#and then their back together and life is fine again

[duxinteritio]

Okay, story time.

When my wife and I first started to live together we each had a cat. Her cat was younger(at the time. He's old now). My cat was old as dirt already.

She was a wonderful cat. Cleo was insanely cuddly and forgiving. All she wanted in life was to stop her little arthritic paws, curl up with one of her dogs in the sun, and for me to be in bed at 9 pm.

Like clockwork she would start softly meowing at me at 9. It would progressively get louder and louder. By 9:30 it was a continuous screaming as loud as it can get.

My wife had no idea this was something Cleo did.

The first night she did it we were watching TV together. And my wife is getting up and grabbing the cat, who thinks she's being taken to bed and purrs. And my wife looks at me who just continues sitting on the couch.

"I have no idea what's wrong with her? Do we need to go to the vet?!" Because the cat starts screaming when she realizes I'm still on the couch and she is not being carried to bed.

And I'm like "she's fine. She just wants me to go to bed."

As soon as I got to bed, with a screaming cat on my heels from the couch to bed, she stops screaming. Gets on the bed and waits for me.

If I ever dared to go back to the couch? She'd huff and get off the bed, come to me, and start screaming again.

Picture tax

[mapis-putellas]

𝑴𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒂 𝒅𝒂𝒚/𝑴.𝑳𝒆ó𝒏

Mapi was slumped into her chair, arms crossed, eyes heavy with exhaustion. She had barely spoken a word since you both left the house which was concerning in itself because Mapi never shut up. Normally she’d be teasing you or complaining about how early it was, or making some ridiculous joke that only she found funny. But today? Nothing. Just the occasional sniffle and a dramatic sigh every five minutes.

You nudged her gently. “You okay?”

Mapi turned her head slowly, eyes half-lidded, and pointed to her throat before dramatically pretending to cry.

“Oh no, poor baby,” you cooed, biting back a smile as you placed your hand on her thigh and squeezed softly.

She glared at you and grabbed her phone, typing something before holding it up. There, in big capital letters, read,

THIS IS YOUR FAULT.

You gasped. “How is this my fault?”

She sniffled loudly and typed again.

You stole my blanket. I got cold. Now I am dying.

“That is not how sickness works, amor, and you’re not dying, just dramatic.”

She squinted at you like she was contemplating murder, but thankfully, before she could, the media team called her name and she let out the most pathetic attempt at a groan before pushing herself up from the chair. You followed, because you knew she was going to need help. She was supposed to film an interview, answer questions, be her usual charming and slightly ridiculous self. But that was hard to do when she sounded like an eighty-year-old smoker.

As soon as the cameras were ready, Mapi cleared her throat and opened her mouth to speak. Nothing. A horrible, scratchy wheeze came out instead, making her sound like a broken door hinge. The crew exchanged glances, and you pressed your lips together, trying not to laugh. Mapi looked horrified.

One of the interviewers hesitated. “Uh…do you want to reschedule?”

Mapi shook her head quickly, grabbing her phone again.

No, I am professional.

You snorted. “Yeah, okay.”

She sent you a withering look and started typing furiously. Then she handed you the phone.

You do it. Be my voice.

You blinked. “Wait, what?”

She nodded firmly, crossing her arms.

The media team seemed amused by the idea. One of them spoke up. “So…you’ll answer her questions for her?”

Mapi pointed at you, then gave a thumbs-up.

You sighed. “Fine. But if you make me say something stupid, I swear-“

She grinned,,which was probably the first real sign of life you’d seen from her all morning since you’d dragged her ass out of bed.m

The interview began, and the first question was a simple one. “How are you feeling today, Mapi?”

You glanced at her, and she immediately typed on her phone before shoving it at you.

You read it aloud. “I feel amazing. Very strong. Possibly the strongest I have ever been.”

The interviewer looked at Mapi skeptically. “You…don’t sound amazing.”

Mapi scowled, typing furiously for a second.

You glanced at the screen again.“I am perfect. I am unstoppable. Only weak people get sick.”

Mapi nodded sagely.

You rolled your eyes. “She’s literally dying.”

Mapi nudged you sharply with her elbow, and you yelped.

“Okay, next question,” the interviewer said, clearly entertained. “Who is the funniest person on the team?”

Mapi smirked and started typing.

You took the phone and read, “Me, obviously.” Mapi grinned,and you continued reading. “Also, my girlfriend is very funny, but only on accident. Most of the time, she is just dumb.”

You looked up in outrage. “MAPI.”

She was shaking with silent laughter, and the media team too, was losing it. The interview went on like that, with Mapi answering every question through you, except half the time she was using it as an opportunity to make fun of you.

Finally, the interviewer asked, “Okay, last question. What’s the best part about being in a relationship with your teammate?”

Mapi’s smirk softened slightly, and she typed slower this time.

You took the phone and read, “She makes me happy. Even when she is annoying. And even when she steals my blanket and makes me sick.”

Your heart melted a little. “Oh, Mapi.”

She gave you a tired smile.

Then she grabbed the phone again and typed one last thing.

Also, I am much better at football than her.

You groaned. “I take back every nice thing I was about to say.”

Mapi just laughed well, wheezed- and rested her head on your shoulder as the interview wrapped up.

**

Tags:

@ceesimz @marysfics @girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @simp4panos @silentwolfsstuff @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan @ktgoodmorning @chelseacult

[lila-went-missing]

Hiii, saw you wanted some requests for Sevika and I've had this idea bubbling up for a while. Imagine Vika with a reader that's normally experienced, yk has fucked one or two people before and it's not a sex god, and they're growing insecure about sevika never starting intimacy even after months of dating, so they think it's because they're not as good as the girl's she's been with before. Idk just thought that'd be good

I'm kind of obsessed with this, ngl. This isn't the first smut that I've written but it is the first smut that I've posted on here so feedback is always appreciated. Y'all will never guess... it's not proofread. Again. Enjoy my lovelies! X

Warnings: Smut (obviously), mild angst but nothing too horrible, mentions of body image issues but readers body type isn't specified or described.

Fem reader, of course, with female genitalia.

At first, you didn't think anything of it. She probably just wanted to take things slow with you. You weren't as experienced as her so she probably wanted to take her time.

That made sense for a while.

But now, after eight months together, you haven't had sex once. More importantly, she hasn't initiated it.

Realistically, you know that it's fine. There's plenty of reasons as to why nothing has happened so far. But that voice in the back of your head is doing a fantastic job of convincing you otherwise.

Sevika was kind of a sex symbol before you two got together.

She'd been with countless women, she was a regular at Babbettes. Her name was uttered on the streets like a sacred prayer.

You, on the other hand, have only been with two people: your ex, and a drunken one night stand that was less than satisfactory. So you did have sexual experience, but not nearly as much as her.

Honestly, it's starting to worry you.

Did she not like you? Was she not physically attracted to you? Was there something wrong with your body? Were you not showing enough skin?

Thoughts plagued your mind night and day. You were stuck in constant turmoil. It was impossible to stop your own brain once it got going.

It was taking everything in you to focus on the stove and not burn dinner.

You flinch at the sound of the door closing. Heavy footsteps sound through the house, approaching the kitchen.

Sevikas thick arms wrap around your midsection, her face making home in the side of your neck. For a long time, she doesn't say anything. The only sounds come from the meat sizzling in your pan. Moments like this make it easier to not think about the painful lack of aw sex life between you two.

Her lips purse, pressing small kisses against your skin. She hums against your neck.

"What are you cooking doll?" Her voice is muffled against your flesh but you understand her all the same.

"Spaghetti." You feel her smile.

"My favorite.." She mumbles. You hum a small "Mhm" before focusing back on the seasoned beef and water you're waiting for to boil. Her arms tighten ever so slightly, one hand slipping under your shirt. Her thumb caresses your bare skin.

It should be sweet but it really just drives the nail into the coffin for you.

Your voice comes out before you can stop it.

"Why won't you have sex with me?" You regret it the moment it leaves your mouth.

"I- woah, what? Doll what do you mean?" She honestly sounds baffled.

"Forget I said anything, please. It doesn't matter."

Her hands gently grab your shoulders, turning you around.

"No way. What are you talking about?"

You shake your head. "It's stupid.."

"It's not stupid if it's bothering you." She reassures you.

"It's just, we've been together for eight months, and we practically live together. But we haven't done anything. I know you don't have an issue having sex because half the undercity talks about how good you are and I just don't understand. Is there something wrong with me? Am I not appealing to yo-" Your rant is cut off by her lips. Her hands are holding you like glass, one on your cheek, one curled around your hip.

"There is nothing wrong with you." Her voice comes out as a soft whisper. "I'm sorry I made you feel like there was. I just knew that you don't have as much experience as I do. I didn't want you to feel rushed, or forced."

"Rushed? No, you could never.. I thought you just didn't want me that way." She immediately shakes her head. She kisses you again, more urgently this time.

Her hands grab anywhere they can, pulling you in. They're on your hips, waist, groping your ass.

"I do want you." Then they're picking you up and lifting you on the counter. "Let me show you how much I want you?" All you can do is nod as her lips trail down your neck. Her touch dances over your body, removing your top.

Her mouth follows soon after, sucking dark bruises into the skin on your neck and chest. She takes a nipple in her mouth and swirls her tongue around it. A low whimper leaves your mouth at the new, but not unpleasant, sensation.

Her right hand copies her tongue's motions on the other, pinching and pulling. Your body trembles against the counter with need.

She moves away from your breasts, kissing and licking down your stomach to your navel. Her hands unbutton your pants. She looks up at you as she lowers herself to her knees, silently asking for permission. You nod your head. You don't trust your voice. Your pants are off in seconds and thrown somewhere in the kitchen that you'll worry about later.

Her hand splays across your stomach and gently pushes you to lay against the tile. It's cold against your bare and burning skin, your back arching off of it but she keeps your hips pinned down.

You gasp as her teeth nip at the skin of your thigh. A breathy laugh leaves her.

"Shut up.." You mutter.

"Didn't say anything."

Your eyes roll in fake annoyance but you don't get the chance to reply as the cold air hits your bare cunt. Her thumbs pull your lips apart, admiring the sight before her.

"Fuck doll, you're so wet. All of this for me?" Her voice is husky between your legs and it stirs something delicious in your belly.

"Yes, all for you Sev.." She chuckles. Her teeth take the hem of your panties and drag them down your legs. She kisses your hips and navel, sucking hickies and marking you as hers.

"Please, Vika. Need you.." You whine. You can't bring yourself to care about how desperate you sound. You're sure that you look even more so from her position.

It seems, though, that your prayers have been answered because as soon as the words leave your mouth hers is back on you. This time it's between your legs.

She licks a long stripe up your pussy before stopping to suck your clit into her mouth. A loud moan reverberates from your chest as you lean your head back into the counter. Her tongue kitten licks at the bud before suckling on it like shes trying to nurse herself.

You've had people eat you out before but never this well. You don't think it could get better than this.

She moves down, opting to fuck you with her tongue instead. You definitely understand the appeal now. You've given yourself plenty of orgasms but this is the fastest one has risen before.

She feels it in the way you clench around her tongue and moves back to your clit. Her fingers fill up the now empty space, fucking into you in a gently but rough way only she could manage.

She's eating you like a woman starved and with the lack of sex the two of you have had she may as well be. If you didn't know better you might think this is her last meal.

Gasps and whimpers leave your mouth in a desperate way you can't stop.

"Fuck Sev.. ngh~ m'gonna cum, please.."

She smirks against you once more, speeding up her ministrations.

"Come on my tongue baby, make a mess on me." Her voice is muffled against you cunt, vibrations travel through your clit with her words.

You last maybe thirty seconds longer, hand tangled in her hair, before releasing over her tongue.

She laps you up, milking you for all that you're worth. She's never tasted anything more delicious. Her mouth doesn't let up until your whimpering from the overstimulation and pushing her head away.

She looks you in the eye as she sucks her fingers clean before kissing back up your body. Her lips lock onto yours and you can still taste yourself on her tongue. It makes your head spin in a way you've never felt before.

When you come back to earth, her hand is running through your hair.

"I'm sorry I made you believe that I didn't want to do that." She mumbles. "But now I may need it to be a daily thing." You giggle at her words.

"It's okay. I wouldn't mind honestly." She helps you sit up, a large hand cupping your cheek. "You didn't get to cum.." You whisper as you lean in closer.

"Don't worry about me, I'll get my fill later." The look on her face tells you that this isn't over. "I'm going to change out of these clothes. You just worry about dinner okay?" She slips your panties back on along with your shirt.

You nod, sliding off the counter. You wince at the mess you made but she's already wiping it up. Her lips meet your temple as she mutters a low, "I love you."

"I love you more." She shakes her head, chuckling before walking back to her room. You feel much better now, and you really can't wait for what she meant by "later".

[shyamanuensis]

Break Ups - boyfriend!series

It’s a week before Valentine’s Day and you’ve decided to pull the pin on your relationship. This is how your now ex would handle it…

𝔤𝔞𝔯𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔥 -

♥︎ “Who?” It’s the way he answers whenever someone asks him where you are or what’s happened between the two of you. Does he want to talk about it? No. Will he ever? Absolutely not. It’s fairly obvious the two of you ended not on great terms - for the last week he’s gone out of his way to avoid you as if you’re carrying a medieval plague and rolls his eyes whenever your name is mentioned. Mature - real mature.

