#but i feel like this is mad suspicious right?

[satoruarchive]

(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) TODAY’S CONTENTS : 16+ / cursing / reader is suspicious!.. / a little bit of angst(?) / fem!reader / reader is scared of bugs / reader is described shorter than satoru / satoru’s kindaaa a bitch / let me know if i missed any warnings <3 ★ ˎˊ˗ series m.list ★ ˎˊ˗ wc : 3.7k (how did we go from 2.5k to..)

“tokyo jujutsu high..” you lean back against your seat in the train as an overwhelming feeling takes over you. this is going to be your new life — as a jujutsu sorcerer. this is what you signed up for, so no take backsies, right? even so, you can’t shake off the lingering feeling within you that tells you today is going to be much more than just a.. ‘long day’

“Excuse me, can you stop your mumbling?” your head snapped towards the sound, a look of embarrassment washing over you, realizing you’ve been talking to yourself like an idiot.

“oh, my apologies.” you force a smile at the old man who had been clearly trying to sleep, silently cursing yourself for choosing the worst possible seat — it doesn’t look like there are any decent ones, now that you look around.

“whew, everyone on this train looks real sketchy..” and you’re back to mumbling to yourself. i can’t even get my head straight right now.. the overburning feelings of excitement and stress cling to your heart. this is a big day for you, isn’t it?

you were told you were the replacement for some.. ‘crazy guy’ who slaughtered an entire village and left the jujutsu society. you wonder how his teammates feel about that — are they mad about what he did? sad that he left? or worse, scared of him even? no — maybe all at once. “sounds like a bunch of bullshit though..” you sub-consciously mutter. i mean, who is crazy enough to kill the people they swore to protect?

you can’t help but stare out of the window, a state of frenzy taking over you. determination flows through your body, you’re ready for this, these are just the few small steps you need to a—

“attention passengers,” a voice echoes through the train “we’ve arrived at tokyo — may all passengers please depart carefully, i repeat, we’ve arrived at-“

a frustrated groan leaves your lips, maybe you did want the train ride to last just a little longer. the boost of confidence you had early had quickly seemed to dissipate into thin air. come on, you’ve got this..

despite the hesitating thoughts, you don’t waste another second without arising from your seat, nearly stumbling onto your belongings. a sheepish apology quickly slips out of your mouth in a desperate attempt to not make any further noise while leaving your seat, lurking behind the stretching line of people exiting the train.

the almost never-ending line slowly becomes smaller and smaller until you’ve finally reached the train gate. as soon as you walk out and enter the train station, you’re greeted with the beautiful scenery of tokyo. it’s your first time experiencing the grace of such a serene place in real time — it’s almost distracting, really, the sound of birds chirping by and people bustling everywhere — hold on, something smells a little..

“hey, i’m here.” a hand waves over your face, causing you to flip around quickly and you’re greeted by the sight of a girl with short brown hair and a cigarette sitting in between her lips — so that’s where the smell is coming from. “oh.” you eye her uniform, easily recognising the jujutsu tech uniform that bared similarities to yours.

“wow, you’re pretty.” you attempt to ignore the smoke hitting your face by throwing in a compliment, miserably failing as you slip out a couple of coughs— ahem. . you clear your throat.

the girl notices your discomfort quickly. “sorry.” she removes the cigarette from her mouth, letting the tip burn and the end falling to the ground.

“no, no, its fine.” you shake your hands, sighing in relief when you finally taste some fresh air. “so, you’re shoko right?” a curious gaze displays your features.

“mhm, i am shoko.” she confirms your statement. “Mr. Yaga sent me to escort you, he rambled quite a bit about you.” shoko briefly glances your way as you subtly nod at her words, gesturing you to follow her. you wonder what Mr. Yaga could have possibly said about you — hopefully good things.

“so you’re replacing suguru, huh?” she says it almost as a fact and not a question. honestly, she is also a little unsure about the replacement like satoru— maybe not as worried as him, but she still expresses a sense of uneasiness — she is suguru’s friend too after all. . or was.

you haven’t even noticed that she’s talking to you, her words entering into one ear and out of the other. you’re inattentively staring straight ahead, mind too occupied with thoughts to notice her voice. your ears are ringing with theories about what could of seemingly caused their friend to do such an insane 360 — or maybe im thinking about it too much, he’s not what im after anyway..

“heeyy? you there?”

“oh, yeah, i am.” your response came off a little delayed. damn it, focus. you shake your head, trying to get rid of the lingering thoughts, it’s not the time to let your head get swayed.

“so. . is smoking even allowed in there?” you ask with a half-hearted snicker, a desperate attempt to save conversation.

“no, but if you don’t get caught then it never happened.” she shrugs. “not much of a smoker, are you?” the teasing glint in her voice makes you a little embarrassed, a nervous smile bracing your lips. “no, not really haha.”

“nothing to be embarrassed about, im just poking you.” her reassurance made you sigh in relief, perhaps this wasn’t going to be as difficult as you assumed it was.

“actually.. i wanted to ask something.” shoko turns her head in your direction, awaiting your question expectantly. there’s an unsure expression on your face, contemplating your words.

“why did your teammate-“ the words are about to roll off your tongue when suddenly a strange noise causes you to choke on your words — ring ring.

well isn’t that just great.

“sorry, gimmie a sec.” shoko looks at you apologetically as she takes her flip-phone out of her pocket. she checks the contact name, satoru. you managed to take a peep in time to see who’s calling.

the name leaves your throat a little dry. satoru gojo — from the gojo family. his existence itself makes curses quiver. a sense of rage boils up within you, hearing the name of the gojo clan itself makes your teeth grit.

your eyes narrow for a moment as you faintly hear his voice on the other side of the phone, words being exchanged. “stop calling, im almost there.” shoko hung up, her attention diverting back to you. she doesn’t miss the scowl on your face. “something wrong?”

“oh, no, nothing.” you snap out of your trance before your kettle could pop, your lips curling upward. “who’s ‘satoru’?” you fake a curious look. play dumb — that’s it.

“you don’t know satoru gojo?” shoko lets out a humorous laugh, faltering a little when she sees the serious look on your face. “he’s from one of the big clans, the strongest sorcerer of our generation, they say.” she simply shrugged. “don’t worry about it, he’s all talk, no bark.” she gives you a reassuring look, not what you would of expected from a gojo clan member — but perhaps you should take her word for it, for now.

theres a strangely comforting silence as you follow behind her, you could feel the air getting chilly and shivers vibrating through your body. shoko doesn’t seem to be affected much by it. maybe i should’ve brought a coat.

“anyways, we’re at the outskirts of tokyo now.” you squint your eyes, seeing a big building a few feet away. “well, you’re officially a sorcerer now. its not as exciting as it sounds, though.” she gives you a teasing look.

“i know that.” you roll your eyes. you both take a few more steps, finally arriving at the gate. behind the gate you spot multiple buildings. you have to stand still and collect your breath for a moment, so this is jujutsu tech.

“woah, it’s huge.” of course you knew a place with sorcerer’s from one of the biggest clans wasn’t going to be any joke, but it’s hard not to be swayed by such a breath-taking place.

“come on, lets go.” she takes your hand and walks through the gate. you closely inspect every sight on your way. wow, this place was pretty. you’re almost jealous of it’s radiance.

you’re taken to a bridge where shoko spots a familiar lean figure slouched against the railing with a sulky pout. the chalk-white hair that fell over his eyes, having to push them back with his long fingers and you almost get a view of the famous six eyes the gojo family is known for — those serene blue eyes that can put you in a daze with a look — wait, are you in a daze?

“not you too..” shoko slams her face causing you to snap out of your daydreams in a panicked oh! “im going to hide your face with a cardboard box one day, i swear.” a nasty side-eye was sent satoru’s way.

you thought him ‘charming people with one look’ (such big talk!) was mere gossip amongst the crowd. i mean, he couldn’t be that beautiful right?

you’ve never been more wrong.

“huuuuuh? so it’s my fault now?” satoru crosses his arms, a pout visible on his face. shoko already knows his ego is already swelling with pride, ‘cause he just can’t control the fact that he’s oh-so beautiful, can he?

“oh. . uh.” you finally realize his tall figure looming over you, taking a few steps back as he sizes you up, those piercing cold eyes were antagonising, anything but friendly. resentment runs through your body — it really is him, satoru gojo.

“this is stupid.” satoru let out a huff, pulling away and crossing his arms. “we don’t need a replac—“ satoru freezes in place when he catches the striking scowl on shoko’s face. “whatever. it’s ‘nice’ to meet you.” how much more pettier could he get?

“wellllll, ahem.” you let out a cough, trying to compose yourself. “my apologies. you’re satoru right?” you ask with a friendly smile on your face, but it’s almost like he can see through it with the way he eyes you. as if his icy orbs were poking right through your skull, did a shiver just run down your spine?

“it’s gojo to you.” a huff escaped his mouth and he turned away, refusing to even look at you, as if he was destined to hate you the exact moment you met — well, at least that’s something you both have in common.

shoko could only smack her forehead with her palm. when suguru joined sorcery, him and satoru didn’t hit it off immediately, it took them a while to get used to eachother’s company and get over their silly rivalry.

yet she has this strange feeling it might not be the same with you.

“ignore him, he’s just been a big whiny bitch about about the idea of a replacement.” shoko places a hand over your shoulder, ignoring the offended look satoru gave her, he was no ‘whiny bitch’ about it.. okay, maybe he was… just a little.

“speaking off..” you finally take your chance. “why’d your old teammate leave?” as soon as the words spilled out of your throat, you quickly notice how a cold tension develops in the air. you take a glance at satoru, oh. he doesn’t look very pleased you brought that up. .

“what’s it to you?” he snickers, tone comes off with an edge of hurt. he can’t say he’s over it, that he moved on, that would be a blatant lie. the reoccuring images of that day play in his head, not a single flaw in the vision of that scene — and it hurts.

you almost feel bad for bringing it up, since it clearly wasn’t the. . ‘right time’. you rub your hands together, its cold. was it always this chilly out here?

“i was just ask—“ “well, it’s none of your damn business.”

you can almost feel his glare, as if it was stabbing daggers right through your mind. teeth clenching, you hate that look, it’s just like them all. just like every other g—

“we’ll talk about it later.” shoko finally says something, you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. “im going to show her around for a bit, satoru. bye.” shoko waved as she quickly pulled you away from the bridge. phew.

“so i definitely killed the mo-“ you’re immediately cut off. “don’t bring that up in front of him, god.” shoko laughs. “it’s a sensitive topic for him.”

shoko looked up for a brief moment, exhaling. “suguru — he was our old teammate. they both were practically inseparable, i’m guessing you know he left and all.” you take in her words, suguru geto, of course you already knew who he was.

“im guessing you also wont tell me why he left.” you laugh, yet a curious gaze still present, hoping to hit the jackpot. “well.” shoko lets out a quiet hum and you’re kept on your toes, anticipating, as if watching a love confession in a movie. come on. .

“why do you wanna know so bad?” ah, shit. you almost let a groan leave your lips, you knew it was never going to be that easy, yet it’s just as frustrating.

“im just a little curious, from the things i heard he did some prettyyy crazy things, y’know?” woah, good save. “i can’t argue with you on that.” shoko laughs bitterly. “ill tell you some other time, though. its your first day here, let me tour you for real.”

you nod at her words, trailing behind her as she leads you to a hallway. you take a good look around — must be the dorms.

“so this is where the dorms are.” you look to the direction shoko points at. “your dorm is the one on the right, next to.. satoru’s.” she gives you an apologetic look. “theres no other rooms with essentials as of now, hope he wont be a big pain in the ass for you.”

you acknowledge her words, slowly moving to the room, paying a lot more attention to satoru’s door than yours — there was nothing special about it, yet you can’t shake the feeling that everything’s going a bit.. too smooth. your dorm being right next to his is like a lottery ticket, it’ll make everything much easier, but it’s almost too good to be true — or maybe you’re just overthinking it.

aside from that, it’s also not the best thing in the world. it’ll be perfect for your mission, and yet one day you might just end up punching that arrogant expression on his face from irritation — a double edged sword, they say.

“you can do whatever you want with the room, you listening?” you turn back to shoko, giving her a half-hearted smile. “oh, yeah, definitely.” shoko gives you a suspicious look. “ill take your word for it.. anyway, Mr. Yaga wants to see us tomorrow for a mission so you can prepare for that.”

