#and i hope i did your idea justice!!!

[carmenlire]

hi!! i just read your flex on me fic and saw your jaeyoung tags on a semantic error gifset and can i just say i love your perspective on these characters. the fic made my heart so warm and i love you write jaeyoung and sangwoo so lovingly. i especially love how you write how much jaeyoung spoils sangwoo. i was wondering what your pov would be of jaeyoung if sangwoo ever got sick or hurt. id love to know <3 again ty for the amazing fic!!

Hi!! omg this is such a lovely message!! first of all, thank you so much for reading Flex on Me and sending a really nice message :') I'm so happy that you enjoyed that fic. i love semantic error So Much and it was so fun to write jaeyoung and sangwoo in an established relationship!!

I am such a sucker for the way that Jaeyoung cares for Sangwoo. In the show we see that, even when they aren't together yet-- even when Jaeyoung isn't completely sold on if he even likes Sangwoo-- he still tells on himself. Half the times he was "annoying" Sangwoo, it was just him flirting/taking care of him!!! And as we know Sangwoo's reactions might not be as overt but he still falls so deep and his love for Jaeyoung shines through in the quiet moments. These two play so well together and I love that they're both idiots in love but as individuals, they're strong and capable and independent.

Which brings us to this LOVELY scenario you sent me! Honestly, this entire message made me so happy but then you asked for me to talk about these two even more?? I'm like a kid in a candy store right now.

So, as previously established Jaeyoung is 1) exceedingly smart/capable 2) hopelessly in love with Sangwoo and 3) loves to spoil his boyfriend. So what happens if Sangwoo is injured/sick? Jaeyoung turns into the Ultimate Boyfriend, of course!

I'm putting the rest under a read more because i lowkey wrote a whole fic-- I hope you like it!!

Let's say that Sangwoo gets a horrendous cold every fall. He can feel it coming a few days before, the first warning signs.-- a tickle in his throat, a vague ache in his joints. He's been dating Jaeyoung for awhile now and he's so happy he didn't think it was possible to feel this much-- and as much as it pains him, he knows the next week isn't gong to be very fun so he starts pulling back a little from Jaeyoung. Sangwoo doesn't want him to get sick-- he has a important deadline coming up-- and, well, he also doesn't want Jaeyoung to see him like that. Gross and snotty and even more easily irritable than usual (forget that now that they're together, while Sangwoo can be prickly and exacting, Jaeyoung is rarely treated to the full Sangwoo Effect anymore. Yuna thinks it's disgusting how soft they are on each other, especially considering their origin story).

So, knowing what's coming, Sangwoo starts coming up with excuses for why he can't see Jaeyoung. Oh, he has to meet a professor during lunch. Sorry hyung, I have to get this project done tonight you can't come over. The first time it happens, Jaeyoung pouts for a second but goes ahead and meets Yuna and Hyeongtak for lunch. When Sangwoo avoids him that night, however, his suspicions rise but he still easily accepts it, working halfheartedly on his own stuff for a minute before quickly growing bored without Sangwoo there to ground him (he’s really gotten so used to working next to his boyfriend at night) and putting on a show on Netflix while sending Sangwoo a truly alarming number of messages that are both cute and annoying!

Sangwoo responds to them later that night after he finishes his homework and Jaeyoung is treated to a goodnight selfie that makes his heart warm and his cheeks ache with how much he loves his boy. Sangwoo is wearing one of Jaeyoung’s hoodies, hair messy like it only is right before or after bed, and there’s a hint of a smile on his face. The message is short and sweet. Goodnight, hyung. I love you. Don’t forget to set an alarm.

And part of Jaeyoung wants to scoff because they’ve been dating less than a year but a much bigger part of him just wiggles in delight because Sangwoo has memorized his schedule and cares enough to send these little reminders. It makes something soft and warm curl up and flutter in his stomach anytime he stops to think about it.

Still, he thinks he sees a hint of red lining Sangwoo’s eyes, touching the tip of his nose. Goodness knows that Jaeyoung stares at the picture long enough to memorize it but he tells himself it was just the lighting and goes to sleep– but not before sending his own selfie and message with way too many emojis.

All of which to say, Sangwoo is able to dodge Jaeyoung for another day before his careful plans melt into disarray. By this time, his throat hurts and he accidentally-on-purpose snapped at an upperclassman who tried to wheedle for the answers to this afternoon’s homework. It’s Thursday and he already knows that his plans for the weekend will consist of nothing but being lonely and miserable with nothing but a box of Kleenex for company.

Because that’s another thing. It’s been less than 48 hours since he saw Jaeyoung and he’s going half crazy with it. Knowing that Jaeyoung is so close but that he can’t see him is affecting Sangwoo more than he thought it would. Especially when he’s so miserable and feels like shit and knows that it’ll get worse before it gets better.

He catches himself wanting to text Jaeyoung every hour– sometimes just to talk but a lot of the time he has to stop himself from asking his boyfriend to come over. God, he wants nothing more than to lay down on his boyfriend’s chest. He’s been sleeping in one of Jaeyoung’s hoodies for the past couple of days but it’s a sad imitation of the real thing.

But no, he tells himself firmly for the hundredth time. He doesn’t want to get his boyfriend sick. Jaeyoung has so much going on and it would be selfish and unfair of him to not only impose but impose knowing that Jaeyoung could get sick.

Saying it doesn’t help the way he wants, though. He’s always been a little needy, a bit clingy when he’s not feeling well. When it’s happened at university, he’s powered through knowing that there was no one to take care of him but himself. Knowing that Jaeyoung is just a call away is bittersweet.

Jaeyoung, for his part, knows by this point that something is up and that Sangwoo is definitely avoiding him. What he doesn’t know is why. Sangwoo’s replies are still as understatedly loving as ever. He still sent a goodnight selca last night. But besides his time in France, this is the longest they’ve gone without seeing each other in person and it’s kinda driving Jaeyoung crazy.

Deciding enough is enough and that Sangwoo can damn well tell him to his face why he’s avoiding him, Jaeyoung decides to meet Sangwoo after his coding class that afternoon. It’s Thursday and Thursdays are always their movie nights and Sangwoo hasn’t ghosted him yet but Jaeyoung can see it coming and he wants to know why.

After his consulting meeting is done, Jaeyoung heads over to campus. Looking down at his watch, he sees that Sangwoo’s class should be letting out in ten minutes, so he heads over to the computer science building to wait. He replies to Yuna’s texts in the meantime and looks up just as a dozen or so students pour out the doors.

He scans their faces but none of them are Sangwoo, which is unusual. His boyfriend is usually the first one out. Jaeyoung’s just getting ready to text him, see if he missed him after all, when Sangwoo finally exits the building.

Before he even quite knows what he’s seeing, something in Jaeyoung’s heart just melts. It’s a cold November day, the sky dark and gloomy, the air frigid. And there Sangwoo is, bundled in one of his hoodies– a red one, to Jaeyoung’s surprise– face mask and hat all but completely obscuring his face. Over the hoodie, is one of Jaeyoung’s jackets that he’d thought he’d lost last time he did laundry.

His mouth curls at the corner in delight. He’s such a little thief, Jaeyoung thinks absolutely besotted.

“Sangwoo-ah,” Jaeyoung calls out.

Sangwoo jerks to a standstill, looking up. Even though most of his face is covered, Jaeyoung sees well enough that Sangwoo feels caught.

“Hyung?” Sangwoo asks, not stepping any closer. “What are you doing here?”

Well, fine then. Jaeyoung takes it upon himself to close the distance between them. He doesn’t stop until he’s standing right in front of Sangwoo and then he leans down until he’s in his space. “Can’t a boyfriend surprise his boyfriend after class?” He raises an eyebrow, knowing he’s definitely annoying Sangwoo.

And there’s the spark in Sangwoo’s eyes that’s always a dead giveaway that he’s about to get huffy. Something in Jaeyoung hums in satisfaction– he loves getting a reaction out of Sangwoo.

In the next moment, he’s frowning, though. Because sure there’s a spark now but Sangwoo’s eyes look a little dull, the shadows underneath them pronounced. His forehead is a little sweaty and that doesn’t make sense at all– sure, Sangwoo is wearing a hoodie and jacket but it is November and it is freezing. He’s dressed appropriately.

