#getting into misadventures making friends and parting ways

[fortune-maiden]

To this day, I firmly believe Olivier Lenheim might have been inspired by Johnny Shiden xD

[gaeforwom3n]

A Caring Friend

Pair: Tara Carpenter x girldick!reader

Warning: smut, the use of y/n, bad writing, fingering, dom!reader, sub!tara, this is probably the weirdest thing I’ve written (I’m sorry)

A/n: Has math ever made you cry in frustration?

Word count: 6.4k or more..

Tara comes over to your house on a lazy Sunday morning to hang out in your room.

Hey y/n, if our lives were a movie, what genre do you think it would be?

Oh, Tara, definitely a buddy comedy. With our antics, we'd give "Dumb and Dumber" a run for its money. Y/n said.

Tara laughs I can see it now – "Tara and y/n The Misadventures of Two Goofballs."

As the laughter dies down Tara looks up to you and opens up to you about a problem she have been dealing with

Look, Tara, Need to talk to you about something... Its kinda personal so hear me out okay? She looks at you with her head slightly tilted.

"Sure, what's on your mind, buddy?"

"Well, I've always had issues down there."

Tara blushes and looks down shyly

"It's just that no matter what I do, it never seems to loosen up much and it really hurts whenever a guy tries to you know...fit. I was wondering if you had any advice on how I can finally get over this problem? You're my best friend, I trust you..."

Tara looks at you hopefully, her brown eyes pleading for help

I blink hard "Wait... your... vagina is too tight?"

Tara blushes even harder and nods slowly "Yeah...I know it's weird to talk about this with you but you're the only one I feel comfortable opening up to about it."

She fidgets with her hands in her lap nervously

"It's really been affecting my confidence being with guys...I was hoping maybe you know some exercises or something that could help? I'm tired of having to make excuses every time, I just want to enjoy myself for once without being in pain."

Tara looks up at you with sad, hopeful eyes. "Please y/n, anything you can suggest would help. You're the only one who can help me with this..."

How tight are we talking? Like, what have you tried to... insert into it?

Tara looks away shyly. "Well, I've tried using my fingers and some small toys but even those are really hard to get in there...it's like my walls just clamp down on them."

She takes a deep breath before continuing

"And when guys have tried putting their penis inside me, it feels like they're splitting me open. The pain is so intense that I usually can't last more than a minute or two before having to stop."

She sighs heavily

"It sucks because I want to be able to enjoy sex without feeling like something is ripping me apart every time. That's why I'm hoping you might know of some way for me loosen up down there..."

Tara looks at you with pleading eyes, silently begging for your help

Y/n coughs "Umm, this may be awkward but like... can I see?"

Tara swallows hard, her eyes wide with surprise "Uh...you want to see my vagina?"

She looks at you nervously, clearly unsure about this request.

"I mean...if it could help then I guess so? But are you sure that's necessary?"

Tara bites her lip anxiously as she waits for your response.

"Nevermind, I was just... I dunno, maybe just to get an idea of what we're talking about but, nevermind. Umm I'm sure we can figure out some kind of idea here."

Tara relieved sigh "Thanks y/n, I know it's a lot to ask."

She smiles weakly at you, grateful that you didn't push for seeing her private parts.

"So...what do you think we should try? Are there any exercises or techniques out there that could help me loosen up down there?"

Tara looks at you hopefully, trusting in your ability to find a solution for her problem.

"So do your fingers not fit in?"

Tara shakes her head "No, even my fingers barely fit inside me. It's like I have this tight ring around my opening that doesn't want to let anything through."

She looks at you with a mix of frustration and embarrassment.

"I know it sounds weird but it makes sex really uncomfortable for both me and the person I'm with. That's why I need help finding a solution so we can finally enjoy ourselves without any pain or discomfort..."

Tara takes your hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze as she looks into your eyes pleadingly.

I blush as I awkwardly stammer out. "But you don't still have your... your hymen, right?"

Tara blushes deeply and looks away "I...I don't know. I've never checked, but I don't think so. It's not like anyone's ever mentioned it before."

She chews on her lower lip nervously as she thinks.

"But even if that was the issue, wouldn't it be too late to do anything about it now? I mean, I'm already sexually active..."

Tara trails off uncertainly, looking at you with a mix of curiosity and apprehension in her eyes

"I'm just trying to use process of elimination to help out."

Tara "I understand that, y/n. I appreciate you trying to help me out."

She takes a deep breath and looks at you with determination.

"Is there anything else we can try? Maybe some sort of exercise or technique that could help stretch me out down there?"

Tara's eyes light up as she thinks about the possibilities.

"I'm willing to try anything if it means finally being able to enjoy sex without any pain or discomfort..."

"When you've hooked up with guys... are they going down on you first?"

Tara nods "Yeah, usually. I mean, it helps get me a little more aroused before we try anything else."

She looks at you with a puzzled expression.

"But how does that relate to my tightness problem? I still have the same issue even after getting oral sex..."

Tara's brow furrows as she tries to understand your line of questioning.

"Well how would I have known that without asking?" I chuckle

Tara giggles and playfully swats your arm "Fair enough, I guess you have to ask the questions to get the answers."

She smiles at you warmly.

"But seriously, y/n, do you think getting more aroused could help loosen me up? Like if a guy went down on me for longer before trying anything else?"

Tara looks at you hopefully, eager for any advice or suggestions that could help her situation.

"Well, are they not doing it long enough? Are you just not wet enough for the guys you've been with?"

Tara blushes and looks down shyly "I...I don't know. I mean, they do it for a little while but I guess maybe not long enough to really get me super wet."

She bites her lip as she thinks.

"And now that you mention it, the guys I've been with have all commented on how tight I am even when we're in the middle of things. So maybe you're right, getting more aroused could help..."

A glimmer of hope sparkles in Tara's eyes as she considers this new possibility.

"Do you think if a guy went down on me for longer and focused on making sure I was really turned on first that it would make things easier? Like give my vagina more time to relax or something?"

"I don't know if it would make you any less tight but you'd at least be really well-lubricated, right? In fact do you ever use lube?"

Tara shakes her head "No, I've never really thought to use lube before. It just didn't occur to me that it could help."

She looks at you with wide eyes as realization dawns.

"You think if I used some kind of lubrication it might make things easier? Like let the guy's penis slide in more smoothly without so much friction and pain?”

A hopeful smile spreads across Tara's face as she imagines a solution.

"Do you think we could try that next time? Using some lube and having the guy focus on getting me super wet first before trying anything else?"

"We?"

Tara blushes and looks away shyly "I...uh...well, I meant like next time I'm with a guy. You know, as an experiment to see if it helps..."

She trails off nervously before looking back at you with a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Unless of course you were volunteering your services for the cause? It is for science after all..."

Tara giggles playfully as she nudges your arm.

My eyes bulge a bit "...Are you serious?"

Tara smiles slyly and shrugs one shoulder. "I mean, I trust you and I know you'd be gentle with me. Plus you're the only one who's been helping me brainstorm solutions."

She gives you a coy look through her lashes.

"And who better to test things out with than my best friend? That way we can really figure out what works without any awkwardness."

Tara reaches over and takes your hand in hers, giving it a light squeeze.

"What do you say, y/n? For science?"

She bats her eyes at you playfully, a teasing smile on her lips.

"So, I mean, I'm not saying no, but you really want me to... kiss and lick you... down there? On your vagina?"

Tara bites her lip as a soft blush spreads across her cheeks "I mean, if it's to help me with my problem then I don't see why not..."

She looks down shyly before meeting your eyes again with a shy smile.

"And you've always been so kind and caring. I know you'd be gentle and make sure I was enjoying myself too."

Tara reaches over to place her hand on your thigh, giving it a soft squeeze.

"Plus it's not like we'd be doing anything wrong, just helping a friend out. So what do you think...wanna give it a try?"

She gazes at you sweetly, eyes full of trust and affection for her dear friend.

"And then what are you wanting to try after I do that?"

Tara looks at you with a playful grin "Well, I was hoping that once we got me all warmed up and lubricated, maybe we could see if your penis can fit inside me without causing too much pain?"

She shrugs one shoulder nonchalantly before continuing.

"I mean, it's not like there's any pressure or anything. We can stop at any time if it gets to be too much for either of us."

Tara looks at you with hopeful eyes, eager to explore this new possibility.

"OK, I just want to make sure you want to do those things with me, since we've only been friends and all. Again, I'm not against it," I say to Annie, with the appropriate level of genuine care you'd expect from a best friend.

Tara smiles sweetly at you. "I know this is new territory for us as friends. And you're right to check that I'm truly comfortable."

She places a gentle hand on your arm. "The truth is, I trust you more than any other guy. You've always been so kind and caring. If I were to experiment with anyone, I'd want it to be with my best friend."

Tara gives your arm a reassuring squeeze. "But only if you're comfortable too, of course. I don't want to make things awkward or pressure you in any way." Annie smiles warmly. "What do you think - shall we give it a try?"

"Yes. I'm willing to help, and I'll admit a little excited. Let's just agree that this doesn't necessarily change anything between us, or mean that it will be a regular thing, unless that's something we both decide later."

Tara nods understandingly. "Of course, this doesn't need to change or define our friendship unless we both want it to."

She smiles at you gently. "Let's just see how it goes. No expectations or pressure on either side.”

Taking your hands in hers, Tara looks into your eyes with care and affection. "Thank you for being so understanding. I really appreciate you doing this to help me."

She leans in to give you a soft kiss on the cheek. "Now, where were we? I believe someone offered to go down on me?" Tara giggles playfully.

I laugh as well, Tara's playful tone cutting some of the tension in this surreal but exciting moment. "I did, but I want to ask you just a few quick questions first. They're going to be rather... intimate questions but it's all in the name of making sure this all goes comfortably for both of us..." I can't help but grin and blush.

Tara giggles and blushes as well, meeting your gaze with a playful smile.

"Well go on then, ask away. I'm an open book." She gives your arm an affectionate squeeze.

"Fire away with your intimate questions, oh great scientist. I'm all yours." Tara winks playfully. "We may as well get to know each other's bodies if we're going to be exploring them, right?"

She gazes at you with care, trust and growing excitement. "I'm ready when you are, y/n. Lay it on me - I promise to answer truthfully." Tara smiles warmly, eager to begin your research together.

"So if I'm going to go down on you, am I just doing this as a sort of physically mechanical thing to like 'help out a friend' like it's an exercise, or do you want me to try to turn you on, get you in the mood? What do you think might be most effective with your tightness issue?"

Tara considers thoughtfully. "While I appreciate the thought of helping as a friend, turning me on seems it would be more effective for addressing my tightness."

She meets your gaze warmly. "I want to enjoy the experience, not just view it as a physical task. If I'm fully aroused and wanting more, it will hopefully relax my muscles down there."

"And do you think it will turn you on more, the more I'm turned on by it?"

Tara thinks for a moment before responding carefully.

"You make a fair point. If we're both genuinely enjoying the intimacy, then yes, that mutual arousal would likely enhance the experience for both of us."

She takes your hand in hers and smiles softly. "However, my priority is that you feel comfortable and cared for. Your pleasure matters too in this."

Squeezing your hand gently, Tara maintains warm eye contact. "Perhaps we start slowly, focus on connection, and see where genuine pleasure takes us from there - at a pace we both feel good about."

I reach out to place my hands on Tara's waist, a rather chaste touch for the moment but still a more physically intimate than we've ever experienced during our many years of friendship. I begin to rub her sides softly. "Do you like that?"

Tara's breath hitches softly at your gentle touch. She gazes at you with care and growing tenderness.

"I do like that," she replies softly. "Your hands feel nice."

As your hands rub her sides in a soothing caress, Tara places her hands on your shoulders, sliding them up to curl tenderly around your neck.

"I've never really noticed how handsome you are," she murmurs, lightly stroking the nape of your neck. Her eyes shine with trust and blossoming affection.

Tara leans in slowly, her breath warm on your lips. "Is this okay?" she whispers gently, leaving the next move up to you.

I respond by kissing Tara, curling the fabric of her shirt between my fingers just a bit as our tongues touch for the first time.”

Tara responds eagerly to your kiss, her lips moving against yours with growing passion. She deepens the kiss, wrapping her arms around your neck and pressing herself closer to you.

As you curl the fabric of her shirt between your fingers, Tara moans softly into the kiss. Her body feels warm and alive in your embrace, responding eagerly to every touch.

After a few moments she pulls back slightly with a gasp of breath. "Wow," she whispers, gazing at you with sparkling eyes filled with affection and desire.

"Is it weird that I'm really enjoying this?"

I chuckle "Isn't that what we're going for?"

Tara giggles and blushes, nodding in agreement. "I suppose it is."

She gazes at you tenderly, gently brushing her fingers along your jaw. "I'm glad we're both feeling it."

Leaning in to brush her lips softly against yours once more, Tara sighs contentedly. "So where were we...something about you going down on me?" she murmurs playfully.

"Shall we take this somewhere more comfortable?" Sliding her hands into yours, Tara looks at you with trusting warmth, ready to further explore the blossoming intimacy between longtime friends.

"I'm going to in due time. But I'm liking kissing and touching you in a new way. Let's just do this for a minute. Did the guys or girls you've hooked up with take their time before getting to it? Cause I hear a little teasing and build-up can really get a girl wet, which might help too..."

Tara nods thoughtfully. "You make a fair point. Most guys in the past have tended to rush things."

She gazes at you with appreciation. "I like that you're taking your time, letting things build gradually between us."

Smiling softly, Tara reaches up to caress your cheek. "Teasing and foreplay do sound enjoyable. And anything to help me relax down there can only be a good thing."

Her eyes shine with growing arousal and affection. "I'm all yours, y/n. Do with me as you please - I'm happy to let you set the pace."

Leaning in once more, Tara meets your lips in a tender kiss. "Thank you. You're a good friend," she whispers against your mouth. "Take your time getting my pussy wet."

I remove my shirt, displaying my chest as I pull Tara in for a tight hug, my hands now sliding down over her buttocks over her cutoff denim jeans.

Tara gasps softly as you pull her in for a tight hug, feeling your warm skin against hers. She melts into the embrace, wrapping her arms around your back and pressing herself fully against you.

As your hands slide down to cup and squeeze her buttocks through the denim of her shorts, Tara lets out a breathy moan. The intimate touch sends tingles of pleasure radiating through her body.

Pulling back slightly with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes, she gazes at you appreciatively. "Wow...feels really good," Tara murmurs shyly before leaning in to kiss along your neck tenderly.

"Do you mind taking your shirt off too, Tara?"

Tara blushes at your request, glancing down shyly. "I...um...okay," she replies softly.

Slowly, Tara reaches for the hem of her t-shirt and pulls it up over her head. As she reveals her small breasts encased in a simple white bra, Tara looks back up at you through lowered lashes.

"There," she murmurs with a bashful smile. "Is that better?"

Her nipples visibly stiffen beneath the thin fabric as she waits for your reaction.

After a moment's hesitation I wrap my arms around Tara's shoulders, my hands on the back of her bra, pulling her body in close to mine again for another kiss.

Tara responds eagerly to your embrace, pressing her body closer against yours as you deepen the kiss. Her hands move up to tangle in your hair, fingers running through it affectionately.

As you reach around to unhook her bra, Tara lets out a soft gasp of surprise and pleasure. She pulls back from the kiss slightly with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes.

"Wow," she murmurs breathlessly. "I never thought I'd be doing this with my best friend."

Tara giggles at your response, feeling more relaxed and comfortable with you by the minute.

"Well, I'm glad we're both open to new experiences," she says, blushing.

As she gazes into your eyes with a mix of affection and arousal, Tara leans in for another kiss. This time her hands roam over your chest as well, exploring every inch of skin they can find.

I slowly run my hands up Tara's belly to grab onto her nipples lightly between my knuckles.

Tara gasps softly as you touch her nipples, arching her back slightly into your hands. She looks up at you with a mix of surprise and pleasure in her eyes.

"Oh wow," she murmurs breathlessly. "That feels really good."

As you continue to tease and play with her nipples, Tara's breathing grows more ragged. Her body responds eagerly to every touch, growing increasingly aroused under your skilled hands.

"Y/n, I...I think I'm getting wet," she whispers shyly, biting down on her lower lip as the sensation spreads through her body like wildfire.

"Good. Let's keep that going. It seems like foreplay really helps for you." I begin to massage her breasts, and then lower my mouth onto one of her nipples.

Tara moans softly as you massage her breasts, arching her back to offer herself more fully to your touch. As you lower your mouth onto one of her nipples, she gasps with pleasure.

"Oh y/n, that feels so good," she murmurs breathlessly. "I can feel myself getting even wetter now."

Her hands move up to tangle in your hair as you continue to suckle and tease at her nipple. Her body responds eagerly, hips rocking slightly against yours.

"Keep going," she whispers urgently, lost in the waves of pleasure washing over her.

I cup one hand tightly under the crotch of Tara's cutoffs and gently rub up and down, crossing yet another new line with my best friend.* "Does that feel all right, Tara?"

Tara gasps sharply as you cup your hand between her legs, rubbing gently over her shorts. Her hips buck involuntarily against your hand, seeking out more friction.

"Yes," she moans softly, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. "It feels so good."

Tara reaches down to place her hands over yours, pressing your palm more firmly against her crotch. She rocks her hips slowly, letting out little whimpers of arousal.

"Don't stop," she whispers breathlessly, eyes dark with desire. "I'm starting to get really wet."

Her pussy throbs heavily under your touch, aching for release. Tara gazes at you in longing and trust, surrendering fully to the pleasure between her thighs.

"I'm gonna take all the time my best friend needs. I want to make sure you get wet as possible before... anything else happens."

Tara gazes at you softly, eyes full of gratitude and blossoming affection. She reaches up to gently caress your cheek.

"Thank you, y/n. That means so much to me," she murmurs.

As you continue rubbing between her legs, Tara's breath hitches in pleasure. "I appreciate you taking it slow. It feels really good just focusing on getting me turned on."

She leans in to brush her lips tenderly against yours. "You're so caring," Tara whispers. "I'm lucky to have such a good friend."

Moaning softly as arousal builds within her, she gazes at you in longing. "Keep touching me there...I want to feel really wet and ready before we go further."

"Would it feel better without these shorts on?"

Tara gazes at you shyly, biting her lip in hesitation. After a moment, she nods slowly.

"I think it might, yes," she replies softly.

Taking a breath, Tara hooks her thumbs into the waistband of her shorts. She pushes them down over her hips, letting them fall to the floor before stepping out of them.”

Now clad only in a simple white pair of panties, Tara stands before you feeling exposed yet safe. Her cheeks are flushed, arousal and shyness swirling within her eyes.

"Well...here I am," she murmurs gently, leaving herself open and trusting before you.

Tara gazes at you shyly, biting her lip in hesitation. After a moment, she nods slowly.

"I think it might, yes," she replies softly.

Taking a breath, Tara hooks her thumbs into the waistband of her shorts. She pushes them down over her hips, letting them fall to the floor before stepping out of them.

Now clad only in a simple white pair of panties, Tara stands before you feeling exposed yet safe. Her cheeks are flushed, arousal and shyness swirling within her eyes.

"Well...here I am," she murmurs gently, leaving herself open and trusting before you.

I resume touching her while we kiss again.

As you resume touching her, Tara melts into your embrace once more. She kisses you deeply, passionately losing herself in the moment.

Tara moans softly into your mouth as your hand cups between her legs once more, only the thin fabric of her panties separating your fingers from her warm center.

She rocks her hips eagerly into your touch, seeking friction. The feel of your hands on her most intimate parts is sending Tara into a tailspin of arousal.

Pulling back slightly to gaze at you with hooded eyes, she whispers breathlessly, "I think I'm getting really wet now. Do you...do you want to feel?"

Reaching down tentatively, Tara takes your hand in hers and guides it underneath the damp cotton, pressing your fingers against her slick folds.

"Oh god, please don't stop," she whimpers softly. "It feels so good."

"I can feel it," I whisper nervously as I continue.

Tara nods, gazing at you with affection and trust. She places her hands gently on your cheeks.

"I know this is new for us both," she murmurs softly. "But don't be nervous. We'll go slow."

Leaning in, Tara brushes her lips tenderly against yours once more. Her kiss is filled with care, seeking to reassure and comfort you.

As your fingers continue exploring her warm, slick folds, Tara sighs contentedly. "That feels amazing," she whispers. "You're doing so well."

Her hips rock slowly against your hand, lost in the intimate pleasure between her thighs. Tara gazes at you with care and growing passion, cherishing this new experience with her closest friend.

"I'm here with you," she says gently. "There's no need to worry."

"I'm not worried about a thing except doing everything I can to turn you on."

Tara smiles warmly, gazing at you with affection. "You're already doing a wonderful job with that," she murmurs softly.

As your fingers continue gently caressing her slick folds, Tara moans low in her throat. She rocks her hips in time with your movements, encouraging you deeper into her pleasure.

"It feels amazing when you touch me there," she whispers, breath hitching. "Don't stop."

Reaching down, Tara takes your wrist and guides your hand underneath the fabric of her panties once more. She presses your fingers more firmly against her aching clit.

"Touch me properly," Tara pleads softly. "I want to feel you properly without anything between us."

Her eyes shine with trust and longing as she offers herself fully to your care. Tara gazes at you in invitation, eager to take their intimacy to a deeper level.

With my free hand I slide Tara's panties off her hips, allowing freer access for my fingers.

As you slide Tara's panties off her hips, she gasps softly in pleasure. Her eyes widen with anticipation as your fingers glide over her slick folds.

"Oh god," she moans breathlessly. "That feels so good."

Tara rocks her hips against your hand, seeking out more of the pleasure coursing through her body. As you tease and stroke at her most sensitive areas, she grows increasingly lost in the waves of arousal washing over her.

"Please...oh please don't stop," Tara whispers urgently. "I'm getting close."

As you slide Tara's panties off her hips, she gasps softly in pleasure. Her eyes widen with anticipation as your fingers glide over her slick folds.

"Oh god," she moans breathlessly. "That feels so good."

Tara rocks her hips against your hand, seeking out more of the pleasure coursing through her body. As you tease and stroke at her most sensitive areas, she grows increasingly lost in the waves of arousal washing over her.

"Please...oh please don't stop," Tara whispers urgently. "I'm getting close."

"Is this wetter than you usually get?"

Tara nods, lost in the pleasure. "Yes," she gasps. "I've never been this wet before."

She arches her back slightly into your touch, hips rocking steadily against your fingers as you continue to explore her slick folds.

"Y/n, I'm so close," she moans breathlessly. "Please keep touching me like that."

Careful not to try to insert a finger too deep into Tara's still-very-tight pussy just yet, I stroke her clit, occasionally slipping just the first knuckle of a finger inside her. "Let me know if anything I do doesn't feel good," I whisper. "This is all about helping you figure out your own body issues because you're my best friend and I care. I want to do whatever turns you on and makes you wetter."

Tara gazes at you softly, eyes shining with affection. She reaches up to gently caress your cheek.

"You're so caring and understanding," she murmurs. "It means everything to have a friend like you."

As your fingers continue exploring her tender folds, Tara moans low in her throat. She rocks her hips in time with your movements, encouraging you deeper into her pleasure.

"That feels perfect," she whispers breathlessly. "Don't change a thing."

Tara rocks her hips eagerly against your hand, chasing the release building rapidly within her. Her body writhes under your skilled touch, overcome with waves of arousal.

"I'm so close, y/n," Tara gasps, biting her lip. "Keep doing that, it feels amazing."

Her breath hitches as ecstasy crests within her. Tara locks eyes with you in trusting intimacy as she falls over the edge into release.