“wow, mission already? it’s not a piece of cake, huh?” you joke. “consider yourself lucky, a lot of people have it way worse.” she teases you. “im going to go back to my own room — 303 if you’ve got any questions.” she gives you a pat on the shoulder before heading to the third floor, leaving you with the key to your dorm.

you slowly approach the door, finding yourself inspecting the door carefully as if something might jump out and hurt you, paranoid much.

rest assured, there was nothing set up. (obviously. .) you’re fiddling with your keys, about to open the door—

footsteps. the noise causes your ears to perk up immediately, turning around in a defensive stance to see whoever it is— oh.

“woah.” satoru raises his hand in the air defensively. “you ‘tryna to kill me or something?” redness spreads across your face as you immediately stand up straight. “im not armed, that was just a reflex.” you shoot him a glare. clearly, both of you were still petty about earlier.

“you were reaaaaalll nice with shoko huh?” suddenly he’s leaning in close. too close. is he onto you? is your journey over right here right now? maybe you were stupid for thinking you co- “there’s no mistake about it..” he scratches his chin.

“what?” you clench your fist in annoyance, its like your patience disappears whenever it comes to him.

“you’ve got a bug in your hair, do you even wash it?”

. . . .

“wait, what?” a rush of panic washes over you. “where is it!? wait, gojo!” you look up to him with a pitiful expression, only to be met with a teasing smirk. “ohhh, so you’re scared of bugs.” he’s saying it as if he’s keeping tabs on you or something. . he definitely is.

“i was just playing with you.” he shrugs nonchalantly. “seriously, how are you gonna fight a curse if you’re scared of a ‘lil ole bug?” oh this little tease.

“you’re seriously. asking to be punched, gojo.” you attempt to come off as intimidating as you can. unfortunately for you, you’re dealing with the cockiest man on this planet.

“what happened to ‘yer nice little demeanour huuuh? or does it just not apply t’me?” he’s easily towering over you, you don’t know why he’s so.. adamant to get to you. every word that comes out of his mouth — god, give me patience.

“bold of you to assume you deserve a single ounce of kindness.” ouch. the exasperated look on his face proved he did not take your comment lightly.

“oh yeah? don’t get arrogant just ‘cause you happen to get picked as a replacement.” there’s a strange venom in his words, you can’t tell whether it's targeted towards you. just why did he have to be so hard to read?

“just what are you so mad about, that you have to come bother someone else about it?” you bite back. “oh, yeah, me mad, suuuuureee. as if you didn’t look like you wanted to kill me a few seconds ago.” he retorts right back at you.

this isn’t how it’s supposed to go. you’re supposed to be nice to him and gain his trust — but that lingering anger in your heart is taking over you, the same coldness you loathe feeling — that cold look in his eyes, its just like them all. it’s like your feelings are speaking for you, as if your heart is pouring itself out.

present you would laugh at the fact that just an hour ago, you thought you’d be able to befriend him with ease. like a walk in the park, you’ll shoot him a kind smile just like you did with shoko, compliment his eyes maybe, yet it seems like you were destined to be enemies at first sight.

“and you know what? maybe you should be careful, ‘cause i will.” you shoot back, but satoru’s obviously not taking your threat seriously — ‘what could a wimp like her do to me?’

“oh please.” he grabs the collar of your shirt. “if you want me to be the last thing you see ill make it happen right n-“

“satoru, what are you doing?” a stern voice is heard from behind satoru and he immediately pulls away. you immediately recognise the man as the principle — Masamichi Yaga.

“nothinnggggg.” what a liar, you almost want to rat him out but technically it’s your fault as well. . .

“you’re the new student, aren’t you?” the man approaches you while satoru quietly observes. “yeah-“ your voice comes out in a stutter. “i am..”

“it’s your first day here, and you’re already fighting with that lunatic.” a grumble escaped his lips. his tone held a sense of aloofness, he doesn’t seem like someone who plays around. “don’t let me find this behaviour continuing.”

“but he started it f-“ you don’t even have time to respond and he’s leaving. your first encounter with the principle and its great, wow.

“but sirrrr, but heee..!” satoru mocks you from the side, and you have half a mind to not kick him in the face right there.

“im done arguing with an immature jerk like you.” you declare confidently, knowing you’re just as immature as him. “woooooah, look at miss victim being the bigger person, aren’t you sooo admir-“ by the time he’s done talking, you’ve already slammed the door to your room shut, causing him to flinch a little.

“gee, she’s ‘annoyin alright.” satoru opens the door to his own room with his key. walking inside and flopping onto the bed immediately. the AC is turned on in a beat. satoru can feel his mind relax as the cool air hits his body.

today’s tiring. there’s a lot of new unwanted thoughts swarming his mind, many of them being you.

in fact — ever since he heard about you replacing suguru, he’s been unable to help the hatred that filled his heart. is it hatred? or is he scared? the thought of someone else taking suguru’s place, for some reason, it irks him.

“maaaan, feelings are just as annoying as her.” satoru grumbled, resting his head on his arms. “i swear ‘somethin about her rubs me the wrong way.”

he’s not taking himself too seriously. he’s probably just thinking about it too much because he’s overwhelmed. he’ll take a nap and forget about it soon enough. (if only he followed his ‘divine intuition’.)

you, on the other hand, are quite literally panicking. unable to even lay down on your bed. you’re staring at the wall in disbelief, you’ve made it so far, you can’t afford to mess up now. but that look in his eyes — it brings back too many memories you’ve been wanting to forget.

maybe he was just playing around when you were fighting, but you’ve realised it now. he really can kill you if he wanted to. it makes you doubt yourself — if you even hold a fraction of his power. you knew it was never going to be easy, but it makes you wonder.

“just how will i assassinate gojo satoru?”

(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) TAGLIST : @kuroogguk @ilovelinkk @kr1nqu @creamflix (open!)

★ ˎˊ˗ a/n : first chapter !! uh funfact reader was not suppose to have ulterior motives and the story was just suppose to be a simple rivals to lovers thing but while reader was talking to shoko i was like, why not give her a cliche assassin story 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ hope you enjoyed reading!!

[yallthemwitches]

Whispers in the Dark

“And—I dunno. They’re barking mad but I love them. I’m an only child so I imagine you understand now why I’m like this.” He makes a rare self-deprecating gesture towards himself, something the James from a year ago would never have done. It makes Lily break into a real laugh.  “And this,” Lily mirrors his gesture, “meaning…” James grins, and it does something downright delectable to her heart. “This meaning an arrogant git who is too thick to notice other people’s personal lives.” 

When Lily is awarded her prefect badge in fifth year, they warn her that James Potter has a talent for disappearing. But if that's true, why does he keep coming to her night after night, hoping to be caught? Oneshot, Rated T--- AO3 Link Here

Fifth Year 

By the time Lily was awarded her badge, James Potter was already bestowed a nickname among the prefects: The Shadow. 

“Don’t you think that's a bit too ominous for a git who just mucks around all night?” Next to her, Remus snorts but keeps his eyes low. 

“You won’t understand until you have your first patrol—it's like he just…disappears.” The way the Head Boy says it, it makes James sound like some sort of spectre plaguing the corridors, not some untidy haired knob trying to explode the toilets. Lily’s eyes sink as Remus covers a cough that suspiciously sounds like a laugh. 

“Care to elaborate on your mate then, Remus?” She flashes him an innocent smile. Even under the newfound pressure he doesn’t straighten, rather pulling a pack of muggle cigarettes out of his cloak and tapping it on his knee. 

“Nothing to say,” Remus replies cooly, shooting Lily an equally saccharine grin, “just that you better hope he never hears about his little nickname if you don’t want him to be even more incorrigible.”

“Why? I thought you boys dug little nicknames.” She narrows her eyes, accepting the challenge to get him to respond with anything other than collected nonchalance. 

“Trust me on this one—he will be unbearable.”

* * * * *

The worst part of it all is that the senior prefects weren’t wrong, he really would just be there. 

“Alright Evans?” 

She whips around, wand already poised. The corridors leading to the dungeons are more shadowed than the rest of the school, but her eyes have already adjusted to the dark and from what she can tell, she is alone. 

“Potter—I’m not in the mood.” 

There’s a shuffle and she hears a boy's voice murmur ‘when is she ever’ before a round of clipped laughs trickle in the darkness. She turns again, trying to find the source. 

“You gits—I know you are here and I'll give you detention whether I can see you or not.”

She turns again and lets out a small gasp. James stands at the far reaches of her wand light, eyes dancing with mirth behind the reflection of his glasses. 

“Congratulations on the ah…promotion,” he grins and she feels the bristle of anger pull at the hair on her neck. 

She wants to prove herself as the only muggleborn prefect—and what better way than to catch this so-called Shadow. She takes a cautious step forward, worried he will skitter away like a wild animal if she moves too quickly. James just continues to grin, a hand grasping something shimmery behind his back. 

“You’re not supposed to be out.” She takes another step and he eyes her warily. 

“Oh, is that right?” He makes a show of looking around, brow furrowed in confusion. “Wow–sorry about that! Guess I got the time confused.” Another round of muffled laughter comes from behind him.

“C’mon, I’m escorting you back to the tower.” She moves to grab his arm but he jumps backwards, running into something that she can’t see but an oof and hey! ring out from the shadows. 

“As much as I’d love a romantic stroll with you Evans, I’m actually late to another engagement,” he tuts, his smile turning into a sly grin. The hand that has been behind his back lifts up and a portion of his arm disappears, then the rest of his body until his face hovers completely detached in the dark. 

“Raincheck though?” His grin hangs in the air for a second longer before the darkness takes him, but his presence still lingers. Nothing remains but the cold feeling of being watched. 

* * * * *

She’s still not used to it. The random appearances, the floating grins, the whispers in the dark which make her feel like she is living in a rabbit hole rather than a castle. It’s no wonder the prefects leave catching him up to Filch these days—he haunts them. 

“Hey Evans—”

She hopes that wherever he is hiding, he doesn’t see her jump. Turning towards the sound of his voice, he appears just a couple of steps away, hand already running through his hair. 

“I’ll make you a deal Potter, if you fuck off and don’t talk to me, I won’t give you detention.”

She expects him to consider it, but he doesn’t. His eyes are missing the glimmer they usually have when she runs into him at night. Instead, he keeps his head bowed, a frown weighing down his features. 

“I came to talk…to apologize for today.”

She doesn’t want to hear it. Turning on her heel she stalks off in the other direction but he catches up easily. 

“I don’t want some fake apology. I want you to leave me alone.”

Of course he doesn’t listen. He keeps her stride, angling his face to catch her eyes with his.

“It’s not fake–I really am sorry,” he gasps out, “ I was a git and never expected for Snive–Snape to say those things about you–.”

She stops dead in her tracks, her whole body contracting in anger. 

“Sorry? Are you sorry for all the other times you have bullied him too? Sorry for all the other shite you do to everyone around you? I don’t want your apology from you or from him–and I especially don’t want to rehash it with you right now.”

James doesn’t coil back, eyeing her with a brooding pain that feels out of place on his features.

“I know he was your friend. He shouldn’t say those things to you–friends don’t do that.”

It catches her off guard. She certainly isn’t looking for friendship advice from Potter, but he also has hit the nerve that’s been plaguing her all day. 

“I know I’m an arsehole–especially to Snape...but I’d never say something like that to my mates…or to you.”

Her eyes start to sting but the thought of crying in front of him feels like the most incorrigible thing that could possibly happen. She jerks away, stumbling in the direction they had come from. 

“Leave me alone—please.”

He doesn’t follow her like last time and she forces herself forward, rubbing the tears from her eyes. At the end of the corridor, she turns around, expecting to see him standing where she left him and some sick part of her hopes for it. But he has listened for once: he is gone—actually gone. 

* * * * *

She wishes she could disappear as easily as he could right about now. 

“Uhm… Evans?” James leans against the trophy case, a wet rag hanging at his side on his pointer finger. 

She calculates the possibility of turning around and pretending she never entered. Zero to none. On the table, a detention slip sits idly. A scratchy hand reads:

James Potter, Gryffindor, 5th year

Offense: Hexing and physical altercation with Slytherin boys ( 5th and 6th years)

Punishment: Trophy polishing—2 hours

She sighs, placing the paper down and settling her bag on the floor. “Filch is out dealing with a hinkypunk—I’m surveilling tonight.” She doesn’t look at him, crossing her arms tightly against her chest. “So, go on—I’m told you have some trophies to polish.”