♥︎ Although he acts as if the breakup hasn’t affected him, once it actually sinks in (this takes a week or so), he can’t help but cry himself to sleep. Leander thought it would be a one-off thing, but no - he’s caught Garreth for 4 nights in a row now with teary eyes half asleep clutching at his pillow for temporary comfort and warmth.

♥︎ Party animal? Sort of. In the last week, he’s turned up to classes with hangovers the size of Hogsmeade and managed to sling back more shots than the entire of Gryffindor house combined. Does it make him feel better? Hell no - but at least now he’s not crying himself to sleep at night.

♥︎ That ball happening at the end of the month? The one you were meant to be going to together as a Hogwarts power couple - yeah he’s already asked another girl to take your place as his date. He couldn’t bring himself to actually see it through though so on the night, he ditches her and tries one last attempt at getting you to slip into that figure-hugging dress he spent hours upon hours having to hear you rave and ponder over walking between the 19 different stores you were determined to try everything on in.

♥︎ Could you return to being just friends? Perhaps. It takes a while. There’s a level of trust and understanding you both need to work through, but his greatest challenge when the two of you start talking again is remembering the fact he can’t just take hold of your hand whenever he wants to.

𝔬𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔦𝔰 -

♥︎ Aloof. Apathetic. Absentminded. Yeah that boys not on another planet but in another universe altogether. It makes it easier though - well as least that’s what he’s told his friends. The less opportunity he has to think about or run into you, the quicker he’ll mend.

♥︎ Irrespective of his attempt at forgetting you; he’s also tried to ask for forgiveness. Was he the reason the two of you ended things? Who really knows, but he’s got the moral mindset instilled within him that a true gentleman apologizes so he does the only way he knows how to. Flowers. Which would be sweet, but he’s enchanted them to not leave you alone until you finally accept their presence and place them in a vase of water.

♥︎ That gift he’d brought you for your birthday in a few months time? You still get it. Returning it would be a hassle and he’s convinced that it would be a waste for something so carefully curated and selected to go to anyone else.

♥︎ Does he date again? No. At least not for a while. Well until after graduation. Is he fine with you dating? Of course. He’s only ever wanted to see you happy; but can he bring himself to go through a potential heartbreak all over again for the sake of romantic and intimate company - no. Not while your lack of presence still haunts him.

♥︎ Out of habit; he’ll still pull your chair out for you to take a seat or open a door so that you can walk right through without having to lift a finger. He’s the perfect trope of a gentleman through and through and won’t let this roadblock in the friendship the two of you had before dating ruin his behaviour towards you.

𝔰𝔢𝔟𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔞𝔫 -

♥︎ How is his life going? If you ask him absolutely amazing. He’s free, he’s single, he’s ready to mingle. Has he taken that photo of you out of his wallet yet? No. That’s not going anywhere.

♥︎ Speaking of being single, he’s managed to make out with a dozen other women in the last 7 days by using nothing other than his pure charm to win them over but has he slept with any of them? Eh - no. He secretly likes the fact that his bedsheets still smell like you.

♥︎ Dueling has become a bit of a problem. He’s what others are calling volatile and aggressive. Lucan and Hecat have both spoken to him about toning it down but the words have gone in one ear and out the other. That last confringo he cast sent 2 students to the infirmary and almost burnt down the clocktower.

♥︎ The reason those other boys who have approached you once have never spoken to you again? Yeah that reason is Sebastian. He’s managed to threaten all but one into staying away from you. The one he didn’t threaten merely needed a dirty look shot his way.

♥︎ How long does the grieving process last for a Sallow some may ask? Oh it’s never longer than 14 days. Why? Because by this stage you’ve both come back to your senses and have realised that you’re like oxygen to fire and that the mutual level of unhinged passion which burns between you both is the reason you’re back beneath him in bed; craving the way his hands, lips, and tongue feel against your body. Fuck - fuck - fuck.

ps: thanks to @slytherinlives for the chat regarding this and @eva-fitzgerald for putting up with my brainstorming.

[heliosunny]

Yandere!Reader x Mydei

You were always there. Always watching. Always loving. And yet-

He never saw you.

From the moment you first laid eyes on Mydei, your world had revolved around him. You watched his struggles, his quiet victories, the loneliness he carried behind that sharp gaze. The world ignored him, but you didn’t. You knew his worth, his brilliance, the fire that burned inside him.

So you helped. From the shadows, where your love belonged.

A whisper in the right ear to push his name forward. A lost item appearing just when he needed it. An obstacle erased before it ever reached his path. You removed his enemies, lifted him up, smoothed the rough edges of his world—all without him ever knowing.

And that was fine.

It was enough to see him flourish, to watch from afar as he stepped closer to greatness, closer to the life he deserved.

Until he looked at her.

She was nothing special. A noble’s daughter, with soft words and kinder eyes than most. She had spoken to him once, twice, perhaps with genuine warmth, nothing more.

Yet, when Mydei began to notice the strange fortune surrounding him, when he started piecing together the way unseen hands had shaped his success, he made a mistake.

He thought it was her.

You watched in silence as he approached her, as he thanked her for things she had never done, as he lingered in her presence with quiet admiration.

Your fingers curled into your palms, nails pressing into skin.

That wasn’t right. That wasn’t fair.

She hadn’t been the one who whispered words of encouragement when no one else believed in him. She hadn’t erased the threats in his path. She hadn’t bled for him.

She didn’t deserve his love.

You were the one who had always been there. You were the one who had watched him struggle, who had lifted him up without ever asking for thanks.

You were the one who loved him most.

And yet, he still hadn’t seen you.

Not yet.

One day, he would turn around and realize who had been there all along. One day, he would understand that no one else could love him like you do. One day, he would look at you the way he looked at her now.

And until that day came…

You would keep watching. Keep waiting.

Because Mydei was yours.

He just didn’t know it yet.

The ballroom was warm, suffocating with conversation. You stood among your noble acquaintances, their laughter and idle chatter blending into meaningless noise. You barely listened. Your mind was elsewhere��on him.

Mydei was here tonight. Somewhere in the crowd.

You had no right to approach him, no excuse to step into his world. Not yet. Not when he still didn’t see you.

Instead, you watched from afar, as you always did. You let your eyes trace the way he held himself, shoulders squared, gaze sharp, his presence an undeniable force despite the way others overlooked him. He was always so composed, so carefully guarded.

But then—he smiled.

At her.

Your stomach twisted, sharp and aching.

She was speaking to him again. And Mydei leaned in, his golden eyes holding something dangerously close to admiration.

A bitter taste filled your mouth.

You turned away, forcing yourself to engage in conversation, to pretend the sight of him didn’t make your chest ache with unspoken longing. Your noble friends prattled on—politics, alliances, meaningless pleasantries, but it all blurred into the background.

Then, in a moment of cruel irony, fate intervened.

Someone moved too close, their dress sweeping against your leg, and before you could steady yourself, your balance faltered—just for a second, just enough for you to stumble back. Straight into someone’s chest.

Firm hands caught your arms, steadying you before you could fall. You barely had time to breathe before a voice spoke just above your ear.

“Careful.”

Slowly, you turned your head, his golden eyes met yours, and for the first time, they were really looking at you. Your heart was pounding so violently you thought he might hear it.

“I…” You struggled for words, something, anything, but your mind had gone blank.

His touch lingered for a moment too long before he stepped back, giving you space.

“I don’t believe we’ve spoken before.” Mydei said.

No, you hadn’t. But you had watched him for years.

Your fingers clenched at your sides, the ache in your chest unbearable. Finally, after all this time, he was looking at you. Finally, you had his attention.

But not in the way you wanted.

You swallowed down the storm inside you and forced a smile, dipping your head slightly. “Perhaps not directly. But I know of you, Lord Mydei.”

His lips curved, faintly amused. “Do you?”

You met his gaze, heart thundering. “Yes.” More than you could ever admit.

For the first time, he was standing before you. Speaking to you.

And for the first time, you weren’t just a shadow in the background.

Mydei did not forget you after that night.

You had expected him to, as he had so many others. He was a man with greater ambitions, a mind too sharp to waste on idle courtly chatter. He was destined for more, for greatness, for a world beyond the fleeting amusement of a single ballroom conversation.

And yet, in the days that followed, you felt his gaze linger.

The next time you attended a gathering, you caught him watching. Not for long, just a glance, just a flicker of curiosity before his attention returned to business, but it was there. Mydei, the man who had never spared you a thought, was now aware of you.

It made your heart pound with something dangerously close to hope.

The problem was, he was getting too close.

Not in the way you had dreamed, no, this was not the sweet surrender of affection, not yet. This was intrigue. Suspicion. Interest.

He sought you out at gatherings now, brief exchanges turning into longer conversations. A casual comment became a measured observation. A passing glance became a moment of study. He was watching you, as if trying to place where he had seen you before, as if something about you didn’t quite make sense.

And that… that was dangerous.

Because the truth was, you had been with him far longer than he realized.

The letters that never reached his enemies. The alliances that crumbled before they could form against him. The quiet disappearances of those who whispered doubts about his rise.

You had done so much for him, unseen, unheard. You had shaped his world, softened his path, ensured his success in ways he would never fully understand.

And if he did understand—if he ever truly uncovered the depth of your devotion, the lengths you had gone to...

Would he be grateful?

Or would he recoil?

The thought haunted you as much as it thrilled you.

You should have stepped back. You should have let his curiosity fade, allowed him to forget your existence like all the others.

But now that his gaze was on you, now that he had finally noticed you, how could you let him look away?

At first, you played your role carefully, engaging but never too eager, distant but never cold. You let him chase, let his intrigue grow. You gave him just enough to keep him wondering.

But Mydei was clever.

He started testing you in small ways. Asking about things he shouldn’t have thought you’d know. Mentioning old enemies, waiting to see if your reaction faltered. Speaking of past betrayals, watching for the flicker of recognition in your eyes.

He was searching for something.

And for the first time, you felt the trap you had so carefully avoided for years begin to close in around you.

The obsession you had kept hidden, the devotion that had lived in the dark corners of your heart, was now exposed to the light.

And Mydei was staring straight into it.

Mydei wasn’t a man prone to paranoia, but he was a man who noticed patterns—subtle shifts, inconsistencies in the grand game of power and influence. And something about you didn’t quite fit.

At first, he brushed it off. You were interesting, yes, but not an immediate concern. A noble with sharp wit and a presence that lingered longer than expected. Nothing more.

But then there were the coincidences.

You always seemed to know the right things to say, even when the topic was something only those entrenched in his struggles should understand. A political maneuver that had been arranged in secrecy, a name that should have been unfamiliar to you, yet you reacted, just for a fraction of a second.

He tested you again.

A casual mention of an old rival, one who had suddenly lost favor and vanished from court. Most nobles would have responded with idle curiosity or feigned ignorance.

But you had blinked.

A slow, measured movement. Just barely there.

It wasn’t proof. Not yet. But it was enough to make him look closer.

And once he started looking, he couldn’t stop.

The disappearances. The unexpected fortunes. The unseen hands that had smoothed his rise to power, eliminating threats before he had even lifted a finger.

It had never made sense before. But now, there was you.

And the question he couldn’t shake: Had you always been there?

He began to watch you, the way you had watched him for years.

And he saw it, the way your gaze followed him when you thought he wasn’t looking. The way your fingers curled when he spoke with others, an almost imperceptible tension in your posture. The way your presence, once unnoticed, had always been.

Memories resurfaced. Faint whispers of things he had long overlooked. The gifts that appeared without a sender. The enemies that fell before they could strike. The sense of being watched, always watched, even in his loneliest moments.

The realization settled like a slow-moving storm, creeping through his veins, twisting through his thoughts.

It had been you.

All this time, it had been you.

And yet, you continued to pretend.

You smiled when he approached, feigned innocence when he asked careful questions, danced so gracefully around the truth.

But now, Mydei wasn’t just intrigued.

He was certain.

For all its danger, for all its quiet madness—

Wasn’t it beautiful?

No one else had ever loved him like this.

And Mydei had never been one to turn away an advantage.

So, instead of pulling away, he stepped closer.

And as he studied you, as he traced the shape of your obsession with newfound understanding, he wondered—

How far would you go for him?

The party was suffocating. You had no interest in any of it, least of all in watching her drape herself over Mydei with soft smiles and fluttering lashes.

You had seen enough.

So you slipped away, weaving through the crowd like a ghost, unseen, unheard. The night air was a welcome relief as you stepped onto the balcony, the cool breeze biting at your skin. The world outside stretched before you—vast, dark, endless. You hummed your favorite song.

You had always belonged in the shadows.

Alone, you let out a slow breath, leaning against the marble railing.

But the moment of peace didn’t last.

A presence followed you,

You knew who it was before he even spoke.

“You leave so suddenly” Mydei mused, his voice smooth, measured. “Tired of the party?”

You forced a small smile before turning to face him. He stood just inside the doorway.

“I wasn’t in the mood for… theatrics” you admitted, glancing briefly at the glowing ballroom behind him. The sight of her laughing, of him standing so close to her, it made something in you ache.

He stepped onto the balcony, the door clicking shut behind him. “Is that all?”

You tilted your head slightly. “What else would it be?”

A moment of silence lingered for too long. The night wind stirred, carrying the faint hum of music from inside. Mydei’s gaze never wavered, studying you with that same unsettling intensity he had carried for weeks.

“I know what you’ve done.”

What?

For a heartbeat, you considered feigning ignorance. Pretending you didn’t understand. But the way he was looking at you like pinning you in place, waiting for a reaction—made it clear.

