#blindsided by this tiredness

[brown-little-robin]

~

if you can, would you pray for me? I am having a really hard time right now.

I just. I have too much to do 😭 I've been in survival mode 24/7 for the last four weeks. and the homework is only going to get worse, and I will only have less time for it from here on out because more clients will be booking my hours at work.

Also, I haven't been able to visit my parents for weeks, and the one in-person friend I had at college graduated last year. I'm lonely. I love you all but being with people in the body is a human need. Also, I'm struggling with even feeling like church community is worth attending church this year.

[cutielando]

sleepy | l.n.

synopsis: in which you always fall asleep everywhere

my masterlist

You had a very good relationship with your sleep schedule. 

That was primarily due to the fact that with Lando’s schedule, having to fly all around the world almost every week, the constant time zone changes. You had to get some sleep any free chance you would get, no matter where.

Which is something Lando, his team and the fans around the world have grown to love. Every time the fans would see you in the paddock, they knew that pictures of you sleeping in a clearly uncomfortable position somewhere in the McLaren garage would surf the internet.

It was everyone’s favorite moment from the whole weekend.

“Y/N, it’s nice to see you again!” Zak greeted you once you had arrived in the garage with Lando for his home race.

“I couldn’t possibly miss this one” you said, hugging the older man and then stepping back to stand beside Lando again.

“We’re very glad to have you here. How’d you sleep last night?” he jokingly asked, making Lando chuckle from beside you.

It became a cute joke within the team, seeing as you managed to fall asleep every time, no matter how well rested you might be.

“Pretty good, but I can’t guarantee that you won’t find me passed out again” you laughed, knowing that it didn’t really bother anyone truly.

Lando talked for a little bit with Zak before leading you to his driver’s room.

When you opened the door, you noticed a new blanket and pillow that hadn’t been there before, which made you look back at Lando, raising your eyebrow.

“Where did those come from?” you asked as you picked up the blanket, immediately savoring the fluffy feeling against your fingers.

“Figured I would buy you a blanket for when you want to nap God knows where, just to make sure you’re comfy and won’t get cold” he explained, shrugging like it was not a big deal.

You pouted, the small gesture warming your heart.

“That’s so sweet, thank you baby” you put down the blanket and gave Lando a hug, pecking his lips before you let him get ready.

You walked around the garage silently, not wanting to get in anybody’s way. The race was about to begin and there was a lot going around, the place being as noisy as a garage could get before lights out.

And yet still, you find your eyes dropping down, sleep slowly threatening to blindside you and make you fall asleep.

But you had vowed to yourself that you wouldn’t fall asleep here, not at Silverstone.

It would prove to be harder than you had originally thought.

“Hey” Lando found you just moments before he had to get in the car, clutching his helmet in his hands.

“Be safe, okay? Come back to me in one piece and don’t forget to have fun” you said, helping fix the balaclava on his head.

He nodded, puckering his lips for his good luck kiss. Once you gave it to him, he put on his helmet and disappeared in the car, leaving you alone with his engineers.

“Hey Y/N” Jon said as he came to stand beside you, watching Lando now driving away from the garage.

“Hey Jon, how are you?” you tried to pay attention to everything he was telling you, but it was getting harder and harder to concentrate.

“Did you get any sleep last night?” Jon chuckled once he saw how much you were struggling not to pass out.

You nodded. “I did, it’s just something about the atmosphere at the races that lulls me right back to sleep. But I promised myself I wouldn’t fall asleep at this one” you explained, stifling a yawn.

Jon nodded, making small talk for a little longer.

Once the race itself started, you were bundled up in your new blanket from Lando, a pair of McLaren earphones on your ears and sitting beside Cisca, Lando’s mother.

You were trying very hard to follow the race, but the tiredness was creeping in more and more, until you found yourself resting your head against the wall behind you, letting yourself drift to a deep sleep.

When Cisca noticed that you were more quiet than usual, she looked over and saw how peacefully you were sleeping, albeit with your head in a very uncomfortable position.

Smiling fondly to herself, she slowly took your head in her hands and moved you so you were laying with your head in her lap. She absentmindedly weaved her hands through your hair while intently watching the race on the screens.

It wasn’t until the last 3 laps that you woke up, silently kicking yourself for falling asleep.

You looked confusedly around you, noticing Cisca above you smiling.

“Good morning, sunshine. Just in time for the last laps of the race” she explained, helping you settle back into a sitting position.

“I was out for that long?” you moaned, cursing to yourself that you missed the entire race because you were sleeping.

“Don’t beat yourself up dear, the important thing is that you’re here with us” she comforted you, rubbing your arm while averting her attention back to the screen.

You watched the screen intently, cheering and screaming once Lando had crossed the checkered flag in P2.

Both Cisca and Adam gave you tight hugs, congratulating the entire team alongside you.

You walked out of the garage with the two of them, your blanket still wrapped tightly around you as you walked towards the podium, your hands linked with Lando’s mother.

Lando parked his car in front of the number 2 sign, jumping out of the car and running over to where you were waiting for him by the barriers.

“I’m so proud of you!” you squealed as soon as he was within arms length, hugging him close.

“Did you sleep through the race?” he asked as he pulled up his visor, his eyes twinkling.

You smiled sheepishly, making him laugh loudly inside of his helmet.

“My sleepy girl” he mumbled, giving you a squeeze before moving on to hug his parents.

The next day after the race, photos of you sleeping in Cisca’s lap circulated on the internet, making you and your boyfriend laugh. 

Laugh because your habit had turned your relationship into a three-person relationship.

You, Lando and your sleep.

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REQUEST HERE

[gibberishfangirl]

I didn't see if your requests are open so if they are closed, please ignore this message. I would like to request furin boys + togame by going to the reader's house in the morning and being greeted by the reader with a sleepy face, a men's shirt that doesn't belong to the boys and being hugged from behind by another guy when, in fact, it's just the reader's gay friend who went for a girls' night out and everything really was just a misunderstanding 😁

WIND BREAKER | misunderstandings

Synopsis ✰ what happens when a misunderstanding occurs between the two of you involving another guy

Characters ✰ Haruka Sakura, Hajime Umemiya, Hayato Suo, Akihiko Nirei, Jo Togame

Contains ✰ sfw! some violence, everything’s resolved at the end, mistakes, misunderstandings, content of the boys reacting differently to the situation

★ hands thrown immediately, pray you or your friend have fast reflexes enough to break up the fight from truly escalating. he reacts now, asks questions later. quite literally gets blindsided by their emotions and doesn’t think straight ★

-> Haruka Sakura ᡣ𐭩

Sakura couldn’t even wrap his head around the situation. all he saw was you in a shirt that wasn’t his with a guy who wasn’t him either. his body reacted quicker than his mind could’ve, before any of you even knew it he walked past you and immediately shoved your friend into the ground away from you. your body jolted as all your tiredness disappeared from the commotion. you had to jump in front of your friend to prevent Sakura from doing more. “wait Sakura! it’s not like that.” is all you could manage to get out as Sakura paused confused by your words. you explained what happened the previous night to him and he was quickly embarrassed by his reaction. of course he offered an apology to your friend, which he didn’t truly mean since you still wore a shirt that wasn’t his. after your friend left, the two of you had a conversation where you reassured him that you would never do something like that to him.

-> Jo Togame ᡣ𐭩

Togame was already having a rough morning, which is the reason why he went to your house. he just wanted to see you so his day can get better. at least, that’s what he thought he needed until someone who wasn’t you opened your door. at first he assumed that he must’ve gotten the wrong house but that was debunked as he saw your figure pop up behind the guy. all he had to do was take one look at you and than your friend for all these crazy assumptions to enter his mind. he grabbed your friend by the collar of his shirt and slammed him against the wall before flinging a fist into his direction. you had to pry Togame off of him and once you did he left before you could even explain yourself. you caught him later that day to explain what happened and why your friend was there. of course you were furious with him because of the way he reacted and he understood why. you both understood each others perspective and apologized to one another after that you both apologized to your friend for getting caught in the crossfire.

★ skeptical but proceeds with caution, he knows you would never do anything to hurt him. he tries to keep a clear mind and asks what happens as calmly as possible ★

-> Hayato Suo ᡣ𐭩

Suo’s not a violent person for the most part… he knows better than to respond with violence or blow up. what he also knows is that you would never do anything to hurt him. especially not anything that involves cheating or being unfaithful. he simply asks what happens and you two explain the chaotic night you had. Suo wasn’t necessarily thrilled about the outcome since he would’ve preferred to be the one who went home with you. he politely asked that next time you just call him when you’re in trouble or need to get home. he’s very understanding and nice about everything.

-> Hajime Umemiya ᡣ𐭩

Umemiya’s a rational person, he has to be. That doesn’t mean he has to like what he sees, he dislikes it but won’t react before getting a response as to what is even happening. not to mention, he trusts you so much. “hey, what’s going on?” are the only words that leave his mouth after entering your house. after you explained what happened he’s relieved that it wasn’t what it seemed. however, his first time meeting your friend was a bit awkward due to the situation itself. he still wished you would’ve called him instead to go get you from your hang out with friends. he would’ve made sure you got home safely. don’t be surprised if he comes back to your house the next day with a bunch of his spare tees so you can use them as sleeping shirts from now on.

★ emotional wreck, walks out without wanting to hear an explanation. genuinely feels so much heartbreak and doesn’t know what to think ★

-> Akihiko Nirei ᡣ𐭩

Nirei took one look at the two of you and instantly walked out. he felt his heart shatter right in that moment as soon as you opened the door. his entire day went from 100 to 0 in a matter of seconds. you tried to call out for him but he ignored you and proceeded to walk away. you had to move fast in order to catch up to him to explain yourself. you found him eventually on the side of the road clearly upset. “Nirei. it wasn’t like that, i swear.” fortunately enough for you he was willing to listen. poor guy was definitely caught up in his own mind, he always felt like he wasn’t good enough for you and after seeing how you looked like with someone else he convinced himself it was true. you went the extra mile to reassure him nothing like that would ever happen.

-> Haruka Sakura ᡣ𐭩

Sakura was furious. he was angry, upset, sad, frustrated, and most importantly he felt betrayed. he was used to being outcasted and hated by those around him. he was used to everyone treating him poorly but he thought you were different. he felt stupid for thinking someone out there could have loved him or wasn’t like everyone else in some way or another. you couldn’t find him after he left, in fact he went pretty much m.i.a. since the incident. it took some convincing but he agreed to meet up with you so you can explain what happened. you felt bad that you had accidentally triggered him in that way. the two of you had a long conversation about everything and managed to work things out. he was a bit shy after being so vulnerable about his feelings but it helped you two create a deeper bond with one another.

a/n <3 : hope you enjoy this one! hopefully i did your request justice :’D i did two for Sakura simply just because i feel like his reaction can go either way. as for Togame, that man’s throwing hands regardless of how his morning is going. i also decided to try out a new format for these kind of scenarios, lmk if you guys like it? :)

[lennonhead]

blindsided by information so cute I now am completely wide awake with zero tiredness. it energised me. but I have a job interview early tomorrow fhnsfndgh

[simslegacy5083]

NSB (Straud Legacy) Gen 8 Ep. 164: The Spirit of Giving

By Harvestfest Luigi was completely over his sickness, but it seemed he’d given it to his Papa Jack, who woke up feeling quite ill.

The couple bowed out of the big family get together to keep Jack close to home and resting. Peachy got worried when Jack was still in bed by mid-afternoon and insisted they take a trip to the clinic. Uncle August and their old friend Valentina agreed to watch their little man while they were out.

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

The doctor told the pair it was a good thing Peachy had brought his husband in quickly.

As an elder Sim, Jack’s Llama Flu could actually have been deadly without proper treatment. They gave Jack an injection to combat the infection and told him to get comfortable as he’d need to be monitored for a couple hours to make sure the medication was doing its job.

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

While they waited, Jack surprised Peachy by asking about another medical issue he’d been struggling with. Apparently, he’d been having trouble falling asleep and staying asleep lately. Peachy sighed; his husband hadn’t said a word to HIM. He’d always been a great caregiver but a difficult patient! He didn’t bother to scold his bro, knowing it wouldn’t do any good, but silently resolved to keep a better eye on him in the future.

The doctor said sleep changes were a common part of aging. He provided the pair with a brochure on healthy habits and a script for some sleeping pills for Jack to take as needed.

Jack was finally released, feeling much better and protected from the worst effects of the flu.

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

The boys returned from the clinic to find Luigi playing with Valentina’s son Scott while she and August talked quietly in the kitchen.

The old friends were surrounded by the abandoned ingredients of some traditional Harvestfest dishes. As the chefs reclaimed their kitchen, a tearful Valentina explained that her wife had blindsided her with both their youngest and divorce papers, rather distracting her from the holiday preparations.