James’ eyes remain wide as he nods, turning back to the case. With his back to her, she steals a moment to take him in—his shoulders are squared and there is something more wooden about his movements than she remembers. They haven’t spoken since she told him to leave her alone and she wonders if that’s the reason she hasn’t been seeing him as often. She hates to admit it, but patrols have become boring without him. 

Too busy deciphering his body language, she doesn’t catch him pulling his wand out of his pocket. With one swish, all the trophies gleam. 

“Hey! That’s not the punishment.”

 He turns, an eyebrow cocked upwards. “Yes it is, you said to polish the trophies… So I did.” 

Arrogant little shit. She hates when he’s right—which unfortunately is more often than she wants to admit. She sits on the ground and starts to fish through her bag, pulling out a transfiguration textbook and a parchment.

“Fine, fine. Then just be quiet over there—I have to get this essay finished.”

But she’s a fool to think that he will follow directions. He makes it about thirty seconds before he is up off the ground, coming to lean down and read over her shoulder with his head tilted downwards.

“It’s pretty good so far but you mis-characterized the difference between illusionment and deflection charms.”

She looks up with an insult already poised on her lips but is stopped short by the proximity of his face. Leaning down, his glasses are slipping off and she can see a small bruise blooming on his cheekbone just under his rims.

“Did a Slytherin give you that?” 

He pokes at the bruise curiously, also just noticing it. 

“Ah bugger.” He sits down next to her, splaying his legs in front of him while leaning on his hands. “Mulciber’s work I think. He’s fine at dueling but shite at punching—surprised he even got a decent hit.”

“So what, you’ve moved on to physical violence for fun?”

He whips his head around. For once, his eyes are absent of anything other than seriousness. 

“No actually. Just sticking up for my friends.” His stare is so intense she has to look away.

“I think Black can stick up for himself fine.”

“Yeah, Sirius can, but Remus can’t—not always.”

Now it’s her turn to stare. She had been curious as to why Remus hadn’t been on patrols earlier. It was hard to imagine him in a real argument, much less a physical scuffle. 

“Is he ok? Remus I mean.” The worry in her voice softens his gaze a bit, shoulders relaxing. 

“Yeah—he’s…he’s going to be fine.” James teeters off, something hidden behind his words. 

“Well–I’m glad.” She means it, though it feels understated. Her mind wanders to how often Severus would theorize about Remus’ absences and pushes away the idea that he could be behind the fight. 

“Do you want something? I mean for the bruise?” She rummages around in her bag again and pulls out a vial of white liquid. Handing it to him, he eyes it warily before opening the bottle and giving it a sniff. 

“It’s Mountain Arnica. I made it myself—heals cuts and scrapes pretty well.” 

James pulls his glasses up to his forehead and uses the pad of his finger to dab some onto the bruise. She makes a subconscious note that his eyes are much clearer without the glasses covering them. 

“You getting into a lot of tussles to warrant a bottle of this?” He flashes her a sly smile, warming back into form. 

She shrugs. “In second and third there were some Slytherins that liked to bother me. I guess I got used to carrying it.”

All amusement drops from his face, eyes flooding with concern. “But I thought you were mates with Snape.”

“Yeah well,” she sighs, “we’ve both seen Snape’s track record for sticking up for me.”

She waits for a cutting jab at Severus’ expense but he gives none. 

“Thanks for this,” he says and reaches the vial back out.

“No, you keep it.” She doesn’t know what compels her, but she gives him the first genuine smile in years, “I’m sure you can find better use for it.”

The smile he offers back feels warm, real. 

“Thank Evans,” he says as he slips the vial into his pocket.

“Remus will love it.”

* * * * *

For once, and unfortunately so, she finds him completely visible.

“Ah don’t be such a puss Evans. James was just escorting me back to my dorms.” 

She finds the two walking down past the kitchens, easily detected by the way Olivia’s voice bounces off the cold stone of the corridors.They weren’t touching when she caught sight of them, but as she approaches, Olivia clasps onto James’ limp arm, giggling with a coy smile.

“Don’t know if you can read a clock, but whatever you could have possibly been doing to need an escort was already past curfew.”

James shifts his weight, being more silent than she has ever seen him in five years combined. Olivia gives another high pitched giggle, tightening her hold on his arm. 

“Sorry Evans, we were just busy. Lost track of time y’know?” Lily can feel her dinner resurfacing in the back of her throat.

“Well, I don’t care to know about your extracurriculars,” she turns her head, hoping to mask the flush she can feel on her cheeks, “it’s still twenty points each and a round of detention.”

James raises his head and eyes her with a curiosity that she is unwilling to acknowledge. Beside him, Olivia feigns a pout.

“Ah, bugger. Well, I guess that means we will be seeing each other again, right James?” 

Lily’s eyes flick over to him. His curiosity has settled into a tense stare, eyes blown out and focused solely on her. 

“Er, probably not,” he says with a wooden tone. Olivia’s eyes narrow, her fingers uncurling slightly from his bicep but not letting go. 

As per protocol, she escorts them the short distance to the Hufflepuff dorm which they do in silence. Olivia keeps herself attached to James’ arm, but he gives no reciprocation, letting it swing loose at his side. At the entrance, Olivia casts another hopeful glance at him, expecting some form of goodnight, but he remains distant, pulling his arm away from hers like removing an annoying arm brace. With a huff, Olivia ducks into the common room without as much as a goodbye. 

With Olivia gone, it’s business as usual and Lily escorts James back to the tower like she’s done so many nights already. But instead of the teasing, the idle small talk, the quippy banter, James remains quiet, their steps echoing through the halls. 

Even in the silence, even with James’ new pensive behavior, Lily feels lighter with Olivia gone. She steals a glance at him and she can see there is red blotching under the rims of his glasses, eyes focused only ahead at the darkness. A sick part of her wants to demand what he was doing with Olivia– wants to hear it even if she knows her stomach will fill with bile from the answer.

“I really was just walking her back.” His voice cuts through the silence, clear and firm. 

So maybe he is a mind reader now. 

Like him, she doesn’t stop walking. “Bad luck Potter. Maybe next time choose a snog partner who can be a little quieter.” She means to tease, but her voice is cutting, filled with a malice she didn’t realize she was holding. 

He stops and she feels fingers curl against her elbow. For the first time that night, their eyes lock. 

“I wasn’t going to snog her.”

She ignores the feeling that her heart is about to take flight and searches his face for a glimmer of sarcasm.

“Coming from you, a serial liar, it's hard to believe.” She snorts.

“But I’ve never lied to you.”

She doesn’t know what to say. Suddenly, the corridor becomes very hot, the hand still holding her by the elbow now constrictive.

“Whatever, just drop it Potter, It’s really none of my business.”

And he does drop it, letting go of her elbow and taking a few strides in front of her. She rushes to catch up, wondering who is leading who back to the dorms now. 

Their newfound silence and the change in power dynamic makes something like anger take form, twisting her guts into a perilous place of recklessness. 

“Y’know, you could do a lot better than Olivia Gueresso.” She waits for a physical reaction but nothing comes. 

“Well it’s not like you're interested.” He says. His voice is so low and so quick she almost misses it. Almost.

“Potter–” she warns, but James is already bounding through the portrait, hand passing through his hair. She follows him down the tunnel, footsteps echoing around them.

 She doesn’t know what else she wants from him, but if they reach the firelight of the common room it will be too late. 

“Hey, Potter,” she calls louder and the sound bounces. He turns quickly on his heel and Lily runs straight into him, ricocheting back against his chest. Two calloused hands steady her by her shoulders. 

“You know Evans, you’re really lovely in the candlelight.”

It’s that look again. His eyes glazed on her like there is nothing else in existence. It’s the second time he has touched her that hour but this time it feels familiar, perhaps even welcome. 

“What are you—”

But the light of the fireplace takes him. He lopes away up to his dorm, not even giving a goodnight. 

* * * * *

Sixth Year

He wants to be caught. 

Like normal, he steps out of the shadows but it no longer jars her like it did back in fifth. She hadn’t gotten a good look at him at the welcome ceremony but now she can see he has grown over summer. His body is somehow more lean and muscular all at once; his hair wilder, curling farther down his neck. Instead of his typical urge to immediately run a hand through it the second he spots her, his arms stay casual by his sides. 

“Trying to be awarded the first detention of the year, Potter?” She says cooly, but her heart is already betraying her—something it’s been doing more and more often as her thoughts drifted to him over the summer. 

“If it’s from you, it would be an honor.” His grin grows, his dimple more pronounced. 

Lily attempts to scoff, but finds it much more bearable to avert her eyes. Maybe he had stumbled into some good candlelight, but the longer he remains in front of her the more it’s clear what’s so different about him: he is now infuriatingly fit. 

“Ok–so where’s the gang? Might as well give it up since you are getting detention no matter what.”

His smile doesn’t waver. “No gang-–I’m solo tonight.”

She dares to look him in the eyes, ignoring the whooshing feeling in her chest. He’s telling the truth. 

“Alright, so what? You gonna get early revenge on the Slytherins by yourself?”

He makes a humming noise and his cheeks start to take on a bit more color. 

“No– actually I just wanted to see you.”

It stops all of her thoughts dead. Something about how a small blush colors his cheeks makes her heart beat a bit faster.

“And you couldn’t see me at dinner or in the common room like a normal person?” 

“Yeah well, it’s not like any of our mates would act normal if I tried to ask about your summer over the welcome feast,” he mumbles, running his hand through his hair, now clearly a move of anxiety more than arrogance.

She takes a small step towards him. “That’s really what you want, Potter? You broke school rules on night one to ask me about my holidays?”

“I mean—-yes?” He rubs a hand through his hair again, eyes starting to shift away. A rush of something that resembles pride takes over her. James Potter is feeling sheepish because of me.

She lets him stew for a minute, mostly to take in the rare power she is wielding before giving him a smirk. 

“So do it.”

“Do what?” James gives her an incredulous look, face now so red he could have been slapped. 

“Ask about my summer—or did you already forget that’s what you are here for?” 

It takes a second, but a grin breaks out on his face, returning him back to form. “Alright Evans—how was your summer?”

Lily hums clasping her hands behind her back. “Well my dad died so—”

“Bloody hell,” James runs both hands through his air, all facial features frozen in complete shock. “I mean, Godric, Evans I’m so sorry–that’s…that’s…”

Lily waves a hand in dismissal to distract from any emotion that could be peaking on her face. 

“Eh, don’t worry about it. He was a raging arsehole anyways.”

He looks at her, eyes wide and fixated. “Yeah but still—is your mum ok?”

She looks down the hall, trying to stay nonchalant. “Yeah, I mean she’s fine—seeing as she’s been dead since fourth year.”

“Godric Fuck.” He does a quick spin on his heels, taking a step away from her with his head in his hands before turning back.

“I’m– shit--How did I not know this?”

Lily frowns at him, tilting her head. “What do you mean? It’s not like we’re close or anything.”

Something about saying that feels false but she pushes the thought away.

He shakes his head. “Yeah, but we’ve been in the same class, same house since we were eleven. I reckon I’d at least know something—something like that.”

She finds it quite endearing that he reels from this—that they could cohabitate in the same space for so long without knowing the most basic facts about the other. He continues to rub his face in his hands, looking more tortured by the second. 

“Well, to be fair, I don’t know anything about your family either.” She offers.

He straightens up a bit, sensing her attempt to level the playing field. A glimmer of discomfort still sits in his eyes and despite her being the one newly orphaned, she feels a pull to comfort him. 

“Well go on,” she prods, hoping to shift attention away from her, “Tell me about yours. I know they are purebloods…”

He raises an eyebrow, wary to move away from her loss, but letting her take the lead. 

“There’s not much to say—”

 Lily bats her eyes, urging him forward. He sighs.

 “They are still together and disgustingly still in love, which I guess I should appreciate.”

It makes her giggle, thinking about some old wizarding couple making kissing faces while James feigns puking in the corner. His shoulders relax further, leaning into her amusement. 

“And?” 