He knew.

Your fingers curled against the cold marble. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You’re good at hiding” he admitted, stepping closer. “I almost didn’t notice.”

You swallowed, forcing yourself to remain still as he closed the space between you.

“The disappearances. The convenient misfortunes of those who opposed me. The way my path has always been… smooth.” He let the words linger before tilting his head slightly. “That wasn’t luck, was it?”

You said nothing.

Because what could you say? Lie? He wouldn’t believe it. Confess? You weren’t ready for that.

His golden eyes searched yours, waiting, expecting. He was giving you a chance—to explain, to unravel, to break beneath his gaze.

But you couldn’t.

So you smiled. “And if it wasn’t luck?”

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, as if testing the weight of your words. Then, Mydei did something unexpected. He laughed.

He shook his head, exhaling as if he should have known.

“Of course” he murmured, looking at you not with fear, not with anger—but with understanding.

He wasn’t pushing you away. He wasn’t disgusted.

He was accepting it.

He stepped closer, close enough that you could see the sharp gleam in his gaze. “Tell me,” he murmured, voice almost gentle. “How long have you been watching me?”

The truth sat on your tongue, too heavy to speak.

Instead, you let your eyes meet his.

For once, it was he who waited.

For once, it was he who longed for an answer.

And in that moment, standing beneath the moonlight, you knew—

He would never look away again.

Because now, he saw you.

And he wasn’t afraid.

The night air felt heavier now. Mydei stood before you, golden eyes sharp, unblinking, waiting- waiting for you to give yourself away.

You had been careful for years. You had hidden your devotion behind polite smiles and distant glances, behind carefully orchestrated events that led him to where he was now.

But now he knew. And you had a choice.

Deny it. Pretend. Hide.

You took a slow step closer, your voice quiet but unwavering. “Tell me, Mydei.” you murmured, “if I told you I intended to kill her tonight—what would you do?”

The amusement in his expression didn’t falter, but something shifted.

You reached out, brushing a gloved hand against the marble railing. “If I see you dance with her,” you continued, voice softer, “I will slip a blade between her ribs before the night ends. If you laugh at her words, I will have her poisoned before dawn.”

You tilted your head, watching him closely. “I will remove anything that stands in your way. I always have.” A pause, deliberate, lingering. “And I always will.”

The night’s cold wind whispered against your skin, but it wasn’t nearly as chilling as the way Mydei looked at you now.

Not with horror.

Not with revulsion.

But with understanding.

A slow exhale left his lips. He tilted his head, studying you like an unsolved puzzle. “Is that so?” he mused.

You had tested him. And he had not stepped away.

You let out a soft, breathy laugh. “Yes.”

For the first time, you wanted him to see. You wanted him to know the depth of your devotion, the lengths you would go for him. If he truly cared, if he truly loved you, he would not turn away.

And he didn’t.

Instead, he did something far more dangerous.

He smiled.

It was faint, barely there, but you saw it.

“Then tell me...” he murmured, stepping closer, his voice almost tender. “What else have you done for me?”

He wasn’t rejecting you.

He was inviting you deeper.

And as his golden eyes bore into yours, you realized

You weren’t the only one testing love tonight.

Mydei’s gaze didn’t waver, nor did yours. You had laid yourself bare before him, stripped of pretense, shrouded only in the devotion that had long festered in the shadows.

And he had not turned away.

But something inside you still trembled.

This is love? This twisted, uncertain thing?

You had loved him for so long, but now, as he knew you, as he smiled at your confessions—doubt whispered in your mind like a curse.

Could you bear it?

Could you bear this kind of love?

Your fingers curled against the cold marble of the balcony railing, and as you shifted your weight ever so slightly, you felt it—

A creak. A subtle groan of aged, rusted metal.

Ah.

Wouldn’t this be fitting?

You leaned back.

For a fleeting moment, you felt nothing but air beneath you, the weight of the world slipping away.

If mortal love is this twisted, if he does not truly love me as I love him—then I do not want to see his face when he turns away. I would rather fall. I would rather disappear.

Wind rushed past your skin as you plunged downward.

Then-

A force crashed into you from above, warmth enveloping you, and the next thing you knew, you were held.

The impact was harsh, jarring, but not fatal. Pain shot through your body as you landed against something firm, something solid—someone.

Mydei.

He had jumped after you.

You lay sprawled against him on the ground, his body cushioning your fall, his breath coming in short, controlled bursts beneath you.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of wind rustling through the trees, the distant hum of music from the ballroom above.

Then, his voice- edged with something dangerously close to anger.

“What the hell was that?”

Your fingers trembled against his chest. His heartbeat was rapid beneath your palm, a steady, alive thing. He was here. He had followed you.

You blinked, lips parting, but no words came.

Mydei’s grip on you tightened, fingers digging into your arms as he sat up, keeping you close. His golden eyes burned as they met yours, and in them, you saw something furious.

“You knew it was unstable,” he said, voice sharp, accusing. “You leaned on it anyway.”

You stared at him, dazed, heart pounding against your ribs. “You—”

“I jumped.” His voice was lower now, quieter, but no less intense. “Because I was not going to let you die.”

The weight of his words pressed into you, heavier than the fall, heavier than the years you had spent watching him from the shadows.

He had not hesitated. He had followed, without question, without pause.

He had chosen to fall with you.

“You—” your voice was barely above a whisper. “You caught me.”

Mydei exhaled sharply, his gaze softening for just a fraction of a second. Then, with a wry, bitter chuckle, he muttered

“Of course I did.”

And just like that, your world shattered again.

Your breath was still uneven, heart hammering wildly in your chest. Mydei’s grip on you hadn’t loosened. This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go.

You had tested him—you had leaned into the fall, expecting something, anything, to prove to you that this love was as hopeless as you had always feared.

And yet, instead of letting you break, he had caught you.

The two of you were still lying in a tangled heap beneath the balcony, and if anyone saw.. You couldn’t let this moment be ruined.

With a sudden, desperate urgency, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him up with you, ignoring the dull ache in your limbs as you stumbled toward the darker edges of the garden. Somewhere hidden. Somewhere only the two of you existed.

“Mydei—”

His name was a whisper on your lips, but he followed without resistance.

You didn’t stop until you were shrouded in shadows, the only light filtering through the treetops in silver fragments. Only then did you turn to face him, your chest rising and falling as you gathered the last of your resolve.

He was watching you again.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

And then—

“I love you.”

The words fell from your lips like a confession, like a final act of madness, as if speaking them into existence would either set you free or doom you forever.

It was the truth, the one thing you had never dared to say outright. Not like this.

You had spent years proving it in ways he was never meant to see. Through blood. Through silent devotion. Through the careful, careful work of shaping the world around him, removing obstacles before he even noticed they were there.

But now, under the moonlight, stripped of everything but the raw, aching truth, you wanted to see—needed to see what he would do when faced with it.

Mydei exhaled, a slow, measured breath, his expression unreadable. He took a single step forward, closing the space between you.

“And if I hadn’t caught you?” His voice was quiet, yet heavy. “Would you have let yourself die tonight?”

Your throat tightened. “Does it matter?”

His fingers caught your chin, tilting your face up toward him. “It does to me.”

He was too close now. Too close.

He could laugh. He could mock you. He could turn away and leave you in the cold, dragging your love into the grave where it belonged.

But instead—

He kissed you.

It was slow at first, deliberate, as if he were testing the weight of your devotion on his lips. But then his fingers curled into the fabric of your clothes, pulling you closer, and all hesitation burned away.

The world tilted, your mind spiraling, caught in the space between the years you had spent longing for him and the sheer, terrifying reality of having him now.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin.

Your heart pounded.

His fingers traced your jaw, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Tell me,” he murmured, “how far would you go for me?”

You smiled. He already knew the answer.

----

Requester: @yanderebluelockfan

P/s: I even looked up the subtitles of the song in my own language to see if there are any hints to it. I love the vibe tho, listen quite a few time before your request. Still, I'm not sure if it's related at all to your video hahaha, pardon me if it's not to your liking.

At first, I thought of a setting where reader is a creature like vampire or even powerful beings like some sort of god, but that would be easy to guess. So I picked someone normal but capable of doing something extra/abnormal for their love.

I strived for the yearning/longing type of love where reader didn't receive his attention and even doubt his love later on. So.. yeah, we have this.

Sorry for making you wait!

[itzy-bitsy-spidey]

"Maddie screaming and Ozzy's cough (pt.6)"

or "Something made a hole in my backyard pt.6"

Notes: Did I promise this chapter like two days ago? Yes, I did. Did I deliver it two days ago? No, I did not. But the sun shines on Green Hills and I´m finally done writing this thing! This one is the longest chapter yet, and I think that from now on they will only get longer as not to make too many chapters. But until then please enjoy this one!

Part 5

As it turned out Shadow was not half bad company, he was silent and he still distrusted you and just sat broodingly on the chair as you prepared your morning coffe. But he wasn´t all that bad.

It hadn´t been not even an entire day since he woke up, and even though you had fervently insisted that he stayed on the bed while you did stuff around the house he had not left you alone for even a second. You were pretty sure that he thought you were a secret agent of sorts and were going to attack him at any moment.

But, as long as he didn´t attack you first, you were fine with that, trust had always taken time. As for his health he seemed to be a lot better than the day before, if you asked him he would say that he was fine, nevertheless you had seen him wince more than once while walking.

So there you were, grinding coffee beans on your kitchen, while a weird hedghog looked at you as though he could see right through your very soul. And why were you grinding coffee beans, you might ask. Well, because for some reason, out of your knowledge, the old lady that owned the house had a taste for buying coffee beans, and as you were lazy, and did not planned to walk all the way to the store you were dealing with what you were handed. Coffee beans.

"What would you like for breakfast? I´ve got tea, tap water, I think there is some juice left in the fridge, and eventually there will be coffee" You said looking at Shadow before thinking again "Do hedghogs even drink coffee?" you whispered to yourself.

"We also have to find you something to eat..." You turned around to look around the kitchen for at least some bread. And as you had found it, and were stratching in order to grab it, you heard an awful crunching sound behind you.

Tha scene was almost comical, all the way from how you slowly turned to look at the hedghog with a confusion face, to Shadows litlle cheeks looking full as he munched on something, and even the face that you did when you realized that what he was eating was the coffee beans .

"Are you eating the coffee?"

He nodded, a look on his face that read "yes I am, what are you going to do about it?".

"You are aware that that is not how you consume coffee?" Another nod from him "That could seriously damage your digestive system"

"I am the ultimate life form, a mere plant shall not destroy me"

You pursed your lips together and nodded back. Your mind was debating in between worrying for him and laughing at how unfitting his voice was to his tiny body.

"Alright then ultimate life form, would you at least want a spoon?" You asked as you grabbed one for him.

He looked between your hand, your face, the coffee beans bag, and then back to your face; finally he nodded yet again and agreed with a simple "Yes, thank you".

"Alright, as soon as I´m done with this I need to go to my uncle´s house to check up on them and say hi" You told the hedghog so that he would know.

"You are leaving me on my own?" He questioned as he looked at you a little weird, you couldn´t really tell what he was thinking.

"Yes, I trust you won´t get yourself killed in a few hours, just don´t let people see you, if you get bored the tv is in the living room, you´ll entretain yourself" You explained as you finished drinking your coffee and picked up your jacket.

"You would leave me alone, in your home, even though you don´t know me at all? For all you know I could blow up your entire house" You coldn´t know when the guy was kidding, he seriously had such a deadpan-kind-of-angry face all the time.

"Please do not do that, I can´t afford it" You said as you finished picking up your stuff. Meanwhile he just sat there watching you, still eating the beans.

"Ok, bye" you didn´t even noticed when you gave him a little kiss in his forehead as a goodbye, maybe it was just the habit of greeting your parents like that, but it didn´t matter because neither did you see the hedghog looking at you perplexed as you left the house.

✶✧✶✧✶✧✶✧

The walk to your uncle´s hose had thankfully felt rather short, probably because Green Hills was a rather small town and you had rented a hose near his on purpose.

By the time you stood in his front door you were barely tired, but you still took a second to gather your breath, and you were about to knock on the door when you heard Tom loudly speaking with someone.

"You should have told me in the morning, are you absolutely sure about this?" He asked someone.

"I mean he matched the description Sonic gave me, I never saw him, but I just know it is him" You were able to recognize the voice, it was your aunt Maddie, though she sounded kind of electronic, so you assumed they were talking through a phone.

"But that is good news!" Tom exclaimed.

"Tom, he nearly killed you, I´m sorry if I´m not super excited about this" Someone almost killed your uncle? Did all of this had anything to do with his broken arm?

"So you want us to not tell them anything at all? Not even about Sonic and the others? It doesn´t sound fair, and what if he wakes up?" Now he sounded a little worried, and even though you had no idea what they were talking about, you had started to worry a little too.

"I´ll go get him today, I can not have him hurting someone else on my family"

You realized then that you had been eavesdropping for longer than you intended (which was, nothing at all) and so you decided to knock on the door.

You heard your uncle say something like "Wait, there´s someone at he door" and five seconds later he opened up.

"Hey kiddo! I wasn´t expecting you to be here so early" He greeted and hugged you, messing up your hair a little bit on the process.

"Yeah, I just tought that I would drop by, y´know, check you still had your other arm in one piece" you joked as you dropped on his couch as if it was your own house. You had tecnically been raised in this house as well as your own.

