#and makes one wonder about some things like whether something is escaping me or if really that's the state of things out there

[fragmentedblade]

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[insertdisc5]

🎮 HEY I WANNA MAKE A GAME! 🎮

Yeah I getcha. I was once like you. Pure and naive. Great news. I AM STILL PURE AND NAIVE, GAME DEV IS FUN! But where to start?

To start, here are a couple of entry level softwares you can use! source: I just made a game called In Stars and Time and people are asking me how to start making vidy gaems. Now, without further ado:

SOFTWARES AND ENGINES FOR PEOPLE WHO DON'T KNOW HOW TO CODE!!!

Ren'py (and also a link to it if you click here do it): THE visual novel software. Comic artists, look no further ✨Pros: It's free! It's simple! It has great documentation! It has a bunch of plugins and UI stuff and assets for you to buy! It can be used even if you have LITERALLY no programming experience! (You'll just need to read the doc a bunch) You can also port your game to a BUNCH of consoles! ✨Cons: None really <3 Some games to look at: Doki Doki Literature Club, Bad End Theater, Butterfly Soup

Twine: Great for text-based games! GREAT FOR WRITERS WHO DONT WANNA DRAW!!!!!!!!! (but you can draw if you want) ✨Pros: It's free! It's simple! It's versatile! It has great documentation! It can be used even if you have LITERALLY no programming experience! (You'll just need to read the doc a bunch) ✨Cons: You can add pictures, but it's a pain. Some games to look at: The Uncle Who Works For Nintendo, Queers In love At The End of The World, Escape Velocity

Bitsy: Little topdown games! ✨Pros: It's free! It's simple! It's (somewhat) intuitive! It has great documentation! It can be used even if you have LITERALLY no programming experience! You can make everything in it, from text to sprites to code! Those games sure are small! ✨Cons: Those games sure are small. This is to make THE simplest game. Barely any animation for your sprites, can barely fit a line of text in there. But honestly, the restrictions are refreshing! Some games to look at: honestly I haven't played that many bitsy games because i am a fake gamer. The picture above is from Under A Star Called Sun though and that looks so pretty

RPGMaker: To make RPGs! LIKE ME!!!!! NOTE: I recommend getting the latest version if you can, but all have their pros and cons. You can get a better idea by looking at this post. ✨Pros: Literally everything you need to make an RPG. Has a tutorial inside the software itself that will teach you the basics. Pretty simple to understand, even if you have no coding experience! Also I made a post helping you out with RPGMaker right here! ✨Cons: Some stuff can be hard to figure out. Also, the latest version is expensive. Get it on sale! Some games to look at: Yume Nikki, Hylics, In Stars and Time (hehe. I made it)

engine.lol: collage worlds! it is relatively new so I don't know much about it, but it seems fascinating. picture is from Garden! NOTE: There's a bunch of smaller engines to find out there. Just yesterday I found out there's an Idle Game Maker made by the Cookie Clicker creator. Isn't life wonderful?

✨more advice under the cut. this is Long ok✨

ENGINES I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT AND THEY SEEM HARD BUT ALSO GIVE IT A TRY I GUESS!!!! :

Unity and Unreal: I don't know anything about those! That looks hard to learn! But indie devs use them! It seems expensive! Follow your dreams though! Don't ask me how!

GameMaker: Wuh I just don't know anything about it either! I just know it's now free if your game is non-commercial (aka, you're not selling it), and Undertale was made on it! It seems good! You probably need some coding experience though!!!

Godot: Man I know even less about this one. Heard good things though!

BUNCHA RANDOM ADVICE!!!!

-Make something small first! Try making simple: a character is in a room, and exits the room. The character can look around, decide to take an item with them, can leave, and maybe the door is locked and you have to find the key. Figuring out how to code something like that, whether it is as a fully text-based game or as an RPGMaker map, should be a good start to figure out how your software of choice works!

-After that, if you have an idea, try first to make the simplest version of that idea. For my timeloop RPG, my simplest version was two rooms: first room you can walk in, second room with the King, where a cutscene automatically plays and the battle starts, you immediately die, and loop back to the first room, with the text from this point on reflecting this change. I think I also added a loop counter. This helped me figure out the most important thing: Can This Game Be Made? After that, the rest is just fun stuff. So if you want to make a dating sim, try and figure out how to add choices, and how to have affection points go up and down depending on your choices! If you want to make a platformer, figure out how to make your character move and jump and how to create a simple level! If you just want to make a kinetic visual novel with no choices, figure out how to add text, and how to add portraits! You'll be surprised at how powerful you'll feel after having figured even those simple things out.

-If you have a programming problem or just get confused, never underestimate the power of asking Google! You most likely won't be the only person asking this question, and you will learn some useful tips! If you are powerful enough, you can even… Ask people??? On forums??? Not me though.

-Yeah I know you probably want to make Your Big Idea RIGHT NOW but please. Make a smaller prototype first. You need to get that experience. Trust me.

-If you are not a womanthing of many skills like me, you might realize you need help. Maybe you need an artist, or a programmer. So! Game jams on itch.io are a great way to get to work and meet other game devs that have different strengths! Or ask around! Maybe your artist friend secretly always wanted to draw for a game. Ask! Collaborate! Have fun!!!

I hope that was useful! If it was. Maybe. You'd like to buy me a coffee. Or maybe you could check out my comics and games. Or just my new critically acclaimed game In Stars and Time. If you want. Ok bye

[ithebookhoarder]

Could you write an Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader fic? They are newly weds and the reader wishes to pamper Anthony while he is bathing. He’s a bit cautious about it at first because he is not used to such affection. Thank youu I love your writing a lot especially the truth or dare fic.

In Your Hands (Anthony Bridgerton x Wife!Reader)

A/N: First of all, thank you so much! And I hope you like this. Thanks for sending this ask in, luckily I was already toying with a few Bridgerton ideas thanks to the new trailers so this came surprisingly easy.

Also, if any of you guys enjoy my work, or just feel like it, then consider buying me a cup of coffee here: https://ko-fi.com/ithebookhoarder ☕️

Warnings: Nudity references, the start of sexy-times, alcohol 

Masterlist

Anthony was someone who hated routine. After all, as much as he was devoted to the day to day duties that came with being the head of his family, if he had his way he would escape the city and the ton, choosing instead the peace and tranquility offered by the countryside, at Aubrey Hall. He dreamed of being able to be just a brother, son and - as of recently - a husband. 

Only married a few months, your new husband was keen to seize each and every opportunity to escape his duties when they appeared - whether it was sneaking off for long rides in the countryside, or making an early exit from whatever social gathering you both had been forced to attend as the new Viscount and Viscountess Bridgerton; Whatever allowed you both to be alone and back in one another’s arms (usually sans clothes) as soon as possible, was a good idea to him. 

It was no surprise then, that there was one part of his daily routine that Anthony actually relished: bathing. 

Oh, yes. There was little more in the world that could bring your fully-grown husband such child-like joy as being able to soak in a tub of steaming hot water for an hour or two. The sight always made you smile as you entered your bedroom: Anthony, half asleep, looking as if the stress had physically melted away. 

It was your favourite sight - and not just because of the exquisite view it granted you of his sculpted form - but because of how calm and peaceful he looked. It was as if he had transformed back into the mischievous and carefree boy you’d first fallen in love with all those years ago. Back when your only concerns had been not tripping on your skirt at your presentation, making sure you were actually asked to dance at a ball, and surviving the social season without embarrassing your family or getting yourself roped into some scandal. 

Whilst you knew neither you nor Anthony would ever change a single thing about your life together, you knew it came with a cost. In fact, today it had been enduring hours of talks with local tenants, the family’s book keeper, estate managers, and even several possible suitors looking to secure some kind of marriage contract with one of his younger sisters. (You’d been informed by several members of the household staff that those meetings had been remarkably swift, however, with each unfortunate man looking rather dejected as they were shown from the house). 

If you’d been able to spare him the pain or share his burden you would have, but unfortunately you’d been occupied with matters of your own. Being the lady of such a grand estate came with duties of its own, and you were quite done looking over seating arrangements, replying to correspondence, and paying social calls for one day.  

Still, at least you’d both survived to tell the tale - no wonder Anthony looked half asleep. Then again, maybe it had something to do with the open bottle of whiskey that sat on the table beside the tub. You knew without looking at the label which bottle it was, having smuggled it out of the library yourself to enjoy together. 

“Anthony Bridgerton!” A fake gasp of horror escaped your lips as you appeared in the doorway, a hand pressed to your chest. “You are a sneak and a traitor. That whiskey was for me too, you know.”

“And a good evening to you too, my love. Never fear, there’s plenty to share,” he teased, head relaxed, tipped backward as he took a sip from the glass in his hand. Your eyes were transfixed on the hollow of his throat, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “Besides, I would apologise but I simply couldn’t wait a minute longer. Not when I couldn’t feel my back from sitting at that desk all afternoon.”

The moan that escaped his lips was almost sinful as he sank a little lower in the water.  

“Well, you’re forgiven. You look far too content for me to even dream of being mad,” you sighed, drawing close and perching on the rim of the tub. Anthony handed over the whiskey glass with a soft smile, letting you take a sip of your own before you placed it back onto the table. 

You could feel the warmth seep into your bones immediately, even if that was also likely in part to your proximity to the tub and your naked husband. 

“Do you want me to wash your hair?”

Anthony’s eyebrows rose at the question, the surprise written across his face. “What?”

“You heard me,” you teased, reaching up to run your fingers through the soft strands of hair atop his head. “I can wash your hair, and get your back for you. Unless you’d rather do it yourself, or I can ring for someone?”

“What? No, that’s uh, that’s not necessary,” he chuckled, visibly flustered - which was amusing and perplexing. After all, it wasn’t as if you two hadn’t seen and touched every single inch of the other in the weeks since your wedding. However, he looked almost confused at the idea that you would offer such a thing. “You don’t have to do that.”

“But I want to,” you soothed. “Let me take care of you, for once. Husband.”

It was probably below the belt to purr his title like that, but you knew how that one little word had the power to reduce the great Viscount Bridgerton to a puddle. That, along with the warmth of the water and the buzz of the whiskey, made him almost pliant to your every whim. Still, you knew him well enough to recognise the lingering hesitation in his eyes as he nodded in agreement. 

He very rarely let his guard down or allowed anyone to assist him in any way. You sometimes believed that had the servants not been dependant upon their work to make a living that Anthony would have dismissed them long ago and tried to run the entire estate single handedly just to prove he could. That he was worthy of the title he bore, and that he was every bit as great a man, brother, and husband as his father. 

It appeared he was the same way when it came to letting himself be taken care of and it made your heart ache for the man you loved. 

Pressing a triumphant kiss to his lips, you swiftly manoeuvred yourself, pulling up a stool and grabbing a jug from the dresser.  

“Just relax… trust me,” you murmured, waiting until he did as he was bid. The gesture alone said volumes, more so than any words ever could. 

Waiting until his eyes were shut, you reached for the soap, tilting his head against your chest as you began to massage the mixture into his scalp. Yet again, your husband seemed to transform into a cat, purring with every touch in a way that made it suddenly very difficult to resist the urge to strip off and join your husband in the water instead. 

“Enjoying yourself?” You giggled as Anthony barely managed more than a groan in reply. 

It was taking every ounce of your self control to focus your attentions solely on Anthony, and not on the way his body seemed to be reacting to your ministrations. Thankfully, you were able to last long enough to finish the job, using the jug to rinse the water through his hair, making sure to angle his head upwards so the water ran off him instead of into his eyes. 

But you were only human; the minute you were done washing the last suds from his scalp you made your move. Sliding off the stool, you knelt beside him and reached out to caress his cheek, causing him to open his eyes almost sleepily. Leaning forward you planted a soft, delicate kiss to his lips, causing him to groan in response.

Without saying a word, his hands rose, twisting their way into your hair as he deepened his kiss. It was clear what he wanted next. 

“Now, wife,” he growled, pulling back just long enough to reach down and tug teasingly at the tie of your dress-robe. You could feel the warmth of his touch as his wet body began to dampen the material. “I think it’s your turn to let me take care of you… so you’d better get in here, before I drag you in here.”

[cherry-coffees]

Marriage of Convenience!Caitlyn headcanons

marriage of convenience!Caitlyn who does not want to get married - much less to someone she doesn’t know or have feelings for. so when Cassandra introduces you to her for the first time, all she knows is that you’re from some noble house in Noxus and she resents you. It’s not your fault, she knows, but it’s so much easier to have someone to blame for her unhappiness.

marriage of convenience!Caitlyn who watches Cassandra talk to your mother in silent rage, who watches you smile politely and just go along with this. this just makes her resent you even more because why are you so okay with it?

marriage of convenience!Caitlyn who (very reluctantly) attends the ball in celebration of your engagement. no one know it’s arranged - everyone in Piltover thinks that a Piltovian and Noxian fell in love and oh how wonderful it is that these star-crossed lovers will bring peace and an alliance between the two regions! Caitlyn wants to scream the truth at them all until her lungs burn. but her mother would kill her, so she just stands there with a fake smile, blue gaze icy.

marriage of convenience!Caitlyn who eventually ducks out of the main ballroom and onto a secluded balcony, seeking some relief from the constant attention of the crowd, only to find that you’re already there. frustration runs through her veins, a scowl automatically gracing her sharp features because why can’t she just have a single moment alone? but her expression morphs into one of surprise when she takes in your posture: leaning against the balcony railing in your gown, your head low and your body almost crumpled — defeated.

Caitlyn can’t help but hesitate, straightening out her Commander uniform she had insisted upon wearing. She doesn’t know whether to intrude or leave you be. But, she supposes, you will be married soon. 

So she breaks the silence, stepping forward to lean on the railing beside you. “Why aren’t you in the ballroom?”

“Why aren’t you?” You counter, not bothering to meet her eyes. You stare ahead, looking out at all of Piltover all lit up at night. 

Caitlyn can’t stop the scoff that escapes her. “Too much attention for something I don’t want.”

You bob your head once, lifting a shoulder in a half-shrug. “Makes two of us.”

“Are you kidding?” Caitlyn’s eyes narrow, eyebrows furrowing and turning her body to fully face you. “You seem to be quite content going along with everything your parents want.”

“Yeah, well,” you exhale, your breath coming out as a puff in the cold night air. Caitlyn notices this, gaze darting to the gooseflesh that prickles on your bare arms. “There’s nothing either of us can do about it. It’s better to go along and make the best of it. If I’m going to be married to you, I don’t want to hate each other.”

Caitlyn blinks, slightly taken aback. “I-“ she pauses, considering your words. “I don’t hate you.”

“Seems like it.”

“I don't,” she insists, and you finally turn your head so your eyes lock with hers. “Look-“ Caitlyn holds your gaze, a twinge of respect stirring within her. “If my parents had to marry me off to someone, I’m glad it’s you. I know we just met, but you’re very respectful, and you seem kind. I like that.” She hesitates again, eyes flicking down over your body for a split-second. “And you’re undeniably pretty.”

“Uh- thank you." You blink, wide-eyed at the unexpected compliment, a pink hue dusting your cheeks. You can't deny that being called pretty in that posh accent of hers makes you a little flustered. But you push past it, shaking your head to clear your mind and continuing. "You’re right: we don’t know each other. But since we’re getting married, I’d like to, if you’ll allow it.”

And for the first time since Cassandra broke the news to her about this marriage, Caitlyn lets herself give you a half-smile. “Yeah,” she nods, a hint of interest in her eyes. “I’d like that.”

I have loose plans to write a full fic of this so!!! Stay tuned and lmk if you have any ideas/things you'd like to see with this <333

Reminder that my asks are open!

[traveler-at-heart]

Doctor's In - Part 14

Summary: The universe (and some people) conspire to reunite you with Wanda.

“Y/N” Wanda says, and your heart beats faster.

“Hey. Hi. How…”

How are you? is such an idiotic question to ask. You clear your throat, running your fingers through your hair.

“What’s up?”

Ok, that’s worse.

“Sorry for bothering you, I wasn’t… I wasn’t thinking clearly. Tommy ran away…”

“Wait, he what? Hold on, I’ll call you when I’m at the airport”

“No, no” Wanda pleads, regretting her choice of words. “He’s safe. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you”

“Ok. Maybe lead with that next time?” you sigh, collapsing in the sofa.

Wanda laughs and it makes your heart swoon. And ache.

“You’re right, I’m so sorry. Like I said… I wondered if he might have been in touch with you or something and that’s why I called. But he’s safe now”

“I haven’t spoken to them since I left” you say in a small voice, and Wanda falls silent for a moment.

“They ask about you all the time”

“I think about them all the time”

And about you.

“Anyways. Sorry for scaring you and interrutpting”

“Just watching a movie” you say, knowing she’s referring to Natasha. Though you don’t owe her an explanation.

You both stay silent and you have to hold back tears.

“Uh, sorry about leaving my stuff. I could get someone to pick them up. I’m not going back to Westview until Carol’s wedding in April” you say.

“No, that’s fine. Don’t worry about it, leave them here and just come over when you’re in town” Wanda says, disappointed to hear that you don’t have any immediate plans to come back to Westview.

“Ok, thanks. I should…”

“I follow Jenny on instagram” Wanda says, clearly ignoring your attempt to end the conversation.

“Really?” you play dumb. “You know I don’t have social media, so we just text”

“She posted a picture of you. And your brother I assume?”

“Zach, yeah. She’s applying to NYU, so we had a weekend there. The usual, Broadway, baseball. It was fun”

“It looked like fun, yeah” Wanda nods, remembering how much joy it brought her to see you again.

You looked fine. A little tired, but the smile was there, maybe because your sister was hugging you close while your brother made a face.

Of course they’d love you, even if you hadn’t been in contact for years. You are amazing.

And Wanda fucked it up. She stares at the ring, still thinking about whether or not to tell you she found it.

“Y/N…”

There’s the distinct sound of a pager and you sigh.

“Great. I’m sorry, I have to go”

“I understand” Wanda says. “You take care of yourself now, ok?”

“Bye, Wanda”

You hang up, because you can’t stand the idea of saying goodbye to her. Is this really how it ends? A stupid phone conversation and you taking back boxes of clothes in a few months.

You wish you could call her back and tell her this is bullshit, she was an ass and so were you, but you can work through it.

But you don’t, because you’re scared of what she has to say.

So you leave for work, thinking about her voice, her laugh, her lips on your skin.

And how the memories are all that’s left of your life together.

—

Wanda stares at the phone. Just when she had gathered the courage to tell you about the ring, you hung up.

Maybe it was for the best.

What would you even say? That you planned on proposing and then Wanda ruined everything? Hurt you, destroyed your relationship beyond repair.

Knowing about the ring didn’t change things, not on your side.

Wanda sat on the porch, holding on to the ring box. She opens it again, amazed at how beautiful and perfect it is. It was obvious you had put so much thought into picking the right ring.