Long term, both kids would stay in school at Gemma’s Tartosa home, and Valentina would probably be moving back in with her folks as she figured everything out, though she wasn’t thrilled by the prospect of living at home and “feeling like a kid again”.

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

The men hated hearing about Valentina’s failed marriage and unhappiness with her planned living situation. Peachy shot a questioning look at Jack and got a subtle approval to ask if she’d like to come stay at the homestead for awhile instead. There was plenty of space for her and her kids to stay over.

Her lightning-fast acceptance let him know she had definitely been hoping her friends would offer to help her recover with them. After dinner she gave Peachy a big hug and thanked him and Jack for the space and support to deal with finalizing the custody arrangements and separation from Gemma.

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

At bedtime Peachy made sure to inquire into how Jack was feeling and encouraged him to take one of the new sleeping pills they had picked up when he sheepishly admitted to experiencing that kind of restless tiredness that had been plaguing him so often lately.

As they cuddled and waited for the meds to take effect, they agreed they were glad they could do something nice for a Sim who had always been so kind and supportive of them. Little Luigi would benefit from another good influence and the opportunity to see Scott more often.

This Harvestfest had brought some unpleasant surprises, but it had ended on a high note, and they counted it a success as they drifted off to sleep.

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Want To See More? View The Full Story of My Not So Berry Challenge Here

[the-graves-family]

4. Shock | "You in there?"

Aaron’s bad days usually end with someone’s blood on the floor. Never his own, though.

Work was shit, his coworkers were annoying, and there’d been a fuckton of traffic. The perfect mix to make him really pissed off. He’s expecting to get home, eat something, and pass the fuck out.

Which sounds like a very nice plan in theory, but quickly goes out the window when the first thing he sees when he steps into the house is his twin, poised to run like he’s been caught off-guard by his arrival.

Tiredness and irritation coil in his chest, condense into something cold and malicious. Ace must see the change in his eyes, because surprise quickly turns into terror.

“Aaron—”

“I thought you knew better,” he purrs, dropping his things in the hallway and advancing on Ace. His brother doesn’t move from his spot, knowing better than to provoke Aaron into a chase. “Being out and about when my day was shit? Not smart, babe.” 

Ace doesn’t say anything, just stands as straight as he can and keeps his gaze firmly on the ground, in a futile attempt to appease him. That just means he’s blindsided when Aaron grabs him by the hair and slams his head into the nearest wall.

There’s no warning sign, just the quick sound of movement and then pain exploding from the back of his skull.

It had not been a good day for Ace either. He hadn’t eaten anything nor had any water throughout the day, stuck in his room in abject terror for some unknown reason, terrified of leaving as if something horrible would happen if he did. Some days were just like that. He’d only just managed to calm down enough to try and go to the kitchen when Aaron had come home.

What’s the opposite of serendipity? When terrible things keep happening by chance?

Ace crumbles at the pain, only held up in a marginally vertical position by his brother’s hand tangled in his hair. The pain that should be sharp and explosive, feels almost muted. Distant. He’s not sure if it’s because of the site of the impact or because he hasn’t gotten any energy left in him.

Aaron just blinks when Ace doesn’t cry or whimper or beg, just goes limp. With a curious hum, he lets go and watches as his brother just falls to the ground, doesn’t even try to catch himself. Interesting.

The wall’s stained with blood.

His twin is awake, eyes open but unfocused. Aaron kneels down and prods Ace’s face, watching as there’s barely any reaction. He’s sure he didn’t hit him that hard. “Hey.” There’s no worry in his tone or posture. He’s just extremely curious about this new phenomenon. New means interesting, although he’s sure to get bored of it real soon, as with everything else.

“Hey.” He tries again, digging his nails into Ace’s face, into the scars that marr it. No reaction. That usually gets a big one. “Fucking asshole.” As predicted, he’s already bored. Ace is just staring at some distant point, not giving him anything to work with. “You’re so fucking boring today.”

Maybe his plan of just eating something and going to sleep is still his best bet. Should be more interesting than watching his brother slowly pass out, or whatever was going on, in any case.

With another nonchalant hum, Aaron gets up and stretches, feeling most of his vertebrae crack as he does. Maybe he should go back to the gym sometime. Doesn’t want to get soft.

He leaves Ace on the floor. The blood flow is too slow to be worrisome. Ace’ll get up again eventually, to keep being a pain in his ass for however long he manages to cling onto life.

[calamitysshatteredson]

@wingsdreamt

Given the expression he's only so successful in pretending not to be watching on Zack's face, the comment about other people rather accidentally gets a soft snort out of Sephiroth. "'Other people' have never been particularly easy for some of us to begin with." There's no real bitterness in his own contribution; it's a simple matter of fact. Zack was the people person more than anyone else he'd ever come across.

He'd thought it much nicer, better, to be alone. It had been for a long while, and he distinctly remembers his absolute resistance to that being changed, to "letting anyone in", as it were. Then the discovery was made that some individuals will simply knock holes in walls via sheer determination. It's-- A good memory. But it's bittersweet. Like seemingly everything else. Considering the circumstances, however...

He's just dragged about the last person he ever expected to see again out of a mako pool and is still slowly wrapping his mind around it when he's overcome by the realization that sharing space is really quite-- Nice. Depending on the individual, it goes without saying, but camaraderie and comfortable silences felt rare enough way back when. Sephiroth never gave much thought to the possibilities of them happening again, of the way something about the idea seems like it ought to be held on to overly tightly and not be let go of.

He's lost in thought enough that he nearly startles when Zack seemingly collapses out of nowhere. For one startlingly real moment wondering if it's all already gone wrong, half crouched and reaching out as if that would do any good at all before--

No, that's just... Zack. Being himself, in spite of everything. He doubts he lets his hand drop or settles back down in time to not be seen, witnessed, but he can't quite feel embarrassed about it.

Which makes the question blindside him several times more potently than it normally would. "Vacation." Every individual syllable sounds like it's being read off a page for the first time. An unthinkable idea before, ludicrous now.

Downright normal in its own undefinable way. Right down to the swirling feeling of exasperated amusement that he's not certain he can hide as he stares back, though it's the moment when the sleeping bag is mentioned that he feels the slightest heat in his face again. "Permission granted to whatever extent the sleeping situation becomes comfortable." Sephiroth supposes he can't really be too hard on himself for not planning ahead for this eventuality, but it will continue to be a minor annoyance.

It's almost a distracted thought, showing the degree of tiredness and relief he's feeling as he lightly waves a hand toward the wings. Proper-looking ones, with feathers that look as healthy and well-insulated as any bird's. "You do seem to have blankets or tent walls already attached to you, regardless." Not the most serious comment he's ever made, but an honest observation regardless.

Going anywhere official has this tendency to lead from one thing to another, and then suddenly you find yourself strapped to a gurney in some crazy rich guy’s mansion while a mad scientist tests the theory of whether, given enough of the right type of foreign matter, this organ or that organ will fit itself back into the shell of your body. 

Hm.

Old traumas don’t just go away. They don’t need to discuss that, not really. It is enough to have lived the horrors once, and it would be all too soon to ever feel the need to revisit  it again. Inviting curiosity, mutually and silently agreed upon, is a bad thing. If he has to, he can live with reintroducing himself to society with a grotesque deformity which he absolutely will not reveal under any circumstances while in a public space. With some limping, a bit of groaning– oh yeah, he could really sell it. 

“Yeah…Other people...Probably not the easiest thing to do.” Maybe no one will remember some country kid promoted 1st Class on the eve of SOLDIER’s descent to insignificance, but the same cannot be said for Sephiroth by far. Obscurity is the best sort of peace he could ask for and nearly impossible to obtain.

“Mm…” Legs crossed, Zack clasps his hands over the intersection of his legs as he rocks back and forth. He’s weighing their options. What even is the ‘proper’ way of handling anything, assuming two men who were supposedly very dead just showed up on someone’s doorstep one day for afternoon tea? Would having more of the supposedly deceased make it better or worse?

Once is chance, twice is coincidence, thrice is a pattern. That’s two ex-SOLDIERs, what’s another? And another? 

Well, maybe that’s pushing their luck.

Zack flops over onto his back, staring up at the sky and marveling at the twinkling lights that seem so bright without a towering city skyline to outshine them. Knowing is more than enough for now. If nothing else, he knows what Sephiroth hasn’t been doing. 

Flailing for a moment, Zack tries to sort out his limbs. He manages, eventually, to end up on his side propped up by his elbow to look up at Sephiroth again.

They’re back, they’re here, for whatever reason that may be and he sees no reason that they have to wait for good things in due time. He’s got an angle. Not a very subtle one, but his transparency is part of his charm as far as he’s been told. There’s no path forward that doesn’t involve dragging Sephiroth along with him for the experience. Within reason, of course. 

“Have you like, been on a vacation, man? Recently, I mean.” 

Watching his wing mirror his hand movements will definitely take some getting used to, and he makes a point of keeping his gaze locked onto Sephiroth’s so his eyes don’t follow anything happening in his periphery. 

“Camping with a single sleeping bag between two people doesn’t count, FYI.” Zack squints and picks at the lip of the bag like he’s been issued a challenge. “Uh. Am I allowed to ask if we can cut this thing in half? Won't be that hard to keep warm.”

[rumblelibrary]

Have you ever thought about writing a continuation to Unofficial Meeting? I'm dying to know whether Laszlo earns the reader's forgiveness and if she accepts his proposal or not. Have a good day! 😚

Undisclosed Meeting [Dr Laszlo Kreizler x Fem!Reader]

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Laszlo self deprecating himself hard

A/N: how could I give up a chance to make my boy Laszlo happy? Thank you so much for requesting it, it really made me happy to have an old story requested. Here is the original story

“Are you even listening to me?”

Violet inquired as you blinked surprised and taken aback. She invited you over for an afternoon tea, but your mind kept wondering off to what happened between you and Laszlo. You haven’t seen him in over a month and to be honest you missed him. The first few days you were firm on your choice, he upset you and your family, he crossed your boundaries mindlessly.

But then you realised how he meant to ask your hand to your father, how he never meant for you to be hurting, he just wanted to make it official.

Your grandmother tried to talk you out of your anger but she didn’t managed to, it was over anyway. You upset each other, you closed that chapter.

If you have feelings for him that chapter is not closed, your grandmother told you but you tried to ignore it. You haven’t seen him in so long, not even at some event or where you’d usually expect him to be. He kept sending you flowers to you until the end of the previous month. That silly man, always hating to leave things halfway done.

“I am, I am just a bit tired” you said as she waved her hand 

“nonsense ” she said offering you to try some sweets while she stood up to call her maid and gather what she meant to show you “I’ll show you now the latest Paris fashion and you’ll have to wake up” 

She was your friend, she was sweet and she knew you were on a rough patch now and she did all in her power t keep you distracted.

“Charles stop it”

John’s voice rang through you ears as you stood up to see what was going on from the window facing the luscious back garden of the Moore residence. Little Charles was the spit image of his parents and an adventurer at heart, you could tell from the way he kept his father busy running after him.

You smiled as John gave up opening his arms in defeat.

“What I have to do?” He groaned making you chuckle as for a moment it looked like he was asking to God, but when you noticed that he was in fact talking to Dr Kreizler who was sitting on a bench. You codlin’t help but rest your eyes on him, he looked pale, tired like he wasn’t sleeping. He was like this during investigations but as far as you knew there was no one at the moment.

“Wat you have to do John? Let the boy be” he said as a tired smile crept onto his lips.

“Yes, he will break his skull in a second”

Laszlo shook his head looking at him “If you prevent him from doing anything he won’t never learn” he said as he spoke matter of factly but that tiredness in his voice was evident. You wondered what kept him up.

You wondered if t was your fault.

But then you saw the sweet look he had for the child as he picked a ball that was hiding behind his back to give it to him to play with.

He was so good with kids, it was incredible.

You knew it was his job, but the tenderness he showed with them was something you felt on your own skin as you used to be allowed to be part of that special round of people that got to see him being sweet.

You moved away from the window just in time for Violet to come back, her maids holding onto over twenty new items of clothing.

“V” you said to her as the use of that little nickname sparked already her attention “I have to ask you a favour”

It was dead in the evening when Laszlo got asked from Violet to meet a friend of hers with a child with various problems.

The symptoms she described didn’t really add up, they should be excluding each other. But no matter what he decided to go there. 

He usually was very firm about his privacy and the times he could meet or not patients, even though the secrecy of the hour would be typical of a wealthy family trying to hide some kind of a problem they judge as shameful, he also came to a point where work was all he got.

He missed you, everything reminded him of you. He hoped to see, he would be a liar if he didn’t admit to have handed a dollar or two to your maid to at least know how are you.

