#and why would you even throw that assumption out there? its happened a couple times recently & you also said on speaker at work last week-

[heyitslapis]

Even when I thought we had boundary of just friends, she confuses me.

I tell myself to ignore it. That it's just a game for her and that she really is just comfortable with me as a friend.

But we all went out Sunday night (you, me & Sam). You asked us again if Sam & I were still "not a thing." We both told you the truth (for like the 10th time): we're not a thing. There's no sort of situationship or anything like that. We're just friends.

**((also I fucked up one of my tags I meant to say that Alice told buddy boy that I threatened to kill *him* again, not that I threatened to kill her. He sounded really serious when he said "i promise v, im leaps and bounds better than anyone shes had before. I would never hurt her." I said "Oh, im sure. Its because thats who you are Ty. Thats what you and I do. We protect people." I'll be so honest yall i was crossfaded as fuck because i was running iff 3 hours sleep & literally no food almost the whole day leading up to our outing. NOT doing that again jfc))**

[harry-on-broadway]

Fancy Dress

Word Count: 3.4K || Rating: M

A/N: So this was supposed to be posted in time for Halloween, but better late than never I guess. It can be read on its own, but I've been thinking of it as a sequel to last year's Harryween one-shot. It's not much, but I hope at least a few people enjoy it. 🫶🏻

***

“Gonna dress up for me again this year?” 

Those words had echoed through your head since he’d whispered them in your ear as the first glimpses of dawn pushed through the cloudy London skies. His body, warming yours as he inched closer to you on your pillow, threw off heat, stronger than any radiator you’d ever encountered, and you scooted closer to him in an attempt to ward off the chill of the room. 

“What are you talking about?” Your voice was hoarse, still thick with sleep. 

“For Halloween.”

“You hate Halloween.” You twisted in his arms to roll over and face him. “You’ve made that clear many times.”

“A man can change his mind.”

You sighed. “What happened to ‘Tour’s over. Let’s do something quiet this year?’ Hmm?”

Harry traced a line down your spine and you shivered under his touch. “Doesn’t have to be a big deal. Can be just the two of us.” 

“Well, I’m planning on dressing up as ‘woman who wants to snuggle and eat candy with her boyfriend.’ Accessories include sweatpants and a hoodie, as well as candy and an Apple TV remote.” You felt his laugh against your hair. “Best news of all, it’s a couples costume,” you continued. 

“Oh is it?” 

“Mmhmm. And if you don’t want in, it’s OK. I’ll just call my other boyfriend.”

“Your other boyfriend?!?!” Harry easily flipped you so you were lying trapped underneath him and began pressing feverish kisses against your skin as he tickled your sides. “You better take that back.” 

“Giovanni would never do this,” you laughed.

“He has a name?!” 

You laughed even harder as Harry doubled down on his efforts, forgetting about Halloween all together. 

***

Harry didn’t let the topic rest over the next couple of weeks, sending pictures of costumes – some tame, some a little sexier – throughout the day, earning a fair number of eye rolls from you. 

“What? I’m just trying to brainstorm.”

You looked up from your computer. “Why is this so important to you? Halloween’s never been a big deal. And it’s essentially been a work event for you for the past two years.” 

“I mean,” he shifted in the seat. “Last year was really…nice,” he said thoughtfully. “I liked getting to spend time with you.”

“You liked having sex,” you corrected. 

“Which technically counts as spending time with you.” He ignored your glare and turned thoughtful. “I’m just kidding, but really, I liked getting to spend a fun night with you and would love to do it again. If you feel the same way.”

You softened hearing how much that night meant to him. “Doesn’t it feel less special when it’s not a surprise?”

“I’m going to be honest, love, I really don’t care how it happens as long as you’re naked in my bed.” There was a slightest hint of a blush across his cheeks, and you felt a heat flame across yours as well. You’d been together for awhile now, with no plans of leaving each other anytime soon, but such an intimate admission felt vulnerable.

“You are such a boy,” you chided, not willing to let him onto the jolt of pride you felt at being so openly desired by him. “But we’ll see how I feel.” 

“I can work with that,” Harry said, turning back to his phone, a sly grin on his face.

***

The invitation arrived a few days later. A friend of a friend who he hadn’t seen in ages was throwing a “fancy dress party,” which despite your early assumptions was not a black tie affair. You weren’t that enthusiastic about going, and you could tell Harry was forcing himself to be excited, not wanting to let a friend down. 

“It’ll be fun,” he said, sounding more like he was convincing himself rather than you. “We don’t have to stay the whole time either.”

“Whatever makes you happy, babe,” you said, kissing his cheek. “Pick out whatever costume you want and we can go from there.” 

Picking the costume was easier said than done and the two of you spent much of the next week bickering over who had the better idea. Harry’d been pushing for Barbie and Ken, but you’d dismissed the idea as overdone. And your own suggestion of Paolo and Isabella was shut down by Harry who said he didn’t get the reference. It wasn’t until you all were flicking through the channels on the couch when you all came up with your idea. 

“It’s perfect,” Harry said, grinning at the screen. 

“And super easy,” you added. 

Which is how you all found yourself walking into the party dressed as two characters out of The Notebook, thanks to the blue dress you’d found in the back of your closet and the white button down Harry had pulled from his. You’d offered to splash some water on him to add authenticity, but he declined. 

You weren’t sure what you were expecting but the party was a surprisingly low-key affair. Classic simple costumes – vampires with plastic fangs and lipstick blood stains and black cats with felt ears – mixed with some that were more of the moment, ranging from a half-assed Barbie and Ken to what appeared to be Harley Quinn and the Joker. 

“Told you,” you whispered against his ear, as he passed you a drink, looking on as a Barbie walked by looking for her Ken, earning you an elbow to the ribs. 

“Nice look,” Johnny said, fixing a drink of his own. “How did Harry convince you?”

“It was actually a group effort,” you said, with a laugh. 

“Felt a little like fate. We were watching TV one night, the movie was on and it was like a lightbulb went off,” Harry said, wrapping his arm around you. 

“It was easy too,” you chimed in. 

Even though you all had been together for a while, Harry’s circle was so vast that you still hadn’t met many of them, making the party a little nerve wracking, a bunch of faces that weren’t familiar yet. But Harry stayed by you the entire night, hand in hand, steering you around the party, introducing you to his favorite people, and shielding you from the ones he wasn’t as fond of. Going into the evening, you all had made a pact to stay for only an hour, but two had passed by the time either of you looked at the clock. 

“OK to stay a little longer?” he asked and you’d nodded, before turning your attention back to Erin and her story about a costume contest gone wrong. 

Three hours in, you found yourselves on a couch in the back of the house. The room had unofficially been designated at the quiet zone, with a few people taking calls or a breather before returning to the party. Harry flopped down on the end of the sofa, pulling you onto his lap before sighing contentedly. 

“Are you tired?” You rested your forehead against his as pressed a gentle kiss to the bridge of his nose. 

“A little.”

“Well that’s too bad,” you said softly. “Guess I won’t be able to give you your treat tonight.” 

At the mention of the treat, he perked up tremendously. “I mean I’m not that tired. I’d hate to miss it after you put in the effort.” His eyes were steely as he held your gaze. 

“You don’t even know what it is!”

“Doesn’t matter. I don’t think you could ever disappoint me.”

You grinned and shifted in his lap, causing your dress to slip up and you guided his hand up your bare leg to rest just under the hem of your dress. His fingers groped blindly and when they reached the edge of your lacy undergarments his eyes widened. 

“Oh fuck,” he whispered against your neck. 

“Do you like it?”

“Do I like it?!”

“I mean you haven’t seen it yet…” 

“I’ll bloody well be pleased with anything you wear,” he breathed against your neck. 

“Thirty more minutes and then we’ll head out?”

“Fuck that, we’re leaving now.” He gently pushed you up and out of his lap before standing and nearly dragging you to the door.

Harry made a beeline for your coats and bags, and when he had them in hand he caught your eye and nodded towards the front door. You held up a finger and signaled for him to wait before enacting the second phase of your plan. Slowly, you walked up to the first person you could see, thanking them and chatting some more about the party. You repeated this for the next person and the next and the next, until you finally found yourself reunited with Harry. 

“Ready?” you asked. 

“It’s not funny.”

“What?” you asked, feigning innocence. 

“Making me wait when I’m…” Your eyes drifted down to his pants. “How bad is it?” he asked, almost wincing. 

“Not bad, baby, but we should probably do something about that.” 

“You don’t say? Please, for the love of God, get in the car.” 

You laughed, enjoying having him beg for you. “Whatever you say.” 

What followed was the most tense car ride in recent memory. Harry’s leg bounced up and down, his hand gripped tight on your thigh as he looked ahead. His breathing was even and measured but the intensity in his eyes told you he felt anything but. You smiled, pleased with the effect you had on him. 

When the driver pulled through the gate, Harry thanked him, quickly and politely, and you did the same, scurrying along when Harry all but pulled you up the path, jamming his key in the lock and throwing the door open. You closed the door behind you, securing the deadbolt when Harry spun you around and pressed you against the door. 

He held your face, angling it to look up at him and he took a shaky breath, before pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was surprisingly restrained, almost chaste, but you savored the way he felt so close against you. Again and again he kissed you. Lips, neck, cheeks, no part of you went unnoticed. You wanted to show him the same affection, but he wouldn’t give you the chance. His hands found your shoulders, pulling your coat off, and then working the straps of your dress down your shoulders, his lips trailing in the wake of his hands. 

After a few moments, you managed to pant out a single word. “Upstairs?” 

Harry pulled back, his lips plump and pink from his efforts, his hair messed from the way your fingers had been threaded through it. “Yeah,” he managed to nod, looking dazed, and you took the lead this time, pulling him towards the stairs. 

In your haste to get to the bedroom, you tripped, over the step or your own feet, you weren’t sure, and landed face first on the carpet, Harry tumbling down after you. 

“If you wanted me on top of you love, all you had to do was ask,” Harry muttered, as you shoved his shoulder. “Are you OK?” 

“I’m fine. You?” 

“No worse for wear. Shall we try this again?” He pushed up from the stairs and offered his hand, which you gladly took. Slower this time, you all continued up the stairs and into the bedroom, where Harry sat on the bed, pulling you onto his lap. “Sure you’re good to do this.” 

You nodded. “Yes, I just need a minute to get ready.”

“Get ready?” Harry arched his brow. “Tell me more.”

“You need to close your eyes.”

“Close my eyes…OK.” He shut his eyes and you wriggled out of his grasp, walking over to your dresser and doing your best not to make a sound as you fished around for the headband you’d stashed there earlier. 

“What is this?” Harry called from across the room. “Some sort of Notebook roleplay? Do you have a thing for Gosling too?” 

“Hush, or you’re not getting your treat.”

That silenced him and you double checked to make sure the accessory was secured on your head. You shimmied out of your dress until you were wearing nothing but your second costume. If you were honest, costume was a liberal description of the flimsy Halloween store lingerie you ‘d been wearing all night. According to the package, you were a dark angel, but the only thing angelic about it was the halo that was precariously perched on top of your head. You stood in front of the mirror, surveyed yourself and tried to summon the confidence to tell Harry to open his eyes. 

“Are you taking your clothes off? I thought that was my treat!”

It was almost funny how outraged he sounded, like a petulant child robbed of a promised prize. 

“Oh I think, you’ll like what I’ve picked out for you,” you shot back. At least you hoped he would. Once you contorted yourself into the black wings that came with the ensemble, you turned to face him, still sitting on the bed with his eyes shut. You padded over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck, as you climbed astride him. Once you’d settled into his lap, you uttered the word he’d been waiting for. “Open.”

His eyes flew open and you had to fight a laugh at how comical his face was. Eyes wide and mouth open he was like a teenaged boy who’d yet to see a pair of breasts, as he glanced between yours, covered in a sheer, lacy bralette and your face. 

“Fucking hell what is this?”

“You said you wanted me to dress up…”

“Yeah, I did. I did say that,” he said, wetting his lips, his eyes transfixed on your chest. 

“And I didn’t really know what to dress up as since you weren’t doing a show this year and we didn’t really have a theme and I couldn’t think anything on my own and this was the only thing left at the store and –” 

He cut you off with a kiss, more passionate than those he’d first given you in the entryway. “It’s perfect, love. Better than I could have imagined.” 

He held you tight against him as he kissed you, his fingers tangled in your hair and yours in his. You tightened the grip of your legs around his waist as you returned his kisses with a passion you didn’t think you’d ever felt before. In the heat of the moment, you rolled your hips, dragging your center over his lap and feeling every inch of his growing erection through the flimsy fabric of your panties. You moaned at the sensation and did it again. He felt even harder than before and you shuddered involuntarily at the thought of him inside you later. 

“You like that baby,” he huffed against your mouth. “Does my angel like that?” he asked as he bucked his hips. 

“Yes. Yes, please,” you replied, practically begging for more. 

“Going to be good and let me take this off of you?” His hands were on your hips, stilling your movement. 

You closed your eyes and bit your lip, nodding, not trusting yourself to speak. Suddenly you felt Harry’s teeth against your shoulder as he used his them to pull your bra strap down, the movement scratching at your skin in the most delicious way, before Harry trailed kisses down your arm, soothing the sting away. He repeated the action on the other side before placing a kiss on the side of your breast and wrapping his tongue around your nipple. Hands still on your hips, he gently pushed you, encouraging you to rock back and forth on him once again. 

You were so sensitive that even the smallest action had a massive effect. The combination of his mouth and the rhythm of your hips moving in time together had you feeling the beginnings of an orgasm deep within you, a feeling that was only magnified as he moved across your chest to your other breast. 

“Love,” Harry said after a moment, pulling away from you. 

“Yes?”

“I-I-” He started again. “We need to do something otherwise I’m not going to last.” His cheeks were red, whether from passion or embarrassment, you weren’t sure, but you nuzzled against his neck. 

“That’s alright, baby. I’m all yours.”

“Yeah, you are,” Harry said, almost as if he didn’t believe it. “Wanna get up for me?” 

You climbed off of him with wobbly legs, nearly landing on your ass – and taking Harry with you – in the process. But Harry scooped you up in his arms, helping you get comfortable on the bed, as you all laughed off the moment of clumsiness. 

“Do you want to take this off?” you asked, gesturing to the cheap black wings that were shedding all over the white sheets. 

“No, I kind of like them,” Harry said. “It’s uh…kind of sexy,” he mumbled, against your neck. 

“Noted.” 

“May I?” He’d hooked his fingers around the waistband of your panties, waiting for your nod of consent, which you readily gave him. He slowly pulled them down your legs, tossing them somewhere behind him, before moving his lips down your body. 

It was almost a ritual at this point, the way he explored you as if you were uncharted territory each time he had you naked in front of him. You’d been told this wouldn’t last forever, that all couples eventually tired of each other, that sex became a routine thing, a means to an end. That may be the case, but you secretly hoped that you and Harry were the exception to this rule. 

He’d made his way down to your thighs at this point and you opened your legs wider, inviting him in. Your back arched when you felt his fingers inside you, testing the waters. 

“So wet for me already and I’ve barely done anything. Careful love, this will go to my head.” 

You made to kick him, but he dodged your attack and managed to hit that spot in the process, drawing a cry from you. 

“Was that good?” You could hear the teasing smirk in his voice. 

“You know it was.”

He crooked his fingers, earning another moan from you as you tried to pull him up to you. “Ready so soon?” he asked, as if he wasn’t already aware. He lined himself up with you and thrust forward with no preamble. 

His sheer size still took your breath away – quite literally – and you breathed heavily at the feeling of him, all of him, inside of you. 

“Easy, love. Slow,” he said, calming you as he gave you a moment to adjust, waiting until your breath had steadied before gently rocking forward.

You angled your hips up, meeting his pace and trying to drive him as deep inside of you as possible. You brought your legs higher around him, giving him more freedom to move and his pace accelerated. 

The sounds coming from your bedroom were, quite simply, ugly. Between the moans and groans and heavy breathing, the grunts that meant move over or shift this way that you all inherently understood, the sounds of sweaty bodies rubbing against each other. It was brutal, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“Love, I’m going to come,” Harry said, words urgent against your ear. “I’m not going to be able to hold on.” 

“It’s OK baby,” you said, encouraging him. He was always so selfless, you wanted him, just once, to take a moment for himself. “Just let go.” 

His hips stuttered, once, twice, three times in quick succession and you felt the tell-tale warmth and wetness of his orgasm between your legs. 

“Oh, fuck, I’m so sorry,” he wheezed. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise.” 

You sighed softly, contentment radiating through you. “You don’t have to. Sometimes it’s nice to just…” 

“Yeah…” 

The two of you lay there like that for a while, ignoring the stickiness of the sweat, and for you, the itchiness of the costume pieces that were still on you. 

Finally, Harry rolled off of you, and you cuddled into his side. 

“That was a very nice treat,” he said, voice hoarse. “I think we both need more treats.” 

“I’ll second that. And I promise next year will be even better.” 

“Next year?” Harry said aghast. “I think you deserve one of your own right now.” 

***

talk to me! || master list

[kalinara]

I’ve mentioned this before, but one of the things that’s really notable about “Beard After Hours” or really Season 2 as a whole is how it spun my perception of the Beard/Ted dynamic on its ear.

There’s a great post going on about how no one told Jamie that Rebecca, rather than Ted, traded him away.  And folks made an interesting point that we don’t know how much BEARD knows about Rebecca’s plans or intentions.

It occurs to me that in season one, even by the end, I’d always had the assumption that Beard did know.  I figured that Ted had told him.  Beard’s the mysterious and stoic guy, Ted’s the talkative and emotional guy.  Of COURSE, Ted must have told him.

But...when would he have told him?  If we look at the timeline for episode 9, we can see that there really isn’t much time for that: we have Rebecca’s confession, then Beard (and Nate) avoiding Ted because he won’t bench Roy, then the disastrous pub fight...”fight” probably is the wrong word there because that implies two sides to an argument instead of what actually happened: which was an explosion in which Ted didn’t say a word in his own defense.

So he wouldn’t have said it in that episode.  He might have said it later.  Maybe.  But we know how Ted loves to talk about things that hurt.  And we know how Ted loves to throw other people under the bus.  (Enough Chandler Binging, right?)

The interesting thing about Season Two, with regard to these two, is that things seem to be the reverse of what I assumed.

As early as Goodbye Earl, we see that there are some pretty big gaps in what Beard knows about Ted.  He was surprised by Ted’s animosity toward therapists, didn’t appear to know about the couples counseling with Michelle, and didn’t know the story about why Ted prefers Follow You Down to the objectively better Hey, Jealousy.

Those are little things.  But they’re kind of telling (contrast with Ted’s immediate revision of his claim that Sammy Hagar is the best Van Halen singer to “the post-David Lee Roth period”).

And then there are the panic attacks.  From Ted’s statement, there were more that we didn’t see.  And Beard didn’t know about them even when one happened right in front of him.

In contrast, for all that Beard is mysterious about his general backstory, Ted does seem to have a pretty good idea that something is going on with Beard.  We know he’s aware of the issues with Jane, but doesn’t feel like its his place to say anything.  He doesn’t know what specifically happened in Beard After Hours, but we can see him in the last scene clocking both the bruises and the pants.  He accepts Beard’s explanation at face value, but he isn’t fooled by it.

That last scene in Man City is worth revisiting.  Ted invites him to leave with him.  Beard wants to shake it off.  He invites Ted along, but Ted has a family obligation (or excuse).  I don’t think either character did anything wrong here, because people process disappointment and loss in their own ways.

But what happened right before Beard showed up?  Ted had just confessed something pretty huge to Sharon.  He’s in tears.  And he immediately hides that from his friend.  And that makes me think that Beard has no idea about what Ted confessed.  I don’t think Ted has told anyone, ever.  

The thing about the mysterious quiet guy is that you expect them to keep secrets, so you pay attention.  You clock the details when you get them.  You may not know they won a lumberjack award, but you know they can take down a door pretty easily.

But the talkative guy...well, it’s easy to assume you know everything, right?  “I had a breakdown in Liverpool and slept with a girl I just met” says it all, doesn’t it?  Except that somehow Ted’s panic attacks are still a secret a year later.  Because Ted knows how to deflect.  It’s like the magic trick, when he makes Roy’s captain thing disappear then tosses it on his head.  Look over here, and everything over there passes your notice.

Beard’s a good friend, but I don’t think he knows exactly how much he hasn’t been seeing. It might be interesting to see him figure that out.

[nejibaby]

Supposition

Pairing: Kozume Kenma x Reader

Description: Kuroo Tetsurou thinks you like Kozume Kenma, but you just aren’t sure if it’s true… yet.

Supposition - Part 1 | In The Silence - Part 2

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: here it is, my first attempt at writing about hq. i’m not even gonna lie and say this is exactly what i had in mind because the truth is the scenes i planned on writing isn’t here, but i figured i’d just write it some other time since i didn’t want to post or write something too long 😅 anyway, this is me succumbing to the kenma brain rot 😌 please let me know your thoughts 🥺

There’s a short silence in the air when Kozume Kenma excuses himself from you and Kuroo Tetsurou. It’s almost like a pause in the world, or at least in your and Tetsurou’s atmosphere, when he leaves albeit temporarily.

It’s either that or the silence would feel a lot louder — a lot more known — in Kenma’s absence, even if he usually doesn’t participate in the conversation, opting to listen and/or play games instead.

But then Tetsurou breaks this pause, this silence, by saying, “I think you like him.”

He doesn’t elaborate further and you give him a questioning look, as you’re a little bit startled with his sudden statement, still in a daze from the pause.

“Who?” You ask.

“Kenma,” he says as he tilts his head towards the retreating figure of Kenma.

You take a quick glance at Kenma and say, “Yeah, sure.”

“That’s it? That’s all the reaction you’re going to give? No stuttering, fidgeting, or even looking away in embarrassment?”

Huh? “Why would I do that?”

Tetsurou’s facial expression turns blank. For a moment he just blinks at you. He scans your facial features and then he sighs, “You do know I’m talking about how you like Kenma romantically, right?”

Your eyes widen. “No! I d-don’t… It’s n-not what I… Uhm… That’s not what I was thinking. I thought you’re talking about how I… uh… like Kenma as a person.”

There it is, Tetsurou thought fondly, your stuttering.

He chuckles. “I should’ve known we weren’t on the same page from the way you nonchalantly responded.”

He ruffles your hair and you huff at his antics, trying to act annoyed despite the blood rushing to your face.

“I mean, you both always gravitate towards each other when you’re both at the same location. And you kind of have a different look in your eyes when you’re with him. Sometimes it’s a soft look, other times, it’s just purely excitement,” Tetsurou explains.

“So,” he leans forward and wiggles his brows, “do you? Do you like him in a romantic sense?”

You can practically feel your face heating up as Tetsurou smirks at you, awaiting your response. You open your mouth to respond but no words come out. Even your mind goes blank. Because quite frankly, you haven’t put too much thought on romantic feelings, especially not romantic feelings towards one of your best friends.

Before you could even relay that to Tetsurou, however, you both notice Kenma coming back. As usual, Kenma is on his phone, playing some game as he walks back to your group’s table. And while he’s distracted, you mouth, “Let’s talk about this another time” to Tetsurou while giving him the stink eye.

He doesn’t drop his smirk nor does he nod but you assume he understood what you just said. It is quite straightforward after all.

“What’s up with you two?” Kenma squints at you and Tetsurou. You internally curse at how awfully perceptive he is. “Did something happen while I was away?”

You void your face from any emotion despite Kenma looking away and directing his focus on his game once again. But just as you say “Nothing,” Tetsurou says “Yes.”

From the years and years of your friendship with these two males, you should have known Tetsurou was going to respond like that. When it comes to trivial matters like this, he has a habit of throwing you under the bus — only because the situations are just that, just trivial. Otherwise, he’s a great friend.

“You see, Kenma, our kitten here has a crush,” Tetsurou informs Kenma.

As the words slip out of Tetsurou’s mouth, Kenma instantly furrows his brows and his fingers stop moving — only for a moment though — his reaction was gone as soon as it came, although he does find himself unable to focus on his game anymore.

His reaction goes unnoticed by you as you throw a glare at your black haired friend, but it doesn’t escape Tetsurou’s eyes.

“First of all,” you start saying, “you said you think I like someone. It’s technically just your assumption. Secondly, I neither confirmed nor denied your statement, which leads to my last point, you can’t just go around proclaiming that as the truth.”

Tetsurou leans back and laughs at how defensive you’re being.

“Who is it?” Kenma asks, tilting his head in curiosity but without looking away from his phone.

You wag your finger at him, chastising him. “No, no, no, Kenma,” you playfully say, “Don’t listen to him. Don’t let his words get to you!”

Kenma rolls his eyes at you and then he surprises you and Tetsurou when he smiles at your antics.

You fight back the gasp that’s bubbling on your throat. While there’s no denying the fact that you’ve seen him smile before, it’s also no secret that he very rarely does it.

And seeing it appear because of you makes you swell with pride.

You’re unaware of the smile that crept into your face, as well as the knowing look that Tetsurou has as he watches the interaction between his two best friends.

“So there’s no one?” Kenma asks again.

There’s something in the tone that he used that tricks your mind into short circuiting. You’re quite taken aback by his… interest in your love affairs. And because of this, you feel something erupt inside of you, you just aren’t sure what it is. Regardless of whatever it is, it makes you feel warm all over.