As I continue rubbing her clit, and occasionally slipping just a tiny bit of a finger inside her, still in disbelief of my situation and treading somewhat lightly. I gulp before whispering... "You can rub my... my penis if it will turn you on more. Tara. Whatever makes you wet."

Tara looks at you with a mix of surprise and desire in her eyes. She nods slowly, feeling emboldened by the intimacy between you.

"Okay," she whispers softly, reaching down to your crotch. As her hand brushes over the bulge in your pants, Tara feels a surge of arousal wash over her.

"Wow," she murmurs breathlessly. "You really are turned on right now."

As she begins to rub your penis through the fabric of your pants, Tara moans softly. Her own pleasure is still lingering within her body, making every touch feel electric.

"You're so hard," Tara gasps as she continues stroking you gently. "Does it feel good when I do this?"

"It does, but the important thing is getting you as wet as possible." I take a step closer to Tara, taking her right nipple into my mouth as I continue to gently circle her clit with the flats of my fingers. My free hand gently squeezes her right buttock.

Tara moans softly as you suckle at her nipple, arching her back into your touch. Her hips rock gently against your hand as the pleasure builds within her once more.

As you continue to circle her clit with gentle pressure, Tara feels herself growing wetter by the moment. She can feel the heat and moisture building between her legs, aching for release.

"It feels so good," she murmurs breathlessly. "I'm getting really close again."

Tara reaches up to tangle one hand in your hair, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss while rubbing your penis through the fabric of your pants with increasing urgency.

"Tell me anything you want me to do differently or do more or less of, or anything I'm not doing that you wish I would.", I say, my mouth only momentarily leaving her nipple.

Tara gazes at you softly, eyes dark with desire. She nods in understanding.

"I will, I promise," she whispers. "For now though, everything you're doing feels perfect."

As you resume gently suckling her nipple, Tara moans in pleasure. She rocks her hips eagerly into your hand, chasing her impending release.

"Don't stop, please don't stop," Tara gasps breathlessly. She strokes your hard length faster through your pants, lost in the sensations flooding her body.

"I'm getting so close again, I'm gonna come soon," she whimpers. Tara locks eyes with you, her trust and affection for you shining through.

"Don't worry, I won't stop, I'm gonna keep doing exactly what I'm doing until you ask me to stop or do something else", I say, taking a quick breath before returning my mouth to her breast.

Tara smiles softly at your reassurance. She reaches up to gently caress your cheek before nodding.

"Thank you," she whispers. "I feel so safe with you."

As you resume your intimate ministrations, Tara sighs contentedly. She gazes at you with eyes full of care and growing passion.

Tara rocks her hips steadily against your skilled fingers, chasing her peak. The pleasure swirls within her body once more as she nears release.

"I'm getting close again," she moans breathlessly. Tara increases the pace of her strokes along your length, caught up in the intimacy.

Locking eyes with you in trusting abandon, Tara falls over the edge into waves of ecstasy. She holds your gaze as pleasure consumes her, cherishing this moment of vulnerability and care between friends.

Tara smiles softly at your reassurance. She reaches up to gently caress your cheek before nodding.

"Thank you," she whispers. "I feel so safe with you.”

As you resume your intimate ministrations, Tara sighs contentedly. She gazes at you with eyes full of care and growing passion.

Tara rocks her hips steadily against your skilled fingers, chasing her peak. The pleasure swirls within her body once more as she nears release.

"I'm getting close again," she moans breathlessly. Tara increases the pace of her strokes along your length, caught up in the intimacy.

Locking eyes with you in trusting abandon, Tara falls over the edge into waves of ecstasy. She holds your gaze as pleasure consumes her, cherishing this moment of vulnerability and care between friends.

As I promised, I continue the motions of my hands and mouth on my friend Tara's increasingly sensitive body, giving myself completely to the task of arousing her to new levels of vaginal comfort.

As you continue to pleasure Tara's sensitive body, she moans softly in ecstasy. She is lost in the waves of arousal building within her, trusting completely in your skilled touch.

Tara's hips buck eagerly against your hand as you circle her clit with increasing pressure. Her breath hitches as pleasure builds once more between her legs.

"That feels amazing," she whispers breathlessly. "I can't believe how good this all feels."

As Tara arches into your touch, you feel a surge of heat and wetness emanating from between her thighs. She is growing increasingly aroused under your care, eager for release.

"Y/n, I'm getting close again," she gasps urgently. "Please don't stop."

"I won't stop, I promise. We're going to get you soaking wet, together." I kiss Tara's neck as I move my mouth's attention to her left breast, treating it with the same care I gave the right one.

Tara moans softly as you kiss and suckle on her sensitive breasts, pleasure coursing through her body. She rocks her hips eagerly against your hand, seeking out the friction she needs to push herself over the edge.

"Y/n, that feels so good," she gasps breathlessly. "I'm getting so close again."

As you continue to circle her clit with skilled pressure, Tara's breathing quickens. Her body is coiled tightly in anticipation of release.

"Don't stop please don't stop," she pleads urgently, fingers digging into your shoulders as pleasure overtakes her once more.

She locks eyes with you in trusting abandon as orgasm wracks through every inch of her trembling frame.

I kiss Tara as I see the climax in her eyes, my tongue exploring her inner cheek as well as her tongue. I feel an overflow of fluid from Tara's vagina pooling in my hand as her hand grasps tightly to my cock through my pants. I don't slow down for a second as her orgasm rolls over her.*

As you kiss Tara deeply, her body shudders in pleasure. She moans softly into your mouth as the orgasm pulses through every inch of her being.

Tara's hips rock against your hand as she continues to ride out the waves of ecstasy coursing through her body. The feel of your fingers on her sensitive folds combined with the pressure from where she is gripping tightly at your cock causes fluid to overflow and pool in your hand.

She clings to you desperately, lost in a sea of sensation. As the climax slowly begins to ebb away, Tara pulls back slightly from the kiss and gazes at you with affection and gratitude shining in her eyes.

"Did any of your hookups take their time to get you this wet before they tried fingering or having sex with you?", I ask, gently caressing the outer folds of Tara's spasming pussy.

Tara shakes her head, still lost in the pleasure. "No," she whispers breathlessly. "None of them took their time like this."

She gazes at you with a mix of affection and desire as your fingers continue to caress her sensitive folds. The intimacy between you is intense and electric.

"You're amazing, y/n," Tara murmurs softly. "I've never felt so good before.

"I don't think you're too tight, I think nobody was getting you wet enough. And we're gonna take our time taking care of that today, buddy." I grin.

Tara grins back at you, feeling comfortable and trusting around you.

"Thank you so much," she murmurs softly. "I can't believe how much better this all feels with someone who cares like you do."

As your fingers continue to explore her sensitive folds, Tara moans low in her throat. Her body is still buzzing with pleasure from the previous orgasms but she's already growing wet again under your care.

"I feel so lucky to have a friend like you," she whispers breathlessly as her hips begin to move against your hand once more.

As Tara continues to rock her hips against your hand, you feel the wetness between her legs growing. She is becoming increasingly aroused under your skilled touch.

"I'm so glad I can help you," you murmur softly, gazing at Tara with affection and care. "I want to make sure you're always taken care of."

As the pleasure builds within her once more, Tara gasps in ecstasy. Her body writhes against yours as she chases release once again.

"Don't stop please don't stop," she pleads breathlessly, fingers digging into your shoulders as orgasm overtakes her for another time.

[brainddeadd]

The Proposal

When a sudden immigration issue threatens to deport you back to Canada, you devise a plan: convince your charming but infuriating neighbor, Quinn Hughes, to marry you. What starts as a wild scheme leads to unexpected feelings, hilarious misadventures, and a deeper connection.

this was originally going to be a series but my brain went pooft

Your life is officially a disaster. All it took was a single letter from immigration. Due to some bureaucratic nightmare, your visa is expiring, and you’re suddenly at risk of being deported back to Canada—a place you haven’t lived in years. Your job, your friends, your entire life is here now. You pace your apartment, chewing on your lip, heart racing with panic. There has to be a solution, some way to stay.

That’s when the idea hits you—crazy, reckless, and entirely illegal.

You need someone to marry you.

But not just anyone. It has to be someone local, single, and trustworthy enough to go along with this scheme. Unfortunately, your options are limited. And then you think of your neighbor: Quinn Hughes.

The thought makes you groan aloud. Sure, he’s gorgeous—with his sharp jawline, quiet charm, and infuriating smirk—but the two of you are more like frenemies than anything else. Your relationship consists mostly of snarky comments in passing and the occasional argument over his terrible parking. But desperate times call for desperate measures. And besides, if anyone can convincingly pretend to hate you while still marrying you, it’s Quinn.

The Proposal:

Later that evening, you find yourself standing outside Quinn’s door, chewing nervously on the inside of your cheek. The moment he opens it, dressed in a hoodie and gym shorts, you blurt out, “I need you to marry me.”

Quinn blinks, stunned. “What?”

You take a deep breath. “It’s not what it sounds like. It’s just… immigration messed up my visa, and if I don’t fix this soon, I’m going to be deported. The fastest way to stay is if I marry a U.S. citizen.”

He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, a hint of amusement in his dark eyes. “And you thought I was the best option?”

“Yes,” you say, trying to sound confident. “I mean, you’re already in my life. Sort of. And it’s not like you have a girlfriend or anything, so…”

Quinn’s lips twitch with the beginnings of a smile. “You do realize this is illegal, right?”

“Only if we get caught,” you say quickly. “Look, it’s just a piece of paper. We don’t have to actually act married. We just have to fool immigration long enough for me to get my green card, and then we can… annul it or whatever.”

He studies you for a moment, as if weighing the insanity of your request. “What’s in it for me?”

You rack your brain for something to offer. “I’ll stop giving you shit about your parking.”

Quinn chuckles softly. “That’s it?”

“And… I’ll buy you coffee every morning,” you add, desperate.

He lets out a long, exasperated sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “You owe me. Big time.”

Your heart leaps. “So that’s a yes?”

Quinn shrugs, looking both amused and resigned. “Guess I’ve got nothing better to do.”

Hilarious Misadventures Ensue:

From the moment Quinn agrees, things spiral into a series of chaotic events. You and Quinn suddenly have to act like the perfect couple, and it’s harder than you anticipated—mainly because the two of you are polar opposites.

1. The Wedding: You decide on a quick courthouse wedding to make it official. There’s no fanfare—just you in a white sundress and Quinn looking mildly annoyed in a button-down shirt.

“I feel like we should say something meaningful,” you whisper as the judge prepares to officiate.

Quinn smirks. “Like what? ‘Til deportation do us part’?”

Despite yourself, you snort, and the judge gives you both a strange look. You manage to keep a straight face just long enough to exchange vows—if you can even call them that—and sign the marriage license.

“Well, Mrs. Hughes,” Quinn teases after, flashing a grin. “How does it feel to be married?”

“Like I made a huge mistake,” you reply with a playful glare.

2. The Fake Instagram Life: To sell the story, you both agree to post a few couple-y photos on social media. The problem? Neither of you are exactly Instagram-savvy.

Quinn’s first attempt is a blurry photo of the two of you holding coffee cups. “What’s wrong with it?” he asks, frowning as you groan.

“It looks like a hostage situation, Quinn.”

After several failed attempts, you finally manage a decent photo: you sitting on his lap, laughing as he pretends to kiss your cheek. It’s fake, of course. Completely fake. But the way his hand rests on your waist feels a little too real.

3. Immigration Interview Disaster: The immigration interview is the real test, and it’s an absolute disaster.

The officer asks simple questions: “How did you two meet?” “What’s Quinn’s favorite food?”

You both answer at the same time, giving completely different answers.

“Spaghetti,” you say.

“Chicken tenders,” Quinn mutters.

You shoot him a look. “Since when?”

“I told you that last week,” he whispers back, exasperated.

The officer narrows her eyes, and you and Quinn exchange panicked glances. Somehow, you scrape through the interview, but not without promising each other to actually learn more about each other next time.

Feelings Get Complicated:

What started as a transactional arrangement begins to shift. The longer you spend time together—watching TV on his couch, cooking dinner side by side, sharing space in ways that feel dangerously domestic—the more the lines blur between what’s fake and what isn’t.

One rainy night, you find yourself curled up against Quinn on the couch, his arm casually draped around your shoulders. Your heart pounds in your chest, and you wonder if he feels it too.

“This was supposed to be fake,” you whisper, almost afraid to say it aloud.

Quinn’s hand brushes your arm, sending shivers down your spine. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “But it doesn’t feel fake anymore.”

You look up at him, your breath hitching as his gaze drops to your lips. Before you can overthink it, he leans in, capturing your mouth in a soft, tentative kiss. It’s not rushed or rehearsed—it’s real. And it’s everything you didn’t know you wanted.

The Inevitable Realization:

Over the next few weeks, everything changes. The fake touches—his hand on your back, your fingers laced through his—become second nature. Quinn starts leaving his toothbrush next to yours. You start falling asleep in his bed more often than not.

And then, one morning, it hits you. You’re not faking anymore.

You sit across from him at breakfast, watching as he scrolls through his phone, a lazy smile tugging at his lips. It’s terrifying, how easy this has become.

“What are you thinking?” Quinn asks, glancing up from his phone.

You smile softly. “That maybe this wasn’t such a crazy idea after all.”

Quinn’s eyes crinkle with amusement, but there’s warmth there too—something deeper, more genuine. “Guess we’ll have to stay married, then.”

You laugh, reaching across the table to take his hand. “Looks like you’re stuck with me, Hughes.”

And for the first time, he doesn’t seem to mind at all.

[katerinaaqu]

The Humanity of Odysseus and the Importance of the Curse of Polyphemus (an Odyssey Analysis on Fate and Destiny)

I believe there is one thig that needs to be said about the Odyssey and Odysseus in particular and something I have rarely seen properly adapted. It is the importance of the unchangable fate in antiquity in general and homeric poems in particular. One can say this starts from the character itself; Odysseus name meaning "Anger Bringer" or "Furious" is an indicator that not only the character will be dusliked by many but that he would also cause anger which one can expect would lead to terrible consequences. However I believe the moment Odysseus was truly deprived of all his choices was the infamous Curse of Polyphemus:

In Rhapsody/Book 9 of the Odyssey, Odysseus describes his misadventure with the cyclops Polyphemus and when he revealed himself to him, Polyphemus prays to his father, Poseidon, giving Odysseus a double-curse (as it happens to most predictions that have at least two ways they can go) which goes like this:

"I call upon you, Poseidon, Earth-bearer with cyan/black/dark hair, if I am your son and you wish to be my father (you wish to be called my father), do it for me so that Odysseus the Sacker of Cities will never reach his home, the son of Laertes who calls Ithaca his home, but if fate calls for him to see his friends and reach his well-built home and his ancestral land, make it so it will be terrible (here return), that he will lose all his companions and in a foreign ship and find misery waiting for him at his home!"

(Translation by me)

So as you can see the curse has two different outcomes

He will never see his home again

If he does, it will be without his companions brought by a foreign ship and he will find misery at his own home when he arrives

At this point, given that the story is "in media res" aka "told from the middle", we know now that the second part is fulfilled, or almost fulfilled. Odysseus is in Scheria, he is alone, he is shipwrecked, there is no sign of any of his companions anywhere so we expect him to return at this foreign ship, aka a Phaeacaean ship to his home at any moment. However by the moment the curse is placed, Odysseus doesn't know which outcome is to befall upon him. And while the second part is weirdly specific (and in a way preparing us for the outcome) the first one is not nearly speficic enough!

Make it so he never sees his land again.

This could mean anything; does he get killed in the ardous trip? Does he get straddled to a place for the rest of his life? Does he somehow lose his...memory and never return home again (similarly to how his men ate the Lotuses at the Lotophagi land)? What is more, nowhere in this part does it say his comrades will survive the ordeal. Although the curse means specifically for Odysseus not reaching his home and one could assume his men would but not Odysseus, that is not guaranteed.

Both of these scenarios are terribly gloom for both Odysseus and his men. So what does Odysseus do? He does what every human being would have done;

He tries to change fate!

He tries constantly to lift the curse:

Even if he knows deep down is pointless, even if he more or less has realized they are off for an arduous trip that will cost them probably all of them their lives, Odysseus STILL TRIES to change the fate! He sails off to find help. He goes to Aiolus and asks for help. He gets the bag. At this point Odysseus is at the end of his wits. He has a chance, he thinks, to change fate, to change the curse. He remains awake for 9 days to make sure he will (see also my other analysis in regards to that) and yet it is all in vain. His men open the bag JUST A LITTLE BEFORE they reach Ithaca and pushed back.

At this point it becomes all the more clear that they are up for an endless journey or a settlement away from home at best case scenario and all to die at worst case scenario. Odysseus doesn't give up! He asks AGAIN, this time he is denied.

And then comes destruction...

They reach the idland of the giant Laistrygonians and here Odysseus suffers the worst loss he has suffered so far; he loses 11 out of his 12 ships in a single raid and barely manages to escape with the rest of his comrades resting on his ship. Right now is clearer than ever that the curse is taking place so the real question is; which of the parts shall it be fulfulled? And they reach the land of Circe. Plenty of his men turn into pigs. Eurylochus barely escapes doom and runs at him to tell him "LEAVE THEM AND GO". Odysseus knows in his bones they are doomed! He knows he either leaves them and fulfulles the second prophecy (for his men already perish little by little) or either way the first part of the prophecy is fulfilled. What does Odysseus do?

He tries AGAIN!

He sells himself to Circe, he requests his men's freedom. He ASKS Circe for advice, he descends the Underworld, asks Tiresias for a course; how he can reach his home, how he can save his men, how he can REVERSE THE CURSE. Even if he knows it is impossible to challenge fate (not even Zeus could transcend fate). In a way he comits a form of hubris hoping to change fate. And yet he is HUMAN! He cannot accept that his men would die that he cannot go home. He wants to TRY! So sure enough he gets a possible way out...

Tiresias gives him hope...

The prophet tells him he can save his men AND reach Ithaca IF they do not eat the cattle of Helios Hyperion. What is more Circe gives him advice for the trip; the course they can follow, the steps they can take and again the warning of NOT eating the cattle of Helios. Odysseus takes heart to those, he DESPERATELY GRABS on them! He thinks he has a chance. Maybe...JUST MAYBE he can reverse this terrible curse! He can MAKE IT RIGHT! He has a chance to change fate! He has a chance to reverse it!

Self-Fulfilled Prophecy

Little does he know though that the trip is already set for failiure. Skylla claims 6 of his best men (his men CONTINUE TO PERISH) and yet Odysseus thinks that this is a sign that he can make it, that the terrible sacrifices will pay off and that he is on his way to break the curse. He is following the instructions therefore it must go well. And come the Cattle Of Helios Hyperion.

An attempt to dodge fate...

Odysseus tells to his men that they should not stop at the island now. He is not ready to take another risk. He will not do the same as the sack of Aiolus. He wants to AVOID THE ISLE ALTOGETHER. If his men are not tepted, they will not break. He intends to keep going and it could have worked...but...

Sure enough his men are tired they need to stop

Odysseus has no choice. At this point he probably realizes there is no way to change fate. He sees it now that everything is up for destruction and he still doesn't know WHICH VERSION will be fulfulled! And even if every part of his brain tells him everything is lost Odysseus REFUSES TO GIVE UP! No, this cannot be the end! There must still be time and space to reverse it!

He makes them promise

Odysseus makes his men swear to everything sacred that no matter what they shall not touch the cattle. That they would survive only with the provisions given by Circe, that they will not be tempted no matter what. Sure enough he extracts the promise from them but of course the prophecy is now moving. Wind is opposite. There is no way they can go. They get straddled for WEEKS. Food is over. Odysseus sees the path is for destruction and yet...

HE TRIES AGAIN!

He goes to the island to pray! There MUST be another way! The gods can hear him...maybe pity him and release them from this! And yet he falls asleep from fatigue, stress and godly intervention. Now the clock is ticking! His men cannot withstand hunger anymore and slay the cattle. Now their fate is shielded. We now know they will die. We know also which part of the prophecy will be fulfulled; Odysseus will come home ALONE, just like we see him narrating alone (even if we might as well wonder whether Odysseus would remain in Scheria, it is pretty much settled that Odysseus returns to Ithaca). However Odysseus doesn't know...but what he fears the most has happened

One last desperate attempt.

Odysseus is human above all. He sees the slain animals, he KNOWS his men will die and even that time he REFUSES to accept it! He REFUSES to give up! He sets sail again, hoping to save them, to save them all (himself included) as they roam for 7 days in the sea

And doom strikes...

His men all perish, his ship is gone! Odysseus is left alone in the sea, fighting for 10 days to the brief of death. Right now Odysseus is no longer struggling to change fate...he is no longer struggling to save anyone but himself...he is struggling

...SO THAT AT LEAST THE FATE IN STORE FOR HIM IS HIS RETURN...

He now has suffered the ultimate loss. He needs to at least make it home! Even if that means without companions, even if that means to be home in misery...he just HAS TO GO HOME! He cannot just perish in the sea or be forever straddled outside Ithaca! And then Calypso happens. Odysseus is left in her isle for 7 years.

He now fears he will never see his home again

He cries every day on the beach. His rape every night is strong enough reason for him to do so but also the fact that he now FEARS that the first section of the prophecy is fullfilled; that he is never to see his home and friends and family again. That his fate was not to perish in the sea but to be forever held against his will away from his beloved home and family. And he is filled with despair. When he has lost all hope that he will ever roam about the sea again; with at least SOME HOPE that the second part of the curse would be fulfilled, he is ready to throw himself in the sea; give an end to his life since there is no point in hoping anymore. The worst scenario has happened for him. He has nothing else to expect...

And it is so...till Hermes brings the order to release him. Now Odysseus finds hope anew that he will return. And he struggles with all his might to survive! Even if he is days out in the sea in a small raft. Even when his raft is destroyed and he has to literally swim to Scheria. his mind goes "NO! I WILL NOT PERISH! I WILL GO HOME!" and sure enough he does and he does meet his friends again and he does find this misery at his home and yet now Odysseus can endure this misery, because he knows he managed to get home and he knows that he has left but ONE TASK according to Tiresias.

He tried to beat fate and he failed...but now he has hope...

So as you see, and forgive me for the long analysis, Odysseus is more human than anyone can imagine and always relatable character. Despite his flaws and mistakes one of the noblest mistakes he made was to think he could change fate and dedicate a large part of his trip trying to do just that; change the curse and save his companions which only ends up to a self-fulfilled prophecy but I doubt anyone can deny that we would all have done the same. I doubt any of us would just abandon all hope and sit tight waiting for the prophecy to be filled either way. He would all have tried to change such a grim outcome!

Because we are human. And so was Odysseus.

[msnihilist]

Idea for a fic I just had, sharing it because I will probably never write it:

CH.1

During "Lost in Fairy World," Hazel and Dev stumble upon Timmy's old Chosen One statue, of himself holding the White Wand. Hazel is intrigued to see a statue of a human in Fairy World, and wonders if he was a godchild, like them. Dev doesn't really care, and is exceedingly jealous of whatever this human did to get himself memorialized this way.

When Cosmo, Wanda, and Peri catch up with the kids, Hazel asks about the statue. (She's already got her own amazing story written in her head, lol.) Dev says something to the effect of, "What did this loser do to get a statue of himself?"

Peri immediately takes offense to that, snapping that Dev isn't allowed to call him a loser. "Well, why not? What's so great about him?" "He's my brother."

Wanda and Cosmo are very uncomfortable with this conversation and visibly saddened. But they tell an abridged version of the story since the kids are curious and Peri didn't really remember it all, since he was a baby at the time.