"Where´s Maddie?" You asked Tom as he plopped himself besides you and turned off the tv which was playing a telenovela.

"Oh you know she´s out with the kids..." It seemed he realized his choice off words as they slowly faded towards the end of the sentence.

"Kids?" You looked at him as if he had gone crazy in the last 24 hours "Are you feeling alright? First aliens, now kids..."

He almost jumped out of the couch as he started walking towards the kitchen "Oh you know, I meant the animals, she sometimes says her patients are like her kids, so it must have rubbed off on me".

Someone had to give it to that man, Tom Wachowski was no bad liar.

"Mhm... And does she always take Ozzy to the vet with her?" You asked even further, confused for the missing friendly dog.

"No!" He nearly screamed, at that point you had gotten up from your spot and followed him all the way into the kitchen. "Is just that Ozzy had a bad cough, so she wanted to check it out".

"Okay..." You reluctantly agreed to the explanation.

The rest of the morning went by smoothly, you two talked and you even helped him with patching up some holes in the walls that he blamed the racoons for. But lunch was fastly approaching and no matter how sad it made you to leave you had a hedghog to take care of.

But, first, you had to use the bathroom. You told your uncle that much (about going to the bathroom, not about the alien hedghog) and left for the upstairs bathroom, because, you simply liked it better.

As you were done with your business and were leaving the room you noticed something strange, unusual for most of the times you had been to the Wachowski home.

The attic door was down. Right there, in the middle of the hallway.

Assuming that your Uncle had gone up to put something away, or sothing of sorts, you decided to go up to check it out. What you certainly were not expecting was the way the place was fixed up, there were comic books everywhere, a puff, and what looked like three small beds. The sudden sound of the front door banging was what took you out of your inspection.

Quikly you made your way down the stairs, and the closer you got to the front door the more you could hear your auntie screaming.

"...They were not there! And neither was him! I´m telling you, he did something to them!" You could hear her and you were sure that anyone that was outside on the sidewalk could as well.

"Maddie, calm down, they´re okay!" Tom was definitely trying to get a word in, but his wife´s shouts wouldn´t let him.

"What´s wrong, who´s missing?" You asked as you finally arrived to the place they were both standing.

Maddie whipped her head around so quickly you feard she would snap her neck, and then she just looked at you as if she could not believe you were standing there.

Tom telling her that "he tried to explain it to her" went over your head as a fluffy animal walked into the house.

"Ozzy! How´re you doing girl? Is your cough better?" You asked as you petted the animal which was constantly trying to lick your face.

"Are you alright?" Maddie asked as she knelt besides you. You laughed.

"Yeah, why wouldn´t I be?"

That answer seemed to calm her down as she stood up and left to talk to Tom.

"Dad! I know you said we had to go out for some time to take in some sun, but Tails scrapped his knee, and so we had to come back..." You heard a voice that suddenly went silent as it stood behind you.

You turned around, your aunt and uncle besides you.

There, in the front door of your uncle´s house, stood a perfect blue copy of Shadow.

"I´m sorry, why did nobody told me my cousin had come home?" It spoke.

And then you fainted.

Taglist:@boogiemansbitch@vxllys@whoisgami@baby-bloos@sapphireravensworld@mothmanperson@4rm-the-mf-concrete@eliknowsnothing@pooplyface1423

[bennysmiller]

I love your writing! Would you consider writing a short fic where you’re one of Santi’s friends and he sets you up on a blind date with Frankie? Bonus points for Frankie being kind of shy and adorable

Blind Date - Frankie Morales x Reader

Thank you so much for your request!! I really hope this is okay 🩷

I have a friend. He’s single. You’re single. You’re both recently out of long-term relationships. You can awkwardly return to the dating scene together. But seriously, I think you’ll like each other. How does that sound?

You laughed when Santi sent you that text. But two weeks later, you were pacing anxiously in your kitchen waiting for your cab to arrive. You’d partly agreed to the date to shut Santi up, because you knew he’d complain about your complaining if he’d offered you a way out of the single life and you’d refused, without even giving him a chance. Finding a good man was difficult, so it was worth trying, right?

The cab ride to the restaurant was painful, to say the least. You couldn’t help but question if you were doing the right thing, but Santi was one of the few people you actually trusted, and he wouldn’t have set the date up if he didn’t think you’d actually get along.

Five minutes. This Frankie guy was five minutes late. You tapped your fingers on the table, trying to distract yourself from the fact that he maybe got cold feet himself. But out of the corner of your eye, you see a little bit of commotion near the entrance of the restaurant.

A man has a bouquet of roses in one hand, and the other was messing with the soft curls on top of his head. He looked as thought he’d ran all the way there. He was frantically looking around and trying to catch his breath, while also explaining to the wait staff who he was there for.

Someone’s in trouble, you think to yourself. And then it hits you. Man who looks like he’s supposed to be on a date, also looks like he has turned up late to said date?

Then you hear your name. And a few curse words that he muttered under his breath in embarrassment. You look up, and it’s him.

“Shit. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t get off work. Then I realised I’d forgotten to get you flowers. I hope you like roses.” He said, as you stood up to greet him.

“Frankie? You’re fine. I mean, not fine as in handsome, just fine as in ‘you don’t need to apologise for being late’. Actually, you’re fine as in handsome too, but-“

Disaster. Two seconds in and it was a disaster.

He hands you the flowers and you thank Frankie, before gesturing for him to take a seat in front of you.

“Let’s start over, huh Frankie? We both screwed up there.” You say as you settle at the table.

“Sure, I could take a redo at that”, he laughs and he blushes a little when you laugh back.

You just looked so beautiful. Frankie wished Santi had warned him about that.

The rest of the date went better than either of you could have ever imagined. The chemistry was just as Santi had promised in his myriad of texts to you about it. He knew. He always knew. And you needed to thank him for this one.

Frankie was so pleased with himself, he had you laughing all night. Even in his truck, on the way home. The radio was on, the windows were down, and the conversation was flowing so effortlessly. It was a movie scene straight from a movie that the two of you had no idea was only the first part of many.

“I’d love to see you again,” said Frankie, as he admired the way you looked in the glow of your porch light. “If you feel the same, of course”.

“I feel the same, don’t you worry about that.” You smiled at him and kissed his cheek, which took the poor man by surprise. “Goodnight, Frankie”.

The look you gave him over your shoulder as you opened your front door would be thought about until you graced him with your presence a second time.

[nana-luvy]

-> 𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛

warnings: fem!reader, just fluff

“How have you, you of all people, never gotten to bake cookies ?” Luke asked with a gentle smile as he watched you tire yourself while whisking the thick paste.

You added a little bit of milk, as he instructed, before answering.

“I don’t know, my dad wasn’t really the baking type. Or cooking, really,” you simply said, straining a little against the rebelliously thick dough you couldn’t seem to get to tame. “I only ate cookies he bought sometimes.”

You and Luke had been chosen by the rest of the friend group to bake cookies for the upcoming movie night, a task you had absolutely dreaded ever since you’d told him you had never been anywhere near a baking instrument in your life. Connor had made sure there were enough supplies for a whole weekend of eating only snack and had then ushered you two to the sorta kitchen in the Big house, claiming Mr. D wasn’t here so you wouldn’t get in any trouble.

But the real reason why you dreaded the moment was because it meant you guys would be together alone for however long it takes to bake those biscuits, and it was not a situation you wholeheartedly enjoyed. Sure, Luke was your friend, and you loved him like that, but you just couldn’t bare the looks Silena threw your way anytime you were just remotely close, like there was something going on. And you knew very well you’d barely see a scene of the movie before she’d get you alone to debrief whatever nothingness had happened to feed her fantasies.

At least you’d got to learn how cookies were made, now. And boy was it difficult on your arm muscles, like a full blown workout Luke couldn't help but make fun of.

“Really? Well at least now you get I try for the first time in the best of compan-”

Luke's mouth parted in a surprised ‘o’ shape as, after you added a little flour to the mix, you sent it flying his way with a too harsh of a flick of your wrist.

“…sorry…” you muttered, unsure whether you should be mortified or dying from laughter as the boy looked at you with round eyes and white powder sprayed on his face and graying his hair.

His lips closed and opened again as he processed, his hand reaching for the whisk in your hand.

“Luke, look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to d- HEY-”

And as Luke’s mouth stretched into a smug smile when a small cloud of flour flew your way too, coughing out the small amount that got on your tongue, it quickly escalated and got out of hand. You seized the opened pack of flour, grabbing a handful before aiming for the brunette boy and painting his shirt white, before he snatched it from your hands and emptied half the content right above your head, decorating the wooden floor in the process.

And as ingredients flew everywhere but into the mixing bowl, you started thinking maybe baking was funnier than you thought at first.

Your banter eventually died down, panting heavily after you chased Luke around the kitchen island in quick circles while he just looked at you with the stupidest smile on his face. “See ? Pretty fun activity, right ?”

“I think we got side-tracked at some point…”

“How would you know, you never baked cookies before, have you ?”

You shook your head in disbelief, though paired with a soft laugh at his antics, while he could only grin ear to ear, finally stepping back towards you and the actual cookie dough still unfinished.

“I’ll help finish that up, pre-heat the oven, yeah ?”

But you tightly held onto the whisk as he motioned for you to hand it over. “No, I’ll do it, it’s fine.”

“What ?” he said with what could almost be described as a giggle. “You literally colored me white while trying to finish that earlier.” His fingers brushed yours as he tried to take the instrument from your tight grip. “Just let me do it ?”

And as you looked up to refuse while looking in his eyes, you found his eyes really quickly. Because they were really close. And all of a second, you were very aware of his chest pressing on your shoulder, of the small electricity jolts running up your hand where his fingers touched, and of the way his calm breath was hitting your nose from how close he was to your face.

You didn’t move for a moment there, letting the instant sink in, and as you looked right in his eyes you could’ve sworn his gaze had flickered to your lips for a split second.

You hastily removed your hand, letting the whisk clatter against the glass bowl. “I- Yeah, you’re right, I’ll just… deal with the oven. How hot ?” you asked, moving towards the over to put in the right temperature, weirdly wanting to put space between the two of you there.

“Really hot… Um shi- no, I mean, 325 degrees, 12 minutes.”

You set the right temperature, pre-setting the magnetic timer on the over door, before softly dusting the flour off your clothes, softly as to not break the silence that had suddenly fell on the room.

“Sooo… you bake a lot ?” you asked, not really good with awkward silence, trying to fill up the room as you fidgeted with your fingers.

“Baked, past tense. Used to with my mom, sometimes.”

“Oh…”

But even with the awkward beginning, the conversation went flowing right back, again with the harmless banter and casual memory-sharing until the chocolate-chip cookies were out of the oven and the others flooded the room, trying to eat your hard work already before the movie night even started.

As you sat on the other end of the couch, now, the iconic Drew Barrymore opening scene from Scream playing on the vintage TV, you couldn’t help but steal a glance at Luke on the other side of the sofa. And you heart quickened when your gaze crossed his, his head cocking to the side, and he sent you a knowing wink before turning his attention back on the movie.

Let’s say this time you were the one dragging Silena out of the room for a much needed girl talk.

Slowly getting back into writing, the hard part of the year is overrrrr

Love you all <3

- Nana

[disgruntleddemon]

i've racked my brain trying to figure out an in character way for Shifty to be integrated into the better world timeline main cast, but i'm throwing my hat it. they can be a little ooc for this. this is pretty long, so i'll put it under a cut:

sometime after Fiddleford moves in, but before him and Ford are officially together, the trio goes to check on the bunker (ford mentions planning on doing this in j3, so yayyy, an excuse for them to be there)

they quickly realize the cryotube is broken, and shifty has escaped (how did this happen? is that when shifty escaped in cannon? i have no idea, man) anyway, Fiddleford needs to go in with them to fix it, so Ford and Stan are on shifty hunting duty. meanwhile, shifty saw them, and assumes Stan is another shapeshifter

at some point, Ford and Stan get separated, so Shifty goes to Stan like "idk what that guy told you, but it's probably a lie. lets help each other escape!" Stan uses this to lure him to Ford lol

this is where we get the big confrontation/conversation between everyone. shifty wants out cause he was taken by Ford and Fiddleford for the sole purpose of being experimented on and being used to test the cryotubes. he wanted the journal to get new forms as a defense, and to use it as a guide for escape and life on the outside.

he's been playing nice at the moment and not attacking anyone to prove he'll be fine now. he just wants to go to the surface and live his life like he was supposed to if Ford had never found him.

every one else is not sure what to do. well, mostly Ford and Stan. Fiddleford is pretty set on the "put him back in the tube" approach

Ford is really flip flopping, he has a lot of trust issues after Bill, Shifty's original betrayal affected him, and it hurt Fiddleford (which was probably the worst part to Ford). but, he does see Shifty's perspective and feels kind of guilty.

i think i've spent like a week trying to figure out how they settle things, and i'm kinda calling it quits with that too. my best idea is a microchip. basically, Ford points out the cryotube thing really was unethical, and it broke before so it might again. plus, if they just leave shifty down there, he might tunnel his way out anyway, he's already forming some. and finally, killing him would also be unethical, and also a waste of an incredible scientific discovery .

so they decide to chip him and keep him at the cabin as a trial run. not great that shifty's still a prisoner, but i couldn't see them just letting him go. the chip, made by Fiddleford obviously, alerts them when shifty changes shape, if he manages to get it out, and prevents him from going too far out of a certain radius.

as time goes on, shifty is allowed to go further and further, and they trust him more. it's a very slow transition, that's mostly a matter of shifty becoming part of the daily routine. one of those "you can pretty much get used to anything after awhile" things.

i think they realize also, that shifty's still a juvenile. he's true form is still growing and changing. i put him somewhere in the 12-14 range. i haven't decided how they go about raising him just yet, but his human disguise is pretending to be Stan's son. between the mystery trio, stan having a random son makes the most sense.

shifty likes to keep his form kinda close to looking like himself, so if ppl ask about his appearance, he just says he's albino.

the transition period from not trusting him and being a prisoner, to being a proper member of the cabin is one i'm still very undecided on. but for now, i think the summery works well enough. once he's more comfortable with himself and his place in the house, shifty becomes very mischievous and adventurous! he likes doing pranks and getting into stuff

anyways, if anyone has any suggestions about him, i'm very open to it!! he's a hard character to figure out/integrate

[becausegraf]

Oh man, I love this analysis :)

Here be some thoughts this prodded out of me, about where Stolas and Blitz are at individually and as a romantic pair~

Spoiler alert:

This chaper of their story is not about their romance at all.