“Señor Scratchy!” Agatha calls for him, around the corner. “Why didn’t Rio give me a freakin fish instead? Hey, Wanda”

“Hi, Agatha. Your bunny again?”

“Yeah, he likes to escape. Heard you have one of those as well” she smiles, referring to Tommy.

“How did you…?”

“Oh, haven’t you heard” the woman keeps chatting as she looks around, hoping to spot the animal. “Your mom and I are besties. I was just with Mrs. Davies”

Of course.

“I think he’s right here” Wanda thinks she spots the bunny, moving forward. She tries to catch him with both hands, but ends up dropping the box, revealing the ring.

“Damn, that’s nice” Agatha whistles, picking it up and examining it. “Family heirloom?”

“No, not exactly” Wanda shakes her head, picking up the bunny and hugging him close to her chest.

Agatha sits next to her, still looking at the ring.

“So, she was proposing. Come on, it doesn’t take a genius to know” she says when Wanda gives her a look.

“God, I screwed up so bad” Wanda shakes her head. “She left for good and I won’t ever be able to fix this”

“Did she really?”

“What?”

“Leave? For good. Don’t you have all her clothes here? If she was done, she would have taken them out, changed her number, thrown the ring into the river” Agatha argues, placing the box down.

“I hurt her too much. She’ll never forgive me”

“Are we talking about the same Y/N? The one that brought medicine to that old lady down the street even if she was a homophobic demon?”

“Agatha, don’t speak ill of the dead” Wanda says, though Mrs. Miller was the worst person she ever met.

“Well, she’s in a warmer place now. But anyway! That’s not the point. You can stay here and cry all day or you can at least try. You’re assuming the worst and that’s what led you here, isn’t it?”

“Well…”

“Get your sorry ass from the floor and do something about it, Maximoff! Get the girl back” Agatha says, shaking Wanda by the shoulders.

“Ok, ok! I’ll think of something”

“Good girl. Now hand me back my bunny. We’re past our bedtime”

—

Darcy’s walking down the hallway when she gets a text from you.

Y/N: Out on a sidequest, call you later. Love ya

“Who does she think she is, deciding when I get to scold her?” she complains. The brunette is so busy typing out a response that she misses the man that almost crashes into her.

“So sorry. I’m looking for Chief Fury”

“Job interview?” she says, arching her eyebrow.

“Yes, for Head of Trauma”

“Right. Well, I’m sorry that no one told you before, but that position’s been taken. Better luck next time…” she dismisses the man, the way she’s been tricking the few people who have been meeting the chief.

Darcy’s always looking for a way to sabotage the interviews, either by lying and saying the position’s closed or by feeding them false information. Like Fury likes to be greeted with two kisses, one on each cheek.

That was a fun day.

The man walks away, and she’s about to reply to you when someone calls her from the corner.

“Psss”

Darcy looks around, her eyes meeting Rio’s. This is gonna be interesting.

“What’s up, girl?”

“I know someone who is looking to form an alliance… to bring Y/N back” she whispers, and then smiles like a psycho. “She wants to speak to you”

“If it’s Wanda…”

“Nope. Do you agree to a meeting? I’ll set it up”

Darcy thinks about it for a second, considering if it’s worth it. She should at least get to know her potential ally.

“Fine. But I’m not meeting them in a dark alley”

“I’ll arrange it”

Darcy is about to change her mind when Chief Fury calls for her. In the split second it takes her to look back at her boss, Rio has completely vanished.

“You wouldn’t happen to have seen a doctor that was coming for an interview?”

“No, and boy, look at the time, it’s appy hour at Stark Hospital!” she glances at her wrist watch. “See ya around, boss!”

“You can’t keep sending them home, Lewis! We need a new Head of Trauma” Fury says.

“Totally, good luck with that!”

—

“Ready?”

“No” you say, refusing to leave the dressing room. You see Darcy typing but then her text is never sent. She’s probably working.

Which is what you’d rather be doing instead of trying on dresses.

“Come out now” Natasha commands, and her tone leaves little room for argument.

“Fine”

You stumble awkwardly out of the changing room, not used to wearing dresses.

“I look stupid” you complain, and Natasha supresses a laugh. “I’m not going!”

That makes her jump.

“You look fine!”

“It’s not my style. And why are you picking out dresses for me?”

“Because I already have mine, and I know what will match” Natasha explains, handing you another one. “Try this one”

Before you can protest, Yelena jumps out, admiring herself on the mirror.

“My boobs look great in this!”

“Yeah, they do” you nod, which earns you a slap on the arm by Natasha. “Hey, I’m just being supportive. Unlike that bra she’s wearing”

“I’m not wearing a bra. I think it will look better that way” she comments.

“No, you just want to piss off mother” Natasha says, leaning against the wall. She waits until you step out to help pull your zipper up. “See? You clean up nice”

“I still don’t like it” you mutter. “I’m a pants kinda gal through and through”

Yelena has settled on her dress, which makes you feel pressured to pick something. So you just let Natasha decide and walk with her to the register.

“I’m paying for it”

“Nu-uh”

“You’re going as a favor to me”

“It’s an open bar, you will regret inviting me”

You try to reach for her hand and drop her credit card, but she’s faster. And infuriating. The struggle makes you lose your footing, dropping to the floor.

“You’re both idiots” Yelena steps over you to pay for her clothes.

As Natasha helps you up, you look at a shop across the street.

“Wow, those are pretty cool”

“Huh…” Natasha looks you up and down, evaluating the possibilities. “Leave that dress. We’re finding something else”

—

Wanda’s looking at her phone again. Ekaterina and Pietro share a look, knowing something’s up.

Everyone’s home today, even if it’s a school day. Considering everything that happened yesterday, Wanda thought it might be a good idea to let the kids stay, watch movies and have some family time.

Though she still has to go to a meeting with Laura. The book is getting published soon and there are events they have to plan, like readings at bookshops or libraries.

It was Wanda’s favorite part about releasing a new book. And the worst thing is she was looking forward to having you by her side, to share all the things that happen while doing it.

“Gotta go meet Laura. I won’t be long” she announces, and is pleasantly surprised when the twins rush to hug her goodbye. “Let’s all go out for dinner, what do you guys think?”

“Yeah, sounds fun” Tommy says, going back to the couch where he’s playing videogames with Pietro.

Before starting her drive, she breathes deeply and decides to just pull the plug. So, she sents you a message and hopes you’ll answer.

Wanda has to remind herself that you’re probably busy and that’s why there’s no reply when she parks outside of her friend’s office.

“Hey, how are you doing?” Laura goes straight to hug her. “I’m happy Tommy’s ok”

“Yeah, we’re all good. Just hoping things get better soon”

“Of course. Honestly, we don’t have to talk about the promo tour today, you should go home and spend time with them, Wanda”

“No, that’s fine. I could use the distraction” she nods, pulling out her laptop.

For the next hour, they go over the calendar, deciding which events will take priority. It’s a month and a half away, but Wanda knows time flies when you have to meet a deadline.

“There’s one last thing” Laura says, trying to sound normal. “And listen, just give it some thought, ok?”

“What is it?”

“You know Wendy Lawson, right?”

“The legendary author? Of course I do. Who doesn’t?”

“She’s working on a new book, and she asked specifically about you to illustrate it” Laura says, with a very distinct lack of enthusiasm.

“Ok, that’s amazing! That’s every artist’s dream. Why are you making it sound like a bad thing?” Wanda says, confused.

“Well, here’s the thing. She doesn’t want to just do everything over video calls or anything else. Wendy is asking for you to go back and forth to review designs in person. And it’s right before the tour, so… it’s gonna be a hassle”

Wanda realises a second later that Wendy Lawson is currently living in Boston.

“I’ll do it” she says, her mind racing with ideas.

She could go and look for you, try to talk face to face. Fix everything, or at the very least try.

This seems like more than a coincidence.

It’s meant to be.

“Really? What about the kids?”

“Well, it doesn’t look like my mother is planning on leaving anytime soon. And seeing as this is a once in a lifetime opportunity…”

“Yeah, it is. Alright, then let’s set up a meeting with her team. I do think you have to speak with her editor first, but they’ll be happy to fly you to Boston” Laura says, shocked that it took no effort to convince Wanda. This really was a great opportunity, but all things considered, she was expecting a very firm no on her friend’s side.

“Great” Wanda says, putting her things away. “It’s settled then”

She feels very optimistic once she gets in the car.

It’s even better when you finally reply to her text.

The music’s loud as she drives home, but for the first time it isn’t to keep her from thinking about you. It’s just because she’s happy.

—

Darcy’s not sure this is a good idea.

She’s sitting at the diner like Rio told her, with her back to the door.

“Whatever you do, don’t look at the people coming in. They want to remain in the shadows” Rio had said with a somber expression.

Maybe it was all a prank.

But still, she hears the door open and close, and then someone is sitting on the booth behind her, and she’s back to back with her mysterious ally.

“Doctor Darcy Lewis?” a woman says.

“Yes” Darcy frowns. “Who am I speaking to?”

“That is not important, Doctor Lewis. What’s important is that we share a common goal”

“Bring Y/N back”

“With Wanda” the mystery woman adds.

“Now wait a minute!” Darcy snaps, ignoring the warning of not looking at the woman. “Nu-uh. I don’t give a damn if she gets back with Wanda. In fact, I don’t think she deserves her, not after all the shitty things she said to my friend”

“Love is complicated, Doctor”

“Is it now, Mrs. Maximoff?” Darcy glares.

The woman sighs, moving to Darcy’s booth and sitting in front of her.

“How did you know?”

“Gut feeling. Plus you have the same eyes” the brunette crosses her arms, ready to continue arguing. “Like I said, I want my friend back because this is where she belongs. Whatever the deal is between her and Wanda is none of my concern. Especially because she’s the reason Y/N left in the first place”

“And you don’t think they can fix it?” the woman asks. It sounds like she really wants to know, considering Darcy is your best friend and knows you better than anyone.

And truth is, you were really happy with Wanda. It felt like you had found a place in the world, with a family that loved you.

“Maybe. I know Y/N still loves Wanda. That’s why she ran away. She was probably scared to ask Wanda to work it out and have her slam the door in her face”

“Yes, well, my daughter isn’t particularly good at dealing with rejection either” Ekaterina sighs.

“Fine. If it means I get my best friend back I can work with you. But I won’t put in a good word for Wanda unless I’m convinced she’ll do better”

“That’s fair”

“So, let’s get some food. Seems like we have a lot of planning to do” Darcy says, smiling at the other woman.

—

It’s all moving surprisingly fast. As in, Wanda already has a flight booked for Friday, returning early Saturday.

Her mother takes the news surprisingly well.

“Mama, if it’s too much work I’m sure I can get a babysitter…”

“A stranger to look after my boys!” Ekaterina sighs, exasperated. “I’m not that old, malyshka. I can handle it for two days”

“Alright, if you’re sure…”

“Yes. Now I have to take my daily walk. Come, little dog” she calls for Sparky, who is eager to get out of the house.

There’s a reason behind it, though. She needs to call her secret ally and update her on the news.

“Darcy here” the brunette greets. “I know you’re calling to scold me, but I haven’t been able to convince her to come back for Carol’s fake bridal shower”

“That won’t be necessary. Wanda’s going to Boston”

“Damn, you’re good. How did you get her to do it?” Darcy says.

“Oh, the universe works in mysterious ways. It’s actually something about work but it might be a good chance for them to meet. Can you find out what Y/N is doing this week? I’ll try to convince Wanda to meet her”

“Wait, when did you say she was going to Boston?”

“Oh… you heard already” Kate Bishop comes out of nowhere. “I-I’m sorry, I meant to tell you sooner, and it’s only going to be a week, I promise I’ll come back”

“Bishop, what are you babbling about?” Darcy interrupts, frowning. She’s definitely not as patient as you were with the resident.

“I thought you knew about me going to Boston for a few days. Just to observe the kidney transplant. Yelena invited me”

“Ok, hold on. Ekaterina, we have someone on the inside”

“Inside of what? You Americans and your vulgar…”

“Gotta call you back” Darcy hangs up, pulling Kate along. “Ok, tell me everything you’re supposed to do. If you want Y/N back to teaching you, you have to agree to be our doble agent”

“Our?”

“That’s not important” Darcy dismisses her question. “Now speak”

—

Wanda: Do you have a moment to chat?

Y/N: Hey, I’m going to join a surgery. Can call in a few hours.

Y/N: Everything ok?

Wanda has been texting you here and there to ask about small stuff. It’s always something related to things you were in charge of, like Sparky’s vet appointments or her car’s maintenance.

If it makes her life easier, you’re more than happy to help. It’s the least you could do.

Except today. She texted early and you honestly didn’t check your phone. Now calls aren’t coming through either.

“Hey, Kate” you greet at the front desk, still looking at your phone. “Checked my post ops yet? There’s this guy in room 1045 that I need to…”

Wait a damn minute.

You finally look up.

“Hi” your former resident greets with a smile and you finally snap out of it.

This is Boston. Kate doesn’t work here.

“What are you… is Darcy here?” you look around, knowing your friend is capable of kidnapping you if that’s what it takes.

“No, I’m here because Yelena invited me to see the kidney transplant” she rushes to explain. “Also, hi Doctor Y/L/N. It’s good to see you”

“Call me Y/L, I’m not your superior anymore. And yeah, right back at you” you smile at her. You’re about to say goodbye as you have some patients to check still but she speaks again.

“We all miss you. Barnes and Doctor Lewis fight all the time”

“That sounds about right. I miss everyone too” you admit with a sad smile. “Anyway, gotta check on post ops. See you there”

It’s a little freaky, to see Kate in the midde of a hospital that is not Stark. Like you’re having deja vu or something. It almost feels like you’ll run into Darcy next, or get a surprise visit from Wanda to drop off some cookies.

Stop it.

You need to focus. All eyes are on the hospital for the next few days as they’ll perform the second xenotransplant. It’s amazing, really. A genetically-edited pig kidney into a living recipient.

And although you’re not in the surgical team, you are allowed in the OR to observe and help.

“You’ll never believe who I ran into” you say when you spot Natasha. “Kate. She said Yelena invited her”

“Huh. Do you think that she’s also her date to the gala?” Natasha frowns. In that precise moment, Yelena walks by, making you both turn to look at her. Without saying anything, you run after her, Natasha close behind.

You manage to catch up, blocking her path and making sure Natasha doesn’t let her escape either.

“I don’t have time to play games”

“Is it because you’re little girlfriend is already here?” you mock.

“What?”

“Kate Bishop” Natasha clarifies.

“That is not… you don’t even know what… сука! Both of you” Yelena blushes. Natasha and you laugh at her expression, and she uses the distraction to walk around you. She makes sure you get to see her flipping you off before disappearing around the corner.

“Are you ready?” Natasha asks, turning her attention towards you.

“Yeah. I’m just observing, never been to one”

“I meant the gala”

“Oh, that. I’ve never been to one of those either”

“Just eat, drink, laugh” Natasha eases your nerves. “Mother is the only one giving a speech. She wants to let everyone know we’re doing another transplant”

“Wait, but why would she schedule the surgery after the gala? Is it because post op is a lot of work?”

“You know the rejection risk is higher with genetically altered organs” Natasha explains. “If the gala happens before the surgery, she can just mention we are doing it. Now, if it goes wrong, it won’t be part of the speech”

“Oh, ok”

“It’s all politics” she says, understanding you’re career has never been about that.

“Well, I’ll see you in the penthouse? Don’t know if the lovebirds are riding with us”

“Seven thirty” Natasha nods, leaving to check on some patients.

The sound of your phone makes you turn back, but it’s not Wanda.

“Hey, Darcy. Guess who’s in Boston?”

“Hey, pal. Oh, do tell” the brunette asks, curious if Ekaterina convinced Wanda to let you know about her travel plans.

“Kate. Yelena invited her to this gala the Romanoffs are planning. It was so crazy running into her in the front desk. For a moment I thought I went back in time”

“Oh. Yeah, Kate” Darcy sounds disappointed, which is weird. “She took some days off but I had no idea that was her plan” she lies.

“Well, I’m sure she didn’t want anyone to think I was convincing her to leave Stark Hospital”

“So, a gala!” Darcy changes the subject. “Sounds fun. Are you going?”

“Yeah. There’s an open bar”

“And are you bringing a date?”

“Well, I am the date. I’m Natasha’s plus one” you explain, and there’s an awkward pause on the other side of the line. “Uh, Darcy?”

Damn it, damn it.

Darcy already knew about the gala. It was so easy to make Kate crack under the slightest pressure.

But her plan was to make Wanda reach out today and you’d ask her to be your date. You being Natasha’s date is not gonna work out.

“Yeah, I just… so what are you doing the day after the gala?”

“Kidney transplant. I mean, not doing it. But just watching and assisting for a bit”

For fuck’s sake, would you even have a spare moment to meet Wanda?

This might be the only chance she’d get, considering it wouldn’t be certain she’d be getting the job.

“Ok, well. Have fun doing everything. Sounds like you’re booked and busy”

“Yeah. I’ll tell you how it goes. Bye, Darcy”

As soon as you hang up, Darcy calls Wanda’s mother.

“We need to delay the operation contact zero for one day”

“I’ll call my insider” the woman answers criptically.

“You scare me, Ekaterina” Darcy says, questioning if the woman is some sort of retired spy. When she hears the older woman laugh and hang up, she’s 99% convinced that’s the case.

—

“What do you mean, if I can keep her occupied for the entire day? Laura, I’m pregnant!”

“Lily, I know…”

“So pregnant, that if I so much as sneeze, I’m positive this baby will just pop out!”

“That’s not how it works, thankfully. Trust me, I know”

“Laura…” the woman pinches the bridge of her nose.

Should have taken maternity leave sooner.

“Look, I get it. It’s complicated, but I promise you, if you listen to me, Wanda will sign the deal and go back and forth between Boston and Westview”

Thing is, Lily really needs this. If her boss finally finds an illustrator that can live up to her expectations, then she can take her leave and not be bothered by work in the upcoming 12 weeks.

“Ok, fine. I’ll figure something out”

“Thank you, I owe you big time”

“Uh-hu. Yeah, you do, Mrs. Barton”

“Oh, and try to keep her away from her phone”

“Anything else? Oh, gotta go”

Wanda Maximoff comes out of the arrival’s section in the airport, looking around. Lily waves her hand, and the redhead walks towards her with a smile.

“Hello, you must be Lily…” she goes to shake her hand, but the other woman pulls her in for a hug.

“Sorry about the baby bump, he wants to say hi as well”

“No, no worries at all. How far along?”

“Well, 39 weeks which means I’m ready to pop any day now! That also means we get a driver to take us anywhere you want. So get in the car and prepare for a very busy day, Wanda”

“Oh, my phone is in my bag…” Wanda says as Lily throws it in the trunk.

“No worries, Laura has my number. If anyone needs to reach you she can text or call” the woman insists, hoping Wanda doesn’t push it.

Of course, she doesn’t as she wants to make a good impression on her potential employers.