Damn, feelings are complicated.

Wait… Feelings?

Was Tetsurou right in his assumption?

With one look at Tetsurou, who’s sporting an amused look on his face, your reverie breaks and this allows you to function normally once again.

“Do fictional characters count?” You ask cheekily, attempting to dodge the question.

Kenma sighs, and then the bell rings, signalling the end of lunch break, and by extension, your conversation as well.

The three of you stand up from your table.

“Are you coming to watch us play later?” Tetsurou asks you.

Kenma eyes you from his peripheral, quietly awaiting your answer. He finds you groaning and frowning.

“I wish! But I can’t. I have a lot of things to do tonight. I might even have to pull an all-nighter...” Ah, just the thought of it makes you tired already.

Tetsurou gives you a sympathetic look and pats your back. “Good luck! Come watch us some other time, yeah?”

You hum.

Just as you’re about to part ways with Tetsurou and Kenma, Tetsurou leans to you and whispers, “And for the record, I think he likes you too.”

Before you could even gather your wits to process what he just said, Tetsurou pulls Kenma and dashes away, not giving you the opportunity for a dispute.

His words ring inside your head repetitively all throughout the day. Even as you get home and bury yourself with your tasks, it somehow finds its way back to your thoughts.

“I think you like him.”

“And for the record, I think he likes you too.”

And because of these, a ton of questions flood your mind.

Do you really seek Kenma that often for Tetsurou to take notice? Do you really look at him in a different way than others? Does Kenma talk about you with Tetsurou? Does he go looking for you too? Does he act differently when it comes to you?

Trust Tetsurou to plant a seed in your mind, almost as if he’s expecting you to water it and let it blossom —which you really end up doing.

So here you are now, thinking that perhaps you do have a teeny tiny crush on Kenma. Because, yes, you like spending time with him more than any of your other friends. Yes, you stare at him a little bit too long sometimes because of his gorgeous facial features, especially his pretty golden eyes, complemented by his golden locks. And yes, you could admit that there were a couple of times that he made your heart skip a beat, although you’ve never really attributed it to attraction before.

But you still aren’t sure. And if there’s something that you absolutely dislike the most, it’s the uncertainty.

From the amount of thinking that you’re doing, you miss the message notification on your phone despite the silence. But then a knock on your door comes soon after, which effectively gets your attention.

You hastily make your way to open the door, not even having half the mind to ask who would come visit you in the dead of the night.

Once you open the door, a drink is shoved up to your face and you grab it hesitantly. You let out a gasp when you realize it’s the very man that’s been plaguing your mind who’s by the door. “Kenma? What are you doing here?” You look inside your flat to check the time. “It’s almost midnight!”

“Yeah, our game ran too late,” he mumbles. His gaze is on the floor, his back is slouched, and his lips are slightly downturned. It’s evident he’s tired. “Well, anyway, I recalled you saying that you’re pulling an all-nighter… so I thought you might need coffee and figured I’d drop it by before I go home.”

And there it is again, the warmth erupting inside you. “Thank you.”

Kenma gives you a curt nod and bids you goodbye, and just like that he’s gone.

You stand by the door until you can no longer see his figure. It almost feels like a dream, but the coffee that you hold in your right hand and the rapid beating of your heart that you’re feeling as you press your left palm to your chest is proof enough that what has transpired is indeed real.

You suppose Tetsurou’s right, you do like Kenma.

[un-beel-ievable]

Obey Me! Headcanons - The Demon Brothers react to a MC who owns a golden retriever 🐕

Author’s note: I'm home :3 Feel free to reblog, but please do not repost!! If you enjoy my writing, do leave me a like and/or a comment (and follow me to see similar content in the future :D)!

_____

Lucifer ☕

• When your dog first bounds over to greet Lucifer, it’s difficult to tell if the eldest born is a fan of your four-legged pal or not. The Avatar of Pride scrutinizes the ball of fluff as if he were a judge on a dog show —all the while as your dog vibrates impatiently by the front door with a tennis ball in its mouth. Perhaps it senses the need to be on its best behaviour if it’s to impress Lucifer.

• “A pet is a responsibility, not a novelty. I sincerely hope that you thought long and hard about the obligations of a pet owner before you went ahead with your decision to adopt. That being said, you appear to be doing quite well with your four-legged companion —they’re very well behaved. I have absolutely no qualms with you taking over Cerberus’s care when you return to the House of Lamentation; clearly you’d manage much more elegantly than my brothers. Perhaps Cerberus would enjoy the company of your charming pooch as well…”

• So Lucifer does like your dog. Not an entirely surprising revelation, if you’ve seen how he behaves around Cerberus in private. The strict no-nonsense archdemon turns into the softest dog owner that you’d ever have the pleasure of meeting; he’s all ear scritches and belly rubs. By the end of his visit, your dog is blissfully rolling on the carpet by Lucifer’s feet as the Avatar of Pride informs it over and over again that it is indeed “a good dog”.

• Perhaps you’ll even catch the small —but genuine— smile twitching at the corners of Lucifer’s lips as he does so.

Mammon 💳:

• In hindsight, perhaps giving Mammon a heads up about the presence of your pooch would have been a good idea.

• Despite your numerous attempts to reassure Mammon that the furry ball of enthusiasm barreling towards him is a Good Dog™, the terrified shriek that escapes the Avatar of Greed is shrill and ear-splitting enough to shatter your windows (Metaphorically speaking, of course. Rest assured, no windows were harmed in the writing of this headcanon.). When your dog leaps at him to nudge its head into his hand for scritches™ and headpats™, Mammon’s life flashes before his eyes. The only image that he can bring to mind before he passes out cold on your carpet is Cerberus’s terrifying snarl.

• When Mammon comes to, your dog is sitting on his chest —looking concerned and suitably chastised for accidentally scaring the living daylights out of the demon. (Even though Mammon refuses to come clean about how terrified he was. “The great Mammon? Afraid of a lil’ dog? W-What...What are ya talkin’ about? I wasn’t scared!”) The events that occurred over the last couple of minutes play on a loop in Mammon's mind. It finally dawns on him that your dog isn’t the ferocious beast that his imagination had conjured up, and his cheeks flush scarlet.

• Please give your demon a hug. I think he needs one. Or several.

Leviathan 🎮:

• If Leviathan had a pet ranking system, Henry 1.0 and Henry 2.0 would always claim the highest spots possible —the S-tiered, 5-star gods of the pet world. No golden retriever could ever worm its way to the top and snatch his love for them from under his feet. Sorry. But your dog is pretty cute, he’ll give you that.

• Too cute, maybe. Hey...um...you don’t love your dog more than you love him, right? What? Him, the Avatar of Envy, jealous? No! Of course not! Why would you make such an outrageous assumption? He’s not jealous —an adorable fluff ball of enthusiasm for the outdoors and joy is a way better than an icky otaku, after all. Leviathan doesn’t blame you for choosing your dog over him. Any sane individual would do the same...

• When you finally manage to reassure your demon that your dog is in no way competition for the affection that you hold for him, —he’ll always be your favourite demon, even if you have a dog. Even if you have a hundred dogs. Nothing is going to change that— he begins looking at your pooch in a different light. That’s right —as a potential cosplay partner. There’s this new anime that’s been released recently...Levi was wondering if you had heard of it? It’s titled: My Partner Is The Proud Owner Of A Golden Retriever And I’m An Otaku Who Enjoys The Simple Pleasure Of Collecting Merchandise and Cosplaying. One of the main characters happens to own a golden retriever as well, and if you’re willing to give him your blessing (the irony, I know), perhaps you’d lend him your pooch for an afternoon of cosplay and photography?

Satan 📚:

• Satan is a cultured demon who enjoys the company of four-legged companions, but he’s admittedly a fan of felines...not canines. Still, he prides himself on keeping an open mind towards new experiences, so he agrees to spend an afternoon with you and your dog (Even though he’d much rather be attending the opening day ceremony of the Devildom’s newest cat cafe. The things he does for love.).

• He performs some through research before meeting your dog for the first time; spending afternoon after afternoon in the sanctuary of his room reading about dogs and how to care for them. No number of books could prepare him for the real thing, however. When Satan first comes over to spend the afternoon in your home, he’s stiff and awkward —unsure of what to do with a dog. He ends up spending the first hour on your couch, sipping tea and spouting facts about golden retrievers.

• Show him the rope that your dog enjoys playing tug-of-war with, or the tennis ball that it insists on carrying in its jaws everywhere it goes. It takes a while for Satan to warm up to your pooch, but he’ll gradually learn to love —or at the very least, tolerate— your canine companion, even though he still firmly believes in the superiority of cats. Speaking of which, you’d accompany him on a date to that new cat cafe, right?

Asmodeus 💋:

• Oh! Your golden retriever is absolutely adorable! And gorgeous too —albeit not as beautiful as him, but that’s to be expected. There’s not a single individual in all of the three realms that could match up to his beauty. And your dog has such luscious fur too...dear Diavolo, he’d kill to have a haircare routine that’s as effective on his locks.

• Would you be willing to take a photo of him posing with your pooch? It’s for his Devilgram followers, of course —such beauty must be shared with the world, no? You’re not entirely sure if Asmo’s referring to his beauty, your dog’s beauty, or the shared, collective beauty of him and your dog. It doesn’t particularly matter. The two (three?) of you end up spending the entire afternoon orchestrating an impromptu photoshoot, and then spending the evening editing the photographs from said shoot for Devilgram.

• Generally gets along with your four-legged companion like a house on fire. There’s just one, itsy-bitsy issue.

• Your dog sheds. A ton. No matter how often you brush its fur, or how many boundaries you set about it not being allowed on the furniture, it seems determined to shed every carpet, sofa and bed that you own. Asmo never stops whining about the copious amounts of fur that now decorate every article of clothing he owns, but at least your dog seems happy to be able to leave its mark —on Asmo’s ensembles, of course, but also his heart.

Beelzebub 🍔:

• Corporate has asked you to find the difference between this picture and this picture—

• Asmo gets along well with your dog. Beel gets along with your dog even better. As one of the few only brothers who’s willing to spend any amount of time with Cerberus (granted, most of the time he’s only doing so because he’s been promised free food), Beel has grown into quite the dog lover. Your dog seems thrilled to be in the company of someone who appears to wholeheartedly enjoy its company —your dog is thrilled by the company of anyone who’s willing to give it their time of day, but still— and Beelzebub is thrilled to be in the company of a four-legged companion who appears to wholeheartedly enjoy his company. Beel is happy to spend whole afternoons playing with your dog...interspaced with the occasional snack break, of course.

• Speaking of which, Beel very much struggles with not giving into your golden retriever’s extremely convincing puppy dog eyes. Objectively, he knows that giving your dog human (or demon) food is a terrible idea —the last thing he wants is to be the reason that your dog has to take a trip to the vet. But your dog is so cute! And it’s looking at his food with such an intense longing in its eyes...Beel can relate to that. Surely a little nibble wouldn’t hurt…

• When you find yourself having to tell Beel off, suddenly you find yourself at the receiving end of 2 sets of puppy dog eyes; both Beel and your pupper are very sorry. They swear it’ll never happen again! Please don’t be upset…

• How are you supposed to stay mad at them?

Belphegor 🛏:

• ...listen.

• It’s not that he hates dogs. Honestly! He likes dogs as much as the next demon! But they can be loud and yappy and so incredibly energetic, and your golden retriever is more hyper than most. It always wants to go on walks, or play fetch, or make him throw its favourite tennis ball over and over again but refuse to hand it over so he has to engage in a slobbery game of tug-of-war to steal the ball from it —it’s just too much for the Avatar of Sloth. Just watching your dog zip across the room in a display of its endless amounts of energy is enough to tire Belphie out...is playtime over yet? He just wants to take a nap.

• Makes multiple attempts to talk you into allowing Beel to look after your dog. Just for an afternoon! His twin certainly has the energy to keep your hyperactive pup entertained for the whole day, and since you can be assured that your dog is well taken care of, perhaps the two of you could finally stay inside for once and take a nice, long nap. It’s been too long since he’s gotten to hold you in his arms…

• By the time Beel returns your dog to you, it’s all tuckered out from its day of adventures. As you’re thanking Beel for looking after your dog for the day, you catch him chuckling softly at something over your shoulder —Belphie and your furry friend, dozing off together on the couch. They appear to finally be getting along.

BONUS: I'm still not terribly comfortable with adding the (former) undatables to my writing repertoire, but my partner happens to be very fond of the demon butler...and I happen to be very fond of them. So just this once, just to see how it goes...

Barbatos 🍵:

• Oh? So this is the sweet bundle of fur that he’s heard so much about. It’s a pleasure to meet them at long last. Barbatos has always been fond of dogs, and your dog is quite an endearing creature to say the least...it actually reminds Barbatos of Cerberus when he was a puppy. How time flies.

• Treats your dog as if it were an esteemed guest of the castle. As long as Barbatos is around, you needn’t lift a finger when it comes to the care of your beloved pet. Keeping your dog fed and watered? Barbatos has it covered; the butler seems to have an in built in timer when it comes to feeding your dog —Barbatos serves its meals at exactly 6 in the morning and 6 in the evening. Not a minute early, not a minute late. When taking your dog out on walks, he carries a spare bottle of water for the sole purpose of offering it to your dog if it gets thirsty. Speaking of walks...Barbatos is more than happy to escort your pooch on walks in the event that you’re unavailable to do so yourself. Barbatos generally allows your golden to lead the way on their excursions, and is content with following along behind it to keep it out of trouble for however long it wishes to remain outdoors. If it were to tire itself out, Barbatos takes your dog into his arms and carries it the rest of the way home.

• Your pooch becomes very spoiled very quickly. It’s unclear if you’ve gained a butler...or if your dog has.

[weasel-b33]

500 Miles (j.p x fem!reader)

Description: A few years after the birth of your son Harry, you and your husband James recall the beginning of your relationship. (NO VOLDY I CAN NOT DO THAT TO MYSELF) 

Warnings: Fluff, Kissing, A little Swearing, idk Cute Daddy James, Prolly many spelling errors I wrote this late and I am very tired...

 (THIS IS MY FIRST TIME EVER WRITING SOMETHING KINDA SIRIUS hehe SO IM SORRY IF IT IS TERRIBLE) 

Also the dates may be a bit wrong so im sorry in advance!! 

italicized is flashback!! 

Lyrics used in the song are from “I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles)” by The Proclaimers (I KNOW THE SONG CAME OUT IN ‘87 BUT SUSPEND YOUR DISBELIEF PLEASE)

(not my gif)

The rambunctious laughter of the four year-old toddler and his father echoed throughout the large estate.

“Daddy!” exclaimed the messy haired Harry, “Can I please have a story.” Heavily emphasizing the puppy dog eyes he learned from his godfather, Sirius, a few years prior.

James Potter, the man unable to say no to anyone, tried to recall a story he had not told his son. Thinking back to the fairy tales of a prince slaying a fictional dragon, even though they are very much real, to save the princess that his mother used to tell him, James realized he was all out of good material. 

“I’m sorry bubs, I have nothing new too share,” the bespectacled man added lamely. The disappointment was instant on the child’s face, but luckily before the waterworks began, Y/N Potter strolled through the foyer into the den.

“Mommy!” Harry exclaimed, jumping up and bonding over to his mother, nearly knocking her over with his brute strength.

“Umph- Where’s the fire lovey?” you questioned with a slight chuckle. The dramatics of your son were never a surprise. Between his father and Sirius, you were surprised he had not acted much worse. Walking, more like sliding due to the child gripping your calves, over to your husband and lightly pecking his lips you ask, 

“What’s wrong now?”

Rubbing the back of his neck, he sheepishly stated, “I sorta don’t have a new story to tell him... he’s a bit peeved, if you couldn’t tell.”

A loud laugh tore through your throat as you pet your son’s hair affectionately.

“Come off Harry, Mommy has a perfect story to tell you,” you crooned softly.

“You do?”Harry questioned, rubbing the tears out of his stunning green eyes.

You picked him up and sat down near James, “Yes poppet, I have a very interesting story about how two very special people fell in love.” 

James quickly turned his head and quirked a questioning brow, “It all started when they were 15...” 

November 7, 1975

Quietly sitting on the vermilion couch of the Gryffindor Common Room, you began to fade out the noise of Lily ranting about the recent History of Magic exam, and Marlene’s long monologue over if she should or should not cut bangs. Instead, you were beginning to rip out each and every one of the hairs on your head because your Potions essay was nearly finished, yet you could not get those final words to conclude it all. 

Across the common room, a rowdy group of teenage boys, better known as the Marauders, were planning the newest prank on Snape. 

"We should give him that shampoo that will change his hair pink,” Sirius added.

Remus shook his head disapprovingly, “Pads, we did that last time come on..”

“WE HAVE NOTHING! WHAT IS WRONG WITH US, MOONY, HELP I’M DYING OF NO CREATIVITY!” Sirius exclaimed throwing himself across the scarred boy.

Although, many people turned their attention to the dark haired pureblood, James seemed he could not take his eyes off the girl nearly burning holes into her parchment, the girl he has fancied since he was 12. 

While playing with the snitch he stole, he said, “What if we tried that new rain spell we learned in charms today?” 

“Too difficult, we have not had enough practice.” Remus dismissed. “Well what if I found someone to practice on?” James added quickly turning to face his werewolf best friend. 

“Sure... Whatever, I could care less- Pads, get the bloody hell of me before I kick your arse,” 

“I’D LIKE TO SEE YOU TRY REMUS JOHN,” Sirius yelled beginning his quick climb up the stairs to the boys dorm, with Remus and Peter quickly following.

“You comin’ Prongs?” Remus asked to the brunette still staring at the girl with shaky hands.

“No, I’ll come up in a few, still want to try to figure this prank out...” he said quietly. The lanky boy followed his best friends line of sight and quietly smirked to himself.

“Alright, don’t wear yourself out too much.” 

Even throughout the commotion, you still made no move to change your line of sight. That was until Marlene nudged you and whispered into your ear.

“Psst! Oi! Y/N! Why is Potter staring at you?” 

You quickly shook your head and waved off her question, opting to continue to find the right words.

Well until your blonde friend gripped your jaw, and turned your head to the direction of the boy. You instantly made eye-contact with the messy haired Gryffindor and quirked a brow. He smirked and turned his head away. You thought nothing of the interaction, until you felt a sudden drop above your head...

Instantly, it seemed as though there was a storm in the common room. Looking towards the ceiling you saw the dark rain cloud above your head. Quickly turning your head to the essay you were writing you noticed it completely wet and ruined. You jumped into action, trying to salvage what you could, but it was too late. Ignoring the screeches of your friends and fellow housemates, you began to look for the source of the cloud.

That was until you made eye contact with the laughing and smug James Potter.

“POTTER!” you yelled. Almost immediately the rain stopped, but the damage had been done. “JAMES POTTER! YOU BETTER HAVE A REASON YOU STARTED A STORM IN THE COMMON ROOM!” 

Hearing the commotion, the rest of the Marauders came down to the common room to witness what was happening. But all they saw was a yelling match between you and their brunette best friend.

“YOU ARE A DICK JAMES POTTER! KARMA IS A BITCH AND SHE IS COMING! IT’S GONNA BE SO NICE TO SEE YOUR FACE WHEN ALL YOUR ACTIONS FINALLY COME TO KICK YOU IN THE ARSE!” you yelled.

“What? I did nothing, I don’t mean to dampen your mood, but I have no idea what you are on about.” James replies smugly.

“UGH- YOU ARE A BULLY AND A RIGHTEOUS, STUCK UP, EGOTISTICAL ARSEHOLE! I HOPE YOU ARE ENJOYING THIS BECAUSE-- OH MY! I-” You were quickly being dragged away by your red head companion. 

“Y/N, he is not worth it... let’s just leave.” 

“NO! I HAVE TO RESTART MY ESSAY! I WAS THIS BLOODY CLOSE. UGH- YOU ARE AN ARSE JAMES POTTER I HOPE YOU KNOW THAT!”

“Y/N, it was just a prank, its no big deal relax.” James said.

“RELAX! ARE YOU KIDDING... I-” you paused taking shallow and rapid breaths, ‘you know I can not believe you think its funny. You truly have no regard for people and how they feel do you?” you asked slowly and meticulously. 

“Prongs, just apologize and lets go..” Remus said quickly.

“I- I didn’t realize it would be that big of a deal.” James tried to say to you, but it was no use because you had already dragged Lily and Marlene out the common room and to the library to re-start your assignment. 

“Oh, COME ON! I did not” James stated jokingly.

“Darling, you must certainly did, I barley passed that essay as well. I blame you for me getting an E in that class.” You replied giggling.

“Moooommmyyy! Story, get back to the story,” Your son said dramatically, grabbing your cheeks and turning to face him for extra effect.

Hearing a chuckling from James in the background, “Alright bubs, back to the the story”

January 23, 1976

After months of back and forth between you and James, he was fed up trying to get your attention. From roses to chocolate, to even a firework show in your honor, James believed he had done everything to apologize to you for his stupid prank and prove his affection.

Tired of his friends constant whining, Remus and Sirius decided to take matters into their own hands and talk to someone who knew you better than anyone else, Lily and Marlene.

“Oh Evans, Mckinnon, we are in grave need of your beautiful minds” Sirius flirted. Remus smacked him across the head adding, “Ignore the git, we need some help its about-”

“James?” Lily and Marlene said in unison.

“Yeah...how did you know” Remus questioned. “Are we gonna ignore the fact they spoke at the same time” Sirius said, once again receiving a blow from his friend.

Rolling her eyes, Lily remarked, “Well, Y/N has been complaining about him for months,” Marlene quickly interjected, “...and you never are without him so its an easy assumption. 

Now its was the boys turn to roll their eyes to the back of their heads. “Anyways, he will not shut up about getting her to forgive him... so we were wondering if you had anything that could work to get her to forgive him?” Remus pleaded with the best Sirius puppy dog eyes he could muster.

“Fine,” Lily and Marlene said jointly.

“THEY DID IT AGAI- OH NOT YOU TOO AS WELL!” Sirius exclaimed rubbing the now sore bump on his head. 

Ignoring the dog’s dramatics, the group of four began conducting a plan for James that would knock Y/N’s socks off.

At this point, Harry had nestled between his parents and fell into a deep sleep.

The two of you put him to bed and settle down back into the living room.

Looking longingly at his wife, James says, “Well, might as well finish the story love... it is the best part.”

Giggling at the antics of your husband, you shrug and began to finish the story...

February 14, 1976 

The Great Hall looked as though Cupid had just went on a decorating rampage. The room lined with pink and red hearts and the sight of loving couples nearly made you want to gag. Then, you remembered the boy who has dying to get your attention for the past months and can not seem but to get excited.

What does he have planned for you? Is he gonna get me a gift? Do I look presentable? 

“WHAT!” you quickly think to yourself, “Why in Merlin’s name am I excited to to see Jame- Potter. Godric I can’t feel like this for him... He his as a fly that buzzes and will not leave me alone... but he is not the worst to look at”

You quickly snap out of your thoughts as Lily starts to put food onto your plate. You begin to eat, but can only think of one thing.

James Potter.

“Why?” You begin questioning again, “Godric, Y/N You like him... No I do not.. You realize you are having this whole conversation within your brain, right? It is obvious you like him...” you grumble to yourself as you realize your psyche has won once again.

Lily noticing your strange behavior begins to question if you discovered what they have planned. 

Almost as though the boys heard Lily’s thoughts the beginning of the plan is activated.

Instantly, the candles in all of the Great Hall extinguish and there is the beginning of a song plays.

Suddenly, a spotlight shines onto the teachers table where atop, James and the rest of the Marauders stand, Remus and Sirius with guitars and Peter on the drums. James holding a mic begins to sing...

When I wake up, Well I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who wakes up next to you.

Your head snaps to the noise and there you see in all of his glory, James Potter holding a microphone staring straight at you.

When I go out, yeah I know I'm gonna be I'm gonna be the man who goes along.

Quickly shoving the breakfast roll down your throat you nearly choke as you see the boy slowly make his way towards the front of the Gryffindor table.

When I get drunk, well I know I'm gonna be I'm gonna be the man who gets drunk next to you.

Your eyes widen comically when you see James Potter jump onto the Gryffindor table. 

And when I haver, hey I know I'm gonna be I'm gonna be the man who's havering to you.

Slowly, the boy begins his walk across the table to where you sit. You try to make a run for it, but Lily and Marlene quickly grab your arms and anchor you down to the bench 

“What friends you are!” you hiss at the two.

Marlene just rolls her eyes and Lily pinches your hip.

And I would roll 500 miles And I would roll 500 more Just to be the man who rolls a thousand miles To fall down at your door

Once the boy is standing in front of you he reaches down for your hand. Stubbornly, you ignore his gesture, well until your two friends throw you up onto the table with the love struck brunette. 

When I come home well I know I'm gonna be I'm gonna be the man who comes back home to you And when I grow old, well I know I'm gonna be I'm gonna be the man who's growing old with you.

You grip onto the boys biceps for stability and are forced to look into his ravishing hazel eyes...

In that moment you forget all that he has done to you in the past and all you can think about is him and you. 

But I would roll 500 miles And I would roll 500 more Just to be the man who roles a thousand miles To fall down at your door.