He didn’t mean to stalk you, he just wanted you happy and once more he was acting behind your back. But your maid told him you were fine and doing your business, so he stopped inquiring. He didn’t deserve you in the first place anyway, but how things ended really pained him, he really thought to be doing right and he really wanted to have a future with you, to have many what John has.

But what nonsense thinking about it now that it is all gone and by his own hand, he had nobody to blame but himself.

As he arrived to the building he got inside surprised not to find anyone at service but only an open door.

The instinct would have told him to go away, but he was reckless by now, he already lost what he cared the most.

Walking inside the candlelit hallway he was surprised to get to a large living room only to find you there.

The truth was that he stopped on his track to admire you. You were amazing, he adored you in any possible shape and form, everything from your clothing to your composure screamed for his eyes to be fixated onto you.

He took that moment to look at you, take in your image, last time you two spoke you were so upset and he didn’t want that to be the last image he had of you.

“I am more discreet than you when I have to do things in secret” you said and he smiled lightly

“You’re”

His admission, the tiredness of his look just paining you.

“Is this a house of your family?”

“Yes, it is my aunt’s but she is on some cruise with her husband”

He nodded quietly as he looked around moving closer to you, the candles around you making him feel like the moment was set in another time.

“You didn’t have to make an appointment to meet me”

“Well, I asked a friend for a favour, I could have paid Stevie to drive you here anyway” you answered, basically hinting him that your maid didn’t keep his little inquiring a secret between the two of you.

He nodded gulping down, he felt like he was naked in front of you, defenceless and anything you could attack him with would really hurt. 

“I though that after our last conversation we needed to speak alone and in a neutral ground, I attacked you and I know I moved past my means”

“Just like I did inquiring about your life without permission” he concluded for you, he kept thinking about that day over and over, he couldn’t take it out of his mind and he even thought it would be easy only because so many people hated him already, button you. He wished you’d never be one of them.

“Miss Y/L/N” the fact he used your last name showing how he was trying to prove you some respect, not using your first name like you’re somehow close, mostly because he doubts you’d wish him close at any time.

“All I have ever wanted was to be worth of you”

His words trembling, like snakes sliding onto your skin.

He opened his mouth to say something and he closed it as he stared somewhere away from you, he shook his head slowly. The pain visible through him.

“I am a despicable failure as a human being, I know it” he said as he rose his hand to invite your silence “I have spent my life trying to find a common language  to get through people, studying them ,making sure to be able to read human behaviour to allow myself the freedom of interaction. I am not a natural like John, I can’t just go on a group and charm my way through it and I knew, I knew from the moment you allowed me to be close to you that I would ruin it because I am such social wreck, because I can’t control myself or I can’t not follow the rules that I have been told are the right path to follow”

He let out a shaky breath as he looked down and then up at you, he was trying to hold back tears but the truth was that he cried for losing you, He cried for nights and days.

“I apologise once more, I wanted to do you right and I just overstepped you. I always admired you for your being independent and clever and I reduced you to an object with my insensitive behaviour. I always make myself strong from talking my way through people and I blindsided you when words were the most needed”

You looked at him as maybe for the first time he really throw away the mask, he really let himself speak up.

“I valued what you did for me” you blinked at him surprised, your head slightly falling on side to observe him.

He was going down the self deprecating himself hill, you could almost count how much time there was between him going down onto his arm topic. You know that was always his undisclosed weakness, how he hated it and saw himself as unlovable because imperfect.

“It is yes”

He looked at you with a frown not seeing what you mean.

“My answer for your question”

He frowned even more, what question? You could hear it resonate into his mind as he didn’t ask you anything, he came to you to apologise and…

And then he got it.

His eyes widened as he opened his mouth only to close it again.

No, he was probably misunderstanding, once more reading badly the situation.

You picked your left glove slowly taking it off to show him you were wearing his ring on your hand.

He stared at you, his hand hesitantly moving to pick yours bringing it up to his lips and resting a kiss over it, his hand holding yours as he stared up at you.

His wet eyes now unmistakable from cha closeness, the signs of his lack of sleep visible.

“In a marriage there shouldn’t be secrets, I tried to avoid something shameful for me when you allowed me to see every part of you” you admitted as you weren’t free from blame, you referred to pretend something wasn’t there rather than facing it.

He stared at you with shaky breath, as he licked his lips trying to find words.

“I love you Laszlo, I really want to be your wife”

His jaw trembled as the happiness rushed over him like electricity, his hand bringing yours over his heart beating so fast and hard that he felt it could explode.

“I love you Y/N” he whispered as you caressed his cheek with your right hand as he leaned down, still not daring to believe what was happening.

So you just did it, you leaned in closing the space between the two of you with a kiss.

The times were changed.

Women could accept wedding proposals without their father’s approval, men could cry for love and love words were made of truths and exposed weaknesses and not by the words of dusty poets. And with such strong ideals you could only imagine your life as set up for a greater kind of happiness with him.

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief @thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved @fictionlandslanddreams@charistory @greeneyedblondie44 @apparrio @hb8301 @whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme  @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl @obsidianlaszlo @alindeluce @zemosimp05 @baronesszemo-blackwood @nocapesdahling @everythingbeginsineternity-blog

[cegantheayugipi]

Reverse Curse Manifestation (Jujutsu Kaisen x Reader)

So, I've finally decided to post my JJK fic on here! If you want to read everything I've written so far, check it out on Ao3! if you want to chat, join my discord server! Lost? Here's the masterlist!

Summary: You meet a salaryman with odd fashion sense, only to discover that your budding friendship is a gateway to a world of curses and superpowers -- and you were at the center of it all along.

Pairings: Nanami x reader, mild Gojo x reader, Naoya x reader, Sukuna x reader, later satosugu

Chapter 1: An Unplanned Exorcism

The bell chimed as the door to your coffee shop swung open, and a tall blonde man wearing sunglasses stepped inside.

You look up from the screen of your cash register and give a welcoming smile. His face was sculpted like a Greek god, and his business attire dripped with formality. His hair was always neatly parted in just the right way, not a strand out of place. You wondered if the man was a model whenever he came in, but he was always dressed in business formal attire so you thought he likely wasn’t.

You spoke up, but not with the usual welcoming ramble that you gave every customer.

“Let me guess, is it the usual?” You ask, smiling up at him as he walked smoothly towards the counter. His eyebrows raised and his head tilted ever so slightly, surprised by your memorization of his order.

Of course, he was a striking man, with his platinum blonde hair and odd sunglasses with no arms. He always came to order the same sandwich and coffee, so after a while you began to remember him well. This was the second time this week he had come in, several weeks in a row you would see him later on in the day, once the lunch rush was over and the shop was much more quiet. He was quite pleasant to your eyes, and you always enjoyed seeing him whenever he visited the shop.

“Yes, please.” He responded politely, and as you began typing on the register he lowered his glasses. You looked up to make eye contact only briefly, his eyes flitting to just left of your face for just a moment before looking back down and taking his wallet out to pay.

Once you handed him his order, you spoke up once more. “If you like this sandwich, I’d recommend this version as well.” You pointed to another one in the display window at the counter. “If you’d like a bit of a change, that is.” You looked up at his face, which was paused and stoic behind his round sunglasses. “Have a nice day, sir!” you added on.

As he turned to leave, he replied “and you too”.

Stepping outside, you were left alone in the shop once again.

~~~

The next week, you were cleaning the countertops after the lunch rush when the dapper young man entered once again. You gave him a warm smile as he stepped towards the counter.

“Is it the usual again?” You asked, looking up at his hidden eyes.

“Actually, I think I’ll try something new.” You smiled as you knew what he was talking about, and nodded in response. As you began to prepare his order, he spoke up once again. “Have you been feeling more tired than usual?”

You paused, blindsided by his surprisingly personal question. Pondering about your stiff neck, restless nights and groggy mornings, you became worried that the stress from your degree was beginning to show. “I think so… What makes you ask that?” You looked up at him as you responded, and saw a rare emotion on his face. It seemed like a mixture of uneasiness and contemplation. You drank in his features, your eyes going glossy as you simply admired his new expression, not paying much attention as to why he would look at you this way.

“It wouldn’t make much sense to you if I explained it…” He responded slowly. A smile grew over your face as you realized that he had noticed something before any of your close friends had. Your tiredness, not just from a repetitive and exhausting schedule of classes and work, but you were nearing the end of the penultimate year of your degree and it was becoming more and more demanding of you.

“That’s alright, my grandma had a sixth sense too. She could tell even when strangers weren’t feeling their best. Thank you for looking out for me though.” You bowed before looking up at his face, watching your reply change his expression from uneasy to relieved. There was a long pause, and he seemed to be thinking about something.

“If I told you I could help, would you believe me?” He asked.

“Well, it depends.” You responded briefly, wondering what he was getting at.

“I see.” He nodded his head. “Hold still for me.” He lifted his arm slowly towards you, then swiped it to the side. Before you could think what on earth he was doing, you felt your body involuntarily tremble, as an internal balance shifted. There was an invisible weight that lifted, as you saw the man become startled for a moment as you nearly lost your balance. There was a long pause, as you looked down at your feet, wondering if they were still on the ground. After several seconds your senses realigned and you looked back up to see that he was intently staring at you.

“Are you okay?” The man asked in a concerned tone.

“Yeah, I think I just got startled for a second.” You didn’t know what happened, so you tried to brush it off with a smile. You had no clue what he did, but you felt so much better after that. “Thank you…” You paused, realizing that you didn’t even know his name.

“It’s Nanami. Kento Nanami.” He spoke up. As you continued to smile, your eyes gleamed. The edge of his lips seemed to turn upwards ever so slightly, and you took in his remarkable cheekbones and jawline, highlighted by the afternoon sun streaming through the shop window.

“Th-Thank you, Nanami-san!” You didn’t mean to stutter, but you were engrossed in his features. He nodded in response, picked up the bag with his order, and turned to leave. Your eyes didn’t part from his figure until he was out of sight.

After Nanami left the shop, he sighed to himself. “She probably thinks I’m a weirdo now.” He thought. Although, he knew he shouldn’t care about what a young girl thinks. He needed to get back to work, and make his money.

What you didn’t know was that every time Nanami came into the shop, he noticed a small cursed spirit on your shoulder. Over the weeks, it began to grow in size, and he began to weigh the benefits of exorcising the curse. He knew he shouldn’t care since he is no longer a sorcerer, but something changed his mind when he realized how much care you gave when serving him in the coffee shop. He felt almost obligated to be kind in return, and that’s what prompted him to speak up about it.

Nanami sighed deeply, reentering his office building. Your grateful smile played in the back of his mind as he pushed the elevator button. Seeing the doors open and several suit-clad businessmen file out of the spacious elevator for their lunch breaks, Nanami shook his head to rid himself of the image of you. He needed to get back to work.

~~~

Nanami began to look forward to his lunch break, and not because he would have a brief reprieve from his punishing office job. He always waited until mid afternoon to have his lunch, although he would always be quite hungry by that time. That was because you didn’t begin your shift until 2pm, which he realized through careful trial and error. One day while he was picking up his lunch, he asked you why he would always see you every day, and you briefly explained that you studied at a nearby university, and since you had morning classes, you could work in the afternoons and evenings. He made sure to keep a note of which universities were in the area, although he never dared to ask which one you attended. He looked forward to the casual conversations, watching you diligently work behind the counter.

The memory of your cheerful face replayed in his mind as he walked across the street to the coffee shop. Today, when he entered the shop, you immediately met his gaze. It was as if you were waiting expectantly for him, and he knew this was because he rarely ever missed a day.

“Good afternoon, Nanami-san!” You smiled cheerfully.

“It’s awfully bright out today, isn’t it?” Nanami asked as a greeting.

Your smile became toothy. “Yes, I’m actually jealous of you with your sunglasses, although I’ve been inside all day!” Nanami chuckled ever so slightly at your response, so quietly that none of the other customers would hear him.

“The regular again today?” You asked. He nodded, and you went to prepare the meal as you so often did.

As you picked up the cup to make him his coffee, you noticed a dark purple flash in your peripheral vision. The room became dark, and it no longer felt like a bright sunny day. You looked up to see a huge, oozing mass covering most of the window, with several eyes staring into the shop. Your eyes widened as you gasped, dropping the cup.

Nanami noticed the pure horror on your face and whipped around suddenly to see the cursed spirit blocking the sunny view outside. Immediately he jumped into action, turning back around and moving to block your view of it. He was tall enough so most of your view was just his chest.

“Don’t look.” He spoke curtly in a hushed tone, placing both palms firmly on the counter. “You can see it, can’t you?”

You didn’t speak. You simply nodded.

“Okay, it’s going to be fine. Just pretend you can’t see it.” He spoke calmly, the tone of his voice soothing you. “If you can, try to serve me as normal. Pretend it’s not there, it won’t bother you. I’ll take care of it when I leave the shop.”