-

I very much appreciate that they're giving these two the time for the shock to settle, knowing that the whole situation is the result of Stolas' hand being forced and not something either of them maneuvered them into on purpose. As much as 'oh how neat we get the chance to get to know each other better and connect now' is the outcome, that's where the circumstances pushed them, and not something they decided they wanted.

Without the whole court debacle and a life-or-death situation they made it through alive but not without consequences, we don't know if they would have re-established contact to give this another shot already, or ever.

-

Ever since The Full Moon, Stolas' feelings have shifted from yearning and adoration for a version of Blitz that simply isn't the real deal, to the conflicted messy pile-up of being hurt and offended and disappointed and full of doubts about himself, while still very much caring a lot about 'this idiot'. He's gotten burned, he's gotten the ice cold shower, and he'll never be able to just go back to the way he used to view and feel about Blitz. He shouldn't, either.

Blitz isn't unchanged, either. He's finally opened his eyes to how his hissy fits and shots-fired do more than just keep people at a distance - he really causes pain to people whose main mistake was to reach over to pet a feral cat, meaning him no harm, and getting the claws. Blitz can act like a massive raging jerkass, and he's eagerly avoided truly registering the fall-out of his actions, but *he doesn't get any joy out of seeing people hurt and upset*. He's been self-absorbed, not sadistic.

-

It felt right to me, that Sinsmas didn't insist on dragging the two of them into a mushy dreamy tale of how fortunate they are to have each other, and how their close connection in and of itself is some kind of salvation.

That's a soap opera. That's oversimplified fiction. That's untethered from the reality that they're two guys with a complicated history and a lot that they don't know or understand about each other, and haven't even made up their mind about where they're at with each other now. Stolas was at a point where he'd withdrawn after Blitz pretty much broke his heart, shattered the illusion, and then yo-yoed rapidly between 'fuck you, I'm pissed off and unwilling to treat you with even basic respect' and 'fuck I take it all back, tis me who is the mess inside and I do want you to be okay'.

Stolas is taking a careful risk in giving Blitz a chance to do things differently, a chance to demonstrate that he can be trusted after all. A friend who occasionally kicks your emotional shit in, no matter what kind of issues cause them to behave that way, *is not a friend*. Stolas got the claws, and now he's, in a sense, 'doing the stupid thing' and allowing this feral beastie to come in close and beg for pets again.

Granted, the choice to try is more easily made given that he has nowhere else to go. He does need support right now, and Blitz and his crew didn't hesitate to offer it. They're making the best out of a bad situation, but Stolas' primary directive is to *simply get through this somehow*. He has other more dire worries. Blitz is fine - his daughter isn't.

His complicated fussy 'ex' is proving himself to be a mostly reliable and supportive friend, and that's far more relevant right now than having the 'are we ~together and in love~ or not' conversation. They'd never even had a regular casual honest open conversation before all this, and they've had their hands full with just stumbling through practical matters without annoying each other.

-

That they can coexist and not make each other miserable is already a huge deal! Plenty of prospective partners and close friends might find that the person they like spending time with isn't that easy to 'dance the dance' of daily life with at all. It takes patience and giving an earnest fuck about trying to accommodate each other without being overly demanding or making yourself uncomfortable. It takes at least somewhat letting your guard down and allowing someone else to see you as the person you are 'when no-one's looking'.

(Granted, Blitz is used to keeping certain aspects of himself pretty self-contained. He's let some of his feelings spill on Loona but he's also lived with her for somewhere North of 5 years if I got the timeline deets correct, *and* with her he's supposed to mind her needs more than she needs to bother herself with his, he's the parent after all.)

-

I guess, in short, I entirely expect Stolas and Blitz to have a pile of hurdles and conflicting emotions and needs to sort through about their relationship right now. They have beef with themselves and with each other that's gonna have to get resolved rather than pushed aside, and so far, they've (understandably) prioritised the basics over troubleshooting themselves and the romance between them.

To have a song skim completely over this not-so-fluffy reality would do the narrative a disservice, and I'm happy that the final version's song acknowledges the exhausting melancholy Stolas is steeped in so gently and compassionately. Our bird's having a real damn hard time of it, and although nobody can wave a wand and fix it for him or tell him what to do, at least he has people around him that stay near and welcome him and are willing to shepherd him around a bit. They're not letting him just drop off the face of the earth and wither, and honestly...

I think that's actually a first for him, too.

-

Whether he realises it or not, the biggest change for him isn't that he 'moved in with his sort-of-boyfriend', it's that he is no longer an isolated father left to raise a daughter without support - he's part of a family where people, despite it all, care a lot and are there for each other when it matters.

It'll sink in eventually, I'm sure. He has no clue what he was missing out on in the first place! Intimacy and romance has been his idea of 'where love happens', and that's what he'd been yearning for.

It's an amusing parallel with Blitz: 'I've never had a friend I didn't want to fuck/date'.

Blitz was his first friend - his first *puppy crush*. His daughter is not someone to bond with on a level of equal emotional give-and-take, a child shouldn't be their parent's emotional support.

His mother? Not a damn clue where she's been. His father? Absent. His caretakers? Subordinate and distanced. Stella's been at best 'around' and at worst an active detriment to be near.

This owl has been *painfully alone*, and that loneliness isn't being soothed by 'being with Blitz' specifically. It's becoming a part of 'Blitz and his family and friends' and being adopted just the way he is, by people that all together will care about him, and that Stolas can care about in turn without risking getting his soul crushed again.

wait, i don't understand, can u please if u want explain why they scrapped the "Stolitz Montage" song?

Yeah, I can explain! I actually have a lot of thoughts about these songs.

For context, at the beginning of Sinsmas, a song called Day By Day plays in the background while Blitz and Stolas run errands. Originally, a different song (untitled, so Sam Haft—the composer—unofficially called it Stolitz Montage) was going to play during these scenes, but they ended up scrapping it. I mentioned in the tags of a different post that I understood why they'd made this decision.

If you don't want to keep reading, my TL;DR is that I believe the tone and mood of Stolitz Montage doesn't fit Stolas' emotional journey in Sinsmas as well as Day By Day does.

If you do want to read my full personal analysis, keep reading below the cut!

-

(Note: I'm going to focus on the songs' lyrics, because I'm not knowledgeable enough about music to analyse the musical aspect of the songs. If anyone else wants to add their thoughts in that regard, be my guest!)

Let's start by taking a look at the lyrics of the scrapped song, Stolitz Montage:

So you're having a bad time

You're stressing and everything all seems much so

You've been having a sad time

And your family probably hates your fucking guts so

The song starts by describing Stolas' situation and emotional state in the days following the trial: he is sad and overwhelmed, everything feels like "too much", and his family probably hates him.

It's pretty clear from the get-go that they wanted a song for this montage that conveyed Stolas' struggle to adapt to life as a commoner, away from everything he's known, and having gone cold turkey on his depression meds (the lack of which is emphasised visually throughout the song).

The song is also in second person: Stolas isn't him, or me, he's you. This is something both songs have in common. It keeps the song at a slight emotional distance from Stolas. Whereas a first-person song would make the feelings too personal—would make Stolas too aware of his own struggle—and a third-person song wound be too distant, the second person allows Stolas to be only passively aware of his emotional state. He's not the one singing; he's the one being sung about. What he's feeling is being pointed out to him by an external, seemingly omniscient voice.

The song continues:

Ooooh-oh oooh ooh

I know you feel it too

You lost your way

And just can't fake it for another day

It's hard to take it

Just pretend you're gonna be okay

Here is where I think the tone of the song starts to deviate from what they wanted to convey in this montage.

At first glance, this is a continuation of the previous verses, and mostly expands on Stolas' emotional state: "it's hard to take it"; "you lost your way".

The key difference is that the lyrical voice now plays an actual role in that emotional state.

First, it states that it shares Stolas' feelings ("I know you feel it too"—implying that Stolas isn't the only one who feels this way). Thus, the lyrical voice starts shifting into an active character within the scene. And not any kind of character—one that can relate to Stolas and, more importantly, one that can offer some comfort.

Then, there's the line "just pretend you're gonna be okay". Now, I see two possible interpretations for this line. It can either be a piece of advice for Stolas (hey, I know it's hard, but just pretend), or another description of his struggle, a continuation of the previous line: "(it's hard to) just pretend you're gonna be okay". Personally, I lean slightly towards the former interpretation, especially because the lyrical voice's intention to offer comfort and advice becomes clearer in the next line of the song:

You're not okay and that's okay

This is where the focus of the song shifts fully towards a hopeful, even optimistic view of Stolas' situation.

Now, I get where they were going with this. "It's okay to not be okay" is a very powerful thing to say to someone who's struggling with mental illness and hard life circumstances, and it's one Stolas badly needs to hear.

In fact, it is a message that is conveyed to Stolas multiple times throughout the episode. By Blitz. Not through words, of course—but through actions. In the montage itself, as well as throughout the rest of the episode, Blitz constantly stands by Stolas' side, offers him company and comfort, meets him where he's at emotionally, doesn't pressure him to be okay, and (especially at the end in their apartment) gives room for Stolas' sadness and grief to exist. He hugs Stolas, puts his hands on Stolas' arms, and opens up emotionally about his own sister, and those are all ways of showing Stolas that it's okay that Stolas isn't okay.

But here's the thing. The knowledge that it's okay to not be okay is Blitz's, not Stolas'. That is Blitz's emotional state, not Stolas'. Stolas doesn't know it's okay to not be okay, and even though Blitz keeps conveying this message to him, he's not able to hear it just yet. Not this early in his descent to rock bottom.

In fact, learning that it's okay to not be okay is a journey that Stolas only begins at the end of the episode. By then, Stolas still isn't okay, but he begins to come to terms with the fact that that's alright. And he does this by allowing Blitz to sit in silence with him, to dance with him, to pry a laugh from him, to hold him without any expectations of being held back. The final scene of the episode is all about them both being okay even though Stolas isn't. We see this in the fact that Stolas lets himself stay in Blitz's arms, going as far as closing his eyes. He's there. He's finally in the moment. He's finally allowing the "not okay" feelings in his body to just be.

The Stolitz Montage song ends with:

You put one foot in front of the other

Then you take it day by day

Knowing you got nothing

You still got each other

Ooooh-oh oooh ooh

Again, most of these lines do match Stolas' emotional state. In fact, the notion of just living life one day at a time, just focusing on putting one foot in front of the other, is very representative of what a depressive episode can and does feel like.

But, in the very last line, the song shifts right back to a reassuring tone: "you still got each other".

Now, not only does the hopeful, optimistic sentiment of this line belong—once again—to Blitz's emotional state, it also goes directly against what the emotional arc of the episode aims to achieve.

Sinsmas isn't about them having each other—Sinsmas is about Stolas having Blitz.

It takes him all episode to realise this, too. At the beginning, when the montage takes place, Stolas is just going through the motions. As stated above, he's just focusing on putting one foot in front of the other—he's fully on survival mode. During the fight with Andrealphus, Stolas is shocked that Blitz came to save him, that he risked his life. That is the moment Stolas begins to truly comprehend that he can lean on Blitz. And then, after they get home, he slowly continues to learn it, as explained above. By the end of the episode, he's only just starting to allow himself to lean emotionally on Blitz.

And significantly, Blitz doesn't lean on Stolas. Because he's at a very different part of his own character arc, and he already had his opportunity to lean emotionally on those around him with Millie in Ghostfuckers, and to a lesser extent, with all his employees during their mission on Sinsmas.

Blitz has gone through enough pain, character growth, and healing to both understand exactly where Stolas is at, and be able to meet him there and be a rock for Stolas to lean on.

So the reason that line—that last line, positioned strategically to drive home its message that it's all gonna be okay—doesn't work for the montage is twofold. Firstly, because Stolas isn't ready to see that he has Blitz. Secondly, because it is now Blitz's turn to give comfort without needing to receive it in exchange.

And, if we take a look at the whole song, the reason it doesn't work for the scene is because it doesn't meet Stolas where he's at. The song says, "yes, you're sad, but—" and shifts to optimism. It doesn't fully allow Stolas to simply not be okay. To not be there yet. It doesn't fully allow his depression to just suck. The feelings of sadness and overwhelmingness are shadowed by a positivity and hope that belong to Blitz, and not Stolas.

