even more “you git! you told me youre not going to laugh!” you couldn’t help but laugh as well.

“sorry love” he tried to stop laughing.. “but that was just- that was just a stupidest thing ive ever heard” you can hear him smiling

you smacked his back again, messing his surprisingly soft fiery red hair in with your hands. “Youre the one who kept making fun of me! You don’t get to laugh” You cant help but laugh too, swinging your legs around him.

“hey stop!” he jumped again fixing your position. “you’re not weightless okay! you’re heavy!” he laughed jokingly “thank god i like you. if i don’t i’d just drop you right here right now!”

you knew that he was just joking but it didn’t stop you. you were about to hit him again. but then something crossed your mind. he likes you? Fred likes you?

“you what?” you moved closer to him, pressing his cheek with yours.

“what?” he chuckled.

“you said you like me” you held in your smile, noticing he didnt realise what he was saying before.

“oh” his body stiffed in realisation. he dropped his gaze to the ground. “oh that..” he sighed, you can feel his cheek getting warmer against yours. He was considering to just laugh it off, telling her that hes just talking crap, but that wouldn’t be the truth. You move your head to look at his face.

He fixed your position uncomfortably, refusing to look back at you.

“i-” he tried to talk but you cut him off. A big smile starting to creep on your face realising how shy he had become. Fred, who usually always got something to say, hes lost with words.

“Freddie likes me?” you cooed. Enjoying this way too much  “aww how cute” The colour of his cheeks starting to look like his hair now,  still dropping his gaze to the ground.

You dropped you head to his shoulder “oh come on. spill it out big boy” you giggled.

“i do.. i like you y/n” he breathed.

you smiled.“hey look at me” he still refused to look at you. “Fred” you whined. he turned his head to face you. “i like you too” You smiled planting soft kiss on his lips, you can feel his lips forming into a smile. “But you still owe me 5 galleons”

THIS IS MY 2ND FF HOPE YALL ENJOYED IT~ Im new to this tumblr so message me if yall wanna be friends/mutual or smth. my feed is very empty :’(

follow me / send request / talk to me! im lonely

honestly tho how do i get mutuals???:(((

[lostonehero]

It's frightening dealing with an unhappy pokemon

Guzma is showing Cyrus around Alola and they finally make it to the island where he has his own town full of skull grunts. Cyrus didn't mind the fact that he basically ran a home for wayward teens and kids, but he didn't know if he could handle all that noise.

Cyrus is pulled out of his thoughts when Guzma freezes and he pulls Cyrus back seeing the lone pokemon in front of them.

"Guzma what do you think you're doing? It's just a pokemon." Cyrus huffs with that annoyed look on his face. "Aren't we just suppose to head to the police station to see Nanu like you said a hundred times on the way here."

Guzma steps back. "There are a few things that terrify me Cyrus and Mimikyu is high on that list."

Cyrus rolls his eyes. "A mimikyu? Guzma is this just a superstition you have like the rest of your locals?" He approaches the mimikyu pulling out of Guzma grasp. "It seems to be a different color then you described."

The shiny mimikyu in question was hissing and threatening to pull off its cloak.

"Cyrus get back." Guzma shouted

"You can't-" Cyrus passes out from seeing a glimpse under the mimikyu cloak

Guzma rushes to his side and kisses him which makes Cyrus shoot up in shock.

Cyrus now red in the face. "What the... Guzma what was that for?"

"Its a good thing you don't remember what you saw." Guzma sighs in relief pulling the smaller man away from the annoyed mimikyu. "They are normally docile and never this angry well that's what Accerola tells me."

Cyrus goes to pull away from Guzma when a large flygon with spiderweb cracks along its whole body interrupts as it grabs the mimikyu in its mouth and wags its tail like a happy rock ruff.

The two spot its trainer knuckles white quickly going back under the oversized sleeves of her hoodie that matches the mimikyu. The hood covers her face but they can easily tell she was not having a good time.

"No more fast rides Bing." She says under her breath.

Guzma scowling "is that your pokemon you shouldn't let it loose they are dangerous and can cause death."

The woman shakes her head and takes a breath "I know I know I'm so sorry we got separated it was an accident, she just gets very aggressive when she can't find me I'm sorry "

Guzma stops amd sighs "sorry didn't mean to get so angry I get it my guys do the same thing when I'm not there with them... "

"Oh I'm Hero by the way and OH I heard of you from the weird town that always rains right." She smiles letting her mimikyu climb onto her shoulder. "You like bug types right."

Cyrus raises a brow at the mood shift.

Guzma nods skeptically as she calls out a pokemon named Kai then immeditally goes full Bug maniac. "A FROSTMOTH IVE NEVER SEEN ONE BEFORE." He immeditally goes over to study her and gets blasted with snow

"Kai that's mean what did I tell you about interacting with strangers." Hero sighs "sorry she is a bit fiesty"

"She's beautiful is it ok to touch her?" Guzma looks like a kid who was told that they can have any candy they want.

"Of course she isn't fragile, just watch out for her antenna alright " she smiles watching Guzma take notes

Cyrus frowns "your flygon... Bing was it. Why is he scarred?"

Hero sighs as Bing approaches them amd licks Cyrus in the face making the man scowl and wipe off his face in annoyance. "Uh he's a rescue he was forced in a small cage to die on a breeding site when he was a baby trapinch I rescued him.... and uh he's just like a big growlithe honestly a sweetheart."

"Rescue?" Cyrus pauses in deep thought. "You did a good thing."

Hero nods "he's my second ever pokemon couldn't just leave him because he was scarred and from a terrible situation."

"How did you rehabilitate him?" Cyrus asks now curious thinking of his own pokemon.

"Oh well it wasn't easy the damage to his exoskeleton was extensive and took a year to finally be strong enough to battle. And the behavior training was difficult bit it helped having flicker as a bridge to show that I was ok then my siblings and strangers were kind to him and now he is a dragon who thinks he is a puppy but one of my strongest mons"

"I see so you use positive Reinforcement, did he get unhealthy attached?"

"Uh yeah when he first evolved into a vibrava but after a lot of training and discipline which took effort he is a happy boy and you can only tell he was ever abused by his scars." Hero gives Bing some scritches and he automatically growls like a purr. "He is a bit dumb though but he makes up for it with his love and enthusiasm."

Cyrus nods. "I see I shall have to try that." He smiles softly watching Guzma play around with Kai. "That pokemon, you've been to Galar."

Hero nods. "I found her as a snom impaled by a stick took her to the pokemon center to get help she is a brat and a fighter but I don't regret saving her.... but seriously she will pick a fight with everything I'm surprised Guzma hasn't uh yielded from all the snow she is spitting at him."

Cyrus smiles softly. "He is quite stubborn when it comes to bugs."

"I can tell." Hero smiles returning Bing to his ball.

Guzma giggling "hey why don't you come to Nanu's with us " a thinly excuse to be nice to spend more time with the bug.

Hero chuckles. "Sure uh just be careful she can and will bite you."

@idonthaveacleverquip for the contest also CT inspired

Aka cave troll inspired

[whatcouldgowrong-ohthat]

Doll (Bucky x Tall!Reader One-shot)

This is one of my submissions for Cloudy’s 200 follower challenge! So proud of you, girly!!

Pairing: Bucky x Tall!Reader

Dialogue Prompt: High as a Kite (highlighted in bold)

Summary: While Y/N was out on a mission, Bucky accidentally got himself hurt. So what happens when she finds her best friend/crush not nearly as quiet as he usually is?

Warnings: Guys, there’s no angst. This is all fluff.

“Who’s going to tell her?”

“I’m not! It was an accident!”

“Yes, let’s piss off the Amazonian.”

“She’s not an Amazon. She’s just tall.”

“Please, can we focus?”

“I own the building. That means I can call immunity.”

“Honestly, I’d rather be recording this for future blackmail.”

“Well, someone has to tell her.”

“Tell me what?”

Three bodies spun around, shielding the glass window they had been peering into moments before. Y/N watched them curiously. Scott, Bruce, Sam, and Tony were hiding something. She stepped closer to them, brow furrowing when Scott and Bruce instinctively moved in front of the door.

“Okay, what’s going on?” She looked down at Sam, hoping to get some sort of clarity from Bucky’s partner in crime.

“I still think I should be recording.”