Smiling, to yourself, you grab the face of the boy in front of you and mold your lips together. Ignoring the cheers of your classmates, the only sounds you hear are the background noise of the boy’s best friends signing backup. 

Da da da  Da da da                                                                                                            Da Da Dun Diddle                                                                                            Un Diddle Un Diddle Uh Da Da.....

Smiling to yourself and grabbing the hand of the man you love you start laughing.

“What’s so funny, love?” James asks.

“Nothing.... Just we began dating because you performed a whole song and dance in front of the entirety of Hogwarts.” you reply breathlessly.

“Well, hey, look at us now... happy, healthy, and a true family.” he replies smiling at your antics.

You lay down your head into the lap of your husband, and look up into his hazel eyes you got lost into all those years ago, “Such a sap, Potter, such a sap...”

Kissing your cheek softly, “Only for you, my darling girl... only for you...” 

“I love you Jamie”

“I love you more, my love.”            ______________________________________________________________

AHHH I HOPE YOU ENJOY!!! IM SORRY IF IT IS SO BAD!! THIS IS MY FIRST FIC PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I COULD DO ANYTHING BETTER!!! AHHHH (but like kinda like this story... kinda proud ;))

[once-upon-a-oneshot]

Friends with Benefits

Summary: You and Calum are friends with benefits, but what happens when one of you starts to want something more

Genre: Frat!Calum

Warnings: swearing, sexual themes

Word Count: ~900

“Same time tomorrow?” Calum asks as you clumsily climb out of his bed and search around the room for the panties you arrived in.

“Um,” As you reach under the bed, you feel the silk material in a crumbled heap. You pull it out only to realize that these are not the panties you wore here. In fact, they aren’t even yours. “I actually have plans.” You continued, throwing the panties away from you and wiping your hand on your still bare thigh.

“Plans?” Calum’s tone is doubtful, almost even mocking. But you’re too busy scowering the room for your panties to notice.

“Yep.” Deciding to abandon your search for your undergarments, you grab your pants off the foot of the bed and shimmy them on. “So, looks like you’re going old school tomorrow. Just you, yourself, and Miss Righty.” 

The way you grin to yourself as you pull your shirt over your head annoys him. He hates for any one, especially just some girl he hooks up with, to feel that they’ve got anything over him.

“Bold of you to assume you’re the only girl I call when I need to get off.” He pushes, raising an eyebrow at you. Uninterestedly you roll your eyes at him.

“Not only,” you smirk to yourself, “but best.” He’s trying to best you, but you’re not like all the other insecure girls he messes around with. You know what you’ve got, and you know what it’s worth.

“Again,” it was Calum’s turn to smirk at you. “Bold assumption”. Your only response it to roll your eyes as you bend over to pull on your shoes.

“I mean, for the past three weeks you’ve called me, what,” You turn your eyes towards the ceiling and scrunch your face pretending to think. For added measure you use one finger to solve an imaginary equation in the air. “Oh that’s right, every night.”

You won’t back down. But Calum won’t either.

“Yea, and who do you think I’ve called every morning?” Calum smirks triumphantly. You say nothing as you grab your purse and head for the door.

“Good, then call one of them.” You say it and mean it. Just like it was for Calum, to you this arrangement was simply a business transaction. A mutual exchange of sexual favors. Nothing more. 

“See ya.” You call over your shoulder as you finally walk out of the room. Leaving Calum naked and alone in his bed.

*****CALUM’S POV*****

Friday night. Exactly 22 hours since I last got off. I’m not OCD or anything. It’s just that over the years I’ve found that keeping a strict “booty-call” schedule made it easier to keep track of my endeavors. Not to mention it prevents the always awkward “two booty-calls running into each other” situation. If you’ve never experienced one chick leaving your room half naked, while another chick is walking in ready to smash, trust me – you don’t want to go there. However, it did make for some pretty hot hate-sex.

Not that the schedule really mattered much lately. There was really only one time to account for. (Y/N)’s time. Every night for the past couple weeks. 10 o’clock on the dot is her call time. Usually she won’t get here until about midnight, but that works out perfectly for me. The later it is the less likely she’ll be to try and hang out, or some shit, afterwards.

Throwing the weight of my body on the bed, I pull my phone out of my tight jean pocket and call her.

It’s not until she doesn’t answer that I remember about the bullshit “plans” she told me she had.  Whether they are real or not, they’ll just have to wait. Because right now, I need her. Well, my dick does anyway.

I call again. This time the phone rings twice and then goes straight to voicemail.

She sent me to voicemail.

This is probably all just some elaborate scheme to make me think she actually has better things to do than fuck me.

Two can play at that game

I toss my phone on the bed and head towards the bathroom. The sound of my phone vibrating on the bed makes me stop in my tracks. I smile to myself and eagerly make a move for the phone.

Eagerly? Why are you eager?

I blame it on my being horny. I can’t help the way my face falls with disappointment when it’s my friends contact name on my screen instead of hers.

Disappointment?

I must be really, really, horny.

“What?” I bark annoyed. It’s not actually him I’m bothered by, but he’s the one who’s available.

“Dude, where are you?” he’s yelling into the phone, and I can hear loud music blaring in the background.

“My room?” I don’t know what he wants, but if he doesn’t tell me soon this conversation is going to end.

“Oh, I figured you were at that Phi Delta party?”

“Well, I just told you I’m in my room.” I snap. “Why the hell would I be at some frat party?”

I’m far from the type. All those preppy douchebags. Running around with their gelled-hair, short shorts, and flip flops. What real man wears flip-flops other than to the beach? And even that is pushing it.

“Yea but-” the sound of his voice pulls me back to reality from my internal rant. “Your little fuck-buddy’s here so I figured-”

“Who?” I interrupt.

“Uh, you know that one chick. The one you rated best rack!”

“(Y/N)?!” I don’t know why but knowing that she was ignoring my calls, while she was probably running around with some douchey frat guy irritated me.

“Yea! Yea dude her! She looks-” Before he can even finish his sentence, I hang up the phone and grab my keys. I don’t know why I going to the party or what I’ll do when I get there, but right now all I can think about is (Y/N) laying in bed with a douche in flip-flops.

As I finally pull up in front of the huge trashy house, none of the irritation has left my body. Taking long strides, I make my way in the house and navigate through all the drunk teens determined to find (Y/N). I do a quick scan of the living room, the kitchen, the backyard, but she’s nowhere to be seen. With every room I check off the list, my fears of her being locked in one of those bedrooms upstairs with some guy grows.

Just as I’m about to storm up the stairs and kick in every door, I spot her walking through the front door, with a guy following close behind. The type of guy who looks like he wears flip flops. As I watch her grin from ear to ear, I can feel anger rumbling deep in my stomach. Suddenly the house feels hot. Too hot.

My eyes follow them into the kitchen. I count to 10, and I head towards the kitchen too.

“Wooow, hey.” I fake shocked to be running into (Y/N) here.

“Calum.” Her statement sounds more like a question as her eyes go wide.

“Plans huh?” My eyes shift to the tool standing too close to her. I mean come on its burning up in here. Definitely, too hot to be standing that close to someone.

“Yea. Uh Corey this is Calum, Calum this is my friend Corey.” Friend? Her friend Corey? And what I’m? Just Calum? What she should’ve said was ‘Douchebag this is the guy who fucks me better than anyone ever has be-‘

“Nice to meet you man.” Douchebag interrupts my perverse thoughts and reaches out to shake my hand. I don’t want to take it. Who knows where those fingers have been.

Hopefully not in her.

I choke on my own thoughts as my breathe gets caught in my throat. I burst into a fit of coughs and (Y/N) and Douchebag just stare at me like I just grew another head. Douchebag pushes his cup towards me and I take it. As I chug down the beer from his cup, I swear I can taste (Y/N)’s pussy on the rim.

His lips better have not gone anywhere near her.

I can’t stop the thoughts going through my head, or the places my fucked-up imagination keeps taking me, but I know it needs to stop.

I finish off Douchebag’s drink and hand the empty cup back to him. I can feel the alcohol immediately. My muscles ease ever so slightly and I’m starting to function like a normal human being again. I need to regain control of this situation.

“So,” I chose to not even address whatever the hell was going on with me a minute ago. “This is the hot date (Y/N) was all giddy about.” I challenge her.

“You told him this was a date?” Douchebag raises an eyebrow and turns his attention to (Y/N) who’s shooting me daggers with her eyes.

“Well I didn’t use those words exactly.” She says through gritted teeth.

“Damn this is embarrassing,” He continues. I smirk to myself and wait for the show to begin. “Because ... I’ve been telling everyone it was.”

Douche, and I can’t stress this enough, bag.

I can’t help but roll my eyes and scoff, which I play off as another cough.

“You Calum, should take care of that cough, and you Corey, follow me to the beer pong table.” I watch as she grabs his hand and pulls him back towards the living room.

I decide to stay in the kitchen and continue adding alcohol to my system. The liquor burns my throat but for the time being it stops the weird thoughts in my head and helps me think more clearly. I mean obviously I’m not jealous or anything because, why the hell would I be. He’s a douche yea, but not because he’s here with the chick I occasionally fuck. And obviously I’m not irritated with her just because she’s here with a douche. It’s just that I needed to get my dick wet and she ignored my call to be here with said douche. Like he’s somehow more important than me getting off.

I stumble back into the living room and find a spot on the couch. Of course from where I’m sitting I have the perfect view of the beer pong table, and therefore the perfect view and Miss Thing and her new boy toy.

I sit watching them as I down beer after beer. My eyes follow (Y/N) intently as she finally walks away from the table towards the kitchen again. Without thinking, my feet are carrying me to the kitchen right behind her.

“Are you like stalking me now Calum?” she spins on her heels noticing me trailing her.

“Fiesty.” I wink at her. She just rolls her eyes and continues over towards the punch bowl to refill her cup. “I just wanted to tell you how good you look tonight.” I lick my lips while allowing my eyes to rake up and down her body, paying particular attention to her breasts.

“Fuck off.” She rolls her eyes at me while shaking her head. She knows this is a game, and she’s fighting hard not to lose.

“Damn,” I place one hand on her neck tilting her head to the side. “You’re sexy when you’re mad.” I make a move to attach my lips to her neck and she lets me. And I know I’ve won. I suck at the sensitive skin and try to push my body closer to hers. “Let me take you upstairs.” I whisper into her neck.

“See I would,” she speaks but doesn’t move away from me. “But, I have a hot date to get back to.” She finally pulls away from me. “I’m just so giddy about it.” She’s mocking me. She smirks as she brushes past me leaving me and my bulge alone in the kitchen.

One hour, and too many shots later I’m still here. At this stupid frat house with these stupid people. I could’ve just gone home, but something keeps me here. I think it’s my obsession with beating (Y/N). Finally proving to her that she should’ve been in my bed with me tonight. Not here with what’s his face. When the first bit of alcohol entered my system, it helped keep my thoughts from running wild. Now that it’s pulsing through my veins as thick as my blood, the thoughts have returned.

I sit on the stairs, watching as (Y/N) grinds her perfect ass against Corbin, or whatever the hell his name was. It makes me sick. He slides his hands down her hips. He could never navigate her body as well as I do – even if she drew him a map. I’m the one that knows all the right places to touch her. I’m the one who knows all the right buttons to push. My name is the name she calls out while I pound into her.

The alcohol is mixing with my lust and my anger and it’s pushing me.

Douchebag spins (Y/N) around and wraps his hands in her hair.

The way that I do.

He tries to lean in and kiss her, but just before his lips meet hers, I’m pushing him off of her. My mind is confused but my fist are determined. I tackle him to the ground and start beating the shit out of him.

“Calum! CALUM GET OFF OF HIM!” (Y/N)’s voice pulls me off of him when no one else has been able to. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I don’t know how to answer her, because truthfully, I don’t know what I’m doing. I stand there glancing around at all the faces of the small crowd that had formed around us.

“He-You-” I was struggling to find a way to blame them for this. She stands there impatiently waiting for me to speak. Her angered expressions triggers something in me. She thinks she can stand here and face off against me. What does she think? She can intimidate me or something?

“You’re the one who should’ve answered my call!” I bite back at her. “Then I wouldn’t have had to come to this stupid ass party in the first place!”

“Calum get over yourself!” Why can’t she just let me win. Why does she have to be so damn stubborn? My body burns with rage and the faces of all these staring people aren’t making things any better.

“What the hell are you all looking at?!” I yell at the nosy ass bystanders. I probably look like a mad man. Wild hair, sweating, with knuckles busted and bleeding. I look scary enough for the crowd to scurry away in all directions turning their attention to something else.

(Y/N), along with the crowd, turns her back on me.

“Don’t,” I grab her arm and spin her back around to face me. “Turn your back on me!”

“Fuck! Off!” She emphasizes each word never letting any of the anger simmer. She jerks her arm away from me and turns her back on me again. I want to say whatever I need to to keep her from walking away from me. And of all the things I could, and probably should say, the best I can do is:

“That guy isn’t right for you!” The words taste foreign on my lips. I’ve never been one to look of for what was “right” for someone. Especially not some girl. The second the words leave my mouth I want to shove them back down my throat.

Now she’ll think she got me.

Now she’ll think she’s won.

“Right for me? Christ Calum it’s a date, not a fucking proposal!” She’s pissed, but at least she stayed. (Y/N) marches up to get in my face. She’s not done with me yet. “And what the hell do you know about right for me?! We fuck on occasion but that doesn’t mean you KNOW ME!”

She turns around and storms off. This time I let her go.

As I watch her walk away from me, I get this feeling. A feeling in the pit of my stomach. A sinking feeling.

Don’t leave me.

The thought scares me. I’ve never wanted someone to stay before, nor did I ever want to want someone to stay. But as the possibility of her staying faded -- leaving me alone -- I realized how desperately I wanted it. How desperately I needed it. Needed her.

This wasn’t a game. It never was. But as she turned her back on me, I couldn’t help but feel like I had just lost.

[karkles-does-things]

13 with Callie and Simeon?

13. “For the most part, I am, in fact, an idiot. But I fully admit to it, which should count for something.”

-----

Simeon had just about given up on learning what the different configurations of Callie's mask meant. He couldn't figure out what he was doing to make them change it, and he couldn't figure out what they were trying to say with them.

She had only had three, very simple, all black-and-white: pleased, disappointed, and undecided. Their lives had revolved around its colors, everything a game of keeping it smiling and smug.

The human's masks were different: brightly colored and full of character, with superfluous patterns and a unique voice for each one. It was doubtless some kind of destabilizing tactic, something to throw him off and confuse him. But if that were the case, he didn't understand why they never seemed to put much effort into making any of them his problem.

The only thing he was sure about at this point was the only thing he needed to know.

The blue mask, the one with no mouth, didn't talk.

The silver one, the one with the beak, only spoke when spoken to.

And all the others talked constantly.

"The swamp shifts slightly, see?" they were saying right now, pointing at the stars. "An hour ago we were travelling more or less due east, with Polaris on the left. But now, see, it's getting closer to being behind us. We're being turned south. It's predictably fey."

They didn't ask a lot of questions. But it seemed like they wanted to. He'd heard them start to, a couple of times.

When they weren't talking, they were making other noises behind the mask. Humming or singing or making weird sound effects with their lips and tongue. Sometimes they would find a word or a phrase and repeat it over and over again. And they reacted to just about everything with some kind of squeak or squawk or squeal.

Simeon had wondered, the first time the blue mask had shown, if it was meant to be some kind of punishment for him. If the human thought that being deprived of the constant chatter was some kind of great deprivation, when he had never asked them to talk in the first place, and showed no sign of liking it. If that was the case, it wasn't working. He wasn't letting it work.

But if that were the case, they were doing it all wrong. Their body language was gentle as ever in that mask, their eyes smiling all the same. And they hummed and squeaked and made noises behind that one, too. All they didn't do behind it was sing.

It was blue almost all the time around the Army Men. It had been more yellow and pink towards the beginning, but after the Military barked and snapped and flashed their teeth at them a few times it reverted to a near-constant state of blue.

Some kind of shell, then?

That would make more sense. It explained why they woke up blue, and why they got blue when it was too late at night. But it didn't explain why, when someone yelled at them in blue, they turned to silver. It didn't explain the times Simeon had seen them go into blue when they thought there was nobody around. But it was close enough.

After they had been separated from the majority of the Unit, yellow and pink had come back with a vengeance, often with a dash of green. They hadn't even talked this much when Simeon had first met them, but now they talked non-stop, sometimes for hours on end, about everything, nothing. Simeon wasn't sure if it meant they were happy, though: there was almost something frantic to it, like they couldn't stop themself.

"-egends about people getting turned around by mysterious forces. It plays on the cosmic horror trope, I think. You rely on the world around you to find your direction, but unbeknownst to you, the world is being changed. At least that's what I thought, but now that it's actually happening to us, a more fair assumption is that something really wants us to die here. Hm, that's not helpful, isn't it? I apologize."

The Captain had yelled at them to shut up more than once. At best, it only deterred the human for an hour, and their mask didn't much change. And he didn't even tell them to be quiet all that much. He didn't actually want them to stop, was the thing. The first time he snapped at them after they were separated from his unit, he'd actually had to prompt them to talk again. The silence had stretched on and on, and the Captain had fidgeted and sweated and stressed until finally he caved and asked the human if there was any place like the Doom Swamp in the Sun World.

(And the human had beamed yellow as a dandelion and told them far more about some far-off human land called "Australia" than either of them had actually cared to know.)

Maybe that was what they wanted. The knowledge that silence was a sure way to punish the painfully needy Military Captain was doubtless filed away somewhere in their head for future use.

But if that was the case...

The Captain was angry, rough, impulsive. Simeon had seen him snap at them after that, for little things, pointless things - seen him deliberately misinterpret their words just so that he could be angry at something. And Simeon could SEE that it hurt them. They flinched and turned silver and curled into themself. He could hear them taking steadying breaths behind the mask, smell the acrid pheromones he'd come to recognize as their fear, and they kept the hunched, sick body language intact even when they didn't know he was watching.

If they knew how to hurt him back, why didn't they?

Simeon shook his head and pulled himself back to the present. The human was talking right now, going on and on about something he had only been half paying attention to. Directions, he thought.

"-stars and the sun are fairly universal in the stories as reliable forms of navigation, but then again, I only really know what I know about this stuff from fairytales, and if fairytales are true, then they can only reasonably be about people who survived their encounters. Survivors bias. But I think we can trust the stars, is what I'm saying, because if we don't have that, we don't have anything. And besides, if whatever is turning us around is serious about doing so, the stars wouldn't keep changing directions. Unless only the stars are changing. Huh. Well, we can only do what we can, really-"

Scanning his environment, Simeon caught a glimpse of the ground on which the human was walking.

"WATCH OUT!"

His entire mind and body flooded with the words and they left his mouth way louder than he meant it to, a roar ripping through the trees.

Time seemed to slow down.

The human flinched. Their hands flew to their ears. They ducked away and stumbled back.

Stumbled into the exact wrong spot.

GO!

Simeon was moving faster than his own thoughts. Down on all fours, claws plunging into the earth. Bounding forward once, then twice, clumps of soil ripping from the ground.

He jumped for it, tackling the human in a leap that pulled them both up and away.

The innocuous, vaguely spiky roots forming a loose oval in the ground snapped up and shut around the spot where Callie had just been standing. They clamped around air with a final-sounding thud.

The Captain flinched back. "SHIT!"

Simeon only had the time to grab the back of Callie's head and turn slightly before they hit the ground. His right shoulder took the brunt of the impact, the two of them skidding a few inches over the earth before coming to a stop.

Not his best landing.

He lay there, left arm curled over the human, and groaned with exasperation, trying to steady his heartbeat.

"Oh my god," said Callie. Their mask had gone blank white, the color it went when they were sleeping. He could see their eyes through the holes. They peered over his arm at the closed jaws of the plant. "Oh my GOD!"

The plant, for its part, realized that it had closed around nothing and began to open again. The Captain cringed and sidled around it.

"Oh my god," said Callie a third time, starting to sit up. Simeon grabbed their shoulder and pushed them back to the ground with a snarl.

Callie yelped.

"What are you DOING?" he snapped, pulling himself up on all fours to glare them in the face. "What's WRONG WITH YOU? You can't just not fucking watch where you're going in the middle of the fucking DOOM SWAMP! For CRYING OUT LOUD, kid, are you some kind of IDIOT?"

Callie stared up at him in shock. He could hear them breathing heavily behind the mask.

"Are you okay?" the Captain asked, jogging up to the two of them. "Holy SHIT!"

"Yeah, we're fine," Simeon snapped, but his eyes were still on the human. Irritation abating, he scoffed and let them go. "Whatever," he muttered, starting to get to his feet.

The mask powered on yellow and pink.

"For the most part, I am, in fact, an idiot. But I fully admit to it, which should count for something."

Simeon's ears pricked up, snapping his head back to stare at the human.

They lay there, expression unreadable behind their bi-colored mask. As he watched, they turned their head towards them and flashed him an impassive peace sign.

Something was bubbling up in Simeon's throat. He shook his head and opened his mouth and...laughed. Just once. A confused noise. But as what they had said began to truly reach him, more began to spill out. Then more, and more, until his head had tilted back and tears were starting to well up in his eyes and he was LAUGHING, laughing like he didn't know it was possible to laugh, and OW his stomach and he couldn't BREATHE-

Callie and the Captain exchanged a look. They started to laugh too, in spite of themselves.

It was an embarrassing length of time later that Simeon started to catch his breath. He straightened up slowly and took deep breaths.

"Lux and Vita, man," said the Captain, stray giggles still bursting out of his mouth at random intervals. He put his hand on Simeon's shoulder. "Are you fucking okay? I didn't even know you could laugh-!"

"I'm fine," said Simeon, waving him off. He steadied his breathing and pointed at Callie.

"It counts for a LITTLE. But you need to watch where you're going, I'm tired of saving your ass from shit that you should easily be able to avoid."

"Okay," Callie giggled. "Fair."

They got to their feet, still trembling with laughter and adrenaline, and stepped towards them. Their knees buckled.

Simeon was there almost before he registered they were falling, one arm curled around their back, the other in front for them to take. They grabbed his arm and steadied themself, leaning gratefully into him.

They were so SMALL. Their frame was light, almost bird-like, and their tiny hands curled around his forearm in a grip that was all their strength and yet that he could hardly feel. And they were warm against him, too, and he could feel their heartbeat and breathing rattling through their flimsy little rib cage-

Callie turned their face towards him. (Beaming, bi-colored mask.) "Thank you," they whispered.

TRICK.

Fear like ice water poured into Simeon's torso, bathing his organs in cold. He struggled to catch his breath as Callie straightened up and continued on.

Was this their plan all along? To act like some innocent, fucked-up little thing that chattered and flinched and shivered and chirped, just to make Simeon...

Make him...

The Captain was weak. He showed it when he liked or didn't like anything that the human did. He caved when they fell silent and reacted when they were frightened and expressed all sorts of reactive emotions like compassion and worry and anger and regret.

Not Simeon. Simeon didn't react either way whether the human talked or not. He didn't beg them to break silence. He didn't ask them what they thought about things. He didn't prompt them, didn't express disappointment when they fell asleep instead of telling him all about some new batch of stars.

No matter how much he wanted to.

But what if it didn't matter whether or not he reacted? What if the goal was just for him to want? What if they already knew how much it was working, how much he-

Well, he had just SHOWN them, hadn't he?

Even if he wasn't betraying emotions, his instincts revealed what he felt. He was acting without thinking. He was showing too much feeling. He was lunging and laughing and gasping and throwing his body around, all while they watched him coldly behind an expressionless, emotionless mask. Expressions and colors and tones cultivated to make him feel things.

And he was getting careless.

-----

Simeon didn't want to figure out what the human's different masks meant. He didn't need to. He already knew what they were ultimately for, what every mask was ultimately for.

They were trying to trick him. To control him, to use him.

They were going about it a different way, sure. His Mistress had been all about earning approval. When she was displeased, horrible things happened, and so everything turned into a game of keeping her sated.

The human was different. The human was worse.

The human was trying to make him like them.

It had almost worked, too. He would give them that. They had been convincingly vulnerable and funny and entertaining and everything they'd wanted him to think about them. But that didn't change the fact that it was all fake, fake, fake.

And he knew better now.

[fullmoonremus]

Nothing Changed But Everything’s Different | Sirius Black x Reader

Warning: slowburn angst, mentions of slight violence, alcohol, no happy ending

Time/Era: Marauder Era, Ages 18-21

Word Count: 10.1k

Summary: Sirius found someone who made him believe in love at first sight. 

Request: Okay! :) Well in that case can I have an ANGST Sirius x Reader? Where they’ve been together for a few years (it’s post-hogwarts only a couple years) but the relationship is starting to sour and crumble. Sirius being Sirius is flirting with other girls and just neglecting y/n. They argue a lot and everyone can see that it’s deteriorating. It gets to a point where he just flat doesn’t acknowledge her even though they live together, long and ANGSTY pls 🥺 :) U decide the ending! :) Ty, much love!

A/N: I worked really, really hard on this so I hope you enjoy :) Let me know what you think :)

part 2 | masterlist | marauders era playlist | read on ao3

“She’s absolutely gorgeous, Prongs!” A young Sirius Black twirled around the dorm room and fell onto his bed with a dreamy sigh. “She’s witty and smart mouthed, but she’s so sweet and nice at the same time. She listens to the Weird Sisters and Queen and she’s a total badass.” 

