#but if i’m breaking the rules and having real chocolate i WILL go for white

[lonelyroommp3]

white chocolate alix? really? come on, it tastes like straight fondant. it's like eating sugary butter 😳 how.

that’s the APPEAL!!!!

[earlgreydream]

death of me.

| loki x reader | angst | fluff |

anon requested. Imagine s/o has the same powers like Wanda and after the death of Loki she made her own reality where he was alive. 

a/n: this one took me a long time to get to, and I altered the request a bit, but here it is! ❤️✨

cw: mentions of death/murder (for the sake of humanity and otherwise), mentions of blood

Loki’s death had changed you.

After losing the love of your life, you were never the same. You would’ve burned down the world for one more second with him. The grief ripped a hole in you, and you ripped a hole in reality. 

That’s how you ended up in a fake Asgard, in a fake life, with a fake Loki. But it felt so real. 

You were in love again, running through the halls of the palace in gowns, chasing your lover, the god of mischief. You squealed as he wrapped his arms around you, kissing you passionately. 

“I love you!” Loki kissed your cheeks, making you shriek with giggles. Thor smiled at the two of you, the young lovers and leaders of the Aesir realm. 

Your wedding was the biggest celebration the realm had ever had. White flowers filled the golden halls of the palace, stars glittering over everything. You were surrounded by everyone who cared about you, celebrating your starstruck love. Music, dancing, and feasting filled the city, the festival of your marriage bringing everyone together. 

You and Loki were beloved leaders. Your subjects were always welcomed in the palace, and the gardens, surrounding you with love. 

You and Loki sat on the throne, and he smiled as he placed his golden helm on your head. You giggled, magically changing your outfit to match his, green and black leather. Laughter echoed in the halls, and the royal guards watched you both in amusement. 

Those were the happy memories. 

Loki was stuck in the past, and you were stuck in your fake reality. The instruction of the Time Variance Authority weighed heavy on him. You have to kill Y/N. She’s a threat to space and time, and you must kill her now before she rips a hole in my reality. Loki was sick at the thought of killing you, the love of his life, before you even had the opportunity to commit your war crimes.

“What will she do?” Loki asked, and the leader sighed.

“After your death, she rips a hole in reality. She enslaves an entire realm to live in her memory fantasy of having you alive again.”

“It’s in the past? What memories does she hold?” Loki asked. The two of you were together, and you were in love, but it was still the early stages of your relationship, and he had no idea what was to come. 

“Your wedding, and your rule over Asgard.”

Loki’s felt his heart crack, breaking for you. For your grief, for your pain, and for everything he was about to rob the two of you of. 

“You must do it, Loki. I know you love her, but it is your duty. The longer you wait, the harder it will be for you. If it is not done by tomorrow, you will have failed.”

Loki went home to you, and you ran to him as soon as you heard the door open. Your arms went around his neck, and he caught you as you jumped into him. The pain that spread through his chest was suffocating, and he held you tightly. 

“Loki, I made cookies! Come here, you’re going to love them. I used chocolate, your favorite!” You announced, taking his hand and pulling him into your shared kitchen, unsuspecting of Loki’s mission. 

You beamed as you held out a plate to him, and he took one off the top. He bit into it, savoring the efforts of your love. He kissed you sweetly, and when he pulled away, you saw the sadness in his eyes. 

“Loki, what is it?” you asked, setting down the tray and reaching out to touch him. A shaky breath left the young god, tears welling at his waterline.

“It’s you.”

“It’s me? Are you breaking up with me? What have I done, Loki?” You asked in disbelief, your mind somersaulting over every action of the last few weeks.

“You’ve done nothing wrong. It’s what you will do.” 

The TVA. Loki’s conditional release from being a permanent resident of a Valhallan grave was using his magic for good. You supported him, but now he was frightening you.

“What have I done in the future?” You asked softly, and Loki looked at you in misery. 

“You enslave the entire Asgardian realm. You hold them hostage, torturing them. You rip a hole in reality, and make everything collapse. You destroy everything,” Loki explained with a sob. 

You stared at him in shock, processing. You knew what he told you was true, because they could see the future far before you could ever anticipate. You just couldn’t imagine why you would do that. You were good, and you loved Loki, and loved his people. You never imagined yourself becoming evil, or a villain.

“Why? What turns me evil?” 

Loki looked down at the floor, a deep sigh leaving him. You held his face and made him look at you. You had to know.

“I die in battle, protecting my brother. The grief changes you. We get married, we become rulers of Asgard, and you can’t handle the loss. You tear a hole in reality to live in your memories of us. You love me too much.” 

You were crying with Loki now, understanding why he was so upset. 

“I love you, and I don’t blame you,” he whispered, kissing your lips. You kissed him back, emotion and heartbreak washing over the two of you. 

“You have to stop me, Loki.”

“I know,” he whispered, and you nodded, swallowing your grief.

“I love you so much, Loki, it’s okay,” you promised, and he sobbed as an Asgardian blade appeared in his hand. 

“I don’t want to do this, you’re the love of my life,” Loki breathed, and you squeezed his hand, kissing him for the last time.

“You have to. I love you, Loki. The sun will shine on us again,” you nodded, giving him permission to fulfill his mission. 

Loki wept as he pushed the blade through your heart, and you slowly sank into his arms, crimson staining the white dress you wore. 

“I’m so sorry.” 

Loki took you to Asgard. You were buried in Valhalla, led to rest by the Valkyrie. Loki honored you, and carried on the legacy of your love. Every subject of Asgard told their children about the princess who loved their king so much, she was willing to tear apart reality for him. You became the subject of legend, and a hero for Aesir women. 

For Loki, there was never another like you. 

[thegeneralguy]

A good role model

Hello! Thanks to @amalianetwork for helping me out with this story. Its a bit shorter than what I usually post on here, but it struck some heart strings inside of me. I hope you enjoy it.

Twitter | Blog

“Come on Matt! We’re going to be late for the festival!”

The excited shrieks came from a young child not older than ten years of age. His wavy blonde hair was encased in a blue baseball cap, and he was wearing an old button shirt. He was grabbing the hand from an older young man, pulling him forward with haste. Both boys looked very alike, age being the most differentiating factor between them.

“Ease up Cole, your number starts at seven. There’s plenty of time.”

“Yes, but I want to rehearse one time before the show. Mrs. Davis said all kids in our class had to meet an hour before to practice our song”

Matt advanced reluctantly, feeling uneasy in his attempt at formal attire. He adjusted his badly-knotted tie and tried his best in accommodating his oversized shirt. But he knew it was a necessary sacrifice, because this was supposed to be Cole’s “big night”. He would do anything for his little brother, even if it meant dressing as a buffon. The boys were rushing through the parking lot of the local theatre, amongst a sea of other families heading to the entrance. They entered the building and immediately headed backstage to deliver Cole to his class. Matt made sure his small bowtie was in place, but when he tried to take the cap from him, Cole swatted his hand away.

“Cole, you know you’ll get in trouble if you throw a fit over that cap again. All the kids in your class have to be dressed the same.”

Cole pouted and grabbed his head with both hands, securing it on his head.

“Please let me keep it. I’m scared to perform without it.”

“Okay you win. Just this one time though. You’re a big boy now, there are some rules you have to follow.”

“You’re the best Matt!”, said the little boy hugging his brother.

“Just remember to have lots of fun! I’ll be watching you from the front rows. And remember, once your act is over we gotta go.”

“That's not fair! Mrs. Davis is gonna take us all for pizza once the show is over.”

“I’m sorry C. You know Aunt Gertrude doesn’t like it when we go out late.”

“I don’t like Aunt Gertrude. She’s mean.”

Matt kept a straight face not to give a bad example, but he knew what his brother was talking about. Their aunt was a real menace sometimes. Especially when her rules were disobeyed.

“Don’t be like that buddy. Aunt Gertrude has been nice to us, so we have to obey the rules of her house. Besides, I’ll take you for pizza on the weekend. What do you say?”

“Yay! Thanks Matt. I’ll hurry up after the show, I promise. See you later!”

Cole then turned around and sprinted towards his group. Matt looked at his brother tenderly, remembering all they have gone through together. The blue cap was originally his, a gift from their father. They never had a lot to begin with, and after his parents were gone, the cap was one of the only mementos he had from them. He remembered hugging it terrified, as the police explained to him with gruesome detail for a twelve year old how his parents had been killed in a mugging. Cole had been only five at the time. Their aunt was their only living relative, so they were placed in her house. Cole couldn’t stop crying during the first night, so Matt gave him the blue cap and told him as long as he had it, his father would be there with him. Five years had passed, and the little boy still took the cap everywhere. Convincing Cole to take it off to wash it was a real hassle sometimes, but Matt managed. He was a good big brother after all.

Matt went to his seat and watched the recital in silence. Group after group they performed, excited families bursting in applause every time their kid went onstage. The young man was growing increasingly nervous, watching the minutes turn into an hour. The show was taking too long, which meant arriving at his aunt’s too late and having to deal with her wrath. He was lost in thought when suddenly Cole’s group was onstage. He cheered and applauded his little brother, who along with his classmates presented a potpourri of popular songs. He immediately recognized him due to the blue garment sticking out of the sea of white shirts. Once the number was done, he stood up from his seat and went to meet his brother backstage to take him to their aunt’s.

Their Aunt Gertrude was a solitary woman, preferring to live alone and far away from any other neighbor. The little house stood right at the edge of the woods, standing lonely amongst the dark trees. The car was parked on the driveway, so Matt knew immediately their aunt was home. He prepared mentally for the fit she was about to throw when she saw them coming in through the door. Once they made it inside, he sent Cole straight to his room and went into the living room, where his aunt was sitting on her usual chair watching TV.

“So, look who finally decided to show up. This isn’t a hotel you know.”, said the fat woman looking hatefully at the scrawny teenager.

“I know Aunt Gertrude. Cole had a school event he couldn’t miss, so we stayed out until late.”

The woman sneered at Matt, and then continued watching her show.

“You know misbehavior has consequences right? You were out past dinner time, so there won't be any dinner for you.”

Matt felt the rage coming up from his stomach. He disliked the woman a lot, but he knew she was the only reason the brothers were allowed to stay together. She knew that too, so she made sure to exploit that fact every time she could. He didn’t mind missing dinner, he was used to it. But Cole had to eat, or his stomach would hurt again and he wouldn't be able to sleep.

“I can miss out on dinner today and tomorrow if you want, but let Cole eat something. It was a tough day for him.”

“You should’ve thought that before breaking the rules. Rules are necessary, or else you will end up like your good for nothing dad. He got my sister killed, you know. Only a bad person does that.”

Matt tightened his fists so hard his nails dug into his skin causing some bleeding. His father was his aunt’s favorite subject, always belittling and berating him. But he was a good man, very hardworking. A real example for Matt. His only mistake was being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Don’t you dare talk about him…”, he grumbled quietly. His aunt let out a cruel cackle, and glared at him angrily.

“Or what? You are just like him, you know. A useless dead weight under my roof. But not for long. You got one more night. After that, you’re turning into an adult, which means you gotta earn yourself a life.”

Matt had been so busy with his brother that he had completely forgotten about his birthday the day after. His aunt had been telling him she was going to kick him out that same day, but he always thought she said that only to intimidate him. Thinking about leaving Cole with that monster alone sent a chill down his spine.

“Are you serious?”

“Do I look like I’m joking you little asshole? As soon as you’re eighteen, you’re legally not my problem anymore. Besides, it’s good you learn how the world works. Not that your father ever taught you that. In fact, I think Cole was lucky to grow up without his bad example!”, said the woman laughing loudly. “Now, better get your shit ready. I’m calling farmer Joe tomorrow to see if he has some job for you. If you’re lucky he might even let you stay in the barn with the rest of his boys. Now, get out of my sight. My next show’s about to start.”

Matt just turned around and left completely speechless, hearing the loud music from the TV and his aunt laughing as he went upstairs to his room. Cole was already showered and wearing his pajamas, the blue cap still on his head. Matt sat down next to him on his bed, trying to keep his composure and not burst into tears.

“Listen Cole, I have to tell you something,'' he said, his voice faltering as he struggled to find the right words. “You know tomorrow is my birthday, right?”

“Of course! I wouldn’t forget. I even wrote it in my calendar to get you some chocolate.”, he said excitedly before realizing he just ruined the surprise. “Oh no, I just ruined your present.”

“No buddy, it's okay. You know I love chocolate.”, said Matt grabbing the little boy’s head. “But listen, tomorrow I’ll be eighteen. And that's a very special number. So special, that people invite you to participate in certain activities!”

“What do you mean?”, asked Cole with a puzzled look on his face.

“Well, farmer Joe has invited me to his special club on his land, so I’m very excited I can go now. There’s only one small problem, I have to go sleep there too so I can do everything the guys there do.”

Cole just stared at his brother, tears welling up behind his eyes.

“You’re gonna leave?”

“Don’t be sad buddy. This is a great opportunity for me! Besides, I’ll come to visit you every day, I promise.”

Cole threw himself at Matt, his little arms embracing him as strong as they could. Tears ran down his rosy cheeks, and he could barely articulate the words due to the knot in his throat.

“But I don’t want you to go! I don’t want to be alone in this house. I’m scared.”

“I know buddy, I know.”, said Matt hugging his little brother. “But listen, remember what I told you about that cap? As long as you have it, dad’s going to be here with you. And so will I.”

Both brothers embraced for hours, refusing to let each other go. Cole cried until he fell asleep, so Matt tucked him into bed and waited until it was late enough to go down and steal some food for the boy. His aunt went to bed just before midnight, so he had to wait until she was gone to go to the pantry. He was almost falling asleep when he heard the TV going off, and the heavy steps of his aunt going into her room. He hesitantly stepped out of their bedroom, and swiftly went down to get some food for Cole. His body was very light, so that helped him move silently on the wooden floor. He brought up some snacks, leaving them on Cole’s night table, completely missing the clock just striking midnight.

He went to the bathroom to get ready for bed. Taking off the horrible oversized shirt he stared at himself in the mirror. He was practically just skin and bones, lacking the proper nutrition and exercise for a good development during puberty. His dirty blonde hair was pulled back on a bun, looking just a shade darker than his brother’s. His aunt was right, he was pathetic, scrawny and weak. Barely a fitting example for Cole. But he didn’t want his brother to grow up without him. It was already bad enough he had to grow up without a dad, only to have his big brother be taken away too. He wished that both of them could stay together. That he was enough for his little brother, so he could provide him with the life he deserved.

The lights in the bathroom flickered, and the window was suddenly opened by a strong gust of wind, startling Matt. He started to get lightheaded, grabbing the small sink to prevent himself from falling. “It’s probably hunger”, he said to himself. But the more seconds passed, the worse he felt. He started sweating cold, drops falling down his face and his pale body. He watched a shadow creep over his skin, thinking he was starting to faint from starvation. When he raised his hand to touch the darkness, rough bristles greeted his fingertips. He was growing hair, all over his body. He watched it get longer and thicker, a thick mat covering his chest, and crawling down his flat stomach painting a thick treasure trail on his skin. Tufts of hair poked out from under his arms, his sparse armpit hair getting far denser. The shadow then climbed up his neck, fully flourishing on his face to form a short beard. Matt felt its roughness with the palm of his hand, fully enthralled by the sensation.

He then felt his bones elongate, shooting him a few inches towards the roof and lengthening his limbs. He looked like that creature slender-something kids were so obsessed about. Once his skeleton finished its growth, the muscles followed suit. He felt incredible heat emanating from his body, as each muscle twitched and grew to enormous size. Size packed on his chest, fully forming two massive pillow-like pecs sticking out from his torso. His cleavage was so deep he could probably put his entire thumb in it, and probably crush it too if he squeezed hard. Muscle packed on his shoulders as well, growing like two bowling balls. It made him look monstrously wide, fully condemning him to a life of having to go through doors sideways. His arms surged with power and grew as well, fully surpassing the width his legs had before. Thick hairy pythons hung to each side of him, resting at an angle due to the thickness of his triceps. His back then rounded out like a shield and expanded into a hairy muscular landscape. The lats were so big they looked like the could fall off of him at any moment.

He heard his stomach grumble, as it blew forward sticking out just a few inches behind his chest. Thick abs could be seen on the curve of his belly. His ass blew his dress pants into oblivion, each cheek swelling like a Christmas turkey. The legs followed suit, thickening into titanic proportions, powerful enough to sustain such a heavy top. Even his feet grew a few sizes, fully completing his transformation. Matt just stared at his new body speechless, feeling control over each fiber. He flexed his big arms, and bounced his heavy chest. A deep chuckle left his throat, and he realized his voice grew much deeper as well. He was so entertained by his new figure, he missed the clumps of hair falling from his head. His hair thinned out a little bit, and shortened itself into a clean cut, contrasting with its previous unkempt image.

Matt looked like a new man. His kid used to tell him he looked the size of a barn, just like that Disney song he liked from the film with the talking furniture. He was very bad with names, but he knew what movies his son liked. Matt scratched his head, confused by the thought of having a child. He was only eighteen, barely old enough to have a kid. But a body like this couldn’t belong to a young kid. A body like this took years of dedication, of pain and sweat, of discipline. He looked like the perfect dad, strong enough to protect, and big enough to climb over like a jungle gym. Matt smiled looking at himself in the mirror. His features changed and rearranged themselves into those of a masculine man. His nose was bigger and his brow stuck further out. Even a cleft formed on his now square jaw. He looked tough, but also lovable.

The maelstrom of memories fully blew Matt’s mind away, turning him into a perfect dad. He felt his dick snake up under his belly, and his balls drop lower and heavier like a mature plume, virile enough to spread his seed wherever he wanted. The rush of testosterone triggered more changes in him. His muscles got denser, more lived in. Crow feet printed themselves next to his eyes, and his skin got rougher fully aging two full decades.

“I’m one sexy motherfucker.”, grunted Matt, flexing before the mirror. He dedicated years of hard work and discipline to his body, and it showed. He loved the tight feeling of a shirt about to burst due to his titanic arms, or how the buttons popped open on their own due to his heavy chest. But even his glorious physique wasn’t his most valuable treasure. That was his son.

Reality rearranged itself around Matt, as memories of Cole growing up with him changed into those of a father raising his son. He remembered how tiny he looked when he held him in his arms, or how scared he looked when Matt dropped him in kindergarten for the first time. He remembered the recitals, the little league games, the birthday parties, the nights with Cole on his bed due to a nightmare, the camping trips. Everything he did, and had, was for his son. He was happy to grow up next to him, so he could teach him about the same hard work and discipline he put into his own life. Hopefully, Cole would grow up to be a good man like his father. And with those genes, hopefully big and strong too.

When Matt came back to his senses, he was standing in a nicely furnished bathroom. He adjusted the glasses on his face, and checked himself one last time before going out. The short sleeved shirt looked perfectly fitted to his big body, his arms almost ripping the tight sleeves apart. He came out of the bathroom to find the luxurious interior of a suburban home. He wanted his kid to have all his necessities covered. The memory of the tiny house in the woods and the monster within fully erased from existence.

“Come on Cole, you don’t wanna miss out on a good pizza, do you?”, he shouted, his deep bass shaking the foundations of the house.

“I’m coming dad!”

Young Cole came rushing down the stairs. His blonde hair shined brighter, and his blue eyes sparkled with excitement. He took his coat and headed towards the front door, where his dad was waiting for him. Matt noticed the small blue cap on the little table next to the door.

“Aren’t you gonna wear your cap?”, he said, handing it to his son. Cole just smiled at his dad, and turned the cap away.

“I’m not scared anymore dad. I don’t need it.”

Matt just smiled and opened the door for Cole. The happy family then headed out into the sunshine to live the rest of their lives together. Nothing would be able to separate them.

[cripplingaddictions]

How the Haikyuu guys sleep

Genre: fluff I guess

Warnings: half x reader half general headcanons idk what I was trying to write

A/N: this may crush some dreams, sorry

Karasuno:

Daichi: he snores like a dad I’m sorry, you can’t get a full night’s sleep when he snores in your ear like that. Stiff cuddler - you see the way he lies. He’s like a log

Suga: doesn’t snore but he whispers in his sleep, you have no idea what he’s saying because it’s very soft. He smells nice so his pillow always smells astronomically good. Cradles you like a baby if you have trouble sleeping. Wakes you up with tickles

Asahi: a soft snorer but he does that thing where he breathes in and chokes on his spit and ends up sputtering everywhere 😭 Latches onto your arm and his hair always gets in his way somehow

Tanaka: he grumbles?? like a bear?? Kind of like talking in his sleep but it’s really aggressive for some reason?? His bedsheets haven’t been washed in years

Nishinoya: you can’t even find his bed because it is so covered in clothes and other rubbish. He has to be a sleepwalker, come on. You’ll find him curled up in one of the kitchen cabinets in the morning

Ennoshita: loves setting the atmosphere with scented candles before blowing them out to go to sleep to the nice smell (has definitely forgotten to blow them out and almost started a house fire) Good cuddles, soft, very nice 👍

Kageyama: sleeps with his back turned to you and falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow. He just says “goodnight” rolls over and “😑” Wakes up way too early for practise or to go for a run

Hinata: has a smile on his face when he sleeps!! vv cute!! Curls into the tiniest ball too!! vv tiny!! You have to be the big spoon, I don’t make the rules. Probably hugs his pillow or a volleyball

Yamaguchi: bright red if you’re sharing the bed with him 🥺 probably doesn’t sleep for ages because he’s so nervous. I don’t know why but I feel that he needs to have like a hot chocolate or tea before bed

Tsukishima: sleeps with his headphones on and listens to music. Either that or he needs white noise. Sleeps like a pole, the only way you are getting cuddles is if you hug him 💀

Nekoma:

Kuroo: we all know he sleeps on his stomach with his head squished between two pillows. Don’t know how he breathes but ok. Latches you to him with one arm and strokes your hair. Ceo of breakfast in bed the next morning, with his cat/s of course 

Kenma: he doesn’t sleep

Lev: your blanket is his now 🙃 and his legs get in the way, you might even get kicked in the face. Other than that, I feel like he’s a really pretty sleeper. The blankets all are a mess and his limbs are everywhere but his face is really pretty

Yaku: finds it hard to sleep because he’s so stressed because of Lev. Needs warm milk to fall asleep and the conditions need to be just right. Help him meditate a bit and relax him then he’ll give you some nice cuddles

Yamamoto: just like Tanaka he grumbles in his sleep and has really crusty sheets. He doesn’t cuddle you, you’d have to fight his waifu body pillow to earn cuddle rights and establish dominance

Aoba Johsai:

Oikawa: fakes snoring softly because he likes you’ll find it cute, it’s annoying. It used to be that overdramatic whistling exhale but now its real. Immaculate cuddler tho, definitely gives you a shirt of his to wear to bed

Iwaizumi: he sweats so much in his sleep... it’s gross. Mucks around with the temperature of the ac way too much because he gets too hot. Then he gets too cold, you get it. Strong arms to cuddle with, only if he used them

Matsukawa: definitely snores, but not as dad-like like Daichi. Is the type to stick one leg out of the covers to keep his body temperature just right. That leg is used to hug yours when you two cuddle

Hanamaki: sleeps naked,, kind of uncomfy if you’re in there as well. Luckily he sleeps fairly still so that he isn’t flinging his stuff all over you if you get what a mean 😬

Kyotani: you’d think he’d be another growler, but he’s dead silent. If you didn’t sleep with your head on his chest to hear his heartbeat you’d think he was dead. Also a pretty sleeper, idky but I think he’s pretty 👉👈

Fukurodani:

Bokuto: it’s canon that this baby sleeps with the biggest smile on his face (like owl father like crow son) Hoots in his sleep!!! Inhales deeply and exhales like “hoooot~”. Biggest cuddle bug, please hold him close to your chest