You were a mess, trembling and unable to say anything. You nodded once again and prepared him his regular order, black coffee and his favorite sandwich. He took his food and paid, walking calmly outside. As the next customer came up to order, you couldn’t help but stare intently at the window. The mass was slightly translucent, allowing in murky purple light through the window. You saw nanami walk by as if nothing was wrong, only to raise the arm closest to the shop above his head as if shielding himself from the sun, and bring it down to strike the disgusting mass of eyeballs a bit off-center. He continued to walk as if nothing happened, as the mass seemed to disintegrate into the air.

“Excuse me, miss? Are you alright?” You finally heard the customer speak to you, likely not for the first time. Your functionality finally kicked back in as you noticed the situation.

“I’m very sorry, I will get my colleague to help you.” You bowed your head deeply as you apologized. You hurried to the back and called your coworker, who was preparing pastry dough for the next day. “I’m feeling unwell so I need to take my break early to get some fresh air, please look after the customers for me!”

“What!” your coworker responded, surprised. “You just started your shift 30 minutes ago!” she complained.

“I’m sorry, I’ll make it up to you I promise!” You responded as you ran towards the back door, forgetting to take your staff apron off. You continued to run in the direction that Nanami went, desperate for answers. You saw him walking casually back towards his office building.

“Nanami-san, wait!” You called out to him. He turned around, startled. “Please… I want to know what’s going on.”

The expression on his face changed, and he realized he had to explain the world of sorcery to you. What a bother, he thought to himself. He knew his lunch break would be too long now, and he would have to work extra time to make up for it.

“Here, let’s sit down and we can talk.” He guided you over to a bench on the side of the road. The both of you paused, unsure of what to say next.

You began. “What was that? That monster?” You asked.

“It’s a cursed spirit. Sadly, they’re everywhere in society. They can attack humans, or feed off of them like leeches. They’re made of the negative emotions that people feel. That’s why some people, called sorcerers, kill these cursed spirits for a living.” He continued on, describing the world of sorcerers and his upbringing at jujutsu tech.

Eventually, the topic came to a much more pertinent issue. “Wait, so that thing on my shoulder a couple weeks back…” You paused. “Was that-”

“A cursed spirit, yes. It was leeching off of your energy.” He answered your question before you could finish it.

“But… why couldn’t I see it?” You asked.

“That’s the issue that concerns me.” Nanami spoke. “I have never seen someone suddenly acquire the ability to see a cursed spirit, while not in a life-or-death situation.”

“Is that bad?” you asked.

“Not necessarily.” He responded quickly in order to reassure you. “Although it could make you a target for cursed spirits, if they know you can see them. But that’s easily avoided as long as you don’t stare at them, or if you shield your eyes.” He pointed to his sunglasses. You chuckled, remembering only a couple minutes earlier you were jealous of his shades.

“But,” Nanami continued. “It could become an issue if another human finds out, and they belong to an organization that finds interest in unusual people like you.” He paused, and you stayed quiet.

“For now…” He continued to think as he spoke. “I think it would be best for you to hide the fact that you can see spirits from everyone, stranger or not.”

You nodded solemnly, still in shock from all of the new information. You now knew that curses were everywhere, and as you looked at the passing crowd, you realized that you could see some attached to people, and small ones flying through the air like bugs. This began to upset you.

“Nanami-san, what do I-” You choked up, and tears welled in your eyes. You were finally overwhelmed by emotions, after sitting there taking in all of that information for several minutes.

Nanami was bewildered about what to do, he felt like he was the one who made you cry. He was preparing to tell you that you would be fine and he wouldn’t let any spirit hurt you, when you began to speak again.

“All of these people, they’re being hurt by cursed spirits.” Your throat was tight as you spoke, and a tear rolled down one cheek. Nanami realized what you were talking about, as he looked around to see small spirits everywhere, some attached to humans. Your sadness wasn’t caused by your situation, but humanity’s as a whole. He felt a twang in his heart, and was unsure of what to say as he sat there. He put his hand on your shoulder, the reassuring weight of his presence immediately giving you comfort.

“If you see a spirit that worries you, you can message or call me. I’d prefer a message, especially if I’m at work.” Nanami reached into his jacket and pulled out his business card holder. Instead of pulling out one of the top cards, which were plain white, he flipped through to the back to pull out one that was navy blue with silver lettering. It said Nanami Kento, grade 1 jujutsu sorcerer. You didn’t know what grade 1 meant, but it must have been powerful.

“Grade 1 jujutsu sorcerer…” You murmured, as you stared at the card handed to you.

“I’m not a jujutsu sorcerer anymore, that job sucked.” Nanami explained. “Although, being a salaryman sucks too, and they’re both paid the same.”

“I see.” You were cheered back up by his stoic and straightforward personality. “I guess all you can do is choose which one you are more suited to.”

Your pun didn’t go over his head, as he looked down at his clothing and gave the slightest chuckle. “Speaking of, I really should be getting back to work. And so should you. I’m sure your 15 minute break is up by now.”

You agreed. “Thank you Nanami-san, for everything!” You smiled, but this time it was bittersweet. For some reason, you still felt sad about everyone else, whose lives were unchanged after your huge revelation. Nanami didn’t realize how pure and strong your empathy for others was, but he was beginning to see it now. However, on the forefront of his mind was getting back to work, so he wouldn’t have to stay late.

~~~

You didn’t want to message Nanami quite yet. It had only been 2 days since the event at the coffee shop, and you cancelled your shift both days. Instead, you decided to study quietly at home to get ahead of your next week’s classes. It was getting dark, and all the streetlights began to turn on.

As you were staring out your apartment window, on the street below you noticed one light that wasn’t turning on. It was one that you remembered had been broken for a very long time. However, you suddenly noticed that a particularly large spirit was attached to it, murky greyish green and filled with nightmarish eyeballs. You thought, perhaps this would be the time to message him.

“Hello, It’s me~” you messaged Nanami’s phone number, leaving your name out on purpose. Unless he was talking to several girls, but you knew he wasn’t. “Is it possible for cursed spirits to break light bulbs?”

Nanami was still in the office, working late. When he felt a vibration inside his pocket, he knew exactly what it was. No one ever messaged or called his old work phone, so he left it on vibrate so he’d know when you would call.

He briefly looked around to see that most of the nearby desks were empty, as most of his coworkers had already gone home. He pulled the phone out of his pocket to read your message.

“It would depend. What is the type of cursed spirit in question?” He typed discreetly, hitting send and placing the phone back into his pocket.

You heard a ding as a message from “Nanami San” popped up on your phone’s lock screen. You immediately opened it and then swiped to open the camera app, only to realize to your dismay that you couldn’t photograph cursed spirits with your phone, as it showed just a plain street lamp. You sent the photo anyway, and included a message.

“Well, I realized they don’t show up in photos. It’s a bit larger than a house cat and it has a bunch of eyes. It doesn’t look very dangerous, but the street lamp doesn’t work. It’s probably a coincidence haha” You sent the message along with a smiley emoji.

It was only a couple of minutes before you got a polite and straightforward response from Nanami. “If it’s not moving around, it should be harmless. Let me know if it does anything instead of sit there.”

“Got it!” You responded quickly after scanning through the message. Placing the phone down on your desk, you smiled and looked out the window at the cursed spirit. Even just a simple message from him had made your day so much brighter.

Then, the spirit’s eyes all aligned to meet with yours and you shivered internally at its creepiness. You shifted to stare at another streetlamp down the street, and in your peripheral you saw the eyes relax back to their neutral position.

“That was close,” You laughed to yourself. You went back to studying, your mood much brighter than before.

The weeks continued on like this, where you saw Nanami at the coffee shop, slowly growing more and more friendly with him. You enjoyed seeing him begin to warm up to you, after having such a stoic demeanor for months.

You looked forward to seeing him in the shop as much as he looked forward to seeing you, and as you became more vigilant for cursed spirits, his responses to your queries became less focused on the spirit and more on your safety when encountering one.

Of course, sometimes you would spot a rather large cursed spirit that seemed to be quite attentive and move around a lot, and his first response would be more along the lines of “where are you” and “are you safe” instead of simply asking what it looked like or what category of spirit it might be.

As you learned more about cursed spirits through Nanami, you also found some books in your university library under “fiction”, that was actually a textbook describing cursed spirits. As your knowledge grew, you became less afraid of the spirits. Nanami could tell, even through the texts.

You became enthralled with the entomology of curses and how they form, what they do, and how they’re categorized. Nearly every day, you would message Nanami with yet another question.

However, only a couple weeks later, Nanami called you on the phone. It was soothing to hear his voice while you were lounging on your bed, although he had important news. He had called to tell you that he was quitting his salaryman job and returning to Jujutsu Tech, to become a jujutsu sorcerer again. You had a feeling that he was beginning to lean towards this decision for a while, and although you were concerned for his safety, he reassured you several times over the phone that he wasn’t going to needlessly endanger his life in the job. Both of you agreed that if you had the ability to help others who couldn’t help themselves, then it would make the dangers worth it.

Nanami enjoyed the appreciation that you gave him whenever he helped you, even when he turned up with short notice to wherever you suddenly spotted a strange cursed spirit. He was honest to you that he missed that kind of appreciation that others gave him, and that he would be making a real difference in the world as a jujutsu sorcerer. You acknowledged him over the phone, but inwardly felt bad that you were likely a large factor in that decision.

In the coming weeks, you two grew closer. With Nanami now working at Jujutsu Tech, he could technically come help you with a cursed spirit since it was a part of his job. You two became even closer, sometimes sitting and chatting for long periods of time after you’d request his help. Nanami didn’t realize, but your company was beginning to change him.

~~~

One evening, when the message popped up on Nanami’s phone, “coffee noon tomorrow?” He wondered what it could be. His heart pounded faster when he first read the lines that most people would think was asking him on a date, but he calmed down when he realized that you must have yet another query that you wanted to speak about in person rather than over message.

As nanami tapped out of the chat box, he accidentally hit information at the top of his phone. There at the top of the page, it said 8,982 messages. He sighed at that number, his typical stoic personality taking over as he realized that this young girl was wasting so much of his time.

Then he wondered, was she really wasting his time if he enjoyed it?

The next day was a Saturday, so Nanami wasn’t wearing business attire. He was wearing a white button down shirt that was tucked in, no tie, and tan slacks. When you arrived, you had to do a double take because you had never seen him in his casual clothes. Your face went red out of embarrassment, just at the right time for Nanami to make eye contact with you. You quickly sat down at the table with him, apologizing for being late.

“It’s no problem. You’re only 2 minutes late.” Nanami responded. You inwardly smiled at his typical behavior. Nanami got straight to the point. “Why did you ask to meet?”

“Well, I wasn’t sure how you would take this over text…” You looked down, your face and tops of your ears turning red once again.

Nanami stared intently at you, his heart rate picking up as he raced through all of the possible reasons you would say that.

“Nanami-kun… I hit a cursed spirit, and it disappeared.” When you looked up, you saw that Nanami’s jaw had dropped slightly open from shock. “Uhmmm… Nothing in the textbook mentioned this, so I was wondering-”

“How big was it? Which hand did you hit it with?” You raised your left hand, and he grabbed it to carefully inspect the palm. When he was satisfied that it was unharmed, he looked up at you as you responded with the full story.

“It got into my room last night, because it was so hot I had the window open. It was the size of a butterfly, and I knew those were just annoying, so when it was flying near my face I swatted it, and it looked like it died… the way you exorcise one.” You looked down at your hand, and stretched out the palm before curling it again. You both knew that was not what happens to cursed spirits, especially when interacting with a human.

Nanami sighed. “Okay, let’s go outside then. If you can swat another and the same thing happens, we can go from there.” He hated this idea, but he needed to be certain that nothing was wrong. If he was there to watch you interact with the cursed spirit, he would be able to intervene if anything went wrong.

The two of you walked out of the shop since neither of you had the time to order anything yet. Walking in silence, you headed towards a nearby park that would certainly have several small spirits. It was a hot sunny day, and you shielded your eyes from the sun as you spotted a cursed spirit about the size of a basketball at the entrance of the park.

“You’re not touching that.” Nanami spoke curtly, knowing exactly what you were thinking of. Instead, he took you further into the park and into the shade of some trees. Small curses loved to hang out by the foliage, swooping down to let out small screeches that certainly annoyed the hell out of you over the past few months.

“Okay, go for one when it flies close.” He asked gently.

Your eyes locked onto a small one, about the size of a bat. Before it could react to the sight of you eyeing it down, your hand shot up and touched its torso with the tips of your fingers. Almost instantly, all of it seemed to be sucked into your fingers. It was so quick that you didn’t really notice what was really going on. However, Nanami could see perfectly clearly.