“And—I dunno. They’re barking mad but I love them. I’m an only child so I imagine you understand now why I’m like this.” He makes a rare self-deprecating gesture towards himself, something the James from a year ago would never have done. It makes Lily break into a real laugh. 

“And this,” Lily mirrors his gesture, “meaning…”

James grins, and it does something downright delectable to her heart. “This meaning an arrogant git who is too thick to notice other people’s personal lives.” 

It is a sentiment she would have agreed with a thousand times in the past, but hearing it from him now makes her reconsider. It might have been true a year ago, but the boy standing in front of her is decidedly changed—for one she likes standing next to him in the dark corridor. 

But she can’t say that.

“Your words.” She doesn’t elaborate but she offers him a real smile, not one with any edge to it and he returns it. 

“Yeah,Evans. My words.”

* * * * *

It starts a sort of friendship between them.  

He learns her schedule quickly, finding her in various places of the castle on any given day. She questions him about how he does it: disappears and reappears, knows exactly where she’s going to be despite intentionally changing her route to confuse him— but he never answers more than a teasing finger wag. “I’ll never reveal my secrets–you know that Evans.”

He no longer hides from her but hides from the others to get to her. Once found, he appears as usual but with conversation already on his lips. He asks about her life, about the muggle world, about music and films and anything that he can think of—making good on all the lost time in the past six years they have been so close but knew nothing of each other. In turn, she does the same: she finds out that Sirius moved in with the Potters, that his dad is celebrated for a hair taming potion that miraculously doesn’t work on his own son (“I swear, it’s my genes Evans, it openly rejects the stuff—I can’t help it.”), that he likes autumn and quidditch in the rain and the color green…

And she is surprised how much she starts to look forward to it. Time has treated him well, the looming war knocking more sense into him than previous years. Instead of being arrogant and self serving, he listens intently, hanging on her every word. They talk passionately about the rising conflict with blood purity and their shared disdain for the dark arts, life after school, their fears for the future. They have more light-hearted moments too: he charms the corridors to play music, daring to take her hand and dance down the hall, brings her a bit of warm bread with cinnamon and sugar from the kitchens, and consistently offers her silly anecdotes that make her laugh harder than she thinks she ever has in her life. Even the silence is comfortable—warm and encompassing like she imagines his physical touch would be if one of them just made the move…

“God, I love Halloween.”

 They sit inside a bay window in the charms corridor, pulling out candy from a plastic bucket shaped like a grinning jack-o-lantern.

“Alright Evans, what in Godric's green potion is this bloody candy?” He holds up a package of candy corn and she giggles, snapping it out of his hands. 

“Don’t act like you’re too good for muggle candy—we both know how disgusting the wizarding stuff can be.”

James feigns aghast, clenching his chest. “Do you mean to tell me you don’t like bogey flavored sugar beans–how could you Evans? An outrage!” 

She lets out a real laugh, one that makes her head tilt back. He’s been making her do that more with each meeting and every time she does the same look crosses his face: one of triumph mixed with something tender.

“Here, just try one—I swear it can’t be worse than anything you’ve already tasted.”

His eyes squint in a mischievous way, turning his head back and forth like a baby refusing a spoon. 

“Nope, no way.” 

She leans over more, encroaching into his personal space to poke his tightened mouth with the tip of the candy. 

“C’mon Potter? Where’s your courage? Your sense of adventure? Your—”

He opens his mouth, sucking in the piece. Her hand falls to his lips, feeling the warm press of his tongue on the pads of her fingers. 

She jerks back, her face blazing hot. Something burning and raw takes over her senses, flooding all vision. 

“Sorry,” he sputters, trying to not choke through his flustering, “I didn’t–”

She doesn’t wait to talk herself out of it. She leans back in, pressing the soft line of her lips to his. His mouth immediately molds into hers. Eager and warm, he tastes like sugar and something unmistakably him. 

“I’m sorry,” she says when she pulls up for air, “ I just wanted to know…we don’t have to—,” but a calloused hand cups her cheek, pulling her mouth back to skim over his. 

“I don’t want your apology,” he whispers and the heat of his breath makes the room spin, “but I would like you to kiss me again.”

Her mouth is already opening, slotting into place with his. He sighs into her and she can’t think of a more wonderful sound in the world. 

“Alright Potter, I’ll allow it.”

* * * * *

“Are you sure they can’t see us?” It comes out more as a pant than a sentence. James’ lips are working down her neck, hands taking advantage of her open shirt to explore undiscovered skin. 

He hardly lifts his mouth and her body reacts to the heat of his breath, arching forwards into him for more. 

“We can go somewhere else...”

Her mind is screaming a loud, resounding yes, but the clock is telling her she still has an hour of patrols. She forces her eyes open. Looking past the hazy screen of James’ cloak she can see the portraits sleeping soundly as though they never existed. Between the discovery of an invisibility cloak and the feel of James' body against hers, it's too much for her to take in at once. 

He lets out a sigh and she feels the words so lovely being mouthed into her skin. Everything is crackling around her, the world disappearing besides him and his hands and his tongue now dragging lower…

“Tomorrow,” she gasps. “Find me tomorrow right when I get off patrol—-then take me anywhere you want.”

James detaches his mouth and looks up at her, his swollen lips hung open in wonder. 

“Does that mean we need to stop today?”

He tries to pull back, but she grips onto him, not ready to lose the hard line of his body against hers just yet. There’s still an hour left of patrols, but is it not still patrolling if she can see the corridor?

She pushes up on her toes to capture his mouth again, their lips slanting together in hot melding kisses. 

“No–never stop.”

* * * * *

It turns out James Potter can actually follow directions. The next night he shows up with only five minutes left of patrols to spare and they don’t waste a second to slot together, making good on the promise to go wherever he pleases.

Over time her speculation of his invisibility cloak lessens, almost preferring the danger of it to the dingy passageways and small alcoves that he pulls her into each night. But she will take whatever she can get—waiting impatiently through her patrols for that moment when he slides out of the darkness to pull her back in with him. 

In the safety of the cloak or the darkness of some secret hiding spot, she feels a hunger she has never experienced. It’s almost pavlovian in nature—the second the clock nears eleven, her body vibrates at the thought of him, prickling under the anticipation of his touch. When reunited, they wedge together like two pieces of the same stone, hands and mouths frantic and roaming, words coming out in soft sighs and quiet pants that rise into the air like smoke. 

Patrols are no longer enough and nights feel achingly short for the amount of desire they have for each other. Their meetings start to seep into the daytime— ending up in the same passageways and closets but now with the added danger of roaming students and curious friends. During classes, they steal glances and sometimes dare to sit beside each other to let hands travel deliciously out of sight. When no one is looking, they pass notes between classes, trying to convey all the sweeping emotions into tiny phrases like I can’t wait to see you, I need you, you are so lovely, you make me so happy.

It stays like this for days, then weeks. Him always coming to find her, her letting him take the world away. Their time together always a sure thing.

Until it isn’t. 

A quarter past eleven and he hasn’t shown up. She stands in the hall, one of the many recurring places he has found in her the past couple weeks. Her body still vibrates on cue, hungry to feel the scrape of his hands on her, but mentally she knows that something seems wrong.

Would it be impossible for him to not come?

Hearing a noise echo down the hall she turns on her heel, excitement flooding her cheeks, but instead of James loping out of the shadows, someone else stands there, face twisted like a predator hunting prey. 

“You look happy to see me.” Antonin Dolohov purrs out, his eyes scanning down her body with a salacious grin.

“It’s past curfew Dolohov. That’s 20 points and two days detention.” She doesn't let his lewd gaze affect her, keeping her chin high while her hand hovers over her wand pocket. 

“Detention,” he tuts, “I much prefer doing the detaining if you catch my drift, but I’m interested in how a mudblood like you plans to go about it.”

He takes a step forward and Lily pulls out her wand, pointing it straight between his eyes. 

“Enough.”

His smile twists again, nonplussed by the threat. “ I see why Snape has always had such a hard on for you, Evans. You are a pretty girl for a mudblood. Why don’t you be a good little girl and get on your knees for me like you do to keep old Slughorn—

“Stupefy.”

She doesn’t even blink. The proximity of her wand to his forehead makes him knock back and he lands with a thud on the ground. The anger and fear that has been mounting since he appeared boils over and rushes out of her, her wand hand moving on its own accord. She can hear herself as though through a tunnel, hitting Dolohov’s motionless body with spell after spell, each one landing and sizzling into him like a lightning rod. Tears fall hot and globbing on her cheeks. 

Lily! Lily!

She feels strong and familiar arms wrap around her, pulling the wand out of her hand and throwing it to the ground. She makes heaving noises, pushing away from James as he wrestles her in his arms, trying to reach her through the fury. 

“Lily, that’s enough, You have to stop.”

But something inside her doesn’t want to stop. Her time with James has been a good distraction, but she is tired. Tired of the blood purity talks, tired of the endless bullying and spiteful words, tired of forever being a freak no matter what she does and no matter how much she tries to prove herself. Her prefect badge, her good grades, her perfect transitions from one world to the next will never be enough, because people like Dolohov won’t let it. 

 Her legs give out, letting the tears fall in choked sobs. James collapses on the ground with her, pushing her head into his chest, letting his shirt become soaked through.

“You didn’t come…” She cries out. It’s the smallest of the things on her mind, but it’s the only one she can accurately put into words. 

“I know, I’m sorry, I was just coming to find you—-Sirius’ mum had sent him a howler and–”

“So now you're selfish too,” she hisses to herself. Pushing herself into him more, she tries to calm the animal noises that keep spilling from her mouth. From behind them, Dolohov groans, some of the hexes starting to wear off. 

“Lily, I need you to breathe. We need to get out of here—did he touch you?” He pulls back to surveille her.

She is still taking ragged, shallow breaths, eyes burning from the salt of her tears. Sounds echo from down the corridor and James quickly scrambles to pull her into his arms, hoisting her into a cradle against his chest. 

Like always, they disappear together, this time behind a tapestry where there is enough room for them to spread out—though they don’t.

“It’s alright–I’m right here.”

She clings to him, and he continues to whisper comforting words, caressing her hair, her ears, her neck. Finally, she drifts off to sleep, the smell of him and the rhythm of his breathing the only thing tethering her from some sort of madness. 

* * * * *

Seventh Year

“Lily, please–”

But she keeps walking down the corridor, actively looking in directions that are anywhere but at him. 

“I’m not going to give up. Why did you stop answering my letters? Everything was so—so perfect…”

It had been. The summer days were spent writing letters back and forth, exchanging photos, filling in for time spent apart. At first they had to come up with creative excuses to see each other without anyone finding out (“Oh, well I was just thought a quick run to Diagon Alley would be nice.”) before Dumbledore gifted them with the greatest excuse of all (“Sirius, you’ll be at your Uncle’s, yeah? Lily is popping in to do some Heads’ planning—don’t worry, it will be more of a chore…”).

The days they spent that summer bouncing between each other’s houses were some of the best she had ever experienced. Safe from the wandering eyes of classmates, they held hands openly, caressed each other without shame, and spoke admiringly for the first time in normal speaking voices. They snuck into the other’s house at night, crawling into the other’s bed unable to wait the days or hours to press together again, unable to bear wasting another second without their breaths intertwining, bodies always unimaginably hungry for the other’s touch. 

But then there was silence. 

“Is it about the sex? Because we can go back to taking things slow I don’t–”

“Of course it’s not about the bloody sex,” she spits out, unable to contain her shock. “That—that was incredible but–”

“But what? Lily, I’m going mad. Ask Sirius–I've nearly burrowed a path into my sitting room floor from all the pacing I did in the last week.”

She doesn’t want to look him in the eye because she knows if she does he will see it all: Snape coming to her door, warning her about the Dark Lord’s rising, his plan to kill anyone who is a traitor to his cause…

If I did something, I will fix it, I swear,” his voice cracks, tears on the brink of falling, “I just…really need you back. I miss you.”

This time it’s her turn to disappear. She continues walking down the hall, snuffing out her wand light so he is left in the dark. 

* * * *

He isn’t looking for her, but he gravitates towards her anyway.

He was lucky he didn’t miss her entirely. Way up in the highest rung of the stands, the light of the stars betray her by reflecting auburn hair like a beacon. He knows it’s only self-sabotage at this point to approach, having spent exactly two weeks now with no communication whatsoever, but he does it anyway because he can see her shivering from all the way down on the pitch—and because he has never been able to resist her, even now. 