“Let’s start with the Paul Revere house, shall we?”

—

You look at yourself in the mirror for the tenth time. When was the last time you dressed fancy?

Even if it’s tailored to perfection, you’re still making sure the red suit is looking fine, adjusting the white shirt underneath the jacket.

Though you don’t know what Natasha’s wearing, she promised you’d match.

And she’s right, because when she knocks on your door and you open it, she’s wearing a black and red sequenced dress. It’s a mermaid cut that favors her figure.

“Shall we get going?” she says when you keep staring.

“Yes, of course. Don’t laugh at me” you add when you spot a faint smile on her face.

“I already told you, it’s fun to see you flustered”

“Mhm. Are the lovebirds joining us?”

“I think they’ll be arriving separately. It’s not like prom where we all ride a limo”

“Well, I didn’t go to prom, and if I had, it certainly wouldn’t have been on a limo” you say, making Natasha laugh.

She drives you to the gala, as you have no idea where it’s all happening. A man approaches to open your door and help you out.

“Fancy” you comment when a valet takes Natasha’s car. “And I’m surprised you let anyone else drive that thing”

“They already know how much it costs” she comments.

If you think a man opening the car door is fancy, then what the hell is the thing waiting inside? There’s a chandelier, a string quartet, servers dressed to the nines and the best part, an open bar with all the things you could dream of drinking.

“Hey, where are you dragging me?”

“We have to say hello first” Natasha says through her teeth. “You’ll get drunk later, trust me”

The woman drags you to a table where Melina is chatting with two men, and they introduce themselves. The names don’t ring any bells, but apparently they are congressmen.

“A pleasure” you say, hoping the small talk can end soon.

“Is this your first gala? I don’t recall seeing you before”

“Yes, I’m working as Head of Trauma at Romanoff Medical Center until they can find someone to stay for good” you explain.

“Why not stay here? Is there somewhere else you might want to go?”

“I’m not sure. Coming to Boston was never in my plans but here I am. I guess I’m just living one day at a time” you say with a fake smile. Natasha picks up on your discomfort, ending the conversation and excusing the both of you.

She goes around the room to introduce you to other people, but when Yelena finally arrives you walk up to meet her.

“Took your sweet time” Natasha scolds her.

“We got caught up… in something” Yelena explains as Kate joins her. You notice she’s wearing an all black suit, which is a stark contrast to Yelena’s golden, low cut dress.

“Oh, looks like you have a hickey there” you point at a spot in Yelena’s neck, her hand flying to cover it.

“I told you not to…” she glares at Kate, and you laugh.

“She didn’t. But now we know you both were getting nasty”

Natasha laughs as well. Yelena is about to curse at you, when her mother interrupts her.

“Behave” she warns. “Hello, I am Yelena’s mother”

“Kate Bishop” the girl introduces herself, and Melina arches an eyebrow.

“Bishop, as in Bishop Security?”

“Yes, that would be correct” Kate says, visibly awkward.

“Well, I’d love to catch up with your mother. Had I known you’d be here, I would have invited her as well. Next time” Melina nods, leaving as someone calls for her a moment later.

“So, am I the only one who isn’t some sort of nepo baby?” you throw the question in the air, making the Romanoffs roll their eyes.

“I’ll find our seats”

Yelena leaves too, but Kate stays behind, sitting next to you at the bar.

“So…”

“Whisky neat” you ask the bartender as he walks by.

“When are you returning to Westview?” Kate says.

“Make it a doble” you add, sighing. The brunette doesn’t take the hint, though.

“You are returning to Westview, right? Doctor Lewis mentioned your contract is only for three months…”

“Yeah, but I quit. And I doubt Fury will want to hire me again. I was a jerk that left without any notice, all because I couldn’t handle my break up” you mutter against the glass, sipping.

But Kate’s always been curious, questioning everything. It’s what makes her a great student, but right now? She’s a pain in your ass.

“So, what are you doing when the contract…?”

“Jesus, Kate. I don’t know. I try not to plan ahead ever since I bought a ring and fucked up my entire relationship. I had expectations about the future and now I can barely leave my bed. So, when my contract’s done I’ll decide what to do next”

“Right, I’m sorry”

“Kate, come sit” Yelena calls for her, her tone gentle. You look up, meeting hazel eyes that are glaring at you. But you decide to ignore Yelena and keep drinking.

The bartender sneaks out to smoke every ten minutes. Though this last break has been longer and you are in desperate need for more alcohol.

Another woman walks up to the bar, looking around.

“Ugh, I’ll do it myself. What can I get you?” you give up, walking behind the bar. You nod as you listen to the woman ask for a gin tonic. Between sips of your own drink, you pour gin over the ice, add tonic water and lime juice.

“Delicious!” the woman says. “Are you a bartender as well?”

“No, I’m a surgeon, which is why that lemon wedge is so perfectly cut” you joke, raising your glass to clink it against hers. “I’m Y/N”

“Valkyrie” the woman introduces herself. “Which hospital?”

“Stark Hospital” you answer out of habit. Then you shake your head, and clear your throat. “Sorry, meant to say I was at Stark, now I’m at RMC”

“So you must know Maria”

“Rambeau? Yeah, she’s great. I’m actually going to be her fiancee’s bridesmaid” you say, smiling.

“Glad to hear they were able to fix things. I was sad to see her go from the program, though, it was great to have such an experienced Peeds surgeon” she sighs.

“Wait. You’re on Doctor’s Without Borders?”

“Yes, I coordinate international programs. Why? You interested?” the woman smiles.

“Well… my contract is temporary. And I’ve always wanted to do that, but never really had the time or means”

After med school, it took a while for you to settle and pay off your student debt, so even participating in something like that felt like a bit of a luxurious career detour that you couldn’t afford.

But now, with all the money you’re earning -and saving on rent- it could very well be the next step in your career.

“You don’t have to answer right away. Here’s my card” Val says. “Remind me your specialty”

“Trauma”

“Never mind, you’re coming on the next flight with me” she jokes and you laugh.

Someone else calls for her and Val raises her glass, grateful for the drink. As you wave goodbye, you notice yours is painfully empty.

“Can I get some tequila, please?” you ask the bartender, who is finally back. However, Natasha comes out of nowhere, speaking over you.

“She’ll have water or coffee”

“Hey! Are you this controlling with all your dates?”

“Only when I find out my mother wants to put you on the spot in the middle of her speech” she whispers, which makes your eyes widen. “You’re too drunk to be coherent, so better sober up, now”

“What does she even want me to say?” you whisper yell as Natasha takes you to the table.

“That we’re a Level 1 Trauma Center and will continue to be one with your work”

“I’m not staying…”

“She’s hoping that putting you on the spot will awaken some sense of duty. Don’t expect it to make sense” Natasha mutters, sitting next to you.

Kate is to your left, chatting with Yelena, tensing when you sit down next to her.

Melina walks up to the small stage, and people clap as she prepares for her speech.

“Hey, about before…” you lean towards Kate, trying to apologize. Yelena shushes you and you glare. “I’m still your boss, Belova”

“Not tonight” she says, pulling Kate by the hand so she turns to the stage, her back to you.

“Evening’s going great” you grumble next to Natasha.

“I see why you only leave the penthouse to go clubbing”

But you can’t say anyhting as Melina begins her speech, thanking every big donor of the Romanoff foundation, NGOs working to bring awareness about certain diseases and the hospital staff, of course.

“It’s an exciting time for us. We are gearing up to do the second xenotransplant of a genetically altered kidney” Melina pauses when people clap again. “We’re also advancing and innovating in the ER, and as some of you may already know, we have a new…”

“I’m gonna throw up” you complain, hating whenever there’s attention drawn to you.

“Just clap and smile along”

“I’m seriously gonna throw up” you say, regretting the amount of alcohol you drank.

And just as Melina is about to say your name and point towards you, a man walks in the room, shouting.

“Is there a doctor here? We have an emergency!”

—

Wanda’s had quite the day. She’s now barely making it to the hotel, Lily waddling next to her.

“Oh, looks like there’s a fancy gala happening” she points out as they walk across the lobby.

Wanda doesn’t pay attention to that, finally able to check her messages.

The last one was of you saying you’d be out for the evening but that Wanda could call anytime if she needed something.

Honestly, she can’t wait to go up to her room and call you.

Unless…

Did you mean you were out on a date?

Wanda’s still trying to figure out the meaning behind the message when Lily, who was speaking to the receptionist to confirm Wanda’s reservation, laughs nervously.

“Well, looks like my water just broke”

“What did you just say?” Wanda snaps out of it, looking at Lily’s feet. “Well, ok, calm down. It’s gonna be fine. Can we get some help here?”

“What’s wrong?” the concierge asks, but catches on a second later when Lily sits on the floor, breathing heavily. “Oh, crap. Let’s just…”

For some weird reason, he runs to the other room where the fancy event is happening, shouting that they need a doctor.

Half the room turns to look at him and at least an entire table stands up.

“What kind of emergency?”

“A woman’s in labor”

“Ok, show me. Excuse me, ER doctor coming through”

Wanda’s so focused on helping Lily breath, that she doesn’t fully notice what’s happening or rather, who kneels beside her until she hears your voice.

“Hi, I’m Doctor Y/L/N. What’s your name?”

You’re completely immersed in your work, removing your jacket and pulling up the sleeves of your shirt to move around freely.

“Lily. I’m 39 weeks pregnant, should I push?”

“No, no! Absolutely not!” you rush to say, “Let’s call an ambulance, please?”

As you look around the room, seeing who will do as you ask, you finally notice someone who is kneeling next to you. Must be a friend of the woman.

You turn to ask if there’s anyone you should call when you meet those beautiful, green eyes. Ones you’d recognise anywhere.

“Wanda?”

“Hey”

Hey? Seriously?

A whole month thinking about you every second of every god damn day and the best Wanda can do is say hey

Are you fucking kidding me, Maximoff.

“Do you need help?”

“I’m here, I’m her resident”

Even if Yelena and Kate are… whatever they are, they’re still going to compete over getting some cases.

“Check her pulse and time contractions, if there are any” you tell them both, standing up and dragging Wanda with you. “I’m very confused right now. Are the kids ok? Why are you here?”

“It’s kind of a long story… and I, that’s why I texted earlier, but then the day got crazy and you told me you were on a date”

“Not a date” Natasha clarifies, appearing behind you. “Ambulance is here, the hospital’s been alerted. You should ride with them, get out of the speech while you can”

“Thanks” you nod, seeing the EMTs pull over. You turn to Wanda. “Are you coming with her?”

“No, Wanda, stay and get some rest, I made you walk around the city all day” Lily pleads.

“Are you crazy? No one should be doing this alone. I’m coming with you until your boyfriend gets to the hospital” Wanda decides, jumping on the back of the ambulance with Lily and you.

Yelena and Kate scramble to their feet, trying to get on the vehicle as well.

“Ok, it’s a little crowded in here, plus this is your family’s gala and Bishop, you are Yelena’s date. No one else goes”

“Fine” they mutter, disappointed.

The ride to the hospital is silent except for the machines monitoring Lily’s blood pressure. You’re keeping an eye on that, while checking on her heartbeat, using a stethoscope that you found in the ambulance.

“I forgot how good you are at that” Wanda says when your eyes meet again.

“At what? Checking a heartbeat?”

“Handling toddlers”

She’s talking about Yelena and Kate, which makes you laugh.

“Well, Billy and Tommy behave a hell of a lot better than those two back there”

“Not lately” Wanda sighs.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to mess everything up so badly, Wanda” you regret, leaning back.

“Am I missing something? You two know each other?” Lily says, pointing at Wanda and then at you. “Is that why Laura asked me to keep you busy this entire day?”

“She what?”

“We dated” you offer as an explanation, smiling at the woman in the stretcher.

“How long ago? Because you are still giving each other some major heart eyes”

It’s clear that the mild sedative is making the woman spill her every thought.

“Until a month ago”

“Well, whichever one of you screwed up, better get their act together because you’re clearly not over each other” Lily says.

“It was my fault” Wanda says at the same time as you. You both look at each other and you give her a small smile.

“I beg to differ, Miss Maximoff. It was me who got it all wrong”

“Not just you. I messed up real bad” Wanda says, leaning forward.

You’re about to say something else when the ambulance stops, and the doors open. You excuse yourself, giving the nurses and doctors a summary of the patient, walking next to Lily’s stretcher.

“I’ll come find you once she’s settled in a room” you promise Wanda.

She nods, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. What are the odds?

Which also brings her back to what Lily said. Why did Laura want her busy for the entire day?

There’s only one way to find out.

“Hey, how did it go today?” her friend picks up the phone, though it sounds like there’s an echo.

“Am I on speaker?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m cooking dinner” Laura lies.

“Are there children around?”

“No, why…”

“Ok, then what the fuck is going on, Laura?”

Somebody else whistles, and Wanda hears Pietro’s voice.

“Looks like you ladies got caught”

“Why are you there? Who else is around? Somebody better tell me what the hell is going on right now…”

“Give that to me” Darcy says, pushing Laura out of the way. “Hi, nice speaking to you, Maximoff. It’s just me, Laura, your mother and Pietro. Listen, we’ve been busting our asses for you to meet at the right time and find a way to make up with Y/N so I get my best friend back. So don’t fuck it up now, ok?”

“You’re not helping!” Laura protests. “Wanda, what do you mean? What happened today?”

“The minute I landed, Lily drove me around the entire city without a break. Did you manipulate a very pregnant woman to keep me busy and away from Y/N for the day?”

“Well, yeah. She was going with Natasha to the gala and I didn’t want you pulling one of your stunts again, not after getting so far along the plan” Darcy bites back.

“Great, so I crashed her date with Natasha with a woman giving birth. What a loser” Wanda massages her temples.

“Did you just say Lily was givig birth?” Laura says. “Oh, my God! Do you think it was my fault?”

“That’s a possibility, I’m not gonna lie to you” Darcy admits, taking the phone back. “Listen. Work it out with Y/N. Talk, fight, have angry sex, whatever it takes. I need my friend back, and you better grovel on the floor to beg for her forgiveness”

“I want to speak to my mother. Privately” Wanda ignores Darcy, knowing who’s really behind all of this.

“Hello, malyshka” Ekaterina greets, removing the speaker and walking away from Wanda’s kitchen, into the living room. Darcy and Laura put their ears against the door, trying to listen.

Pietro just laughs, shaking his head.

“Mama, you had no right…”

“Wanda? Lily’s in a room now” you call for her.

“This conversation isn’t over” she warns her mother, hanging up. “You wouldn’t believe what I just learned…”

Wanda’s looking down at her phone as she walks towards you, that adorable frown that she makes whenever something upsets her.

She keeps talking, but you’re looking at her lips, remembering how much you love kissing her.

Wanda notices, and she stops talking, but leans forward.

Her lips are so close, and then you hear the worst sound in the world.

“Doctor Y/L/N, your patient is… oooh”

To your missfortune, Ed interrupts you in that precise moment.

Of all people, it had to be the circus clown.

“Get lost, will ya?”

Wanda slaps your arm, but she has no idea how annoying the kid can be.

“She was asking for a Wanda, which I believe might be you…” he points to her.

“Come on” you guide her to Lily’s room. As you walk next to Wanda, you place your hands in your pockets, trying to hold back on reaching out to touch her.

You have no idea why she’s here, but at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter, does it? It was all said and done between you two. If you kiss her, you’ll go back to square one.

“Hey!” Lily greets as soon as you open the door for Wanda. There’s another woman standing next to the bed. She has short, grey hair and a kind smile.

“Wanda! Thank you so much for being there for Lily. I told her she should have been on maternity leave sooner”

“I wanted to find you the perfect artist” Lily sighs, adjusting herself on the bed.

“Doctor, thank you so much for helping Lily” the woman says. You have no idea what’s going on, or why she’s so happy to talk to Wanda.

What you do know is that it’s none of your business.

“Just doing my job. OBGYN will take it from here, as it looks like you’ll have to wait a bit before you’re ready to give birth”

“Your boyfriend’s on the way, right?” the woman asks Lily, and she nods. “We’ll keep you company for a bit, and once he’s here, we could go get something to eat. What do you think, Wanda?”

“Oh, I was…”

But when Wanda looks back, you’re already closing the door.

“Everything ok?” Wendy insists.

“Yeah, everything’s fine”

—

Wanda got the job.

It was hers.

Wendy Lawson was way cooler in person, and didn’t have a problem when Wanda was only half present during their conversation over dinner.

She thought the younger woman was just tired.

And now, back in her room, Wanda finally gets to rest and shower. You’re all she can think about.

It’s one thing to see you in an Instagram post, and another one to be right in front of you.

You seem healthy and happy. Even fitter, your hair longer and a bit of a stronger built. You must spend a lot of time at the gym.

But it’s you, the same smile, those kind eyes and the quiet confidence while you treat patients.

Honestly, Wanda’s very disappointed with herself. She was hoping to have a big speech ready, explain why she was in Boston. Grovel and beg for forgiveness, just like Darcy said.

All she got was an ambulance ride and a quick conversation in a hospital hallway.

As she wears one of your hoodies, and changes into a pair of yoga pants, her phone rings.

“I believe we have a pending conversation” her mother says. She’s not afraid of confrontation, never has been.

“Mama, this is my life. You have no right to…”

“Did I tell you I almost didn’t marry your father?” Ekaterina interrupts her daughter. Wanda stays silent, and the woman takes that as a sign to continue. “Your uncle Arvydas told me about a chance to move to England, work as a nanny for an embassador. I’d rather stay in Sokovia and be with your father, but everyone was telling me what to do or what was better for me. And you know what your father said?”

“No”

“He said I want to marry you. I’ll be at the church on the day we planned and I’ll be waiting. The life with you is the one I want. Now you make a choice, but be sure it’s the one you want for yourself, not what others are telling you to do. And whatever that choice is, I will respect it”

“Yeah, that sounds like something Papa would say”

“My darling, you need to follow your heart. At least get some closure if this is really over. But if she’s really the one you want… fight for her”

“I don’t even know where to begin” Wanda sighs.

“Just find her, the rest will come along”

“Give the boys a kiss for me?”

“One for each” her mother promises, hanging up.

It’s not too late, as Wanda saw some people still at the salon.

She walks out of her room, straight to where the gala is happening.

“Excuse me, could I see your invitation?” a man stops her.

“Oh, I… I don’t have any. I just need to talk to someone inside. It will only take a minute”

“I’m afraid I can’t let you…”

“It’s alright” Natasha says, appearing behind Wanda. “She can come inside, I know her”

The man at the door nods, allowing Wanda to pass.

“She’s over there” Natasha points at you, leaning against the bar and drinking from a glass full of whisky. “Will regret those last few drinks tomorrow morning”

“Thank you” Wanda says, nodding towards Natasha. She’s still not sure how she feels about you and the Russian working together.

But it’s none of her business what you do with other people.