“Baby,” Jaeyoung asks, voice dropping to something low and warm. Sangwoo had said once, half delirious with sleep deprivation, that he loves Jaeyoung’s voice always but especially when it takes on this cadence. Makes me feel taken cared of, feels like it wraps around me, makes me feel warm, he’d said.

The admission had ruined Jaeyoung in a way that made him want to use the voice all the time, just to see the way tension melted off Sangwoo’s shoulders. He’d made a study of it– using the voice during sex was a given but slipping into it when Sangwoo was stressed, when he wanted to tease in a way that made both of them turn into each other, when it was just the two of them and Jaeyoung just wanted Sangwoo to know he was there– the feeling is indescribable, knowing the power Sangwoo lets him wield.

Now, when there’s just a few other students rushing around, when it’s like the two of them are in their own bubble on campus, using that tone stills something deep in both of them.

Jaeyoung reaches a hand up, trails a finger over the shell of Sangwoo’s ear.

He wasn’t really worried that something was wrong. Most of Jaeyoung just missed Sangwoo and wanted to see him and maybe tease him about how could school be more important than spending quality time with his perfect boyfriend.

Now, though– well, he’s still not worried but he knows something is up and he knows they aren’t leaving this spot until Sangwoo tells him.

Sangwoo is staring straight ahead at his chin, not making eye contact. Jaeyoung leans even further down, until he’s almost touching the fabric of Sangwoo’s face mask, until his boyfriend has no choice but to meet his gaze.

“Baby,” he murmurs, watching as something shifts behind those beautiful eyes– even when he’s not at his best, Sangwoo still takes his breath away. “Tell hyung what’s wrong, hm?”

He hears Sangwoo suck in a breath before he’s leaning back, holding a hand to Jaeyoung’s chest to keep the space between them.

“I told you that I need to focus on school for the next few days,” Sangwoo says. The words words feel stiff, like he’s rehearsed them too much to ring true.

Jaeyoung reaches up for the hand staying him, links their fingers before bringing them right back together. Sangwoo doesn’t protest.

Time to play a little dirty, then. Jaeyoung smiles, something small that curves the edge of his eyes. Sangwoo’s own narrow in warning but Jaeyoung doesn’t pay him any mind.

He squeezes the hand still in his, wraps his other arm around Sangwoo until it rests low on his back. He pulls him forward into an embrace close to a hug as he whispers in his ear, “Come on, baby. You know I can tell when you’re lying.”

To his surprise, Sangwoo doesn’t immediately pull back and get defensive. Sangwoo doesn’t deflect or start arguing. There’s no quip on his tongue, eager to spill out and start a round of bickering that’s usually fun and engaging.

No, instead his cute little boyfriend just snuggles into him?

Jaeyoung can’t help the shiver that snakes up his spine as Sangwoo noses along the column of his throat. His face mask is scratchy against his skin but his boyfriend doesn’t seem to mind the barrier between them.

“Sangwoo?”

Sangwoo’s arms come up to wrap around his waist, squeezing him closer. He lays his head against Jaeyoung’s shoulder, seems to settle in, humming contentedly.

Tightening his grip, Jaeyoung starts swaying them back and forth a little. Resting his head on top of Sangwoo’s, Jaeyoung can’t help his smile. He squeezes a little. “Sangwoo-ah, baby, can you answer me?”

Something in Jaeyoung– definitely his heart– absolutely melts at the way Sangwoo relaxes against him. This isn’t anything new, Sangwoo has a tendency to slip like this when it’s just them, but it is unexpected for it to happen in public. And while Jaeyoung still doesn’t think anything is dangerously wrong, he needs to find out what’s going on.

Finally, Sangwoo sighs. His voice is low and hoarse and rough at the edges. His tone is petulant as he reluctantly says, “I don’t feel good, hyung.”

Jaeyoung’s heart squeezes painfully before tumbling at Sangwoo’s feet. He lays a soft edge to the shell of Sangwoo’s ear. “What’s wrong, baby?”

It’s silent for a long moment that fills with the sounds of birds in the distance, the chatter of a group of students several yards away talking about the midterm they all just failed. Internally, Jaeyoung starts compiling a list of things he might need in the immediate future, from medicine to Sangwoo’s favorite ghibli film to that chicken congee recipe he had his eomma email him during his freshman year.

Sangwoo eventually pulls back enough to meet Jaeyoung’s eyes. His own are red and a little hazy. He stares at Jaeyoung for a long moment and Jaeyoung lets himself look back. The truth is, Sangwoo looks a little miserable and things are coming together but he needs Sangwoo to just tell him so that Jaeyoung can do what he wants to– what, suddenly, he has a burning need to do.

“I’m in the midst of an annual cold,” Sangwoo finally says, sounding extremely disgruntled. Jaeyoung bites his cheek so he doesn’t smile– God, Sangwoo is so cute like this.

Jaeyoung leans a little closer, narrowing his eyes in the way that’s mostly teasing but still has a kernel of seriousness. “And why didn’t you tell me? Me, your boyfriend, whose job is to take care of his boyfriend when he’s not feeling well?” He pouts exaggeratedly. “I can’t take care of you if you avoid me, Jagiya.”

Studiously avoiding his gaze, Sangwoo takes a shuddering breath before he mutters, “You shouldn’t have to take care of me, especially not when you have so much on your plate right now.”

Jaeyoung immediately shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter,” he says firmly.

Even under the mask, Jaeyoung can see Sangwoo’s mouth turn down. “I could get you sick.”

Jaeyoung reaches a hand up to flick against the brim of Sangwoo’s hat just to see the mulish set of his brows better. “Doesn’t matter,” he repeats.

“But–”

“Sangwoo-ah,” Jaeyoung cuts him off, leaning down until he’s back in his space. He gentles his voice. “Baby, I love you and I love taking care of you.” And oh, here he gets to see the quiet happiness well in Sangwoo’s eyes, the easing of tension along his brow.

“I want to be there when you’re happy and feeling good but I also want to be there when you feel like shit and not you best. Don’t you want that, too?”

“It’s not fair,” Sangwoo offers weakly, closely his eyes against the onslaught that is a pouting Jaeyoung.

Jaeyoung hums in thought. “What’s not fair, my stubborn boyfriend, is you trying to hide this from me. Do you know how amazing I am at playing nursemaid? You haven’t even tasted my congee!”

Sangwoo leans forward until he can rest his forehead against Jaeyoung’s chest. “I’m probably going to be an ass when I’m sick.”

He feels Jaeyoung laugh before his hands come up to rub soothingly down Sangwoo’s back. It feels amazing, exactly what he’d been imagining over the past few days when he desperately wanted to call Jaeyoung for the comfort only his boyfriend could provide– he feels warm and cared for and it’s so good he feels tears sting his eyes.

Now that he’s caught, he doesn’t really want to argue and belabor his point. No, he knows what he wants– what he’s wanted since he first started coming down with this hellish cold– and he just doesn’t have it in himself to deny him– them both, apparently– of this.

His voice is tired but any remaining tension drains out of him as Sangwoo finally accepts that he does have someone he can lean on and that the person is not only willing but eager to do so.

“Please take care of me, Jaeyoungie-hyung.”

Jaeyoung’s heart stills at the request, soft spoken but aching with want. His chest feels too small to contain this feeling, the sheer desire to care for the man in front of him in any way he needs, in every way he can. “Of course, baby. Of course.”

Jaeyoung kisses the top of Sangwoo’s hair before letting go just to immediately hold his hand. “Let’s go home.”

Over the next three days, Sangwoo’s cold does indeed gets worse. He loses his voice almost completely, his coughing annoying him so much that he can only wonder at how Jaeyoung seems unbothered and he goes through enough tissues that he should’ve bought stock in Kleenex.

Through it all, Jaeyoung takes care of him. That first night, they went back to Sangwoo’s apartment together and while Sangwoo took a shower, Jaeyoung ran to the corner mart to pick up anything he might need, including groceries for his eomma's congee.

When he gets back to the apartment, Sangwoo is in a clean Sweatshirt of Jaeyoung’s and a pair of leggings, hair hanging in his eyes. Jaeyoung urges him to rest on the couch while he sets about making dinner. He hasn’t been sick in a while, though, and so when he gets to step seven he calls his eomma just to make sure he’s making it the best way possible.