Let's now take a look at Day By Day, and at which ideas from the original song were kept, which ones were changed, how, and why it works:

Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh

You take it day by day

You got everything that you had thought you wanted

But you still feel so blue

And you don't know what to do

Right off the bat, the lyrics are very similar in tone to the ones at the beginning of Stolitz Montage. Once again, a lyrical voice in the second person describes Stolas' emotional state: he's blue (sad), he's taking it day by day.

But there's already a change. "You have everything you thought you wanted, but you still feel so blue".

The fact that Stolas had always wanted a life with Blitz is something the previous song doesn't touch on whatsoever. And it matters, because "what Stolas thought he wanted" is a central part of his arc in the episode. It comes back during his breakdown at the office: "and I did it for what?! These stupid, foolish fantasies?" And it comes back again when Blitz saves him from Andrealphus, and when Blitz dances with him and their eyes meet afterwards.

As stated above, this is the episode where it dawns on Stolas that he has Blitz. But he isn't there yet at the beginning of the episode, and so he still believes what he and Blitz had was just a fantasy of his. And because he's never had anything with Blitz that wasn't a fantasy, because fantasy is all he knows, he doesn't immediately know what to do with the real thing. With the domesticity, and the errands. He doesn't recognise the signs Blitz is sending his way that he's got Blitz to lean on.

These two lines are also important because they bring forth another aspect of depression that the previous song doesn't: that love doesn't cure depression, or make it magically go away. That going cold turkey on your meds and having a massive depressive episode is going to suck no matter how many good things you have in this life, because depression is a biological process, not a state of mind. Depression takes away your ability to find joy in things that used to bring you it. It takes away your feelings, your energy, your strength.

Notice that Stolas doesn't seem apathetic or hollow inside on the night of the trial and the morning after. Yes, he's had his title and power stripped, he's been physically assaulted in the street, and yes, he's worried about Octavia. Obviously, he shows signs of being dissociated, and he's exhausted. But, emotionally, he's still hanging on. He still thanks Blitz for everything, and he talks to Blitz in the morning, and smiles when Blitz offers to get him rats. Before the effects of going cold turkey on his meds start to kick in, he's grateful to be around Blitz.

It's during the montage, as the days go by, that he starts feeling blue. Because depression is very quickly taking away the joy he found in Blitz's company.

And that's why, even in the first few lines, this song conveys Stolas' state of mind so much better than the previous one. Because while the message in Stolitz Montage was "yes, you're sad, but—", the message in Day By Day is "yes, you should be happy, but."

It lets the sad win over the happy. It lets depression take Stolas down with it, it lets him feel helpless and lost. "You still feel so blue, and you don't know what to do."

The song continues:

You're sitting at the end of the rainbow, but the pain grows

And you can't help let the strain show

'Cause what else are you to do?

These lines emphasise the ideas presented in the previous ones: that Stolas should be happy, but he isn't. That the pain that has planted itself in Stolas is growing. So much so that he can't help but let it show.

Stolas' helplessness, his slow descent into misery, are given the room to exist. Everything around him seems fine, but he's not fine. And he's not told that it's okay to not be fine. Because this is Stolas' emotional state we're exploring, and for him, it's not okay to not be fine right now. He's too busy going through the motions to grant himself that kind of mercy.

The song finishes:

Keep it calm, life goes on, and on, and on

Nothing's wrong, nothing's wrong

So why do I still feel this way?

Ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh, ooh-ooh

You take it day by day

And, much like in the previous song, we get a small hint of what could be interpreted either as advice/reassurance from the lyrical voice, or as Stolas actively telling himself to pretend to be okay. "keep it calm, life goes on, nothing's wrong". In this case, though, I lean towards the latter interpretation for a very simple reason: the next line shifts to first person. "So why do I still feel this way?"

And that's the thing: once again, the hope and calm he's trying to make himself feel are immediately overpowered by his feelings of sadness. Once again, it's the sadness that wins over, and not the happiness. His depression is given room to drag him down, take him slowly towards rock bottom.

And once again, the last line—at least the last one before the chorus is repeated—is used to drive home the message of the song. But this time, the message is that, despite it all, despite having what he wanted, despite sitting at the end of the rainbow, despite trying to convince himself he's okay, he still feels sad. Because that's what depression does. No matter how many good things you have in your life, it drags you down.

And that message, in that last line, is delivered in the form of a question. "Why do I still feel this way?" This matters for two reasons. The first one is that it shows that Stolas isn't (fully) aware of what's happening to him. He obviously knows he needs his meds, he knows he should be taking them. We see him reach out for them. But he is also living his emotions, and not just experiencing them from the outside. And as the emotions take over, he loses perspective of where they come from, too caught up in how they're drowning him.

The second reason this matters is because the song and the lyrical voice don't offer Stolas answers.

In Stolitz Montage, Stolas gets an answer to his struggle: that, ultimately, [Blitz and Stolas] still got each other.

But in Day By Day, all Stolas gets are questions. What else are you to do? Why do I still feel this way?

Day By Day meets Stolas where he's at during the days leading up to Sinsmas after the trial. It allows for these questions to exist without an answer; it lets the answers come later in the episode. It lets his journey through the episode play out, allowing him to learn that he has Blitz, that he needs his meds, and that he has to be okay with the fact that things are not okay.

By the end of the episode, he can acknowledge that he made his choices and has to deal with the consequences. He starts to understand Blitz is by his side, willing to help him through this. That his relationship with Blitz might not feel like he thought it would, because he's too mentally ill and heart-broken to be there—but that they still have each other, they still love each other, and they'll be okay.

But during the montage, he's not there yet, and it wouldn't make sense for the song to be there, either.

So, yes, as cute and optimistic as Stolitz Montage is, and as glad as I am they released it anyways for us to enjoy, I believe the writers made the right decision by scrapping it for the episode.

If you read this far, thank you for your time! Please treat yourself to a glass of water for me, and feel free to share your thoughts ❤️

[glassrowboat]

In Your Capable Hands. Mydei.

Summary: Chartonus himself claims Mydei's weapon holds divinity, majesty, and compassion all in the temper of a single spear head, a fitting weapon for a man like him. Regal, seemingly unforgiving, but kind all the same. It's why you never hesitate to take the blade from him even when it's still covered in blood to wash it all away despite the thoughts that still linger in your mind about the man from Castrum Kremnos.

I should not be trusted with my knowledge of blacksmithing// Suggestive //not proofread, but it's 1am for me

The towel in your hands had received one cut already, splitting it in half on the edge of a dull blade. It was desperate to stay together, even if it meant a few scraggly bits of red string dyed in the ichor of life were the only thing keeping it whole; as one.

Beneath the cloth was a spear, one that had also been broken. Time and time again, you had fixed it at the behest of your master Chartonus, only to have to once again piece it back together the next time Mydei had come to the smithy with guilt on his face and an apology for being too rough with your work. Yet he would always do it again.

At first you had told him off, or tried to, as you told him he needed to prioritize his weapon just as much as a man would his life, but....well, it made sense that argument hadn't exaclty resonated with him.

So once again, you sat at your workbench with Mydei waiting paitently at the counter. His arms were crossed as he watched the people pass by. Two little boys had stopped to say hello. To call him their big brother and share how excited they are for their next training session before running along as children do. Another had been one of his own men. They only exchanged a brief nod before they both went along their day. And lastly, there was you: occasionally given a word or two as you worked.

It helped pass the time, so you welcomed it well enough, answering any questions he had about how busy you had been today or your thoughts on the weather. Small talk, really, but it helped keep your mind busy enough and wouldn't distract you from what you were trying to get done.

Finally, you tossed the rag aside. It landed with a wet thwap in the metal bin.

"It's not broken. It just needs some sharpening." You said as you lifted the spearhead up to catch a stray beam of light.

Those with an untrained eye wouldn't even notice the cracks in the blessed metal, but those that could would always see it clear as day. It almost reminded you of kintsugi, but this was your masters work and not someone with an eye for gold who needed to pieceback together a broken bowl.

"That's fine." You heard behind you, Mydei's gruff voice filling your ears now that there wasn't a hammer going to town on an unfinished sword.

"Right, just give me a moment, then."

His head turned back to look at you, golden eye watching as you pried the nails keeping it mounted to the polished shaft and dropped them back down into a tin you kept close by for the smaller objects. It was full of tiny knicknacks just as much as it was full of soot and dust.

"What do I owe you for this?"

"The same as usual."

Meaning: Aglaea would cover it.

He hummed at that, wordlessly telling you he heard what you said.

"You know, with the amount of times I've done this for you, I'd think you would have figured it out on your own." Your hand dropped into the bucket of water at your side to pull out the whetstone. It had been soaking for long enough now, to the point you hadn't spotted a single bubble rising to the top of the water to pop open once it was exposed to the open air.

You wiped your hand off on your pants as Mydei spoke.

"I find it's best to leave this to someone who knows exactly what they're doing."

"If you say so. Or maybe you just can't get the hang of it."

The blade met the rock before you with a soft tap as you adjusted the angle, doing your best to get the proper forty-five degree angle you wanted before starting. The moment you did, you ran the blade up and down the block. You had once compared the grating to nails on a chalkboard, and in a way, you did still feel that same soft withdrawal tugging at you, but it came with a tinge of comfort now instead of a need to make it stop.

Your hands did the rest. Years of practice paying off as muscle memory took over, leaving your mouth free to prattle.

"Well, I can always walk you through it." You offered.

"There's no need."

"It'll be good to know."

His boots thudded behind you, creating a soft click every time the heel met the bricks below you both as Mydei slowly approached to stand behind you. You could feel him towering over you from where you sat. Even when you were standing, he always had to look down at you, leaving you feeling small in comparison, but the way his shadow loomed over you now as it blocked out the light coming from Kephale only made you all the more aware of that fact. "I already know how. I just want to leave the proper care to someone who knows how to treat it delicately."

The grating stopped for just a moment as your hands stilled. "Yeah? So you know that you have to start at the base before working your way up to the tip?"

"I know you skipped honing the blade."

"...Wasn't needed."

Your attention narrowed back on the blade, its distinct smell of rusted blood drowned out by...him. It was obvious he hadn't stopped by the baths to wash off before visiting you, clearly finding his weapon for more importance, leaving Mydei covered in sweat that had yet to be washed away. You had picked it up before when you had taken the spear from him after he had dropped it on the work table, but now it was suffocating you.

Gone was the ash you knew was filling your nostrils and staining the black from keeping the fire beside you both alight and roaring.

"And I would have done it, possibly ruining the blade in the process and having to bring it back here regardless. I'm just being efficient."

The thought to shoot back with the fact a metal blessed by the Titan's themselves wasn't that delicate lingered in your mind, but that thought was quickly quenched by the feeling of metal claws on your shoulder. You could feel the pinpricks of them poking at your skin, just barely digging in. It was cold in comparison to the heat you had been surrounded by all day, making it a welcome change even when you were still on high alert about just who was behind you.

And for some reason, you almost wished his soft hold on you would tighten just enough. You could feel those claws breaking your skin.

"Right. Well....good call then."

You couldn't help but cringe at how you stammered over your words, but it seemed to be enough to satisfy whatever Mydei had wanted from you as he backed away and returned to the spot he had been collecting dust in before.

"What was that?" You whispered to yourself.

Shaking that entire encounter off the best you could, your attention went back to the blade in your hand, now noticeably held at a fifty degree angle.

Wrong.

It was wrong.

Your head shook side to side.

"You know, it might be best to go out and shop for a bit, Lord Mydei. This will take some time, and I want to see about hammering out the dents in your pauldron. Maybe shining it too if you take too long to get back."

You didn't risk looking back at him, not when you were unsure why desire had come over you so quickly.

Not even when you knew he was wordlessly taking off the armor on his shoulder. Each little chime of a buckle being undone made you move your hands a little faster and press the blade just a bit too hard into the whetstone.

You'd have to properly attend to it later. Check it. See if it needs replaced-

You flinched as the bronze metal filled your eyes, the familiar shape of it delicately placed down by your side.

"Calm down. Haven't I told you before that I'm not a mindless brute?"

Swallowing, you got out a yes.

"Then"- His head ducked down, meeting you at the same height to give Mydei a chance to glance at you properly. Your thighs clenched at having him so close, the heat from before having barely even dwindling and now reigniting as if you had used a bellow to cause a stir. Like this, you couldn't meet his eye. Not when you weren't sure if it would mean you would be tempted to break the space between you.

Ultimately, he pulled away. "Forget it."

A moment of silence passed.

"You should leave me your gauntlets as well."

"Fine."

They soon joined the growing pile on your table, rattling it and causing it to tilt to the side now that there was more weight where the one uneven leg was. You had been meaning to fix it, but like many things in your day to day life, it had gone unattended to.

"I'll get to that right away."

"Then we're done here?"

"Yes, Lord Mydei."

He pushed himself away from you, boots thudding against the stone once again as he headed back to the busy street full of colorful fabrics and stalls just waiting to be perused at his leisure. A single merchant had even waved to him, hoping to draw Mydei in with promises of a sale. Their hand hung in the air, yet his eyes turned back to you.

Only to see you staring right back at him. You could only hope the heat you felt in your cheeks wasn't noticeable, or at least could be passed off as a side effect of the sunny day. "Ah, goodbye then."

His hands, covered in callouses and scars painting his fingers to his palm, slid into the pockets of his trousers, hiding away just how big they were. "What time should I come to pick everything back up?"