“That’s not an exorcism.” His voice was low. “That’s nothing I have seen before.” A look of deep contemplation crossed over his face as you didn’t quite understand the gravity of what you had just done.

“Do you think you can ask your colleagues about it or something then?” You asked excitedly, hoping to get the opinions of even more sorcerers.

“I think I’ll ask them to see you do exactly what you just did.” He responded. “Because they would not believe me if I told them myself.”

~~~

Read part 2 here.

[infernal-fire]

Reverse Uno Card

Warnings: angst, fluff, mention of cheating (no actual cheating)

Summary: Chris pranks you, but much to his surprise, you play a reverse uno card on him.

Word Count: 800

a/n: this was 100% inspired by @vannybarber’s Prank Backfired fic (which is linked, so please do check out her fic and her writing!)

Chris quietly looked down and grasped his hands firmly, holding them to his lap. The denim of his jeans scuffed against his couch as he shifted uncomfortably under your wordless gaze.

“I’ve wanted to tell you for a while, but I just-. It should have never happened, but I lost control and I-... I’m so sorry baby,” he muttered, still not meeting your eyes. 

“So you’ve been seeing her for how long?” you questioned, maintaining your stoic demeanour.

“2 months.”

It’s easy to assume that actors are excellent liars, but you know for a fact that Chris was the worst liar in the history of liars. He had possibly every tell in the book: sweating, red face, stuttering, not maintaining eye contact and the worst body language of all time. 

But for a split second, you wondered if he was telling the truth. You slightly panicked, only to be assured that was indeed lying, when he finally looked into your eyes. 

You had to give it to him - he was really selling it this time. Unfortunately for the talented actor, it was extremely uncharacteristic of him to do something like this, which meant regardless of the award-winning performance he was putting on right now, he will not be able to prank you.

“Well, then I guess you know what this means,” you replied casually. 

Chris, was intently staring at his hands, was now staring wide-eyed at you. 

“You’re not gonna talk this out? Ask me questions? Yell at me maybe?”

“What do you want me to say Chris?” You stood up, ready to play this off as a break-up, but in the moment, you had an idea. A damn evil idea but it was gonna be worth it. 

“I guess this would be a good time to tell you that I was cheating on you too,” you nonchalantly mentioned and continued walking away.

It took every fibre of your being to not laugh out loud at his expression, but if you were going to keep this up, you needed to walk away.

Stunned, Chris sat motionless as you strutted to his bedroom. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. The worst he anticipated was that you’d “break up” with him until he explained the joke. But he was completely blindsided and had no idea how to react. Be mad? Be sad? Or be glad that the truth came out?

He raced up to his room where you were now gathering your stray belongings. 

“Y/N?” he whispered, he voice crack alluding to the tears that were now steadily streaming.

You turned, letting out the most convincing sigh that you could muster. Seeing his now disheveled appearance, your resolve almost crumbled. 

He deserves it, you affirmed to yourself. There was no necessity for him to tell such an elaborate joke - no prank war, no misguided anger. Yet, he felt the need to drum up this cruel act; giving him a taste of his own medicine would teach him not to make you panic like this again. Now the question was, when are you going to stop the act?

“You cheated and I cheated. Seems like things just weren’t meant to be,” you shrugged and continued shoving things into a plastic bag.

Chris was at a loss for words. The weight of the world weighed on his shoulders as he sunk onto the floor and started openly bawling. 

“I was *sniff*, I was only kidding Y/N,” he cried. Your eyes went wide as you turned, taking in his shaking form. He was on his knees, weeping his eyes out. 

“I can’t believe you would cheat on me.” The whimper he let out quite literally cracked your heart. 

“Chris,” you cooed and made you way to wrap your arms around him. 

“Get out.” 

You tentatively stepped forward before seating yourself beside him and bringing his head to your chest. He weakly pushed at you, no apparent effort behind his actions.

“Go,” he mumbled, letting tiredness take over. 

“I didn’t cheat on you. I knew you were lying, so I just-... I just wanted to, you know, give you a taste of your own medicine. Sorry baby, I didn’t mean to take it so far.” 

You kissed the top of his repeatedly, now also on the verge of tears from seeing him cry. 

“You didn’t cheat?” he sniffled, trying to look up at your face now. 

You cupped his face and pressed a kiss into his head.

“No you silly. I would never. And I know you would never either.” You rested his head back on your chest and you both laid back onto the plush carpet floor. 

“But you’re a damn good actor and had me scared out of my mind for a second. Don’t do that again. No more pranks,” you added. 

“Yeah,” Chris wiped his face, letting out a content chuckle. “No more pranks.”

Masterlist

Tag List:  @partiesandblurrypolaroids @hitmewithyourbest-shot @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @bval-1 @quxxnxfhxll @sunflowerbunny2​

(Shoot me a message or fill out the form in my bio to be added to my tag list!)

Other tags: @mculibrary @honeyhan-123 @saiyanprincessswanie

[marvelousmarvelimagines]

Burn

Pairing - Sam Wilson x Reader

Summary - You knew that things were going to change the moment that Captain America walked into you and your boyfriend’s lives. You just hadn’t expected them to change so quickly. 

Word Count - 2.5k

Warnings - None except angst! But I promise it’s a happy ending! :)

Could you say that you didn’t see it coming? That you were blindsided? That you had never expected things to end this way? No. From the moment that Captain America had come knocking on the doorway of your apartment, you knew that things were about to change. 

You could admit that you hadn’t expected it to end so quickly after that. 

“I’ve got to go help him. I feel like . . . I’ve found what I’m supposed to do.” He told you, sitting across from you at your small dining room table. 

 “I thought working at the VA was your calling?” You asked. It was where the two of you had met. You had been working at the front desk there for years now. 

“This is different.” He replied, and you watched as his fingers tapped on the table. It was an anxious habit he had come back with from his two tours. “Captain America needs my help, and I can’t turn him down.” 

“Even if it means losing me?” You asked, your voice a whisper in the air passing between the two of you. 

There was silence for a long time after that. You knew this couldn’t be easy for him. The two of you had gone through so much together that letting each other go had always seemed an impossible thing to do. How would you survive? Even though Sam was the one sitting here, cutting the tie, you knew he was thinking the same thing. 

“Even if it means losing you.” Sam answered. 

And just like that, it was over. 

____________________

The first time you saw Sam Wilson after your break up was almost a year later. The forces of the Universe must have been against you, because it was while you were on a third date with a guy. It had been going okay, you always tried to give it at least three dates before you gave up, but you had a feeling it wasn’t going to go anywhere. 

You had a hard time finding any hope about a relationship these days. Not after you had lost the person you thought might have been your soulmate, but you couldn’t sit around your apartment feeling sorry for yourself. You knew he wasn’t. Every once in a while you would get a letter, a postcard, from somewhere across the country, but you never replied. How were you supposed to be getting over him if you were getting reminders of his presence all the time? 

He hadn’t sent a letter this month, so you assumed he had gotten the message, or was too busy saving the world, but then you saw him, sitting at a bar with Steve Rogers, and all the hurt came rushing back like a tidal wave. “Hey, um, can we go somewhere else?” You asked your date, hoping and praying he would say yes. 

“Why? I’ve got us a table reserved and everything.” He told you like it was a big deal, and he had pulled a lot of strings to do so. 

“It’s just my ex is here -” You started to explain, but he cut you off. 

“So?” He asked, giving you an annoyed look. 

Yeah, this relationship was definitely not going anywhere, but you didn’t want to be rude, knowing he had already driven to come into town, and shook your head. You took one more glance at Sam, who hadn’t noticed your presence, and you sighed. “Never mind.” 

This response seemed to please him. He smiled, and gestured toward a booth in the corner. “Go ahead and have a seat, I’ll get us some drinks.” 

It was not your night, that much was for sure. You rubbed your forehead, already feeling a stress headache coming on, and not looking forward to the next at least hour or so. You leaned against the back of the booth, closing your eyes and trying to focus on anything other than the man who you could feel from all the way across the room. You were so lost in thought you didn’t even notice the drink in front of you until your date spoke up. 

“I got you some red wine. I’m sure you’ll find it to your satisfaction.” He said, with a grin. 

You, on the other hand, wanted to grimace. “Oh, thank you.” You replied, once again, not wanting to be rude, and took a sip, trying to fight back a grimace. He was still standing there, and you knew he was assuming that you would scoot over so he would slide in beside you, but you had always thought that was so weird, so you didn’t move, pretending to focus on your glass until he finally sat down across from you. 

In fact, you didn’t even look at him until he cleared his throat, trying to grab your attention. “You look nice tonight.” 

Surprised, but pleased by the genuine compliment, you gave him a hesitant smile. “Thank you, you look -”

“I mean, I’m sure your hair would look nicer down, but -”

Wow. It really was going to be one of the worst dates of your life. 

“She looks great no matter how she wears her hair actually.” A voice interrupted, and your whole body tensed. 

You would recognize that voice anywhere, with the amount of times you had heard it, even though it had been a year since you had heard it in person. You tried to prepare yourself, but there was no way to do so. 

Sam Wilson was not a man you could look at without getting flustered. He looked as great as you remembered, cute smirk, strong jaw, soft eyes, but there was a hint of tiredness, along with something else you couldn’t put your finger on as he looked at you. You wondered what it was, but then decided to chalk it up to him seeing you for the first time in so long. You knew that you were definitely feeling shaken up looking at him, so you imagined he was too. 

Memories of your times together started to cloud your memory as you two stared at each other, and you had no idea how long you were looking at him until your date spoke up, clearing his throat unnecessarily loudly. “Excuse me, we’re on a date.” He spoke up. 

God had his voice always been that irritating, and you had never noticed? “Not a great one from the looks of it.” Sam said, never taking his eyes off of you. 

“Excuse me?!” 

Sam didn’t even spare him a glance. He lifted his arm, and in his hands was a bottle of your favorite beer. “Want to go for a walk?” He asked you, holding it out as an invitation. 

Oh this was a bad idea. A terrible idea. Sam stirred up a lot of emotions inside of you that you struggled to keep in check on a day to day basis. Being alone with him would only bring them to the surface. Not to mention you were on a date, no matter how terrible it was going, and it would be rude to - 

“For old time’s sake?” Sam added, as if he could see your wavering thoughts. 

Ah well, you knew this wasn’t going anywhere anyway. You took the drink from Sam, ignoring the sputtering man at the table, and followed him upstairs and outside to the balcony. 

The two of you sat in silence for several moments, staring out at the city beneath you. Since he had been the one to speak first, you felt like it was your turn, but at the same time, what were you supposed to say? How much you missed him? How sometimes you would wake up in the mornings and forget he was gone? How you had quit your job at the VA because the memories were too much? Sam had been the one to dump you to go on this grand adventure with Captain America. So why was he still sending you postcards and trying to talk to you now? 

“Why did you never write me back?” Sam said, breaking the silence. 

“Why did you keep writing to me when I didn’t?” You asked, avoiding his question as you took a sip of your beer. God that was so much better than red wine. 

“We were together for three years -” He started to say, but you cut him off. 

“Exactly, Sam. We were together until you decided to end it. Do you know how it felt getting those letters? It was like I was getting stabbed, over and over, and you were holding the knife.” You told him, anger rising in your chest. All you had wanted to do was try and get over him, yet here he was, trying to pull you back, like he had tried with those letters. 

When he replied, you could hear the frustration in his tone. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you! I just . . .” He trailed off, and you found yourself getting even more upset, wanting to know what he was about to say. 

“You just what?” You repeated, urging him on. When he didn’t respond again, you couldn’t take it anymore. You put your beer down on the table behind him. “You know what? Keep your beer. When you decide why you wanted to continue to make my life miserable, you can let me know.” You said, tears streaming down your face as you stormed off, doing your best not to look back. 

____________________

There were no more letters. Nothing to remind you that Sam Wilson existed at all until his face was plastered all over your television. 

Criminal, wanted by the government, treason, all scary words that didn’t fit the man that you knew and loved. You knew something wasn’t right, and you couldn’t help but worry about him no matter how hard you tried to forget him. 

Then one night, your phone rang, and when you answered, it was a familiar voice on the other end of the line. “Hey sweet girl.” 

The voice was filled with static, and you knew he couldn’t be calling from a good phone, and you had no idea how far away he was either, but there was no mistaking his voice. “Sam,” You sighed in relief, grabbing your pillow and hugging it close to your chest. “What the hell is going on? You’re all over the TV, and they’re calling you -”

Sam chuckled, like he always had when you started rambling. “Yeah, I bet I am. It’s a long story. I’ll tell you about it when I get back.” 

Those words sent a shock straight to your heart. “When you get back -”