“Hey, Y/N”

You do a doble take, wondering if you’re way too drunk and imagining Wanda’s in front of you.

“Hey, hi. How’s Lily?”

“Good. Her boyfriend was there, they were calling family. Preparing for everything”

“Sounds nice”

“Could we talk?” Wanda asks, before she loses her nerve. “Unless you’re busy”

“No, that’s fine” you down the last of your drink and stand up from the stool. “Let’s go”

Wanda decides it would be nice to get a capuccino from a coffee place nearby. You walk with her, noticing she is definitely not wearing the appropriate coat for this weather.

“Here” you offer yours.

“No, I don’t want you getting sick”

“It’s to protect my hoodie, obviously” you joke and she finally accepts it.

“Remember Wendy Lawson?” Wanda asks.

“The author? Yes, the one who went to give a talk to your school and make you consider writing for the first time”

Of course you remember.

“Well, it’s the woman that was standing right there in the middle of Lily’s room. And she offered me a job to illustrate her new book”

“Hey, that’s huge, congratulations” you say as you open the door to the coffee shop, noticing how warmer and nicer it is inside. You order a hot cocoa, while Wanda gets her own coffee.

“I’ll just have to travel back and forth for a bit”

“But the kids…”

“My mother is in town” Wanda clarifies. There’s so much to tell you, but you’re here, walking next to her, offering your coat and smiling at Wanda. Everything’s a mess in her head.

“So that’s why you are not in town” you joke. “I do hope things are better between you two”

“Well, it’s been a whole thing. But listen, that job is not the only reason I came to Boston” Wanda admits once you’re walking back to the hotel. “I wanted to speak to you”

“Oh, right” you say, scared that she’s here to hand over your stuff and make sure you never have to see each other again.

“Y/N, this last month has been… so bad for me. I can’t stop thinking about you, about those horrible things I said. About how I punished you beyond reason for something that wasn’t your fault. I was angry and instead of processing it, I let it out in childish ways to hurt you. Because I thought it was a way to get even”

“Wanda, you weren’t the only one that screwed up. I didn’t set boundaries with Nat. And then made you feel insane when you pointed it out” you sigh, looking at your feet. “I don’t know. Maybe we should have given this a bit of a break after that, instead of rushing back to the same routine, pretending nothing hapened”

“Well, now we had a break. An entire month to think about it, and I thought about it, even when I tried not to. Y/N, I love you. And I want… I want our future together”

You sigh, thinking about it.

Isn’t this exactly what you wanted? Getting Wanda back.

But you made the same mistake last time. You simply said you were sorry and jumped back in.

“Do you ever think we rushed things?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean we kinda started dating, and I spent every moment in your house because I lived across the street. And then coparenting. I love the kids but I hate myself for hurting them when we broke up”

“So…” Wanda stops outside the hotel, looking at you. She can’t read you right now; all the things you said so far make sense, but they could be arguments to either work on your relationship or call it quits.

“So… let’s date. For a bit” you decide. “Because if we go back to how everything was, and the twins get their hopes up…”

If I get my hopes up.

“That makes sense” Wanda nods.

“But there’s one thing you should know. I work with Natasha and live in the same building as her. I’m not saying we’re best friends or spend every moment together, but we’re in the same room a lot of times”

“I get it. And I appreciate the heads up”

“Alright then. Let's take it slow, then” you nod, walking towards her. “You should head back inside and get some rest”

“What about you?”

“I’ll take a cab home”

“My room’s big enough…”

You interrupt Wanda with a small laugh, walking so close that your lips are inches apart.

“I said slow, Miss Maximoff”

“Since when are you immune to my puppy eyes?” Wanda huffs, crossing her arms.

“I’m not” you shake your head. "Which is why you should really go inside. Now”

Wanda’s eyes travel to your lips and you lean forward, until… you kiss the corner of her mouth.

“Trust me, it will be worth the wait” you smile against her temple.

“Goodnight, Y/N”

“Night, Wands”

[starboye]

pairing: nate jacobs x male reader

request: Nate Jacobs learns that Male reader is a new student, and he tries to have a one-night stand with him or something, but male reader immediately shows his dislike towards Nate. This catches Nate off guard, and he tries to "be friends" with him, but Male reader declines or simply walks away from Nate causing Nate to be furious and more determined to get in bed with him, however, Nate soon realizes he catches feelings for Male reader and wants to him to be his boyfriend?

warnings: fluff, mentions of sex, cursing, kissing

you had just moved to california after your dad got a big promotion so of course you were the new student at east highland highschool, you heard some good and bad things about it (mostly bad things) but nonetheless you went and of course they assigned you a school guide, some guy named nate jacobs and immediately he wanted you.

he showed you around the school, showing you the great wonders that came with the highschool in the most monotone voice but from time to time he'd glance over to admire your ass, that luscious ass he wanted to fuck so badly "hey wanna come to a party, its happening later tonight if you wanna swing by" nate asks trying to appear nonchalant "yeah id be down" you say mimicking his nonchalant.

and with that you and nate finished the tour and said good bye to each other, but for some reason you couldn't escape nates mind, no matter how hard he tried to think of something else the thought of you always bounced around in his mind, was it maybe that he actually liked you no impossible he just wants to fuck you that's it nate lied to himself as the bell rang and school ended.

you entered the house party to the sound of loud ruckus, people yelling, and music blaring, with the overwhelming smell of alcohol, but luckily you noticed nate as he waved you over "50 bucks says i fuck this slut by the end of the night" nate says to his friends as you walk closer "ill take that bet" mckay says before nate walks over to you "wanna get some drinks" nate asks leaning over to near your ear so you could hear him better "yeah sure" you yell back before walking over to a more quiet part of the house.

"so what's a sweet thing like you doing here all alone" nate asks sipping on his drink as you lean onto a wall "no friends" you reply looking up at him with disinterested eyes "well wanna make a friend tonight" nate smirks placing his hand beside you head on the wall and leaning over you "is this your way of flirting" you ask snickering a bit.

"what" nate questions leaning back up "if you wanna sleep with me just ask" you chuckle taking another sip of your drink "well then wanna have sex with me" nate asks thinking he's about to easily win his bet but his hopes are killed when you respond with no "why don't you wanna sleep with me" he asks "because you look like a total douche" you say before walking away to get another drink, nate watched as your fine ass walked away from him, he was now determined to have sex with you.

after that day you caught him watching you, whether that be in his truck as you walked home from school or from afar while you were doing school work, he'd even sometimes buy you expansive gifts with handwritten notes that you're sure he got from pinterest but you shut him down every time "c'mon just once" nate pleas "no nate, not now and not ever" you say giving him the diamond bracelet back and walking away as he was forced to watch that ass walk away for the hundredth time.

nate sat up at night wondering why he wanted you so much, why he needed to sleep with you so badly, was it because he felt something deeper for you and wanted to try and push that feeling out by sleeping with you but it would inevitably come back up... no it couldn't possibly be that, but the thought was to much, he got up and drove to your house in the middle of the night.

"you up" nate texted your number (he had got it from you on the first day of school) "what do you want" you text back "come outside" he texts, you look outside to see his truck on the other side of the street and huff before putting on some clothes and walking out to his car, seeing him with a little smile on his face you get into the passenger seat "what do you want nate" you ask slightly agitated as nate just woke you up.

"okay so i- ive been thinking right and... i don't know how to say this but..." nate stammers over his words making you even more annoyed "just spit it out" you say leaning over the arm rest to kiss him, his lips lightly chasing after yours "uhm i was gonna ask will you be my boyfriend" nate nervously asks "yes" you smile finally seeing the nate that isn't a sex hungry animal "so does that mean we can fuck now" nate asks.

"one step at a time you horny fuck" you say before opening the door to get out the car but nate pulls you back one last time to kiss you, this kiss more passionate and heartfelt than the last, maybe fucking him wouldn't be the worst thing ever

taglist: @spermeboy @mailmango @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat

[imsofreakingtired]

Can you write some sick or extremely hangover Sevika hcs, please?🥹 She deserves some comforting too

yes!!!! FOREVER DEPRIVED of reader comforting sevika

sevika hurt/comfort hcs ❤️‍🩹

(the timeline for these hcs is all jumbled up... some are s1!sevika hcs and some are councilor!sevika hcs, i think you could infer from context

never catches any airborne illness because her immune system is made of steel. gets stress fevers though. poor girl is so overworked. you were standing next to her one day in the office going through some documents and just felt the heat radiating off her skin. her hand is literally trembling from fatigue yet she just stays laser-focused on the task as if her life depends on it. “Sevika, I think you’re running a fever.” “Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t have time for a fever.” [Steps back. Passes out the very next minute.] “FUCK. SEVIKA!” 

when she gets said fevers you wrestle her into bed and press cold compresses to her forehead. stroke her hair and try to get her to sleep. she’s always restless and stressed out about the work she’s missing, the tasks she’s letting pile up by taking a break. more than once you have seriously considered just locking her in the room because she keeps fucking getting up the second your back is turned. could be half-blind from the fever, stumbling and barely able to see two feet ahead of her, and she’s mumbling something about a deal with some chem-baron she needs to complete for Silco 

in the cold weather her residual shoulder aches to the point where she can’t sleep so you stay up half the night massaging her shoulder with soothing oil just so she can get some rest (she hates the winter for this reason, but now that she has you to take care of her she can stand it a little better)

some days she just goes quiet and sad, she's remembering too much or thinking too much and is overwhelmed by the emotions now that she has the quiet and leisure time and has no escape from past traumas. breaks down without warning or snaps at you. you just give her space and leave hot tea on her desk. and at night she comes wordlessly to you in bed and lays her head in your lap and you rub her back until she falls asleep 

the repercussions from the head trauma she took in her fighting days catch up to her after the shimmer fully leaves her system and makes her prone to migraines. on these days you force her to stay home from the council and make her lie still with the shades down and make her cold drinks 

back pain :(( I mean look at her. look at the enormous mech arm she lugs around in s2 like all that catches up with her eventually and fucks up her spine. tried to hide it from you as long as she could until her back gave out one day and you just found her on the floor in agony. since then she has learned not to try to lift heavy things in your sight or you will unleash all hell on her "you're not as young as you once were, don't scare me like that again."

seems to be. allergic to sleep???? or taking care of herself in general??? on very, very rare days off when she’s able to catch a few extra hours you keep the shades drawn to try to let her rest as long as possible. she’s a deep sleeper but instinctively jolts awake at loud noises. one time some idiot shouting outside the window woke her up and you were ready to go down and kill a bitch

she pretends to be annoyed by your constant worrying, grumbling that she can look after herself just fine. but it secretly warms her, because before she met you there was no one to wrap up her injuries after a fight, no one to force her into bed when she was overworked, no one to make her soup and hot tea when she was ill, no one to run hot baths for her tired muscles at the end of the day - no one who cared even, whether she was okay or not, alive or dead.

amazed, secretly, that you stick around. that you seem to want to look after her. wonders if she truly deserves you. and every day, you show her that she does. you're attuned to the smallest signs of her discomfort, the faintest hints that she is feeling under the weather, because she'd never tell you outright. she sees you pick up on the signs and it is more reassurance than any verbal promise could bring.

[sanjisleggy]

a chance at reconciliation (sir crocodile x reader)

req: I was wondering 💭…If you could do something for Crocodile. I was thinking of something along the lines of where the reader is a warlord but she’s also the ex-wife of Crocodile, like they had a fallout and never actually properly talked about it. So maybe they make up somehow and discuss things? I don’t know something like that 😭

a/n: gonna try to be more relaxed and freeform with some requests so they don’t sit too long in my inbox! if you have any feedback on this bullet point/scenario combo type of format (whether you like it/hate it/have any suggestions to improve it) let me know!

contents: a little bit of angst/hurt, some fluff, soft!crocodile 

wc. 1.5k

wanna be on my taglist?

you initially decline the Marines’ request for you to relocate to Alabasta in order to keep an eye on Crocodile. though you’ve been a Warlord for quite a few years now, you’re still the newest addition to the group so the Marines tend to twist your arm a bit more if they really want you to do something. they don’t do it often but this time they go so far as to threaten to revoke your Warlord status so you begrudgingly give in, knowing they only chose you because you’re legally still his wife

you’d split up before the Eight Warlords was even a thing but since neither of you bothered to legally divorce, you’re technically still his spouse. you’re not sure if the Marines thinks that’ll make you more or less inclined to snitch on him but you don’t really care. at most you’ll go say hi before fucking off to whatever penthouse suite’s available to buy, the nicer the better–Alabasta’s a beautiful country but even you can smell something fishy’s happening behind the scenes and you’d prefer to stay indoors as much as possible

when you arrive at Alabasta you head straight for Rain Dinners, deciding it best to just get the ordeal over with ASAP. although you left on bitter terms, you can’t deny you still harbour some feelings for the man. he was your childhood sweetheart, after all, which is especially why you’re still somewhat bitter over how easily he let you go

Crocodile smells you before he sees you; or, more specifically, the familiar scent of your favourite perfume triggers something deep in his chest before he even realises you’re here. effortlessly keeping his cool in front of the Alabastian businessmen he’s chatting with, he scans the casino and nearly chokes on his cigar when his eyes meet yours.

you look older now but time has been kind to you. you’ve aged so gracefully it’s no wonder he recognises you right away despite having spent so long apart. he’d spent his growing-up years seeing your face almost daily, after all. 

you maintain eye contact for a mere second before breaking it and making your way to the end of the bar, hips swaying in a way he just knows will attract attention sooner or later. even after 15 years, you know how to get what you want from him–or is the truth just that you’d gotten him wrapped around your finger a long, long time ago and he simply never let go?

whatever it is, Crocodile excuses himself, much to the visible disappointment of the two young ladies who’d been glued to his sides for hours now, and makes his way over to the bar. he claims the only vacant seat beside you before anyone else can even consider the idea and pulls out a fresh cigar.

“fancy seeing you here, dear.” the term of endearment escapes his lips so easily any onlooker would assume you’re still actively together. it’s very unlike him to slip up in such a juvenile manner but he hides the fact that it was a complete accident extremely well, hoping, fruitlessly, that you wouldn’t comment on it.

“bold of you to call me your ‘dear’, Sir Crocodile.” you take a sip of your drink but not without shooting the handsome bartender a wink first. Crocodile immediately dismisses him and makes a mental note to hire a new one tomorrow.

“that’s a shame,” you lament as you watch the bartender leave his post, “i was planning on having a bit more than just a drink tonight.”

“why’re you here?” he asks pointedly. “surely not for sentimental reasons, especially since you’re a Warlord as well now.”

“i’m surprised you even know that,” you shoot back, the slight sharpness in your voice betraying any attempt to hide the hurt in your chest. you’d long buried it somewhere so far away you thought it was out of reach and yet here you are, feeling the heartbreak claw its way up your throat the moment you see Crocodile in person again. “funny how being apart for so long seems to make it easier for you to keep up with my life.”

it’s a low blow but he can’t deny the truth in what you just said. it was easy for him to neglect your relationship back when he was shooting up the ranks as a pirate, he’d taken your loyalty for granted and only realised his mistake when it was too late. 

eventually his name became known all throughout the seas and he was even offered the position of Warlord by the World Government themselves. the power tasted sweet on his tongue–it still does–and yet on some nights he wondered if the price he paid was a bit too high. it’s been many years but even now Crocodile sometimes finds himself turning to his right to ask you for your opinion, only to remember you’d long since detached yourself from him in pursuit of a more fulfilling life. 

nothing could have prepared him for your rise to Warlord status, though. Crocodile had always known you were extremely capable, he was simply never aware how huge your ambitions could get.

“i really let you slip away that easily, huh?” he wonders aloud, much to your confusion. 

“i’m not entirely sure what to say to that,” you answer honestly. it wasn’t like him to speak so sentimentally and, truth be told, you were expecting a bit more hostility from him during such a sudden reunion. “to answer your question, though,” you continue, keeping your eyes glued to the single ice cube floating in your drink, “the World Government wants me to snitch on you and your little operation.”

without even looking at him, you can pretty much see the way he’s quirking an eyebrow.

“i know all about your little organisation going on here in Alabasta.” you tear your eyes away from your glass and tilt your head up just enough to see his face, only to find he’s already staring right at you. has he been looking at you this entire time? “all your little code names, your agenda, your Millions and Billions.”

to your surprise, Crocodile smirks.

“would i be wrong to assume you were feeling a little sentimental coming up with the name ‘Baroque Works’?” you ask, not breaking eye contact.

“you always loved Vivaldi, my dear,” he answers simply, his smirk softening into a smile. he hadn’t felt his lips move in such a way in a long time, it was always reserved exclusively for you, after all.

“still do.” you look away once more, now hyper aware of the fact that he’s still staring at you.

for a few minutes, the two of you sit in a comfortable silence only interrupted by the goings-on of the casino around you. after taking the final sip of your drink, you opt to play with the glass, running your index finger through the droplets of condensation. 

you’re not entirely sure what it is you want to happen anymore. prior to arriving here, you’d been so confident that this would be a quick and easy meeting. you’d say hi and leave; and yet here you are, drawing the affair out as long as you can, it seems.

“are you waiting for me to say something, dear?” Crocodile asks, not even bothering to forgo the pet name at this point. “do you expect me to go down on my knees and beg you to leave my operation alone?” he nearly taunts.

“you and i both know that’s not really my style.”

“a lot can change in fifteen years.”

“a lot can stay the same, too, don’t you think, Mr Zero?”

without warning, he reaches out to brush his fingers through your hair, sending warm tingles down your spine like it always used to do all those years ago. Crocodile trails his hand back up, brushing his fingertips past your neck before settling his large palm against your cheek. unable to help the smile stretching across your face, you let yourself indulge in the warmth of his hand as your eyelids flutter closed.

“what could i have done to make you stay?” he murmurs, rubbing the pad of his thumb across your skin. your own hand rises up to lay over his to keep it in place as you nuzzle into his palm and the Warlord feels a dull ache in his chest. 

“you know i just wanted some of your time and attention,” you reply softly, keeping your eyes closed and your face resting in the palm of his hand. Crocodile nods even though he knows you can’t see it.

“and if i were to offer both of those to you now?” he suggests and for the first time in decades he feels anxious.

“you seem as busy as always, if not more, actually.” you hum thoughtfully. “don’t you have important business to attend to?”

“would you believe me if i said i’m much more capable of separating my work from my personal affairs now?” you let out a soft laugh and the sound soothes his nerves almost instantly.

“i could be,” you reply, eyes fluttering back open to meet his own, “with some convincing, that is.” 

“very well.”