Akaashi: ceo of pretty sleepers right here. Always reads before bed and sometimes gets lost in the pages that you fall asleep on his lap. That’s when he turns off the lamp. Loves playing with your hair or having you play with his

Konoha: keeps his window open to sleep, he likes the natural breeze. I reckon he’d get a little annoyed if you were a clingy sleeper because he likes his own space

Shiratorizawa:

Ushijima: canon that he sleeps with a volleyball on his bed. Definitely sleeps like a brick wall (to match his personality) but anyways. Thinks that bed is for sleeping, doesn't get why you want to cuddle him

Tendo: sleeps with his eyes open- I’m kidding that’d be terrifying. Sleeps with Pokemon plushies like the cutie he is 🥺 Hugs you with all his might the entire night, the plushies between you, arghhh he’s so cute. Please tell him he’s beautiful before he falls asleep, he’ll be in such a good mood the next day

Semi: sleeping playlists, one for every night of the week. Plays it all night and has his morning one queued up for you to wake up to. Also a very pretty sleeper with the best smelling sheets

Goshiki: restless sleep-talker. Rolls about, snores - when he’s not snoring he’s monologuing whatever is in his dream. Tiny spoon, not little spoon, tiny spoon, hug him

Inarizaki:

Atsumu: menace. Literally argues with Osamu in his sleep, even acts it out. Blanket stealer, but has to dramatically tug it off you to emphasise his argument you’re hearing every word of 🙄 Genuinely doesn’t know that he does it

Osamu: as quiet and brilliant of a sleeper he is, with the softest cuddles, the best part is how he wakes you up. Soft kisses, soft sunlight, and his cooking. Definitely insists that you wear one of his jumpers to bed

Aran: perfect man, soft as a teddy bear. Bit of a snorer though, but is trying to fix it because he thinks it bothers you. Like I said: perfect man. Big strong arms to hold you in

Suna: enjoys cuddles the most I reckon, he finds it comforting. A spinet sleeper also, but his breathing pattern is really nice to fall asleep to. instead of a pretty sleeper, he somehow is a hot sleeper

Kita: because of how much he values the process, his bed is so neat and perfect. The type to flip his pillow to the cold side. Plays a rainy-day podcast, and has ambient lighting. So relaxing to share a bed with, honestly

Date Tech:

Aone: soft boy, teddy bear. Very awkward at first but be patient with him please😇. Large bed for a large boy, plenty of space. But he tends to stay in one place holding you so softly like he could break you

Koganegawa: he’s such an inviting sleeper, I can’t describe it. He looks so cozy and happy that you just want to join him, ya know? Talks in his sleep too, but he says stuff like “can I be your friend?” and “you’re so cool”

Other Teams:

Sakusa: his bed is perfect, clean sheets every single night, especially if you’re sharing with him. Fifty-step skincare routine he does before bed. Let’s say he’s comfortable enough to cuddle you, he cradles the back of your head. Also loves to sleep on your chest and have you rake your nails along his spine 🙈

Terushima: another hot sleeper, great cuddles too. I feel that he parties a lot so he doesn’t sleep until 2 or 3 am when he’s not because he’s ruined his sleep schedule 

Hoshiumi: aggressive cuddler. Will hug you so tight. Sleeps halfway down the bed in a little ball surrounded by pillows. Coos like a bird, but he does that aggressively too

[quietmyfearswith]

was your favorite ; bucky barnes x fem!reader

status — completed oneshot

word count — 4,152 words

summary — in which bucky barnes still lives with his ex-girlfriend following their break up.

warnings —fluff?? angst?? ex to lovers, sexual innuendo (just one) cursing i think, sad!insecure!bucky

pairing — bucky barnes x fem!reader

a/n — it too has been long since i got to write for bucky???? anyway i’d love to hear feedback :D also if you choose to follow me please have your age/age range stated in your bio.. 

tagging —​ @la-cey​ @pedropcl​  @slutforcevans @iloveshawnieboi

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Buck! Have you seen where my cardigan is?” Y/N was bent down over the dryer as she was ruffling through the pile of clothes she placed on the machine to dry but was too lazy to get it out and fold them. The super soldier being addressed to lifted his head from reading the newspaper to cast a worried glance on the woman, “I don’t know; I just did my laundry and I don’t think any of your clothes got mixed up with mine.”

With a huff she got up from her kneeling position, making her hit her head into the top of the machine, then walked away from their laundry room, groaning and rubbing the part of her head that hit the machine; joining his presence in the kitchen and grabbing a glass of water she pouted as she  thought of where her sweater was. “Why are you looking for the cardigan anyway? And which one is it?”

Biting her bottom lip, she avoided eye contact with his blue eyes as she stammered out, “You know, it was the one you gave me.” Placing the paper down on the breakfast bar, he leaned closer and pouted at her, “I’m hurt, doll; I knew we broke up but I never thought you were petty enough to throw away my gifts.”

Squinting her eyes at him with a mocking pout, “Ha ha, you know it’s that I don’t treasure your gifts, Buck.” Feeling left out from the whole conversation, Alpine jumped up on the countertops and snuggled herself to Y/N’s stomach; letting her fingers scratch the white fur of the needy cat, “Al, can you go tell your dad how exaggerated he’s being?”

Scoffing, he snatched Alpine from his ex girlfriend's arms and covered his cat’s whole face with his metal hand as if shielding her from evil, “Don’t you dare play favorites! Not with my child who was mine first before she was yours.”

“Let’s be honest Buck, she always cuddles up to my side every time we watch a movie,” Y/N jabbed at him before moving to get her bag, slinging it on her shoulder. Bucky’s blue eyes followed her form from when she picked up her purse in the living room and was about to speak until the sound of someone knocking on their door cut them both off. “I’ll get it,” She placed a hand on his pec and tapped it, “I was leaving anyway.”

The super soldier was thankful that she quickly removed her palm from his chest so she wouldn’t hear how fast his chest was beating; despite having broken up a few months ago, he still gets flustered under her touch. “Hey Steve, how are you?” The Captain hugged her as he entered their apartment, “I’m good; you going somewhere?”

Nodding, she moved out of their apartment and waved the two super soldiers goodbye, “I am! Meeting up with some friends today; bye you two!” When she left the flat, Steve smirked at Bucky, “I got to say two more months of you two living together or not getting back together and I’m gonna lose this bet I have with Sam.”

Expertly, Steve dodged the crumpled up facial tissue Bucky threw at him as he scowled, “Why are you here anyway, punk?” Alpine jumped off Bucky’s arms and settled herself on her bed by the television as Bucky began cleaning up his mug and bowl. “Well jerk, I wanted to come over and talk about the mission.”

After placing all the utensils in the sink, Bucky looked at his best friend with a scowl, “What mission? We both don’t go anymore and just train the recruits.” Loving how riled up his best friend was being, the former captain chuckled loudly as he held his hands up since he got caught, “Okay you caught me. I was just bored at the compound and wanted to swing by.”

A soapy hand pointed to the door as the brunette said, “Well you swung by and said hi; now leave.” Planting his bum firm on one of the bar stools instead of leaving, Steve shot a serious glance on his best friend, “I will after I get the truth out of you.”

Childishly, the metal hand sprayed some water on the blonde who yelled out in surprise upon feeling his face dampen with water, “Real mature, Buck!”

“Says the guy who visited my home because he was bored and decided to play investigator on me!”

Laughing at his friend’s antics and frustrated tone, Steve sighed, “Come on, pal, be honest with yourself this time; why is it you and Y/N still live together even after breaking up?” After moving to place the set of cutleries to dry, Bucky was wiping his flesh hand with a towel as he looked at his friend with furrowed eyebrows. When he was met however with a mixture of worry and stern glance, the former Winter Soldier sighed as he relaxed his brows and he planted his palms on the granite top, “Well it’s beneficial for the both of us.”

“How is it beneficial? You guys are ex with benefits?”

“Idiot! Not like that,” Bucky quickly clarified, “Economically benefit, with inflation and capitalism increasing the cost of living, it helps us save big on rent.” Steve had his mouth hung agape in disbelief at the bullshit his best friend was selling on him. “Economically benefit? You both can afford a high luxury penthouse with both your salaries alone,” His arms opened wide as he referred to their current flat, “And you chose to live in this compact two bedroom apartment following your breakup? You’re not fooling me, pal.”

After grabbing a couple of beers from the fridge and handing one to Steve after he opened both, Bucky gulped down the grainy beverage he sighed out loud as he confessed, “Maybe part of me hopes we both can get back together,” He had to shoot Steve a look when the blonde squealed excitedly at his confession, “But we both just somewhat talked about how much of a hassle it is if we both moved out and during that time we just signed a new lease so it made sense at the time.”

“I didn’t need to learn the last part, you could have just said you wished to get back together and that would have made me happy,” Steve explained before drinking down almost half of the bottle. Rolling his eyes, Bucky walked to the living room and settled himself on the couch — Alpine too followed him and settled herself on his lap, her distinct way of seeking attention — as he stroked her fur and replied, “Well good thing I didn’t really ask for what you wanted, no? Hold on, what are you really here for, by the way?”

Taking the loveseat that was adjacent from where Bucky was sitting, Steve plopped down as he grabbed the remote off their coffee table and turned the television on, “Did you forget that I was coming over to watch the game?”

“And you couldn’t watch it on your own at your living quarter which is bigger and even has the latest television model?”

Steve threw his head back in laughter at his friend’s remark, “Well I could; but the thing is if I didn’t you would probably be grinching your life away,” He tipped his bottle to Alpine who was sprawled over his lap as his metal fingers were delicately scratching her belly, “By the looks of it, you’ve already achieved step one of being a grinch.”

His flesh hand grabbed for one of the throw pillows that Y/N bought first when they moved into this apartment and successfully struck his friend’s head, “Apologize to Alpine this instant!”

A scoff plus an offended look was Steve’s reaction before turning his head back to the game, “Dick! You knew I was kidding! Is this how you are with Y/N, hm? No wonder she broke up with you.”

It was a sensitive topic that Bucky never fully disclosed with any of the friends; somehow he felt that what happened between the two of them should stay with them. And there were many instances where Bucky wanted to tell someone what happened just so he knew how to reconcile with her — but somehow there was always a reason that prevented him from doing so.

“Punk, how would you go about asking your ex to get back together?” His question had the former Captain America smiling; even though his entire face was focused on the game on the screen, the pending conversation had his attention far more than the actual sport. “Well I don’t know, it would depend on how I broke up with that ex.”

Bucky knew what he was doing — he was fishing for more information regarding how things went down. And maybe he does actually have a suggestion. Without going into much detail, he answered, “The breakup seemed mutual and beneficial at first but as time went on it seems to not be the case anymore.”

“What kind of riddle is that, Shakespeare?!”

Somewhat pleased with his confused state, he chuckled, “That’s all the details you’re going to get about my breakup with Y/N,” Part of Bucky was offended with how his Steve let out a disappointed grunt but continued on, “Right now, what’s more important is I get back with her.”

It had been almost an hour and yet the only sounds that could be heard were the announcers detailing the game and the cheers coming from the stadium as the two centenarians thought about how to go about Bucky’s current dilemma. Until Steve broke the silence as he placed his empty beer bottle by the leg of the coffee table, “Why not just be honest and tell her you want to get back with her?”

“It’s not that easy,” Came his quick response; too quick, Steve suspected. Turning slightly to face him, he saw how Alpine now had Bucky’s attention as he baited his metal finger to the feline who was trying her best to bite on it, “It won’t be that easy, at least I think it won’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I messed up,” He confessed quietly as he pursed his lips as he recalled how that night went.

“Bubba, did you happen to get the chocolate I asked to buy?” She asked after ruffling through all their cabinets twice, pouting as she failed to see the sweet she has been craving for. He was cleaning the litter box that was in their bathroom so his voice was faint but she heard it loud and clear, “I forgot to, bub; sorry ‘bout that!”

With a sigh, she closed the cabinet door and instead grabbed a glass of water before walking to the dining table, “It’s okay! I’ll just get some tomorrow or some other time.”

As he was washing his hands, he caught a faint glance of her disappointed frown on the mirror. For a few moments, he racked his brain for the other times wherein he saw her frown due to something he’s done. There were far too many instances that came into mind; Bucky didn’t like that at all.

Despite just drying off his hands with a hand towel, he could feel his flesh hand dampen with sweat as he approached her on the dining table and sit at the chair opposite from where she was — something that she noticed, tearing her eyes away from her laptop, making her feel that something was wrong, “You okay, Buck?”

“I think we need to break up,” Came his immediate answer as he stared at her eyes that showed sadness and grief. “What?” Was all that she could choke out as she pushed her laptop to the side so she could direct his attention to him fully.

“I think we need to break up,” He repeated, his voice sounded stronger and more determined than when he said it earlier; but it was just a front for his insecurities and doubts, “It’s something that we both saw coming, but we’re in denial of its approach.”

Tears were now freely falling out of her eyes as she struggled to get out a coherent response, “But Bucky, we can work it out. What is it? Where did I go wrong?” She was to add some more questions but she was stopped by her hiccups.

Both hands grasped hers and rubbed her knuckles soothingly to calm her down, “I’m sorry Y/N, but this is just for the best for the both of us. It’s better we part our ways now rather than later when my ivy has fully engulfed your brick walls that you have put up.”

Snatching her hands from his hold, she crossed her arms, “Don’t feed me that bullshit, Buck. tell me the real reason why you want us to split.” Gone was her earlier tone of sorrow and was now replaced with shaky strength.

When he just looked at her blankly silently, Y/N just bit her lip as she grabbed for her laptop as she scrolled for a certain email; and when she found it, she showed the screen to her now ex boyfriend, “Guess it was a wrong time to sign for a year-long lease huh?”

“We can still live together for the time being,” His immediate answer surprised the two of them and he decided to cover it up by explaining, “We don’t want to pay an additional fee for infringing the contract. Plus that saves us a whole lot of money for when we move out of here.”

Her mind was foggy with sadness which prevented her from thinking logically so she found herself nodding, “Okay, that makes sense.” She took her laptop from his look and began to search for a new bed frame and mattress. “I’ll move to the spare bedroom and get my things later on.”

Following her drying of tears, she now had a determined pout on her face as she began to scout new items for her bedroom, Bucky came to realize the weight of what he had just done. At the expense of her broken and devastated state, he spared his insecurities and doubts. But he didn’t feel even an ounce of relief, instead he just felt miserable seeing her become so detached from him; it’s your fault, you idiot, he scolded himself.

“Oh, okay. I’m just gonna lay down for a while,” She merely nodded when he stood from the his seat and grabbed Alpine that was on his playing with his toes; as he laid his back on the soft mattress were they both spent time and created some of their best memories, he couldn’t help cuddle the feline closer to him as he now looked back on those memories wistfully, “Looks like you’re gonna be my cuddle buddy from now on, Al.”

“Idiot!” Steve yelled after hearing the story and throwing the pillow back to Bucky with the cushion that was thrown to him earlier, “Let’s unpack what you did wrong here; one, you broke up with her because of your insecurities instead of working on it yourself or with her.”

Bucky had a deep scowl on his face and was about to rebut until Steve held a hand up to let him know he was not yet done listing things, “Two, you didn’t even really give her the option on whether she wanted to break up or what. And lastly, you decided to still live together despite splitting under the guise of not paying more due to infringing the lease and moving out, but you guys have two months left before you have to renew or end your contract! What the hell’s your plan after?”

When Steve said it like that, it did look even worse than it initially was. The former assassin could only groan out loud as he removed his hands from stroking Al’s whie fur and instead covered his face in shame, “I know! I was dumb, and still am! I just want Y/N back, okay?”

Steve silently chuckled as he took in his friend’s whine and Y/N’s stunned look as she had just arrived from going out. Noticing the lack of white fur ball on his lap, he removed his hands from shielding his face as he looked at Steve, and was puzzled when the blonde was smirking but did not have the cat.

“Where?” The question died on his throat as he heard her soft mewl and looked to his right to see Y/N cuddling Alpine in her arms, “Hi, I just got home.” The blank expression she had made it difficult for the two super soldiers to read her; Steve however knew that the two needed privacy in order to talk.

“Well I’m heading out,” The former Captain America stood up and patted his best friend’s shoulder as a way of saying goodbye and good luck, “See you both soon.” He kissed Y/N’s forehead goodbye and left the former lovers.”

“Do you want to talk about what I just heard you say or do you want me to forget about it, Buck?”

Being with her for nearly three years he knew that once her interest was piqued, it would be difficult for her to lose her interest in it as she would do anything to feed her curiosity. “What would you rather do?”

This was new, for the previous times they had confrontation he had decided for her; and to be able to choose for herself — and possibly for the both of them. “I’d like to talk about it; if it’s fine with you of course.”  

He gestured for her to take the seat beside her — which she gladly took after placing her bag on the dining table and carrying Alpine with her. “I heard you saying you wanted me back — is there any truth to that?”

“Yes, there is,” He sounded a mixture of confident and desperate; but he didn’t care as he just wanted her back, “I want you back and it was a mistake on my part to let you go.”

“But why did you let me go?”

“Because I was an insecure, self-doubting coward. Do you remember the day when I broke up with you?” She nodded her head as she scoffed, “Obviously, I do.” Her sass had him chuckling, lightening up the mood a little. “Well that day, I saw the look of disappointment on your face when I failed to get you chocolate. I thought that if I can mess this small thing up, what more when it comes to more important things — like an anniversary, a mortgage payment, important events, and things like that.”

Her hands reached out for his and gently kissed the knuckles to calm him down as he was now breathing heavily as he continued to open up to her, “I always knew deep down in me that you deserved to be with someone as great as you; and believe me everyday I tried to be that person. But slowly I saw not only how I wasn’t living up to be the person you deserve, but somehow I just wasn’t making you happy any more.”

Despite letting out what he had been bottling up, Bucky felt both heavier and lighter; lighter because now he had told her the real reason as to why they fell out and what has been haunting his mind for months now. But the fact that she now had a say on what goes on between them made him even more anxious compared to how he would be when going on dangerous missions.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through this battle alone, bubba,” Her statement coupled with her use of their pet name for each other had his heart twisting in a good way, “I wished you had reached out to me so that we both could work through this.”

“You’re not mad? Or disappointed? Or disgusted with me?”

She shook her head as she once again placed a loving kiss on his knuckles, “Why would I do so? You were dealing with anxieties and doubts, I can’t exactly blame you for those can I?” He shrugged his shoulders as he avoided looking her in the eyes, “But still,” Came his weak reply.

Clicking her tongue, she wrapped her arms around him, bringing his head to her chest so she could cuddle and comfort him as they were somewhat laying down on the couch, “Next time you got something going in your head, you talk to me, okay?”

He nodded against her chest and he couldn’t hold back the soft whine of happiness when she kissed his forehead, “I meant what I said, that I want you back.”

“Are you sure that’s what you really want?” She stiffened against his hold; Bucky stood up from where laid comfortably and took her with him, looking her straight in the eye with passion, “It is, bubba. I swear.”

“I don’t know, Buck,” She replied weakly and avoided looking him in the eye, “Maybe this is just your way of easing your guilt and making amends with your past talking. You don’t have to lie, not to me.”

“It’s not, I promise,” He placed his hands on her waist, grabbing her to situate her on his lap, “I love you and I never stopped, nor will I ever. You are someone I can never get sick of — I will always want to be with you, no matter if we do something fun and exciting or something mundane and domestic. I want all of you and want to share my life with you.”

“But what happens when you get those thoughts again? Will you leave me hanging again?”

Hating how small and meek her voice was, he shook his head as he kissed the tip of her nose, “I won’t. Like you said, I’ll work on it alone and with you. I love you, bubba.” She could see no sign of lies or deceit in his eyes and loved what she was hearing — he was a man of his word and knew that he wouldn’t boldly claim such a thing if he had no plans of following through with it.

“I can give you time to think about it if you’d like,” The proposition left his tongue as she suddenly kissed his lips, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him even more closer. He smiled into the kiss as he rubbed her back soothingly, missing the heat that radiated off her skin.

“No time needed to think about it, bub,” She breathed out after pulling away from the kiss, her lips still against his, “I want you back too.”

“I hope you’d still want me back even after my final confession.”

She pulled away from him completely so she could take in his nervous smirk, “What final confession?”

Scratching the back of his neck nervously, he disclosed, “I took the cardigan from the dryer.” She laughed at his silly confession before asking, “Why’d you do it, bubba? It smelt like you and I dressed it up on one of my pillows because I missed you.”

Slapping her hand to his pec, she pretended to be upset before laying her head on his chest, “Well I hope it made your lonely nights better! I had an important reason to wear that today.”

“Oh? And what could that be, missy?” He tickled her sides to get her to speak; after a fit full of laughters she did, “Well I was going out with Rachel and she decided to bring along her friend in hopes of setting me up with them.” By wearing the cardigan, Y/N knew that the person Rachel invited over would be less persistent to pursue since the words “James Buchanan Barnes’ property” were sewn on a patch on the clothing article — a gift Bucky gave her when they passed the one year mark of their relationship.

“So you were cheating on me!” He jokingly accused her to which she pinched his ears as she reminded him, “Excuse you! I was being set up with someone before we got back together — it’s not cheating you know!”

He too laughed at their whole debacle before he stroked her cheek with the flesh hand saying, “I missed you so much, bubba.”  She was about to share the same sentiments before they got interrupted by a needy cat who placed herself in between Bucky and Y/N.

“I think Al missed being in the middle of our cuddle sessions too, bubba,” She noted as the cat purred when she and Bucky were scratching the space in between her ears.

With a large grin on his face, he tickled Alpine as he kissed Y/N fervently on the lips, “Look Al, we’re one, happy, and complete family again.”

[fumingspice]

andante

Pairing: Cordelia Goode x Reader

Prompt: oK so how about like?? Delia x reader and they're both in love af but they think the other has no feelings for them so they're both tripping over themselves to make the other love them and then madison comes in and she's just like 'stop being dumb' and they finally realise how much the other loves them.

I’m sorry but my ed crept back in and im not horny enough to put more thought into writing so just ignore the massive time skip at “---”. enjoy, you strange people xo

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*(*❦ω❦)*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It's crazy. Falling. You see? We don't say "rising into love". There is in it, the idea of the fall. And it goes back to extremely fundamental things. That there is always a curious tie at some point between the fall and the creation. Taking this ghastly risk is the condition of there being life. You see, for all life is an act of faith and an act of gamble...

Between Cordelia Goode's ears were pretty brown eyes and a mind full of thoughts. Brown eyes were never really your favourite until you saw them on her. You knew yourself that somehow, over the years you got to know Cordelia; working with her, befriending her, carrying her home from the bar one night when she got far too drunk, letting her cry into your shoulder when her job became too real and she could feel her mother's words hanging over her head.

When you started falling for the woman with those beautiful brown eyes.

Somehow, her eyes were now your favourite colour.

Not brown- brown wasn't simply the word for the colour. Cordelia's eyes were the colour of aged whiskey. Sometimes they were the only two safe shots of tequila that you could see. Sometimes they were a beautiful milk chocolate dotted with exposed honeycomb. Once when she had asked you to help her decorate the garden for the Summer Equinox- she had given Zoe enough money to take the girls on a field trip for the day so she could give the girls a little party. You stood watching her in her denim shorts and her white button up. When she had stepped back and put her arm around you to admire both of your handy work you could have sworn her eyes were glowing like fresh magma.

Her hand lay on your waist a split second too long.

You had fallen in love with the Supreme.

"Yo, bitch!" Madison Montgomery's usual entrance phrase disturbed you from your imagination. You raised your brow and smirked.

"Yes, Madison?"