“Recording what?” Y/N stepped closer. She didn’t want to admit it, but panic was starting to stir in her chest. She’d been gone on a mission with Steve and had only gotten back a little while ago. Ever since, she’d been looking for Bucky. He’d promised a movie marathon with her and she was coming to collect.

But in three hours – she hadn’t seen or heard from him.  At first, she thought she had done something wrong, but now? Seeing four of her five friends hiding outside a med-room? With no clue were her best friend was? She knew it wasn’t her fault. They were hiding something.

She walked up to Bruce, her heeled boots clicking on the floor until she was practically chest to chest with him. Looking down at him, she crossed her arms and immediately began tapping her foot.

Tony cleared his throat, not exactly in the mood to see a hulked-out Banner fighting the Winter Soldier’s crush. He still had people working on repairs from when Bucky ate the last of Hulk’s M&Ms. “Relax, Y/N. The intimidation tactics aren’t going to work.”

She groaned, dropping her hands and looking at the “genius” that felt the need to call her out in this particular moment. “You guys won’t let me know where he is!”

“He’s in there!”

Everyone looked back to Scott. He was still shielding the window from Y/N’s sight, but now he was hiding his face behind his hands. He peeked between his fingers, looking similar to a child in this moment. If she wasn’t so worried about what they were hiding, she’d probably laugh.

Her gaze shifted to the door. She gestured for Scott to step aside. He didn’t even argue. Looking through the glass, she bit her lip. The panic that had been there moments before was gone now, replaced with relief. “What happened?”

“Barnes ate Hulk’s M&M’s. I’m still trying to get the community kitchen fixed up because of it,” Tony explained.

Y/N looked at Bruce, raising an eyebrow. “You hulked out because of M&M’s?”

“I didn’t! The…” Bruce huffed. “The big guy did.”

Y/N turned back to the window and snorted, biting back a laugh.

“She’s finding this amusing. Should we be worried?” Scott looked at Bruce and Tony. Sam simply shrugged. Their usefulness for this had just run out.

“I’m going to check on him. Can you four go find something else to look at?” She didn’t bother sparing them a glance, slipping inside the room and closing the door behind her.

Instead of leaving like Y/N had asked, they crowded in front of the glass. Each of them was desperate to get a good look. “You better hope this works, Stark,” Scott muttered, unable to contain his smile.

“All my creations work, thank you very much. Especially when Banner’s helping me.”

“I’d rather not agree with that statement after Ultron.”

Tony glanced at Bruce and scoffed. “Traitor.”

“Quiet,” Sam ordered, swatting Tony upside the head. “I’m trying to hear!”

 -----

Y/N walked towards the bed Bucky was currently laying on. He was hooked to an IV, but she wasn’t sure what medicine they were pumping in his system. Surely it wasn’t too bad, right? If it were, Steve would be here, frantic and worried about what had happened to his best friend. But that wasn’t the case. So, she ran her fingers through his hair, allowing that flutter of crazed nerves to erupt in her chest and stomach. God, she couldn’t help the feelings this man gave her.

She noticed the massive bruise in his hairline. It was swollen. Like he’d been thrown into something a few times. “Hulk really did a number on you, huh?” Her voice was soft, gentle because she didn’t want to wake him up. But this was Bucky after all. Anything could wake him up. He blinked once, twice, before finally moving his head. He groaned, moving to sit up, but Y/N was there to make the movement easier. “Hey, sleepy head.”

“What happened?”

“Apparently someone decided to take Hulk’s peanut butter M&M’s?”

A sheepish grin appeared on Bucky’s face as he ran a hand through his hair. “Oops?”

“That’s all you have to say?” Y/N laughed and shook her head. “Really?”

That sheepish grin of his was shifting. His bright eye watching her with something she didn’t quite understand. But his pupils were blown. The awkwardness of being found out faded away as he started giggling.

Bucky fucking Barnes was giggling.

Bucky laughing was already a rare sight indeed. Almost impossible to see unless you were as close with him as Steve or Y/N was. But giggling? She was sure not even Steve had seen that before.

“Oh my god, what did they give you?”

She laughed as she took a step back, but before she could get too far, Bucky grabbed her hand. He pulled her close, catching her before she could fall. A hand was wrapped around her waist as he watched her intently. “I like holding you like this,” he told her, looking up at her and tilting his head. “I like looking up at you.” Of all the people on the team, Bucky was the only one who ever encouraged her height. In fact, if there were moments where he could look up at her, he did. He enjoyed how tall she was. Her curves and height were a rare sight and it was how she was nicknamed the “Amazon” of the team.

“Buck,” she murmured, laughing and leaning away from him. “You’re high as a kite, aren’t you?”

Bucky pouted at her as she ran her hands through his hair. “I’m being honest. Why don’t you believe me?”

“Because they had to have given you something.”

“No,” he drawled, dragging out the word as if it had twenty extra letters. “I’m a super soldier, ‘member?” He grinned like the cat that ate the canary. “Drugs don’t work on me.”

“No known drugs work on you, Buck. But who knows what cocktail Banner and Stark gave you?”

Another giggle from Bucky and Y/N couldn’t stop herself from smiling. He was absolutely adorable. Drugged up or not. Silence fell as she continued playing with his hair, earning soft hums from the loveable goofball in her arms. He was so calm. There was no pain or tension anywhere in his face. He was actually…relaxed.

“Why don’t you like me, Y/N?”

She frowned. He’d closed his eyes, tilting his head back as she kept playing with his hair. Had he even realized he’d asked her? “Of course, I like you, Bucky.”

Bucky groaned, pouting once again. He leaned forward as his forehead found her shoulder. “No, you don’t. Not like I like you.”

“Not like you like me?” Y/N felt like her heart was ready to burst out of her chest. Did he really admit to liking her? She glanced at the IV. What the hell had Tony and Bruce given him? “What do you mean, Bucky?”

“I like holding you,” he murmured, nuzzling her neck. His hands wrapped around her waist were now tracing up her back. “I like watching movies and cuddling…”

“I like those things too.”

He whined again, clearly not believing her. She felt like she was talking to a puppy. “Then why do you go on dates? I hate that.” He pouted, his nose nuzzling into her neck. “I hate seeing guys take you out when they don’t deserve you. I want to date you. I want to take you out. I want to kiss you. I want to…I want to…”

“Want to what?”

“I want to show you how important you are, Y/N.”

If she hadn’t been blushing before, she certainly was now. She had never expected to hear these words out of Bucky and here he was admitting that he felt everything she did. And he wouldn’t even remember it, would he?

“Oh, Buck,” she murmured, hands moving from his hair to his back. “I wish you knew how important you are to me.”

There was a pause as if Bucky wasn’t sure he heard her right. But once a few moments passed, a muffled, “I am?” was asked.

Y/N chuckled and looked down at him. Tilting his head up, she ran her fingers along his cheek. It was gentle, ghost-like. “You are. But I got to tell you that when you aren’t drugged up.” He grinned again. It was sleepy. The poor boy probably needed more rest than they realized. “Get some rest, hm?”

“Stay.” He blinked, slowly. “Please?”

Y/N smiled as she helped him lay back down. He kept a hand securely attached to hers, clearly wanting to keep her at his side. “Buck –“

“Please,” he murmured.

She sighed. “Alright. I’ll stay.”

He let go of her hand but kept his droopy gaze on her. Bucky was determined to make sure she wasn’t going anywhere. Shrugging off her jacket, she bent down and unzipped her boots. Her gaze shifted to the door to see her four friends giving her wide grins and several thumbs up. “Oh, leave, would you?” she snapped, throwing a boot at the door. They all jumped and ducked away, running off as she shook her head. Those idiots.

Taking off her other boot, she climbed into the bed. It was far too small with his massive frame and her tall, curvy build, but they made do. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her towards him and burying his face in her hair and neck. She lightly played with his hair, the other hand wrapped around him and tracing up and down his spine. It was soothing. Intimate.

“Go to sleep, Bucky.”

“You too, Doll.”

Y/N pressed her lips against his hair, hiding her smile at the nickname. He’d never called her that before. It was always her name or some nickname from it, but never ‘doll’. Until now. She closed her eyes, letting herself fall asleep in his arms.

------------------

(BONUS)

Bucky woke to the dull remains of a headache and an impossible warmth around him. He didn’t want to open his eyes. That would mean pulling away from the warmth. So instead, he pulled the warmth closer. His arms tightened around it, clinging to it.