“It’s too cold to be out here like that.” 

He takes off his quidditch cloak and offers it to her, but she doesn’t even look at it, staring off into the distance. 

Taking her silence as an invitation, he sits, leaving enough distance between them to show his caution. Just like in the candlelit corridors, the light from the stars mingle with the color of her eyes, making them glimmer like jewels on her face. It takes everything in his body not to reach for her, fearing that the sparkle will subside the minute he does. 

“There’s a war out there,” she says, her voice hollow and cold like the wind. 

“Yeah, so I’ve heard.”

There’s silence again. The wind cuts through the stands and brushes her hair up into the air like fire dancing. 

“The potions master I applied to apprentice under owled back today—he says he won’t accept my application because I’m a mudblood.”

His head jerks in her direction. He has never heard her say that word before. Instinctively his hands clench at his sides, anger like waves in his chest. 

“Then he doesn’t deserve you, the tosser—-People should be lining up to work with you, you’re bloody brilliant.” He means every word, and he can tell she knows he means it too. A small, pitiful smile tugs at her lips. 

“Bloody brilliant doesn’t change my birth—might as well revert back to a muggle at this rate…”

He doesn’t want to hear anymore. He stands and forces himself in front of her and she looks up at him with a deep, pained look.

“What has gotten into you? The Evans I know wouldn’t say shite like this. The Evans I love wouldn’t—”

He stops cold, watching her catch the word before he does. Love. The Evans he loves. 

“You don’t want to love me,” she whispers, tears falling hot now against her cheeks. 

“But I do—” It comes out as a gasp, the suffering of two weeks without her pouring out of him like a broken dam. “Is this what it’s all about? That you’ve decided you aren’t good enough?”

“I’m not though,” her voice rises, face twisting into a sob. “I’m not good enough for the bloody wizarding or muggle world, not good enough to find work after school, not good enough for you.” 

The last word comes biting out and James freezes in place, feeling as though he has been stunned. 

“Lily, what are you talking about? When have I ever, ever said you aren’t good enough for me.”

Her eyes dart around, hands thrashing to remove the tears that keep coming. 

“You don’t have to say it. You’re a pureblood—I’ve heard the talk. The death eaters will come to your family eventually and ask for support. If I’m with you…” a sob cuts off her words. She stands up, preparing to bolt but he grabs her by the forearm, holding her there with the wind tugging at her hair. 

“If you’re with me than fuck them.”

The tears make her eyes glimmer but not in the way he wants to see them. He expects her to try to run again, but she doesn’t. 

“Lily, I don’t care. I don’t care. You could be half troll and I would still want to be with you. Don’t you see? This is what they want, for you to be afraid—to give up.”

He takes the chance to slide a hand onto her cheek, wiping away some of the tears she has failed to stop. 

“I–I love you, Lily. And if you don’t want that because you don’t feel it back, then I will disappear. But if you don’t want it because you are scared then…then I won’t accept that.”

He searches her eyes, wondering if he is making the biggest mistake of his life by pushing her. She looks back and even with all the pain he can’t stop thinking about how absolutely lovely she looks in the moonlight. Her hair, her eyes—even the tears. He burns the image into his memory, knowing that even if it’s the last night next to her, at least he will have her beauty in this moment forever. 

“I don’t want you to disappear.” 

The wind carries her voice and places it right into his beating heart, suddenly as warm as sunlight. 

“I don’t want you to disappear, because I love you too.”

* * * *

Now, they disappear into each other. Instead of dimly lit corridors, he pulls her into a kiss the second she leaves class. Whispers and hidden notes are replaced with laughter and shrieks of joy as he lifts her up and spins her after a quidditch game, not caring to even glimpse at the house cup. In the sunlight by the lake they tangle together, studying, laughing, snogging–especially snogging, making up for all the lost time in the weeks they were apart and for all the other years they could have been together. The night becomes a special place—one of nostalgia and hope. Instead of meeting in grimy alcoves, she follows his lead to his bed where they slot together like two pieces if a whole, trying to meld back as one. 

He was always a beacon of light in the darkness, but in the sunlight he is breathtaking. Always a presence of comfort and joy and love. So much love that she wonders if she had ever felt it before—not even the love of family could compare to what  he is capable of showing her. She gives it back tenfold, keeping him impossibly close and hoping she will never have to let go. 

“James–you can’t just hide.”

It’s odd to see the shimmering movement of the cloak in the daylight. A muffled voice calls out from where he was just next to her, sheepish and frantic.

“Don’t mind me—just completely turned to dust from embarrassment.”

A smile cracks on her lips, her heart makes fluttering beats in her chest.

“You don’t have to answer me today—-or at all. We could just pretend it never happened.”

She reaches out towards where his voice is coming from, but hears his feet move back on the grass. 

“James,” she sighs, “ I was going to say yes.”

It hangs in the air. She can practically feel his heartbeat from whatever distance away he stands hiding. 

“So, if you would stop freaking out–” she adds, cheeks filling with pink, “I’d really like to kiss my new fiancé.”

His head pops out, floating detached in front of her. It would remind her of the first time she ever caught him past curfew, but instead of a mischievous grin, his face is flush and eyes blown wide. 

“I’m not freaking out,” he murmurs, “But—just to be sure, did just call me your fiancé?”

She moves quickly, grabbing hold of the cloak and pulling herself under into his arms. She can feel his body buzzing against hers, fingers moving in shock to wrap around her body. 

“Yes, I did,” she says, pressing her lips into his. “And yes, I will marry you.”

If the cloak falls away, they don’t notice. He picks her up and she wraps herself around him, the warmth of his skin and the May sunlight working in tandem. His shock has worn off and he kisses her in earnest, and she is more than happy to reciprocate. 

They could have stayed like that for hours, days—it didn’t matter anymore. With him, everything else disappears. 

[gothamite-rambler]

Dimensional Crossroads: Martha (Batfamily Chronicles Series)

Context: Portals from a mysterious source have been opening up around the world. Recently, Jason made the mistake of falling through one, along with a version of himself that didn’t die horribly. But it doesn’t stop there. In another dimension, Martha Wayne survived the robbery, while her husband and son fell victim to the mugger. In her world, her Robins are called Doves—comprised of Kate Kane, Beth Kane, Barbara Gordon, and Stephanie Brown. Martha has been through a lot: dealing with creepy stalkers, facing a Joker-like Selina Kyle, and burying her grief. Now, she and Bruce are about to be surprised to see each other, even if they aren’t their versions.

Batwoman, aka Martha Wayne, landed effortlessly from the portal above, her feet touching down silently. She smiled, feeling satisfied with her graceful entrance.

Batwoman!Martha (age unknown): I still got it.

She surveyed her unfamiliar surroundings, taken aback by the array of heroes and villains that surrounded her, but she steeled her focus.

Batwoman!Martha: Hm, Giovanni mentioned I’d land in places different from my own. But this place is really something… a gender-swapped version of my world?

She groaned after using that word, realizing it was a term Barbara had recently become obsessed with as she delved into fan culture. Barbara had been sharing all sorts of things with her, and "gender swap" popped up frequently in those discussions.

Batwoman!Martha: I’ve been around Barbara for too long if I’m referencing her.

With a sigh, Batwoman retrieved a device given to her by her version of Oracle, designed for navigating these dimensions. It blinked with data about her new environment.

Batwoman!Martha (fascinated): Huh, I was somewhat right. This place has a… Batman? Where is he? I hope he’s not my husband, driven mad by some dark fate… I can’t deal with that again.

As she hummed to herself, Batwoman wandered through the chaos until she spotted a man in a blue-and-black spandex suit and a young blonde woman in a purple spandex outfit. She then stepped forward to the figure of Batman, who was assessing the pandemonium before him. She tapped his shoulder gently.

Batman turned around and saw the strange woman in a batsuit that closely resembled his own.

Batwoman!Martha: Oh my... God.

Martha instinctively covered her mouth in shock. Behind the cowl and suit, she recognized him—her Bruce, now all grown up.

Batwoman!Martha (whispering): You’re here and… alive?

Batman (monotone): I’m assuming I died in your dimension. Are you my cousin, Kate? If so, I hope you’re not as aggravating. And please, don’t be a stalker.

Martha sniffled as her tough exterior began to crumble, and she pulled him into a warm embrace. Nightwing and Spoiler exchanged shocked glances, concern etched on their faces. Batman, on the other hand, was bewildered by the sudden hug.

Batman: Ma’am, whoever you are, let go.

Spoiler (shouting): Yeah, he’s not a hugger!

Batman (annoyed): Spoiler!

Spoiler (shrugging): You’re not!

Martha’s eyes widened in realization, and she quickly pulled away, embarrassed by how she must have looked to these strangers... with the exception of Bruce.

Batwoman!Martha: Oh dear, sorry! I’m making assumptions, young man.

Batman (in his 40s): Young man?

Nightwing: Ha, he's old as hell!

Batman groaned, covering his eyes in annoyance. Batwoman, still in shock, could only smile at the potential adult version of her son. She had so many questions but knew she couldn't reveal them in a public area where people were running around in a frenzy.

Batwoman!Martha: I mean, uh… adult man. You are an adult man! Tax filing age. Nice suit, very well made. It’s loud here. How about you and I—just us—head to your Batcave to discuss all this?

Batman (suspicious): Um, sure, but in a few minutes. I need to handle this situation first before it escalates.

Batwoman!Martha: Oh, right! I almost forgot the intensity of what we’re facing. I admire your focus on the task at hand. Mind if I lend a hand?

Batman (confused): Sure. If you’re a version of me, I assume you’re a hero.

Batwoman!Martha (pulling out a sleek red and black gun): All right! Let me get my proper weapon—Batgun. Who should I aim for?

Batman swiped the gun from her grasp, walking away while gesturing for Martha to follow.

Batman: I don’t know what the rules are in your dimension, but here, I don’t use guns and I don’t kill. I hope you can respect that while you’re here.

Batwoman!Martha: Oh, of course... of course.

Batwoman!Martha (in her head): Poor Brucie must have been traumatized after losing… me. Is Thomas alive? I’ll ask about him later. For now, I can fight alongside my son!

Batwoman!Martha (speaking out loud): Lead the way, sonny, and we can catch up afterward.

Batman (finding her odd): Honestly, you’re very strange to me right now and I'm not sure what catching up means in this context.

Batwoman!Martha: Oh, don’t worry! You’ll understand at the Batcave.

Batman rolled his eyes, still unaware of the true identity of this version of Batwoman. All he wanted was to resolve the chaos of the night.

To be continued...

[jaaklops]

so. the s2 intro sure is something huh

i was rewatching it and i found a LOT of symbolism in just the shots alone and im not good at analyzing so be warned

spoilers for s2 act 1 ahead! now you’ve been warned for that too

so first we start off with vi and jinx. vi rubs off the tattoo on her cheek or smudges something on it; she’s losing herself/her real self is buried in the grief and anger she feels after losing jinx during the battle, and now losing caitlyn. vi remains sitting, lingering in her emotions, while jinx stands up, and i read this as her standing up to be the new symbol zaun needs like sevika told her. vi, with her head down, is left behind while it focuses on jinx

new shot to ekko. he’s still. not moving. he’s off in the distance, not really involved at the time. he is standing in the other side of where jinx was,, maybe this signifies how far apart they are now??

second picture, he’s more active, he’s up front. it doesn’t seem like hes a major part right now but when things start to pick up he’s going to be involved

i honestly don’t know about this one but if you have any clue than do assist

cut to viktor. he’s in a cloak, picking up and holding a plain white mask. he’s becoming this god like figure who can heal the suffering (those who don’t show their true faces..the mask?) and he believes this is his new destiny. there’s light from above

later in the intro he is about to put on the mask/looking more closely at it. by now the light is gone, and it’s only coming from the mask. maybe he puts all his motivation into taking the suffering away from these people and that’s all he can see..and then jayce steps in.