The blonde took her sunglasses off her face and closed them with a slight snap. "The girls want to know if you wanna come to play Pysch! with us," she said. Her lips were curled in what could almost be described as a friendly smile. You were one of the few honoured to know that under Madison's bitchy white girl facade there was actually a very sweet someone lurking under there.

You thought for a moment and put your pen down. "I won't be long- I just have to log these last few names and I'll be there," you tell her. Madison rolled her eyes and waved her hand, the pen lifted itself and wrote the last thirteen names within seconds. "You're done. Let's go, Y/N."

Madison didn't even give you a minute to say anything before she walked out of the room. "Come on, bitch. Don't make me use my powers!" she called from the hallway, finally motivating you to move.

The girls sat in a circle in Zoe's bedroom. Lights off. Candles lit.

Zoe, Queenie, Mallory, and Coco were indulged in their phones for the game. Madison turned to you and held up her phone to show you the question. "What is Zoe's deepest, darkest secret?" she read. "You gotta answer it and the person with the most votes wins. It lasts for ten rounds and it can be fucking hilarious."

Zoe's face was red with laughter at the answers. "She's not actually a witch- that's not even funny," she gasped through cackles. She then sobered slightly. "She likes to watch Danny Devito movies while masturbating and screaming 'I am a dirty man'."

Madison was the only one who chortled at that.

You joined the game and got your best answers ready in your head. "If Madison got arrested tomorrow what would it be for?"

Madison rolled her eyes and muttered something about knowing exactly what everyone was about to answer. You smirked slightly, sensing her slight apprehension.

Prostitution.

Murder. Third-degree.

Fucking up the brakes on a bus full of frat boys.

Public Nudity.

"Gosh, you're so original," she muttered, glaring right at Zoe, who just shrugged.

"It's the rules of the game, bitch. Go all in, don't get offended," she replied.

The game pinged for the next question.

"What is on Y/N's mind right now?"

Coco gave a loud "Ha!" and typed quickly, along with the other girls who were all typing as quickly as possible to get their answers in first.

A quiet knock came from the other side of the door and Cordelia poked her head around. "Sorry to interrupt, girls. Y/N, could I borrow you for a moment?" she asked, voice sweet and angelic. You bounced up as soon as she finished the sentence and obliged straight away. You were met with a sweet smile.

Madison flicked her brows. "Speak of the devil," she muttered, winking at Delia's slightly confused face. As you left, your phone pinged to announce the results just before you left the game.

Cordelia 🥵🥵🥵

Delia. I ship it <3

Getting knuckle deep finger fucked by the HWIC

French fries

You quickly shut off your phone screen before Cordelia could see.

"What's the matter, Delia?" You asked, practically skipping alongside her. There was a vibrant air of satisfaction between you.

Cordelia shook her head, her blonde hair bobbing with her movements. “I just wanted to know if you’d like to go out.”

You felt your heart stop. “Go out?”

Cordelia looked hurt by the confusion on your face.

“Yes. Would you like to join me in the garden?”

“Oh,” you realised, slightly disappointed. “I would love to.”

---

"For the love of Hades. Right, I don’t mean to sound rude or anything because I have some understanding that lesbians are fucking useless because of the fear of appearing to be predatory because the media is an asshole,” Madison continued. “But I don’t really think any of us can eat at this table anymore without choking on the fucking sexual tension between the both of you.”

Cordelia looked shocked. “It’s not that-”

“I’m a fucking mindreader! You do get that I can fucking hear the things that you say in your head about what you want to do to Y/N? I’m one gutter minded bitch and not even I’m creative enough to come up with that shit while I’m eating my fucking apple turnover!”

You blushed hard and chuckled.

Madison’s neck snapped towards you. “Oh, and don’t getting me fucking started on you! Do you know how fucking unsanitary it would be to carry out your little fantasies of fucking Cordy on the kitchen counter? Not even for us but the amount of fucking crumbs that would work into your nooks and crannies would be like trying to spring clean Myrtle's fucking hair! "

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Cordelia chuckled nervously. Her face turning a shade of red. “I’m sure Y/N’s got plenty of better options.”

Madison dropped her face in her hands and rubbed her temples. “God, you bitches are going to put fucking years on my skin.”

“Oh, give me a break, Madison.”

Cordelia stumbled foward slightly, having been tripped up by some unseeable force and sending her tumbling into you. Her hands lay against your chest for that split second too long once more.

Your lips parted for a moment and your breath hitched as you both watched Madison smirk and leave the room. It felt like your heart was beating at a thousand miles an hour. You surroundings were unnoticable to you now; replaced by unidentifiable whirls of colour and light. Your hand rested flat on Cordelia’s cheek. It was different this time. Not the spark, that had been there every time you touched. It was the fact that you were both too slow to ignore the ignition that started in your chests. 

You saw her eyebrows falter from their previously confident expression, like all of her preparation and barriers and walls had fallen down and she was too slow to replace them. Cordelia pursed her lips, presumably trying to figure out what she should say to you. Again, she was too slow as you inhaled sharply and thrust yourself forward to catch her lips.

Delia was quick to mould herself to the curves of your front, hands falling to the small of your back on a collision course as she backed you into the dining room table. You smoothed your hands over the contours of her jaw, her collar bones, breasts, hips like you were a master pianist playing a brilliant concerto. Her body was the only instrument you longed to play; her moans the only melody that you longed to draw from her.

As her lips glided across your own, everything came together like pieces into place. You thought back one of those late nights in the kitchen. The way Delia’s fingers had so enthusiastically laced through yours during the late night in the kitchen when you had both stayed up until the wee hours of the morning talking about life. How the witch had turned the radio on and taken your hand while you danced to some song by REO Speedwagon. Twirling you through the night. “Can’t fight this feeling” was the song. Ironic, now that you thought about it. It seemed as though fighting her feelings was what she had been doing the entire time.

She twirled you around in the light of the dim television and the refrigerator when the songs were upbeat, even going as far as dipping you and pulling you up again. Bare thighs against your own in her shorts and oversized shirt. When the songs that were played were slower, she was more gentle. Until eventually you swayed in a slow two-step, your head against her chest, and hers against yours. The air was thick with something pure. Something untouched. 

You had no idea why you ever just thought this was something two best friends did. More so, you had no idea why you didn’t lean back and dip into her lips and allow your souls to dance the waltz that they were so clearly destined for. 

Cordelia’s thumb and finger lay on either side of your jaw as she continued to kiss you as if her soul depended on it. Her fingers interlocked with yours against the table.

She broke away, tears had fallen down her cheeks and made your heart melt. “Oh-ho,” you chuckled, mouth agape at her sight. “Why the tears, my love?”

Cordelia laughed, wiping away her tears. “I’ve longed to do that for so long,” she replied. “So, so long.”

You chuckled at her sweetness and the display of pure love that you were so unaccustomed to.

“I fell in love with you, Y/N. I don’t think I will ever stop falling in love with you. You’ve created this storm of beautiful chaos in me,” she continued. “Do you remember that night where I was really sleepy, so you let me just stay in your room? How I had fallen asleep on top of you by accident and you wrapped your arms around me and hummed a lullaby?”

You nodded, remember the feeling of waking up with the Supreme in your arms.

“I was wide awake,” she told you. A delicate smile arose.

You chuckled into her touch.

“Oh, sweetheart,” you replied, drawing her closer, her blonde hair twirled in your fingers. “I know you were.”

[moonchildsaurora]

Darling, Dance for Me?

✤ sniper!San x female exotic dancer!reader ✤ genre: Mafia AU // 30% fluff, 60% spice, 10% platonic flirting with Woo  ✤ t/w: mentions of guns/shooting, mentions of alcohol, mature clubbing themes, highly suggestive in the second half (but not smut), rated M  ✤ count: 2k+

a/n - this was suppose to be for Valentine’s Day but, oh well! Enjoy some spice with one pink haired Sannie, coz we all know even though he looks soft. . . .he’s just a devil in disguise. This is probs my most suggestive writing till date as well, it was fun and am looking forward to writing more spice in the future hehet 💙

✛ play these vibes: BOBBY - ‘DeViL’, Sunmi - ‘Black Pearl’, Kai - ‘Mmmh’ ✛

“Mother told me, never to dance with the devil, So I danced for him instead.”

Cherry rouge.

Not your usual go-to, but a special occasion calls for some special exceptions. And damn did you look like fine wine tonight. Giving your styled curls another spritz of hair spray, you took one last inspection in your vanity mirror.  

Work was throwing a Valentine’s event and thus you found yourself having to dig through the back of your wardrobe to find a suitable outfit for tonight. Bold burgundy lace hugged tightly around your body replacing the mellower neutral tones you’d wear on any other night. Your roommate had even shoved a pair of thigh highs and heels on you to match the garter.

And cherry lips to bring the whole look together.

“You’ll thank me later! Hell everyone in the club would, for presenting god’s gift to them!”

You had laughed at her supportive enthusiasm, waving her away with embarrassment though you greatly appreciated the pre-shift hype.

When you headed for the kitchen, you could hear the TV in the lounge and glanced to see your roommate watching the evening news. She turned to call out for you but stopped mid-way upon realising you were already out of your room.

“Damn girl…you’ll sure be breaking hearts tonight with that fit!!” she yelled-gasped, brows waggling for a cheeky added effect.

“Well that’s no good. Dancers are supposed to be Cupids of the night, maybe they should’ve given me Aphrodite instead.”

A smile tugged on your lips as you saw your roommate falling back on the sofa snickering. Grabbing the bottle of Ten to One from what you both named ‘The Life Juice’ shelf, you started to fill your rose gold hip flask with the white rum. The debonair bartender at the club would usually be more than happy to concoct you a cup of much-needed poison to get you through the night. However, on such a busy event, you might not even have time to swing by the bar – so plan B was in order.

Also, whoever thought to invent garter pouches was a genius in your eyes. The amount of times you had snuck in a sip or two up on the podium without missing a beat or being noticed had to be one of your greatest feat till date.

Except maybe for the one who bought said pouch and flask for you. Seeing the shadow of their pleased smirk whenever you donned on something from them never failed to coax the goosebumps across your skin. Perhaps that garnet embellished choker would be the icing on the cake then. You made a mental note to put that on before you headed out.

“Hey honey…”

The tone of your roommate turned a little more serious.

“On the news just then, another one of those random sniper attacks happened along Soleil Street. Shit, that’s only two streets away from the club.”

The city has gotten used to such news every now and then. All leads of the serial sniper always went cold, not that they left behind any substantial traces for the authorities to begin with.

The law wasn’t the only ruling force in the area. Everyone knew that.

So long as one didn’t attract the wrong attention, they’d be free to go about their business.

“I’m dropping you off, are you ready to go?”

“Wait! It’s alright, I don’t want to trouble you.”

Your roommate gave you a look before swiping her car keys from the counter. “What would trouble me is not knowing whether you’ve made it to work and back safely. Now c’mon, the night is awaiting that cute booty of yours!”

“Yes mum.”

How lucky were you to have an angel for a roommate?

“Give me a heads up if you intend to bring anyone home tonight yeah? I’ll be sure to vacate the apartment before any sinning begins here.”

Or not.

A euphoric buzz filled every corner of the club tonight. Whether it was due to the special occasion or not, everyone was getting drunk off the atmosphere. The bar was a never-ending fountain of liquid luck and smoke veiled corners of the venue where patrons dealt cards and wits. A sea of bodies dominated the dancefloor, curling around one another in ecstasy as the thumping bass set the rhythm for them.

The centre podium was where the real magic unfurled.

Up on there, you felt powerful. Up on there, was your domain to rule.

Long have you enticed all those who returned back to ‘The Blue Butterfly���. So close, yet so far, for most could only have the visual satisfaction. Of watching you, along with your fellow dancers weave around golden poles and offer hands to those who sat in plush velvet chairs closest to the podium. Only to sashay away the last minute.

How bees are drawn to nectar and moths to light, the people keep coming back.

Tonight the club was decked out in a more sensual feel to fit the Valentine’s vibe. Long drapes of rose silk hung around the podium and you used those to accentuate the flow and movement of your body curves. The silks caressed the bare skin not hidden underneath your outfit and you pretended to take shy peeks around the fabrics at the audience. Sending a lucky wink or flying kiss their way.

In the middle of a mid-air twirl, you saw a familiar figure heading towards your side of the podium. You slowly lowered yourself back down to the floor, using your legs to wrap around the silks as leverage. Not missing the opportunity to be playful – you mimed shooting an arrow towards the club’s top croupier.

Wooyoung instantly clutched his heart with his hand that wasn’t occupied with holding one of Mingi’s own cocktail infusion. Letting out a hearty giggle, you slid over the podium floors to the edge where Wooyoung had propped himself up on.

“Don’t you look simply irresistible?” he crooned at you.

You could’ve said the exact same for him. All fitted to a tee in Givenchy with a classic choker that demanded attention for prominent collarbones.

“Now, how may I be of service to you tonight handsome?” you spoke over the music.

The youthful charmer leaned in towards you, shaking dark wavy strands out of his eyes. Eyeing his cotton candy pink drink, you ducked your head and took a few sips from the straw before Wooyoung drew it away. It tasted vaguely like pink lemonade with hints of vodka and vanilla.

“Ah ah, this isn’t for you poppet. Besides…” he tipped your chin back up with two fingers, “…wouldn’t want to waste your appetite before your main course tonight, would we?”

That made you perk right up.

“V.I.P Room Aurora has kindly requested for you. Drinks have already been sent up and the room’s been booked for the whole night.”

Not that booking was really needed since it was your room. It was just for formality.  

Wooyoung helped you off the podium and smoothly guided you through the crowd, placing you in front of him so as to avoid being grabbed by uninvited hands from behind. You both stopped at the foot of the polished glass stairs that led up to the V.I.P guest rooms.

“Off you go now! Oh and try not to make too much of a mess for our cleaners, they really ought to get a pay rise from some of the things they’ve witnessed in those rooms.”

You would’ve kicked Wooyoung for his brazen tongue, but you did well to remind yourself that would be rather impudent on your part. Whilst you have a jovial bond with him, it still doesn’t erase his high-standing status within the inner circle. You knew better than to cross that line of respect.

“Won’t make any promises I can’t keep, Jung!”

You left him with a soft pat on his cheek and ascended towards your utopia that awaited.

Swinging the golden embossed doors open, sultry melodious tune of a saxophone greeted you. Like molten dark chocolate, it was rich and tantalizing. The crystalline blue hue of the room’s lighting was fitting for the slow jazzy blues.

A spacious circular sofa curved around a glass table in the centre, providing a perfect view of the bejewelled podium. The wide one-way windows were especially designed for privacy. You could spectate over almost the whole club below, something you quite enjoyed during your breaks. The countless types of people that you observed stepping into your world; from the timid newcomers to the seasoned hedonists and the stories they brought with them of their journey to ‘The Blue Butterfly’.

But there was no time for that tonight. Not when you see broad sculptured shoulders that your hands have meticulously memorised the planes of – right in front of you.  

Still clad in his all-black incognito leather fit, you couldn’t help but stay by the door to appreciate his form. A huge bouquet of ivory and deep red roses sat on the glass table with an open box of what you suspected were chocolates inside. A loud pop of the champagne bottle went off. You bit your lips when you saw his toned arms flex as he gripped the bottle in one hand and tipped a stream of golden bubbles into two flute glasses in the other.

As the music picked up, you decided it was time to make your presence known. Walking with confident steps over the velveteen carpet you went to wrap your arms around his cinched waist. Resting your cheek on the cool leather vest of his back, you took his scent in.

Smoke and city musk lingered around.

You figured he must’ve come straight from his assignment. What better reason to use than to spoil him extra as post-work relaxation? His hand came up to wrap around yours and you felt the dancing of lips leaving petal kisses across your knuckles.

“You stink…” you mumbled lightly against his back.

San let out a low chuckle before setting the champagne bottle down and turning around to snake both arms around you. Calloused hands from the years of gripping guns instead of supple flesh imprinted their warm touch into your skin.

“Oh? Then I’m sure you won’t mind helping me freshen up, right Princess?”

“San!” you squealed when you felt him deliberately rub sweat against your neck before attacking it with more love bites.

“You taste like sweet temptation.”

You arched your neck out of habit when you felt his tongue swipe across it. Teeth bit down lightly around the garnet choker San bought for you for Christmas.

When you felt hands travelling down west towards your garter, you gave San a light shove backwards to the sofa.

“Not so fast, Choi.”

His predatory feline eyes took its time to rake down your body, committing every inch to memory. You made a show of bending over to grab the two champagne flutes off the table, the sharp intake of breath behind you made you preen with pride. You took your seat on your throne, not at all surprised to feel how much pent-up tension San had through the tight leather.

Clink. A toast made for the love of two.

“Happy Valentine’s, darling.”

“Thank you, San. You sure know how to spoil a lady don’t you?”

“Only the one who’s sniped right through my heart.”

Oh the irony.

You smiled when he pulled you close and claimed a proper kiss, whispering a, “You sap,” against his wind-chapped lips. Tasting the fruit acidity from the golden bubbles as you both exchanged kitten licks.

San’s rouge-stained lips chased after yours when you broke off from the kiss to place your champagne flute back down on the table. Hands anchoring your hips in place as you reached to pluck a couverture chocolate-covered strawberry from the box. Turning back round to San, your lips formed a small pout noticing that his freshly dyed hair was still hidden underneath his cap.

He let you discard it behind the sofa and you could’ve sworn he purred with satisfaction when you ran your hands through his cotton candy pink strands. Hands gave your bottom a firm squeeze and San begun to run his fingers along the hem of your lace. The husky vocals from the record player drifted back, interlacing with the saxophone.

That was your cue.

“Eyes on me.”

You held San’s gaze, fire reflecting fire. The strawberry gets slipped past the seams of his lips and all the while San chews intently, his eyes never wavered. He’s got his precious pearl all to himself, just the way he loves it. And you have the city’s most lethal hitman watching your back from dawn to dusk. San was the dangerous game you played, only to win the safest love.    

“Darling, won’t you please dance for me?”

“With pleasure, Sir.”

[eirikaanemo]

The Candy House

Venti x GN!Reader

3k Words

Warnings: eviction, manipulation, servitude, minor character 'death', temporary blindness, kiss at the end

Notes: This is NOT incest. You and Venti are strangers and are not related at all.

Getting lost in the enchanted forest was easy. The fog covering the ground, the trees blocking out the light, and the original path taking so many twists and turns made sure of that. From the chill sinking into your bones you can tell that it’s getting late. Fear settles into your heart. Who knows what lurks in these woods? All you know is that of all those who have entered these woods, no one has ever come back out.

The rumors all tell of monsters and creatures roaming in the night, devouring any unfortunate creature they may find. You can only hope that they are wrong. Perhaps if you find some sort of shelter you can be hidden and make it through the night. Unfortunately you have not been able to find any sort of shelter, anything would do at this point. And yet it’s nowhere to be found and all that’s left to do is keep searching.

Then you see a light in the distance, illuminating the silhouette of a house. Speeding up, you change course to move towards it. The closer you get, the more details you are able to make out through the fog and the dark. And the closer you are, the odder it looks. It doesn’t seem to be made of brick or wood, or any other sort of building material you have seen.

As you get even closer you find that it’s kind of made of bricks, if giant chocolate covered raisins count as bricks and dried icing counts as mortar. The windows tint the light different colors as the light passes through the semi-transparent hard candy. The front door is made of chocolate and has a gumdrop handle. The roof is made of wafer shingles held together by layers of caramel. It looks delicious.

When you approach the door it opens to reveal an old woman. Her eyes are white and unseeing but hold an unsettling glint, though her smile assures you that you are welcome. “Oh you poor dear,” she says mournfully. “Out lost in the woods at night! You must be cold. Come in, come in and stay the night. Dinner is ready and I would love to have some company. Please do come and join me!”

The thought of food makes your stomach rumble. You haven’t eaten anything all day. This is like a dream come true, too wonderful to be real, and yet it is. “I would be happy to,” you tell her and follow her inside. Just like the outside of the house, everything is made of candy. Everything but dinner, that is, thankfully. The food is absolutely delicious and you enjoy every bite.

After you help clean up the dishes she leads you to the next room over. It’s small with meager furnishings which include a comfortable looking cot. “I’m sorry, I know it’s not much,” she apologizes. “Being out here in the woods means I so rarely get visitors.”

“It’s fine,” you reassure her. “This is much better than trying to find shelter out in the woods.” She nods her head emphatically. “Oh heavens yes,” she agrees. “You wouldn’t even survive a night out there! The locals aren’t fond of strangers wandering around their forest.” The thought causes a shiver to run down your spine as she wishes you goodnight and leaves you to your thoughts.

Sleep comes easily that night but the morning is much too early. You’re shaken awake by the old lady, more harshly than you would expect from what she was like the night before. When you open your eyes, sit up, and turn to look at her she even looks different from yesterday. Gone are the sweet, soft features of an old lady and instead are the haggard, worn, and wicked features of a dark witch.

“By partaking of my food and generosity, you have sold yourself into my service.” The witch informed you. “Now get out of bed, you have chores to do and have slept in far too late.” Your eyes go wide as you remember the basic rules you’ve always been taught for dealing with the magical. Do not eat. Do not sleep. Do not accept favors. Three of many, and you had broken them. She is right, and you have no one to blame but yourself.

For breakfast you are fed bread crusts and water. Then you start on your chores. Most of them are normal things: sweep the house, do the dishes, and dust dusty surfaces for example. Oddly enough, she prepares meals despite it being one of the more risky tds for her. Then again she does have a lot of experience so there might not be as much risk as you might originally think. And apparently she doesn’t usually eat either.

There are also a couple odd chores. The most odd one being: feed and fatten up ‘[her] next meal’. When you ask her how to complete that task she mutters about how she knew she was forgetting something and releases a spell hiding a large hanging birdcage in the corner of the room. A birdcage with someone in it. There is a pile of bones beneath the cage. Human bones. You’re sick to your stomach.

At some point the witch must have left, leaving just you and them in the room. As if sensing that she’d left, the figure cracks an eye open, sits up, and stretches, then sends you a bitter smile. “I guess we’re both stuck here,” they say. A he, you judge by the sound of his voice. “Yeah,” you mutter, equally bitterly. “Tricked me with dinner and a place to stay when I really should have known better. And I didn’t even realize how badly I messed up until this morning.”

He sighs. “I tried to warn you, but she put up a spell to hide me before she went to bring you in.” He sounds so defeated. You shrug. “Thank you for trying. Don’t blame yourself though. This really is my own fault. How did she catch you?”

“Much the same as you,” he admitted. “I was searching for a treasure I had lost and found out she had it, which was true. So I came to try and get it from her but she tricked me into eating and trapped me here. Now she’s just waiting until I’m fat enough to eat it appears. I guess we’re stuck here together for now. And after she eats me, you’re probably next if allowed.”

The two of you are silent for a minute as you ponder your imminent demise and his rhymes. “Well I feel kind of bad now that I know, but I’m supposed to give you this. It’s one of my chores so I have to do it.” You hand him his breakfast through the bars of his cage. It’s a much better breakfast than your own but he wrinkles his nose at it before giving in and eating it.

As he eats you continue with your chores. Most of them are in the same area he is so you’re easily able to take care of his breakfast dishes. The two of you end up chatting while you work. He introduces himself as Venti the bard and tells you stories about his travels all over Teyvat, often times in rhymes. When he isn’t telling stories he’s singing you songs while you work to distract you from the numerous aches and pains that you’ve developed from all the work you have been doing. In return, you tell him about how you ended up in the enchanted forest in the first place.

You explain how the village has become convinced that you were a witch, even your own family. They had cast you out and now you have nowhere else to go. It was hard to talk about but oddly enough you felt better after telling Venti about it. He didn’t judge you or pity you for it, there was just a serene sort of sympathy that helped you feel heard and validated. And since you don’t really talk to strangers about that sort of thing, the two of you decide that you are friends.