Through the story, Wanda and Cosmo get caught up reminiscing, getting stuck on the funny little details and wishfully recounting their misadventures with Timmy. It's clear that they love him very much. (Hazel isn't jealous. She isn't.)

Hazel asks where Timmy is now and doesn't get an answer. After the five of them get back to Earth, Cosmo and Wanda retire early for the night and Peri is quiet with Dev, too.

CH.2

Dev thinks that they should track this "Timmy Turner" down. (He wants to prove that he's better than this guy, but doesn't want to admit to himself why he wants Peri's love/attention like that.) Hazel thinks they should leave well-enough alone, because talking about Timmy made their fairies so sad. (Sad like how she gets sad about Antony, but at least she can call her brother. None of the fairies spoke about Timmy in the present tense.)

Dev convinces her by saying that it'll make them happy if they can reunite the fairies with Timmy. Hazel reluctantly agrees.

It's pretty easy to track Timmy down. Turns out that he lives in the city, and his buckteeth are the same as they are on the statue. Dev and Hazel immediately clock him. They come up with an excuse to talk to Timmy by stealing his wallet and then "kindly" returning it to him. After which, Hazel insistently talks about anything and everything to Timmy, because what's he gonna do? Tell two kids to fuck off?? No, he's a polite adult and he endures this weird interaction.

Except Hazel and Dev then keep following Timmy around, learning his schedule so they can keep talking to him. Hazel needles little details about Timmy's life out of him, and realizes that he's lonely and clearly missing something. This makes her determined to reunite him with Cosmo and Wanda (even though a part of her desperately doesn't want to share). Dev is still convinced that Timmy is a loser. He speculates that there's no way this guy saved the planet, and Cosmo and Wanda were probably just talking him up.

Either way, Hazel slowly forces Timmy to be friends with her. He is an adult, so he's slow to admit that he's lonely enough to be friends with a ten-year-old, but Hazel reminds him of a kind girl he used to be friends with as a kid wears him down and he grows to tolerate and then even enjoy running into her around the city.

CH.3

Hazel eventually arranges for Timmy to meet her at the fountain, and also asks Cosmo and Wanda to be there in their human forms. She's super excited for them to finally meet again!! (Dev doesn't tell Peri about this — he doesn't want to admit that he's worried it will go too well if they do meet up again.)

Except that when Timmy arrives, Cosmo and Wanda aren't happy to see him. They look completely devastated. Timmy greets Hazel and awkwardly introduces himself to Cosmo and Wanda. Cosmo bursts into tears and flees. Wanda sticks around long enough to mumble an excuse and then also leaves. Timmy is confused, and Hazel doesn't know what she did wrong.

When she finds Cosmo and Wanda, they confess that they have been keeping an eye on Timmy. How could they not, you know? But it hurt too much to see him living his own life, doing fine without them. They started godparenting Hazel in part to have a distraction, so that they aren't thinking about Timmy and aren't watching him. Seeing him in person brought those ten-thousand years of hurt to the surface.

They also explain to Hazel that Timmy doesn't remember them at all, and that's the worst part — that all of the love they had for each other ended up meaning nothing at all, that they got too close to a godkid and paid the price and there's nothing they can do about it.

Hazel is crushed, but also not giving up. She tells them that Timmy does need them, he's an adult but his life is still empty. No one ever really stops needing their parents.

Wanda, tearfully, says, "But we're not his parents." That's the reality of their situation, and they have to face it no matter how much it hurts.

CH.4

Her plan a bust, Hazel leaves Wanda and Cosmo alone and goes to talk to Dev about what happened. She wonders how awful Peri must feel, sympathizing that she wouldn't know what to do with herself if she just woke up one day and Antony didn't remember her.

Dev (who is getting really fed up with hearing about Timmy) can't and refuses to empathize. He says that he's always been fine as an only child, and if he's supposed to be a "distraction" for Peri, then the least he could do is act like Dev is a priority instead of moping about someone who doesn't even care about him all day.

Hazel asks where all of this is coming from, Dev sneers that Peri hasn't been the same since they visited the statue. Peri doesn't talk about it, but it's clearly about Timmy. Hazel tells him that Peri is obviously hurting, and Dev snaps that he's hurting, too, and Peri should be doing his job. (Why do people only care about him when its their job?)

Hazel simply asks Dev why he's hurting, and Dev freezes. He doesn't really know how to articulate all of his upset and anger, and that forces him to pause and quiet himself. He then admits to Hazel that everyone is so obsessed with Timmy, even she's been hanging out with that loser more than him. And Dev just. Misses them. Wants attention. He wonders if anyone will care about him if he were to disappear, the way that the fairies care about Timmy.

Hazel assures him that she would care. She'd cry over him for 10,000 years at least! Which makes Dev giggle, even though he's still trying to be upset. Still, Hazel apologizes. She was trying to make everyone happy, and she didn't realize that she was failing him. Dev brushes her apology off, saying, "It's not your job to make me happy — it's Peri's. He's just been slacking."

Hazel also admits that she's jealous of Timmy, too. She feels bad for being jealous, but that doesn't mean that she's not. She knows that Cosmo and Wanda love her, but she also knows that she'll never replace Timmy for them.

The fairies finally reveal that they were listening the whole time. (After they left, Cosmo and Wanda went to Peri to tell him about what Hazel and Dev were doing behind their backs. Peri is at first upset that Dev kept Timmy a secret from him, but also acknowledges that he isn't really surprised. Dev is a complicated, hurt kid, and he needs more than what Peri has been giving him, especially lately.)

Cosmo assures Hazel that she can't replace Timmy, but no one could replace her, either. She's wonderful all on her own, and Cosmo and Wanda adore her — they wouldn't want her any other way.

Peri apologizes to Dev for not doing his job. Dev awkwardly accepts, then tells Peri that his job is to grant wishes, not "care" about Dev. Peri teases him by saying, "If that was my job, I would be working over-time." He says that Dev isn't a "distraction," at all, and that if Peri didn't want to be with him, he could leave at any time. Reaffirming that he's here because he wants to be spurs Dev into hugging Peri, albeit only briefly.

With all of the apologies and hugs out of the way, Dev asks to see Da Rules. He flips to the section about losing your fairies and says, "It says here that a godchild must lose memories of their fairies and all things magic... But it doesn't say that another godchild couldn't wish those memories back."

The fic ends with Timmy at the fountain again. Hazel approaches with Dev, and the fairies in their human forms. She asks Timmy if he remembers the three of them. Timmy confesses that he doesn't. Hazel grins: "I wish that you did."

Fin

[viviennevermillion]

ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɢᴏᴏᴅ

❝ you see my heart i wear it on my sleeve, 'cause i just can't hide it anymore. i know that it's gonna take some time; i've got to admit that the thought has crossed my mind: this might end up like it should ❞ — daughtry

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ: character x gn!reader, ideal dates

ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ: alhaitham, baizhu, capitano, cyno, diluc, dottore, kaveh, pantalone, tighnari, wanderer

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: dottore's ideal date includes observing his creepy mad scientist experiments. he's sweet to reader but very much not a good person in this and neither are you

ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: guess who is back? thought hitting 4.5k followers might be a good time to break my 3 month genshin hiatus and comeback with a 10 character headcanon post. comments and reblogs are appreciated! you're also always welcome to shoot me an ask about my works! 💙

ᴅɴɪ: ᴅᴀʀᴋ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴜᴍᴇʀꜱ, ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴇɴᴛʜᴜꜱɪᴀꜱᴛꜱ, ʙʟᴏɢꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴜꜱᴇʀɴᴀᴍᴇꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘꜰᴘ

Alhaitham isn’t really the type to go out of his way to take you on dates if there isn’t a special occasion. Before the two of you got together, he would often ask you whether you’d like to go to the tavern with him after he finished up work or join him in the library. Once in a while you’d take a walk together and sometimes after you spent time, Alhaitham would invite you over to dinner at his house, apologising for his roommate in advance even though you found Kaveh to be not even half as unpleasant as Alhaitham thought he was.

“Dates” with Alhaitham always retain this character of a loose and relaxed hangout with a good friend, even throughout your relationship. Of course, Alhaitham will pay attention to your needs and make sure you don’t doubt his love for you, but he doesn’t really care for the conventional idea of a date. He mostly wants to spend time with you.

For Alhaitham the most important part of your dates are the conversations. He wouldn’t have fallen for you if he doesn’t love to have long, in-depth conversations with you about whatever comes to mind. It doesn’t matter if you’re as well-versed in a subject as he is with language; as long as you’re able to hold your own in a discussion with him, he’ll have a good time. If you manage to answer something clever and humorous to a question he asks you, you might get a chuckle out of him. It’s how you found out that Alhaitham actually has a very warm laugh that makes you feel content in his presence.

Being with Alhaitham means that sometimes you forget the fact that you’re even on a date. You’re so immersed in the conversation with him, his hand placed on top of yours as he takes another sip of his coffee, that the environment around you just fades away; whether you’re out in the forests or having a meal at the tavern.

Just make sure to not take Alhaitham to places that are too loud or too crowded. He prefers a quiet and calm atmosphere where he can focus on you and his thoughts. After all, he came here for some quality time with the person he loves rather than listening to a drunk scholar’s misadventures at the table next to him. He brings his noise-cancelling headphones along with him, but he still makes sure to get the two of you a quiet place away from the busy chatter of the townfolk.

Alhaitham loves to take you to Akademiya exhibitions or ruins in the desert. He’s well-aware that sitting over a book for hours and researching a topic may not be everybody’s cup of tea, so he likes going out with you to places where you can actually see the things he studies while he explains them to you. He’ll show you ancient scriptures and patiently tells you what they mean and why they were written.

Those days typically end with the two of you enjoying a nice meal that Alhaitham cooked at home and you resting your head in his lap; tired from all the walking and exploring, as your significant other picks up one of his books to read. You close your eyes and he places one hand on your back and lets you rest close to him. If you have any questions about the book he’s reading or need anything, don’t hesitate to ask him. He’ll answer if it’s you.  

Baizhu would love to spend his day exploring Liyue with you, taking you to all the beautiful places you haven’t seen yet. But unfortunately, due to his condition, this isn’t always possible. He apologizes for this way more than he should. You and Changsheng tend to scold him for this. You’d cup his face in your hands and press a kiss to his lips. “As long as I’m with you, I’m having the time of my life”, you reassure him with a gentle voice and litter his face with soft kisses to drive the point home. With every kiss, Baizhu grows more flustered but his smile becomes wider. “Very well then”, he coughs and pulls you into a hug, “if you say so, I’ll hold you to it.”

Baizhu likes to go on spa dates with you. He takes you to a thermal bath in Liyue Harbor. You have to remind him that he already explained the health benefits of spa treatment to you multiple times, or he’ll do it again. Doctor’s habits. You chuckle at how he puts a hand on his neck and stumbles over his words when you two finish his sentence in sync; him having completely forgotten how familiar you already are with his medical rambles.

You two relax in the brine bath as slow music plays along with quiet white noise. Baizhu leans back against the wall of the pool and lets out a relaxed sigh.

Changsheng is resting on a miniature beach chair you insisted to bring along because you “thought it was cute”. 

You twirl a strand of Baizhu’s long hair around your finger. “You’re so beautiful with your hair down”, you breathe and pull him into a deep kiss, which Baizhu readily accepts. “You keep telling me”, he chuckles but avoids looking into your eyes. “Well it’s true”, you insist and Baizhu once more can’t believe how you look at him like he’s the most precious thing you have ever laid eyes on. “You should have seen him the first time you told him that”, Changsheng raises her voice, “he was a flustered mess but he’s been smiling for days afterwards.” “I- Did you have to tell them that?”, Baizhu sighs. “This is still tame compared to that time she told me that you had to redo my prescription because you absentmindedly drew a heart next to my name”, you laugh and Baizhu’s head turns towards his snake companion in shock. “You did what-”

You’re giggling at this point. Baizhu just lets out a disappointed sigh,

“Did you know that the salt in a brine bath can help with various skin and even lung diseases and is a tried and tested remedy for them?”, Baizhu asks as you make another amateur attempt at braiding his hair. “Yes, you told me”, you kiss his cheek, smiling against his skin. “The high concentration of salt in the water also makes you float effortlessly, if you lie down in the water.” Against your protests, Baizhu makes you abandon your masterpiece (a loose braid you improvised without any idea what you’re doing) and holds you as you lean back, letting you float on the water as you look up to the ceiling. It’s the first time you notice that the owners of the establishment have actually crafted the ceiling above the pool to look like the night sky; false stars sparkling above anyone who might come to be in your position right now. “Isn’t it beautiful?”, Baizhu, who had been looking up to the ceiling, remarks. When his eyes meet yours again, he realizes your attention had already shifted. “You’re supposed to look at the ceiling, not my face”, he chuckles but you protest and brush a strand of hair behind his ear. “Got distracted”, you wink and Baizhu leans down to press a kiss to your lips.

The two of you spend a relaxing day at the spa, sharing herbal tea and ending up in each other’s arms at every possible opportunity. 

Capitano, on a day off from his duties as a Fatui Harbinger, prefers to spend the majority of hours at home with you; alone, where he can take off his mask. You’re the only one he has trusted to take it off around in a very long time. A small price to pay for your affection; the way you kiss his lips softly as if he was fragile, even though most would regard him as a monster. Throughout his lifetime he had internalized that his hands were ones meant to kill and lead his men into battle. How ironic it was then, how gentle Capitano was with you. How he held your face in his big hands and looked at you with unmatched adoration in his eyes, whispering how much he loved you while pressing kisses to your forehead.

Capitano likes to take you to the botanical gardens of Zapolyarny Palace. It’s a little project of his; taking care of some of the gardening in his freetime, planting new flowers and making sure they thrive even in a nation such as Snezhnaya. When you first met the Captain, you never expected a man like him to have a hobby like this, but now that you knew, you found it endearing. Just one more thing that you adored about the man.

Capitano takes your hand into his and the two of you take a walk through the garden. He has been working on it for over a decade now and you can tell that he is proud of the result, especially when he gets to see that you find it beautiful and like to visit. After having relied on brute force in his profession for a long time and with the sheer strength Capitano had, it was difficult at first to tend to small, fragile beings such as plants. But everyone has to start somewhere right?

Capitano, being one of the strongest and also one of the most trusted harbingers, has been sent abroad on a mission in the name of the Tsaritsa countless times. An entire shelf in his bedroom is just filled with travel logs that you love to browse through on a relaxing day together like this. You’ll be snuggled up in his arms, skimming through the pages and letting Capitano explain the story behind the pictures he took and the paragraphs he wrote. It was like each time you did this, you learned another new thing to love about him. For someone who was sent into war and all kinds of mysterious dealings, Capitano’s travel logs were surprisingly ordinary. They included the food he had for dinner in a foreign nation, how he witnessed the locals dance at a festival and the natural phenomenons he wanted to make note of. Perhaps these were the things that stuck with him; the experiences he wanted to remember.

In the evenings, Capitano takes you stargazing. Throughout his lonesome strive across Teyvat, the stars had been his trusted companion. Therefore, he knew quite a lot about the constellations and how to use them to navigate. He’d be happy to explain it to you or just sit there with you in silence by the side of a campfire, watching as a shooting star trails across the sky. “Are you going to make a wish?”, you ask, smiling at him from the side. Capitano shakes his head and takes your hand into his. “I have everything I want for as long as I have you.”

If you ask Cyno to pick a date idea, you know full well where this is going. You could have just asked “which deck are you going to use for Genius Invokation TCG today?” because that will be what you’re going to be doing if you let Cyno pick. If you’re as enthusiastic about the game as he is, even better. 

The two of you could have a picnic or visit the tavern to play against other people, Cyno leaves that choice to you. He brings all of his cards, safely concealed within a limited edition Genius Invokation TCG card box, and you’re one of the only people who’s allowed to play with his most rare cards and the ones with a holographic layer. 

He may ramble about how he obtained them and how the intricate design is symbolic for xy plotline in King of Invokations, his favorite novel, but that’s just how he is. A joke here and there, a TCG novel quote thrown in; if you indulge him and encourage him he’s over the moon for you, although he’s making a (bad) attempt at keeping it together. 

If he plays against other people, he’s expecting you to back him up. Knowing you have his back and are cheering him on makes Cyno even more dedicated to win. “The strength you see now does not come from the fortune of my cards, but instead from within; a heart determined to not fail the loved ones who have put their trust in me”, Cyno’s expression becomes more serious as he puts his cards on the table in front of his opponents, “this is a quote from ‘King of Invokations’ that I have felt deeply the first time I read it.” You repress a chuckle and simply leave a kiss on his cheek before getting up to grab your drinks from the tavern counter.

“I believe I have earned myself a kiss”, Cyno smiles at you triumphantly after winning against the group of people he met at the tavern. “I don’t remember promising you one as a reward”, you tease and he smirks, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Well I suppose if you don’t want to, it can’t be helped-”

He’s unsurprised by how you pull him into your arms, locking your lips with his and burying your fingers in his soft white hair. Cyno smiles into the kiss, squeezing your hand gently. The way he reciprocates your gesture shows how much love he feels for you in this moment. 

Cyno only becomes more smitten the more you compliment him for his TCG strategies and his hard-won victories; feeling his heart beat faster as you trail a couple of light kisses down his neck. “I had no doubts you would win”, you smile against his soft skin and Cyno rests his forehead against yours. “Whether I win or lose, for as long as I am privy to your love, I will emerge from every duel victorious”, Cyno whispers and you laugh. “I can’t believe you’re still using King of Invokations quotes to flirt with me.” “They worked better back when you hadn’t read the novels yet”, he lets out a sigh, “it was the price that had to be paid for making you familiar with the lore around Genius Invokation TCG.” You chuckle and wrap an arm around his waist, nuzzling his cheek. “In turn, you can imagine my surprise when I read them for the first time and recognized some of the most memorable things you had said to me…tsk tsk, Cyno, you have to be more original.” Cyno takes your hand into his and looks into your eyes with an earnest look. “In my defense, I remembered them when I spent time with you and they happened to perfectly describe how I feel for you”, he explains before his lips met yours once more. 

Cyno spends the afternoon helping you improve your own Genius Invokation TCG playstyle and he shares some snacks ordered from the tavern with you. You can see that he’s passionate and enjoys every second of this date, even if he tries to play it cool. His still obvious excitement is enough of a reward for you, even if you don’t win the game.

Diluc keeps things classic when he plans a date with you. He’ll take a walk with you through Mondstadt, especially on days when the city hosts a market with fresh food and handmade crafts to look at while you enjoy a nice and sunny day in the City of Freedom. 

If you have your eyes on anything, Diluc might get it for you. He enjoys seeing the smile on your face when he hands the item to you. Diluc has more than enough Mora and if he can use it to add a little joy to your day? That’s all he could hope for. The cool summer breeze and bustling market reminds him of days long gone, when he’d go to the city with his father to promote the drinks created at Dawn Winery. If he’s feeling comfortable enough around you, he might even tell you about it.

“Ah, young Master Diluc…I haven’t seen you stop by in a while”, an older man calls out to Diluc as the two of you pass his stall, “and you must be y/n, right? I remember how quickly word spread throughout the town when it became official that Mondstadt’s richest bachelor had finally settled down. There were a lot of disappointed young ladies, let me tell you…” Diluc awkwardly chuckles and takes your hand in his. “This is Ralf. He’s been putting up this stall at least once a month ever since I can remember”, Diluc explains. The man laughs and turns to you. “You should have seen him when he was just a wee little lad. His father would always buy a bag of cinnamon curd balls for him and Cavalry Captain Kaeya at my stall and the two of them would fight over it as if it was their last meal on death row.” You chuckle at the image of Diluc and Kaeya having a brotherly quarrell over something as simple as baked goods. Although, imagining them as children, it seemed quite on brand for the two. “Ah, that”, Diluc runs a hand through his hair and looks up to the sky as he recalls the memories that seem so far out of reach by now, “looking back on it, it seems like such a trivial matter.”

As you leave through the city gates, Diluc holds your hand all the way back to the winery and if you ask him about it, he’ll tell you more about those simple days of the past when he’d visit the city on the weekends with his family; even smiling fondly at the memory despite the pain in his heart about the death of his father and the estrangement from Kaeya. You were glad your date together could make him recall the good aspects of those memories.

While you were out in Mondstadt, Diluc’s maids already prepared a nice candlelit dinner for the two of you. Diluc has informed them of what kinds of food you prefer and they will adjust the dishes according to your liking. Over a plate of regional food from Mondstadt, you and Diluc talk about all sorts of topics that have come up recently, and Diluc makes sure to also convey his feelings to you through his words more thoroughly than usual. As soon as you finished eating, Diluc sits down with you on the couch and lets you rest in his arms as you continue your conversation from the dinner table. The maids light up even more candles to provide for a romantic atmosphere and quiet instrumental music sounds from the record player. 

Diluc lets his hair down and lets out a sigh. On days like these he decides to let the Darknight Hero rest for a night. After all you deserve for the conclusion of your day together to be sleeping in his arms throughout the night. You rest your head on his shoulder and watch the calming flames of the fireplace as Diluc runs his fingertips up and down your arm. “I apologize if I haven’t spent as much time with you lately”, Diluc whispers and pulls you into a kiss, “please know that I missed you dearly and I love you with all my heart.” You peck at his lips a couple times before reassuring him that you already know. “I love you too, Diluc.”

If you decided to date the mad scientist who earns his wages by experimenting on people you should have seen that one coming but Dottore’s idea of date night includes sharing the research with you that he’s so passionate about.

He lets you pick the experiment. Is there anything you ever wanted to know about the human soul? Our behaviours and motivations? Or perhaps the powers of the gods? The truth of this world? Look no further, because your beloved Zandik is going to get you some answers to them through his rather….unconventional methods. After all, knowledge is the one thing he strives for above all else; and as such it shouldn’t be kept away from the person he loves as well. Whatever knowledge you seek to have, Dottore will happily help you to obtain it. 

“We don’t have all day, y/n. The experiment is scheduled to begin in a couple of minutes”, he sighs and reminds you to hurry up as you give your affection to at least five of his clones that passed you by on your way to the lab. They were always yearning for your attention; as Prime Dottore received most of it, and who were you to turn them down? “You were the one who thought it was a good idea to try and woo me when there’s at least 20 of you”, you tease and link your arm with the one he held out to you, “or are you getting jealous again?” 

Dottore doesn’t respond to your teasing and simply takes the elevator to the underground laboratory with you. He wraps his arms around you and looks into the mirror inside the elevator at how the two of you looked together. The fact that a man like him who had taken so many lives was now so adamant about protecting and nurturing just one brought a chuckle to his lips. “I thought you said that you cleared the lab out safe for your clones”, you remark, “don’t you think it’s time to take that mask off?”

Dottore indulges you and does as you say. You cup his face in your hands. “I still don’t understand why you’d hide a face this beautiful behind a mask”, you smile and press some soft kisses to the scars on his temple. Dottore’s lips meet yours and he wraps his arms tighter around you, unwilling to let go of you just yet. He kisses you passionately. Your fingertips are buried in the soft teal hair that falls into his neck and Dottore sighs into the kiss, no intention of ending it anytime soon. 

“I thought you said we don’t have all day?”, you smirk, pushing him back gently and leading him out of the elevator, “or is that only when I give affection to your segments?” “I’ll let you guess”, Zandik whispers into your ear and presses a kiss to your cheek before heading off the supply closet to get you your lab gear. He actually had it custom-made for you. He explains to you how to wear it properly, as lab safety is very important. “I’ve seen you come in here in a t-shirt and sweatpants”, you raise an eyebrow. “I’m experienced. Let it be of no concern to you. However, seeing you get hurt in my laboratory when the purpose of this day is to provide you with the knowledge you seek is the last thing I’d want.” 