Crocodile decides to start by bringing your hand to his lips and pressing an uncharacteristically tender kiss to the back of it; and from the way your smile widens, he believes he might just succeed. 

gen taglist: @irethepotato @i-reblog-fics-i-like @grierpilots @appalost @hyper-fic-ation @dressycobra7 @38lyra38 @chaseyui @paraparakiss @krooschl @teewon @olliesoxenfree @misstraffy @riftmage27 @aletch

[tan1shere]

Tattoos

A/n: Was just listening to Agora Hills when I just had to write a little something about it - sorry if this isn't the best. Have this while I work on her favorite. I didn't know what to do at the end 😔

Warnings - smuttyish content ?! || masterlist

You thought you hid it well but you guess not. You were currently on your way home from a long shift at work. It was currently 8 pm. You open the door to your home and head in. You see her standing there infront of you, loose sweats and a loose button up shirt. She had done a few things today so probably just wanted to be comfortable with that and the sweatpants on. You look at her confused on why she's just standing there. "Hi babe." You say with caution. "Licking on her tattoos, or even my own." Whyd that sound so familiar.

"Maybe hitting and smacking too." Your face stays the same, utterly confused. "Hello to you to?" You walk further in when she flashes a black book. Your sex book. It was just some silly thing you had written in for laughs, even if deep down those were some actual fantasies of yours. "Oh..." How'd she even find it. You don't even remember where you last put it, it had been that long. "Got home earlier today and wanted to clean our room a bit. Then found this. Is it true?" You didn't know whether to feel embarrassed or nervous.

Her head tilts at you and that's when your nerves kicked in. Billie would never ever make you feel embarrassed over anything. "They might be." You fiddle with your fingers. "Yeah? You wanna lick my tattoos? The one on my spine." Your throat closes that was the exact one you were thinking of. That and the one on her upper. Upper. Thigh. "Where else?" She walks over to you slowly. "I uhm.. uh-" "My thigh one?" You look into her eyes, hers were droopy. "You didn't read it all right?" She smirks.

How dumb could you be right now. "Sure did baby. Got some interesting desires in here." Your head spins at the closeness, her lips being so close to your own. "You know, I think I wanna lick on that one tattoo of yours. You know what one I'm talking about. It's almost like mine." You gulp loudly. You had a tramp stamp on your lower back, she was talking about that. "You can.." You quietly utter. "Can I?" Her tone was mocking. You stay quiet. "I mean, i was planning to do so anyway." Then suddenly you were being slung over her shoulder. Heading straight for the bedroom. She lays you down, hovering over you hungrily.

Your breath catches as she hastily takes your pants off. Her hands reach to lift your shirt up a bit. "Bills." You sigh out, really wanting to be the one to kiss her dragon tat. "Patience, I'll give you what you want." You let out an annoyed whine, wanting to now. "Hey hey, don't be like that. Just want to admire you first. Then I'm all yours." You nod slowly, taking in her words. Calming down just slightly as her fingers run over your body. But you get impatient again.

"Baby let me lick on your tattoos."

She smirks at you as you say that, grabbing your waist and flipping you so you're straddling her. Your hands retract to the sides of her stomach. She smiles up at you. "Go on then, take my pants off." You gladly obey, starting to pull them both off. Your eyes land right on the tattoo, big and beautiful. Her hand cups your jaw. Swiping some drool that had escaped in the process. "Look at you, such a mess already and we haven't even started. Cute." She smirks at you, loving how your face relaxes into your hand like putty. "Go on baby, know you're dyin for it."

You nod yet again, moving your face to her thigh, your tongue darting out and licking slightly over the ink. She watches you intently, moving her hand into your hair, lacing it throughout. "That's it.." She says more so to herself. But you clearly hear it. Going mental inside. It made you wonder what else she'd be willing to do in the dumb little book of yours. Your tongue eagerly moves all over the dragon, slowly becoming dazed as you can smell her so close, your head moves. Going to just have a little lick but she grabs your face. "Just the tattoo." She was messing with you.

She knew how badly you wanted to taste her with your raging oral fixation. "But please.. The smells going to my head." You whine. She chuckles at you, faking a sad look. "Naww, is it making that stupid brain go fuzzy?" Another nod. "Shame, tattoo. Keep doing what you were doing." She was so tempting, you just wanted to have a little lick of her. But you adored how much she was enjoying the show of your licks on her tattoo. It was different for the both of you, something simple yet still effective. "There you go, so good at listening huh?" Your teeth retract going to bite, she lets out a breath but she sure as hell enjoyed the action. Biting her lip in the process.

You may not of gotten a taste of her that night but she got a taste of an amazing show.

[gyummigon]

☆ txt when you stain the bed because of your period

txt!reader

୨୧ word count:  2.5k  ୨୧ genre:  fluff, angust ୨୧ a/n: inglish is not my native language, so sorry in advance.

˗ˏˋ yeonjun ˎˊ˗

You were in the middle of a fit of despair when Yeonjun entered the room. He had intended to surprise you by bringing you breakfast in bed before you woke up, but stopped when he saw you standing in the middle of the room, awake and about to burst into tears.

"Oh, good morning," he greeted, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he sensed the panic with which you looked at him. Slowly, he scanned the room with eyes wider than usual, but his brow furrowed even more when he found nothing out of the ordinary. "Why are you standing there, is something wrong?"

You shook your head, glancing sideways at the red stain that had awakened you in horror that morning. You hadn't even had time to clean the mess off your clothes, and you hated the fact that you couldn't move without risking your boyfriend seeing the worst of you. Even though you knew that Yeonjun wouldn't judge you for such a thing, you couldn't suppress the desire to disappear and send your soul to the other side of the world.

Yeonjun read your body language and the gesture did not go unnoticed, he approached you curiously, craning his neck to see what was troubling you. "Heh," he exclaimed as he looked at the unexpected red circle painted over the spot where you had been sleeping minutes before. "Is that...?"

You let out an embarrassed groan and looked down at the floor, your face flushed. "I'm sorry," you whispered and squeezed your legs together, suddenly feeling exposed and completely vulnerable.

Yeonjun let out a soft laugh as he placed the tray of food on the bedside table and walked over to you with a gentle smile. "Oh, did that wake you, dear?" he murmured, leaning down to massage your shoulders. "It's just a little blood, no big deal. Let me clean it up for you."

Without another word he turned and started to remove the sheets from the bed, his movements were calm and he didn't seem to be affected by your little accident in the least. This for some reason made you feel even more embarrassed and you remained unable to look away from him, not knowing whether to apologize again or take advantage of the fact that his back was turned to escape to the bathroom. When he noticed that you didn't move, Yeonjun stopped and looked at you over his shoulder. "Go ahead and get cleaned up, I'll be here if you need anything."

"It's okay, I'm sure you're disgusted, I'll do it myself." You said and moved to take the sheet out of his hands, but Yeonjun stepped back.

"It doesn't gross me out," he replied, shaking his head with a flirtatious smile. "God, you're so cute."

"But I..."

Yeonjun put his finger to his lips, signaling you to shut up and stop talking. "You really should get cleaned up and changed," he murmured as he turned around and finished removing the sheets. His words were delivered with a smile, his tone soft and reassuring. "I'll have the bed clean before you've had a chance to finish showering, then we'll have a nice breakfast."

˗ˏˋ soobin ˎˊ˗

"Oh my God," Soobin's face turned bright red as he looked at the stain on the bed and on your shorts. He had just woken up, he was still half asleep and had a hard time processing what had happened.

Your body was lying next to him, your face buried in the pillow that covered part of your face as you slept. You didn't seem to be aware of the situation. One of your arms was draped over your head, giving you a very calm and peaceful appearance. He couldn't allow you to continue sleeping in this state, but he knew how sensitive you were to this kind of accident, so he thought twice before making any move.

"Woah, this... " He stood up carefully, not wanting to alarm you. He stood still for a moment, wondering how to make it look like he didn't care that you were having your period in bed. Should he wake you up, say good morning, or let you sleep on? I had no idea how to handle such a situation.

You slowly opened your eyes as you felt him shake your shoulders. "Are you okay?" Soobin murmured, his voice still hoarse and tired. He looked down at the stains again, unable to help himself. "You had a little accident, honey."

"What?" you asked, your eyes still watery from sleep. With a look of confusion on your face, you looked down at the stained sheets and quickly understood what had happened, but felt too ashamed and embarrassed to say anything coherent right away. "I... oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't think I'd be starting again so soon. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'll change the sheets right away."

Soobin couldn't help but laugh a little when he saw how embarrassed you were. Anyway, he gave you a kiss on the cheek and cuddled you a little against his chest to comfort you before helping you out of bed. "It's okay, I promise. I'm not mad at you. It's totally normal. I'll change the sheets and then I can make you some tea."

"L-let me help you!" You exclaimed as Soobin began to remove the sheets and blankets from the bed, revealing the stain under the mattress. You froze at the sight of the blood on the mattress and felt your stomach drop. "Oh my God," you muttered, staring at the stain. "Is the mattress ruined?"

"Hey, don't worry, really," Soobin said again, trying to sound reassuring. But seeing your embarrassment made him nervous, and he didn't know how to handle the situation. He tried to focus on the task at hand. "Let me wash the sheets and we'll see what we can do..." He grabbed the sheets from the bed and headed for the laundry room, giving you room to process what had happened.

˗ˏˋ beomgyu ˎˊ˗

"Beomgyu, stay out of the room," you shouted as you looked at the sheets with an expression of pure horror. You knew something was wrong when you woke up with the familiar stabbing pain in your belly, at first you went into denial and refused to believe that the wetness you felt between your legs was a product of your period, but when you got out of bed and saw the blood stained sheets, you took it for granted that this was going to be a very, very long day.

At least you were lucky that Beomgyu was in the bathroom and not in the bedroom when you woke up. But if only he'd listen to you for once.....

"What, why, I'm coming in."

"I told you to stay outside," you repeated as you saw him enter the room. You shivered slightly and couldn't help but feel embarrassed at the thought of someone seeing the mess and stain on your sheets. Beomgyu came over and stood next to you, showing her surprise at seeing the red stain on the bed.

"Woah, that... that's a big one. Did that really come from you?"

You gave him a nasty look, the embarrassment more than you could bear. You wanted him to go away, to leave the room, but you knew Beomgyu well enough to know how unlikely that would be.

"Yes, it's... it's from me," you whispered. "It's... it's my period," you added embarrassed and Beomgyu looked at you as if you were a stranger.

"I know, silly," he laughed and reached up to ruffle your hair, giving you a playful smile. "I can't believe Missy made such a mess," he joked, walking over to the edge of the bed. "Anyway, let's get this cleaned up. I doubt you want a permanent stain on this fancy bed."

Your face turned red at his teasing. You examined your stained sheets and felt your eyes fill with tears for no reason. "Please, Beomgyu, go away. Please, I'll clean up by myself."

"Hey, hey, relax, what's the big deal? It's no big deal, I swear. Leave it to me, I'll take care of it," he replied, now in a lighter and friendlier tone.

The embarrassment you felt about your body and the fact that your menstruation had made itself known in such a way faded as you saw the compassion and naturalness with which Beomgyu looked at you. You nodded weakly and silently thanked her.

"Am I not an adult?" he muttered to himself as he took the wet sheets and wrapped them in his arms. You tried to approach him to help him, but Beomgyu waved you away with his hands. "No, no, no, go take a shower and come back later. I'll take this and..." He paused and leaned over to take a closer look at the stain that had also been left on the mattress.

"Oh, that..."

"Wait, wait, wait," he interrupted, turning to look at you with a smile that, instead of reassuring you, made you nervous. "Don't worry about the stain. I'll turn the mattress over and no one will notice." He bent down and grabbed the corner of the mattress, ready to lift it up and flip it over, but stopped when he noticed you looking at him in horror.

"Okay miss, time to take a shower while I do my job," he said and walked over to you. Smiling, he put his arm around your shoulder and led you out of the room. "Come on, my little mess maker."

˗ˏˋ taehyun ˎˊ˗

"Are you okay?" Taehyun asked in a hoarse voice, opening one eye to look at the clock. It was 4 am and he could hear you pacing frantically around the room, muttering curses under your breath. He heard you approach the bed and took the opportunity to go back to sleep, but it wasn't more than ten seconds before your silence startled him. "Y/n?"

"Everything's fine. But..." You groaned and struggled with how to explain the little surprise painted on the sheets, staring at his back in panic and swallowing saliva. It was the first time this had happened to you in his presence and you didn't know how to handle the situation the way it should have been handled.

When Taehyun saw that you didn't continue talking, he turned to you and you silently pointed at the spot next to him. He followed the direction of your finger and looked quickly into your eyes, trying to hide his surprise and not make you feel more embarrassed than you seemed to be.

"I guess this was unplanned," he said calmly, as if talking to himself. "We'll have to clean that up."

Your cheeks turned bright red and you did your best not to let the intensity of his gaze affect you. Taehyun's newly awakened eyes made it harder and you couldn't think of the right words to say, so you just nodded silently.

He mimicked your action. After getting out of bed and putting on a t-shirt, he turned back to you and looked at the stain out of the corner of his eye. "It's no big deal though," he said, giving you a small smile. "No need to be embarrassed about a perfectly normal biological function."

"Thanks, but actually I can do it myself," you replied in a whisper, the thought of him having to clean up your mess making you very uncomfortable.

"I know you can," Taehyun said, still speaking in a calm, neutral tone. "But I'll do it myself." He bent down to pick up the sheets, his movements quick and efficient as he left the room. After a few minutes he returned with clean sheets and a damp cloth, which he used to clean the stain on the mattress. He worked in silence, his face still sleepy.

Without even knowing how to speak, you approached him and left a gentle touch on his back. "I'm... going to take a shower. I'm sorry and... thank you."

"There's nothing to be sorry for," he replied without turning to look at you. He stood in front of the mattress for a few more seconds, quietly wiping the stain and putting the clean sheets back on the bed. After a moment he looked up and said, "You should take a shower. I'll be done before you know it."

˗ˏˋ huening kai ˎˊ˗

When Kai saw the look on your face when you saw him, the enthusiasm with which he entered the room faded. You were leaning over the bed, trying to pull back the sheets, the stains on which made it impossible for you to sleep again this morning. The fact that your friend returned from the kitchen faster than expected prevented you from avoiding this embarrassing situation.

Kai jumped back in surprise when he realized what was going on. His eyes widened in shock as he didn't know what to say or how to react. "Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no!" he said, his voice high-pitched and full of panic as he stumbled into the room. "What are we going to do? Did this come unexpectedly?"

"Yes, I'm sorry," you said in panic and embarrassment. "I'll, I'll take care of it, get out of here."

"No, no, I won't leave you!" Kai said, a mixture of exaggeration and concern in his voice. "I'll just... we'll fix it. We'll clean it up. It's okay, we'll take care of it." He began to pull the sheets off the bed, his movements frantic and unsteady as he tried to remove them quickly. Once the sheets were off, he looked down at the mattress, his eyes widening like saucers when he saw the stain.

"The damn thing's still there," you exclaimed as you looked at the scene in disbelief, your voice changing from panic to horror.

"No problem, we'll fix it. Relax," Kai said, trying to sound reassuring as he frantically searched his brain for an answer and you covered your face in embarrassment. "Let's do this, I'll clean up while you shower and when you come out, we can change the sheets," Kai continued, shaking his head. "I don't know what to say, but it's not a problem, I'm here to help you. I'll, well, I'll clean this up and you go take a shower, okay?"

[fallstaticexit]

Prev / Next / Beginning / Pillowfort

AN: Source for tarot reading

Transcript under the cut

Morgan: Ever done this before?

Nancy: Can’t say that I have.

Morgan: Are you as put off about this as that other bible thumper?

Nancy: [rolls eyes] We’re not all the same. I’m more than my faith.

Morgan: I don’t doubt that. I’m sure there’s many layers to you. Where are you from?

Nancy: Brindleton Bay.

Morgan: Really, I’m from Portridge, a small town south of the Bay. Originally.

Nancy: Yeah? So, how did you end up a Fyres?

Morgan: Great question. My mom was his secretary. Super scandalous shit, which would explain while the Royal Barbie hates my guts. He’s not a bad step dad though. Hell of lot better than my actual dad. So, your parents-

Nancy: Isn’t the probing developing a bias or something?

Morgan: Just a little small talk. So, is there a question you want answered? Perhaps, a question about your past, your present or your future?

Nancy: I-

Nancy Narrates: [I want to get forget my past. I want to survive my present. I want to escape my future. Could there really be an answer for all that in those cards]

Nancy: I don’t know...

Morgan: That’s ok. You intention will guide us.

Morgan: Pick three cards that call to you. Based on the three, we will see what the cards have to say about your past, present and future.

Nancy: And you believe in this?

Morgan: We believe what we believe in, right? You have your three?

Nancy: I think so..

Morgan: Let’s take a look.

Morgan: Your past—the Upright Fool. Innocence. Curorsity. Something new and exciting—perhaps a first love in your youth that swept you off your feet?

Nancy Narrates: [Already I hated this...]

Morgan: Your present- the Reversed Star. Insecurity. Self doubt. A loss of faith. Interesting. Perhaps a struggle with one’s own faith? Are you having any doubts, Nancy? About yourself? About your God?

Morgan: Your future- the Upright Devil. Lust. Obsession. Temptation. Could be for the material things of life, or maybe a desire of the flesh.

Nancy: [clears throat] That all seems incredibly vague.

Morgan: [grins] Does it? Your poker face could use some work. Let me ask you something. Who exactly did I remind you of? Someone from your past?

Morgan: Your silence is very telling. I have a real gift for reading people.

Nancy: I’m sure you believe you do.

Morgan: [laughs] I really do!

Morgan: Tightly wound, fidgeter. You bite the hell out of your nails, right at the skin on the tips of your fingers, unconsciously. You pick at it until it bleeds. It’s the only thing that’s keeping you tethered to your own body. The pain, that is.

Morgan: Right?

Geoffrey: You made it! And making friends! Sorry, am I interrupting girl talk?

Morgan: It’s cool, boy wonder. Want me to do your reading?

Geoffrey: Are you kidding? Of course I do!

Nancy: Actually, I think I want to g-

Geoffrey: Really quick, Nance, then I’ll walk you to your dorm!

Geoffrey: Upright Death for my future sounds kind of scary when you think about it, huh? She said it could mean profound change. Sounds promising.

Nancy: [tsks] That could mean literally anything. That whole practice strives on vagueness. You can never be wrong if you’re bound to be right.

Geoffrey: Yeah, but it’s about how you perceive it, right? It’s unique. She did yours, didn’t she? What did yours say?

Nancy: Yeah, I um, don’t remember.

Geoffrey: Maybe you can ask her again. You two seem to hit it off.

Nancy: [huffs] Please. I am not going back to that shabby bar. She’s a sham. Those cards mean nothing. It’s stupid.

Geoffrey: [sighs]

Nancy: What?

Geoffrey: [blows raspberries]

Nancy Narrates: [Truth was, I was more curious than anything]

Nancy: So. Those cards. Could they...I don’t know- tell me something that could happen in a week? Like if I asked if I’ll pass my Statistics exam?

Nancy Narrates: [I was completely captivated by this otherworldly experience, whether I’d admit it outloud or not]

Nancy Narrates: [and Morgan was always happy to indulge me]

Nancy: [whispers] So I past my exam. How does this even work? I mean, how could they know? The cards. Could you do another reading after the debate?