A couple days pass and you notice that the witch has been testing how fat he is by feeling his finger. And the fatter he is, the more he has eaten, the closer he is to being eaten himself. Every meal has to be finished, she knows otherwise and the consequences aren’t pretty. So far he certainly isn’t fat, but both of you know it’s only a matter of time.

Then you come up with a brilliant idea. “What if,” you whisper to him after she leaves the room after checking, “you have her check that bone instead of your finger when she next checks? Her eyesight is bad enough that she probably can’t see the difference and it will buy us time while we try to come up with an idea to escape.”

“That might just work!” He declares. “And that would be just the thing to wipe off her smirk. It should buy us the time as long as she doesn’t give it too much mind. Here’s hoping it works, because the alternative will be much worse.” You slowly nod your head, “At least it’s a start.” He smiles at replies, “And it’s truly is quite smart.”

You blush at the compliment and feel your heart flutter in your chest. As time has gone by you have found yourself falling for him. It’s not any one specific thing, but a combination of many things that make him who he is: his jokes, kindness, thoughtfulness, and trying to make the best of your situation, to name a few. And it doesn’t hurt that he’s so cute.

Thankfully, the trick does work to your delight and her frustration. She started making his meals larger, but he just shared with you instead of eating it all himself. After all, the food needs to be eaten. And you may have admitted to be surviving off of bread crusts at some point. “I can’t have you dying of hunger, we need to escape together after all. And besides, friends take care of each other.” He insisted.

You swear that you fall just a little further in love with him every day. Sometimes you catch yourself staring and have to look away quickly, hoping he didn’t notice. Part of you suspects he does notice judging by the blush that dusts his cheeks you spot before you manage to look away. But if he does notice he doesn’t say anything.

Things continue like this for over a month with the witch becoming more and more impatient as time goes on. The two of you have yet to have found a good plan of escape and can tell things are getting more and more risky as time goes on. And one day, the witch finally snaps, the weight of her hunger breaking through what patience and reason she had left.

“I’m tired to waiting!” She exclaims, stomping on the floor. “I’m so hungry that I’ll just eat him, skinny as he is. And you know what? I’ll eat you too! Heat up the oven already, it’s time for me to feast.” Her gaze is fastened on you as you shakily start putting firewood in the oven in jerky motions. Both of you have gone pale and Venti has gone eerily still in his cage.

All too soon a fire is roaring in the oven. “Now check the temperature,” she orders you with a wicked gleam in her eyes. Venti caught on immediately and started silently gesturing for you not to do it. With his warning you realized what was going on. “Um, how would I do that?” You inquire instead.

“I’ve never used your oven before because you always do all the cooking.” It’s technically true, but you have used similar ovens in the past and know exactly how dangerous checking the temperature could be in this situation. But if you manage to turn it around… well, that might just work.

The witch stomps over to the oven and demonstrates how to check the temperature, leaning towards the oven with her head nearly inside. Rushing up behind her, you push her in and latch the door. There’s silence, so you unlatch the door and peek inside to find a melting gummy bear instead of the witch. “She’s a melting gummy bear. She won’t be eating anyone anymore.” You reassure Venti, who takes a deep breath out in relief. Not wasting any time, you start searching around for the key to the cage and eventually find it in the drawer of her bedroom nightstand..

He cheers with a big grin on his face. “You did it! We’re saved!” Fumbling with the keys and with a couple failed attempts you were able to open the door to his cage and he lept out. “Now I just need to find my treasure! Could you help me find it?” He requested. “Sure,” you say, already starting to look through her kitchen drawers. “What does it look like?” He shrugs. “Oh, you’ll know it when you see it,” he mentions vaguely as he works his way through checking some of the smaller rooms in the house.

After a while of searching you reach into a vase filled with flowers made of spun sugar and pull something out. It appears to be a queen from a chess set with a glowing turquoise orb set in it. “Is this it?” You question loudly so he can hear you from where he’s searching at the other end of the house. Footsteps approach as he rushes to check and his face lights up as he sees it. “That’s it!” He crows as he takes it from your outstretched hand.

He holds it close to his chest and the room flashes with a bright turquoise light. Not expecting the light, it blinded you and you dropped to your knees with a cry. You cover your eyes with your hands belatedly and try desperately to blink the darkness from your vision. Distantly you can hear him curse as he realized his mistake.

“I’m so sorry,” he apologizes. You feel him gently peel your hands away from your eyes and replace them with his own. A cooling, numbing feeling soothes your eyes. He moves his hands to the sides of your face and runs his thumbs over your eyelids one more time before you dare to try and open them.

At first you’re surprised by your restored vision as you look down at your hands. But when you look up you’re surprised for a whole other reason. Venti still looks like Venti, except for where he doesn’t. There’s a lot more skin showing than there was before, revealing turquoise tattoos on his chest and leg as he crouches in front of you. He is dressed in an immaculate white and gold outfit with turquoise accents that almost seems to glow. But most of all, he has sprouted white wings from his back.

“Huh?” You utter, very articulately, mouth gaping. Rubbing your eyes again, you try to see if that will fix your vision. Nope, he’s still there. You can hardly believe your eyes. He lets out a laugh at your reaction and it sounds like the tinkling of bells. “Am I really so amazing that it’s left you speechless?” He teases. All you can do is nod slowly, which makes him frown.

“I’m still Venti, you know,” he tells you, trying to put you at ease. “Sure, I may be Barbatos too, but I’m still your friend. There is no need for such awe. Though I’m afraid to say that it does mean that I can’t stay. I need to return home. But before I go, I can grant you one wish as a reward for all of your help.”

You gaze at him silently for a couple minutes as he patiently waits for your response. “If you have to go, then I wish for you to take me with you,” you admit. He blinks, surprised. “I would love to, honestly, but you know that means you won’t be able to come back, right? And I’d have to change you. You wouldn’t be human anymore.” You smile and nod. “I’m certain, it’s not like I have anything left here to return to anyways.”

“So be it then,” he says with a grin before he leans it and presses a kiss to your forehead. Your whole body tingles as your features change. Your ears grow longer and narrow into points at the ends. Wings sprout from your back, tearing holes in the back of your shirt. Your height adjusts to make you within an inch or two of his height. Opening your eyes after the transformation, you spy the blush dusting his cheeks as he avoids eye contact with you.

“You missed,” you tease, leaning in closer to him. His blush grows as he looks back at you, gaze getting stuck on your lips as he gulps. You can feel your own cheeks warm at the thought of what must be going through his head. “May I kiss you?” You implore, moving your hands to rest on his knees. He nods his head shakily.

Reaching up to cup the back of his neck with both hands, you pull him down to you so your lips can reach his. The kiss is simple but lingers as you pull away. He pulls you back in before you get too far. The next kiss is more passionate than the first, with an edge of desperation.

Eventually he breaks away. “We’ll need to finish this later,” he hums, nuzzling his nose against yours. “But there will be plenty of time for this in the future. We have all the time in the world now. And I want to spend every second of it with you.”

[threecrowsinatrenchcoat]

Plant Your Hope With Good Seeds

Dukeceit Week Day 3: Snakes/Bugs

Remus and Janus break up. But literally everyone knows that's not what they want. Everyone, including their plants.

AO3 Link: [here]

Word Count: 4337

Warnings: n/a

@dukeceitweek <3

-

Unknown Number

hey so i kno i said i wouldnt text u but rupert isnt doin good. can i bring him back? he misses u

Janus stared at the text for several minutes. Rupert was, of course, the Monstera Variegata that he and Remus had raised together all the way from propagation. It had been one of the pride and joys of their plant collection. Losing Rupert in the split had hurt almost as much as losing Remus.

...Almost. 

Janus

Is it getting enough light? Remember it needed the grow light even next to the window. 

Janus texted back against his better judgement. He and Remus were broken up. They’d agreed not to text for a while. They’d agreed to give each other space, get used to being apart. 

It sucked, though. The apartment felt empty without Remus and half their plant collection.

Unknown Number

ya i kno. but i don’t have any south facign windows here. our place is better

Unknown Number

i mean ur place

Janus sighed morosely. Well, if it was for Rupert…

Janus

Fine. Rupert can come back.

Unknown Number

yay! ill be in town this weekend. ill bring him ok?

Janus

Ok.

And then Janus promptly threw his phone across the room.

Because here’s the thing. Janus and Remus were broken up. Remus had moved eight hours away and everything. He’d been accepted into the Nuclear Engineering graduate program a state away, and they had both heard too many horror stories about long-distance relationships to brother trying. So they’d had a very civil and mutual split. Janus kept the apartment. Remus took the TV. And they’d divided their plant family between them: they each kept their favorites, and Remus had taken the hardier plants, while Janus kept the ones that were likely not to survive an interstate move.

And then… Remus left.

And Janus had not immediately wanted him back. Not at all.

(And, of course, Janus was lying to himself.)

Remus texted him Saturday morning that he was on his way, and Janus spent the first few hours of the wait stress-cleaning. He then checked on every single plant in the apartment. Watered the ones that needed it. Rotated some of the more vivacious growers so that they wouldn’t lean full-body toward their light source. Moved his small army of Sansevierias out to the apartment balcony for some extra sun.   

Then, when all that still failed to fill up the entire eight hours of waiting, he started stress-cooking. So by the time Remus texted that he’d just gotten off the highway, Janus had himself a pot of minestrone soup simmering on the stove, a tray of made-from-scratch lasagna in the oven, and was mixing up a batch of double chocolate chip cookies. 

There was no way he was going to eat all this food himself, he realized. He was so used to booking big meals like this, because Remus ate like he was three people. And lasagna was his favorite.

“Oh, Jake, what am I doing?” he groaned to the N’Joy Pothos that cascaded down the side of the refrigerator. And then his doorbell rang. 

Janus opened the door to find Remus, dancing awkwardly from foot to foot, with his face half-hidden behind the green-and-white leaves of Rupert. 

“...Hey,” Remus said, sounding sheepish. Janus’ heart clenched.

“Hi,” he said. They stood there in the doorway for a full minute before Janus stepped back and motioned for Remus to follow. Remus hesitated, but obeyed. 

“Uh… I’ll just…” Remus looked around. Janus hated how uncomfortable he looked. Until about two weeks ago, this had been Remus’ apartment, too. “Can I put him in his old spot?”

“Sure,” Janus replied with a nod. Rupert’s old spot had been in the bedroom, where the big, beautiful south-facing window let in a ton of light. He’d moved Venus de Milos, his Marble Queen Pothos, and La Hoya Jackson, the finicky Hoya Carnosa that Remus had wanted but didn’t expect to make the 8-hour drive without going into shock, to free up Rupert’s spot. Remus hesitated again, before he nodded awkwardly and wandered off to the bedroom, all three feet of plant and two gallons of soil in tow. Janus went to the oven and took out the lasagna. 

“Howl looks good,” Remus said when he came back into the kitchen. Janus glanced up from where he was laying balls of cookie dough out onto baking sheets. 

“Thank you,” he replied. Howl was their dramatic fiddle leaf fig tree, which had decided to throw a fit just before Remus left. “I switched it to a terracotta pot with peat moss and pearlite, and doubled its water intake. It seems to be tolerating it well.”

“Good.” There was a long pause. Then,” How are you?”

Janus looked back to the cookies. “I’m doing well,” he lied. “And you? Do you start class soon?”

“Next week,” Remus answered. “And, uh. Yeah, I’m doin’ good.” Another long pause. “Uh… I’ll just. Head out, I guess.”

“You could stay,” Janus blurted out. Shit. “For dinner, I mean.” He gestured to the tray of lasagna, fresh from the oven. “If you want.”

Remus gave him an uncharacteristically shy smile, then nodded slowly. He didn’t say anything, though, so Janus just gestured for him to take a seat at the table. And then he joined him, a plate of lasagna for each of them.

“So tell me, how’s living with Roman again?” Janus asked, a few bites into the meal, because he could not take the awkward silence a moment longer.

“It’s ok,” Remus answered. He shoveled another forkful of lasagna into his mouth. “This is really good, Jan.”

Janus smiled softly. “Thank you.” A pause. “Roman doesn’t mind all the plants?”

“Nah, he’s dating this guy Patton who apparently loves plants, so the apartment being full of houseplants is a huge plus to him now.”

“Good for him.” The oven timer went off, startling him slightly. He started to get up, but Remus waved him off.

“I got ‘em, you did all the cooking.”

Janus didn’t protest. Remus got up and took the cookies out of the oven. And he even moved them to a cooling rack like Janus had taught him to do. He came back to the table. 

“How’s work?”

Janus sighed. “Oh, terrible as always,” he answered. “I really must start looking for a new job.”

“Finally getting fed up?” Remus teased. Janus rolled his eyes. More seriously, Remus continued, “You deserve better, Jan. You gotta find some place that treats you right and pays you what you’re worth.”

“Thank you, Remus.”

“And hey, just sayin’, I still think you’d make an excellent stripper.”

Janus snorted at that. “I haven’t fully ruled out that particular career change.”

They fell easily back into their usual banter, lingering late into the night over a dessert of milk and cookies. It was pushing 10pm when Remus glanced at his phone and cursed softly. Janus glanced at his phone as well.

“Ah, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you so late,” he said. Remus shrugged.

“Nah, it’s cool. Thanks for dinner, Jan. It was real good, as always.”

“Where are you staying?”

“Uh… well, the plan was to stay with Logan, but I guess he had some kind of family emergency, so I don’t wanna trouble him. I’ll probably see if I can find a hotel room.”

Janus’ brow furrowed at that. “Why don’t you just stay here?”

“Oh, uh. I don’t wanna trouble you. I kinda feel like I already overstayed my welcome a bit?”

“Nonsense. A hotel room will cost you at least $100 for the night, and that’s simply ridiculous,” Janus insisted. “You should just stay here.”

Remus worried at his lip, which Janus knew meant he was mulling over his options. Then, he nodded. “If it’s not a bother?”

“Of course not. You’re not a bother, Remus.”

Remus’ eyes softened, and he smiled. “Ok. Thank you. Oh… lemmie go get my overnight back outta my truck.”

When Remus came back inside, Janus had just about finished making up the couch. 

“Hey, you don’t gotta get all fancy,” Remus teased. “You know I can sleep basically anywhere.”

“This is for me,” Janus replied. He fluffed up one of the pillows a bit more. “You take the bed.”

An odd look flashed across Remus’ face. “No way, Jan. I’m good on the couch.”

“Remus, you just drove eight hours, and you’re doing it again tomorrow. I am not letting you fuck up your back.”

‘I don’t-”

“Yes you do, no matter how often you say you can sleep anywhere,” Janus scoffed. “You can’t lie to me.”

Remus’ eyes softened, and after a moment, he sighed. “Ok, Jan. But what about you?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You hate sleeping on couches.”

“It’s only one night-”

“And don’t you work tomorrow?”

“Yes, but-”

“You’re going to be so grumpy at work without a proper night’s sleep.”

“I’m usually grumpy at work anyway,” Janus pointed out. Remus snorted.

“Ok, that’s true. But I don’t want you to be even grumpier,” he said. “Let’s just share the bed.”

Janus eyed him for a moment. This was a terrible idea. They should not do this.

“Ok,” Janus said anyway.

They got ready for bed in awkward silence, which just made Janus miss Remus’ long, rambling chatter that much more. When Janus finished in the bathroom, he found Remus sitting gingerly on what used to be his side of the bed. Janus came over and sat down on the other side.

“Hey, uh… thanks,” Remus said. “For lettin’ me stay.”

“Of course,” Janus answered. “I… I still think of you as a friend, Remus.”

At that. Remus grimaced slightly. He didn’t say anything, seeming unable to find the right words. Before he could, Janus pulled back the top blankets on the bed and laid down. After a moment, Remus did the same.

“Good night, Remus,” Janus said quietly.

“...Good night, Janus,” Remus answered. Then he reached over and shut off the light.

-

Remus played that night over and over in his head in the days after he got home, and each and every time, he was just as stumped. 

He knew, in his brain, why he and Janus had broken up. It had been the only thing that made sense at the time, when the facts were just that Remus was moving away to pursue a lifelong dream, and Janus would never ever try to stop him from doing so. So they broke up. It made sense… right? 

But… That morning, he’d woken up to Janus curled up in his arms, face smushed against Remus’ neck, and… Remus had completely forgotten why they had even broken up in the first place.

Remus was back at Roman’s apartment, now. Eight hours away in his own cold bed, arms empty of the man he loved, just staring at the ceiling. A sharp knock on his door snapped him out of his daze.

“Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty,” Roman called. “Don’t you have class in like an hour?”

“Fuck!” Remus scrambled to get up, but succeeded only in rolling out of the bed.

“Don’t forget to lock the door when you leave,” Roman added. Clearly he was unconcerned by the loud “thump” of a body hitting the floor. 

“Yup, got it,” Remus groaned in reply. He staggered, successfully this time, to his feet. 

Getting dressed was a rushed affair of ‘grab whatever’s closest,’ and soon he emerged from the bedroom with one shoe on, the other in his hand, and his backpack slung over one shoulder. He rushed into the kitchen to grab the travel mug of coffee Janus always set out for him in the mornings. And then the realization hit: Janus didn’t live here.

Remus dropped his shoe. 

The rest of the day went about as well as it could have gone without any coffee- that is to say, terribly. He got lost trying to get to campus, then he got lost again trying to get to class. Then he got stuck in traffic on the way back to Roman’s apartment. And then, to top it all off, the grocery store had been out of his favorite chips. 

So here he was, mopey and chip-less, and fucking exhausted. He dumped his backpack and collapsed face-first onto the couch. Roman, who happened to be sitting on said couch, made a noise of protest.

“Move, I need to sulk,” Remus mumbled, though his voice was thoroughly muffled by Roman’s thigh, since that was where his face had landed. 

“What on earth do you need to sulk for?” Roman asked incredulously. He moved to shove Remus off of him, but Remus went full ragdoll, and Roman couldn’t do a damn thing. “You are a grown man, you know.”

Remus turned his head just enough to stick his tongue out at Roman. Roman stuck his tongue out back.

“I had a terrible day, I earned a good sulk.”

“Didn’t like your classes?”

“Nah, they were great.”

“Professors?”

“Great.”

“Classmates?”

“Great.”

“Then Zeus Almighty, what are you so mopey-dopey about?” Roman remanded.

Remus squirmed around so he was laying on his back, head still in Roman’s lap, to look up at his brother. “So… uh… you promise not to get all, like. I told you so and shit?” 

“You miss Janus!”

“No! I-”

“You do!” Roman crowed triumphantly. Remus rolled onto his side so he didn’t have to look at his brother’s dumb gloaty face.

“...Maybe,” he groaned. Abruptly, he clamored to his feet and started for the stairs. “I gotta go build a chair.”

“Carpentry won’t solve your relationship problems,” Roman called after him.

“I know,” Remus called back. “Wrong type of wood.” If Roman had a response to that, Remus was already out the door and didn’t have to hear it. 

Patton found him out in front of the apartment building some time later, a jigsaw in hand, and a pile of cut wooden dowels at his feet.

“Hey, kiddo, what are you up to?”

Remus looked up from where he was balancing a plank of wood precariously across a milk crate, because his work table was one of the things he’d had to leave behind at Janus’ place.

“Oh, hey. Ro-bro’s upstairs.”

Patton gave him the sort of smile teachers gave to the kid they caught eating glue for the fourth time. “That doesn’t look super safe. Do you want any help?”

Remus took in Patton’s soft blue sweater and the dad-jeans from the nicer end of his closet, as well as the reusable grocery store bag that smelled suspiciously like some kind of lovely home-cooked meal; he shook his head. “You look dressed for a date night,” he said. “I don’t wanna fuck up two relationships this week.”

Patton’s eyes, impossibly, got even bigger and softer than they normally were, which honestly was quite the feat. He walked over to the stairs but, instead of making his way up to Roman’s apartment, he plopped down on the third step, facing Remus. Remus stared, bewildered.

“Uh, what’chu doin’ there, pops?”

“Well, it just sounded like you needed to talk,” Patton replied cheerfully. “So here I am.”

Remus stared a moment longer, somehow even more bewildered than before. “Uh…”

“I know I haven’t known you very long,” Patton continued. “But something tells me you’re the type of person who busts out the power tools when you’re upset.”

“How the hell can you tell that?”

Patton glanced over his shoulder, then leaned forward slightly. “Because,” he said, voice lowered conspiratorially. “I’m like that too.”

Remus blinked. “You?”

“Yup! I replaced all the tables and chairs in my house with ones I made myself after my last breakup,” Patton giggled. “Only two of them collapsed when I sat in them, too!”

Remus glanced down at the jigsaw in his hands, and then he sighed. He set it down, and went to sit next to Patton on the steps. 

“Ok, well. Yeah, maybe I’m kinda upset.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Yeah? No? Maybe?”

“Yup, those are your three options!” Patton teased. Remus rolled his eyes.

“Ok, fine. You win, daddy-o. I’m upset because I miss my boyfriend. Or, well, my ex-boyfriend. I want him to be my boyfriend again.”

“Have you told him that?”

“Of course not,” Remus whined.

“Why not?”

“Because… I mean. It wouldn’t change anything. I still moved away. And I don’t even know if he’d want to be my boyfriend again either. Maybe he’s happier now.”

“You don’t know that,” Patton said gently. “Sure, maybe the circumstances aren’t the best right now, but if you both want it, things have a funny way of working out. But you have to talk to him.”

“I…” Remus paused. And then he sighed deeply. “I guess you’re right. Hey thanks, that did actually sorta help.”

Patton offered him a gentle smile. “Of course, Remus! Any time!”

“Hey!”

They both turned to see Roman standing at the top of the stairs, arms crossed.

“My own brother, hogging my boyfriend like this! The betrayal-”

“Relax, Ro, he’s not my type,” Remus shot back. “I prefer sarcastic little menaces.”

Patton giggled at that. He stood up and patted Remus on the shoulder. “I hope things work out,” he said. Remus smiled back.

“Yeah, I hope so too.”

Really, he just wanted Janus to be happy. Ideally with him, but if Janus was happier without him, well… so be it. 

- - -

Janus was miserable. 

“Dude, c’mon,” Virgil grumbled, immediately upon seeing the state of the apartment. “You’ve been watering your plants and filling the humidifiers, but you can’t be bothered to throw out your gross pizza boxes?” A pause. “Wait, you don’t even like pizza, what the hell.”

Janus just shrugged. After letting Virgil and Logan into the apartment, he’d gone straight back into blanket-burrito-on-the-couch mode. And really, he’d only bothered to get up and let them inside in the first place because Virgil had threatened to axe down the door- and Janus knew for a fact that Virgil owned multiple axes. 

“I believe he is engaging in what is described as ‘emotional eating,’ or using food as a coping mechanism in a time of stress and emotional turmoil,” Logan said helpfully. Virgil just huffed.

“That’s fine and all, but Jesus Christ, dude.” He gestured around the livingroom where… ok, yeah, it was a mess.

“Did you two come here just to insult me?” Janus grumbled. His face was half-mashed into a pillow, though, so who knows how much of that was actually discernible.

“We came to make sure you were still alive,” Virgil snapped, indicating that at least most of what Janus had said was discernible. “You weren’t answering any texts.”

“Yes, and you called out of work three days in a row,” Logan added. “We are concerned for you, Janus.”

“I’m perfectly fine,” Janus lied from the comfort of his depression blanket burrito. He was not particularly surprised when neither Virgil or Logan looked even remotely convinced.

“Alright, drastic measure time,” Virgil growled. He walked over to the window, and picked up the young Burgundy Rubber Tree Janus had yet to name. Janus sat bolt upright. 

“Virgil? Don’t you dare-”

Virgil walked past him and vanished down the hall. When he came back, his hands were empty, and he had a smirk on his face.