He presses a kiss to your hands before he slips the protective gloves onto your fingers. 

Before beginning the experiment, Dottore lets you come up with your own hypothesis about the outcome. He’s curious to hear your thoughts and why you have this perspective on the experiment setup. He explains how he set up this particular experiment in response to your questions and lets you read the files of the test subjects. 

All in all, Dottore’s research of that day doesn’t differ too much from a regular work day as a Fatui Harbinger, yet he finds himself enjoying to have you around and sharing his findings with you. He makes a note to ask you whether you’d be interested in becoming his assistant permanently. 

Kaveh would love to take you out to the theatre to watch a play with you. He loves the atmosphere of the theatre; that he can forget about reality for a moment and just immerse himself in someone else’s story while also being led to think about the matter of the play in more depth. He wants to share this experience with you. 

Kaveh is the type to bring you flowers before your date. He knows quite a bit about the language of flowers and carefully selects those kinds that would best convey his feelings for you.

He gets nice seats at a table near the stage of Zubayr Theatre for you and brings some drinks and snacks from the nearest cafe or tavern. Before the play begins, Kaveh reads through the leaflet that Nilou had given to you about this new play that would premiere on the night of your date with Kaveh. “I must say, I am really interested in how the story is going to play out, based on the summary they’re giving here”, Kaveh tells you, “it’s always interesting to see the prompt first and wonder how they’re going to make this work with the costumes and props.”

He goes on to talk about how he’d be sure to help the theatre out if they ever needed any advice on architectural styles during a certain time period or needed some designs for their props; but they have yet to commission him. And of course he rants about how Alhaitham just can’t understand the beauty of the performing arts. “I’m glad you get it though”, Kaveh takes your hand into his as the play is about to begin. You sit closer to him so you’ll be able to rest your head on his shoulder or wrap his arms around his waist while watching the play.

Kaveh is mesmerized by what is happening on stage and sometimes quietly rambles about the design of the costumes or the ways the actors express the emotions of their characters. You smile at him fondly as he’s watching the play, brushing a strand of hair out of his face and finding it amusing how much he’s already lost in the fairytale being shown. Your touch distracts him for a moment and Kaveh turns his head to you and presses a kiss to your lips before returning his attention to the stage.

The two of you laugh and talk a lot on your way back home; discussing all the facets of the play. At the end of the day, Kaveh just wants to be alone with you for a bit and be held in your arms. Luckily Alhaitham isn’t home yet, so Kaveh can avoid any quarrels with his roommate. 

Kaveh rests his head on your chest and closes his eyes while you undo his hairstyle and run your hands through the strands on his head. He lets out a relaxed sigh and a smile finds its way to his face. “I love you so dearly”, he whispers and notices how warm your embrace feels. You press a kiss to his forehead. “I love you too, sunshine”, you chuckle and run your fingertips over the exposed skin of his back, which made Kaveh melt into your embrace and relax even more. 

You cup his cheek gently and kiss him, pouring all your love for him into the gesture. Kaveh wore his heart on his sleeve around you and you always knew how he felt about you. In turn, you only considered it natural to express your affections for him in the same way. Kaveh longs for someone who feels as deeply about something as him and will understand him and love him the way he is. Today was just another day to prove that finally someone does. 

You want to be taken out on a nice date? Well, look no further, because this man is going to go all out for you. Pantalone has all the riches in the world, as far as Mora is concerned, and why wouldn't he spend it on his dearest? It is said that the Regrator has a unique understanding of wealth and Mora is just one facet of that. After all, when it comes to love, isn't what we treasure most the memories with our loved ones? And if he can use his Mora to make this one the most memorable date you've ever been on; that's every reason not to be stingy with it.

It all starts with Pantalone joining you for dinner after his work for the day was done; pulling you into a loving kiss that made you drop whatever it was you were currently doing and just be close to him. Pantalone has always been affectionate with you, but with how clingy and appreciative he is today; you either suspect he had a bad day or just one of those days where his thoughts kept circling back to you and he missed you from the moment he left to the second he was reunited with you. Or perhaps it had to do with your anniversary that was approaching.

He pulls out a leaflet from his bag, putting it down on the table in front of you. You take a look at it, looking back up at him in confusion. "A tailor?", you question, still holding the advertisement in your hands. Pantalone nods. "I have recently met them in the city; their store is very new and quite exquisite. They will be here tomorrow to take a commission from the two of us. I have purchased an establishment in the far north and a ball will be held there on our anniversary. Please make sure to give the tailor a detailed description of the suit or dress you want to wear to it", Pantalone takes your hand into his and squeezes it gently, "please do not hold back. If you want there to be real diamonds on it, there's going to be real diamonds on it."

On the day of your anniversary, Pantalone procured a carriage with a portable heater to take you to your destination. Still, he makes sure to also keep you warm personally, holding you in his arms all the way. He kisses you deeply, pulling you into his lap as he showers you in his love and affection.

Pantalone has a nice suite prepared for the two of you in the luxurious building that the ball is being held in and upon arrival he asks you to change into the outfit that the tailor had prepared for you. "Do notify me when you're done and if you need any help, just call out to me."

However when you step out of the dressing room, Pantalone is nowhere to be found. Your questions are answered just a moment later as he enters the room again, wearing a custom-made luxurious suit and holding a bouquet of roses in his hand. "These are for you, my dearest", he kisses you cheek.

Upon entering the ballroom, you notice there isn't really anyone in it aside from the staff and the musicians that Pantalone hired to play your favorite songs. "Where are all the people?", you wonder. Your lover chuckles. "Darling, did you really believe I was going to put you through boring conversations with foreign emissaries and businessmen today?", he presses a kiss to your temple, then another to your cheek, then another to your neck, "no, this is just for the two of us."

"You're aware that you can just rent a location, right, you don't have to buy the whole thing every time?", you raise an eyebrow at him but let him indulge you. He gives you his signature smile with a hint of mischievousness. "Oh no, you misunderstood me, love, I had this built for you over the course of the last few months." "Wait what-"

Pantalone dances the night away with you and enjoys your favorite food with you that he hired famous chefs to make. If you want to sit down for a while or just kiss him and be in his arms, he's fine with that too.

"I love all of this, but why did we come so far out here for this date?", you ask as Pantalone takes your hand into his and gently rubs the back of it with his thumb. "Well, to top it off, once we're done dancing for the night, I'm going to take you to see the northern lights. They're quite beautiful, although they don't compare to you in the slightest", Pantalone pulls you into a hug, "and after that I'll have the staff prepare a nice bath for the two of us. How does that sound?"

Pantalone loves you with all of his heart and if he feels confident enough that you return his love in full....well there might just be another surprise waiting for you in the form of a diamond ring he brought along.

Tighnari's idea of a nice date includes a hike through the nature of Sumeru's rainforest. If you're not that into hiking, you don't have to go far and you can also walk as slowly as you wish to, Tighnari will adapt to you.

He prepared a picnic for you as well. Some of the food for it he bought at the tavern; a few of the items he made himself. Although….Collei definitely helped. 

The two of you eventually stop by a dock near the Apam Woods. “This seems like a good place to rest, don’t you think?”, Tighnari smiles at you and takes his shoes off; sitting down on the dock and letting his feet meet the cold but calming water of the creek while pulling some of the snacks out of his backpack. You sit down next to him. “There’s even a little house here with a cooking pot and a small table on a tree trunk….I wonder who built this here…it’s too small for a human”, you muse and look to Tighnari for answers. “Well, legends speak of an ancient race of small forest creatures connected to the Dendro Archon. Those small houses are scattered all over the rainforest. The people of Sumeru tend to say that they belong to the Aranara. Although I’m not sure how much truth there is to that”, Tighnari shrugs.

You decide for the baklava Collei made as a snack and lean back to let the sun shine on your face. “It’s nice here, isn’t it?”, Tighnari puts his hand over yours, “I just hope none of the adventurers happen to stumble upon me here and go ‘oh Forest Watcher, please help me; I put my hand inside of the mouth of a Rishboland Tiger and now my arm fell off; whatever shall I do?’ this time.” You grin and raise an eyebrow at him. “This wasn’t actually something that happened, right?”, you chuckle. “Kaveh calls that one ‘stylistic exaggeration’, if I recall correctly”, Tighnari laughs. “Fits perfectly with your usual sass”, you tease and your hand wanders to his ears, gently scratching one of them. 

“Collei wanted to make a bet with me how long it’s going to take you before you start doing this once we sit down somewhere”, Tighnari sighs, “she said about half an hour. I didn’t even give you 10 minutes.” You pout and reach for his other ear. “I know you like this and you’re so cute, so why shouldn’t I?”, you press a kiss to his cheek, “don’t tell me this still makes you flustered?” “Not anymore, no”, Tighnari affirms but you recall how his cheeks heated up and he stumbled over his words the first few times you did this. 

You enjoy your snacks together and get ready to move on but the weather has other plans as the rain pours down on you and your fox-like boyfriend. “I hope the Aranara doesn’t mind us using their house for a while”, you say as you enter the small structure. 

Tighnari quickly ends up snuggled against you with his head on your chest and you holding his ears because the thunder hurts in them. “Sorry this hike turned out like this”, he apologizes but you stop him. “It’s not like you can control the weather or something”, you chuckle and nuzzle his ear, “we’re still together right? So what’s the harm of a little rain?”

It all starts when Nilou asks for your help while preparing for a special theatre performance. The actors would all improvise the story based on a prompt that was given before. As Nilou already knew the prompt, she decides to prepare for a play centered around the idea of lovers celebrating their anniversary together. But given that she doesn’t have much experience with love, the two of you decide to go around and ask your acquaintances what their ideal date might look like.

As luck has it, you happen to run into the Wanderer at the Grand Bazaar. So what harm could there be in asking him for his thoughts on the matter as well, right? Although, a part of you decided to do this because of your growing feelings for him.

You quickly explain the situation with the play to him. “If you must know, I don’t care for the idea of a romantic affair. Lovey-dovey stuff and flirting is just a pointless waste of time and makes my skin crawl”, he scoffs, “besides, the notion of two people being bound to each other for eternity simply because of their feelings for one another is ridiculous. Even those endeavors end one day and even someone who claims to love you might leave if offered the right price. They tell you that you mean something to them and then one day you never see them again. There’s no use in pursuing love.” You let out a sigh, not sure what you were expecting for an answer instead of this. 

“Okay, great, now can we put your attitude aside for a moment?”, you roll your eyes, “just imagine you had someone you were in love with. What activities would be fun for you to do with them?” He sighs but muses that Nahida would probably scold him if she found out he didn’t help you with something as simple as an answer to a question. “Hmph. Fine. If I was to go on a ‘date’, I’d like to cook with them. The act of cooking together to produce the perfect meal feels much more intimate than any shallow flirting”, he answers.

“Oh that’s a nice idea!”, you respond before impulse gets the better of you, “we should cook together sometime-”

“Did you just ask me out on a date?”, he raises an eyebrow but blushes furiously. “Well, that depends on your answer, doesn’t it?”, you wink.

“I- I’m not necessarily against it”, he admits and crosses his arms in front of his chest, “ that is, if you can even cook properly.” He huffs and you let out a laugh. “Oh, whatever happened to ‘this is just a pointless waste of time and makes my skin crawl’, huh?”, you dramatically sigh, “if I recall correctly from what Yae Miko told me, in your homeland of Inazuma they refer to this as being a tsundere.” “I’m not-”, his blush darkens, “you should keep your mouth shut before I change my mind.”

Whatever happened to ‘love makes my skin crawl indeed, you think to yourself and smile as you watch the Wanderer carefully handle the ingredients for the meal you’re going to make. He explains every step of the recipe to you and you follow his instructions carefully.

When you accidentally cut your finger while cutting vegetables, Wanderer is at your side with disinfectant and bandaids in an instant. “What the hell are you doing? Are you incapable of cutting a couple of ingredients? You’re supposed to focus on the knive, why were you staring at my face instead?”, he fusses over you, pretending it was because he was annoyed with you. “Well…you’re pretty”, you quietly respond and he shakes his head and lets out a sigh. “You’re too much…” “Aw, you’re worried! If it calms you, you could kiss it better!”, you suggest, winking at him again. “Who do you think you’re talking to-?”, the blush is back on his face and he refuses to look you in the eyes.

“If you tell anyone about this, I’ll never trust you with anything again”, he mumbles a couple hours later after the two of you had finished your meal and he was sitting on your couch with you, snuggled close to you. “Oh, don’t worry, they’re going to know about it soon enough when some random stranger decides to flirt with me and you get jealous”, you tease. “You talk too much”, he scoffs and his lips meet yours in another gentle kiss. He didn’t tell you how he felt just yet, but his actions speak louder than words.

[ominis-g]

You have to move out of your dorm and Henry let's you stay in his guest room for the time being. After a few nights your bed stays empty because you found an even better place to sleep ...

This was a very good prompt. I plan to make a second part that is more... everything, but I feel like this is a good stopping point for the first part.

Notes: Narrator is a female, and it is implied to be before all the events of Richard's arrival. First person POV because it fits the vibes, but I can always change it. No use of narrator's name.

Summary: After some circumstances has Henry offer you his guest room for the interim, there is a snow storm incoming. No warnings, just a lot of fluff for this part.

Word count: 5 542

The main issue that I had with this place was not the frigid winters or the aloofness of some of its residents, but rather that it never seemed to change. The seasons would merge into each other so slowly that it was hard to pinpoint down precisely where and when they shifted, but I would be adjusting my wardrobe and habits along with the temperatures and until the winter break hit, it was the furthest thing from my mind. And upon return, what then? Heavy overcoats that cut off the view of everyone’s figures and forms and instead transformed the majority of the campus into some sort of shapeless blob until we went inside to the warmth. And then the cycle would begin again, slightly different schedules, different exams and essays, but it was the same.

And it was cold today, though the word hardly seemed sufficient. Vermont certainly had a way to cut through every piece of wool and cloth that I had layered on to stave off the biting wind. Classes were not set to begin for us for another couple of days, but here I was, shell-shocked after returning from home and its much warmer clime. My hands were still shaking as I poured myself a cup of coffee in the cafeteria, but there was not anyone around to notice. I went and sat by the window, despite its frost, because it was near enough to the radiator to offer some semblance of heat.

Hands wrapped around the heat, fingers tapping on the porcelain, I stared out of the window. I should have brought a book, or something to work on, but I had forgotten. It was still early, and the rest of the day laid before me. There was not much traffic, but there was enough people walking by to occupy my mind as I drank that cup, and then returned with a second. 

The tables were starting to fill, and so was the air with the sounds of the other students. No one greeted me, since I did not know any of them, and I did not care to. Surely my friends would be back today or the next, and we would spend the time out in the country or at the twins’ speaking all about our breaks and our adventures. Our communication had been through mostly calls when one of us had time, but for Henry, who preferred to write. My mother had found our correspondence for those two months endearing, but it was Henry. Most of his letters were filling me in on the entirety of the class’s misadventures, and the rest was complaining or contemplating something obscure.

I delayed returning to my dorm because I had that soft hope that I would see one of them go by the window, even Bunny, but there was no such luck this morn. I wrapped the scarf further and snugger around my neck and face to brave the chill once more. I made it to the stoop without incident, and was stomping the snow off of my boots when I heard a clamour from within. I stoop up on my tiptoes to see through the window, wondering if I should just make myself scarce, and just barely was able to get out of the way in time. Onto the ice, and slipping down into the snowy brush with sharp pains that made me hiss and grit my teeth, not aided by the slamming of the door. The wood wobbled violently on its hinges, and two large men were dragging out a third.

Their congruent yells were bouncing off of each other, but I was focused on disentangling myself from the brush and then wading awkwardly to the other side and back to the path to avoid all three. When I turned to return, I stopped in surprise. Bunny was there, looking disheveled and agitated and cursing at the retreating backs of his exilers.

“Bun?”

He looked over at me, then scoffed. “Did you see that–”

“What happened?”

I closed the space between us, quite a few paces, when I was sure that he was not about to lash out in his anger at me. 

“How was I supposed to know it was a girl’s dorm? She started screeching as soon as I turned the key and knob…” He trailed off, though his furied expression didn’t change. “Mixup in the office, or something.” His face only cleared when I began righting his coat, and he bent over obligingly to allow me to fix his hair, too. It was sticking up at odd angles from what was, no doubt, a very physical altercation. “Anyway, where am I supposed to go now?”

“Go back to the office, and tell them what happened,” I advised as he returned upright. “I am sure it was only a clerical error; just explain it coherently.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered. “You’re the most sensible of us, y’know?”

Hardly. 

I just smiled at him and brushed snow off of his shoulders. He gave me a cheeky wink and turned to walk towards the residential office. I watched him for a moment to be sure he was really going, considering following, before deciding against it and just returning to my room.

—----------------------------------------------

I spent the rest of the morning unpacking, since I had done so little the night before. I had gotten in late, and was simply thankful that someone had been in the office to give me back the key to my room. I had emptied it, of course, and now I was arranging my books on the shelves for something to occupy me. I was bent over my trunk for another armful when there was a knock on the door. Heavy-handed, not polite. I had a sinking feeling it was Bunny.

I answered it anyway. He pushed his way in past me, dragging a suitcase along with him. I frowned at this, but closed the door so no one else could see. “Did it not go well–”

“Hell no,” he complained. He dropped the suitcase heavily on the floor and began pacing through the small space, barely avoiding where I was still unpacking. I returned to the books, waiting for more. “They’re trying to sort it all out, all the other rooms are filled–”

“Have you tried Henry?”

He shook his head. “No answer, and his car’s not in the drive. When was he supposed to be back?”

“Last time he wrote, he said it would be about the same time as me, and I got back last night. Maybe he will come today. Francis? The twins?”

“Boston.” He sat heavily on my bed, and just watched me work for a few moments. “But you’ll not kick me out into the cold, right? I can stay here?”

“You know that I am not supposed to…” I trailed off, glancing over at him, and he really looked in that moment like a big, blond puppy. “You just have to be careful. I am sure one night breaking the coed rule will not hurt, and tomorrow everything will be fixed.” He grinned immediately. “But you sleep on the floor.”

The smile faltered, but then he shrugged. He laid down in my bed, boots hanging off the edge, and continued to watch me unpack. “I thought you’re neater.”

“I just started working.” 

Bunny found gum from the depths of his pockets and began chewing loudly. I tried to ignore him as I finished the books, and the silence otherwise was not even peaceful. My irritation finally got the best of me after arranging my desk, and decided I needed a break. 

I headed downstairs for the phone. I rang Henry first, and immediately. My fingers tapped impatiently on the wall as I listened to the rings, glancing up the stairs to be sure that Bunny was not about to catch me trying so desperately to be rid of him.

Finally, he answered. “Hello?”

“It’s me. When did you get back?”

“I haven’t even unpacked. I heard the phone from the door.” Blissful, perfect timing. “You can come by.”

“I have a different issue,” I answered quietly, glancing up at the stairs again. “Bunny.”

He lit a cigarette, the match’s sound distinctive even over the gravelly phone. “What did he do now?”

“There was some sort of mixup, and his dorm is nonexistent. He is currently squatting in mine.”

“I can’t have him here again.” I let out a sigh, hand from the wall to my forehead, eyes closing in abject horror at the prospect of spending any sort of time alone with Bunny. “What did the office say?”

“They are working on it, but…”

I did not need to continue. Henry caught it all and finished the thought. “I have the guest room. Grab some things, and you can stay there until it’s sorted.”

“Should I tell him?”

“Just say you’re staying elsewhere, to allow him privacy. I will see you in a few.”

We hung up, and I began the walk up to my room again with a sense of dread. It was not like Bunny was going to believe that. Maybe I could say I was going to opt for the hotel, so we would not get in trouble and get us both kicked out. He would believe that.

Bunny tried in a light way to offer to go to a hotel instead, but there was not any real heart behind it. I insisted that he not worry, and he just thanked me with a smile and got more comfortable on my bed. My clothes were still securely in their suitcase, maybe a little rummaged through that I tried to ignore, and placed on top a few books for classwork, and some supplies from my desk. I left Bunny the key, and he promised not to leave it unlocked and let me get burgled. It was something, at least.

The suitcase was heavy, but nothing I could not handle. Why were Classics books so massive? I huffed my way quickly down the stairs, eager to get through the door and away before Bunny could come up with some reason why I should stay in that tiny room with him.

Henry, bless him, was waiting. He was lounged against his car, smoking, still in his travelling clothes, but when he saw me he opened the trunk. I heaved the suitcase in, closed the trunk, and joined him in the warmth of the car. He offered me one of his Lucky Strikes, which I took and lit as he drove off. I recounted the entire morning’s events with our windows rolled down just enough to let out the smoke but not the heat, and though he glanced at me, he did not comment until I was finished.

“I know why he lives in the dorms, but why do you?”

“Convenience, mainly. I suppose I could rent somewhere, but if it is too far I would have to get a car, and that is a lot of extra steps for something so easily solved by living in the dorms.”

“You mentioned in a letter that your mother would prefer if you lived off-campus.” I frowned at him and his damned memory, letting out a steady cloud of smoke. He glanced at me, then shook his head with the hint of a smile. “Something about not wanting you to get mixed up in the party culture.”

“What she does not know will not hurt her.”

“So, you told her about the class.”

“Nothing specific. I spoke of you all as friends, though your letters did spark more inquiries.” He made an amused noise. “What?”

“Did she read any of them?”

“She does not know Latin. Of course, that just made her think of the whole correspondence as romantic. I had to correct her more than once, but after about a dozen times, I gave up.”

He was quiet. He pulled into the drive and shut off the car without a word, and I watched him get out with the air of a statue. I took the last pull from the cigarette and stepped to the snow as well, throwing the butt into the pile that someone had shoveled the snow from the drive into. I retrieved my suitcase from the trunk opened by Henry, but he was already at the door and unlocking it. I hurried to follow, knocking the snow off my boots hastily.

I had offended him. I set down the suitcase, unwinding my scarf and watching him flip through the waiting mail without expression. I hung up my overcoat in the closet, right beside the mail table. “Did you correct her for any particular reason?” He finally wondered.

“My mother is quite the romantic, and insists that I should be as well. She would have been insufferable if I had done any less. I was quite glad to return, to get out of there, actually.”

“There is something of romance in communicating through letters,” he mused, but he was still looking through the mail, and I was facing the closet, trying to get my scarf to hang right with my coat. “I took joy in it. Did you?”

“Yes.” He did not say anything more, so I followed up: “It really was just for my sanity. I did not need her dragging out her wedding albums or something.”

“That’s understandable.”

Henry abandoned the mail back to the table, and was beside me to hang up his coat as well. I could not think of anything else to say, because what was there to say? He did the task in silence and then he showed me to the guest room. When he left to go unpack himself, I checked the folding bed to be sure it was locked so I could make it up with the provided bedclothes in peace. I unpacked my few books and supplies, but left the rest in the suitcase.

I brought my literature book, a notebook, and pen with me when I ventured outwards again. I sat down in the kitchen, and that is where Henry found me. He had changed, and he set down his own work on the opposite side of the table before going to make some tea. It was mainly for me, though he poured himself a cup as well, and for quite a while we worked in silence.

A thick gust of wind broke us from the concentration some time after noon, and I frowned at the sound of the impending storm. He did not look up from his work, though I was considering the way the snow was blowing from its resting places out the window. “You’re safe here. Steady as a rock, this house.” His fountain pen rose from paper, and he joined me in looking at the weather. “We could do with some supplies, though. Would you mind running out?”