His mom is endeared– Jaeyoung has talked extensively about Sangwoo– and Jaeyoung keeps his voice low as he finishes cooking in the kitchen.

Sangwoo actually does cry, just a little, when Jaeyoung wakes him up with a bowl later in the evening. Jaeyoung doesn’t tease, doesn’t show just how he’s melted into a puddle at seeing his boyfriend’s wide eyes upon seeing dinner after his nap, at the way Sangwoo tears up because it’s so good and Jaeyoung is taking care of him so well even though it’s only been two hours and he loves this man so much, he’s so lucky–

Jaeyoung cuts his rambling off with a kiss, looking pleased with himself when he pulls back.

Sangwoo, for his part, is horrified. “You’re going to get sick,” he hisses, covering his mouth, scandalized.

Jaeyoung just shrugs and winks at him. “Guess you’ll have to take care of me, then, huh?”

Sangwoo does his best to glower but it quickly morphs into a sneeze and Jaeyoung laughs softly, way too fucking endeared as Sangwoo just looks like a sad kitten and really, he wonders, the heart can’t be meant to hold all of this feeling.

Most of the weekend is spent with Sangwoo cuddled up to Jaeyoung, resting his absolutely aching head against his boyfriend’s chest and using Jaeyoung as his own space heater. Jaeyoung keeps a strict schedule with the medicine and fluids and they spend the entire weekend watching movies or resting. Jaeyoung, for his part, spends a lot of the time that Sangwoo is asleep watching his boyfriend. It’s a quiet but no less striking contentment.

Even though Sangwoo’s hair is sweaty and Jaeyoung definitely knows he’s going to be sick by this time next week, it’s more than worth it to him. And contrary to Sangwoo’s warning, he’s not an asshole at all– he’s pliant and soft around the edges, clingy in a way Jaeyoung will never admit he loves.

And sure enough, ten days later it’s Sangwoo’s chance to return the favor as Jaeyoung proves to be a dramatic– but not difficult, not at all if you know him, if you love him, if you treasure any and all chance to show him and care for him– patient himself.

[shootingstarrfish]

request: simeon ending a phone call with "Amen" bc itd be so so silly

[theloveinc]

toji and stepson!megumi.. and their inability to say no to the lecherous chubby lady they call wife/mom.

i’d imagine that toji wouldn’t be all that mad when he finds his son in a reverse mating press under you only a few weeks after he came home from college.. the boy drooling out the mouth while you giggle maniacally at the sight.

hell, he’d probably laugh, not sure how someone as studly as himself could produce such a.. a sweetie.

like sure, your stepson has a chiseled body and a cock rivaling his father’s.. but boy does he have such a low threshold for stimulation.

ugh forgive me caitie for i have sinned.. toji holding poor gumi’s hips in place while you fuck yourself on his cock, the both of you cooing at him for being so cute.

(i couldnt produce many more thoughts for this but please feel free to insert)

I think it's more so that you're unable to say no to them, because they're the needy dogs in the house !!

It's not that college was difficult or hard for Megumi ... but getting home to a cute woman who feeds him and does his laundry and watches TV every night grooming the dogs in a muumuu while cozied up to his dad... it makes his balls TIGHT !! that kind of affection, the kind that he didn't realize he was missing his whole life (but esp. while away taking care of yuji and listening to nobara degrade him in the dorms).

As if it it's his fault for being attracted to you, anyway... not when he's half his father and there you are, practically offering yourself up for him the first time you catch him with a morning wood when you came in to make his bed first thing in the morning...

(If anything, Toji probs told you to be soft with the boy in moments like this, warned you he gets all tense and snappy when he hasn't been babied in a while, and there's nothing like watching his father sucking face w/ a pretty woman to make 'gumi all needy for touch, too)

So when you end up reporting back to him that megumi barely lasted a minute with his cock wrapped up in your boobs... he's just giving up hope entirely that his son will ever find a woman on his own and deciding that you, as parents, just have to take care of him yourselves. i mean, you already said it, he's got the looks and parts to back up what you need in the bedroom, as well, esp when Toji is out for long periods making money for you guys--why not spend some time teaching your grumpy lil son how to fuck?

Holding his hips til he cries, showing him how you like your nipples pinched and played with, how to shove someone's head down on a cock, how to take his nose being shoved into your clit...who's to blame you all for getting a bit addicted??

[steddio]

Eddie finding Steve asleep sitting in the kitchen, waiting for the popcorn in the microwave, while the party are playing D&D. Eddie gently waking him up, accidentally letting some of his endearment show when he calls him angel and tells him to go get some sleep, that Eddie got it from here.

(I wrote a short little ficlet for this, I hope that's ok!)

“Alright! Enough!” Eddie tries and fails to be heard over the ruckus of seven teenagers each trying to get out of doing a task.

“Shut up!!!” he finally gets out at a register that demands attention. He is the DM after all, and a part of him preens at the way their startled, open-mouthed faces all turn toward him expectantly.

“I, your benevolent leader, will go refill the snacks,” he offers magnanimously. “While you all,” and this he punctuates with a sweeping gesture, “figure out how you’re going to get out of this dungeon without attracting the attention of Ezrog the Goblin King.”

There’s a new round of squabbling at that, Mike and Dustin convinced that they should take the west stairwell (a trap) while Gareth and Lucas arguing that they should swim out through the underground river (a good idea, Eddie begrudgingly admits).

He grabs the candy wrappers and empty soda cans within his reach and ascends the stairs from the Wheelers’ basement. He follows the scent of popcorn and a profoundly irritating beeping noise to the kitchen where he finds Steve perched on a barstool, slumped over the kitchen counter, fast asleep.

Eddie suddenly feels breathless. He’s never seen Steve so peaceful, so vulnerable. His hair is sticking up at all angles, he’s snoring slightly, and is that— it certainly is, there’s a bit of drool in the corner of his mouth. The permanent furrow between his brows is relaxed in sleep, although the dark circles under his eyes are still noticeable. Eddie knows Steve hasn’t been sleeping well. None of them have, still unable to feel truly safe.

Eddie tiptoes around Steve, careful not to wake him, and finds a cooling bag of popcorn in the microwave. Something clenches in Eddie’s chest. He hadn’t even heard Steve arrive, but here he is preparing snacks, taking care of them like always.

As quietly as possible, he takes the popcorn out of the microwave to stop that infernal beeping (how Steve is able to sleep through it is beyond him) and pours the popcorn into a bowl, grabs a few other things from the cabinet, and organizes them on the counter. He leans over toward Steve, as close as he dares, fingers ghosting over Steve’s hair, his cheek, admiring his long lashes and the freckles that dust his skin. He settles for gently grasping Steve’s shoulder.

“Steve, wake up,” he whispers. Steve mumbles something and then buries his face in the crook of his arm. Eddie can’t stop himself from reaching out and touching Steve’s hair, his heart bursting with fondness.

“Angel, you can’t sleep here, you’ll hurt your back,” he whispers slightly louder. Immediately he realizes what he let slip and waits, frozen, for Steve’s reaction. But Steve just grunts, and doesn’t move.

“Steve, man, c’mon,” Eddie tries again, and this time Steve lifts his head and looks at Eddie blearily.

“Wha-“ he gets out, looking adorably confused.

“You fell asleep in the kitchen,” Eddie can’t help but smile. “Come on, let’s get you over to the couch. You can nap there. The heathens and I still have quite a bit longer in the campaign, plenty of time for you to get some rest.”

Eddie helps (well, more like manhandles) Steve over to the living room couch, thrilling at the way Steve’s body is pressed to his side, loose-limbed and uncareful. Steve drops to the couch and is immediately asleep again, sprawled on his back, looking every bit the teenager he is. Eddie forgets that Steve is only 19, with how much he’s seen and done. But here, at rest, he is young, pure, holy. Eddie’s savior in more ways than one. He grabs a blanket off the armchair and spreads it over Steve, tucking it in on the sides. Stoops down in a semblance of a forehead kiss, just breathing in the scent of Steve’s hair, relishing a stolen moment of closeness.