“Oh, fuck you,” Janus hissed. He dragged himself up off the couch to go rescue the poor thing, finding it stashed in the dark, windowless bathroom. When he came back to the livingroom, Virgil and Logan were sprawled across the couch.

“Ha ha, very funny.” Janus set the rubber tree back on the windowsill alongside the Snake Plant Army. “Ok, I’m up. Are you heathens happy now?”

“I take offense to that,” Logan muttered, while Virgil just crossed his arms and said, curtly, “Spill it.”

“Spill what?”

“Why are you so upset?”

“I’m not upset-”

“Falsehood,” Logan interrupted. “I have known you since high school, Janus, and I have never seen you like this before. It is highly alarming.”

“Is this about Remus?” Virgil asked.

“No,” Janus said immediately. “Of course not.”

Virgil and Logan exchanged a Look. Janus groaned.

“Fuck. Ok, fine. Maybe it is.”

“Was that so hard?” Virgil asked. 

“Yes.”

“You-”

“Janus,” Logan interrupted Virgil’s retort. “It is my understanding that emotional distress is often alleviated through, as they say, ‘talking it out.’ It is clear you are not handling the break-up as well as you initially believed-”

“Of course I’m not!” Janus snapped. He took a deep breath, and turned back to the plants on his windowsill. Kaa, the Sansevieria Moonshine Remus had gotten for Janus as an anniversary present last year, was already leaning slightly toward the window again. He rotated it, and a few of the other snake plants on the sill. And then he realized the others had been quiet for far too long. He turned to find them both watching him with sympathetic expressions. “What?”

“Keep going,” Virgil prompted. Janus sighed. He felt exhausted.

“Of course I’m not,” he said again. “Because I love Remus.”

“And?” Virgil prompted.

“...And I didn’t want us to break up,” he finished, feeling glum. Wordlessly, Virgil stood up, and approached Janus, arms out. Janus stepped into the embrace. Nobody said anything; Janus didn’t cry, but he stood there for a long time. Then, he stepped back.

“Thank you,” he said, and he meant it. Virgil gave him a small smile. Logan cocked his head, seeming confused.

“I don’t understand. You just… needed a hug?”

“Hugs are great, Logan,” Virgil replied. “You should try them sometime- hey, where are you going?”

Janus strode past them both, beelining for his bedroom to find his laptop. Over his shoulder, he answered, “To fill out some job applications.”

- - -

Remus was outside building a new bookshelf- because Patton was moving in, and Roman's teenie-tiny sad little excuse for a bookshelf, which held only Disney DVDs and no actual books, wouldn’t suffice for all of Patton’s cookbooks- when his phone rang. Which was weird, because nobody ever called him, because he never fucking answered.

“Not interested, Mr. Spam Man,” he crooned over the sound of the generic iPhone ringtone. He was learning how to do kerf bending for this bookcase, and goddamn it he wasn’t going to be distracted by-

His phone started ringing again. He swore and ripped off his gloves to silence his phone. But as he did so, he realized the number flashing across his screen was a familiar one. 

“Janus? Are you ok?” he answered the call, half panicked, because Janus hated phone calls almost as much as he did.

“Hi. Yes, everything’s fine.” Janus sounded slightly hysterical, which made Remus feel even more frantic. “Where are you?”

“I’m at Roman’s. Are you sure you’re ok-”

“Great, don’t leave. I’ll be right there.”

“What does that mean-” Remus demanded, but the line was already dead. Remus swore again. He briefly considered calling him back, because what the actual fuck was that all about, but he was only about 30 seconds into that brief consideration before a familiar car tearing through the apartment complex parking lot caught his attention. He quickly brushed as much of the sawdust off his clothes as he could because holy shit Janus had just parked right there in front of Roman’s apartment.

Remus watched, dumbfounded, as Janus scrambled out of his car- dressed in his very nice black suit and pale yellow button-up- and came running across the lawn toward where Remus was working. He had a tiny plant clutched to his chest.

“Uh, Jan, you good?” Remus asked. Janus stopped in front of him and doubled over, breathless, for a few moments. Then, he straightened up, and fixed Remus with a look of sheer determination.

“Remus. I want to get back together.”

Remus’ heart, the traitorous bastard, leaped up into his throat and blocked all his words from coming out. 

“It’s… it’s ok if you don’t want that,” Janus continued. His look of determination faltered slightly. “It’s ok. But I needed to tell you. Because I love you, so much. And I… I didn’t want you to think I didn’t, even if you don't-”

Remus found his words abruptly. “Jan, fuck! I do! I do love you. I never stopped loving you. All I want is to be with you.”

Janus’ eyes softened. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Good, because I’ve just been offered a job here.”

Remus choked. Janus was eyeing him smugly. “You. Just like that, you got a job here?”

“Just like that,” Janus grinned. “I just came from the interview. They offered me a position on the spot.”

Remus couldn't help himself any longer. He lurched forward and pulled Janus tightly into his arms.

“Hey, be careful,” Janus said, though he made absolutely no effort to get out of Remus’ embrace. “You’ll crush our new son.”

Remus pulled back just enough to look at the small plant Janus held in his hands, and only then did his brain register what it was. 

“Is! Is that-”

“Yes,” Janus replied, holding up the tiny Drosera Capensis seedling. Remus had wanted one of these for ages.

“For me?”

“Well, for us, ideally,” Janus answered, with a shy smile. “But, mostly for you, yes.”

Remus gently plucked the baby octopus plant- their new son!- from Janus’ hands, and placed it carefully on top of the milk crate that was serving as his carpentry workbench. Then, he hoisted Janus up off the ground and spun him around.

“Oh- Re-” Janus exclaimed, though he was laughing. “Put me down!”

“No!” Remus trilled. He spun Janus around once more. Then he just stood there, holding Janus, gazing up at him. Janus’ eyes grew soft. Slowly, he carded his fingers through Remus’ hair.

“Hey,” Janus said.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

Remus set Janus down, but kept his arms still wrapped tightly around him. His heart felt warm.

“Hey.”

Janus looked up at him. “Yeah?”

“I love you, too.” 

[sweeethinny]

Insecurities and loneliness

Summary:

Lily faces problems on her first year, problems that Ginny knows very well and knows that she will need to talk about - almost - everything about her own first year. Things are almost never easy in the beginning.

Thanks to @startanewdream, for the prompt, thanks to @whathefawkes for the incredible help and conversation, I hope you all like it.

No, in my HC all cousins are not best friends, because each one has their own life. Lily is the youngest. She is going to the second year, Albus to the fourth, James to the sixth :)

Read bellow the cut or on AO3

'Can I come in?' James asked, looking a little flustered, his cheeks flushed and his hair a little messy, just putting his head into Ginny's office.

'Sure, did something happen?' Ginny continued to sort the papers into organized stacks, keeping her mind working and still trying to pay attention to what James had to say. It was only a week away for her to deliver that work, and if a comma was wrong, she was screwed.

'Look, I don't like to gossip... well, not like that, at least, but I think there's something wrong with Lily.' As soon as he stopped talking, Ginny had already dropped the papers and stared at her son, big eyes towards him, a little scared.

'What do you mean, something wrong?' James looked at his own feet, seeming to think the exact words, and Ginny hated that he was not as impulsive in these moments as she was, but more rational like Harry.

'Mira realized that... I also noticed... that she is a little alone. Since Rose traveled... She doesn't seem to have friends.' James grimaced, as if he didn't like having to say it out loud. 'I know it's her first year, but Lily seems a little out of place, I don't know. I mean, Louis is out, Rose is older than she, Hugo and she are not that attached, Albus has his friends.. I just want to say that maybe she is feeling a little alone. She was alone all afternoon today, basically, in the living room. Albus is locked up with Scorpion and even when they go to the kitchen, I don’t think they’ll talk to her, and I was with Mira… We asked her out, but Lily said she didn’t want to.’

'I'm going to talk to her,' Ginny assured, thinking that those papers could wait a few more hours. Harry would work until later, and she could take the time to work. Something about her maternal instinct didn't seem to like what James was saying. 'Thanks.'

'You're welcome.' James smiled, waving and running out of her office, leaving Ginny surrounded by silence.

She didn't want Lily to feel alone, Ginny knew what it felt like to be alone and the consequences of that weren't the best. Her daughter was the youngest and her brothers always seemed too busy for her. Lily was the youngest of the entire family. Perhaps the lack of a close cousin and with her age would make her feel more alone than usual.

Of course, Ginny noticed that James and Albus got letters from their friends, but Lily only received a few from time to time from Rose, but she particularly believed that her daughter had found other ways to communicate with friends. Through the mirror, or perhaps, she would send letters but she was only more discreet; Ginny felt like a bad mother.

Leaving her office in the underground, next to Harry's and their wine cellar, Ginny went up the stairs and walked towards the living room, where a loud noise of voices was heard. The room was dark, even though there were still traces of sunlight outside, the curtains all drawn, and the only source of light was the TV on over the fireplace. Lily almost disappeared in the middle of the sofa cushions, lying where Harry used to be. There was a thin blanket on top of her, an empty popcorn jar, empty cookie wrapper inside the jar, and a cup on the coffee table, which Ginny guessed was chocolate milk.

Which made her understand the gravity of the situation and how miserable Lily was feeling, since she only drank hot chocolate when it was miserably cold, or when she was miserable.

The girl's arm was still bandaged, as she had fallen off the broom when she was trying to accompany James on high, and Harry was unable to fully relieve the fall. Lily had been fine, even though Ginny had seen her terrified eyes when the healer said that she would need to put the bone in place and it would probably hurt.

'Hey,' Ginny said quietly, walking around the couch to sit next to the girl, who did not take her eyes off the TV, where now a blonde girl seemed willing to dye her hair black. 'All right?'

'Yea,' Lily murmured, shrugging her shoulders as if she didn't pay much attention to her mother. Ginny smiled sadly.

'James said you didn't want to go out with him and Mira today... did anything happen?' She tried again, lifting the blanket and lying next to Lily, as they used to do before she went to Hogwarts.

‘They clearly didn’t want me to go together. So, I didn't.' Lily continued without looking at Ginny, her glasses reflecting a little of the colored lights that came from the TV.

'Do you want to talk?' This time, Lily turned her attention away from the TV, for a few seconds, looking at Ginny quickly before turning around again.

'No.' Ginny nodded, trying not to take it too personally.

'Do you want to help me make dinner? I thought about cooking that pasta dough that your dad made… Maybe make meatballs?' Ginny knew it was her favorite dish, of course, it wasn't Harry's homemade pasta with meatball, but she could try.

'Why doesn't Al help you?' Lily said, looking at her mother again. 'Or is he too busy?' Lily's sarcastic tone didn't go unnoticed, and Ginny didn't think it was even the girl's intention to make it clear what she meant, but still, it hurt a little inside her. The 11-year-old Ginny seemed to feel the pain that Lily felt.

'Your brothers are very busy, huh?' Ginny tried, stepping on eggs and afraid to end up breaking one, causing Lily not to open up to her.

'Everyone is.' The girl pulled the blanket up to her chin, turning her attention back to the TV.

‘Even your friends?’

'They didn't send me any letters, so they must also be busy.' Ginny wanted to break the main rule that she and Harry stipulated when Teddy started being a tantrum teenager, which was ''give them space to talk when they feel comfortable'', and wanted to hug Lily and ask a million questions and then go up to James and Albus' room and force them to interact with their sister.

But Ginny was steady, taking a deep breath and trying to keep her composure.

'Did you send them a letter?' It seemed that it hurt Ginny more than it hurt her daughter, the monster from the past terrorizing her mind, even if it wasn't real at all.

Ginny knew that eventually it would happen, and that raising a girl would bring out this demon she kept under lock and key.

Dealing with Teddy, James or Albus' insecurities seemed a lot easier now. It was as if theirs didn't hurt as deeply as the ones she shared with Lily.

Ginny knew what it was like to be lonely even with a big family.

'It's just her. I only have one friend,' Lily said, looking ashamed of it. 'And I did, but she didn't respond.' Ginny blew out a breath that she hadn't even realized she was holding, closing her eyes for a second as if she was trying to find the right words.

‘Lily, honey-’

'-It's okay,' Lily interrupted, speaking a little louder, as if she was controlling herself to explode. 'She looked like she was my friend just because of James, anyway.' She shrugged, denying vehemently as if she wanted to forget. ‘Okay, I’m over it.’

‘Lily-’

'-It is true. I'm fine here. Today I saw three good films, and two bad ones, much better than yesterday, that everything I watched was bad.’ She smiled, as if she was trying to be happy. 'Besides, maybe when I remove the sling, I can improve my nail painting technique. The left hand always gets worse than the right.'

‘My love, but are you going to be locked in here?’

'But there's not much to do, mom,' Lily complained, her voice wavering and shaking. 'Rose is traveling, Teddy is away, Albus is always very busy, and James too. Everyone has something to do but me.' Her brown eyes teared up behind her glasses, which was the last straw for Ginny, who hugged the girl as if she were still her little baby, lying trapped against her chest and kissing her forehead.

Her mother's heart, which wanted to protect her children from all harm and pain, broke when she felt Lily's tears wet her white button-down shirt, one arm hugging her back, while keeping the other protected from the grip.

Ginny wanted to be able to feel that pain herself, wanted to open Lily's chest and remove any shadow of insecurity that might arise, with her own hands, to take care lovingly so that she would never doubt herself, and that she would always be happy.

But Ginny also knew that she couldn't do that, not just because of the obvious, but because it would help Lily grow and learn to defend herself. It was necessary if Ginny wanted her daughter to be independent and really sure of herself.

However, it still hurt.

Ginny kissed Lily's head, stroking her red hair, and closing her eyes when the demons themselves seemed to want to visit her, the ones who hardly made any more noise but who occasionally tormented her.

'I didn't have a good first year either,' Ginny started, her voice strangled. 'I also felt lonely and out of place, and a little lost, because I saw my brothers just being my brothers at home and when I got there everyone had friends of their own, and they were famous, and they didn't seem to care much for me.' She laughed sadly, pressing Lily against her. 'But I know they still loved me, they just had their own lives, and I know it hurts when we don't feel inside any group, or when we see ourselves alone, but... You are not alone, Lily. You never will be. It's your first year, everyone who came in with you is also lost, I promise you that, and little by little you will get to know more people, loosen up more, and make friends... This girl? Maybe she really is your friend, even though she likes James.. It’s because he is older, and when we are that age the older boys look much more interesting.’

'But James is ugly,' Lily complained, her voice muffled against her mother's shirt. Ginny laughed softly, thinking about how that sounded a little with a little bit of jealousy.

'Well, maybe your friend doesn't think so. Who knows, maybe she just can't answer the letter? Call her to come here, or to come with us to the Amusement Park next week. What about?'

'What if she doesn't want to?' Lily lifted her head, her glasses fogged and a little crooked on her face, her brown eyes a little red from crying.

'So, when you return to Hogwarts you make other friends. Maybe you meet someone on the train and become friends with that person, who knows? The youngest always go alone, it is a good opportunity to meet someone. That's how I met Aunt Luna.’ Ginny smiled, seeing her smile too. Not a big smile, but a lot better than the crying of before. ‘James was worried about you.’

'James?' Lily's eyes blinked, looking confused by that brother's demonstration. Ginny would have to talk to him and Albus about not leaving Lily alone at Hogwarts, at least for now, while she was still adapting.

'Yes… I know that now he and Albus don't seem to want you around, and I swear, when you get to their age you will also feel that way, but they are still your brothers, and they still love you. Never forget that, okay?’

'Okay.' She nodded, her cheeks a little flushed.

'And me and your father always, Lily, always, we will be here. You can always send us a letter and call us whenever you feel necessary or want to talk. Never think you can't tell us how you feel, okay? Promise me.' The demons who seemed to have woken up with that situation, stirred inside her, as if only the memory of what she lived and the times she thought of telling that she felt something was wrong but was afraid, would make her want to cry again.

It had been a few years since the last time something had reminded her of Tom and made her feel that way.

'I promise.' Lily hugged her, as if now it was Ginny who needed that warmth.

It soothed her in a way, it was like the times when Harry held her after a nightmare, silently promising that it was all over and that she was fine.

'Are you going to make dinner with me? I bought the cookies you like.’

'This is a great way of bribing,' The girl took the blanket off them, dragging herself off the couch. 'But I'm still going to paint my nails.' Lily picked up the whole mess of dishes and packaging, following her mother into the kitchen after turning off the TV.

'Okay, we can do this together.' Ginny smiled, winking at her. 'I love you, my love.' She hugged her once again, taking advantage of the fact that Lily still liked affection, and had not yet reached Albus' age, who seemed to hate showing affection.

‘I love you too, mom.’

'Now, tell me...' Ginny cleared her throat, taking the pasta dough that Harry had made two days ago. 'Mira and James?' Lily's eyes widened, turning away from her and opening the refrigerated cupboard where they kept the meat, looking like she wanted to buy time.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, mom.’

| LATER |

'Hey,' James interrupted the music Lily was listening to, sitting on the bedroom floor as she arranged the new books her father had bought for her, by color. She almost got off the ground with a fright, looking at the door and seeing Albus and James standing there. ‘How are you?’ The older asked, wearing only an old pair of shorts that were stained with paint. Albus looked as if he had been forcibly pulled out of bed, with messy hair and the old wrinkled Muggle band T-shirt, as well as the shorts he wore.

'Fine. Did something happen?' Lily was surprised, they almost never entered her room, Teddy did, but James and Albus not.

'No, we just wanted to be with you,' Albus said, showing the Explosive Snap box he was carrying. 'Want to play?'

'Hm... yes.' She frowned, placing the last book on the shelf and crawling forward, being followed by her brothers who also sat on the floor, not even complaining about the music she heard.

'I brought you cake, I thought you would want it too.' James reached for a plate for her, a nice piece of the carrot cake that Al and Harry had made the day before. Lily smiled.

'Of course, thank you.' She imagined that her mum might have spoken to them, or maybe - and more likely - James had forced Albus to accompany him, but Lily didn't care much, she liked that they at least cared for her, it didn't matter how they got there. ‘Mom asked me about you and Mira today.’

'What?' James turned, his cheeks incredibly red.

'Oh, James, you were discovered.' Albus laughed, pushing his brother's shoulder with a slight provocation.

'I didn't say anything.' Lily swore. 'You're welcome.'

'Thank you.' James was still flushed, but rolled his eyes when she and Al laughed. ‘I don’t even know why she asked if there’s nothing going on.’

'So can I tell her that I saw you two kissing today?' Albus asked, a cheeky smile on his face, eyebrows raised.

'Fuck off, Albus.' James pushed him back, which only made them laugh even more.

Mum was right after all, Lily thought, filling her mouth with cake and watching Albus tease James even more, they were still brothers and her best friends.

[blouisparadise]

Upon request, here is a rec list of bottom Louis fics where Louis is pining for Harry. We hope you’ll enjoy this list. We also have a mutual pining rec list here and we will have a pining Harry rec list eventually. Happy reading!

1) Down On Your Knees, You Don’t Look So Tall | Explicit | 3445 words

Louis and Harry are friends, and best ones at that. Louis loves Harry more fiercely more than he's ever loved anyone, so he doesn't really have a problem with it when they start doing this thing. this wonderful, wonderful thing.

2) You Had Me At Hello | Explicit | 4529 words

Louis works in the shop next to Harry's cupcake shop.   Louis pines after Harry until he goes into a heat and Harry finally catches up.

3) Just Like Live Wires | Explicit | 5427 words

Harry climbs into Louis’ bed when he’s cold. Louis pines.

4) Something To Live For | Mature | 5535 words

After over a century of waiting for Harry to realize they're mates,  Louis gets his heart broken when his friend announces he's found his 'one' in a human girl named Teresa. Wanting only happiness for Harry, Louis accepts that it just wasn't meant to be and decides it's time to let go of the immortal life.

5) Five Times Harry Styles Was Jealous | Mature | 6184 words

Harry's jealous all the time but there were five times that definitely stand out. Five times that changed Louis and Harry's relationship.

6) On My Mind All The Time, Say You're Mine | Explicit | 9261 words

“Dude, we’re inside, and it’s night time. Those don’t look as cool as you think they do.” Louis could kick himself, he sounded so stupid, but it certainly got the guy’s attention.

It was at that unfortunate moment that he noticed several other things about this hot asshole, that he hadn’t noticed just staring from afar. First, when Louis spoke to him, his gaze was kind of unfocused behind his sunglasses, and secondly, that he had a red and white cane folded up under his arm.

“I’m… Blind,” the man chuckled, awkwardly.  

Louis wanted to melt into a puddle out of pure embarrassment.

“I— am so sorry. I have to go.”

“Hey, wait, wait,” the man soothed, grabbing at Louis’ shoulders before he could get away.

“I’m sorry,” Louis repeated, looking down at his shoes.

“It’s alright,” He cackled. “I get it a lot. More than you know.”

7) Let The Beating Waves Come Drag Me Down | Explicit | 9447 words

“Just try it, the worst thing that could ever happen it’s that you won’t like it” Niall had told him. And there he was, on the way to one of these pubs created for perverts, willing to break up the routine to try something new, something that terrified as much as excited him.

One night to get swept up in passion, one night to let the devil get in.

"Tonight, I’m going to make you scream of ecstasy Louis,” he said with a raspy voice full of control, making him tremble with anticipation.

8) Got It Right Such A Long Time Ago | Explicit | 9699

There are a lot of people Harry might expect to find on his doorstep at three o’clock in the afternoon these days.

It could be the delivery man, come to drop off the pair of boots Harry impulsively ordered online last week. It could be one of his neighbors, dropping by to complain about how a party he’d thrown weeks ago had clogged up the street. It could also be any number of his friends in L.A., who stop by unannounced most days to mooch off Harry’s food or whisk him away to try some new yogurt shop.

As a rule, it definitely cannot be Louis Tomlinson, although Harry’s blinked at least three times now, and it’s still Louis standing there, a backpack slung over his shoulder and a duffel bag at his feet.

9) You Know What They Say | Explicit | 10232 words

Nice guys always finish last.

10) Call If You Need Me | Explicit | 10770 words

If anyone asks later on, Louis plans to tell them that it’s all Niall’s fault.

11) Love Is Like This; Not A Heartbeat, But A Moan | Explicit | 13150 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

In which Harry loves Louis, but Louis has been cold to him ever since he presented as an omega at age fifteen.

Eight years later, Louis approaches Harry with a request, and who is Harry to deny him?

12) Just Let Me | Mature | 14714 words

The party was going well. So well, Niall had already sworn undying love to one multi-tiered chocolate cake, two friendly corgi-poodle mixes, Zayn’s hair, and the entire population of Los Angeles. So well, Zayn had only laughed and ruffled Niall’s hair and not even twitched towards a cigarette. So well, nearly everyone had spilled far past the boundaries of the night’s original plans, extracting bottles of vodka from the cabinets and losing a lot of clothes. Harry had proclaimed that he was finally going to throw a small and very grownup dinner party and of course here they were three hours later, fifty people half-naked in the pool. Soon to be full-naked, if Louis had to guess. Everybody in LA loved a heated pool. Everybody loved Harry.

13) We’re the New Romantics | Explicit | 16054 words

Alternatively, a high school au where Louis pines and Harry is not who he seems to be. Featuring peanut butter banana milkshakes, motorcycles, and first times.

14) Wait For Me (To Come Home) | Explicit | 16066 words

A future fic of time stamps where Louis finally comes to grips with a love he'd denied for too long.

15) Deflower Me | Explicit | 20154 words

Louis is a proud virgin, and no matter how much society tries to make him feel like a freak for not acting on his natural urges, he doesn't suffer from his lack of experience. He has never felt drawn to someone in a way that made him want to get involved sexually with them, and he isn't planning on rushing himself so he can get some because people think it's what he should do.