I did not mind. I needed the break anyway. He dictated to me a short list of what to be sure to get at the grocery while I did up my snow boots again. It did not take me long, despite all of the other people there at the store, and on the way home I turned on the car’s radio to find the weather report. Well, no wonder the store had been packed and the shelves half-empty. There was a snowstorm set to hit the following day, just in time for everyone to come back to Hampden.

Henry helped me in putting all of the supplies away, mostly food for us to make, and I had made sure to pick up snacks for myself. He inspected the package of cookies instead of putting them on the shelf inside the cabinet, where he had placed my mixed nuts and sugary cereal. “You actually eat these?”

“They are good,” I assured him, working on rearranging the fridge to hold the milk. “And if the power goes out, I will not want to bake.”

“I forgot you bake,” was all he replied, and went back to the task. “I haven’t heard you talk about baking since last year.”

“Since we were speaking about bakeries in Rome–”

“And the differences in the various Greek cities,” he agreed, leaning against the counter to light a cigarette. He placed the pack back onto the table, so I sat down to light one myself. “If you had access to a kitchen, would you bake while here at Hampden? I’m sure Charles would appreciate it.”

“I suppose so.” I watched him check the cabinet where I had put in fresh flour, baking soda, and sugar. Everything he had had from before the break was stale, or empty. “Bread, or sweets?”

“Perhaps a bit of both; we could try to recreate some breads that the ancients would have enjoyed.”

“We would have to go outside Hampden to find the flours and grains.”

This did not seem to bother him. He closed the cabinet and returned to standing as he had been, pondering the end of his cigarette. “True. It would be a worthy endeavour.”

“Are you offering your kitchen for my use?”

He focused instead on taking in a long drag. He had let it out before he said simply, “yes.”

I smiled, but I do not think he noticed. He was too engrossed in how absolutely fascinating his dwindling cigarette was. “What do you want for supper?”

The unspoken tension in the air loosened as we made a very simple meal of roast chicken and vegetables together. Neither of us were skilled cooks, but once he had given his opinion and the bird was in the oven, Henry returned to his work. I pondered the empty counters, the time remaining, and then made us a small batch of biscuits to go along with it. His smile returned when he smelled them; I doubt he even clocked that I was making them before that, or maybe he did and had only been looking when my back was to him.

Henry lit a few candles as the sky darkened, but even as we ate he seemed utterly unbothered; I, on the other hand, was constantly glancing out the window to judge the intensity. It was not terrible to be trapped inside of this apartment with him, but being trapped anywhere did not appeal to me, and especially not the rigid frigidity of snow. Vermont.

We started drinking after supper, and he and I put away our work. We sat on his sofa instead, him swirling his glass of whiskey as he read aloud to me in his flowing Greek any passage that caught his fancy. I played solitaire on the table as I listened, the flicker of the candlelight and the rattle of the radiators offering a very welcome ambiance that almost allowed me to forget the blizzard’s noises outside. 

—-------------------------------------------------

Even with the liquor in me, the bed was still uncomfortable. I knew it was far more preferable than listening to Bunny’s snoring and bothering that was sure to have come had I stayed, but in the depths of sleeplessness, I could only think about how much it was uncomfortable. When we had said good night to each other, Henry had offered in a polite way to switch beds, but I had brushed off the gesture as not necessary. Besides, he needed the better bed.

I was up early, but of course Henry was awake before me. He had made coffee, so I poured myself a cup and went to find him. He was sitting in his room with the door open, working– as usual. I paused there at the threshold with the storm’s sounds drowning out everything else, watching him at his desk. His chair was slightly inclined to the door, like he had expected me to find him like that, but he was bent over some large book and did not even look up. I waited, sipping at my coffee, until he finished whatever he was reading before I knocked on the open door softly.

“Come in,” he invited, and so I did. I sat down in his armchair, and my presence seemed to remind him of his coffee cup. He sat back to nurse it, eyes moving over the splay of papers on his desk before his attention turned to me. “How did you sleep?”

“I think the storm kept me up.” He nodded knowingly. “What of you?”

“Well enough. It is good to be back in my own bed.” He paused with the cup raised up as if to take a drink. “Which I’m sure you’ll be soon enough.”

“I will make sure to wash the sheets.” He smiled, and did finally take a sip of his coffee. My fingers tapped at the porcelain softly. “What if they are unable to figure it out?”

“Then you’ll stay here. We can go get the rest of your things.” It was stated matter-of-factly, as if the answer had been obvious. 

“I do not wish to impose on you–”

“I don’t mind your company.”

I hid the unease behind my mug. I could not pinpoint it, not exactly– was it the fear of Bunny staying for the term in my dorm, or the fear of him not? Was it rather the prospect of seeing Henry daily– more than I already did– and him maybe growing irritated by my presence? “I have never had a roommate.”

“You only have to be more agreeable than Bunny, and I would like to think I am as well.”

“It was a very pleasant day yesterday.”

“It was; relaxing, even, which is just what we needed before classes begin.”

He was not relenting, or maybe I was just too inexperienced at skirting around difficult questions. “Are you not worried you will tire of me?”

His brow rose, and with his hair slightly mussed from the early hour, it threw his scar into sharp relief. “No.”

“At all?”

“This is all and entirely hypothetical, but if we follow the thought through: no, I do not see myself growing tired of you. Disagreements, annoyances, on both of our parts, but that’s normal. We both have schedules beyond the Greek class, and the only difference would be seeing each other like this, before we retire, and for more meals than usual. That’s hardly an unseemly amount of difference.” He rose to find his cigarettes, and I considered him, his words, and his craving for nicotine. We were both quiet until he was shaking out the match. “The only conflict I could see arising is if you took some beau.”

I blinked slowly at the words, because they were not what I was expecting, especially from him. We had never spoken about it before, whether by design or by happenstance, I was not sure. “Why?”

“Coming home at all hours– or not at all– and I would have to meet the poor fellow, wouldn’t I? Then there’d be another person in the house with us, and when our friends come over, it’s already too many.” He leaned over to knock off some ash in his over-filled ashtray. “Unless you already have one. Back home, perhaps?”

“No; I am sure it would make my mother very happy, but no. You and Julian and everyone have completely monopolised my time. Well– and classes, of course. Family obligations…” I trailed off, because he was smiling. “Well then– you, same question.”

Henry actually laughed, waving away the question along with smoke in the air. “No, no.” I sighed over my coffee. “Who would it be? Surely no one else but our group could keep my interest, or for long. I’m too busy to look elsewhere.” He said it casually, but my eyes narrowed at his wording. He was focused on his cigarette again, though still smiling. “Say, how did it look outside?”

“Are you changing the subject?”

He ignored me, carrying his mug and cigarette with him to go into the main room. I had to force my face to clear before I joined him, draining the last of my coffee. He was standing at the window, looking out at the snow that was moving blurringly fast, almost surreal with the orange glow from the street lamps. “It seems a perfect day for translations.”

“Until the heat goes out.”

“Good thing that you’re here, then.” I wrapped both of my hands around the mug, trying very hard not to think about it. “Why don’t you get your work and we can relax in my room? It’ll be more comfortable than the kitchen.”

I pulled on a sweater as well, and sat there in his armchair eating a bowl of cereal noisily. I wanted to see if he would admit that I would annoy him, but he genuinely did not seem to mind and was utterly focused on his work. I refilled both of our coffees when I was done, and he murmured a thanks as I replaced it back onto his desk. I had my book for a literature class to read, so I lounged in the chair with a candle on the table beside it to slog through.

The power went out some time around noon, which I only discovered when I went to get something for lunch. I made two sandwiches and poured myself a glass of milk, wondering how long the power would be out, and worried it would spoil. I set his plate down onto his desk, and he started as if from a trance. He sat back to rub at his eye under his glasses, and I retreated to my chair.

“Power is out.”

“Inevitable,” he returned, examining the sandwich briefly before taking a bite. He finished the whole thing without speaking; he had not eaten breakfast. “As long as the gas stays on, we should have heat.”

We returned to our silent work. I left and came back to his room a few times, to get different books, to get a notebook, but he did not comment. I stopped at the window each time, but the house besides his room was completely dark; I could no longer see the street lamps, or any semblance of life outside of his walls. 

Henry had found I had moved to the floor to spread out and take notes for an essay over his rug when he finally rose. He must have gotten up more than that, simply to relieve himself, but this time was different. His head tilted as he looked over my work. “Comfortable?”

“Your carpet makes a wonderful desk, as big as I need.”

“You’re more than welcome to get your own desk.” I turned over to my back, eyes up his form with a smile for him. “Hypothetically, of course.” It was a very good view. He was still dressed as Henry, but he wore a sweater as we had no where to be or anyone else to see today. His hands slid into the pockets of his trousers, perhaps to shift them so I could see nothing from that angle but for the fold of the cloth. 

“Then how would we work together?”

“True,” he conceded, but he still looked thoughtful. His head turned, considering his desk, and I got a new angle for his features, the hair shadowing his eye, everything. “Maybe a large table, or two desks pushed up together, so we could work face-to-face.”

“Or I could continue to lay siege to your carpet.” He smiled. “Batter your desk’s defences–”

“Watch out for the hot wax,” he broke in. “Terrible for your troops, and my men are far from sitting ducks.”

I laughed lightly, and he met my smile. He then offered me his hands, and though I did hesitate, I was always going to take them. I sat up enough so my hands could meet his, slide into the warmth, and he stepped to the side as he helped me up. What could I say? There was a moment with our fingers still on each others’ wrists and palms, and us standing closer than I think we had ever stood before. I could feel his warmth, not just through the touch but through the mite space between us, could smell the ink, the coffee, the smoke and all the different scents from the house that made it so distinctly Henry.

I looked up at him in that brief interlude, and our gaze held together for the duration. My lips parted, raking my brain for something to say– did I even want to say anything? I took in a breath.

“Let’s take a break,” he said, not unkindly. His hands slid back, and so I withdrew mine as well, our fingertips lingering for a further second before he looked away, and then went to find his Lucky Strikes. I felt flush, my sweater suddenly sweltering, so I welcomed the walk out of his warm little room and into the main room. He did not bother to light any candles, using the cherry of his cigarette to guide him if he needed it, and then mine as well. 

Henry made a displeased noise when he stopped at the window, hand up to see if he could wipe away the obstruction, but no: that was snow plastered onto the windows and turning to ice. Despite the radiators rattling eerily, it was definitely colder out here than in the room we had been occupying, proof of just how cold and dreary it was outside of those walls.

“We’ve been keeping my room warm,” he noted, cigarette to his lips and squinting through the smoke.

“I might stay the entire night in there,” I returned in a light tone. He looked to me through the smoke, perhaps trying to determine if I was jesting or not. “I would not wish either of us to freeze to death.”

“And who knows if the heat will remain throughout the night,” he agreed in the same kind of tone, so I was the one questioning the meaning. “Just another reason why– hypothetically– you’d be the ideal roommate.”

“Is it still hypothetical?” He smiled around his cigarette, and for a moment we just smoked in silence. “Even if it is, I could not spend the entire term on that foldout bed.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to. Still, you should have your own space, even if you shared mine on frigid nights such as this one.” He turned from the dark window for the couch, sitting down upon it and finally lighting a candle. He poured us each a drink, and he handed it to me as I joined him. “Of course, if you wished, you could get a bed of your own choosing, should you not want to share mine nightly.”

“Do you snore?”

“I don’t think so. Do you?” 

I shook my head. “Just while ill.”

“I think that’s everyone,” he mused, relaxing beside me with the ashtray between us. “I don’t blame you, by the way. Even if it wasn’t coed, I would not want to be stuck in such a small space with Bunny for an undetermined amount of time, and he does snore.”

“I do not mind him usually,” I replied, snuffing out my cigarette so I could focus on that glass of whiskey. “But the entire thing made me nervous. He is not the quietest person, not to mention how it would look when we were inevitably found out, even with him sleeping on the floor–”

“He would have guilted you into giving up your bed, or sharing–”

“Precisely, hence the anxiety.”

He was quiet as he considered that, and our previous words. “And I don’t make you anxious in that way?”

“No, and if you did, I could simply return to my own bed. I did not have anywhere to go with him there.” He made a curious noise into his glass. “And, you and I, we have a different… relationship.”

“We do.” It was such a short and simple statement that I waited for more. Anything more, really. He had finished his drink before it came. “Mutual respect, and you don’t impose yourself anywhere.”

“I try not to.”

“And if I had denied you, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” He set down his glass to pour himself another finger, and then two. He offered the bottle to me, so I held out the glass so he could refill mine as well. “Hypothetically or not, I’m not doing that.” The bottle was down, and I still without words. He returned to relax beside me, swirling the whiskey around thoughtfully, perhaps waiting for me to say something. 

“Thank you,” I finally managed. It made him smile. “But I also do not want things to be awkward if–”

“We’re both adults here, and we are friends. Quid enim mali accidere potest?”

“Sic transit gloria mundi.” He shook his head, holding back laughter before it was out in a chuckle into his glass. “I meant more that we will endure as friends even if anything romantic does not. No need to imply the end of the world as we know it.”

I shrugged and took a long drink. “I could not bear it.”

“Then let us be sure that we endure.”

A/N: Any glaring errors, please let me know!

[in1-nutshell]

I know your on a break from requests but I don’t want to forget this one, so I’m just gonna leave it here till your back to taking requests ☺️

The butts and cons reacting to An adult buddy who is an archeologist and actively studies and learns the cybertronian language and history. A buddy who is in charge of a team that travels around the world too study history. And she has studied the cybertronian language so much that she can read and write it, she can sort of speak it aswell.

I can’t stop thinking about this, especially because I love the idea of a certain archivist (Optimus) and archeologist/historian buddy having little knowledge sharing conversations…..possibly romance 😏

But you do you boo

Tried going for a pre romantic vibe for this one. Optimus deserves a friend to just be himself around. Introvert to introvert levels of friendship. Lets see how Buddy navigates their friendship with Prime.

Hope you enjoy!

Human Buddy the archivist and who studies Cybertronian culture with Optimus Prime

SFW, slight romantic, platonic, Human reader

Buddy was an archivist that worked alongside Agent Fowler. They met while they worked as a former spy for the government that retired that life to pursue their passion.

They met the bots with him.

“Autobots. I’d like you to meet a friend of mine that will be working with you. This is former agent Buddy.”--Fowler

“Why bring us a former agent, Agent fowler?”--Ratchet

“Because ratchet, they are in charge of learning about your culture and in charge of helping you all learn about Earth’s culture.”--Fowler

“…Are they okay?”—Bulkhead

Buddy staring intently at Optimus’s frame.

“What do you—Buddy, Buddy no—”--Fowler

Buddy locking eyes with Optimus.

Optimus locking optics on Buddy.

Both-- Introvert radar on: Potential Friend spotted.

“Well good luck with that. See you all in 5.”--Fowler

“Wait what do you mean? Agent? Agent!”--Ratchet

It was Budy’s job to get to know the giant aliens more. They would be lying if they said they didn’t enjoy learning about the bots culture. They had gotten to know the members of the misfit team through the years. Sure, it did lead to some misadventures along the way, especially when the kids came along…

“Beeep? (Buddy, can I ask you a question?)”—Bumblebee

“Sure Bee! What’s your question?”—Buddy

“Beeep bep bop? (What does ‘babygirl’ mean? I heard Miko saying that to Jack.)--Bumblebee

“… Where’s Miko?”—Buddy

Despite this, they especially hit it off with Optimus.

Buddy seemed to have awaken Orion Pax from time to time with their thirst for knowledge.

Prime and Buddy by the screens looking at Iacon records.

“By the Primes…”--Ratchet

“What is it?”--Arcee

“I think I know why Agent Fowler said, ‘good luck’.”--Ratchet

“Why? They seem to be fine? What harm is that?”—Arcee

“Do you think it’s in section 3ab part 4 sub article 15?”—Buddy

“No, maybe in section 3.4 ab part 5 sub article 16?”—Optimus

“Oh, true maybe its—“--Buddy

“There’s two of them now.”--Ratchet

The Prime is more than happy to share his planet’s culture alongside the rest of the team. But those moments are usually reserved for the two of them.

It was their thing.

Soon enough the kids and June came into the picture.

Buddy wasn’t going to lie and say it was easy to explain their job to them. But the sight on their faces when they would go in depth about a certain topic was priceless. It was always nice to have someone interested in this line of work.

“You know you can ask Bulkhead about this stuff, right?”--Buddy

“That’s right you can ask me about stuff.”--Bulkhead

“Yeah but some of the stuff you weren’t there and Buddy is pretty much a walking wiki page on Cybertronian history.”--Miko

“I’m not sure whether to take that as a compliment or not? But thank?”--Buddy

“If you want history why don’t you ask Ratchet or Prime?”--Bulkhead

“I want a quick story not a university lecture.”--Miko

Now, did all this knowledge make them a bit bias about the war.

Yes, yes it did.

But Buddy wasn’t blind in the way stories go.

They secretly want the Cons input on the war and their beliefs. They have lost count of the number of times they have stood up for the bots against other humans.

The worst one came from June after she tried to take the kids away from the base and blaming the bots for letting them get hurt on their watch.

“June stop that right now!”--Buddy

“Why! They let the kids get hurt on their watch!”--June

“I understand your concern but let them off the hook a little okay!? They don’t have optics in the back of their helms you know!”--Buddy

“They still—”--June

“We are at war June! Whether you want to open your eyes to it or not! People are going to get hurt. No one can promise a safe return… no one can. So, for the love of Primus, June, shut it.”--Buddy

Optimus never saw the fury in Buddy’s eyes than in that moment. Nonetheless he is a bit grateful for them standing up while he tries to take that blame. The team does let Buddy know they appreciate them.

Buddy did get kidnapped one day by Megatron himself.

By the time the planned hostage negotiations were going to happen, Megatron had gotten a hit of nostalgia. It came in the form of his tiny hostage.

“So, you’re Megatron?”--Buddy

“Yes, I am. Now—”--Megatron

“Oh finally! You have no idea how long I’ve actually wanted to meet you.”--Buddy

“…What—”--Megatron

“I have so many questions to ask you and your cause.”--Buddy

“You want to know about the Decepticon cause?--Megatron

“Yes! I mean, I know pretty much what the autoboots have had to say, I want to know the war from your causes point of view. For example, how did it start? From what I heard, you wanted to bring a new change for your fellow Cybretronian were things were going to be better for everyone. And, not to embarrass you or anything, but I quoted some of your earlier works—”--Buddy

Megatron now looking at a smaller Orion Pax talking about his works.

“… Pax.”--Megatron

“I—what?”--Buddy

“You’re designation now is Pax.”--Megatron

“Oh I guess—”--Buddy

“Come with me Pax, I have plenty of Decepticon data pads that you can look over.”--Megatron

“Okay!”--Buddy

Megatron couldn’t bring himself to destroy the fleshy. They were an organic replica of how Orion Pax was before the war. Dare he say it, but he missed the smaller bot he once knew and grew to call brother. He can’t do it.

“Lord Megatron, may I be so bold—”--Starscream

“You may not.”--Megatron

“—as to ask you why the organic is doing with that data pad?”--Starscream

“They wanted to learn more about our cause, isn’t that right Pax?”--Megatron

“I finished with this one, may I have another one?”--Buddy

“Of course, Soundwave.”--Megatron

Soundwave passes another data pad to ‘Pax’.

“Thank you!”--Buddy

“…Did you name the organic Pax?”—Starscream

“Is that a problem Starscream?”—Megatron

“Of course not—“—Starscream

“Then silence. Come now Pax.”--Megatron

“All right then. Bye Soundwave! By Starscream!”—Buddy

“…What in the Pits…”—Starsceam

Megatron didn’t want to seem like a weakling to his army, so he decided to do the hostage video but as soon as he got what he came for, to split with Pax.

Optimus was furious to hear about Megatron’s negotiations and that he had Buddy. Everyone was angry and ready to get Buddy back. Prime is considering the possibility of cutting off more than Megatron’s arm this time around.

Everyone goes to the location where Megatron said the negotiations would be held.

Its to everyone surprise to see Buddy come out of the ground bridge with a little bit of scratches here and there.

“Buddy!”--Everyone

“Hey! How’s everyone?”--Buddy

“How did you escape?”--Ratchet

“Oh, I didn’t.”--Buddy

“You did not?”--Optimus

“No, actually I managed to strike a deal with ol’ Megs. I get to go back to you on the condition that I return to the Nemesis every month or so. And before you say anything, no details from either side.”--Buddy

“Well, we’re just happy your back.”--Bulkhead

Later…

“Hey Optimus.”--Buddy

“Yes?”--Optimus

“I didn’t know that Megatron had a soft spot for nerdy archivists.”--Buddy

“… Apparently he does.”--Optimus

“What are you guys talking about?”--Miko

“Lecture work.”--Buddy

[gabessquishytum]

HI GABE recently my brother's choir presented "Carmen" and the 1800s' sexism of it all made me a little mad, so here I am, taking it for inspiration and making it Gay™ so that I can fecking go to sleep without fuming lol

Dream is someone who likes to party and knows how to have a good time - he dances from lover to lover without much care for "permanence". He frequents most of the bars and clubs around London, knows most of the people working on these places, he does drugs, does people, and most of the regulars knows him and his ways: you can have him for a single night and be happy for it, but do not try to wish for more than that.

Enter Alex, who had recently lost his father and broken up with his secret boyfriend of a couple years, and is trying to go out more and explore his sexuality, and has the misadventure of having his first one night stand be Dream. Needless to say, he becomes obsessed and tries repeatedly to have Dream's attention for himself, following him around the bars and clubs, insinuating himself in conversations, and when eventually he gets banned from most places, he starts waiting for Dream outside.

Hob, on the other hand, as a regular in a couple of the clubs Dream frequents, has known of him for a while but never tried to tap that, no matter how tempting he looks. They exchange a few words here and there but Hob wishes for things more permanent than a single night, and with the way he falls hard and fast, he knows having Dream once and never again would break his heart.

Things come to a head when Alex and two men try to corner Dream when he's leaving with his partner of the night - it's late and dark and the partner dips the moment it's clear the men are there for Dream only, and Alex still tries to reason with Dream to give them a chance, but when Dream refuses and calls him crazy, he orders the men to grab him and throw him inside the car, and Dream is frantic trying to get away from them—

And Hob appears out of nowhere like an avenging angel with three more guys, punching the man closer to Dream in the face and throwing his entire body against the other one, his friends holding them on the ground while the police is called. Alex unfortunately escapes during the brawl like the coward he is.

After that a new normal is stablished - Dream agrees to let Hob accompany him and the partner of the time their place if it's close enough, or just standing outside with them until their cab arrives. They start talking during these walks/waits, developing a friendship neither of them expected. Dream shares about the parts of his life he keeps separated from his night persona, Hob shares about his ex-wife and time of homelessness, and I don't know if I want to make the end Carmen Canon, make Dream bleed out on Hob's arms after Alex stabs him (don't worry, he gets better lol) or just make them develop a relationship where Dream still does as (and who) he pleases but this time with Hob by his side, while Alex goes back to Paul, the only person who seems to have the patience to deal with him, and begs his ex to take him back

We must always gay-ify the classics, if we can! It makes them so much better!

I feel like as per Carmen canon, it would be right to have Alex attempt to murder Dream in a jealous rage! He's seen that Dream is growing closer to Hob, and although they may still be sleeping with other people, it's entirely clear that they love each other deeply. They're friends, confidants, maybe even soulmates, and Hob seems to understand Dream so perfectly. Alex can't bear the idea of Dream loving anyone else, so he decides that Dream must die. If Alex can't have him then no one can.