“I guess if I come back.” He replied, and in seconds, your anxiety multiplied. 

“Sam . . .” Your voice was calm even though you were not. “What are you doing?” 

“There’s this guy . . . Big, alien guy. We have to take him out, or it’s going to be real bad.” He said, and your fingers tightened their grip on the pillow you were holding. “If something happens, I wanted to answer your question.” 

“My question?” What question? You hadn’t talked to him in so long. What could he have to tell you - 

“I didn’t send those letters to hurt you.” Sam said, and you didn’t dare interrupt him. “I sent them because about one minute after I walked out of our apartment, I realized how bad I messed up.” There was a pause as he waited to see if you had anything to say, but you couldn’t speak. “It thought if I sent you those letters, I would keep you thinking about me. Now I know how selfish that was. This whole damn thing is selfish, but if something happens to me, I wanted you to know I still-”

“Shut up.” You cut him off before he could say anything else, taking a deep breath and forcing yourself to hold back your tears. “Don’t say another word until you come back here and can say it in person.” You demanded. 

There was silence on the other end of the phone for a few moments, but when he spoke, you could almost hear the grin in his voice. “Yes, ma’am.” There was a loud rumble of noise from his end, and when he spoke, his tone was serious once more. “I’ve got to go.” 

“Sam?” You said, stopping him from hanging up. “Please be careful.” 

____________________

Five years had passed in what felt like the blink of an eye. For you, it basically had been. One moment you had been standing in line for some takeout, hoping that at any moment your phone would start vibrating against your hip, and Sam would be calling you to tell you that he was on his way. The next you had popped up in the exact same place, that was now deserted, half the people that had been there with you materializing as well. All of you were equally confused, and it took awhile for everyone to realize what had happened. 

In about a week, you were busy moving all of your stuff into a new apartment since your old one was now occupied. Everything had been put down in their various rooms when there was a knock on your door. Letting out a groan, you stood up off the couch, assuming you had forgotten something, and made your way over to the door, not even bothering to see who was on the other side before opening it. 

“Hey,” Sam Wilson said, appearing at your doorway as if it was the most normal thing in the world. 

All your emotions came rushing back in a tidal wave, and you threw your arms around his neck, clutching him close to you. At once, he wrapped his own arms around you, hugging you even tighter against his chest. “You’re alive.” You murmured against his skin. You hadn’t known, and you didn’t even know who you could call to find out. 

“I had a promise to keep, didn’t I?” Sam replied, walking you backwards into your new apartment and shutting the door behind him without letting even an inch of space between the two of you. 

“But Sam . . .” You pulled back enough so that you could look into his eyes. “There’s so much going on right now . . . don’t they need you to -”

“They can wait. I’m not wasting any more time away from you.” He said, one of his large hands reaching up to cup your face. “Nothing’s been right since I’ve walked away, and I want to change that right now.” 

Tears started filling up your eyes as he spoke, one of your hands reaching up to hold the one that was against your face. “Sam . . .” 

“I love you.” He said, “and I’m never going to forget how much again.” 

The logical part of your brain said that you needed to make him prove it. See him grovel, all the normal things that a person wishes for after a break up. After all, what assurances did you have that the next time Sam wanted to go on a big adventure, the same thing wouldn’t happen again? 

Your heart, on the other hand, knew Sam Wilson like nothing else. Yes, the possibility was there that he would hurt you again, but the sincerity in his eyes was obvious, and besides . . . 

Maybe it was worth it. Just to keep loving Sam for a little while longer. 

“I love you too,” You replied, leaning up on your tiptoes to kiss him for the first time in a long time.

It was worth every second apart.

[sirtwentyofhousegoodmen]

Prompt: Arcturus at the birth of Sirius

November 3, 1959

"Pacing like a madman isn't going to make this go by any faster, boy."

Orion—dutiful as always—only nodded at the pointed remark from his father, eliciting a light sneer from the patriarch.

Honestly—not a hint of anger, nor even frustration at the jibe. Arcturus almost savoured the day when his son would finally tell him what he truly thought of him, but, rather like the boy Walburga was currently bringing into the world—it was slow to come.

As always, all the men of the black family were gathered in the drawing room, smoking cigars and drinking brandy. Cygnus was looking positively sloshed, no doubt because this boy that was being born was meant to remedy his own mistake in siring only daughters. Alphard was as inscrutable as always, damned vagabond. Pollux was red-cheeked and merry, oblivious to his son's misery, puffing on his cuban with the utmost gusto.

This was what was left of the Black Family.

He was starting to see some truth to all his grandfather's curmudgeonly ranting.

Orion's pacing grew all too wearisome after a few more minutes, and Arcturus found himself at his limit.

"By Salazar, boy—sit down!"

Orion turned to him, a shocked look on his face before acqueiscing. Arcturus didn't fail to notice the tense jaw.

Good. Let the boy stew a bit more—only a matter of time before he finally grew a spine.

The occasion was bittersweet for Arcturus. On the one hand, Orion's marriage to his abominable cousin finally producing something of worth was cause for celebration—on the other, it showed just how far the Black family had fallen.

All their hopes hinged on an infant boy—it was difficult not to be bitter about the fact. And with his brother Regulus's death just a few months before, it had put the Black patriarch in a foul mood that hadn't ceased since. Only Melania knew how to navigate his temper now, and even her subdued manner grated every now and then.

As if on cue, the aforementioned woman burst into the drawing room, dress slightly disheveled and bags under her eyes speaking of tiredness.

His poor wife—to have to manage twenty-seven hours of Walburga's screeching. He would get her a gift one of these days—perhaps that rare orchid she was eyeing when they went to Nott Manor. She'd never said much about it, but Melania didn't say much about anything. One had to read between the lines with her, and even then the woman's emotions were as mysterious as the day was long.

"A boy, dear—practically perfect in every way!" She beamed, then walked over to where Orion sat, shell-shocked at the news, and kissed him on the cheek.

"Well," Arcturus groaned as he stood—one of these days he might very well need a cane, his leg had been killing him these last few months. "Best not dawdle—let's go see my grandson, Orion. Unless, you wish for me to wait until after you've seen him first?"

Orion turned to him, then after a moment's hesitation, shook his head deferentially. "Of course not, father—you're more than welcome to see him with me."

For God's sake boy, anything! Call me miserable, tell me I'm a bastard, one sign of dissent to show you've a man's spine!

Rather than voice this, Arcturus merely harrumphed in dissapointment and followed Orion out of the drawing room, all the way up the stairs. The walk was—like much of their meetings—silent and uncomfortable, punctuated by the mutterings of the portraits as they went by.

Reaching the door of the room Walburga was in, Orion dallied for just a second before finally collecting himself and opening the door.

When they entered, Walburga was quite obviously miffed with her husband for allowing his decrepit old father to push him into coming along with him. Honestly, you'd think he was still in the nursery sometimes, yanking on his father's pant-leg for the slightest bit of attention!

"Orion," she greeted, smiling in a manner best described as murderous. She turned her flinty gaze to the elder. "Arcturus."

"Walburga," Arcturus nodded back. "I'm here to see my grandson. Or do you intend to hide the boy away forever?"

Her eyes narrowed, giving her smile an even more brittle quality to it. "Certainly not. Please, Arcturus," she emphasized the name, shooting her husband a glare for good measure, "Come meet our son."

Orion approached her warily, as if she were Mephistopheles himself, whilst Arcturus had no such compunctions and walked forward confidently to the bed.

When he caught sight of the boy, he smiled.

Black hair, aquiline nose, grey eyes—A perfect Black specimen. Perhaps Walburga wasn't the worst choice for Orion—Nightmare she may have been, she had little of the Crabbe looks aside from her eyes appearing blue in a certain light. Orion, on the other hand, looked more a Macmillan than some of his cousins who actually bore the name. Their son was a testament to Black genetics—bearing the name on both sides, as well as the looks.

Arcturus nodded, an approving gleam in his eyes as he took in his first grandson. "The boy's every inch a Black. Fine job, the both of you. You especially, Orion."

Walburga looked mightily offended at Orion being given extra commendations, seeing as how she'd just spent twenty-seven hours bringing the newest black heir into the world—but her husband either didn't notice or didn't care as he stuttered over his thanks for his father's first compliment in what must've been five years.

"Thank you, father." Orion turned back to the boy, all his focus on his son, and a smile that could be called tender growing on his face. "He's perfect, Walburga."

Her face softened at that, and she even allowed herself a small smile at her husband. "Would you like to hold him?"

Orion nodded, gleefully, before taking hold of his son as if he were made of the most delicate china in the world. He gazed down at the boy lovingly, smiling like a madman at every coo and fuss that came from the boy as if he couldn't believe he were real.

"What will you name him?" Arcturus asked, breaking his son out of his downright womanish fussing after allowing him a generous amount of it.

Orion's smile grew larger, if anything, and he stared up at Arcturus hopefully.

"Sirius," Orion said, and Arcturus felt as if someone had poured a bucket of cold water over his head. "For my grandfather."

"You didn't even know your grandfather," Arcturus said, half an accusation. Orion heard the harsh tone and flinched, caught completely blindsided.

"I meant to honour him," Orion replied, nervously.

"If you'd known him, you'd know he wasn't a man to honour or emulate in the least." Arcturus fired back, an anger and resentment he'd stewed over since he was nine years old bubbling to the surface.

"Orion meant it for your father," Walburga said, each word coming out through gritted teeth. "But I was the one who chose it—and I had your great-uncle in mind."

Arcturus blinked. "Ah, well then I suppose it's not too," he shifted his feet, uncomfortably, "bad a choice. Let me see Sirius then, Orion—or do you mean to hog him forever?"

Orion, snapping out of his hurt, nodded fervently and placed the boy into his father's arms, hovering over his back as if anticipating his fall.

Arcturus evaluated the boy closer, and he saw it—those eyes. Black they were, but he could see the impudence in them from a mile away. The baby, oblivious to his grandfather's test, reached up and yanked a hair off his mustache.

"Ow!"

Orion rushed forward and took the baby out of his incensed grandfather's arms, hushing its giggles as if worried his father would take even more offense to them.

"Impertinent little—," He sighed, running a hand over his face.

"Father, I—"

"It's not a problem, Orion," Arcturus replied, spitting out every word with the utmost venom. "I'd only suggest watching the boy in future—there's an impudence there that I like not."

Orion looked at Arcturus as if he'd grown two heads, but nodded. Walburga, in the corner, looked to be trying to muffle a fit of cackles with her pillow.

Impertinent whelp.

[forgottenluck]

Her quick winded explanation grates on his ears, forcing him into more coherency than he's prepared for. He remembered that Yukari had said she wanted to help him....but he hadn't expected her to go so far. Sure, belief was something that he needed, but it seemed like she got the wrong idea that any sort of belief would work....Ah.

He could fix that later.

Right now, he had to somewhat salvage this situation. And somehow get out of this without being touched.

Like a switch, there's a grin on his face and he looks far more lively than he just did a few moments earlier. It was like the exhaustion and tiredness didn't exist at all, and he shifted the blanket to look a little bit more like a coat than it had just a second earlier.

After all, what would he be, if not good at a lie? he was a Kitsune, after all.

"My my, what has my little mouse brought me?" His tone is even more chipper, and he puts a hand on his chin as he leans forward a bit. "This was not what I was expecting at all after getting back from my trip. Seems like someone was busy~" He gave a laugh, eyeing Yukari out of the corner of his eye.

His attitude had become flamboyant, such a difference from what he'd been not moments before, it was hard to believe this was the same person.

He leaned forward a little bit more, giving the girls a wink.

"Just between you and me, ladies, I'm not too fond of being blindsided. I'll let it slide today, but you really ought to make appointments next time. I'm tooootally not prepared for this, you aren't even seeing me at my best!"

@forgottenluck

A sluggish flick of an ear was the response she got from her sitting down beside him. True enough, he was definitely the warmest thing around.....but it wouldn't be for long. Not with how cold things had gotten. As such, her words don't exactly register for the first few moments. He's blinking owlishly at her, not really comprehending. How could he really understand what she meant? What she'd done? Then slowly they sank in, and his face twisted from bland tiredness to confusion. Followers? That was something he hadn't thought about recently.....tried not to think about. Hunched in an empty dead shrine made that hard, but he did try not too. Now she was bringing it up again and....Wait....

"What....?" Oh so eloquently the word tumbled out, his grip on the blanket around his shoulders slacking slightly as he tried to make sense of her words. "......wait....that.....what...what have you done?! What did you say?! I can't--" If he were any sort of electronic, there'd be a weird error dial up noise coming from him. As it stood, he was not....but there was a strange little squeak that came from him. Of course she had to drop this on him now. Now when he couldn't really form illusions and keep himself coherent and solid for very long.