“Sleep tight, angel.”

-

Three days later, Eddie finds himself in the passenger seat of Steve’s BMW, bickering, as usual, about music. He finds a sick sense of joy in being able to go toe-to-toe against Steve Harrington, King of Hawkins High, even if it’s about something innocuous, like the merits (or complete lack thereof) of Steve’s favorite band.

“Listen, Harrington, listen!” Eddie is getting into it now, feeling himself metaphorically jumping on top of his cafeteria table pedestal. “Wham! is the devil’s music! It’s demonic, only hellspawn can listen to that shit without their ears bleeding.”

Steve glares at him for a brief moment, before his expression fades into a cocky smirk. “Hellspawn?” He meets Eddie’s eyes. “I thought I was an angel.”

[greyeyedmonster-18]

we meet again

(so @arliedraws created a slytherin!sirius universe in which james in an auror and sirius is a death eater (or is he??) and they have unfulfilled homoerotic urges for one another and i...came up with this idea, and it's been in my brain (and @impishtubist's SMS text messages for licherally months). It seemed that arlies most recent day of birth was an appropriate time to drop this. xoxo)

--

James's cheeks hurt from smiling so widely as two first-year aurors brought out a cake, lit with an abundance of candles that shot up into the air spelling out Happy Retirement Auror Potter! To complete the package, the cake was decorated as a tropical lagoon. Crystal blue waters, and yellow sprinkles on top to mimic a sunset. Sending James a final subliminal message to cash in his 30 years of unspent vacation time, aside from a few days here and there, and disappear into the tropics. Off the grid, off radar, off the cases. Officially.

Not that James was one who ever said I cannot wait to retire in passing--because he had loved every moment of his years in the aurors department. His first year in the training program, his first big raid, his promotion to Senior Auror, to Director of the Department and finally in his last year, the ultimate promotion of having the responsibility of training new aurors. He had put in the work, and he could leave the department and rest easy knowing everyone left behind would continue to do faithful and just work for the wizarding world. Including his son, Harry who, after years of telling James no I'm not coming into the department, I don't want to, I'm not following in your footsteps, shove off, Dad and trying a host of obscure occupations just to prove a point (most recently a shop clerk at Florean Flortescue) he finally confessed to James he had applied.

James tried to pretend he wasn't elated. Harry tried to pretend he wasn't equally as excited, both of them concealing smiles on Harry's first day in the department. Keeping it cool as the Potter Men were known to do.

"I can't believe you actually did it," Harry said, as cake was passed around, the retirement party in full swing. James was halfway through his slice, blue frosting magically enchanted to pool around the rim of his plate.

"Did you doubt it?"

"Yes," Harry stressed, alongside Moody and Sturgis Podmore, both chatting within earshot. Harry gave James a pointed look, as if to say see, it's not just me. "I thought you were going to delay it again just last week when you got all weepy about writing the report details for your last training class. 12 pages--"

"It's important to be thorough--"

"And that last one was damp, swear," Harry teased, and James shook his head cutting off another bite of cake.

"Oh, just you wait. You'll be crying at your desk too when the time comes," James told him, teeth tinted blue as he spoke, "and you'll look around and wonder where the time went and wish you could--"

Harry dropped his head to the side, closing his eyes and letting out a small snore, earning a loud laugh from Moody, before pretending to wake up, "Sorry? I must've fallen asleep while you were reminiscing."

"Reflecting," James corrected.

"Much more interested in our vacation--"

"Oh no, you're much too busy," James told him, letting out a low whistle, "I've seen that training curriculum and I don't think you'll have time for much of anything for the next few...years?" James shrugged, "Looks like I'll be seeing Santorini, and Turks and Caicos all by myself. Maybe I'll finally take your advice and," James paused to think for a moment, "What is it you've been telling me? Find--"

James sentence was cut off by the department doors opening, Kingsley Shacklebolt striding in, violet robes trailing behind him, jaw clenched and eyebrows close together. James couldn't help but laugh a little as Harry seemed to straighten up, putting his hands behind his back as the Minister of Magic made his way toward Moody and the other Senior Aurors in the room. James had known Kingsley for years--and by extension, Harry had known Kingsley for years, but everything seemed to shift when Kingsley went from Your Dads Friend with the Cool Tattoos and Earrings, to Minister of Magic and Effectively Your Boss. Harry cleared his throat and gave James a nod, before following the other younger aurors in looking extremely busy around the office. Suddenly papers were all too out of place, and there was much work to be done, when only moments before, they were playing a rousing game of napkin Quidditch.

"Sorry, Potter, this celebration may have to be cut short. Auror Bones just sent a patronus, and that burglary down at Diagon Alley might not be so simple after all," Shacklebolt said, dropping his voice lower, "The owner of the shop confessed to having some...untoward artifacts in the back, and you'll never guess what was taken."

"What kind of artifacts?" James asked.

"You're retired, Potter."

James looked at his watch, "I'm not retired for another two hours, now what kind of artifacts?"

"Reliquaries is how the owner described them. Heirlooms that have been passed down in his family for centuries...which means--"

"Layers of dark magic." Moody mumbled.

"That's not the important piece, I'm afraid," Kingsley continued, "The only reason the owner knew there had been a burglary was because the backdoor was left unlocked. I remember when I was a junior auror here...there was a series of home theft...shop theft...all of them with the back entry way left open and--"

"A note," James cut him off immediately, eyes wide as his heart pounded against his rib cage. He could feel a flush fall over his body, acid rising in his throat.

"Oh no," muttered Moody.

"What did the note say?" James asked again and Kingsley hesitated, sharing a glance with Moody.

"Potter, you're retiring, enjoy your--"

"What did the note say?" James asked again, this time loud enough to catch the attention of other members of the department.

"Finders keepers."

--

James's ears were ringing as he left the auror department, not even pausing after Kingsley had spoken the words on the note. Two single words, and suddenly James couldn't see straight. Couldn't think straight.

Finders keepers, finders keepers, finders keepers.

It didn't matter that James was set to retire in an hour and a half.

It didn't matter he had left a party in his honor. It also didn't matter that his lips were stained blue from cake, or that he had dinner plans with Harry after the party to celebrate, just the two of them. He threw open the door to his office, the walls now barren and the space void of any personal touches, and quickly went toward his filing cabinet.

This case, had been the only one James had be removed from. This case, had been the only one in thirty years that had just been marked closed with no real resolution. A series of home thefts over the course of three months, all seemingly connected, but they came up empty every time, eventually abandoning it. After three months, after James was removed from the case, not a single report.

Every time a burglary had been called in since, James read the file and poured over every detail, hoping for more information. For a reason to reopen the case. But none was ever found. James had the dates memorized. Pulling each report one by one, and opening them to the notes found at each scene.

Finders keepers.

He grabbed the files, shrinking them and shoving them into the pockets of his robes, wand in hand as he left his office once more, closing the door behind him. Moody, and Kingsley were already on their way down the hall, nearly chasing after James, urgency in their footsteps to stop him from doing something stupid.

"Potter!" Moody barked

"Evening, Alastor. I believe I have a party to be getting back to," James said simply, though sweat was dripping down his back, beading on the center of his forehead. He ran a hand through his greying hair, in a way he hoped was nonchalant and not in a way that looked dangerously suspicious.

"Potter, do I need to remind you, you were removed from this case and--"

"I'm retired, w-why in Merlins name would--don't be--no, I-I'm not, and there's no, it's a party! I'm having a great time, have a good night!" James gave them both a wave before resuming his brisk walk-run down the hallway, shoes squeaking on the tile floor, eager to get out of the department

He knew where to go.

He knew he shouldn't be going there.

But.

He had to.

There was a fireplace on the first floor of the Ministry of Magic for floo access. James approached the fireplace, thinking, briefly, that perhaps it was foolish to think that after all this time he might still have access--clearance-- to this location. He grasped a handful of floo powder anyway, closing his eyes as he stepped into the fireplace.

"NUMBER TWELVE GRIMMAULD PLACE!"

--

The sitting room looked exactly as James remembered it.

Sort of.

The curtains had been changed. They were a deep yellow now instead of grey like they were the last time James was here. The carpet had been removed, and James stepped out of the fireplace onto cool hardwood floors.