Nancy Narrates: [But of all the questions I did ask, there was one that burned inside me more]

[heavy metal spills into the hallway]

Morgan: [startled] Nancy?

Nancy: Is this a bad time? I know it’s late...I can come back another time. I just have so much on my mind and I can’t sleep.

Morgan: You want another reading?

Nancy: Is that ok?

Morgan: Of course it is, Nancy. Come in.

Morgan: Sorry for all the smoke. I can open a window.

Knox: Babe, who’s this? It’s not my birthday.

Morgan: [smirks] Want me to get rid of him? I can.

Knox: Hey! I’ll be quiet! Won’t even know I’m here.

Nancy: I don’t mind. I just had a question.

Nancy: Could you do a reading for someone else, even if they’re not here?

Morgan: [hums] Not really...not without their permission or their intention. Who is this person to you?

Nancy: [looks away] Someone from my past. Someone I need to forget but- I can’t.

Morgan: Did this person hurt you?

Nancy: [shakes head] If anything, I hurt them. I ruined them with my... [lowly] um, perversions. I just need to know if they’re ok. If they hate me for it.

Morgan: [softly] I see... Here’s what we’ll do. Just like before, I’ll do a three card spread.

Morgan: Set your intention. Clear your mind. Ask your question. The first card is ‘you’. The middle card is ‘them’. The third card is the relationship.

Nancy Narrates: [‘Vanessa, do you hate me?’ ‘Do you blame me?’ ‘Do you regret loving me?’ ‘Do you know that I never stopped loving you?’]

Nancy Narrates: [‘Do you know that I’m sorry?’ ‘Do you know that I miss you?’ ‘Do you know that I need you?’]

Morgan: [exhales] It says... that you are a filled with love, Nancy, even though the world around you wants to drain you of it. There’s just too much of it inside of you and your friend-

Nancy: [weakly] Vanessa.

Morgan: [smiles] Vanessa. She loves you all the same. She may be experiencing her own hurt in this world, but having loved you keeps her strong. You two brought something bright and beautiful into each other’s lives.

Morgan: You can’t rid her from your life, because she’s apart of you, and...I- I think that’s a love worth fighting for, Nancy.

Nancy: [between gulps] Right. Right, thank you. Thanks, Morgan.

Morgan: Wait, Nancy, you don’t have to leave. It’s ok-

Nancy: It’s fine. I uh- I should go.

[door clicks shut]

Knox: Uhh, did you just make all that up?

Morgan: [weakly] I don’t know why I did that..

[polarisjisung]

LOVE ON THE COURT | 20 ... WITH BENEFITS??

SYNOPSIS | every college student has their struggles, but raising her younger brother has Y/N top of the list, struggling her way through college whilst balancing her academics and basketball captaincy is difficult no doubt and with Jaemin, her ex best friend and captain of the guys basketball team, and his growing one sided hatred towards her, it doesn't seem to be getting any easier

WARNINGS | swearing, sexual innuendos, kys/kms jokes, y/n has daddy issues for the sake of the plot

NOTES | I have no idea why this update took me so long to post I'm so sorry 😭 I don't like making chapters like this too sad (don't worry there's still gonna be some angsty chapters) but I don't want the written stuff on its own bcs that feels too espresso depresso or wtv the phrase is so this is a bit of a longer chap than usual.. anyways if ever you feel bad for y/n, don't worry you're gonna feel worse

19:21, dinner the night before

Y/n shuffles in her seat.

Jaemin greets her with a smile, and though she offers one back, that sinking feeling in her stomach doesn't seem to settle.

Suddenly now that she finds herself face to face with her once best friend, no menus in hand since they'd already given their orders, no way to avoid conversation for just a couple seconds longer, Y/n finds herself at a loss for words.

What was anyone supposed to say in this situation?

Sure a thank you would be ideal, considering Jaemin had somehow managed the impossible, but the words escaped her. Like they rested at the tip of her tongue but she lacked the drive to speak them.

It's not that y/n wasn't grateful, no, she wouldn't be here if she wasn't, in fact she didn't know what it was, what confused her so deeply that she sat there silently. Her thumbs twiddling against one another, as she stared down at the table in front of her.

There was a nagging whisper in her mind, one that cast shadows over her once clear thoughts, leaving her in that haze of uncertainty that she recognised all too well. Recently it was all she could feel around the captain.

Something about this situation in particular makes her palms sweaty and the hairs stand on her neck, every glance at Jaemin feeling like a shadow of what had once been, a reminder of how it had all been lost.

Even just sitting opposite Jaemin isn't simple.

Not at all.

It's like sitting across from a mirror that once reflected shared laughter and secrets, now distorted by fractures of lost trust and unspoken words. She supposed that was the thing about mirrors and shattering. No matter how hard you tried to glue the pieces back together, it would never quite be the same.

Perhaps that's why y/n is lousy in her attempts, grateful to Jaemin but unbothered to express it. The thought that no matter how desperately she hoped, this couldn't be restored. That there was no point in pouring energy into a friendship that would never be resolved.

"So" it's undoubtedly jaemin who breaks the silence, a soft tone to his voice, not quite as gentle as the other night but still warm "are you feeling better? like really okay?"

For a moment she wonders whether she'll break at the sound of his voice like she always had. Would she go back to that point in life where it was so easy to lie, so easy to say she was okay, so easy to pretend, in front of everyone else but never in front of him.

"I'm fine, honestly." She lies.

There's a shy sheepish smile that creeps across her lips and slightly accents her words

Jaemin hasn't seen much of her positivity be directed his way, and seeing this ignites the little hope in him that they could move on from this, from everything.

"You didn't have to work on it without me you know, it was just as much my project as it was yours and you putting in all the effort isn't fair on you."

"You did most of the preliminary stuff anyways, and I really didn't want to ask you because of the other night" Jaemin finally admits, though not willingly, his words extracted more so by her sharp stare and the cold atmosphere.

"Right..." Her attempts at changing the subject, clearly in vain— he really needed to stop asking about the other night. Y/n wasn't sure how much h longer she could hold back the tears, the looming feeling of inadequacy as a guardian still strong. She should have been more careful.

She knows its her turn to speak, opening her mouth to do so.

But again, y/n struggles.

The words play hide and seek in her mind, leaving her to grasp at empty. The atmosphere grows heavy with the weight of unspoken words. Her mind races, a jumble of what to say, thoughts of how easy conversation once was, how effortless it had been, all such a stark contrast to now.

Jaemin watches, a mix of intrigue and concern in his eyes as she contemplates in front of him, quiet but with an expression that spoke volumes.

The silence between them seems to bite louder than any conversation they once held, each dish in front, a reminder of the bitter aftertaste of a friendship turned cold.

"It's just Minjun and I" she breathes out, voice shaky, and Jaemin realises that those nervous cues in her slumped posture and shaking hands had never changed "It's just been the two of us for a while" she whispered. "That's why I was so scared"

Jaemin's hand hovers uncertainly beneath the table, unsure if the gesture would be welcomed or misunderstood, caught in the delicate balance of care and concern.

Admittedly, Jaemin catches himself slightly intrigued, still confused what could have lead to her practically perfectly family turning into this.

But he knows better than to let his curiosity get the best of him.

He wants to stop her, tell her that whatever it is that causes her brows to knit together and her pretty eyes to gloss over isn't something she needs to force herself to talk about, but he doesn't know how.

For a moment he's kicking himself under the table— how had he ever let go of the person who meant so much to him?

Even now, knowing everything she had done, he couldnt help but question why hadn't he tried to get past it then?

At the sight of her downcast features suddenly everything that he once despised her for seemed so trivial.

Jaemin sees himself, a younger, less mature version that stands on the court, hair matted to his forehead from the rain, a ball long forgotten somewhere behind him, cold, betrayed, and so painfully alone. Those burning tear stained cheeks, the harsh whistles of wind, the bitter feeling of failure still clinging to his skin, he remembers it all.

But every feeling he recalls so well, so vividly, is so easily dismissed when her eyes shine with a painful tint, red from the piercing tears that she holds in them.

"My dad" she cuts him off, gaze now avoidant as he grabbed her cold hands in his, "he walked out on us not long after ...whatever hapenned between you and me. He never came back, didn't answer a single call, not even a text, no form of communication except the papers he sent in the mail so I could become Junnie's legal guardian."

I missed you, she wanted to say. I needed you she'd liked to add.

"That's why it's just the two of us now" she said instead, trying to find more words to stop the tears from flowing, like her words were the only thing that could hold them back.

Back then, Y/n remembers vividly the feeling of wanting to fall, to sink, to drown but still somehow keeping her head above the surface to hold on and stay strong for her younger brother. She wondered if Jaemin had been there, would it have been easier? Would she have let herself fall, would she have someone to give her a hand, to pick her back up again and hold her hand through it all? Would things have ended differently?

"I'm sorry" his words weren't new, they weren't special, they were the same as what everybody else would say but the fact that they came from him, Na Jaemin who now stood by her side with his arms wrapped around her, was enough to dissolve the feeling of emptiness.

08:25 present time

Y/n looks over at Minjun, still deep in slumber, smiling before she steps out of the room.

There's way too many toys sprawled out across the living room floor, a blanket she finds herself folding as she subconsciously begins to clean up. Her eyes land on the kitchen counter, wondering what to make for breakfast. She was never particularly good at cooking, but she'd been learning for her brothers sake.

When she gets to the black jacket resting over the couch, it hits her. She catches sight of her puffy eyes in the mirror, and a hand runs through her hair hurriedly.

"Why the fuck did I tell him all of that" she let's out a frustrated sigh, running her hands across her face, "I'm supposed to hate him" she reminds herself, though her tone isn't convincing in the slightest.

"You don't hate him though" Heeseung's voice comes out muffled, the toothbrush between his lips making it difficult to understand his words.

He had been the one to stay over last night, her friends still taking turns to accompany Minjun and her every night since he'd walked out of the apartment, a gesture that made her heart swell. Although up until now she was pretty certain he was still asleep. Clearly not.

"I can't hate him" she sighs, falling back into the couch "is it bad I want to be friends with him again?" she asks, even though Heeseung had retreated to the bathroom to finish brushing his teeth.

Regardless he pokes his head out into the hallway, a sly smirk across his lips "with benefits?"

Y/n rolls her eyes.

He emerges again not long after, smiling from ear to ear "no y/n it's not bad if you want to be friends again" he takes a seat beside her "you can only fight your feelings for so long, let yourself be vulnerable, take the risk and try again" he says, hands resting on both his knees.

"and if you're feeling really risky, you can always—"

"shut up Heeseung" she smiles, lightly pushing against his arm "I guess it is worth a shot though"

"he's right next door anyways so sneaking around won't be hard at all"

"I meant being friends. Just friends." she stands up, walking over to the kitchen "you down for pancakes?"

He nods.

"You know it could be good though, he's hot, you're hot, there's enough tension to make things interesting and it ticks your not ready for a relationship box pretty well too"

Despite the pointed look the captain offers him, Heeseung doesn't let up, and secretly, she wouldn't have it any other way.

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[ellstersmash]

Prompt time! Solas and Athi discuss at length if the other would love them as a worm. Please and thank you 🙏

rare and marvelous

Fandom: Dragon Age Pairing: Solas x f!Lavellan Rating: G for General now illustrated :')

-

“Are you comfortable in that form?”

Athi’s voice cuts into the quiet of the Fade and Solas’ own silent musings, the path they’re currently on less twisting, and therefore less mentally demanding, than most.

“This form?” he responds. “Or do you refer to another?”

“You know, most people don’t have to specify that.”

“I believe we can agree that I am not most people.”

Athi’s features scrunch together in amusement as she most certainly prepares to tease him—her favorite pastime, not that the Fade provides much of a variety from which to choose. “So true,” she says, the sing-song notes of it echoing in the shifting emptiness around them. “You’re very special.”

“Your approval of my circumstances is paramount,” he states dryly. “Which form are you currently curious about?”

“Your new—or, well, old—spirit form. It’s very… tendrily.”

Solas chuckles. “I can say with great confidence that I have never before been accused of being ‘tendrily.’”

“Love that we’re still finding firsts. Don’t you?” Athi nudges him with an elbow. The self-satisfied smile on her face makes its own light, her playfulness a beacon in the dull dark of this domain.

“You are right,” he says, “and I should hardly be surprised that you are still able to surprise me.”

“Or maybe you should be surprised by my surprising you, otherwise it’s not much of a surprise, is it? But back to my question: do you like to hang around as your tendrily spirit-self?”

“It is not so dissimilar to this one.”

“It floats.”

“Well, yes.”

“And you don’t have hands.”

Solas chuckles. “But many tendrils, as I’ve been recently informed. Besides, one does not need appendages to affect the Fade; only a capable mind and sufficient will.”

“Well, you need appendages to affect me,” Athi mumbles.

Solas grins over at her then, waiting until he catches her eye to lean closer, lower his voice, and ask, “Do I?”

She’s not the only one with the power to tease. It has the intended effect, of course: her eyes widen and unfocus for a few long moments, the air thickening with desire before she shakes it off.

“So is that a yes, then?” she asks.

“Yes, I am comfortable in that form, as I am comfortable in this one.”

“But not the wolf.”

This is not something he’s considered, and he takes his time answering. “The Dread Wolf was born of a specific need to threaten the evanuris and as a show of power and protection for those who would escape or oppose them. And, as you know, it takes a great deal of energy to maintain. I would not call it ‘comfortable’ by any stretch of the definition.”

“Cute, though.”

Solas rolls his eyes at her flippancy. “I refuse to dignify that statement with a response.”

“That is a response.” But she takes his hand and squeezes, warmth diffusing into Solas’ chest as her affection washes over him in gentle waves.

Some time later, it occurs to him to wonder why she brought this subject up in the first place. “Are you comfortable with my spirit form, Athi?”

“I mean, sure. It’s just new. And it is different, at least to me. Not as solid.”

“Different in a bad way?”

“No. I mean, yes in some ways. Harder to kiss you, for one thing.” She squeezes his hand again. “Also I’m never really sure which eyes to look into.”

“In truth, that form does not have eyes, or even sight in the way you’d experience it.” 

Athi looks up at him, a vacant expression which he can only classify as bewilderment on her face.

“There are other senses which allow me to perceive the world,” he continues. “Ones which are very difficult to explain to someone who cannot experience them, but rest assured that I know where you are and what you are doing, whether in spirit form or this one.”

“That clears things up less than I think you think it does.”

“I am sorry. Perhaps you might simply choose your favorite ‘eye’ with which to maintain contact as we converse.”

“Right, I’ll give that a go.” 

“Does it truly bother you? Does it change your opinion of me?”

Athi stops short, her hand still clasped in his tugging him to a halt in turn. “What? No, it doesn’t ‘bother’ me. It’s just different. And I have to be different with it.”

“But I am still…” He is unsure how to ask the right question, but feels it imperative that he discover the answer. “I am still Solas, to you? Even when I wear that form?”

“Who else would you be?”

“Does it change how you feel about me? Your—” It is still so hard for him to accept the concept that even forming the word is a challenge. “Your love for me?”

“Oh.” Athi’s whole being relaxes on a sigh and a soft smile. She lifts his hand to her lips and kisses two of his knuckles. “Don’t be ridiculous. Nothing can change that.”

“Well. That is a relief. Thank you.”

They continue along their path, but the quiet hardly has time to settle back in when Athi speaks again.

“Solas?”

He hums an acknowledgement.

“If I were in a different form, would you still love me?”

The answer is obvious, but he entertains the subject. “Temporarily?”

“No, I think permanently.”

“Of course I would. It is your spirit that I adore—though I am fond of your form as well.”

She laughs brightly. “Good answer! But what if it was really different? Like a fish? Or a worm? What if you woke up one day and I was a worm?”

“Is your spirit intact within this worm?”

“Let’s say yes.”

“Then yes, I would still love you. And I would learn to love your worm form in time.”

“Okay.” She’s silent long enough that he thinks the matter dropped, then: “But what if my spirit was changed, too? What if I had a worm spirit now?”

“That would be an impossibility.” Even more impossible than the premise, but he keeps that to himself. “If your spirit was no longer yours, but a worm’s, then there would be no you within it. I would cherish your memory into eternity, and leave the worm to live out its life.”

Athi gasps and stops again, dropping his hand to match her other one on her hip. “You would leave me?!”

“It would not be you, vhenan. It would be a worm.”

“But I would be the worm!”

“You’re not the worm. Without your spirit, the worm is just a worm.”

“What if I was always the worm?”

She appears genuinely distressed, and Solas isn’t sure he can reason his way out of a conversation this ridiculous. “Then we likely would never have met. You would not love me either.”

“You don’t know that!”

Solas sighs heavily, cradling his temples in one hand. “I fear we’ve stepped out of the incredibly hypothetical discussion we began and into a deeper one.”

Athi starts ahead without him. “You’ve certainly stepped into something.”

[eternallyhyucks]

chasing pavements | kim leehan

— no warnings, wc: 1.1k

— the title makes this sound so depressing i promise it is not 😭😭😭.. (i think) i just couldnt think of anything better …

part 2 (coming soon :p)

𖤐 ྀ

4 years ago, kim leehan moved into your town and started going to school with you. at first you thought he seemed nice, but within a month of him joining your class, your mind was immediately changed.

because he was attractive, all the girls in your classes constantly flocked around him or tried to get his attention which in turn made the boys befriend him to try and get a sliver of the attention put onto them. unfortunately for you, leehan was in all of your classes.

you weren’t the type to want to be different from everyone else, but you simply weren’t interested in the way leehan acted. he just seemed to be cocky because of all the attention he recieved constantly and that bothered you. of course, you never voiced your opinions on him, so they never created any problems.

that is until leehan himself began to notice that you never paid much mind to him.

one day, after your lunch period, you stopped at your locker. you told the friends you were walking with that they could head back to class while you grabbed your water bottle. as you closed your locker, you jumped a little after seeing leehan leaning with his back on the lockers next to yours.

“hi y/n”

“hi leehan”

he turns his body towards you, “i feel like we never actually talk to each other”

“we don’t usually have a reason to”

“do you not want to talk to me?”

“not really”

you start walking towards your class and he follows next to you.

“aw why not”

you ignore him and sit back in your seat.

after that interaction, you always caught leehan looking at you from the corner of your eye. he would always tend to be around you whether it was in class, the hallways or even during your lunch periods and your friends especially took notice to this.

“i swear i see that leehan kid everywhere lately”

you nod your head, “i know, i feel like i can’t escape him”

“and he’s always looking at you. i wonder if he likes you or something” your friend smirks

you shudder at the thought, “oh please he has enough girls on his roster”

months go by and leehan was still constantly hovered around you. one day, you had enough. because his locker was only a couple down from yours, you took extra long to put things away into yours to see if he would do the same. just as you suspected, he also stood at his for extra long. as the hallways began clearing up, you walked over to his locker.