"Well, given I'm handling your gauntlets, too, I'd say tomorrow morning."

"I'll leave it in your capable hands." With that, he walked away.

You watched for a moment, lips pinched together before dropping your head down to the table before you to groan.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

That's what you were.

You wanted to scream and shout, maybe even go and kick that one beam in the smithy you always abused when you were agitated with your latest project. Anything would do as long as it took the edge off of where your mind was drifting as you looked back at the gauntlet before you, the five clawed fingers curled just so.

Stupid. It's stupid.

And worst off, in your own fit of self-denial, you had missed the way Mydei has adjusted himself in his pants in a desperate attempt to hide himself away.

[vakariansyndrome]

Veremos

This fic is for @vorchagirl as part of the ‘Dellamorte Villa’ server’s first Valentine’s Day exchange.

Summary: Lucanis is sick, and Rook is eager to take care of him. Cooking is his love language, so she will try. Surely an easy feat, no? (Rated M for suggestive language and some stuff.) Whole fic under the cut, but can also be found on AO3, here. Words to know: Es solo sopa: it’s only soup Veremos: We’ll see Esto es venganza: This is revenge Perfecto: perfect

~O~

“You’ve a fever.”

Rook presses the back of her hand to Lucanis’ forehead. He doesn’t move, doesn’t swat her away, which is how she knows she’s right. His skin is too warm, a clammy pallor dulling his usually vibrant umber tone.

He lets out a controlled exhale through his nose. “I’m fine.”

“Sure,” she snorts. “And I’m the Empress of Orlais.”

He arches an eyebrow, decidedly teasing. “I would say you lack the accent.”

“Lucanis.” She levels him with a look. “You’re sick. You need rest. That means I’m staying here, and Harding will manage things with the team.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to.”

A pause. His eyes take an awkwardly long perusal over her face, and she resists the urge to avert her gaze. 

Whatever he finds in her eyes, however, makes him sigh, and he leans his head back against the wall. “Fine.”

“Good.” She stands, already rolling up her sleeves. “I’ll make you something to eat.”

His lips press together into a thin line.

Naturally, she catches it. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Come on, now.” Her eyes narrow.

A beat. Then, slowly, “Just wondering how many ways you’ll attempt to poison me before this is over.”

She scoffs. “Es solo sopa, Lucanis.”

His lips twitch. “Veremos.”

~

An hour later, Rook sets a steaming ceramic bowl down beside him. “Eat.”

Lucanis regards it like a man observing a trap. Carefully, he cradles it in his hands. He lifts the spoon, takes a careful sip.

And stops.

Great, she thinks, her stomach sinking. “Well?” She watches him, arms crossed.

His tongue swipes along his teeth as he nods slowly. His expression betrays nothing, but she sees it—the slight shift of his jaw, the reluctant swallow.

Finally, he lets out a controlled breath. “Bold choice, seasoning it with regret.”

“It’s salt,” she says, incredulous.

“Ah.” He nods again. “I see now. You mean to preserve me for future torture.”

“It’s not that bad.” She squints at him, knowing it is probably worse than bad.

He hums, lifting the spoon again. Takes another sip, lazily, considering, as if weighing how much he values his life.

Then he looks at her, gaze raking over her features before settling on her lips.

“You’ve got that little crease between your eyebrows.” He says instead.

“What?” She cocks her head.

“Right there.” He taps his own forehead. “The one you get when you’re trying very hard not to pout.”

Her lips press together tightly. “I am not pouting,” she mutters.

“Mmm.” Another sip. Another slow swallow. “Not yet.”

Her fingers twitch. She’s tempted to grab the bowl back, but he keeps drinking, unhurried, gaze never leaving hers.

When he finishes, he sets the empty bowl aside with careful precision. Then, meeting her eyes, voice dry as ever,

“Thank you, Rook. That was… filling.”

She groans, turning on her heel. “Next one will be better.”

The smooth lilt of his voice follows her as she stalks away.

“Veremos.”

~

Rook refuses to be defeated by soup. Sandwiches, though—those are foolproof. No boiling water. No excessive seasoning. Just bread, filling, done.

She even makes coffee to go with it. A peace offering. Or maybe a distraction.

Lucanis watches her as she sets the plate and cup down beside him on the cot. His brows lift slightly. “You’re confident about this one.”

“It’s a sandwich,” she says, sitting on the floor beside him. “I’d have to be trying to mess it up.”

With a hum, he picks it up. He takes a bite and stops.

His chewing slows. Rook sees it—the tiny furrow of his brow, the way his throat works around the swallow like it’s an effort. She waits, biting her lip.

Finally, he sets the sandwich down and picks up the coffee instead. Takes a long, slow sip.

She narrows her eyes. “That bad?”

He sighs, setting the cup down. “No, no. I was simply reflecting on how precious life is.”

Her jaw clenches. “It’s just a sandwich, Lucanis.”

“Mm. Is it?” He casts a wary glance at the, clearly, offensive food. “Seems more like an experience.”

What? “Explain.”

He hums again. “You see, at first, I thought I tasted a jam of sorts. But then…no, no, something else. A surprise element.” His brow lifts curiously. “What is it?”

She hesitates, worried. He hates it. “A thin spread of honey.”

“Ah.” He nods, leaning back. “My tongue wasn’t sure if it should be afraid or intrigued.”

“Intrigued is good,” she says, smiling despite herself.

He picks up the sandwich again, inspecting it. “Is it?”

Her smile is now edged with a glare.

He grins—just a little. And then, still holding her gaze, he takes another bite.

She watches, lips parting slightly as he chews; shivering when he makes a soft sound, low in his throat.

“Mm,” he says, swallowing. “Unexpected.”

Her cheeks warm with pride, though she refuses to revel in it. “So you do like it.”

He takes another sip of coffee, warm, chocolate eyes taking her in over the rim. “It’s growing on me.”

Pursing her lips, she snickers. “Liar.”

“Possibly.” His voice is low, and so, so smooth. “But I am enjoying your effort.”

She laughs, shaking her head. “Next one will be better.”

His lips curve against the cup. “Veremos, no?”

~

Lucanis looks marginally better. The fever has lessened, and though the vibrancy of his skin is still lacking, there’s more focus behind his eyes. Enough to mean he’ll be even more insufferable if this meal goes wrong.

She doesn’t let that deter her, however.

Rook sets the bowl and mug down beside him as usual, this time kneeling at his side on the floor. “Eat first,” she says, nudging the soup towards him. “Then the coffee. Trust me.”

He chuckles, and it warms her. “Do I have a choice?”

“No.”

With a delicate arch of an eyebrow, he smirks, clearly amused, yet says nothing.  He takes up the spoon and gives the broth an experimental sip.

There is no missing the moment it hits.

His expression doesn’t change, not at first. But then, gradually, his mouth opens a hair, and she watches the way he breathes, how his grip tightens ever so slightly around the spoon.

“Ah,” he says, voice dipping lower than usual. “I see. Esto es venganza.”

Rook laughs, heartily and full of cheer. “What for?” Barely recovering.

“For my remarks on everything else. Clearly.” He breathes out, and for the first time in days, he looks rightfully awake.

“Good, isn’t it?” she muses.

His tongue pokes against the inside of his cheek. “It’s something.”

“Clears the sinuses,” she offers, biting back a grin.

“And my will to live,” he murmurs. But he keeps eating, as he always does.

She isn’t sure if he does it solely for her benefit, or if he takes some sort of pleasure in being cared for. By her.

Rook studies his mouth, the way his lips part and seal around the spoon, the way he swallows. Her stomach swoops low; a traitorous warmth pools in her core. She turns, abruptly, picking up the cup of coffee.

“Here,” she says, offering it to him. “This will help.”

Lucanis takes it from her hands, fingers brushing hers. Calloused. Warm. He lifts the mug and takes a deep inhale. And then, he pauses.

Rook watches his reaction closely. The way his brow furrows—not in displeasure, but in consideration. The steam curls around his face, the scent of honey and lavender lingering, scintillating and sweet between them.

“You did this on purpose,” he murmurs.

She leans on her elbow on the cot, resting her chin in her palm. “What gave it away?”

“The smell.” He drinks, closing his eyes for a brief moment, savoring.

A heady satisfaction hums through her. “Good?”

His lashes lift, and for once, she finds herself under the full weight of his gaze. “Perfecto.”

Something about the way he says it makes her thighs clench. She swallows, fingers drumming against the edge of the creaking cot. “I do have some gifts.”

His thumb traces absently along the handle of the cup. “You know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you?”

She turns, angling her hips to get a better look at him. Her heart races. “Which part?”

For a glorious second, his eyes dart to her mouth.

“Say it, Lucanis.” She is acutely aware of how breathy she sounds, but can’t summon the will to care in this moment.

The knot in his throat bobs as he takes another indulgent sip. To her chagrin, he doesn’t answer.

A rarity engulfs the stretch between them, stifling. He keeps drinking, slower now, more careful. And something in his demeanor shifts.

His gaze lowers to the wispy steam, his expression stunted and difficult to read.

She feels it immediately, though. Her smirk falters. The moment is gone, and she wonders what in the Maker’s ass she did wrong.

Heaving an annoyed sigh, she rises to her feet. “Next one will be better,” she mumbles.

Silence simmers, and this time, there is no parting word from him.

~

Rook keeps this one simple. No risks. No excessive seasoning. Just warmth, something steady.

Lucanis doesn’t comment when she sets the bowl down, just picks up the spoon and eats. His fever has broken, and he looks better. Less like he’s barely holding himself together, more like the man she knows.

She watches him, the nerves easing in her chest as he eats without hesitation. His brow furrows slightly with each bite, like he’s concentrating, but not in a bad way. Like he’s pleased.

She hones in on the little things she usually keeps herself from studying—the way his lips press together as he chews, the faint scar at the corner of his mouth, the dark, errant hairs along his jaw. He needs a trim. She could offer.

Rook wants to offer.

When he sets the bowl aside, he leans back against the wall, stretching his legs out. He sighs, slow and deep, eyes closed.

She licks her lips. “Your kit. Where is it?”

He cracks an eye open. “Under.”

She kneels, grabbing the small leather satchel, then settles beside him, comb in hand. She glances at him. “Do you trust me?”

A thick dark eyebrow lifts. “I’ve already survived your cooking.”

“Fair,” she mutters with a faint smile, bringing the comb through his beard, slow, careful.

His breath hitches. Not much, just a slight pause, a subtle tension that wasn’t there before. She keeps going, fingers threading through the coarse strands, keeping her touch light.

He swallows. There it is; the way his throat bobs, the way his lips part just slightly before pressing together again.

She shouldn’t be this close. Or maybe she should.

His scent is warm, bergamot and leather and a citrusy, dark Antivan roast. Her attention is enraptured by his mouth, the way his brow knits ever so slightly. The knot in his throat twitches again.

Lucanis is quiet. Not stiff, not pulling away—just still.

She lifts her gaze and meets his eyes. A dark need is mirrored there, heavy, waiting.

Her breath hitches when his fingers curl around her wrist. And the air shifts, thins out in a dizzying wisp of a shared, labored breath. She feels the gentle press of his thumb against her erratic pulse. 

She isn’t sure what takes over her, only that she’s wanted this for so long, and now, for the first time, she can see it in him. The restraint. The fight.

So, she kisses him. Softly. Ghosting her lips over his, warm and real and right.

His shuddering breath makes her shiver, and she lingers, savoring him. Until sense slams into her. What is she doing?

Rook pulls back, heart hammering, thundering deafeningly in her ears. “Lucanis, forgive me, I…”

The words die at the look on his face. She’s shaking, yet he doesn’t let go.

His grip on her wrist squeezes, tensing along with the sharp intake of breath he takes, and before she can move, before she can think, he pulls her back in.

She gasps as he shifts, presses her down, the cot creaking beneath them. Hovering over her, he braces a hand beside her head as he gazes down at her. There is an eddy of desire in his eyes that she wants to be sucked into, straight into its depths until she forgets her own name.

She barely has time to breathe before he goes in for the kill.

All manner of softness and hesitancy are abandoned at the press of his lips, of his tongue slipping into the wet heat of her mouth. He is devouring her, ravenous as he takes his fill. Greedy hands slide up her thigh, squeezing, groping as he groans, grinding himself against her.

The sharp tug of his teeth on her lip, the taste of him on her tongue, his heat enveloping her. She is lost to him, and the only anchor is his touch, rough and gentle in the same breath. Teasing, yet eager to sate an otherwise insatiable thirst.

The way their tongues dance along one another is frantic, needy. Frayed and strained by weeks and months. Her body arches against him, arms wrapped tight around him. Her hands are everywhere, nails raking over his back, tangling in the strands of his hair, cupping his face.

A familiar hunger courses through her, warm and delicious and, oh, how she aches to have him; here, now.

They pull back, panting, their chests heaving, pressed tightly together. Tips of their noses are nearly brushing and eyes locked.

Rook can see herself in the depths of his rich, brown eyes, feel his warmth seeping into her skin, thrumming through her. The rhythm of her heartbeat echoing in the fluttering pulse of her core.

Neither moves for several moments, silent.

Then, Lucanis leans in. What she expects is his kiss, not the filth that leaves his mouth.

“Do you know what I want to do to you right now, Rook? Do you know how much I ache to be inside you, feel you writhing on my cock?” His hips buck, grinding her against the straining length of his arousal. He presses his lips to her neck, sucking and nipping at her feverish skin.