The pristine black leather couch, and the gaudy chandelier were the same though. So were the end tables, and the armchair in the corner with a hand-embroidered throw pillow. James had laughed at it then, because a crook shouldn't have had something so dainty and delicate so proudly on display in their home. So distracted by the decor, the once familiar smells and sounds of Number 12, he didn't notice the man in the doorway.

"I have to admit, Potter, this is quite the surprise."

James jumped, hand immediately grasping the wand on the inside of his robes, attention turning toward the man in the doorway. Dress shirt rolled up to his elbows, not quite tucked into his trousers; dark hair cut shorter than the last time James saw him. 20 years ago. He was wearing house slippers, which shouldn't have been odd, considering they were indoors and among other names James could've called him, Sirius Black was far from a barbarian, and knew better than to wear shoes around the house. But the slippers were fur lined. And James had to stop the corners of his mouth from grinning--just as they had at the pillow.

All at once, James was in his thirties again. Not his fifties.

And he was staring at Sirius Black. Tall, dark, irritating, criminal , Sirius Black. Thoughts racing, with absolutely nothing to say. Tongue swollen in his mouth.

"I could have you arrested," Sirius remarked casually, tilting his head to the side. "I believe this is what people in your line of work call trespassing, isn't it?"

"Your floo let me in," James responded, sounding much younger, and much more petulant than he intended. It was always that way around Sirius. James had thought that years as an auror would put him in a better position to deal with Sirius Black and his quick tongue. That this time he would be ready, and James would be able to respond with ease and not stare and stammer as he did in the past.

He was wrong.

"Ah, so this is just poor manners? Or did I forget the moment I invited you to my home? Did we have dinner plans?"

"Well, no but--"

"No to poor manners? Or no I didn't forget?"

James rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, "We didn't have plans, Black. I'm not here for a chat--"

"But we have so much to catch up on. It's been ages-- how's your son?"

"Cut the shit, Black. I know you were behind the burglary down in Diagon Alley."

Sirius gasped, pressing his hand to his chest, looking surprised and affronted by James's accusation, "Me? But I've been at home all day. Baking. Would you like a slice of rhubarb, Potter?" Sirius gestured with his head, turning around to walk back through the doorway and down the hall of Grimmauld Place.

James followed.

"Well, don't stand there, you can have a seat. Make yourself at home," Sirius gestured to the kitchen table. Fresh flowers in the center. James took a seat, watching as Sirius waved his wand to begin slicing a pie on the counter, all the while smirking at James with his arms folded across his chest. "Do you still take your tea with cream?"

"No!" James objected, "I mean, I do but don't offer me tea, I'm here--"

"Yes, yes, very official auror business, I remember. Just because you have poor manners and show up unannounced to people's homes--"

"I don't!"

"--doesn't mean that I do, and you're a guest in my home, so I am going to offer you tea. Do you still take it with cream?"

"Yes...thank you," James said, watching as Sirius poured two cups of tea, sending them over to the table, along with the pie before joining James.

Black still had that same damn smile. Not a grey hair in sight, though had more creases under his eyes.

"Thank you," James repeated, looking down at the pie in front of him, something clicking in his brain. "Why...why do you have this pie?"

Sirius smiled slowly. "Why not?"

"Why do you have a rhubarb pie, Black?"

"Well, since you asked. A little birdie told me you were retiring from the auror department and...I just thought I'd...prepare for the occasion. It's your favorite, isn't it?"

[pokimoko]

Ya kno I've seen your pride animals quite a few times now, initially I wasn't thinking about requesting but I'm very interested now!

Please show me a panromantic asexual Lykoi?

Thanks for your time 🙏

You may of course see a lykoi. Here ya go!

[waifujuju]

What pokemon would Sol and Lune be? Inspired by an oc comic by @ambisweetiepie

[ebenezerboozoo]

Hello fellow Eugene-Lovers, I come bearing gifts

Riley (The Human) is the Self-Insert of @anotheroneofthegaysharks and Franklin (The Fish) is the OC of @lapinibernatus !!!

[wraenata]

Happy Birthday Helli!

Happy birthday Helli!!! I am so glad to call you my friend. You are such a bright and friendly light in the fandom and your art is amazing. And we all love your boy Pico <3

I hope you have an amazing year! You deserve it!

@hellishgayliath

[thatdeadaquarius]

Sobbing and crying just saw your post of us sounding like a Sim, and I am DYING.

What if it went the other way? They can understand us, but we can't understand them!

Us : hey so what the fuck is happening why tf am I in genshin impact

Them : OMG ASKSKSKSKS FEDERRRALL MEERKK TREEESO! (Omg it's the divine God I'm shittinh myself oml) or whatever idk)

Us: excuse me what the fuck did you just say about my mother? (US mishearing or maybe the words are randomized? Who knows)

Everyone just being confused and frustrated on why you can't understand them. Is it because they aren't worshipping you enough? Maybe some friendship level BS where obly those who are lvl 10 can understand u or smth? Who knows, certainly not the Creator.

I highkey am thinking about writing smth for this now but having it be for like each archons reaction or smthin but who knows. I just wanna see a bunch of divine beings confused outta their mind in like whatever cities square and it turning into a "holy game of charades"

Also happy early birthday ajdjdjkdkdkdk

I”M SO LATE SO THANK YOU FOR THE BDAY WISHES LMAO SORRY KARMA MY BELOVED

AHHHHH U INSPIRED ME BY THE ARCHONS HOLY GAME OF CHARADES-

AND OH NO LVL 10 ONLY FRIENDSHIP UNDERSTANDING-

(づ ￣ ³￣)づ here have a hug for your patience- sorry karma!! :')

LMAO this inuyasha gif- obviously everyone else guessing what ur doing and the 2 others r like ppl like Venti or Kaeya who r just fucking with ppl by joining you lol

OK BUT WHO DO U HAVE LVL 10 FRIENDSHIP?!

BC I GOT NOBODY 😭

ITS RLLY HARD TO DO OKAY-

I HAVE TO PUT ACTUAL EFFORT INTO THE FEW THAT ARE LEVEL 4-5 

ID BE SO FUCKED-

Oh no.

Oh god (you??) no.

What if you had the highest friendship with little d**ks like Scaramouche.

noooOOOOOO

He’d be like, “Eh, I don’t feel like translating today.” 💀

Also I’m rolling with the idea that 

perfect understanding = lvl 10,

Most words 7-9

Some words 5-6

Kinda ?? they get 2 words per sentence or smth 3-4

Basically nothing 1-2

◇

Anyway ornery bitches like Scara/Xiao/Alhaitham/Rosaria/Diluc (all for diff reasons like diluc/xiao would just be overwhelmed and dont like ppl that much lol, whereas haitham doesnt give a fuck lmao) would kinda suck to have as translators

OH NOT THE PEOPLE WHO WOULD JUST LIE ABOUT WHAT U SAID ON PURPOSE TO DECEIVE THE MASSES LIKE Heizou/Yae Miko/Kaeya/Venti 

They pull something like “oh well the god of gods said I could have the last slice of cake/an extra glass of wine hehe”

For different reasons these people would also be ROUGH translators: FISCHL OH NO- , Zhongli, Albedo (he simply would omit “unnecessary details”, cyno, ITTO PLEASE, Raiden (puppet) bc shed take stuff too far/too literally u would never be able to communicate jokes, Razor (im sorry bbyboy), Shenhe

THE CHARADDEEESSS

THE CHARADES OF THE GODS 

You may or may not get another title of a jokester god bc of these SILLY charades 💀

The people u have higher levels of friendship with giving hints LMAO

♤

“Uhhh….. Oh! Oh! Greatest Lord wishes to see a dance performance!” 

Nahida’s sweet voice rings out in Yujing Terrace, her tiny hand waving in the air like an elementary student who’s really excited to answer. …Which isn’t that far off honestly.

“Hmm, I disagree Buer, I believe the Hundun Emperor is saying they wish to take a bath perhaps. I am also attempting to use context, as it has been a long day for them.” Zhongli is in his classic “majestic thinking gentleman” pose, and you’d admire it more if it weren’t for the fact that they don’t seem to be getting what you’re saying.