(jayce/viktor’s arcs are still gonna be close together even though viktor leaves)

cut to ambessa. her face is covered by darkness and its overall just a bit dim. she’s holding a black rose and black petals are behind her. she makes no move to pick them up, instead leaving the mess for someone else. she planned the attack at the memorial in secret, and she gives power to caitlyn when in reality she’s the one pulling the strings.

in this she’s relaxed, and it looks suspiciously similar to a painting i’ve seen before but i DON’T KNOW WHICH ONE omg

cut to caitlyn. she’s almost entirely shrouded in darkness, with the exception of a bit of light in front of her face. she looks down, away from it, and she looks almost annoyed by it—her spiral into madness(i think we can call it that?)

her back is facing what looks like a curtain, and then she looks up, as if facing an unseen crowd, much more pulled together than what she was just a second ago. signifies her pulling herself together to lead piltover.

assuming it’s a stage though, shouldn’t she be at the front?

it’s very…very. that the shot of ambessa and this shot of caitlyn were put right next to each other ykyk

gonna be so honest i have no idea what this one could mean…very vague

intimidating shot of ambessa holding a black rose—the rose is the focus, while ambessa’s face is blurred. perhaps symbolizes piltover and how they’re in ambessa’s hands, not whoever the piltovians think is leading them. of course they don’t really know that, and they probably won’t until later in the season

MELLL ok for a while i too wondered what some of that even meant but then i was like WAIT.

in the first picture mel is surrounded by hands we only see in shadows. this is maybe to communicate the pressure mel feels from her mother and how it’s closing in on her all at once/she’s struggling to come to terms with everything thats happened, and now she has to deal with ambessa scheming and she wants to dismantle it, since she knows first hand just how ambessa is and she doesn’t want piltover to face the same fate

in the second picture, she’s breaking free from the hands around her and standing up for herself/fighting back

in the third picture she finds herself where ambessa once was. there’s much more light here, and the black rose (maybe still symbolizing piltover?) lays beside her. the black petals ambessa left behind are going away with the wind..l ambessa is defeated

cut to jinx again. she’s becoming fully realized as the new symbol of zaun, one that neither vander nor silco could be. waving the flag even though it looks just a tad too big for her

pretty self explanatory. caitvi’s arc

unless?

in the first picture it almost looks like vi’s staring into a mirror but no, they’re standing right in don’t of each other. neither vi nor caitlyn can see each other eye to eye, with both of each other’s emotions flying

they come to embrace but they almost seem to be thrown apart by an invisible force or pulled away from each other. so close to understanding each other but so far at the same time

ok now this i LOVE this one. see on another post that the second picture is a reference to macbeth and i just MWAH.

also pretty self explanatory..caitlyn’s arc

first picture, she’s spiraling absolutely losing her shit. pretty close to what we saw in act 1 except we were never showed it to this degree. a mental picture. she’s trying to pull everything together so she can be the leader she’s been appointed to be but she just can’t

second picture is said macbeth reference. also symbolic to her being blinded by her tunnel vision of revenge. she’s grieving you guys :(

third picture, her eyes are open and she’s looking at us like she knows something she didn’t before. it’s a realization and it’s definitely gonna be something surprising

—

hoo boy that was a doozy

honestly guys i do not know how to analyze well so i will say now that this sucked☠️but its been bouncing around in my head for a little so maybe someone can see this and make something wayyyy better with it

and besides its early in the season so this is probably all wrong😭

[venus-is-thinking]

A Note on Eden's Note

Okay, so I was looking at the note that Eden hypothetically wrote to Arei about Arturo blackmailing her. To be honest, I haven't actually sat down and read it for a while. So, now that we know it's Arturo and the torn parts are using he/him, this is what the note reads:

TW: SUICIDE

Arei Someone else found out my motive. That he was responsibel for the death of his sister. I didn't mean to share it. I said I wouldn't but it slipped out I'm scared. I think he might do something to me please meet me in playground at 7:30 you promised to be my friend I need you now more than ever -Eden

People have pointed out the spelling of responsible before. There's also, like, no punctuation before line breaks and the capitalization is janky. What I want to look at, though, is that first bit.

Someone else found out my motive. Who the hell is that?

Shortly after the note is revealed, this exchange happens.

Okay, so, crisis averted. Eden said that she didn't share her motive with anyone, which I have to assume is in reference to the "it slipped out" bit.

The weird thing to me is that it's included in the note in the first place. Assume you're the killer and you're writing this note. You have to get Arei to get to the playground at 7:30, signed Eden. You know that Arturo is threatening Eden, and you know that his secret is that his younger sister committed suicide because of him. Why wouldn't you just say you were worried about Arturo in general? Why invent this other person who learned about Arturo's secret?

'Cause, it just complicates it, right? It adds another layer of disbelief. On top of Eden, Arei and Arturo, you're adding another person into the mix: someone who learned about Arturo's secret on accident. Add that in to Teruko knowing Eden's secret holder uses he/him pronouns and the possibility of someone impersonating Eden to write the note, and you're looking at, like, half the remaining students potentially knowing about Arturo's secret in some way, shape or form.

But no one except Eden and Arturo seem to want to indicate that they know about it. The person who wrote the note would have to know that too, right?

If anyone has any thoughts on why this hypothetical person would exist, even if it's a complete and total lie, I'd love to hear it. The best theory I can come up with is that the author of the note would have to be Eden or Arturo (for both of them, the more people who know about the exchange with Eden, Arturo and Arei, the less suspicious they are individually), but I'm interested in alternate interpretations.

...Also, I just want to say that the fact that the note is censored is incredibly suspicious. Like, the parts that are missing from the note feel big enough that they're intentional. That, to me, says that whoever threw the note away fully intended on it being discovered in the trial. Why tear the note to shreds and throw most of the shreds away, but not ones that include key information about who you're talking about? Preserving the secrecy of individual pieces of the note means that you expect someone to piece together the fragments.

[nexus-nebulae]

me as a kid: i have all these problems

every adult around me: you're not old enough to know what's wrong with you, you're fine

me as an adult: i still have all these problems

my doctors after i finally got the opportunity to choose them myself: oh my fucking god why have you never gotten help for all these problems. you should have seen me 10 years ago

[justalittlebluetiefling]

I haven't been involved with coaching for almost 3 months now and somehow I am still getting dragged into the drama.

[lucent-nargacuga]

looks around awkwardly

I know I loathe valentine's day with every fibre of my being, but,,,

read the tags of the original post for context, but only if you're prepared for a shit ton of awkward embarrassment

[starlooove]

I will never care about besties tim and Damian or a good relationship between Damian and Bruce until everything tim and bruce did gets seen with the same weight and vitriol everything Damian did. Y’all dragged that shit for years on Damon’s part but now you think ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t understanding of you even tho I was right and you were evil but it was just bc u were brainwashed and refused help and I should’ve done more but that’s not my JOB that’s just the kindness of my heart so really the person who’s wrong is you but aren’t I so nice and understanding and emotionally mature for saying sorry?’ In every fic for Bruce and Tim is appropriate for them to move on 😭

[here-there-were-dragons]

my mother is absolutely convinced of some nonsense conspiracy theory that (in her words) "originally humanity lived in peaceful all-woman societies of goddess worshippers who took care of eachother and lived in harmony, while males were roving loners that had no society and never cooperated. that changed when the men banded together and overthrew the peaceful woman-dominated societies, and enslaved us all." and, according to her, this is proof that a woman-dominated world would be innately more peaceful, and that men are innately violent and evil and should be either barred from holding any legal power or leadership roles or at least should be (again in her words) "gelded like bulls" to remove their testosterone before even being considered for such a thing.

she also evidently believes that the problem with all religions today is primarily that they aren't "goddess worshippers", because she seems to think goddess religions are inherently peaceful and pure too and seems to be especially obsessed with "Isis" in particular. the very very few times she's openly considered it unambiguously bad for some population or another to have been exterminated (she's got a bad case of devil's advocating genocide brain), she's gone out of her way to make up some crap about how said people were a peaceful society of goddess-worshippers, almost always of isis. delusions of isis-worship seem to be the only thing that ever causes her to consider any arab or middle-eastern culture, society, or ethnicity to be relatively uncomplicatedly undeserving of extermination, in fact, because every fucking time she doesn't immediately start devils-advocating it and making remarks about how "the rest of the world should box them in and let them blow eachother up" it's when she's whinging on about how whatever specific micro-ethnicity she's thinking about are or were traditional persecuted isis-worshippers.

the sole major exception to her weird fixation on isis worship justifying worthiness of life is the whole israel thing going on, in which she has consistently made very obvious that literally the only reason she's against the genocide of palestine is because it gives her an excuse to even more openly hate jewish people than she already did. and honestly i'm not sure even that's true because i think she's made some offhand remarks about palestinians having probably been peaceful isis worshipers before the jews infected them with christianity or something anyway.

so for the last, however fucking long it's been i've been constantly having to listen to her go off about how this behavior is in the jew's blood or whatever and that they literally invented all genocide because somehow the concept didn't exist before them and wouldn't have ever been invented by the rest of humanity without those jewish aliens dropping it in i fucking guess apparently and she furthermore goes on about how every single genocide and mass-oppression movement in history is directly inspired by them, ESPECIALLY the nazis, and THEN i have to listen to her rant about how, basically, wwii was something they entirely brought on themselves by "dominating the economy and treating everyone not them like shit" and the nazis were just "using their own tactics back at them". and then she goes on a rant about how the people the original jews exterminated back in the day (aka the first ever genocide, which they invented, because jews invented genocide and hate according to her) in the middle east region were peaceful matriarchal isis-worshipers.

and then she starts making comments about arabs being backwards and palestinians either being mysogynist muslims that should be boxed in to blow eachother up with everyone else or secret peaceful isis worshippers corrupted by men's cruel hand, sometimes in the same sentence, entirely dependent on which group she's more in the mood to hate at the time.

it's exhausting. beyond exhausting. her sole purpose in existence seems to be to have the singularly most exhausting set of politics physically possible to fit into one person.

just, sometimes i think, if there really is anything at all to the incredibly stupid and inexplicably popular idea that anyone or anything has a Purpose tm to exist for, i feel like my mother's purpose is to be walking proof to me of a Type Of Guy That Is Real, cause i sure as fuck would have trouble inventing this mess if it wasn't standing right in front of me spewing confusingly bipartisan hate. all of her thoughts and opinions are these long winding nonsense chains that feel like if that man carrying thing sketch about the friend with confusing politics was a person. on meth.

[fingertipsmp3]

Why do I never trust myself. I've lived in this body for 27 years, I literally know when it's getting sick, but I was like nooo, it's just because I'm sleep deprived and on my period and autumn sometimes does weird things to my body. Stupid. Stuuuuuupid

[charlotteking23]

Pet Names Bro - LN4

Lando Norris x reader

Summary: Lando won't stop bothering you about your pet names for him, so as revenge you texted Lando bro to see his reaction.

"Hey baby", Lando said walking towards you with his hands in his pockets. "What are you doing?".

You look up from the TV, hearing Lando's voice, "Nothing, just laying down".

You could feel Lando join you in the couch wrapping his arms around your waist.

"Hmm baby I have a question?", Lando said propping his elbow up leaning against the couch. "Why don't you have a nickname for me".

You laughed at Lando question seeing his pouted face. "I just don't like pet names".

"But whyyyyyyy??", Lando complained in a whiny baby voice.

"I don't know It just gives me the ick", You replied not understanding the big deal.

"Everyone on the grid always wonders why you never call me a pet name", Lando said crossing his arms on his chest.

",Fine, I'll call you a pet name", You smiled seeing Lando jump to his feet in excitement.

"Yes, What pet name?", He asked eagerly.

"I don't know", You replied going back to the TV. You could feel Lando eyes watching your every move, making you feel uncomfortable.

"You know its going to take me some time to think of a pet name right", You said looking away from the screen to Lando's eyes.

"Hmm, enough time for me to go to sleep for an hour or two", Lando said with excitement before running away to bed.

"I don't kn-", You were saying before being rudely interrupted by Lando, "Okay goodnight baby", he yelled out already far gone. You only rolled your eyes at his antics.

"He never listens to what I say maybe it's time for Lando to get what he wants... a nickname", You grinned devilishly a plan already forming in your head.

You arrived in your and Lando's bedroom as demanded, seeing Lando on top of the bed sheets pouting like a baby.

"Are you that mad about the nickname", You laughed going over to the bed.

"It's not funny, I asked for a pet name not a weird nickname", Lando complained, putting his hands on his waist in disapproval.

"Should have been more specific", You said shrugging at Lando flabbergasted face.

"I WAS", Lando shouted out to you as you Laughed at his frustrated face. You wipe off an imagery tear seeing Lando's meme worthy face right now.