Then he heard a soft moan. The exhale of someone’s sigh. And everything came back.

The fight with Hulk…

Bruce and Tony getting him to the med-bay…

Bruce’s countless apologies…

Tony wanting to “take advantage” of the moment with some new medicine they had been working on with Cho…

And Y/N.

He remembered her visiting. He remembered – He remembered everything. Opening his eyes, he realized he was curled into Y/N. His head was resting on her chest, listening to her heart. His arms were wrapped around her, her hands in his hair. Tilting his head up ever so slightly, he smiled when he saw that he was, in fact, still in Y/N’s arms.

He couldn’t wipe the grin off his face as he memorized her peaceful features. She liked him. She liked him as much as he liked her. And as excited about it as he was, he wouldn’t dare wake her when she looked like this. Instead, he pressed the smallest kiss to her lips. It could hardly even count as one, he was so scared to wake her. Nuzzling her neck, he closed his eyes once again and simply enjoyed holding her. The giddiness in his chest made it impossible for him to fall back asleep. But he could enjoy this, enjoy holding her. And that was absolutely what he would do.

“I can’t wait to show you how much you mean to me, Doll.”

-----

Tag List:

@crushedbyhyperbole​

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

Empires on the Horizon IV

Jason is a CEO: Part IV

Here’s my masterlist for the next part and my other stuff 

new beginnings

look fragile

like glass

but when grabbed

sparkle

like diamonds

-badpoetry

“Good morning Mr Grace,” Grover Underwood smiled from his usual spot behind the coffee machine.

“Morning, how are you?”

“Much happier for seeing you less like someone kicked your puppy,” He gave Jason a knowing look.

“How?”

“There are some things the brain cannot hide, matters of the heart are often one of them.”

He didn’t really have any reply to that, so he gave the man an awkward smile and shrugged.

“Your usual then?”

“Yes please, and an iced coffee for Hazel.”

“Ah where is the darling this morning?”

“She’s coming into the office later, something about needing to go home first? She must have stayed at a friend’s place.”

Grover raised a dark brow, “Mhmm and where is your driver this morning? I noticed you drove yourself in today.”

“Uh I think Frank took the day off,” He frowned trying to piece the conversation he’d had with his friend in his sleep-deprived brain.

“Oh interesting,” Grover’s chocolate brown eyes twinkled in amusement, but before Jason could question him a warm cup was being shoved into his hand and he was being ushered away to wait for the iced coffee.

Collapsing into a chair, he pushed his glasses up his nose and wrapped his scarf tighter around his neck. Winter was beautiful but gods it was cold. He glanced around the café taking in the familiar forest green walls and dark wood floors. There was no sun streaming through the windows today so the gold accents on the tables were dulled and dark, like hidden bronze. He traced his fingers around the edge of his cup, losing himself in the motion, in the feeling of heat on his cold fingers, in the small gusts of wind against his cheeks as the door opened and closed, in the noise of a bustling store, in the–

“Hello Jason,”

“Luke,” He took a deep breath, “Fuck off.”

“Aw don’t be like that,” He sniggered.

“Please Luke, I don’t have the energy for this right now,” Exhaustion was a thousand-ton weight on his bones.

“That’s your problem Jason you never wanted to take things head on. It was always let’s wait for this, let’s get their opinion first, let’s just give it a couple weeks. You could have had the world begging at your fingertips if you just went for what you wanted.”

“Are you done?”

Luke’s responding laugh was malicious, “You are so-“

“Leave.” His voice was stone.

His ex-boyfriend scoffed, “Pathetic.”

Jason watched as the face he had been so in love with sneered at him, the scar running down a pale cheek twisting into malice. His soul ached for what could have been, it burned for what now was. It always surprised him how drained he felt after every interaction with Luke- like crashing down from a potent high. Being with Luke was a high, was euphoria and hope and sin. What the fuck went wrong? 

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

“Talk to me,”

“Why do you insist on answering the phone like you’re some sort of mafia boss?” His sister grumbled.

“Hello to you too Thalia,”

“I just wanted to let you know that I’ve set you up on a date tonight. Six-thirty at Sun and Songs.”

He groaned, “No. I am not in the mood.”

“Jason Grace,” She started; he could feel a rant coming on, “You cannot stop living your life because you have a wanker of an ex-boyfriend. You have been in a slump since Luke and it is affecting you in ways you’re too scared to admit.”

“It is not affecting me,” He was tired of having this fight, “I literally dated Piper for like three months.”

“Mhm and were you happy? Did you put all you could into the relationship?” She didn’t wait for his response, “No, you may have been a little happier, but you weren’t you. So you will go on this date tonight and in five years when we’re planning your wedding you better be thanking me in your speech.”

“Gods Thals,” He snorted, “We haven’t even gone on the date yet and you’re already planning a wedding?”

“Wait does that mean you agree to it?” She squealed through the phone.

“Yes loser,” He held in a laugh, “I’ll go on the date. But if it doesn’t work out you drop all of this. No more setting me up, no more interfering.”

“Yes sir. Now, how work’s going?”

“Besides the fact that Project Hestia is on hold because of this stupid contract everything is good.”

“Isn’t your fancy lawyer lady sorting it out?” She muttered.

“Reyna is a great lawyer and you know it.”

“Yea but she’s also my ex-girlfriend so I get to be a little resentful.”

He snorted at that, “Of course, and how are you?”

“I’m good. The Conservatory is still standing so I can’t be doing too many things wrong.”

“Didn’t you guys get cheetah cubs this weekend?”

“Oh Jase!” His sister cried, “They are just the absolute cutest things. Did you know cheetahs are so shy that some conservationists and wild-life biologists recommend giving them emotional support puppies?”

“So what you guys got puppies and cubs?”

“We haven’t got the puppies yet; they’re only arriving this week.”

“Well send me pictures when they’re together, maybe I’ll have them framed and hung around the office as a morale booster.”

She laughed, the sound crackly through the speaker, “Will do little bro. Listen I have to go but call me tomorrow to tell me about the date.”

“Wait!” He yelled, ignoring the weird looks from the café patrons as he walked out, “What’s her name?”

“Zoe.”

***

Jason was nervous. That was the only explanation for his shaky hands and the zoo of creatures in his stomach. He had gotten to Suns and Songs fifteen minutes early with a lavender and daisy bouquet in hand. The restaurant his sister had reserved was nothing short of incredible. Dark maroon draped over each table, and opulent candelabras sat in the center, lit only if the table was occupied. Glass and crystal chandeliers swung slowly from the high wooden beams, catching on the light and making a kaleidoscope of the room. Even the way the air smelt was decadent here. Like wood smoke and perfume, some hint of chocolate, maybe. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he wanted to bottle the scent and bathe himself in it. Trying not to be suspicious he took another deep breath in; it calmed his nerves if nothing else.

“Mr Grace?” someone put a soft hand on his shoulder, “Your guest,”

He thanked the waitress, getting up to greet his date and pull out her chair. He tried to muffle his gasp when he finally turned to her. She was stunning. Midnight skin contrasting elegantly with the pastel yellow dress she wore. Braids intertwined with glittering strands; it cast a pale silver halo around her head. Small hoop earrings glinted as she moved, and the bracelets at her wrist clinked gently when they shook hands.

“Hi, Jason Grace,” He smiled.

“Zoe Nightshade.” She flashed beautiful white teeth.

He handed her the flowers, “You look unbelievable.” He truly was in awe of her.

“Thank you,” Her smile was soft, but her voice was crisp and direct, “And these are gorgeous.”

“Would you like to order drinks?”

They scanned the menu quickly; Zoe ordered a cocktail he hadn’t heard of and he ordered the first thing he saw that didn’t have tequila in it.

“So,” He asked, and then cringed at himself internally. Starting any conversation with so was bound to make it awkward.

He cleared his throat, “How do you know Thalia?”

“We work together at the Conservatory. I moved here a couple months ago because I got transferred from the wildlife center in Germany.”

Jason didn’t know what but something about her voice made his insides melt. She said everything so undiplomatically– like if it wasn’t a fact it wasn’t worth uttering.

“Oh that’s cool. What do you do?”

“I’m a veterinarian. You?”

“Well I was a structural engineer but somehow over the years I got roped into being a town and regional planner.”

She frowned, tilting her head assessingly, “You did not finish your engineering degree?”