You hadn’t yet found someone with a higher friendship level than 2 or 3 (hey, don’t blame yourself, you really have to put effort into friendship levels to get them anywhere and you were still busy screwing around in Sumeru when you got spirited away).

So needless to say, most people were getting “the, me, I, you, etc.” rather than the actual important keywords you needed them to, hence the godly charade game now.

As you “hold” something, you throw your hands up in the air, still keeping your hands wrapped around nothing. You think if somebody told you last week that you’d be playing charades with the archons in Genshin Impact so you could actually communicate with them… well you don’t know what you would have done. Maybe just gave them a really awkward laugh.

“Oh! Are you asking for a weapon? Akitsu Mikami, my emperor, we or our nations will surely provide protection from any harm that might befall you. Hm, I suppose we should offer something anyway… I wouldn’t want to displease them…” Ei mutters to herself, having taken over her puppet once more for the occasion.

She and Buer, still retaining their authority status, had asked for the area to be cleared in order to try and get closer to communicating with the Divine First, or you.

“Ha! What idiot would try to hurt the All-Parent in their home, unless they wish to get thrown?” Venti cheekily says, as you don’t understand him, but judging by Zhongli’s clenched jaw, Ei’s sigh, and Nahida’s giggle, you can guess.

You give your own sad sigh… it’s already been 3 hours. 😭

How hard is charades for 4 archons??

Well… apparently very hard.

You put your face in your hands, and you hear the (retired) archons start to debate something, you can tell it’s getting a little passive-aggressive between Venti and Zhongli by their tone alone. 

…Okay, now it’s just aggressive.

The archons eventually give their attention back to you so you can go back to your charades lol

You tried opening your mouth and closing it, very obvious, they can’t go wrong. 

…Turns out they can. 

Somehow you find yourself with a hot tea brewed by the geo archon. 

(Venti attempted to offer you Dandelion Wine, or Osmanthus Wine even, and only god, well you now, knows where he pulled them from. Ei swatted his head, he looked so offended, and his cheeks were all puffed up, heh.)

Giving up, you just try to motion for them to stay still, your hands gesturing like trying to calm a wild animal.

They give you questioning looks, and you begin to walk off, they all seem to immediately start discussing something with each other. All of the gods look very conflicted, and after a minute of you getting further away (yes, you’re almost home free, Xiangling here you come! ) Nahida skips to catch up with you.

She gives you a beaming smile, and you can’t bring yourself to not return it. She's so much cuter in real life, even the official art didn't do her justice.

You make your way towards the restaurant, finally.

And apparently you’re happier than you thought to smell the savory scents flowing out of the kitchen because your stomach growls loudly.

You’re too hungry to even attempt to stop it, no one will care, except Nahida’s eyes go wide. She begins to sputter, and flail her hands desperately trying to charade an apology at you.

…you were just trying to tell them you were hungry. 💀

☆

Ask box open again! :] 🎊

Pspspspspssubliminalmessagingyouwillsendthatdeadaquariusanaskpssppspspspspssss

✨️Hope you guys got smth out of this rough draft✨️ ♡

:D hope u guys have had a good weekend!

My senior art exhibit is april 6th so wish me luck and prayers (from any religion im not picky pls)

Safe Travels,

💀♒️

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist

[keylovesstuff]

Ok so @tiny-prom and @casual-derg 's Player One Luigi AUs has had in a chokehold for a minute and I had to write a little thing for Villainess Peach....cause I love her 👌🏾👌🏾👌🏾 and this little Idea has been on brain for a minute.

The final Hammer bro clutched its right arm and its trembling legs ultimately gave out collapsing on the ground. Struggling to maintain consciousness, it summoned what little strength was left to glance from the red boot to her blue.

"You ..won't get away... with this...Luigi…He'll stop you like always," it stammered out every word.

Princess Peach snorted with glee reverting her wand back to its battle axed state. She gave it a smirk and then her back before making her way to the throne room.

"Tell him I look forward to it." She said confidently.

Opening the doors to the chamber, as expected, she was met with an empty, bigger throne and a much smaller one beside it. Bowser made storming the place way too easy sometimes between leaving these goons he called as a defense and following his daily routine to a T. She might as well make herself comfortable for a bit, seeing as he wouldn't be back from his morning stroll for another hour. This Kingdom's so-called heroes must be out as well, seeing as no one came to the aid of the soldiers earlier. It was a special day, however, so it made some sense why they weren't around, she thought as she readjusted herself on the bigger throne. No more than ten minutes later did she hear the sound of footsteps approach the chamber, and in front of the opened door appeared her pride and joy.

"Dad, were you guys training the army again? I think you all went a little overboard." The prince commented in the direction of several laid out soldiers before letting out a surprise gasp."Mama Peach, " he yelled in excitement, running towards and jumping into her open arms as she stood up.

"Surprise," she said, pulling the koopaling into a tighter embrace. "Didn't I promise I'd come see you on your birthday?" She reminded him, smiling when she felt him nod in her neck.

"Thank you. Oh, Mama, " he pulled away to look at her."Were you the one who did that to everyone in the hallway? You should go easier on them next time, " Junior advised, looking back at the area once more.

"If I hold back, they'll never get stronger now, will they?" She asked, placing him down on the floor, giving him another smile as he sort of agreed. "I tell your dad that all the time, but I guess he's become rather complacent with those guys always around. Yes." Peach stated it as a fact more than a question.

"Luigi and Mario" The prince felt the need to clarify their names as he would always do. "They're the best fighters in the whole wide world," he praised, and she had to stop herself from outwardly grimacing.

"Yeah? Do you think they're even better than Mama?" She asked and giggled when he immediately went silent as he seemed to be thinking about it hard.

"Hmm, I can't decide who would win in a fight between you guys. Maybe a tie?" He concluded, not reaching a clear answer nor wanting to give it any more thought.

"A tie, huh? I'm glad you think so, son. " The Princess struggled a bit to maintain the calm and sweet demeanor in the presence of her child as she said that. It took her a few seconds to push the images of her losses to them into the back of her mind. "Well, you know mommy's can do anything, right? Even beat the best fighters in the world, " she told him, kneeling down to his eye level, and he nodded again.

The outcome would be different this time. Peach just knew that what she had planned would put an end to those guys once and for all. With them out of her way, Bowser would have no choice but to give into her demands. Finally, she would be able to raise her child how she wanted so that he could serve his purpose for the people. Letting her thoughts get ahead of her, she could feel a laugh undignified for a lady creeping up. Glancing at the clock, it appeared she only had about twenty minutes left till his Majesty would return if word hadn't reached him already about what went on not too long ago. If she didn't want her plans thwarted before having a chance to execute it, then it was probably best to get a move on.

"Junior, how about we -" she started and gasped, looking in every direction as if he had just vanished in thin air from where he was seconds ago. Switching from panic mode real quick, she once again reverted the battle axe to her wand mode just in case she ran into some minions daring to challenge her should they regain consciousness along her way.

Just as expected, Junior was in his mess of a room. Toys, crumpled up pieces of paper, bandana's, and art materials were scattered all over the floor while he was in the closet desperately searching for something. All she heard from him were "no's' ' , "not that", "how did this get in here" and saw the items being tossed out one after the other, She was starting to get antsy at Bowser returning and with those guys as well.

"Honey you shouldn't walk away when mama's deep in thought it's a little rude" she lectured "Oh but we simply must get going, I have a bunch of festivities planned for you back at the mushroom kingdom" Peach told him walking up to him at the closet.

"Found it!" He yelled in triumph, showing her a piece of paper with a drawing on it. Ignoring what she had just said, he pulled her arm so she'd lean down to look closer at the picture as he pointed to each figure. "That's Dad watching everyone from his seat, and that's Papa Luigi with huge muscles showing off his cool hammer. Right here, Kammy's fussing at Mario about something, I think he called her a funny name or something. Finally, me and you are over here holding hands and smiling. Do you like it?" He finished.

Peach focused on the image of the two of them for a little minute. She couldn't put a finger on it, but something was a little off about it. Then she caught it.

"Oh, what's that little thing on your head here?" She pointed to the picture of himself.

"That's your crown, can't you tell? You're not wearing it in the picture cause it's on me, " He told her as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "It reminds me of you since I don't see you all the time. At least on paper, I get to wear it just like you, Mama. Do you like it?" He repeated his question.