“Y/N L/N?” James scoffs, bending over a sketch he was working on. It appeared to be an intricate building of some sort, complete with four stories and geometric windows. 

“Yes, Y/N L/N! I think it’s love at first sight, Prongsy. I’m going to marry that girl one day.” Sirius laid one of his ankles against the post of his bed. The leather of his boot made a loud squeaking noise, and James cringed.

“Have you ever even talked to Y/N L/N?” James smiled smugly and smudged ink across the side of his hand. 

“Have you ever had an actual conversation with Lily Evans?” Sirius countered, making James sputter. James looked diagonally towards Sirius and moved his head so their corresponding bedposts weren’t in the way. 

“I have! This morning, for example! We talked about the morning toast for a full 3 minutes!” His glasses began to fog as his cheeks warm. Sirius laughed heartily and threw the pillow that was under his head square at James’ face. With a deep ‘oof,’ James looks back towards Sirius, glasses now crooked. “Fine, don’t believe me! You’re just angry Evans is finally starting to fall for my charm.” 

“Ah yes, my bad. I forgot sweat and body odor was irresistible to girls.” 

“Lily isn’t a girl.” James reached his slender fingers to level his glasses. “She’s a woman.” 

Sirius was sent into hysterics; chest heaving, loud laughter, tearful, hysterics. James rolled his eyes and threw the pillow back at Sirius. But, in all of its glory, the cushion hit Sirius’ bedpost and sent feathers flying through the air. Sirius busts out in even more laughter, falling to the floor with a big, dramatic thud. 

“What’s going on here?” Remus asks, entering the room and setting his bag onto his bed. “Why is Pads on the floor?” 

“JP assaulted me!” 

“I DID NOT YOU THREW FIRST!!!” 

Remus chuckled under his breath and unbuckled his bag to retrieve his homework. “And what exactly caused this alleged assault? Did Sirius call you Prancer again?” 

A bark sounding laugh came from Sirius and James scowled. 

“No, we were just talking about his newfound obsession with Y/N L/N and he took an unwarranted dig at mine and Lily’s relationship.” 

Remus snorted and set his work on his desk. “What relationship?” Sirius let out another “HA” and pulled himself back onto his mattress. “And isn’t Y/N L/N the one who called your hair greasy, Pads?” 

“Well, yes, but I like a woman with a bit of attitude,” Sirius sighed dreamily. His left pointer finger, ring and all, came to twirl a chunk of his hair. “I think I want an autumn wedding.” 

“You’re not getting married to her, mate. You don’t even know her.” James came to Remus’ bed and started poking around his bag. “Are you putting on the scar ointment Pomfrey gave you still, Moons? Hey! Stop picking at that one, you’re going to make it worse!” He slapped Remus’ hand away from his face and Remus rolled his eyes. 

“Who are you? My mother?” 

“I am too going to marry her, James! Just watch me!” 

Peter opened the door solemnly, a grumpy look plastered on his face. James turns nervously towards him before slapping him on the back. 

“What happened, Pete? I thought you were supposed to be on a date?” 

“I was, but she stood me up. Again.” Peter responds, making a beeline for the window seat. Conveniently, it was located next to his bed, so he haphazardly tossed his school bag onto the mattress. He grabs hold of one of the pillows before hugging it to his chest and burying his head into it. Sirius and James share a look before Sirius speaks up. 

“Awh, you’ll get ‘em next time. Don’t worry too much about it. It’s her loss, really.” 

“No, it was my loss. It was Abagail Cavin, mate. It was definitely my loss.” Peter’s voice was muffled as he muttered into the soft fabric. 

“Who’s Abagail Cavin?” Sirius asks, looking towards Remus for an answer. He shrugs. 

“I think that’s the ginger girl who always hangs around Y/N L/N? A year or two below us,” James thought aloud. “She’s friends with Lily too, I’ve seen them studying together.” 

Remus snorts. “Of course you have.” 

“I don’t know if I’m sad or angry.” The mousy boy admits, throwing the pillow in his lap at the wall. It hit one of Sirius’ Queen posters, making the frame fall to the floor with a loud crash. James is quick to swoop in and redirect Peter’s attention in fear of him escalating. 

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay, there’s no need to get mad at Abagail. Um, how about we go get some sweets from the kitchens, yeah? Maybe that’ll make you feel better.” 

Peter tightened his jaw, staring at the now shattered frame on the ground. After a moment of silence from all the boys, Peter nodded and the pair exited the room. 

~

“Y/N L/N,” Sirius spoke in his signature flirty voice. He tried to match her walking pace, but she seemed to be in a rush. 

“Sirius Black, what can I do for you?” Y/N answered, her school uniform skirt swaying as she walked. She was on her way to meet Abagail in the library so the two could study together, and she was already 5 minutes late. 

“I was wondering if you would -excuse me, sorry- if you would like to go to the next Quidditch match with me?” Y/N seemed to swerve in and out of the crowded hallway like a car in heavy traffic. “Supposed to be a good game, you know.” 

“Me? Go with you? While you cheer your little boyfriend on? Thanks for offering, but I have to decline.” 

“Come on, you always go anyway! It could be fun!” Sirius finally matched Y/N’s fast gait. “And maybe we could grab some hot butterbeer or cider after.” 

Y/N sighed, suddenly stopping at the entrance of the library. She faced Sirius boldly and grabbed his upper arms with her hands. 

“Listen, it’s really flattering that you want me to go with you, and I have to admit, you’re super cute. But, you don’t exactly have the best track record with girls and I don’t want to be just a checkmark on your list of girls to shag.” 

While any person would be wounded by Y/N’s blunt assumptions, Sirius grins. “That’s where you’re wrong, love. I don’t really have a track record with girls, unless you count the week I dated Marlene McKinnon the October of our 2nd year. It’s our 7th year and I’ve had one kind-of girlfriend.”

Sirius watched as Y/N’s facial expression changed. Taking this as an invitation to keep going, he rubs his hands together and continues. “And if you’re talking about shagging, I’ve shagged maybe three girls who were not on some kind of to-fuck list, thank you very much.” Sirius suddenly leans in so he could whisper. “I’m just flirty. And based on the look on your face, the flirting is working.” 

“Y/N!” Abagail’s voice made Y/N drop her hands and Sirius smirk. “What are you doing?” 

“Oh, we’re just chit chatting,” Sirius answers for Y/N. “But, I do have a question for you, Ab.” 

Abagail’s face scrunched in response. “Don’t call me that. What’s your question?” 

“Why’d you stand up my mate Peter?” Sirius now stood with his feet shoulders width apart, arms crossed over his chest and his hair pulled to one side. Y/N couldn’t help but admire how well Sirius’ uniform pants fit. 

“What do you mean, stand him up? We talked about hanging out, but we never made actual plans. Honestly, I don’t really think I want to make any official plans. Some of the things he says are kinda scary.” Y/N looks sympathetically towards her friend.

“I told you to just ignore him, babes.” 

“I know, I know. I really think he’s a nice guy deep down though.” 

Sirius looked puzzled, “What harmless, little Peter Pettigrew says scares you?” 

Abagail nods frantically, “He came and sat with Lily and me when we were studying in the library last week. He went on a rant about how he can’t wait to become an Auror just to see,” The girl lifted her fingers to so air quotes. “How far he can take it.” 

“That doesn’t sound like Peter at all,” Sirius’ eyebrows knit in confusion. 

“Well, it was. And Y/N and I have a lot of studying to do. So, if you’ll excuse us.” Abagail gently tugged at Y/N’s arm. 

“Wait! So, is it a date, Y/N?” Sirius called after the girls. Y/N turned over her shoulder and beamed. 

“Common room before the match. I don’t like to be kept waiting, Black!”

~

“You don’t like to be kept waiting… but you think it’s perfectly okay to leave me all alone in the common room? That’s not very kind, Y/N.” Sirius watched Y/N descend the stairs to the girls dormitory. He was wearing his Gryffindor sweater and ripped black jeans, his hair tied messily in a bun. A long, striped scarf dangled lazily on his shoulders and draped down his frame to his mid thigh. 

“I said before the match and if I’m not mistaken, it’s before the match.” Y/N tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Are those for me?” 

Sirius quickly stood, holding out a beautiful bouquet of sunflowers. “Heh, yeah. I thought it was fitting because it’s the middle of October and we’re going to a Quidditch match. The leaves are orange and there’s so many colors and the sunflowers have the same kind of color pallet-” 

“Sirius, they’re lovely. Thank you.” Y/N cut off the blabbering boy. She took the flowers happily and observed their pretty petals. Sirius was right; the rich golden color matched the fallen leaves that littered the Hogwarts grounds. Y/N held up a waiting finger to Sirius so she could go leave her flowers in her dorm. 

“It’s pretty cold out, love, do you want to grab a jacket?” Sirius said when she returned. 

“It’s all in the name of fashion, my dear,” Y/N pulls a piece of hair behind her ear and nods towards the portrait hole. “Shall we?” 

Y/N sat in the crowd with her legs crossed; her shoulders were slumped forwards and her hands stayed sandwiched in between her thighs. Gryffindor was absolutely destroying Ravenclaw with the impressive score of 80-10. 

“The snitch is right by Potter’s head!” Y/N screeched, bumping Sirius’ shoulder with her own. 

“Where?! I don’t see it!” 

“To the right! Meadowes needs to catch it before Lockhart sees it!” Y/N shivers in spite of herself, bringing her hands to her mouth in order to warm them. Sirius snickers and loops his scarf around her shoulders. 

“Hopefully that doesn’t ruin your outfit, love.” Sirius winks and turns back to the game. 

The scarf was soft and toasty, and smelt exactly like Sirius. The satisfying mix of leather, butterbeer, pine and smoke engulfed her senses and made her dizzy. Y/N wrapped it around her arms and snuggled deeper into the soft knit. 

“Meadowes spots the snitch!” Remus announces over the intercom. The entire statum seemed to erupt into chaos; cheers and boos echoing off of every surface within 500 feet. 

Y/N had always had a soft spot for Remus; they weren’t friends, but something about him was so warm and inviting. He in no way seemed like the type to announce a Quidditch match, but it appears that when you’re friends with James Potter long enough, anything could happen. 

Dorcas zooms past the Gryffindor student section in her pursuit for the snitch. The entire group, Lily and Marlene especially, scream out loud words of encouragement. Y/N could have sworn she could see a faint smile appear across Dorcas’ features. 

“Potter scores! 10 points to Gryffindor! 90-10! Ravenclaw could still win if Lockhart catches the snitch!” 

“Come on, come on,” Sirius mumbles under his breath. No matter how much he liked to deny it, Sirius got really into Quidditch. He couldn’t play for shit, but he knew the mechanics of the game like the back of his hand. 

“Meadowes catches the snitch! Gryffindor wins!!” The entire crowd goes ballistic. Kids hug, and some kiss, before storming the field to congratulate their team. James stays on his broom, doing small loops in the air in the hopes of impressing a certain redhead. 

Sirius wraps his strong arms around his date, pulling her to her feet and lifting her into the air. “We won, Y/N! We won!!” 

Y/N snakes her arms around Sirius in return, a similar happiness bubbling in her chest. 

“What’d ya say about grabbing some hot cider from the kitchens to celebrate?” Sirius questions, noticing they’re the last students at their seats. 

Y/N nods, a soft smile gracing her face. “Yes, please. I’m fucking freezing.” 

~

“It would be easier if you just levitated the boxes in, love.” Y/N watched as Sirius struggled to carry boxes into the living room of their new flat. She giggled, admiring her boyfriend’s flexed biceps and strong hands. The prominent veins in his hands and forearms were bulging, making the manual labor a show for his very happy girlfriend. 

“I feel like that’s bad luck,” Sirius explained, placing the cardboard onto the floor. “I want to do this right. If I don’t we could be cursed.” 

“Whatever you say, babe. But, just so you know, that box goes into the kitchen.” With a flirty wink and smile, Y/N walked into their bedroom to unpack some of their boxes. 

Their new flat wasn’t overly exciting; it was a one bedroom, one bath flat above a small bakery in the center of London. It was a tiny space, as you’d expect two barely-twenty-year-olds to own, but it would soon be their home. Y/N was just excited the flat had a kitchenette and a small living space. 

The best part, in Y/N’s opinion at least, was the fact that the smell of freshly baked bread filled their flat at the beginning of each day. The elderly bakery owners, Jullian and Caspar, had given the young couple a good price on the flat. According to them, they were waiting for the perfect couple to rent from them. What that meant, Y/N didn’t know, but it made her feel special all the same. 

Y/N looked out of their window to the hustle and bustle on the sidewalk below. The shop was a small, hole in the wall bakery called Dream Puffs, that was oddly popular for its location. And Y/N was quick to understand why. Almost everything they made, especially the sour dough bread and cream puffs, were to die for. Jillian had presented Sirius and her a large loaf of the bread and a dozen cream puffs as a welcome present, most of which had been eaten already. Y/N wished she had known of Dream Puffs and the wonderful owners before, but she supposed she still had a lot to discover in London. 

The one downside was the only way to get into their apartment was by going through the bakery. It’s not the worst thing in the world, but when you’re in a rush or having a bad day, having to face random people isn’t the most ideal situation. Jullian and Caspar were nice enough to close the bakery early for the couple’s move in. 

“I thought you were supposed to be unpacking?” Sirius poked his head into their bedroom with sweat dripping down his brow. 

“Oh right, sorry,” Y/N lazily flicked her wand and their clothing sprang to life. 

“Bad luck, Y/N!” He entered the room and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, laid his chin on her shoulder and looked out the window. The busy streets and buildings were muted by the glass, which made Y/N feel as if they were watching ants in an ant farm. 

“I doubt we’ll get bad luck from levitating a few shirts, darling,” Y/N brought one of his hands to her mouth, gently kissing his knuckles before returning it to her waist. “I can’t believe this place is ours,” 

“Well, technically it’s Jillian’s and Caspars, but yes.” Sirius chuckles directly into Y/N’s ear and kisses her shoulder. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.” 

“Are you asking me to marry you?” 

“Yes and no. Not now, obviously, but eventually. We’re going to be together forever anyway, so why should we rush?” 

Y/N sighed happily, feeling very loved. 

~

“Do you think Abagail will ever talk to me again?” Peter asked, laying his head against the armrest of the couch. “I heard she's working at the book shop in Diagon Alley.” 

Y/N snorted, laying her head on her boyfriend’s shoulder and enjoying the sound of the record playing in the corner of the room. Sirius and Y/N were hosting a dinner party for their friends in celebration of James getting accepted into the Auror academy. The nine of them -Sirius, Y/N, James, Lily, Peter, Remus, Marlene, Dorcas, and Mary- were all piled in Sirius and Y/N’s small living room, tipsy and full of warm food. 

“That happened almost two years ago, Pete. Let it go,” Y/N hummed, Sirius’ gentle hand rubbing her back and lulling her to sleep. She could feel the vibrations of Sirius’ laughter through his leather jacket. 

“Yeah, so? I’m not allowed to like someone that long?” Peter’s voice was harsher than he anticipated, making Sirius send a glare his way. 

“She means stop moping around and pining after a girl who doesn’t want you. There’s a world of opportunity and thousands of girls just waiting to date you if you open your eyes to it.” Sirius’ tone was barely lighter than Peter’s. 

“Well I don’t want thousands of girls, Padfoot. I want Abagail. Not everyone can hit it on their first try.” 

“Hit it on their first try?” Y/N was now wide awake. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

“I mean,” Peter sat up, looking Y/N straight in the eyes. “You fucked Sirius on the first date.” 

“Woah, woah, woah, alright that’s enough. Wormy, Pads, Y/N, let’s all just take a deep breath and calm down for a moment.” James was quick on his feet to defuse the potentially harmful situation. He knew how Peter could get, and he didn’t want to see it escalate to that point. 

“Did you just slut shame me for having sex with my own boyfriend? Do you even have the authority to do that, Mr. Unused-Condom?” Y/N was now standing with James, starting to walk towards Peter. Peter stumbled to his feet and stared into Y/N’s eyes. 

“He wasn’t your boyfriend then, Miss Drop-My-Panties-for-a-Knut.” 

Sirius was quick to act, anger boiling inside of him. His knuckles balled into a fist and he threw a nasty punch square into Peter’s jaw. “No one insults my girl, Peter. I thought you knew better than that.” Sirius’ voice was like nothing Y/N had ever heard; it was cold and icy, yet fiery hot and full of hell-bending anger. 

Peter looked up and slugged Sirius right in the nose, making it gush blood. Remus grabs Sirius’ arms and binds them behind his back, trusting James to do the same to Peter. 

Y/N shrieked, having never seen Sirius or Peter get physical with anyone, let alone each other. Marlene grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the boys. 

“What have we talked about, you two?” James demanded, the vein on his neck bulging. 

“I’m not going to sit around and let him harass my girlfriend, JP! He’s a fucking asshole and he knows it!” Sirius struggled against his binds, but Remus was much stronger than him. 

“I’m not the one dating a slut!” 

“Get the fuck out of my flat!” Sirius screams making the room shake. Peter wiggles from James’ grip and grabs his wand before disapperating out of the room. 

Remus releases Sirius and he stomps out of the flat and down the stairs, most likely to go smoke a cigarette. James quickly follows after a glance towards Lily. 

“What did James mean when he said ‘what have we talked about,’ Remus?” Y/N asks, her soft voice a stark contrast from Sirius’ shouting. Remus runs a big hand down his face and plops onto the couch. 

“I wasn’t supposed to let you girls know,” He scoffs, shaking his head. “Sirius and Peter have been at each other’s throats for the past few years. Recently, it started getting physical. James always tries to defuse the situation, but it doesn’t work a ton.” Remus meets Y/N’s gaze and smiles sadly. “That boy would do absolutely anything for you, I hope you know that.” 

~

Sirius laid in bed with his arms wound tightly around Y/N’s waist. It was near 5 am and the light was just barely peeking through the window of their bedroom. The morning bread must have just been put in the oven, as the smell of fresh bread was slowly starting to overtake the flat. A long sliver of silver light slashed against the wall before fading delicately into the white paint. Sirius sighed contently and looked down at his girl. 

Her eyes were closed and her mouth was slightly agape; Sirius observed how Y/N’s eyes moved under her eyelids while wondering what she was dreaming about. He hoped she dreamt of him, as his dreams were constantly riddled with her. Every aspect of her danced around his dreams: her lovely smile, her laugh, her scent, her gait, and everything that made Y/N Y/N. Sirius’ own lips parted a miniscule amount as he brought the back of his fingers to brush her cheek. He couldn’t help but notice how soft her skin was under his touch. She was so peaceful in this moment, and if she was to be disturbed, the world would crack. 

But all good things come to an end, and Y/N opened her eyes. Her features were riddled with the grogginess of sleep as she batted her eyes to focus her vision. 

“Darling? Is everything alright?” Her voice was honey in his ears. 

“Perfect, my love. Go back to sleep.” 

“What time is it?” Y/N began to wiggle from his strong grip, but Sirius tightened his hold on her waist. 

The man shot a spare glance at the old coo-coo clock that hung in the corner. “Quarter to five” 

“Then may I ask why you’re awake?” 

Sirius sighed, pressing an opened mouth kiss on her forehead. “Couldn’t sleep, the nightmares are still awry.” 

“What was it this time? Your mom?” Y/N was now wide awake and propped up onto her elbow. 

“No, the last Order mission, actually,” Sirius gently brushed a clump of hair out of her eyes. “But it’s okay, I’m alright. I have you here with me.” 

Y/N’s eyebrows scrunched and her mouth pierced. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“No, my darling. I just want to lay here with my beautiful girl in my arms.” 

~ 

“I’ve never been to this bar before,” Y/N giggles as Sirius opens the door to the small building. The outside’s appearance was rather unappealing; cracked, exposed brick that has moss growing out of it, a leaky gutter system, a splintering wooden door and a faded open sign. Y/N looked up towards the LED sign that spelled out the bar’s name. Silver Sickle Bar and Eatery illuminated in the wet pavement, but multiple letters were unlit, making it read Silver Ickle and Eat. 

“Me either, one of my clients works here and said she’d give me free drinks.” Sirius winked before following Y/N inside. 

The place was small and drafty, but oddly cozy. It had the same exposed brick as the outside, but this time, they were bright red and covered in picture frames.  A few wooden tables were scattered across the floor opposite the bar, and various older men sat with beers in their hands. 

“Oh, Sirius! My love, you came!” A very angelic girl from behind bar squeals, quickly exciting the bar and throwing her arms around Sirius. Her hurried speed made Y/N step away from the pair to avoid getting caught in the crossfire. Sirius chuckles heartily, wrapping his arms around her small frame, seeming to forget Y/N was there. 

“Vanessa! Nice to see you again,” He exhaled. A sinking feeling settled in the bottom of Y/N’s stomach. “How is your tattoo healing?” 

Vanessa pulls her shirt down to show Sirius the skin in between her breasts. On her skin sat a magical tattoo of a Hongorian Horntail dragon, which looked towards Sirius and blew a big breath of fire his way. The art was gorgeous, very obviously Sirius’ work, which only made Y/N’s stomach sink further into her feet. The red, lacy, v neck bra Vanessa was wearing brought out the ink in the tattoo perfectly, and the shape of the cut displayed not only her breasts, but the dragon beautifully. 

Y/N knew that many of Sirius’ clients were girls; she wasn’t stupid. He was a newly licensed tattoo artist at the biggest magical tattoo parlor in all of London. Not to mention, Sirius was an incredibly talented artist, which meant his appointment list was extremely difficult to get on. The charming attitude and good looks only added to the appeal of his artistry. 

“Who’s this?” Vanessa turned her gaze from Sirius’ to look directly at Y/N. Her long, black hair fell over her shoulder like a waterfall and her porcelain skin glowed under the dim lighting. 

“Oh! Right,” Sirius stuttered, shooting a grin in Y/N’s direction. “This is my gorgeous girlfriend, Y/N. Y/N this is Vanessa, I did her dragon tattoo last week.” 

Y/N forced herself to send a polite smile towards the girl who was just all over her boyfriend. Vanessa sent an equally fake smile and began to walk back to the bar. 

“And what can I get started for you, handsome?” She giggled, standing in front of the large wall of liquor. Y/N felt as if she was back at Hogwarts with all the girls throwing themselves at Sirius. 

“Old fashioned,” Sirius responded, taking place on one of the wooden stools. “And for the lady, tequila on the rocks with lime.” 

Vanessa sends Y/N an icy look before giggling sweetly. “Coming right up.” 

Y/N sends a worried glance towards Sirius, but he just responds by squeezing her thigh and kissing her temple. 

“So, do you have any tattoos? Since you’re so good at your job, I would assume you do, yes?” Vanessa asks, pouring Sirius’s drink and sliding it towards him. 

“Quite a few,” He catches the glass before it flies off the bar. “Most of them are covered by my shirt though.” 

It was true, Sirius’ torso and shoulders were littered with tattoos: A large lion across his right shoulder onto his bicep, stag antlers across his shoulder blades, a moon on the lower left side of his stomach, rat paw marks under the moon, and constellations riddling his collarbones. 

The bartender tilts her head to the side cheekily. “Can I see them?” 

Sirius chuckles in a very happy, flattered way. “I don’t think that’s quite necessary here,” 

“But I can already see this one…” Vanessa reached her arm across the bar and traced the bottom of the lion’s mane with her long, slender fingers. The tattoo seemed to move with her movements. “Can’t I see the rest?” 

Y/N coughs, slapping her hand against the bar. The vibration of Y/N’s sudden movement caused Sirius’ drink to wobble inside the glass. “I think I ordered a tequila not a random chick flirting with my boyfriend.” 

“Of course, how foolish of me.” Vanessa sent a scowl Y/N’s way and turned her back to fetch the bottle of alcohol. Sirius matched Vanessa’s expression. 

Once the flirt finished making Y/N’s drink, she slid it over to her. Y/N took a sip, only to find it was awfully made and very watered down. 

“Sirius, babe, I have a headache, can we go home?” 

“You didn’t have a headache a minute ago?” Sirius raises an eyebrow. 

“I know, I just feel a migraine coming on. I really need to take my migraine potion before it gets bad. Please?” 

Sirius sighs and nods, throwing an arm around her shoulders and kissing her temple. “Of course, babygirl.” 

The pair stand from their stools but Vanessa stops them. “That’ll be 2 galleons for the tequila.”

“You said you’d give me free drinks?” Sirius placed a comforting hand on Y/N’s lower back, rubbing small circles over her shirt. 

“Yeah, for you. The tequila wasn’t for you.” 

“Yeah, fine, whatever.” Sirius reached into his pocket and pulled out two galleons, slamming them onto the bar. 

“Can I bet on seeing you again?” A loud giggle comes from her mouth as the couple exited the building. “Maybe you can show me your tattoos.” 

~

“I don’t know, Lily! She was all over him and he didn’t stop it.” Y/N bit into an apple and traced the Potters’ tablecloth. It was a month after Sirius and Y/N had visited The Silver Sickle, and Y/N couldn’t keep her anxieties to herself. 