“why are you everywhere, why do i keep seeing you everywhere”

“what do you mean?” he smiles

“come on leehan. ever since that day i told you i didn’t wanna talk to you, you started hovering around me everywhere i go. why are you doing that”

“you noticed ?”

“well no shit, you went from being nowhere near me to suddenly always near me”

“i don’t know.. i wanna get closer to you, you know, become friends. i just didn’t know how to go about it”

“so you started following me around..”

“well that wasn’t the plan”

“right.. okay well, stop doing that. if you wanna be friends just come up and talk to me, i won’t punch you for that”

“what would you punch me for?” he starts giggling

“freak” you walk away, rolling your eyes

as the year progressed, leehan began talking to you more and more. he would ask for help on homework and even try to partner up with you for projects (which you would usually turn him down for). everything he did felt platonic to you and you were completely platonic back. you still didn’t really like the way he acted anyway.

the end of the school year came quicker than you expected and the summer before your first year in college began (of course, you and leehan ended up committing to the same uni)

on the first day of your summer break, you woke up from a nap to a chain of texts from your friend.

are you going to the party tomorrow night? you try and rub some sleep away from your eyes,

what party?

leehan’s grad party, he invited us the day before graduation?

did he?

maybe it was when you fell asleep in stats

oh.. probably

so you going?

i don’t know, we’ll see

as you hit send and were about to put your phone down, it lit up again. this time it was leehan.

you’re coming tomorrow right? you never rsvp’d but your friends are coming so..

feeling a little guilty, you hesitated a little before replying, yeah i’ll try my best, sorry for not rsvping😭

you’re good, see you there ;)

you got out of bed, sighing.

—

the next night, you decided to carpool with some friends. you wore a simple floral dress with a sweater on top. from the moment you stepped into the party, you felt like you needed to leave, but unfortunately, leehan saw you walk in.

he walked over and smiled at you and your friends. “thank you guys for coming!”

your friends began spreading around the room and as you looked for a place to sit, leehan came and sat next to you.

“you look pretty”

“thanks”

“was the drive bad?”

“no, not really”

the silence between the two of you was very loud

“do you not wanna be here?”

you sigh, “i’m just tired, didn’t sleep much last night”

“ahh i see, i’ll let you be then”

he did not in fact let you be. 20 minutes later, he came and sat next to you again.

“you look bored”

“i am a little bit”

“where’d your friends go?”

“not a clue, i haven’t seen them since we got in”

there was a pause before leehan replied, “can i talk to you outside for a second?”

“uhh sure?”

the two of you got up and he led you out of his house and onto his deck. you lean on the railing of the deck.

“i have to tell you something” leehan began

“what’s up”

he paused, “i like you”

you blankly stared at him before you realized he wasn’t exactly joking around.

“you don’t mean that” you scoff. “you have an entire roster of girls you could turn to. you’re only interested in me because i’m not waiting in line for you”

leehan’s gaze shifted. “please y/n you have to believe me, i’ve really never felt like this for anyone else in my entire life”

“do you really expect me to believe that?”

“no? yes? i don’t know.. please can you just give me a chance?” he sighs and looks away and you notice him wipe his eye.

“three dates. just go on three dates with me and if after them, you really don’t want to be with me, i’ll move on. but if you say no or if in the middle you back out, i’m going to keep trying to win you over. what do you think?”

you think his offer over for a minute and sigh, “fine.”

he gives you a small smile.

©eternallyhyucks

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[ekrixart]

Hello!!!! It's been a while since rot in paradise came out but was there a canon reason everybody went in the ocean at the end? I know it was more metaphorical but I was still confused

Typically I don't like giving an outright "this is what the game was about" with projects I work on because I feel it can take away from the player experience and leaves less room for speculation and theorizing. Right after the game came out and for the month during the game jam I wanted people to be able to have their own take away of the game and didn't want to interject or place the idea that there was a "right" way to view it, especially since its a game with a looser plot and I didn't want it to cloud players individual interpretations of it.

A lot of people mentioned feeling like the story hit hard and felt personal to them which tells me that the themes and emotions we were going for were felt by some players but even more players were left confused or frustrated by the ambiguity. I understand that stories with more subjectivity that lean more into surreal visuals and open endings will land for less people but it still falls on the creator to tactfully deliver that message and I agree with a lot of the criticism that Rot in Paradise kinda fell flat of that.

From what Ive seen a lot of people felt like RIP had potential but it didn't follow through or feel cohesive enough. The main story was meant to touch on the themes and feeling of losing loved ones to dangerous ideologies and addiction. There wasn't a set in stone plot reason that everyone on the island falls victim to it, there wasn't a secret wrong thing that all of them did that June didn't- which was intentional to portray it as some people being susceptible to things you wouldn't think as reasonable but also potentially muddled the themes.

It was also meant to work as grounds for making the player feel confused and disoriented and wonder what they could have done differently to save them. There isn't anything that it seems the others interact with that June doesn't, she's able to partake in the same activities everyone else does without it altering her the way it alters them. It's a matter of forces outside her control effecting them more than it effects her and whether she wants to succumb to something she's capable of escaping to stay with her friends or leave them behind as they get worse and worse is up to her.

There were a lot of elements I think that worked against the favor of having that theme work. Even with a lot of the people who did notice and remark upon the message, it felt like the general vibe was "oh heyyy this part kinda sorta reminded me of this theme but idk if that was intentional" rather than a direct "this is what the theme of the game is". Overall while opinions on RIP were more mixed than previous entires I'm excited to tackle stories with more subtextual elements more in depth in the future outside of game jams. Rot in Paradise is probably one of less narratively successful games I've worked on in my opinion but still got me really excited about exploring that space and improving on stories like it in future projects and I'm still really proud of working on it

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

*insert Elmo in flames meme*

Ahhhh! I'd be happy to give you some Ominis fic ideas 😁🩷 of course, you could just scrap this altogether but I was thinking 🤔 could we have a 7th year Ominis being able to gain financial freedom from his family because MC gave her Hogsmeade shop to him? I know a lot of people want him to escape to America but Hogsmeade just feels so cozy and perfect for him being a shopkeeper.

And MC realizing her feelings for him during one instance when she had to return to him to replenish her supplies from her travels, and maybe decides it's time to be with him? 😣💕

It's okay if you don't like this plotline but I just finished the Haunted Hogsmeade quest, and I immediately thought of Ominis being its owner!

Thank you so much!!

Threads of Fate | Ominis Gaunt x Reader

Anon, I hope this is everything you hoped for! Thank you for the request and inspiration <3 it was my absolute pleasure writing this.

Words: ~6,700

Tags: Reader Insert, Female MC, No Y/N, Post Canon, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Romance, Fluff, Fluff AGAIN

“You’d think after all these years I’d be better at writing letters, but somehow, I still find myself pausing, trying to decide how to start. Then again, you always make it easier when you write first. Your last letter was… exactly what I needed. You have a knack for saying the right thing, even when you don’t realize it.”

“Anne stopped by the shop recently. She told me to stop ‘hovering like a nervous bird’ over your enchanted scarves and to start charging more for them. Apparently, she’s appointed herself my business manager, whether I wanted one or not. She also asked about you—how you’re doing, where you are, why you haven’t written her back, and, most importantly, when you’re finally coming home. I told her I didn’t know, but she was unimpressed by my answer. Honestly, I’m not impressed either.”

“Sebastian, meanwhile, has decided that I’ve become too boring for his liking. He keeps trying to convince me to pack up and visit you, as though I could just leave the shop to run itself. His words, not mine. It’s ridiculous, of course, but I wonder if there’s something to it. You’ve been gone so long now, it’s hard not to feel like there’s a part of this place missing.”

“Speaking of which—are you planning to come back anytime soon? You told me six months, and that was, what, six months ago? You’re not terrible at keeping promises, but you’re testing the limits here. I’ll forgive you if you write soon with some good news—or better yet, with the promise of coming home.”

“The shop is still standing, though I’ve made a few small changes here and there. I hope you won’t scold me when you see them. It’s funny, even when you’re not here, I find myself thinking, ‘What would she do?’ And sometimes, I swear I can hear your voice, usually chiding me for something I’ve misplaced or forgotten. I wonder—did you know, even then, how much this shop would mean to me? …Did you know how much you mean to me?”

“Take care of yourself, won’t you? Though I doubt I need to remind you. You’ve always been reckless, but you’ve never been careless. But I can’t help worrying about you—it’s impossible not to.”

“Write soon, or better yet, come home. I’d like to see you again. I’d like to… well, there’s plenty I’d like to say in person.”

Yours, always, Ominis

The letter, over a month old now, was worn at the edges, its parchment soft from being folded and unfolded too many times. Your fingers traced the familiar loops of Ominis’ handwriting, lingering over the slight smudge where his quill must have hesitated.

Even as the train carried you closer to Hogsmeade, you felt guilty. You hadn’t written back. But you hadn’t trusted yourself to put quill to parchment, not even to Anne or Sebastian, neither of whom could be trusted to keep your long awaited return a secret.

Six months. You’d promised him six months, and here you were, long past that mark. You’d wanted to return sooner—Merlin knew how much you’d wanted to—but there had always been one more ruin, one more curse to break, one more excuse to stay away.

It wasn’t just the work, though. The truth you hadn’t dared admit to yourself was that the thought of walking into Stitches and Draughts again, of seeing Ominis after all this time, terrified you. What if things had changed? What if the delicate balance of your friendship—of your stupid, traitorous feelings for him—had changed?

Merlin knew you had.

You caught your reflection in the train’s window, and for a moment, it felt like looking at a stranger. The girl you once were, the one with the boundless energy and effortless grace of youth, was nowhere to be found. Gone was the lithe figure and carefree ease that had come with an 18-year-old’s metabolism, replaced by a version of yourself you were still learning to accept. The life of a cursebreaker hadn’t been kind to your body—or your soul. Years of chasing dangerous leads, grueling physical labor, and long nights spent deciphering ancient scripts had taken their toll. Meals were often hurried, whatever you could grab between assignments, and the relentless travel left little room for rest. You were softer now, and your body bore the marks of your journey—an ache in your shoulders from carrying too much weight, faint scars from brushes with danger, and an exhaustion that felt carved into your very bones.

You turned away from the window, forcing your reflection out of sight. The sight of it only dredged up insecurities you had no business indulging—not now, not when you were so close. It was stupid to worry about it, you told yourself. What did it matter whether Ominis found you attractive? Seven years had passed. Seven years of separate lives, separate paths. You couldn’t expect him to still see you as he once might have—or to have waited for you at all.

Back then, you were just kids, after all. Even when your friendship had danced on the edge of something more, neither of you had ever been brave enough to take that final step. You thought of the moments that had felt like more—his hand brushing yours when you walked side by side, the way he’d linger in the shop late into the night, his head tilted toward you as though he could hear the shape of your smile. But those moments were fleeting, always followed by silence or a change of subject. Neither of you had ever said the words.

And now? Seven years was a long time to expect someone to wait for something that was never truly spoken aloud.

Still, the thought haunted you, gnawing at your resolve. Would he notice the changes in you? Would he care about the extra softness to your curves, the faint lines of exhaustion that hadn’t been there before? The idea that he might—that he’d look at you with anything less than the quiet warmth you remembered—made your stomach twist.

The train jolted, pulling you from your spiraling thoughts as it slowed to a screeching halt at Hogsmeade Station. The sound of the brakes, sharp and familiar, was like a spell breaking. You rose stiffly from your seat, clutching your bag as you tried to gather yourself.

The platform was just as you remembered it: bustling with witches and wizards, steam curling in the crisp air, and the faint smell of coal mingling with the fresh, wintry scent of snow. Twinkling fairy lights hung from the lampposts, casting a warm glow on the frosted cobblestones, while festive garlands of holly and enchanted mistletoe draped along the edges of the station roof. You adjusted the strap of your bag and stepped off the train, your boots crunching against the frost-dusted ground.

The walk into the village was surreal, like stepping back into a dream you hadn’t dared let yourself miss too much. The bustling streets, the cheerful glow of the shop windows, the distant chatter of students—every detail tugged at something deep inside you. It looked the same, as though no time had passed, and yet that was precisely what unsettled you.

Time had passed. Seven years, to be exact.

Seven years since you’d walked these streets as a Hogwarts student, clutching a bag of Honeydukes’ sweets or ducking into the Three Broomsticks with your friends to escape the cold. Seven years since you’d stood inside Stitches and Draughts as its owner, turning your ideas into enchanted creations, the room filled with the warmth of softly glowing candles and the sound of laughter. Seven years since you’d worked side by side with Ominis, his sharp wit cutting through Sebastian’s dramatic tales of Quidditch triumphs, all while the three of you shared late nights in the shop as though the world outside didn’t exist.

But even then, you’d known the shop wasn’t meant to be your forever.

The decision to give it to Ominis had come in the quiet months of your seventh year, after countless conversations where he’d confided in you about his family, his fears, and the cage he felt he could never escape. You’d listened as he spoke of the suffocating expectations of the Gaunt name, how every aspect of his life had been dictated by tradition and duty.

And money.

It wasn’t fair. Ominis deserved more than that. Far, far more.

Your Ominis deserved everything.

The idea had taken root during one of those late nights in the shop. He’d been helping you charm a batch of scarves to repel rain when you’d caught him standing at the counter, running his hands over the worn wood. There’d been a wistful look on his face, one that had stayed with you long after the candles were extinguished and the shop had gone dark.

By the time graduation loomed, the decision felt inevitable.

You still remembered the day you handed him the deed, the way his pale fingers trembled as he unrolled the parchment. His expression had been unreadable at first, his face carefully composed as he scanned the document.

“What is this?” he’d asked, his voice low and wary.

“It’s yours,” you’d replied, keeping your tone light even as your heart pounded. “The shop. Everything in it. Consider it a… graduation gift.”

The silence that followed had been deafening. Ominis had stared at you, his brow furrowing in confusion.

“You can’t be serious,” he’d said finally. “This is yours. Your work. You can’t just—”

“I can,” you’d interrupted, placing a hand over his. “And I am. You’re the only one I trust to take care of it. To make it more than I ever could.”

He’d tried to argue, of course. Ominis always argued. But you’d stood your ground, knowing in your heart it was the right choice.

“It’s not just about the shop,” you’d said softly, looking into his unseeing eyes. “It’s... about giving you a way out. A chance to build something that’s yours—not theirs.”

That had silenced him.

He’d accepted the deed reluctantly, his gratitude laced with disbelief. And though you hadn’t admitted it aloud, you’d known you were giving him more than just the shop. More than just securing his freedom. You were giving him a part of yourself, a way to stay connected even when you left.

And now, as Christmas loomed all these years later, your legs carried you through the village, back to that very same place. You were almost on autopilot, even as your heart pounded erratically in your chest with every step that brought you closer to the shop. Around you, the village bustled with holiday cheer, but all of it faded into the background, a distant hum drowned out by the sound of your own heartbeat.

And then you were there.

And Stitches and Draughts looked beautiful.

The building had been freshly painted, its trim gleaming with a soft, snowy white that contrasted perfectly with the deep emerald of the shop’s sign—still the same one you’d painted years ago, but lovingly restored. The doorframe was draped with enchanted holly garlands, the bright red berries twinkling like tiny stars. The windows sparkled in the glow of lights strung carefully along the eaves, and the front display was nothing short of magical.

Inside the glass, enchanted scarves floated gracefully in midair, their threads shimmering with subtle, festive embroidery—snowflakes that danced along the hems, holly leaves that twisted and turned like they were caught in a gentle breeze. Beside them, self-heating gloves sat arranged in neat little bundles, their tags tied with golden ribbons that seemed to hum faintly with charmwork.

It was perfect. Too perfect. And the sight of it, so familiar and yet so undeniably different, had your heart aching in your chest. This wasn’t just a shop anymore—it was his shop. Every detail spoke of Ominis’ care, his precision, his thoughtfulness. He’d taken what you’d built and turned it into something so much more.

Your grip tightened on the strap of your bag as your eyes flicked between the display and the freshly polished door handle. The urge to turn and flee surged through you, but your feet remained rooted to the spot. You’d faced cursed ruins, ancient traps, and magic designed to kill, but nothing—nothing—had ever felt as daunting as the prospect of walking through that door.

Would he even want to see you? Would he welcome you after all this time, after the months of silence and unfulfilled promises? Or had the years widened the distance between you too far to bridge?

The bell above the door jingled as someone exited the shop, their arms laden with carefully wrapped packages. They offered you a polite smile as they passed, but you barely noticed, your gaze fixed on the door that had swung closed behind them.

Your legs felt heavy as you took a hesitant step forward. Then another.

With a deep, unsteady exhale, you pushed the door open, the familiar chime of the bells above echoing like a memory brought to life.

The warmth of the shop enveloped you immediately, the scent of cedar and lavender mingling with something faintly sweet—probably from a batch of enchanted candles near the counter. Shelves lined the walls, filled with bolts of fabric, potion bottles, and racks of neatly displayed scarves and gloves. The hum of magic thrummed softly in the air, a comforting, familiar sound.

But none of it mattered, not really.

Your eyes were drawn to the figure standing behind the counter, his back to you, the blond of his hair catching the golden light.

"Be with you in a moment," he said, his voice smooth and warm, but it hit you like a jolt of lightning.

It had been so long—too long—since you’d last heard his voice, and even now, it was exactly as you remembered, richer with age but still undeniably Ominis. It overwhelmed you, the weight of it pressing down on the breath you tried to draw, stealing the words you’d thought you’d prepared.

And then he turned.

The sight of him was truly your undoing.

Ominis was taller than you remembered, his frame lean but strong, elegant but unyielding. He was wearing a soft sweater in a deep charcoal gray, the fabric snug across his broad shoulders and loose around his narrow waist, the sleeves pushed up just enough to reveal the sharp angles of his wrists and the pale skin of his forearms. His blond hair, a touch longer than it had been when you’d last seen him, was still combed back, though a strand at the front had fallen to rest against the curve of his face.

Time had only refined the sharpness of his cheekbones and the strong, angular line of his jaw. His features were striking in a way that felt almost unfair, the kind of beauty that drew the eye and held it captive.

And yet, there was something softer about him, too—something that hadn’t been there before. The rigid tension that had so often defined him in your Hogwarts years seemed less pronounced, replaced by a quiet ease as he worked. He looked… content.

It was too much.

You’d imagined this reunion a hundred different ways, but none of them had accounted for the way it would feel to see him again, to hear his voice, to stand so close and yet feel the weight of all the time and space that had separated you.

“My apologies for the delay. Welcome to Stitches and Draughts,” he said, his tone polite and practiced, yet warm in a way that made your chest ache. He tilted his head slightly, as though listening more intently. “What can I help you with today?”

The words hung in the air, impossibly ordinary for a moment that felt anything but.

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. All the carefully rehearsed greetings, the lighthearted explanations you’d planned for why it had taken so long to return, evaporated.