Oh, this is bad. Bad, bad. Maybe the worst yet.

And it's all her fault. Yet, if she's understood anything he's told her… maybe there's some salvaging the situation?

She groans when he asks more questions than there's time to answer, but tries in a hurry:

"Just that you were a street fashion photographer and an avid part-time cosplayer who likes to actively roleplay that he's a fox god of fortune with adoring minions sustaining him with their undying love and faith??"

She gasps, slightly out of breath. But yeah, it became a bit convoluted. And weird. Like every damn thing in her life right now. Luckily nobody even cared what Yukari had to say anymore once she showed them the photo she'd snuck of Koun outside the shrine back in the summer.

"Now they're all obsessed with meeting you to see if you're even real! Nothing's more potent than the fervor of a young girl's heart!! But - well." She grimaces, ever the more breathless and desperate to make this right. Or at least for it to not go so wrong. "You said all you needed was belief, right...?"

A sense of gloom pervades as the presence grows nearer. Yukari refreshes her composure and thinks quickly; they could try and hide his ears. She has a scarf to spare, but that'd look weird. "J-just play along!" She whimpers, the final sincere thing said before they're surrounded by a swarm of curious, squealing girls in Gekkoukan High uniforms.

One girl: "Oh my goood, Yukari! He's way hotter in person! I thought that pic was photoshopped to hell or something, but damn..."

Yukari laughs nervously. Internally, she's begging her persona for strength. And air.

A second, pigtails: "Like, those clip-on ears are soo freaking cute!! Can I pet them?"

Uh oh, dangerous. Yukari bats that hand away before this attempt can reach the halfway point towards Koun’s head, glaring at her classmate. She'd warned them about not touching.

A third, wide-eyed and wielding a DoCoMo: "Can we take a photo together??"

Before this request can usher in further pandemonium, Yukari stands up, skirt fluttering with the motion. "Ladies, please! He just got back from a strenuous photo-op. Ahem. Line up. One at a time. Mind the no-touching rule and remember, in character! All of you. You'd better be believable, or no photos!"

Turning around to glimpse Koun, she pleads with her eyes for him to play along - and, maybe to not hate her too much for this, however ridiculous it's become...

[le-amewzing]

Halfway Confidants

It was so nice to know that, within their circle of friends, someone else ships Ellick, too. XDDD

Fic: "Halfway Confidants" [FFN] [AO3]

Pairings/Characters: pre-Nick Torres/Ellie Bishop

Rating: K

Words: ~1,260

Additional info: romance, friendship, 3rd person POV

Summary: After Ziva's dramatic come-and-go, Torres and Bishop grab a bite and attempt to have a heart-to-heart.

               They'd each eaten half of their respective dinners. By now, they were picking at what remained while the diner emptied of other patrons, and Torres was trying to figure out if his missing appetite were rubbing off on Bishop, if something else Ziva-related were amiss and she had yet to tell him, or…if maybe these last few days had caught up with them finally and tiredness at last had set in.

               As if Bishop knew where his mind had gone, she yawned, punctuating the action with a grin. "And here I thought I wouldn't be able to sleep, given everything that's happened. But meeting Ziva in person at last—she more than lives up to her journal entries and Odette's tall tales." She paused and rolled her eyes. "Although I guess calling them 'tall tales' isn't correct when they all turn out to be true…"

               Torres snorted and picked up another fry from his plate. "Can't blame you for thinking they might be fables, though. Sure, McGee and Palmer have told us Ziva stories of their own over the years, but still. Every time I heard one, I half expected this woman to be a figment of their collective imagination."

               "Preach." Bishop scrunched her nose up at the waffle fries on her plate and reached across to pluck a straight-cut one from Torres'. "What?" she asked, eyes wide like a kid who knew she'd been caught red-handed when he settled her with a dry stare.

               "I keep telling you, don't order the waffle fries; they go cold long before you can finish them. But just ask Elaine to reheat them instead of stealing off my plate, you fry thief."

               Bishop cocked her head to one side, offering no rebuttal. Heck, her eyebrows rose a little, as if to remind him that he didn't really mind her swiping fries.

               He didn't, but still. Either way, Torres shook his head and wondered if they'd be up for much more than fries or other junk food. "I still feel a little bit blindsided by this case," he thought aloud.

               She groaned. "I'm not going to be done apologizing for a while yet, am I?"

               Torres frowned and glanced at her. "Don't worry. You're not the only one at fault. I was the last one to know about Ziva's return, and probably for good reason. Still, I'mma lean on you and McGee for a while yet." He eased into a grin. "Milk this for all it's worth."

               Bishop huffed. "Nick…don't. As you said, we were trying to contain knowledge of Ziva's presence for good reason." She paused and chewed on her lower lip. "To be honest, I don't really get the sense that this Sahar business is over with, anyway…"

               He didn't comment. The thought had crossed his mind, too, that Sahar's almost-capture and subsequent death had been too easy. And he'd been with this team long enough now to know that they didn't deal in "easy."

               "But back to my main point," Bishop said, bringing Torres' attention back to her when she pushed their food aside and sat up straighter so they were closer to eye level in their booth. "I didn't ask to hold Ziva's secret, Nick. I didn't ask to have one to stumble across, either, you know."

               "No, I know. You're just too good at your job," he mumbled, slightly huffy.

               Her cheeks took on a tinge of color, but she plowed on. "It's not fun, holding on to secrets and then running around at other people's whims, you know."

               "Well, at least Odette's done contacting you and Ziva knows she can come straight to us—or to Gibbs again, at least," he quipped.

               Bishop was quiet. Torres pretended that he hadn't seen her freeze when he said that, and he decided he'd worry some other night over which part tripped her up.

               "How about this?" he offered with a soft, tired smile.

               "Yeah?"

               "We could always try to make a promise to be completely honest with each other from here on out…"

               Bishop furrowed her brow.

               "…but, let's be real, that's unreasonable to expect." He shrugged.

               She gave him half a smile, too. "So…what? We just…try harder to be more honest?"

               "It's fair. Given our work, your stubbornness—"

               "Pot calling the kettle black," Bishop interjected.

               "—full honesty is something to strive for, but we don't have to beat ourselves up for not admitting everything right away. And," Torres added, "we don't have to lord it over each other, either."

               Bishop hummed in response while she mulled his idea over. Eventually, she grinned, wider, more appreciatively. "Is this your roundabout way of forgiving me?"

               "For the Ziva thing, yeah, but not—hey!" But Torres could only pull a face when Bishop, having regained her appetite, chose to finish his burger instead of her BLT.

               But she wasn't completely greedy. She broke off a bit, fed it to him, and wiped off her fingers before asking, "So where to from here?"

               Torres sighed. "Hopefully no more covert missions for a while—I was starting to get used to the steady stream of casework until Ziva David popped up…"

               Bishop snickered. "Oh, come on. You're a little star-struck by her."

               "Am not. Remember: I let her win that staged fight." And Torres realized a beat late that he'd slipped up right after things were right between him and Bishop once more.

               "That reminds me!" Bishop blinked at him, the curiosity evident in her big, brown eyes. "I mean, you two are pretty evenly matched, so it probably wouldn't be a problem, but—were you guys chatting while you fought?"

               Torres scoffed in an effort to clear a weird lump in his throat. "What? Nooo. Who the heck chats while fighting? Even when it's fake." He pulled another face and tried to shrug it off.

               "Oh, my God, you totally were. Only you would manage to shoot the breeze while pulling off a fight that convincing."

               Well, at least she sounded impressed.

               "What even would you have to chat about with her while fighting?"

               Torres froze. Ziva's words still rang clear as day in his head—"Tell her how you feel"—but no way in hell was he going to tell Bishop. He'd honestly had Bishop in mind when suggesting they only try to share more with each other from now on; it hadn't occurred to him that that was also for his own self-preservation.

               Bishop eyed him for a minute. Then she reached across the table and patted his arm. If the same thoughts occurred to her, the same half-promise they'd just made came to mind, she didn't say. "Eh, there are bigger things on our radar," she declared.

               He jumped on the topic switch. "Yeah?"

               She nodded. "First Ziva comes back. Who knows what's next? We've gotta be extra careful."

               "Making Ziva a harbinger of doom? Pretty dark of you, Ellie." He raised his eyebrows at her.

               "It's one promise I'm good making: Watch your six a little better, yeah?"

               "And you'll do the same?"

               Bishop smiled. "I'll watch mine and watch yours in my spare time."

               Torres laughed. "I think I can make you the same promise," he agreed.

               And he meant it. Fending off mortal danger was a far easier task than admitting anything else, was an easier thing to do than saying…that thing Ziva insisted he say. Besides, they say that showing is better than telling, so if he could take a bullet for Bishop, then it'd all work out in the end…right?

:') Well! Some more fluff. -w- Tbqh, I'm just tackling a small list of old s17 fic ideas bc I was already having A Year™ in 2019 before 2020 hit, *lol*, and I'm still a little bummed that I never posted anything for NCIS in 2020…but, alas, life happens. When s17 debuted, tho, Ziva kinda giving Ellick a little kick in the pants made my heart squeeze, and then sooo much happened for these two throughout the season, and I still think of s17 (and s16) fondly for them while I watch s18 these days. :'D The premise of this, that eventual honesty, is smthg I've written about in fics for my other fandoms, and it's smtgh I truly believe in; you can't force 100% honesty from your partner, but let it happen naturally btwn you two and good things will happen. -w- (Or am I just a romantic, *lol*.) Anyway! I enjoy writing Ellick interaction and banter and flirting bc the actors just do it so naturally that it's easy for me as a writer to get down on the page…now I just need the artist side of me catch up and produce more fanart! XD Also: The editor in me always wins out—sometimes a fic or paragraph or line you think is far too rough actually is totally fine and just needs a little bit of polishing when you come back to it a few days or a week later, *lol*. Always edit your stuff, folks! You'll be happier with your writing in the end, honest.

Thanks for reading, and feel free to leave an anon/unsigned review via the FFN link or comment via the AO3 link at the top of the post, especially if you enjoyed this!

~mew

[silverskye13]

Hurt and comfort maybe? Gaster comforting Grillby? If you want to do something else go ahead, anything with those dummies will be perfect :D

Lavender’s Blue

I’m on a roll with the wartime stuff so I hope you don’t mind it being based sometime during all that jazz!

Grillby wakes up after a battle, wounded but in the arms of someone he loves.

“Lavender’s blue, dilly dilly

Lavender’s green

When you are King, dilly dilly

I shall be Queen…”

The world gave a mighty lurch over a pothole in the road, jolting Grillby awake from the painful haze of his half-sleep. He gasped, breath wincing in a soft cry of pain as the aching of his wounds reawakened themselves. But no sooner was he aware of his misery was he suddenly washed in a familiar easing glow. He became aware of the soft, comforting touch of healing magic and an incredible, soothing, blooming glow like gentle sunlight. He sighed and relaxed into the softness of what he now recognized as a familiar embrace.

“Lavender’s green, dilly dilly

Lavender’s blue

You must love me, dilly dilly

‘Cause I love you…”

“... Gaster?”

The softly hummed song meandered itself to an end as Grillby let himself awaken more fully. He was in a wagon he realized. The covered kind that wheeled monsters to medical tents and - with any luck - safety. Grillby was curled up in Gaster’s lap in one of the corners of the shuddering cart, the skeleton yawning tiredly as he held him close. The thought crossed Grillby’s mind to try to raise himself from where he rested against Gaster’s chest and shoulders, but there was a deep exhaustion holding him still, and even deeper, the ache in his core that let him know he was wounded - an ache that was lessened now because of the movement of the cart stabilized itself a bit.

“You should rest,” Gaster murmured.

He should be resting. Yes, that made a good deal of sense. And with the comfort in his soul and the exhaustion he felt, it would be so easy to slip back off into another fretful haze of rest, even if true sleep eluded him. 

“What happened?”

“You don’t remember?”

The cart jostled hashly again and Grillby gave a hearty wince as every ache in his body cried awake in response. Somewhere else in the wagon he heard a few more muted cries of wounded monsters, all discomforted by the roughness of the road.

“You got separated from the rest of the unit,” Gaster said, his voice sounding distantly tired, like he hadn’t slept since the aforementioned battle, “I couldn’t find you.”

Yes… yes that was familiar. Grillby remembered that now. He remembered charging recklessly onto the battlefield, trying to keep firm in the pandemonium of the fighting. He remembered getting himself blindsided and beaten off the trail, the flashing lights of a mage’s staff. He remembered - Grillby’s fist knotted the fabric of his shirt as though it could ease the ache underneath.

“I turned my back for what, two minutes? And you almost got yourself killed,” it was the sort of thing Gaster might normally say as a joke, but now Grillby recognized it rang hollow, strained with the gravity of his concern, “That’s record timing Firefly.”

“I like to keep you on your toes.”

“You scared the death right out of me.”