“Oh no I finished and got my masters in structural but then I started my company and I realised I needed other qualifications to run it the way I wanted to so I had to go back and get a degree in urban and regional planning. By the end I felt like I had been studying since the dawn of time.”

She laughed at that, and a look of surprise crossed her face, as if it was as unexpected to her as it was to him. “I know how you feel. I love animals and I’m passionate about my work but when I was done studying, I vowed never to go back. Studying for seven years after school and then trying to do it all over again feels like a one-way ticket to the end of the road.”

He mirrored her smile, “How did you get into veterinary sciences anyway?”

“My father was always busy, and my sisters were… interested in anything that could make them more beautiful, or richer. So I was pretty alone for most of my childhood. At some stage I convinced my father to get me a dog, Ladon. We were inseparable. But he got hurt when this man,“ She said it with such disgust he almost flinched. “This man hurt him. Kicked Little Ladon out the way when he was just trying to say hello. We had to take him to the vet, and I remember them being so sweet and kind to my dog and I knew I wanted to be exactly like that when I grew up.”

“Any chance you know where this man is so we can kick his ass?”

She laughed, raspy and bursting, “Don’t worry little eleven-year-old me kicked Mr Alcides as hard as I could in the shins.”

“Good,” he nodded with conviction, “He deserved more but you found your passion so there is some balance.”

She hid her grin behind a sip from her drink.

“Sir, ma’am,” Their waitress stepped to their table, “Would you like to order?”

Hours later, cheeks flushed from the liquor, laughing over Thalia’s antics and their shared need for structure, they finally decided to call the dinner to an end.

“The focaccia was to die for,” Zoe groaned, patting her stomach.

“Honestly, I may have to marry the pasta.” He sighed contentedly.

She giggled, and he knew it was a rare thing for her because her face caught that surprised look again.

“Want to grab dessert?”

“Oh gods no,” She shook her head in alarm, and then frowned as the realisation of what that meant washed through her.

“I had a really great time tonight,” He started softly.

“Do you want to walk to the park? We can stop and have gelato?” Her dark eyes were full of nervous hope.

He blinked at her, a little shocked she wanted to continue the date, “I thought you didn’t want dessert?” He teased.

“Maybe the walk will burn off some of these calories and i’ll have space for a little ice-cream.” She scunched her nose.

He knew the gelato was just an excuse, so with a grin that lit up his whole face he grabbed her hand and nodded, “Let’s do it Miss Nightshade.”

Her face glowed with relief and enthusiasm as they tucked their chairs in and exited the restaurant.

“Tell me about your family. How come you weren’t interested in the rich side of life like your sisters?”

“I guess being the youngest kind of made it all seem pointless. I had seen what happened when their vanity became malicious and I didn’t ever want to turn into something I couldn’t recognise. I went to stay with my Aunt Diana through high school. She owned a bird sanctuary. That’s where I interned in my college years.”

“Wow,” He looked down to her, awe evident in his face, “And it didn’t bother you to be so far away from your father and sisters?”

“Honestly, I’m not even sure they noticed when I left.” She shrugged, “It was a long time ago. I really only see them for family functions now.”

“And your aunt?”

“She still has the bird sanctuary, but she mostly works in the background now. My cousins, Bianca and Phoebe, run it full time.”

“Do you miss it? Were you guys close?”

“Much closer than my sisters and I. I do miss them, but I definitely can’t say I miss the sanctuary. Some of those birds were evil.”

Just then a loud squawk came from above them. She scowled at the sky, “I’m talking about you Auretta.”

He tried to hold in a laugh but Zoe stuck out her tongue childishly and they both bent over in laughter.

“Maybe we shouldn’t hurl insults while we’re out in the open.” He managed to gasp.

“Good thing the gelato shop is right there.” She grinned, grabbing his hand and sprinting towards the small, illuminated store at the end of the cobbled street. Her dress shimmered, moved like rays of light. She looked like a star.

“Come on,” She yelled, tugging at his hand harder.

‘Alright, alright,” He snapped out of his admiration and let her lead him into the shop.

“Hi, what can I get you?”

“Want to share?”

“Sure, you choose,” He waved a hand towards the abundance of flavours behind the glass.

“Please can we have one scoop of chocolate, one scoop of vanilla and,” Her brow furrowed as she scanned the tags, “And one scoop of cookie crumble.”

“Why did I think you were a sorbet girl?”

“Sorbet in the summer, anything else for the rest of the year.” She said matter of factly.

He nodded solemnly, “Yes makes sense.”

She swatted his arm, grabbing the cone from the lady with a thank you, “Gods I feel like a teenager again,”

“I know what you mean,” Her excitement was infectious.

“I have to ask,” She swallowed a chunk of cookie crumble, “What on earth were you thinking when you decided to eat a stapler?”

Jason groaned, “Why did Thalia tell you that? She swore she wouldn’t tell anyone and if asked I would say I fell off my bike or something.”

Zoe giggled, “Come on, spill.”

“Okay, first of all I was two,” He sighed, embarrassment heating his cheeks, “And it was shiny, and it made a cool clicking noise, and I wanted to know what it tasted like.”

“I can just picture a little Jason crawling onto the kitchen counter and trying to bite down on a stapler.” She teased.

“Yes well now I have this scar,” He pointed to his upper lip, rolling his eyes.

“Battle scars. Very worthy.”

He shoved at her shoulder lightly and they dissolved into laughter once more.

It was almost midnight by the time he had dropped her off at home and stepped into his apartment. He looked at his phone to see a couple work messages, and something from Hazel– things he could reply to in the morning he decided, tugging off his tie and discarding his clothes as he walked to his room. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow, his phone still glaringly bright and open on the chat with his sister.

You were right. We’re going on a second date.

-----------------------------------------------------

Grover is like some other worldy deity that spews life lessons every time they meet and i am so here for it! Anyway what y’all saying??? How are we feeling?

Tags (if you want to be added to/ taken off the tag list just let me know, all my channels of communication are open):

@lesbian-peanuts

@leydiangelo

@queen-of-demons-and-hell

@msdrpreist

@sparkythunderstorm

@nishlicious-01

@lucyisblue​

[sainadazai]

When your crush is angry all the time

Ch.4

I wanna be an intern too, you ragedy ann looking ass hoe 😠



Y/n pov

°•○●○•°•○●○•°

All goes well when you are ignorant is what my dear best friend would say to me now, as I sit in the very back of the class unfocused on how our teacher is introducing an activity I have no chance of participating in. All I knew was that when Mr. Aizawa walked up to the board and wrote names of people getting offers, I wasn't one of them. Not that I expected to be, considering I wasn't in the sports festival, let alone the school at all back then. 

However, I did notice a small inconsistency in the order of the most offers. I was pretty sure that boom boom had gotten first place in the festival, him being there is what convinced me to transfer, but his name was actually second on the board. 

Todoroki had taken the place of first as far as offers were concerned. Todoroki the nice boy who I used to meet when I snuck away from my fucking prison cell. Call me privileged for complaining about living in a mansion All my life, but I much prefer being here. With common folk. They ground me. 

I peeked up from my phone at the red and white head of hair in front of me, he didn't seem all that fazed. Although maybe it was just the lack of seeing his face that made me believe he couldn't care less about all but one of those offers. Still, his business is his, and my business is the new Ao3 update on my favorite chrollo lucilfer fanfiction. What a babe. 

I decided that the class as of right now would be of no importance to me, considering I will have no offers, and bakugou-the reason I came here- hates me like I'm a piece of gum stuck under his shoe.  Through that conclusion I allowed myself to dissolve into the world of hxh and forget about how boring this world is. 

Could my power beat Killua or go in a fight? I mean, it doesn't enhance my strength like they did trying to get into Killua's house so physically they must be stronger. 

"Y/n! Is there something you would like to share with the class?"

Mr.Aizawas voice seemed almost shot at me as my gaze rose from my phone in my lap to meet him at the front of the room. He looked displeased to say the least. Well good for him, im displeased too, I might not be able to beat a fucking twelve year old in combat. 

"Huh?"

"You were grumbling, what's so important you had to tell us, hm?"

I thought it through for a second- just kidding, I never think anything through. 

"Oh, well I wasn't sure if I could beat Gon in a fight, but I'm not coming to the realization that if Chrollo is my boyfriend, I shouldn't have to fight anyone at all. I can just be a pretty face in the backgrounds and then after he wins for me i'll suck his-"

"Enough, y/n." Mr.Aizawa no longer held a tired looking face, his eyes were wide and an uncomfortable cringed was set on his face. As I peered at the rest of the class many also had shocked eyes, but unlike our teacher, held faint blushes. 