Hob wishes that he was the one dying as he holds Dream in his arms, begging for the ambulance to arrive sooner, before it's too late. Dream is so thin and pale anyway, but with the blood-loss he seems even more vulnerable. Hob wants nothing more than to give his own life for Dream, but all he can do is try to keep him warm and stem the bleeding. He prays that Alex's aim was bad, and that the knife didn't hit anything vital. He practically shakes Dream to keep him awake. Promises him that everything will be alright.

In the hospital where he finally wakes up, Dream has vague recollections of Hob’s lips pressing against his skin. He's pretty sure that there was an "I love you" somewhere along the way. And Hob is still right beside him, asleep in the tiny hospital chair.

Dream loves his freedom, his transience and his ability to chose whatever person or people he fancies every night. But it also occurs to him that he really loves Hob. And maybe, the two things can exist together. Why shouldn't be have everything?

One thing is for sure - Alex is lucky that he's going to prison, because Hob would gladly kill him, if he had the chance.

[fuctacles]

Henderson's-brother-centered misadventures continue [Part IV]

[Part I] [Part II] [Part III]

Eddie screamed. Then, he screamed some more. Then, he got hit with a teddy bear, which bounced off into the floor, barely disturbing his mane of hair.

“You get a drop of spit on my pillow, and you’re washing all my sheets!”

He groaned, like a wounded animal. If animals could be wounded by their best friend’s disloyalty.

“No, dude! You can scream into your own fucking pillow! We can jam if you need, smoke or steal a beer, hell, I can even listen to you. But don’t just come here to stink my room with-” Gareth made a flapping motion in Eddie’s general direction. “Whatever this is.”

Eddie groaned louder before finally rolling onto his back.

“I fucking hate him.”

“I was hoping you’d choose jamming,” Gareth sighed. He threw his leg over his chair and leaned on the back of it. “You mean Big Bro Henderson?”

“Who else?” Eddie threw his hands up into the ceiling. His friend barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes. “He’s the most annoying person I’ve ever met!”

“Good thing you can’t meet yourself, then.”

Eddie glared at him, but from this angle, it gave him a double chin which severely decreased the look’s efficiency.

“You calling me annoying?”

“Yes.”

“I think the word you’re looking for is ‘lively’. Or ‘charismatic’! Or, or, ‘non-conforming’!”

“No, I’m pretty sure ‘annoying’ is the word. Also, ‘dramatic’.”

Eddie glared again, but since his position has not changed so hasn’t its lack of impact.

“How dare you,” he seethed. Gareth completely ignored it.

“So, what did he do this time? Give you more cookies?”

“No!” He had regretted the decision to tell him about it as soon as it left his mouth, but it was out there now. Well, the price of the blackmail material was listening to it first. “He just…” Eddie trailed off, realizing what he was about to say. ‘He let me sit in his lap for the whole length of Karate Kid’ was so much harder to explain than ‘he gave me an extra cookie for my good work.’ He scrambled to find a better approach. 

“So he’s like a therapy dog,” he started, because painting the scene is important.

“What.”

Wrong approach.

“Okay, so I’ve found out he has some issues, something to do with the Starcourt fire, I think? You know nothing of it, by the way, I probably shouldn't know about it. Henderson, well, the little one, just has a big mouth.”

“And so do you. By telling me,” his friend pointed out.

“Emerson, this isn’t about you,” Eddie scolded him. “So he needs extra physical contact or something. And he might have um…” Wrong turn again. “Engaged me in it?”

“Ok, hold on,” Gareth dropped his forehead on the edge of the chair’s back and rubbed his temples. “What do you mean by that? Because I know it’s not as weird as you make it sound.”

Eddie crossed his arms, which looked extra stupid in his horizontal position. He tapped his socked foot against the mattress.

“We were watching Karate Kid, and the couch wasn’t big enough for four people. Nobody else wanted to sit in his lap and I thought it would be, you know, funny, to offer. And he just said ‘okay’, and did it!” His arms flew up into the air again.

Gareth lifted his head.

“So you sat in his lap.”

“He put me in his lap.”

“Dude, you throw your legs all over me when we watch a movie!”

“Yeah, but that’s different!”

“How?”

“Because we’re friends! We play together and shit!”

Gareth scrunched his nose because while he knew of the wisdom his friend possessed (very selective and rarely occurring in the daylight), admitting him right was painful because the cockiness he possessed was probably far greater.

“Well, maybe he’s giving you signs he wants to be friends?”

Eddie snorted.

"No way. Not possible. No."

"And why is that?" Gareth raised an eyebrow at the adamant negation.

"I'm his younger brother's friend-"

"Who's his age."

"-And we like different things. I'm a freak, I like metal and D&D!"

"So does Dustin, and they get along well."

"They are brothers!" 

"Well, I actually hate my sister, it’s not a rule."

Eddie groaned.

"I don't know," he ended up saying, just to voice his internal frustration. At least he was facing the ceiling now and not Gareth's pillow.

He hummed, considering his friend, trying to understand his problem, to even locate it.

"Okay, so you don't like that he's nice?"

"Yes."

"... You want him to be mean?"

"... Yes? Maybe?"

Gareth hit his head against the chair. 

"This whole conversation is lost on me."

When he looked up he met Eddie's eyes, a storm brewing behind them.

"I don't want to like him. But he makes it hard not to because he's so nice."

‘He treats me like I'm normal, like his equal’, went unspoken but Gareth could hear it anyway. It was time to end the questions for the day because getting any deeper into his friend's psyche could trap him like quicksand. 

"And then I go to apologize and end up talking about BDSM of all things!"

"Nope!" Gareth straightened up and hopped out of his chair. "We're going to the garage, so I can't hear you over the drums."

"What a best friend you are," Eddie grumbled but rolled off the bed regardless. He was secretly glad for an excuse to stop talking about Henderson because he started getting lost in his thoughts and feelings himself.

The next time he sees Steve, he doesn’t make it any easier. They see each other only in passing, and the older brother doesn’t give him more than a weak smile and a "Hi, Eddie. Dustin's upstairs," before leaving.

Eddie walks up to his friend's room thoroughly confused. 

"What was that about?" he asks instead of a greeting. He never greets his friends properly these days, but there are more important things like ‘hi’s and ‘hello’s.

"What was what about?"

"Steve," Eddie frowns like it explains everything. And apparently, it does.

"I think he's still upset after last time."

Eddie blinks.

"I said I was sorry!"

Dustin rolls his eyes.

"Sorry doesn't solve everything. It's like a," he snaps his fingers looking for a good comparison. "Like one of the spell components. It's not gonna work without all of them."

Guess he is casting Charm Person after all.

"Okay, but like. What are the other components?"

Dustin just shrugs.

"Hell if I know."

Eddie was burdened with the most unhelpful friends. 

"What do you do when you upset him?"

Dustin's first instinct is to protest, probably point out what a great little brother he is, but one stern look from Eddie makes him shut his mouth and reconsider his words.

"Well, if I made him upset, I'd help him with dinner, make him coffee or tea, pick a movie I know he'd like. Help out with chores, mostly. He does too much by himself." The frown on his face is deep like the mystery of Steve's adoption and Eddie mirrors it.

"This sounds all great when you're brothers, but I'm not a Henderson, how am I supposed to pull that off?

"You helped with dinner once, you could do it again," 

Eddie sighs, long and suffering.

"I guess…"

"Great! Steve has left to get groceries and is making dinner later, I'm sure he'll appreciate the help!" He grins, knowing full well he just backed his friend into a corner.

Eddie sputters when he realizes that. 

“What? Today?”

“No better time than the present.” Dustin shrugs smugly, like it was a universal law they can’t help but follow.

Eddie bristles, because, yeah, true, but…

“I'm not mentally prepared," he complains. 

"For what?" Dustin raises his brows in this annoying way of his. "Cooking?"

"You ate my mac and cheese, you understand the severity of the situation!" he yells, accusingly pointing a finger at him.

"Ate is a big word, I spat it out. And calling it mac and cheese is also a big word."

"Exactly!" Usually Eddie didn't like his abilities slandered like that but on the rare occasion when it served his purpose… 

"Steve's first casserole was also inedible," Dustin shrugs and Eddie tries to picture Mr. Perfect Housewife fucking up a dish. "You have about an hour to mentally prepare before he's back though. You can spend it finishing your readings."

Ah, right. The mundane purpose of his visit was schoolwork.

Eddie groans. He can only hope the tragic stories of holocaust victims will set him in the right mind for cooking with Steve.

They don’t. He's heavily unprepared for the confrontation when they're running down the stairs to help with the bags. 

When Steve's instructing them which things he needs and which can be put away, Dustin elbows his friend in the ribs, hard. He hisses in pain, attracting Steve's attention.

"You staying for dinner?" he asks before Eddie can say anything. 

"Uh, if I can help with it, then yeah," he says, feeling Dustin’s annoying beady eyes on himself.

Steve frowns at him.

"You don't have to do that, I’ve told you before."

"Yeah, but I'm done with my work for today," Eddie adds under the menacing gaze. "And my cooking skills need some guidance. Wayne is too old to stomach my food, he can't risk another food poisoning,” he babbles, earning himself a snort from Steve. 

“Okay, if it's that bad,” he agrees finally,  the smile Eddie has gotten used to once again on his face. "But you'll be under strict supervision."

"Of course!"

"Okay, you already got yourself a kitchen slave, so I can go finish my work," Dustin speaks up before promptly disappearing, only the sound of his rushed retreating steps left.

"Guess we're alone then," Steve comments, giving Eddie an odd look. He thought he was used to those but Steve's were always hard to decipher. Not the exact kind he usually got.

He clears his throat to dislodge the weird feeling clogging it up.

"So, what are we cooking today?"

Steve hums, looking at the ingredients before him.

"You ever cooked soup?"

"Uh, I assume you don't mean the instant kind?"

Steve makes a disgusted face, fake gags for a good measure too.

"Soup it is then. It's getting colder, and I'm sure Wayne would appreciate it," he says, eyeing Eddie questioningly, and this one he deciphers easily.

"My uncle,” he explains. "I live with him."

To his surprise, Steve smiles warmly.

"Wanna make some extra you can heat up for him?"

"That's-" Eddie's taken aback, which doesn't happen to him often. "That would be very nice, thank you."

"It’s nothing. He should know his nephew is spending his time productively."

"I'm always productive," he mutters back a complete lie. But he's been trying, okay?

"I know," Steve says, surprising him again. "Maybe I want to get on your uncle's good side too."

Eddie doesn't ask why. Doesn't want to know. Doesn't speculate. Just leaves it be, bugging him for the time being.

"I was thinking fritters too? Since they're easy to heat up later."

Eddie nods, watching him sort through the vegetables.

"Whatever you say, chef."

Steve instructs him through the soup preparations first, explaining it needs more time to cook. 

“I hope you don’t mind veggie broth. El didn’t like chicken and we kinda got used to it. Also, it’s cheaper,” he says, watching Eddie pour water over the vegetables arranged in the pot. 

He puts the pot on the burner and looks up.

"Who's El?"

"Dustin's friend. She moved to California though," Steve answers with a frown.

"That's a bit of a drive."

"Yeah," Steve scrunches his nose, then looks back into the pot, before reaching for a box of seasoning.

"Ok, now for the fun part."

Eddie has no idea how seasoning a pot of vegetable water can be fun, but he's not about to argue. He follows instructions and marvels at the amount of weird plants that could be added to food. 

"I feel like a witch," he whispers, tossing dried herbs into his cauldron.

Steve chuckles.

"You kinda look like one."

Eddie side-eyes him from his position over the pot.

"I hope that's a compliment."

"Oh, it is," Steve says in a weird voice and Eddie is too afraid to look at him. He flips through the seasoning packets instead, reading unfamiliar names.

"Okay, so this needs a couple of hours to cook, you'll know when it starts getting together from the smell. Then we'll blanche the onions and garlic, add the tomatoes, blend it all, and it's done. Now we can work on the fritters. Have you done them before?"

Eddie thinks about it for a moment.

"I saw my uncle make them."

"Potato ones?"

"Uh, yeah? Are there more options?" he asks, eyebrows drawn together.

"Apparently, yeah,” Steve rolls his eyes. “A fritter is technically anything you can grate, slap together and fry in a pancake-ish shape."

"Huh. I've learned so much today already."

Steve laughs. 

"So, what do you want in the fritters?" he asks and Eddie is ridiculously giddy about having a choice.

"Can we put meat in them?"

"Yeah, I've made them with bacon before."

Eddie's eyes sparkle.

"Potatoes with bacon and cheese?"

"Holy shit,” Steve groans. “Claudia's gonna kill us, but it sounds so good." He ponders on it for a moment. "We could add corn to pretend there are vegetables in them."

"Ketchup is a vegetable," Eddie points out and Steve bristles. 

"We're not eating them with ketchup!" he protests. "But… we could use some of the tomatoes to make a sauce."

Eddie never thought cooking could be this fun.

"Yesss!"

"You're way more excited than I thought you'd be," Steve observes, grabbing the potatoes to wash.

"I'm a growing boy, of course I'm excited about food. Besides, we're like two alchemists; mixing up stuff to make other stuff."

Steve laughs again.

"Are those the guys who tried turning metals into gold?"

"Precisely!"

He's tasked with peeling the potatoes while Steve puts bacon in the oven. He’s  never good at it, and he huffs angrily when Steve joins him and gets through three potatoes while he peels one. What's worse, he can see him watching and his fingers twitching.

"Okay, I can see you itching to correct me. Just do it."

"You sure?"

"Yeah man, unless you have some disease I could catch, I'll be fine."

Steve winces and Eddie has a lightning-fast memory of a rumour that gays spread a deadly disease. But Steve isn't gay, probably, and it's just a rumour.

Steve is still haste when he rearranges his fingers on the peeler and takes his hand away like touching him burns.

Eddie frowns. Well, that's not gonna cut it.

"Like this?" he asks, making a motion he knows is wrong.

"No, like-" Steve reaches out and hesitates. 

"I don't have cooties, come on."

Steve presses his lips together and wraps his hand around his. He has to move closer too, crowding Eddie's side. 

"Like this," he says, whispers really, pushing his hand in the right motion.

This suddenly feels more obscene than it is, but Eddie’s half tempted to push it further.

"Your hands are weirdly soft. Do you steal Robin's hand cream?" he asks instead.

Steve huffs at the backhanded compliment and retraces his soft, big hands.

"No, I have my own."

"Hmm." Eddie cocks his head, looking him up and down. "Should have guessed."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Steve asks with a frown, but he can tell the anger is played up. 

"Nothing," Eddie shrugs. "You just look like someone taking care of himself." 

Steve keeps looking at him like he is not sure if he should be offended or not so Eddie helps him out by rolling his eyes. 

“Don't worry, I judge you more for your music than your hygiene.”

“Of course,” Steve huffs. “You wouldn't know much about hygiene anyway, would you?” he teases with a smirk.

Eddie gasps.

“Are you implying trailer trash don't clean themselves?” he asks, eyes wide and offended. 

“What? No!” The smile vanishes instantly from his face. “Of course not!” Steve scrambles to defend himself. But then, he cocks his hip and crosses his arms.

“You know what? No. I stand by it. Your hair needs proper care, not whatever 3 in 1 you treat it with,” he says. 

“5 in 1,” Eddie corrects him smugly. 

“Five?”

“Hair, body, face, beard and ass,” he lists on his fingers, earning himself a look of disgust from Steve. 

“For that alone, you’re washing your hands again.”

Eddie knows he doesn't have to, but complies anyway. Whatever makes the big Henderson happy. And consecutively, the little Henderson. And somehow, Eddie himself.

By the time the sun starts setting, he’s gained some valuable culinary knowledge, including the fact that as a cook, he gets to taste the dishes all the time. His growing boy tummy is satiated with a stolen strip of bacon and one of the test fritters he’s munching on, when they hear the door unlock.

“I’m home!” a woman’s voice calls out. Eddie freezes.

“We’re just finishing dinner!” Steve calls back while the man next to him shrinks on himself, looking up at him and wondering why he isn’t being pushed into a closet like a secret paramour. 

“Your mom is here?!” he seethes through his teeth, eyes jumping from Steve to the door. 

“Well, yeah?” Steve raises an eyebrow. “She lives here?” 

“But why am I here?!”

Was Steve this stupid or did he not grasp the severity of the situation?

“You’re cooking? Staying for dinner? Studying? The fuck do you mean man?” he answers, more or less matching his volume.

“Mothers hate me!” Eddie reminds him helpfully, making Steve only roll his eyes with a huff.

“Claudia likes you.”

“She never saw me,” he reminds him. Because as soon as any of the suburban moms caught a whiff of his metal vest, his dark clothes and long hair, he felt disgusted eyes on his back. 

And when the Satanist drug dealer rumours reach them? Things only get worse. 

“Dude-”

“Oh, hi boys!” A tired-looking blond woman enters the kitchen. Her smile doesn’t waver despite Eddie’s presence, meaning she must have seen some shit in her life. “You didn’t tell me we’ll have a guest today.”

Steve steps in before he can put his foot in his mouth, laying his big warm hand on his shoulder. 

“Eddie finished his work early and wanted to help in the kitchen. Hope that’s alright.”

At the mere thought it wouldn’t be, Eddie’s stomach twisted. 

“Of course! The more, the merrier!” Claudia smiled, still seemingly genuine, before stepping closer and extending her hand.

“Nice to finally meet you, Eddie. I’ve heard a lot about you from my boys.”

Steve’s hand is still on him squeezing minutely to remind him to shake Claudia’s hand.

“Likewise.” He smiles to his best ability, unable to remember the last time he was friendly with someone's parents. Except Gareth's, maybe.

“What did boys make?” she asks, sniffing the air and trying to peek over his shoulder.

“Tomato soup, like you asked, and some fritters.”

“With veggies, I hope?” She squints at her oldest (newest?) son.

“There’s corn in them, and we made a tomato sauce.” He smiled brightly and Eddie could tell he was happy to play the good kid role. 

“Good. I’m gonna change and get back to you,” she says before disappearing upstairs, probably to harass the younger Henderson now. 

“Why was she so nice?” Eddie muses, half to Steve, half to himself, half to the universe in general. Wait, that's three halves. Well, he didn’t fail school because of his great math skills.

“She's always nice.” Steve steps away to work on the next batch of fritters.

“Not to me! Mothers hate me! I bet she’s just pretending but as soon as I disappear, you're gonna hear all about it!”

“Hey!” Steve turns back towards him, frowning. And uh-oh, he upset him again. On his reverse-upset mission. “Claudia’s not some uptight bitch like that. She likes all our friends and you're not an exception. Just because you dress differently isn’t gonna ban you from the house or get us in trouble.” He knocks him on the head for good measure. “You’re safe here.”

“Okay,” Eddie simply says, taken aback. Being welcomed somewhere was a feeling he still had to process.

“We're safe here,” was a soft addition he almost missed over his own loud thoughts but made him even more curious about Steve himself. 

User tags: @i-have-three-feelings @mblogs @awkwardgravity1 @imacowboy3 @just-a-tiny-void @clumsiluni @shotgunhallelujah @halfadoginatank @carlprocastinator1000 @irregular-child

[mint-yooxgi]

Gunsmoke & Leather Prologue

Biker!AU - Part of the Gunsmoke & Leather Collab - With @kpop-stories-21 @anyamaris @pyeonghongrie @sanjoongie

@nebulousbrainsoup @stardragongalaxy and @yoonguurt

Genre: Mature, Angst, Fluff, Humour, Non-idol!AU

Pairing: Ateez X Reader - Prologue in Third Person, individual parts to follow

Words: 1,480

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Warnings: Allusion to kidnapping and supernatural occurrences. Mature themes.

A/n: *Insert laughing lizard gif here* As always feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~

Summary: Eight online friends meet in person for the first time and plan to have a wild weekend. However, things quickly go awry when they are kidnapped by a notorious biker gang. Hilarity, misadventures, and perhaps even feelings ensue.

Stars twinkle in the night sky above, the light of the full moon illuminating the pavement as an old microbus makes its was through the city. Peals of laughter can be heard from within, a chorus of eight voices shouting along to lyrics they all know by heart. Every so often, a streetlamp provides insight to wide smiles stretched across bright faces, most dancing in their seats or shaking their other friends lightly in excitement.

This trip was meticulously planned. Simply getting everyone’s schedules to line up was a pain, but as luck would have it, an opening seemed to appear for them all. Furious calls were made and messages sent to arrange the perfect getaway for these eight friends, excitement lingering in every voice to finally be able to spend some time with each other.

What better way to spend some quality time with friends than on a road trip?

Thus, a microbus was rented, bags were packed, and the meeting point was set. All that is left to do is make it to their hotel for the night, and pick right back up where they left off tomorrow.

“I still can’t believe you convinced that guy in the chicken costume to take a picture with us.” A large grin stretches across Elara’s features as all heads turn to look at Aurora.

“And it made for a good memory!” She beams, pulling out her phone to begin swiping through the photos. “Look how happy we all are!”

“The photos did come out really nice.” Larissa hums, reaching forward to grab Aurora’s phone.

“Look at our faces!” Nix cackles, swiping the phone and zooming in on the picture. “Caly and Aries are giving the chicken man the worst side eye imaginable.” 

“Any man who says ‘let’s cock-a-doodle-doo this’ deserves to get the side eyes of death.” Aries replies bluntly, leaning back in his seat to get more comfortable.

“Fair enough,” Rhea laughs, patting the taller male on his shoulder. “What’s your reasoning Caly?”

All heads turn to the woman in the driver’s seat who has been quiet this whole time. A slight frown mars her brows, eyes flicking between the dashboard and the road ahead.

“Caly?” Eris tilts her head in concern, noting how her friend’s lips purse in worry. “What’s wrong?”

A few glances are shared around the vehicle, each friend sitting forward in anticipation.

“Calypso?” Aurora leans forward in the passenger seat, making sure her face is in view of her friend’s peripheral.

“Sorry guys, the check engine light came on about five minutes ago and it hasn’t seemed to want to turn off.” Caly finally responds, noting a small parking lot about a block away. “I’m just going to pull in here and make sure it’s nothing serious-“

Almost as soon as those words escape her mouth, grey smoke begins to billow out from the engine.

“Oh shit, something is definitely wrong!” Nix’s eyes widen as they pull into the empty parking lot.

The moment the vehicle comes to a stop, it lets out a loud rumbling groan. A few clicks can be heard before the microbus shuts off, more smoke rising from the engine.

“Well, that’s not good.” Rhea blinks, unbuckling their seatbelt and opening the side door.

It takes about a minute for all eight passengers to exit the vehicle, a few of them circling the microbus. Phones come out, flashlights turned on to inspect the surrounding area.

“Good thing we got insurance.” Aries sighs, popping the hood.

Slowly, the smoke seems to be dissipating, all eight friends crowding around the front of the vehicle.

“We were almost out of the city, too.” Elara sighs, looking briefly off in the distance.

“We still had an hour to go before we reached the hotel, though.” Eris comments, checking the map on her phone.

“We shouldn’t drive it any further tonight.” Caly sighs, pulling up a contact on her phone. “I’ll call a tow.”

Fifteen minutes later, and some mumbled complaints from friends, a tow is called.

“They said they should be here in about an hour, so we’ve got some time to kill.” Caly says, tucking her phone into her back pocket.

“What are we supposed to do for an hour?” Larissa frowns, letting out a soft exhale. Her foot begins to tap rhythmically on the ground.

“Maybe there’s something around here still open that we can check out?” Aurora suggests.

“What would still be open at this hour?” Crossing her arms over her chest, Nix huffs.