“Have you tried talking to him about it?” Lily responded, kneading a big glob of pie crust at the counter. Potter Cottage was much larger than Sirius and Y/N’s flat above Dream Puffs. Earlier that month, Lily had announced she was pregnant, so James decided it was time to upgrade from their small flat to a house fit to raise a family. 

“Yes, but each time I try to bring her up he gets defensive and assures me that it was nothing, that he was trying to get free drinks.” 

Lily stared down at her dough intensely before grabbing her rolling pin. “Well, I wouldn’t let him get away with it. Maybe try to ask him again tonight? Just sit down and have a real, hearts on the table conversation about your feelings and whatnot. It’s important to do that.” 

“Yeah, that’s the thing. He’s been staying at work late this entire week. Apparently, one of his clients is getting a full back tattoo and it’s taking multiple sessions to finish. This is his biggest job to date, I don’t want to ruin it for him.” 

“How late is late?” The mom-to-be laid the pie crust into her pan and began to trim the excess off of the edges. 

“Nine, sometimes ten. He comes home exhausted.” 

“Hm, okay. I’d still try to speak with him if you can. How’s your work going? St. Mungos treating you well?” 

“Oh, yeah, definitely. My supervisor said that I’m one of the best beginning level healers he’s seen since Pomfrey worked in my ward,” Y/N took another bite of her apple. “I might get transferred to the branch in France for a week coming up, though. There was a big gas explosion and they have over 200 burn victims. My supervisor said it would be a good experience for me.” 

“Oh, I read about that in The Prophet! Those poor people,” Lily filled the crust with apple pie filling. “I’m sure they need all the help they can get.” 

“Oh, I know. I haven’t learned much about burn solvents yet, so it’ll be interesting to learn on the job.” 

“Are you going this week? What a shame, it’s your birthday on Saturday.” 

“Oh, no, the earliest I would be leaving is a fortnight from now. I’m kind of a last resort since I don’t have much experience or training yet.” Y/N stood and threw her apple core into the bin. “How’s JP doing at the Academy? He’s in his second year by now, right?” 

“Oh, he’s doing lovely. The Order is grateful for his efforts and have been sending him on more missions than before.” Lily sighs. “It’s rather nerve wracking, isn't it? You’re lucky Sirius doesn’t get called on many.” 

Y/N laughed a bit uncomfortably. “Yeah, I suppose they prefer actual Aurors to go on the calls. But when he does go, those are the worst nights. I can’t imagine having to go through that on a daily basis.” 

“It’s really hard,” Lily’s voice cracks and she begins to cry. “I’m sorry, it’s the hormones.” 

“Don’t apologize, Lils. I know how scary it can be. At least he's with Wormtail most of the time, yeah? They’re at the academy together and all.” 

Lily takes a deep breath to control her crying. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. Thank god for Wormy.” 

~

“Hello there, pretty lady. I heard there’s a 21st birthday party to be thrown?” James said happily as Y/N opened the door of the flat. Lily and Remus tailed him ever so slightly, all three wearing large grins and holding brightly wrapped packages. 

“Birthday party? You guys don’t-” 

James waved his hand dismissively. “We’re already here, so you’re kind of stuck with us. Peter should be here eventually.” The three push their way into the living room. 

“The nice elderly woman downstairs asked me to bring you this,” Remus held out a cupcake with bright red frosting. Y/N took it happily and walked to the kitchen to set it on the counter. 

“Thank you, Moony. But, really, you guys didn’t have to. Sirius isn’t even here.” Y/N felt self conscious around her friends. She was wearing an old tee shirt from her early teens, a beloved Scooby-Doo tee with a rip in the left armpit, and black yoga pants. It was safe to say Y/N was more than ready to spend her birthday alone. 

“What do you mean, not here?” Remus was standing in the corner of the living room, flipping through Sirius and Y/N’s record collection. They had so many at this point that the couple was unsure which record belonged to who. 

“I don’t know, he left early this morning saying he got called into work. Something about an angry customer.” Y/N felt small under the group’s gaze. “I wasn’t really paying attention, I was half asleep.” 

Y/N watched as Lily and James shared a look. “I didn’t think the shop was open on Saturdays, but I guess they are.” Y/N’s shoulders lowered visibly, making Lily backtrack. “It’s the pregnancy brain, Y/N. I’ve been mixing things up for the past week and a half.” 

“Right, right. Of course. Um, how’s that going, by the way?” She crossed her arms across her stomach uncomfortably. 

“Oh, it’s going wonderful! We actually have something to give you, if that’s okay.” 

“Wait!” James cut in. “We should wait for Wormy to get here!” 

Lily hit his chest with the back of her hand. “Oh, come off it. You know how late he is to everything! Let’s do it now.” The couple led Y/N to the couch and sat on either side of her, both wearing matching shit-eating grins. Remus remained leaning against the wall, ready to flip the record when the time came. James placed a medium-sized purple box on her lap. 

Y/N carefully undid the wrapping paper, prompting James to let out a loud groan. 

“Any day now, woman!” 

Y/N giggled. “Hey! It’s my birthday! Be nice to me!” 

“I am being nice to you, Y/N! I gave you a present, didn’t I?” 

Y/N bumped her shoulder with his and reached into the box. Her fingertips met with the soft fabric of a tee shirt. Upon pulling the garment out completely, she observed that the words World’s Best Godmother was printed across the front. Immediately, Y/N dropped the shirt and covered her mouth with her hand. 

“Is that a yes?” Lily asked, her eyes tearing again. 

“Yes! Oh my god!” Y/N’s own tears trailed down her cheeks as she hugged both tightly. “Me? Godmother?” 

“I can’t think of anyone more worthy,” Remus remarked as he watched the heartwarming scene unfold in front of him. Y/N was so overwhelmed with joy that she had almost forgotten that Sirius was absent. Almost. 

The party went along swimmingly from there on out; Peter had arrived shortly after Y/N unboxed Remus’ gift, a new cauldron and potion ingredients, and another gift from the Potters, a pair of gorgeous black combat boots. The mousey-boy shuffled over to Y/N and handed her a small gift bag. 

“Oh? Thanks, Pete.” Y/N awkwardly pulled out the contents of the bag. “Oh, good, a gift card to Silver Sickle Bar and Eatery.” She tried to sound thankful towards the man in front of her, but the disdain was still evident in her voice. 

“Sirius said it was his favorite bar, so I thought you’d like it. Maybe we can grab some lunch there, obviously my treat,” He lazily gestures to the card in her hand. “We haven’t really hung out for a while. I figured it would be nice. If you don’t like it I can get you something diff-” 

Y/N cut him off with a hug, “Thank you, Peter, this was really thoughtful. Would next week work?” 

“Wednesday?” He wraps his arms around Y/N’s frame for a moment before letting go. 

“Wednesday works perfectly.” 

The four continued to hang out well into the night; laughing, chatting, drinking, listening to music, and playing board games. As the party dragged on, Y/N couldn’t help but grow worried about Sirius’ whereabouts. Her worries were harshly pushed aside, though, when Lily suggested they play poker. 

“Ugh, I fold.” Peter slams his cards down onto the coffee table and laid back onto the carpet in defeat. Y/N smirked at Remus, her only opponent, and gestured for him to show her his cards. 

“Straight, beat that,” Remus says confidently. James and Peter “oooh” childishly and looked towards Y/N. It was very apparent that all of them, besides Lily, were very buzzed. 

Y/N smirked and shook her head, “You play a hard bargain, Lupin. So good that I applaud you. But,” Y/N laid her hand on the table: four of a kind. “You’re just not good enough.” 

The room laughs as Y/N pulls the large pile of galleons, sickles, knuts and Lily’s wedding ring towards her. Y/N slips it onto her own ring finger and holds her hand as if to admire it. 

“Oh, Lily, dear, don’t you just adore my new ring? Look at how it glistens in the light!” 

The redhead rolls her eyes and snatches it off of Y/N’s finger. “I’ll just be taking that,” She puts it back on. 

“It will forever be known to be my legal property, Evans. Don’t forget it!” 

“Does that mean I’m married to both of you now?” James smiles a dopey grin and looks back and forth between the two women. Y/N pretends to gag. 

“On second thought, I surrender my rights to your ring.” 

The group continued their laughter until the front door of the flat swung open. A very drunk Sirius Black stumbled in the door, dumbfounded as to why all of his friends were in his house. 

“Why are you guys here?” Sirius slurred, pulling up the shoulder of his leather jacket. He bumped the record player in the process, making Go Your Own Way by Fleetwood Mac skip. 

“It’s Y/N’s birthday, Sirius,” Remus responded, his soft voice contrasting to his previously upbeat tone. Sirius slouched against the wall and slid down it until he hit the floor. 

“Y/N’s birthday...Y/N’s birthday...Oh! Y/N’s birthday! Was that today?” 

James was quick to jump into action. Propelling himself off of the couch, he took Sirius into his arms and brought him to a standing position. Sirius, of course, whined the entire way up, claiming that the floor wanted him to sit there. James responded with a small hum before peeling Sirius’ jacket off of his body and throwing it onto the kitchen counter. As Y/N watched, she couldn’t help but notice a bright pink smear on Sirius’ neck. 

“Yes, it’s today, you big goof. Where have you been?” 

Sirius went into a big flurry of words as James brought him towards the bedroom. Y/N thought she heard ‘And you should have seen her!’ amidst all the jumbled words, but she pied that off as her anxious imagination running awry. Lily’s hand found her back and she rubbed soothing circles on Y/N’s shoulder blades. 

“He forgot,” Y/N said to no one in particular. “I can’t believe he actually forgot.” 

“I’m sure he didn’t forget,” Lily soothed Y/N, rubbing circles into her shoulder blades. “He probably got carried away at happy hour, you know how he gets.” 

“Happy hour on Y/N’s birthday though?” Peter shook his head. Something about his tone didn’t sit well with Y/N. Lily shot a glare his way. 

The party did not last much longer; Remus said he had an interview with Dumbledore about a TA position at Hogwarts, Lily was tired, and Peter said that he was going on a mission tomorrow and needed rest. Y/N bid her friends farewell with large hugs and thank you’s. 

It’s safe to say that Y/N slept on the couch that night. 

~

Y/N awoke to sunlight in her eyes and a crick in her neck. The living room window wasn’t guarded with curtains, so even at the early hour of 4:30 AM, the room was illuminated with soft oranges, reds, and pinks. Y/N sat up and reached her hands above her head to stretch her back. She looks towards the bedroom door, listening for the soft snores of her boyfriend. Her neck screamed in agony, but she still stood and padded over to open the door. 

Y/N twisted the doorknob with care, trying to be as silent as humanly possible. She needed to see Sirius, not have a conversation with him. Alas, in all his glory, Sirius lied on his stomach with his mouth hung open and drool oozing onto the pillow. The girl admired how he looked as he slept; the sharp jaw, the perfect skin, the messy hair, the peaceful look gracing his features. He still wore his skinny jeans from the day previous, but at some point during the night, he discarded his white dress shirt. Y/N’s gaze darted around the floor until it landed on the crumpled fabric. 

Y/N glanced back at Sirius, admiring the artwork that filled his back. She remembered the day he got it; James cried when he first saw the gorgeous antlers. The low light highlighted the dark brown ink and seemed to make his skin appear airbrushed. Y/N smiled in spite of herself. 

Closing the door softly, Y/N walks into their small kitchen to prepare some tea in order to calm her nerves. The apartment was rather messy from the ‘party’ and Y/N had to dig through endless dirty dishes to find a mug clean enough to use. Y/N finally found one, a lavender mug that Marlene had given her for her 17th birthday, and set it on the counter while she filled the kettle. 

The kitchen wasn’t as dirty as Y/N previously thought. Sure, the sink was overflowing with dishes, but the kitchen itself was rather clean. And besides Sirius’ leather jacket, the counter was clear. The floor, though, was slightly sticky. Y/N sighs and flicks her wand; almost silently, the dishes start cleaning themselves. 

Y/N reaches for Sirius’ jacket, only to have a squishy substance fall onto her feet. She jumps back in surprise and disgust of the weird texture. But, the real panic sets in when she notices a big red spot on not only the floor but the leather jacket. Upon further investigation, Y/N realizes it’s the frosting from the cupcake Remus had given her. Sirius was very protective of this jacket and if he saw this, Y/N would be a dead man. So, she did the only reasonable thing she could think of: scrub the material with a wet paper towel. 

Thankfully, the frosting came off easily and didn’t stain the material. The only real obstacle was the sweet scent of the frosting lingering on the garment. Sirius had an insane sense of smell, so if he picked up even the slightest trail of sugar, Y/N would be busted. She delicately lifted the material to her nose. 

The musky scent of Sirius filled her nose as normal; leather, smoke, cologne, and spearmint. Y/N grinned at the familiar scent until she noticed a strong rose perfume almost ingrained into the leather. Y/N’s perfume smelled of vanilla. 

~

Y/N held her breath as she opened the door of the Silver Sickle, she was in no mood to see Vanessa again. All the same, Y/N put effort into her appearance just in case. She let out her breath when she noticed an old man behind the bar and Peter sitting in the corner. 

“Hey,” Y/N said breathlessly as she pulled out one of the wooden chairs and sat down. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel a little nervous meeting Peter alone; the two seemed to rekindle their friendship after he and Sirius fought. He promised that he was just drunk and not thinking, and Y/N not wanting to cause childish conflict within their friend group, had accepted his apology. 

“Hey!” He squeaked. “I didn’t know if you wanted to day drink or not, so I just ordered you a water to start off with.” 

Y/N laughed awkwardly. “Thanks, Wormy.” She took a long sip from her straw, trying to slow her nervous heart. “So, uh, how’s the academy? James said you are taking more and more missions with the order.” 

Peter nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, it’s great! Being an Auror is really fun, you really get to show people who’s boss, ya know?” 

“Um, I guess?” 

“I think they’re gonna kick me out, though. I haven’t done the best job at catching who I’m pursuing.” Peter raises his eyebrows and cocks his head to the side. 

“Oh? Why not?” Y/N glanced over the menu, only half listening to what her companion was saying. 

“I just like to play with them a ‘lil, like a cat and mouse. Except this time, I’m not the mouse.” 

Y/N looks at a delicious looking chicken sandwich on the menu and hums in response. 

“So, how are you and Sirius doing? It seemed pretty rough last week.” Peter takes a chunk of ice from his drink and starts chewing it. “If you want to talk about it, I guess.” 

This brings Y/N out of her sandwich-filled thoughts. “I don’t know, to be quite honest. We haven’t spoken much and I barely see him. He leaves early in the morning...comes home late at night…” Peter nods as if he was a therapist listening to a client. “I don’t want to assume the worst but he’s making it rather difficult.” 

“I wasn’t going to tell you this, because it isn’t really my business, but…” He comps down on the ice cube. “I was coming home from a mission a few nights ago and I saw him with a girl. I’m not quite sure what they were doing but it sure as hell didn’t look platonic.” 

Y/N felt her entire world shatter into her lap. “What?” 

“Yeah, I don’t know. She was really short with long black hair and a skimpy cocktail dress. They were walking into that club off of Coventry Street. I almost beat the fuck out of him right then and there, but there were bouncers.” 

Y/N bit her trembling lip and folded her hands in her lap. Rifling through her purse, she slammed the gift card down and stood. 

“Thanks for the lunch date, Peter, but I don’t feel well. I’ll talk to you later, yeah?” 

“Was it something I said?!” Peter yelled at Y/N’s retreating back as she left the bar. 

~

“Are you going somewhere?” Sirius asked, gesturing to Y/N’s packed suitcases by the door. 

“Yup, I’m going to France for a week to aid burn victims,” Y/N finished brushing her teeth before packing her toothbrush. “Didn’t think you’d care.” 

“Well, I do. You could have told me.” He leaned up against the wall and crossed his arms. 

“I would have if I actually saw you.” Y/N wasn’t in the mood to argue; she had about an hour before she had to leave, and she planned on using that time to relax with a cup of herbal tea. 

“What’s that supposed to mean? You see me plenty.” 

“Yeah, when you’re sleeping or showering. There’s not exactly time to chat when you leave early in the morning and come home well past midnight.” Y/N walked into the kitchen and cut a slice of bread. “Oh, by the way, Caspar brought up some sourdough, if you actually want any.” 

“Don’t change the subject like you always do, Y/N. I work hard to support us, you know that.” 

“I work hard too. And I get home before 11 every night. I’m not exactly sure how being a healer gets you home earlier than a tattoo artist, but whatever.” Y/N buttered her now toasted sourdough. 

“Sometimes a piece takes a long time, that’s not my fault! I’ve been getting big jobs recently! You should be happy for me!” 

Y/N let out a harsh laugh as she poured water into the kettle. “Do you really think I’m that fucking stupid, Sirius? Really?” 

“What do you mean? I think you’re rather smart.” Sirius followed Y/N into the kitchen and was leaning against the counter. 

“Yeah? Then why have you been lying to me for the past, I don’t know, two months?” 

“You can’t keep accusing me of things, Y/N. It’s not fucking fair!” Sirius stared holes into Y/N’s back. “For fucks sake! Look at me when I talk to you!” 

Y/N whipped around, her hair fanning around her face as she spun. “You know what’s not fucking fair? Letting a girl feel you upright in front of me. Lying about going into work. Forgetting my birthday and coming home from who knows where drunk as fuck with lipstick smeared all over your neck. Coming home drenched in another girl’s perfume. Taking your fucking side chick to a strip bar while I’m sat at home wondering if you’re fucking dead because we’re in the middle of a fucking war! You don’t know the first thing about fucking unfair!” 

“You’re not going to France, Y/N.” His jaw was clenched and his eyes held nothing but fire. The tone of his voice was like nothing she had ever heard before, at least not directed at her. He usually reserved it for people who yelled nasty things at her from the street, or when someone bad mouthed James. It felt foreign to hear him use it with her. Maybe she didn’t know him as well as she thought she did. “You’re not fucking going, and that’s final.” 

“What are you? My fucking mother? I’m going because I’m actually doing something good for the world, unlike your cheating ass.” Y/N pushed her way past her boyfriend and towards her luggage. 

“Don’t walk away from me!” Sirius followed her strides. He stopped and took a deep breath before continuing. “Y/N, darling, we need to talk about this-” His tone was notably softer than before as if he was trying to glue together shards of glass. 

“Talk about what, Sirius?! How you cheated on me and won’t even deny it? How you betrayed me in the worst way fucking possible? I’m not going to let you manipulate me into putting my career on the line to work out some issue you caused.” 

“What, so now I’m not important? You’re a fucking hypocrite!” 

“And how exactly am I a hypocrite, Sirius? You treat me like shit and whine that I’m done putting up with it? Gonna go cry to James about how you are so upset I wouldn’t hear you out after you cheat on me? Well, go the fuck ahead because James actually has a healthy relationship with a baby on the way. He won’t sympathize with you.” Y/N grabbed the handle of her suitcase and lifted her wand. “I’ll be back in a week and once we’ve had some time to cool off, we’ll talk about this like adults. I’ll see you soon.” 

Just as Y/N apperated out of the room, the kettle whistled and Sirius noticed Y/N left her half-eaten toast on the counter. 

~

It was near two in the morning when Y/N returned home from France the following week. The home was cold, dark, and vacant, and the entire appearance of the small flat had changed. In a week, Sirius had managed to completely trash the house. Even the smell of freshly baked goods was replaced with the sour smell of firewhisky and sex. 

Y/N ventured into the kitchen first, where she observed the large stack of dishes in the sink. Everything from to-go packages to their fine china (normal glass plates from the thrift) were stacked as high as the eye can see. Some were starting to mold and produce the most horrid smell. The stove housed the kettle where Y/N had left it, but this time it was cold and empty. Another pot that contained crusty spaghetti sat next to the kettle, and Y/N cringed at the thought of scrapping it out. She moved to the counter where her toast, now stale, sat. Y/N picked it up between two fingers and threw it into the bin. 

She carried on into the living room next. The couch cushions were tossed about the room and the small fur throw was draped across the back of the couch. The record player in the corner still held the Fleetwood Mac record Moony had chosen on her birthday as if it were a time capsule; Y/N couldn't help but reminisce about how happy she was with her friends that evening. Maybe that proved that she could be happy without Sirius in her life, or maybe it served as a constant reminder that he was woven into every aspect of it. 

Again, the room was covered with food wrappers and alcohol bottles. Y/N feared the liquid that remained in the bottles would leak and stain the carpet, so before moving on to the bedroom, she set each one upright. 

The bedroom was what Y/N feared the most; without her presence in the home, Sirius could have been intimate with an infinite amount of girls in her own bed. She shivered at the thought but pushed on and reached towards the icy doorknob. 

The room was the cleanest out of the entire flat, just various clothes scattered around the floor and a messy bed. Y/N wanted nothing more but to curl up under her warm covers and press her face into the chest of the man she loved most, but that was an impossible task. He didn’t love her anymore and that was something she had to deal with, she just wished she had savored the last time he held her. 

As Y/N explored further into the room, her feet found an article of clothing that neither Sirius nor Y/N owned. Bending at the hips to pick it up, Y/N held a red, lacy v neck bra in between her fingertips. Y/N fingered the material with teary eyes. Another step forward and her feet came into contact with the matching bottoms. Y/N laid the set out neatly on the bed and wallowed; it must have looked stunning on her. 

Y/N walked to the desk, where an ink well was left open and a half-written letter laid face up on the surface. She capped the ink with a wet chuckle. 

“You need to cap your ink, Sirius. If you don’t it’ll dry out. I won’t be there forever to do it for you.” Y/N said aloud, wiping her running nose. She picked up the letter against her better judgment and began to read. 

Prongs,

I know you’re mad at me, but please just hear me out. Vanessa is gorgeous, mate. She’s sweet and nice, but at the same time she's so witty and smart-mouthed. She even listens to Queen and the Weird Sisters!

She made me believe in love at first sight, JP. 

I’m going to marry her one day, mark my words!

The ink began to run as Y/N read and cried, making small blotches of black contrast against the stark white paper. Y/N placed it onto the table and gripped the edge to steady herself. Never in her 21 years on earth had she ever felt such pain, such sorrow. Her pains were usually cushioned by Sirius’ arms and sweet slurred language in the middle of the night, or by her friends’ loud cackles. But this time, this time was different; she was alone, completely and utterly alone. 

Y/N looked to the wall in order to ground herself; a small sliver of silver moonlight slashed against the wall, illuminating the otherwise dark room. Y/N traced the line with her eyes until she landed on the wooden coo-coo clock. 

The clock was one of Sirius’ most prized possessions; it was a gift from his Uncle Alphard that he received when he ran away from the Black family.  Alphard was one of the few Sirius still kept in contact with, and he was a big role model to Sirius when he grew up. Debatably, Alphard was the one who taught Sirius how to be a man. 

The present seemed lame on the surface, but that clock was one of Sirius’ favorite things when he was a child. Sirius had told stories of the long afternoons he would spend in front of the clock, waiting for the small, yellow bird to pop out of the top while Walburga and Orion fought in the background. Y/N respected Alphard with all of her being, but she wanted nothing more than to smash that godforsaken clock. She wanted to destroy everything that made Sirius happy, she wanted him to be under the same pain he was putting her through.

Y/N knew what she had to do at that very moment: she had to get out of London and move far, far away. So far away that no one would ever find her. So, she grabbed the extra suitcases in the flat and began to pack her things. 

Starting at the record corner, she picked every single one of her belongings and shoved them into her suitcase. Y/N had to shrink a few of her belongings, such as the couch, in order to fit, but in a little less than an hour, every hint of Y/N was packed away in three large suitcases. 

Y/N gave one last look at the apartment before apparating to Paris, where she knew she could start a better, more meaningful life. Maybe, she could even find a fresh bakery to supply her with warm loaves of sourdough bread. 

When Sirius returned to the flat the following morning, the only remaining aspects of Y/N were a striped scarf and two galleons folded neatly on the bed next to Vanessa’s lingerie. 

[dwimpala-67]

Whatever Happens....

My two cents on the whole Prequel-Gate ...

Warning: The opinions expressed are purely personal and have no bearing on any person and if they do it’s merely coincidental and are without intention. If you choose to read this, it’s solely at your own risk and the writer is not responsible for any consequences thereof.

Jared and Jensen have been at the heart of Supernatural for past fifteen years. J2 - along with the show have been the source of joy for everyone in the fandom.  We’ve seen them grow up, seen their friendship evolve and seen the way they interact with each other. We fell in love with them, with the beautiful friendship they share, and their compassion and empathy and strength and understanding. These two beautiful individuals weaved their way into our hearts. Somehow, they’ve become a part of our lives. And we trusted them, like we do with any individual that is close to us in real life.

The end of Supernatural was bitter sweet for many of us, especially the J2 shippers. We could see our beloved show being ruined and we all thoughts perhaps, it was time to end it but secretly still wanted a miracle to happen and the story line to be back to its true canonical nature without the OOC story line that was being fed to us. Then came the announcement that Supernatural would end with season 15. Even if we knew the it was inevitable, it was still a shock. We have a saying back in my culture: “Whatever has a beginning, has to have an ultimate end.” And true to that, it was time for Supernatural to end. It doesn’t mean we had to be happy about it. After all, this was the show that meant a lot, personally to many of us.  To see it coming to an end was painful, shocking, even heartbreaking. But we accepted it eventually because life must go on.