In walks Fratboy, the Serial Haunter of His (wet) Dreams, who thankfully has a little business going on that might be just what Louis needs.

16) I Wanna Be More Than Friends | Not Rated | 20721 words

The one where Harry’s an alpha with no sense of smell, Louis’ an omega who isn’t allowed to scent his best friend, and that’s all they’ll ever be. Obviously.

17) The Way The Storm Blows | Explicit | 21649 words

Louis doesn’t have a habit of thinking about Harry’s dick.

That would be weird, seeing as they’re best mates, and they share a flat, and they’ve spent holidays at each other’s family homes. Their friendship hasn’t ever risen to a point where Louis should want to see his mate’s dick, and he’s happy to keep it that way.

Except, all that Louis can think about is exactly that. The size of it. The shape. The amount of people it’s been in.

Maybe it’s the tequila talking, or the fact that Louis’ just recently walked in to an eyeful of Harry taking turns on some slags that he’s never seen before, but. Louis’ mind can’t stop obsessing over the idea.

18) Ours Are The Moments I Play In The Dark | Mature | 30830 words

Jane Austen's Persuasion AU. Nine years ago Louis Tomlinson was persuaded to break off his engagement to Harry Styles, a poor sailor. Since then Louis has come to regret being so easily convinced to give up his one chance of happiness. Now Louis' family is in debt and his childhood home is being sold. In a complete reversal of fortune, Harry has returned to England a wealthy bachelor looking to settle down. Events conspire to bring them together once more though Louis is- must surely be- the last man on earth that Captain Styles would think of now.

19) If Ignorance Be Bliss | Mature | 30429 words

Uni AU: Harry is too experienced, and Louis just wants to get to experience him.

20) Where The Lights Are Beautiful | Mature | 31170 words

The accidental bonding a/b/o fic.

21) Mark My Word (We Gon’ Be Alright) | Explicit | 35524 words

"He’s always known that there would come a time when Harry would bond with some beautiful, quiet omega, and they would have lots of curly-haired pups and live happily ever after.

Knowing it and living it are two very different things, though. Watching the object of your affection desperately search for a mate and completely disregard you as an option is all sorts of painful, but it is what it is, and Louis is just going to have to learn to live with that."

22) Before We Knew | Explicit | 39831 words

Louis has been skeptical of soulmates for years so it seems like fate when he finally bumps into the owner of the obnoxiously large signature printed into his skin since age sixteen: Harry Styles, a human rights attorney who is firmly against soulmates.

23) Eyes Off You I Explicit | 39396 words

A Charlie’s Angels inspired fic where Louis is the brains, Harry is the charm, Liam is the muscle, and Niall drives the getaway car - and Zayn is there, too. sometimes.

24) Kiss Me On The Mouth And Set Me Free (Nut Please Don't Bite) | Mature | 42074 words

Harry is the CEO of Flora Corp, Louis is his new secretary.

"...Louis wanted him so badly. Wanted Harry to pick him up, bite him, and break him. Make Louis his, make Louis cry, make Louis a beautiful, plump, pregnant omega..."

25) Let Me Touch You Where Your Heart Aches | Explicit | 46625 words

A Friends with Benefits AU, in which Louis falls in love and Harry is jealous. There is some Karaoke singing somewhere in there, because how do you write a romantic comedy without a Karaoke scene?

26) Underneath The Moon | Mature | 46927 words

In five years’ time, Louis would be the one saying to his students about how he knew the great Harry Styles, in a time before he had ever put out an album or performed on a real stage. Harry fucking Styles had been his best friend and he still loved him, he always would. But they couldn’t stay that way.

27) The Sidelines | Explicit | 47078 words

Note: There are mentions of Top Louis.

Or Harry and Louis play hockey for Penn state and can’t stand one another, since they can’t keep their hatred off the ice their coach and team do what they can to keep their hard earned spot in the playoffs and their two star players from killing each other.

28) Waiting For The Tides To Meet | Explicit | 59873 words

Soulmate AU. Everyone is born with heterochromia — one eye is their own eye colour, while the other is the colour of their soulmate's. It's only when they meet their soulmate for the first time that their own eyes match properly. After a hazy night at a frat party, Louis wakes up to blue eyes and the shocking realization that he had met his soulmate, without any sober recollection. Seven years pass where Louis comes to terms with the fact that he'll never know who his soulmate is. Then one fated summer, a beautiful green-eyed photographer arrives at Louis' workplace, with promises of endless laughter and a familiar feeling in Louis' heart.

29) Pinkies Never Lie | Explicit | 83615 words | Sequel

AU in which Louis hates his job and loves Harry, Harry just wants a distraction, everyone else wants them to get their shit together, and Louis learns the hard way that new beginnings are only possible when something ends.

30) Inevitable | Explicit | 185917 words

AU where Louis and Harry used to be more than friends, but everything had to change the day Harry introduces Louis to his new girlfriend.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

[rphelperblog]

Magicians Quote Rp Meme

There is knowledge behind that door that could destroy more than just people. It could destroy worlds.

I’m dead but there’s still hot chocolate. That’s a good sign.

Apocalypse! Apocalypse! Apocalypse! Isn’t it wonderful?

No hurting anyone. No casting magic. No sex. Trust me. You locked down any possible fun.

Life is raw. Everybody medicates.

I’m literally becoming less cool with every word you speak.

What are you doing here, sad little nerd king?

Listen, we’re not trying to step on the foot of big government, we’re just trying to not die.

Magic doesn’t come from talent, it comes from pain.

Always be polite to librarians. They look harmless but they do regulate the good stuff, you know. Make them cranky and all of a sudden there’s this lag time when you put in a request.

This isn’t Middle Earth. There aren’t enough noble quests to go around.

Hell is real, and it smells like Axe body spray.

Everyone has a line. Apparently, mine is turning over a list to what’s starting to feel like a goddamned totalitarian regime. Who knew. I have to resign.

There’s something I want you to know, Sister. This world, it’s not just the bad things or the ones that wronged us. There is such beauty, in everything, even the quiet. Especially the quiet.

You’re no god! You’re a farm animal! You’re a farm animal!

I don’t know how we’re supposed to talk about this if we’re not allowed to talk about this.

:You saved my life. You can save my life fifty times. It’s not going to change anything between us. I love you.

"Becoming Me Was The Greatest Creative Project Of My Life"

"Someone Is "Xoxo, Gossip Girl"-Ing Our Sh*T"

First Rule Of Politics On Earth: All You Have To Do Is Say It, It Doesn't Have To Be True"

"Be Regal Miscreants"

"Listen, I Have A Man In My Head. Head Is Looking For A Body And You Have One That You Don't Even Really Want"

"Magic Doesn't Come From Talent, It Comes From Pain"

“There’s no such thing as safe magic; you should know that.Might as well take a risk.”

“You're not very remarkable. You're smart, but no genius. You do magic, but nothing special. And the worst is, you're so eager to belong, you even forget why you're here.”

“There is no destiny, no born heroes.  I can’t tell you why - why The Beast came sniffing for you.  There’s no reason it should be you.  You can either step up to it or not, it’s up to you.  We’ll just hope for the best.” 

“You don’t see color and want to go back to black and white.” 

“It doesn’t matter what anyone tells you; you make the web you’re in.  You’re the spider and the fly.”

“I don’t need to be taught what magic is or isn’t; I need to be taught magic, so that I can decide what it is or isn’t, for me.” 

“Please tell me that someone has pointed out to you that magic doesn’t come from sunshine and ice cream.  For any of us.”

A great way to get the things you want is to be so miserable that you don’t want them anymore.” 

“There’s a word for when you lean on something:  a crutch.  Replacing drugs or booze or porn or whatever with a Higher Power is just swapping out one crutch for another.”

“My brain breaks sometimes.”

“Get over yourself, Ned Stark.”

“I chose to be High Queen.  And I have had to fight for every shred of authority.  And no offense, but you can’t understand because it was handed to you.”

“I’m the sanest woman in America, thanks to the fourteen pills I took this morning.  I actually can’t really feel anything; it’s fantastic!”

“Who am I to judge?  I almost blew a werewolf just so he’d turn me. Magical creatures; they can hang onto magic just fine.”

“Q, c’mon, I love you, but you have to know that that’s not me and it’s definitely not you, not when we have a choice.”

“You reek of non-dairy creamer and despair.” 

“You see?  This is why I don’t hang out with you people!”

“But on the bright side, we were pitch perfect!”

[free-pool-trash]

folklore - isaac lahey {7/?}

Hey guys! Sorry for the long wait I’ve been ridiculously busy the past few weeks 😓BUT!!! As compensation I made this part super long and fluffy with sooooooo much Isaac/reader content (enjoy it while you can because shits gonna be messy from here on out 🤭🙈)

Having said that, I don’t have my laptop right now as I moved houses and my stuff got put into storage so I’m working with the mobile version 😓 sorry in advance if formatting is weird I tried to make it better 😓 also there’s no continue reading button so sorry if this comes up on your dash 😭

Let me know what you think tho I’d really appreciate it 💕

Word count: 5.5k 🙈

Warnings: Fluff 😳, mentions of blood, Derek being a PAIN IN THE ASS, Isaac being the cutest 😌✨, ✨kissing✨, swearing

Masterlist

Tag list (open as always): @makeusfreefromthisfandom om, @cece-lives-here here, @chocolate-raspberries , @belsandthings , @dancing-tacos-23 , @truly-dionysus , @britty443 , @tanyaherondale , @furiouspockettoad , @yunsh-17 17, @random-thoughts-003 , @gloomybrieyxb , @futuristicslimemongerbanana , @linkpk88 , @big-galaxy-chaos , @im-a-stranger-thing , @riaisnotcool (I think u had a username change but idk let me know and I can fix it), @its-evita-here , @pad-foots , @sweetpeabellamyblakedracomalfoy , @bookswillfindyouaway , @what-the-hap-is-fuckening , @awkwardnesshabitat , @pieces-by-me me, @wreny24 , @kerosene-angel (if this is the wrong username I’m sorry it wasn’t working the way I had written it down so I’m assuming I just took it down wrong 😳 it it’s not you let me know and I’ll remove you), @marveloucnco o, @babypink224221 let me know if you’d like to be added <3 (strike through means tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you)

The days you’d spent in Mystic Falls bled into weeks and soon enough you were being beckoned back to Beacon Hills with a head full of things you hadn’t had a clue about two weeks prior.

There, of course, was the matter of Peter- who was now dead, well technically, he was murdered.

Derek’s first course of action as Beacon Hills’ new alpha was to break the news to you. He’d killed him but due to Scott and Stiles’ constant text updates, you knew it would’ve had to be done sooner or later. But still, you had a feeling that this wouldn’t be the last of him. That small intuitive feeling in the back of your mind told you that you’d see him again soon. You just hoped your next meeting wouldn’t be happening because you ended up buried next to him.

Over the course of your stay with Alaric, who had left you in the care of the Salvatore brothers- Stefan and Damon, you’d honed several new vampiric powers. As it turned out, some of the powers you possessed were completely unfamiliar to the vampires of over a hundred years.

You had super speed, it wasn’t just enhanced as you’d previously thought. As well as that, you’d discovered that you could run circles around both Stefan and Damon Salvatore, who were obviously a lot older and therefore should’ve been a lot faster.

And for that matter, they should’ve been stronger than you, they should’ve been able to snap you like a twig. They should’ve been able to. But they weren’t. Because not only were you faster, you were stronger too.

While having super speed and super strength was nice, mind compulsion, your most recent discovery, now that was incredible. All you had to do was look into someone’s eyes and they would become completely entranced to do whatever you told them.

Despite being over a hundred years old, neither Stefan nor Damon had ever seen a vampire quite like you.

They’d never seen a vampire who was also an empath, that, apparently, was usually more of a witch thing. Neither of them had ever come across a vampire bite which had a euphoric effect either. But having said all of that… they’d never heard of someone being turned from a wolf bite. Or a vampire who still had a beating heart, for that matter.

Your only real downfalls were that, for one, your blood’s healing capacity didn’t operate at the same speed for you as it did when being used to heal others. You’d put this down to the possibility that maybe your system had just grown too used to it. To be perfectly honest, though, you had no idea.

Secondly, your empathic tendencies were beginning to bring you down, but it wasn’t just that… it was the way in which you’d been instructed, by Damon Salvatore himself, on how to make them stop.

The plane ride home to California dragged on longer than you would’ve liked, the flight was delayed and you were absolutely starving by the time Derek picked you up from the airport. Your parents were still away, they’d travelled to Romania in search of answers to your predicament and they wouldn’t be home until at least next week, so that left Derek on chauffeur and babysitting duty.

“How are you?” He’d only spoken up thirty minutes into the car ride, you let out a sigh from the passenger seat and gave him a tired smile, you could feel the nerves radiating from him. He was afraid you’d be mad at him for killing Peter, and maybe you should’ve been, but again, you had a feeling he’d be back, and besides, spending time with Damon had helped you realise that everything wasn’t so black and white. It finally registered with you that people like Derek and Damon, the dark mysterious bad boys with secret hearts of gold- they sometimes did bad things but with good intentions.

Once you discovered this, you decided amongst yourself that you’d ease up on your not-really-big-brother in the future. Even if it meant you got hurt a little in the process. If hurting you was what he needed to do to learn his lesson then you’d be willing to make that sacrifice.

So you gave him a soft smile and answered, “Hungry.”

Derek let out a chuckle at that, nodding his head towards the backseat, drawing your attention to the three full blood bags laying on the leather seats.

A delighted gasp left your mouth as you snatched the plastic bags into your hands, wasting no time you stuck the attached tube into your mouth and began gulping the first bag down- it was definitely Stiles’ blood you were drinking, you’d gotten so used to the taste of it you were sure you could recognise it anywhere.

Letting out a happy groan you threw your head back against the headrest, “Stiles Stilinski you are a doll.”

Derek chuckled again, glancing at you fondly before his steely eyes returned to the road ahead.

It was only another 30 minutes before you were back in your driveway. “So are you staying here until my parents get back?” You questioned from the porch as Derek got your bags from the trunk of his car, the wolf shook his head with a smile, “Nah, I’ve got some stuff to do at home.”

“Derek, that home isn’t even structurally sound.” You chastised softly. Surely he’d be happier spending time with the family he still had breathing rather than living in the remnants of what used to be his.

Walking up to the porch, Derek placed your case down gently by your feet and moved himself to stand in front of you. A genuine smile painted his lips as he gazed at you, “New rule.” He stated, placing both of his hands on either of your forearms before going on, eyes staring affectionately into your own, “From now on, I will be doing all the worrying about you, alright? Not the other way around.”

With a defeated sigh, you nodded your head. “I’ll try my best.” That had been a lie. Unable to blind you with his unusually sweet sentiment, through the physical contact you could tell he was scheming.

“Good. Now, go get some rest I’ll come check up on you in the morning.” He kissed your forehead and then made his way back to his car, speeding out of your driveway and out of sight before you’d even unlocked the door.

The house was cold and empty when you’d re-entered. A shiver ran up your spine the second your feet stepped past the threshold. Something was very wrong, and unfortunately, you couldn’t tell what exactly it was that was so wrong. The feeling was unnerving, it was dark and it was agonisingly heavy. Like anxiety on steroids, lots of steroids.

Swallowing thickly, you gripped -more like clawed- at your chest. Nails scraping your skin as you attempted to catch a single breath, though it seemed that oxygen was determined to outrun you as you glanced around helplessly.

Almost twenty minutes has passed as you heaved and gasped frantically, overwhelming dread flooded your chest while simultaneously tears flooded your eyes, and still you didn’t have even the slightest idea of what it all meant.

And then it hit you. That panic- it didn’t belong to you.

Within a second you’d risen to your feet, breathing still staggered while you rushed out the front door, your vampire speed being put to good use as within seconds you were where your panic had led you. Night had fallen by now and it was completely dark, not to mention absolutely freezing, the hoodie you had on doing nothing to protect you from the biting cold in the air. The trail of feelings you’d been chasing had led you to Beacon Hills cemetery and before your eyes, there it was, the something that was very wrong.

Derek and Isaac. More specifically, Derek’s teeth buried in Isaac’s arm. You hadn’t even registered what you were doing when you ripped Derek from Isaac and violently threw him across the cemetery, the impact in which the Hale hit the tree all the way at the edge of the graveyard was a testimony to your strength. You hadn’t even used half it.

Without hesitation, you inspected Isaac’s body frantically, eyes lingering on the bloody bite across his right arm. Slowly and mournfully, your eyes met his, which were wide with shock. His heart was beating out of his chest to the point where you couldn’t ignore it.

“What did he do to you?” The question slipped out as a whisper, your anger melted away only to be replaced by dread as Isaac began to speak, “He offered me the bite and I- I said yes.”

“Isaac…” Your gaze drifted to the bite and you weren’t surprised to see it already healed. “I’m sorry.” You heard him mutter from above you, his anxiety pooling in your chest and mixing with his guilt.

Shaking your head softly you pulled him into you, your arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders while his own arms held you tightly against him as you kissed his temple to release him of the intense anxiety plaguing him. “Don’t be sorry. I understand.”

He relaxed against you upon hearing your words, the two weeks you’d been gone made him realise something, he was utterly useless without you, or so he thought. He felt weak. He felt as though if he didn’t have you as emotional support he was defective. Derek had honed in on that and manipulated it to his advantage, convinced Isaac that the bite was what he needed in order to be strong by himself. To keep you safe instead of you protecting him all of the time.

“Was that really necessary?” Derek’s voice broke the moment and you found anger was surging through you once again. You separated from Isaac to face Derek.

At this point, you didn’t care what his intentions had been, you weren’t going to let him away with this.

“I’m going to give you three seconds to explain why you did this.” As Derek moved to speak you ruthlessly cut him off. “Too slow.” And with that the back of your hand met his cheek, again sending him flying, only not as far this time.

His fangs were barred now, as were yours. Both of your eyes glowing, his red ones threatening as he attempted to demonstrate his power. And yet again, you had a revelation.

You couldn’t stop the laugh that fell from your lips, a synacal and sarcastic lilt to it as you towered over Derek’s form on the floor.

“Oh I get it!” You exclaimed, lip held between your teeth in mock disbelief you pressed your palm to your forehead as you spoke, “You thought you’d go around and stalk some kids so you could add to your big bad pack. Right?” He growled at you and attempted to pick himself up, only for you to give a swift, hard kick to his chest, returning his back to the dirt.

“I guess you told him it’d make him stronger? That it’d make all of his problems go away? And what about the Argent’s, huh? Did you tell him that you were manipulating him?” It was then, again in panic, Isaac spoke up to your surprise, in Derek’s defence.

“(Y/n), I promise it isn’t like that! He told me everything, it was my choice I said yes!” You spared him a glance before crouching down to Derek.

“Well did you tell him how you usually treat your pack?” The words were dripping in venom and the guilt that radiated from the man didn’t deter you from moving forward with you verbal attack, your head turning to Isaac, your eyes sparkling with sadness as you locked eyes with him, speaking hoarsely you wondered out loud, “Did he tell you that he’s a liar? That he doesn’t know how to run a pack? That if he doesn’t understand you he’ll leave you in the dust?”

The look on his face spoke volumes as he recalled the state Derek had put you in the weeks previous.

With a final sneer in Derek’s direction you delivered your parting words, “You better treat him better than you continue to treat me or so help me Derek Hale I will tear you to shreds.”

As you angrily stormed away, Isaac stood in confusion for a second before he began to chase after you, leaving Derek on the dirt floor to help himself.

“(Y/n)! (Y/n) please wait!” He shouted as he was just starting to catch up to you. When you felt that you were at a good enough distance away from Derek you finally slowed your pace.

When Isaac finally made it to your side, he was panting slightly, swallowing the lump in his throat he nervously grabbed your hand.

“I’m sorry.” He repeated, his eyes resembling those of a puppy and you could already feel your composure slipping away from you as you looked at him.

It’d been almost three weeks since you’d seen him, three weeks since you’d made out in the school basement and this definitely wasn’t how you were expecting the reunion to go.

“Isaac it isn’t your fault. I’m not mad at you, ok? I get it. I’m just worried, this town isn’t exactly kind on the supernatural.” You reassured him gently, squeezing his hand and giving him a sad smile.

“Don’t worry about me.” Isaac told you and you had to laugh, “Sorry, babe but I will not be taking my eyes off you until this town becomes normal.”

Isaac’s face was then taken over by, what could only be described as, a Cheshire Cat smile, “Did you just call me babe?” His voice was teasing and you felt your face heating up despite your freezing temperature.

Sucking on the inside of your cheek you tried your best to conceal your growing smile, you shrugged innocently, “Yeah. What about it?” The playful lilt in your voice had his smile widening even more as he began to lean down to you, his face getting closer to yours by the second.

His breath fanned across your lips when he spoke next, “I liked it.” With that, his lips pressed to yours cautiously, as if he was still unsure of whether or not it was okay to do so.

His uncertainty melted away when he felt your lips begin to reciprocate his actions and your hands moved to cup his cheeks.

The both of you could agree that this kiss was different than the last one you’d shared a few weeks ago. “Why is it that we only ever kiss when one of us is coming out as a supernatural creature?” Isaac laughed against your lips as you pulled away with a sigh.

“It would be us wouldn’t it.”

After a few minutes of nagging at Isaac you managed to put all the pieces of Derek’s plan together. Isaac himself didn’t actually know all that much, just that he was the first to be turned, but that alone told you everything that you needed to know.

Derek was now an alpha with no pack, so logically, a pack was what he was building and that would have been perfectly understandable- if he hadn’t started with your best friend.

“There’s a full moon coming up, did he tell you what would happen?” You questioned gently, ready to throttle Derek when the boy in front of you shook his head.

Heaving a deep breath you squeezed his hand reassuringly, the initial excitement of being turned had worn off and Isaac was beginning to radiate anxiety once again.

“Don’t worry okay? I’m gonna call Scott, he’ll be able to help you.” Isaac’s eyebrows came together in confusion, “Scott McCall?”

You nodded your head, “He’ll know how to help.” You tried to convince Isaac without spilling Scott’s secret. Not that it was going to stay a secret for too long, but it wasn’t your secret to tell.

Isaac shook his head rapidly, his hands moving to hold your forearms, his panic at your suggestion hitting you like a freight train as he stared into your eyes, a wild look in his own.

“No no no no. You can’t tell anyone. (Y/n) promise me you won’t tell anyone okay? If my dad finds out I’m a werewolf he’ll-“ The words came out almost as fast as you could run and his panic only intensified when his father entered his mind.

Quickly catching on to his looming panic attack as his eyes began to glow yellow you cut him off, “Isaac.”

He didn’t hear you as he kept rambling, claws growing past his nails and digging into your arm, “No he’ll kill me. Oh my god he’s gonna kill me. (Y/n) he’s go-“

Yes, it would’ve been easy to rip your arms from his grasp that was causing you quite a lot of pain as his nails sunk into your skin as his hands held onto you desperately. However, you had a feeling that his hold on your now bloody forearms was the only thing keeping him from spiralling completely out of control.

“Isaac! Look at me!” Your voice was strict but served to make his amber eyes finally settle on yours.

Gently, you finally slipped your arms out of Isaac’s clawed grip, although you were sure it would’ve been less painful to just leave them, his claws dragged down your arms while you lifted them slowly and cautiously until you replaced them with your hands, using your new grasp of the boy to provide him with some peace of mind.

You focused your energy on shifting a sense of relaxation from your own palms to Isaac’s sweaty ones as you spoke, voice soft again, “I’m not going to tell anyone. It’s just you and me, alright? Focus on me, yeah?” Isaac nodded his head, still slightly frantic but calmer than before as he did as you told and simply focused on you, “Take a deep breath.” You instructed, breathing steadily along with him until his eyes returned to their natural blue colour and his claws retracted.