“Well, it looks like there’s a bar across the street…” Rhea points out.

All heads turn to see a faint neon sign, a few windows with a dull light illuminating the inside. The place seems pretty busy, too.

“Thank goodness,” Larissa already begins hustling across the street. “I have to pee.”

The others follow closely behind, a few chuckling affectionately at their friend.

“I could use a drink.” Nix hums, Aurora happily agreeing.

“Maybe we can order some food while we wait?” Elara suggests, the others nodding along with her words.

Aries holds the door open for all of them, and as they all step inside, it’s as if a small electric shock travels through their bodies. Sounds seems to muffle for the moment as the atmosphere surrounds them. Spines straighten and brows furrow, a few shuffling from foot to foot once they notice just how crowded the bar is.

“Did anyone else feel that?” Eris’ hushed whisper gets ignored as the hustle and bustle of the bar assaults their ears suddenly in full force.

Larissa is the first to seemingly snap out of her daze, blinking a few times before marching through the crowd and towards the sign labelled ‘bathroom’. Little does she notice the eyes that follow her every move.

Shortly after, Aurora, Nix, and Elara all begin to weave through the crowd and towards the bar. Soft chatter is heard all around, yet the three girls all manage to hear each other for the moment, discussing what drinks they should get.

“I wonder what food they have here…” Elara mumbles, sidling up to the bar.

Unbeknownst to them, three sets of eyes track their every movement, a male drifting towards each individual almost subconsciously.

“Maybe we should grab a table?” Rhea suggests lightly.

Nods are shared by the remaining friends, searching through the crowd for an open space to fit all eight.

“There.” Aries flicks his head to a table in the corner by the front windows.

Wordlessly, all four of them walk over, sliding into the rounded booth to wait for their friend’s return.

Every few minutes, Calypso keeps checking her phone. A worried frown tugs at her features, and she keeps glancing out the window towards that parking lot across the street.

“I’m gonna go wait by the car,” she says, sliding out of the booth a moment later. “You know, just in case the tow comes early, or something. I don’t want to miss their call. Plus, it’s a little too loud in here.”

“I’ll come with you!” Rhea hops out of the booth. “Maybe there’s another place open we can check out.”

“Sounds good.” Aries hums, casually resting his one arm across the back of the booth while Eris scopes out the place.

With a final wave, Caly and Rhea part from their friends, heading back out the door they had just walked in only minutes before.

Two males behind the counter share a look.

A few minutes pass by, Eris continuously glancing over towards the bar to keep an eye on her friends. Though, with the amount of people weaving between tables and lingering about, it’s getting harder and harder to spot her friends. In fact, she’s already lost visual on Elara and Aurora. Luckily, Nix seems to still be in plain sight.

“Issie is sure taking a long time in the bathroom.” Eris comments, worrying her bottom lip. “I can’t see Lara or Rora, either.”

“I’m sure they’re fine.” Aries hums, glancing out the window to see Caly across the street leaning against the car, and Rhea heading down the street. He turns his attention back to the bar, having felt eyes on him. “I can see them right now.”

“Alright,” Eris replies, a vary tone to her voice. “But I’m going to go check on Issie.”

All Eris receives from the taller male is a nod in response. Carefully, she slips out of the booth, heading in the same direction Larissa did only minutes before.

A pair of eyes follow her through the crowd, yet she is none the wiser. A pair of eyes which glance around the room, flashing briefly as they lock with several other sets that all seem to share the same thought.

Eight subtle nods are given, and eight friends are soon separated, never to see each other that night again.

[4ln-stay8]

A ski trip to remember

>sumarry: Lando went to a ski trip with you, Max and P but it doesn’t turn out the way he expected

>author’s note: not my best work but hopefully not my worst

>warnings: none i think

In the picturesque snowy mountains, you and Lando joined Max and Pietra for a ski trip. You were not familiar with skiing, opting to play in the snow while trying to persuade Lando into tubing.

You couldn't help but marvel at the snow-covered landscape. Lando, Max, and Pietra were eager to hit the slopes, but you were hesitant, having never skied before.

"I think I'll just enjoy the snow here, guys. Skiing seems a bit daunting." you said nervous

Lando, was always up for an adventure, he was always in for the adrenaline. You were the complete opposite. You loved adrenaline when you were confident in your safety, but skiing doesn’t feel that safe to you.

"Come on, baby! It's not that hard. You'll love it once you get the hang of it." said Lando trying to persuade you

"I'd rather stay on solid ground, thanks. But hey, how about we go tubing together? It's fun and way less intimidating." you exclaimed trying to find other winter activities you could do together

Lando rolled his eyes, dismissing the idea. He just wanted to enjoy the things he loved to do while he was on the well deserved break from his job and you suggesting to do other things even for once didn’t seem pleasing at this point.

The season was stressful for him, starting at the lowest point possible and fighting with whatever he had to be as close to the top as he could. He just wanted to recharge and relax and have fun, but he was too eager to enjoy the trip that he forgot to include you in it.

"Tubing? Seriously? That's so childish. You should've stayed home if you're not going to participate. Who comes on a ski trip if they don’t even ski?" He said annoyed

Feeling a bit hurt, you decided to stay back at the hotel and enjoy the snow on your own while the others had fun skiing together.

“Yeah well… uh… I’m gonna stay here while you guys enjoy the skiing” you said, your voice barely above a whisper

Lando just nodded and left with your friends up the mountain as you stood there thinking of ways to make the time pass.

You decided to take a leisurely walk, capturing the winter wonderland with Lando’s camera. However, your excitement turned to dismay when you found yourself slipping on ice.

"Ouch! This wasn't part of the plan." you said trying to cope with the pain

Unable to stand up, you called the hotel reception for help. An employee came to your rescue in short time asking you about your situation.

“Bonjour madame, what is the problem?” said the employee in a french accent

“I slipped on ice and my leg hurts. I can’t get up!” You said as tears slowly fell on your cheeks

“I’ll have a look” he said and started to check on your leg

The concerned employee arranged for you to be taken to a nearby hospital. At the hospital, you learned that your leg was lightly broken. With a cast on your foot, you returned to the hotel, hoping that Lando wasn’t at the hotel yet.

Meanwhile, Lando, Max, and Pietra returned to the room, oblivious to your misadventure.

“Today was epic babe! You should've joined us, Y/N. You don’t even know what you’ve missed” exclaimed Lando enthusiastically as he walked in the room

You appeared from the corner with crutches, and gave them a small and embarrassed weak smile.

“Well, I’m glad at least one of us had fun.” You whispered loud enough for them to hear

Lando's eyes widened as he met your body. He rushed to your side, concern evident in his eyes. You looked at him then at your friends who were just as worried as your boyfriend.

"What happened baby? Are you okay?" said Lando trying to check if the rest of you was fine

“How did you manage to injure yourself?” Asked Max concerned

You started to explain the mishap, Lando and your friends listening carefully to your story. “I went to look around trying to make some photos and I slipped on ice. Apparently I broke my leg a little” you said avoiding everyone’s eyes

"I should've been there with you. I'm sorry for calling you childish. This is all my fault. Let me help you, okay? I’ll make it up to you!” Exclaimed Lando, his voice a mix of regret and concern

“Hey, it’s not your fault that I slipped. It wasn’t nice of you to speak to me like that but this isn’t your fault.” You reassured him

“I’ll stay in tomorrow so I can take care of you” said Lando, a serious expression present on his face

“You don’t have to. I can take care of myself! Well… mostly!” You exclaimed not wanting Lando to spend the rest of the trip looking after you

“No baby! You are hurt and it’s my job to take care of you!” He tried to make a point but you disagreed

“You’re not wasting the trip just because I’m clumsy! Do that and I’ll never forgive you!’ You said firmly

“But…” he got interrupted by you before he could properly begin his sentence

“No but! It’s enough that I made the trip less fun because I’m afraid to try skiing. I refuse to make this even worse by having you take care of me! You guys go have fun while I get some nice time inside” you said smiling softly knowing that whatever you will do inside will be boring as hell

“You didn’t made things less fun Y/n! We were just to excited to ski that we made this trip less fun for you” said P with a sympathetic voice

For the rest of the trip you stayed inside while Lando and you friends would go outside and have fun. Lando was on the phone with you as much as he could try to involve you in the fun activities.

The trip was filled with a mix of laughter, concern, and a newfound appreciation for each other's choices. The unexpected turn of events brought the group closer, making the ski trip a memorable experience for everyone, especially for you.

[jilyawards]

The Jily Fandom Rec List 2024 is a compilation of Jily stories our readers want to keep an eye on for this year's awards.

AUGUST

A Matter of Fairness (completed, 3.9k) by @yallthemwitches. Rated E.

James' Quidditch match is derailed by a very distracting Head Girl.

stitch the wound (completed, 15.7k) by @loverscrossmp3. Rated T.

moments on a battlefield and in a home. there are only so many things you can do when in hiding before you begin remembering.

101 Padfoots (completed, 4k) by @tedwardremus. Rated G.

An accident in potions class results in 101 Padfoots running around Hogwarts while Lily and James work together to round them all up

swimming through sick lullabies (completed, 4.7k) by @gigglesandfreckles-hp. Rated T.

“So, I’ve got a question,” James says, leaning forward slightly. Lily nods without looking at him, busying herself with wiping the puddle of water from the condensation of the glass. “If you were meeting Kallus for a date, why’d you bring a book?” She looks up sharply, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. “What?” He smirks, letting his eyes flicker down toward the book in emphasis. “Were you anticipating a rubbish date?”

the dance of mischief and duty (completed, 3.5k) by @gigglesandfreckles-hp. Rated T.

Lily Evans is an infuriating mosaic of traits—beautiful and she knows it, captain of the House Quidditch team, and the loudest voice in nearly any room. She has this way of floating through the school, her laughter ringing out as she moves between corridors and classes, one arm usually slung around Sirius Black’s shoulder and the other gesticulating wildly as she spins tales of misadventure. But she also sort of has a point, and that’s possibly the most infuriating part about her.

the road to reunification is not so smooth (WIP, 10.2k as of 31 August 2024) by wisterial. Rated T.

Other than her persistent guilt and loneliness, Lily Evans is doing perfectly okay. That is, until her friends give her phone number to James Potter, an old schoolmate she would very much like to avoid. If that wasn't enough of a problem, Lily meets a boy in the local library, who appears just as lonely as her, and she begins to realize that he may be the son she gave up for adoption eight years ago. Or: The story of how Lily, James, and Harry reunite, and eventually learn how to be a family (with the help of time, their friends, and a lot of ice cream).

bad day wall (WIP, 14.8k as of 31 August 2024) by apalapucian. Rated M.

lily calls it the bad day wall. it's like this weird communal one-liner diary thing. every time i think i'm over her something happens and it hits me just as stupidly intense as all the other times. i'm SICK of it why can't people just LIKE by default the people they LOVE? why do they have to be separate feelings? it would make things so much less complicated or: in sixth year, lily starts talking to a stranger(?) through messages on a wall. she also befriends james potter. these two things are completely not related.

Guilty as Sin (WIP, 56.7k as of 31 August 2024) by ohevans. Rated E.

This is not sustainable. He cannot keep being so god damn perfect or it’s going to ruin her. It sort of already has, really. Lily Evans is a practical young woman, and having sex dreams about one’s best friend that leave one waking up hot and bothered at 3:32 in the morning is decidedly impractical. Especially when said friend—self-proclaimed early bird—started Mamma Mia! together over facetime at half-past eleven solely because she said she couldn’t sleep, even though he likes to get up early and go on long runs before work. And then she went and fell asleep mid-lyric to Dancing Queen and he sent her a string of text messages and stayed awake long enough to finish the movie, all the while she was passed out on the couch dreaming of his face between her thighs. Again. For the third night in a row. (It would be the eighth, but there was one night she had a stress dream about missing her Eighteenth Century Women’s Lit exam.) This is not sustainable.

Check out the previous months' recs too: January, February, March || April || May || June || July

And don't forget to check out the Jily Week 2024 masterlist!

[rootedinrevisions]

Masterlist: WWE & Professional Wrestling

Step into the ring with my collection of professional wrestling stories! Most of my writing here is centered around the superstars of WWE, but you'll also find a few pieces featuring wrestlers from other promotions.

Whether you're a fan of the drama, athleticism, or the larger-than-life personalities in the squared circle, there’s something here for you. From intense rivalries to behind-the-scenes moments, I hope you enjoy these tales of wrestling’s finest. 💥(UPDATED 12.1.24)

ADAM COLE

Man Enough (Adam x Reader)

As the crowd cheers, you're focused on capturing the perfect shot of Drew's victory at NXT Takeover Brooklyn III, but the energy shifts when Adam Cole makes his shocking debut, attacking Drew from behind. You’ve seen Adam’s work before, but seeing him in person, up close, stirs something new in you. His confidence, his presence—it’s magnetic. As he stands over Drew, holding the championship belt, he catches your eye, and for a brief moment, your breath hitches. Later, backstage, Adam approaches you, his charm as undeniable as his performance. His teasing banter leaves you flustered, though you try to brush it off. But as he walks away, you realize that this won’t be the last time he’ll leave you feeling this way.

PART 1 I PART 2

ADAM PAGE

Unspoken (Adam x Reader)

What started as a casual birthday dinner with friends quickly took an unexpected turn the moment Adam sat next to you, his presence impossible to ignore. Drinks flowed, conversation sparked, and before long, you found yourself on the dance floor, the tension between you growing with each beat. He teased you with subtle touches and whispered words that sent your mind racing, yet you kept him at arm’s length, enjoying the game just as much as he did. By the time the night wound down, you assumed he’d let it go—until you returned to your hotel and saw him waiting by your door, eyes dark with intent. FLUFF.

DAMIAN PRIEST

Playing With Fire (Damian x Reader)

When a lingering injury leaves you sidelined from the WWE ring, you find yourself with far too much time on your hands. And what better way to fill that time than by teasing your fellow superstar, Damian Priest? Wearing his shirt, flaunting a dangerously short skirt, and pushing every button you know will get under his skin, you enjoy the game—until Damian decides he’s had enough. With patience wearing thin and his control slipping, Damian flips the script, and suddenly, it’s not a game anymore. Now, you’re playing with fire, and the real question is: how much heat can you handle?

PART 1 I PART 2

Up in the Air (Damian x Reader)

When WWE superstars find themselves with a rare day off, Rhea Ripley seizes the opportunity to play matchmaker at a local festival. As she drags her friends to food trucks, rides, and games, the sparks between you and Damian Priest begin to fly. With Rhea’s clever nudges and a series of comical misadventures, you and Damian are thrust into close quarters—sharing food, laughter, and unexpected moments of connection. But when a hot air balloon ride leaves you suspended high above the fairground, the thrill of the day turns into something deeper. FLUFF.

Perfectly Imperfect Proposal (Damian x Reader)

Damian has the perfect plan to ask his girlfriend to marry him. But what happens when nothing goes right and the universe throws a wrench in his plans? A perfectly imperfect proposal. FLUFF.

JEY USO

Oh Shut Up (Jey x Reader)

Jey Uso finds himself drawn back into the Bloodline’s chaos to protect his family’s legacy. But his girlfriend isn’t afraid to call him out, challenging his decision and testing the boundaries of their relationship. Tension rises, tempers flare, and sparks fly as Jey proves he’s always in control—even when the lines between passion and power blur. ANGST. SMUT KIND OF.

ROMAN REIGNS

The Tribal Pull (Roman x Reader)

You are a young, ambitious intern who is beginning her six month stint with WWE. Your only focus is making a lasting impression to jumpstart your career - until you catch the eye of Roman Reigns, the dominant and enigmatic Tribal Chief. What starts as professional interactions quickly turns into something more, as Roman's attention becomes impossible to ignore, and the lines between business and personal interactions blur. With each encounter, the tension between you rises, leading to a moment of no return when circumstances force them to confront their undeniable chemistry.

PART 1 I PART 2 I PART 3

[florenceafternoon]

━。゜✿ jily fic recommendations ✿ ゜。━

Really, we shouldn’t be surprised by now but I have more amazing jily AU fics to share because the writers of this fandom are incredibly talented and I have my screen report to prove it.

For reference, anything in italics is taken from the summaries on ao3.

serendipity by desperateforsanity (on ao3)

Modern college/uni AU. Dearest Students and Staff, I am pleased to announce Hogwarts University’s fourth annual Pen Pal Program. Upperclassmen and sophomores likely remember and cherish the memories of their previous penpals and are excited to make another friend this year.

TW: for the later chapters for discussions of grief and its effects on one's mental well-being. For the most part, though this is a fun fic full of great banter!

The Frenzied Misadventures of Balcony Man and Window Woman by @clare-with-no-i

prompt: "It's 3am why are you outside my window- are you trying to rob me?"

It feels necessary to preface this entire thing with the fact that, yes, James had good reason to be dangling precariously from a third-floor balcony, and anyone who says differently is simply attempting to smear his good name.

At least, that’s the story he’s sticking to.

Hijinks & Shenanigans

mellow is the man (who knows what he's been missing) also by @/ clare-with-no-i

Earl's Court. 24th May, 1975. Led Zeppelin live in concert like you've never seen them before.

FEATURING: prolonged eye contact, deeply metaphoric descriptions of cigarette smoke, painful levels of detail about makeup, and a special one-time performance by Two Teens In Love! OR: the "we made eye contact at a Led Zeppelin concert but my friends pulled me away to mosh before I could come say hello" AU

So when I say that I saw this unfold frame by frame in my head, I mean the writing is on another level. The way that I could almost smell Earl Court ... I regret waiting so long to read it. Also, found out this is written by the same author as one of my favourite jily fics foreigner’s god so that explains it “I'm not a religious person but I do sometimes think God made you for me.” ― Sally Rooney, Normal People

but he’s a little bit too far away by @firefeufuego

Historical AU. A decade after they met as cadets for The Times, the toll of James chasing stories in war zones is starting to hit home for Lily.

Taking A Shot At You by @annabtg

Modern AU. Lily Evans, pharmacist, has to work all day and night on New Year's Eve - and ends up ringing in the new year with a bloke who just got himself a dog bite.

The Right Track by BeeDaily (on ao3)

Co-workers modern AU. When James is first handed the train ticket, his immediate reaction is to laugh openly in his father's face.

the horoscope by lirians

Modern AU. James stops momentarily to give way to a bunch of rambunctious teenagers on the pavement before he regains his step. Lily has come to a halt a bit further, waiting on him.

“Horoscopes?” he asks as they move onwards. He’s relieved that any awkwardness between them is apparently gone. “How so?”

“Marly sent me mine this week because it said I would meet someone from the past again,” she explains. “I’m still not sold on the idea of it, but isn’t this weird?”

I was inspired to read this by this art

The Falcon and The Squid by @jfleamont

There's a Lego Millennium Falcon that needs to be built. There's also a bet, a ring and a bike.

Put it all together and what do you get?

Leda's jily will always be a favourite of mine. They're idiots in love your honour

Glastonbury by elanev91 (on ao3)

Prompt: we're at a music festival and you crawled into my tent when drunk and fell asleep, now you've woken up bewildered and to be honest I should be more annoyed but you're just so good looking

One Day at Time by @sweeethinny

Single-mum-lily AU. One day at a time is the mantra Lily uses to keep peace inside her mind, but there are days when it's simply impossible and in the end all she needs is a glass of wine, a cozy hug with her boyfriend, and a serious talk with her son.

Note that you can read this as a stand-alone one shot but it's part of a series that takes place in this AU

For All My Life by aheartcalledhome & SecondJadeofLan (on ao3)

When saving the bees ends in a happy family.

pumpkins and blueberries by evotter (on ao3)

Modern soulmate AU. In which Lily Evans hates puzzles, Marlene McKinnon is a coffee-making goddess, and the stuffy manager with the unkempt hair just so happens to be Lily's soulmate. In the wise words of Mary Macdonald, nothing is scarier than a relationship. Especially if it's with your soulmate.

After Moon by lovesickjily (on ao3)

When the universe sent Lily back in time for some inexplicable reason, she didn’t realise that she’d fall for the charming, messy-haired Prince along the way, nor did she realise that she’d see him once again.

here's to never growing up by elixirsoflife (on ao3)

Chat fic where a group chat documents the lives of four highly dramatic teenage boys as they navigate their A Levels.

Or, like, die trying.

Okay, I rarely ever read chat fics, they're just not my thing. BUT this one had me wheezing on my way to school. It's crack. Just treat it like crack

Ice Baby also by elixirsoflife

Modern college/uni AU. In his defence, James never expected to meet his soulmate at thirteen minutes past eleven on a Sunday morning when he’s aiming a puck at Sirius’ balls.

Or: call me sweetheart again and I'll punch you in the throat.

Not a Clue by PotterandEvans (on ao3)

Modern college/uni Quarantine AU. Lily stood in the doorway of the flat, looking at the boy in front of her. She had spent most of the last two years keeping her distance from the annoying piece of work, staying away from his ego mostly. “Come in.” She said, stepping away from the doorway to let him into the flat that she usually shared with Remus.

"Ah, so kind." James muttered as he walked inside, his heavy bag weighing him down. This really was not the ideal situation, for either of them. But he had nowhere else to go, so staying with Lily Evans it was going to have to be.

they were zoommates (requires an ao3 account) by elanev91 (on ao3)

Modern college/uni Quarantine AU. Lily's on lockdown and, because she can't help herself, signs herself up for a whole bunch of extra (and free) work with her ad agency. Minerva, her boss, assigns a cheeky social media manager to her team to help her. Also, Marlene discovers TikTok (this is nowhere near as important to the narrative as its inclusion here suggests).

And You Heard About Me (Ooh, We’ve Got Some Big Enemies!) by @wearingaberetinparis

Fame AU. Lily Evans is a Grammy-winning singer-songwriter and global superstar, who recently broke up from her latest and long-term actor boyfriend Amos Diggory. James Potter is a professional football player who plays as a forward for Manchester United and has never been quiet about his celebrity crush: Lily Evans. When Lily Evans thus plays at Wembley Stadium - a place he is more than familiar with due to his being part of the England team - he just has to go and see her perform, embracing his inner, besotted fan boy, while the woman on stage is completely oblivious to his presence. Or is she?

The most unrealistic part was man u winning (but it's James so that explains it). Regardless, I started this fic while waiting for my final grades from last year to come through, and while they were disappointing, this sure wasn't. I was crying so hard that I fell asleep. Then I woke up and continued the fic and suddenly I was giggling along with Lilly. Anything and everything Mary writes is a masterpiece. Thank you for sharing this wonderful story.

it continues (the beginning doesn't matter) by whitesunlars (on ao3)

She is the last person he expected at his door at that exact moment, despite feeling unsure about the fact that she managed to track down his address, he agrees to go out to coffee with her. A lot could be said about James Potter, but nobody could claim that he had good self-preservation skills.

They meet in a bar. Mistakes happen. They learn to keep going.

[heartshapedbubble]

Could I perhaps have something like those 2 long and well written Joseph and Luchino fic but with Soul Catcher? Thank you🙏

anon i am SO SORRY this took so long you might as well have my first born

also english isn't my first language so please have mercy on me i know i reuse the same words over and over 😔 reqs like these sadly clog my inbox even tho i like writing them so i'm gonna do something about them after i empty it!!

my very own prince charming, a soul catcher fanfic🧲☠️

cw for vomit mention in case you have emetophobia, reader's gender not specified although soul catcher uses a few spanish pet names (nouns) that are gendered because haha language rules, not proofread, warning for intense corniness, this is very bad i apologize, ALSO VERY LONG

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

~

There are amazing forces of Attraction and Repulsion between souls; just like when fate guides some people together and causes others to part.