Minus midoriya, his face was completely red and his eyes void of life. I must've killed him, huh. 

"Wait!"

In an attempt to regain some dignity, I tried to correct myself.

"I would....not suck his-?"

"Don't even say it, shitty princess !"

"Woah bakugou, you spoke to me on purpose!?"

"Shut up!"

"Hey, how come you call me princess, you like me or something?"

He growled at that, neither of us paying mind to the fact that everyone in the class was either dead from nosebleeds or extremely uncomfortable and staring at us.  

"Its cuz you act fucking entitled like a princess"

"I'll be your pillow princes-"

"Enough!" A robotic-like hand sliced the air in front of me. The voice sounded firm, almost more teacher-like than our teacher's voice. I followed my gaze up the hand, not failing to notice how as I drew up the guy's arm his muscles only seemed to get bigger and bigger and- iida? 

"Oh class rep-"

"Y/n this vulgar language and border-line harassment needs to cease immediately. I will not tolerante overtly sexual language and acts in this class-"

As he was speaking I noticed something ironic about the situation. If everyone here didn't like sexual jokes or banter, how were they so flustered at comments that objectively should be unknown to them. 

"How did you know what I meant, iida?" I rasped in a low sultry voice, allowing my fingers to dance up his arm starting at the wrist in front of my face. 

I heard a few chuckles from, who I would say are the only two people enjoying this situation: kaminari and...stinky mineta. Iida's face grew more red than previously and the arms in front of me began shaking. 

"Mr.Aizawa it seems I've disarmed the robot. Is there a restart button or something?" I question with a serious face using the search as an excuse to wonder my eyes all over his body. Perverted? Yes. Rightfully attracted to this giant hunk of a nerd. Yes ×10. 

"No, there is not." Todoroki, who was in front of me, finally turned around to address me. I guess he was unfazed by my words. Looks like someone here can be cool. Whether he is okay because he is more comfortable with sexual jokes, or because he has yet to pick up on them, its nice that somebody in here can still function. Otherwise, I'd feel like a nuisance. 

"Y/n I'm not really sure how to- let's just say to have detention with your m- midnight. Detention. Yeah." Aizawa publicly convinced himself of my punishment? 

"Okay"

"Now, back to this, even if you didn't get any offers ALL of you will have an internship" 

And so went on the class, kids chose their hero names, not me though. I wasn't even sure I wanted to be a hero at all, this was just a little less boring and sad than the way I lived before. This school had people who laughed in joy, not just to mask the pain. That was the real benefit, not being a hero, or being strong. Likely no one here realized that there were many places where none of this joy was possible. 

Some of the kids in class gave me suggestions for a hero name, but I didn't like them anyway. They lacked personality, and while I have many adjectives to describe my personality, my life, none of them are all that heroic. 

"Dark element"

"Girl who will die if her quirk doesnt like its environment" 

See, I'm not the best at this. Even bakugan names had some sense to it...well no. I'd say we're about the same, but still. Ugh. 

~timeskip~ 

Bakugou pov 😠

She came up with no hero names. Fucking entitled brat. Everyone at this lunch table seems to have no problem with the fact that she is here, just happy to have another pair of tits to stare at like perverts. Their gross. I bet she doesn't even want to be a hero, she sure as hell doesn't act like it. We don't even know what her whole quirk is. Ive seen her do that plant shit a couple times, fucking with flowers or whatever. Still, there's more to it. Something we don't know, at least. Cuz in the middle of class she gets up and whispers to Aizawa and he just lets her go. Where the fuck does she go? 

Interrupts class, got into the school because her moms a teacher, won't use her quirk. What a nuisance, I can't believe she is not expelled yet. Plus those bullshit sex jokes are so shitty. She is obviously faking something when she does them. Not like midnight, who always at least seems like she means that gross shit. 

"Hey, who did you guys choose for your internship? I haven't chosen yet."

"The number three hero guy," I spoke, knowing I'm the only person here who already chose. 

"Really? Best jeanist! That's so cool, but are you sure that for you bakugou?" Shitty hair raised a shitty brow at me. 

"What the hell is that supposed to mean!?"

"Just that he seems pretty...uptight..for you?" Dunceface added, but he spoke like it was a question. Of course he is the hero for me, he is the highest ranting hero on my list. If I wanna be number one, I gotta train with the best. 

If I go to his agency I'm sure there will be a lot more action, since he is so high ranking. Then i'll get some real experience kicking villain ass, well, other than the USJ. 

"Of course he is the right option!"

"Woahhh~"

Shit. It's her voice. I honestly should applaud her for using it less often around me but, how can one small girl be so goddamn annoying. I don't even know what she has to say and I already wish she would just put a sock in it. How can someone so entitled like her, probably never had to lift a finger, walk  over here and talk like she has something to say. 

"You're working with the best jeanist! So cool, one time he saved me from a group of rapist guys, it was awesome with all these strings everywhere and I could only see half of his face. Oh and he had goofy hair too!"

Oh. I didn't really know how to respond to the girl who looked so excited about almost being violated. Another thing wrong with her? I looked back at the other people at the table to see if they knew how to respond to something like that. 

Dunceface was frozen, tape arms were frozen, shitty hair was frozen, and alíen eyes were looking like a lost puppy and trying not to cry. 

It didnt seem like the shutty princess was exactly understanding how what she just yelled was making things weird. She just stood there expectantly. She kinda looked like she thought being raped was something that must happen to everyone. Did she think that? Wouldn't put it past her weird ass. 

"Uhm...anyways, i'm sure you'll do awesome, he likes to put boys in tight jeans. Wish I could intern too, I'd love to see that boom boom~" she winked. 

A perverted joke...and then she had the audacity to wink at me. 

"You wish you could see me in tight jeans, shitty extra!"

"I know...thats what a I just said." She dead panned, blinking a couple times at me. 

"Tch, screw you!"

"I would-" 

"Can it, i don't wanna hear your shitty voice anymore"

The girl stopped herself after my words, pushing all her hair behind her head, except for the two blond stands in the front. 

(You don't have to acknowledge these if you don't want, but I made it so that they change color depending on what element your using and I thought it was hot*if you have short hair, then you just got a lil nishinoya type thing 🥰)

Lifted her obnoxious hands that moved around while she talked and made a zipper-like motion over her lips. Then she just stood there looking at me. I really wanted to just let her stand there and go back to eating. Ignore her completely and let her hope fizzle out and die or something like that. 

Yet here I am, still looking at her. Silently. Wishing she made a stupid joke so that I could stop flickering between those images I'd seen of her dancing. How even though ballet is a princess fucking dance, the pictures felt nice. Like if I was watching it live I would probably be unable to criticize it. That pissed me off, because I want to hate everything about her, but I can't hate those photos. Where she looks like she is flying, without any need for a quirk.

I see her in that weird gown, and now, in the UA uniform. I see her looking respectable, formal, and serious. Then I see her stupid little smirk as she takes pride in being able to shut up for more than a minute. 

"Why are you still standing there?"

Instead of answering, she took her hand up again, made a pinch with her fingers and unzipped her mouth. 

"I was enjoying the look in your eyes."she smiled. 

The look in my eyes? Could she tell I was seeing two different people? What the hell does that even mean? Even said it without that shitty flirt voice. Like she meant it. 

"You tryna make fun of me?"I stood up from the table to get in her face.

"Not right now, maybe later, I gotta do something." She smiled sincerely at me, for a second as she walked away, I forgot about how this conversation started. What a wierd fucking girl. I'll never respect her as a hero. Tch. (Yes, its canon he tchs even in his thoughts) 

3rd person POV 

Y/n briskly walked out of the cafeteria with a new goal in mind. She would come to remember how maybe being oblivious was a benefit in some ways, but for now, she had a clear plan .

"Mr.Aizawa, let me do an internship."

"You weren't in the festival, I can't just hand you to a hero who has no idea what you can do, y/n."

"Well, you know what I can do, right?"

"No. I'm not doing internships. Stop asking."

"That's not what I meant! You can just tell them, or I could, it's not that hard to explain. Just say i'm all- powerful or some play on words like 'she's got all the right elements' hehe, see how i mimicked your voice there?" Y/n grinned like a child. She was proud of herself. 