Your silence stretched just a second too long, and you saw the faint furrow of his brow, the slight tilt of his head as he picked up on your hesitation.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice softening, concern creeping into his tone.

That was what finally broke you.

“Ominis,” you managed, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to steady it.

His lips parted as though to say something, but no words came, and his sightless eyes, usually so calm and focused, seemed to search for you in the space between.

“Is it—” he began, his voice barely above a whisper, trembling at the edges. “Is… it really you?”

Tears pricked at your eyes, hot and relentless. You nodded before realizing he couldn’t see the gesture.

“It’s me,” you managed.

Ominis moved before you could register it, stepping out from behind the counter with a swiftness that made your breath catch. “You’re here,” he murmured, his voice filled with something close to wonder. “You’re actually here. But you… you didn’t write back. I thought—”

“I know,” you said quickly, guilt flooding your chest. “I’m sorry, Ominis. I—” Your voice faltered. How could you possibly explain everything? The silence, the distance, the fear?

Before you could try, Ominis closed the gap between you. His hands reached out, tentatively searching, as though he were afraid to reach out and find nothing there. When his fingers brushed against your sleeve, he inhaled sharply, and then his hands moved upward, settling on your shoulders.

You watched as his expression crumbled. The carefully constructed composure he’d always worn fell away, replaced by something raw and unguarded.

“You’re home,” he said, his voice trembling. “How long have you been planning this?”

The crack in his voice broke something inside you. “I… for months,” you whispered, your own voice shaking. “I'm so sorry, it took so long—”

Your words were cut off again as Ominis pulled you into him, strong arms wrapping around you with a desperate urgency, his hands firm against your back as if he were afraid to let go, afraid you might slip away again. The suddenness of it made you stiffen, your insecurities flaring instantly to life.

He’d know.

He’d feel the difference—the softness of your curves where you’d once been lithe, the weight you carried now, both physical and emotional. The image of what you’d been years ago, the version of you he might still hold in his mind, clashed violently with the reality of who you were now.

But then there was the feel of him.

Him, warm against you, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the faint scent of his characteristic cologne—it was all so achingly familiar, so Ominis, that you couldn’t bring yourself to care about the way you’d changed.

Tears spilled freely down your cheeks as you let yourself sink into his chest, your arms lifting to wrap around his waist. You clung to him, the years of distance and silence collapsing between you as if they’d never existed.

His hand moved gently, brushing over your hair in a soothing rhythm that made your heart ache. “I missed you hopelessly.” He murmured, his voice muffled by your hair

“I missed you more than anything,” you murmured, pulling back just enough to look up at him, tears still streaming freely down your cheeks. “I thought about you every day.”

Ominis pulled back slightly, his hands still resting lightly on your shoulders. His sightless eyes searched your face as though he could somehow see you, the corners of his mouth twitching into the faintest of smiles. You felt his thumb brush against your sleeve, as if he needed the tactile confirmation that you were truly there. One of his hands slid down to grasp yours, his fingers curling firmly around yours as if to anchor you both in this moment.

For a long, breathless second, neither of you spoke.

Then, without a word, Ominis turned toward the shop’s entrance, your hand still firmly in his. He moved quickly, his steps sure as he crossed the space to the door. Releasing your hand only briefly, he flipped the sign to Closed and twisted the lock with a decisive click.

“To hell with work,” he muttered under his breath, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

The words caught you off guard, pulling a startled laugh from you—a sound you hadn’t realized you’d been holding back.

When he turned back to you, his expression softened further, though there was still an edge of something you couldn’t quite name in the set of his jaw. Relief, perhaps. Or the determination of someone who wasn’t about to let this moment slip away.

“Come upstairs,” he said, his voice low and steady. “The shop can wait.”

He didn’t give you a chance to argue—not that you would have—before leading you to the small staircase tucked behind the counter. His hand stayed in yours as he guided you, his grip firm but gentle, like he was still afraid to let go.

The stairs creaked faintly under your feet as you followed Ominis into the flat above the shop. The scent of cedar lingered here too, mixed with something faintly herbal—his cologne, no doubt.

“Forgive the state of things,” he said quickly, his tone uncharacteristically self-conscious as he gestured toward the room. “I wasn’t exactly expecting... well, anyone. Least of all you.”

But as your eyes roamed the space, you couldn’t find the “mess” he spoke of. The room was tidy, cozy, and so very him. A small bookshelf stood against one wall, lined with neatly arranged tomes you recognized from your Hogwarts years, alongside a few newer additions. A comfortable-looking armchair sat in one corner, its seat draped with a soft, worn throw blanket. A half empty mug of tea sat forgotten on the small table beside it, next to what appeared to be a half-finished crossword puzzle.

There were small signs of his life everywhere: a folded sweater resting on the back of the chair, a walking stick leaning against the wall by the door, a well-cared-for violin resting in its case near the bookshelf. The window was framed by simple curtains, their edges charmed to shimmer faintly in the light, a detail that felt unmistakably him.

“It’s perfect,” you said, turning to him with a soft smile.

He let out a huff of disbelief. “Hardly. It’s small, and I wasn’t expecting guests, so it’s a bit—”

“No, really,” you insisted, stepping further into the room. “It’s... you. I mean that in the best way.”

His lips parted slightly, as though he wanted to argue, but he seemed to think better of it. Instead, his free hand gestured vaguely at the space. “I haven’t had much reason to bring anyone up here,” he admitted, his tone quieter now. “I usually keep to myself unless Sebastian or Anne drag me out for something."

You turned back to him, catching the faint blush dusting his cheeks as he moved to straighten a few items on the table near the armchair. The sight made your heart ache in the best way, the years falling away as though you’d never been apart.

“It’s nice to see you’ve kept up the crossword habit,” you teased, gesturing toward the table.

Ominis smirked, his confidence returning just enough to quip, “It’s either that or let my mind wander, and we both know that can only lead to trouble.”

You laughed, the sound light and easy, "That's true."

He gestured toward the couch near the window, its cushions plump and inviting. “Sit,” he said, his tone soft but insistent. “I'm sure you’ve been traveling all day.”

You hesitated, still standing near the door, but Ominis stepped closer, his expression gentle. “Please,” he added, his voice quieter now.

With a nod, you set your bag down near the door and crossed to the couch, sinking into its cushions. It was as comfortable as it looked, and you let out a quiet sigh as the tension in your body began to ease.

He moved toward the kitchenette. “Tea?” he asked, his head tilted slightly in your direction.

“Yes, please,” you said quickly, your voice softer than you intended.

Ominis nodded, his movements fluid and purposeful as he filled the kettle and set it on the small stove.

“I’ve got chamomile, mint, and… some Earl Grey that Sebastian swore I’d love but tastes like someone soaked socks in bergamot,” he said, the corner of his mouth quirking into a smirk.

You laughed softly, leaning back into the couch. “Chamomile sounds perfect.”

He nodded, plucking the sachet from its place with an almost practiced precision, his hands moving with the same quiet grace you remembered so vividly. Despite the ease of his movements, you could see the faint tension in the set of his shoulders, the way he hesitated before reaching for the mugs.

"Did Sebastian and Anne know about you coming back?" Ominis asked, his voice calm but carrying a subtle edge of curiosity.

You hesitated, fingers tracing the edge of the couch cushion. "No," you admitted softly. "I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t… want them to spill the secret. I thought it might be better this way."

He turned slightly, his sightless eyes tilted in your direction, one brow arching faintly. “Better for whom?”

You huffed a humorless laugh, biting your lip. "Me, I guess. I thought if I just showed up, it would be easier. Less... complicated."

Ominis tilted his head slightly, as though weighing your words, his fingers brushing the rim of the mug as he prepared your tea. "You thought sneaking back into Hogsmeade unannounced would be less complicated?"

A faint smile tugged at your lips despite the knot of nerves in your chest. "Okay, maybe not less complicated. But at least it meant I wouldn’t have to explain myself to Sebastian. You know how he gets."

He let out a soft laugh, the sound light and genuine, and it warmed something deep inside you. "Indeed. He is relentless," he said, placing the mug of chamomile tea in front of you on the low table. "Though, I can’t say I’d have been any better. If I’d known you were coming, I wouldn’t have been able to focus on anything else."

You looked up at him, startled by the quiet sincerity in his voice. He wasn’t smiling anymore, his expression open and unguarded as he sat down across from you, his own mug cradled in his hands.

“I didn’t mean to make you wait,” you said softly, your fingers curling around the warm ceramic. “I just—” You paused, your words catching in your throat. "I don't know. I suppose it doesn't matter. I'm here now."

Ominis’ lips pressed together for a moment, his brows furrowing slightly as though he wanted to press further. His hands tightened almost imperceptibly around his mug, the tension in his shoulders betraying his thoughts.

But then he exhaled softly, the lines of his face smoothing as he nodded. “You’re here now,” he repeated, his voice quiet but steady, though you could hear the unspoken for how long? lingering in the air.

You quickly took a sip of your tea, the warmth a welcome distraction as you scrambled for something that would steer the conversation elsewhere. “This tea is lovely,” you said, offering a smile that you hoped looked effortless. “Everything is. The flat, the shop... it’s all incredible. You must be so proud of what you’ve built.”

Ominis tilted his head slightly, his expression softening into something almost amused. “That’s kind of you to say, but I hardly think a well-stocked tea shelf qualifies as incredible.”

You laughed, grateful for the easy banter. “It’s not just the tea shelf, though it is very impressive. The shop looks amazing—I noticed the display when I walked in. And the enchanted holly on the door? It’s such a nice touch. It’s all so... you.”

He leaned back in his chair, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I did have some help with the holly—Anne insisted. She thought it might ‘soften my cold, foreboding reputation.’”

You grinned, picturing Anne bustling around the shop, her infectious energy clashing against Ominis’ quieter demeanor. “I think it works. Though I can’t imagine anyone thinking you’re 'foreboding'.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised,” he said dryly, his smirk deepening. “Anne says I scare away the first years who stop in. Apparently, my ‘stern demeanor’ doesn’t pair well with curious children looking for enchanted scarves.”

You laughed, the image of wide-eyed first-years inching cautiously into the shop playing vividly in your mind. “I’m sure you’re not that bad,” you teased. “Maybe they just don’t appreciate your charm.”

Ominis quirked an eyebrow, his smirk softening. “Charm, is it? I’ll be sure to tell Anne you said that next time she accuses me of being the ‘shopkeeper equivalent of a Boggart.’”

That earned another laugh, lighter this time, and you shook your head. “If she really thought you were a Boggart, she wouldn’t have helped with the decorations.”

“She likes to keep me humble,” he replied, his tone full of wry affection.

But even as Ominis joined in your banter, you could see the way his fingers drummed absently against the side of his mug, his thoughts clearly turning over something unsaid. He was playing along with your attempts at small talk, but you knew he wasn’t fooled.

Still, for now, he let it go, his quiet smile lingering as he said, “So tell me, how does it feel to be back?”

The question caught you off guard, and your smile faltered slightly. “It feels... surreal,” you admitted, your voice softer now. “Like I’ve been gone forever, and yet somehow nothing’s changed.”

Ominis nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Hogsmeade does have a way of staying the same. But you..." He hesitated, and his words hung in the air, unfinished but heavy with meaning.

You’re different.

He had noticed. Of course he had. Ominis was nothing if not perceptive.

You lowered your mug to the table, your hands curling into your lap as if that could somehow steady you. The warmth that had spread through your chest moments ago was now replaced with a twisting unease, a voice in the back of your mind whispering, This is it. This is when he sees what’s changed and decides it isn’t enough. That you aren’t enough.

"I know I’m different," you murmured, your voice trembling under the strain of your nerves. It cracked as you spoke, barely louder than a whisper. "I… I’m not the same person I was when I left. I know I’m not exactly how you remember me, and I—" Your breath faltered, hitching as you shook your head, your thoughts spiraling. "I just didn’t want you to be disappointed."

“Disappointed?” Ominis’ voice broke through your spiraling thoughts like a sudden, sharp wind, and when you looked up, his sightless eyes were fixed on you, his expression taut with something between shock and frustration. "Is this... is this why you've taken so long to come home?"

The question hung in the air, sharp and unrelenting, like the edge of a blade poised to strike. You opened your mouth to answer, but no sound came. The truth was tangled in your chest, knotted with years of insecurity and fear, and the weight of it pressed down on your throat, stealing your voice.

Ominis’ expression softened as he straightened in his chair, his jaw tightening as though he were holding back his own frustration—not at you, but at the very idea that you could feel this way. He exhaled slowly, his fingers tightening around his mug before setting it aside with deliberate care.

“Is that really what you’ve been carrying all this time?” he asked, his voice quieter now, but no less intense. “You thought I’d be... disappointed? In you?”

The lump in your throat grew heavier. "I’ve been gone so long... and you’ve built this incredible life here, and I—” You hesitated, your breath catching as you fought to steady yourself. “I didn’t know if I’d still fit into it.”

“You think I could ever—” He stopped himself, exhaling slowly as he ran a hand through his hair. “Merlin’s beard, don't you have any idea how much of this life exists because of you?”

Ominis leaned forward further, resting his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped tightly together. His fingers curled and uncurled against one another, as though he were searching for the right words. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer, but no less firm.

“Do you know what I thought when you walked into that shop today?” he asked, his words deliberate.

You shook your head, though he couldn’t see it. “No,” you whispered.

“I thought I’d finally woken up from the longest, most frustrating dream of my life,” he said, his lips twitching into a faint, almost self-deprecating smile. "And now, you’re sitting here, telling me you’re afraid I’d notice you’ve changed. Of course you’ve changed. I’d be more worried if you hadn’t. Life does that to people. It changes them. But just because you're different doesn't mean..." he swallowed, his words catching for just a moment before he pressed on, his voice quieter but laced with conviction. “Just because you’ve changed doesn’t mean you’re any less.”

He paused, his fingers tightening where they rested, his knuckles pale with the effort. His expression softened as his words seemed to tumble out, as if he couldn’t hold them back any longer. “That couldn’t be further from the truth, actually.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone, by the faint flush creeping up his neck.

Ominis sat back slightly, his hand running through his hair in a rare display of bashfulness. “It’s been seven years,” he continued, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. “Seven years, and in the brief time I’ve had to—to touch you, to hear you, to smell that very same perfume you always wear, you’ve only… Merlin, I don’t even know how to say this without sounding foolish.”

You felt your breath hitch, your pulse quickening as his words sank in. He wasn’t looking at you, not exactly, but the intensity in his voice made it feel as though he could see every piece of you, laid bare and vulnerable.

He exhaled slowly, tilting his head slightly in your direction as he gathered his thoughts. “You’ve only improved,” he said finally, his voice low but unwavering. “Despite whatever ridiculous notions you’ve been carrying around, you haven’t diminished. You haven’t become ‘less.’ If anything, you’re... more.”

“You’ve been away, yes," he continued. "You’ve faced things I can only imagine. And yet here you are, sitting in front of me, as strong and resilient and...” He hesitated, his lips curving into a faint, almost shy smile. “As breathtaking as the day you left. You think I’d notice the changes and find fault with them? How could I, when every single one is just another piece of the person I’ve been missing for so long?”

Your hand flew to your mouth, your vision blurring with tears. "Are you... you sure? You really don't have to say this, I—"

He shook his head, raising a hand to stop you, though his touch hovered just shy of reaching across the small space between you. “Of course I'm sure,” he said, his voice soft but insistent. “I’ve never been more certain of anything."

He drew in a slow, measured breath, his shoulders rising and falling as though he were steadying himself for a duel.

“I’ve spent seven years wondering if I’d ever get the chance to say this,” he admitted. “To say all the things I was too much of a coward to admit before you left. And I won’t waste it by letting you believe for even a second that you’re anything less than extraordinary," his voice softened, trembling at the edges as he stood from his chair. For a moment, he simply stood there, his sightless eyes cast downward as though steadying himself for what he was about to do. Then, slowly, he moved forward, kneeling on the floor in front of you with a grace that made your breath catch.

His hands reached out, tentative but deliberate, brushing over yours where they rested in your lap before curling around them.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he said quietly, his voice raw with emotion. “But I need you to hear this. I need you to understand.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he shook his head, cutting you off gently.

“I love you,” he said, his voice trembling slightly, his thumbs brushing over the backs of your hands. " I’ve loved you for so long that I don’t even remember what it feels like not to. And I know I should’ve said this before. I should’ve told you when we were still at Hogwarts, when you handed me the shop, when you left. But I was scared. Scared of what it would mean, scared I’d ruin what we had. And then you were gone, and I thought… I thought maybe I’d lost my chance.”

You couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, your heart pounding so hard it felt as though it might shatter through your ribs.

“But now you’re here,” he said, his words almost a whisper. “And I can’t let you leave again without knowing how much you mean to me. You are the most extraordinary person I’ve ever known, and I’ve spent seven years building a life that, no matter how complete it might seem from the outside, has always been missing you.”

You stared at him, your breath catching as the world seemed to slow around you. The face you’d waited seven years to see again—its every detail etched into your memory but now somehow more vivid, more real—was right before you. The faint furrow of his brow, the slight parting of his lips as though bracing himself for your response, the glisten of unshed tears in his sightless eyes.

It was all so achingly familiar, and yet time had made him even more beautiful in his quiet, unassuming way.

And you loved him.

You always had.

The years apart, the missed chances, the countless letters you’d written and rewritten but never sent—it all fell away, leaving only this moment. This man. The only person who had ever made you feel like you belonged.

“I’ve loved you too,” you whispered, the words spilling from your lips unbidden, your voice trembling but resolute.

Ominis stilled, his brows furrowing further as though he hadn’t quite heard you. “What?”

You reached out, your hands shaking as you cupped his face, your thumbs brushing over the faint stubble on his jaw. His breath hitched, his sightless eyes searching the space between you as though trying to see what your touch already told him.

“I love you, Ominis,” you said again, your voice steadying as you saw the hope flicker to life in his expression. “I always have."

His lips parted, his breath catching audibly as he tilted his head toward your hands, leaning into your touch as though it were the only thing grounding him.

“Say it again,” he whispered, his voice trembling.

You smiled through your tears, leaning closer until your forehead rested against his. “I love you,” you murmured, your voice soft but sure.

A shaky laugh escaped him, a sound filled with so much relief and joy it sent a fresh wave of tears streaming down your cheeks. His hands moved to cradle your face, his touch reverent and tender as his thumbs brushed away your tears.

“Merlin,” he breathed, his voice cracking with emotion. “I can’t believe... after all this time...”

“Believe it,” you said, your voice filled with quiet certainty.

His grip tightened slightly, his hands trembling as he pulled you closer. “Promise me,” he murmured, his breath ghosting over your lips. “Promise me you’ll stay—I’m begging you—don’t leave again. Merlin, I... I can’t go another seven years without you. Not knowing where you are, if you’re safe, if you’ll ever come back.”

You didn’t hesitate. “I promise.”