A moment of silence passed with Isaac slumped against you, hands held tightly in his while he steadied his breathing. You placed your lips to his cheek and then again to the bruise forming beneath his right eye, you hadn’t noticed it earlier. You’d almost forgotten it’d been nearly three weeks since you’d been together, he’d probably been though it with his demon of a sperm doner over the time you were away.

“I’ve missed you.” It was Isaac that broke the silence when your lips disconnected from his injured face.

“I missed you too.” You replied simply, there was so much you’d planned on saying to him while you were in Mystic Falls but at the moment, you felt there were more pressing matters to discuss and again, it was Isaac who spoke.

He pulled away slightly to look at you properly, hands still clasping yours, he gave them a squeeze before he started speaking, “This pack that Derek’s building… I’m guessing you’re not in it?”

“I was never asked. But I’ve kind of already got a pack, which you are more than welcome to join.” You responded hopefully, wishing he’d agree but you knew he wouldn’t. As such a fresh beta he’d stay loyal to his alpha, but, you had to ask.

Isaac nodded his head sadly, “Scott McCall?” You let out a small laugh, at how quickly he’d caught on, “Yeah. He’s not exactly an alpha but he’s helped me out a lot, more than Derek has.”

“Derek told me that wolves are stronger as a pack, he didn’t say anything about vampires though.” Isaac went on, a confused lilt in his voice.

“I found out in Mystic Falls that vampires rarely belong to packs and by vampire nature I don’t need one, but Ric figures that it’s in my nature to want one since it’s all I’ve ever known.” You relayed the information to Isaac.

“Then why not, you know, join mine?” His lip was pulled between his teeth and he was looking at you with a hopeful expression.

“Isaac I just told you…” You said pleadingly, you didn’t want to upset him any further but you also couldn’t throw away the pack bond you’d built with Scott and Stiles when you’d first turned. If it was a matter of Isaac’s pack being made up of just Isaac there would’ve been no problems, it was the fact that it wasn’t Isaac’s pack but Derek’s.

Scratching what you’d decided about Derek earlier, you came to a new agreement with yourself: all of hell would freeze over before you even thought of easing up on Derek Hale.

Isaac threw his head back with a groan, “Come on, (N/n)! We are not going to let our love play out like Romeo and Juliet!” The way he spoke was humorous but it was obvious that he wasn’t really joking.

With a sigh you moved your shaking hands, that were now covered in scabbed over cuts as opposed to their previous status of raw and bleeding, to Isaac’s face. Your thumbs moved gently along his cheek bones as you took him in with an encouraging smile on your face as you told him confidently, “I refuse to let us become a modern day Romeo and Juliet, that’s not happening.”

You pulled him closer to you, slipping your arms around his shoulders and doing your best to ignore the butterflies rioting in your stomach when his arms wrapped tentatively around your waist.

You brought your lips to meet his briefly before fixing him with another determined look, “But listen to me, we might be loyal to different packs but I’m on your side, no matter what.”

Isaac nodded his head in understanding, “If it comes down to it, I’m always gonna choose you.” He responded honestly, arms tightening around you to hold you against his chest, his height causing his chin to be tilted downwards so that he could meet your eyes.

“I meant what I said to Derek, by the way.” You informed, Isaac’s eyebrows rose in confusion again, “If he mistreats you I’ll tear him apart.”

“Should I give Scott the same warning?” Isaac asked humorously and you had to shake your head in order to hold back a laugh.

It wasn’t until you’d separated from your embrace with Isaac that you took into account the fact that your body was now shaking with the cold.

“Come on, I’ve gotta call my dad and probably the sheriff and you’re freezing.” Isaac stated, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and leading you back to the cemetery where you noticed his overturned excavator and the dug up grave plot.

You listened with curiosity while Isaac spoke to his father on the phone, trying to explain exactly what had transpired in the last couple of hours since his shift started.

“How the hell does an excavator just flip over, Isaac?” You could hear his fathers anger through the line and Isaac fumbled for a response, “Someone, or something- I don’t know it could’ve been an animal, but it got pushed from the side and tipped over. I fell into the plot I was digging and that was it, I didn’t see the rest.” He explained weakly.

“You still stuck in hole, you idiot?” You watched as Isaac clenched his jaw and motioned to yourself when he was finally looking at you, “No. No, um, (Y/n) just got back from Virgina, she came looking for me and helped me out.”

“She still there?” His father questioned, seemingly cooling off at the mention of your name. You hated how much that man seemed to like you when he should’ve held that affection for his actual son.

“Yeah, she’s with me now.” Isaac confirmed and you offered up a fake cheerful, “Hi, Mr Lahey!”

“Invite her over while I call the sheriff and see about getting this mess cleaned up.” With that, he hung up the phone and Isaac sighed, “You’re starting to look like Mr. Freeze, let’s get you warmed up.” His arm stayed comfortably wrapped around your shoulder and as you reached up to hold his hand that was hanging over your shoulder you stopped dead in your tracks, “Isaac, I can’t go and greet your father looking like this.”

You motioned to your torn and bloodstained hoodie, immediately regretting it when his eyes widened in shock, “Did I… oh god (Y/n) did I do that?”

Not missing a beat you grabbed his hands and made sure you soothed his panic before you got a rerun of earlier.

“It’s not your fault. You’re new to this, okay? Mistakes happen and that’s fine it’s all part of the process. And look!-” You pulled off the hoodie to reveal your now completely healed arms and hands, nothing but dried blood to show that the claw marks were even there in the first place. “‘M all healed up! No harm done.” You reassured him, bringing his lips to yours to further convince him that you were okay and distract him from the guilt you could feel building within him.

Your arms, although no longer cut, were covered in goosebumps as Isaac ran his hands affectionately down the length of them. “It won’t happen again.” He promised and you gave him a shaky smile, teeth beginning to chatter, “Let’s go home?” Isaac nodded his head, nothing short of ripping his own hoodie off before pulling your arms through the sleeves and moving himself in front of you to zip it up.

You watched completely content as he fumbled with the zipper. His curls were falling in front of his eyes and his eyes were squinted in concentration. The quiet, but triumphant, “got it” he let out when he finally finessed the zipper had you grinning like a fool.

When he moved his focus from the zip and back to your face, he smiled bashfully, “What’re you looking at me like that for?”

The sleeves of his hoodie, that was miles too big for you, hung far past your wrists and brushed against the nape of his neck, your fingers finding a place tangled in his hair while you stared at him, grin ever present.

Your other hand was otherwise occupied being placed firmly against Isaac’s chest, enjoying the feeling of his rapidly beating heart, and you didn’t know it entirely. But in that moment it was beating for you and you alone.

Isaac’s hand made itself comfortable holding your waist, the other holding your own against his chest, keeping it in place.

Neither of you needed to say it. You could both feel it. But still, you found yourself uttering the words, “I love you.”

Not half a second had passed before Isaac echoed your declaration, “I love you.”

“I feel like if I kiss you right now I won’t be able to stop but I’m still freezing my ass off so… your place?”

Isaac nodded his head in agreement, “My place.”

*

Upon arrival at the Lahey residence, Mr. Lahey had greeted you with a wide smile and ushered you into the kitchen where he instructed Isaac to make you some tea, to which Isaac had to restrain a grumble as he’d been planning on doing it anyway.

Mr. Lahey was happily chatting away to you when Isaac set down two cups of tea, one in front of his father and one in front of you, his eyes lingering on you with a certain kind of glint before he turned back to the counter to grab his own cup and returning to sit beside you at the table.

Isaac was, in all honesty, losing it. He didn’t even know why. You were just sitting there, wrapped up in his hoodie, nose ever so slightly pink from the cold, talking politely to his father. It was nothing out of the ordinary but he was finding it hard to think about anything other than how his hoodie would look splayed on the floor of his bedroom.

He wasn’t very good at hiding it either, you could feel it as clear as day. Teenage boy hormones mixing with teenage werewolf hormones were causing havoc and it’d be a lie to say it wasn’t having an affect on you.

Trying to return your attention to whatever Mr.Lahey was babbling about you clearing your throat and took a sip of your tea, keeping your expression neutral as Isaac’s hand slipped to your knee under the table. His attempt to pull you into his mess of hormones was obviously successful as you found yourself ready to yell out in frustration when his hand stayed put on your knee for a solid twenty minutes before his father finally rose from the table.

“I’m going to check out the situation at the cemetery, you’re welcome to stay tonight, it’s pretty dangerous out there these days.” Mr. Lahey offered and you smiled innocently at him as he stood in the doorway, “I think I’ll take you up on that. Thank you.” The older man gave you a nod but said no more before walking out the front door.

“What the hell are you doing?” You finally burst when the front door clicked shut, whipping around to face Isaac.

“What?” He asked as if his hand didn’t start sliding further up your leg the second his father left the room.

You groaned, “Don’t ‘what?’ me when you’re about four centimetres from having your hand between my thighs!”

“Sorry.” He immediately retracted his hand, eyes wide as he realised how close his hand was to reaching the top of your thigh, “I, um, I didn’t mean to- I mean, I did mean to but i won’t do it again if you don’t want me to-“

“Isaac.” You cut him off, lip pulled between your teeth, “I want you to.” You declared and he let out a heavy sigh full of relief, “Thank God.” He muttered before he was pulling you up off the chair and right against his chest.

His lips immediately found yours and his hands were gripping your waist like there was no tomorrow.

At this point, the butterflies in your stomach were going absolutely bat shit feral when his lips began to trail past your lips, to your chin, then to the curve of your jaw. It was when his hand slipped deftly up your side to settle against your jaw that you realised just how much you’d been wanting this.

Isaac’s lips fell further to your neck and you couldn’t stop the hum of approval that escaped your mouth at the sensation of his soft lips sucking and licking at your pulse. “It this okay?” He asked in a mutter, the dainty and nervous nature of his voice contrasting greatly with the confidence and ferocity of his actions.

Your hands tugged gently at his hair to get him to meet you clouded eyes, when he looked at you you were sure that his eyes had flashed yellow, his breathing was getting heavy and you had an inkling that his lips on your neck was the most exciting thing that was going to happen between you tonight.

“It’s more than okay.” You told him with a dopey smile, letting out a laugh when he dived back into the crook of your neck, kissing your skin through a smile.

Despite your words your hands moved to his chest to push him away slightly, “But…” you started as Isaac threw his head back with a groan, “I think we should stop, and maybe revisit this after the full moon passes.”

After taking in a steadying breath Isaac nodded in agreement, “Yeah, you’re probably right.” His hand slipped into yours and he intertwined his fingers with yours, he spent a moment just looking at your linked hands with a fond smile and the look of achievement on his face. It was easy to tell, with the help of your empathic powers, that Isaac was proud of himself.

You yourself couldn’t quite pinpoint why he was feeling so prideful in the moment, but he knew. To be truthful he wasn’t just proud of himself, he was downright ecstatic. He’d been nothing more than your best friend since you were both eleven, and now, six years later he finally crossed the threshold from being your best friend to being your- well actually now that he thought about it, he wasn’t sure what he is to you now.

A few hours passed before Isaac worked up the courage to ask the question that had formed in his mind after his make out session with you earlier.

The pair of you had since gotten comfortable in his bed, which was nothing particularly new. You laid on your side with your back to the bedroom door, Isaac was behind you, his chin tucked in between your shoulder and your neck with his arms around your torso holding you close to him.

“Can I ask you something?” His voice broke through the silence and you responded with a tired hum, adjusting his arm so you could snuggle closer and tried your best to stop yourself from falling asleep while he murmured softly in your ear.

“What are we?” He kept his eyes trained on the dark room ahead of him, his hand grabbing yours as you readjusted his arm and he absentmindedly began playing with your fingers, the action being successful in calming his nerves.

“What do you want us to be?” You asked sleepily in response, a small smile forming on your face as you heard his heartbeat speeding up.

Isaac let out a nervous breath against your neck and you held back a shudder at the feeling, “I was kind of thinking that all the kissing would make us a couple.” Letting out another sleepy hum, if it was even physically possible, you snuggled deeper into his hold. You sluggishly turned your head to place a light kiss against his cheek, “Then we’re a couple.”

[rigmarolling]

Historical Holiday Traditions We Really Need To Bring Back

Here comes Santa Claus, and also a bunch of annual holiday Things we do to ensure he commits a truly boggling act of breaking and entering and leaves goods underneath the large plant in the living room.

Because I’ve always got a hankerin’ for the days of yore, here are some historical holiday traditions we really need to bring back:

1. Everything that happened on Saturnalia

Saturnalia was the ancient Roman winter festival held on December 25th--which is why we celebrate Christmas on that day and not on the day historians speculate Jesus was actually born, which was probably in the spring. 

Saturnalia was bonkers. As the name suggests, it celebrated the god Saturn, who represented wealth and liberty and generally having a great time.

Above: Their party is way cooler than yours could ever hope to be.

During Saturnalia, masters would serve their slaves, because it was the one day during the year when everybody agreed that freedom for all is great, actually, let’s just do that. Everyone wore a coned hat called the pilleus to denote that they were all bros and equal, and also to disguise the fact that they hadn’t brushed their hair after partying hard all week, probably.

Gambling was allowed on Saturnalia, so all of Rome basically turned into ancient Vegas, complete with Caesar’s Palace, except with the actual Caesar and his palace because he was, you know. Alive. 

The most famous part (besides getting drunk off your rocker) was gift-giving--usually gag gifts. Historians have records of people giving each other some truly impressive white elephant gifts for Saturnalia, including: a parrot, balls, toothpicks, a pig, one single sausage, spoons, and deliberately awful books of poetry. 

Above: Me, except all the time.

Partygoers also crowned a King of Saturnalia, which was a predecessor to the King of Fools popular in medieval festivals. The king was basically the head idiot who delivered absurd commands to everyone there, like, “Sing naked!” or “run around screaming for an hour,” or “slap your butt cheeks real hard in front of your crush; DO IT, Brutus.”

Oh, wait. Everyone was already doing all that. Hell yes.

(Quick clarification: early celebrations of Saturnalia did feature human sacrifice, so let’s just leave that bit out and instead wear the pointy hats and sing naked, okay? Io Saturnalia, everybody.)

2. Leaving out treats for Sleipnir in the hopes of avoiding Odin’s complete disregard for your property

The whole “leave out cookies and milk for Santa” thing comes from a much older tradition of trying to appease old guys with white beards. In Norse mythology, Odin, who was sort of the head god but preferred to be on a perpetual road trip instead, took an annual nighttime ride through the winter sky called the Wild Hunt. 

Above: The holidays, now with 300% more heavy metal.

Variations of the Wild Hunt story exist in a bunch of European folklore--in Odin’s case, he usually brought along a bunch of supernatural buddies, like spirits and other gods and Valkyries and ghost dogs, who, the Vikings said, you could hear howling and barking as the group approached (GOOD DOGGOS).

That was the thing, though; you never actually saw Odin’s hunt--you only heard it. And hearing it did not spark the same sense of childish glee you felt when you thought you heard Santa’s sleigh bells approaching as a kid--instead, the Vikings said, you should be afraid. Be VERY afraid.

Because Odin could be kind of a dick.

Odin was also known as the Allfather, and like any father, he hated asking for directions. GPS who? I’m the Allfather, I’m riding the same way I always ride.

And that was pretty much it: “I took this road last year and I’m taking it again this year.”

“But,” someone would pipe up from the back, “there are houses on the road now--we’re gonna run right into them. We could just take a different path; there’s actually a detour off the--”

“Nope,” Odin would say. “They know the rules. My road, my hunt, my rules. We’re going this way.”

So if you were unlucky enough to have built your house along one of Odin’s favorite road trip sky-ways, he wouldn’t just plow right past you.

He would burn your entire house down--and your family along with it.

Kids playing in the yard? Torch ‘em; they should have known better. Grandma knitting while she waits for her gingerbread Einherjar to finish baking? Sucks to be her; my road, my rules, my beard, I’m the Allfather, bitch.

Above: Santa, but so much worse.

To be fair to Odin, he could be a cool guy sometimes. He just turned into any dad when he was on a road trip and wanted to MAKE GOOD TIME, DAMN IT, I AM NOT STOPPING; YOU SHOULD HAVE PEED BEFORE WE LEFT.

To ensure they didn’t incur Odin’s road trip wrath, the Vikings had a few ways of smoothing things over with Dad.

They would leave Odin offerings on the road, like pieces of steel (??? okay ???) or bread for his dogs, or food for his giant, eight-legged horse, Sleipnir, because the only true way to a man’s heart is through his pet. 

People would generally leave veggies and oats and other horse-y things out for Sleipnir, whose eight legs made him the fastest flying horse in the world and also made him the only horse to ever win Asgard’s coveted tap dancing championship. 

(Side note: EIGHT legs...EIGHT tiny reindeer...eh? Eh? See how we got here? Thanks, nightmare horse!)

Above: An excellent prancer AND dancer. 

And if Odin was feeling particularly charitable and not in the mood for horrific acts of arson, children would also leave their shoes out for him--it was said that he’d put gifts in your boots to ring in a happy new year.

If all that didn’t work and the Vikings heard the hunt approaching, they would resort to throwing themselves on the ground and covering their heads while the massive party sped above them like a giant Halloween rager. 

So this holiday season, leave your boots out for Odin and some carrots out for his giant spider horse or you and your entire family will die in a fiery inferno, the end.

3. Yule Logs

Speaking of Scandinavia, another Northern European winter solstice tradition was the yule log. Today, if you google “yule log,” something like this will pop up:

...which isn’t an actual log, but is instead log-shaped food that you shove into your mouth along with 500 other cakes at the same time because it’s CHRISTMAS, and I’m having ME TIME; so WHAT if I ate the whole jar of Nutella by myself, alone, in the dark at 3 am?

But that log cake is actually inspired by actual logs of yore that Celtic, Germanic, and Scandinavian peoples decorated with fragrant plants like holly, ivy, pinecones, and other Stuff That Smells Nice before tossing the log into the fire.

This served a few purposes: 

It smelled nice, and Bath and Body Works scented candles hadn’t been invented yet.

It had religious and/or spiritual significance as a way to mark the winter solstice.

It was a symbolic way of ringing in the new year and kicking out the old.

Common belief held that the ashes of a yule log could ward off lightning strikes and bad energy.

Winter cold. Fire warm.

Everybody loves to watch things burn. (See: Odin.)

The yule log cakes we eat today got their start in 19th century Paris, when bakers thought it was a cute idea to resurrect an ancient pagan tradition in the form of a delicious dessert, and boy, howdy, were they right.

In any case, I’m 100% down with eating a chocolate yule log while burning an actual yule log in my backyard because everybody loves to watch things burn; winter cold, fire warm; and hnnnngggg pine tree smell hnnnnggg.

(Quick note:  The word “yule” is  the name of a traditional pagan winter festival, still celebrated culturally or religiously in modern pagan practice. It’s also another name for Odin. He had a bunch of other names, one of the most well-known being jólfaðr, which is Old Norse for “Yule father.” If you would like to royally piss him off, or if you are Loki, feel free to call him “Yule Daddy.”)

4. Upside down Christmas trees

I just found out that apparently, upside down Christmas trees are a hot new trend with HGTV types this year, so I guess this is one historical trend we did bring back, meaning it doesn’t really belong on this list, but I’m gonna talk about it, anyway.

Side note: Oh, my god, that BANNISTER. I NEED.

Historians aren’t actually sure where the inverted Christmas tree thing came from, but we know people were bringing home trees and then hanging them upside down in the living room as early as the 7th century. We have a couple theories as to why people turned trees on their heads:

Logistically, it’s way easier to hang a giant pine tree from your rafters upside down by its trunk and roots. You just hoist that baby up there, wind some rope around the rafter and the trunk, and boom. Start decorating.

A Christian tradition says that one day in the 7th century, a Benedictine monk named Saint Boniface stumbled across a group of pagans worshipping an oak tree. So, instead of minding his own damn business, he cut the tree down and replaced it with a fir tree. While the pagans were like, “Dude, what the hell?” Boniface used the triangular shape of the fir tree to explain the concept of the holy trinity to the pagans. Some versions have him planting it right-side up, others having him displaying a fir tree upside down. Either way, it’s still a triangle that’s a solid but ultimately very rude way of explaining God. Word’s still out on whether anyone was converted or just rightly pissed off that this random guy strolled into their place of worship, chopped down their sacred tree, and plopped HIS tree down instead. Please do not do that this holiday season.

Eastern Europeans lay claim to the upside-down tree phenomenon with a tradition called podłazniczek in Poland--people hung the tree from the ceiling and decorated it with fruits and nuts and seeds and ribbons and other festive doodads. 

(God, who lives in these houses? Look at that. That’s like a swanky version of Gaston’s hunting lodge. Where do I get one? Which enchanted castle do I have to stumble into to chill out in a Christmas living room like that?)

Today, at least in the West, upside-down trees are making a comeback because...I don’t know. Chip and Joanna Gaines said so. 

Some folks say it’s a surefire way to keep your cats from clawing their way through the tree and then puking up fir needles for weeks afterward, which checks out for me.

5. Incredibly weird Victorian Christmas cards

So back in the 19th century, the Christmas card industry was really getting fired up. Victorians loved their mail, let me tell you. They loved sending it. They loved getting it. They loved writing it. They loved opening it. They loved those sexy wax seals you use to keep all that sweet, sweet mail inside that sizzling envelope. (Those things are incredibly sexy. Have you ever made a wax seal? Oh, man, it’s hot.)

The problem, though, was that while the Victorians arguably helped standardize many of the holiday traditions we know and love today (Christmas trees, caroling, Dickens everything, spending too much money, etc.) back in 1800-whenever, a lot of that Christmas symbolism was, um...still under construction. No one had really agreed on which visual holiday cues worked and which...didn’t.

Meaning everyone just kind of made up their own holiday symbols. Which resulted in monstrous aberrations like this card:

What the hell is that? A beet? Is that a beet? Or a turnip? Why is it...oh, God, why does it have a man’s head? Why does the man beet have insect claws? 

What is it that he’s holding? A cookie? Cardboard? A terra cotta planter?

And then there’s this one:

“A Merry Christmas to you,” it says, while depicting a brutal frog murder/mugging. 

What are you trying to tell me? Are you threatening me with this card? Is that it? Is this a threat? How the hell am I supposed to interpret this? “Merry Christmas, hide your money or you’re dead, you stupid bitch.”

Also, why is the dead frog naked? Did the other frog steal his clothes after the murder? WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THIS?

Victorian holiday cards also doubled as early absurdist Internet memes, apparently, because how else do I explain this?

Is this some sort of tiny animal Santa? A mouse riding a lobster? Like, the mouse, I get. Mice are fine. Disney built an empire on a mouse. And look, he’s got a little list of things he’s presumably going to bring you: Peace, joy, health, happiness. (In French. Oh, wait, is that that Patton Oswalt rat?)

But a LOBSTER? What’s with the lobster? It’s basically a sea scorpion. Why in the name of all that is good and holy would you saddle up a LOBSTER? I hate it. I hate it so, so much. Just scurrying around the floor with more legs than are strictly necessary, smelling like the seafood section of Smith’s, snapping its giant claws.

This whole card is a health inspector’s worst nightmare. It really is.

I gotta say, though, I am a fan of this one:

Presumably, that polar bear is going in for a hug because nothing stamps out a polar bear’s innate desire to rip your face from your skull than candy canes and Coke and Christmas spirit.

This next one is actually fantastic, but for all the wrong reasons:

I know everyone overuses “same” these days but geez, LOOK at that kid. I can HEAR it. SAME.