"No. Still not happening."

"I wanna be an intern too, you raggedy ann looking ass hoe" 

"Y/n, it doesn't make sense, insulting me to get what you want?"

"Maybe it doesn't, but I bet you feel real insecure about your hair right now."

"You already have detention, what more do you want!"

"An internship, I wanna do one with kamui Woods, I have a good reason, too. As far as my quirk control, i'm the weakest with earth, the aspect that allows me to grow and manipulate plants and stuff. That's why I've only been using that part of it all month. Im trying to get her up to speed so I can start using all four at once. He is like a tres guy, right? He manipulates earth all day long. He could teach me a lot, and that aspect of my quirk would suit his well. Please!?!?!?"

If the girl had just asked again in a normal way, his answer would have been the same. However Aizawa was taken aback to hear how much thought she put into this. From the stories of the teachers lounge, he came to understand her big life goal, was to rely fully on a rich man or woman, and do nothing at all forever. Just to try and forget about the terrible life she was destined to have because of that quirk.

This side of her was something he could not even her mother had seen, and it prompted him to speak those words she wanted to hear so badly.

"Fine." 

[litwitlady]

whoever is filthy, let him be filthy still (4/6)

Read on AO3. - A chapter ahead over there.

Warnings: mentions of murder and childhood abuse

iv. Max

‘And Max. He’s your brother? You were found together?’

Michael nods but frowns. ‘We’re brothers in theory, I guess.’ 

‘In theory? Explain that.’ Dr. Sampson hands him a cup of coffee and settles back into her seat. 

He shrugs. ‘He and Isobel were adopted together. I got thrown into the system. Once I returned to Roswell, we struggled - I struggled.’ He clears his throat and takes a sip of the coffee. ‘He can be a condescending dick. And as de facto leader, he pisses me off - a lot.’

‘Have you ever been close?’ Dr. Sampson has a voice that lures things from you - ugly truths that you never made a conscious decision to admit. To yourself or anyone else. Michael decides it’s her superpower. 

‘Once. Back in high school. Before all the lies.’

She smiles warmly, trying to soothe the answers loose. ‘I know you two aren’t blood related, Michael. And that your relationship is often strained. But do you still think of him as your brother?’

‘Only sometimes.’

***

Michael doesn’t immediately go to Max. He drags his feet for a couple of weeks and is happy to continue doing so, but Isobel has other ideas. She begins orchestrating reasons for family meetings - their doppelganger problem, Liz and Max’s emotional crisis, her desire to cook some new recipe. 

None of her plans work. Michael too stubborn and Max too oblivious. It’s not until Max unexpectedly climbs down into Michael’s bunker that avoidance is no longer possible. And he comes at the worst moment. Michael is already fuming - his newest calculations providing nothing but bad news. No matter how many simulations he runs. It’s frustrating, but not nearly as frustrating as when he’d run into Alex and Forrest that morning. At the Crashdown having breakfast, hands touching across the table. This time they had noticed him and he honestly wishes they hadn't.

‘Not in the mood, Maxwell.’ He doesn’t bother looking up from his worktable.

Max ignores him and slides a stool over, sitting far enough away that Michael can’t reach him. Already playing defense to Michael’s anger. ‘You’re never going to be in the mood for this, so sit down and listen.’

Michael laughs, bitter and sarcastic. ‘Fuck you, Max.’

‘I don’t want to be the leader of this anymore.’ He motions vaguely around the bunker.

That certainly grabs Michael’s attention. ‘Come to handover your letter of resignation?’ He sits down on his own stool and smirks at Max. ‘Because I accept. Long live Queen Isobel.’

‘Not Isobel, Michael. You.’ He’s looking at Michael through those big, brown puppy dog eyes - full of sincerity. Not a single hint of humor anywhere on his face.

Michael laughs anyway. ‘I don’t have time for this, Max. Go brood somewhere else.’ 

Max stays quiet but he doesn’t move. He watches Michael work for a long time. It frustrates Michael because it’s always been one of his favorite strategies. Wait him out until he crumbles - which Michael always does because Max can be a patient motherfucker once he digs his heels in and decides to be an asshole.

The air around them thickens and when Max clears his throat, Michael comes the tiniest bit unhinged.

‘Alright, fuck! Say what you came to say. I’ll listen.’ He only half means it, but Max seems satisfied enough. 

‘Sheriff Valenti confessed something to me a few months back. Something I’ve kept from you and Isobel.’ He stares down at his hands and grimaces. ‘I didn’t know how to tell you or what any of it meant or even who I was anymore. And that was wrong. I’ve been wrong about a lot of things, Michael. Especially with you.’

Michael rolls his eyes at Max’s melodramatics. ‘Spare me the contrition, Max. Just spit it out already. I have work to do.’ 

‘It wasn’t you in the group home who was drawing all over the walls. It was me.’ Their eyes meet over the table and a heated silence falls around them. Michael blinks slowly, not comprehending what he’s just heard. ‘I was the deranged, damaged kid. And I think I’ve known that all along.’ He shakes his head and breaks eye contact, staring back down at his hands.

More silence. Several moments stretching long between them. Finally, Max sighs. ‘Say something.’ Emotion straining his voice. Eyes welling with tears.

Michael continues to glare at Max. Not believing he has the audacity to cry. He tries to stand but it’s like he’s glued in place. And instead of his normal white hot rage, a calm coolness washes over him. Pooling in the bottom of his belly. Michael knows that feeling is hate. Pure, icy hatred. He’s not unfamiliar with the feeling - Jesse Manes, Kyle Valenti, Flint Manes, Noah Bracken. Sometimes the list seems endless.

‘Explain it better, Max. Make it make sense.’ Every word pushed through teeth clenched so tight he’s worried they’ll break.

The tension surges between them, the temperature palpably rising in the windowless bunker. Michael’s not sure he’ll hear anything Max says - not with the ferocious pounding in his head. Blood pumping through his veins like icy sludge.

‘All my nightmares as a kid - the times Isobel literally had to mind-walk me so I’d calm down. My obsession with the symbol - the way I’d doodle it over and over again in every notebook I ever owned. And then the tattoo.’ His voice cracks, high-pitched and frantic. ‘Now, with all that devil talk? Michael, I couldn’t have survived what you survived. I’d have killed more than some random pervert in the desert.’

Michael stalks towards him, fists raised. ‘Is that supposed to make me feel better? I was kicked around - slapped, beaten, burned. And that’s all supposed to be okay because you were safe? From yourself?’ A strangled noise rises from Michael’s throat. ‘I was never loved, Max. Not ever. Not once. All so you could be protected and loved, held tight by the perfect fucking family?’ 

He takes several steps forward, fisting the collar of Max’s jacket. The urge to wrap his hands around his brother’s throat throbbing in his fingers.

Max grips Michael’s wrists softly. ‘And yet, you are the most loving of the three of us. Of anyone I’ve ever met. And no that’s not fair, but it’s the goddamn truth.’ He pounds his fist on the table and Michael flinches, dropping his hands away and stepping back. Watching as Max’s tears finally crawl down his cheeks. ‘You’ve always had the most control - ever since we were kids.’ He throws his hands up in submission. ‘You’re not the murderer, Michael. I am. It always had to be this way.’

A manic sort of laughter overwhelms Michael. He can barely believe what he’s just heard. And by someone meant to love him. He turns his back to Max and moves as far away as he can. The rage inside him festering into something almost sentient. He closes his eyes and counts backwards from twenty - inhaling and exhaling around every number. Like Dr. Sampson had suggested whenever his anger tries to get the best of him. 

Michael can choose to take back control. To let it all go. Even if the other person doesn’t deserve such kindness.

And it works, mostly. Some of his tension drains away and the weight on his chest subsides enough for him to breathe again. He’s still angry - still furious. But it’s a low, simmering heat now - not the numbing white hatred that had consumed him earlier. His head is spinning with this sudden rewrite of his life and there’s only one person he wants to talk to right now. And that person is certainly not Max Evans.

Michael slowly turns around and shakes his head at Max. ‘I need time. Maybe a lot of time.’ He needs Alex. ‘I miss my brother. I’ve missed my brother for a long time now. But the truth is, Max? I don’t recognize you anymore.’

Max nods. ‘I get that. And for whatever it’s worth, I’m sorry.’ He starts to walk away but stops with one foot on the ladder. ‘I won’t tell Isobel yet. To keep her out of your hair for a while. However long it takes for you to process all this.’