It took everything she had to hold back the tears of joy pricking at the corners of her eye. A son should never see his mother break down crying even if it is the happy sort. Winning the fight against her emotions, she took a deep breath before answering him.

"I love it. I'm happy to know you want to be just like mama sometimes. " She finished and started standing up before Juniors voice caught her attention midstand.

"You can have it. So whenever you miss me, you can look at the picture. " he handed it to her.

Peach held onto the paper with great care not to crease any of the already existing creases. Even with the addition of the four extra figures, Junior's art was perfect. So perfect, the thought of desecrating the portrait by cutting out the extra people as soon as she was alone with it exited her mind as soon as it entered. Yes, they could stay in pictured form she figured it'd be a good source to turn to should he find it difficult to produce some tears. Again, this plan is full proof, so he'd need many things to help him for the future.

"You're the sweetest." she placed her hand on top of his red hair and rubbed it softly. "But Mama's supposed to give you presents on your birthday." With a giggle, she stood up and reached for his hand. The boy took it, and she led him out of the room.

They walked a little ways outside the castle to the pipe she entered from. All while she promised him the best birthday cake and gifts he could dream of. The best part, though she reminded him, was that he was spending this special day with his mama.

[horrornvnfan]

To Need Another Person

I wrote yet another Restart Heart Fanfic! This is a sequel to The First Night, and takes place on the morning of Day 2 of the game. This is starring my MC, Maria Dust, and Ezra and Steph.

This fic is a re-write two scenes from the game put together, so canon lines/events/actions are used here or have been edited to fit the characterization of Maria Dust, but credit must go to the original. Please check out Restart Heart and support the dev here @restartheartvn, the game and the story are really amazing!

If you're interested in Maria in the context of this game, click here.

————————————————————————

You woke up to Ezra's limbs intertwined with yours. And the sound of vibration.

Reluctantly, you open your eyes. Your body felt so sore you thought you were going to crumble into pieces. You feel like that was an injustice, considering all the nonsense you were already going to have to go through from here on out, with cancelling an entire wedding and dealing with your family.

At least you got to experience some kindness yesterday. Ezra, Sammy, and Blaire's trip to the cafe and beach was more pleasant than you expected, considering your emotional state and your status of just being their acquaintance at the time. And then last night, with Ezra… he was so understanding. He even made you laugh.

You were grateful for it. But now that you were awake, there was no slipping back into a comfortable sleep with Ezra by your side.

You tried to move only to get a groan of displeasure from Ezra. He did not want you to leave and in the moment he reminded you of a cat. He grumbled, "Your phone has been going off for the past like, 10 minutes."

You blushed hard as you heard his voice in your ear, deep and mildly annoyed. His voice was normally pretty deep, but this was just insane. And you don't know why you didn't expect it to sound so close. You were cuddling.

Maybe you should stop cuddling. Act cool, for a change.

"How much has it been going off?" You ask as you carefully attempt to wriggle away.

Before he could respond, your phone started buzzing again. You let out a soft groan and reached over to grab the vibrating device. It was a text from Steph. Unusual. You opened the notification to see what the fuss was about.

Steph: [I'm outside, open the door in 10 seconds or I'm breaking it down.]

"Oh, it's just Steph," You yawned. "They're outside."

The gears in your head, previously turning painfully slow in your tiredness, sped up tenfold. Both you and Ezra jolt up and look at each other awkwardly. You couldn't help but stare at Ezra for a moment before quickly jumping out of bed, only for your legs to falter momentarily. What happened to your plan to act cool?

Before you could fall like a tragic baby deer, Ezra's arms shot out and caught you. An oddly tender moment passed as they looked at you a warm blush dusting their cheeks. However, the banging on your front door took precedence.

Embarrassed, you flung yourself from Ezra's hold, and shouted, "STEPH! Stop it! Give me a minute!"

You fumbled out of the bedroom, Ezra trailing behind, and as you swung the door open, still in pajamas and your hair a mess, you came face to face with Steph, who stared at you in disapproval.

"Why the fuck didn't you answer your phone??" They demanded, more cross than you expected.

"I just woke up!"

"And who is that?" Steph glared past you, somehow offended by Ezra's presence in your apartment.

Before you could turn around to introduce them, you felt Ezra gently place his hand on your shoulder. "I'm Ezra, I kept sugarsnap company last night."

You were about to turn to Ezra to nod in confirmation and continue the introductions, but Steph's reaction right in front of you kept you from looking back. They were shifting uncomfortably. And it was strange. Steph was practically never intimidated or made uncomfortable by someone else.

Feeling awkward, you gently nudged Ezra out of the way and stepped aside. "Come inside! I'm sorry for not waking up earlier, y'know how it is."

Steph nodded absentmindedly as they stepped into your apartment. For a moment you just stared at them, the fogginess of sleep and the sudden adrenaline of running out of bed starting to wear off. Steph was here. In your apartment. After what felt like ages of ignoring you or being too busy to even text. Your heart felt tight. And with Ezra here as well, already having comforted you last night over completely different emotional issues, you felt painfully awkward.

Steph wasn't looking at you when they said, "Yeah… did you mean to leave your window open?"

"Huh?" You followed Steph's gaze to your open living room window. "Oh! No, my roommate, Chris, usually leaves our windows open. No idea why, never got the chance to ask." You quickly moved to the window to slide it closed. "I wish he wouldn't, though. I know most bugs are dead or gone this time of year, but I really don't need to risk an infestation right now."

Steph turned back to you and smiled nervously. "Well, how are you feeling? You didn't text me much so I thought you might have… had a bad reaction to what happened."

You didn't like how they said that. You did text them yesterday. You called them multiple times the night of the party, when you were drunk and crying and Chris had to get you home. And now Steph was being vague?

Ezra spoke then. "No need to beat around the bush, I know what he did."

Oh. Right, Ezra being here was why Steph wasn't being direct. There wasn't another reason, like Steph not caring. You needed to stay calm. Steph was here.

And you could see Steph's growing discomfort. "Can I talk to you alone, Maria?"

"Yes," You said too quickly. Sheepish, you smiled at Ezra. "Ezra, Steph and I will be in my room for a bit. You can make yourself comfortable, or eat anything in the fridge."

Steph grabbed your hand and hurried you into your room as Ezra watched.

You felt tumultuous. Steph was here, and that was so important to you. You'd missed Steph so much for so long, and finally, they were here. You needed them. You had no idea how to say it. How to not burden them or make them want to distance themselves from you again. But this was a good first step, you could ask Steph to grab dinner with you, or watch a movie, just a time where you could talk, and--

Steph was scowling at you. You froze, surprised. You'd gotten into your head a bit for a second there, but why were they upset? Steph stared at you incredulously. "Are you serious, Maria?"

"I-- What? What do you mean?"

"While I get what happened really fucking sucked, what the hell was that?" They were pissed at you. "A fucking stranger? Really?"

Shit. You completely forgot about how this would look to Steph, having Ezra spend the night. Your body felt cold, and you gripped your arm tightly. "Ezra isn't a stranger. We're friends now. And we didn't have sex. They just sleptover."

You glare at the ground for a bit, resentment bubbling in your gut. Why did Steph accuse you of that? It's not like you, and they know it. And it wouldn't be fair of them to be angry if you did sleep with Ezra anyways. Your sex life was not their business. "What does it matter?" You continue. "It's not like you were here. You decided that work was more important than my wedding shower."

"Are you KIDDING me?!" Steph scoffed at you, causing your gaze to meet theirs. It was a bit of a low blow, and you knew it. Steph's schedule had always been a point of contention with them, but you were mad. And you were hurt.

They said, "You know I would've rather been there than at work, but I can't exactly quit my job for a fucking party, Maria!"

"It's not just a fucking party," You said through a clenched jaw. "It was one of the most important events in my life and you couldn't take off a single day."

"Well, I'm here now, aren't I?" Steph countered flippantly.

Your face was getting hot, and your impulse control was dropping. So you asked them something you'd wanted to know for months. "Steph, why did you never RSVP to my wedding?"

A deafening silence fell over the room. They were still displeased with you, but there was a new emotion there now. They hesitating. "Do you really want to know?"