“The longer to live with then.”

Grillby looked up at his worryingly stoic companion who hadn’t once glanced down at him since he’d began speaking. There was an estranged sort of tiredness to him, Grillby thought, the aftermath of a deep, panicked sort of worry that he hadn’t been conscious to see.

“Thank you for saving me,” Grillby sighed, letting his head rest comfortably again on Gaster’s chest.

“Of course.”

The cart gave another particularly hard bump as it trundled over another hole in the road, jolting the monsters inside so harshly even Gaster flickered a grimace at the movement. Grillby felt the movement like a heavy kick to the ribs. Stars crossed his vision briefly and he let out a pathetic sort of cry. It wasn’t for another several minutes that the bloom of pain finally passed and Grillby could once again make sense of his surroundings - sense enough to register that Gaster was talking to him.

“ - shouldn't be too much longer until we make it to camp Grillby, I promise,” he was murmuring, his gaze intent and miserable as he stared down at him, “I know it’s miserable, but I promise we’ll be there soon.”

Grillby nodded, feeling a bit dizzy when he did so. He managed to raise a hand up to entwine his fingers with Gaster’s, squeezing the skeleton’s hand reassuringly. Gaster squeezed it back.

“I wish I knew stronger healing magic,” the Gaster sighed, “Then I could actually help.”

“Ah well,” Grillby flashed him a wane smile, “If you could do all that with everything else you do, I think the gods might find you too threatening.”

Gaster laughed.

“How about you make it up to me by singing again?” Grillby raised Gaster’s hand up to his mouth and kissed it, flashing another smile up at him, “You’ve got a beautiful voice.”

“You’re in quite a good mood for someone with ice stuck somewhere in their chest.”

“It’ll help me get some rest?”

Gaster huffed out a sigh, smiling warmly even as he rolled his eyes in mock annoyance, “You’re insufferable.”

“You’re the one who volunteered to sit with me.”

For a moment the both of them lapsed into silence, Grillby looking up expectantly at the soft smile on Gaster’s face as the skeleton’s gaze grew distant. Injuries aside, Grillbyhad to admit he liked this, just being held in Gaster’s arms as the wagon trundled them uncomfortably away to safety. He traced the edges of Gaster’s face while the skeleton thought, committing every ridge and crack to memory. The curve of his jaw, the softly pale hues of his eyes, the way his magic seemed to color him in the pleasantness of his mood.

Quietly, humming at first, Gaster began to sing again. He sang about lavenders and their colors, and their kings and their queens. And then he sang about beautiful dreamers, and their starlights and their dewdrops and all other of their fanciful things. And Grillby rested his head on Gaster’s shoulder, letting himself be soothed and rocked and gently sang to, until he fell asleep once again. And while he slept Gaster traced patterns on his arms and the side of his face, his touch soft and light as he moved.

Eventually Grillby would awake in a tent somewhere with someone offering him green magic to heal for him what the restful sleep hadn’t. And he would awake to Gaster asleep near the side of his cot, keeping watch for him even while he was in one of the safest places he could be. And he would still have the edge of a song fluttering about in the clearing fog of his clinging dreams.

“Lavender's blue, dilly dilly,

Lavender's green

When you are King, dilly dilly,

I shall be Queen

Lavender’s green dilly, dilly

Lavender’s blue

You must love me, dilly, dilly

‘cause I love you.

Who told you so, dilly dilly,

Who told you so?

'Twas my own heart, dilly dilly,

That told me so.”

[fromdecemberwithlove]

She sat at the kitchen table nursing a large cup of now lukewarm tea. Her unfocused eyes were far away, looking beyond the dark apartment, as her foggy mind still clung to the tattered remains of her nightmare. 

Or more like nightmares.

It had been a while since she’d had that particular medley of sinister and cold foreboding visions grip her in her sleep and throw her into a distorted version of her past. Most days, the scars on her body didn’t even remind her of anything except for the fact that they had all fought bravely and lived to savor each day of their earned and well-deserved freedom.

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. She didn’t like feeling like this—like she was suddenly back in time and waiting for the other shoe to drop; waiting for things to take a wrong turn, waiting for danger to blindside her and obliterate the life she’d made for herself. She’d spend a few years after the war feeling that way—on edge and paranoid. PTSS had been a long exhausting battle, one she had emerged from victorious but it seemed that, tonight at least, she was losing.

She didn’t even know why it had happened. Everything was fine—her job was great, her friends were great, her parents were still on the other side of the planet but they were great and things with Draco were…

Hermione frowned.

Her brain failed to finish that thought, as if it couldn’t come up with the right words. Weren’t things with Draco great? Last night had been fine, conversation at dinner hadn’t flowed as usual but they’d both been tired. And although they hadn’t made love, the simple act of sleeping next to him always filled her with a deep-seated contentment. 

She was missing something. 

When was the last time they’d made love? She surmised that after five years together, and busy fulfilling careers, things were bound to slow down a bit but she really couldn’t remember the last time.

Was it a month ago? Two months? Was it before she left for Prague or after he’d come back from Oslo? She couldn’t for the life of her remember.

She remembered other times just fine. In fact, a number of those times had taken place in the very room she was in, some on the exact chair she was sitting on and others on the same table her elbows rested on. But recent memory was devoid of any vestige of such events.

So what if they hadn’t connected that way in a while? It didn’t make sense for her to be having nightmares again over that. It wasn’t like she was sexually frustrated, she didn’t have time to be sexually frustrated, work was hectic and she’s been stressed out and…

What about him though? He’d been just as busy with his own responsibilities, flying all over Europe for this meeting or that conference but did he feel like she was shutting him out?

Did he feel like they were drifting apart?

Were they drifting apart?

The thought hit her like a ton of bricks. A horrible sense of dread coiled in the pit of her stomach and her heart squeezed painfully as panic flooded her bloodstream. The urge to know what he thought made her want to run back to bed and shake him awake to ask him.

She was about to push the chair and do just that when the overhead lights of the kitchen came on, blinding her. And as if she’d summoned him somehow, he was there.

“What are you doing in the dark?”

She squinted at him, “turn it down.”

He dimmed the lights to a soft yellow hue.

“Sorry,” he moved to stand next to her side, looking down at her with concern. “Are you okay? Why are you here at,” he checked the clock on the wall, “three in the morning?”

She reached up, taking his left hand and lacing her fingers with his. His hand was cold. His hands were always cold. She used to tease him about it. When did she forget that his hands were always cold?

She sighed, feeling incredibly sad. The panic had abided at having him next to her, his mere presence comforting but her heart still felt heavy.

“Nightmare,” she muttered. His free hand reached up to cup her face, his thumb caressing the curve of her cheek gently.

“You want to talk about it?”

Sleep was slowly receded from his eyes and she knew his offer to listen to whatever was haunting her was genuine. Because they’d done this before, countless times, at this very table— him finding her lost in the dark; her finding him shaking in the dark. They’d done this almost every night, at one point, after sleep became too restless and cruel to bear.

Hermione shook her head. They needed to talk, but not about the nightmares. The ghosts of her past that still lurked in the recess of her mind were nothing compared to the possibility of her present turning into one.

“No, it’s okay,” she answered looking at their joined hands. Her question was on the tip of her tongue but she couldn’t bring herself to ask it just yet.

“Are you sure?” he lifted her chin with his knuckles, forcing her to look at him.

She turned her face and kissed the inside of his wrist. “I’m sure.”

His silver eyes softened and a small affectionate smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Do you want to come back to bed?”

“Not yet.”

He nodded then he dragged her to her feet and sat instead in the chair before pulled her sideways onto his lap. Their hands were still locked together and she run her thumb across his wrist while he nuzzled her neck, leaving soft kisses on her bare shoulder. They sat in confortable silence for a while, quietly savoring each other’s presence.

“It’s been a while since we’ve done this,” he said after a moment.

She hummed, not surprised they would be thinking the same thing.

“I missed this,” he continued then turned his face to look at her, “I miss you.”

She shifted on his lap to grab his face and the look in his eyes…

It stopped her heart, it stole her breath. It was the silent answer to that question she lacked courage to ask.

She’d seen that same look at diner—fleeting, while she was looking at the menu and looked up when she felt him staring at her. But it had vanished before she could dwell on it and she’d simply dismissed it as tiredness by the time the first course arrived. But her subconscious had clearly noticed and sent her nightmares so she would remember, so she would see that something wasn’t right.

“I’m sorry,” she said, guilt marring her brow, regret clenching her chest. “I know, I haven’t been present this past months and—”

“We haven’t been present this past months”, he corrected. “This isn’t on you alone, it takes two to make a relationship work.”

She wanted to kiss him and that wonderful mouth of his.

And so she did.

“After this case is done, I promise to take a week off,” she said her forehead against his.

It was his turn to kiss her.

“What do you want to do?” his free hand dragged lazily along her arm, “we could go somewhere? Florence?”

She thought about it. They’d talked about Florence last year but…

“I don’t really want to go anywhere,” she said watching her fingers play with his hair. She hadn’t done that in what felt like year now. Then her eyes met his, “I’d rather stay here, just the two of us and ignore the rest of the world.”

He pulled their joined hands to his and kissed her knuckles, mirroring her earlier gesture.

“Sounds perfect.”

“We can go there another time,” she offered, kissing his jaw. “Or maybe Vienna?”

His hand drew abstract shapes on her back over the fabric of her shirt.

“Maybe go back to Paris? I know you’re not fond of the place but…” she shrugged.

He smirked and she realized she hadn’t seen that expression on his face in so long.  A pang of longing gripped her chest. How hadn’t she realized how much she’d missed him, missed everything about him.

“As long as you’re with me, I’ll go anywhere you want,” before adding with a long suffering sigh, “even sodding Paris.”

Her chest swelled with warmth and adoration and love.

She bit his bicep playfully and he made a show of yelping.

She rolled her eyes.

“Paris has nice memories,” she countered.

He nodded, his fingers drifting along her exposed thigh.

“Like that little piano bar we stumbled across,”

“We didn’t stumble across it as much as ducked inside because of all that fucking rain,”

She laughed. At least that was something she hadn’t forgotten—he absolutely loathed the rain.

“We live in London, world capital of the rain, how was that different?”

“London is home, I know what to expect, if I want rain I can just stay here, thank you very much.” 

She laughed again because he was completely serious.

“Still, that night turned out to be perfect,” she rolled her eyes at his lascivious smirk, “I don’t mean that part,” she pinched his bicep this time but his smile only grew larger.

“Why not? I happen to like that part the best.”

“I’m sure you do, but I meant the dancing,” she looked at him wistfully and her voiced dipped with melancholy, “I miss dancing with you,”

He kissed the column of her neck and she closed her eyes. Then he pulled away abruptly, letting go of her hand and reached for her bag on the other side of the table.

“What are you doing?”

“Where is that music thing you use?”

“The what? oh you mean,” she pulled the bag closer to her and rampaged through the content before extracting her old iPod and handing it to him.

He started going through the list as she looked at him curiously.

“Why do you want to listen to music?”

“Can’t dance without music now can we?”

He clicked the song and she recognized the piano immediately.  It was one of the songs they’d danced to that night. She’d loved it so much she’d walked up to the pianist when he took a break and asked him about the title.

Draco offered her his hand again.

“Shall we?”

She smiled brightly at him and took it, intertwining their fingers once more and stood. His other hand went to her waist; fingers spread across her back while she pressed her chest against his, her head on his shoulder.

She could hear his steady heartbeat under his skin—soothing, strong, here. Hers.

And there they stood, in their dimly lit kitchen, her in her worn-out over-sized t-shirt and him only in his flannel pajama bottoms, swaying gently to the music of a song about breaking up and bonding for the first time in months. He twirled her once, like he’d done that night, and she laughed, and he smiled down at her.

It was perfect.

She raised her face up to his ear, as the song was winding down and whispered the last words against his ear:

“Je t’aime.”

They remained there, holding each other long after the song ended. 

She kissed his bare shoulder.

“Your skin is so soft,” she marveled in a whisper, tracing his collarbone with the tip of her finger where her lips had been, “I always forget that, I hate that I always forget that.” she said kissing him again, feeling the longing and the sadness again.

“Then I’ll just have to work harder to make you remember,” and, this time, the look in his eyes took her breath away for all the right reasons. 

He sank his hands in her hair and kissed her deeply before grabbing the back of her legs and hoisting her up against him. She wrapped herself around him as he walked them back to their bedroom.

And he did as he promised— he made her remember, over and over again, and Hermione was sure to never forget again.

 __________

The song they dance to is called “J’te l’dis quand même” by Patrick Bruel. It’s a song that I wanted to turn into a song fic for over a decade but never did. I never thought I’d end up using it this way instead but it felt right so yeah, I suppose it all worked out lol