She whimpers, her head lolling to the side as her nails dig into the nape of his neck.

He continues, and she is trapped in a wanton haze of lust that pulls her under without mercy. 

“I want to hear what sounds you’ll make when I tear you apart, piece by piece, over and over again.” 

“Shit,” she answers, reveling in the feel of his lips dragging across her jaw. His grip on her hips is claiming as he drives her closer, undulating encouragingly over her.

Hungrily, his hands slide under her tunic. They are like brands upon her skin, blazing and smoldering, sending ripples of scorching heat straight to the ache between her thighs.

He presses a lingering, heated kiss against her jaw.

Her hips are rolling desperately now, seeking more friction. Lucanis obliges her, his own rocking against her, rewarding her with breathless growls in her ear. She bites her lip, struggling not to moan.

Thrilling, she vaguely recognizes. It is like the moment a fledgling takes first flight, that a Crow makes their first kill, and knows true freedom. It’s that fucking good.

Rook has waited, so very patient, and now, at last, Lucanis is finally hers. And she will have him. Maker’s breath, she is going to fucking ruin this man.

By the time he finally pulls back, it’s at the sound of the dining hall door opening and Taash’s dry, booming voice. Rook is breathless, stunned, her mind spinning—the heat between her thighs incredibly wet.

They stare at each for what she recognizes is less than a second, but feels like an eternity she embraces unabashedly.

Then she chuckles, warmly, bewildered but pleasantly so, fingers still tangled in his silken hair.

Lucanis smirks, a sheepish hint veiling the roguish gleam in his eyes as his breath brushes over her lips. “I take it, you approve?”

A warm snicker leaves her, and she graces him with a grin. “Veremos.”

----

Thanks for reading! <3

[softlypaintedseafoam]

🍓ー thank you for your patronage at the strawberry witch’s bakery! here’s your order!

requested by: a lovely anon 🍓-> ace + strawberry milk (i love you)

"Wrong again," Ace clicks his tongue before making the sound of a buzzer.

"Damn," you give your knee a light slap as Ace chuckles, deep voice rumbling mischievously. "You're definitely cheating," you glare over your shoulder, brown eyes staring back at you innocently. "You spelled it differently that time!"

Ace presses his hand against his chest, mockingly distraught. "I would never," he replies petulantly, not unlike Banshee when she is displeased. "You're just bad at this game. And you owe me pots of stew now." At his stature, you have no idea how the black-haired man can eat as much as he can. Three pots of stew for one person should be illegal.

You cross your arms, "nope," your lips pop. When you agreed to indulge Ace in an old game he'd play with his brother to decide who would order first at a restaurant, you didn't expect to be so bad at it. How hard is it to guess what someone is writing on your back? He has to be cheating, the jerk. It is the only remedy for your half-sore, half-amused ego. "I demand a rematch."

"Someone is just a sore loser," Ace mutters but there's a smile in his tone. "But alright," he relents, tapping a finger against your back. "More food for me then! Should I start adding different dishes to the menu?"

"How about when I win this time," you pucker your lips resolutely. "You cook me something. Thatch must have taught you something back then." You're sure you've never seen Ace cook a day in your life, let alone back during the time he was merely a guest on the Moby. You recall the days of a more belligerent captain of the then Spade Pirates with a smile. Ace hadn't been particularly fond of you to start ー you who had only joined the crew a year prior ー but that is old news now. "I want something fancy too!"

Something with so many intricate steps that karma will serve undue justice on your behalf.

"The most I can do is make sure something's well-cooked," you hear the satisfied smirk even without seeing it. "I can share my stew with you, if you want."

The laugh leaves you before you can help yourself, "you mean the stew I'm making in the first place?"

A forehead presses against your shoulder and you half-expect to hear snores until you feel him laughing against you. "Yep," he snickers, skin pleasantly warm against yours. "It's the thought that counts right?"

Affection surges through your person and you sigh wistfully. "You're helping me make it in that case," you click your heels together. Thatch will simply have to trust his kitchen will be fine even with Ace moving in it as more than just a taste-tester. "Alright, let's go! No cheating this time, I'm onto you."

With an amused sigh of his own, Ace relents tracing the words against your back at a deliberately slow pace compared to the last few rounds. Your cheeks feel a touch warmer and your heart more full when you 'I love you' is what you sound out.

[yooniebub]

CSC pt. 2

taste me - @thedensworld

Can't friends taste each other? Seungcheol didn't know the answer. But he was certain that it'll be fair only if he could also taste you.

nom nom - @svtiddiess

After what seems like years of asking, your boyfriend has finally allowed you to bite his tiddies.

hit the books, hit the sheets - @hoshifighting

Where after weeks with your face buried inside of books on the brink of exhaustion, however, when the day of the exam arrives, your hard work pays off as you receive notice of an outstanding grade—an A+. Overwhelmed with pride and joy, Seungcheol decides to reward you for your dedication.

Seungcheol + mutual masturbation - @/hoshifighting

villain! cheol - @/hoshifighting

After facing constant rejection from your own boyfriend, you discover he’s a superhero flying around the city. Seungcheol, the so-called 'villain,' stepped in when you were left as bait, exposed to your boyfriend's enemies. It turns out, he's the one who truly took care of you.

gym rat roommate! cheol - @/hoshifighting

whenever we breathe ft. jww - @sluttywoozi

Weed always makes you a bit looselipped, especially around your two best friends, Wonwoo and Seungcheol.

(boy) friend material, pt. 2 - @/sluttywoozi

You'd think that, having matched with Seungcheol on a dating app, you would be, well, dating. You suppose you're lucky, but not that lucky.

black butterflies and deja vu -@ssentimentals

kiss a falling tear - @ssentimentals

kiss out of lust - @/ssentimentals

[20:08] - @hwanghyunjinenthusiast

cheeks are read like cherries in the spring - @scarletwinterxx

opposites - @gyubakeries

achilles' heel - @pochaccoups

after a knee surgery, your boyfriend feels off about his body. you’re determined to show him just how much you love it.

untitled - @woozivrse

[16:14] - @hannyoontify

untitled - @nonranghaes

untitled - @/nonranghaes

ex-conomics - @100vern

you supported seungcheol through years of being an aspiring athlete, and all you got to show for it was your undergraduate degree and an awkward, stuttered apology when he dumped you to go semi-pro. now he’s back after an injury derailed his career, and there’s only one problem: you’re the only one available to tutor him. you - 0; the universe - 1. talk about no return on investment.

rainy day with Seungcheol - @papajohnnyspizza

You and Seungcheol decide to spend a lazy morning together.

soft pillows, warm hugs - @babyleostuff

sleepy choi seungcheol means many things - dramatic, adorable, and very kissable

Seungcheol just needs a break from studying! - @cherrybr4t

remind me - @milfgyuu

You’ve had a little too much to drink at your sister’s wedding and can’t understand how or why Choi Seungcheol of all people is assigned to babysit you.

untitled - @etherealyoungk

coups fucking you against a wall - @love-strike

seen - @casuallyimagining

"you know that makes no sense, right?"

untitled - @wqnwoos

you are in love - @simpxxstan

[2:24am] - @soonyoungs

amnesia - @sailorrhansol / @sailorsoons

Choi Seungcheol has never been the type to commit to relationships - casual is more his thing. You’re fine with that - except you and Seungcheol seem to be terrible at casual when it comes to one another. 

untitled - @seungcheorry

pov - @bookyeom

pov by ariana grande

i wanna love me the way that you love me for all of my pretty, and all of my ugly too i'd love to see me from your point of view cause nobody ever loved me like you do

when in Rome - @highvern

After months of no contact, Seungcheol isn't sure what to expect when he sees you again at Jeonghan's wedding. He's prepared to apologize, to grovel, to bear the weight of a cold shoulder. Whatever it takes to have you back, his best friend since diapers; or whatever will ensure the last third of your trio has the best day of his life. But when he overhears the most recent development in your relationship, he must come to terms with something he was never prepared for, or risk losing you for good.

[uhhlifeig]

Candy - Feb. 9th - word count: 299 - @wolfstarmicrofic

“Shhh,” Remus hissed as he was jostled around by three- well, two, actually- of his best friends. “You’re being too loud. And you’ll squish Wormy.”

He patted his breast pocket. Wormtail stuck his head out and squeaked.

“Okay, fine, Moony,” Sirius grumbled, rolling his eyes. “Why are we doing this right now, again?”

“Ask James,” Remus said. “It was his idea, after all.”

“Well,” James said as all eyes turned on him (metaphorically, of course, since it was cramped under the Cloak). “It’d be fun to do this like how we did it in third year, right?”

Remus internally facepalmed, seeing that if he actually did that he would smack multiple people in the head. “James, we are in sixth year.”

“So? There’s still a lot of space-”

“There is not. We’re lucky our feet don’t show, right now.”

“C’mon, Moony-”

“Yeah, c’mon, Moony,” Sirius chimed in. “Let’s just go get some candy, yeah?”

“Fine,” Remus huffed.

As the Marauders made their way down the tunnel in the witch’s back, they realized a couple of things.

First of all, it would be quite difficult to get all the sweets that they were planning on buying out of the tunnel.

Second, it was realized that once Sirius had straightened up properly, people were able to see the Marauders’ shoes. 

And since Sirius was getting back cramps-

“No, Prongs, love of my life,” he whined as James and Peter went down the tunnel to Honeydukes together, leaving Remus and Sirius alone. “Please, no-”

“I’m sorry, Pads,” James called back. “I must leave you for the call of chocolate.”

“No,” Sirius wailed, grinning. “The betrayal.”

Remus huffed a laugh from where he was sat next to his boyfriend. “You twerp,” he muttered fondly. “Love you.”

Sirius kissed him. “Love you too, Moons.”

[bitchinbarzal]

Almost Hate | M Boldy

Summary: a reconciliation with Matt wasn’t in the cards for you.

-

Boston College had been big enough that you and Matt could’ve easily avoided each other. But for some reason, the universe had other plans.

From the moment you met, there was something off between you. No real reason, no dramatic backstory—just a constant, simmering tension that neither of you could shake.

Maybe it was the way he always seemed to have some cocky remark ready when you walked into a room. Or the way you refused to laugh at his jokes, even when they were actually funny. Whatever it was, it had followed you through four years of college, through mutual friends and shared parties, through stolen glares across campus.

And then, after graduation, life happened. You moved on. He moved on. That part of your life was over.

Or so you thought.

Minnesota was never the plan. But when a job offer came, one too good to pass up, you packed your life into a couple of suitcases and made the move.

You had been here for a few months now, slowly settling in, figuring out the rhythm of a new city. Which is how you ended up at a bar downtown on a Friday night, sipping your drink and regretting not leaving earlier.

Because the guy standing next to you? The one who had been trying way too hard for the last ten minutes? Yeah, he wasn’t getting the hint.

“Come on,” he says, leaning in just a little too close. “One more drink.”

“I’m good, thanks,” you reply, shifting back.

“You sure? Because—”

“She said she’s good, man.”

The voice is familiar. You turn your head and—of course, Matt Boldy is standing there, hands in his pockets, looking at the guy like he’s debating whether or not to shove him away from you.

The guy scoffs but mutters something under his breath before finally walking off.

You exhale, turning to face Matt fully. “Boldy.”

His lips twitch. “Still calling me that, huh?”

You roll your eyes. “What are you even doing here?”

He shrugs. “Live here. Play hockey here. What about you?”

“Same. Minus the hockey part.”

His gaze lingers on you for a moment, like he’s piecing something together. “Didn’t think I’d see you again.”

“Yeah, well. Life’s funny like that.”

The tension between you is still there, but it’s different now. Less sharp edges, more… curiosity.

He clears his throat. “Let me walk you home.”

You raise a brow. “Excuse me?”

“Just—” He shifts his weight, looking a little unsure for the first time ever. “It’s late. And that guy might still be around. Just let me make sure you get home safe.”

You hesitate, but the sincerity in his voice makes you nod. “Alright, fine.”

The walk to your apartment is quieter than you expect. The city hums around you, streetlights casting long shadows, and Matt walks a step closer than necessary, like he’s making sure no one gets too close.

It’s nice.

Weird. But nice.

When you reach your building, you turn to him, crossing your arms. “So. You save me from a creep and walk me home. What’s next? We pretend we don’t know each other for another five years?”

A smirk tugs at his lips. “Actually… I was thinking I’d ask you out.”

You blink. “What?”

He scratches the back of his neck, suddenly looking almost—shy? “Look, I know we had that whole ‘hate’ thing going on in college, but I don’t think I actually hated you.”

You narrow your eyes. “You don’t think?”

He chuckles. “I know I didn’t. I just—” He exhales, meeting your gaze. “I don’t know what it was, but it wasn’t hate. And now that we’re here, and I’m walking you home, and you’re still you, and I still… notice you—” He shakes his head. “I don’t want to waste time pretending anymore.”

Your heart stumbles over itself, but you keep your expression neutral. “So what are you saying?”

“I’m saying—” He steps closer, eyes flicking to your lips before locking back on yours. “Let me take you out. No tension, no bullshit. Just you and me.”

The old part of you—the part that remembers all the snarky remarks and stolen glares—wants to push back, to challenge him, to keep whatever this is at arm’s length.

But the new part of you? The one that sees the way he’s looking at you right now?

That part says, Why not?

So you tilt your head, smirking just a little. “Fine. But if you annoy me, I’m leaving.”

He grins. “Fair deal.”