"Baby come on pleasee", Lando whined out.

"Lan, I just don't like pet names, they're just not for-", You were about to finish your sentence before AGAIN being rudely interrupted by Lando.

"Babe, say that last part again", He said looking suspicious.

Okay 1. stop interrupting me Lando. And 2. um I don't like pet names", You said looking at Lando meme expressions.

"Before that", Lando said moving his arms around exaggeratedly like an ape.

"Um Lan, I don-", AGAIN for the third time interrupted by Lando and at this point used to it.

"Their, baby that's it", Lando said snapping his fingers like he just solved the world hardest math problem.

"That's great Lando, but what?", You said annoyed Lando taking forever to say his amazing discovery.

"You can call me Lan, for the pet name, It's not cringy and it's sentimental and sweet", Lando said in appreciation of his discovery.

"Hmm, that's not a bad idea, I mean it doesn't give me the ick so that's good news", You said feeling comfortable with the nickname.

"Yess, I did it", Lando said doing a victory dance in celebration.

"This is the only idea you have had that is actually good", You said rolling your eyes at his crazy antics.

But you couldn't help yourself in also joining in Lando celebratory dance.

Lando took your hand delicately twirling you around the room like a princess you were.

Humming quietly to your favorite slow song as you both danced hand in hand slowly with his hands on your waist and yours on his neck.

He twirled you around again before placing his forehead gently on your, taking your hand in his intertwining them together, with his other hand on your waist and yours on Lando's shoulder.

Masterlist

[katsu28]

welcome home, little guy

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: to you, summer break means no races, no responsibilities, and all the poolside piña coladas you can drink. apparently to your boyfriend, it means bringing home a new addition to your family. (1.8k)

a/n: working on way too many things at once rn but i simply couldn't resist <3 lando puppy video u will always be famous to me

To say you’re looking forward to the summer break is an understatement. It’s the first time during the whole season you get to spend two straight weeks with Lando, doing whatever you want, whenever you want. No races, no working, nothing but relaxing with the love of your life for fourteen whole days. You can only imagine the things you’ll do, the places you’ll go. 

Truth be told, he needs this more than you do. Things have been a bit tough lately, on and off the track, so to have some time off to rest and recharge before the second half of the season will be good for him. Good for you too, so you can make sure he isn’t thinking about anything other than his well being. 

You’re buzzing with excitement at the thought of him coming home any minute now, opting to await his arrival in the comfort of your shared apartment instead of braving the swarming crowd you know for a fact is waiting for him when his jet touches down in Nice. You’re so eager you’re surprised you haven’t paced a hole in the living room carpet. You like to think you’ll kiss him stupid once you set eyes on him, though you also think you’re more likely to cry a little first. 

The beep of the front door padlock powering down pulls you out of your thoughts, and then his voice, achingly familiar and soft, “Baby? Are you home?” 

“Yeah!” You say, nearly bouncing on the balls of your feet. He appears from the hallway slowly after a few seconds, and his back is facing you, which makes you pause. “Uh…Lan? What’s happening? Why are you facing the other way?” 

“Don’t get mad at me,” He replies over his shoulder, lowering his bag onto the floor gently with one hand. 

You narrow your eyes at his back, suspicious more than anything. “Why? What’ve you—oh my god, please don’t tell me you got that tattoo you were talking about a few weeks ago.”

“Alright, relax, I didn’t get a tattoo,” He huffs. He’s still facing backwards. “Though it’s good to know how unsupportive you’ll be if I ever do get it, thanks, babe.” 

“Seriously, what is going on with you? And for fuck’s sake, love, will you please turn around?”

He spins on his heel gingerly, beaming so bright it rivals the sun. At first, you think it’s because of you, but then you catch sight of what’s most likely the reason for that big smile, and your breath catches in your chest.

The tiniest puppy you’ve ever seen sits snuggled in Lando’s arms, peering out at you with wide eyes. Dark brown fur covers its head and pointy little ears, fading into a lighter coppery color around its eyes before turning pure white at the snout and along the rest of its body. The same lighter brown spreads in a patch along its back. 

“Lando, you did not.” 

“I did.” 

“Are you serious?” 

He smiles guiltily, stepping closer with the pup. “Are you mad at me?” 

“No, I’m…just surprised, is all. How did you—when did you have time to get a dog while you were working?” 

“The team partnered with a shelter for dogs for a video to, like, bring awareness and hopefully get the pups some forever homes, and um, they brought a bunch of puppies,” Lando explains, shifting the puppy a little higher against his chest. You close the leftover gap, reaching out to let the timid pup sniff your hand a few times. “This little guy crawled right up into my lap and didn’t move the whole time we were filming, and I think we just bonded with each other immediately.”

“Bet you loved that, didn’t you?” You smile, stroking its soft fur gently. Whether you’re talking to the puppy or Lando, you’re not really sure, but either way, you’re already feeling yourself start to fall in love. 

He gazes down at the dog curled up in the crook of his elbow so fondly you’re almost jealous. You’re not, but you’ve never seen Lando look at anyone or anything with this much love in his eyes before (other than you, and maybe spring rolls). “I know we've never really talked a lot about the right time to get a dog, but I couldn’t—I knew I couldn’t not bring him home with me.” 

The pup leans forward, licking your fingertips with his little pink tongue, and your heart melts into a puddle at your feet. It’s true, you’ve had the dog conversation with Lando many times before, all of which always ended the same way. With Lando being away so much and you with your own job, bringing in a new addition to your lives would be tough to figure out. 

But as Lando transfers him into your arms, and he instantly nestles up against you like you’re his home, every excuse you’ve ever made for not getting a dog flies right out the window. You know it in your heart, this is the dog you and Lando were meant to love. 

“Hi, darling,” You say softly, lifting the pup to your eye level. He’s so small he fits comfortably in two hands, tiny black nose twitching as he cranes his neck out to sniff at you. “You really did a number on this one, huh? Made him fall in love with you?” 

Lando steps behind you, sliding his arms around your waist to bring you flush against him. He hooks his chin over your shoulder comfortably, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he gives the pup scratch under the chin. “Seems like he’s doing the same to you.” 

“Seems like it,” You hum. You bring him back against your chest and up towards Lando, who breaks into a fit of giggles as his nose gets a good few licks. 

“So…can we keep him?” 

“This isn’t going to be easy, Lan, you know that, right?” You say. He nods. “We’ve got to take him to the vet, set up sessions with a trainer, potty train him. Figure out how we’re gonna do this when you’re gone.”

“We’ll figure it out before I leave again, baby. We’ve got time,” He insists, rubbing his hands up and down your arms reassuringly. “Besides, I’ve already asked Charles and Alex for tips, they’re coming round for lunch and a chat as soon as they’re back in Monaco. And they’re bringing Leo, so who knows, maybe these two will become best friends.” 

“Look at you, planning puppy playdates already. He’s got forever with us now, you know? Let’s get him used to us and this place before we introduce him to others, dog dad.” 

Lando scoffs, but not unkindly. More amused than anything. “Well! Seems like we already know which one is going to be the mean parent out of the both of us, don’t we, Archie?” 

“That’s his name? Archie?”

“It’s the one the shelter gave him, but we can still change it if we find one we like more.”

“No, it’s perfect,” You murmur, planting a kiss atop Archie’s furry head. “Welcome home, Archie.” 

“Yeah,” Lando replies, squeezing you a little tighter. “Welcome home, little guy. We love you so much already.” 

You angle your head towards him, catching his chin with your free hand, bringing him towards you and kissing him gently. Lando all but melts into you, happily reciprocating. “Welcome home to you too, my love.” 

“Mm, I’ve missed you,” He hums, nuzzling into the crook of your neck with a content, deflating sigh. “Gonna be a nice break, innit? No more grainy video chats or time differences for fourteen days, just you and me.” 

Archie lets out a whine, the first noise he’s made since Lando’s gotten home, as if to remind the both of you that he’s here too. Lando laughs, smoothing his fingers between the pup’s ears goodnaturedly. “And you too, of course, buddy.” 

You know Archie can’t understand a word either of you say, but the way he cocks his head intuitively makes you think that maybe, just maybe, he might. 

-------

You’re used to Lando being an early riser, but he always stays in bed waiting for you to wake up on his off days, ready to cuddle with you until one of you gets hungry. 

This morning, however, when you lazily reach out an arm to find him, you come up with nothing but cold sheets. Blinking the sleep out of your eyes as much as you can, you squint over at his side of the bed to see his squashed pillow and rumpled duvet, but no Lando. In your half asleep state, part of you thinks you’d just imagined him coming home with a puppy yesterday. 

But then you see the crinkly fish shaped toy on the floor in the hall as you go to find Lando, the one you’d insisted on getting on your impromptu trip to the nearest pet supply store last night despite all his huffing and puffing about it.

It’s Archie’s favorite out of all the toys you’d bought, you’d say, based on the way he’d dragged it around the living room for ages even though it was nearly the size of him. 

Lando’s laying on the floor in the middle of the kitchen when you make your way in, spread eagle on his back with said puppy standing right on his chest. As soon as he spots you, he lifts his head, grinning at you excitedly. Archie takes note of the sudden movement and barks, leaping off Lando and making a beeline straight to where you’re crouched with open hands. 

“Little traitor!” Lando grumbles, pouting as he pulls himself into a cross-legged position. “I’ve played with you for the last hour and you run away as soon as someone else comes along? Rejection is a bitter cold.” 

“Don’t be jealous, Lan. Archie just knows who his favorite is already.”

“That’s bullshit,” He scoffs, rolling his eyes playfully. He directs his next words at the pup currently enjoying a nice belly rub from you. “Remember who brought you home, Archibald Norris.” 

“Hang on, why does he get your last name? Why can’t it be mine?” 

Lando shrugs nonchalantly. “Mine’s got a better ring to it. Duh.” 

“That’s not fair, he’s my son too, he should have my last name!” 

“Fine, we’ll hyphenate. Happy?” 

Your nose scrunches, head tilting side to side in contemplation. “Mm, feels like the short end of the stick, but I’ll take it. Alright buddy, go to your dad! Go, go!” You encourage, throwing the fish toy you’d picked up towards Lando. 

“Not the fucking fish!” He yelps, but he grabs it anyway, scrambling to his feet to have Archie come after him in pursuit of his beloved toy. Archie barks up a storm as he chases Lando, tongue lolling out of his mouth, little legs moving as quick as they can. 

Sure, maybe there won't be any jet setting away on holiday during this break, but it’s fine. You haven’t seen Lando look this happy in a long time now, so you don’t care at all, really. 

In fact, as you watch Lando and Archie run around the apartment like they’ve been best buddies forever, you know there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. 

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new fics :)

[volcanocraft]

hi how are you feeling about this life series season? :D

can you believe that they kept going in the same direction despite trying to shake eachother off. both with joel offering sticks and gem denying it so he mutters "guess we're not teaming then" and gem saying "ill mine this way and we'll go our own seperate ways" and end up magnetizing anyways. like they literally would not leave eachother alone.

then the mild seperation anxiety joel has when he can't find gem in the mines ("gem where have you gone?" "im right here, im just mining"). his weird admission of going crazy with the cows when separated from gem for a few minutes. and then you have gem going "come on then joel" and telling him to be careful and not die... laughing at his blunders and making light fun of him

then the domesticity of immediately bunking down. gem building a campfire and joel calling it cute. they split and share everything 50/50. they have signs outside their door with quotes on them

theyre so inherently suspicious. scott thinks theyre either going to take over the server or implode. multiple pairs go to their base and try to take some of their cows. joel gets so mad and gem deescalates. jimmy accuses joel of malicious intentions. then they lick their wounds together complaining that everyones always blaming them but at least they can rely on eachother

joel ending the episode saying he and gem will win. and the only other person hes shown interest in trying to recruit is his wife. something something my two favourite people in the same room.

both povs are a mandatory watch to get the whole picture. because they cut a lot out, and leave in other moments, and that says a lot about what interactions matter to them personally. shoutout jeffery

the entire first episode is just boy best friends slow burn yaoi with freudian slips of vulnerability and affection. i think im going to be sick

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

🎃nightmare suit groovies~🎃

***Spoilers below the cut!! Please note: The R cards (Azul, Epel, Vil, Malleus) do not have new illustrations.***

OH MY GOD STOOOOP 😭 NIGHTMARE BEFORE CHRISTMAS CHARACTER CAMEOS IN THE GROOVIES??? ?? ?????? ??!???!? ?? ??? YOU MIGHT AS GFWELL WALK RIGHT UP TO ME AND IRiP MY FRIGIGN HEART OT RIGHT NOW

wWAHASL,ADFJHHDUPGFFI42T69O38QGPEGBIP;DGN;GDN;J J WORD SQUASHED U P IN THE AMYOR'S LITTLE CAR.. . . ....... . . . ... . . .. . ...... . . . OTL With the hair pushed back like that, teeth out, and eyes lidded, Jade almost looks like Floyd here. I THPOGU TI WOULDN'T BE sURIRPISED BY HIS SMIELS ANYMORE BUT I GUESS SI AWAS WRONG... This smile's very different than his unhinged/suspicious/evil ones and his pure ones, it's charming but more on the relaxed side. I also noticed the teeth are wider than usual (again, very Floyd-like), Jade's are narrower/smaller.