If you’ve ever been in a shopping mall stuffed with kids, nothing sums it up better than this card. This is like the perverse version of those Anne Geddes portraits that were everywhere in the late 90s. “Make wee Jacob sit in the tea pot; everyone will--Jacob, STOP, look at Mommy; I said LOOK. AT. MOMMY--everyone will love it.”

Actually, you know what? Every other Christmas card is cancelled. This is the only card we will be using from now on. This is it. 

Wait, no. We can also use this one:

Merry Christmas. Here’s a fuckin’...just a dead fuckin’ bird.

[flowerflamestars]

Nesta Under the Mountain part 3: acomaf, the later half

So while some extremely painful flirting is happening, so is plot. Azriel periodically disappears to try to infiltrate the Queens palace. Morrigan splits her time between Velaris and trying to keep Keir remotely in line. Amren and Lucien teach Nesta how to use magic, Cassian readies the legions for war.

So Nesta, unlike Feyre, has multiple sources for her most important questions: What the hell is Hybern doing? Trying to build an empire of old. Reaching for glory that isn’t there, because Prythian is wealthy.

Why Amarantha? Why was she so powerful?

It’s Rhysand who answers her, one day when they’re alone. He’s drinking on the roof- Nesta is inclined to make a comment about lordly behavior but doesn’t because she knows, she knows, from the look in his eyes, that he’s going to answer for real.

Amarantha liked to talk in bed. And Rhysand had, eventually, put the pieces together: Amarantha was the invading force alone, because Amarantha needed to earn Hyberns favor.

What did Hybern have? A kingdom crippled without its slaves. A King who’d ruled so long the world forgot his name. No heir, no other ruler. No son, only daughters.

Amarantha sought to earn her place in succession- with her father’s stolen magical secrets and a taste for vengeance.

Nesta accepts this, and has a drink.

There’s an interim of weeks, while Amren relearns a dead language and Azriel tries his last, worst plans. Nesta is so ready to tear out of her skin- Morrigan succeeds in getting Nesta to go out with her.

Morrigan pulls her over cobblestones to Ritas, and Nesta absolutely doesn’t tell her Lucien had found the place on his first city walkabout and been toasting their bitter victories there every one since.

Cassian, as he tends to wherever Nesta is, appears. They haven’t spoken since she came back with the book. Lucien trickles in with glitter in his hair, Azriel silent, offensively handsome drawing the light by his side.

And Morrigan watches. Cassian will spend the night quietly pressing fresh drinks into Nesta’s hand and glaring like absolute murder at any stranger who tries to get near. She sees how Cassian, her friend for five centuries, is contextualizing this: service, gladly rendered.

Understands he will make it small in his head and it means the opposite- the very opposite- that Nesta is letting him do either of those things for her. That she trusts him, to be near at all.

Morrigan and Nesta have a very different talk afterward than her and Feyre would have. Mor thinks it might be a good idea to make it really clear she herself doesn’t ever want Cassian, in case, that too, is standing in the way.

(Nesta also just...so clearly doesn’t have a single negative thought about Lucien doing...whatever Lucien does. They’ll get insouciant and mean and discuss the attractiveness of anyone. Nesta, unlike Feyre, reacts to queerness without even blinking)

So Mor and Nesta might not enjoy each other, exactly, but they respect one another. When Rhysand poses his insane Nesta you were mortal, let’s meet the Queens on mortal land plan, Morrigan, more than anyone, is the one who listens when Nesta explains that the Queens hate faeries.

Hate magic. Hate, even, it seems, the mortals that live along the wall for existing in proximity to Prythian.

It’s like letting go of a dream- for the chance of something real. Five centuries have passed, and that’s not much for Mor, but it’s everything, to mortals. Their bright lives are so quick, so valuable in an eyeblink- and that’s why Nesta’s here at all.

A mortal heart.

Azriel and Nesta team up- she scoffs that infiltration has fails, laughs outright at the idea she should be a diplomat, and proposes something else. They veritable army of spies, why are none of them mortal? Hundreds of humans work in Court of Queens. Voiceless, unrecognized. None of the magical protections would stop them.

So instead of Keir, or the Veritas, or her sisters- we bring back the lady mercenary. We bring in a whole bunch of lady mercenaries. A new network of information, passed from overlooked woman to overlooked woman, carried in shadows, all the way back to the Court of Night.

There’s no meeting. Because Hybern is already there. 

And Nesta thinks its the most insane thing she’s ever heard- they want to live forever?

Morrigan tries to comfort her, Lucien tries to stop Morrigan, because he knows- Nesta doesn’t regret. And she tells them all that, looking over the war map, each grim face and strange shred of sympathy. 

Nesta says, I know I’m a monster and I’m glad of it. I will never belong to just one Court, never go home. I cannot, because that life was taken from me and I am glad, because it will take a monster to protect the humans from other monsters. 

And Rhysand says, oh so very quietly: You can belong. 

But it’s lost, completely, in two things- the way Lucien has stepped around Azriel to let Nesta, not lean- Nesta, sober, leans on absolutely no one- but to be there, close, in her orbit, and Cassian standing up. 

It’s the Queens Meeting promise, dark chocolate version. Cassian wipes away that one tear on her perfect face. Says to her and her alone like no one else is there, that he’d done monstrous things his entire life in the name of what was right. But he’d become something worse, unleash a whole ocean of blood, to protect the innocents who needed it. Die a monster, in defense of those mortals with her.

And Nesta just looks at him. Like she can see all the way through to his aching soul, and nods. 

One commander to another. Absolute, perfect, understanding.

So what happens, if the mcguffin of the book cannot work?

Nesta says, like Cassian isn’t still staring at her, like she isn’t leaning into Lucien’s bodyheat like a refuge- the book is to control the Cauldron, but why can’t we just go after the Cauldron?

Steal it? Break it? Use it ourselves.

No ones answers particularly satisfy her- they can winnow. They can move unseen. There’s more power in this room than whole kingdoms possess, why the hell can’t they just break in, touch the Cauldron, and winnow away?

Cassian says it’s suicide. The castle is a deathtrap. Guards, wards, magic.

And, Rhysand adds, the Cauldron might not play along. It’s too powerful, too old to just treat like an object. The Cauldron itself could resist.

They’re all piling out of the townhouse, after the unsuccessful meeting, when Lucien goes white. Freezes.

And Nesta knows.

Knows that despite every precaution, the words that have never, ever escaped her lips in Prythian. Despite Tamlin dead- someone, somehow, found out that Prythian’s vengeance has two vulnerable, mortal sisters.

Nesta is grabbing onto Lucien to winnow away before anyone can ask what is wrong. Because something is wrong, so, so wrong- at the last second, Cassian snatches her hand, and ends up dragged along.

The Archeron estate is on fire.

There’s no time to ask- no time to talk. Cassian starts killing Hybernian soldiers left and right, no one here that can actually stop him.

Nesta runs straight into the fire, Lucien on her heels, keeping the flames away. Not that he needs to- Nesta is shimmering with power, every Court’s strength right on the surface, teeming to be used. She kills six men before she finds Elain, kicking and screaming in a soldiers arms. 

That soldier loses his head- that man, Lucien turns to ash.

It’s Cassian who finds Feyre, hidden in the kitchen, standing on top of table having just dumped a small ocean on lye on her attackers. Despite making short work of the burnt, pissed off faeries, she’s still throwing shit at him when Nesta, screaming her name, is finally close enough to be heard.

Nesta almost stabs Cassian in the back getting to Feyre. Fey jumps off the table, straight at her sister- there’s no pause for thought, no flinch at her faery face and bloody hands, just an armload full of her taller baby sister, an easy weight to carry now.

When they make it out of the collapsing house, Azriel and Rhys are waiting.

It’s Rhys who says, in that tone of voice that makes Nesta want to beat him to death, the voice that insists, I understand, who says, you have a family?

Nesta doesn’t answer. Nesta doesn’t say a goddamn word to anyone at all except for Feyre and Elain as they take them back to Velaris. As she settles them in the roaring warmth of one of the palatial sitting rooms, wraps them in blankets. Conveys, solely with a head jerk and a glare, that Cassian should make himself useful and provide hot beverages.

Nesta doesn’t say anything until the burns are healed by Lucien, her sisters understand where they are, and what has happened.

It’s Feyre who snaps first and bodily pulls Nesta down on the couch between them. Elain who leans hard, shoulder to shoulder, and wipes the blood off Nesta’s face.

They love each other- they still love her, don’t blame her, and that is what makes Nesta’s choice.

She introduces them to Lucien, her friend. To the others without explanation, the odd bedfellows of war Nesta really is starting to like despite herself. Except Rhys. Rhys can fall in the damned ocean. 

It’s a long, long evening, and they all get settled eventually- Feyre, in particular, with a shy smile and an extra mug of Cassian’s hot chocolate. 

Everyone goes their separate ways, and Lucien, quietly, slips off to find Nesta in the dark.

He knows what she’s going to say. Hybern came for her family- Hybern almost killed her sisters. Nesta doesn’t give a fuck about the book, about Rhysand’s alliances, or hangup on the mortal queens- Nesta wants Hybern to pay.

Lucien sometimes looks at his life now- free, safe as he choses, the dark eyed smile of man who fears no part of him- and thinks it’s all because of Nesta Archeron’s heart. Nesta, who believed in loyalty enough to buy his safety. Nesta, who had every reason to hate Spring and still been the only person to look close enough and see, that Lucien was just as trapped.

No one in his life had ever given him that, so easily. No one had cared. 

Nesta didn’t even think about it- he was in her corner and she was in his, friends. Best friends, only friends they had. Lucien would have still chosen her, every time.

Choses her now- Nesta says, I’m going tonight. I’m going alone. I’m not waiting any longer.

And Lucien squeezes her hand, and tells her, not alone.

They winnow to the castle like bone across the sea. 

Lucien might not know why he can break wards, why foul enchantment can’t touch him, but he knows how to use it. How to fight and kill, and does just that. Lucien stands guard, Lucien gets Nesta to the Cauldron.

No Book, no plan, just this- Nesta’s will do what is right.

Two hands on the Cauldron- and Rhysand was right. It won’t move. It won’t be winnowed away, it pulls her in and speaks. 

The story of the Cauldron is the story of a woman. 

Power, power, power- endless potential, utilized to create. A thousand children, a million voices. But then her children grew- into their own power, their own politics and ways. They forgot her voice, that forget she’d made them- and they trapped her. Broke her. Imprisoned her.

Forgot she was not a cauldron- she was their Mother.

But the Mother was also once the Maiden, the Mother always becomes the Crone.

The Crones watches, as the dark night comes, and all life eventually ends.

She’d been imprisoned all over again.

Nesta Archeron, drowning in power, communicates by sheer force of screaming, raging will. 

I was imprisoned, I stolen, I was remade against my will-

I was broken, and all I asked was that my family be safe- all I wanted- I am the child of every Court you made, I am the daughter of your power and i WILL NOT- I will not allow your sons to kill what is ours-

The Cauldron, seething, stills, if only for a moment.

Nesta thinks she’s won. Nesta realizes, too late, that she can smell blood. Lucien, stabbed and scrabbling, Nesta being dragged away from the Cauldron- the King had waited for her.

And how he crooned with joy- Nesta Archeron, the destroyer. Nesta Archeron, Prythian’s vengeance. Nesta Archeron you will be mine, you, you, you, finally, a worthy woman-

It’s a desperate, stupid ploy. Nesta can’t escape, Nesta can’t save Lucien, knows it from the blood dripping off his lips as he mouthes, a goodbye: love you, Archeron. 

Nesta jumps into the Cauldron.

What comes out is not what went in- young as a fawn, old as the seas- Nesta doesn’t have to steal eternity. She’s already eternal, she’s already powerful in her rage-

But the Cauldron, who’d slept so long. Broken in peices, cold, welcomes her fire like the fierce magic of her first children, and gives her a gift. 

Nesta’s no maiden or mother, but the Cauldron is happy to let the Crone out.

Death comes out of those waters, and mists the King of Hybern.

Scoops up her beloved companion, the fire that lights the way, and leaves the castle of the king unraveling behind her.

Nesta brings the Cauldron home. 

The bloody bundle of Lucien is pulled from her arms on the floor of Rhysand’s townhouse, the Cauldron quiet behind them. It’s to Cassian who is frankly patting her down, searching for injuries, that Nesta says:

She wasn’t the only sister, and then passes out.

[bulletballet-arch]

REALLY LONG  CHARACTER  SURVEY. RULES. repost ,   don’t  reblog !    tag 10 ! good  luck ! TAGGED. I took this from Minnie’s archived Bioshock blog. I’ve been looking for this meme all this month. TAGGING. @hammurabicomplex. @bluuxriising. @ Me - for Sal on @bulletsoverbensonhurst​. @immaterialed (charlie) @soypeor (bella) @svmmercmance​. @mrflayed. and you!

BASICS. FULL  NAME :  Eve Delores Littlejohn NICKNAME : Evie, Little Evie (by her maternal side of the family), Delores, Didi NAME  MEANING / S  Eve is from the ancient Hebrew name  חַוָּה (Chawwah), which was derived from the Hebrew word חָוָה (chawah) meaning "to breathe" or the related word חָיָה (chayah) meaning "to live". Delores is a variant of Dolores, meaning "sorrows", taken from the Spanish title of the Virgin Mary María de los Dolores, meaning "Mary of Sorrows." Littlejohn is a surname that has historically been found in England and Scotland. With potential origins being either ‘to distinguish a beloved child that was not the eldest.’ Or, ‘a contradictory nickname for a large man.’ HISTORICAL  CONNECTION? : She’s named after her grandmother, Evelyn Hollins.

AGE : 42 BIRTHDAY :  June 2 ETHNIC  GROUP : Black-American. Meaning she’s mixed with a lot (Some of her relatives are respectively Creole and Italian) but uses Black as a catch-all term. NATIONALITY :  American LANGUAGE / S : English, Italian, Spanish, Latin, some French SEXUAL  ORIENTATION :   Bisexual ROMANTIC  ORIENTATION :  Biromantic RELATIONSHIP  STATUS : Verse dependent, usually married -or connected- to Salvatore Scozzari in some way. CLASS : Upper-Class HOME  TOWN / AREA :   Brooklyn. Spent time between Bedford-Stuyvesant - with her paternal grandfather and Park Slope - with her maternal grandparents.  CURRENT  HOME : In her childhood home in Bedford-Stuyvesant. PROFESSION : Ballet Instructor. Former Professional Ballerina. ( Other verses see her as a professional thief. )

PHYSICAL. HAIR : Black. In terms of her natural hair, Eve has springy, 3C hair she seldom shows off because she was raised in a family where straightened hair was deemed presentable and professional.  EYES : Thin almond eyes. Dark brown. NOSE : Straight and small. FACE :  She has a prominent, high forehead, that’s accented with high cheekbones and a pointy chin. LIPS :  Full. COMPLEXION : She has a light brown (tawny) complexion.  SCARS : None major. TATTOOS : None. HEIGHT : 5′4″ BUILD : Eve has a slender build. One of those people who have been small and petite since childhood. Despite this, she also stays skinny because she is obsessively conscious of the food she consumes. The older she gets the more she weighs, however. USUAL HAIR STYLE :  Her hair is cut short. Reaching her shoulders in a neat, even bob. She either curls it in a retro fashion or curls the tips. For work she wears it in a traditional, pinned bun. USUAL FACE LOOK : In public, she appears stoic for the most part. Any emotion shown (such as the length of a smile) is carefully calculated. She has to seem perfect.  USUAL  CLOTHING : Form fitting dresses. Incredibly chic and fashionable for the time. Shoes include heels - never open-toed, unless she has on stockings. Extravagant earrings. Jewelry that can include either necklaces, crosses, pearls, or dainty rings. Prone to wearing black sunglasses in public.

PSYCHOLOGY. FEAR / S : Thunderstorms, airplanes, creatures like weasels, snakes and ferrets, break-ins, men she doesn’t know, harm coming to her children ASPIRATION / S :  Formerly wanted to become a major [black] ballerina in the elite world of ballet, now she just wants to expose more [inner city children] to dance through her job. Personally, she wants her children to change the world in some form or fashion, too. Eve also has good ideas on improving the community, but at the moment has no idea how to go about these ideas. POSITIVE  TRAITS :  Generous, compassionate, patient, protective NEGATIVE  TRAITS : Strict, sullen, hard to read, represses her emotions, secretive MBTI :  Advocate - INFJ-T ZODIAC :  Cancer TEMPERAMENT :  Melancholic ANIMALS :  Lioness VICE / S :  Pride & Lust FAITH : Christian. Grew up Baptist, but Catholic influences have been around her since childhood. Attended a Catholic High School in Park Slope, her grandmother Evelyn was also a practicing Catholic.  GHOSTS ? : Yes and no. She feels that objects formerly owned by the deceased posses the essence of their previous owners and that they essentially live on through these pieces of property. AFTERLIFE ? : Yes. REINCARNATION ? :  No, but it’s a romantic concept. ALIENS ? : No. POLITICAL  ALIGNMENT :  Democratic ECONOMIC  PREFERENCE :  She likes being where she’s at now. But honestly, being upper class is all she’s ever known. SOCIOPOLITICAL  POSITION : Bourgeoisie, basically. The Littlejohn’s represent The Historical Black Elite.  EDUCATION  LEVEL : College level. FAMILY.

FATHER :  William ‘Bill’ Littlejohn MOTHER : Linda Littlejohn ( nee Hollins ) SIBLINGS : None EXTENDED  FAMILY : Amos Littlejohn (paternal grandfather) Liza Littlejohn (paternal grandmother) Evelyn Hollins (maternal grandmother) Giuseppe D’Aietti (maternal grandfather) and a wide host of cousins, aunts and uncles.

FAVOURITES. BOOK :  Night Song by Beverly Jenkins. The Color Purple by Alice Walker. Some sort of old, French erotic novel that was published before she was born. MOVIE : Eve watches films along the lines of...Waiting to Exhale, Beaches, The First Wives Club and Fatal Attraction. She loves Made-For-TV movies from the time period. In regards to plays, her favorite one is Sunday In The Park With George. 5  SONGS :  Meet Me On The Moon / Essence of Sapphire / No One In The World / People / The First Time I Saw Your Face  DEITY :  Persephone  HOLIDAY : New Years Eve, Christmas, Thanksgiving. Major holidays during the colder season. MONTH :  October SEASON :  Autumn PLACE :  The dance studio she works at. WEATHER : Sunny, but cool. SOUND : The voices of Anita Baker and Sarah Vaughn. A skilled hand running over piano keys. Soft trumpets. Running water. Cats making chipper little meows. SCENT / S :  Perfume, floral scented lotions, her partner’s cologne TASTE / S :  Caramel, the tang of dark chocolate, strawberries coated with either chocolate, or sprinkles of white sugar. Light Vinegar.  FEEL / S : Performing in front of an audience. Hot water engulfing your skin after a long day. Satin - whether it be the fabric of her clothes or sheets, your fingers tightly intertwined with another’s, feeling your significant other’s chest raise and lower against your skin with each breath they take. ANIMAL / S : Cocker Spaniels, Afghan Hounds, Cats, Birds - she loves all ( well, a majority ) of animals. NUMBER :  Doesn’t have one. COLOR :  White, Pink, Gold.

EXTRA. TALENTS :  Dance, Eve is trained in ballet when it comes to her main verse. She has attended ballet classes since the age of eight and ever since then she placed all of her focus into it. Similarly, Eve has always had the makings of a good artist - as a child she enjoyed drawing and had informal art lessons with a man who lived in the basement of her grandfather’s brownstone, but she never invested into that half of her. BAD AT : Singing, Being interviewed, Public Speaking (as in Speech Giving), Decision Making TURN  ONS :  Charisma, Leadership Skills, Temperature Play, Phone Sex, Heavy Kissing, Light Roleplay TURN  OFFS :  Public Sex, Tearing [ Her ] Clothes, Threesomes, Cruelty, Senseless Violence HOBBIES :  viewing plays & some musicals, reading romance novels, shopping, working out (she was into the whole celebrity VHS tape exercise trend), playing tennis, decorating AESTHETIC :  Vintage Black Glamour, Black Ballerinas, Champagne and Wine Glasses, Paintings by Melinda Byers and Edward 'Clay' Wright QUOTES :  "I'm bad with words, I hope you're good in reading eyes." / "There are truths I haven't even told God. And not even myself. I am a secret under the lock of seven keys."

FC INFO. MAIN  FC / S : Lynn Whitfield ( A Thin Line Between Love & Hate ) ALT  FC / S : Kylie Bunbury ( Twisted ) OLDER  FC / S :  Lynn Whitfield ( Greenleaf ) YOUNGER  FC / S : N/A VOICE  CLAIM / S : Lynn Whitfield

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1 :   if  you  could  write  your  character  your  way  in  their  own  movie ,   what  would  it  be  called ,  what  style  would  it  be  filmed  in ,  and  what  would  it  be  about ?       A1 : Recently I decided that if/when I try to write anything serious about Eve again, it’ll center on her being a jewel thief because it presents me more fun, and emotionally diverse, opportunities. That and I have a very specific cover image in my mind. Ideally, her adventures would be a series of books. I have no title in mind, no idea about how ‘it would be filmed’ ( although a style replicating 90s films would be excellent, film grain and all. ) but, I do have a bunch of plots in mind that I really don’t feel like typing out here.  

Q2 :   what  would  their  soundtrack / score  sound  like ?         A2 :  Her score would have a vintage sound (or a jazzy Spike Lee sound, if you will) with instrumentals by Dorothy Ashby (a Jazz Harpist) the Ahmad Jamal Trio, Pharaoh Sanders, Yusef Lateef and Tarika Blue. For music with lyrics, the soundtrack would include the likes of Julie London, Sarah Vaughn, Ella Fitzgerald, and Dionne Warwick.

Q3 :   why  did  you  start  writing  this  character ?   + Q4 :   what  first  attracted  you  to  this  character ? A3 :  Whenever I make NPCs for my character’s lives I actually can’t just let them just be NPCs. I start thinking about them too much. Developing them too much. And then I’m like, ‘wow! I really like this character!’ Eve was a different character when I began writing her, and likely wouldn’t be considered the same character as she was previously, if I told someone in real life who knows about my writing (like my grandma) about all the changes she has undergone. Originally Delores was a university professor, because I thought it could lead to interesting interactions with college-age muses. And her previous history with the mafia was also something interesting to tap in. But then I started thinking about what was realistic, what wasn’t realistic, what did I feel comfortable/interested writing? What didn’t I feel comfortable/interested in writing?  So as time went on, things would alter about this character. And the new things I came up with attracted me more. 

Q5 :   describe  the  biggest  thing  you  dislike  about  your  muse.         A5 :  I have a love/hate relationship with Eve’s quiet demeanor. On one hand, I think quieter characters need love and the ability to be fully dimensional but on the other hand, writing louder characters has always been more fun for me. But really, Eve’s guarded behavior makes writing her stressful in some cases with others because sometimes...if I’m going to be honest...people don’t know how to carry a thread and interact with someone of her demeanor effectively. 

Q6 :   what  do  you  have  in  common  with  your  muse ?       A6 : We’re both black, we’re both into art (although our exact interests and aesthetics with art differ)

Q7 :   how  does  your  muse  feel  about  you ?         A7 : Realistically she would think I need to take better care of myself.

Q8 :   what  characters  does  your  muse  have  interesting  interactions with ?   A8 :  We skippin’ this question.

Q9 :   what  gives  you  inspiration  to  write  your  muse ?       A9 : Films such as, “Waiting to Exhale,” “The Kitchen” and “Widows.” Books by Alice Walker, like “The Third Life of Grange Copeland” as well as her short story, “Roselily.” The historical mob figure Stephanie St. Clair.

Q10 :   how  long  did  this  take  you  to  complete ?       A10 : A few hours.