With end of the show, we had to accept another reality. To watch our lovely pair - Jared and Jensen- go their separate ways. For 15 years, there never has been a moment where J2 weren’t in each other’s pockets. We saw them refusing to acknowledge personal space, saw them making heart eyes at each other, saw them going on dinner and lunch dates, saw them living together, getting married the same year, saw them grow their family together, saw them living in Austin together, saw them doing campaigns together, saw them golfing together, saw them being there for each other, making each other smile, saw them having each other’s back. We practically saw their love blossoming - for some it was a unique friendship and for some it was more than that. I don’t mean to point anyone out here, but the bottom line is that everyone of the J2 fans saw an ideal relationship between two people we loved the most. We choose to believe in what we saw.  And for us to suddenly see them being away form each other was hard to digest. It still is!

But we chose to believe everything was good, because we believed what our eyes saw. The way Jared and Jensen talked about each other in interviews even after the finale, the way they spoke at the virtual conventions, the way they interacted on social media and even the few instances of fans seeing Jared in Colorado exactly the time it was Jensen’s birthday, the way Jared knew about Jensen’s Soldier Boy suit before anyone else, and I could mention countless such instances that made us believe that the relationship these two idiots share was special and perfect. The kinda thing that can be called “made for each other.”

One fine day, we came to know not everything was as we believed it to be. It turned out Jensen did something by not telling Jared anything about it when the latter has been an integral part of the original concept. Everyone was beyond shocked. Each one of us felt betrayed, angered, pained at the way our beloved pair had a public fallout. Some chose to take sides and some decided to leave the fandom while others decided to be angry and disappointed in Jensen. There was despair all around and no one knew what was going on behind the closed doors. The only thing we knew was Jared was hurt and Jensen was the reason behind it.

I won’t go into the what, why and how of the whole fiasco, because by now, everyone has their own theories as answers to these questions. I have mine too. I see these theories as some sort of “justification” from our side to make sense of the situation. It’s not wrong because we’re searching for answers. We’re also searching for answers we will never get. (Unless either of the J’s decide to speak on it.) But there are a few questions that I feel are important to be addressed.

Do we have the right to feel angry and hurt over the issue? Absolutely Yes.

Do we have the right to take sides? Of course.

Are our feelings of hurt and pain that we resonated with Jared valid? Hell yes.

Everyone has a coping mechanism and the initial emotions or reactions were absolutely valid. However, it’s what happened later that has me thinking.

1. Do we have the right to know what happened behind the scenes? Probably but we would never. There lies the uncertain feeling of “how should I proceed from here?” and “How do I feel about it?”

2. Do we have the right to demand an explanation or an apology from Jensen? Absolutely no.

3. Do we have the right to throw vile words at/abuse the people involved? Hell no.

I would like to look at the whole thing in perspective. This has affected many of us and perhaps woken us up with a hard slap of reality.

For all of the 15 years, we’ve been fed with the “happy couple” image and for us, maybe the boys became the image of the “perfect couple with no issues” and when there was a very public spat between the two, there was a serious damage to our perception. This is where people didn’t know how to react. Many spoke out their emotions clearly, many were sad, confused and scared and many decided to be bitter. Few decided to leave I have no problem with it, I don’t judge, as I said earlier everyone has their own coping mechanism.

I feel like the issue is, as fans we are here to celebrate and have fun and not become entitled to know the truth or demand answers from the celebrities. Sometimes we forget entitlement is a delusion based on self centeredness. The demand to know what happened or the demand for Jensen to apologize in a particular manner cannot be the way we deal with the situation.

We need to consider the fact that the people we idealize, in this case J2, are also that - “people” or “Humans” to be more precise. Humans make mistakes. Just like we do in our everyday life. the problem with celebrities is, anything they do feels like “more than life” size. Even a small compliment makes us go “aww” and a disagreement/misunderstanding makes us go “Omg! They’re enemies.” It’s normal reaction because we hold them in the highest regard like “celebs/fan favs can do no wrong.” So, when this happened with J2 everyone had a reaction like this was the end or it has ruined it for me, or I’m done with this fandom. There were also a few reactions like anger and entitled demands. I always say false sense of entitlement always brings you doom rather than happiness.

The fact remains, Jensen disappointed all of us. A huge blow was dealt to the “happy couple” image and we all were left floundering. I was observing the reactions and I suddenly realized I’m far too much invested into the lives of two actors whose lives are already complicated. I mean, after the entire chaos, I too felt sad, angry and disappointed. It was upsetting me more that it should. Fandom is a space where I come to escape from real life. But if Fandom starts affecting my real life so bad as to make me upset, I felt like there’s something wrong. It shouldn’t be the reverse of what I would rather have the fandom to be, which is a happy place or the place where I go too relive my stress. And if the apparent relationship status of two actors affects me this much, it’s time to take a step back, evaluate and then proceed.

the other day, I was reading a twitter thread full of theories and according to the fans who was right and who was wrong and etc, etc, etc. I found, it shouldn’t matter to me to judge who was right and who was wrong. I’m in no position to judge who felt what, because in no way am I the party involved in the conflict. It’s a conflict between J2, who had some issues obviously and they manages to talk about it and even let us know that they are good. Now, I personally, felt like if the J’s claim they’re alright, then why should I doubt or even theorize about how their friendship has taken a toll. If someone tells me they’re fine, I usually believe them to be fine, unless I see something contrary to the fact. In this case, either of the J’s didn’t comment further on the matter and just as I was watching everyone calm down, other elements decided to jump into the muddy waters and splatter it everywhere.

The interesting thing about Kripke’s tweet was “assumption.” This word “assumption” is a very interesting word and has the capacity to blow up even the most calming waters. So, Kripke assumed, and then based on Kripke’s assumption, everyone else assumed. I’m just pointing out what happened, in no way am I justifying any of the J’s behavior. Just a thought. So assuming Kripke was right we assumed Jensen deliberately kept Jared out of the project and the issue escalated even more. Everyone was jumping the gun and then as miraculously Kripke has tweeted, he also deleted those tweets. Then came the damage control.

When Jensen and Jared had tweeted about the “truce” I thought the matter was supposed to be put to rest. Perhaps Kripke deleting the tweets and then Jensen going back to promoting his prequel was their way of brushing off the conflict and focusing more on what was more important to them: The Winchesters prequel. Another theory to add to the already existing million ones..lol.

Does this mean we should be hateful and abusive towards Jensen? No.

Our feelings of disappointment are valid but it doesn’t mean I have aright to be abusive at Jensen. No matter how he acted nothing gives me the right to throw abuse at anyone unless I’m the one who’s directly involved in the conflict. They way I see it, as a fan, I was hurt and caught off guard but I am in no position to judge either Jensen or Jared, especially when they say they’re alright. I decide to trust them. I choose to trust them, just I chose to decide they were the made for each other friends in the past.

There’s this another saying that I remember “To Err is human, to forgive is Divine.” It’s not as if either of the J’s have been flawless as a person. Everyone has some shortcomings and so do they. As a fan, I need to find the same level of “acceptance” that I do when I’m in the similar situation in real life. As a fan I need to accept that Jared and Jensen too are going to have some issues going ahead in life. Just because they are actors doesn’t mean there won’t be miscommunication or misunderstanding. They’re not perfect. They are bound to make mistakes. Just think that because this was a very public fallout, we came to know about the disagreement, try to think that in past 15 years how many times did the J’s had these disagreements and had to deal with them without telling us? No matter how huge fan you are, no one can ever claim that they now what goes behind the scenes in the celeb’s lives and same goes with J2.

We know what kinda place Hollywood is, and the J2 tinhats already have theories about bearding and stuff, and yet the J’s have remained positive throughout. There must have been contracts and papers and the “powers that be” who are involved in regulating their lives. It’s one of the many countless possibilities. We don’t know many things about their lives (even we’d like to claim otherwise). The information we get is just a 0.01% of what actually is happening. All we do is “assume” on the basis of their SM interaction or the way J2 appear in public. It’s all imagery.

They’ve been a source for inspiration for many. So, a public fallout doesn’t mean we should overlook the past. But we choose to look at it in a way that is suitable to us. Again, there’s nothing wrong with that. If some of us feel like siding with Jared, it’s all good and if some of us feel like siding with Jensen, it’s all good. It’s their personal opinion and no one has the right to judge them or call them out for that.

For me, I’ve come to a conclusion that the secured bubble that I was living in has finally burst and given me a chance to look at things objectively. No matter what happens in future, I’m here to stay as long as I enjoy the fandom. If I let it affect me more than is plausible, perhaps then it’s time for me to rethink about the power I give the Fandom over me. Because it’s my choice. I alone have the choice to either let the negativity affect me or see the positive side. There’s a saying that goes, “You yourself alone are your own enemy and your true friend. The choice is yours.”

If J2 claim to be alright with each other, then I choose to believe them. Reason is simple. Because it helps me find some peace. It helps me cool down my emotions and helps me go back to enjoying the little things in fandom that bring me happiness.

 Don’t get upset with people and solutions because both are powerless without your reactions.

Let the drama continue....

After this, if you fell like unfollowing me, the door is always open.

In the end, whatever happens, happens for good. If it’s meant to be, then I’ll be the happiest and if it’s not, well, it’s beyond my control.

I love them both.

Peace and Love.

- A J2 fan.

[prodigious-ladybug]

wishmaker thoughts

in terms of it being a single installment in the larger narrative of miraculous ladybug, i don’t have a lot of thoughts on wishmaker other than ‘haha cool someone knows both of their identities at the same time wonder where this will go’ bc like. i am unable to separate myself from the idea that i absolutely cannot judge something (in this case, season- and series-long arcs) until i see it in its Entirety, in its Proper Complete State (which i know doesn’t exactly mesh with television as a serialised art form but jhdfghj wtvr thats a whole other discussion) so i don’t, and won’t, really have an opinion on luka knowing their identities until i see what the show does with it

on the other hand, in terms of its own merits as an episode (as in, the parts of the episode that are self-contained and are supposed to have their own story arc within the 20min) wishmaker was probably one of the weaker episodes of the show? alec’s akumatisation practically came out of nowhere - the show usually does a pretty good job of setting up the through lines that lead to a character’s akumatisation right from the start of the ep (you know, like with actual foreshadowing and good writing and shit) but wishmaker felt more concerned with the interactions between luka & adrien & marinette than having the villain feel natural within the story. which is all well and good, like this episode is about those three and should be focused on luka’s relationship with adrien & marinette if it wanted to have the proper impact of luka finding out their identities, but it just seemed like the episode couldn’t balance being both a run of the mill, monster of the week episode and an Event episode at the same time (that being said, i doubt this episode would’ve been enough to hold its own across a two parter so i get how the unbalance arose). instead of throwing alec’s characterisation out of whack they couldve used his early screen time to lead up to his akumatisation more naturally - surely something about being a tv presenter and having to be fake all the time for a living and not staying true to what his younger self wanted or SOMETHING would like. be putting him down in the dumps or smth. idk. that’s just off the top of my head surely the writers could come up with something more substantial. and yeah this might take away some attention from the emotional core of luka, adrien & marinette but it’d at least 1. tie in with the theme of the episode and 2. set some precedent for his negative feelings instead of him getting akumatised in like. ten seconds hgfdfghjk

the only other thing that kinda rubbed me the wrong way was how wishmaker’s power seemed especially contrived, even for this show? like i Know half of the akumatised powers are to either get ladybug and chat noir to kiss (contrived for the sake of romance which is. generally fine in a romance show and also approved by my shipper brain) or reveal their identities (which actually ties into the plot and the villain’s motivations and therefore makes it...not really contrived) so wishmaker being used to reveal their identities is fine. but um. the leap hawkmoth made in how his powers would do that is. wild. it’s like:

reveal people’s childhood wishes

???

reveal lb & cn’s identities

profit

and again, i know hawkmoth has given an endless list of powers to people that make you think ‘what the fuck was he hoping to accomplish with that?? what did he THINK would happen?’ and i’m all for hawkmoth having dumb plans, being soundly beaten and then having to figure out smarter ways to beat lb & cn, but i guess my problem here is that in this episode he was actually proven RIGHT. like he had no guarantee that lb & cn wouldn’t have childhood wishes a la dino man and mr banana, but he really put out this fairly weak akuma with the immediate assumption that it would reveal their identities and like?? if viperion wasn’t there he’d have achieved it! (well, idk abt ladybug, he’d at least probably hit chat noir, which is. an interesting au to think about). the link between revealing childhood wishes and revealing lb & cn’s identities seemed like a massive leap in logic to me (more than this show usually makes), and idk if anyone else felt that when watching the episode but like kjhdfghjk hawkmoth buddy can you explain your thinking for just a second like i’ll accept what you’re doing i just need to know why the fuck you’re doing it and how you got there

but other than that! i really really liked this episode and i was hyped up the entire fucking time!! i had to keep pausing it bc i was getting overwhelmed LMAO. i guess one thing i will say so that this doesn’t seem like a wall of negativity (which i swear i didn’t mean for it to be, there were only two (2) things i didn’t like about the episode that i felt weakened it, it just takes me a billion words to get to my point) is that however they handle luka knowing their identities in future episodes, i fucking loved the way they handled it in this episode. for some background, i’ve honestly never cared much either way abt luka, i have zero negative feelings about him, it’s just that he has the unfortunate case of not being a character type i particularly care abt, and the writing hasn’t done anything much to endear him to me. he’s fine, and i certainly like him more than other characters, but i’m pretty much as neutral on him as you could get. UNTIL THIS EPISODE! okay not really, something abt him agreeing to be friends with marinette in crocoduel made me go ‘:) what a nice boy :)’ BUT! THIS EPISODE! i’m proud to announce i’m officially a luka stan. LYING BALD-FACED TO LADYBUG? KING. LYING TO LADYBUG AFTER THE SEASON OPENER OF HIM GETTING AKUMATISED OVER MARINETTE LYING??? i am SO here for internal character conflicts YES! this is what i WANT! set up a character who has a strict line in the sand and put them in a situation where they’re forced to cross it anyway, and see what happens next!!!! i really would not mind a whole character study on luka after this. like....the fucking intrigue.......why did he lie, and how does he feel about it? does he regret it? does he consider it a necessary evil? i’m sure all of this will be answered in like. a single line from him five episodes down the road bc that’s how this show handles shit like this but. those last few minutes were really just straight bangers i’m still not recovered

well this was. longer than i thought it’d be. and again, i liked this episode a lot, idk what compelled me to write all this out. i usually don’t have a lot of formulated thoughts like this after an episode of ml; i think that it was just bc there were a couple things i could actually critique in the ep that it made it easier to pick apart my feelings. but anyways!

TL;DR wishmaker, in its self contained elements, felt a bit weak as an episode bc 1. alec’s akumatisation was mad rushed and 2. the way his powers were used to further the plot felt contrived to me (yes, even for miraculous). but, in the episode’s over-arching elements within the season/show, i immensely enjoyed it, primarily because of the amount of intrigue it set up in 1. luka’s characterisation and 2. the possibilities emerging from luka knowing lb & cn’s identities

[ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa]

With Cherries On Top

Chapter 2: The Proposal & The Deal

Summary/Author's Notes: Oh.my.god. the response from part one was fucking WILD. I love you guys so so so much! As always, dedicated to @rae-gar-targaryen. She’s had a bad week, yall, go show her some love. <3 ITS WHAT MAX WOULD DO.

Max explains himself and gets down on one knee to ask the big question. Your trust is tested as he tries to pull a fast one, but he makes you an offer you cannot refuse.

Pairing: Max Phillips x Reader (The Proposal AU) Word Count: 3.3k Warnings: Language, flirting, SEXUAL TENSION, Max Phillips is a bastard man, vampire themes

Chapters [1] [MASTERLIST]

Max finally caught up with you and convinced you to go with him to the immigration office. The entire cab ride across town you were seething. Neither of you spoke, and when the cab parked in front of the Federal Plaza building you got out. Glad to leave him to pay for the cab and top it off with slamming the car door in his face. You heard him growl his frustration but didn’t stop as you stormed into the building and he had to jog to keep up.

"Will you slow down?" He snarled and you ignored him.

How could he be this egregiously shameful? You knew Max was cunning. That he would do anything to make the sale, to close a deal, but this--this was a whole other level, even for him.

In hushed tones, in his office, as you threw your items in your purse, he had explained that he was being deported. That the government had caught him in a technicality of his after-life status versus his human one, and although you agreed it seemed to be a petty place to draw the line, his way of kicking you into the fire with him made you not want to help. Did he deserve to be sent back to Romania? Probably not. But forcing you into marriage? Or an even better term for it would be forcing you into fraud. The two of you were breaking the law and he didn’t even have the balls to ask you first.

The immigration office was jammed packed with multiple lines of people waiting for a free attendant and dozens of others waiting in chairs, looking over reading material and playing on their phones. This was going to take forever. Apparently, Max had other plans, as he grabbed your hand and pulled you both to the front of the line. No one stopped him, no one questioned him as you tried to make your face as apologetic as possible to the people already in line that were giving you dirty looks. He asked for the fiancee visa application and the next thing you knew the two of you were being led into a cramped office in the back and looking over the desk at a very stoic, older, government worker.

“Sorry about the wait, folks,” the older man said as he pulled out a file folder filled with papers. “Busy day.”

“Of course, of course,” Max nodded, crossing his ankle over his knee and giving the man his best smile. “We appreciate you meeting with us on such short notice.”

The older man looked Max up and down slowly and smirked--whatever Max was selling, he wasn’t buying and the realization made you want to lean over the chair and vomit on the floor. Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Okay, so, I only have one question for you,” he continued to smirk as he closed your file and steepled his fingers in front of him. “Are you both committing fraud, in order to keep Mr. Phillips here from being deported back to Romania and losing his position as CFO at his company?”

“What!”

“Ridiculous!”

Max and you both scoffed at the same time and shook your heads as you waved your hands in front of you and he rolled his eyes, giving a good-hearted laugh.

“Mr.--” Max looked at the nameplate on the desk as he leaned forward and addressed the man. “Yates. That is an absurd assumption. We are just a couple that want to get married and I assure you, our case will be the easiest one you have all day. So, just tell us what we need to sign and we can get out of your hair.”

You wished more than anything you had the courage to grip Max’s leg and beg him to shut up. His normal bullshit was not going to get either of you any favors with this man and if he didn’t tread carefully, you both were about to be in a world of trouble. You knew you wouldn't last in jail, but Max really wouldn't last in jail. That mouth that never seemed to stop talking would get him stabbed...wait, maybe jail was a good idea after all.

"What makes you think we're lying, Mr. Yates?" You asked, crossing your ankles and moving your legs to the side comfortably.

"A tip that came in this afternoon from a concerned citizen--"

"His name wouldn't happen to be Evan, would it?" Max asked.

"As a matter of fact, it is."

"I knew it. He is nothing more than a very disgruntled employee who is out to get me." Max shook his head and waved it away as if that discredited the tip. "I fired him this morning."

The other man scribbled down a couple of notes and went back to pressing his fingertips together and leaning his elbows on the desk. He heaved a large sigh and suddenly looked very tired.

“Here’s what’s going to happen next, you two. I am going to schedule you an interview for next week. I am going to put you both in separate rooms. I am going to ask you a series of questions that real couples would know all of the answers to.” He said the term ‘real’ in a pointed way and looked directly at you, making your stomach fall to your feet. “And that’s the easy part--”

“Okay, seems fair.” Max started, but Mr. Yates ignored him.

“Then I am going to dig deeper. I’m going to check your phone records, your emails, talk to your friends and family--your coworkers. If anything, and I mean anything, seems out of order or does not match your story, you,” he pointed to Max. “Will be deported to Romania indefinitely. And you, young lady,” he turned and pointed to you. “Will be fined two-hundred and fifty thousand dollars with a minimum five year sentence in federal prison.”

You swallowed so hard it hurt as you felt your vision narrow, your body threatening you with the idea of passing out. You felt like you were sitting inside a vacuum, like a larger entity had sucked all of the air out of the already too small office space.

Prison. It wasn’t enough that you had been at his beck and call for the last five years. If this all went sideways, Max Phillips, in a last act of extreme selfishness was going to get you sent to prison.

“So, that being said, Ms. (y/l/n),” he smiled and crossed his arms as he addressed you. “Do you want to talk to me? Tell me what’s really going on here.”

“What’s really going on--” you started, your heart hammering in your ears so loudly that you were sure Mr. Yates could hear it.

You looked at Max and thoughtp about how you wanted to do this. Could you really throw him under the bus and let them ship him away from his home? Could you match his heartlessness and protect yourself above all else? No. Despite how much he deserved it, that wasn’t how you operated. He had insisted on dragging you into this mess and now it seemed, at least for the time being, you were going to have to play along. He looked at you with those soft, coffee colored eyes, so full of anticipation that you almost groaned. Instead you reached over the arm of his chair and patted his leg.

“What’s really going on is that Max and I are getting married,” you squeezed his knee and saw him give a full body sigh of relief out of the corner of your eye. “We just couldn’t tell anyone.”

“And why not?”

“Because he’s a vampire,” you shrugged. “And we were worried how my family would take it.”

“I see,” Mr. Yates leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms waiting for you to continue.

“And--” you, glanced at Max and back. “Because of the promotion.”

“Promotion?”

“Promotion?”

Both Max and the older man said at the same time and you steeled your resolve and continued.

“Yes, I am in line for a big promotion, and both of us felt if our relationship went public before that it would look unprofessional. Right, honey?” You looked at Max and although you were smiling, your eyes dared him to say otherwise.

“That’s...right, dear.” He nodded, putting his hand over yours on his knee.

Mr. Yates looked at the both of you for what felt like a very long time. You kept your smile even for so long, your cheeks started to ache. The hand you had on Max’s thigh offered a small amount of comfort and you allowed it to ground you, to center your mind as you did your best to look like the definition of truthfulness.

“Well,” he sighed and opened up a filing cabinet and pulled a very large binder full of papers for the two of you. “If that’s the story you’re sticking to. Here are the questions you could be asked, there are about three hundred of them--along with all of the forms that need to be filled out, references we will need, and copies of your identifications. As well as,” he paused and looked pointedly at the both of you. “The marriage certificate.”

“Thank you,” you said quietly as you leaned forward and took the binder from him.

“Have either one of you told your families about this, happy little arrangement?” he asked as he gestured between the two of you.

Max laughed and shook his head. “No, my parents are dead. Only child, too. It’s a real shame.”

Mr. Yates, chuckled dryly, not understanding how such information could be considered funny. “And what about you, Ms. (L/n)? Are all of your relatives dead as well?”

“Mine?” you put a hand to your chest. “No, no, they are alive--”

“We were actually going to tell them the news this weekend,” Max chimed in and you looked at him in surprise. “It’s grandma’s 85th birthday--we thought it would be a nice surprise.”

You stared at him like he had grown a second head. How did he know about your grandmother’s birthday? The idea that Max paid more attention to you than you thought was sitting uneasily in your stomach, but you continued to smile and nodded in agreement.

“We’re flying up to, (y/n)’s parents house.” Max took the binder as you handed it to him.

“And where is that?”

“Alaska.” You said simply, crossing your legs and adjusting the hem of your pencil skirt, reveling in the way Max’s entire face fell.

“Ah-ah-las-kah?" Max stuttered and glared at you. "Alaska." He cleared his throat and repeated.

You returned his intense look of malice with an overly satisfied smile. It felt good to ruffle those feathers, to catch him off guard and see him out of his element.

“Well, I wish you both a safe trip,” Mr. Yates stood up to show you the door and the both of you mirrored him. “I’ll call to schedule your visa interview after what I’m sure will be a lovely week.”

--

Leaving the federal office felt like you were walking in slow motion. You vaguely heard Max put his bluetooth on his ear and take a call, letting his boisterous voice echo in the too loud, too crowded lobby. Going out onto the street and feeling the cool air on your skin didn’t make breathing any easier as you thought about what just happened. In your trance you almost dropped the heavy glass door on Max’s face.

He hung up the call and started talking like everything was just a normal day back at the office, like the two of you hadn’t just been threatened with the American government absolutely ruining your lives.

“Okay, sweetheart,” he said as he put his sunglasses on to protect him against the already very overcast autumn sky. “What’s going to happen is we are going to run up to your parent’s place, act like we’re boyfriend and girlfriend--we can stay in a hotel and that will make it easier to fake. Make sure you use the miles for the tickets--”

“Max…”

“I will pay to have you fly first class, but only, and I mean only if you use the miles. If I don’t get rewards, then we aren’t going.” He pulled his sleeve up slightly and looked at his watch. “Also, please confirm they offer vampire accommodations, because I swear if they put me next to some old hag like last time and I have to smell her O-positive, diabetic, dustiness for six hours--I’m. Going. To. Lose. It.”

“Max--”

He stopped as he realized he had walked quite a ways in front of you and he turned around. “Why aren’t you taking notes?”

Your jaw dropped and you stomped over to him and shoved the binder against his chest with enough force that he stumbled back a step. “I’m sorry! Were you not in that room with me just now? Were you not fucking listening??” You were almost screaming and he looked around quickly before stepping closer and towering over you.

“You look crazy, calm down--”

“Calm down? You have some neve, Max. Some. Fucking. Nerve.” With each word you poked your manicured finger into the middle of his chest, on top of his stupid, yellow tie. He grabbed your wrist to stop you but you yanked out of his grip. “Don’t touch me.”