‘I’ll tell her when I’m ready, Max. You don’t have to keep making all the decisions and putting in all the work. We can’t be a family until we’re all on equal footing.’ He moves towards Max. Not necessarily because he wants to - because he doesn’t. Not right now, anyway. But he knows that some future version of himself will want this. That Max needs this and Isobel. Maybe even Liz. So, he wraps his arms around Max, quick and tight. One sharp clap on the back. ‘Maybe take a trip to California.’ He pulls back. ‘I hear it’s nice this time of year.’

Michael returns to his calculations and Max leaves, already planning the best route to California in his head.

[jackalopefreckles]

I feel like Ive aged at least 6 years since covid started. Im angrier. Less adapted to being outside then I used to be- which is saying a lot. This time last year I was?? Actually healthier mentally then I had ever been and looking forward to having the house alone for a month which?? Was the most freedom I wouldve ever had.

A lots fucking changed. I drove halfway across the country- all 30 hours at once with my big brother AND two elderly dogs, plus my cat. All animals on too many drugs (the vet said they couldnt overdose, and then failed to give any further instruction) cami peed on herself twice, unable to move. I had to waterboard her in Phoenix, a truly terrifying hell city where all the roads are raised and overlapping and its a hot as shit cause its?? What june?? Time was so fake this year I mustve just been stoned the whole time till I ran out of weed, and since moving its been a relief to be able to turn off the spinning anxious thoughts for a few hours

my big brother joined us. He brought a new dog with him which?? Is always a lot, plus I have this pack of dogs now cause the puppy wouldnt leave the super cancer ridden dog alone, and Im able to get her cbd regularly here, so shes always comfortable now instead of just?? Sometimes which is a lot nicer. We didnt think shed make it to chrisrmas. I thought shed die with me home alone to take care of everything, like always. It was almost a relief, I wouldn't have to coach my brother through the grieving process at least, and I had already finished. Its hard now even, for me to realize she might even have another christmas (but I wont hold my breath)

I feel safer going outside here then I did in Austin. I only went out a handful of times in texas, for the last few months I was ordering almost all groceries, and only going to the store once mask mandates were mandatory (theyre not anymore. Im so worried for texas. I missed a huge freeze by mere months. I dont think my elderly dogs wouldnt survived it. If I was alone with them, Im not sure I woudlve.

My parents took my brother to mexico with them. I begged them not to go, told them how irresponsible it was to travel across boarders. To visit an island and take all the plane germs with. I told them that even if my mom and brother were staying at home all day with me, my dad was still going to work and he didnt know what his coworkers were doing. That they wouldn't know what the people on the plane were doing. That at any point they could become the stupid americans that killed half an islands population.

They left a week after today last year. The boarders were closed the next day. Their friend has been traveling back and forth ever since. I have no idea how, except for the fact shes white and rich and wont hesitate to destroy a child, so I can only imagine how shed treat costomer service.

I will no longer allow this angry aggressive woman to ever make me feel bad, and I will allow myself to finally fight back. Im an adult, maybe not all the time (cause lets be real I'll always be a bit too eccentric for most) but when I get angry and allow myself that anger, it's not a bad thing. Anger doesn't have to make me feel like Ive done something wrong. Im usually very just in my actions, and I wont allow my parents influence to tell me all anger is misdirected and hurtful for reasons I couldnt understand. Its okay for me to be angry.

I think being alone with animals for months is at least reassuring that my childhood was unreasonable if nothing else. Which of course is a silly polite society term for pretty fucked, if nothing else.

My aunt had to gall to say weve had a good 2020 cause our family wasnt hurt, and I had to walk away from the zoom call. I haven't attempted communication with any of them since, not that I normally do. Of course none of us died, all rich old white people, most of them retired and able to stay home all day (not that all of them did, I learned about my grandfathers routine and just.. Im honestly surprised no one got it yet. Of course I knew from the beginning if anyone was gonna get it and die, it probably wouldve been me. Hence the 8 months of solitude before the move.

Was the move in August?? Im so unsure about time. Even with 2020 vision.

I tried to date when I moved here. Strictly on tinder. What was the point? On and off testosterone due to the wonders of texas, hadnt changed my body nearly as much as they should've a year after being on them. I look much more handsome now. Im also allowing myself to toss gender aside completely. He/him doesn't mean man, and they/them dont mean nonbinary, so why not mix them since Im?? Not really either.

It wasnt even a thought process like that to start. Much more "this is nice" which I think more gender should be allowed to be. Dont gotta be deep just comfortable.

I wont ever allow my parents to forget what they did. I ended up with three dogs I didnt want (I was so looking forward to not having any dogs) and I ended up taking care of my brother. Again. Its easier without my parents at least. Everything always is. My dogs are even happier. Cami finally isnt anxious 24/7. Again, a sad reminder my childhood wasn't great. Daisy is healthier. Trauma can be stored emotionally or with health issues, often both. I think the cancer dog getting better and?? Surviving and thriving so much longer then the vet said (how good was my old vet?) Is another unfortunate nail in thay proverbial coffin.

Im not as soft and openly loving. Im even more touch starved somehow. Harsher. I still want to choose love and compassion, but Im not letting myself fall into the trap of being so nice people wont be nice to you. Fighting back is something I wont feel shameful about, because it never stopped me from doing it completely anyway.

I was already reaching this on my own though. This was just more coffins, more nails. This didnt need to happen. We know our government let this happen. Its still letting it happen. Im not sure when Im getting my vaccine. My big brothers sick of quarentine and keeps trying to get us to go out. Sometimes I yield, and we go to a park, or the top floor of the parking garage. I get a vegan hotdog from nearby. We talk and laugh and were genuinely just. Boys being boys.

I shouldn't have to deal with parent shit anymore. I do though, especially since two out of three are unemployed and we can really only afford to live here cause of them (they owe me if anything though. Especially with my brother and these animals) I hope I can get a job soon. Or maybe even go back to school. Im lucky I had so much saved up (for top surgery, which I guess wont happen before Im 25 like I really tried for. I wouldve done it before now, but texas waitlists and rules kept holding me up. I literally went to an appointment in dallas, a 4 hour drive, just to found out the surgeon canceled on me for the second time)

Its incredibly depressing, and I know Im lucky to have had that stash. So many people didnt have anything and lost so much. People lost people. Half a million at this point. I remember when it got to 300,000 and I just?? Felt so awful it was so close to how many people we lost to AIDS. Its over that by so many now. It doesn't really stop, does it??

Is that catholic guilt?? Or maybe just irish guilt in general. Is it something I inherited or earned through all the end of the worlds and once in a lifetime recessions Ive been through. Im not sure how many off the top of my head, theyve been coming since I was so small and its always more and more. Im not even catholic anymore. I cant stop being irish though, even though the brits tried (and succeeded. Weve lost a lot. The current royal cotastrophy is bullshit as well, the only person who deserves a royal title is from Meniappolos

My home is decorate all inside for st patrick's day. My big brother loves it so Im going all out, and its def making me feel much more irish then usual (which is a lot Im over half)

I think I just wanted to say Im not the same. I hope I can still be happy an obnoxious is public. I wonder if I remember how

[maraudererasmut]

Black and White (Part XV)

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Part XI | Part XII | Part XIII | Part XIV | Part XV | Part XVI | Part XVII | Part XVIII | Part XIX

When Sirius Black walked into the run-down little coffee shop that Remus worked at, he looked extremely out of place. The Daily Grind was one of those cafes that had mismatched furniture and paintings from local artists on the wall. It wasn't glamorous, not by any stretch of the imagination, but it felt comfortable— homey. Remus was willing to bet that Sirius had never set foot in a cafe like this, preferring to get his coffee from Starbucks or a butler in a tuxedo or something. 

The first thing that Remus noticed about Sirius was that he was wearing a suit, like always, with his long hair in a loose bun and his posture stiffer than a board. He glanced around him, scanning the room, until his eyes met with Remus' and his jaw tightened. Remus forced himself to smile politely, offering the gallery owner a small wave. Sirius made his way over to Remus' table, his typical saunter less noticeable now that he was in an unfamiliar environment.

"Good evening, Sirius. Thank you for joining me." Remus kept his tone courteous, his words formal. He knew that he would have trouble relaxing around Sirius. The two of them had a business relationship exclusively; meeting up socially was strange and unprecedented.