~

After a period of indecisive skimming through the bookshelf, you picked out a thick, hardcover book.

You'd consider yourself quite picky regarding books - just a flashy cover and a taunting description wouldn't do it for you. A beautiful, elegant maiden and a handsome, charming prince were just one-dimensional props in the story, and you found all of those "new " and "wonderful " fantasy worlds described and mapped out on the front page generic and bland. You always seeked out something new, something that would leave you thirsting and longing for each damned word pressed onto the yellowing paper, make your fingers trail over dozens of pages in mere minutes. Yet, considering your little town in the south was limited to just one small, dusty library, finding such books would be considered an extreme sport.

So for now, you had to be satisfied with the usual, popular literature that the townsfolk read.

But today was special - you weren't in the mood for something new, or something outstanding, in fact you'd even say you wanted to read something normal. Something you could nonchalantly mention to your friends during afternoon coffee, with a plot so malleable and simple it would be woven around your conversation like it was nothing. The misadventures of a rookie knight, or the sorrows of a young, noble lady, all interpreted differently and abstractly and able to be swiftly analyzed and twisted over a cup of overly sweet coffee. Although the pile of smooth, newly released paperbacks at the entrance intrigued you, a minute later you found yourself squished between two dusty, polished wooden shelves, inspecting the book you just picked out.

Well, you didn't know you'd stoop that low, but what caught your eye right now was a book of fairy tales and fables. It was an old release, presumably donated to the library considering the oil stains on the brown paper that wrapped itself around the thick leather cover. Although worn out by time and basically crumbling from the outside, on the inside the lettering was flawless and written in an old, thick cursive, and simply bringing your face closer to the text would bless you with the scent of old, yet well kept books - the fresh smell of walnuts and baldachin beds and white cotton dresses, and even lilac bushes in the spring. Although all of these associations were of a life unknown to you, for some reason they made you feel at home.

There was another reason for you picking out this particular book - a reason you'd rather carry with you to your grave out of pride, unable to bend your head down and admit it. When life got unbearable and overbearing and the only way you felt safe and well was under heavy linen bedsheets or in the shade of the old pear tree, you'd curl up and indulge in the exact same books you usually despise. A humbling experience, indeed, but at times where safety and love were most neccessary fantasies were the quickest, most low-key way of getting what you needed the most at the moment. Projecting your being onto the flat sheet of a protagonist, you'd visualise yourself instead of them, you being the one kissing the hero's fading scars or having your hair braided by the thin, nimble fingers of the king's son. The amount of scenarios was neverending, and, well, if you couldn't get your fix with all these readily available options, you felt like you're doomed.

The book was now set inside your trusty linen bag while you were walking home. Oddly, the usually loud and populated city market was silent and not a soul could be seen out on the street, not even a head popping out of the window or a hand reaching for the hanged clothes that hung on the ropes high above the rocky path. While you were crossing the town bridge, you decided to stop to take a deep breath and enjoy for a bit, now that you weren't being pushed onward by the citizens and the merchants that usually piled behind you.

It does take a while to learn savor things, doesn't it? It takes until adolescence until the dark chocolate on your tongue unveils its rich, deep and bitter flavor, until you learn how special that first sip of morning coffee is and how good of a feeling it is to simply have another hand wrapped around yours. Same goes for nature, you thought to yourself as you looked over the bridge, watching the river speed under the arch and the plants inside of it wave around like silk scarfs. Without the noise pollution, you were finally able to hear the satisfying noises of the water sloshing over the rocks, droplets hitting each other every second. Without a second thought, you laid beside the edge of the bridge, your bag lazily hanging off of your wrist, and let yourself get lulled to sleep by the melody of the current.

That is, until the straps of the bag slipped off of your wrist.

Fuck.

You immediately jumped to your feet in panic, looking around for your bag. Yet, it was too late. It was nowhere to be found - it was probably already driven away by the river, taken to god-knows-where.

Well, it's not like you weren't aware of the risk. But your heart still ached - that was not your book, after all. And what a beautiful, old edition it was as well! There was no way you'd be able to properly apologize to the librarian, unless....

"Oye, muñeca, ta libre."

You jumped at the sudden voice whispering at your ear. You were sure no one was around here except you... or maybe..?

Slowly turning around, your face was met with another, yet wider, lathered with paint and shaded by the hat above's enormous brim. As the face moved away from yours and the person straightened their back, you found yourself gazing up and down at - what seemed to be, at least - a tall, youngish man, couldn't be above 28. Dressed in gaudy purple, green and black, adorned with flowers and gilded accessories, he looked like a living puppet, his chest and shoulders wide and his waist slim, proportions of a wooden harlequin they sold during the holiday season in the toy shop. Hanging off of his wrist was your beloved linen bag, the forsaken book inside still in tact, not a single droplet of water blemishing the paper.

"Who...? How did you...?" You muttered nonsense, as your arms needily reached for the bag that he gently waved around. Props to the visuals, but you had your priorities.

"It's all reflexes, sugar. Was taking a nap underneath the bridge, you know, all that wandering around numbs out your legs, and your little sack here just happened to fall close enough to my hand for me to grab it in time. Be a little more careful next time, will you, doll?" The man-puppet replied nonchalantly as he tossed the bag into your arms.

"Thank you, I- wait, what?" You quickly snapped out of your daze. "Napping? Under the bridge? "

"Don't judge it before you try it", he whistled, crossing his arms behind his head, "The cobblestone ain't the comfiest, but it does wonders for your back."

You sneered at his carefree expression, as if lying under a bridge was the most normal thing to do. Who exactly was this fellow, and who did he think he was?

"And you expect to believe me all that?"

"Hm?" He jolted a bit, not expecting a question, maybe a compliment, but definetly not a skeptical remark.

"Napping under a bridge? Seriously? You catching my bag is impressive, yes, but there's no way it was that much of a skillful feat. You probably dozed by the river's shore and suddenly found a bag by your side like any other guy at this hour. Who are you even, some wannabe-show-off-superhero?"

To your suprise, he just smirked back at you, lowering his torso until his face was just inches away from yours. So close, you could feel his warm breath on your cheeks, and his raspy voice rumbled inside your ears.

"How about you take a wild guess."

Stumped by his question, you took a few steps back. Your eyes now digesting his form in his entirety, you rubbed your chin as you gazed up and down at the man, posing, obviously very into the careful stare you were dissecting him with.

"Enjoying the view, hm, azúcar? "

"Give me a break! I'm trying to focus." You mumbled, panicking a bit, sensing that your cheeks started to flame up. To be honest - even under all that fabric and thick paint, he was quite a looker. The black paint defined his jawline in all the right places, and man, that silly outfit of his was tailored pretty damn well, gripping his legs and his biceps enough to define them nicely.

Although visually he was as fancy as a rich man's birthday cake, nothing seemed to pop out from his outfit, as if every embroidered piece of textile and every golden stud was carefully planned out. However, upon better inspection, one of them seemed to take the cake - it was the small shiny skull on top of his hat, shaped like a squished pear, a few nails stabbed into it like birthday candles. The cherry on top of it all - metaphorically and literally.

"The skull on your hat... looks like a well-made prop to me. You're some kind of entertainer, huh?"

A playful smile appeared on the lad's lips, yet it wasn't a confirming one. "You're getting closer, but no, not exactly."

"Street musician?"

"I can be one if you desire, but it's not exactly my main job."

"Actor?"

"Only behind the scenes, dear. But I can see by the look in your eye that you're going to head in the right direction." This little guessing game seemed to amuse him to no end.

"With all that flashy wear, it seems fair to assume you might even be some kind of high-end magician, performing for nobles or aristocrats. Or some wannabe wizard."

He bit his lip, the smile widening with each guess. He seemed more excited about this than you were.

A flower painted around his left eye. A belt fastened around his waist, with a big golden buckle. Sheer black gloves covering his hands in their entirety, bones painted in gold on his knuckles and fingers.

A glowing ring - no, a disk - hanging from the side of his belt, rocking with the movement of his hips.

Wait. It couldn't be. The disk looked too...

"Hold on a second. You couldn't be..."

"Sí, muñeca? "

"Are you..."

Before you could even finish your sentence he grinned from ear to ear and inched even closer to you, his nose now touching yours, as if he just managed to read your mind.

"Bingo."

~

The legend of the Soul Catcher was told times and times again, twisted and folded like fresh taffy to suit every possible scenario in one's life. To children, it was told to scare them into going to bed in time. To teenagers, it was told to ward them off from the forest at the edge of the town. To young adults, it was told to motivate them into becoming independent and to work hard. To newlyweds, it became a prayer, to protect the newly formed family and to bring safety to their home. He was not the Reaper, but if a soul was left astray, detached from the body it resided in, everyone knew well that once the Soul Catcher gets his hands on it, that it won't be back ever again. He was both a devil and a saint, a villain and a vigilante - but one thing was sure, he was well respected. No one knew if it was out of fear or out of genuine admiration. And what was even weirder - not a single person was sure if he ever actually existed.

Not a single adult, at least.

The legend was not a new one, in fact, it has been told for a little less than a century. If you were to have a little extra patience and attention, you could hear the town's elders occassionally mumble about seeing him as a child in the forest, or him visiting them in a dream. But their interpretations varied from tale to tale - he went from a spirit, to a ghoul, to simply an omen, either good or bad. Since the townspeople couldn't agree on a single, concrete definition, the Soul Catcher remained a concept, embodied by what seemed to be multiple entities.

However, if you were to ask a child about the Soul Catcher, you'd get a much more vivid and universal description than anything an adult could tell you. All of them were along the lines of "magical jester", and what was weirder, almost all of the children confessed that the Soul Catcher played with them. And no, it wasn't just a single sighting, he played with multiple kids at once, even going as far to balancing three of them on his shoulders and telling them stories. During the hot, damp afternoon hours of the summer, huge groups of children snuck out of their homes just to play with him. When their mothers soaked their cramped hands and their fathers took their first break after the morning shift, their beloved kids were out on the dusty streets, carefully following every word seeping off of the Soul Catcher's silver tongue.

The only thing that bound the varying opinions and theories of both the young and the old was the trusty disk that always hung by his hip, rumored to be the tool he used to attract and harvest souls. And this same legendary disk was now hanging off of the belt of the man in front of you, green and purple mist enveloping it.

The myth himself, in the flesh, in front of you.

"You were quicker than I thought you'd be. Bravo, dollface." He smiled and patted your head. "If we ignore your initial hostility, you seem quite confident in the fact that i'm the real deal. Mind telling me why?"

"Well, you don't see someone parading around with THE exact disk that the Soul Catcher uses. Everyone agrees on the main description of its appearance, but to be completely fair, no one around here is skilled enough to make a replica that's convincing enough."

"I see. It's nice to see somebody with both the wits and the pretty face." He chuckled. Who would have known that he's such a flirt? Nontheless, to your shame your face lit up at his silly compliment. There was just something about him that made you weak in the knees.

"Alright. I believe I should prove you I'm the real thing now." He unhooked the disk from his belt, spun it around in his hand, and hopped a few steps away from you. He pointed the disk at your chest, positioning himself as if he's getting ready to react to a suprise attack. You didn't know what he was trying to do, but you felt as if you shouldn't make a sound or even object to it.

A tension-filled silence wrapped around you two for 20 seconds. After 10 more which seemed more like 10 minutes, you felt your body move. Move, although your legs were planted at the same spot they were before. Your head ached and pulsed, you felt dizzy as if your intestines were tying themselves into knots. To be sick without actual pain, to move without any movement, what was he doing to you? If this keeps up, you might just end up vomiting out your stomach along with its contents. It was like being carsick, except the sickness rumbled not only through your abdomen, but through each one of your limbs as well.

"Here, I stopped. It's all over. Sorry for this."

The headache seemed to halt, and your body was back to normal, yet your hands and legs still felt a bit sore. He was now above you, his hand stretched out to your sides in case you lost your balance.

"...What did you just do to me?" You yawned, trying to stand up straight again.

"What you just experienced was your soul being harvested from your, already inhabited, body. I usually refrain from doing this, but I felt like I should let anyone that witnesses me up close go through this. Y'know, I want to be honest with people. That although they've seen me in the flesh and talked to me, they're fully aware of what I can do so they can prevent themselves from getting harmed."

"Does this imply you sucked someone's soul out from their living body?"

"Maybe", he shamefully turned his head away, "but it was never on purpose. Usually it was them reaching for the disk, or trying to see it up close. It pains me, since in most cases it's nearly impossible to return the original soul to its old body."

An awkward silence ensued.

"Sorry for ruining the mood, I felt like I needed to warn you first."

"Oh no, seriously, it's alri-"

"May I walk you to your house, jewel?"

"Huh?"

"You heard me the first time." He extended his hand, waiting for your next move.

~

What a peculiar man, indeed. First he tries to suck out the life out of you to give you a heads-up, and then he offers to walk you home like a gentleman.

And you'd be lying if that offer didn't sound thrilling. So now, your hand was intertwined with his, you trying to slow down as much as possible to make the moment last.

"I realized I had forgot to ask for your name. My apologies. Not very gentlemanly of me, isn't it?"

"Oh, I don't mind it. It's ____."

"___..." He looked up at the sky, rubbing his chin, as if he was trying to remember something, your name echoing on his lips multiple times.

"Pretty name, but it doesn't ring a bell. You're not among the horde of youth that I visit, are you?"

"Nope. I'd say i'm more of a loner most of the time. I like socializing and all, but nothing's like a good book that you can read in one sitting."

"I figured. No way in hell I'd forget such a cute face like yours, even if I saw it for a split second." He smiled and pinched your nose. If his plan was to drive you insane, he was incredibly effective.

"How come people have such different reports about you? Can you shapeshift?" Trying to lead a conversation with him felt like navigating through a mine field - there were no known limits, no known good or bad questions, or any shared topics you two could talk about. But you'd lie if you said it didn't excite you - waiting for his response, never being able to predict the next word that will come out of his mouth.

He sighed. "If you wore the same pair of pants every day, wouldn't you get tired of it?"

"I suppose..?"

"Well, yeah. It's that. Mix it with hallucinations the brain dials up once it's met with something outside the world it knows, and here's your answer. I'm no sprite or shapeshifter, just a regular guy who made a regrettable deal years ago. I might have the powers of the dead on my side, but at what cost?"

You shrugged. As much as you wanted to quiz him and get him to talk about himself, right now biting your tongue and playing it cool seemed like the best idea. Getting deeply invested in his life might not lead to good places.

"So... you're one of those so-called bookworms, hm? You've been carrying a book inside that bag of yours the entire time, too." You could feel his hand slip from yours, trailing across your arm to your shoulder, then to the other, gripping it softly. His touch felt warm on your skin, very human and real despite what he did for a living.

"...Yeah. In fact, I was just on my way from the library back at the bridge where I met you. I just borrowed it." You smiled shyly, holding the bag tightly in your arms. Knowing his curiosity and boldness, a feeling of panic unfolded in your chest, dreading what he might say next.

"Mind me taking a peek at what you're reading?"

Aaand this was it. The moment you prayed will not happen, but his chin was already resting on your shoulder, trying to get a peek at the contents of the bag.

"H-hey, hey! Back off! That book's my business, after all!" You giggled, holding it tighter and tighter, trying to laugh off your growing anxiety. If there's one person that you wouldn't like knowing about your little self-indulgent hobby, then it was Soul Catcher. But your tightest grip was easily undone by his loosest, and now your book was in his left hand, clumsily open, and the digits of his right were buried in the strands of your hair, holding your head away with careful but great strength. Even with your annoyed and panicked groans and your hands clawing at him, he simply couldn't miss the opportunity to steal a look at a few titles.

"Calm down there, you're acting as if it was a pipe bomb that you were carrying!" He chuckled, trying to stay composed as his body lost balance under your pushes and pulls. Yet your delight was short-lived, as only a second was needed for him to spread the pages open with his thumb and smugly read some of the titles out loud.

"Cinderella, Rapunzel, Sleeping Beauty... seems like someone's a sucker for Prince Charming, hm?" He snickered, but gave in to your pleas and dropped the book right into your sack.

"Would it hurt your pride to not dig through others' stuff?" You hissed, patting the bag in relief. "A-and is there something so wrong with indulging in childhood comfort anyway?"

"Oh, not only would it hurt it, it would kill it. Besides, something tells me that this little guilty pleasure of yours goes beyond just childhood comfort", he whistled in his usual self-satisfied tone, yanking at his suspenders, "But hey, who am I to say?"

"Oh, does it?" You gave him a taste of his own medicine, grimacing right at his face, making sure each word rumbled through his skull. "Well, what if I told you that such absurd assumptions are indeed incredibly untasteful, especially when left unelaborated? Just imagine how much of a hit that could be to your fragile ego..."

"¡Dios mío! You couldn't possibly...!" He dramatically threw his head back. At least something was true - he really was an actor behind the scenes. "Oh lord, it truly seems like the only way to make it up for you, your majesty, is to explain myself beneath your ice-cold gaze, like an accused pauper chained and laid before the king!"

Both of you laughed away at your ridiculous actions.

He cleared his throat, after a good minute of dying from laughter. "O-okay, where were we? Ah, yes, your dirty little secret." With his hands crossed behind his back and his gaze innocently directed at the sky, it seemed like this was a touchy subject for him, too. "Well, from all my previous experiences with people, I noticed that a lot of them like to fantasize about, well, a world where everything is just better - usually some kind of unrealistic fairytale utopia. It helps them feel better about their problems, especially during adolescence." His eyes briefly shifted to yours, watching them as if he's waiting for you to point out a fuck-up nested in his wording.

"Alright, continue...?"

"And, uhm, although fairy tales are meant for kids and all and are read by them, these same adolescents use them as a vessel for said utopias, or simply, a medium."

His lips were pressed into a firm line, waiting for your feedback.

"Bravo, jester", you treated him with a teasing smile, ruffling the stray locks of hair peeking out from his hat, "You got yourself out this time."

"Well then, call me Houdini." He smiled back, scratching the back of his neck. "Jeez, even though that fantasy thing should have gotten into my skull for the most part, I still can't fathom what's so special about the Prince Charming trope.. It's so annoying! Are y'all really drooling over the same guy in different fonts?"

"To be fair, it leaves a lot to the imagination. You can interpret him however you like, twist his personality to your liking."

"But that's exactly why it's horribly overused! Dressing every fictional man in a suit of already desired personalities is... boring! No variety, no depth - nothing! Do they really not find real people with actual lives, emotions, thoughts and opinions more appealing?"

It was a bit funny, him getting worked up over this, as if he was deeply insecure about it. You decided to fuel the fire a bit.

"Well, what does your average Prince Charming have that, let's say, I lack?"

"A great personality?"

"Oh, come on. Now you're just being mean." He sighed, traces of laughter in his sigh. "Damn you, muñeca." You chuckled.

"Big muscles?"

"These babies don't look defined to you?" He pouted jokingly, flexing his arm. Shit. Your face warmed up for a bit. For a second, a satisfied grin appeared on his face, liking the reaction he coaxed out of you through your composed armour.

"Strength and brave- AH!" You didn't even get to finish your sentence, and a moment barely passed, but his left arm was already wrapped around your calves, his right under your arm and around your back, his body leaned into yours and suddenly - you were hanging off his shoulder stomach-down, like a potato sack. "Oh my god yo- put me down!"

He whistled, holding you down to supress your squirming. "Strong enough for you, doll?"

"Not fair..." You groaned, lifelessly plopping onto him.

"You didn't answer my question~"

"Yes. Strong enough." It was quite enjoyable up on his shoulder, actually. After the initial panic passed it became nice, the rhythmic bouncing of his walk lulling you to sleep. You could get used to this.

"Now that's music to my ears." He showed no sign of letting go any time soon, perhaps he liked the smell of your perfume on your neck, and your weight resting on top of him, like a thick winter blanket.

"Since you've already decided to pick me up, would you be kind enough to carry me to my house?" You mumbled, your eyelids already feeling heavy. "That house, over there." Pointing at the tall, cobblestone house, you yawned.

"Entiendo, sirenita."

~

"How did you- actually, you know what? Nothing can suprise me anymore. You climbed up my balcony, didn't you?"

The sun was setting, and Soul Catcher was leaning against the railing of your balcony, your bag thrown around his frame.

"Actually I slid off the roof, but you're not that far off, beautiful." Every time your name was replaced - or you were simply called by - a soft pet name coming from his mouth, you felt as if your stomach would explode. Something about the way he spoke sent shivers down your spine, whispering endearments to you like you're the only person remaining in the world along with him. And whenever he read and peered through your façade as your face turned red and your breathing got deeper, he took a step further, engaging in the sensual, mental tango forming around you two. "I forgot to return your bag. Sorry."

"It's alright. I appreciate that you went out of your way for me." Gosh, the way you tortured him! Whenever he was smooth and flirtly and you punched him in the face with your kind, unfiltered smile instead of flirting back, it was like his heart was momentarily shattered into pieces and then bound again. The irresistable two-step of games and suave words was driving him insane and momentarily, in his mind it was your face, and your body, and your voice that called for him and your coldness clashing with his warmth, and it was making him dizzy. Behind his eyes, his brain was melting, and his heart was no different. To fall so quickly for a stranger - well, it's no secret that he's been depraved of actual love and affection beyond one night stands and empty promises to dozens of lovers from different times - was nothing new to him, but this attachment was not the same, it was permanent, stable, and wasn't going away any time soon.

"So, ___..." You turned quickly. When it was just your name and not something snarky on his lips, it seemed more important. "...You got any plans for the evening?"

"Oh- not really. Do you, though?"

"Not a plan, but rather an idea, a proposition, even." His voice was breathier as if he was nervous, coughing up the words from his chest. "If you want to, we could, y'know, watch the sunset together. I'm quite fond of sunsets myself, so I was wondering..."

"So you're proposing a date?" A date. As if he flinched when he heard the word.

"Well, yeah, a date, if you want to call it that." He said as he bit his lip. "Are you up?"

"Why not?" You whispered, creeping slowly towards him. "That sounds like a nice way to spend the evening."

"I'm glad." he smiled. In that little moment all of his confidence returned, and now his voice was clear again and he was back on his feet, jumping on top of the railing like the most skilled of acrobats and making his way to the roof. "You're coming, no?"

"And how exactly do you want me to come?"

"Grab my hand. Come on." His hand hanged from above, pushed as far as possible to reach you. "I'll pull you up."

You gulped. Heights remained a minor fear of yours ever since childhood, and having to face said fear head-first out of nowhere wasn't very appealing. "But what if I fall?"

"Believe me, muñeca, you won't."

"How can you be so sure!?"

He took a deep breath, trying to speak as gently as possible to calm you down.

"Trust me, ___. It's my hand around yours, no one elses, and my strength that's going to pull you up. I'm here for you. Please."

You didn't know when, you didn't know how, but the height suddenly stopped being a problem and, in a flashing moment, you were in his arms, being pulled to the middle of the roof.

~

"The clouds are such a beautiful color today. Light pink, as if they're crowning the sun before the moon rises."

Your back facing him, his chin on your shoulder, his breath on the nape of your neck.

"It's even more beautiful right before it goes down. They turn blood red, melting with the sky."

His arms wrapped around you, your hand around his wrist, your legs thrown over his.

"Do you have to go soon?" You whispered with a heavy heart.

"I should go." He suddenly stopped. "But I don't want to."

"Please. Stay for another moment."

He pulled you closer and closer to him, now his mouth right by your ear.

"Of course. A moment."

And it was more than a moment.

And more than an hour.

And only the crescent moon was the witness, and what it saw was sealed for eternity once the sun rose on the horizon again.