“Listen,” he took a breath and spoke to you like the ticking time bomb that you were. “You did well back there. That thing about the promotion? That was genius. He really bought that.”

Evan’s words rang back through your head and you took a step back looking at Max. He's never going to promote you. You know that, right? Five years. For five years you had done everything for him. You had done the work of an executive level salesman and made a secretary's salary. And for what? To constantly be missing out on important things in your life? Friends. Family. Dating. You couldn't remember the last time you had actually been on a date with anyone. Everything seemed to revolve around the man in front of you--and you had reached your limit. All of this was asking too much of you.

When you finally spoke, your voice was flat and even. “I meant it. I want that promotion.”

“To what? Evan’s job?” He raised an eyebrow and shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.”

“I’m the one that is facing a two hundred and fifty thousand dollar fine, and jail time--that changes things. I want Evan’s old job and a thirty percent raise.” You crossed your arms and planted your feet as you held his gaze.

Max moved his bottom jaw from one side to the other, a tick you had often seen and come to realize meant he was mulling over his options. “Fifteen.”

“Forty.” You counter offered the wrong way and he gave a hard bark of laughter. “Okay, fine. I’m walking. You’re screwed. Goodbye, Max--have fun in Romania.”

No sooner did you turn around did Max lunge forward and grab you by the upper arm. “Okay! Okay. Fine.”

“Fine?”

He looked at you pointedly and pulled you into the front of his body. His eyes shimmered for a brief moment and his lips turned upward into a small grin. “Unless--you’ll take something else? Plus, ten percent of course, I’m not a monster.”

You felt as if a small breeze was whispering against the nape of your neck, and you fought the urge to bat at it like a fly. The press of his voice worked its way into your ear and you could almost feel it trying to go deeper. When you realized what he was doing, you gasped and slapped him across the face. “Did you just try and hypnotize me??”

“Ah, shit!” he released your arm and put his hand to his cheek. “Did it not work?!”

“Go to hell, Max!” You turned once again and started walking down the sidewalk, ignoring the faces of the people that were nosily watching your heated exchange.

“Why the fuck didn’t it work--” he mumbled, continuing to rub his cheek and coming to his senses once he saw you putting more distance between the two of you. “Hey!” He jogged quickly and passed you easily in your high heels, turning around so he could look you in the eye. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean it. I couldn’t help myself.”

“Typical,” you scoffed and rolled your eyes.

“I can’t do this without you,” he held his hands up defensively and gave you an almost pleading look. “I’ll give you the promotion, and the raise. If I’m not at that company, they will get rid of you like that,” he snapped his fingers and you clenched your jaw. “I don’t want to go back to Romania. I didn’t have such a good trip the last time.” He smiled way too large, an action more for the purpose of pulling back his lips so he could gesture to his fangs. “So, will you do this?”

"I have a few conditions."

"Name them."

"We do this my way, and on my terms. This is my family that we are lying to, so we will tell them when I want, and how I want."

"Done. Next?"

"How did you know it was my grandmother's birthday?"

"You think I can't hear every time your family calls and begs you to quit? Even without superhuman hearing--you sit right next to my office." He made a gesture of his hand pantomiming a small distance.

"Fine."

"Fine." You both said one right after the other in shared stubbornness and mutual disdain. "Anything else?"

You crossed your arms under your breasts slowly and straightened your shoulders. “Ask me nicely.”

“Ask you what? I just--”

“Ask me to marry you.”

Max paused and leaned back a bit, rubbing a hand down his face and chuckling like your request was unbelievable. “Uh. Fine. Fine.” He nodded and cleared his throat. “Will you marry me?”

“Like you mean it,” you insisted. “On your knees.”

He gaped at you like a fish out of water. His large hand rubbed the back of his neck as he looked around embarrassed by the idea that any of the hundreds of people on the street could see what he was about to do. He looked at the ground to make sure there wasn't anything obviously sticky lurking on the pavement before slowly getting down on one knee.

"There. Happy?" He gestured to himself and you nodded.

"Oh, extremely."

He sighed and bit his tongue with what he really wanted to say as he looked up at you from his spot on the ground. "So, will you marry me?"

"I believe I said, ask me nicely. Sales. Is. Seduction. Right, Max?" You clenched your fists and brought them into your chest, mimicking his speech from earlier in a most obnoxious way. "Seduce me, then. Really sell it."

Max blew a heavy sigh in the form of a loud raspberry and cracked his neck. He shook out his arms in a dramatic display like he was getting ready to perform and finally looked up at you. His expression was genuine enough. His eyes were warm and his smile small, and he even took your hand and held it out in front of him lightly.

"Sweetheart--(y/n), beautiful, intelligent, decadent, sexy, vibrant--"

"Enough." You said with a frown. "Remember, I'm a person, not a dessert."

He continued as if you hadn't interrupted his string of praise. "Will you please, with cherries on top, marry me?"

You tapped your chin in mock contemplation and gave a single nod. "Okay. Yes. Although I don't appreciate the sarcasm." You let go of his hand and let it fall to his side as you adjusted your purse on your shoulder. "Get me a ring. If we break the news to my mother and there's no ring, she will go bezerk."

"Fair enough."

"See you at the airport, Max."

You walked passed him without another word, leaving the most powerful man you had ever met on his knees in the middle of the New York street.

--

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[dameaylins]

“nothing but facts” its one thing and its gwynriels always thinking their assumptions are canon and correct. i don’t follow you but u even tagged it as anti gwynriel. you gave your opinion. how many gwynriels shit on elriel, overanalyze & twist canon because they’re insecure and say every elriel monent is a red flag ? and i don’t ever see elriels commenting on that or at least not anymore because it’s pointless. imagine getting this mad because of one person’s opinion on tumblr.com (u did nothing wrong btw)

that's the thing! none of us on either side are confirmed correct because the last books aren't out yet! i feel like, by and large elriels give credit where credit is due and give good faith takes about gw*n; meanwhile you can barely go into the elain or elriel tag without seeing some "evil elain" shit take or some kind of erasure of her character from the narrative in order to suit gw*n. idk, we don't have to villainize gw*n in order to raise up elain. i also don't send hate to the anti-elain blogs for having a different opinion than me asdfgh.

also. like you said, i cannot imagine devoting so much energy into sending angry anons and making a whole ass thread that didn't even successfully debunk my statement. like why is this so important to you? why are you so invested in this?? i would just be happy as long as the final couples are happy and well written, but i know that some of those loud weird gw*nriels would throw fits if elriel happened. its just so weird. do they have no other hobbies to occupy their time that they just sit in the search page snapping at whoever disagrees with them even a little???

anyway, thank you for the validation; i'm more amused than anything. they're just proving the point i had about how unnecessarily antagonistic a good portion of that part of the fanbase is. i fully respect that they have a different opinion than me; i'm making posts not to spite them, but to commiserate with other elriels that are being treated like we're stupid for seeing evidence in the text. yet they can't seem to respect that other people have other opinions than them, even when the posts are clearly tagged with anti.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

The Raven; Let Loose

Part 2 of the 1000+ follower milestone! A continuation of the Raven lore outlined in part 1. I believe I will have a few more parts coming out shortly, just to solidify the Raven and Jade lore—and, I suppose, to make up for the lack of events for previous milestones (600, 700, etc.).

Today, we have the Raven’s introduction to Night Raven College! It’s a bit longer than my usual works, so it will be censored under a cut. Please enjoy~

The raven stares into a full-length looking glass. Whoever stares back at them is practically a stranger.

Who is that girl I see, staring straight back at me?

A short girl with milky skin and long hair as dark as the night, swept over one shoulder, wears a perplexed expression. Their amber eyes appear even sharper than they typically are, no thanks to the smoky shadow that lines the outer corner of their lids. They are dressed in long, black robes edged with an intricate gold pattern--the interior of the robe is violet and dotted with gold.

“You look rather fetching in those coveted ceremonial robes!” chirps a jolly voice. It belongs to a man bearing a crow mask, a top hat, and a dark cape--leaning on a walking stick. He taps a talon under the raven’s chin.

“...Wanna stay home,” they mumble, tugging on their hood. The raven’s words are terse, clumsy, and unpracticed. They are too used to cawing and the sounds of bird speak.

“Excellent orating! Before you know it, you will be speaking human as well as you can write it!” The man in the crow mask declares. 

“But...feels weird, Mister Dire.”

“No, no! I’ve told you before, have I not? Refer to me as your dear old Uncle Crowley!” he insists, waving a hand. “And you are...?”

“Erm...Raven. Raven Crowley,” they mutter, wanting to vanish into their hood. The have practiced the line so many times, but it still does not feel natural rolling off of their tongue. “Uncle’s...niece.”

“Correct!” He gives them a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “You’ll do just fine at the ceremony, my little black bird.”

“Scary...” The raven shivers and pulls their robes tighter around themselves. “I...I don’t want to...”

“Nonsense! You cannot keep roosting in the attic forever, toiling over those accursed storybooks of yours. It would do you some good to socialize--and I shan’t have the little bird I have taken under my wing wasting their life away on quill and ink!” Crowley shakes his head. “The time has come to set this raven loose on NRC.”

The raven stares doubtfully at their reflection.

“Let me give you a piece of advice--because I am so very, very kind. Words have power--but so, too, do actions. You must put yourself out there if you wish to change the course of your story, curse be damned.”

“I’ll...I’ll try.” The raven does not believe their own words.

“Very well. I shall see you at the Mirror Chamber, then.” Crowley turns on his heel and makes his way to the door.

“A-Ah...! P-Please wait for me...” The raven cries out, stumbling after the headmaster on unsteady feet, the fabric of their robes billowing out behind them.

“Oh, my apologies--I neglected to mention that you will be making your way to the chambers without my guidance!” Crowley tosses a mischievous grin over his shoulder. “After all, cuckoos must be pushed out of the nest if they should ever wish to fly. Spread your wings, my little raven--and enjoy your new school life!”

He gives a firm tap on the ground with his walking stick--and he vanishes in...a flash of light.

The raven’s stomach sinks, as though they have swallowed stones for breakfast. Vanishing in a flash of light--that would be their own fate if they did not tread carefully.

They sigh, shoving such ominous thoughts into the back of their mind. First thing’s first: make it to the ceremony in one piece, or else they shall never hear the end of it.

The raven throws open a window, then climbs onto the sill, hoisting themselves up and out. (Why did Crowley use the door? Windows are much more efficient for birds.) They tumble into the bushes.

The bird pops their head out and squints into the sunlight. By the Great Seven, the campus is positively teeming with students, all dressed in the same robes as them. The raven shudders at the thought of approaching any of them for directions.

They tuck their head into the bushes and begin to crawl, covered by the foliage. Unfortunately, the raven does not make it long before their path is blocked.

“Ohoh? What do we have here?”

The raven freezes--for young man with a blonde bob cut and emerald eyes has materialized before them.

“Bonjour--a bit early for a game of cache-cache, is it not?” He’s grinning, taking in the sight of a small bird curled up on the ground. “Ah, but more importantly, what is a lovely mademoiselle such as yourself doing in this den of lions?”

“...What?” The raven quirks an eyebrow at him. They have never heard such...strange, flowery phrases before.

“Ah, excuse moi!” His hands go up in the air. “You must be rather lost and confused, mademoiselle. Perhaps I may be of assistance?”

“N-No...I am okay...!” The raven insists, scrambling to their feet--their extensive vocabulary fails to make itself known in its trembling voice. Human language is...so difficult!

“...Mademoiselle.” The stranger’s eyes narrow, but the easygoing smile remains upon his lips. “That cadence with which you speak—it is reminiscent of the language of birds. Are you, perhaps, an animal given human form?”

Her flabbergasted expression confirms his suspicions. The young man breaks out into boisterous laughter and clapping.

“Fascinante~ I have a vested interest in wild life, you see!” he explains, circling the raven like a shark in the water. “I would like to observe more and more of you!”

“U-Um...I...I need to go...!”

But he has grabbed her arms by the elbows, roughly maneuvering them up and down. Her limbs flop around carelessly.

“Where are your wings, mon petit oiseau?” he asks, furrowing his brows. “Surely you must be capable of advanced transformation magic in order to maintain your human form? Are you able to fly as you currently are? Will you not give me a demonstration?”

The barrage of questions, coupled with being grabbed, sets the bird into a panic.

“S-Stay awaaaaay!!” The raven screeches, wildly thrashing.

They manage to land a hit on the young man’s face, sending him stumbling backwards. The raven sprints as fast as her little legs can carry her, not caring who witnesses it.

“Mon petit oiseau!! Please return to me--I must witness it...! The beauty of your flight!” comes his pleading voice behind them, growing ever louder.

The raven dares to sneak a peak over their shoulder--and screams even louder. He’s dashing right after them at a breakneck pace, closing the distance little by little. His hood has flown off in all of the rush, his golden hair whipping across his face. Perhaps he would have been a prince in some fairy tale, if his eyes were not so feral and pulsating with perverted curiosity.

This is it, this is how I will die.

The raven wills itself to run faster--

--crashing straight into another student.

The raven feels themselves falling back, expecting the harshness of the ground, but instead, they are caught and righted at once.

“Oya, oya. Please, do mind where you are going, miss.”

This student, too, is wearing the ceremonial robes. Oh, and how tall he is. Skin like sea glass, wistful lips, and a handsome face framed by teal hair and a black lock--but his standout feature are his heterochromatic eyes, one verdant green and the other a deep gold, edged in violet makeup.

“Pretty...” the raven remarks, their voice trailing off.

“Pardon?” he quirks an eyebrow at the remark.

“Eyes.”

“Ah. I see--”

“Mon petit oiseau!”

Oh no. 

“P-Please help...!” The raven squeaks, ducking behind the tall student. They jab an accusatory finger at the fast-approaching blonde. “H-He is...he is scary!!”

The student regards them with the tilt of the head. “...I understand. Please, leave this to me.”

“Bonjour, Monsieur Mastermind...!” the blonde greets, having finally caught up. “The little bird you are guarding--kindly relinquish her to me, if you please!”

“Bird? Why, I do believe you are mistaken, Rook-san. She is a human through and through--a human that just so happens to be skilled in Animal Languages.”

“What?” The blonde--Rook?--frowns slightly. “Mon dieu, a human?”

“It is quite rude of you to make assumptions. See to it that you do not repeat such a careless mistake,” the tall student suggests. He smiles, but his tone has a bite to it. “You would not want Vil-san to learn of such a blunder, yes?”

“Ohoh. A fair point, Monsieur Mastermind. Cunning as always, I see.” Rook gives a light laugh and throws his hood up again, casting a shadow upon his face. “Very well, very well, I shall relent for today--my queen is expecting me.”

“I will see you at the ceremony, then?”

“Oui. Give Monsieur Kills for Thrills and Roi de Fort my regards~ And apologies for the trouble, mademoiselle!” Rook waves and disappears into a crowd of robed young men.

At last, the raven can breathe a sigh of relief. “Th-Thank you...erm. Mon...sure Mastermind?”

“Rook-san has a penchant for nicknames.” He chuckles into his hand. “I am Jade--Jade Leech. A pleasure to meet your acquaintance, miss...?”

He glances at them expectantly, with those pretty eyes of his.

“U-Um...Uncle said...to wait until the ceremony for giving names.”

Jade’s eyes shift slightly as he takes in this new information.

“Ah, you must be the unusual student the headmaster warned us of. I presume you must have been on your way to the Mirror Chamber before Rook-san gave chase.”

“Y-Yes. Erm...but I do not know where to go.”

“Fufufu. It just so happens that I am on my way to the Mirror Chamber now. The opening ceremony is to start shortly.” Jade raises a hand, gesturing to the students around them. “All you need do is follow the others, like a school of fish in the ocean. However, if you are still feeling unsafe after your encounter with...Rook-san, I would be more than happy to escort you.”

“I-Is that...really okay?”

“It is no trouble at all.” He offers his hand and a reassuring smile. “It is only natural to lend aid to those in need, yes?”

And the raven, mesmerized by his eyes, accepts his hand--and they merge with the sea of robed students milling to the Mirror Chamber. Standing at the entrance is the headmaster himself, ushering young men in.

Crowley catches the raven’s gaze and beams--though his expression falls just as quickly once he registers who it is that towers over his niece. Jade notices, and releases the raven’s hand.

“...Jade Leech-kun.”

“Headmaster. Good day to you,” he greets with a small bow.

“Hmm.” Crowley’s beady yellow eyes stare right into Jade. “Thank you for delivering her to me. Now then--shoo. Join the remainder of Octavinelle.”

“As you wish.” Jade gives a small, polite wave before he heads inside.

The raven waves back shyly. Crowley tsks and whisks them away behind his feathered cloak. He mutters something under his breath about being too kind.

Within the Mirror Chamber, a certain octopus scolds Jade.

“Where have you been? It’s not like you to be nearly tardy.” Azul frowns, hands planted on his hips.

“Ehehehe~ Even I made it here before Jade today,” Floyd laughs, gnashing his teeth.

“My apologies. I was preoccupied with...networking,” Jade says with a slight bow.

“Well, it had better have been worth it,” Azul mutters under his breath. “We’ll need to be in the headmaster’s good graces if we wish to expand the Mostro Lou—“

“Ah-HEM! If I may have your attention please, everyone,” Crowley calls from the front of the Mirror Chamber.

Azul immediately snaps in attention—and Jade follows his gaze. Floyd, meanwhile, groans and rolls his eyes. Lame old crow.

“We have a special little guest joining us at Night Raven College starting this year! They are quite far from our usual demographic, so I ask that you be so very, very kind to them.” Crowley nods to the hooded figure hiding behind him. “Go on, then. Introduce yourself, my dear!”

He steps aside, exposing them to thousands of pairs of eyes. The raven shrinks back. Crowley sighs and gives them a slight nudge forward.

“A-Ah...u-um...I am...R-Raven. Raven Crowley. Uncle’s niece. P-Please...take good care of me.”

Murmurs fill the room. Some students are expressing shock that the headmaster even has relatives, others are questioning the enrollment of a female student at an all-boys school.

“Oya?” A chuckle escapes from Jade’s lips. He leans over and whispers to his dorm leader. “Azul, that is the one.”

“Is that so? Mm, this is highly unusual,” Azul notes, tucking a hand under his chin. “But...if she is related to Crowley-sensei, it would behoove us to charm her. She can put in a good word to the headmaster for Octavinelle.”

“Yes, she will be of great use to us in the future,” Jade agrees, his smile twisting into something...demented, jagged teeth on full display. “Then, shall I do the honors?”

“You really do think of everything, Jade. By all means, be my guest. See to it that the little bird is...fond of us, of you. Either works.”

“Fufufu. But of course--I live to serve.”

“Well, I’m bored and hungry” Floyd complains, interrupting the two. He slings his arms around his brother and Azul. “Let’s grab some grub after this booooring ceremony...!”

[prettywordsyouleft]

Ulterior Motive

Pairing: Ji Changmin (Q) x reader

Genre: friends to lovers au / fluff

Warnings: none

Word count: 1609

A/N: Happy birthday Em @soybeantree​!! I hope you’ve had a fantastic day! I hope this story makes your birthday just that little bit more special! It’s my first time writing Changmin, and I had so much fun doing so! 

“No way.”

“Just one!” Changmin begged, holding up his index finger near his face as he smiled encouragingly.

You laughed, shaking your head in response. “Oh, it is so not happening, Min.”

“Why not?! I have watched every movie you’ve wanted to even if its-” Changmin cut short with the stern look you gave him and laughed breathily. “And it’s been fun. Can’t you just give me one movie that I want to watch in return?”

“Me and a horror movie is not happening. We’ve been friends forever so I shouldn’t have to tell you why.”

“Your cousin was an asshole for locking you in that room and taking the remote away so you couldn’t turn it off. I beat him up royally, remember? But we’re adults now and it’s just one movie. Besides, I’ll be there the entire time,” Changmin replied and you sighed heavily, giving him a curious once over.

Normally Changmin would never be this persistent over you and horror movies. He had learned a long time ago that you didn’t watch them. You weren’t interested in the new paranormal movies or the gory kind of pastimes. You didn’t care for zombies either. Whatever the frightful content, you were fine with him watching them alone or going with a friend to see it. You didn’t knock Changmin for liking them, much like he never complained that you were a rom-com or periodic drama kind of person.

Well, usually.

Huffing a little, you squinted at the man. Changmin seemed agitated which concerned you. Why was today the day you had to watch a horror movie with him? Was there something he was planning? It didn’t bode well with you, given the context, and you folded your arms over your chest. “I can’t.”

“You can,” he corrected, reaching out to rub your shoulders. “I picked a tame one.”

“Tame? You mean, nightmare-inducing. I will have to hide behind a cushion and sleep with the lights on afterwards. Is that what you want?!”

His grin seemed to support this and you reached out to slap his arm and hiss at him. Changmin shook his head. “Y/N, I would never let you suffer.”

“So let me off the hook.”

“Just half a movie!” he offered and you groaned.

“Fine! Fine! What will you do if I have nightmares?!”

“You won’t,” he assured with a satisfied grin, directing you over to the couch in your apartment and setting up the movie. You looked at all your favourite snack foods on the table and then back at Changmin, smirking at him lightly.

He sure was going the extra mile with this.

Still, you weren’t exactly comfortable with the idea of watching a horror movie and it wasn’t even twenty minutes into it that you dove into Changmin’s side, burying into his chest as you flinched with fear.

Your friend’s arms were around you immediately and it felt entirely protective and warm. Although Changmin was always the type to loosely maintain some sort of skin contact with you, it wasn’t very often that you found yourself this pressed into him. You blinked slowly, focusing on the changes to his body. He was definitely working out at the gym more than you realised and you chewed on your lip as your hand relaxed against his abdomen. You remained hidden even after the scene was over, hoping the flare of colour to your cheeks would ease off and you could sit back up. The last thing on your mind now was the movie.

Jarringly, you managed to pull yourself away from Changmin’s safety a few minutes later, picking up a cushion from beside you instead. You used that to hide behind with a couple more of the jump scare moments, trying not to throw yourself back into his arms.

However, Changmin scooted closer, slinging his arm over the back of the couch to draw you into his side. “Use me.”

“Why?”

“Huh?” he breathed distractedly, blinking a few times before sheepishly grinning. “I’m able to comfort you more than a cushion. Besides, I promised you no nightmares.”

It dawned on you then that when watching a horror Changmin would be vocal about some scenes. He would laugh at most of the scarier parts as it was basically like a comedy for him, so all your mutual friends had expressed whenever they watched one with him. However, he had remained silent this whole time and at first, you thought it was for your sake.

Slowly, you added things up and smiled behind the cushion. Deciding to put your assumption into practice at the next scary moment, you threw the pillow dramatically and dove into his arms, feeling his heart thudding in his chest against your ear at how close you were now. There was no reason for him to be this reactive to the scene, and so you let out a triumphant laugh and snapped up to look at him.

“You sneak!”

“What?”

“Where is it?” you wondered, looking around the dimly lit room for evidence.

Changmin cleared his throat. “Where is what? Y/N, you’re acting strange.”

“I could say the same to you, Changmin! You didn’t want me to watch a movie just for the sake of it. I’m sure you’re trying to film my reactions!”

“What?” he asked, shaking his head. “No.”

“Then why-”

“I wanted this,” he blurted out, gesturing with his head to your close proximity. He grew hesitant, shy even and your eyes widened, watching him with high interest.

It wasn’t every day Changmin would show his vulnerable side so openly like this.

“T-this?” you stammered, looking at the way you were in his arms. More of your body was pressed against him than before and you blinked with confusion. “You mean, you wanted me in your arms like this?”

Changmin nodded, biting his lip adorably in the process.

“Why?”

“Because you’re so dense towards my affection! You friend-zoned me years ago and I’ve had a really bad week so I wanted you to need me like this just once in my life.”

“You made me watch a horror movie with you just because you wanted to cuddle?!”

“You make it sound so ridiculous,” he objected and you cocked your head to the side. “Which it is but humour me this once, Y/N.”

“And then what happens?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you said I friend-zoned you,” you explained, giving him a hard look. “Do I snuggle with you now and then put you back there?”

Changmin’s head dropped and he sighed. “I guess.”

“That sounds miserable.”

“Well, I’m not miserable right now,” he announced, holding you more closely.

You allowed him to do so, nestling your head against his chest comfortably. His hand mindlessly ran up and down your back and you shivered against it, enjoying the moment almost as much as he evidently was. You could tell the protagonist in the movie was having a hard time behind you and you didn’t even care, relaxing into Changmin’s embrace further. You were now all but within his lap, curled up completely against your friend.

And when you felt his embrace around you start to ease off after an immeasurable moment, you gripped onto Changmin tightly. “I never friend-zoned you.”

He laughed. “Oh yes you did.”

“I really didn’t,” you chimed back and Changmin pulled away to gauge your expression. Your cheeks were flushed from enjoying the comfort he was giving you but you were genuinely staring at him with adoration. And then you groaned and rolled your eyes. “You’re so silly.”

“Me?!”

“If you wanted my comfort, you should have just asked. We could have saved the horror movie being put on!”

“Hardly, you’d be suspicious of why.”