Sirius' mouth twisted into what Remus could only assume was an attempt at a grin. 

"Remus," he muttered stiffly, giving a firm nod. He glanced down at the empty chair in front of Remus, but remained standing. Remus felt his shoulders tighten in discomfort.

"Please… have a seat." Remus gestured towards the empty chair and Sirius nodded again before sitting down. "Uh… thanks for meeting me."

He didn't know what else to say. Seeing Sirius in the cafe wasn't quite as hilarious has Remus had anticipated; instead, the two men were both uncomfortable, awkward, struggling to relax in front of one another.

"Yes, well…" Sirius began, before trailing off. "So… is this where you work?"

Remus nodded, his hands tightening around his cup of tea. He didn't hate his job, but it was exhausting. He was on his feet most of the day and he rarely had enough energy to paint at night. It took everything Remus had in him to drag himself out of bed each morning, ready to face the same mundane routine that slowly ate away at him. 

"It's… nice." Sirius glanced around at the paintings on the wall. His mouth spread into a thin smile as recognition lit up his face. "There's a familiar one…"

Remus glanced over his shoulder to find one of his older pieces hanging on the wall behind him.

"Oh… yeah… I forgot that one was there. It's… not my best work."

"No, it isn't."

Remus spun around to cast a glare at Sirius.

"That's not very polite."

Sirius cocked an eyebrow and Remus could have sworn he saw the slightest hint of humour in those silvery eyes.

"Why? It's not. Your current stuff is much better. The paintings that you've been producing recently? They're a different caliber altogether."

Remus could feel his cheeks heat up as Sirius paid him a rare compliment. It was backhanded, yes, but it was the closest thing to praise that he could hope for from the gallerist.

"Uh… thanks." 

Sirius leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his bangs and brushing them away from his eyes. Remus felt himself mirroring Sirius, finally able to sink into his chair and relax slightly. 

"So…" Sirius began, cutting the silence, his tone gentler than usual. "I… I am sorry. About yesterday. I know I said that earlier, I just… want you to know that."

Remus chewed the edge of his lip, trying to formulate his response. Every fiber of his being wanted to say it's okay, to brush off what happened the other day as if it had been perfectly normal. That was his immediate response to everything. 

It's fine.

It's no bother.

It's okay.

Although he couldn't figure out why, there was a part of Remus that didn't want this to be the same as always. It wasn't okay. The way Sirius treated him wasn't fine, and Remus wasn't going to allow himself to be a doormat. Not this time.

"You were an arse."

"I know." Sirius' gaze dropped to his hands, which were fiddling with a packet of sugar. Remus felt a wave of something— was it affection? — pass over him as he watched Sirius. He hated it.

"It was rude," Remus continued, trying to sound upset, to hide the fact that Sirius' fiddling was in any way endearing. "The way you spoke to me. The way you acted around me. It really was unprofessional."

"I know."

Sirius didn't justify his actions. He didn't make any excuses, didn't try to explain anything, he simply sat there as Remus called him out, a distinct look of guilt darkening his silvery blue eyes. 

"You… really shouldn't treat people that way…"

"I know."

Remus paused. He brought his tea to his mouth and took a sip, giving himself time to think.

"Why?"

Sirius glanced back up at Remus, his eyes shining like a lost puppy. Remus had to suppress a grin.

"Why what?" The gallerist asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Why did you… what made you so upset? Why were you so… cruel?"

Remus watched as Sirius closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He exhaled slowly as he leaned further back in his chair, as if he knew this question had been coming the entire time. Sirius' eyes shot open, darting back and forth as they searched Remus' face. After a moment, Sirius finally spoke.

"You don't know much about me…" He began, before trailing off. Remus remained silent, assuming that there was more to follow. There was. "I… I do that on purpose. I don't like getting too close to my artists. It… this has been strange for me; you being friendly with James. It… made things awkward."

Remus cocked a brow and pursed his lips.

"How so?"

Sirius gave a heavy sigh.

"I don't… really have any family. I have James and Lily. That's it. They're… they're all I have."

Remus was confused. He had read about the Black family before; they were well-established business people, the family name known throughout the city from their various enterprises. Sirius was a member of this prestigious family, how could he say he didn't have any?

Remus' face must have betrayed his thoughts, because Sirius let out a dark laugh.

"Before you ask, no, I'm not close with the other Blacks. They're… the only thing we share is the name. I'm not… well, I'm different. We don't speak anymore. It's better that way."

"Oh." Remus didn't know how else to respond. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's as much my doing as it is theirs."

"I see…"

"Anyway…" Sirius' fingers turned the sugar packet over and over and over. "I'm… very protective of James and Lily…"

Remus scoffed. 

"You weren't jealous, were you?" He asked with a grin. Sirius didn't respond, and Remus realized his mistake. His smile faded. "...were you?"

Sirius shrugged his shoulders, his focus remaining on the sugar that danced through his hands.

Never in a million years would Remus have expected Sirius Black to be jealous of him. Remus was broke. He worked himself to the bone, barely sleeping, hardly eating, unable to afford anything beyond the absolute necessities. 

"I'm…" Remus began, not sure what it was he wanted to say. "I don't think James or Lily would ever replace you…"

"No, I know that…" Sirius said to the sugar. "I know that. I just… have trouble believing it…"

The man in front of Remus was someone so different than the Sirius Black he thought he knew. This was someone soft, scared, afraid of losing the people he loved. This was a man who had everything and nothing all at once, who couldn't fathom going through life on his own. This was someone that Remus understood.

"I'm… I'm sorry if I— "

"No, you're fine," Sirius interrupted, glancing back up at Remus, a forced smile on his face. "This was on me. I've got a bit of a temper. I lashed out at you. And I'm sorry about that. Anyway…" Sirius' hand dropped the sugar and brushed his bangs from his eyes. "None of this is important. You just… wanted to know why. So… that's why."

"I really am sor— "

"Can we please drop it?" Some of the ice returned to Sirius' voice, reflected in the glacial blue of his eyes. Remus gave the gallerist a curt nod, knowing that the subject was a delicate one. 

"Yeah, sure. Consider it dropped." Remus tried to smile, to keep his emotions hidden from his face. "We're good, you and I. As far as I'm concerned…"

"Good."

"Yeah…"

"So…" Sirius mumbled, picking up his sugar packet again, breaking the suddenly awkward silence. "You mentioned a message?"

Shit.

Remus swallowed past the lump in his throat. When he was still angry at Sirius, he had planned to make the man feel bad about his drunken voicemail. Now that they had connected over a candid heart-to-heart, it didn't seem right to bring it up.

"It… it was nothing. Honestly…"

Sirius raised a brow skeptically.

"Remus…"

"You… you just left a voicemail is all. It really wasn't anything… you didn't say much…"

Remus watched as the colour faded from Sirius' face, his eyes growing wide with horror. Butterflies erupted in the pit of Remus' stomach as the icy blue of Sirius' irises melted through his heart.

Shit shit shit…

"It really wasn't—"

"I don't remember leaving that…" Sirius twisted his sugar in his hand, accidentally breaking the packet and spilling the grains across the table. "Fuck!"

"It's fine! I've got it! I can clean it up!" 

As Remus moved to sweep up the mess with his napkin, Sirius slammed his fist against the table, startling the artist and causing the sugar grains to jump.

"Was I drunk?"

Remus blinked. He looked at Sirius, who suddenly looked more angry than nervous.

"Uh… p— possibly? It was only a voic— "

"Was I drunk, Remus?"

Sirius looked— well, serious.

"Uh… y— yeah… I… I think so."

"Fuck!" Sirius' profanities echoed across the cafe, earning him scathing glares from the other patrons. "Shit!" He muttered, a bit quieter.

"Really, Sirius. It's fine. It wasn't anything! You didn't say anything embarrassing or anyth—"

"I have to go."

Sirius was on his feet before Remus could even respond. The artist stared up at the other man, mouth agape, utterly confused.

"Sirius, you don't—"

"I'm sorry, Remus."

He did sound sorry. His eyes grew soft for a moment as his gaze lingered on Remus. Then, before the artist could get in another word, Sirius was heading towards the door.

"Sirius, wait!"

Remus' protests came too late, Sirius was already out of earshot. Remus stared as the expensive suit and elegant bun faded from view, wondering what the hell had just happened.