"Yes."

Steph's unwavering gaze made you squirm a bit. "Alright. I didn't RSVP because… I didn't want you to marry Kenneth."

Your mind went blank, astonishment temporarily replacing your anger and pain.

They went on. "In fact, I hate Kenneth. Even before all of this shit came to light."

"What?" Your mind was racing. They hate Kenneth? Since when? College? High school? Not younger, couldn't be before then, not for all this time. How could they be saying such earth-shaterring things so blandly, like it was something casual?

They said, "I know that if I came to your wedding, I would not be able to stop myself. So I decided, for your sake and your happiness, to not go."

You rasped a question. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I did."

"No." You said so harshly that Steph took a step back. "No, you really fucking didn't, Steph. You were always supportive. I can't think of a single time that you didn't support this marriage. You even helped him pay for an engagement ring!"

"Yeah, because he couldn't even remember your favorite fucking color, Maria!" Steph snapped defensively. "He didn't know what kind of jewelry you liked, and just assumed the gaudiest, most expensive thing would work! He thought you wanted all this extravagant, outlandish, and down right stupid stuff for the proposal."

Steph went on, unloading their feelings as if they'd been holding in a secret and were relieved to breathe again. "I helped him so much because I didn't want you to be sad. I didn't want him to fucking fail. Yet even with all that fucking help I gave him he still went and got your little sister pregnant."

Your heart was hammering. You couldn't hear much else besides the blood roaring in your ears. Steph showed up two days late after your life was ruined. Steph had scolded you for finding company in someone else when you were vulnerable. Steph had been avoiding you for months. Steph never even thought you should marry Kenneth to begin with. And now Steph was talking like that fact was their burden all this time.

Your voice came out strangely calm, teetering on the edge of fury, when you asked, "You know I was with someone who couldn't even remember my favorite color, and you just let me stay with them?"

It was like something clicked in Steph's head, and they faltered. "I just… I--"

The steadiness of your voice wavered only slightly, still holding back to bulk of your anger. "No, you knew how little he cared and you just let things stay that way? You let me stay with him?"

"Maria, I--"

Unable to hold back any longer, you shouted, "You didn't think to say, 'hey Maria! In case you were doubting the biggest decision of your life, here's proof that you're not crazy! You really ARE going to be miserable if you marry him because Kenneth doesn't give two shits about you!'"

Steph's eyes were wide, and they almost looked hurt. "You thought you were going to be miserable?"

"Of course I thought that!" You snapped. "I never asked for this marriage! I was doing it for my family!"

Steph definitely looked hurt now. You didn't know if they were guilty or if they pitied you, but it didn't matter. You were so, so angry. And you couldn't stop yourself from crying as you ranted on. "You are my best friend! I listen to you more than anyone! I would've heard you out of you just TALKED to me! Instead, what, you shut me out entirely because you thought I was an idiot for marrying a man like that?!"

"No, Maria--"

"Or maybe it IS all my fault!" You were hysterical. "Maybe I should've tried even harder to talk to you, and to stop the marriage sooner! But you're just pretending like you care when I called you the night it happened, and when I texted you yesterday morning and night, to no response."

A long silence went on after that. You weren't looking at Steph. You couldn't. You furiously rubbed at your face to force yourself to stop crying.

Distantly, almost monotonously, you heard Steph say, "It's my job to care about you. And I do. It's not pretending, Maria."

Bitterly, and uncaring if Steph heard you or not, you muttered, "You've done a poor job of it lately."

You heard a strained intake of air, and knew that you had hurt Steph saying that. Maybe it was deserved. Maybe it wasn't. Maybe you were both huge fuck-ups who needed each other, and maybe you needed to be apart. You couldn't entertain any possibility right now. You could already feel your overwhelming emotions starting to shut you down. With your face still covered by your hands and sleeves, you could vaguely see Steph's shadow on the floor, and that they were reaching out for you, but stopping just before contact.

"I'm sorry." They said quietly, and you saw their shadow move away. The floorboard creaked as they got close to your door. "You have my number if you need me."

You listened as they left your room. You listened as the front door clicked open and shut. And you crumpled onto the floor of your room.

You held yourself tightly as silent cries wracked you, willing the pressure to be enough to calm down already. You always hated crying, feeling so helplessly out of control. You didn't know why you yelled at Steph like that. You shouldn't have. You said way too much. You didn't say nearly enough. But you were so frustrated with everything, and so hurt, you couldn't stop yourself.

Hot tears streamed down your face as soft footsteps drew near. Deliriously, you thought it was Steph, but as warm arms enveloped you into a hug, you recognized instantly that you were wrong.

Fucking hell Maria, you actually forgot that Ezra was here. That's another tally for you being a rotten friend. Still, you let yourself settle into their embrace and let out a soft sob. Here they were, comforting you yet again, when you didn't really deserve it. Their body was warm, their hug gentle yet firm enough to help you feel a semblance of security. You needed to push down your shame for now, and focus on your breathing.

Ezra's voice was muffled against you as they said, "It'll be okay, sugarcube."

They let you cry for a while, before moving their hands to cup your face and look at you. You flinched at the sudden touch, and while they paused, they didn't move away, holding you so lovingly -- if you could even use such a word -- that it was almost cruel. With their thumbs, they wiped your tears, and your body relaxed further, very unused to such contact, but unwilling to reject how soothing it felt.

Once again, you had far too much you needed to say, and far too few words to do it. You let out a sad sigh. "Ezra…?"

"Yes, sweetness?"

"I'm sorry if this--"

"No. Don't apologize. I know what you're going to say. 'I'm sorry if this is a lot to handle since we hardly know each other.'" Ezra's hands moved down to your arms, rubbing softly, and they leaned foward to press a small kiss onto your forehead, making you jolt with surprise. Ezra leaned away again and stared into your eyes with a kind smile. "Please don't fret too much about them. You texted them and they never responded… What kind of friend does that?"

Your face fell and you looked away from their gaze. You didn't want to talk about Steph right now.

Ezra carried on. "I'll be here for you whenever you need me, okay?"

You nodded silently as Ezra helped you into a stand, before pulling you into another hug. Distantly, you wondered if maybe it would be fine to rely on Ezra a little more. They had been nothing but patient and genuine with you, supporting you through chaos despite not knowing you well at all. And their hugs were nice, so unlike physical touch with other people you don't know well. Maybe… Maybe it would be okay.

You suddenly felt a gentle bite on your shoulder, and you let out a surprised yelp, reeling back with a bewildered expression.

Ezra who gave you a playful smile. "Sorry, you're just really cute…"

Baffled, you said, "I'm cute enough to chomp??"

Ezra gave a short laugh and buried their face into your neck, squeezing you tighter. "Yeah. You are." Their face felt warm against your skin. Were they… blushing?

Before you could ponder this interaction further, you heard a phone buzz, and Ezra pulled away from you. You watched as Ezra pulled his phone out of his pocket and began reading the notification, then he re-read it. Their face fell, and he stood up suddenly. "Sugarsnap I am so sorry, but I really have to go. Eliana -- my little sister -- needs me."

Before you could say anything or even stand up, Ezra grabbed his stuff and was already halfway out your front door. However, he quickly gave you a tightlipped smile as he shut your apartment door behind him.

You sat on the floor in stunned silence, bizarrely calm again, with streaks of dried tears on your face, wild hair, and a terribly hoarse throat.

What on Earth were you going to do today?

[gentlebeard]

We found love right where we are.

For anon

Show: Our Flag Means Death - Season 1 Music: Thinking Out Loud by Ed Sheeran

[q-isthebestletter]

@mellowbird9 your ideas were so fun!!

[marmotish]

Hugs! Maybe 12 or 34! If it isn't awkward could it be with my MC Indigo, I just think two tall scots with curious hair colors would probably get along 🙈 Or any character you prefer xD

79 Hugs

Hug 26/79

34. Hug to prevent a fight

pre-match trash talk takes a wrong turn when one of the Gryffindors crosses the line in making fun of Freyja’s teammates.

(hug prompts)

[visionkept]

At least he agreed to stay for dinner. Tomoya supporting @chiheru‘s puppy crush ( ft. @satorukojima​ ).