“I was suspicious of you earlier. Did you think that me leaping in your arms would satisfy you?” His immediate reaction confirmed your question and you laughed, nudging him playfully with your nose. “So silly.”

“Then tell me straight. Am I friend-zoned?”

“You’re my friend,” you started and his face fell. Cupping his cheeks within your hands, you grinned. “But I’ve always wished you were more than that.”

“You… but… really?”

You nodded. “Really.”

“So I can hold you whenever?”

“So long as you don’t go holding Kevin or Sunwoo like this too,” you agreed with a giggle and Changmin joined you.

The laughter soon eased off and you stared at each other intently. Changmin smiled slowly. “I’ve liked you for too long, Y/N.”

“Probably not as long as me.”

He rolled his eyes. “Let me have my moment.”

“Why, does it feel like a dream?” Changmin nodded and you grinned. “Well in my dreams, I’m always bold, so…” You pressed your lips to his then, kissing him slowly. He met your approach with added hunger, hands reaching for your waist and pulling you into his lap. Your kiss deepened as you reached to sling your arms over his shoulders, smiling against his lips before you pulled back.

“I don’t want to wake up,” he breathed and you nuzzled his nose with your own again.

“Then don’t.”

A second kiss happened and then a third and by the time you were both more than addicted to the taste of each other, the movie had finished, the credits now rolling on the screen.

You laughed and pointed at it. “Hey look! I lasted through an entire horror movie!”

“We didn’t really watch it, so it doesn’t count.”

“So? Technically I watched a horror movie with you tonight. And you were right about something.”

“What?”

Smiling giddily at Changmin, you lowered your mouth to just above his. “I won’t be having any nightmares tonight.”

_________________

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[quicksilversquared]

Of Growing and Miraculous Pranks

Ladybug has always been shorter than Chat Noir, and even though Marinette has grown- well, the height gap between them just keeps getting bigger. She hadn't given it any thought- well, much thought, at least- until things started not quite lining up properly.

Or: Marinette grows. Ladybug doesn't.

links in the reblog

Marinette had been Ladybug for four years, three months, and fifteen days when she started realizing that- well, that something a bit strange was going on.

Everything started when she caught wind of the- apparently quite common- perception that Ladybug wasn't a teenager as a lot of people had originally thought, but actually an adult. For some reason, though, people still saw Chat Noir as a teenager instead of assuming the same thing about him.

"I don't know why people would think that, Tikki," Marinette told her kwami that afternoon, after she had made her excuses with Alya and headed home from their group outing a little early to get a bit of homework done. "I mean, when we started out- well, it was pretty obvious that we weren't experienced, and that we were learning a lot, and then there was that stupid textbook, too, plus I was really short then. So maybe I wasn't happy that people had figured out that I'm a teenager, but it at least that assumption made sense!"

Tikki giggled. "Maybe it's the Miraculous magic that's interfering?" she suggested, the impish look on her face suggesting that she knew exactly what was going on but she wasn't going to tell. "At any rate, that's a good thing, right? People aren't thinking about someone your age when they try to figure out Ladybug's identity!"

"Ugh, I don't know," Marinette muttered, making a mental note to maybe look into the subject more later on. She honestly didn't keep up with the news about her and her partner much anymore- she had better things to do with her time, both in her normal life (unfortunately, superheroes still had homework and babysitting and commission deadlines) and the superhero one. That was why the whole we think Ladybug is actually an adult! had taken her by such surprise. "I mean, I guess, but does it really matter that much what the public thinks if Hawkmoth knows that the timers are a sign of a Miraculous holder not being an adult yet? It might throw Alya off of my trail a bit more, but- well, I've already done that, when I used the Fox to create a Mirage of Ladybug rescuing Marinette!"

Tikki giggled some more. "More confusion around your identities is always a good thing! Even if it's just one of the city's superhero reporters that doesn't think that it's possible for you to be the same person."

"Yeah, I guess." Marinette thought about it for another minute, then shrugged and pushed the thought away. She was far too busy to waste time wondering about inaccurate speculation and gossip about her superhero self. It wasn't as though it was doing anyone any harm, anyway. "I'll figure it out later. Tikki, can you pass me my Literature notebook? I want to finish all of this week's readings today. Then maybe I'll have enough time later in the week to tailor a couple of my outfits so that they fit me better."

"Okay, Marinette!"

"Ugh, Chat Noir, can you stop growing?"

Up ahead of her, Chat Noir snickered, shoving his hair back out of his face as he flashed a devilish look back at her. "Jealous, Bug? It's not my fault that I've actually grown and you- have you shrunk, maybe?"

"Ugh," Ladybug grumbled again, pushing herself forward as they raced across town towards a reported akuma. That was totally unfair. She had grown, surpassing her mom and keeping up with all of her friends. Maybe she wasn't the tallest out of them, but it wasn't as though she was dwarfed by Adrien and Nino or anything. Adrien was the tallest of her friends, even, and she came up to just around his nose, but with Chat Noir?

With his latest growth spurt, Ladybug would be lucky if the top of her head even managed to reach his shoulders. Her partner delighted in his towering height, making a big deal about teasing her about being able to reach things without jumping, or swinging herself up.

Not that it was exactly a big deal if she had to do that, of course. It wasn't hard. Besides, being small had its advantages! There was less surface area to get grabbed or hit by akumas, it was easier to wedge herself into hiding spots, she could slip into small spaces far more easily than her gangly partner...

...but still. It was the principle of the thing. She didn't exactly want to look like a child next to her ridiculously towering partner. Maybe the city had decided that she was actually the adult out of the two for some strange reason, but it would be nice to actually look the part.

(Her one condolence was that there were short adults, ones even shorter than her. She would have been super grumpy if she had stopped growing at her mom's height, since- well, Ladybug was pretty certain that no one would have taken her very seriously if even some école élémentair students towered over her.)

"My Lady?" Chat Noir asked after several minutes of running had passed. He had slowed down, Ladybug noted in the back of her mind, and she had subconsciously matched him. "You're quieter than usual. I don't actually think that you've shrunk!"

Ladybug had to laugh at that. "I know, kitty-cat. And I have grown, I swear! Just- just not to ridiculous-person heights," she added with a sniff, turning up her nose. "It's completely unnecessary."

Chat Noir snickered at that, his ears perking back up as his worry clearly dissipated. "Unnecessary? Do you want to know how useful that unnecessary height is in my civilian life? Why, just the other day, my friend's mom asked me to grab something from a high shelf so that she didn't have to get out the stepstool, and she called me a very helpful young man when I did!"

"I've heard that tall people have a higher risk of blood clots and cancer," Ladybug parried, hoping that she was actually remembering her reading for health class correctly. "And heart issues. I'd rather have to pull out a stool than have heart issues."

Chat Noir practically fell over as he laughed even harder. "I think you're making stuff up and evading! Cancer, really?"

"Am not!" Ladybug insisted, even though she was totally evading Chat Noir's point. Adrien had done something similar for her mom earlier in the week (and had been rewarded with a cookie, which he had been far too happy about), and Marinette had been thankful for his height and extra reach then. He helped her and Alya all the time with reaching books in the library, too, when there was something that they couldn't quite reach. It didn't happen often, necessarily- neither of the two girls were really short, just normal sized thank-you-very-much- but sometimes a book was just barely out of reach and it wouldn't be a good idea to try to pull it down because it could slip out of her grasp and hit her head and then knock her out and then she would get a concussion and fail her exams and-

Well. Anyway. It was probably a better idea to either ask for help or grab a stool instead of risking injury to herself or damage to the book.

"I hope you know that I'm looking that up when I get home," Chat Noir informed her. Then he snuck another glance at her, slowing down a touch more. At this rate, civilians were going to start complaining about the superheroes taking forever to get there.

Ladybug quirked an eyebrow at him. "What, kitty-cat?"

"You know, if your height bugs you that much, my Lady, Plagg told me that our transformations- well, they can be whatever we want," Chat Noir told her, his voice going quiet so that no one would overhear him. "And, if we really wanted to, it can change, like, physical features. Like height."

Ladybug blinked at him, and then her partner's suggestion sunk in and she scowled. "I'm not going to cheat and magic myself taller, Chat Noir!"

"It was just a suggestion, in case the height stuff was really bothering you!" Chat Noir yelped, backpedaling quickly. "In case you didn't know about that bit but might be interested! I wasn't saying that you should or anything! Just that it was something you could consider. If you wanted to."

"I wouldn't consider it," Ladybug told him tartly. "What would be the point?"

(That was a lie. She totally considered it.)

(Just for a moment, though. Really.)

Marinette scowled as she shot out of yet another hiding spot that had been invaded by other students and made (another) dash for it, pushing herself to run as fast as she could. She could hear the akuma drawing closer, and she really had to transform before the akuma tore into the area and zapped her up alongside all of the other civilians in the street.

Ugh. Why couldn't people find their own hiding spots and leave hers alone? Everyone knew by now that the more people that were hidden in a spot, the more likely it was that the akuma of the day would find them.

"Marinette! Hold tight!"

"What-" Marinette started, startled, before she was scooped up my a pair of familiar arms. A second later, she and her rescuer were up on the rooftops and positively flying across the city, the streets a blur below.

Aha. It was Chat Noir.

It had been a few years since she had really interacted with her partner as a civilian, Marinette realized as she clung to Chat Noir's shoulders. There hadn't really been any akumas targeting her, not since Lila had been sent packing in disgrace, and the agility and strength that she had gotten from battles as a superhero helped her get out of the way before she could get in much danger- well, most of the time, at least. There hadn't been any more akumas wanting to go out on dates with her, either, or awkward encounters leading to more-awkward brunches with her parents. So it was honestly a little surprising that he remembered her name, all things considered, and even more surprising that he would go out of his way to rescue her specifically.

Not that it wasn't appreciated, of course, because it very much was. But it was still surprising.

"That akuma doesn't look like one to mess around with," Chat Noir puffed in her ear as he launched them across a street. "And I'm pretty certain that I saw Hawkmoth and Mayura out and about, too. So this battle is going to be super fun."

"Can you drop me off at my house?" Marinette asked right away They were headed in that direction anyway, she could tell, and if her partner was right- and he often was- about the supervillains being out, then she would need to grab a few Miraculous for backups before going out. "I can stay there, it should be far enough away from the akuma. You remember, at the bakery?"

"Got it, Princess!" Chat Noir's trajectory didn't change, which- well, which suggested that he had been headed for the bakery anyway. He adjusted his grip and sped up when a loud bang behind them signaled that some building had been pretty well destroyed. "Hold tight!"

It didn't take long at all for them to reach the bakery. Chat Noir landed lightly on her balcony, neatly avoiding all of the chairs and the table that she and the other girls had left out after their most recent tea party. "Here you go!"

"Thank you," Marinette told him, loosening her legs from around his waist and dropping lightly to the ground before reaching forward to give him a hug. "The save is greatly appre-"

She stopped. Paused. Because instead of her head just barely reaching his shoulders, like she was used to as Ladybug, her head came up to his nose. Somehow, the height difference had shrunk by a head.

What.

"Is something wrong, Marinette?" Chat Noir asked after a second had passed. He sounded confused.

Marinette shook her head hastily,. "No, it's, uh- I just thought you were taller! Because Ladybug is so much shorter in all of your pictures, you know?" she added hastily, trying to cover her slip. "So, uh..."

Chat Noir laughed at that. "Yeah, she's a tiny bug, isn't she?" he asked, his tone entirely fond. "But what she lacks in height, she more than makes up for in spirit and spitfire. And if people underestimate her because of her size- well, that just makes our job a bit easier, right? The akuma thinks it doesn't need to try its hardest to win, and we stroll up and hand them their ass on a platter."

"Right," Marinette managed, just barely keeping herself from frowning. She was Ladybug! Why was Chat Noir talking as though she was so much taller than her alter ego?

"I never tell her how endearing that is, because I worry that she might feel like I'm patronizing her, but it's really just like- well, she's one heck of a firecracker in a small package." Chat Noir grinned at her. "Small but packs far more of a punch than anyone would expect. And I should really get back so that she doesn't end up facing the akuma on her own," he added quickly, stepping back and giving her a wave. "Stay safe, Marinette!"

Marinette waved, waiting for Chat Noir to launch himself into the air before diving into her room and digging for the Miraculous box. She pulled out four Miraculous- three to definitely use, and a bonus just in case- and then called for Tikki.

She would have to mull over the strange height disparity later. Right now, duty called.

The weirdness only continued. Now that Ladybug was aware that there was something off, it seemed as though she just couldn't stop noticing other things that seemed didn't seem quite right. The most recent Odd Thing, as she had decided to dub it, was when Ladybug had escorted many of her classmates- including Nino, Alya, and Adrien- to safety, since there was an akuma rampaging through the building that they were visiting on their field trip, and of course she didn't want them hurt. It hadn't taken much to get people to evacuate, and now she was taking a quick breather before plunging back into the fight.

And in the seconds that made up that breather, Ladybug had noticed that her friends seemed a lot taller than normal. But how could they be taller?

Something really, really weird was going on, that was for sure. Adrien was as tall as Chat Noir it seemed, with her head only reaching his shoulders, and Nino and Alya seemed to have shot up as well. She had to wonder if maybe her perception of her friends' heights was just off somehow- she had been wearing (low) heels to school sometimes, maybe that was it- but there hadn't been much time to think about it then. The akuma was raging ever closer, and an evacuation to a safe zone did no good if the akuma was allowed to reach the safe zone again.

So once again, Ladybug didn't allow herself time to think about how plausible her explanation was. She flung herself into the fight, and by the time it ended, the only concern on Marinette's mind was thinking up an explanation for her being gone for the entire battle.

Then she saw Chat Noir as her civilian self again, followed by Ladybug making the time to do a one-on-one interview with Alya. Ladybug had to save Adrien from an overeager fan who had been akumatized. Every time, something just seemed off, but- well, she never really had the time to give it any thought.

The last straw finally came when Marinette was browsing the Ladyblog for the first time in- well, ages.

A reduced amount of homework had coincided with both a break in commissions and an unusually low number of akuma attacks, so she had decided to take advantage of the break to catch up on some much-needed rest and to catch up with what was being said about her on the Ladyblog.

And on the blog, there- well, there was a photo. A series of photos, really, in a very lovely article posted on the most recent Heroes Day and pinned to the top of the page. It was a reflection on the years of akumas and all that the superheroes had done for the city, with pictures from the most recent Heroes Day celebration along with photos from past celebrations. Ladybug and Chat Noir were in all of the photos, of course, with a rotating cast of secondary heroes behind them. Each year, it was obvious that Chat Noir was growing taller, catching up to the Mayor's height easily, a boy's silhouette turning into a man's. Next to him...

Marinette compared the pictures once, twice, three times. No, it wasn't just her imagination. Chat Noir grew taller and filled out with lean muscle, but next to him- well, Ladybug looked like she might as well have been copy-pasted from year to year. And in one of the last photos...

"My arms aren't that twiggy, are they?" Marinette demanded, shrugging off her hoodie to get a better look at herself. Just like she had thought- her arms were like a gymnast's, hardly bulky but clearly strong with lean, practiced muscles, just like the rest of her. Marinette had had to awkwardly wave off comments about her muscles before- after all, no one just got the physique of a professional gymnast without putting in some work- so she knew that her muscles were there and noticeable. And yet, in that photo...

Maybe it was just a bad angle?

No. No, she wasn't just going to accept that and move on. Marinette had been noticing things that were off between her normal self and her alter-ego for a while now, and she had always waved them off as coincidences or her misremembering things. But not anymore. She refused.

Today, Marinette was going to figure out what was going on.

Snatching up a book and a stray piece of chalk, Marinette stalked over to a blank section of wall. Facing the wall, she placed the book on her head, flat and level. Once she was satisfied with how flat it was, Marinette swiped a short line of chalk under the book, marking her Marinette height. Then she called on Tikki, who-

Well, who had apparently been napping before Marinette abruptly transformed. Whoops.

She's apologize later with a cookie. Tikki could never stay that upset for long.

With a small wince, Ladybug turned back to the wall, taking a step to the side so that she wouldn't be right on top of her previous mark before lining the book up again and making another mark. She stepped back, fully expecting the marks to be side-by-side and the whole looking like she didn't grow at all thing to be all in her head-

-but that wasn't the case.

"What the heck," Ladybug muttered, looking from one mark to the other. The Ladybug mark was significantly lower. She had probably been that height when she started being Ladybug over four years ago.

What was going on?

"No wonder I always look fourteen at most in the photos!" Ladybug exclaimed, glancing towards the mirror this time. From this angle, she could confirm that her superhero build looked just the same as it had at the start. "I'm stuck in my old form! Spots off!"

Tikki spiraled free and- oh, the little sprite was clearly muffling giggles. Marinette narrowed her eyes at her kwami. "Do you want to explain why my superhero self is an entire head shorter than my- well, my normal self?"

"It's not all my fault!" Tikki objected, clearly still swallowing her mirth. "You had a pretty specific picture of what Ladybug looked like after your first few transformation, so I- er, the magic- just assumed that you just wanted to keep your exact same transformation."

"Uh-huh." Marinette gave Tikki an unimpressed look. "And the magic just assumed that my 'very specific' image of Ladybug went all the way down to the exact measurements I had when I started? And that my 'image of Ladybug' wouldn't account for me growing?"

Tikki fell silent. Her eyes darted back and forth as she battled with keeping her smile hidden. Marinette waited, her arms crossed. And then Tikki cracked.

"Okay, fine, I might have fiddled with things a little bit," Tikki admitted, zipping backwards out of Marinette's reach. "I've done it before with other holders, to see how long it takes for them to notice, and it's always so funny when they do!"

"Ha ha," Marinette said dryly. She peered at Tikki. "So how fast did I notice, compared to your other holders?"

Tikki giggled. "You aren't going to like it."

Marinette groaned. "I did that badly, huh?"

"To be fair, you've been incredibly busy," Tikki assured her hastily. "You have school, and commissions, and babysitting, and putting together your portfolio, and doing long-distance studies with the Order of the Guardians, and akuma battles. You had more important things to worry about than if your superhero self had been growing at the same rate as your civilian self!"

Marinette remained less than convinced.

"Besides, it was helpful, wasn't it?" Tikki added hopefully. "It's easier to hide when you're smaller!"

The groan Marinette gave was Tikki's only answer.

A few minutes ticked by as Marinette contemplated what to do next. Her knee-jerk reaction was to ask Tikki to adjust the Ladybug transformation to grow with her right away, because she should have been growing alongside Chat Noir, and he had been teasing her about her height for ages. But a sudden jump in growth would no doubt attract attention from the press, along with unwanted speculation. If the public thought that she was an adult now- even if Hawkmoth wouldn't be fooled- then that could help keep her own identity secret from reporters and other curious people.

But on the other hand, Marinette wasn't very interested in keeping her superhero self short and spindly. Maybe it was just vanity, but she had worked hard during those akuma battles and earned those muscles. She had grown up, but the way she looked didn't reflect that at all. And she wanted it to.

(Well. Somewhat. She didn't get many comments on her figure- that she knew of, anyway- and she wasn't exactly interested in starting. Keeping a thirteen-year-old's body in that regard might be helpful.)

She didn't have to make a decision right away, Marinette decided after another minute's thought. There would be no harm in keeping her current transformation for a few more days while she figured out how much to change and how fast to change it.

After all, Ladybug had looked the exact same for years.

"What's new?" Chat Noir asked cheerfully as he landed next to Ladybug on a darkened rooftop. There were two separate contests going on in the city that evening, so the two of them had opted to call a patrol rather than just sit around waiting for an akuma to show up. "Anything interesting?"

"My kwami's been shrinking me."

Chat Noir blinked. Once. Twice. "Pardon?"

"I've been noticing some weird stuff going on," Ladybug explained, glancing across the city to make sure that there weren't any disturbances yet before turning back to her partner. "People I know in my civilian life who seem a lot taller when I'm transformed, mostly. And then I saw the photos on the Ladyblog with past Heroes Days- and I didn't look like I had grown at all, even though I have! So I marked my height on my wall, and I'm a whole head taller as my civilian self! Apparently Tikki was playing a prank on me."

Chat Noir blinked again, then sniggered. "That's hilarious!"

"It is not!" Ladybug protested. "I could have been growing all this time, so I wouldn't always look so short next to you! And how am I supposed to change to match what I should look like now without people thinking that I'm magicking myself to look different?" She spread her hands, gesturing at an invisible headline. "I can see the headlines now- 'Ladybug padding her suit?'. No thank you!"

Chat Noir choked, and it took Ladybug a moment to figure out where his brain had gone. Scowling, she tossed her yo-yo at him in gentle reprimand. "Not like that!"

"I- I'm sorry, what else was I supposed to think about?" Chat Noir managed, still sounding a bit choked. "There's not exactly a lot of things that people normally stuff!"

"Get your mind out of the gutter! I meant, like, muscle-wise." Ladybug tapped her biceps, still as bony-thin as they had been when she first started being a superhero. "I've gotten a fair bit of muscle from swinging all over Paris, but Tikki decided to hide that as part of her prank, too."

Chat Noir's shoulders relaxed. "Oh, okay. Gotcha."

"Though I do suppose that the tabloids would focus more on those other areas if I adjusted everything to match my build now," Ladybug mused, and was amused to see her partner promptly choke and turn red, clearly scandalized.

"Ladybug!"

Ladybug finally cracked and laughed, elbowing her partner "You should have seen your face! That was great!"

Chat Noir pouted, muttering something under his breath. Ladybug was pretty sure she heard the word meanie amongst the muttering, which only made her laugh harder. He stuck his lip out further in an even more dramatic pout, and she practically folded onto the rooftops, completely breathless.

She couldn't help it. His face.

Chat Noir made the best expressions.

"Ha, ha, very funny," Chat Noir grumbled, flopping down to sit next to her. "You are destroying my image of you, I hope you know that."

"I'm sure you'll survive." Finally getting her wheezing under control, Ladybug pushed herself back up to a sit. "I just couldn't resist."

They sat in silence for a minute, eyes scanning the city and listening intently for anything out of place. Finally Chat Noir spoke up again. "So what are you going to do about your transformation? Anything?"

Ladybug let out a long breath. "I keep asking myself that. Because, like, it's really good for hiding my identity, since I'm not at all the same height. But I worked hard for that muscle, darn it! Is it so wrong of me to actually want for it to show? Or to want to actually look like I've grown up at all?" She let out a long sigh. "I've been thinking about it and I for sure want to actually look like I have muscles, and I'll have to add that gradually. I just don't know about everything else."

Chat Noir hummed. "Well, maybe you can add some height but not all? Then it's still a bit of a disparity to throw off people who might be looking," he added. "And then once Hawkmoth is gone, go through a bit more of a growth spurt, since you won't have to transform during the day so often and people in your civilian life won't be wondering where you're vanishing off to all of the time."

"As if I really needed any more motivation to defeat Hawkmoth," Ladybug said with a laugh, but Chat Noir had a point. "That does sound reasonable, though. And if people notice me getting taller, then they might think that it's a clue, that they should be looking for girls who went through really late growth spurts."

Her partner grinned. "Exactly! I would be tempted to do the same, because that's a fantastic way to throw everyone off, but I think you might actually kill me if you started "growing" only for me to magic myself taller."

Ladybug's sharp nod made them both laugh.

"I've been thinking about doing a costume upgrade, too," Ladybug added once they had both calmed. She shrugged at Chat Noir's disbelieving look. "What? It's been years, and I have the world's most basic design, just because I panicked and blanked when I transformed the first time. And it would give the reporters something else to talk about other than 'did Ladybug suddenly get muscles?'"

"Well, if you decide you want to do that and want some help coming up with a new design, I have a friend in my civilian life who's a fantastic designer," Chat Noir told her, a fond grin spreading across his face. "I bet that she would be able to come up with some pretty great ideas."

"I think I can come up with my own ideas, thanks," Ladybug told him, and then scowled when a doubtful look flashed across his face. "Just I panicked once when I was thirteen and didn't think about what I wanted my transformation to look like doesn't mean that I can't think of good designs, Chat Noir!"

"Okay, okay, I believe you!" Chat Noir said with a laugh, holding his hands up in mock defense. Ladybug playfully pummeled them, and soon enough they were wrestling across the rooftops, Tikki's prank all but forgotten for the time being.

(Well. At least until the night's akuma showed up and laughed at Ladybug's diminutive height, that was.)

Ladybug's new outfit debuted a week later, black sections breaking up the red and black polka dots and a short open-front skirt- long enough to be decorative and look nice, short enough that it would be difficult for it to snag or have akumas grab on, so at least it wouldn't be impractical- a striking contrast to the simple onesie pattern that she had worn before. It made headlines, reporters and bloggers all too happy to talk about the changed design and how nice it looked and how well it suited Ladybug.

In fact, everyone was so caught up in the new design that it was three full months before the first person noticed and commented on the other new changes in Ladybug's appearance, both her apparent growth and the new muscles visible in her arms and along her legs. The internet promptly exploded with theories about it, wondering if the new costume was making illusions or if the changes were real. Doctors and fitness experts chimed in, adding their voices to the fray.

At home, Marinette just smiled as she turned away from the theories on the Ladyblog and back towards her latest commission work for Jagged Stone. None of the guesses were remotely close, of course, but when it came to things with her alter ego...

Well, that was just the way she liked it.