I like Trey's Groovy a ton! A lot more than I thought I would, actually. The blueish lighting and him looming over Sally's pot reminds me of his Club Wear card. ahdbasdlai There's also a slight sheen to his eyes, so Trey comes off like he's fascinated by her cooking and wants to learn more about Sally's techniques. He looks slightly shady too though, like some drug dealer inspecting the goods...

FHLBOQYW8QYFAFWI LRIDDLE'S RIDING IN THE CURSED CHILDREN'S BATHTUB... It's a little terrifying how hyperdetailed Lock, Shock, and Barrel's faces are and how they're all staring right at the camera. Riddle seems so calm, glancing at you over his shoulder with a little smirk. I usually don't use this adjective for him, but it makes Riddle feel cool! And since the image is shot from a slight worm's eye view angle, it gives him the illusion of being taller than he actually is--

Go figure, you slap the mad scientist character with the mad scientist of Halloween Town. Perfect pairing, honestly. I get very similar vibes between Idia and Dr. Finkelstein as I did with Trey and Sally; Idia is showing a real interest in the good (?) doctor's work and they appear to be deep in a discussion about it. The way Idia is bending over the table adgvkadsdval it kinda gives his body a more... triangular shape... that I just KNOW bro doesn't actually have. His face here seems more elegant than usual, almost Vil-like.

Thanks for the uncalled for viewing of the underside of your boot, Sebek 💀asjldboaysvyfevfeq I CAN'T DEAL WITH THIS, he's trying so hard to come off as intimidating but I cannot see him as "the boss", even if he is posed like one. Give that jack 'o lantern some credit though, it sure is doing a fine job of supporting Sebek's big ol' beefy arm. Jack Skellington in the back is also sending me... Is he supposed to be intimidating??? That positioning just makes me think of someone leaning against a doorframe and trying to flirt by calling you their babygirl. GHBLIABFYIABFIAF ANYWAY I DON'T THINK THIS GROOVY WAS FOR ME

... wHAT THEFUCK. That was NOT what I expected of Jamil's Groovy. First was the weird pumpkin stroking, now bro's dancing with skeletons?????? IS THIS JUST WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU'REEMOTIONALLY REPREssED YOUR ENTIRE LIFE... YOU POP OFF AND DO THE MOST OUT OF PocKET THINGS FOR FUNSIES?????? Jamil looks so smug as he's doing it too, it feels like he's shittalking you like a Mean Girl while he's busting a sick dance move. (Cameo: his toof) Jack in the background also looks the most sinister of all the SSRs. That combination of laughter and showing off his teeth... Unsettling.

.

.

.

waht the hell. What HTBbr heLL. WHAT THE ACUTLA EHLLMIS THIIISISISISISSJISISISSSZ>/>?????w?f>fwlwkwfkfwjfwjkqljirtfyqnNOEGWOQG.,P57KIRJEI0RW08J:????>f>>fw>f>fw<wf<q>:q?q>v?v?v?v??gogibopobfuiibadh wnethuhw

WHYT THEUFKC FDUCC DOES THIS SLAP SO HARFZD OTL

ADSHJFIAGVTFVUOQEFVUBKQDWLGYQERGYOQF evyEROYNTHING AB OITU T THIS IS JSUT.... AKJBFLIUHADFIADFLF RIGHT UP MY lallEY... The extreme bird's eye view angle????? Jack with his arms crossed and that skeletal smirk??? Zero's little duck beak-shaped mouth?? The eerie green glow emanating from the fountain water below them? NLBVHDSKIUEGFABOGVSAEFYIPodp D nad HE WHOS HALL NOT BE NAMED V,NJ DBIOADFVIYOADFOTVFE8AYPFIEGWOBPFQEBOVGWIPEGBSNMVPOADVBN;DDBK;RWHOUGWBIQEPGNJQEG TH wE WHAYT THE FUCKCING ANGLR FRAMES HIS TITS AND MAKES HIS LEGS LOOKN EXTRA LONG, THE GRIBGKDJULBADFLBAFD CAPE WSWISHinG EVEYRWHERE, THe LIGHTONIGF FON HIS AHDNNEOMS E DAFACE, THE FUIDFSLBDFBKHAEFLBHQEFALBFEAL FA HADN TTHE FEGRIIGGING HAND HE'S OVFFERINGF TO YOU7? ? ???????? ? ?b?@??gb ? ? ? ? ? ?b>b>KNBNRIOBIGEBOYVDOGY8EANOapnjbgywt80pboqegwp,m iS THIS FUCKING BITCH ASKING FOR OUR HAND??? ? ?? ?? ?DOOahaaHAHhhghghghhghhgHHHHHhhhHHHHARRHRHGHGHGHGHHHHGHGHGHGHHHHHH HH H HHHH H H H H H I WANNNA bE SANDED TO BE PUT ouT OF MY MiSERY, I'M TAKING SO JCMUCH PSYCHICHDAMAG E I CAN'T TAKE IT I';N M GOINC CGATRAZXY. .. . . .BVL;,DFIPTOTO OT LTLTKT FLFL BHIVUASFOVUAFSA

gGUSY I THINK TI',M GDON E FOR, IT'S LEoVER FOR ME I SPENT SO LONG DENYRINH IT I DIDN'T WANNA ADMITR IT FOR MY OWN PRIDE BUT I'M DONE fRO I'M A GONRER BYE IT'S JFDAUBIADGOVUAFODUTVEFTI7EFWOIAVD;LIVOYGPGWEFQOIGYEQPgkjd TIUFQETO3R1QEFOTFQEG.5OIMH903GW9UPBAfpjFOVHDN;./'[;,KP[K,[LN,,L>:c<<l:LBHIDABIOUFPAOYGVEQBFPGWBPGHLGWBPQEFPGIAE whnEN YOU YSEE ME DNEXT I'M OGNNA BE LAid OUT IN A PIUMPKING PATCH DECATINGF CUZ THSI GROOVFY KILELD ME

[jaysng]

birthday cake with your daugther | park sunghoon

pairing: dad!sunghoon x mom!reader (ft. their kid)

genre: fluff

summary: sunghoons hardest task on your birthday was making it through the baking a cake process, because your mischievous little girl couldn’t control her hunger.

• do not copy or repost my work

the soft morning light streamed through the curtains, gently lighting up the kitchen. sunghoon stood at the island, an apron tied around his waist and flour dusting his fingers.

today was special—it was your birthday, and he wanted to make it perfect. he wasn’t exactly an expert in baking, but he was determined to make you a cake, and that had to count for something, right?

beside him sat your daughter, sori, perched on the counter with her small legs dangling. she was only three and a half, but she already had a mischievous spark in her eyes, watching everything her appa did with curiosity.

he handed her a tiny spoon to help, though most of her “helping” involved sneaking little bits of batter into her mouth when sunghoon wasn’t looking.

“sori, we need to save that for the cake, you know,” sunghoon said, a smile tugging at his lips as he glanced at her.

“but it’s yummy, appa,” she giggled, her fingers already sticky with batter.

sunghoon shook his head, chuckling. “just a little more, but we need enough for eomma’s cake, okay?”

the batter was finally ready, thick and smooth, and sunghoon carefully poured it into the pan. sori watched, her hands resting on the edge of the counter, her eyes wide. he smoothed the top of the batter and moved to place it in the oven, feeling a small sense of accomplishment. but when he turned back around, he noticed something strange—the leftover batter had a small, suspicious dent in it.

he raised an eyebrow, looking at sori. “what happened here?”

“nothing,” she said quickly, though the crumbs on her lips betrayed her.

“hmm,” sunghoon hummed, pretending to be serious. “looks like someone’s been eating more than just a little.”

sori giggled, clearly unbothered by his fake interrogation. sunghoon couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head. “you’re going to ruin your appetite.”

the smell of the cake filled the house as it baked, the scent of vanilla warm and comforting. sunghoon checked the time—still plenty of it before you would wake up. he turned his attention to the frosting, starting to whip it up while sori hovered nearby, occasionally peeking over his shoulder.

“appa,” she whispered, “can i taste?”

“just wait a little longer,” sunghoon said, gently nudging her away with a smile. “we’ll eat it all together when it’s done.”

but when sunghoon was distracted for just a moment—reaching for the decorations—sori took her chance. with a quick glance to make sure he wasn’t watching, she leaned over the cake that had been cooling on the counter. her tiny fingers dug into the soft, warm sponge, pulling out bite-sized pieces, one after the other.

sunghoon turned back and froze. there it was—a small cave, hollowed out in the middle of the cake, and beside it, sori stood proudly with crumbs all over her fingers and face.

“sori!” he exclaimed, his eyes wide as he tried not to laugh. she looked up at him, her expression innocent but completely unbothered.

“i was hungry, appa.”

sunghoon sighed, crouching down to her level. “oh no, what are we going to do now?” his voice was soft, more amused than upset. it was hard to be mad when she looked so proud of herself.

sori just giggled again, not realizing the chaos she’d caused. sunghoon ran a hand through his hair, staring at the cake. “i guess we’ll have to fix it.”

he wasn’t sure how, but after a few minutes of thinking, he decided to just cover up the damage with extra frosting. it wouldn’t be perfect, but it was better than nothing. as he spread the frosting over the cake, sunghoon kept glancing at sori, shaking his head in disbelief but smiling all the same. she reminded him so much of you—full of life, cheeky, and impossible not to love.

once the cake was finally done, sunghoon stepped back to admire his work. it wasn’t perfect—definitely a little lopsided, and the frosting was a bit thick where he’d tried to cover sori’s “cave,” but it would do.

“okay,” he said, turning to sori. “let’s go wake eomma.”

he picked her up, her small arms wrapping around his neck, and the two of them tiptoed quietly down the hallway toward your bedroom. the house was still, and as they entered the room, the soft sound of your breathing filled the space. sunghoon set sori gently on the bed, and she immediately crawled over to your side, her little hands patting your arm.

“eomma,” she whispered, her voice full of excitement. “wake up!”

you stirred, slowly opening your eyes to the sight of sori’s bright, smiling face. her cheeks were flushed with excitement, and her hands were still slightly sticky. then, you noticed sunghoon standing at the doorway with a soft smile, holding a cake—your birthday cake.

“happy birthday,” he said, his voice low and warm.

you sat up, blinking the sleep from your eyes, a smile spreading across your face. sori wasted no time climbing into your lap, her little hands on your cheeks, pressing sloppy kisses to your face.

“appa and i made a cake!” she announced proudly. “but i ate some.”

sunghoon’s quiet laugh filled the room, and he walked over, placing the cake on the bedside table. “yeah, she left her mark on it,” he said, his eyes crinkling in amusement.

you glanced at the cake, noticing the slightly uneven surface, and couldn’t help but laugh. it wasn’t perfect, but it was the most perfect thing you could’ve asked for.

“thank you,” you whispered, pulling sori close to kiss her forehead, then reaching for sunghoon, who leaned down to kiss you gently on the lips.

“let’s eat before sori finishes the rest of it,” sunghoon joked, sitting down beside you.

the three of you shared slices of the slightly lopsided cake, laughter filling the room as sunghoon recounted the morning’s adventure in the kitchen.

it didn’t matter that the cake wasn’t perfect. in this moment, with sunghoon and sori by your side, it was everything.

do not copy or repost my work @/jaysng